I got a subwoofer for Christmas, poor Lord Flanders III isn't quite sure what to think of it. Before his bowl would vibrate a little bit, but now when I crank the music his home is becoming more jacuzzi minus the hot water than ocean wavy.

Me: Maybe next time you could not say 'God' so much, my mom's not big into that.

Her: God, I have to stop that.

I got Buffy, Once More with Feeling, for Christmas and I can't stop listening to it. The CD is great, but I wish it had some more of the dialogue from the episode: Dawn's in trouble, it must be Tuesday; Buffy needs backup; Hey, I've died twice.

Bruce the Spruce says Happy Holidays! He's the gift that just keeps on giving. He's the southern cousin of Douglas the Fir, but his blue-lite eyes and soothing jingles bring the same ammount of cheer. Not much going on here: last minute shopping, a slew of functions until Sunday, and annoying my mother. My brother is home from San Francisco and we've regressed to our childhood days and have been play fighting and teaming up on my Mom. She acts really annoyed and says we're wearing her out, but secretly I know she loves it!

I'm sort of glad that I'm unemployed this year, otherwise I'd have a work Christmas party to go to, and last year's didn't turn out so well. A year later I'm still trying to put the pieces together and live down the embarrassment. In my defense, Tracy was at the Waterloo Inn and confirmed that the red wine was super-extra potent and served in copious ammounts.



Here is what I recollect:

- meet and greet everyone and decide on table

- develop plan to get more wine and establish ourselves as the rowdy table

- over several hours I take pictures of drunk coworkers

- get the thumbs up from boss who is impressed by my ways with the women

- establish reputation for dancing with exuberance

- harass fellow co-op student about something I remember nothing about

- more time passes only the drunk are left

- decide to leave, but get in fight with an acquaintance first

- need to cool off, so I wander the overpass and nearby parking garage

- injure myself causing a large bruise in varying shades of purple, green and yellow

- stumble back to hotel, get in first cab, it's full of americans

- talk aimlessly with americans about nothing, but probably something stupid like accents

- awoken by roommates after passing out

- am really cold, in bed wearing fleece and insist they all crowd in bed with me

- drink water, and puke. not necessarily in that order

- wake up next morning to find wreckage of personal affects

- go into state of denial



I should have read this before I went.

My little cousin was telling me about his first drunken escapade. They decided to get hammered during their lunch hour (mistake #1) on stolen liquor from their parents (good move, they topped it off with water), but they mixed all the different kinds together (mistake #2). It almost went off without a hitch but one of the kids couldn't hold his booze well. They went back to school (mistake #3) and he acted all crazy and then puked in his locker (mistake #4). They were all were suspended 3 days.



The whole time I was confused as who I should be. The cool cousin, who tells him where he went wrong or the responsible cousin, who tells him he's too young to drink. After laughing at him for a long time, I decided to give him some sage advice:



Liquor then beer, you're in the clear.

Beer then liquor, you've never been sicker.

I never thought Satchel and I had so much in common.

Besides, it's not like all these cartoons coming to life is 100% effective anyway - Michael probably just thinks he's tripping out. Cartoon Allstars was the ultimate after school special put out by the Bush adminitration to go along with teh 'just say no to drugs', countered by, 'I tried, but they just wouldn't listen'. I don't remember much from the episoded but the marijuana smoke that kept egging little Mikey on to do harder drugs, which seems like a cheap attempt at making it a gateway drug if you ask me.

Rated I for Inappropriate!

Some friends were out at the Science Center and decided to do a little surfing but couldn't get to my site. Apparently I have inappropriate content that the kiddies must be spared from. It must be all the adult themes I talk about; how to smoke crack without anyone noticing, 50 ways to turn you partner upside down and on her way to happyland, how to break every commandment written in 20 minutes or less, and satanic rituals for the soul. If it's all too much, mosey on to lightly toasted it's much tamer and hasn't been banned yet. The Science Center must think it is important for kids to know exactly what music is best to shag by and where exactly a bong is kept.

Don't look so damn Tragic

The second law of thermodynamics is affecting me on an exponential scale these days. Everything naturally wants to increase in disorder. Life is going faster. I'm further from support I've used in the past. I'm stuck in indecision. I'm stuck in a black hole, but thankfully I may see that proverbial white light everyone keeps talking about. About @%*&#$% time if you ask me.

Since we're on the topic of Why is Matt so damn popular? I'll throw my two cents in:


#1 - He's secretly taken over the UW Blog Ring and made it a requirement that everyone must link directly to him. He is the ring master and if you turn his request down he'll make your stats plummet. I heard of someone joining the ring and they didn't want to play by his rules, he had their DSL disconnected so they couldn't post as often anymore.



#2 - He breeds bloggers for the sole purpose of linking to him.

I wonder if all those years ago, when Britney and Christina's Moms signed them on as Mouse-cateers if Disney threw a hidden clause in the contract that said they could not be held responsible in the event that the child grew up to be a slut.

Is this helping or hurting? Marvel is making the first gay western series comic "rawhide kid: slap leather". I just can't stop laughing about it. His preferences are defined by these statments: "I think that mask and powder-blue outfit are fantastic, I can certainly see why that Indian follows him around."

If comic strip stars had their start in porn!

I'm trying to keep my infatuations and obsessions down to a minimum now that I am so old, but my crush on Chantal just keeps coming back. Last night's concert sparked the fire and her cuteness fanned the flames. The concert was spectacular as always, but not as good as Fed Hall a couple of years ago. 1) there was no sitting and 2) Chantal wasn't drunk on red wine telling funny little stories, but she did tell an amusing anecdote about porn star Ron Jeremy telling jokes, is like her..., but she didn't finish it so I had to come up with a dirty thought all on my own.



I do like her music, but it scares me a little because it seems to be breaking into that scary adult contemporary format and I am way too young for that shit. There also is a disturbing trend towards bad puns, for example the line I can't believe how much I love the rain is code for i love my hubby Raine (Maida form Our Lady Peace).

I can definitely relate to poor Charlie Brown, except for the balding and being constantly referred to by first and last name. I can't get in the Christmas spirit either. As a kid you have this wonderful sense of excitement to look forward to, there is an immense build up starting with the Christmas Tree followed by school events. Without those, the magic isn't there.



My brother, sister and I had this ritual. We'd repeat "Can we put up the tree, Dad?" repeatedly, until my parents caved. It wasn't a sophisticated tactic, but it worked. They'd go off bundled in toques and scarves to the far reaches of our property, returning a half hour later with the most pathetic looking tree you could imagine. I could never picture how that hole in it would disappear but it did and was transformed into a tree I was proud of. (It's made me a bit of a tree snob, I never think other trees are nice because they are either too tacky or too martha-stewartish.)



The Christmas excitement was topped off the last week at School. There were assemblies every morning to kick off the day with Christmas carols and Friday was a half day. That day we really rocked out to Jingle Bell rock, skits would be put on, the class partied over cupcakes someone's Mom had decorated with white icing and green sprinkles, and Santa would come to humiliate the teachers. What more could a kid want?



The only event that comes close to this level of excitement is the work Christmas party. There thrown by frugal bosses, held far too early in December to have any lasting effect on Christmas cheer, and without a doubt you will do something stupid at them, but that's a post for another time.

I hope I am not one of these parents I overheard in the grocery store;

Dad: What kind of fruitopia do you want, orange?

Kids: GRAPE!

Dad: They don't have it.

Kids: Yes they do. It's right there.

Dad: I know, but you can't have it.

I'd like to publically annouce that Christmas is coming. I have heard it's call, "It's Christmas" by Band-aid. Like so many years before, this song doesn't herald in the yuletide spirit but the shopping panic.

Things are looking up. I'm on the guest list for the invitation only Chantal Kreviazuk concert at Revival on Monday. I've never won a thing in my life, it may be time to buy lotto tickets.

(to the tune of the Sugar Crisp song) Can't get enough of those Mullet Heads. If you still can't decide what to buy for you loved one, might I suggest a Mullet Head Action Figure. If you aren't going to buy one, at least check out Randy and his Margaritaville Spill, pictures, and quotes (Dude, that's not funny. You're making fun of my hair!).

I don't know why I don't watch Jenny Jones more. I was hanging out with my cousin yesterday afternoon and he had on Jenny Jones: "I was a geek, now I'm a Wild Party Girl". A rather large African American women came up to say her thing, points to her large ass and turns it to the camera and says "I'm Bootylicious and you Booty-wishes!"

