Ring tone loc

I love when a new cell phone model comes out and for the next few months everyone has the same ringtone.

Lighthouse Park

Went to Lighthouse Park today. One of the first excursions since my glorious return and it was a good one. Sunshine and clear skies the whole day. Park wasn't too busy, which is always good and we managed to stake out a good spot on a slope near a little lagooney place. We saw two slugs and I saw an eagle flying in the sky, ever so free. I decided to take a picture after watching it for like 5 minutes just circling in the air. I looked down to get my phone out and as soon as I was ready to take the picture it fucking vanished. I was super annoyed at nature so I didn't recycle a can later in the day.Then we hit up an italian place and I ate way too much. All in all it was a good day.

Cottage Cheese

So this past weekend I went up to my friends' cottage. We drove up on a nice sunny morning where I was extremely hungover to discover that the longer we drove the darker it got outside. When the raining started it was light at first but then eventually descended into a near-torrent but then subsided enough when we had to bring our stuff inside that we only got marginally wet. So we spent the majority of Saturday inside playing boardgames. We started playing a zombie card game that nearly broke many friendships but in the end it was all good fun and no one ever wants to play the game again. But at least we ate very well the whole time.

The next day we were greeted by slightly sunny skies and we decided to take a trip down to the beach. Once upon the beach we could see dark clouds rolling in and we got stuck outside when the rain came. So a mad dash to the car was in order. On the drive home the rain was so bad it was like the clouds were vomiting all over us instead of crying. It was actually insane. We learned later that there was a tornado in a town not too far from where we were. Holy crazy weather batman. But we survived the storm and spent the rest of the time indoors except to barbecue because that is apparently what Canadians do. Again, we ate very well (breakfast was also stellar, in case I didn't mention it).

Then it was time to drive home where my chauffeur and I saw a nearly perfect, full rainbow (what does it mean?).

Good trip, sun would only have ruined it.

Dealings and Wheelings

So I watched Rome and it was awesome to the maximum. Then I spent two hours updating my old computer and installing iTunes 10 so that I could connect my iPhone to it and transfer songs to my new computer that I missed so many years ago when I got my new facebook machine. However, it turns out that technology is mega-rad and I don't even need to use an external hardrive/flashdrive of any kind because I can do it wirelessly over my home network. So now I have a huge tech boner but it'll go away as soon as I get a slow internet connection.

Aaaaaand, now that Rome is done I have started watching The Wire because I need to occupy my time somehow amirite?

Casino Royale With Cheese

How come no one is happy in a casino? The commercials would make you think that it was a knee-slapping good time but it turns out to be more of a hooker-stabbing good time. Which is good but there's a lot of baggage that comes with it. Don't get me wrong, being in a casino is exciting. What with all the lights and sounds and money, you feel pretty important just being there but then you look at the other people there and you suddenly don't feel important. You feel alarmed because you are worried that whatever happened to them to steal their soul is just about to happen to you if you don't keep your guard up. Whenever I've been to a casino (twice, read: expert) no one seems happy. No one even TALKS to each other. They have developed systems so that you don't even need to talk to the dealer. And if you don't know what you are doing then forget about it. There are no tutorials; no friendly people you can talk to to explain all the rules of all the games. You really need a casino sherpa/life coach to show you the ropes until you have it all figured out. And then you can be just like all the other miserable people in the building. I guess no one likes losing money but seriously everyone looks fucking depressed. And it's a big buzzkill because you see all the lights and hear all the sounds and then you look into someones eyes and visions of burning crosses and swastikas fill your mind. It's like watching House of 1000 Corpses on mute and playing Britney Spears at the same time. Your mind doesn't know if it should be happy, horrified or horny (hopefully it's obvious which ones correspond to Britney).

Maybe that's just the theme of casinos in general: it seems like there is hope all around you but in reality it's just the stench of human misery. But, of course, you're not miserable if you win right? Just one more bet. Juuuuuusssstttt one mooooore bet. Just a tinsy weensy little bet.

I'm going to make a casino where everyone wins and is always happy and it doesn't feel like the 7th layer of the Inferno. I'm sure this idea will be good. I just need to get some money to start off, better hit up the casino!

