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Discovering my personality

Monday, July 09, 2007

My brother hid my laptop today to cause me hell for beating him yesterday in our 3-hour, around-the-town bike race.

It's terrible, but instead of feeling shocked and terrified that someone would steal my laptop [which was my first thought when I noticed my laptop was missing from my desk], I was relieved for a moment that I could now buy a new one.

I'm such a consumer...

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The girls are back, the girls are back! Girl Power!!!

Thursday, June 28, 2007

If it were for some of my friends, they would be saying "stop right now, thank you very much...", but right now, I feel like "i'll tell you what i want, what i really, really want"... and my wish has been granted! The girls are back togetha!!! :)

Mind you, Posh Spice looks like her breasts are about to pop...and she must have some sort of a dominatrix complex...

Mel B still looks pissed at Ginger Spice and Baby Spice looks like a mom...Sporty Spice looks so cute, she is nothing like the butch men she used to make me think of with her muscles and ugly Adidas tracksuits...and may i add, tall sports shoes...nightmares are coming back...

But still I can't wait to see the girls together!

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You've been charged

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

It was 5:25 pm tonight when I received a call from a local police officer asking if I would be interested in translating for a woman who had been charged with uttering threats after a problem last night at the Waterford Hospital.

This sounded familiar, so I said I could certainly help with this.

Half an hour later, a new-style, Police PT Cruiser was parked in front of my house. This neighbourhood rarely gets police visits, so I could see the neighbours' drapes and curtains shaking as a rather attractive, built-up officer came toward me to get the idea of what had happened the night before, during my interpreting trip...

We headed towards the charged woman's house in the new PT Cruiser [wow, I was in a police car!]

As we approached the woman's house, the officer said that he had been told that the woman's husband is driving around town with no insurance on his car, which I found funny. He said he wouldn't go into that tonight, as that would lenghten the whole night, so he preferred to keep it to last night's incident.

We went to the woman's house and had a nice chat, her asking every five minutes if she was
going to prison. I told he what the charge was. She said it was all a misunderstanding and that she had in fact said "You are killing me by bringing my daughter to the hospital. I will have a heart attack by tomorrow if you don't help me get my daughter out tonight" to the translator.

This was quite a different version of what had been alleged she had said. The officer bought it and so did I. I think it was all a misunderstanding/something said in the heat of the moment. The charges were dropped.

I had a rather interesting chat with the policeman, as I got dropped off at my house, again, in a police car. It was impressive to see someone who was really sensitive to the differences between the two cultures [Albanian and Romani], as, sadly, with reason, I have grown to develop a very stereotypical and prejudicial view of the police force. He had a sociology and history degree and three years of police studies. Though his wife is a police officer, he doesn't "love" his job, saying it's not challenging enough and how local fraudsters and thieves are too easy to get. He is considering going back to school and studying law because he wants to defend people...

We called it a night and he promised he wouldn't charge me if he stopped me on the highway for driving too fast. Well, that's the least he can do. Otherwise, I'll just challenge him...in court. ;)

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I L.O.V.E. my job

Monday, June 18, 2007

Monday afternoon would have been a regular 9 to 5 day, except that it had to end at 5:30 pm, since I had to be in a webconference for three hours with a volunteer who is participating in a project I am supervising.

He brought timbits and I brought cake, so while we listened to lame "warm-up" jokes, we had something to "snack" on. We kept rolling our eyes while the presenters discovered the Powerpoint hi-liter. They presented materials on the web using Dialogue Conferencing, so the discovery of the hi-liter and the Post it! arrows was a big hit...while we snacked on our chocolate mocha cake and drank mango juice.

At 5:31 pm, I found myself answering the phone at the office, curious why anyone would call so late. It was a call from the director of the organization, asking that I go to the local mental hospital and translate for someone who tried to commit suicide.

I was at the hospital five minutes later, happy that finally, something more exciting than sitting in front of a computer screen and watching oddly matched Powerpoint backgrounds and fonts had happened.

The clients, a Romani family from Kosovo, were a young girl in her late teens and her parents. Next to them was a family friend, a hijab-wearing woman in her thirties.

Seemingly upset, the three jumped on me, happy that someone had finally come to help them. The matter had started much earlier in the day, when the daughter had called the local settlement agency and told them she was depressed because two of her uncles had died in the last month, due to health reasons. She told the interpreter [from Albania] that if she couldn't bring her uncle to Canada, she would kill herself. She added that she had problems with her family.

