Thursday, March 31, 2005
I Love You Paris
Recently whilst at a concert with Rob Stewart's kid Kimberly, Paris budded in line for the john (natch). Then when she left and saw some poor girl who couldn't wait taking a piss in the sink Paris yelled "You dirty bitch!" but then finished with "That's hot," before running out of the can.
Recently whilst at a concert with Rob Stewart's kid Kimberly, Paris budded in line for the john (natch). Then when she left and saw some poor girl who couldn't wait taking a piss in the sink Paris yelled "You dirty bitch!" but then finished with "That's hot," before running out of the can.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
No, I Haven't Lived In LA
I've just been there a couple of times. I guess it has captured my imagination. I would like to live there, although strictly speaking I should live somewhere hotter and drier. LA is surprisingly damp (at least Santa Monica is). My mom lived in LA for a few years in the 50's.
Funny I have never been to downtown LA. Just all around it. I've seen plenty o' crackheads right here in Toronto. Seen them smoking it in broad daylight. Seen their black teeth and cracked lips and hollow eyes. Seen the discarded little brown pipes on the sidewalks around Wellesley and Yonge. I know where there are lots of people living rough around Toronto too. Ravines and hillsides and down around the docklands. Under the Gardiner Expressway. Beside the Don River where I walk my dog. They are shoulder to shoulder with us brother.
The best urban hikes are in LA. The backbone of the city is the Santa Monica foothills - a conservancy that splits the city in two: on one side, the hills, downtown, Hollywood, all the ritzy neighborhoods and the beaches. On the other side is the valley. Mile after mile of loser malls, aging delis, the old studios clinging to the wrong side of the hills. The canyons that divide the city have hundreds of secret paths and dog parks and old nike missile silos. Basically you can explore the hills and canyons from Point Mugu to Newport. The best for me are right in the city, along Mullholland.
I've just been there a couple of times. I guess it has captured my imagination. I would like to live there, although strictly speaking I should live somewhere hotter and drier. LA is surprisingly damp (at least Santa Monica is). My mom lived in LA for a few years in the 50's.
Funny I have never been to downtown LA. Just all around it. I've seen plenty o' crackheads right here in Toronto. Seen them smoking it in broad daylight. Seen their black teeth and cracked lips and hollow eyes. Seen the discarded little brown pipes on the sidewalks around Wellesley and Yonge. I know where there are lots of people living rough around Toronto too. Ravines and hillsides and down around the docklands. Under the Gardiner Expressway. Beside the Don River where I walk my dog. They are shoulder to shoulder with us brother.
The best urban hikes are in LA. The backbone of the city is the Santa Monica foothills - a conservancy that splits the city in two: on one side, the hills, downtown, Hollywood, all the ritzy neighborhoods and the beaches. On the other side is the valley. Mile after mile of loser malls, aging delis, the old studios clinging to the wrong side of the hills. The canyons that divide the city have hundreds of secret paths and dog parks and old nike missile silos. Basically you can explore the hills and canyons from Point Mugu to Newport. The best for me are right in the city, along Mullholland.
Friday, March 18, 2005
You Can Do It Courtney
I really want Courtney Love to get her life together and keep making music. I think she's a wicked songwriter (or maybe better lyricist), and that she should do a cover album... I'm not sure why... I just thought her voice would lend itself so well to these songs:
Kiss Me Deadly - Generation X
Bad Reputation - Joan Jett
Everybody Wants Something - Yes, that Degrassi song by The Zit Remedy
Here Comes Your Man - Pixies
These Boots Were Made For Walkin - Nancy Sinatra
Behind Blue Eyes OR Pictures Of Lily - The Who
Someday We'll Be Together - The Supremes
Dream Baby - Roy Orbison
Angel Of The Morning - Juice Newton
Money Changes Everything - Cyndi Lauper
Precious - The Pretenders
God Only Knows - The Beach Boys
Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths
Rapture OR One Way Or Another - Blondie
Something by Patti Smith - I'm not a Patti Smith person but this seems to make sense.
