Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Tuesday, April 3, 2001

No one's laughing

By MICHELLE LANG
of The Leader-Post

Neil Ross woke up Saturday morning to read his own obituary in The Leader-Post.

The 25-year-old Regina resident is alive and well, but a fake death notice said he passed away suddenly on Thursday, March 29.

His family can only conclude that someone was playing a sick April Fool's joke on them.

"Whoever did this probably thinks they're a practical joker, but this has gone way too far. This is not funny," said Shirley Ross, Neil's mother.

The obituary featured one of Neil's elementary school pictures.

It read: "Beloved son of Bob and Shirley, √ČNeil will be remembered best for his sparkling personality, and (will be) sorely missed by all whom he touched."

Neil was not particularly shaken up by seeing his own obituary.

But Shirley immediately began receiving phone calls offering condolences from distraught friends and family.

"We've received numerous phone calls from relatives and friends. This was kind of devastating for people," she said.

The Ross family can't think who placed the ad. They assume it was a friend or someone who knew Neil in school, since the ad had his photo in it.

The Regina Police Service didn't see the humour in the advertisement either.

Police are investigating the matter and Staff Sgt. Pat Duck said if the culprit is found, he or she could be charged under the Criminal Code with relaying false messages.

The charge is an indictable offence and carries a prison term of up to two years.

Neil's obituary also said funeral arrangements were in care of Speers Funeral Chapel.

Ron McEachern, president of Speers, said the ad should be held up as an example of a practical joke gone wrong.

"I'm assuming it was a young person who doesn't realize these are not the things you joke about. It is hurtful to everyone involved, especially grandparents and older people who are of a different generation and won't see this as a joke," said McEachern.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Girls

Tina
Barbara
Cornelia
Suzanna
Lisa
Sandra
Linda
Maria
Alexandria
Debra

Thursday, July 12, 2007

I think people mistake liberty and freedom, and they mistake having a lot of money and possessions with, "Now I'm fucking free, I've got two cars and a house." But that actually limits your liberty. I remember Tom Lennon saying, "I don't want to own a house that's gonna force me to do things to keep it." Tom Lennon lives in this nice little house that he can more than afford, so he's not like in this constant cycle of debt just to make it look like he's successful.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

My guide to old age

If you can avoid it, don't become 80. But the alternative, remember, is a good deal worse

Brian Aldiss
Wednesday November 1, 2006
The Guardian

Many famous men and women have been celebrating their 60th birthdays lately. Well, Virginia Ironside and Bel Mooney for a start. I want to put in a good word for being 80. True, there are disadvantages to being so old; the great thing is to count the advantages. When you are 80, there are all sorts of things you don't have to do. You do not have to go out to dine if you can't be bothered; a phone call in a whiney voice, a burst of sympathy at the other end, and you can stay in snugly and read Tolstoy.

Things that might seem like disadvantages when you are young - say 70 - can be transformed into pleasures. I tend to wake up at four or five in the morning. Instead of lying there whingeing about it, I shuffle downstairs and make myself a mug of tea. Sometimes I switch on the TV and discover a world that does not exist in daylight hours. The riches of Istanbul, a chap making friends with a crocodile, someone climbing the Himalayas in a wheelchair, the last orang-utangs in Sumatra, dining off durian fruit.

It's wonderful! They didn't have TV at four in the morning in my young days. In fact, they didn't have television at all.

The number of things they didn't have then and do have now is always cheering. I can remember when our town got its first traffic lights. And when bright-coloured plastic washing-up bowls came in. I remember when washing machines came in, but so do you, most probably. I remember when I bought my first Volvo estate. I am still driving it after 2m miles, although I don't go that far these days.

I see a lot of interesting consultants. Yesterday, I talked with a consultant who knew all about the Sittang Bridge disaster in Burma in 1942.

Talking of newer things, we now take for granted the computer - the computer that guides and governs most of our activities, pleasures and pains. How easily now I fly to a Greek island every so often, baggage intact. I have forgotten how difficult travel used to be. Just for the nobs, really. I remember Heathrow when it was Bushey. Terminal One was a Nissen hut.

A tip worth passing on is not to go out looking miserable even if you feel lousy and the ingrowing toenail is playing up. Look cheerful. Keep your back straight. And lo and behold, there's a good old friend having a coffee at the patisserie up the road. Not that it matters if you can't remember his name. He can't remember yours.