Horcrux #2

My friend's wedding ring will be made of tungsten, whose chemical symbol is W. Since that letter has particular interest to me my friend's ring would make a great horcrux. Plus, tungsten is extremely hard and therefore wouldn't require too many spells to protect it.

Brick and Motor

Hey man, I appreciate that you were in a hurry but it doesn't excuse your behaviour. Everyone was equally distressed about the state of the roads. You acted like a bully, admit it. You used your large size and trauma-induced fearlessness to intimidate the little guy. You got what you wanted but we were stuck behind you. You managed to clear the intersection no problem and advance to the next leg of your journey. I just hope you know what you did and that you feel sorry for it because you should. Common courtesy would have gone a long way and if you really needed to be in that lane we would have let you. Maybe you were just afraid that you would miss your exit and it was that motivation that led you to act like that. Maybe I am being too harsh in assuming your motives were sinister but you did the same thing to us. You assumed we wouldn't let you in. We are both making assumptions but the only difference is that my assumption won't cause an accident. My assumption is being done right now and it is a judgement based on no evidence and only one incident but it is harmless. It isn't any more right but it is more safe. If you are going to make assumptions make the safer ones.

If you didn't really mean to cut us off and you are sorry; your apology is accepted.

If you knew full well what you were doing; eat a dick.

Cramped warrens superficially better

It's easier to make your restaurant look popular if it extremely small on the inside. That way, when you don't actually have that many customers, people walk by and say, "wow! That place is packed!"

Therefore, all restaurants should be tiny but there should be more of them. I'm pretty sure I've thought of everything here. Don't try and find anything wrong with my thinking.

Horcrux #1

On old Mr. T shirt with improper stitching that makes the right sleeve feel a bit too tight

LANINAAAAAA

Why is it so cold?! I thought I was in for a mild winter but it is fucking freezing. My teeth chatter so much people on the bus think something is broken. I heard it's because of La Nina. Well a big "fuck you" to La Nina. I was picturing holidays not unlike a Caribbean dream but instead I am forced to endure this coldness like I just told my significant other that they were fat.

I don't know why cold wants to do this to me or why the wind feels that I wronged it in some way when we were younger and now feels the need to exact its revenge whenever I set foot outside.

I'm Looking At You, J.J. Abrams

Now I don't want to hit a sore spot but I just can't reconcile how I feel like a remake of Aliens would be justified with my overall distaste for when movies are remade.

The movie is amazing on its own and it doesn't need retelling but dammit it's tempting to remake it so that we can focus more on the technology side and make it more visually appealing. That was a big part of the movie, the effects, but the acting and story were tantamount to its awesomeness as well so perhaps one aspect of a film isn't enough of a reason for a total remake. I mean, unless we could get all the same actors to reprise their roles and create a machine that makes them reverse-age at least 20 years. Then it would be easy. Just remake the movie but up the effects and try and make some of the camera shots easier to see. We could also get like full action shots of the aliens, which would look cool. But therein lies another problem. The desire to make the aliens completely CG. I think real models go a long way in terms of believability when they are on camera. What makes them seem like a movie prop is when we never see a full shot of one moving for more than a split second. Imagine if we could somehow watch them crawling all over the place for multiple seconds without them being CG? I guess we can't even really do that now so maybe it seems like a pipe dream but that is the ideal case for the Aliens remake. Get the same actors or ones that are better and then don't blow your computer graphics load all at once and make the aliens completely computer rendered. Rather, take it slow and enjoy yourself. Don't get too riled up too fast. Ease into a tantric real-model special effects based movie and watch your wad shot in HD and see how amazing it looks. If that happened to me I would definitely call again.

Haters and Goblins to the Left

Halloween was cooler when it was about the candy, you know? Now it's all commercial and about what the Fat Cats think is appropriate or not. We all just shuffle along like slaves to the corporate propaganda that halloween is a major event where people have parties and drink expensive wines and eat expensive witch-finger shaped foods.

But not me, man. I won't be no shill that says Halloween is about getting mad slizzard and then throwing up in Jack-o-lanterns on your walk home from the frat house. Noway, Jose. I'm gonna stay true to the origins of the holiday and say proudly that, "I'm in it for the candy, bitches".

