September 2007 to December 2008

Well, my time here at NAIT Radio and Television has reached its tenor.
In fact, today is my last day of actual classes.

So that's basically it for college. I guess you could say I'm happy to move on, get out in the world, become a productive member of society, start being a role model for children.

Holy shit, what? I have to do that stuff now?

Last month I was running around with my pants pulled up way to high, trying to see if I had the ever elusive, yet always feared "Mom Bum", and next month I have go out and start setting examples for people. Man. I don't even know.

The prospect of moving away and starting a life for myself is actually pretty exciting, but I still can't get past the fact that I, Pat Mckay, the rootinest, tootinest hombre in Radio and Television, will have to become Pat Mckay, the responsible adult.

That doesn't roll off your tongue at all.

Seriously, think about it. Picture me right now in your head. What do you picture? Me hangin' out and being an idiot.

So there's me as it stands; nervous and scared to start life. But hey, isn't anyone in my position thinking the same thing? Maybe I should suck it up and stop being such a douche about it.

In closing, as my time here at NAIT comes to a close, I would just like to say...

It's been a pleasure.

Everyone who is in my class right now. Anyone who has been in my class at one time. Anyone who has had the privilege to teach me (haha). Anyone in different semesters who has talked to me, or hasn't talked to me, or has no idea who the hell Pat Mckay is, or has seen some guy on television wearing green spandex but thought he looked like a dork. Anyone that I have interviewed for assignments, or stories, or anything. The parking cops who have given me so many damn tickets. The fresh express ladies who always have interesting to say. All of you.

Thanks. Thanks for giving me a year and half that I probably will never forget.

10 things that I love. 10 things that I hate.

10 Things that I love (in no particular order);

1. Oilers hockey and hamburgers on Saturdays.
2. Music
3. Driving
4. Coffee
5. Telling the news and sports
6. Cigarettes and alcohol
7. Just hangin' out
8. The New York Yankees.
9. People who can be complete dicks and get away with it.
10. I should probably say my friends and family.

10 Things that I hate (also in no particular order);

1. Red sox/Flames/Stampeders/Riders fans. All of them.
2. Bad drivers/pedestrians/cyclists
3. Musicians telling people to overthrow their government/political debates
4. Hardcore punk rockers and their hardcore punk fans.
5. People who spaz/pessimists
6. Dishonesty
7. Airport security
8. When things I love are ruined/interrupted by things I hate.
9. Having to do things I don't want to do.
10. When people tell me what to do, how to do it, when to do it, and then tell me I'm doing it wrong.

In no particular order, these are the things I love and hate. These aren't all the things that I love and hate, these are just the things that I was able to think of while writing this. Maybe if I remember more later I'll write them down.

How I wish I could Be.

In short, I wish I could be Liam Gallagher.

He is one of the most outspoken people in the history of people. If he doesn't like something, or someone, or anything, he'll call it/them/anything, a "wanker" or "rubbish".

I know rubbish is just a ten dollar word for trash, but he's so British that it sounds so awesome when he says it.

And guess what? He's one of the most successful musicians ever. None of that has dragged him down, or really tarnished him in any way. Because he doesn't let it get to him. He just doesn't care what people think, because most people are "wankers".

That is soooo cool.

I wish I could say whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, wherever I wanted, and totally get away with it like he does.

Sometimes I wish I could just not care about things that aren't really important.

It's like....He's Liam Gallagher. He knows he's better than you, because he's Liam Gallagher. And if you don't like it, tough. He's Liam Gallagher, and you're not.

He has so much confidence in himself...maybe cockiness, maybe some other variation of the word...but whatever you call it, he has it. So he doesn't have to care about what he says.

Now I know that I can come off as cocky and over-confident, but I don't think I'm in the same league as Liam Gallagher. Although it would be sooooo cool if I could be.

You can't touch him. He's Liam Gallagher.

A song that is good that I like.

I like this song. It is by Incubus. It is one of my favorite songs. You can't really tell how good it is, because these are just some of the words in the song, and you can't hear them. The song is called;

"Punch Drunk"

It's not off of any of their albums released in North America, but it was one of the bonus tracks in Japan, from their newest album;

"Light Grenades"

I'm kind of sad they left the song off of their North American release. It's pretty good.

