RIP. Local business icon Nick Hill died yesterday. I never met Mr. Hill, but I've seen his television commercials so often that I almost feel like I know him. The charismatic owner of Kern-Hill Furniture Co-op was known for his tacky advertisements that were so incredibly lame that they actually became kind of cool. Many times we heard about the "incredible deals" in his store because his number one son had left the sofa-making-machine on once again. Each advertisement always ended with his friendly invitation to "come on... down!" Yeah, I'm kinda gonna miss that.

Even though CNN is a respected news source, they sure do have some stupid feature stories. Today at lunchtime, I turned to CNN Headline News to catch up on the latest developments in Showdown Iraq. (Don't you just love how the media always comes up with these catchy title slogans?) In the fifteen minutes that I watched, they had a story about an octopus that can open jars with its tentacles, as well as a five-minute-long feature story about the pets that have been left behind by diplomats who were ordered to leave Iraq. Apparently the diplomats are paying USD$17 per day for a vet to look after their goldfish and canaries (and kitty cats, dogs, etc.) until they can be reunited again. Yup. CNN. News that matters. Oh puh-leeze!

Oops! I did it again. (Or more accurately: Oops! She did it again.) Only a few days after getting the rear-end of her Toyota smashed in by a careless driver, my sister has managed to get involved in another accident, this time with my dad's pickup truck. Again, she was hit from behind. Again, it wasn't her fault (although I am starting to wonder just exactly how slow she actually drives.) Did I say "Ha ha?" In this case it appears that my sister will have the last laugh, because while we are here freezing our butts off, she just left for a holiday in Mexico. Doh!

Look... we just didn't know better, okay? Sheesh! Here's the story... last week during hockey, one of my team-mates got beaned in the head with the puck. He got hit right between the eyes, at about eyebrow level. After we dragged him over to the bench, we began the informal pool to see who would have the closest guess as to how many stitches he would need. (Editorial note: I won the pool! I guessed it would be six which was exactly correct.) Anyway, after taking a short breather, he naturally wanted to get back in the game, but being the responsible players that we are, we told him that maybe he should drive himself to the hospital and get his head stitched back together so that the bleeding would stop. After putting up a mild arguement, he reluctantly agreed with us. Our next game was three days later and he was right back in there, with his newly fixed up head and all. He even scored a goal for us. Now today I just found out that after that second game, he was experiencing strange dizzy spells and stuff like that, so he decided to go back to the hospital and have it checked out. After a few tests it was determined that he has a serious concussion and is now under doctor's orders to pack it in for the season. Not only that... he doesn't remember the game where he got hit, and he doesn't even remember going to the hospital or how he got there. Now his wife is all ticked off that we would have let the guy drive himself to the hospital in his condition, but seriously... he seemed totally fine! I mean, I get hit in the head all the time and it's usually not that big of a deal. Oh well. I'm sure she'll get over it by next season.

Today, I want to write about a bunch of asses. Literally. Let me explain... There was an article in today's local newspaper about a guy from my hometown who raises "guard donkeys." It turns out that donkeys have a natural hatred towards dogs and other dog-like animals (including wolves, coyotes, foxes and so on.) Not only do donkeys not like dogs, they will actually try to kick the crap out of them and I hear that they're pretty darn good at it too. A donkey can dish out a pretty mean kick, and is able to kick forwards, backwards, or sideways, and can kick while standing still or while running. Anyway, sometimes cattle ranchers have problems with wild animals attacking their herds of cattle. That's where these guard donkeys come in. The donkeys are rented out to the ranchers (the going rate is CAN$300 per donkey per season.) Once the donkeys are placed within a herd of cattle, the donkeys develop a possessive and protective attitude towards the cattle. They feel like they have to take care of them. After this point, if any unfortunate varmits (such as a wolf) were to try to attack the cattle, they would feel the full wrath of the kick of the guard donkey. The ranchers love it! They say that by renting two guard donkeys for a large herd of cattle, the herd will be protected from pretty much anything. Apparently this is the next big thing! I love it. Who'd have thought that a couple of real-life jack-asses would be the heros of the day. (Yes this is a true story. But I think the best part about guard donkeys are all the jack-ass jokes that come so naturally while you talk about the donkeys.) And besides, just think of it: guard donkeys! How utterly cool is that? I really can't think of anything cooler than guard donkeys.

I shouldn't laugh, but I'm going to anyway. "Ha ha!" (Read that with a Nelson Muntz type of voice.) This past weekend, somebody that I know very well decided that her car was just a little bit too long. So she decided to have it shortened it by a few feet! Well, to be fair, it sounds like the car driving behind her played a bit of a role in the incident. (I won't name any names, but lets just say that this "mystery girl" happens to share the same set of parents as I have.) Guess it's time for her to go car shopping, since Autopac has decided that the "short car" is no longer worth driving. Bummer. I think it would have looked kind of cute to be driving around in a "Toyota Mini."