Sponge Bob Squarepants Jackass, a little TV show created by people with too much time. I on the other hand create fictitious characters. The 2 episodes are exactly what you want to see if like me you enjoy watching squeaky toys being pummeled by falling computers and run over by cars. I can just smell the lawsuit waiting to happen.

It makes a perfect conversation piece for the holiday season with it's unstructurally sound walls, assorted candy, gooey icing and symbolism of the decaying holiday season. If your gonna celebrate, do it with a shack.



Grocery stores are missing out on a huge opportunity when it comes to the gingerbread shack. It's perfect for those of us too bothered to take the time to make a gingerbread house properly. Our generation can't be bothered with minute details and all the waiting that is involved in the construction of conventional houses. If you want to make a shack all your own, gather your closest friends over drinks and let your creative juices flow as you struggle to decorate the roof before it caves in.

Her: How's the pizza doing?

Me: (after too many beers) Good, we just put it in moments ago.

Her: When will it be ready?

Me: We're waiting for the oven to preheat and then we'll put it in...

Her: (hysterical laughing followed by wild hand gestures)

Me: What?

Is CBC online turning into CityTV complete with city-porn? Cloud is a flash animation that explores what happens when a creature falls on a cloud that just happens to look like a naked women. I'm surprised that this on a site that the CBC has geared towards youth.

Manual labour in the greenhouse for my parents isn't that rewarding, it's a great way to make money but it just doesn't have that sense of satisfaction that firefighting in an office gives you, or the office politics. Here the bosses are suppose to sleep with each other. On the plus side it takes me less than a minute to walk to work, I can mouth off all I want to my boss, and this time around when I build things with my Dad I can use the power tools.

The wired article about CD-Rs being a bigger threat to music labels than P2P networks, I was talking about a few weeks ago is now online.

Well? I wanted something new but everything I had envisioned in my head was either too difficult to implement or I had no idea how to. I am pretty happy with the outcome and it doesn't stray too far from other design angles i have used in the past.

Your life isn't going well when it's no longer blog-worthy

Family are people whose personalities you put up with because you have to

I'm about to give you away to someone else today

That's how Canadians are, we need the recognition. Look at us, we exist, don't forget about us, we might disappear.

Artists sound so insincere with their, I'm so blessed to be doing what I love' speech.

I can't stop laughing at this, whorepresents.com! Is it whore presents or who represents? Either way their mixing up their demographics.

The debate lives on, where exactly does communication fit into the human waste cycle. I am a firm believer that no communique should occur during the act, but several scenarios have been presented to me; if someone sneezes, do you bless them; if you are talking with someone on the way in to the bathroom do continue?



You know my opinion, what's yours?

In case you weren't tired of me talking about those Apple switch ads, here's two more comedic ones featuring Will Ferrell.

I didn't think American Money smelling bad was such a problem. John made a switch ad so you too can know the joys of being Canadian. Join the dark side, I dare you!

The Brown Daily Herald out-scooped Leno and Lettermen to cash in on the Feiss Hype. Ellen Feiss is known for her narcotic induced performance in an Apple Switch Ad; If you think she's cute you better get those thoughts out of your head now, she's 15 years old! I think the whole thing is such a farce, pot advocates are using her as a mascot for their Smoke Different campaign.

What happened to that dream job I thought about for five years while I endured Taylor Polynomials and lectures on how to prove something is unprovable? I've been sitting idle for far to long and all the jobs opportunities I've had ammounted to nothing. My perspective on co-op jobs have totally changed now I am on the grad side. I am totally against them. Those cheap little drones with tax incentives taped to their backs take away jobs that would otherwise go to new grads.



I feel as though every choice I made in University was the wrong one. I thought co-op was about trying new and different things to see if you like them, apparently it's not. Every potential employer slightly chastises me for my diverse experience, insinuating that I should have done hardcore programming all those terms instead of marketing, business development and product management as well. The only way to make it these days is to decide what the hell you want to do at a young age and stick with it, forever. Never deviate from the plan. If you do you'll be screwed trying to make up for the lost time.

Liz Phair - Polyester Bride



I was talking, not two days ago,

To a certain bartender, I'm lucky to know

And I asked Henry, my bartending friend,

If I should bother dating unfamous men

And Henry said:  "You're lucky to even know me.

You're lucky to be alive.  You're lucky to be drinking here for free

Cause I'm a sucker for your lucky, pretty eyes."

And then he said:  "Do you wanna be a polyester bride?

Or do you wanna hang your head and die?

Do you wanna find aligator cowboy boots they just put on sale?

Do you wanna flap your wings and fly away from here?

I was sitting, not two days ago,

Feeling lonely cause I'm just feeling low

And I asked Henry, my bartending friend

Why it is that there are those kind of men

And Henry said:  "You're lucky to even know me.

You're lucky to be alive.  You're lucky to be drinking here for free

Cause I'm a sucker for your lucky pretty eyes.

And then he said:  "Do you wanna be a polyester bride?

Do you wanna hang your head and die?

Do you wanna find aligator cowboy boots they just put on sale?

Do you wanna flap your wigs and fly away from here?

"Princess do you

Really wanna flap your wings and fly...

Because you've, you've got time.&

He keeps telling me:  You've, you've got time.

But I don't believe him

"You've, you've got time.

I keep on pushing harder...

I keep on pushing farther away

But he keeps telling me:  Baby, baby do you wanna be a polyester bride?

Do you really wanna flap your wings and fly away from here?

Only a thousand dollars a word, if someone pays $9,400 US for a 93 word outline of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Wouldn't it be lovely to have money to squander on frivolous things of that ilk. It'd be just grand. Pardon me, I must spend a million dollars to determine if Giles is dead or alive.

Remember how I was telling you about that giant vending machine in Nice that excited me so much? Kottke has found a magasin non-stop all his own to keep him amused. The picture he posted sends back memories, we desperately wanted to take a picture but people kept on using the machine. Finally we just posed and walked away as we were mocked en francais.

Plasticbag.org has an insightful article on Apple's stance on piracy, pointing out that they make everything as easy as pie when it comes to distributing media and cover their asses with little stickers that say "Don't Steal Music".

No wonder their cars cost so much, they have to pay for another season of BMW Films with directors like John Woo. Not as funny as the first season's, Star, with Madonna, but entertaining none the less.

Are you suffering from objectum-sexuality? Are in love with your car, computer, or drilling rig? Do you want to take the next step? Wired points out what makes you more likely to fetishize and links directions for doing your car (warning: some assembly required).

Things haven't been going so well. I was kicked out of the Kabul after another drunken incident. I deserved it but I can't explain what happened. I'm living in a one bedroom flat that was reasonably priced, not too far from my new place of employment. Each day I dress up in a vintage suit and bowler hat, head out to Las Ramblas to be a statue. My patience has helped me to remain still for so long and while the money isn't great it will get me by until I find something more permanent.



I stare at myself in the mirror for hours, frozen in time, dark hair and green eyes. I don't recognize the face staring back at me. I'm not the guy who starts fights in a bar, blacks out and wakes up in someone else's bed the next day. I'm not the guy who yells at everyone and takes off. The person in the mirror is lost, disconnected, and incomplete. I don't know who I am anymore. I can't say to myself this is what you stand for, this is where you came from. All I can do is say this is not what you are, and hopefully after a long enough period I'll be able to recognize myself again.



Sed

If your online at 8, 9 or 11 ET tonight check out Chantal Kreviazuk's live web performances. If you haven't heard her check her out. She likes cotton candy and rainbows a lot!

Wired Magazine had an interesting take on the RIAA's focus on P2P music trading, that it's the spawn of the devil and must be stopped at all costs. I think it accurately pointed out that there is a greater problem in CDR's and Gigabyte players. But I think the greatest problem of all is in Austausch, so sign up already so I can get it going!

Canada flies low on most people's radar. They know it exists, where it is, and Bob but really have no strong feelings for it one way or another. I can see many Canadians feeling exposed because of the 'terror tape' that clearly identifies the country's role. Perhaps a peace offering will help. I'm picturing a book, Where's Osama? Based on the lovable series of Where's Waldo, complete with exotic locals and oil barrens.

I love Toronto's polarity. I haven't really sauntered her streets since I lived there a few years ago and I miss it. I miss it for reasons that make everyone else crinch.



Within minutes of exiting Union Station I watched a bunch of pre-teens swarm a fallen poster of Shawn Desmond, was given advice to stay away from fat chicks in strip joints and observed hand-crotcheted phone handset cozies in a lovely shade of pink and blue. I'd love to see what kind of mischief would occur if the population of the Queen Street Mental Health Centre were to roam free, but It's probably not such a good idea.