Where did I park my car?

If I found it I would drive so far, from here.

The city streets are dim.

And my hands are tempted once again, To give in...

I'm having trouble seeing, I'm punch drunk and I need to find a way back home, It'd be a miracle if you'd oblige.

I will survive, On this island i am stuck, Could you correct my crooked luck tonight?

So that is the first bridge and the chorus. I wonder what it would be like to be wandering around, not knowing where your own car is, not being able to see very well, being completely at the mercy of someone passing by.

On the road my thumb is out.

I'm hitchin home tonight I am without, a name.

Where was it that I lived?

Well nevermind just take me with you And, forget...

The lack of information, I'm punch drunk and I need to find a way back home, It'd be a miracle if you'd oblige.

I will survive, On a silent I am stuck, Could you correct my crooked luck tonight?

I will survive, Tonight I wander and I roam, Just lookin for a way back home tonight.

What kind of emotions would a person who is stuck in this kind of situation be feeling? Would you even feel emotions, since you are Punch Drunk?

The sun is coming up.

I think I've had my fill.

Wait, who the f### are you? Where did I park my car?

Please forgive my...

Lack of information, I'm punch drunk and I need to find a way back home, It'd be a miracle,

Ohhh.

I'm having trouble seeing, I'm punch drunk and I need to find a way back home, It'd be a miracle if you'd oblige.

I will survive, On this island I am stuck, Could you correct my crooked luck tonight?

I will survive, Tonight I wander and I roam Just lookin for a way back home tonight.

Spare me... a ride, a ride tonight.

Spare me... a ride, a ride tonight.

(On this island I am stuck Could you correct my crooked luck tonight?)

That is one of my favorite songs. Whenever I listen to it, it always makes me wonder. Wonder about, anything...and everything. It's one of those songs for me that opens up my mind, and I think of any situation possible. I don't really know why.

Man. I'm so deep.

Centurion

Oh man, beer is so good. The nectar of the gods, as far as I'm concerned. Although an acquired taste, it is possibly the greatest beverage ever created. How many different kinds of beer are there? Hundreds! There are ales, and lagers of all different tastes, and strengths! You're kind of worried you might pack on the pounds? Try a light beer. In a drinking competition? You go for a darker beer. In fact, after water and tea, beer is the most popular beverage on the planet.

I feel very strongly about beer, as do many people. But after drinking beer for many years, last year I began to grow tired of it. Not the beer itself, but the method of drinking it. I grew tired of pounding back pint after pint, of funnelling bottle after bottle, shot gunning can after can. I needed something more. And then my friend Paul told me of a new drinking game. Centurion.

The definitions of Centurion on Urbandictionary.com are as follows;

1. Centurion;
Sinking 100 shots of beer in 100 minutes. Without chundering or missing one.

2. Centurion;
100 shots. 100 minutes. Can be done with any alcoholic beverage not just beer. 1 person times on a watch and the participants must take another shot the moment a minute has passed. It's especially difficult to reach 100.

So I, and my friends Ryan and Cullen decide to take a trip out my cabin at Wabamun lake to have a go at drinking 100 shots of beer in 100 minutes.

It starts out pretty well, we crank the tunage, pour out the beerage, and do some drinkage.

10 Shots in:

I'm feeling great! This is the best idea ever created! 100 shots will be peach and cake!

20 Shots in:

I start to feel the beer sloshing around inside my stomach, but otherwise I am doing great.

30 Shots in:

I turn the music louder and begin to triumphantly march around the cabin, proclaiming that "I am Centurion!"

40 Shots in:

I'm really starting to feel the effects of the beer, so to shake out the cobwebs, I start to dance with great intensity.

50 Shots in:

I am now drunk. Dancing and marching is becoming difficult. Cullen has already stopped. I tell him he is not a man.

60 Shots in:

I am now very drunk, and the beer sloshing in my stomach has now got me feeling under the weather. I bet Ryan I will beat him.

65 Shots in:

I am absolutely trashed, wrestling with Ryan in between shots.