Something collaborative with Peaches
Something collaborative with L7 (a Seattle thing)
I really want Courtney Love to get her life together and keep making music. I think she's a wicked songwriter (or maybe better lyricist), and that she should do a cover album... I'm not sure why... I just thought her voice would lend itself so well to these songs:
Kiss Me Deadly - Generation X
Bad Reputation - Joan Jett
Everybody Wants Something - Yes, that Degrassi song by The Zit Remedy
Here Comes Your Man - Pixies
These Boots Were Made For Walkin - Nancy Sinatra
Behind Blue Eyes OR Pictures Of Lily - The Who
Someday We'll Be Together - The Supremes
Dream Baby - Roy Orbison
Angel Of The Morning - Juice Newton
Money Changes Everything - Cyndi Lauper
Precious - The Pretenders
God Only Knows - The Beach Boys
Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths
Rapture OR One Way Or Another - Blondie
Something by Patti Smith - I'm not a Patti Smith person but this seems to make sense.
Something collaborative with Peaches
Something collaborative with L7 (a Seattle thing)
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Terry Fox Loonie
I was happy to see the mint release the Terry Fox loonie. Terry Fox was my idol when I was 11 - 12. I followed the Marathon of Hope. It's one of the few things that I remember as being positive in my life then because my dad was so sick with cancer when Terry was running across Canada. I believed that somehow something was being done to help us - that Terry was directly helping us. It made me happy to think that Terry Fox was helping people understand about cancer. Then when he got sick and stopped running I was so worried. That was when things got much worse for my dad. June 28, 1981 was a Sunday. I was sitting in church alone. We used to go as a family but my mom was working crazy hours to make enough money for us and my Auntie was at home looking after my dad. I was sitting in church and the priest's homily was just an announcement that Terry Fox had died. The priest was crying. People in church were crying. I remember thinking, finally, people know how I feel. Later that day my dad died, capping off what was basically the worst day / year of our lives.
I used to think Terry Fox was running *just for me*, like, to help our family. I have thought about him so many times over the years. I really believe he raised incredible awareness around cancer. Seeing my mom go through her cancer in 1999 - the changes in care and treatment were actually amazing. It's so different now than it was in 1981. People are so much more enlightened now, I like to think due to Terry Fox.
If I come across one of the loonies, I'll just put it away, for my dad.
I was happy to see the mint release the Terry Fox loonie. Terry Fox was my idol when I was 11 - 12. I followed the Marathon of Hope. It's one of the few things that I remember as being positive in my life then because my dad was so sick with cancer when Terry was running across Canada. I believed that somehow something was being done to help us - that Terry was directly helping us. It made me happy to think that Terry Fox was helping people understand about cancer. Then when he got sick and stopped running I was so worried. That was when things got much worse for my dad. June 28, 1981 was a Sunday. I was sitting in church alone. We used to go as a family but my mom was working crazy hours to make enough money for us and my Auntie was at home looking after my dad. I was sitting in church and the priest's homily was just an announcement that Terry Fox had died. The priest was crying. People in church were crying. I remember thinking, finally, people know how I feel. Later that day my dad died, capping off what was basically the worst day / year of our lives.
I used to think Terry Fox was running *just for me*, like, to help our family. I have thought about him so many times over the years. I really believe he raised incredible awareness around cancer. Seeing my mom go through her cancer in 1999 - the changes in care and treatment were actually amazing. It's so different now than it was in 1981. People are so much more enlightened now, I like to think due to Terry Fox.
If I come across one of the loonies, I'll just put it away, for my dad.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Camp Dream
On Sunday morning, early, before the dog licked my hand to waken me up to let her out, I was dreaming that I was in a big outdoor area, with a huge open field but also woods nearby. I dreamed that every camp person ever was there. We were all milling about and I was desparately trying to organize everyone into a big circle like for a lap sit. I think the intention was to hold hands and sing a song. But the people were too hard to organize and the only person who looked kindly on me was Jack P., so I let him hold my hand. All my life's a chapel song.
