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This post serves a dual purpose.
One, it serves to break the latest silence on the blog, which is difficult, because I always feel I have to come back in with a bang. But while I’m on the subject, I just wanted to thank everyone for continuing to check in. I was scoping out my stats (36-24-36) and it seems that although I have been unable of late, for various reasons, to keep up my blogging standards, a great number of you are still faithful. You make a big man cry.
And two, I just wanted to report that the other day I was making tea (which perhaps, as a Tim Horton’s kid, demonstrates my acceptance of this culture more than anything else), and although I watched the pot the whole time (in an effort to increase my procrastination time away from writing TV episodes), and despite my mother’s assurances to the contrary my entire life… it still boiled. Just thought you should know for future reference. Actually, to be honest, I just want to see if anyone can decipher that convoluted excuse for a sentence. And those who know me really well will probably guess that I just spent way too much time going back and adding clauses. In retrospect, I probably should have just said, “I watched a pot, and it boiled.”
Oh well. When it comes to blogging, sometimes you just have to get back on the horse… as long as it wasn’t [...]
An old faded advert, on the side of a building…
Serve Your Guests Whizz!
Dip and Drink!
I don’t even want to speculate on that [...]
Now, I know that at some point I should ceased to be amused by the grammatical goofs of advertisements and packaging over this way… but not yet baby… not yet. I came across this one on a cute little package of rat poison at the supermarket.
Rats are your enemies and of your economy!
Combat rodents onslaught with czar rodent killer
which is an attractant to rats mice, no matter rodents,
eat steal food [...]
This just in…
Boy do I have news. It’s incredible really, and I don’t actually expect anyone to believe me; truly, I can hardly believe it myself. On the International Scale of Basic Credibility, it would rate slightly above the tooth-fairy but certainly below the moon-landing. Yes folks, here it is… I, David J. Ford, wore a sweater.
Yes, that’s right. For the first time in Karachi: A sweater. The Canadian in Pakistan wore a nice, cosy, little woollen number. We’re talking about the very same Canadian who lost forty pounds just by sweating.
I can see the headlines now: Profuse Sweater Prefers Sweater
Yes, I was set to attend a late-night, rooftop barbecue a few weeks back and on a whim, I decided to pull out the sweater that had been conveniently taking up a sweater-sized space in my suitcase for so many moons. And I have to admit, I was completely comfortable. Of course, it helps that Karachi is currently mired in the deep, dark days of winter. That six-week stretch when the mercury dips below 30 degrees, the air conditioners take a rest after their ten-month terms of service, and we all talk about how fantastic the weather is.
So I wonder just how much I’ve acclimatised? I have been here for over a year. I have lost a lot of weight. Will I freeze my ass on my triumphant return to the Great White North? It’s true, I [...]
Folks,
I have driven past your house hundreds of times, but it was only recently, while walking up Badar, that I had the time to notice the artistic travesty that is your home. For whatever reason, you decided to create the illusion that three metallic horses have burst through the front wall of your house. First of all, this is not a very convincing illusion. I am not convinced that you have a herd of metallic horses in your upstairs lounge in the midst of a catastrophic stampede. Second, I do not believe that these animals were somehow trapped there during the construction of the house, and if they were, shame on you. Third, I don’t choose to believe that the raging fury of the concrete-penetrating stallions somehow represents the ostentatious moral fiber of your family. However, this is mostly because I don’t believe in metallic horses. They’re not real.
In any case, it’s not cool. In my estimation, there is absolutely no need for you to have three horses charging through the front face of your house like a pink Cadillac at Planet Hollywood. I see no purpose: whether practical, aesthetic or artistic. In fact, there is only one way I will accept your decision to represent a trio of escaping equines through your exterior wall. And that is, if there are three horses’ asses represented on the interior wall of your dining room.
And if by some chance, you know me, or read this blog, please [...]
Adamjee: Actually, I learned to play bridge in junior high-school, I just didn’t have anyone to play with.
Me: Yeah, I don’t remember many kids playing bridge in grade 9.
