R.I.P. Bluntys

My first pair of Blundstones, which I've had since early 2002, kicked the inside of the (waste) bucket today. They've been underperforming for some time (making funny squishy sounds and not really keeping the water out), and the leather around the toe had turned from black-as-my-Christmas-spirit to a tarnished-penny-green colour. They were still ungodly comfortable (the worst of buzz words from "What Not To Wear") despite their faults, but I knew they were done for some time, and had been contemplating a new pair for some time (I did buy a new pair of wedge-toes about 2 years ago, but they've just never fit properly on one foot (the leather just too tight over the arch, and it's yet to stretch out, and they're a little too nice for everyday rugged wear). Some people like sneakers, me, I like my Bluntys... they served me well. But it was today, flipping them over to take a good look at the soles for the first time in ages, only to notice sections of the sole completely worn away... as in not even there. Squish, Squish, Squish. I could no longer in good conscience keep these fading boots on life support anymore. I pulled the plug and binned them with a single tear shed for dramatic effect.

Let's hope the wife got the numerous hints about what I be really wanting for Christmastime. There will be no replacing Bluntys, except that's exactly what I'll be doing, because they're shoes. They don't have feelings, nor can they reciprocate any emotion projected onto them. I've let them go, time for new ones.

Bah. Bahbahbah. Bah!

I've spent dozens of man hours (not all my own, thanks Toast) trying to migrate the RackRaids domain, data, and wordpress application to a new server. It's not been a smooth ride, but the site is up and running, the back-end is *mostly* working (with one exception, better than before) and overall I'm almost at peace with it.

Now the hard part begins. We're looking at adding advertising, both as available and unobtrusive. I also want to tweak the site, making it a little more distinctive, but I'm really not sure what to do yet.

It's been, well, a pain in the ass, but along the way I've octoupled my knowledge of WordPress and how it's put together, and I have to say, while it's not very n00b friendly (like Blogger, LiveJournal or MySpace) it's got it's perks with the whole plug-in bit. I still prefer Movable Type, but I see how interesting WP can be.

Festivus

Oy, the holidays are upon us, but traipsing through the Eaton's Centre yesterday surprisingly wasn't as nightmarish as it could have been. Of course the insipid pop-star X-Mas carols were enough to want to drive an awl through your brain, but other than that, not so bad. I guess everyone's heading down south of the border to shop this year.

The Inconvenience of Life and Death

My grandmother's husband has been suffering from Alzheimer's for a couple years now (probably longer, just steeply degrading a couple years ago though) and it's bean a rough ride for my Gran. Her husband is a sincere, gentle, kind and friendly man, and it's very difficult for those of us that knew him to see him the way he is, where he's barely cognizant of where he is or what's happening exactly most of the time, or even really understanding who in fact we are (although he still always greets family with a huge, wide eyed smile and firmly gripped handshake).

Though, relatively speaking, they've only been together a short time (a year or two shy of 15, I think), he's been wonderful to and for my Grandmother and an unquestionably welcome addition to our family. He's not my grandfather, but like any step-parent that takes an active interest in your life (as a teen he was always asking about my friends and how they were, which I thought was great) and treats their partner divinely, you greet them and love them like family. I haven't been home much to witness the decline, only having a very detached third-hand relation for most of it. When I have gone home, it was exception hard to see him reduced to what he is, and just as difficult to see the toll it's taken on my Gran. She's always been a tiny woman, but it's only after the past couple years that she's looked fragile. She's invested so much into keeping his quality of life as good as possible, to her own detriment I think... sometimes taking on more than she can handle. But, although hard to acknowledge, there's a strength in her actions, a proof of how strongly she responds to him being in her life, and a love like that is so rare.

The disease makes us so uncomfortable, though, because even more so than death, when you meet someone who's become such a void like that, you can't help but think of yourself in a similar condition, and it's like the same nihilism that terrifies people about zombie movies, basically having no control, and a diminished consciousness. Most of us, confronted with the thought, have said it's probably better to be dead than to have that happen to us. (Roger Ebert reviewed the Japanese film Memories of Tomorrow which follows from the perspective of the afflicted character as the disease starts to take hold, and it sounds depressingly relevant to understanding the condition and how we look at it).

He's taken a turn for the worse, in the hospital, now having contracted pneumonia, which is quite lethal for someone in his condition. It's a real topsy-turvy bag of emotions associated with the news. We who knew him have missed him for some time, none more so than my Grandmother who had the hardest time accepting his condition, but after a while we've come to understand that the physical shell is no longer the man, and have had no choice but to begrudgingly accept that awful fate. But, I don't want him to die, no matter how much I've accepted his fate, and yet, how good is his life right now? What purpose or reason does he serve? How will him living continue to affect my Grandmother? How will his death affect her? So many decidedly pointed and difficult questions with no answers. He could die tomorrow, or he could shake the pneumonia and live for years more, or he could live until Christmas. There's no telling, and, depressingly, no scenario is a good scenario.

It's all just bitterly awful, and there's nothing nice in any of it. For me, at the busiest time of year (personally and professionally, with more things seemingly piling up every day) it's inconvenient, which is a horrible thing to say... but it's the truth, the inconvenience of death. I've made people aware that I may have to leave suddenly, but it's horrible, because I just don't know when and any frustration with not knowing point blankly makes me feel like an awful person. All I do know is that when it happens I have to go, out of no familial pressure or any of that but for my own peace.

Regardless, though, life moves on.

Something else

On other things:
Glenn Kenny of Premiere magazine tries to explain away the ending of No Country For Old Men.

Morning Schadenfreude

Aden and I have been very diligent about walking to the subway every morning for our commute downtown to work. It's about a 20 minute, 1.5 KM walk which, I can tell you, is much better than standing around waiting for the Sheppard bus, which can often take about 15 to 20 minutes, be jam packed with high school kids and generally an uncomfortable ride (and in the looming winter, it'll be better to be moving than standing still).

We walk along the residential streets, crossing one major street (Wilson Heights Blvd.) along the way. At the traffic lights of the intersection of this major street and the residential street, there are signs posted permitting no turning or straight through traffic from the major to the residential street from 7am to 10am. I noticed these signs back in late spring and also noticed a high number drivers ignored the signs. There are quite a few schools in the area, so there's a lot of parents taking the road to drop their kids off, as well, the street bridges the gap between Wilson Heights and Bathurst street, which makes it an attractive alternative to the often backed-up Sheppard Ave. But I imagine the "no turn" signs are intended as a traffic calming measure in the neighbourhood, and they weren't working. Until recently.

Okay, they're still not working, only now there's a police officer (or two) stationed about a half-block in on the street pulling over the bulk of motorists who decide to ignore the signage. Aden and I take great pleasure every morning walking past the row of cars the cops have pulled over and are giving tickets to, and then stopping (and usually waiting) at the lights at Wilson Heights keeping a eye out for any other traffic that decides to turn down the street, and keenly observing whether they get busted or if the cops are already too busy to pull more over.

It brings us great joy, this misery of others. It's a great start to my day, I must say. I think the highlight was the one day a short bus full of children was pulled over, I imagine much to the delight of the kids inside. Another day a mini van was pulled over and the mother had her three kids scramble out of the car and make their way to school on foot, as she was fourth in line to be served her ticket. Today a man in an Audi (or Lexus maybe) was pulled over and got out of his car and proceeded to debate with the cop about why he got pulled over. A few vehicles behind him, a Puralator van.

When we were standing at the Wilson Blvd. lights, I noticed two Bell Canada vans in the left turning lane waiting to turn onto the residential street. I was smiling because I knew these guys were going to get busted but I also noticed the front driver having a look around. When he looked at me I smiled and pointed up towards the sign and then indicated he should drive straight through. At first he was a little annoyed, as if to say, "whatever, it's just a sign" but then I think he caught sight the officers down the block walking between their pullovers. A third Bell van, unable to see down the road, was confused as to why the two vans in front of him suddenly turned right instead of left from the left turning lane and he continued on his path, noticing immediately the trap awaiting him and sharply turning into a driveway and turning around before he could get caught.

Yes, this is what makes my day a happy one from the get go.

Sounds like a reality show to me

The power supply on my computer went kaput...
Now there's one single computer serving three people in one household... a laptop that can easily be misplaced or take outside of the residence. Three people each with their own unique reasons for needing it: blogging, posting photos, writing reviews, fantasy sports leagues.
It's a powderkeg waiting to explode.

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.

I'm a bad Aquaman

I was tasked last Tuesday with the job of caring for my co-worker's pet fish, Spike, while she was away... quite a simple task, really... just feed him in the morning and before leaving before the weekend.

No problem. All went according to plan.

Except the part where Spike's all glassy eyed, laying on his side at the bottom of the bowl when I came into work this morning. Oh... oh frig.
*tap tap tap*
*tap tap tap*
I hoped that there was a last gasp in there or something, but no, fishy was bereft of life.