On Sunday morning, early, before the dog licked my hand to waken me up to let her out, I was dreaming that I was in a big outdoor area, with a huge open field but also woods nearby. I dreamed that every camp person ever was there. We were all milling about and I was desparately trying to organize everyone into a big circle like for a lap sit. I think the intention was to hold hands and sing a song. But the people were too hard to organize and the only person who looked kindly on me was Jack P., so I let him hold my hand. All my life's a chapel song.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
The Shit Fuck Damn Hell That Is My Eyes
I have pink eye in both eyes. On Tuesday my left eye was completely red -- not veiny red, not pinkish, but completely blood red like one of those white bunnies. It oozed green snot all day whilst I met with clients and I was ashamed of how bad I looked.
Yesterday, Wednesday, I awoke around 5:30am and used a tire iron to pry open my eyes, which were encrusted with a thick green crust that was very sticky in some places, and dried rock solid in other places. I let the doggie out around 5:45am. When she came back inside after a few minutes I wiped her paws, and she sat down on the rug and scootched her bum about a foot along, leaving there a dark brown streak of shit. Great. I shoved her back outside and went in search of a rag and some diaper wipes. Armed with those I let her back in and investigated her ass. I discovered that attached to her asshole and the surrounding fur was a fist-sized chunk of poo, both old and new. I just picked her up and dumped her in the kitchen sink. Using a rag, diaper wipes and scissors I managed to remove all the poo. It took me about 15 minutes, there was that much shit there. When I was all done she seemed very happy. I felt rather guilty, since the dried poo was old and had obviously started the shit-snowball-attached-to-ass effect.
Anyways, she's at the groomers today getting a new hairdo, mani-pedi and a canine Brazilian in order to stave off such problems for the next several months. When the asked me how much to take off her ass I said "spare nothing".
Later, I arrived at work in pyjamas (I work in the corporate head office of a large multinational bank). I did a few things and cleared my calendar and went back home to bed. I rented Napoleon Dynamite but must admit, I fell asleep shortly after Napoleon meets Pedro.
Then, ignoring my vegetarianism, I ate a Vietnamese sub and went to play hockey for 6:10pm. We won. After a few quick beers I went back home to bed.
My eyes are only pinkish today and relatively snot free, though they are still irritated and itchy.
I have pink eye in both eyes. On Tuesday my left eye was completely red -- not veiny red, not pinkish, but completely blood red like one of those white bunnies. It oozed green snot all day whilst I met with clients and I was ashamed of how bad I looked.
Yesterday, Wednesday, I awoke around 5:30am and used a tire iron to pry open my eyes, which were encrusted with a thick green crust that was very sticky in some places, and dried rock solid in other places. I let the doggie out around 5:45am. When she came back inside after a few minutes I wiped her paws, and she sat down on the rug and scootched her bum about a foot along, leaving there a dark brown streak of shit. Great. I shoved her back outside and went in search of a rag and some diaper wipes. Armed with those I let her back in and investigated her ass. I discovered that attached to her asshole and the surrounding fur was a fist-sized chunk of poo, both old and new. I just picked her up and dumped her in the kitchen sink. Using a rag, diaper wipes and scissors I managed to remove all the poo. It took me about 15 minutes, there was that much shit there. When I was all done she seemed very happy. I felt rather guilty, since the dried poo was old and had obviously started the shit-snowball-attached-to-ass effect.
Anyways, she's at the groomers today getting a new hairdo, mani-pedi and a canine Brazilian in order to stave off such problems for the next several months. When the asked me how much to take off her ass I said "spare nothing".
Later, I arrived at work in pyjamas (I work in the corporate head office of a large multinational bank). I did a few things and cleared my calendar and went back home to bed. I rented Napoleon Dynamite but must admit, I fell asleep shortly after Napoleon meets Pedro.
Then, ignoring my vegetarianism, I ate a Vietnamese sub and went to play hockey for 6:10pm. We won. After a few quick beers I went back home to bed.
My eyes are only pinkish today and relatively snot free, though they are still irritated and itchy.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Changes On Corrie
Like a phoenix, it came, it burned brightly, and then it died. And then it rose from the ashes a bit, at least. Corrie St. episodes to be ONE HOUR starting in April. I'll make occasional updates I guess, because I love it so much. But I just can't write daily recaps like I used to. This site is MUCH better for that. Don't cheat and look ahead.