The interpreter, obviously shaken by what was said, immediately called the social worker and told her what was just said. The social worker decided that they would go to the girl's house and get her, take her to the local mental hospital, to protect her from harming herself.

This they did, except that they didn't have in mind the events that would follow their decision.

The girl's parents showed up at the hospital and, following the traditional Romani passion they are known for, splurted their anger at the interpreter, threatening that they would kill her the next day she would come to work. They accused her of trying to get their daughter declared crazy. The poor woman called for someone else to come translate while the doctor interviews the young girl.

This is where I got in. The girl begged me to do whatever I could to not leave her in the hospital. The parents kept talking at me at the same time, saying how wrong the interpreter was, how in fact, their daughter had no suicide plans and how she had said that she had problems bringing her uncle to Canada and not problems with her family IN Canada.

The doctor came. He decided nothing was wrong, that it was all a matter of misunderstanding due to the differing dialects of Albanian in Kosova and Albania. I mentioned to the mother that she should not put herself in trouble by threatening others. She said she would continue doing it because if she didn't, this same thing would repeat itself.

The family friend who now decided to get involved, asked the father and mother to be more understanding of their daughter. The mother said, "I gave birth to 11 children. I know better than you how to raise children". The poor single woman didn't have anything to add to that, so she turned to the father, who said, as he laughed: "My daughter's twenty already! she's too old to stay home! In our Romani tradition, I will find her a husband and get money for her wedding from her husband's family!" The woman, suddenly realizing how little she knows about the family, looked around to see if she could find the daughter.

The daughter was outside, speaking with one of the patients of the hospital. The woman she spoke with had had a child with a Bulgarian man. This brought the two together. The pseudo-suicidal girl insisted that the woman's son, who, by the way, was four, had been in the same refugee camp in Bosnia as the girl's family. The mother of the child looked at her and said "Well, you know, I AM crazy, but I do know where my son lived in the last four years...Where's Bosnia?"

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"Your power colour: Plum"

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Your Birthdate: October 8

Watch out Donald Trump! You've got a head for business and money.
You'll make it rich some day, even if you haven't figured out how yet.
A supreme individualist, you shouldn't get stuck in a corporate job.
Instead, make your own way - so that you can be the boss.

Your strength: Your undying determination

Your weakness: You require an opulent lifestyle

Your power color: Plum

Your power symbol: Dollar sign

Your power month: August
What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

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Why oh why

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Canadian Parents for French just e-mailed me to check if I would be interested in working for their national office in Ottawa for the summer, as a communications assistant.

I posted my resume on a job-finding website ten days ago, not expecting any responses....

Why does it have to be so far away? For the second time in two weeks, I say this again:
I wish distance didn't exist.

In other news, my big scholarship interview is this weekend. I don't anticipate a big "congrats! you got it!" at the end of June [when they send out letters letting applicants know], but it will be interesting to see what they will ask me. I can't wait for Sunday!!!

P.S: I'm still on away mode...this is just an "i'm alive" message

P.P.S: I had a blast at Starbucks with David last night. Not only did David get banned from Starbucks for stalking someone he went to school with, I met a fellow Albanian whom I'd chatted with long time ago. I also met his and David's mutual ex, who is hoping to make it big in fashion. They are all slightly eccentric and extremely talkative [a little bit too much for my taste], but funny and fun people nevertheless.... They may join Miranda B. and myself tonight, to an art opening at a boutique in Montreal's artist ghetto.

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Northern Chocolate

Sunday, April 15, 2007

[yesterday at the tennis club, two straight men in their mid- to late- forties talk after a game]

Clint Eastwood: Hey, Corleone, I meant to bring you some chocolate yesterday. A friend of mine who lives in the north came up with this amazing recipe... [is interrupted before he finishes]

Don Corleone: huh? Why would you bring me chocolate? I'm not your boyfriend or anything.

Clint Eastwood: [obviously feeling humiliated] Ummm, I just thought, I haven't seen you since Easter. It was just a late Easter greeting.

Don Corleone: Ok, ok, bring it. Chocolate is chocolate

[this morning at the tennis club]

Clint Eastwood: Arbër, could you take this chocolate, chop it up and leave it on the table, please?

[1.5 hours later, the game is over. Corleone and Eastwood come back. Don Corleone looks dumbfounded]

Don Corleone: Oh, so now all the members are your boyfriends?