Looking at his bowl, it seemed to me I just didn't feed him enough for his high energetic lifestyle, as all the food was gone from the water's surface. Spike would whip around his bowl in a frenzy for a couple minutes then huddle under his bamboo tree for a nap for a few hours, only to repeat it again a couple times a day. I guess he burnt himself out and starved... oh, the huma... the fishity.

The suggestion to replace him before my co-worker returns was made, but, well, she's not a 5-year-old, she'll know immediately something is amiss... plus I just wouldn't do that to her. Spike had only been with us a little over 3 months... but I guess it was his time to go.
That or I killed him.
Frown.

News of sorts

Revue Cinema Open House This Weekend!

August 11th from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Be one of the first people in your neighbourhood to visit your old friend, The Revue. there will be popcorn, drinks, prizes, ice cream and lots more.
400 Roncesvalles Ave. 5 minute walk south of Dundas W station. For more information, to get involved, or to donate, please visit RevueCinema.ca

The Spa Treatment

Mon ami, la FreakGirl, est ouvrir un spa:
Holistic Facial & Massage -- Approximately 1 hour (usually a little longer), $35.00
Reiki - Approximately 1 hour - $35.00

Contact Joan via The Faery's Tub (and buy some lovely bath products whilst there)

Hair club 4 men

So the boil rapidly depleted after the first day of antibiotics and has been not so much a nuisance anymore. Of course, I couldn't stick to my 4-pills-a-day regimen on the long weekend even if my life had depended on it... but I'm back on schedule now. The skin around the area is drying out too, which makes it itchy, so it's slightly unpleasant but I manage to ignore it.

Unfortunately, all the hair has started to fall out of the spot where the boil was. It's not quite a visible bald patch (yet) but yea, there's nothing more distressing than clumps of hair coming off in your hand. Oh well, fingers crossed at it growing back.

Concentration shot

Really can't focus today.

In from Amazon:

The Super Friends: The Legendary Super Powers Show - this was the mid-1980's version of the Super Friends show that they spun a wicked toy line out of. The voice actor who plays Darkseid used the exact same voice for Dr. Claw in Inspector Gadget so it's kind of silly. I haven't seen this show literally since I was 8, so I'm really looking forward to having my memories tarnished. Hopefully there's special features containing the classic "You Decide" action figure commercials.

Harvey Birdman: Attorney At Law Season 3 - more goofy, rapid-fire, kitschy cartoon courtroom inaneness from the cat with the beak.

The Tick vs. Season 2 - Another full season of Tick, less an episode. Never watched these when they were first on, so I'm still catching up on all of the references used by friends.

Grrr. Argh.

Part of my job requires me to deposit our software in Escrow on the clients behalf. I have many annoying aspects to my job but this one is easily the cake taker, as it's incredibly time intensive, kind of tedious and just nuanced enough that you actually have to pay attention to what you're doing. When I prep the deposit, I encrypt the software before burning it to DVD. The burning process on the 30+ DVDs takes about 2 - 3 business days to do. A few days ago I discovered that the decryption key for each of the files I included on the dvd was missing, and no matter where I (or IT) looked I couldn't find them. The end result is 30+ destroyed DVDs in the wastebin pictured below. It's kind of pretty if it weren't so pissant annoying.

Cranky the Crane

I've been in a pretty grumpy mood the past two days... but it's not the fault of the Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (which Aden and I watched on Friday taking a lovely day off work to relax, which actually seemed much more like running around to some extent), and it's not the fault of this guy:

because, you know, you can never be mad at a monkey. The work-sponsored Toronto Zoo trip on Saturday was lovely... a long day to be sure, but having never been and previously having some weird moral stance on zoos, I was pleasantly surprised.

It's also not the fault of the swimming pool:

which is up at Aden's Aunt and Uncle's farm, where there were dogs and cats and horses and a swimming pool and the prettiest barbecue I ever done saw, all for the festivities that saw Aden's grandfolks celebrating their 60th anniversary.

No, I'm grumpy because all this passed and I had to go back to work... and I was quite thoroughly (and happily) exhausted from it all, and yeah, going back to a stale office where I've had nothing but hassles from minute one (a large part of that be my demeanour) wasn't exactly my favourite thing in the world, 'specially since the day off on Friday didn't really feel like much of a day off. I'm grumpy because I'm still coughing up my lungs, although that's a more dramatic spin on it, but rather I'm coughing up phlegm that's draining from my sinuses into my throat which is a weirdly circular cause and effect as I cough and it shoves it right back up there. Needless to say it's not pleasant. I'm not sick, but rather annoyed... hence my grumpiness. If I've developed allergies, well, I'm not going to be happy joining the Clairitin sect.

So, with all this grumpleupagus attitude, I've been pounding my ears with music and narrowing my vision with a hat.
Yes, a hat.

I don't wear hats with any frequency and the last hat that actually had a beak on it I likely owned in high school. But with the attitude now comes the hat (purchased at the Superstore on Saturday for $4.95). And, apparently, the Fidel Castro look-a-like competition prize.

Thanks for the lid, Art.

reverse crank

stuff of making me less cranky:
1. Aden's hugs
2. the wee one's boisterous rendition of Oh Canada
3. The Princess Bride (novel, not movie)
4. Mythbusters
5. the freak girl and her 'sTub products
6. Filthy Rich Kids
7. being able to legitimately use the line "he's a good man, and thorough"

Downsizing my wallet

I did, I did.
I downsized my wallet.
Normally when I do this, it's either getting rid of all the loose papers stuffed in it, which are comprised of a) money [rarely], b) post-it notes, c) cash machine receipts, d) general shopping receipts, e) medical prescriptions long left unfulfilled, or d) business cards. So usually when I "downsize" it's really "rightsizing", returning it to its natural state of being. And yet, it always felt so thick in my back pocket.

I'd been told years ago that carrying your wallet in your back pocket wasn't healthy for your posture or your back, and occasionally I'd try and stuff my wallet up front, but looking down from above it just made my thighs look like Torgo. This wallet of mine, which I had for an unrememberable (not a word) number of years, is a tri-fold wallet, and it was a lot smaller and daintier than the one I had previous to it (which I can't even recall anymore, it's been that long) but over the years it's felt more bulky than before.

A few months back, during a lunchtime conversation, a coworker said he's gone for the minimalist approach. A small little fold to put some money in and the cards he knows he's going to need that day. Nothing extravagant, nothing fancy, simplicity itself that fits in his pocket. As my posture has been on my mind lately, due to neck troubles, I've been thinking more and more about this minimalist approach, and so for the past 2 months I've been on the prowl, if not exactly a hunt. Let me say, minimalist wallets aren't exactly easy to come by. Men's wallets these days seem like pocket-purses meant to hold everything from money to lip balm, spare change to memory cards. Um...ugh

The only thing that came close to what I was looking for was a wallet at the Gap, part of their "RED" line for AIDS in Africa charity (or something). The wallet itself was monstrous, but what it had was a zip-in middle section which held 3 cards on one side, photo id on the other, and money in between. Brilliant... but to get it I'd have to buy this behemoth of a canvas wallet for $80, just for 1/3 of the object. Erm, no.

It was Wednesday when I stepped into the new Roots store on Queen after the regular New Comic Book Day jaunt (the store was right beside the Silver Snail) and I spotted the little darling. A duo-fold leatherette that allowed for 5 cards, 1 photo id and two pockets for bills. Tiny, simple, perfect, and with a $5 off coupon from the movie theatre, $23.

I set to work immediately in transferring, and in the process deciding how minimal I could live my life. Do I really need 2 credit cards on me? Nope, just one will do. Do I really need my SIN card? No. How about various "membership" cards... well, most of those places can look you up on their computers, and for those that don't keep close track, I just wrote down all the relevant details on a small post-it and stuck it inside (cutting down the need for 5 cards!).

So what I have now is this: my insurance card (in case I get hit by a car), my 2 bank cards (even though one only gets regular use), one credit card, a gift card, driver's license and my health card. Bare essentials, and that gift card ain't going to be around long. I don't need anything more than that in my wallet, and with its compressed size, I won't be able to accumulate clutter in it. It fits nicely in my front pocket and it's no thicker than my cel-phone, and only a 1/2 inch wider.

Now to get my seated posture back in alignment.

Blowout

On the bike ride to work from my place yesterday Aden blew out her back tire. She didn't really notice at first, making it the remaining dozen blocks to the office when I posed her the backhanded "What happened? You're not usually that slow" (in jest of course). I said we'd pick up a new tube from one of the local shoppes at lunch and fix it up before we biked to her place after work.

Now, before lunch I realized my 2-day video rental from Queen Vid was due, and I forgot to bring it with me, as well, I realized I didn't have the proper tools to repair the tire in my bag, having seen them in the loft on Monday (stating to myself at the time "I should really put those in my bag").