Fuck all y'all that don't represent the true spirit of Halloween by disrespectin the sugar side of this most bodacious holiday. It's all turning tricks (judging by women's costumes) and there's no treat except if the Sexy Fraulein has one too many Jager shots and is just inebriated enough to maintain control of her mouth-tongue motor functions but not too drunk to either pass out in your buddies bathroom with your pants around your ankles or to lose mouth-tongue motor functions and reflexively clamp her jaw shut on whatever part of you is unfortunate enought o be between her teeth. All girls should be deepthroating are Tootsie Rolls and the only thing guys should be tonguing are lollipops. Let's leave all these sexual, drunken shenanigans to New Years eve, where after midnight the world may not be there any more.

Hasn't watching teen slasher movies shown you people anything? Loose morals always end up in loose entrails. And yeah sometimes a trick-or-treating kid gets an axe in the face but you take risks all the time. Partaking in sex, drugs and alcohol on Halloween is asking to be skewered on a tentpole. Simple as that. Go door to door looking for some Kit Kat bars does not mean that you will soon be locked in a basement surrounded by corpses but rather locked in your room surrounded by discarded candy wrappers. The only reason that you would be horribly butchered on Halloween as a result of getting candy is because of all the people who are out getting their freak-on.

So I stand vigilant against the norm that is perpetuated by these government big-wigs and I say "Keep the 'treat' in 'Trick-or Treat'". My life just might depend on it.

Food Baby

I ate wayyyyyyyyyy too much

I only hope my food baby doesn't grow up to become part of the Hell's Angels Cakes.

COOKIE

I just want some cookies. But not just any cookies, I want melt in your mouth, fresh from the oven, the chocolatiest, doughiest, most awe inspiring cookies ever made.

I went to Safeway and got a dozen that should be called Chocolate Abortions because they were that bad. They had these little centres that exploded with chocolate but in all the wrong ways. Like when a guy doesn't tell you he's going to.....never mind. They were terrible and disappointing like when a guy takes you down by the lake with a bottle of Cristal, some cream cheese, a skull prop from a local production of Hamlet and then he.....never mind.

So help me with the petition to get Safeway to make some better cookies or to have a program where I can hire an old lady to bake me cookies so there is a fresh batch waiting for me every day. Whichever is easier.

Insert Appropriate Whitesnake Lyric

There is a looming heaviness on the horizon. Beyond that lies something dark and treacherous. It will be an interesting weekend to say the least. But I must prevail. I will prevail. I feel the vice grip a little tighter every day and hopefully after this weekend I will feel the glorious relief of it receding by a few turns before it starts to wind again.

In my desperate need for inspiration and reassurance I am reminded of a parable my father once told me:

"Two men walk down a road in a wood. They each carry packs that are heavy and burdensome. Eventually they start to get weary when they come to a fork. The path to the right leads to certain doom and the path to the left also leads to certain doom. Their packs are heavy and they can't take the weight for much longer. They must decide quickly or it will certainly be their doom"

It's actually not that helpful.

649

Money is so sweet. I don't know who ever said that it was the root of all evil but that person never flew first class or ate filet mignon that came from a cow who was killed four hours prior to being consumed. There are so many great things in life that are only available to the very rich and rightly so! Everybody can't hang-glide while eating octopus eggs and land on a giant, copyrighted statue of Mickey Mouse madeout of gold and moon rocks. These things need to be kept out of reach of the majority of the population so we allbecome infatuated and tantalized with the notion of one day doing the things that so few have done. We become slaves to an idea and as long as we keep believing that one day we could attain these forbidden fruits our lives don't seemquite so pathetic. That is why the lottery is abrilliant idea. It is the carrot on the end of the silver chain attached to the wooden rod (made with wood from George Washington's teeth, Lincoln's log cabin and Cleveland's coffin). I love the lottery. Actually, what I love more than the lottery itself is the thought of winning the lottery and what I love more than the thought of winning the lottery is: wining the lottery. If I won the lottery it would be the end of all my problems."Mo money, mo problems"?

Sorry Ma$e, it doesn't work like that, Pal. All that happens when one acquires money is instant gratification when they buy themselves that first delight. That first reward for their hard work all these years. The first treat and certainly not the last.

Since all I do is think about money I thought maybe I would actually write down some things I would do if I won the lottery.