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Mac Geniuses [Genii ?] and other miracles

Friday, April 13, 2007

On Tuesday, I found myself on the subway at noon time, trying to get to an appointment at 1 pm at the "Genius Bar", a bar in the Apple store where "Apple Geniuses" help you resolve issues you have with Apple software and hardware.

A friend had offered to help, but he could only take me there after 5 pm and since I work at that time, I couldn't really go then.

So I decided I should take the long route of going to one of the northernmost points of Montreal just so I could check whether or not these Mac people, to which AdamX was kind and smart enough to refer me to, could recover my ancient iPod, in which I had stored the interview I had done with Khadijah Bennis for my sociology course.

I took the subway and then had to get a cab to Carrefour Laval, a mall in Laval, a Montreal outskirt that will be getting a connecting subway station in two weeks (see metro stops De la Concorde and Montmorency. Sadly, the public transportation right now isn't very good, so if i had wanted to get the bus, I would have had to wait 40 minutes for my bus at the subway station, and then 25 to get to the mall.

After paying $20, I found myself in the middle of one of the largest malls in Quebec and probably Canada. There was a tiny map that probably should be updated because it had no info. on where the Mac store was. I hurried as, at this point, I was 5 minutes short to being late.

I got to the store where my name was shown in funky, clean-cut Apple font, on the fancy LCD screen on the wall. It faded in and out to show I was up next. I looked around and wondered how I could ever take out my Dell Inspiron in a place like this, should I ever have to use it to connect to my iPod.

After being directed by a man who probably got his spring look inspiration from Steve Jobs (round-rimmed sleek glasses, some scruff on the face, an Apple t-shirt), I took a sit on a leather chair and waited around to be assisted by one of the geniuses. At this point, I was extremely excited, as they don't call these people geniuses for nothing. Right?

So, Mike came and he introduced himself as a Mac Genius. "Genius" appeared right on the chest of his black t-shirt, in minuscule writing, making me think once again of the Apple religion. When I explained the problem to him, he asked if I had a USB key or drive where I could transfer my data. I told him that I only had my computer, but that I had the USB connector to transfer the files that way. He asked me whether the computer was Apple and was shocked to find out that I had a Dell.

As he looked around nervously, trying to avoid looking at me, he said that I should understand this is an Apple space and that the geniuses of this store support Apple for obvious reasons. I told him I did understand, but that I could only afford a Dell. I suddenly felt discriminated for my choice of computers. Mike the genius said "boy, you really like to live on the edge, eh? Ancient iPod, Microsoft computer...you should really think about changing your lifestyle". I was ready to burst into laughter, but the idea that he wouldn't take this very well stopped me. This "genius" had the power of recovering my iPod.

He looked around, walked back and forth and came back, only to say that he had nothing for me. He said I should send it to Toronto, to some service where it takes five days for them to take a look at my iPod and decide whether or not it's doable to restore the thing. Disappointed, I headed to the nearest Godiva chocolate store and bought myself a chocolate bar.

As I walked away from the larger-than-life Apple logo, I thought about this man and how seriously he takes his work. The way in which he talked sounded as if he were revering to the ancient god of bitten apple. This is the Apple prayer space and anything non-Apple is sacrilegous to the fruit computer company.

Though my iPod didn't get fixed and I was late to class by an hour, this trip was so worth it. I'm never going to Carrefour Laval again. Not using public transportation, anyway.

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My week in a sentence...er...i mean, paragraph.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Monday, March 26, 2007 - Provincial elections in Quebec. I went to vote, but unfortunately, couldn't, reason being, I haven't "officially" moved from NL (filled out a form with my new address). True, I didn't… Still, I wanted to vote for anyone but ADQ, Action Democratique du Quebec, an ultra right-wing party gaining power in Quebec. In fact, they gained so much power, they bumped Parti Quebecois, the province's leftist sovereignist party into the third place, getting in this way the balance of power in the first Quebec minority government in 129 years.


Tuesday, March 27, 2007 - I showed "The Laramie Project", the film about Matthew Sheppard to my high school students, in an effort to create some sensitivity around the issue of gay rights.