I left for lunch a little early, made the jaunt back home and then back to work (collecting not just the tire tools and the dvd, but also my cel-phone charger, my camera, soap and shampoo for the shower at work and a couple other things, all stuffed in my jacket pockets). Total time about 25 minutes. We roamed over to Urbane, her (thankfully) quick release back wheel in tow (so that we could make sure we get the proper tube) and then sauntered over to the Sandwich Box (I need to do a post on the local lunchtime haunts) for, well, a gourmet sammich, to the Silver Snail for NCBD ("new comic book day", every Wednesday), to the bank for money for my massage, and then to Queen Vid to give back the renter. A full lunch "hour" indeed.

I quickly ate my sammich, had my massage (very productive, with three more sessions to come in April for some more neck healing) and went back to a slow but productive remainder of work day. After changing into my cycling gear (which is mostly my running gear, but I digress) I repaired Aden's tire before we left, making a mess of my hands but having a nice new fully inflated rear tire for her to ride home with (an important meeting awaiting her 2 hours down the road, the bike ride eating at least an hour of that).

We made it a long way up hill and were hitting the planes of Avenue Road when the sound of gunfire rang out and immediately Aden's back tire went flat. Curses. We sauntered up the road, just past Eglinton, and in my chivalry, I offered her my bike to get her to her meeting on time while I walked her bike up to a bike shoppe (Spokes?) near the end of Avenue. As I walked I noticed something, and remembered something else...

...I had forgot to check the tire to see what had punctured the tube in the morning (d'oh). I found a staple, sticking in the side. From best guess the staple was struck by her brakes when applied and in both cases it took a while but eventually it punctured the tube. Sigh.

35 minutes (maybe more) later and I was at Spokes(?) and bought a new tube (plus backups, thank you) and replaced the tube again, carefully inspecting the tire to ensure that nothing else was going to puncture. I got to Aden's place safe... tired but safe. Along the way I realized that Avenue buses have the bike rack up front, unfortunately by the time I found that out I was already near the bike shoppe. Good to know if it happens again, though.

Biking down this morning, we mercifully had no incident.

Bad mojo

There's some bad mojo jojo going on out there today folks. It may look sunny and warm in Toronto but there's some bad shit going down.

I got a feeling.

It's like there's a breach in the Hellmouth.

Saturday dog sit

Okay, my sister went to Whistler (the place) to ski earlier this week. She left Whistler (her dog) with friends of hers, but they were going away on Saturday. So, since my sister was in Whistler (the place), Whistler (the dog) had no one to look after him for the day. Not only that, but her friends had their own dog, Misty, who needed looking after. Uncle Graiggy to the rescue.

When I got there, Whistler (the dog) pounced on me, putting his front paws on my shoulders and pushing me down the stairs a couple of times. That dog loves me, he loves me so much! Misty is a stand-offish dog, but she warmed to me fairly quickly (especially once she realized I controlled the food). The two of them are very cute together, although Whistler (the dog), since he's bigger, kinda railroads Misty and takes things out of her mouth.

My sister's friends also have a cat, Bailey (I also once had a cat named Bailey), and this cat is beautiful... so calm, so affectionate, so soft and petable (I know many cat's are, but if you've been dealing only with Aden's brother's cat for as long as I have, you forget that all felines aren't completely schizo).

Anyway, the pups were fun, if demanding at times, and the cat was quite easy to care for. Whenever Iet Whistler (the dog) and Misty out back, they would aggressively play with one another for a half hour, easy. I left them to their own devices at times only to return and find Whistler (the dog) desperately attempting to copulate with Misty, who looked apathetic, if not outright bored of the whole situation. "What are you kids up to," I said, sliding the glass door back, and Whistler (the dog) looked pretty embarrassed. Misty just trotted into the house like nothing had happened. Hopefully it doesn't change their friendship.

I sent this photo to Whistler (the place) for my sister to see:

and here's Bailey, the sweetest cat of all.

Why aren't you at your post

I was just the 52,901st customer of the Flavia machine on the 5th floor. Nearly 53,000 of these stupid little drink packages have wound up in the landfill from this one machine alone. Progress is bitter, unless you add sugar, and cream, and then stir it, with a little plastic stir stick.

Clothes only fit when you're fat

In the opposite of ladies fashion where the clothes are made for slim, thirteen-year-old gangly boy shaped, breastless women, men's fashion seems geared towards the pot and/or beer-bellied gentleman, if not the outright girthy. The roommate has a GQ magazine from months' past (with Jake Gyllenhaal looking so sexy and bored on the cover) resting beside the upstairs komode, and within its pages, amongst the scratch and sniff ads for liquor and past the awesome interview with Sarah Silverman (Jimmy Kimmel, you're a lucky dude, but then so am I so what of it), there's an article which isn't so much an "article" as four pages of photographs of a dude with different button-down, long-sleeve shirts on: kinda casual, kinda dressy. Anyway, the point of this photo-essay is to alert men ("metrosexuals") to the nasty appearance of their button-downs when tucked in. Most shirts offer too much room, thus poofing or bunching around the waist and making the slim look... not so slim.

This I too have noticed and am also not a fan of. Button-down shirts, the more affordable ones which I appear to come across, seem made for the gutted, the type of man who Borat would find himself wrestling naked with, the kind of man whose stomach drapes over his privates. If I take some of my shirts - the one's whose label states "medium" (yes, fashionistas, my tags generally don't state the collar size) - and I put them on and button them up, I can usually grab the bottom button and pull it a good 6 to 8 inches away from my belly button. This is not a shirt that fits me. Oh, it's square enough on my shoulders, but it's meant for someone with more notches on his belt buckle (and I'm not talking sexual conquests... perhaps kegger conquests, yes).

So far I've not found a lot of "slim fit" clothing. H&M has a good selection of leaner wardrobe fodder, with "slim fit" specifically labelled on the tag, as does Point Zero (but there's less of this going around). I'm interested to hear of any other chains or boutiques in Toronto that have shirts which cater to the slim-fitted gentleperson, ones that are wash and wear and also won't break your wallet.

Gitcher groove on

Speaking of H&M... I resisted going there for a while, but now I am a devotee, if for one reason only: underwear. H&M have the perfect boxer-brief, made of 95% cotton, 5% lycra, it has a bounceback factor which doesn't lose it shape like FOTL or other department store brands. And it has a comfort zone up front (I dubbed it the "cock pocket") which keeps the boys front and center, snugly resting like a banana arching over two apples. I love these things, they fit well, they look good, and they feel good.

(And yes, Joany, I did buy a pair of the Superman undies (aka Underoos for Adults) that you alerted me to, unfortunately the briefs have a tendency to ride up and I wasn't as keen on the design on the boxer-briefs.)

Less miserable than yesterday I imagine

Oooh, I didn't like yesterday very much at all, no-ho, uh uh.
I was tired. Not certain why because I've been going to bed much earlier than I ever have (but also getting up earlier as well), but tired I was, and cranky... a total Grumpleupagus, a term my friend Ry (to be, finally, discharged from hospital today, hopefully) coined to describe his ex-girlfriend. Think a snippy version of Snuffleupagus and you get the idea. I always think a Grumpleupagus is hairy like Snuffy, but purple like Grimace, for some reason. And Grimace is weird, because to grimace kind of strikes me as a reflex-like action in response to something distasteful, like eating McDonalds... it's like wincing (answers.com states: A sharp contortion of the face expressive of pain, contempt, or disgust, which perfectly describes my reaction to the Taint [the Taint is what McDonalds is referred to in Douglas Coupland's book "jPod" and isn't referring, here, to the part between a man's scrotum and the anus, aka the perineum {aren't you learning lots today kids?}, the slang popularized by Mr. Show with Bob and David]). So then why is that purple f*cker so happy? Is it because nothing can kill him?

Ahenneewhay, today is a better day than yesterday, although yesterday wound up being better after work ended for the most part, mostly because work ended. There was a weird 7-streetcar backup on Spadina after work, but the lovely lady and I foraged out to Dufferin Mall where I found me a lovely new jumper and she picked up some gifts for the wee one's 5th birthday (which is coincidentally my father's 57th birthday, and that's kinda awesome). I also found a store which had a reservoir of my favourite headphones (discontinued by Sony two years ago) and so I bought two pair, because I loves them... I loves them so much.

Anyway. Today. Today isn't the greatest day ev'ar, but it's all right, y'dig and I'm enjoying myself, and I think I am liking it so much because it's sunny and the skylight overhead casts a halo-like glow atop of me, signifying my divine providence and establishing my lordship over my workspace domain (what?). Yea. 5 red cars in a row, it's a good day.

Comics. Lunch. Work. Cake.
All is good.

