I can't even fathom what 'free pictures bear gay roulette' would be. Maybe it's like spin the bottle except it is played by gay bears and instead of kissing they (insert deviant behavior here).

It all starts out innocently. The snow gently starts to fall and the temperature drops below zero, your lips get a little chapped in the outdoors so you put on some chapstick, lypsol or whatever you happen to have. Before you know it your a junkie, just waiting to apply the goo, to feel it's soothing touch on your dry irritated lips. You, are addicted! You need something stronger so you try the medicated stuff and now you can't go back, you can only move on to the harshest substanse known to mankind, Tiger Balm. Then the worst possible thing happens, you loose you lip therapy. Your body starts convulsing from withdrawl. Your lips start to peel, making them look like Angelina Jolie's. Your most comforting friend has left you. What do you do once you have tasted the sweet nectar of addiction?

Yet another slandering of the good Brad name.

My theory on co-op advisors, they must be burn outs or on crack, was verified again yesterday. You would never guess that my new advisor has a masters in science.

I see a potential problem with BlogSnob, depending on your point of view. The premise is that for each ad that your site serves, another site will display an ad about your site. I first thought that this was a cool idea but now I think that it will only help the popular sites become more popular. Some independent site may serve 10 ads and therefore it will get 10 ads in return, but a popular site could serve over a thousand ads in a day and it would recieve a thousand in a day just making it more popular. You could probably even apply the 80/20 rule, 20% of the sites would account for 80% of the ads.

Last night I was rereading Catcher in the Rye and I find that Holden has a slight preoccupation with death; his own and those around him. He is always thinking about his dead brother Allie, and when Holden is drunk he pretends that he has been shot in the stomach and he has to hold his innards in.



Somewhere in reading that my mind drifted out and thought about one of my friends dying. It hasn't happened, but I started thinking about what I would do if it did. How many days would I take off work? I don't think I would even bother finishing the term, but then maybe I would throw myself into my work. How would the deceased's school life and the deceased's family life come together? It would be a weird mix. One group would know so much about the past and the other about the present. Would I say something at the funeral? Probably. It would be something nice with some humour thrown in to cover the pain that everyone would be feeling. I would be pallbearer. I would hold the casket high while wearing an expensive black suit. I would be the strong one.

Why people insist on talking to me in the bathroom is beyond me. It's okay if I am washing my hands or if I am loaded, but any other circumstances freak me out. Yesterday I was minding my own business when some old senile man asked me if I was famous yet. At first I tried to place him, 'old man , yellow wool sweater with reverend quality' but I couldn't, so I filed him under 'old man, yellow wool sweater with psychotic tendencies' and tried to escape as soon as I could.

In high school we had senior skip day, everyone in OAC would get together for a bush party or BBQ. Today must be senior skip day at the office. No one is around, making the silence deafening and the urge to leave over-powering. Who I am to fight it.

Note to Google.ca: Today is not Thanksgiving in Canada, it was last month.

I am not too sure about this whole Secret Santa thing. I have been burned before. In first year when I was living in residence at UW, we organized a similar event. It was to last 5 days and on each day something special was to be done and on the 5th day you were supposed to reveal yourself.



I ended up getting a free bracelet that someone had received from the local pharmacy and nothing else, not even the identity of my Secret Santa. I found out a year later when they fessed up and tried to make up for it with Bruce the Spruce and M&Ms. And really, who can stay mad after getting a Bruce the Spruce, the most wonderful and scary singing tree of them all.

When I was little I went to camp often. I went to Music Art and Drama (MAD) for several summers, at the local library. We mostly did MAD things for an hour or two and then were set free to pilfer the town. After that I went to a youth camp for 2 summers and then finally in Grade 7 or 8, I’m not sure which, our class went to camp Wahonawin for a week. The latter 2 were your standard we have a mess hall, do crafts and activities and sing by the fire camps.



As hard as I try to remember my adventures at these camps I just can’t remember anything positive. All I can remember are odd little tidbits. I can remember walking outside with a flashlight to go to bathroom. I can remember that the one camp had what I thought to be the highest swing in the world. I can remember having to help out a homesick friend who couldn’t do anything for himself because he was so distraught and in the end he won the stick-it-out-award. I remember missing our ride home from camp and having to drive home with someone’s grandma. I remember the large table we sat at had splinters in the benches. I remember playing horseshoes and when it was my turn I hurled the shoe and someone was standing too close and it hit them in the head. My first instinct was too laugh even though I knew it must have hurt. I remember roughhousing on top of bunk beds with my friends and we all ended up on the ground, and I also ended up with a huge scare.



Did you go to camp? What do you remember from the experience?

If you plan on going to see Harry Potter, I advise you to spend the money on the book instead. A benefit of the movie was to learn the correct pronunciation of a few character's names, Otherwise the movie just shattered any perceptions I had of Hogwarts and the events that took place there.



