Lunches of punches is what I bestow

Working in downtown Toronto provides lunch options a-plenty, and working in the same building as my new bride allows us the enviable (well, enviable depending on how much you enjoy spending time with your wife, but I love it so, yes, I say enviable) capability to eat lunch together. These are the places we routinely frequented and some we didn't exactly frequent, and others which just don't make the cut (of course this was all before we realized we were spending $100 a week on eating lunch):

Fusaro's Kitchen: long line-ups are expected from noon to about 1:30, but in under 20 minutes you've usually paid for and received your food. Have an alternative place ready to take with your take-out, especially once the patio is closed as there aren't many chairs and tables inside to eat-in. The cuisine is extra-Italian and well worth the extra buck or two. Daily sandwich and pasta and meat specials are on the board with all the regular favourites available. I've crafted my own "Graig special" over the past four years, which is a meatball and an arancini (breaded rice ball with mozzarella in the centre) for $5.50. The gnocci is always a good alternate.

Famous BBQ Express: No, I don't really know where the "Famous" part of it came from but this place is indeed great, with David the owner being one of the most genuinely pleasant chaps you could meet, calling every male customer "brother" like a much less annoying Hulk Hogan. The menu has Korean inspirations (bulgogi is a particularly tasty option) and our favourite, the steak sandwich is crave-inducingly fabulous. Their Canadian burger special is awesome when they have it, and their fries are particularly tasty. Short line-ups are common and take-out is generally your best option with only a half doze tables kicking around.

The Sandwich Box: a peculiar surprise when it first arrived, both a craft-yourself salad bar and sandwich bar with daily soup specials. This was Toronto's first real taste of gourmet sandwiches, with over a dozen breads to choose from and your choice of 8 or 9 spreads, cheeses and meat and veggie options. The salads are way too expensive, but the sandwiches are always worth it. The line-ups have dissipated over the past few months, somewhat inexplicably, and there's a little more chaos behind the counter these days, but it still tastes the same. I'm enjoying the fresh-made juice mixes and lemonades as of late.

Fox and the Fiddle. Ever since the Bishop and the Belcher moved to Church and Bloor, the Fox has become our "beer lunch" joint of preference. Above average pub food with a few different options. The crispy chicken sandwich coated in (thankfully mild) hot sauce was distasteful at first but now one of my favourites (accompanied with excellent wedge fries). The beef dip sandwich is a favourite amongst the gang I go with (they declare it one of the best in the city) and other selections have all proved tasty eating. Not an hour lunch place, though.. at best an hour and a half.

Swatow: Many call this the best Chinese food in Toronto, and they might be right. Served fast and tasty, you may have to wait 20 minutes for a table during the lunch rush but when you want the good stuff, this is the good stuff. My palette for Chinese is still developing so I still routinely partake in the gwilo-expected rice dishes. The General Tso is my favourite in the city, and Aden loves the black bean beef. Their crispy fried noodles are nice and I've yet to try it, but the Fuk-kin fried rice makes me giggle every time I read the menu (it's a mix of peas, shrimp, crab, scallop, chicken and fried egg apparently).

The Ave (Avenue Diner): A homecookery of the European sort, Aden and I go to the Ave with "the boys" to talk hockey over smoked meat, ribs, burgers or whatever the special of the day is. Sometimes soup is involved, sometimes fries, but regardless there's always more than enough no-frills, no-nonsense belly-filler. The place is tiny, with three booths and a sit-down stools, but usually the line-up is there for the take-out. Cost is usually about $6-$8 per meal and usually in and out within 40 minutes.

Java Hut: Aden and I would hit here when we had the craving for breakfast for lunch. Sometime during the two years we've been eating at this joint the pancake plate went from three pancakes to two, but, two panckakes, two eggs (or bacon or sausage or ham) and fruit salad all come for about $5. They have a great selection of teas (an utterly potent ginger tea), and probably coffee too (but don't really know). An atypical selection of thai food also adorns the menu alongside schnitzles and sandwiches... all better than you'd expect for the price. There's always room to sit (the patio fills up in the summer though), and service is average speed, getting in and out in under an hour.

Occasional favourites

The Secret of Asia - $7 thai plate with spring roll or soup starter. Good food, rarely busy, but not exceptionally expedient.
Ackee Tree - Jamaican jerk chicken, roti, and other spicy assortments. Tasty, but about $10 for takeout (discount for bringing your own container)
Burrito Boys - Always a line-up, but always worth it. A small should fill up the largest of appetites, a large means you won't eat dinner until much, much later. Try the halibut accompanied by with a Jumex Strawberry juice for dessert.
Mama's Pizza - they bake cheese into the crust... that's their secret. Good thin-crust slices, but only if they leave it in the oven long enough to melt the cheese again.
Ghandi's - don't even bother with mild-medium-hot mentioned on your order, this is one spicy roti.
Trimurtri - in the Queen Street Indian restaurant strip, Trimurtri is my fave. It's excellent indian buffet for less than $10.
Pizzaiolo - a thicker crust pizza with a great flavour. The Godfather deep-dish, stacked with meat is the best belly filler. Slice and a drink $5 plus tax.
New York Subway - not like the usual Subway franchise (one right beside it) but an excellent fusion of middle eastern cuisine and traditional sub/wrap fare. Not cheap, but about as much as a typical sub, so not so pricey either. I burned myself out on these by eating one per week for a year. Pace yourself
The Train Place (Xe Lua) - blunt service made up for by cheap, tasty and quick food.
HoSu - Korean and Japanses fusion. Decent but overrated.
East - overpriced Asian. Nice atmosphere, some interesting coctails, but the food is mediocre for the cost.
Le Gourmand - upscale cafeteria food. Interesting, perhaps good even, but not that good.

A song for supper

The wee one doesn't like meat... he likes chicken nuggets from McDonalds and the trashy microwaveable roast beef we get from the grocery store (I really need to learn how to cook a roast properly... have to consult Mom2 on that one). He especially doesn't like pork, and it's always a struggle to get him to eat the tiniest of bites.

Last night, as he sat there pouting about eating his supper (having downed all his apple sauce, veggies and rice, in that order) I came up with this little ditty:

Eat, eat, eat your meat
It's, it's a tasty treat
Eat it up, it wont hurt
And when you're done, you'll get dessert

It made him smile an he ate a little better, although he did take off for a 10 minute bathroom break (he sits down and gets distracted, talking away to himself) and it took much prodding to get him to return and finish up, but he eventually did.

Dancing on the ceiling

A couple of days ago, Sunday night I suppose, I noticed grubs crawling around on the ceiling... little white caterpillars just making a trail. I pulled them down and plopped them in the composting (where I'm sure they'll be happy) and wondered... wondered where they were coming from. The next morning, more of them, not a lot, maybe four or five, but still, they were heading off in vastly different directions along the ceiling. I pegged them down, composted and, again, wondered.

A few weeks ago, I prepped dinner, some pasta and sauce, while Aden was occupied elsewhere. I was feeling good about making dinner (not that I don't often make dinner or assist when Aden is) but I was especially happy to do so that night. As I had everyone's plates ready at the table I sat down and noticed something not-so-pasta-like in my pasta. A little spiral of a grub boiled up an edible should you wish. One dinner scratched, pizza ordered.

A few months ago I began to notice moths flying around the house. Oh not many, but a few. And despite killing them, there always seemed to be more. Often when I would open up one of the cupboards a moth would come flying out at me, either agitated from the light or the suction of opening the door. Always that cupboard too...

So a few days ago I put 3 and 2 and 1 together and got 6. The moths found something in the cupboard to breed and cocoon in. A quick examination of the top shelf and lo, there's the culprit, a bag of sesame seeds teeming with life like an overturned rotting log in the woods. I did a cursory look around and didn't notice anything else out of the ordinary so I just tossed the bag and washed my hands (both literally and figuratively).

We had one day of a grub free ceiling.