Sometimes a little appreciation is all you need,

Sometimes a little thank you is all you crave,
Sometimes a little reciprocation is what you desire,
Sometimes a little break can keep you sane,
Sometimes the little efforts are what matter most,
Sometimes there's a fog that refuses to lift,
until the work day is over.

Book Report

Book:The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time
Purchased: July 16, 2006
Cost: $19.95
Pages: 226
Start reading date: January 22, 2007
Finished reading: January 29, 2007
Total days taken to read the book: 7
Average reading speed: 32 pg/day

"The Curious "ncident..." is written from the perspective of an autistic 15 year old child. For a very short time it seems like it might be a mystery novel with a rather unusual protagonist as detective, but, by the end of the first 50 pages, the reader realizes that this is a book about autism and how the mind of the individuals who live with it operates, to some degree or another. I imagine there are different severities and that each person is unique. It's a fascinating foray as the narrator bluntly and unapologetically relates his life and his though processes in precise details, and through this character writer Mark Haddon conveys the difficult life of the character's parents and the unintentional humour that someone oblivious of comedy can convey. Engrossing for certain.

weetches teet

Yeah, it's cold, a cold that reminds me of home.
Thunder Bay.
This -14 (-22 with wind chill) was average winter temperature growing up.
I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now.
Waking up to CBC radio and hearing the forecast doesn't make me want to leap out of bed any quicker and make that half hour walk into work.
But, I know from living through these conditions over a much longer period that they are perfectly habitable and you can easily trudge along the sidewalks for a half hour without worry, you just have to bundle up appropriately.
Layers and some winter smart clothing (a hefty scarf, a toque, mitts rather than gloves, boots) are all part of the action. In fact, I was a little too warm with my brisk walk into work this morning (sweating in the cold can be dangerous if you cool down and catch a chill).
I'm not exactly built for this kind of temperature, but I'm certainly not as afraid of it nor as unprepared for it as others I know.
Still, not looking forward to that walk home.

Enunciate

Can anyone tell me what the proper phonetic pronunciation of Mjolnir (aka Thor's hammer) is?

I think it's Mee-yol-neer
But I also prefer to say ig crassly Amerikaner: Mih-johl-ner

fun with real

My brain likes to play with words, often just looking at a sign will send it off on a field trip full of revelry and mental shenanigans. Recently:

On Queen Street sits the "Silver Snail", which is a landmark for any geek visiting the city.
Down the street and around the corner (okay, a couple dozen blocks away) is the nail salon dubbed "Silver Nail"... strange business expansion or mere coincidence?
Meanwhile, I'm thinking of opening a hardware store which also offers comics and manicures and autographed photos of cinematic character actor Ron Silver. It shall be dubbed "Silver's Nails"

Tucked away on McCaul is the costume and dance wardrobe suppliers "Malabar". I was curious what they would think if I opened up a flexible undergarment store called "Malabra". Items for sale would include the moldable brazier, silly putty pasties, the plasticine panty and the gelatinous gitch. Meanwhile, "Malabar" should not be confuse with the booze-'n'-boys funtime place "Malébar". If they were interested in expanding their line of decadent, minimal-use clothing, perhaps they would consider attracting a transvestite crowd with a new wing called "Shemalabar".

Tucked just off of Yonge and Dundas is the great "BMV" ("Books, Magazines, Video" I believe it stands for), which is a refuge for discounted and used comics, books, magazines videotapes and DVDs. Treasures can always be found. Across the street, on Yonge, is "HMV" (which stands for Humvee, I think, but that would be odd considering the lack of city tanks and the plethora of CDs and DVDs). I was considering the possibility of having a whole alphabet of "(blank)MV" storefronts in the area... well, at least enough to close the gap between B and H:

CMV - "Country Music & Video", they pump their audio wares out into the street and have big television displays in their windows. They cause the real estate market in the area to depreciate.
DMV - well, "Department of Motor Vehicles" is an American term (we have the "MTO" - Ministry of Transportation of Ontario" here), but for the purposes of humour, a DMV branch opens here so we can learn to drive like Americans, with their "imperial" system of "Miles" (rather than the proper Metric of Kilo-meters), their fuel gage that goes from "N" to "Y" (rather than our Empty to Full monitors here), and their clocks which tell time using letters instead of numbers.
EMV - "Electro-Magnetic Voles"... very limited use, not likely to survive in the area as high product turnaround is needed to make money and afford the cost of rent. Replaced by "Electro-Magnetic Vulvae" which is a perverted store which you don't want to enter.
FMV - a new radio station on the FM dial...or a video production office of For Him (aka "FHM") Magazine, as they branch out into multimedia
GMV - the "Good Moves" company, perhaps a gym or an erotic dance training school, either case, likely on the second floor in that area.

Items of Annoyance

1) the "Reading" view on MS Word in Office 2003
2) the continually faulty toilet on 5th...
3) Microsoft Internet Exporer.. (the drive my Firefox is on is broke, and no tabs = frustration)

I blame the annoyance of all three on Microsoft

Quick sack of randomness

Buh. Back in my last stretch of single days, which if we're counting was November-ish '05 - July-ish '06, it seemed the weekends were long, and kind of draggy, even if they were busy. Since Aden and I have been together, the weekends never seem long enough, they seem jammed packed and rarely restful, although invariably they are rewarding, fun and usually the best use of a weekend. Still, downtime is needed at some point. Healthy downtime, not this "I'm sick and forced to do nothing" time.

meanwell

I guess I should apologize to those who said that Lost was in a slump this season. I managed to get episodes 1-6 (which are the only episodes of this "season", with the next "season" of 15 episodes running weekly from the first week of February with no repeats) and yeah, they're weak. The first two episodes were fairly strong, but they went sloping after that. It's almost like they writers have forgotten what they're doing. Then again, I recall that I didn't like the original episodes of the second season, but loved the latter bits, so I'll guess we'll just have to wait and see how it all turns out.

cement

The "forgotten" Pavement song:
Land of the Hot Knives

More London

Still planning on discussing and showing photographic documentation of the voyage to London, and soon before my memories get fuzzy (too late)... just not sure when soon. Thanks for expressing interest though....

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.

fun with languages

I love being cc'd on Japanese emails at work, since all I see are "シンプレックステクノロジー　小寺様" except with the occasional dose of english:

"デモライセンスファイルを使用する場合は、ライセンスマネージャを起動することなく、WristWatchを
起動することができますが、本番用のライセンスファイルを使用する場合は、ライセンスマネージャデーモンを
起動し、変数　LEGOLMD_LICENSE_FILE にランセンスファイルのパスを設定する必要があります。
以下の手順で試してみてください。"

I guess I could install the Japanese character recognition software, but what fun is that? This way it's like watching Spanish news, where every so often in a rapid string they'll slow it down for a deliberate enunciation of words like "George Bush".

It's not German

When you scan documents as text, sometimes the character recognition software doesn't properly catch it all or it gets a little confused. So if you try and copy and paste out of a scanned PDF, it sometimes doesn't look right:

"Softwarein productiond, isasterr ecoveryt,e stinga nd developmenet nvironmen"

as opposed to

"Software in production and, disaster recovery, testing and development environments"

I originally thought that I had pasted in some German text, then realized most of the spacing and a few of the characters had screwed up. Heh.

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.

Friday

Current status: Hungry
Other status: Stressed
Other other status: a little sickly, quite frankly... hoping it's from all the dust I kicked up packing yesterday
Status N: neck hurts after freak chair shuffling incident (I shuffled in my chair and threw my neck out...?! Getting old)
Status Z: frickin' sleepy
O status: Ade's birthday. Happy Birthday, beloved. She's already gotten most of her presents (out of print GI Joe box sets). t'other she gets tonight. Thanks to the p-junkie for his assistance.
Move status: mostly packed, about 98%.
Appliance status: a lot of nibbles, no takers so far.
Blog status: it's here, it's queer... apples.

I like mittens.

misheard

Sleeping with the dehumidifier on is damaging my hearing. I'm sure of it. While I love the soothing ambiant noise, I'm finding that I'm mishearing a lot of what people say, and I'm chalking up to that, and not my inordinately low attention span. Like today I heard one friend say to another after a big lunch, "So, you ready for a hot dog sunday?"
I started laughing, a little too hard, repeating "Hot dog sunday. Awesome. How would you make one of those?"
My companions looked at me all crazy-like. "What are you talking about?"
"You said 'Are you ready for a hot dog sunday'."
"No, I said 'hot fudge sunday'. At McDonalds?"
"Oh, well, that makes a little more sense. But you were looking over at the hot dog vendor when you said it so I thought you were making a joke."
"No, but I'm surprised that McD's hasn't started making a patty sunday yet."

And the conversation degenerated from there into a discussion of friends who enjoy the taint, some specifically the McGriddle sammich.

A week later...

