Friday Facts: Pokemon!

The Rosewood Rabbit

This weeks Friday Facts topics is:
Pokemon!

This is no boring Facts Session, ok?
I dug up some of the weirdest facts I could find about Pokemon, from hardcore gaming webpages.

Ready for this?

1. Slowbro is the only Pokemon that can de-volve. Fandom has it if the Shellder is removed from the Slowbro’s tail, then the Slowbro will turn back into a Slowpoke.
2. Arcanine was going to be a Legendary! Say what?
   Yep!
3. Ditto is thought to be a failed attempted at cloning Mew. Thoughts behind this reasoning:
   • the two Pokemon share the same weight and stats.
   • similar color palette
   • they are the only two Pokemon that can learn Transform naturally
   • both can come in shiny and non-shiny forms.as well as using a similar color palette both in shiny and non-shiny forms.
   • in 1st gen. games, both Mew and Ditto can only be found in: the Pokemon Mansion, where Mewtwo was cloned; and in…

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Familiarity in the City.

This morning I found familiarity in this unfamiliar city. 

I recently moved to the town I live in now, and for a while it was so strange that it was overwhelming. 

This morning I found comfort in routine. At my transfer stop, during my daily commute to work, everyday two Asian women sit in the same spot; a kid on a bike comes flying down the side walk, an older man close behind him; and the same desheveled red haired woman sifts through her belongings. This happens every day, never failing.

With the Fall breeze, and the smell of baked goods in the air, and these never failing occurrences happening I couldn’t help but smile at the place I needed to start calling home.

I Think Someone Is Naked

As I walked toward the bus stop, on my way home, I saw a pair of paints on the ground to my right, bunched into a puddle against a building. I thought nothing of it.
As I continued on my way, a shirt littered the sidewalk to my left.
I went another block and one shoe lay crumpled, face first into the pavement; and then it’s partner, after another intersection, sitting upright and disoriented, leaning against a wall.

I couldn’t help but imagine that, on this damp Fall afternoon, someone is walking about main downtown, naked… or, possibly in their undergarments.

Googled into Heaven

 

“Jesus Christ!” I yelled running after my bus, feet in hitting the pavement with dull thuds, as it drove away.
This accursed window at a layover stop on my way home. It has flashing lights and things about God culture, but it is never open. I go to the window every time to see what is new or what has changed, if anything.

This time as I stood in the window reading the name of the book now on display (it’s name and author stickered on to the lower left edge of the glass) I wondered how Google could ever get someone into heaven; wondered why places go through the effort and money of stickering the glass for a someone, if that place will never open to sell the product/author.
…Or maybe that’s the point. An unobtainable place, closed to those [deemed] on the outside.
Members only.

As the strobe light kept my attention, my brain tracked the reflection of the bus in the window. The hiss of the breaks brought me back.
“Oh!” Basketball as a child had taught me to pivot quickly. “Jesus Christ!” I yelled as my bus drove away. “Fuck” and it was gone.
“…Sorry,” a watching young man,  standing at the stop, chimed. I looked at him in confusion.
“Why? It wasn’t your bus.”
“Alright… You’ll be waiting a while,” he replied looking back at his phone.
“Oh well, it is nice out.”
He looked at the overcast sky .”I guess. It’s not raining, at least.”

The next bus came quickly, 4 minutes later actually.
As I dug through my pocket for my transit transfer I turned my body slightly in his direction and said, “hm, that was quick,” baring my teeth in a chimpish smile. His face flushed red for a millisecond.
“I wonder,” I continued as the bus doors opened, “how does someone Google their way into Heaven?”

Adventures on the Greyhound: The Shaking Man

 

No one wanted to sit next to the shaking man unless they had to.

Or maybe they just didn’t feel welcome as he sat there shaking his head no-no-no-no-no at them, by no fault of his own.

A young woman denied his offer of the seat next to him, in order to hunt a remaining seat down near the bus bathroom.

I think that maybe I should take the seat next to the shaking man, so that we might both not feel so cast out.

Con-tact!

I don’t keep in touch with people often I’ve noticed, and if I keep in contact with you every day that is basically a miracle in my books. I have 2 people in my life (3 max) that I contact everyday, out of want. 

I am not sad about it, I do it for my own reasons; but I also felt semi guilty about it tonight. 

[Beat]

I just got on a bus between now and the last sentence… and kind of forgot why I started this post.

[Beat.]

Right. 

I have a friend who says “I thought u died” too often to me. I came to this guilty reasoning when I told him “[…]be honored. I keep in touch with no one this often…  except M and my coworkers.”

…is this not pretentious? Jesus.

His reply: “Lol feel honored? I’m your friend I need attention.” And he is right. 

Friday night a coworker I am befriending asked me who my other friends in Toronto were, besides her. I took a second. I had to because I had no answer for that split second. Number of friends is not my issues here, but the topic itself. Every time people ask me about it I find it a weird topic to reply to.

It’s a strange way of living but I keep my friends like secrets. They are my friends and we will be seen in public together and stories may be told aloud, but the thought of just blabbing on about friends is a strange concept to me. Not much good has  ever come from talking about friends, the topic seems to fester buried resentments or annoyances.

That’s all I have for now.

Key Conundrum

I’m sitting on the sidelines of a Jiu-jitsu competition and I have some time to kill.

I locked myself out of my apartment today… because I have one of those places that locks automatically once you close the door.

I have a whole set of keys that I keep on a World Gaming lanyard, only two of these keys open my apartment (front door and main door keys.) I took these two specific keys off of my key ring this morning so that when I went to get coffee I wouldn’t have to carry around a, what feels like, a heaping jumble of keys in my pocket/hand. This went fine, I grabbed the right keys and left for coffee.

Of course I came back, put my apartment keys down, packed for jiu-jitsu and travel, grabbed my lanyard of keys  (which my apartment keys are no longer attached to) and left… my door automatically locking behind me. Only when I went to lock the front door did I realize I had the wrong keys.

I’m not screwed – as my neighbors and landlord have keys to my place – just embarrassed, and annoyed at myself.

I called my neighbor (who is also my real estate agent, also how I got the apartment) and he and his fiancé are somewhere else for a wedding… so I’m pretty much locked out for the night. If I wasn’t traveling to another town after this competition then I’d be semi worried.

This is my life… you will learn, eventually, that it is full of sitcom worthy material.

Welcome to One Year Stranger.