But last night, they were back, and I was confused. I opened the cupboard and another moth got into my face. So I started checking everything. A box of rice with seasoning... nothing in the box, but a hole eaten into the bag of seasoning. A bag of dried chick peas... nothing apparent but turn it upside down and the thin silken threads were apparent. Pulled down a couple bags of muffin mix, unrolled the opening and had empty cocoons spill down never mind the things moving about inside the bag. I cleared off the top shelf, noticing many eggs all over the place an a few grubs rolling around. Tossed most of the contents out and hosed down the shelf... that should be it, I thought.

But I decided to check the next shelves just to be sure. A box of tea... oh, there's a cocooned caterpillar in the lid. A relatively new bag of cookies... oh there's a live one rolling around in there. I dumped out all the unopened boxes of pasta (only one showed signs of life). I opened up some sealed boxes of cake mix (no obvious problems but taking no chances... toss) and pudding mix (whole villages were being built in there).

Eventually the entire cupboard was cleared out. Anything not in a sealed plastic or glass jar was tossed (food products into the green bin, boxes into recycling, cause I'm semi-eco-conscious), and now, like old mother Hubbard, the cupboard is bare. I checked the other cupboards just to be sure and no signs of life at all. No silken threads, no moths, no grubs, no cocoons, no eggs... the kitchen is safe, for now. Well, not that it wasn't before, but we really didn't want the extra protein in our diets, not that way anyhow.

Moratorium

in addition to denying myself some various entertainment pleasures in 2008, I'm instigating a food moratorium now. It's some weird penance thing I'm on.
Kidding.
It's somewhat dietary, but in part just realization that my metabolism is slowing down, and that thanks to a rather unhealthy summer I've lost some of my nice physique (really haven't gotten fat, but I've lost some muscle due to inactivity). To stave off further degradation and ballooning, I'm taking a couple of vices out of the equation for a while until such time that I can appropriately measure my intake:

- Pop aka Soda aka Coke (an easy one... done it before can do it again)
- Booze aka Alcohol (going straight-edge... fyi, I'll no longer be fun at parties) update: I've excluded wine from "booze" as it's more civilized (yeah, that's it)
- Potato Chips (also includes nachos, tortillas and corn chips)
- French fries (mainly forcing me into the salad route)
- Chocolate (it's going to be bad when the cravings hit... mainly referring to chocolate bars here)
- Hamburgers (mainly because I've been having terrible indigestion with them lately)
- Fast food (the bad ones... and, oh, no Wendy's...ach! Pizza and subs and Mediterranean is okay)
- Mayonnaise (as much as possible)

So far that's the list, but more may be added.
When I was in San Diego, I realized that because I was so sick and my throat so sore and swollen that I ate incredibly healthy, since if I was going to put something in my body that would cause me great pain to start, it better help me out in the long run. I wish to maintain that thinking without being a Granola Nazi about it like those freaks at Veggie Hut who keep pestering the fine folks at Meat Shake.

or whatever.

Biz Kill

I'm still having an awful time, staring the clock down as I await the first of three long weekends (it will turn out that 4 of July's 5 weekends will have been extended ones for me, hooray... of course that 10 day work week sucks some donkey ass but I digress). I've picked up yet another little bug, which seems to be my lot in life this year. I'm 100% sure that it's as a result of air conditioning though. I'm blown on directly from the vent at the office, and I had the A/C running in the bedroom overnight during the sweltering summer days of Sunday through Tuesday. This time it was a mild sore throat which has gone away but has led to a slight cough and some goodgey bits coming from my sinuses. Rock! Anyway, with the temperature calming down once again, and a couple weekends in milder territory, plus lots of vitamins and rest and relaxation, I should be right as rain until I come back into the office and repeat it all over again. Sigh.

And no, it's neither Pontiac Fever nor Legionnaire's Disease, but thanks for asking.

GAK (AKA the Man of Many Travels) arrived for a brief stayover, having departed Tokyo the previous Thursday, landing in Vancouver, flying to Thunder Bay on Saturday, in Toronto on Tuesday, off to Cambridge Wednesday, and departing today for Finnish lands, the country where he quite wants to be. Apparently their mountains are so lofty and treetops are so tall, Finland, it would seem, indeed, does have it all.

With GAK's visit we went to the Stonegrill on Winchester, a place Aden and I had been eying for a while, and I honestly didn't know what to expect. If you don't know about the stonegrill (the Australian cooking stone), it's basically a flat rock that's heated to 700 degrees and your meal is placed on top, whence it's brought to your table and you cook it yourself... yeah, it's kind of weird to pay more for something you cook yourself, but it's part of the experience, and it was a great experience. The small menu was honed to the items that best suit the stonegrill, and the tapas (pron. tay-paws) is equally small but exquisite. GAK and Aden both had steak (thick and tender), while I had calamari stuffed with chorizo, savory bbq sink-your-teeth-into-the-bone ribs and a fresh chip selection (potato, arrowroot and taro)... delicious.

For dessert, we had Persians which GAK had brought back from Thunder Bay. Over the next three days the dozen buns'n'frosting were shared amongst people who'd never had them before, each expressing delight at the pink'n'cinnamon flavour (yes, pink is a flavour). Astute geeKent reader will remember Persians from a 2004 entry...

Tuesday also brought joy to the extended family back in T.Bay. My brother from another mother's brother (thus being my brother too) had his first younglings extracted from the belly of his significant other... world, meet Leo and Sol

Congrats to Rick and Miia.

This post has taken me -3- days to write.
I'm finally getting a day off. Whoo.

Cherry Darling

One thing I didn't realize about Toronto is how abundant it was in cherry trees. When I lived at the Ronces I had a cherry tree there but unfortunately it was a worm-ridden tree two out of the three years that I was there, and so, despite the additional grub nutrients, I didn't really partake in the fruitful bounty of the old tree.

There was a big storm with heavy winds on 19th which blew down a few trees in Aden's neighbourhood... one big branch that hit the ground was loaded with cherries and that when I began to notice all the cherry trees in her neighbourhood. Testing the cherries off that branch, Aden and I knew her backyard tree would be ripe for the picking in about a week. Well, this past weekend the fruits were all red-dy (narf!), and with the wee one's help, Aden had picked two buckets. When I arrived I picked another couple batches, much of which was dispersed to friends and co-workers.

After a few heated days, I realize the fruit wouldn't be ripe on the branch for long, and promptly picked another bucket (each bucket probably about 3 litres), using a step-stool to reach higher on the tree and actually clearing off every branch I could reach. Of course, I didn't go to the extent of climbing the tree (I couldn't climb and hold the bucket at the same time...) but a good harvest it was. Now... now I'm on cherry overload.
Hurrah. It's been a long time since I was on cherry overload.

unrelated quote

"The weed of crime bears bitter fruit you old hag"

All that's missing is 31 candles

Marmy made me a birthday cake as part of my Aquaman-themed birthday (which has also included an Aquaman HeroClix, the 13" Deluxe Aquaman action figure, a kickass vintage Aquaman Pepsi glass, and yes, the Aquaman cake... next, an Aquaman tattoo[half-kidding])

Looks like Octopus, tastes like chocolate cake. Awesome!
Thanks Marmy!

Nosebleed

Huh... I had a nosebleed this morning. I don't usually get nosebleeds... in fact, this was the first non-trauma-induced (often from clearing out the excessive nosehairs) nosebleed I've had, just an honest to gosh, out of control nosebleed. Weird.

they made it

Vancouver Canucks v. Anaheim Ducks
Go!

Tonight I'm Gonna Rock You Tonight

Aden and I have tickets to the Queen musical "We Will Rock You" tonight, going for a sexy dinner beforehand at the Senator(?). I'm wearing my new leather soled boots (they're so awesome, and yes, I'm such a girl) and I'm happy. I like to have a splurgy night out once in a while.

Hail to the king baby

The campaign of the Aquamen to replace the Supermen on my desk at work is nearing completion. All that remains of the Supermen is Supergrover, 1950's Superman Robot, and Beppo the Super-monkey (along with a tin Superman lunchbox).

What's nice about Aquaman is he seems to come in many different flavours, which is more than can be said about ol' Clark Kent (sorry cuz'). My co-worker has the hawts for Aquaman... she's got a thing for blonde men with big muscles.

Statements include:

"ooooh, look at the muscles"
"Oh, he's so cuuuute"
"wow, look at those legs"
"I should get some of these for (her son), but really, for me"
"I wish I were a witch and I could make him real..."