For the most part, the students took it well. One student who wasn't answering questions I put out for the class to answer ("What is happening in the movie?" and "how do the characters feel?") said he couldn't answer them because as a Roman Catholic, he thought it went against his religion. I told him writing what he sees does not go against his religion. I think he was just being lazy. At one point, I lost the attention of the class. Everyone was talking, few were listening, and since regular talk doesn't work with these boys and girls, I yelled at the top of my lungs and gave them a lesson on how they should always show compassion to others, no matter who the others are. I was so angry to have lost their attention, I think they (and me, too) were frightened of my facial expression after my fit. I looked at my supervisor after giving this "talk". She looked traumatized.


Wednesday, March 28, 2007 - Hanna, my Albanian student who is going to Kosova in just two months, presented her PhD research proposal at McGill on the state of Kosovar women in post-war Kosova. It was beautifully done. She has a great grasp of Kosovar culture, despite not being from there and despite only spending two weeks in Kosova a couple of years ago. After the proposal, we went to the McGill graduate student bar, where, out of all people, I saw my friend Ed who is usually in St.John's, so seeing him at the bar was super surprising. Hana and one of her friends had whiskey and cookies to celebrate (aside from their meal)…I stuck to water, roast beef sandwich (with horrible honey mustard seeds…ack…) and Oreo cheesecake…yummmm…


Thursday, March 29, 2007 - I went to a public discussion at McGill on racial profiling and police brutality. It was of particular interest to me because Khadijah Bennis, Anas Bennis' sister was there. I am writing a paper on Anas. Anas Bennis was shot twice by Montreal police on December 1, 2005, but no official version of the incident was given by the police, except for a short media release that said it was an act of self-defense because apparently, Anas Bennis, as he came out of the morning prayers from the mosque, made a run for the two officers on the street while he held a kitchen knife on his hand. The investigation, completed and finalized, was never submitted to the public, reason being "national security". A video from a neighbouring Bell Canada building, showing Anas Bennis being shot by the policeman was confiscated by the Montreal police and was never released to the family or shown to them. Khadijah said she doesn't know what that means because Anas was never implicated in any terrorist links.


Friday, March 30, 2007 - I interviewed Khadijah Bennis for my research paper. She is a super strong woman to be able to handle interview after interview after interview. I felt guilty for asking her to do another one, but she was very friendly and helpful. After the interview, I looked out onto St.Catherine street, where hundreds were coming and going everywhere, and I wondered why it had to be him, why we're so evil and mean, why we shun those different from us. It's naïve to ask these questions, but they are things that haunt me on an ongoing basis. I am saddened to see people like Khadijah who have lost a loved one, yet continue to hope for an explanation they so rightly deserve.


I went shopping so I would feel a bit better, though it didn't quite make a difference. I kept thinking about this young man and his death and how he died. He was not much older than me.


In the evening, Miranda Bradshaw, whom I was supposed to go dancing with, decided she is not into dancing and invited me to join her to visit Miss Chatterbox instead. We did, and had a lovely time. Miss Chatterbox is super-funny, witty and smart, and Mr Chatterbox is just as kind. They have a wonderful apartment at quite a good location and apparently, a great landlady.


I met Baroness Phoenicia, who loves dancing and hates photos. I am looking forward to going shaking it with her…


It was a wonderful night that ended at around 4 am (time I went to bed), only to start again two hours later for my weekend tennis club shift…la vita e bella :) ....By the way, these are Miranda Bradshaw's new shoes, not mine :P


Saturday, March 31 - A flirting session sprang from a regular chat with an acquaintance I met in Montreal six months ago. I told him I wanted to see him before we left and then he started saying he liked me, bla bla bla…We're going out for tea on Monday night.


Later on, my neighbour dropped by. A mix of Moroccan and Chinese ancestry, this young man is quite interesting. Two days ago, he knocked on my door and said he liked my music (Mika) and was wondering if he could borrow my CD. Last night, we had dinner together, where he revealed he is into transgendered women, though he doesn't like to call himself bi or gay because he still likes straight women. So I asked him if he was into guys and he added he liked very feminine guys…Hmmm, interesting. I'm glad I'm out of the picture :)


Over chinese noodles and his spices (he brought spices from his studio), we chatted about lots of things. He talked about how his mother is so controlling and how he only told his father, who said it's ok for him to be with men, but with transgendered women, that was pushing it a bit.


Sunday, April 01, 2007 - I started research for a paper due in two days on provincial jurisdiction drawn by the British North America Act of 1867. I may get to finish it up, though something tells me I won't. I've got dinner with Miranda Bradshaw and her buddies…it's her birthday.