Like a phoenix, it came, it burned brightly, and then it died. And then it rose from the ashes a bit, at least. Corrie St. episodes to be ONE HOUR starting in April. I'll make occasional updates I guess, because I love it so much. But I just can't write daily recaps like I used to. This site is MUCH better for that. Don't cheat and look ahead.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Karla's Going Free This Summer
On July 5, 2005 Karla will be free, having served her entire sentence. That's only, like 120-odd days from now. I honestly don't know what to think but many people on the various sites and discussions devoted to this topic feel like she should be taken care of in vigilante fashion because few if any people believe her plea bargain deal was fair (videos found after the fact, etc.) and her sentence seems too light. No one believes she was a victim.
It brings to mind the case of Jamie Bulger (the little dude from England killed and tortured by some older boys). Those lads are going free with new identities and people all over are indignant but especially those in the U.K. who remember the case. Those boys were children when they killed Jamie. They have served their sentence. It seems like... they must be set free. Because they're so despised, they need new identities. I feel pretty rational about it because maybe it wasn't in my backyard.
But with Karla, I feel more angry and like-minded to those who are wagering she'll be picked off by someone with a high-powered rifle. Maybe because when the girls were missing I lived it every day, crying when they were found, gobsmacked when they caught Bernardo, incredulous when the cases when to court, angry that they could've had him years before the girls were ever snatched because they had his DNA from the Scarborough rapes, and just plain pissed about Karla's deal which the state made in ignorance.
On July 5, 2005 Karla will be free, having served her entire sentence. That's only, like 120-odd days from now. I honestly don't know what to think but many people on the various sites and discussions devoted to this topic feel like she should be taken care of in vigilante fashion because few if any people believe her plea bargain deal was fair (videos found after the fact, etc.) and her sentence seems too light. No one believes she was a victim.
It brings to mind the case of Jamie Bulger (the little dude from England killed and tortured by some older boys). Those lads are going free with new identities and people all over are indignant but especially those in the U.K. who remember the case. Those boys were children when they killed Jamie. They have served their sentence. It seems like... they must be set free. Because they're so despised, they need new identities. I feel pretty rational about it because maybe it wasn't in my backyard.
But with Karla, I feel more angry and like-minded to those who are wagering she'll be picked off by someone with a high-powered rifle. Maybe because when the girls were missing I lived it every day, crying when they were found, gobsmacked when they caught Bernardo, incredulous when the cases when to court, angry that they could've had him years before the girls were ever snatched because they had his DNA from the Scarborough rapes, and just plain pissed about Karla's deal which the state made in ignorance.
Sometimes The Internet Scares Me
Had a brief thought to buy friends a Dairy Queen ice cream cake with the word "Blumpkin" iced on it, or else "Nasty Sanchez" since they think those terms are so funny (as a joke - even though I love those cakes...), and then had to fucking look up what the terms meant because I'd forgotten and then came across this scary page that I hope is not in someone's real sex-moves repetoire. It bugged me in my mind for days.
Had a brief thought to buy friends a Dairy Queen ice cream cake with the word "Blumpkin" iced on it, or else "Nasty Sanchez" since they think those terms are so funny (as a joke - even though I love those cakes...), and then had to fucking look up what the terms meant because I'd forgotten and then came across this scary page that I hope is not in someone's real sex-moves repetoire. It bugged me in my mind for days.
Dude, You're Just Making It Worse
A friend of ours parents have a cottage on an island. I've tried to go and enjoy myself there from time to time but have a hard time because the cottage is overrun with cockroaches. And when a cockroach isn't crawling around your plate of food there's a family of spiders in your bed. And when you aren't bunking down with the spiders, there's a water snake slithering around the bottom of the boat amongst the McDonald's wrappers.
So last night in bed Nick and I are chatting away and he tells me that our friend just purchased the island across from his parents' place. Right away we're laughing and giggling as we imagine the future state of the cottage he plans to build. I snarked that he should have a reality show called "The Isle of Cockroaches, Starring: The Spiders, with Special Guest Star: The Water Snake." I guess it was funny at the time because we were farting in bed from all the laughter, and then we fell asleep.