(in a related story, this episode of the Rack explains my non-comic book reading coworker's reaction perfectly, derived from the flap over Citizen Steel's package)

Now, if these were in front of her on her desk, everyone would know why... I'm not really sure what my excuse is, other than I'd love an orange scaly tunic.

Thoughts from Teatown

Canada coin denominations --> $2, $1, .25, .10, .05, .01
UK coin denominations --> £2, £1, .50, .20, .10, .05, .02, .01

The £2 coin and the Canadian "toonie" (or "twonie".. doesn't look right no matter how you spell it) are similar in size and both have the dual-metal thing going on (as opposed to a Gwar vs. Metallica "metal dual"), only the silver on the £2 is the inside metal, and on the twonie is the outside metal (the inside metal on the £2 is also larger in size, and there's writing on the edge of the coin... "Standing on the shoulders of giants", the one in my hand says)

The £1 coin is small and thick, as opposed to the $1 Loonie, which is not much thicker than a quarter and just a little larger. I don't know if the pound coin has a cute nickname like the Loonie or not, or if it's just always a pound coin. It too has writing on its edges, varying from issue.

The .50£ coin is large and decagonal (I don't have one in front of me but if I recall it has many flat edges as opposed to being circular). Canada has had 50 cent coins but they're not regular issue or circulation.

The 25 cent coin, or "quarter" in Canada is about the same size as the 10p coin in Britain, which is confusing, as is the fact that the 5p coin is the same size as the Canadian 10 cent coin ("dime").

I'm still trying to determine if the UK coins have clever little nicknames. The only one that I know is the Tuppence, which is the UK two pence coin. It's a huge copper coin which is light but takes up a lot of pocket space, and generally doesn't make much sense... get it.. cents/sense? I'm hilarious.

---

I had a Christmas Cracker yesterday from Pret-A-Manger, which is Turkey; bacon; cranberry sauce; pork w/sage and onion stuffing; three veg mash (potato carrot and swede) and onion in a tortilla wrap. Yeah, doesn't sound the most delightful does it, but I was brave and gave it a go. To be honest, it was pretty damn good. It was like having a complete Thanksgiving dinner (minus the pumpkin pie) in every bite. Yum!

They also have a salted ham wrap which, judging from the samples they were giving out, is pretty tasty, in that addictively salty kind of way.

---

London is fantastically easy to get lost in. I attempted to walk back to the hostel from the office yesterday evening, plotting out my route but keeping the mapbook strapped to my back just in case. Well, it didn't take long, about 15 minutes, in fact, before I no longer knew where I was. I recognized Bank station and then, thinking I was taking a north-westerly street, an hour later found myself on the northeast side of town on Bethnel Green. Thankfully, I was just there the night before so I could find my way to the Underground and make my way back to the hostel, only to return to the area I though I knew, spend a few minutes looking for food and another 40 trying to figure out where I was.

The city is beautiful, just completely not intuitive.

Have to remember to go back to Brick Lane, though, that place was rad.

---

Tonight, I'm off to Southampton, travelling with the Duloks for their gig, and probably doing some roady-like things...
Full report tomorrow, perhaps.

Be(sand)witched

The Brits aren't known for their cuisine. Sad but true. In fact, after three days here I find it hard to believe that the English have any affinity for the food they put in their mouth or body. There's a lot of pre-packaging here, and the grocery stores, at least in central London, tend to allow for piecing together snack-like meals consisting of a fresh piece of fruit, a granola/candy/chocolate bar, an individual-sized packet of crisps (aka potato chips) and bottled juices or waters. Oh yeah, and a sandwich. This place is bleeding sandwich obsessed. Nearly every luchtime joint, corner store or even evening restaurant seems to offer sandwiches, more often than not cut diagonally and stored in a wedge-shaped plastic container with cello-wrap on top.

"EAT.", "Pret-A-Manger" and Subway sandwich shops are everywhere. If you thought there was a Subway around every corner on Toronto, it's literally that way in London. Even the plentiful Starbucks around here sell sandwiches.

This one came from the Tower Bridge Cafe... it's a bacon, chicken and spinach (with mayo) mix. Perfectly palatable, but not something to entice me every day. The Cherry square I had for dessert though: marvelous.

I'm Going To War!

I needed a new suitcase for my impending/looming trip to London (where I shall be mixing business with pleasure: shaken, not stirred) and the lazy looker I am really only went to one location: Winners. Their advertisements told me "you should go", so I did.

Winners, for those who aren't familiar, is kind of like a remnant house or a liquidation world. They get a whole gaggle of cast offs or rejects or returns (mostly, though, end-of-line stuff), primarily in the clothing department, but they also get accessories and some home decor (they have a sister store called Home Sense that is all home decor of this sort). Everything is deeply discounted and requires a lot of rummaging to find the good stuff.

The store near BOBTown had a nice selection of luggage, since a few weeks ago, they were having a luggage promotion and they brought in a lot more stock than normal. I was eyeing up one of those hard case suitcases, but couldn't seem to find one that was sizeable enough for a two week journey without being absurd. So I put it off.

When I went earlier this week, my selection was still a little more limited, but I eventually found a suitcase to my liking (two actually, but one had a faulty button on the inside which I deemed unacceptable, so I went with the other). Did you know the Swiss Army is branching out of not going to war and making knives and now makes luggage?

It's true

I think mine is a Mobilizer 22 as it looks virtually the same as the one pictured, and yet mine was only $80, and not $300+.
Cool?

Overdose

With three children, my friend/neighbour/coworker made out like a bandit with Hallowe'en candy, and now she's bringing satchels of it to work to share. I have a low willpower tolerance to chocolate and chips (and chocolate chip cookies), and this stuff is staring me right in the face. Already in the past hour I've had two tiny bags of chocolate raisins, one of chocolate peanuts, another of some Real Fruit Gummies and a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. At least with these selections I can pretend there's something healthy about it.

grrr...
I've ruined my lunch.

Various bits of random familiarity

The Borat movie is out soon, and if you've seen the trailers (or if you're at all familiar with "Da Ali G Show", or even "The Daily Show"-style of field reporting) then you know what to expect: unsuspecting people encountering a larger-than-life character provoking them or making them uncomfortable. Borat is a "foreign" character from Kazakhstan, and the set-up of the film has him acting as roving reporter, investigating American culture for his homeland's education. The typical North American's response (at least initially, and generically speaking) to broken-English speakers is that they're non-threatening, confused, simplistic to a degree, meaning we're willing to cut them a lot more slack, which comedian Sacha Baron Cohen uses to his full advantage. It's both exploitative and provocative, and, depending on your tastes, funny.

Having been a fan of this style of "unsuspecting" comedy for some time, most specifically the Daily Show's poker-faced delivery of outrageous statements to people expecting serious interviews, I've always wondered what it's like from the other side. Even though I laugh, I still say, "those poor people". Well a Borat "victim" tells her side. To be honest, I'm surprised at how lacking in bitterness it is. In fact, the writer seems almost disappointed in herself that she got "duped" by Cohen, but it's fascinating to see how the process happens.

I can't make comment until I see the film, but one statement artist Linda Stein makes in her article is "for the sake of a cheap laugh, he chooses to reinforce the stereotype of women as the inferior sex, at the expense of women". To me, this doesn't sound like Cohen's comedy, if anything, he usually attempts to provoke the opposite response... to make the reinforcing of stereotypes the joke worth laughing at, not the stereotype itself. Methinks the Stein is a little sensitive on the subject, but then, after seeing the film I may be inclined to agree with her. I don't know.

What I do know is statements like "maybe it’s his way of gaining power over the childhood sting of religious animosity or the feelings of inferiority from a woman’s beating him at Scrabble" are just catty, and stem from a base of hurt feelings rather than intellectual commentary.

Borat's page on the MySpaces

Going to Teatown

Yes. Going to London. Flight is booked. Aden's flight is booked. Now all I have to do is prepare for work and figure out living arrangements.