Buy Nice Suits

I'd buy the nicest shit you ever saw. I'd be rollin up in der so fine you'd be all, "Who dat GQ lookin' mofucka o'er der?" and I'd be all like, "Calvin Cline up in hurr, bitches! You best believe biddies from tha 50's wanna get all up in dis"

They would be so nice that I would have to hire hit men to kill everyone who ever saw me wear them, save for one person who was known to exaggerate. They would be the only person in the world who would know what true beauty was and they would tell the rest.

Go to dinner at Buckingham Palace

I'd definitely see how they do things in the ritziest of places (not the Ritz though) and see what hi-jinx would ensue. Maybe the Queen and I would have a shot-gunning contest. Or maybe I would just kick it old school and have a freestyle rap competition with some beef eaters (most of my material would be in reference to them "eating my beef"). Whatever the situation, it would be killer fun and wicked expensive.

Buy a car just to smash it

I would most definitely buy a car but I would immediately smash it. Right there in the show room. I'd walk to a Mercedes, Ferrari, Porsche, Hugo Boss, any big-name car retailer, select a showroom model, buy it without negotiating a price and handing the salesman a briefcase full of money, and then pull out a sledgehammer and go to town on the bitch (The car, not the salesmen. I'll get to homicide soon enough). I'd like to watch and see what everyone in the dealership would do. And the answer is: NOT A DAMN THING! It's my car and I can do whatever I want with it. I'd throw some money on the floor as I walked away or something else cool while everyone would just be standing there, dumbfounded. Then I'd light up a smoke and hop into a mini-van full of kids in soccer uniforms that was driven by the hottest of all moms. We would stop for ice cream.

Become a rapper

All rappers don't have money initially but when they do get money their music becomes the soundtrack of the lives of college girls who get their skank on. They would dance away their daddy-issues as they grinded their junk into some stranger's business as my drug-influenced beats and money-centered lyrics reverberated off the walls of the skeeziest bar that has a townie to frat-boy ratio of 2:1.

I like those odds.

Eat someone

Don't look at me like that, you know you would too. I'd pay for their funeral and I'd buy their artwork that was "too risque" for the internet.

Crispin Glover Fans: Don't Get Excited

New back to the future convention. You know that new geek you've been wanting to get on? Well take a look at this:

http://weregoingback.com/Were_Going_Back_-_25th_Anniversary/Home.html

Wonder Land

You know when you really want to go on a water slide because everyone talks about it and you've been around water slides your whole life? You get really worked up and decide to take the plunge only to realize that it's the busiest part of the park because you went at noon, the warmest part of the day. So you wait in line and worry that you're not going to get on because of all the people also waiting but then somehow you get lucky and get on the slide. But then as you're on the slide you don't enjoy it as much and it's not quite as fun as you'd thought it would be. And then as you get to the bottom you see a bunch of people you know in line, all talking about how exciting the slide is going to be. You wander around the park and see how much fun people are having in the relatively small lines to the haunted houses and various roller coasters. There are obviously still lines but you're not part of the bustling crowd of people clamoring to get onto the ride. Your envy can't help but be stirred. So you trudge back to the water park and line up again and are disappointed by the people you see. You expected a different sort of person to be here. You thought you would be different but the slide doesn't change you and maybe that was the problem. You don't look forward to the slide that much. And the people who have seasons passes aren't as you expected them either. It seems like too much trouble to get out of line for the slide and try to line up somewhere else because you might be too short to ride the other attractions. But you're stuck in the park until it closes so you may as well do something. How can you explain to people that you don't want to go on any ride in the park? What else would you do? Just line up and make the best of it because it's a long way until closing time.

I Think I Just Leroy Jenkins-ed This Shit

Been a while. Lots of things have happened. Let's keep it short: worked a bit made a little money and am now in freakout mode. I went to some friends' wedding (the same wedding; they were both my friend, independently of each other) which was awesome as well. That was quite nice. But now it's just you and me again isn't it, Internet. I want to throw my concerns and worries into you like paper inside glass bottles being hurled into the sea. Back in the 20's sending out a message in a bottle would have been similar to writing a blog on the internet but with less assurance that someone (or anyone) would read it. Although, this blog in particular compares pretty closely. But I wonder if perhaps in the future unnecessary blogs like this would be considered littering, as messages in bottles would be considered today. There's a thought to consider. Another one to consider is this:

Biggest mistake ever or just staying the course to better things?