Blacking out last night turns out to me more of a defense mechanism than I thought. The whole morning I was racking my brain trying to figure out what dumb-ass deed I had committed outside the Black Sheep with Sarah, when someone actually told me. I wish he hadn't. The guys I had been drinking with earlier were on their way out of the bar when they saw it. She. PUKED. in. my. mouth! Which apparently caused me and several others to reciprocate. Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn. I don't think it will happen again, she was so embarrassed she left the hostel the next morning.



I'd say I won't drink again so things like this can't happen anymore, but I know it's a lie. What else have I got to do?



Cheers,


Sed

Canadians aren't nice, we ban corned beef, may steal book ideas, and swear in prime time television. More details in this article; Yann Martel winner of the Booker prize for Life of Pi is accused of copying the idea from a Brazilian author. Maybe I should have gotten that book instead of the basic writings of Niethzsche.

Barcelona has accepted me with open arms. The Kabul was as great as you said it would be. Everyone has been friendly and the rooms are as comfortable as can be expected, except for the card-key lockers in the rooms. All morning while I was trying to sleep in my hung-over state I could hear the never ending beeping as other guests fumbled with them.



While I was sitting in the lounge, with a gigantic beer during happy hour, I made drinking buddies with a bunch of guys from Ireland. For a couple hours we played drinking games until we had attracted some girls from Australia (I just can't resist the accent). We headed out on Las Rambla and ducked down a couple of side alleys until we hit a bar we had heard about, the Black Sheep. It was crowded and reminded me of another century with it's thick wooden tables and white washed walls. I had the best Sangria in my life and after another hour or so I was out in the alley making out with one of the Australian girls. Unfortunately that was the last thing I remembered doing when I woke up at the Kabul with a killer hangover!



More Later,

Sed

I saw My Big Fat Greek Wedding over the weekend. I know that my future experience won't be that bad, but my mother and the father in the movie aren't all that different. His enthusiasm for windex is matched by my mother's love of iodine and he might as well have been chanting "marry a good Dutch girl" and "if you ain't Dutch you ain't much".

I love how the concept of art is always being extended. Found is a new magazine composed of discarded letters, doodles, cards, etc. Rothbart will use just about anything to glimpse into the lives of other. You can read more about it here.



My favourtie excerpt: "Mario, I f---ing hate you, You said you had to work then whys your car HERE at HER place?? You're a f---ing LIAR. I hate you I f---ing hate you. Amber P.S. Page me later."

I'm leaving, there's nothing here for me.



I finally confronted my parents about being adopted two weeks ago. I told them I knew about my twin brother in Canada and they better tell me the truth about where I came from. They stuck together, feigning ignorance, acting as if they didn't know a damn thing about it. I can tell they're lying, Dad's vein was bulging bigger than when he found me stoned and Mum did nothing but bake boterkoek for a week.



I thought after the shock of it all they would maybe say something. I tried in vain. "How could you lie to me for 24 years? How can you look me in the eyes? I hate you! If you don't tell me something I'm leaving!" They sat there stone faced as if nothing were happening as if my right to know didn't matter. I yelled so loud the neighbours called the police to make sure everything was all right.



There must be more to this story than either of us know.



I have no choice but to make good on my threat. I'm moving to Barcelona as soon as possible. Until then I am staying with my ex. Know of any good places to stay in when I first get to the city?



Sed

In this article Alistair MacLeod author of No Great Mischief points out that "Even if it's all true, it's not interesting". He's not specifically talking about my site but he might as well have. My life isn't all that interesting and the good bits I can't post anyway because of the readers. It's time to lie a little and add a little fiction to spice it up.



Sedric is my twin brother and is going to contribute to the site soon. He's not evil or opposite, just unwanted. My parents on fertility drugs during our conception only could afford one child. I thankfully won the toss, but cursed Sedric was sent off to live with my relatives in Amsterdam. I discovered his existence while backpacking in europe 6 months ago. We ran into each other at a hostel and unable to deal with the others existence we repressed the meeting. Until now that is.

I'd like to go to a Halloween party where people did more than dress up. A party where they actually became their characters. I'd sit in the corner with black pants, white and black stripped shirt, face white and silent. Maybe it should be a pimp and whore themed party.

Mac O'Lanterns - If only I had more time and cared I would use this how-to information to make a really cool kick-ass pumpkin.

What the hell is a zephyr? And why should I fly away on it?



If you asked my mom she would say it's a zipper, but that only leads me to dirty implications. If you ask dictionary.com it means, a gentle breeze, which is what I think the Chili Peppers meant. Then again, I could be wrong, this is the same band that wrote 'Suck My Kiss'.

Seeing a suspense movie in a theater is infinitely better and scarier. I never jump during scary movies but I'm thinking that's because I rarely see them in the theater. Red Dragon made me jump, not by the events on the screen which were good, but by the intensity of the sound encompassing me. A loud noise is a thousand times more terrifying to me than seeing someone shot in the head repeatedly. Desensitization has worked its magic a little too well on me.

I know, you really want to join Austausch, but the requirements are just too much. I scraped some more mirror sites together so the hosting stipulation has been removed. Now you really have no excuse not to join.

Turns out those links to porn sites in my referrer logs are the newest form of spam according to this wired article. Spam is starting to really piss me off. I've never had a problem with it before, but the nuisance is growing exponentially and it's shattering my ego. Don't those spammers realize how much it hurts to realize that the only mail you have is spam?

Check out Austausch, the album exchange club with all the perks of the Stonecutters! I was going to name it the tunes and album exchange, tna for short, but decided on some good old german instead.

The new Matt Good video for Weapon is available on his site in quicktime. The video is interesting and has the Matt Good edge to it that we have grown to love, so if you're bored go check it out.

I know we've all been thinking it lately, men's underwear just isn't as exciting as it used to be. It was on a roll with the advent of boxer-briefs, but since then it has gotten stale. Don't worry, a revolution is upon us! Shamba Amana has given us something new in Round-de-bout; instead of a slit in the front we can have an elasticized hole. The new design also thoughtfully made the label into a small pocket perfect for condom storage. Their site is still not up, so a pic is unavailable which is a shame because I think you really need to see these for yourself.

Weeping Tile - Handkerchiefs and Napkins



Here in the trees the rain has stopped coming down

So easily distracted

How lucky are we to have these wet seasons

Sew handkerchiefs and napkins



Everyones home now the tired ones are hiding out




To catch up on their sleep

And time here alone seems to come where your stoned

Theres a door to close and a thought to keep



Here in the trees in the off chance we leave while the road in

Is getting washed out

In the spaces well leave it alone 



Here in the trees the rain has stopped coming down

So easily distracted

How lucky are we to have these wet seasons

Sew handkerchiefs and napkins

Every time a friend passes out from too much drinking and not enough sleep I must do something about it, I just can't help myself, it's my duty as defender of drunks and purveyor of evil deeds. Basically it's in my blood.



I made spit balls of kleenex and water and tossed them with all the accuracy that only a drunk person can muster up, missing each and every time. My friend tired of watching my botched attempts, took a nice wet one and launched it at a high velocity hitting the eye socket with a good wet splat, sending water dripping down the face of the passed out prisoner. The noise had been so perfect and clear, and as the target remained dormant and motionless more laughter built up until the victim finally woke up wondering why everyone was incapacitated on the floor in fits of laughter and what was on their face?

Pouring accelerant over various wood bits and throwing a match in the mix creates a deep woof sound of pure satisfaction. I spent 3 hours tending a fire, taking the time to nurture destruction one piece at a time. It's all part of this new job program I created for myself, try as many jobs as you can and if you can't, make the rest up. I can see why they like there jobs so much.



On a side note, does anyone remember a kids show where there was a trunk of old hats and when worn they transported the wearer?

Somehow I got it in my head that I could refresh my memory of all the technical code-y goodness I have lost over the last year by going through all my CS notes for the last 5 years. Rummaging threw them I discovered one thing, I get bored easily. Every other page has the phrase 'I am bored' or 'I am so bored' or an intricate doodle that I toiled over instead of paying attention. In a first year CS class I even went as far as writing a poem.

(clears throat)



CS makes one's soul morose,

and in need of an overdose

our soul is a precious treasure

that no one person can measure

it shall not be altered

no matter how our hearts falter

in our soul we keep our being

that everyone we touch keeps seeing

in their eyes we can notice

emotions made toward us

if our soul is of desire

we will be the one's to inspire. (1998)

Free Wallace and Gromit Short - Soccamatic. This reminds me of a guy I lived with in first year res who had the entire collection. He became extremely irritated by anyone implying they were not funny and would insist they watch some of his collection with him.