Essentially, I get one week free accommodations (paid by me but reimbursed by work) and one week Aden and I need to foot ourselves. London, well, it's not cheap. Hotels start at 89 GBP per night. That about $200 Canadian. Ouch. So plan one has work checking into a corporate apartment for the two weeks I'm there. If it's cheaper for two weeks in a corp apt than one week at a hotel, then I'll be doing that and all will be good.
Elsewise, I'm going to need to spend a week in a hostel. I know Liz runs a hostel, which is mighty convenient, so I'll contact her about location. If it works out to be conveninent enough, I'll stay at the hostel for the week I'm working, that way Aden and I can stay in the hotel on the corporate bill for the week following. Hopefully it works out.

I'm excited to see Liz and Mar and to meet the people I've been communicating with in London for three years now. As well, I might have a couple days to make a jaunt up to see my ex-pat Glaswegian friend which would be very cool... just need to make it back to London on Sunday to meet Aden at Heath Row or where ever we land when we fly across the pond.

I'm not really concerned about what I do during week 2 with Aden. I just think it'll be so fantastic to swing London with her no matter what we do.

"In Search of Sasquatch" - That Was A Kickass "In Search Of..."

Geekout time. I was indoctrinated into the world of RPGs (Role Playing Games) this past weekend, for my first-ever participatory engagement. I met Aden while she was on hiatus from playing , but she's been gaming for years and recently stepped back into her various gaming worlds. I've joined her on a couple of ventures and realized that spectating is interesting but participating would be a lot more fun.

The dynamics aren't too difficult to understand, especially given my City of Heroes background, although some of the intricacies are still escaping me. The game I joined in on Sunday was Feng Shui, the action hero role play. I was told if I wanted to participate I'd need to think of an action star or character I wanted to base my persona off of. After a belabouring couple of minutes I linked myself six degrees from John McClane to Chewbacca. The moment I hit upon Chewbacca I said to myself "Me am not Chewbacca", which is the opening line of "In Me Own Words: The Autobiography of Bigfoot" by Graham Roumeau, and I knew I had it.

I turned to Aden and said, "I'ma be Bigfoot". She laughed a dismissive laugh, then double checked my expression. She had mistaken my wry smirk for joking before realizing what it actually was: excitement. She let out a groan, and tried to talk me out of it, but I can be stubborn with my silly ideas, and I decided to go for it. Besides, Bigfoot is an action star. He was the bad, bad monster in Rob Zombie/Steve Niles/Richard Corbin's "Bigfoot" comic book mini-series, he was the short-lived drummer for Tenacious D, he's a close relative of the Abominable Snowman who appears in Jonathan Richman's neighbourhood supermarket and he was an antagonist for Lee Majors in the Six Million Dollar Man. Witness:

Steve Austin encounters Bigfoot... and rips his frackin' arm off! That bionic man is a jerk.

Steve (now sporting 'stache) and Sasquatch meet again, although I'm seriously wondering why the Bigfoot episodes also feature Time Travellers. Makes no sense.
This is the conclusion to that episode of the Bionic Woman where Sasquatch saves the day. The Bionic Woman is hot, but oh so useless.

My Bigfoot rules. He's based off of "supernatural creatures" template, is pretty strong, incredibly tough, fierce looking (he has a "power" called "Brain Shredder" which essentially makes the bad guys crap their pantaloons), and a nervous stomach (his other "ability" is "nauseating chunks" which means he throws up some ugly stuff and everyone in radius gets sick around him... potent). He's not very bright, but he's learning English and human ways (thanks to the Hendersons and Steve Austin, he's familiar with human nature in some respects) and he was at one point "cursed" with human appearance so he kind of looks like classic Hank McCoy (a bit of a mongoloid Alec Baldwin) when he's not all big and hairy.
He's fun.

Yes, we have no bananas

The quiet war against black Sigatoka, the disease that threatens to wipe out banana crop globally. Imagine a world without bananas... poor monkeys.

PSA

Some of what you need to know about expiration dates

also:
A Guide To Shelf Life

F-bomb food and just F-bombin'

Make your own jokes (we certainly did)...

Frankz

There's a Hot Dog shoppe near Dundas and Yonge called Frankz and though I've pretty much been eliminating the whole snout, arseholes and entrails streetmeat from my diet (ever since someone posed the question of "where do the vendors go to the bathroom and where do they wash their hands?"), I had a hankering for a frankfurter. Well, to my surprise Frankz hot dogs are 100% all beef, made from shoulder meat and no filler, made in an all natural casing. Hell, it was practically healthy. I mean, I had fries with it, but they make great fries there too.

You get your choise of 19 toppings, you can have cheese (but pay a little extra for it), and they have three kinds of buns to choose from, and you can get it boiled, steamed or bbq'd. It's obviously a bit more expensive than the $1 streetcorner fare, but if you want to feel a little bit better about what you're putting in your body, it's certainly worth it. At the same time, it didn't really taste much different than a regular hot dog (although the casing was a little more rigid making the dog kinda ... pop every time you bite down on it.

A nice surprise, and a very clean enviro (they even have a liquor license).

Trolls, not just for the internet and bridges anymore

We were having a conversation at lunch today about the various downtown gyms and we were informed about the men's changeroom and the various... activities that go on there. Apparently the men's sauna is a notorious locale for the sex, so unless you're looking to get doubly sweaty then best not to venture in there. More a notice to unsuspecting Finns than anything, heh. Meanwhile, to expand upon it all, we were told about the "sauna trolls", who I guess are best defined as gym members who never actually partake in any of the facilities but rather troll around the changerooms in a towl (and likely flip-flops) scoping the talent to potentially lure into the hotbox. It's all pretty fascinating and slightly disturbing, like finding your roommate's gimp costume (not implicating Rooms in anything, honest).

Cocksoup

Because I have the mentality of an 8-year-old sometimes, I find this very funny

The despondent correspondent

When I was packing last Thursday in preparation for my visit to hometown Thunder Bay, I packed a few long-sleeve shirts, a couple of sweaters and pants, pants, pants. Nobody told me it was going to be 38 degrees in the sun (for our American friends, that's equivalent to really frickin' hot, especially for Northwestern Ontario). So hot it was that the last two nights I've not been sleeping comfortably. Last night I kept fading in and out of consciousness until about 4:30 when I felt the temperature break and an ever so slightly cooling breeze enter the open window.

Monday was excessively gross and muggy (we don't really use the term "muggy" in Toronto... it tends to be superceded by "smoggy") to the point that I had to cut my run short because the air was so thick I couldn't breathe properly.

Today seems to have calmed down to a respectable 21 degrees (for our American friends, that's the equivalent to a nice day), which is actually summer weather usually here. It's so very strange.

A dose of the outside world

Thunder Bay can have a tendency to be a little... plain... at times uncultured. But then there are reminders that some diversity can be added to the mix of franchise prep kitchens like Applebees or East Side Marios, your basic donut-n-coffee shops like Tim Hortons or Robin's or mainstream radio/music.

The Calico Coffee House is located on Bay Street beside the Hoito and is a refuge from generica and a sorely needed replacement for the gone-but-not-forgotten Great Northwest Coffee Company. A few steps down from ground level, Calico is clean, classy, and inviting. The common mix of caffeinated and warm drinks are available, as well as an assortment of baked goods. There's benches, fireside leather chairs arranged living room style, and some standard table and chairs. Even by Toronto standards it's an above-par put-together joint.

An old and dear friend (I mean old in the sense that we've known each other a long time) took me to Caribou Restaurant and Wine Bar last night. The only thing better than the food and drinks was the company, and it all was spectacular. An upscale resto (meals are between 20 and 35 $) that made new use of an old Robin's Donuts location. It's not a huge place, but it's apparently always busy, so reservations for dinner are recommended. Caribou takes pride in its wine selection (it's wine list is massive), and if you're looking for a decent scotch, this is where you'll find it. The starters are amazing (garlic lovers take note of the caesar salad and the hummus that comes with the bread sticks) and my goats cheese salad was fantastic. My companion had a grilled chicken pizza (heavy on the pine nuts), while I had the bruchetta chicken (chicken stuffed with basil and tomato). The martinis flowed freely, our server was darling, and dessert, lemon gelato, went great in a gin martini btw. Not for the thrifty, but for anyone needing a flavourful dining experience in T.Bay, this is it.