My brain hurts.
My body fares a little better.
My cold is practically gone.
The lump on my hand, not so much. The appointment with the specialist lost in the ether somewhere.
I love and am loved.
I have joy but am not without sadness and sorrow, compassion and empathy for the situations that friends and family find themselves in.
Time is at a premium and thoughtspace even moreso. I feel guilty because I'm feeling greedy in keeping a lot of that thoughtspace and time to my own interests. I don't hesitate to let go of some of it, though, if asked or called upon.

I wish I could sell these washing machines dammit.

I'm looking forward to the move being over. Packing is slow goings and frustrating.

I sense a world in flux around me, and yet my head is stable. I'm grounded while surrounded by chaos. For the most part. I could come unhinged at any second, and then you'll see a jaw clenching like none other before.

I thank, much belatedly, J & D for their hospitality this past weekend and for sending me home with many goodies to snack on while packing. My waistband grumbles, but I'm satisfied.

A friend came to town a few weeks ago, I was happy to see her. It had been years.
Other dear friends from back home I shall see this weekend at the airport for a few hours during a layover. I'm excited, as it's been months.
Yet another dear friend is in town the following weekend and I only hope amidst the move and crazy that I get to see her as well... along with the family that also will be in town.
The end of this month/quarter/fiscal year has an odd sense of convergence.

This weekend, the party is in Ottawa. I won't be there but I know many who will.

I have in my posession the unmastered tracks from the upcoming Parkas album. It's so totally kick-your-ass rock. Those who've been to the live show recently should have an inkling of what to expect. Those who've only heard their recorded material... well, you have no idea. But then, I'm really not supposed to talk about it, but it pleases me so... a dozen listens in two days. Yeah. I likes it.

Fatigue setting in.
Rambling fading.
Randomness hard to maintain.

Quad cd samplers are getting out, wave three.

I havn't called my Mom back.
moops.

For Sale

Toronto people, I have 2 apartment-sized washers and one dryer for sale...(click for more)

Hi Toronto Area Folks

As many of you may know, I'm moving at the end of the month, and as many of you also know, moving sucks.
But it'll be worth it because my new place is awesome, and it's fully equipped. So... I won't be needing my washing machines (I have two!) nor my dryer. All are compact/apartment sized

They're for sale.
The Kenmore washer and dryer for $350 for the pair (they're about 10 years old, although I've only had them for 3.5 years) and in good working order. The washer is on wheels so you can manoeuver it towards a sink. The dryer uses a standard household plug, so no additional electrical work need be done.

My beautiful frontloading Maytag 2400AWW is one of the most energy efficient (and water conserving) on the market. It's just over a year old, and still has the remainder of a 5year Brick extended warranty on it. I'm selling this for $725 on Craigslist, but the geekent special knocks $25 off the asking.

If you're interested leave a comment with valid email address. For either you must be willing to pick up the machines (as I don't have any means of getting them to you), Dundas/Bloor area.

Feel free to relay this to anyone you may know.

The Marching Man

Across the street from the office I work at is an apartment building where the curiousity that is everyday life goes on, oblivious to its onlookers. One of the building's tenants steps out onto the balcony and walks in place for about 40 minutes every day. It's actually more of a shuffle than a walk, kind of a march but not really a shamble. It's very peculiar and kind of mesmerising.

Cliche, but new to me

I've never actually seen someone literally jump for joy before... until now. My coworker is very happy that ...whatever the hells she's working on is working or fixed or whatever the problem was. Arms flailingin circles, legs bending at the knees... she jumped four, maybe five times... crazytown.

HaHAH! ellipses.

She was Star Sapphire, but also the Predator

Ever since Jeremy became my roommate, he's had this weird but totally hysterical (ie. played for laughs) inferiority complex... at first he was afraid of being Chandler to my Joey, stating that I'd be bringing home ladies all the time and that he'd have to deal with necktie-on-the-door syndrome or something. Then he read Showcase Presents: Green Lantern which reprints in a 500 page tome a whack of the early adventures of the Silver Age Green Lantern and for some reason, I became Hal Jordan, and Rooms started calling himself Pieface, Hal Jordan/Green Lantern's Eskimo sidekick with the politically-incorrect nickname, aka Thomas Kalmaku... and since then he's called any girl I have a passing interest in "Carol Ferris", who was Hal Jordan's girlfriend, and his boss, and, at times his nemesis, the evil Star Sapphire (and later a gender-switched "The Predator") which when you think about it is pretty messed up with so many subtexts that make my brain hurt.
Silver Aged comics are whacked.
But then, blue blazes, so is my roommate, but both in a good way.

And rooms, I rely on you for protection, with your new baton twirling skills and your adept Nerf gun-fu... you're the star, not the sidekick...or perhaps we're a team-up book, like Power Man and Iron Fist. Sweet Christmas!

Apocalypse '91

A loud crack is followed by a rumble that vibrates the building. My coworker and I perk up, a little curious as to the noise and sensation. Thunder? It happens again.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.
"Yup," I said, looking back at her.
"Was that thunder?"
"Nope, not thunder. Something outside, like something hit the building."
"A bomb!" A fleeting expression of shock and worry flicker across her face.
I laugh, "No, not a bomb."
My laugh makes her realize how silly of a conclusion it was. She laughs too, and gets a little embarassed.
"My friend, you're thinking like an American."

Turned out to be a beer delivery van hopping the curb beside the building.

027272.7

The amount of KM on the odometer of Carla's rental van when we stopped to gas up.

Tharsisica

Free-form blogpost. Stream-of-consciousness-like.

I'm often what they ("they" being nobody in particular) call a "perpetual thinker" (okay, I doubt the non-existant "they" actually call anyone that, but stick with me here). My brain is constantly engaged, rarely ever shutting down. I'm often thinking so many thoughts I'd rather not think that I wish sometimes I were a tad simpler so I could find enjoyment in dormancy, alas it is not to be. So when my mind is kicked in full gear, thinking about girls and music and comics and work and bills and a few dozen other things that constantly niggle away (I was checking to make sure I was using "niggle" in the right context and answers.com asked me "Or did you mean: niggardly" - with lack of question mark, no less - to wit I most certainly did not!) it often creates a very distracted and extremely restless me. I don't remember the last time I had a really good, full night's sleep. When I was in Windsor two weekends back, I was able to escape much of my routine life and also sleep in a house with air conditioning, so I did get a better sleep, comparatively, but still not a good sleep. Two of the big things that have been taxing my brain was a quandry about love and the other, oddly enough, was The Futureheads (see sidebar review). I know it's weird to exhaust so much thought on a band, especially considering it really wasn't me thinking about the band, but rather just being unable to get their songs out of my head. It was odd how often the chorus to "Fallout" would push every other thought aside for tens of minutes ("After days in the dark/The light broke through/And it was beautiful to see you/And sit in the warmth with you"), or to sort of enter a fugue state with the chorus from "Favours For Favours" ("But there's something that you do/I just can't help myself/and I wish that I could move more in time with you/I watch you step and I watch you turn/I watch you move like a knife in the water/As you move across the floor/Over to me/For all to see") only to snap out of it and find I've been staring blankly at my monitor at work for an undetermined period of time. It's really mildly insane how fixated I became with the Futureheads recently, so last night was the climax of this whole build-up, and mercifully it did the trick. I slept last night free of thoughts of sound, instead dreaming of... well, i dunno, bunnies and Wonder Woman or something. I don't remember. The night before, however, I dreamt that a friend had turned into a demon, so I asked her if she is now or has ever been a demon. Peanut butter before bed will do that to you. So anyway, one major distractor resolved, and the other is resolving itself in a happiest circumstances as well so now my thoughts are less cumbersome. Well, Rooms and I are now in the apartment hunting market after the neighbours said that they're not moving for another year and are likely selling the house, so that one other worry off my brain but a whole new one on it. And I'm trying to figure out what's happened to my initiative and motivation, as it seems like all my little projects are nagging my brain and yet the rest of me can't be bothered to deal with them. This post is disjointed, like Ragdoll in Secret Six. I've also lost weight, which isn't good, considering I'm now on the 100lb dare-to-be-Wolverine thing. I've toned up quite a bit, which is nice, but dropping a belt size wasn't part of the deal. ("Everything was ready but he had to run away/Shot for the money on the very same day/ Le Garage/ Le Garage-rage"... I don't even understand what that means). VAAAH.
Anyway, this kind of ramble randomness is tiring and I'm hot and sweaty in the priests collar. I think I shall read some comics.

also

I realized this morning that for the past four days I'd been refreshing the Weather Network webpage for Stratford, Ontario, rather than Toronto (I went to Stratford on Sunday, see, and it was delightful... I have a fun idea for adapting Coriolanus to modern times... plus, Colm Feore).

oh and...

I think I finally figured out what that wonky smell is in the basement sometimes... it's the ages old dehumidifier (that overflowed this morning, by the way, since the duct-tape floater-thingy ain't working none good so much anymore) overheating or something. Maybe. Good to know at least.