I tell people my nipples are the size of dinner plates, but I am assured by many they aren't. Now I have gone off and injured the left one. It's runner's nipple, a chaffed nipple caused by my shirt rubbing against it for a long period of time. You wouldn't think something like that would hurt, it doesn't. It just stings like a son of a bitch.



Pray for me. Pray for Mojo (simpsons reference, not my nipple).

Person 1: "How cute, PeeWee Football!"

Person 2: "OH MY GOD! PeeWee Cheerleading!"



I don't know why, but it was the funniest thing I had ever seen in my life until that point. Twenty or so chubby little girls with pom-poms in full swing.

An abandoned house sits on a decimated lot on the outskirts of town. The siding is falling off faster than the paint peels. Our protagonist is hidden deep within the bowels of the building surrounded by protection in the form of extra-large military personal. There is a hit on his life and two assassins have been sent. The two enter the house without a sound, but are immediately picked up on the infared camera situated on top of an old rusted out refrigerator. The protection seizes the assassins bringing them to our protagonist. He pulls off the balaclavas to reveal Amanda Zimm and Busy Ramone from the wildly successful TV show Ready or Not. In his frustration he punches Zimm sending her back to the floor with a trickle of blood flowing from the left nostril.



Another night another strange dream.

I have a recurring dream where I attend a boarding school. The location changes but the school always has an elevator in it that plays some sort of key role. Last time all the students were trying to defeat some evil entity and I had to use the elevator to conquer each floor. This time I kept waiting to get an elevator but it would always be full. I finally managed to snag one and on the way down the doors opened and these enormously fat people tried to get in but couldn't. They got stuck and trapped me in.

You can't control anything on the web, not your death or resurrection. SuccaLand has been reincarnated as Triplespeak.



How do you get refers from sites that don't link to you? Right now my stats page is full of refers from quiveringfuckhole, voodoomachine and raverpussies.

Who's on the cover of a magazine? Little Elisha Cuthburt from PMK is on the cover of Maxim and MuchMusic's former VJ Rachel Perry is doing a spread of her own in Stuff. Both of these covers completely threw me off, I didn't know either of these Canadian Gals had achieved enough American Stardom to have Cover appeal.

People ask questions they don't want answers for, far too often. A friend asked me why she shouldn't get a cat. I did my best and came up with several solid reasons, all of which were disregarded because she had already made up her mind. The same thing happened when it came to naming the new kittens, both girls solicited ideas and shot down every single one I suggested. I like clever names such as Blackie for a cat that's not black or Bo because a violin bow is made of catgut, and suggested things along that line and then gave up entirely and said anything. Only one name was decided upon, Miss Kitty Fantastico, like I would ever come up with that sober.

It's rejuvenating to be considered meat in the market. The bar I went to last night was a quant little hole that I think I could learn to love. I met a friend from my escapades in Barcelona this summer and we partied as if we had never left the city. The band crowded the dance floor with cover songs that enthralled the women to grab my ass, grind against my body and do anything else they wished. Either that, or it was just crowded.

I wish my life came with some sort of secret anti-boredom device. A nice little black box surrounded by glass and above it hangs a pretty little sign, "break glass in case of emergency". Truthfully I don't think that box would have survived beyond my formative years, but it would have proved invaluable on days such as this when the most interesting thing that happens is running by hens who have wandered to close to the street.

Nadasurf - Popular, because after all these years you still harbour resentful feelings towards high school that you haven't quite been able to work through yet and are searching for some guide to point out your mistakes.



Three important rules for breaking up

Don't put off breaking up when you know you want to

Prolonging the situation only makes it worse

Tell him honestly, simply, kindly, but firmly

Don't make a big production

Don't make up an elaborate story

This will help you avoid a big tear jerking scene

If you wanna date other people say so

Be prepared for the boy to feel hurt and rejected

Even if you've gone together for only a short time,

And haven't been too serious,

There's still a feeling of rejection

When someone says she preferres the company of others

To your exclusive company,

But if you're honest, and direct,

And avoid making a flowery emotional speech when you brake the news,

The boy will respect you for your frankness,

And honestly he'll apeciate the kind of straight foward manner

In which you told him your decision

Unless he's a real jerk or a cry baby you will remain friends



I'm head of the class

'm popular

I'm a quarter back

I'm popular

My mom says I'm a catch

I'm popular

I'm never last picked

I got a cheerleader chick



Being attractive is the most important thing there is

If you wanna catch the biggest fish in your pond

You have to be as attractive as possible

Make sure to keep your hair spotless and clean

Wash it at least every two weeks

Once every two weeks

And if you see Jonny football hero in the hall

Tell him he played a great game

Tell him you like his article in the newspaper



I'm the party star

I'm popular

I've got my own car

I'm popular

I'll never get caught

I'm popular

I make football bets

I'm a teachers pet.



I purpose we support a one month limit on going steady

I think It will keep you both more able to deal with weird situation

And get to know more people

I think if you're ready to go out with Jonny

Now's the time to tell him about your one month limit

He wont mind he'll apreciate your fresh look on dating

And once you've dated someone else you can date him again

I'm sure hell l did

Everyone will appreciate it

You so novel what a good idea

You can keep you time to your self

You don't need date insurance

You can go out with whoever you want to

Every boy, every boy, in the whole world could be yours

Iif you'll just listen to my plan

The teenage guide to popularity

The whole problem with being white trash is that I'm not really cut out for prison. I just finished reading, Bingo!, by Roger Caron about the Kingston Pen riots in '71. The events that happened there make me cringe to think about. The small cells, the lack of respect and the general isolation would make me go insane. I can't handle a small town well, let alone a small cell with a toilet in the corner and a hole to look out of. I would lash out at the Screws for telling me what to do. Those conditions plus several other factors made the inmates go crazy in '71 and do the vilest of acts to friends and foes. The book reiterated that the scariest imaginations can always be surpassed by the messiness of life.

I've been thinking, if I don't get a job soon I should become a school bus driver. The hours seem like they would be reasonable, morning, lunch and late afternoon and I could do field trips occasionally if I need the money. I would only drive the little kids because lets face it, those high school kids are punk asses on the bus. I was one of them and we were horrible with all our charades and pranks. At the end of the year the bus driver would get us back by throwing water balloons at us as we left. But, the best reason of all is I can finally let myself go and become what I've always wanted to be, white trash!

now with 40% more ritual

If I could be a professional voyeur/photographer I would. I have had all these ideas for photo essays going through my head. The most intriguing was sparked today as I watched a young man hop off his bike and knock on the door of a motel room. After making sure that no one was watching him he slipped in and closed the door. I can envision a book with hundreds of pictures that chronicle clientele. It would tell such an interesting story. One of love, sorrow and adventure. After all there is more than just one obvious reason to get a motel room.



I last stayed in Tobermory after driving 3 hours to rescue my brother and sister who were trying desperately to make it to a wedding on Mantoulin Island. When I got there I had no way of contacting them, so I sat in the parking lot calling their names until they revealed themselves.



Where and why did you stay in your last motel room?

Buffy. Season Premiere. Tonight.

Reading this article about a short film on wired lead to checking out the director's site and short film The Honey Pot. It was like learning how to make crayons on the polka dot door, but with more of an adult theme and more laughs. (Movies are in Quicktime).

I fear I am slowly killing Lord Flanders. He swims around his converted vase and it bombarded by sound waves. Located by a speaker the water ripples as the bass makes my room tremble. If anything it's having a positive side effect, Flanders really knows how to swim to the beat. He's always strutting his stuff like the bad ass he is.

Do you like R.E.M.? - Hell Yah!

Do you like Free? - Do I!

Download the free r.e.m.IX now!



The site has 10 tracks to download and some artwork for the jewel case. The remixes are another side of the band that I've never heard before. If I had to sum it up, it's sort of a house, trance, and lounge mix. It's interesting and I am liking it, for now at least.

required reading: shift's The Simpsons Generation. I actually subscribe to this magazine for my love of the eclectic articles. This one focuses on culture over the last decade, complete with Simpson quotes and scenarios to help make the point.

I've always keep a blind eye to death. Never admitting that it's there or that it can affect me. Because of that obtuseness I ignore the possibility of it and death will shock me to the core when it finally does truly affect me, forcing a reexamination of life and its finality.

The desperation of being unemployed can be powerful. Mighty powerful, it can make you do things you never dreamed of before just to pass the time. It reminds of when I was in finals and would clean my room instead of studying. Except instead of finals I'm unemployed and installing doorbells, light fixtures and canning fruit on top of the cleaning thing.