68 Shots:

Ryan pushes me over a couch and feeds me a fist to the stomach.

69 Shots:

Dancing, marching, wrestling, and being hit take their toll on me. I nearly break the door off the hinges as I run outside. 69 shots of beer come out the way they came in, as the neighbours gardener watches and cheers. Ryan announces he is the winner, and true Centurion.

I haven't attempted to reach 100 again, but I am starting to get a little bored of pounding, funnelling and shot gunning again, so maybe I'll give it a shot after third semester ends.

Pat's Never-Fail Guide on How to Pick Up Women at Bars.

It's an art form, really. There is no one perfect way to do it, and it takes a lot of resiliency to keep at it (often because success rate, even for pros, is about 67 percent). But after frequenting clubs, bars, pubs, galas, dance competitions, social gatherings, and maybe even the odd funeral, I've come up with a way that practically works every single time. Again, it's not fool proof, but this method has bumped me up from 67 percent to at least 85, and yes girls, you can use this on guys too. I'm super serious.

Step One:

First of all, find your target, but do it all sneaky like so said target doesn't notice you. It's okay if they're with a group of friends, because this tactic will likely win over the entire group. Give yourself some distance, not too far away, but not to close either. This is purely a judgement call.
Now, you're all set to mack it up.

Step Two:

Stare at them. Unblinking. Haha, just kidding, you can blink, but make sure you don't look away at all. Don't make it creepy, but make it obvious that you're not looking at anything else. Now wait. When they notice, and make sure they are looking directly back at you, you can move onto;

Step Three:

Here, is your choice between the robot and the dead fish dance. If it's your first time trying out the process, I recommend the robot. It's a little easier to do, and doesn't require as much...oomph. Don't do the robot exceptionally well, though, do it like you're not a good dancer but you're trying really hard. Make it choppy and unco-ordinated. If you're confident enough, and you feel you can really boogey, then you can attempt the dead fish dance, which is when you go as stiff as a board with your arms at your sides, and flail your upper body around while keeping your legs completely still. It can be a bit challenging, but when pulled off correctly, it can single handedly put you in business. Make sure while you are dancing, that you don't break eye contact with the target. Remember, this is crucial. You want to make it seem like you are doing this for them, and NO ONE ELSE.

Step Four:

The target will inevitably laugh, and when they do, you give a little chuckle yourself, shoot 'em the double guns, and call them over. Make sure you look confident about doing this whole routine. If you look scared or intimidated at all, the target will know, and you will be for all intents and purposes, a piece of garbage. When they come over, you're really on your own for chit chat, but this maneuver will have them so spell bound that you could basically tell them you kill homeless people and bury them in shallow graves by the interstate, and they will still love you.

The fail safe for this, is if the target ends up shaking their head and shooting you a look of disgust, they are probably not the kind of person you want to be talking to anyways. I guess you could say, this strategy is really just an awesome finder.

So there you have it! The easy Four Step method on how to attract the opposite sex. Go ahead, try it out at your next Bar Mitzva.

Smells

I have recently been alerted to the fact that I smell like things that I havn't even been around for at least a week.

First of all, who tells people that? That's just rude.

Secondly, is that even possible? I mean, at least once every day I stand naked under a stream of warm water and rub soap all over my body to clense myself (ie; showers) and afterwards I smell like a daisy, that just took a shower and rubbed itself with soap.

Seriously, there is no way that a smell can last a week when you have showered at least seven times since you were exposed to said smell maker...unless we're talkin' about that episode of Seinfeld where that guy with the B.O. parks Jerry's car and it stinks even after getting professionally cleaned. But that smell was the beast.

I was accused of smelling like coffee and cigarettes. I mean yeah, I was drinking a coffee at the time, but the smell accuser took a whiff of my forearm. That stuff aint coming out of my pores now is it?

Okay, you might be saying, "But Pat, coffee smells good to most people, why are you worrying?"

Because! Thats why!

No one likes it when they are told they smell, unless the word following "You smell" is good. Read that one twice, I kind of worded it weird, but this is my blog, I'm not going back to change it.

To close, don't tell me I smell. Instead, tell me about how my shirts and or hats really bring out the blue in my eyes.