The members of the tennis club are still talking about my table accident. Someone suggested today that the damage be reduced from my pay. Four others exclaimed that would be unfair and the person shut up. Oh, well, I suppose no more nice Arbër for him :)…


Today, I found out I won CAD $30 million on lotto 6/49.

















$30 million? Ummm, nah, just an April fools' joke :)

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Of straight men and their dating habits

I had a rather super-fulfilling week that left me asking for more, it was that good.

It started last Friday, when your blog hero called up a fellow Kosovar guy in his mid-twenties to go out for tea at a nearby tea shop (name of tea shop not to be disclosed due to risk of prejudice).

The encounter, of course, happened. However, much of the three-hour conversation revolved around the following topics:

A - The dating mentality of women,

B - The rules for dating women in Montreal, and

C - The rules for dating women in Kosovo.

D - General differences among the women of Kosovo and Montreal.


Now, none of these would have been discussed had it not been for Artan, a super-open former public service employee in Kosovo who happens to find himself in Canada for the first time in his life and who, in the last two months, as confessed to me and Leonard (my Kosovar friend), hasn't had any sex.


The man whom Leonard brought along because he wanted me to experience what he had to live through day and night (Leonard, while Artan was in the washroom, whispered: "Damn, why did I give him my cell number? He's worse than depressed women. All he does is talk about how he really needs to get laid." )


After much talk, the following was concluded about the above-mentioned four points:


A- Women like to be approached sometimes, and other times they don't. It all depends on the time of the month and how attractive you appear to them. Oh, and some times, they like to approach you.


B- Rule number one of dating women in Montreal: Don't be too forward. Play it cool, pretend you're so into you, you don't see the women around you. In fact, pretend you're so into you, you don't care about women (I can do this one easily)


You also have to always think women drool when they see you.


Physical features help get your point across, which is why Artan is in the gym four days a week (Leonard has given up…he's been here 8 years now)


Leonard showed a perfect example of what attraction can do: He pointed at Artan and said "Well, you're buffed up, but let's be honest, you gotta work on approaching them. I mean, some guys are so hot they don't even need to lift their fingers. They get anything they want. You (points at Artan), have a lot of work to do." I, of course, laughed, as I had, for a long time, forgotten how honest Kosovars can be sometimes. At least he didn't lie….Besides, it was a perfect example.


C- You have to be super-careful when dating women in Kosovo. Women in Kosovo dress in a very minimalist style, that is, they've embraced the post-modern fashion wear that's been promoted by all the who's whos and what's whats of the world. By post-modern minimalist fashion wear, I mean synonym for "skankiness".


So, back to Kosovar women (age 18-35, we're talking about).


In the words of Artan, this change of fashion wear comes partly from women's freedom to wear whatever they want. However, according to the "expert", this sudden boost in sales of tall leather boots and short mini-skirts, complemented by tight tees and belly-button piercings comes from competition that Kosovar women have. As Amnesty International and a number of other human rights groups have reported in the previous few years, Kosova has become the breeding ground for trafficked women forced into prostitution.


So, what Artan was saying is that Kosovar women now have to compete with Moldovan, Russian, Bulgarian and Romanian trafficked women, who are available to UN staff and NATO soldiers for ummm, well, money that Kosovar men can't afford.


In fact, Artan complained that ever since the war ended in the summer of '99, Kosovar women have seen the influx of hundreds of thousands of men coming for international, policy, aid and entertainment work in Kosova as a passport for their exit from Kosova. It doesn't matter how unattractive the men are. Their passports are doing the job, according to Artan.


As a result, poor Kosovar men who earn CAD$100, if they are lucky (Kosova's unemployment rate is upwards 60%) are left drooling, hoping that some girl will take pity on them.


D- General differences between the women of Prishtina and Montreal: In Montreal, you can meet a girl at a bar, have a one-night stand and get over it. Maybe you exchange numbers.


In Prishtina, you can meet a girl at a bar, have a one-night stand and get over it, but you will have the girl's family knocking on your door the next day. Though most Kosovar cities have become extremely liberal in this sense and families don't care what their sons and daughters do, the concept of sex for sex sake is still shameful in the Kosovar society at large and as such, is not practiced openly very often. You will not have a choice but to exchange numbers, after your one-night stand in Prishtina.


Artan, the man who's only been here for two months, already had a suggestion for a business:

Let's have a dating service for Albanian women and Canadian men. It's only logical, according to our little entrepeneur. It would be sort of like the Russian mail-in bride service, only it would have much prettier women, Kosovar women desperate to get out of the uncertainty and ready to live a full life.