Has anyone' sued a dog for harrassment before? Can I?



I could be the first. All references point to people harassing dogs and not vice versa. Do I smell a frivolous law suit coming on?

A sharp mind is a prison of it's own making. Caught in contradictions. Digging a hole with every thought. Spreading the seeds of doubt and despair rapidly, only to resurface to normality when the conflict is resolved or forgotten. A spiral that occurs out of curiosity and situation. A defense mechanism designed to intensify and numb emotion. It creates disastrous or splendid fantasies whose vividness pale in comparison to reality. A constant dynamic universe of existence that solitude may be sought but never found.

Have you ever wanted to hit a dog? I didn't think I would ever want to, but it happened just the same. I was running my usual route when this pesky dog was barking and following me. I did the usual, stop, let the dog sniff and keep going. It didn't work. It wouldn't let me move. Yelling at it didn't help. Moving didn't help. Nothing helped, it only seemed to piss the dog off more. Finally the owner yelled for the dog to come back and I got really pissed off. The kind of anger that you didn't know was there. It surprises you and wants to come out. No matter how calm you think you are, there is always that one thing waiting, lurking to come out, whispering "express don't repress".

Well, dress me up like a pink grapefruit and slap me silly, Canada has it's own Men's Magazine. UMM, Urban Male Magazine is trying to take on GQ, Maxim, Details et al. I don't think they are doing that good of a job. Like most, I've never heard of it. I just happened to stumble upon it at Chapters thinking it was brand spanking new. It has a least 3 issues behind it's belt so I am not really sure how long it has been around.

My generation, whatever that happens to be called these days needs to have some alterations made to it. Not only are we a bunch of tech savvy, smart, good looking people, but we also have a need for sexual humour. It all started with that sweet warm apple pie (Mmmmm...) and escalated into The Sweetest Thing. The movie shows it's sexual prowess with such gimmicks as the penis song ("my body is a movie and your penis is the star", "your penis won't fit in there or there or there") and an act of fellatio that ends with a penis piercing caught on a set of tonsils. What's next?

Pale Colours Surround

Contorted Shadows Display

Hidden Things From Day

"How many illegal aliens fit in your trunk? Do you have any weapons of Mass Destruction? "Do you know what a weapon of Mass Destruction is?". Just a few questions from our friendly customs agent. I wonder if anyone has been stupid enough to admit to any of those things?



Thanks for the laughs Detroit. How do these things slip through the cracks. It's as good as The Canadian Conservative Reforam Alliance Party, CCRAP, but at least they caught that in time.

E-mail's suppose to be this great communication tool but it's one dimensional. Words only. It pales in comparison to two dimensional conversations on the phone and three dimensional conversations in person. Each form adds another layer to it, inflection in the voice and body language. The more we use email the less we are able to communicate effectively with others.

May 4, 2002

Old men with big flaccid penises like to wave them around in public places. I wish they wouldn't. I don't need to see it.



May 3, 2002

The fun-loving pick up and go idea of backpacking has been smothered by the French Rail System. All high speed trains must be booked ahead of time and we didn't, the train we want from Brussels to Paris is full. After a work around and an insistence that, yes, we want to stopover in Brussels we were able to do what we wanted with a few additional stops. We should have listened to the train-dude when he said go to Antwerp if you want to see a beautiful Belgium city. Instead we went to a beautiful square in the trash area of a city. The Grand Place is beautiful, but I am glad that I didn't spend a night in this city.

Noooooo! A collective cry is heard as the chosen one is now the married one.

I swear, everyday my life feels just that much more complete. First it was a Christmas party with Dalton McGuinty and now I've shared an elevator with the Premier of Ontario, Mike Harris, or some guy who happens to look just like him, which I doubt because there is that rule where all politicians have to have that disinct look about them. Mulroney had the chin, Chretien the crooked mouth, and Mike has the big nose.

If I want to become an olympic athlete I should consider this method. I think it will be on Springer soon. -> Canadian cyclists may boycott team - Group loses bid to ban team member who had sex change

Winnie the Pooh - "I'm round and fat and proud of that". I think we can all take a lesson from his courage.

Another note on the xXx genre of movies. Imagine how ridiculous a Canadian Flag parachute would look in a movie or any other scenario for that matter. Who would such a parachute carry? CSIS members? Canadian Daredevils, if there is such a thing? The Armed Forces?

My ability to suspend belief is starting to dwindle. I'm not sure if I can't do it or if Hollywood Movies are trying to stretch it further and further by presenting scenarios that in the back of my head have 0% probability of happening. I saw Triple X or xXx or whatever you are suppose to call it a couple of days ago and the same thoughts have been cycling in my head.

- Heat seeking missiles never target cigarettes. It is simply to small, light bulbs generate more heat.
- Solar powered submarines. You would think that is enough but the solar powered submarine was more of a hydrofoil than a submarine.
- Barns full of cocaine that explode under gunfire.
- Surviving an avalanche by snow boarding ahead of it. I don't care how bitch'n you are it.

Anyone with a heat seeking missile, solar-powered submarine, cocaine or dynamite is encouraged to disprove or prove my theories. I eagerly await your response. Send Pictures and viedo where possible. I am not liable if you actually do any of these things.

I imagine now that one of my friends has gotten engaged that the rest are going to follow. I want to believe that it is because they are all little lemmings waiting for the first couple to make the move so they can follow and slowly out number us singles, who they will try to feebly setup on blind dates and try not to pity us to our faces but us singles will know better. We will be vigilant in our choice to remain single. We will be devout to it like a Mac user is to Apple and Canadians are to Canada, simply because we feel we are the underdog. We will offer nothing less than a ferocious pride to outside observers.

That's how it could happen if you were to let your mind wander...

What are those loons saying anyway:
Loon 1: Hello, is anyone out there?
Loon 2: Vern, is that you?
Loon 1: Chuck, is that you? I can't see anything on this damn pond. We should seriously consider moving to city.
Loon 2: I know, I heard the fowl up there are easy. Plus we can work that whole endangered species angle.
Loon 3: You guys suck!
silence
Loon 1 and 2: Ha ha you just jealous Shirley.
Loon 2: She's still an ugly duckling.
Ha ha ha...

Obit:
A brief ceremony will be held in the bathroom of the Beta Chapel (2nd stall on the right) for Lord Flanders the 2nd who died on August 18, 2002. Lord Flanders was devoid of any personality and spent his precious moments of freedom from the pet store in a plastic bag. He is survived by Lord Flanders the 3rd, his replacement and long time lover Lolita. Lord Flanders enjoyed kicking a little Beta Fish ass, but took it to far when he abused his lover Lolita on their first fin-to-fin meeting. After the restraining order expired the couple rekindled their love and vowed to remain in separate bowls.

It's reasons like this that make me hate Microsoft, they are bastardizing my school, not that it needed much help! All these corporate sponserships are degrading the quality of education. Universities are not doing what is best for the student, but what is best for the bottom line. Microsoft's grant has strings attached?

Dashboard Confessional - The Best Deceptions :: You know where...

I heard about your trip.
I heard about your souvenirs.
I heard about the cool breeze,
In the cool nights,
And the cool guys
That you spent them with.
Well I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I guess I should have heard of them from you.

Don't you see,
Don't you see, that the charade is over?
And all the "Best Deceptions"
And "Clever Cover Story" awards go to you.
So kiss me hard
Cause this will be the last time that I let you.
You will be back someday
And this awkward kiss
That screams of other people's lips
Will be of service to keeping you away.

I heard about your regrets.
I heard that you were feeling sorry.
I heard from someone that you wish
You could set things right between us.
Well I guess I should've heard of that from you.
I guess I should've heard of that from you.

I'm waiting for blood to flow to my fingers;
I'll be all right when my hands get warm.
Ignoring the phone, I'd rather say nothing.
I'd rather you'd never heard my voice.
You're calling too late
Too late to be gracious
And you do not warrant long good-byes.
You're calling too late.

I've always thought to myself that an easy way to discourage music pirating over Limewire and Kazaa would be to flood the services with bad mp3's. After several attempts users would get discouraged and give up. No Doubt's label must have caught on to this, because I haven't been able to get a decent version of Hella Good or Underneath it all, at all. Every version I download is a good quality song, but consists of the lyrics looped repeatedly. Damn labels...

You know what's funny? 14 year old boys who say "I think you should tap that".

Apple's whole switch campaign is turning out way more successful than I ever thought it would. They have the media writing about how to switch, developers writing apps to move data from PC's to Macs and the ads are creating a stir. Ellen Feiss has her own fan sites and clubs, some of which debate about whether or not she is stoned and can she kick the ass of the 'dude, your getting a dell' guy.

