So you're from Canada, eh?

Just your average
eastern Canadian with
big hopes and dreams.

Two months after
my son was born
my mother sat me down
and told me I needed to get
a hobby or else I would
go insane raising a baby
on my own.

I made a blog...
that counts, right?

Some statistics about online dating…

Average courtship for marriages met online 18.5 months
Average courtship for marriages met offline 42 months
Percent of sex offenders that use online dating to meet people 10%
1 in 4 couples meet online
80% of users lie about their height, weight or age
Online dating is a bigger business than pornography
51% of all online dating people are in a relationship, only 21% are really single and 11% are married
One out of 10 users are only present on dating sites to scam others.
Women lie less on their online dating profile than men do.
3% of online dating men are psychopaths

Killer roller coaster?


The Euthanasia Coaster is an art concept for a steel roller coaster designed to kill its passengers.In 2010, it was designed and made into a scale model by Julijonas Urbonas, a PhD candidate at the Royal College of Art in London.The coaster reaches a height of 510-metres(1,670 ft) (0.317 mile),which would take two minutes for the 24-passenger train to reach.From there, a 500-metre (1,600 ft) drop would take the train to 360 kilometres per hour (220 mph), close to its terminal velocity, before flattening out and speeding into the first of its seven slightly clothoid inversions.

The gravitational force put on the passengers by this ride is 10 Gs, enough to kill a person.The Euthanasia Coaster would kill its passengers through prolonged cerebral hypoxia, or insufficient supply of oxygen to the brain.The ride’s seven inversions would inflict 10 g on its passengers for 60 seconds – causing g-force related symptoms starting with gray out through tunnel vision to black out and eventually g-LOC (g-force induced loss of consciousness). Depending on the tolerance of an individual passenger to g-forces, the first or second inversion would cause cerebral anoxia, rendering the passengers brain dead.

The idea behind this roller coaster is to give people a chance to have a lot of fun before they die.

1800s vampire killing kit.

The vampire legend originated from the disturbing appearance of decomposing bodies that had succumbed to the plagues that ravaged Europe between 1300 and 1700.

During those epidemics, mass graves were often reopened to bury fresh corpses and gravediggers would stumble into bodies that were bloated by gas.

Featuring a hole in the shroud used to cover their faces, these bodies showed individuals with their hair still growing, their teeth appearing through the shroud, and blood seeping out of their mouths.

In a time before germ theory, when the decomposition of corpses was not well understood, these individuals appeared like they were still alive, drinking blood and eating their shrouds.

The twins are as delicate as the fairies for whom they were named, small for their six years on earth, with pale skin, long feathery lashes and pretty, glacial green eyes.

Their heads tilt gently toward each other as if by choice, or a gesture of affection, the exact place where their skulls are fused barely visible behind wisps of brown hair.

When they sit, or kneel on the ground to page through a book, their bodies lean in, head-to-head at the tip, then arc to either side, outlining the shape of a single, perfect heart.

Today they perch on a sofa between the two women raising them in Vernon — their grandmother, Louise McKay, and their mother, Felicia Hogan.

Louise covers Tatiana’s eyes.

Felicia holds up a small stuffed animal in front of Krista’s open eyes.

“What am I holding?” she asks Tatiana.

Tatiana, her eyes completely covered, hesitates.

Her mother prompts her. “Tati, look through your sister’s eyes.”

There is a pause, a breath held.

Then Tatiana, eyes covered, somehow floats into her sister’s brain: “The Lorax!” she announces.

In order to see through each other’s eyes there is some internal shift, a decision, as if each sister’s soul moves over and makes space for the other.

The twins are as delicate as the fairies for whom they were named, small for their six years on earth, with pale skin, long feathery lashes and pretty, glacial green eyes.

Their heads tilt gently toward each other as if by choice, or a gesture of affection, the exact place where their skulls are fused barely visible behind wisps of brown hair.

When they sit, or kneel on the ground to page through a book, their bodies lean in, head-to-head at the tip, then arc to either side, outlining the shape of a single, perfect heart.

Today they perch on a sofa between the two women raising them in Vernon — their grandmother, Louise McKay, and their mother, Felicia Hogan.

Louise covers Tatiana’s eyes.

Felicia holds up a small stuffed animal in front of Krista’s open eyes.

“What am I holding?” she asks Tatiana.

Tatiana, her eyes completely covered, hesitates.

Her mother prompts her. “Tati, look through your sister’s eyes.”

There is a pause, a breath held.

Then Tatiana, eyes covered, somehow floats into her sister’s brain: “The Lorax!” she announces.

In order to see through each other’s eyes there is some internal shift, a decision, as if each sister’s soul moves over and makes space for the other.