...

If the kitchen smells like hummus, that's 'cause I made hummus. Help yourself, there's lots there. It's kinda tahini heavy.

...feh

I really thought I'd enjoy this rhubarb-ginger jam, but, you know, not so much.

One to grow on

Back when I was on the 6th floor at work I was one of two fire wardens for the floor, which means I had a shiny red helmet and a yellow rubber flashlight, and when a fire bell rang I would put on the hat and start yelling at people to stay calm and get out of the office in an orderly fashion as well as make sure no one is in the bathrooms. Well, I'm on the fifth floor now and they already have fire wardens, but they havn't yet replaced me on the 6th (I always leave large shoes to fill... clown shoes perhaps?). We're having a fire drill today, and I've been asked to sub for the non-existant 6th floor wardens. This means when the bell goes off I need to run up the stairs and direct the monkeys safely out of the building. I'll do it all proper-like, but if there was a hope in hell that even a fraction of the finance and HR people would get it, I'd go bolting up the stairs screaming "PORKCHOP SANDWICHES!"

Dear Heat: A haiku

We want you no more
You can leave any time now
[I miss my sweaters]

Hi, I'm not Troy McClure

A coworker left me with her betta fish while she's on holiday this week for light care and feeding duties. I've been a rather pesky host, tormentin with my pen, which I guess from his perspective looks like another fish…I thought his flaring of gills and agitated swimming was just an aggressive stance, like he was going to fight the pen or some such (as betta fish like to fight I've been told). That's bad enough on its own, I know, but I was asked this morning "what's up with all those bubbles at the top of his bowl?" I didn't know so I looked it up. Turns out "in the wild, male betta fish make these lovely bubble nests and then when a female comes along, there’s a tribal dance routine with a lot of flashing of his fins and when she’s suitably impressed, she will spawn and he will fertilise the eggs as they are laid." (source)

Oh my god, I've been sexually harassing her fish!
I feel… dirty.

At the optometrist

he - "There's still some scarring from the incision, but it's healing rather well. Better than normal, actually. Usually I'm seeing this kind of reduced scarring after two or two and a half years, and you're only one and a half since surgery, so you're healing above average."

me - "woohoo, above average. I'm never above average. Strive for mediocrity, I always say, that way you're rarely disappointed."

---

me - "I thought you were going to dialate my pupils today."

him - "No, not today, but next time. We don't need to see you for another year though... unless you get hit in the eye at which point come see me right away."

Hit in the eye? I hadn't even though of it, and now I'm a little paranoid about it...

---

All told I was at the office for less than 20 minutes. My actual time with the optometrist was about 6 minutes. It cost me roughly $80 for the visit. Wow... I should have been an optometrist.

Rovers

When biking along Dundas West in the evening when there's less traffic and less noise and as the streetcars barrel down behind you, they make a roar that sounds like the Rovers from The Prisoner. Only think is, if these Rovers catch up to you, you're not going to get enveloped in a plastic bubble, but rather your entrails will smear along the asphalt.

(not) For The Ladies (at all)

I found Jesus, but left him where he was. Dude's a mess. I would say he's beyond redemption but, you know, son of God and all, he's probably not. Twinkies, man. That much junk'd kill a lesser man.

FURBAR

A list of "to do" reviews sits before me. Yup, I'm in backlog mode again. My weekends are filling up rapidly and my energy levels are depleting (I'm cutting regular alcohol consumption out of my diet for the next little while to hopefully recharge). In a monsterous fit of impromptuitivity last Tuesday (fake word!) I picked up the 5-for-a-week movie deal from my local haunt, which I obviously didn't think through since I knew at the time that Thursday through Sunday were plugged and Tuesday night (aka tonight) is one of those "stay at work until the concert at the Horseshoe begins" kind of evenings (meaning I won't be around to watch/return the movies). I manages to run through three of the films before GAK arrived Thursday evening, and I had a portion of Monday afternoon free between GAK leaving and out to a screening of "Superman Returns" (which puts me two back in the "in theatre" review category). There was still one film left - the one I was most excited to watch - and it had to be returned in the morning before I went to work.

So at 12:30 last night I started watching "Shall We Dance" (the orginal Japanese version thank you. Richard Gere shall not infest my home), which got JMac's highest recommendation. I wasn't sure what I was expecting... something along the lines of a romance movie but not-saccharine chick-flick, and it definitely wasn't either. Comedy-drama, perhaps. Anyway, I watched the first half until nearly 2am, waking up just after 7 this morning to finish it off, and not sleeping very well (again) in-between (the usual drone of the dehumidifier is actually now more disturbing than soothing, for I fear the constant hum is damaging my hearing...I may need to shut it off while sleeping, but chances are I'm just being paranoid). So yeah, today... to day is a completely slow brain day.

Another concert tonight puts me two reviews behind in that category, and some pictures will need to be uploaded tonight or more likely tomorrow. My enthusiasm for taking snaps is on the wane, again, which is no great surprise, considering the massive lenses I see the other bloggers trucking out at shows and comparing it to, in essence, my rinky-dink toy. Plus, my no flash policy is making for some gritty pictures.

Emails need writing (my best amigo sent a grand and massive note from the hospital on Friday which I feel like a shit for not yet returning), phone calls to be made, cars to reserve and flights to book. Oh, yeah, and work. Got to work.

Summer wind

I'm not the biggest fan of summer, and mostly it has to do with fashion. Oh, don't get me wrong, I like looking at the lovely ladies in their skin-exposing, angel-hair strapped tank tops and short shorts as much as the next guy and/or girl, but at the same time there's such a thing as an overdose of skin. After a while it all just becomes a blur of flesh, and if you've ever seen the Blob remake, you know how gnarly it can be.

I've talked previously about how much I like watching the ladies in the winter even more than summer... and I'm missing the flirt of layers and accessories already amidst the glut of capris and flip-flops. What's more is I'm lamenting the fact that winter pretty much segued right into summer this year (well, winter barely left fall conditions behind which I didn't complain all that much about) so we didn't have a lot of nice long-sleeve/light jacket fare before the heat took over.

I've also talked about my hirsuteness previously, and while I am comfortable enough with it to not worry so much about it, it certainly comes more into play in the summer as I recognize that I don't find body hair all that attractive and that others are privy to the same response. I mean, I don't wan't to see some hairy Grecian guy's back and chest hair poking out of a mesh wife-beater, so why should I - though remarkably less hairy than most "bear" standards - do the same? Comfort? "Comfortable" rarely accompanies "attractive".

Anyway, my biggest problem is shorts. I hate shorts, mainly because I've only ever found three, perhaps four pairs of shorts in my life that I actually felt comfortable wearing in public (in a non-fitness/sport capacity). Whether it be fit, length, style or what have you, I don't like them, and I don't know how to dress them up (what goes with sandal, hairy leg, and short?) and I'm really trying to avoid a summer of shorts'n't-shirts (although I spied a gaggle of DC Comics inspired tees in a Queen Street storefront today which had me jumping a little). I've gotten to like the whole fall/winter layering effect, accessorizing with a tie, and other tips that my friend and fashion guru has bestowed upon me, applying them with my own irreverant(/ignorant) sensibility... but the rules don't apply in summer when staying cool and being cool really kind of clash.

We've had consistantly ugly hot weather for two months now, and I've yet to wear a pair of shorts (with the exception of when I've gone runnng). And all too often I'll misjudge how hot the temperature is (as per the Weather Network) and overdress for my working day, suffering for it. I'm not a big fan of the sweating in public.

Also, it's dawned upon me that all my sandals are missing, and I recall having pitched them after the flood, which means that I'm stuck in socks'n'shoes land (and you know, I've never figured out how that whole socks'n'shoes'n'shorts thing works, but I've seen people pull it off, but always with big heavy woodland wooly socks... what's the deal there?).

Ah, summer... grrr.

greece's pieces

A new Superman newspaper advertisement has been leaked and it features the MOS bursting out of a page full of reviewer pull quotes. All of the quotes are from easily influenced television or radio station affiliate reviewers... not exactly a ringing endorsement. I fear the films going to be utter pants as is. The ho-hum trailers... all of them... have yet to inspire any excitement, or even really pique my interest. Of course, I will be seeing it... twice probably (the first time I see a big film like this I usually spend my time picking it apart and being over analytical... the second time, when I know what's coming and can actually see if I enjoy it or not).

these days is hawt

The days have been too warm for a Northwestern boy like me... I usually take it in stride but the official sign that it's too warm is cold showers in the morning (and nothing to do with an unfulfilling sex life... riiiiight). Normally my showers are hot, and they get progressively hotter as my body adjusts to the heat. I get so warmed up, in fact, that during the winter I wind up sweating while standing outside (thus negating much of the shower's effect). I usually do this in the spring and summer as well, but not this year... I've been treating myself to that stunning cold water shower. You know what I'm talking about, when the temperature differential is such a shock to your system that suddenly you're gasping for air like your lungs have collapsed. Yeah, that kind of ...shrivelling cold. So cold that I'm actually shivering by the time I get out of the shower... which isn't good, because warm house + shivering = rapid warm-up and sweating... which, again, kind of defeats the purpose of the shower.