The problem with self-help books is that they infer you have a problem, specifically one that you are trying to solve. I think we should rename them self-diagnostics, or self-inventories or something like that, that isn't as judgmental.

Movies show speedy car chases and the only damage done is a few scratches and minor dents after repeated rammage. I participated in one hit and the other car was worse for the ware.

Damn, damn, damn.

My perfect record has been broken. I've been driving for 7 years and haven't had a single accident and tonight it was shattered when I got rear-ended on the highway. I was going with the flow of traffic and had to brake while going around a corner. I looked back and saw a red Sunfire enter my review mirror, I looked ahead to see if I had space to move. I didn't. It hit me dead-on, leaving my bumper not looking so shiny and new, and bending the Sunfire hood into a small tent. It happened in less than a second but all the events occurred in slow motion. What I found funniest is that after we had pulled over to the side, instead of calling the police to report the accident, we both called home for guidance.

Possibly the best application ever, Daily Comic, lets me look at my favourite comics quickly and without all the extra bloat.

My people take great offense to the depiction of the Dutch in Austin Powers! Goldmember's accent was horrible and everyone knows that when we eat our skin we put mayonnaise on it.

Sometimes where I live seems so small. All the things I left behind when I went to school are just as accessible now as they were then. Last weekend I went to an outdoor festival and ran into some friends from high school. More people than I had seen in the last 5 years from home and more than I care to see I think. Why people have these fake little conversations is beyond me. Why can't we accept that, some people we aren't friends with anymore? Why must we delude ourselves with a fake invitation that neither party will ever accept?

Hawksley Workman - Your Beauty Must Be Rubbing Off

You know how guys have that whole thing for lesbians? You know, the thing about threesomes with overly attractive lesbians that is not even remotely possible because lesbians don't care for men. That dream may no longer be impossible if you switch lesbians for bisexual women. Just in care you were wondering where you were going wrong.

The world likes to play evil tricks. The kind where you think that a video camera is hiding somewhere capturing your frustration and amusement. It all started off innocently enough. I was hitting the ball around with my loiusville slugger that I got as birthday present when I young, it still has my name written on it in the best primary printing I could muster. I popped the ball up and it got stuck about 30 feet up in a spruce tree. So, what do i do? I throw my bat at it a couple of times trying to knock it down, then on the my last attempt, the tree ate my bat and deposited at the tip of the 40 foot tree.

Living at home is free except for all the costs. All the things in your life you get used to having are now gone. Merely a distant memory of an over active imagination.

I'm starting to feel disconnected, missing the intimate details of everyone's lives. I no longer hear the inane anecdotes I would have the pleasure of if I were around to partake. It's no one's fault. These things just happen. If we could remain close with everyone in that way we would. There wouldn't be a need for reunions and other excuses to catch up and relive memories past. But we can't, so relationships adapt. I just haven't figured it out yet. I've never been good at communications that span great distances. Just ask the people that bob around in my wake.

Girl #1 to Girl #2 - "Please, put your under-boob away. I'm tired of looking at it"

My new theme song for the summer: Morcheeba - Crystal Blue Persuasion

The only thing that could have made Hillside better this year would have been camping. Everything else I wanted I got. I wanted to hear some new bands, have some fun, eat great food and meet some new people.

How many people listen to music because they think it's cool and not because they like it. I have met so may people that secretly love music but never admit to it. They have these notions that making it means selling out and that if someone is popular they can't be good. WHY? If you think a band is good don't you think other people will eventually find out and that the band makes it because they are good. Stranger things have happened.

Someone was thinking ahead. To my delight, I discovered during a drinking game that "3 for me" translates into french and still rhymes. Trois pour moi!

An anechoic chamber is a large perfectly insulated room. No sound enters or escapes it's grasp. I've experienced the complete an utter lack of sound produced. It's disturbing and beyond quiet. Your ears tell you something is wrong the second you enter. Eventually you hear body noises you never thought existed. The blood flowing in your veins is audible. Your heart creates a trembling bass, a pattern for your thoughts. It's a place your mind can never be silenced. The tiniest thoughts can be heard.

The power I have some times is frightening. I could take a young mind and twist it to my liking, create an entity that only exists to do my bidding. Perhaps that is a little too far, but I do yield the power. I was taking care of my 13 year old cousin and over the week I realized exactly how much power I had. I didn't think it was much at first, but it is. Here is a kid who is trying to figure out how the world works an where he fits and I could drastically change that. I could show him all the things his parents had tried to shelter him from. I didn't. Instead he kicked my ass at video games because old people like my have difficult with the 3-D thing. Then I just kicked his ass for the fun of it.

Montreal is one of those cities where the food is good and the beer is flowing. I had my first Fin du Monde, a tasty 9% beer and very place I ate at left me fuller than what is healthy. There is an outdoor art exhibit going on that I snagged these photos from. All are aerial shots from around the world.











The ride home got a little crazy, we started having conversions wth cars. A typical conversation went something like this "Jetta! Jetta what are you doing? Oh no, red car. Red Car! What are you doing?" and so on until we had stopped to release ourselves from our automobile cage.

This Switch Ad is the funniest thing I have seen in a long time. It reminds me of all the computer stories I heard over the years. She sums it up beautifully, it's a ... bummer.

Often I feel like I have to defend my choice in computers. I use a Mac and really, I don't care who knows. I like it and I don't think I would ever switch. Maybe if it was a simple choice between the OS features, but's it not. It a choice about applications that are plentifully available and ones that work well. I can be disappointed that the latest games aren't available for my Powerbook, but I think it would be worse to be using Windows and lusting after the applications that come free on a Mac. When Jobs starting talking about a digital lifestyle many thought he was talking shit but it's all true. I'd be lost without those applications to simplify the management of my toys.

You should never complain about something you use for free, but you can complain that the solution is much easier than they want you to know. I finally just played around with Blogger and fixed the problem my own damn self.

is it ever going to work again?

I wanna go to Lapdance. It sounds like my kind of thing, good music and technology mixed together. A place where it's cool to be a technologically inclined.

What's the proper procedure when passing a funeral procession? Is it not passing it at all or just not ripping by at 70 clicks in the other lane? A dilemma I rarely face but I felt guilty once I saw the hearse that marked the beginning of the solitary line.

Technology has had a noticeable impact over the years. You don't really notice the little changes that progress life day to day until you stumble upon something straight from the past. Walking into the Camera store I was greeted by a family, a large family of Religion X (X being one of those religions where you reject modern technologies and do everything old school). They were getting passport photos done (some exceptions must be made) and each person had on the same handmade outfit that make them look like they belong in the 20's and not the present. Imagine how uniform people must have looked in their overalls and straw-hats, did their society allow individuals or only preset clones?

Because cottage reading can never be too serious I chose How to be a Canadian to entertain me after an attempt at some of the other books I brought along failed leaving me bored out of my mind. It was hilarious. It had me in stitches, I actually laughed out loud at the jokes. I was particularly fond of the comparison of Tim Hortons and a religious cult and the chapter on 12 Ways to Say Sorry that ended with the statement "Canadians sure are sorry a lot, but they never apologize".

Life at the cottage is so hard. My biggest decisions are whether or not I want to read on the dock or in the hammock and how long do I want to lay out on the water trampoline.

Sigh.... A month ago my life wasn't boring. Today I'm stuck in slow motion, moving from one place to the next trying to get something completed but never actually starting.



Traveler's withdrawl.

If you've ever struggled to achieve your 15 minutes of fame, I think your looking in the wrong place. Children will worship you if you let them. I went to visit my sister's Grade 1/2 class to bring them their last postcard from Spain (they got one from each country that I visited on my trip) and show them some pictures. Children have this way of idolizing you even though they know nothing about you. They just want to hang out with you, crush cans with you, and play basketball with you. Then later on, the only thing they will remember is how tall you were.

May 1 2002: Some things in Amsterdam only the tourists do. It's funny how many people seem to make their way to the city just do drugs legally. What's the point? You can do these things at home anyway and probably have a better time than sit stoned in the lounge of a hostel or walk around sketched out.

The red light district is a dirty, interesting place. It runs along a canal crowded with tourists and dodgy dealers hawking their drug wares. The windows are filled with unattractive women who smile and wink at you, trying to drum business with their fake attention. The windows they peer through have beds in the background ready for the paying customers and lights that illuminate the prostitutes body in an unflattering manor. The customers leave the rooms quickly and veer down the closest ally possible, ashamed of what they have done or afraid to get caught. Japanese business men stand in pools outside the door deciding who is going to go in. The district is sketchy and seems unreal with little kids strolling the streets while strangers fuck behind closed curtains.

