The Mind of Spaz

*Spaz apologizes for the quality of the photo. This is due to inferior camera equipment, no artistic talent, and a tick that forces Spaz make a funny face in each and every photo taken of him. That is all.

Thirty years ago, a woman arrived at the hospital with terrible labor pains. Twenty-nine hours later, a stubborn demon child was cut out of the woman he refused to leave. Whether he was hanging on as he was scared to leave the safety and comfort of the womb, or just because he was a jerk, no one will ever know. Popular opinion is the latter choice, however. Thus, a man you now know as Spaz was born.

Life was not easy for Spaz’s parents. His earliest memory is of chewing all the plastic safety covering off of his crib rail, and his mother removing the last bit lest he choke and kill himself (saving the world much frustration and agony). After discovering that the actual wood rail was not satisfying for a teething child, and unwilling to use his soothers or pacifiers, Spaz threw at tantrum to end all tantrums.

Spaz was adept at deception. He would promise his parents he wouldn’t spit up any more of the cough medicine they gave him. After three changes of clean pajamas, they caught onto his little game.

Ever the precocious child, he discovered his useless superpower at a very young age. Diapers often not only filled, but overflowed up the back and out the legs. And his parents rejoiced.

Things did not much improve as Spaz grew. He remembers his mother and grandmother telling him of shopping trips to the grocery store. Apparently, he would frequently run off, and do such things as removing items from others shopping carts, and adding some to others. “You can’t buy these!” he would scream, as he ran off with a bag of oranges some poor bewildered woman was trying to purchase. He even told one woman to put a shirt on, as her tank top reminded him of underwear. Everyone knows underwear goes under, right?

In grade school, Spaz made himself busy work by writing rude words on pieces of paper and holding them up out the back window on the school bus to bewildered motorists. There was one incident in grade three when his ugly and witch like teacher took him out into the hallway and screamed over and over “HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU!” Spaz merely smiled and asked the teacher kindly not to spit on his glasses; he would have a hard time seeing.

And so time passed and Spaz entered and finished high school. Spaz does not want to talk about high school.

He then entered college. Spaz won’t talk about college, as he does not remember much. He does however remembering being an active environmentalist. Yes, no one recycled more empty beer and liquor bottles than did Spazoid.

So did Spaz get a job and become a taxpayer. And so did Spaz enter into a love life filled with disappointments and heartbreak. Spazoid wants to talk about this less than he wants to talk about high school.

A few years after he was working in the private sector doing technical sales, Spaz was offered a job as a Water Quality Technician, working for the municipality where his family now resided. Spaz was delighted to have a technical job working in a municipality, and in fact the municipality where his parents resided. He was overjoyed to have a good job and be close to his family. His family were “overjoyed” to have their demon spawn child so close again.

And so did Spaz settle into his new job. He purchased a house, got a dog, and settled in to live the rest of his life.

“But”, thought Spaz, “I’m such a genius. How am I to let the world know about me? How shall I entertain them and receive the praise of the people?” Spaz thought and thought, and then a brilliant idea flashed into his huge, voluminous walnut sized brain. “I know! I’ll start a blog! Then my writings will entertain the world!”

With that, The Mind of Spaz was born! Humour, politics, rants, just plain raunch, post about himself, and just random thoughts from The Mind of Spaz can be found here, in the pages of The Mind of Spaz. Please, peruse my entries, bookmark your favorites, and return often.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and Spazoid’s many talented writings. Stay as long as you like, and come back often.

Remember, Spaz loves you. Please love him back. Really, he’s receptive. Don’t be afraid to ask