The music scene in Thunder Bay gets a weekly boost, as the Chronicle Journal has been adding a suppliment to promote local bands and touring acts that come to town. This would be fantastic news if the youth of the city actually read the paper. But thankfully Lakehead University's student radio CILU is also on the scene, with a new broadcast location, a greater library, and a plan to bring the local scene front and center. Now if they could only restrict how much metal they play.

Working hard and getting fat

Ugh... being sick for a little over a week sucked enough, but getting healthy when the sun stops and the rain starts was like an elbow to the solarplexes. It's now officially been two weeks since I really exherted myself in any capacity and I think that's the cause for my current state of doldrums and my apathy towards blogging (or writing of any kind) as of late. Being stationed in the basement for some reason has also become a negative rather than a positive to my motivational factors as well (used to be that not being able to tell the weather outside kept me in a pretty constant mood). Plus the bubble burst at work and now I seem to be the man in demand (get it, the "man" in deMANd... lame). So, what to do?
Eat.
Yup.
Eat.

Work, both as blessing and damnation, provides ample snacking opportunities. Why, right now I'm polishing off a rather sizeable slice of white chocolate butterscotch cheesecake with fresh berries. Yup, that's about a week's worth of biking right there. Worth it? Why not.

(2 minutes later...)
Regret.

meanwhile...

I have my own Wikipedia entry... well, my first name does anyway

A big Vader-esque "Noooooooooooo!"

Eyewitness reports tell me that, apparently, Dipamo's Barbecue joint, aka GEEKENT'S FAVOURITE RESTAURANT IN TOWN, has closed down. My source tells me there's "paper on the windows and a bailiff's notice on the door". Even their website has shut down.

When I first moved to Toronto, I took my time getting to know the flavour culture of the city. Coming from a fairly whitebread background, I wasn't used to a lot of exotic herbs, spices, marinades and the like. Hell, I was hardly used to non-exotic versions of each. Anyway, mi amigo GAK took me to a lot of fine establishments to get me comfortable with a variety of local multi-ethnic cuisine, enough to feel safe venturing out on my own. But GAK, who lived up near Spadina/Eglinton, had me most excited about one place in particular...
"It's a slow-cooked sweet-meat barbecue joint. Old style southern cooking."
I drooled a little bit at the suggestion. It took a few months for it to open, and when it did, GAK and I established ourselves quickly as regulars there. The meat was always fall apart tender, no matter what you ordered, and their dry spice rub and in house bbq sauce was really what sold the meal. Some of the waitstaff soon knew us by sight and always had a smile for us (and a fudgescicle after our meal), I still have a few packets of toothpicks kicking around the Ronces, and my memories will always be fond.
GAK, moved away to New York in 2002, but we'd always make a visit to Di P's (as we'd call it) whenever he returned. We even coerced GAK's brother to have his bachelor party meal there... I'd taken my sister and her bf there many times, my parents, and hell, anyone that would go with me. Metro and I celebrated our new roommatedom there, like real me should.

Dipamos, you will be greatly missed by me and my meat-lovin' friends.

Sigh. I guess Phil's Original is my new best friend now.

Bread

I'm not sure that I've ever made bread before... I know for sure that I've never made it without the assistance of measuring cups or measuring spoons before, but the resulting loaf didn't look too bad:

It's a bit yeasty (and could use a touch more sugar) for my taste but those that like a good Marmite would certainly approve. I've already eaten half of it. Since I only had one loaf pan, the second one didn't exactly get the proper treatment:

It's like the Ol' Drippy of breads.

Dinner Time

It's Bastardized Black Bean and Beef Burrito night

including:
1 can black beans, thoroughly smushed and heated
1 small onion diced and sauteed with olive oil, 2 cloves garlic and thyme
1/2 lb ground beef cooked and hashed with onion/garlic, cumin and paprika
Mozzarella cheese (this awfully mushy "No Name" extra-skim stuff that's just a nightmare to do anything with)
Diced green peppers and tomatoes
Fat free sour cream

My Precious

In the sub-let I've discovered a jar of "no name" smooth peanut butter. The following are its ingredients:

Freshly Roasted Peanuts, Icing Sugar, Corn Syrup Solids, Hydroginated Vegetable Oil (Contains Soybean Oil), Salt

Okay, and this is healthy how??? That reads off like dessert ingredients. Add some flower and baking powder and you got yourself a life threatening cake (hydroginated oils... c'mon people, get with it... they use hydroginated because it takes longer for the oils to separate, because, you know, stirring is complicated).

And yet I ate some.

SILLY THINGS TO DO

by me - 06.11.2005

Drink a 2 litre bottle of cola and then rapidly swallow a packet of Mentos. Then tell me what happened, because I'm curious to know.

More trailer fun

Anyone see the trailer for Ang Lee's new film Brokeback Mountain? It reminds me of the quintessential Sundance film, minus the pudding.

(reference note: This joke refers to episode 209 of South Park entitled "Chef's Salty Chocolate Balls". In it, the Sundance film festival moves to South Park, to which Cartman decries: "independent films are those black and white hippie movies. They're always about gay cowboys eating pudding.")

I liked Toast's comment on this gay cowboy love story starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger: "Somehow I just don't think America is quite ready for that movie yet".

Also, saw last night before Capote the trailer for Memoirs of a Geisha (another failing of the "i before e" rule, *ahem*) and, I have to say, I'm excited to see it for one reason and one reason only. Michelle Yeoh. Forget Ziyi Zhang, Michelle Yeoh is the most attractive thing about that film. She defies Hollywood standards and just keeps getting better looking as she ages.

I just watched the classic kung-fu comedy Wing Chun in which she stars and found myself with a stupid schoolboy-crush smile on my face nearly the whole time, little daydreamy hearts fluttering about my head. If I had a notebook I'd write Graig *Hearts* Michelle Yeoh all over it.

In Memoirs, Yeoh plays Zhang's tutor in the arts of geisha, turning her into the most desirable woman in Japan. Learn from the master I say, rrrrowr. I want to have Michelle Yeoh's babies.

On the subject of me

The only thing I find difficult about being alone is the silence, and I don't mean that I don't have music to listen to, tv to watch, or general ambient noise. Instead its the fact that it's possible to spend a full day without saying a word out loud, and it's a weird sensation, being so prolongedly mute. I find it's good for the sanity just to sing along with the music (even though I'm an embarassingly awful singer), or say "excuse me" to a stranger you pass on the sidewalk, or order some meat at the St. Lawrence Market, or chat up the cheese lady in Kensington.
Ah, yes, cheese makes it all better.
Asiago and goatsmilk gouda from Austria... yes please.
Sorry, what was I talking about?

Green tea has caffeine

That whole "i" before "e" thing we learned in grade 2: bullshit.

Caffeine + Green Tea = Who knew?
Not me.
At least I know now why I'm all jittery.

I could climb a wall.
Like Diabolik.
Sans suction cupper thingies!

Thanksforgiving

Marmy and Toast invited the lads and lassies over for a huge Thanksgiving dinner tonight. The company was great and the food even better. Kicked off with a bowl of butternut squash and chapotle soup, I knew I was in trouble already as I felt the gourdalicious stock filling up my innards. Followed that up with special mashed potatoes, a squash mixture, turkey, corn bread, David's "mystery meat stuffing", apple sauce and fresh cranberry sauce... and then crammed in a turkey wing on top. Ouch.

I paused for a good long while, and asked if there were prearranged resting stations to camp out on... the starches and carbs were attacking my awakenness centers. Thankfully we had Katamari Damacy to entertain us all. So simple a game (you roll a ball which gathers stuff and grows larger), but so highly entertaining to watch and to play. The storyline is almost a Galactus/herald parody but I'll not go any further into that analysis for getting overly geeky.

The rest of the evening was spent playing one-on-one competitive Katamari while consuming your choice of pumpkin, lemon merangue or apple/peach/cranberry cobbler pie, or Louisiana bread pudding with Southern Comfort sauce, and golden chocolate chip cookie bars. I ate so much I felt like Mr Creosote...

Thanks J&D for the great food and hospitality!