Give your imagination a try, I guarentee you'll like it.

Random thoughts from the weekend: I am totally unprepared for death; that would make a cool mirror project shot; my hands are going to look like that some day; where is he; damn, it’s too cloudy to see the shooting stars; I can’t believe I’m thinking about when I have a baby; you can see the twinkle in his eye.

I was watching this show called the Human Zoo on the discovery channel yesterday. They were testing the behavior of people in lab situations and gauging people's initial reactions. The best example was people's perceptions of two men. Both looked exactly the same right down to their hair style and eye colour, except that one was 5'2" and the other was 6'4". Everyone thought that short man was making an average of $20,000 a year, had absolutely no respect for him and were unwilling to date him. People were much more receptive of the tall man. The general consensus was that he was very important and influential, highly datable and making $220,000 a year.



I can't believe how stereotypical people still are. I looked at the leaps and bounds that people have made over the years and was very proud, but all that progress has been lost or never really was.



I would be a lot more upset if I wasn't 6'6". According to the show I will make on average, $600 more than others for each additional inch taller I am.

David Usher - Joy in small places [4.3mb] : Just felt like sharing. I really am enjoying David's album.


well i woke up last night in a technology haze

my eyes were all sparked

from this common malaise

so i found me a doctor who said hed even me out

take my highs and my lows

cause the colours were just to loud

and as the day becomes night

and we only want greys

and the innocence runs out

well thsi is the price we pay

mr jangle what you gonna do when the sun breaks down and the rain pours through

mr jangle what you gonna do this time

you got caught on my teeth so i spit out my tongue

and i cut off these hands just to see if the feeling would come

and we drank till we drowned till we chocked on the world

and i bathed in the beauty of all of you

mr jangle what you gonna do when the sun breaks down and the rain pours through

mr jangle what you gonna do this time

well i woke up last night just outside of myself

skin hair bone broke down cell by single cell

and i could not believe i had died in my sleep

just drowned in the beauty of all of you

and as day becomes night...

The Bomber (campus pub) used to be a place of so much joy, now it only brings pain. It has taken off its white glove and slapped me across the face for the last time. Last night I waited over 2 hours and was still unable to get in. In hindsight I feel a little silly waiting so long, but once you have invested in something it’s hard to abandon it.



It all started innocently at 10 o’clock. Twenty minutes later we were near the front on the line when the rookie staff at the Bomber moved the entrance to the doors of the restaurant. There mass chaos as students skipped, ran and jumped their way over. Now we were further back in line and everyone started to get impatient and squeezed in until there was no personal space to be had. After 40 minutes of the squeeze we finally got in and were given a number.



I had just spent an hour to get in the waiting room for the Bomber. Five beers later and plenty of bitching and begging with the staff we were ready to concede. Only a fraction of people had been given the honour of entering and the number system was severely flawed, people who came in after us, went in before us.



What’s up with this rookie staff? Whose idea was it to replace the veteran manager with 4 students? Who do they think they’re fooling with their long lines to create demand while the Bomber lay dormant? Why is Moosehead considered and imported beer? Why don’t they want our money?



The Bomber has won this time. It may have crushed my spirit but it’s hasn’t quenched my taste for revenge.

I finally got around to posting a pic to the mirror project. Currently it is smack dab on the front page. I feel so special. Next time I will try something a little more interesting than the standard.

The weirdest things can make you sad. I was cleaning out my inbox and started to read old messages that I saved, actually it justs takes me a while before I do anything with them. After a while I realized that I had this treasure that I should keep. But what do you keep? There are many things that I have said, many pearls of wisdom that have been bestowed upon me and the thousands of messages that bring a smile to my face.



What is disposable?



Everything is disposable these days. You can get disposable batteries for your disposable camera to take disposable pictures of your disposable life. What happened to reduce, reuse and recycle? Now everything is about convience. Should we change the 3 R's to race, revenge and rage? They at least have a little meaning in our lifes.

Consider yourself warned.

Shall we revisit the topic of smoothness again?

For those that have no idea what I'm talking, the basic idea is that once you have known someone for so long they become smooth, that is no genitalia. You never think of them in that way. [further explanation]

So one night (drunken night, because you never try these things sober) I thought that I could make someone no longer smooth. I scotch taped on some breasts and what not, but they just fell off. It's not that it was a bad idea, it just ended up weird. Weird because I didn't want things to change, but at the same time I wanted something that I wasn't finding anywhere else. I tried looking in a different place. I'm not really even sure why I tried. It was fueled to a certain degree by thoughts planted in my head by others, a lacking relationship and a thousand other thoughts that crept through my mind.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

To: Anonymous User

Re: Cheap Sex


Message: There is no such thing as cheap sex. We all end up paying in other ways. If you really want cheap sex, I'd suggest some lotion and a little porn for the guys, women can just go sit on a washing machine during the spin cycle. Or you could just see Rafi.