It's a good idea to get out and about. You need exercise. And it feels so pleasant when you arrive home again. There are many foodstuffs you can buy which never existed once upon a time. Mangoes, pitta bread, Madagascan prawns, goats' cheese, Australian Shiraz, Belgian chocolates, peppered mackerel fillets you don't have to cook, free range bananas, loganberry yogurt ... Why, I remember when yogurt came in, together with Green Shield stamps...

Many people feel old at 30. I still feel young in spirit. And there is a great abounding reason for that, though she has begged me not to mention her name. She is just the most empathic, intelligent, adorable woman I have had the luck to meet. My winter sunshine.

In case it might appear that I wallow in the bright side of being 80, I had better end on a cautionary note. Don't become 80 if you can avoid it; but remember the alternatives are even worse...

I require spasms of sleep during the day. I will be sitting in an armchair, perhaps watching television or perhaps reading - at present it is the TLS and John Heilpern's magnificent biography of John Osborne - and I fall asleep. At least, that is what I call it. But, like those unfortunates caught on the wrong side of the Sittang Bridge when it blew, I find myself on the wrong side of consciousness. I have entirely blanked out.

Perhaps I come back to myself after half an hour. I am astonished. And I reflect that a time may come when I blank out for good, there in the armchair, Heilpern's book unfinished on my knee. Be warned, darling!
This marvellous, unique lifetime will be over. But what an easy way to go ...

Monday, October 30, 2006

So I'm reading this collection of things that people have overhead. Funny silly stuff that was heard out of context or just nuts. Here's an example:

Mother, taking her daughter by the hand:"Hurry, we'll have to pick up Willem."Daughter: "Willem?"Mother: "Yeah, Willem. You know. Your little brother."

So I read this one just now:

"HEY!!!! I got a meteorite from Ruby"

It was listed without explanation and reads as just crazy.

Except that I knew within a second exactly what that person what talking about and how it all makes sense. I even know who Ruby is. And I had a meteorite.

Weird.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

While vacationing in Puerto Rico 12 yrs ago, our rental vehicle had a blow - out on our way back to our hotel. It was around 2:30 in the morning on a pitch black two lane road. A pick-up truck with 3 men stopped to see if we needed assistance. My husband was trying to lower the spare from the underside of the vehicle and said no. They started getting out of the truck anyway when my husband said that assistance was on it's way already. One of the men cane around to the back of our vehicle and shined his flashlight on my husband under the back bumper and I became petrified when the light shined on my husbands trouser hem and stopped, I knew the guy had realized what he saw and started laughing and calling his friends. My husbands pant leg hem was half way up his calf and the light from the flashlight was glissening off his nylons, (my husband is a crossdresser in private but a wonderful, heterosexual and strong man). When Don got out from under the car he was immediately hit in the back of the neck and knocked out cold. Within minutes Don and I were on opposite sides of the vehicle with our heads inside the car with the windows rolled tight to our necks. We were both repeatedly raped by these three drunken men. The sight of my husband bent over wearing panties, garter and hose being animalistically raped and the tears and sweat rushing down his face and the look on his face was too much to bear. I tried to make my movements as pleasurable as possible to hopefully exhaust their stamina but I was petrified. They were slapping our bottoms and screaming obscenities as they continued to pound us. I was then analy raped like my husband and to add to the horror they started loudly comparing how our bodies responded to the rape, bragging how their prowess made even my husband ejaculate in the panties he was wearing. It was close to daybreak before they left us. Fortunately we were able to free ourselves, put our clothes on and drive to the beach and clean ourselves up before returning to the hotel. We never reported this to the authorities for the obvious reasons. Although I have completely recovered physically and mentally, my husband and father of our 4 children has never been the same. I can see the humiliation in his eyes. No matter how I try to comfort him and reassure him that he is a man, my man, and that what happened was a normal physical reaction to what was happening to his body, he feels like it was all his fault for being a crossdresser.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Today I get my wisdom teeth removed. The good news is that I only have two wisdom teeth on the bottom. My dental surgen said to thank my parents as it's genetic. Thanks Mom and Dad for the lack of wisdom.

They are going to put me out completely via IV for the event. I have to warn them that I've woken up during surgery more than once and I woke up swinging. They are going to strap me into the chair.

Then it's a couple of sick days at home (which count as holidays at the bank, cheap bastards). I'm loaded up on popsicles and senior citizen liquid meal supplements.

I'm more scared about this than I was about getting a vasectomy.

Icck. Icck. Icck.