Sundee Shenanegans

Woken up bright and early by some highly irritating quasi-"music" on CBC radio. Too tired to roll over and turn it off I left it to play for about 20 minutes before somehow I managed to muster a slapping of the "snooze" button. 9 minutes later and CBC has managed to find something even more annoying than before. I shut it off with rampageous (I made that up) action, and stewed in my dopey sleep juices (ew, forget I said that) for a few minutes and then, just after 9am rolled around, trucked my ass out of bed.
I have an 11:00 meeting with WNoodle, and another deadline to meet.

Through groggy eyes I feebly attempt to edit my Thor's Comic Column reviews which I wrote in a fit of uninspiration during Mythbusters at midnight the night before. I had another review to write and my brain wasn't ready for thinking... it wasn't ready for much, except perhaps more sleep. I ploughed through the review in about an hour (and it's decent but not great) and popped up to the shower, cleaned myself up and got myself pretty for some Pacific Mall fun.

A quick chat with Emma, whom like so many others, is having massive ragweed reactions right now, and I was out the door. I passed the neighbours briefly, exchanged cordialities before rushing off to the streetcar stop to wait ten minutes. Noods was sitting in his car in front of his apartment, waiting patiently. I was only ten minutes late. We zipped over to Toast and Marmy's place but first stopped off at a Mac's for a morning dose of wakeup we call Red Bull (mine was sugar free, Noods went all out).

With Toast and Marmy loaded into the car we jetted (well, Golfed) on up to Fairview, an expansive mall out in 'burbialand where everything is oh so generic. We waited in Fairview's awkwardly arranged food court for Metrogeek, and in the process decided feeding our bellies wasn't a bad idea. I opted for a cranberry MMmmmmuffin, while the power trio opted for 5 Taco Bell tacos for $3, a tremendous bargain which I'm sure their bowels thanked them for later.

Metro showed up in due time, and decided to have an Arby's snack while we were in Rome. He came back with a surprise on his tray...
Me...
"I didn't know you were a model," he says, and I give him a querying look. He nods and looks down, drawing my eyes down to his tray liner...
Witness:

"Holy crap!" I say tactfully, snatching the paper out from under his sammich. Turning it right side up, and it immediately looks nothing like me, but upside down... it's fuckin' me!

"I didn't know I enjoyed curly fries that much."
"And I don't think your teeth are that white," Marmy adds.

But the likeness is outstanding.

photo by photojunkie

I think he's officially become my Adversary... the Nerd.Inc. to my geek.ent. if you will.

Anywho, the five of us piled up into Metro's VW and jetta'd on over to Pacific Mall where we (Hail Mary) found a parking spot immediately. We spent the day roaming its aisles looking for, well, very little in particular, except perhaps a quality pirate of Seven Swords which Noods had just seen at the Toronto International Film Festival and said rocked his socks sock-rockin' style. Well, the only available copy had no English subtitles so we crapped out on that one, but we managed some delectible treats from one of Pacific's many fine imported confectioners (I got 3 bags of "W Taste" - which is like a Tootsie Roll covered in coffee powder - so I was happy, and I found a copy of Wing Chun with Michelle Yeoh, which made me *very* happy).

From there we went to "All Star Wings" or some such up in Buttonville? (Markham somewhere) Yeah, they have 80 flavours of wings, which really I think is just too many. We ordered 50 (three different flavours) plust 10 extra, which went down waay to fast, so we opted for another 50 and after I gnawed off 28 I was kaput. The flavours were okay, but I've still yet to find a place that can top On Deck's marvelous wings in Thunder Bay. Their cajun wings are the best wings I've ever had.

Good company mowing down of piles of deep fried bird parts seems like a nice capper to the day, but nope, we still had to drive back to Fairview and then back into urban life again. I got home about 7:30, just in time to recall that although I had finished my reviews I had yet to send them off. A final scan, and yes, they're kind of crappy this week, and phoof, not my problem anymore. I had two hours of television time before I needed to head out yet again for the National concert, which I've been looking forward to since early this year.

I again made my peace with Emma and forged off into the forbidden lands of Toronto's night, the glow of the backlight on my iPod my only warmth. I sautered back over to the streetcar stop, the same as this morning, and leaned against the pole and settled in to a nice game of Solitare. So enraptured was I that I completely missed a streetcar which I didn't notice until it had already taken off. I felt like a dork, but fair is fair, he didn't tap his horn or ring his bell at all, and my headphones weren't on very loud. So ten minutes later I was finally on my way.

The National rocked ass.

More on the sideblog later about the band, however, one thing really pissed me off about the gig had nothing at all to do with the band, but rather the two skanks that were in attendance. Yes, I said skanks.

You ever see that movie the Banger Sisters? Me neither, but these two girls did and took it as gospel for how they wanted to live their life. They proceeded to yell loudly at each other during the National's quieter moments, their conversation pretty much of the effect of "which one do you want to fuck tonight". I was about one row back from the stage, and halfway through the set these two squawking birds decided to rush the stage and try and get the bands attention. They were total old school skanks.
The clothes, the hair, the makeup... for Christsake they were even drinking "50". That's the total skank/old man drink. At one point one of the skanks noticed the object of her affection, the bass player, was drinking Stella and she smacked herself on the head (literally) and said to her skank friend "I should have gotten a Stella." Because, yeah, then that will give you something in common with the bass player, because, you like totally both like Stella. And it's not like you have the music in common, because it could have been some shit raggae fusion punk band and you still would have been doing that skank dance that you both do.

And then, when the band was leaving the stage after their set, the girls... and I'm not making this up... jumped up and down flapping their arms waving at the band to try and get their attention. Bloody bikes.

Anyway, the band came back for an encore and the girls wouldn't shut up as they played one of their most precious, delicate, quietest songs. It was to the point that even the band members were looking at them cross (us bloody hipsters... none of us have it in us to tell the skanks that none of the band will fuck 'em if they don't shut the hell up). The band left after the encore and the skanks went a-huntin' to try and track them down. Then the band came back, a few of us intentionally filled the space in front of the stage to try to keep the skanks at bay, but those skanks are pushy skanks and they even elbowed me saying "we were like here before so..." and I just ignored them.
Skanks should be banned, I swear.
"50". Sheesh.

The evening ended with a trip on the supway where I scared the piss out of Ms. Luminescent who hasn't seen me since my hair was, well, like it is in the above picture. Current pictures, were there any, would reveal a mop of hair that, well, resembles a mop. There's plenty of it. It took about 20 seconds before the seed of recognition set in but Ms. L finally realized I wasn't just some creepy arse, but in fact a creepy arse she knows! RAH!
We talked on our way to our mutual subway destination, as Ms. L now lives in our area (in fact on a street I once lived on). I came home and decided that, with the amount of Red Bull and W Taste in me (as well as various green tea products consumed throughout the day) that wasting two hours blogging this would be better than the caffinated struggle to get to sleep.

I think I judged wrong on that one... what a boring post.

The Fellowship of the Sarnie

Today was a special day at work - at lunch specifically - a day that shall live in infamy. NR had opened a can of beans into a bowl and microwaved until warm, complete with ever so tempting pork fat, while ES and I both had parmesean chicken from the cafe, with different sides adorning. But it was our man LG who had brought one of his handsome, mouth tempting concoction-on-a-kaiser to the table in a silver wrapper. It shimmered playfully, catching the light and the eyes of the room. He unwrapped and there sat a bit of perfection.

But perfection comes at a cost, perfection is very filling. LG made it through half of his sandwich before decided it had got the best of him. NR, she said she was still hungry, and the other half was bequeathed to her. Yea, she saw the powerful effects of the sandwich on LG and made mention that she, so full of beans, would not be able to devour the entire half of the holy morsel. She halved the half and proceeded to let the 1/4 sandwich, oh divine sandwich, embrace her innards.