I'm actually probably more like Hamlet than Leroy since he doesn't do anything whereas Mr. Jenkins is obviously a go-getter.

I'm actually probably more like that one pretentious asshole you know (hopefully there's only one) who compares themselves to characters from Shakespeare. FML

And then he entered the room, suddenly...or did he?

The bottle of wine lay on the ground dripping frantically onto the ground, slowly pouring out the remnants of its livelihood onto the hardwood floor. The puddle of wine gained mass and the slight force of gravity on the minutely uneven floor caused the circle of red to trickle towards the white apron. The apron was balled up into a makeshift pillow under the head of Leroy Smolsky. He lay fast asleep upon the apron with his hands between his legs and the backs of his calves squished firmly against the backs of his thighs. He lay in a scrumpled ball on the floor, trying to conserve warmth as he slept. The wine menace snuck its way across the landscape to reach its inevitable target. The terrain between the wine and the man-ball was littered with crumpled paper, beer bottles, clothing and cigar butts. The wine precariously flittered around various objects as the path of lowest potential energy revealed itself. The puddle of wine was becoming a river. The initial pool now transformed into a tributary of terrible taint. The dark red stream oozing ever closer to the poor unsuspecting buffoon who snored quietly amidst a forest of garbage. The odd banana peel gave the floor an even dirtier feeling. Not to mention the lone piece of half-eaten pizza that was a Germany distance away from the relative North America that was Leroy. The ever persistent wine kept its snakelike action as it began to branch into multiple streams, dictated by the slight imperfections in the floor. The tiniest of deviations from a planar state in the floor caused the wine to follow its course. Leroy could always blame the floor or even the man who installed the hardwood or even the architect who designed the building or even the school that trained the architect or even the country that built the school or even the world that created the country or even...who was left? No one, I'm sure but let's continue. Where were we? Ah yes, the wine. Inching its way closer, the wine was now on the threshold of Leroy's personal space. Like a wooden horse at the gates of Troy, the wine now approached the event horizon created by Leroy's body. The overweight man caused a distortion in the floor's existence. The floor became bent around his body, due to his mass. This was part of the reason that the wine flowed toward him. He was to blame after all! His existence itself was the cause to his misfortune! A breakthrough! But alas, Leroy is ever on the floor. With the wine perched on the verge of soaking into the white apron inevitably waking Leroy up, causing him to swear loudly, causing the woman in his bed to stir, causing her to question her location and ponder how she got there, causing Leroy to remember the previous night just seconds after the woman in his bed did, causing a furious fight that fosters hatred in both parties, causing Leroy to do something he regrets, causing Leroy to distort the world around him, causing all the problems in the world to cascade down upon him like a waterfall of agony, causing him to wake up and swear loudly, causing him to start the cycle again.

There's Leroy, all alone on the floor. Two disasters about to befall him. Mayhaps if the boisterous and arrogant neighbour, Richmond were to knock on the door at just the right time. In his swede sport coat, elegantly faded jeans and designer shoes Richmond could put an end to all of this. He could check his watch and see the time is 8:54am and decide to grab a coffee before he ventures out into the world. The sunlight would stream into his apartment, it would sneak its way around dust in the air in a fraction of a second. An onslaught of photons would set the stage for this drama as Richmond checked his sugar tin and realized he was out of the white, crystalline substance. Here it is, the potential redemption of the mess next door. Richmond's apartment stands in stark contrast to his neighbour's. The very definition of order is personified by Richmond's apartment. After all, without order, what are we?

Richmond never knows how vital his role is. How he could save everything. It is not known. Does it happen?

Does Leroy ever wake up? More importantly, can he wake up without the wine staining the apron?

He is doomed, his salvation rests on a well-dressed man's dietary desires. His damnation rests in the crimson swirls on his floor, creeping like the hand of Death to grab him and drag him to Hell. His salvation and end also lie in the olive and pearl-white entanglement in his bed. A slender leg and a mash of cotton contained in a silk sheet. He was never the instrument of his own salvation. He is always the tool of his demise. He is always on the floor. He is caught amidst the chaos that surrounds him. He hears and sees nothing relating to the man next door, the woman in the next room. There is no sound. There breathing is silenced over the torrential roar of the wine, dripping onto the floor, making a mess.