I need to find the happy medium.
(and not a cheerful fortune teller)

not my idea...

In the latest Thor's Comic Column there's a big promo for a new "reality tv" contest thing called The Comic Book Challenge and they want your ideas, my ideas, all of our ideas. They want us to pitch the ideas and then through popular selection they'll weed their way from 50 down to a winner. I have a killer idea that could quite easily win over the masses of geek culture that would no doubt be voting in this thing, but I won't enter it and I'll tell you why...
It's not worth it.
Even if I won, it's not worth it. Quitting my job would probably be the only option to take the time away to work this contest process and I don't have the cushion to do it. Not only that, even if I did do comics and developed the idea and handed it over to Platnum Studios for film and/or tv production, chances are they'd put me on some sort of committee validation roster and I'd have to comprimise my storytelling to get the thing done and I'd most likely hate the whole procedure. Oh, and then, say I did manage to get the book out there, my cred as a writer would be called into question for YEARS (hell, Mr. Real World Judd Winnick still has his validity called into question) and any popularity would not be based on my talent and any criticism would not be based on my lack thereof... it would be bitch jealousy and that's it.
And say I did manage to get my book published, comics pay shit. There are very few writers of comics out there making a living at doing it. I'd guess it's between one and two hundred that are actually supporting themselves as writers (and usually not just on comics either). Comics earn and pay shit. There's no money in it, and losing a good job to break into an industry where the lifespan of most writers lasts about 10 years anyway... sigh.

I love comics, and I will get around to making my own some day, but throwing away my life right now for what's essentially a glorified colouring contest isn't really a smart path. There's enough other frothing and/or desperate and/or well-off fanboys that can do this. And I guarantee you that the winner's idea isn't nearly as cool as mine.

oh... and...

Toonage is live.
Go read my Parkas interview and DVD feature. They're good.
Also got some cd reviews and a concert review extracted from the sidebar.

I need to have a short bio to appear at the end of my articles... I have three and I'm wondering what the geeKent reader(s?) thinks. VOTE NOW!

Option 1: Graig Kent is a consumer and a reviewer. He reviews what he consumes and he consumes a lot. He routinely blogs at geekent.com in an effort to publicly embarass himself.

Option 3: Graig Kent lives in Toronto, works a regular job, and spends all his money on things he later reviews. You can find out way too much about him at his blog, geekent.com

If you don't like any of these, feel free to write your own... be as kind or mean as you want, just make sure you plug my blog. Oh and on #2, I may actually have over 1000 reviews to my name. I'll take a tally soon. I've been doing this review thing for 9 years now (whee-yow!)

Knob

Because I've been a bit of a dick recently, when Toast posted this introspective and somewhat disarming comment on his current status of being all I could do was make a tired old "mid-life crisis" joke... to wit:

Uh oh... Toast is going to buy a convertible...

I don't actually mean to make fun of Toast's pain, but isn't this what typical guys friends are supposed to do? Aren't we supposed to just deny each other's emotions and rather start poking fun, because acknowledging emotions and showing sympathy is like a sign of being the gay or something. But then Toast and I are sensitive males, and we've had great conversations about life and everything else in the past, so we don't fall into the usual trappings of machismo and whoswhatzis. And I called him a pussy earlier this week too. It was in jest, but perhaps I'm descending into dickishness these days.

My number 1 fan wrote a lovely bit to Toast, saying all that I probably should have said, but then she also says this:

If you got a convertable, I bet Graig would grow his hair out, so that when he got rides with you, he'd have Wolverine hair in minutes flat.

Which makes me laugh... because I've had Wolverine hair. And as penance for my dickishness of late, I'm going to share that photo with you (a little humility never hurts):

Whee-yow.
Taken Halloween 2000. Those claws are made of cork, and they were rubber latexed to my hands, and they're obviously non-retractable, so when I was out I had to drive with them still attached and every time I had to turn the wheel they would snag on the dashboard... and as you may know I'm of a moderate hirsutedness, so each time those claws would snag I'd feel a sharp and painful tug on my hands.
Taking the claws off at the end of the evening... yeah... it took about three to five weeks for the hair to grow back.

Distractinator

You know, it's a good thing we have a goalie with wrecked knee to get all worked up about rather than these alleged terrorist shennanegans. We're so Canadian.

Linkages to occupy your brain and/or time

I have been a Star Wars fan for close to 30 years now. I honestly can't remember a time when I wasn't a fan to some degree or another, and my teens to twenties (upto and including the release of Episode 1) were spent obsess-sess-sessing over all things Star Wars, and really the only reason it stopped was the oversaturation that was the cross-marketing blitz of Ep.1.

So you can imagine with that level of fandom that I'd have seen pretty much all there is to see of Star Wars, especially taking into account that there really wasn't that much output of Star Wars paraphernalia and peripherals once Jedi wrapped. Well, not exactly. Toast pointed me to a YouTube link showing a deleted scene from the original film! Oh. My. God! BIGGS!

The scene on display is one that's familiar to me but only through the late-70's comic adaptation and the novelization, so seeing it in the flesh is a little bit exciting, and a lot surreal. I feel like a fanboy again.

GAK made a comment to me via email saying that there should be more Sci Fi silent movies. I'm inclined to agree.. but then, I havn't watched most of the silent sci-fi films already out there. I think Metropolis is the only one I've seen...

to add to my to watch list:
Aelita: The Revolt of the Robots (dir. Yakov Protazanov)
The Lost World (dir. Harry Hoyt)
A Trip To The Moon/The Impossible Voyage (dir. Georges Melies)
The Airship Destroyer (aka The Battle In The Clouds) (dir. Walter Booth)
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (dir. Fritz Lang)
Homunkulus der Fuhrer (dir Otto Rippert, 6-part serial)
The Madness of Dr. Tube (Abel Gance)

---

For those of us that enjoyed the meeting of the minds that was MF Doom and Danger Mouse (together: DangerDoom) in coordination with the Cartoon Network's Adult Swim to produce "The Mouse and the Mask", Pitchfork announced last week that an ep follow up was coming... for free!
The first track, Korn Dogs, from the ep is up on-line here

In other Adult Swim news... what the frak?
Saved By The Bell is back! And we're not just talking repeats. Apparently Adult Swim has ordered 30 new episodes of the series with most of the original cast returning.
Which horseman was that who just rode by? Famine or Pestilence?

---

Okay, comic talk for a quick second. While Infinite Crisis kinda sucked, I'm really jazzed for the 52-issue mini-series 52. It basically deals with the aftermath, fallout and the repercussions of the Crisis, which, for me, is always the more interesting aspect. As much as I like a good action or disaster story, what's always fascinating is the drama that occurs in the wake.
In addition to the every-7-days schedule of 52, DC has also put up a 52 website with supplimental material. It's a rather disjointed affair, as they attempt to establish it as a "Daily Planet" webpage, but they also can't escape the real-world promotional aspect and so it breaks its own character a little too often. But there's some fun stuff, like printable PDFs and news stories which are sometimes tongue-in-cheek and sometimes in-continuity.
Comic geekstuff over

---

ach... PODCASTS are threatening to take over my life..

CBC Radio podcasts
Adult Swim video podcasts
Mar Sellars' awesome Rock On London podcast
NPR podcasts

Two points

1) Graig is a happy camper...

2) ... even though he's got this tickle in his throat

Quote

Bill Murray: [Coughs] Doc, what could I do for this cough?
RZA: Shit, I was just thinking about that. Check this out: you get some hydrogen peroxide...
Bill Murray: We got that for cuts and stuff.
RZA: ...take fifty percent hydrogen peroxide, fifty percent water. You gargle with it. Do *not* swallow, you spit it out. Don't swallow, Bill Murray.
GZA: And if that doesn't work, try oven cleaner.
Bill Murray: We got that in the back, too.

adage

You know that saying "I know [whatever] like the back of my hand", well, I just noticed scars over both the index and middle knuckle on my left hand. I don't know how they got there, but they've probably been there a while.

Physiquealupdate

On the ride home on Tuesday I noticed that my bike wasn't perhaps as healthy as I'd led myself to believe. With the strong headwind, I needed to upshift, only to find that I couldn't, since it sounded like something winging my spokes if I did. I looked down to notice my derailleur poking into the rear wheel, closer and closer to the spokes the higher I shifted. Um. Oh shit. Well, i thought it would be an easy fix, so I took it to the bike shop and they informed me that, unlike most new bikes, the derailleur was mounted to a bit that was mounted to the frame... non replaceable (not with ease anyway). He said "I can try to bend it back, but it's like a pop can tab, and the more times you bend it back and forth it's eventually going to break off". I told him to give it the ol' College try.
Ten minutes later, he came back. Prognosis was good... all fixed. I paid my $5.75 and was out the door.