Yet, what was to be done with the remaining 1/4? The solution was simply really, as eyes glanced around the table landing on ES, a man who has been known to eat grazingly all day and all night. It would be he to whom the remainder of the Sandwich (now capitalized) would be bestowed. HOLD!
Perhaps it couldn't be. ES had to go to the bank, and with a strained arch in his foot, the path to the fifth floor and back again was a treacherous one. So I chose to be the Frodo to his Aragon and volunteered to journey the foil wrapped precious 1/4 sanwich to ES's 5th floor desk. The journey involved no dragons or spiders or treacherous fellowships, but a simple winding from being out of shape and a faulty passcard which took four swipes to get in the door.

From there, what follow is events as they actually happened, via email:

-----Original Message-----
From: ES
Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2005 4:07 PM
To: NR; LG; Graig Kent
Subject: Tasty sandwich indeed

Thank you to everyone who made the possible

LG - maker of sandwich
NR - for being too full after eating 1/4 of the sandwich
Graig - bringer of sandwich

See ya at the Belcher,
ES

-----Original Message-----
From: NR
Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2005 4:17 PM
To: ES; LG; Graig Kent
Subject: RE: Tasty sandwich indeed

ES,

On behalf of the crew I would also like to thank-you for remaining positive about the sandwich and finally incorporating it your life. You are a true role model.

NR

-----Original Message-----
From: Graig Kent
Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2005 4:21 PM
To: NR; ES; LG
Subject: RE: Tasty sandwich indeed

And I would like to thank the Academy, and my moms and pops who have supported me all these years, my cat, my rabbit and my guinea pig, all of whom smell, but I don't hold that against them. But most of all I'd like to thank the man upstairs without whom none of this would have been possible. Yes, I'd like to thank the guy on the roof who fixes the air conditioning. I couldn't survive here without you, brother.
Thank you,
-g-

-----Original Message-----
From: NR
Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2005 4:33 PM
To: Graig Kent; ES; LG
Subject: RE: Tasty sandwich indeed

It is apparent that we have all been touched by the Sandwich in someway on this fifteenth of September two thousand and five...I think we should all have a moment of silence for this mighty force that unites us as one. However I cant help but think Graig is the only member that did not ingest the holy morsels - I feel this is a travesty! Perhaps ES still has the glorious foil that contained the vigorous seasoned meat - maybe you could offer our abandoned friend a crumb that remains in the crevices ... we can only hope...

-----Original Message-----
From: Graig Kent
Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2005 4:46 PM
To: NR
Cc: ES; LG
Subject: RE: Tasty sandwich indeed

Yes, bring on the foil.
My fillings ache for the flavour of sandwich + electrical discharges.

For today, the Fifteenth of September Aught Five, I offer in praise of the sandwich this excessively lame Haiku

Oh tasty sandwich
What joys you have brought to us
In shiny foil wrap

-----Original Message-----
From: ES
Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2005 4:41 PM
To: NR; Graig Kent; LG
Subject: RE: Tasty sandwich indeed

I know, how about on the sixteenth of September two thousand and five (After Death), L. Tiberius Eugene G present us disciples with another sacrificial oven roasted turkey sandwich with hand sliced aged milk bacterial product.

Or maybe go to little India for $9.95 all you can eat buffet! Can't beat that.

-----Original Message-----
From: LG
Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2005 5:05 PM
To: Graig Kent; NR
Cc: ES
Subject: RE: Tasty sandwich indeed

Although I was away through all of this - I can see you were all touched. I am pleased.

I leave tonight with a new found dogma from the bliss this gift has brought you. I am pleased.

Go in peace my fellow brethren.

Michael Jackson, look what you've done

I don't know what technology Subway is using to "toast" their sandwiches, but it's scary stuff. I mean, "toasting" should not take less than 20 seconds. And it shouldn't make your sandwich gross.
I mean, I had my usual italian bmt with lettuce, pickles and honey mustard (I held the mayo on account of my stomach) and the "toaster" turned the whole thing into the sandwich equivalent of microwaved eggs. Grody to the max, dude.

Subway: think fresh. Unless your toasting it, at which point, Subway: this stale and wilty.

On the line online

Playing City of Heroes last night, during a lull Nood asks, "So, what's new?"
A few responses from the other folks.
Me - "Emma left me..."
Me - "...Other than that, nothing much"
(Pause for reaction).
Responses include: "WHAT?!?", "OMG" and "You're kidding, right."
Me - "Yeah, she's gone away for three days."
Responses include: "Don't scare me like that", "Jesus", and "asshole".

Hehehehe.
I also got a coworker with it today.

She - "How was your weekend"
Me - "Oh, you know... good, but not great. Went out to dinner with my sister on Saturday, didn't really do much otherwise. Ran errands and whatnot."
She - "You and Emma didn't do anything interesting."
Me - "Oh, she left me yesterday... oh and dinner on Saturday, like I said."
She - "Huh?" (Semi-shocked look on her face).
Me - "She went to her mom's for a couple days."
She - "Oh (laughs). Good. I though you were a little... nonchalant about it."
Me - "Hehehe, I love doing that."

crazy buggers

I don't really have a problem with bugs. Spiders I used to cohabitate with when they lived behind my toilet y'know (ah Gringo Starr, how I miss thee). Ants are a miracle of nature (although bothersome when they infest, especially when they crawl on you while you sleep), and bees, especially carpenter bees, are fascinating.
But there's something about centipedes, those flat, reddish, multi-legged bugs that just gives me the wiggins... especially when they're crawling around the inside of the shower curtain at eyeball height. Trippy.
Literally, I almost tripped and pulled a "million dollar baby" on the side of the bathtub right there. But I kept my composure, opened my mouth, let my cheeks fill with excessively warm water and "PTUI", spat that sucker down the drain. Of course those little bastards are pretty resiliant, and it'll likely crawl its way out again... the only thing that seems to stop these bastards is a good swat on the exoskeleton, which causes all their legs to fall off and go "twitchy twitchy spasm".
Isn't the cat supposed to take care of these things?

Last week, I was a little more humane, when, while opening up a kitchen cupboard, I noticed a spider, dangling from the ceiling, not three inches away from my brow. I jerked my head back as a natural reaction, then tried to trace the origin of the line it was hanging from.
I reached up and grabbed the strand and floated the little buddy over to one of my plants where I notice the occasional tiny fruit-fly esque thing. It can build a web there and have some eatins. I got no beefs with it.

that's more than ten apples

Making up for the missed WDA get-together from a few weeks back, I decided that I should take my sister and her partner to Ten Feet Tall (located at 1381 Danforth Ave, get off at Greenwood Station, 1/2 block east). The atmosphere is cozy and strange with a wall covered with plastic insects rubber cemented to it. The menus covers are converted record sleeves, and there's all sorts of curious annotations written into it. The bathrooms have reading material (the women have magazines, the guys get essential Calvin and Hobbes collections).

The martini portions were ample, the food serving sizes ranged from too huge (my sister's pad thai) to just enough (my Ten Foot Tall salad with chicken). We split an insanely decadent triple-layer chocolate cake while I polished off my sister's martini (I was feeling pretty good with about 7 oz. of liquor in my body, thanks and that's from only 1 1/2 drinks).

The staff are welcoming and friendly, the kitchen crew were more than accommodating to Emma's vast allergy list (and we enjoyed their squeaky spider as a means of alerting the waiters that food was ready for serving). A very good time was had. Spacious enough that you don't feel crowded but seats enough that you can get a good sized party table if you call ahead or go at the right time (there was a group of 10 + baby when we got there).

Recommended (they do weekend brunches too).

Rope-a-dope

Emma was reading me an article yesterday, prefacing it with a "Hey, the Pope died."

As she was reading the article aloud, she said, "Cause of death has not yet been disclosed."
"Not true," I contested. "They said cause of death was God's will."

Badumbump*crash*

...What?

oh those sickness woes

I broke down and went to the clinic on Friday, landing in just before a flood of 7 people came in. It was still a good 1/2 hour of waiting though, and there I was without any Hungry Hungry Hippoes to play. Yes, the waiting game sucks.

Anyway, the doc prescribed me some Flonase, which is supposed to help clear up my sinuses and help it all drain better. He could tell my sinuses were blocked by looking in my ear. "You've got some fluid back-up in your right ear," he said. Crazy man.
Anyway, been taking my snuff stuff and it does help my congestion, although I still get the odd fit of coughs, not nearly as common as it has been though.

FIGHT!