A friend of ours parents have a cottage on an island. I've tried to go and enjoy myself there from time to time but have a hard time because the cottage is overrun with cockroaches. And when a cockroach isn't crawling around your plate of food there's a family of spiders in your bed. And when you aren't bunking down with the spiders, there's a water snake slithering around the bottom of the boat amongst the McDonald's wrappers.
So last night in bed Nick and I are chatting away and he tells me that our friend just purchased the island across from his parents' place. Right away we're laughing and giggling as we imagine the future state of the cottage he plans to build. I snarked that he should have a reality show called "The Isle of Cockroaches, Starring: The Spiders, with Special Guest Star: The Water Snake." I guess it was funny at the time because we were farting in bed from all the laughter, and then we fell asleep.
Quickie
Been busy. Been thinking about writing about a painful period of late childhood relating to extreme periods of neglect from remaining living parent, and that parent's descent into alcoholism. It's so downbeat though it's making me batshit that I will start to remember things I somehow forgot and then I will have a breakdown like the chick with the different personalities. Only half joking... Anyway, the thing's in draft mode. Maybe I'll just jump in and write it this weekend.
My work has gotten very insane. I have started to question the money I earn vs. the amount of schtuff I've got to slog through each day. I think I don't earn enough to stay late or work weekends, thus I don't, and thus, I go ga-ga each day trying to work effectively and satisfy all those client needs. About twice a week my boss talks to be about how to pare back what I'm doing to make myself less crazy. I think I just want more money... However, work is still challenging, fun, good people, great boss, good place to work and it pays the bills, sort of. It's not my dream job but, but I'm not someone who continually seeks a dream job anyway, so what the fuck.
I started a quite good blog recapping Corrie St. We even got tivo but like the day Nick set it up I decided to give up the blog (after, like, a month or so). It is just too damn much writing / recapping 4 episodes a week for a blog that no one reads. However, it's great to just be a regular Corrie viewer again, and the tivo rocks the house. I LOVE IT.
The big 20-year TLC reunion party is in a week. I am having a phase where I hate my hair and feel like a pear but hopefully alcohol will alleviate all those worries when the time comes. About 30 people are going to descend on my friend's house. I ordered fucking party sandwiches... how gay are we. It's funeral food but there's nothing worse than being drunk and starving at a party and not a crumb in sight. I'm also going to order a keg and stick it in the chilly, snowy backyard outside the kitchen door. Tea sandwiches + a kegger + 30 or so camp friends who haven't seen each other in 20 years + 8 hours of 80's music on my iPod = a party with an identity crisis.
Nick's going Matt's chalet this weekend for an all-boy's weekend, but in that case a rousing game of strip poker is no fun at all. Last time I visited that particular holiday house I found a mouse turd in my coffee. They are carpooling up so I shall have my car this weekend, and I have the whole weekend to myself. What to do, what to do...
Nick just had an all-boy's night at our house when about 8 friends came over to warm up before seeing Kings of Leon at the Opera House. All I know is I bought a 12 of Stella and ordered $60 worth of pizza and left for hockey where I played 2 games and got 2 shut-outs - hooray for me. NHL losers you can stay in a fight forever for all I care, I've got all the hockey I can handle right now. My playoffs are coming up in 2 weeks so I'll be playing 2 or 3 games a week until the end of April, then I go to FLA and then I have knee surgery.
Which reminds me, rugby practice starts in 4 fucking weeks and there is still shitloads of snow on the ground. It's hard to believe it will be spring-like enough to practice in a month.
Anyways... came back from hockey to find the dog asleep amongst the roaches and ashes all over the couch and crusts of pizza and lager cans everywhere. They had obviously cleaned up in that way that boys do: partially moved plates, etc. to the sink area but putting dirty dishes directly into the dishwasher does not compute. Then they all came crashing home around midnight to finish the cold pizza and drink one last beer and then stumble off into the night. A couple of friends stayed with us chatting and drinking for another hour or so by the fire and it was fun, we just laughed like crazy and the cats watched us very closely. It was tremendously difficult to get up on Thursday morning with very little sleep, and also my hair was still dirty because no time to wash and dry it after hockey. But dried sweat can be just as good as any hair styling product, I find.
