Those living in this country know well that Canada’s roads have two seasons: Winter and Under Construction. This doesn’t affect me very much, but as a hardcore flâneur I do get put out by signs like these, all encountered in a single walk downtown I took this week. They put a cramp in my style!

This is an index page for my posts on things I see in my day-to-day life that just don’t add up. See if you can figure them out.

Prequel: (Not) From Concentrate
Part I: Food Makes Food
Part II: Fresh or Free
Part III: Book Sale Facilities
Part IV: Glacier Freeze
Part V: Crosswalk
Part VI: Price Rollback

Be thankful this was never your job! Stowing sails in a storm wouldn’t be something I’d sign up for. (You can click the pic to make it bigger.)

This is a crosswalk. I don’t know what the traffic rules and regulations are where you live, but around here these broad white stripes mean it’s a crosswalk. And that means vehicles stop for pedestrians.

But according to the sign this isn’t a crosswalk. It’s like any other stretch of road, where pedestrians yield to vehicles.

Except it’s painted as a crosswalk.

Of course, this particular bit of signage is on campus, which is a place with its own rules and regulations. So I guess anything goes.

Index

So I was just looking online for a new winter coat. As some of you may remember, I had a bit of trouble with this a few years back. Anyway, I was browsing through the discount offerings at the Wal-Mart and came across this product description that I first thought might be AI slop. Then I decided AI couldn’t be this bad. No, somebody, somewhere figured that this was the best way to sell a coat.

I resisted adding this particular item to my cart, as impressed as I was that it was made of “materials” and was guaranteed to make me look not just handsome but more handsome. I don’t know if the world could handle that.

So for those of you who enjoyed my previous post showcasing the wallpaper on display in a house that had been recently listed, here’s another. Actually a beautiful house and for the most part nicely turned out. The wallpaper in this bathroom though . . .

About a week ago I had someone make a series of comments on my reviews of a horror franchise over at Alex on Film. The comments didn’t come with a link to someone’s own web-page and the email seemed like a bot. They weren’t just spam though, as they were written in response to things I’d written and, more directly, to comments that others had made. They also made some relevant points. Not points I agreed with, but ones that I could shrug at and consider fair enough.

After holding them in my queue of comments awaiting approval though for about a week I decided to delete them. I don’t mind bad language (I use it myself), or even the expression of outrage, but the hostility seemed out of place. I won’t reproduce them in full, but here are how a few of them started:

“Fuck off cunt.”

“Imbecile. You don’t know shit.”

“Fuck off all you cunts . . . ”

As I say, the commenter goes on to make what are at least somewhat on-topic responses to the threads. At the same time, they just feel like someone trolling for a reaction and I didn’t want to bother. I guess this is common enough behaviour, but (assuming a human actually wrote the comments) it seemed to me like a line was being crossed.

I really don’t like deleting comments made by anyone, but at the same time I think we all have standards. I also wonder at how some people choose to interact online, and whether it’s a response to how they’re treated in real life and if it colours how they speak to people they meet in person. It would go some way to explain the increasing rudeness in behaviour that I see almost every day.

They just finished replacing all our condo decks this past month. Big project. The deck itself is smaller than this picture makes it look and I don’t use it all that much, but it’s nice that it’s there.

In the midst of a recent heat wave I went to pick up some drinks for the fridge just in case I wanted something a little stronger than my usual water. They had Gatorade on sale so I picked up a 6-pack of this stuff. Why this particular flavour/colour? Because it was all they had left. For good reason, as I later discovered.

In the store I didn’t even look at the label. I just figured it was blue and so probably had some kind of berry flavour. My bad. I thought it tasted like antifreeze. But then I don’t know what antifreeze tastes like because I don’t have a wife who’s trying to poison me. I had to be really thirsty just to get through one bottle.

But what was it supposed to taste like? Orange energy drinks are orange flavoured. Purple ones are grape. The red ones may be cherry but are more likely fruit punch. And this is what they’re called on the label.

This is called . . . Glacier Freeze? What does that mean? That it tastes like run-off from the Greenland ice shelf? For what it’s worth, I went online and found this AI slop:

Glacier Freeze Gatorade is widely understood and marketed as a blend of refreshing, subtly sweet citrus and berry flavors with a dominant crisp, cool taste. The exact composition remains a closely guarded secret, but the prevalent consensus points towards notes of lemon-lime combined with a hint of raspberry, creating its signature icy profile.

Unlike some Gatorade flavors that are explicitly tied to a single fruit, Glacier Freeze offers a more complex and abstract flavor experience. This ambiguity is part of its appeal, allowing consumers to project their own interpretation onto the taste. The marketing has also played a key role in shaping perceptions. The “glacier” imagery evokes a sense of icy coolness and cleanness, reinforcing the refreshing quality of the drink. The pale blue color further contributes to this association.

It’s essential to note that taste perception is subjective. Factors like individual taste buds, cultural background, and even the temperature of the drink can influence how someone perceives the flavor of Glacier Freeze. While the majority may identify lemon-lime and raspberry, others might detect subtle nuances of other berries or citrus fruits. Ultimately, the ‘true’ flavor is a personal experience, shaped by individual interpretation.

Yeah. Whatever. I guess it tastes like whatever you think it tastes like then.

Since all labels have to be printed in both English and French in this fair land, I spun the bottle around and found this.

All of which only told me (something I didn’t know) that the French word for “iceberg” is “iceberg.”

Index

If you’ve been following along with the saga of my basement renovations, turning a totally unfinished space into a library, here are the results. Still not much furniture but otherwise it’s mostly done.

This is how it looked to start. You can click on all the pics to make them bigger.

And here we are today from the same point of view, which is looking north.

And here we are looking south.

Turn the corner to the right at the south end and it wraps around.

And just turning some more to the right. That far wall is DVDs.

That’s about it for now. The island chests of drawers are for displaying and holding my bookmark collection. I haven’t put the bookmarks in yet. And I haven’t got much art up. But I’m getting there.

Next step is doing the upstairs shelves. The basement is for history, politics, and other non-fiction mostly, with comics and SF/mystery at the south end. The more literary stuff is going to go on the main floor and the loft.