Regards

When a cat wants your attention, they want it all. The behave just like a little child who whines "Dad" repeatedly until the parent focuses their full attention.

I am petting the kitten yesterday while watching TV and like any guy when a commercial comes on, I start to surf. This is too much for the cat, she looks up at me with eyes that say "how dare you not use both hands to pet me". She immediately took action and nudged her head into the offending hand until I was defeated.

After a while I figured out just how to stop petting her; she doesn't like this either (she is greedy and wants more brad-love'n and really, who can blame her). If I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep she goes to sleep.

There is nothing worse than coming home and nearly passing out because of the STANK that has been created in your absence. I have only been gone a couple hours and my roommates have created this stench of bong-water and stale pizza.

Maybe if I sing it enough, I'll start to believe it: Philosopher Kings - I am the Man [4mb]

I am the man, that's what I am
I'm a straight shooter, with a master plan
I am the man, that's why I'm here
I am the man, I am the man
I am the last real cowboy
I roped the soul of the world
Can I have your lights
Can I have your mic's
I mean to be heard
I am a radio soldier
Taking aim at the world
Mothers and fathers bring your daughters
Bring your girls, cause
I am the man, that's what I am
I'm a straight shooter, with a master plan
I am the man, that's why I'm here
I am the man, I am the man
Truth and honesty
That's my game
I'm gonna make it simple
I'm gonna make it plain
You're gonna know my face
You're gonna know my name
My favourite colour
My favourite number
You're gonna know my pain
It's all in the plan
I am the man, that's what I am
I'm a straight shooter, with a master plan
I am the man, that's why I'm here
I am the man, I am the man

Buffy as a musical. Brilliant.

If only the MuchMusic VJ Search was 4 months later. Why, oh why?!?

I am about 80% sure that I was chased by the cops last night. Either that or it was all a set of highly coincidental events.



I was out on a run and just as I was nearing home I saw a police cruiser. At that same moment it turned around in a cross street ahead of me.



I continued on running and then ducking down a sidewalk between 2 houses that leads to my street. When I was just at the end, I turned and saw that the police cruiser with its lights on had jumped the curb and was now on the sidewalk.



I just kept on walking, waiting for someone to yell something out, screaming thoughts in my head. I had no ID, I can't prove who I am, what if they harass me, what if they follow me to my place and arrest my room-mates, what if?



Nothing. It ended just like that as I entered the door.

CIA's mad scientists went too far with Acoustic Kitty - Is it wrong to laugh because all their hard work got run over? (poor kitten). I mean, it sounds like something that Stefano would do on Days of our Lives.



I'm afraid to think of what other experiemnts they have tried.

Zippers, where would we be without them? Thanks to Whitcomb Judson in 1893 we've been getting in (and out) of our clothes faster.

Why do most zippers say "YKK" on the pull-tab?
Zippers, a history

Like everything else in my life, the Halloween party was after the fact. Naturally, I wanted to go as the Incredible Hulk once I heard it was a Superheros and Villains party, but you can't get green makeup after Halloween. Instead I took a lame idea and made it worse. I went as Math Man in a pink cape and black body with a pink pi symbol on the chest. It was still better than the trailer trash trio.

One of the events involved recruiting someone off the street to come back to the party wearing a prop that we provided them. This proved rather difficult. No one would do it. We asked over 10 people to participate. What's wrong with this world that no one will go back to a party with complete strangers who happen to be dressed as Superheros. I mean if you can't trust a Superhero, who can you trust?

The pictures are here if you want a perusal.

After seeing Monsters Inc. today, I have to give it to Pixar for creating a movie that was eerily similar to life. Production started a long time ago so the movie coincidentally(?) mimicked recent events with the rolling blackouts in California (rolling blackouts in Montsropolis) and the anthrax scare (infectious children).

I foresee a future career in whoring myself out to soon-to-be-bride parties. Last night there was a group of girls who needed my assistance desperately. They needed me to do a body shot off of the bride-to-be's abs of steel. I was only too happy to oblige.

Last time it was a neck, this time abs, where next?

Some of you may have been experiencing a layout error due to some css error that I wasn't able to find. I was able to fix it by adding an extra set of brace brackets. The question is, which did you like better? 2 squares, or 3?

The Matthew Good Band just released a new album on Tuesday. Enjoy, Matthew Good Band - The Workers Sing a Song of Mass Production [4.9 mb].



he snuck out of the city the night it had come early she always used to say life's a dirty business so why not so it while the world's in bed and there's a fake part of me that comes off so you can read i was made by the taiwanese in taiwan but they don't like that much because it's called formosa he snuck into the city the dawn it had come early she always used to say life's a dirty business so just be a prick and do it while the world's awake