Saturday, 6 June 2015


Hi, I would like to deposit this $20 check please.

It's a US check.

(Yes.  That's why we are spelling it check. If it were Canadian it would be a cheque.)

Yes. That's why I am giving it to you, the teller, instead of depositing it in the Instabank.

(Again, Canadian. In the US we could deposit it at the ATM).

You don't have a US account.

Right. That's why I am giving it to you. Please see above.

I will have to charge you $5.

$5? On a $20 cheque check?

You're right. That seems silly. Ok I will waive the fee.

Check deposited, fee waived, am back in car writing blog post in my head.

Did you deposit the US check to my account?

Yup. Just like you asked me to.

Did you not realize it was a US check?

No, I knew. That's why I've been saying check instead of cheque.

So why didn't you deposit it to the US account?

We have a US account?

Complaining Lessons Learned:
1. You can politely ask people at the bank to waive fees and most of the time they will.
2. If you use the Instabank and you get unreasonable fees you can call after and ask to have them waived. This sometimes works.
3. You may complain about your husband not listening when you talk to him, but maybe sometimes you're the one not listening.

Friday, 5 June 2015

Reprinted With Permission Of The Author, B., My 16 Year Old Son

2015 McEntyre Contest Grade 10 Winning Essay

George, The Shark Who Wanted To Be A Whale.

A while back, my buddy George wanted to be a whale. See, the whales were the fly party mammals in our school of fish. They would get drunk every weekend, they got all the girls, they made the rules, and people really looked up to them. And although George longed to be like them, he was born with an unfair disadvantage… George was a hammerhead shark.
George was getting sick of being considered weak and small, when he pitched the idea to me: we would help each other become whales; WE would be the cool kids in the ocean.
“George, listen. As great of an idea as that is… it sucks.”
“What are you talking about, Paul? We have a responsibility as sharks to become whales.”
“What would your mother say about this?”
“She doesn't have to know! She’ll think I ran away or something, she’d never recognize us in our new form.”
As you can see, I was hesitant, for many reasons. Reason Number One is that I had been going to the gym recently, getting in shape. To be a whale, I would have to screw all of that and become obese. Reason Number Two is that I kind of like living the ‘shark life.’ There are many perks, like being starred in Shark Week, on the Discovery Channel - I was an extra last season.
I lost the battle with George, as always, and ended up on a journey to whale-dom. First, we made a list of all of the qualities a whale must have:
-dark blue
-their eyes are like on either side of their heads
-small fins
Next, we tried to emulate these qualities. To get fat, we headed over to the Krusty Krab and ate burger after burger after burger. By the end of the night, we were each 300 pounds larger (sharks have slow metabolisms.) The following quality was their colour, dark blue, which required a lot of spray paint and took like six hours. But what came after were the most crucial qualities.
“Bro, I’m not gonna let you perform surgery on me. This is getting ridiculous.”
“Listen, how ‘bout you do it to me first, and if it doesn't work, you can go home and tell everyone that I’m insane,” suggested George, holding duct tape, a scalpel and a power drill. I agreed, reluctantly.

Step One: pull his eyes toward his temples, and hold them in place with the duct tape.
“Oh, God, do you want me to stop?!!”
Step Two: use the scalpel to slice off half of his left and right fins.
Step Three (The Final Step): make a deep hole in the top of his head, using the power drill.
There was no response.
“George? Come on, buddy, we’re leaving. Hello? George? NO! George, don’t leave us! You’re not ready to go! Please? Hello?”

George was dead. He died chasing the one dream that he thought he could achieve. He died trying to gain respect, for once in his life. He tried to stand up for himself. Anyways, now I’m being convicted for second degree murder. My lawyer says that I’m looking at 20 years… Don’t follow your friend’s dreams. Just, work on your own.

Monday, 1 June 2015

Now Available in Leopard Print

One of my friends well not really my friend but sort of a friend of mine ok fine a guy I know was caught shoplifting, says G, 14 year old son.

Guess What He Was Stealing.

Gum? Money? Food for his starving family?

Yeah, right.

Nail polish? Water bottle? A Car?

Mom come on. This Is Serious.

A gerbil? 

He was stealing shoes.

Like left his shoes in the store and tried to walk out with new shoes?

No. He put the new shoes into his backpack. Got picked up by the police. 

Oh My G-d. That must've been so embarrassing. Can you imagine how he felt having to call his parents with that one? Oy.

Oh yeah Mom. His parents were really pissed.  He's grounded for six months. But you know what Mom if he was my kid I wouldn't've grounded him.


I would've had a much better punishment.


I would've taken away ALL his shoes.

And he would've had to go around barefoot?

No. Worse than that. 


I would have left him with only one pair of shoes.  

I don't think that's much of a punishment G.

Oh yeah it is. I would've left him with Crocs.

Complaint Tie-In:

Kids who shoplift shoes and get grounded have absolutely nothing to complain about because had G. been asked for advice they would have a way worse punishment.