theblogofthehandoftamm

Listen to me, mice: you can’t win. thehandoftamm is mighty and for all your wiles you will still invariably lose. Was it one of Aesop’s fables wherein a lion spared a mouse and that mouse later saved the lion? That’s not at play here. There will be no merciful hand and you will provide no valuable service other than improving my skill with the setting of traps.

Make no mistake; I take no pleasure in these executions, only the satisfaction of ridding my residence of rodents. I hope the carnage is already at an end because I don’t need UN Peacekeepers setting up checkpoints in my living room.

thehandoftamm is not to be trifled with and when I strike down upon thee, it will be with blows aplenty. Or one, depending on effectiveness of my savagery.

My house is under siege again but I have years of experience in dealing with rodents’ enthusiasm. If they would just do as I say, everyone would live. Ignore my warnings at your peril and tremble as I bring the harrow down!

Apologies to anyone offended by the graphic photo but I believe other mice may have already bookmarked this site (for the quality of material is ideally suited to their kind) and need to know that I mean business and all sales are final.

Today Facebook took down Scrabulous and put up a beta of EA’s Scrabble, which doesn’t actually work and is already down. This freed up untold hours of my time, so I thought I would fix my comments problem at this alternative media organ you’re presently navigating (accidentally, I’m sure). I will now do my best to make a tedious story sound like it’s chock-a-block with tension.

I figured I would simply reinstall all the files for WordPress 2.3.3. Of course, my removing and subsequent restoring of directories took the site down for a short period. Given that my normal morning traffic without an update is negligible (actually, my afternoon traffic with updates is nearly identical), I figured this was a safe time for tinkering. Not so! In no time at all I had an irate reader on my phone, telling me that my blog was down. Nothing could have given me greater pleasure than to have taken on the role of my own Reader Services representative for a few minutes, which I cheerfully fulfilled with my expressed wish that he go and perform an autoerotic act. I also made assurances that the site was close to working again, for all the good that would do.

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Years ago I did a bit of sports reportage for the Bayer Lagerkusen News Service, as acting undersecretary of their domestic league desk. Allow me to return to the rusty form for the purposes of chronicling the on-and-off-field activities of last night’s fixture of the MLS All-Stars versus West Ham United.

There was a heightened sense of anticipation with this match which was reflected in a heightened presence of security and an expansion of their procedures. Line-ups to get in the stadium were encumbered by a longer-than-usual delay at the gates where everyone had their bags searched and their scrotums inspected prior to entry. Being a bachelor this week, the extra fondling was welcomed by me but I would have preferred that it was done with greater enthusiasm on the part of the security detail.

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It’s a delicate balance, deciding whether or not to blog regularly without becoming monotonous. Last night a dedicated reader suggested this outlet needs a little more heart. Haven’t got a clue what he was on about, but I’m buying longer sleeves just in case. I may try a little tenderness if and when I manage to chisel through my veneer.

While not fixing my ever-present comments problem, here’s what rises to the surface of my fertilized mind. Maybe there’s some soul to be mined here.

First is that I need sleep. Not getting any, because I’m running about like crazy while the house starts to look like that of a crazy person’s, with trenches through the newspaper mountains one needs to navigate. In the last couple of days I’ve been anywhere but home, nailing 2×4s, helping with pocket doors, and eating d’oeuvres hors. There has been some beer involved and nights that ended on the wrong side of 1:00, making 6:30s all the more gruesome. There’s at least another two days of same ahead and then my inevitable coronary. As long as I get the laundry done I may pass with dignity.

There’s little else in the news locally but for these tidbits, which I’m moved to comment on.
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Following in a soon-to-be-familiar path, I write about the latest in the new series of field trips to themed watering holes. The target for this occasion was Reposado, a tequila bar on Ossington, between Queen and Dundas. I had invited out thehandoftamm señor and we once again put our palates on the line with hopes that the cactus juice might rise above the forged papers at Pravda.

Being that it’s Ossington, in the heart of New Bohemia, we chose a Monday night at promptly opening time to make sure we didn’t need to break into any social scenery and risk being ejected for our unstudied squareness. Thankfully Reposado requires little cred and doesn’t slouch in the way of Sweaty Betty’s, The Communist’s Daughter, or the Dakota. Heck, Reposado even has a sign out front so you know that you’ve found the place you were supposed to meet your friends! OK, signage is evident at the other places as well these days. This is still my story.

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After some days away from the electronic umbilical cord to the wider world, I return with bugbites and sunburn and possibly my lowest-ever levels of vitriol. All of these will pass momentarily.

I am a temporary bachelor in this week so expect tales of wanton hedonism in the coming days. I would describe the last 36 hours in detail but some of what transpired should really be left to the investigators instead of me confessing all here. It began with a terrible match in Toronto FC v. San Jose and only went downhill from there. Yesterday I had to be put in drydock instead of resuming my bloggery in a more timely manner.

Now that I’m more or less mended, I will return momentarily with a report on the fermented bounty of a certain cactus, as I’m off to a Tequila tasting this evening. I hope it fares better than the vodka bar.

On a boring technical sidenote, I don’t know if to be relieved or irritated that the comments problem didn’t magically fix itself in my absence but this site is not about discourse, it’s my vanity soapbox after all. I may attend to it or not before long.

With apologies to anyone looking to have their say, it seems that somehow the option of adding comments to posts has been knocked out today and, despite troubleshooting for a while, I can’t seem to locate what could be preventing comments from functioning properly.

I’m afraid I’m going to have to look into it again later. All this work on site has worn me to a nub. Time to go rest and recharge.

Come back in a short while, should you have the inclination.

As I type this I sit in the car dealership, where my wallet helps keep the very patient people’s car in fighting trim. Thankfully they also boast free wireless so I can share the trials and small victories with you.

As always happens when I’m sitting in the service lounge, the desk manager comes over to tell me what extra deficiencies the technician has noticed. Today I’m here for a coolant flush and a oil change but I haven’t been in my seat for ten minutes before I’m advised that the air filter, pollen filter (hunh?), brake fluid, and spark plugs also need to be done. The shop asks if I had the 64k overhaul on this car, which I dutifully did do some 18 months ago at another dealership. They seem suspicious.

Does this mean that the other shop did a half-assed job or that I’ve just been really hard on my brake fluid, filters, and plugs? Like everything car-related, I’m convinced it’s a scam. The machines are so beyond my understanding that I can be easily taken advantage of. Is this my fault? Kinda like computers where I’m concerned: just make the thing work for me without my needing to know what I’m doing!

So I’m getting plugged again.

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It’s all becoming clear to me now. With apologies for mentioning the WordPress upgrade for the umpteenth time, check out these bizarre coincidences. I switch to the new WordPress on Thursday and somehow knock out my blog site in the process. Then, within 24 hours, both cars are smashed. The following day, Toronto FC loses to a team called Parasuco in penalty kicks (see photo, although it’s one of TFC scoring). Sunday I have a hangover, which rarely happens. Monday we have a huge rainstorm and my basement floods, ruining the perfectly good cardboard of empty beer cases. (Bad that they were ruined, worse that my house is full of empties, geddit?)

Tuesday I switch back to the ol’ faithful WordPress and suddenly I get a cheque delivered to me that I had been waiting for. Then I get the awesome parking spot near the door. Then I eat a very tasty burger, which I’m pretty sure won’t threaten my waistband like those others have. Are you sensing the pattern that seems so obvious to me? Everything’s coming up handoftamm again and you, reader, get to reap the benefits along with me. That’s what’s known in the trades as win-win. Just like a children’s soccer game, there are no losers here. Anymore.

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