Orvil Had Died, Orvil (was found in the garage), Orvil Will Come Again

Eons ago, in a time when history and mythology were still united, Orvil the Orange walked among the teenagers of Forest Lawn. As with many of us who walked among the teenagers of this great 'hood, he met an untimely and violent demise (Actually he was just lost in a box in my garage; which makes me wonder if all my old youth group kids are also in a box somewhere in my garage?)

Orvil was the mascot for a weekly video I worked on as a part of the youth program when I worked at St. Luke's Anglican Church many years ago. Over the past week, Stacey's been working on a "proof of concept" claymation video for some youth-oriented promotional material to be used for a big youth outreach in Victoria, BC. She'd initially asked if I could find Orvil or some old Orvil footage, so she could use that to get the ideas flowing. I failed to find Orvil or any footage in time for her project, but luckily was able to find him in time to make a completely pointless claymation video for no good reason ('Cuz you know, after work, business, a day full of toddlerX2 and the rest of life, I have so much free time I'd just stare at the walls if it weren't for projects like this).



PS: Re-animating Orvil's little corpse made me feel really old, because the last time I put the paddles on him it was with a very expensive, cutting-edge Pentium 110mhz abacus ... Err, I mean computer. The encoding process alone took 8 hours (I'm not joking)! Making this new idiocy took just under an hour from deciding to do it to emailing it to Stacey.

Porcelain Pugilism

The "Kill My Toilet" contest finished with a bang (followed immediately by a disgusting goosh) on Saturday night. In case you missed it, the winning entrants explanation of why she should win was:
"I should win this contest because I have a very special relationship with my toilet and I am not allowed to reduce it to rubble even though I would love to. My relationship involves rounds of toilet hugging vomit-fests because the little parasite I like to call my unborn child is doing a great job of sucking all the life out of me. If I had a sledgehammer I might be tempted to go after my own toilet so you should give me the opportunity to kill yours before another toilet gets hurt."
Ahh, the sweet nurturing thoughts of a new mother (I know we're all looking forward to reading more of Michelle's motherly musings in the upcoming "Chicken Soup for the Soon-to-be-incarcerated Soul.")

To see the toilet get tanked, click on this link.

You'll probably need QuickTime 7 to watch the video. If you don't have it, it's free. Just click on this link and wait for your new, improved life to download right before your eyes.

I'm flushed with appreciation for all the relief each of your entries in this contest brought to me. I'm sad to see the contest end, but as all of us have been taught by the porcelain prophets in our tiled temples, all things must pass.

The Hideous Champions

The winner of the hideous face contest is the "gentleman" on the left side of this picture. Apparently the BC medical system has decayed to the point where even a member of the "got balls" gang can practice medicine out on Vancouver Island. That's as far as I'll go in revealing his identity, so you won't fear for your life if you ever meet him in an emergency room (although I hear he wears this toque at the hospital, so fearing for your life is probably unavoidable). The winner was chosen not just because of the hideousness of his facial expression, but because of the appropriateness of the prize.


In one of their frequent gangsta moments (see picture to the left), Emily and Kaylee suggested that the prize for this contest should be a "funky durag." (Should a father be worried when his 2 year olds walk around saying things like, "step-off sister" and "what's up baaaaby?") Our friend the "got balls" boy definitely needs an upgrade to a "funky durag" if he's going to tear up the streets and earn some 'spect.



Life is unfair and so are my contests. If the contest was judged on merit alone, the young woman below would have won. As it stands, she'll only have the comfort of knowing she was a just a durag's width away from winning. She too will remain anonymous, so as to not jeopardize her work as an undercover cop hunting down the "got balls" gang.

Contesting Canada Day

Here are the three folks who split the Canada Day party prize for the most audacious show of patriotism. I will let them remain anonymous to those who don't already know them, as they all have high profile positions in society that I don't want to jeopardize. I think it serves as a good challenge to you young whipper-snappers out there that the greatest show of audacity came from three people who just might be slightly over the age of thirty.

For their pains, these three Canadian heroes received a spectacular prize package which included (among many other things) a self-inflating whoopee cushion and a "Horry Petter" action figure (not to be mistaken for the less socially-awkward "Harry Potter").