Apr 27 2002: When children are little they adopt culture quickly, which is why they pick up slang and accents so quickly. I am like that child. Today I went to Bath, England to check out the old sulphur smelling Roman Baths. A, B, C and I are sitting down to tea at the Pumphouse starting on dessert after finishing the finger sandwiches and scones with clotted cream. The waitress asks me if I want something, I reply "Yes, that would be" (insert long dramatic pause here) "lovely (with a minute english accent)".



The laughter was instantaneous and unavoidable. There was nothing I could do, my brain wouldn't pump out any other words. At least I'm taking in the culture.

How do they clean porta-potties? The only acceptable way I can think of is a conveyer belt solution. Any hands on approach would be way too nasty.

Another european travel tip has spilled out into my life. In my pack I rolled all my clothes because it took less space and kept them relatively wrinkle-free. Using this practice at home has allowed me to actually fit all my clothes in the drawers and find them again. Now I just have to teach my dresser to clean the dirty things I put into it.

A better description of what this site is, is little white lies. A black lie is telling something that is false whereas a white lie is not telling the whole truth. I tell white lies daily here. I'm always trying to find the right balance of information to give.

A few years back, I lived with my cousin for a couple of months and we have always stayed in touch. Her children are like having little siblings. When I get the opportunity to hang out there and beat up on them I do. Recently their dog passed away which I understand can be traumatic but I was disturbed by what they did with him. Buddy resides on the mantelpiece, in an urn that contains his ashes and a lock of hair.

One good thing about living in rural Canada is that it is super cheap to rent DVD's, especially on 2-4-1 Monday, Tuesday and Wednesdays, which coincidentally are days that only bums like me can watch videos.

For the last 3 years I have carried this misnomer that when I would go up and kneel before the University Chancellor, President or Vice President adn receive my degree that some pearl of wisdom would be bestowed up me. I was waiting patiently for my turn among the 500 or so graduands and when the time came I was disappointed. No transfer of wisdom occurred, only a shake of the hand, an utterance of good luck and a query of "Are you proud"?

A side effect of traveling is that you never really know which country your in. This is why I got a confused look when I said 'grazie' to the clerk at the photo store. It's not the first time, it took me a couple days to switch languages in each new country.

So I'm back, what can I say but that it is good right now and I am happy to be back, but don't be surprised if in a few weeks I wish I were in Europe again. Right now I feel like there are so many things to get used to (Canadian money, breakfast that doesn't include Nutella and a baguette of some form, not wearing my life on my back, not being with my travel mate 24/7) and so many things I've missed. There is so much to say about the trip it's going to be hard, what actually happened never really made it to the site.

You'll have to excuse me I'm not at my best,

I've been gone for 2 months and I've been drunk since I left.

These so called vacation will soon be my death,

I'm so sick from the drink I need home for a rest.



Spirit of the West.

Today is the day. I am heading out a plane that is going to take me across the ocean for my first trans-atlantic crossing. I am going to try and make updates as frequently as possible but it's not my main priority. You can read up on everything here.



See ya in 50.

I'm finished at UW, it's over.

No more school.

No more books.

No more professor's dirty looks.



I made friends.

I made enemies.

I made mistakes.

I learned something, just not in the conventional text-book sense.

You can never go back to how things were, even if you wanted to. I went into my old work today for a few odds and ends and saw a ton of people I worked with. I was there for 5 years so we knew each other pretty well. I wasn't some bum off the street, but that's how it felt. All I got was a cursory glance and smile, the obligatory hello and standard small talk. It's frustrating to feel so out of it and less important than you once were. I walked into my home and didn't know anyone there.

The problem with some Canadian music channels is that they try to be American. Instead of playing the Junos last night so we could watch Sum41 et al, they played the MTV Music Awards. The only explanation I will accept is that CTV had the exclusive rights.

Kids minds are a terrible thing to waste and are definitely something that I don't understand, at least not yet. I went to a play that my sister directed on Friday, which was directed superbly. The kids were in J.K. to grade 8 and did their best and had dun. It just wasn't enough to win me over. Maybe when I am old and senile and don't recognize that I am slowly being brain-washed by the shiny moral put on display or when I have a kid and everything they do is perfect, I will appreciate the shows they put on. However, until then, I will enjoy myself by silently mocking parents that ogle their children and annoy everyone else with their flash photography, waving hands and encouraging gestures and make snide comments on how children wouldn't understand jokes about Survivor let alone make them.

People are very illogical. I am standing in line waiting for a friend to pay for her groceries and am scoping out all the available cashier lanes. One man walks buy and goes into the express lane which has no people in it. Another man directly behind him, but not associated with him, follows him instead of going in the other line where my friend is the only one in line and paying for her groceries as he passes. Another lady scoops up the poll position behind my friend and proceeds to bypass the second fellow. So the illogocial thing I don't understand is how people can think an occupied express lane is faster than an empty normal lane?

You know in Amelie and in the Matt Good Video where they steal the garden gnome and take pictures of it all over the world, I want to do that. The only problem is I am back-packing around Europe so I need something small, and preferably nonliving. I could steal my brother's iPod and add to this collection, but I want something more original. Any ideas?

A person who scores low on an IQ test is mentally retarded, but a person who scores above is a genius. Both are abnormal and freakish, but one is revered and the other frowned upon.

You can learn a thing or two from the institution you throw money at. As hard as they try to squander it on professors who make less sense than a thousand monkeys on a typewriter, they occasionally spend it on a prof that can teach. A prof who doesn't put students to sleep, who actually keeps them interested, who raises questions and keeps them coming back class after class.

There is a quota on this type of prof, it;s no more than 2 per faculty at UW.

My own stupidity is going to do me in someday. In my head I switched the dates of my CS exams. Thankfully I've avoided a minor catastrophe. It would have really sucked had I prepared for one final and ended up writing the other.

Our Lady Peace - Somewhere Out There. I am breaking the copyright laws over on the left.



last time i talked to you, lonely and out of place

you were lookin down on me, lost out in space

laid underneath the stars, strung out and feeling gray

watch the riddles glow, watch you float away

down in the atmosphere, garbage and city lights

I'm gonna save your tired soul

gonna save our lives

turn on the radio to find you inside my mind

i waited for the sky to fall, i'm waiting for a sign

all we are is all so far

you're falling back to me

the star that i can't see

i know you're out there, somewhere out there

you're falling out of reach

defying gravity

I know you're out there, somewhere out there

hope you remember me when you're homesick and need a change

I'll miss your purple hair, I'll miss the way you taste

I know you'll come back some day on the better days i wait

I'm praying that you don't burn out or fade away

and all we are is all so far

you're falling back to me

the star that i can't see

i know you're out there, somewhere out there

you're falling out of reach

defying gravity

i know you're out there, somewhere out there

you're falling back to me

the star that i can't see

but I know you're out there

you're falling out of reach

defying gravity

i know you're out there

somewhere out there

you're falling back to me

the star that I can't see

I know you're out there, somewhere out there...

falling out of reach

defying gravity

I know you're out there

somewhere out there

you're falling back to me

and I know

I know

you're falling out of reach

I know...

What are family obligations and where do you draw the line? I am going to go to the Netherlands for 5 or 6 days during my trip and there are many things to do and a finite amount of time to do them. I am going to stay a few nights with one cousin, but I never really thought about visiting all my other relatives. I have several relatives scattered around the country and only a handful I know. Some I have met once or twice at a family BBQ, but the rest I've never laid eyes on and now I am getting the impression that it's rude if I don't see them. It's become family politics and if I choose a few to visit I am somehow choosing favourites or saying one side of the family is better than the other. How do the actions of one person become the voice of a family?

I had this dream about going to visit my brother. I wasn't sure where he lived. My mother gave me a flight coupon and I got on the plane and was immediately followed by a family and their dog. The family wanted my seat because there was only floor room left. Then for some reason we got off and had to chase after the plane. It was taxiing to a small lawn runway about a kilometer down the street that weaved through a small forest. The street had a lane for planes and a lane for cars. We chased after it and were able to get on just in time after cutting through a gas station. I finally looked at my ticket to see where I was going, it was Calgary. Then I am Samual L Jackson and screen credits are rolling. I am in the movie, Critical Path.

This is what happens when you watch Pulp Fiction too late at night.

An amendment to the University of Waterloo Physical Activity Complex (PAC) Official Weight Room Rules & Regulations - It is suggested that with each repetition the patron make a grunting noise, increasing the intensity of each grunt until it emulates that of a smut star reaching climax.

