Monday, February 22, 2010

Customizer III - Revenge of the Customizer

I have referred to my customizer a few times on this blog. The first time was when he brought his formidable skills to bear in updating my sunglasses until they were truly cutting edge technology. The second time the customizer worked on my glasses, however, his genius was beyond my grasp and the work he did finished my glasses off entirely, which contributed to me looking silly in public. Believe me, I need no assistance with that kind of thing. It was at that point that I determined, with a heavy heart, that he had gone somewhat mad and I could no longer allow him to work on any of my gear. Months passed in relative peace as the customizer grew more mature. His experiments on household objects came to a near stop.

Recently, however, the tables were turned. My friend had become unkempt and out of control in the grooming department. Drastic action was required and I ended up customizing him. The results were dramatic and his revenge was swift. But enough words. To the Pictures!




Because I am nothing if not a sensitive and considerate person, I immediately starting calling him "Dobby" because, well, he kind of looked like him...


But Dobby the Customizer wasn't going to take this lying down. Oh no. I left a big bag of kitchen garbage within reach (I couldn't have been gone for more than five minutes, I swear) and he customized that thing into oblivion:




That bag of garbage started out on this side of that gate. After some angry yelling, a little deep breathing and a slow count to ten, I cleaned up the mess while the customizer spent a little time outside. Even when he displays his mad proclivities, it is difficult to stay angry with this guy for long. Which is why there is already a sequel to "Customizer III - Revenge of the Customizer"...


Thanks for swinging by. Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Canada's Pride or Shame?

I'll bet you thought this post would be about the Olympics or Celine Dion or Howie Mandel or something. Despite the fact that Mrs. Rantwick and I are rabid Olympic watchers who despise all music and/or comedy, that is not the case.


You know those familiar radio jingles used to adverstise this or that business? In Canada there is a nation-wide chain of stores called Fabricland. I must admit that I don't know if the jingle is the same out west, but I'm guessing that it is.

Click the link below to hear this outrageous piece of marketing artistry. There is a period of elevator-type music meant for radio commercial voice-overs, but then they hit you with it, like, WHAM!

http://www.fabricland.ca/Fabricland-Jingle.mp3


I don't know if other Canadians share the same malady, but any time a trip to the fabric store comes up, Mrs. Rantwick, myself, one of our two kids or even all four of us may burst into this bizarre 6 syllable song. It's over before we even realize we did it. And we do do it, almost without exception. It's sick. How do you resist something you don't know is coming and is over before you can stop? It is stuck in our heads largely because it is so lame, yet we repeat it in all its lameness almost against our will. It is maddening.

I resent this jingle for wielding this strange power over me and my family. I must ask my fellow Canadians: are we just freaks, alone in our illness, or does it happen to you too? Answer me! I must know!


Yer-er Pal, Yer-er Pal!


R A N T W I C K