Moobs

Note to all ye e-pirates: torrentspy is no more, but demonoid is back up. Not that I’m advocating any illegal activities or anything. I’m just sayin’ is all.

Self plug: I will be speaking on “ethics in global health” at the University of Ottawa’s Faculty of Medicine “Global Health Institute” this coming Friday.

So the Clinton-Obama war wages on. About time I took a side, huh? Well, I’m still a Gore man. (See here for why this rumour does not die, and here for how the Right still fears him.)

But let’s say I must choose between Hilary and Obama. Hilary has got more ideas, is proven in the political arena and is a known quantity. Obama is an inspiring, outsider-ish figure who speaks a somewhat fresh language unknown in American politics. But he has few ideas and might just be all talk and bluster, while she is a transparent panderer who is desperately out of touch.

In short, she annoys me more than he does. So I choose Obama. Doesn’t mean I think he will win, only that I prefer him over Clinton.

Where to begin with the Clinton failures? She, like the Bushites, promises to irrationally “obliterate Iran“. And she makes people scream. Her smear campaign against Obama is almost criminal, and her litany of petty lies is almost comical. Frankly, I wish she would just go away.

Meanwhile, Nasty Nicky B sends us a fun webcomic.

I leave you with a sad tale of three aging losers and one shed that needed disassembling. See, Sean, Andrew and I gathered at the home of one Special Ed Wong to help tear apart his shed. We’re all nerds who failed shop class, so we could barely handle a saw without near mortal injury. So I quickly resorted to my purported martial prowess, breaking boards with axe kicks, in the process exposing my expanding middle aged girth, diminishing flexibility and balance, and generally embarrassing myself in all possible ways. I won’t be posting the video of both Andrew and I failing to break said boards with our hands –even my penchant for self-mockery would not withstand such an ego-flailing.

Instead you get photographic evidence, first of our feeble attempts at sawing, then of a successful axe kick (photo courtesy of Herr Wong). What you don’t see are the splinters, pulled groin muscles and my lineage of passed-on karate masters spinning like lathes in their graves. What you do see are a magnificent display of man-boobs and bald spots from all those present, most notably one Lord Wat:

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