Bailey's sitting at the basement window staring at a dark pathway of nothingness. Two cats are fighting out back somewhere, and she's growling at them like a dog... but they can't hear her. Silly cat.

Notes to self

- bacon and green tea do not go well together.

- a bag of chips at four in the afternoon can really ruin your supper, even if you eat it at eight o'clock.

- when you're going to someone's place that you've never been to before, try taking directions with you instead of, you know, guessing your way there.

Drink up, buttercup

And so it went again last night. A day full of mild discomfort and the occasional, but purposeful, cough... nothing resembling the coughing fit from Sunday night. But as I lay me down to sleep again last night, I could feel it again, every time I breathed in and the wind rushed past that little patch at the base of my throat and tickled it. Instead of a laugh a massive series of spastic lung convulsions erupted.

I tried different positions, and breathing in the warm air from under the blankets. I tried warm milk and water with a heavy lemon component. I tried drugs but no cough syrup because I wasn't smart enough to think of it. After an hour of getting in and out of bed to dose myself with liquids (and the occasional pee) Emm said something that mirrored a recently dismissed thought I had:

"Why don't you take a shot?"
"A shot?"
"Alcohol? It's like the base ingredient for cough syrup isn't it?"

So I dusted off a shot glass, filled it with gin and a topper of Triple Sec (hey, might as well have it taste good), said my requisite "I'll drink to that, bottoms up" (ref. Parliament) and downed the shot.
An instant warming sensation rolled down my tongue and spread around my throat, a soothing tingle which I could feel as it trailed down my gully (my apologies to any recovering alcoholics for these graphic details that no doubt are sending you into rehabilitative fits). It tickled but in a good way, making me cough once again, but it was a much more delightful cough. It felt good, that cough.
Emma said:

"Maybe you should take another..."
And I had already begun pouring. "I'll drink to that, bottoms up" and it was off to bed.

I did indeed stop coughing... there I waslaying in bed feeling the warming sensation swirling around in my belly, and I was smiling. I was relaxed and really feelin' good. A pair of shots will do that to you. My relaxation quickly translated into fatigue, as sleep was taking over. But...
But I couldn't get comfortable.
For twenty minutes I tossed and turned (and got up to pee twice) but nothing seemed to be working. Every position, every angle just seemed awkward. I didn't think I should care, but logicbrain said "you'll regret it in the morning if you stay like that".
And then the coughs started again. They weren't nearly as bad as before, less vibrato, but they were still bothersome. Emma finally came for sleep and a handful of coughs and a dozen positions later I think I exhausted myself and damned well went to sleep.

They're really restful sleeps when you kind of pass out like that, but jeez, it's a hell of a way to get there.

No, not bleach

It has come to my attention that my local convenience store (one of many local convenience stores), White Corner, is no longer carrying Old Dutch potato chips (as seen in Corner Gas).
It's an outrage.
But it's not their fault, as it seems there's not much of a market over here and the store has been taken off the delivery route by the company. My little taste of home, gone.
I think I'm gonna write a letter.
'Cause I'm old.

Welcome to Squaresville, population: me

After trecking through Queen East for 90 minutes on Thursday and biking to work on Friday for the first time since November, Emm and I took a long (5+ hours) roam around tee-dot. It was supposed to be a nifty 2 degrees out (which is like 39 - or something - in Fahrenheit) but the cutting, oppressive wind was our consant nemesis the entire time. We were the spies too dumb to come in from the cold. Emm seemed to think she got sunburned, I think it's more windburn than anything.

Our roamings took us to Seedy Saturday, where we picked up some tomato and other veggie seeds for our garden-to-be this year, as well as a huge jar of buckwheat honey which at $11 was an insane steal. From there it was random stopoffs at drug stores, cd shoppes, bookstores, coffee shoppes, an eaterie (for some mid-day snacking), and the odd apparel shoppe (including the uber-chi-chi spectacles place where Sir Elton gets most of his frames, apparently).

We left at some point after noon and returned just past six. I quickly got to work on some squash soup, which turned out as good, if not better, than I've ever made it (see below for recipe). After that was all done and ingested, it was lights out as I tried to do some reading, but passed out with a cat on my back instead.

The phone rang at 8:00. Emma picks up.

Emm - Hello
Caller - Hi Emm, It's Jeremy, where are you
Emm - We're, at home?
Jer - Why aren't you here?
Emm - Why aren't we where?
Jer - Dinner. We're waiting for you.
Emm - Oh shit, I totally forgot

Y'see, apparently I had arranged for some friends - comprised of the "Go Team Action Bloggers" plus Emma - to meet up at Ten Feet Tall, a restaurant on the Danforth at 7pm. Also apparently, I completely forgot I had done so and thus missed my own arranged dinner engagement. I blame the impromptu and separate arrival of Rannie and Kelly at our domicile on Friday night (which led to good conversation and good dinner companionship but also a neglecting of emails and scheduled reminders for the following day's dinner plans).

But all was not lost. I salvaged our appearance at the latest WDA ("Weekend Dining Association") by suggesting a dessertly follow-up to the Ten Feet Tall meal at the ever-popular and insanely-busy Future Bakery on Bloor. All were in agreement, and thankfully I remembered our second instance of dinner plans for that evening. Much tomfoolery and grandoisly comedic conversation was had, including the resurgance of Antonio Banderas-via-SNL impersonations and the further development of what's sure to be the first smash-hit GTABloggers sit-com (which includes a monkey in a diaper who smokes cigars and has an Austrian accent).

Following the disbanding of the WDA at 11:30 Emma got a call to go out to an ever alternating destination. The ever-so-tempting offer was finalized as something to the effect of "come to this guy's place, we're going to be banging on a drum, and we're already drunk". Umm, have fun, honey.

I don't know when "the party" got rudely ejected from my mind, but "the party" is dead and it doesn't seem to be coming back any time soon. I guess I just don't feel the need to meet new people, or go drinking the the company of strangers. Or perhaps in just this one instance I was really fucking tired, and I didn't want to go hang out with a group of middle-aged wanna-bes (or has beens or whatever) and get tore-up and make loud percussive noises. We had upstairs neighbours who routinely did that and I didn't particularly like them very much.

So I felt kinda square, wanting to go home, write my review for Thor's Comic Column (see sidebar), maybe listen to that Kid Koala album I picked up and crash out in bed. I think I was much happier doing that instead (actually once Emma recounted her evening, which she admitted "was okay", I was glad I went home).

Sunday I wrote off, attempting to do my taxes, but got stymied on the "marital status" portion (which is, like, question number 1 after writing your name and address). So I didn't get very far, but I did get organized. The Go Team AB had a Paragon City meetup which went better once we decided to just kick ass instead of standing around. Stayed up late to watch the gorgeous Maura Tierney kick some ass on Celebrity Poker, before resigning myself to some delightfully Maura-infused dreams (Newsradio season 1 and 2 on DVD May 24).

And now, Squash soup

Squash soup... roughly...

1 mid-sized butternut squash, peeled and diced
Five mid-sized potatoes, peeled, diced
7 cloves of garlic, (5 minced)
1 large cooking onion, chopped
1 broccoli stalk
3 tbsp olive oil
3 bay leaves
2 tsp dried rosemary
salt and pepper to taste
grated parmesean or romano cheese

1) boil the potatoes in about 5 cups of water with two cloves of garlic and the broccoli stalk
2) meanwhile, heat up the oil in your soup pot (med-high heat) and add the onion and minced garlic. Fry until onion is transparent colour
3) add diced squash to the onions and stir to coat with the oil and fry for a few minutes, stirring frequently
4) when the potatoes are done, remove the broccoli and garlic and drain contents into the soup pot
5) bring to a boil, add rosemary, a little salt and pepper, bay leaves and then reduce to low heat, cover and let simmer for about 30-45 minutes
6) remove bay leaves, mash the contents of the soup and then using a blender, puree the soup gently (so as not to aggitate much of the potato starchiness, I find one or two quick pulses does nicely). With this large of quantity, I suggest having a large bowl handy to stage the blended soup in as it'll take about three or four full blenders to mix it all.
7) add salt and pepper to taste, serve with parmesean or romano cheese on top