FOMOing at the Mouth

During one relaxed Saturday evening in mid-2000, Fowlie came bursting into Spango’s room, his eyes glistening with the type of excitation that most Knockandians had learnt to know and fear.  The occupants of Spango’s room – Goldberg, Benis and Spango himself – already felt the hair on the backs of their necks rising before they even realized what Fowlie was brandishing in his right hand:  A bottle of benzene. (A quick aside for those not well-versed in organic chemistry:  Benzene was first distilled from benzoic acid by EIlhard Mitscherlich in 1833.  It proved to be a historic compound because it was the first compound identified as “aromatic” due to its ring-like structure, which was pivotal to the advancement of organic chemistry as a whole.  It is an important intermediate in the production of polymers for use in the plastic industry.  Outside of its industrial applications, many people use it as a solvent and de-greaser, which is why Fowlie was in the possession of this substa

Note: Take One never made it because my attempts to take Ricky to watch part 2 of his beloved  "Pitch Perfect" series were stymied by the fact that they wouldn't even sell me a ticket for him, due to the age restriction. So, plans were put on hold for like 11 months. Ricky and I ventured into the wilds of Northgate to watch "Zootropolis". The cinemas at Cresta were under renovation, and Mommy was spending the day at a friend’s house, so both Ricky and I were severely out of our comfort zones. However, I'm proud to say that the promise of a box of Astros and a bucket of popcorn bigger than his head at least persuaded my son to sit still... For the first 45 minutes. After that, he was on his feet, playing drums on his chair (Prompting an apology to a really rude lady sitting on my left that I REALLY didn't want to give...), and marching up and down the aisle reciting and re-enacting nursery rhymes he'd learnt at school. I managed to entice him

You know, people of Internet-land, it takes a lot for me to brag. I believe humility is one of the core virtues of a good person. However, every now and then, one just has to throw one's hands in the air, shout "Fuck it!", and admit when one is unbelievably talented at something. Today, I'm not going to brag about my otherworldly knack for pasta sauces, or what a good support player I am in "Overwatch", or even my spectacular lovemaking skills. No, these are things that only the mildly immodest brag about. I am here for some next-level boasting. My wife and I are the world's best "SingStar" players in the world. There, I said it. You need an unbelievable cover of "Jungle Love" by Morris Day and The Time? We can do that. You need someone to knock a version of that Rick Astley song (You know which one) out of the park? We got your back. And I don't mean to brag - Actually I do - But nobody, and I mean no

You know, having a leisurely Number 2 in the safety and sanctity of my own bathroom used to be a wonderful thing. A rare moment of silence and solitude in an increasingly busy and noisy world. Well, among the many things I gave up when I sired my two wonderful sons is the privilege... Nay, the right, to poop in peace. This morning, Zakk woke the entire house at 05:15. Since my wife can charitably be called "Not a morning person", it usually falls to my insomniac ass to play Pre-Dawn Policeman to the two human hurricanes that I now share a house with. Tam can thus snatch a few more precious minutes of sleep until I have to start my morning toilette and go to work. This morning, the urge to, um... "Close a small deal" hit early and urgently. I thus shipped the boys off into a different part of the house, and sat down to answer nature's call. (Note that, out of necessity, Zakk is usually at my feet during occasions like these, as he is 10 months old a

Every morning upon reporting to work in the last 15 months, I’ve walked past this spectacular piece of unintentional comedy: I like to picture the dialogue that must have gone down at the birth of this magnificent spectacle: BUILDING OWNER TO INTERIOR DECORATOR: “You know those scenes in movies where the super-impressive-looking office building has clocks in all different times from all around the world? I want that!” INTERIOR DECORATOR: “Eeeeexcellent idea, sir.” [To Millenial assistant, sotto voce] “Do you know how to do that?” MILLENIAL ASSISTANT: [Barely pausing to look up from Tinder on her iPad] “Sure, I mean, like, who doesn’t own a watch, right?” Months later: POOR GUY WHOSE JOB IT IS TO HANG THE CLOCKS: “Okay, so which times do you want on the clocks?” MILLENIAL ASSISTANT: “Okay, I’ve thought about this really really really hard: One should be 25 to 1, because those were the best years of my life, a

I consider myself an erudite and eloquent man. Despite the disadvantages created by my Sith Efrican accent - "Milk" = "Mulk", "Skeletal" = "Skuh-LEE-tal" and so on - I think my command of the English language is above average. (Which was confirmed by comments made to me by various high school English teachers, comments akin to "Your vocabulary is strong, I just wish you would do your fucking homework!" Note that I may be paraphrasing here…) In addition, if you put stock in the  theories of my man Ziggy Freud, I am without a doubt an oral personality: I talk when I'm happy, I talk when I'm nervous, I like to eat basically all the time, my sexual preferences are... Best discussed elsewhere. The only thing I don't do is chain-smoke. On top of that, if you put any stock in astrology, my mouth is a loaded weapon. I was born in early December, and three of my six major astrological signs are Sagittarius. Plus my moon is

In accordance with the Knockandian philosophy of “No occasion is too mundane if beer is involved”, Knockando held an annual event known as the Knock Olympics.  A two-day event, the Olympics was divided into the Indoor Events (Basketball, squash, pool, darts, drinking competitions) which ran on a Friday afternoon in August, and the Outdoor Events (Soccer, rugby, tennis, road running, tug-o-war) which would occur the next day.  The res was split into 5 teams –Teams were based on where you stayed in the building, e.g. Residents of the top floor of the residence’s Williams Hall were team “4 th Floor” – and competition was quite fierce. During the 2000 Knock Olympics, competition was extremely fierce.  4 th Floor was engaged in a bitter struggle for top of the heap with their hated rivals C & D Units, and the difference between winner and second place was literally coming down to the single digits.  As such, extreme importance was placed on events where numbers counted, as 4 th