Wednesday, I was excessively sore, mostly on the thighs and upper gluts. The soreness only really apeared when I got up from a sitting position or walked up or down stairs. But it didn't hurt at all biking (again, a strong tail wind to work, a heedy headwind going home)... I did a lot of stretching before I took off for run number two, and even still it was like fire.... it took about five minutes to settle into the pace, but when it was all over 25 minutes larter I was barely noticing any soreness. 20 minutes of stretching segued into a hot epson salt bath, and today I'm feeling barely any discomfort.

My thighs are a bit sore, but everything else just feels powerful. This must be what getting into shape feels like.

Daily Gorman

One of my favourite Britons, Dave Gorman (he of "Who Is Dave Gorman" and "Dave Gorman's Googlewhack Adventure" fame) will be on the Daily Show tonight in some capacity. Here is what Mr. Gorman has to say about the occasion:

Basically amongst the reasons I came to New York was to meet up with some people from the Daily Show to discuss some ideas for the future. Now, I love The Daily Show. It's one of my favourite TV shows in the world. In fact, because it's American, I'll even say that it's one of my favorite TV shows in the world.

What I wasn't expecting was to end up appearing on tonight's The Daily Show. Which is what ended up happening. So... if you're in the US of A and it's still Monday when you're reading this, I'm in a small segment of tonight's show.

Good on ya Dave-o

102 must-see movies

a list from Jim Emerson
(click for list) I hit a big 40%

CHECK "2001: A Space Odyssey" (1968) Stanley Kubrick
"The 400 Blows" (1959) Francois Truffaut
"8 1/2" (1963) Federico Fellini
"Aguirre, the Wrath of God" (1972) Werner Herzog
CHECK "Alien" (1979) Ridley Scott
"All About Eve" (1950) Joseph L. Mankiewicz
CHECK "Annie Hall" (1977) Woody Allen
CHECK "Apocalypse Now" (1979) Francis Ford Coppola*
CHECK "Bambi" (1942) Disney
"The Battleship Potemkin" (1925) Sergei Eisenstein
"The Best Years of Our Lives" (1946) William Wyler
"The Big Red One" (1980) Samuel Fuller
"The Bicycle Thief" (1949) Vittorio De Sica
"The Big Sleep" (1946) Howard Hawks
CHECK "Blade Runner" (1982) Ridley Scott
"Blowup" (1966) Michelangelo Antonioni
CHECK "Blue Velvet" (1986) David Lynch
CHECK "Bonnie and Clyde" (1967) Arthur Penn
"Breathless" (1959 Jean-Luc Godard
"Bringing Up Baby" (1938) Howard Hawks
CHECK "Carrie" (1975) Brian DePalma
"Casablanca" (1942) Michael Curtiz
"Un Chien Andalou" (1928) Luis Bunuel & Salvador Dali
"Children of Paradise" / "Les Enfants du Paradis" (1945) Marcel Carne
"Chinatown" (1974) Roman Polanski
"Citizen Kane" (1941) Orson Welles
CHECK "A Clockwork Orange" (1971) Stanley Kubrick
CHECK "The Crying Game" (1992) Neil Jordan
CHECK "The Day the Earth Stood Still" (1951) Robert Wise
"Days of Heaven" (1978) Terence Malick
"Dirty Harry" (1971) Don Siegel
"The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie" (1972) Luis Bunuel
"Do the Right Thing" (1989 Spike Lee
"La Dolce Vita" (1960) Federico Fellini
"Double Indemnity" (1944) Billy Wilder
CHECK "Dr. Strangelove" (1964) Stanley Kubrick
"Duck Soup" (1933) Leo McCarey
CHECK "E.T. -- The Extra-Terrestrial" (1982) Steven Spielberg
"Easy Rider" (1969) Dennis Hopper
CHECK "The Empire Strikes Back" (1980) Irvin Kershner
CHECK "The Exorcist" (1973) William Friedkin
CHECK "Fargo" (1995) Joel & Ethan Coen
CHECK "Fight Club" (1999) David Fincher
CHECK "Frankenstein" (1931) James Whale
"The General" (1927) Buster Keaton & Clyde Bruckman
"The Godfather," "The Godfather, Part II" (1972, 1974) Francis Ford Coppola
"Gone With the Wind" (1939) Victor Fleming
"GoodFellas" (1990) Martin Scorsese
CHECK "The Graduate" (1967) Mike Nichols
CHECK "Halloween" (1978) John Carpenter
"A Hard Day's Night" (1964) Richard Lester
"Intolerance" (1916) D.W. Griffith
"It's a Gift" (1934) Norman Z. McLeod
"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946) Frank Capra
CHECK "Jaws" (1975) Steven Spielberg
"The Lady Eve" (1941) Preston Sturges
CHECK "Lawrence of Arabia" (1962) David Lean
"M" (1931) Fritz Lang
CHECK "Mad Max 2" / "The Road Warrior" (1981) George Miller
"The Maltese Falcon" (1941) John Huston
CHECK "The Manchurian Candidate" (1962) John Frankenheimer
CHECK "Metropolis" (1926) Fritz Lang
"Modern Times" (1936) Charles Chaplin
CHECK "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" (1975) Terry Jones & Terry Gilliam
"Nashville" (1975) Robert Altman
CHECK "The Night of the Hunter" (1955) Charles Laughton
CHECK "Night of the Living Dead" (1968) George Romero
CHECK "North by Northwest" (1959) Alfred Hitchcock
"Nosferatu" (1922) F.W. Murnau
"On the Waterfront" (1954) Elia Kazan
CHECK "Once Upon a Time in the West" (1968) Sergio Leone
"Out of the Past" (1947) Jacques Tournier
"Persona" (1966) Ingmar Bergman
CHECK "Pink Flamingos" (1972) John Waters
CHECK "Psycho" (1960) Alfred Hitchcock
CHECK "Pulp Fiction" (1994) Quentin Tarantino
CHECK "Rashomon" (1950) Akira Kurosawa
CHECK "Rear Window" (1954) Alfred Hitchcock
"Rebel Without a Cause" (1955) Nicholas Ray
"Red River" (1948) Howard Hawks
"Repulsion" (1965) Roman Polanski
"The Rules of the Game" (1939) Jean Renoir
"Scarface" (1932) Howard Hawks
"The Scarlet Empress" (1934) Josef von Sternberg
CHECK "Schindler's List" (1993) Steven Spielberg
"The Searchers" (1956) John Ford
CHECK "The Seven Samurai" (1954) Akira Kurosawa
"Singin' in the Rain" (1952) Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly
CHECK "Some Like It Hot" (1959) Billy Wilder
"A Star Is Born" (1954) George Cukor
"A Streetcar Named Desire" (1951) Elia Kazan
"Sunset Boulevard" (1950) Billy Wilder
"Taxi Driver" (1976) Martin Scorsese
"The Third Man" (1949) Carol Reed
"Tokyo Story" (1953) Yasujiro Ozu
"Touch of Evil" (1958) Orson Welles
"The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" (1948) John Huston
"Trouble in Paradise" (1932) Ernst Lubitsch
CHECK "Vertigo" (1958) Alfred Hitchcock
"West Side Story" (1961) Jerome Robbins/Robert Wise
"The Wild Bunch" (1969) Sam Peckinpah
CHECK "The Wizard of Oz" (1939) Victor Fleming

Cycletube

I say both "Oh hells yes" and "Not a chance in hell" to this wonderful idea of the Velo-city, a raised, contained bike path for all-season biking around Toronto. I love it. It's brilliant. And there's no hope in hell of taxpayers actually saying "yes, let's spend my tax dollars on that... I'd rather have a parade!"

Back from Mt.real, now on Mt.reality.

WIll blog more about the trip tomorrow, but now this walking-weary body and road-weary mind need some desperate rest and relaxation.

Quick summary sans detais as such:

- food (and lots of it)
- walking (equally copious)
- friends (a solid cast of characters)
- faux french (I'm not the most bilingual person)
- grindy grindy grindy grindy (inside joke)
- yak boy (inside joke carried even further)
- velcro (don't ask)
- "stupid montreal" (see Jeremy's blog for more details... eventually)
- photos (to come)
- couche-tard (giggle)
- sleep deprivation (snoring, murmuring, hacking coughs, bunkbeds, rustling)
- pretty architecture
- pretty ladies (grindy grindy grindy grindy)
- pas de Youppi (stupid Montreal)
- climbing Mount Royal (and going down it backwards)
- butterflies and bugs
- Dr. Tran
- Bloodrayne? (don't ask)

... and random other odds and sorts to be detailed when the brain remembers them