Finally, I have this fucking cut in my nostril that's taking forever to heal. Everytime I blow my nose it cracks and bleeds and it's making my nose tip very red. Ginny gave me some cream called Ozonol that's working, finally, after 3+ weeks, this stupid gash in my nose is going away. I swear to god I am not picking it, it seems to pick itself.
Been busy. Been thinking about writing about a painful period of late childhood relating to extreme periods of neglect from remaining living parent, and that parent's descent into alcoholism. It's so downbeat though it's making me batshit that I will start to remember things I somehow forgot and then I will have a breakdown like the chick with the different personalities. Only half joking... Anyway, the thing's in draft mode. Maybe I'll just jump in and write it this weekend.
My work has gotten very insane. I have started to question the money I earn vs. the amount of schtuff I've got to slog through each day. I think I don't earn enough to stay late or work weekends, thus I don't, and thus, I go ga-ga each day trying to work effectively and satisfy all those client needs. About twice a week my boss talks to be about how to pare back what I'm doing to make myself less crazy. I think I just want more money... However, work is still challenging, fun, good people, great boss, good place to work and it pays the bills, sort of. It's not my dream job but, but I'm not someone who continually seeks a dream job anyway, so what the fuck.
I started a quite good blog recapping Corrie St. We even got tivo but like the day Nick set it up I decided to give up the blog (after, like, a month or so). It is just too damn much writing / recapping 4 episodes a week for a blog that no one reads. However, it's great to just be a regular Corrie viewer again, and the tivo rocks the house. I LOVE IT.
The big 20-year TLC reunion party is in a week. I am having a phase where I hate my hair and feel like a pear but hopefully alcohol will alleviate all those worries when the time comes. About 30 people are going to descend on my friend's house. I ordered fucking party sandwiches... how gay are we. It's funeral food but there's nothing worse than being drunk and starving at a party and not a crumb in sight. I'm also going to order a keg and stick it in the chilly, snowy backyard outside the kitchen door. Tea sandwiches + a kegger + 30 or so camp friends who haven't seen each other in 20 years + 8 hours of 80's music on my iPod = a party with an identity crisis.
Nick's going Matt's chalet this weekend for an all-boy's weekend, but in that case a rousing game of strip poker is no fun at all. Last time I visited that particular holiday house I found a mouse turd in my coffee. They are carpooling up so I shall have my car this weekend, and I have the whole weekend to myself. What to do, what to do...
Nick just had an all-boy's night at our house when about 8 friends came over to warm up before seeing Kings of Leon at the Opera House. All I know is I bought a 12 of Stella and ordered $60 worth of pizza and left for hockey where I played 2 games and got 2 shut-outs - hooray for me. NHL losers you can stay in a fight forever for all I care, I've got all the hockey I can handle right now. My playoffs are coming up in 2 weeks so I'll be playing 2 or 3 games a week until the end of April, then I go to FLA and then I have knee surgery.
Which reminds me, rugby practice starts in 4 fucking weeks and there is still shitloads of snow on the ground. It's hard to believe it will be spring-like enough to practice in a month.
Anyways... came back from hockey to find the dog asleep amongst the roaches and ashes all over the couch and crusts of pizza and lager cans everywhere. They had obviously cleaned up in that way that boys do: partially moved plates, etc. to the sink area but putting dirty dishes directly into the dishwasher does not compute. Then they all came crashing home around midnight to finish the cold pizza and drink one last beer and then stumble off into the night. A couple of friends stayed with us chatting and drinking for another hour or so by the fire and it was fun, we just laughed like crazy and the cats watched us very closely. It was tremendously difficult to get up on Thursday morning with very little sleep, and also my hair was still dirty because no time to wash and dry it after hockey. But dried sweat can be just as good as any hair styling product, I find.
Finally, I have this fucking cut in my nostril that's taking forever to heal. Everytime I blow my nose it cracks and bleeds and it's making my nose tip very red. Ginny gave me some cream called Ozonol that's working, finally, after 3+ weeks, this stupid gash in my nose is going away. I swear to god I am not picking it, it seems to pick itself.