Adamjee: So I ended up teaching my servants to play.
Me: Ha. You taught three, illiterate house-hold servants to play bridge with you?
Adamjee: Yeah. Took me months and months.
Me: Did it actually work?
Adamjee: Well, no. Not really… but it was worth [...]
Yesterday, I was driving somewhere through Defense Housing area. I wasn’t really paying attention, but I would guess it was Phase VII. We slowed for a speed-breaker in front of a Police Station where I saw the following huge sign:
Office Of The
Town Police Officer
Well, I’m glad he’s on the job. He’s got a bit of territory to cover in the ole town of Karachi, but he knows what he’s doing.
Somebody Call the Police! Oh never mind, he’s [...]
Folks, I have seen the baby pigeons, and they are ugly.
For years I have heard people speculating on the very existence of baby pigeons. There are no shortage of adult pigeons, white-washing statues the world over, but where are all the youngins? I have even had some folks tell me that pigeons must be born in an adult state. I always thought that a more plausible solution might be that they build nests under the eaves of buildings and such, where it’s difficult for all these baby-pigeon enthusiasts to track them.
Nevertheless, to all of you who still dream of the day you might see the elusive baby pigeon, let me just say one thing: Consider yourself lucky. They are not worth the trouble. After my sister saw some baby hyenas and warthogs in Uganda, she developed a theory that “baby” anything must be cute. Well, let me tell ya, when it comes to pigeons, you can toss that theory right out the window.
You see, this all started a few months back, when I heard some strange noises coming from the bathroom. Now, my bathroom is often the source of many strange noises, but usually only when I’m in there, so I was curious. I found two large pigeons roosting on my bathroom window sill. Since that window stays open all the time (for obvious reasons), the birds had shored up in the cozy, albeit smelly, refuge. I had no real problem with sharing the space, except [...]
The other day, I was an errand-running phenom. There was absolutely no stopping me. The shopping I had put off for weeks, suddenly came together in one fell swoop. My wardrobe quickly doubled with my purchase of two pairs of pants. Presents for various friends’ birthdays were located in record time. I found myself smiling in a shopping mall for the first time since the success of the lightening-strike, Christmas Eve shopping-blitz, extravaganza of 2001.
One gift remained to be purchased; I had one more stop to make. Unfortunately, the only shop I could think of that would have the item was located smack in the middle of Schon-Circle. Normally, I would shudder at the thought of venturing into the netherworld of that construction zone without a Dune-Buggy, but like a gambler I was riding my successful shopping streak. My bet was staying on the table. I was not to be thwarted! I knew that I could not fail. I strode purposefully across the parking lot to the White Baleno of Justice. The ole Baleno had been giving Subaru Kazoo some difficulties lately, but I was confident as I eased her grumbling through the lower gears. I popped the tape deck into action and listened to a mix-tape that Subaru had bought from a local shop. It was labeled, “Black Music,” which I soon discovered meant rap music.
I made my way down through boat-basin and waited at the intersection to make [...]
So yeah. Those of you who also check all the comments may remember that I was invited to participate in an open-mic Monday night. Propositioned through the blog… how exciting. I received a lot of encouragement from friends far and wide, so I decided to go for it. At first I was nervous about performing for a Pakistani audience, and I’ve always heard people say that 5 minutes seems like nothing, but is actually a lot of material. But I poured myself a drink and started jotting down ideas and in no time I had a page of notes to draw from. I had the opposite problem. I roughed out a general routine and then had to cut and slash it down to five minutes. Maybe I should just have my own comedy special.
Those who know me will attest that I have a, shall we say, slight tendency to procrastinate. So in typical Ford fashion, I didn’t really write the routine until the day before. I wasn’t too worried, because a) I’ve done the same thing for just about every event I’ve hosted or MC’d (I refuse to endorse the spelling “emcee”), and b) I tend to have everything simmering in my head, so writing it down is more of a means of ordering the bits and ensuring transitions. Another “problem,” if you want to call it that, is that new jokes to add always occur to me as I go, so it gets [...]
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We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time
-T.S. Eliot
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