I hope it is understood that my role in this conversation was simply as an observer and that aside from this, my participation in the discussion was minimal. As someone who takes no interest in women sexually, anthropologically and sociologically, I found this discussion most enlightening. I had objections, in fact, many of them, to the comments made generalizing the way women are in Prishtina and Montreal, but I decided to hold them off and listen to what these two intelligent men had to say, as I am not always exposed to raw points of view like this.


Leonard talked about his 12-year old brother, and how his little brother shares all the girl stories with him and how Leonard loves to give him advice, not just about the girls, but anything because he knows what it's like to be 12 and not have anyone to tell intimate things to. I thought about this and felt so much like hugging Leonard. I'm not being dirty, so get your dirty mind elsewhere :) …I remembered what I was like when I was twelve…My brothers had both been away and when they were home, I was the one listening to their stories… I didn't mind it then and I don't mind it now that I grew up that way.


I am just happy that Leonard is doing something because he knows what it's like to go through hard times. Some people forget, so it's good to know he remembers. That's why I would have given him a hug.


At the end of the day, Leonard suggested to Artan he go to the Village as he said there, no one cares about the rules. "You either jump a guy or you get jumped by one" were Leonard's wise words. We all laughed and Artan said if he doesn't get a woman soon, he just might have to resort to the last possible option…


Little does he know the Village is all about the rules, and that it matters a lot what your physical features are, how old you are, what label you're wearing, etc.


As I left, I told Leonard I was meeting my friend Renee later in the day. They were quite interested in meeting her, so I told them Renee was into Arab men. They said they didn't mind pretending they were white Arabs. They almost convinced me, too.. If the two weren't so desperate, I could have laughed. But instead, I hugged them both and wished Artan all the best.

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Desperate times call for desperate measures

Thursday, February 08, 2007

I was trying really hard to sleep last night...In fact, so hard that I turned off all the lights, found a local radio station online and turned it on (i sleep to whispers / quiet music / movie sound in the background / radio)...It sounded interesting, "Montreal's 24-hour news station".

I found out it wasn't a current affairs radio station when the announcer, in a super-deep voice and all seriousness, said "It's time for pennis talk". Suddenly excited about the thousands of ways this show could deal with human sexuality, I thought "hmmm, is this an open line show?" to get my answer a minute later.

"We're opening our lines for you to ask questions. Dr._____ from ______'s Hospital and I are here to help you with any problems you may be experiencing. Remember, talking about it is step one of the resolution of the problem ***groovy, Marvin Gaye-ish instrumental music is on***...And I think we have a caller on the line. Yes, caller?"

CALLER: Ummm, yes **voice trembling**, what do you do when he can't ejaculate?

HOST:
Well, that's a great question for Dr. ___.

Dr.____:
Well, the problems can be twofold: Physical and mental.

HOST:
Exactly! I answered a caller's question one day who said her partner was having ejaculation problems. Later in the conversation she said she knew for a fact he was cheating on her, so the thought of the other woman prevented him from ejaculating. Double-dipping doesn't always work!"

Dr.____:
*distracted* As I was saying, They can be physical or psychological. Physically, your partner may not be able to ejaculate because he may be diabetic, may have prostate problems or other health problems. I can't think of other reasons that may affect his ability to ejaculate.

CALLER:
Um, well, he's 50.

HOST:
Well, that's important.

DR.____:
Yes, after the age of 35, sperm count diminishes. His problem may very well be caused by the age factor.

HOST:
Caller, does he feel any sensation he felt when he ejaculated before?

CALLER:
*sounding depressed* No. He feels nothing.

HOST:
Hmmm, well, caller, hope we could help you somehow. As one of our first callers, you are getting a sex toy kit from the ____ store tonight. Keep listening!

CALLER:
*not sounding convinced* Thank you. *hang up sound*

HOST:
You're listening to Pennis Talk on _____ Radio, Montreal's 24-hour news station, with me, your host, _____ _____ and Dr._______ . And we go to our next caller...Yes, caller?

CALLER:
Yes, this question is for the doctor. I's 49. When should I get tested for prostate cancer? ..."

I wonder what she will do with a bag of sex toys...Poor woman, she sounded so depressed...and all I did was laugh and laugh...so much, in fact, I couldn't fall asleep for a half hour after that...

image credit: Cartoon Stock

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