I had my first appointment with Health Services in my entire 5 years here at UW yesterday. I had never been in the pale halls or small examining rooms of the building, I had only peered at it through it's reflective pond. It was a pleasant experience. The nurse I saw made the event fun, she joked around and gave me shit for not knowing where my immunization records were and for not getting sick in the last 5 years. Then as I was getting a shot she said, 'Oh yeah, this will sting a bit. I would have told you before, but I thought what's the point in telling you it's going to hurt.'

There was also one shot I didn't get because I need a prescription for it first. No matter how many times my mom made me play with people with chicken pox I refused to catch. Ever since, I have seen my lack of chicken pox as a defining characteristic of who I am. It makes me feel special; that somehow I am immune to it's harms. I am the next generation of humans.

UW blog meet 9pm tomorrow at Weavers. Be there and meet the kids on the UW playground.

Note to owners of Gracenote: BRAD Corp., although surely to be a huge conglomerate of companies some day can only do so much to benefit the world. That is why we are passing on this business opportunity to you. Your service already catalogues information on CDs and we would like you to go the extra step further and keep lyrics on file as well. This way I will be able to click on a track in iTunes and peruse the lyrics as I sing my heart out to it. This will be financially beneficial, which I leave as an exercise for the reader.

I'm restless. It's caused by a weird combination of work to do and no desire to do it. On one hand I feel like I have time to slack off but when I slack off I feel that I can't because I have work to do. The battle between the responsible self, the slacker self, and occasionally the silly self are in an endless cycle.



I have been stuck for a couple of days now. I will be until I am on that plane. The wonderful plane that will transport me away from this dull, predictable existence and take me to a new one full of uncertainty and exploration. We are in a constant conflict of safety and exploration. It's in out nature to explore but our need for safety keeps us grounded. Since childhood we have been trying to master the right combination of the two.

Waterlogged Camera Turns Magic This guy is one lucky bastard. A random disaster happened to my camera and the results weren't nearly as desirable.

Q: What makes Google so darn good?
A: PidgeonRank

Sweeps week continued in Church this morning. The minister made a comment/plea for the 'oncers and twicers' in attendance to come again. As I sat in my highly uncomfortable chair, the ones reserved for the tardy, I waited for some comment about lifers. It never came.

Self-censorship continues.

When you want to say something about a friend you just say what happened and no one really know which friend it was for sure. If you want to talk about a family member you have no choice but reveal the identity or not saying anything at all. The closest thing you could do is say a family member or replace it when a nice little anecdote about a friend, but it's too late for that now isn't it?

Leading cause of Brad not sleeping: Let's Go! Western Europe. The pesky side effect should fade upon completion of book or departure for trip, which ever comes first.

I've been corrected, it's not the Lonely Prince it's the Little Prince.

My imagination can occasionally run away from me. On my walk home a Fire Truck went by with it's piercing siren. It temporarily made me think about how much it would suck if it were my house that was on fire. Everything I own is basically in my little 8' x 10' room and would be impossible to replace. I would lose many things I care about. Then I became interested in whether or not I would still have to write finals. Yes I would have to write, the only way to not write is death. Damn school. Then I snapped out of it.

I love the way the mind works, sometimes it sends you on a little controlled trip when you are doing a boring task.

Today we were talking about which cartoons we watched when we were young. We were discussing Strawberry Shortcake when my friend turned to me and did the like song The Peculiar Purple Pie man from Porcupine Peak, Ra-ta-ta ta-ta-ta-taa. We thought it was the funniest thing ever and I still can't seem to get it out of my head.



When you are less than 5 years old there is no accounting for taste, here are few of the cartoons I remember watching.

Transformers

Gobots

Thundercats

Fables of the Green Forest

Jeremy the Bear

Strawberry Shortcake with my sister.

Lonely Prince - All I can remember from it was that the prince lived on a really small planet with a rose that was under glass.

Excitement is a natural stimulant, it kept me up for an extra hour and half of tossing and turning as a tried to lull myself to sleep. I was thinking of the exciting places I will be going, all the people I want to meet and how little time I am going to have to do it all. I was also thinking of how today I would slide a shiny piece of plastic over the counter to seal the deal with the travel agency and secure my place on a flight to London and a flight home from Madrid.



With ticket in hand, my biggest problem now is deciding where to go. It's a difficult choice because of limited time, so I nixed off countries that weren't convenient. My tentative list is England, (Ireland?), France, Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Italy, (Monaco?) and Spain.

Beware the hunter in this little game...

I am really hating MSN right now. They have had minor difficulties for over a week and am not telling me anything about it or when it will be fixed. The real pisser is that there is no (easy) place to bitch at them. How convenient for them.

This last weekend was great. It wasn't anything too special depending on your point of view. We stayed in on Friday and went out on Sunday, but I had the opportunity to see some different sides of people and connect with them in ways I haven't in a while. It's nice to chat and know that others feel the exact same way that you do.

Anti-Racism Day was yesterday, did you remember?

I think we are becoming over sensitive to our approach of race sometimes. I know I am, and I think my generation is tiptoeing around the subject too much. Today I was talking with a friend (who is Asian, not that it really matters) and he was describing someone as white. A look of panic flashed in his eyes as he took it back quickly and replaced it with the more politically correct caucasian. I was stunned at first but made fun of him for hurting my people. It was weird that he had changed his words, I didn't really think it was necessary.

Are we at the point where we can't even say white, black or brown? Why does it need to be replaced with formal politically correct words? Why so many rules? How is that a description of skin colour became a derogatory term?

I should have known something horrible was going to happen with Word. The sign was there, every time I typed delivery is came out devilry and no matter how many times I tried to fix the spelling it wold revert back to it’s evil self.

I've had the same recurring dream for years. It started when I went to University and although they are not identical they always have the same basic plot. I'm back home I realize that I never quit my job at Canadian Tire before I left for University They were still scheduling me in on Friday nights and Saturdays. I knew that I had to work and sometimes I would show up late all disheveled and other times I wouldn't go all because I forgot or had something better to do. The dreams always seem so real and I do all the things I used to do in Hardware, mix paint, make keys and chat with the other employees.

The one thing I never understood in the dream is why I was never fired for all the times I hadn't show up or been late.There was never even a mention of it from management. Isn't it logical that you fire irresponsible workers and keep the good ones. Why would they be stupid enough to keep me on? Why was I so stupid as not to quit when I left? And why oh why can I still remember product numbers?

Some more cancon, it appears that Rob is wearing a CBC T-shirt in today's Get Fuzzy.

Some women really find foreign accents sexy. They just about drop when sweet nothings are whispered in their ears in an English accent. They sometimes even swoon at the idea of it all. Is it the individual accent that makes them swoon or the fact that it is something different from the ordinary? I was hoping it was the difference, but upon reflection I am certain that women don't go to local middle-eastern owned stores to hear their owner's accents. This makes the former hypothesis the more probable one, and leaves me with one last question.



Will my Canadian accent drive European women crazy?

God and Devil.

Good and Evil.



I'm not sure why I never noticed the connection before. Which came first? Is one the derivative of the other or is it all just a coincidence?

How do you say sorry?

I read that Canadians say sore-y, and being Canadian that sounds right to me. The only other way I could think of was sar-y, is that the correct enunciation? (The funny thing is that you are probably saying sorry to yourself in many different ways and anyone within the immediate vicinity thinks there is something seriously wrong with you)

As my excitement level grows so do my doodles.

What does the music you listen to say about you? Some people only listen to rock or pop or country or house or [insert genre here]. If you listen to many different genres does that make you a more tolerant person, a person who experiences a range of emotions, a flexible person or a person who experiments? If you listen to one specific type without any deviation does that make you single minded or emotionally stunted?

If I've learned anything in my short life it's that anticipation is a key ingredient to the success of many events. Without it honey wouldn't taste as sweet and that is why I am going to be writing about my trip even though it is 2 months in advance.



I able to successfully check off the first item on my list, my passport. I thought it would be a painful process because of bad ID pictures, trips to government offices on cold rainy days and a 4 week waiting period. I had it in less than two weeks and is a concrete sign that this trip is going to happen.

A good trip has to start some where. It can be a whim, a desire that you want to bring to life, a place you want to go, an opportunity to reflect on your life, or symbolic of some momentous occasion that you are about to embark on or just plain fun. I'm not sure what my trip is mainly going to be except that I hope it has it all.



I'll have completed by undergrad at UW in less than 2 months and to celebrate it I am going to go on a trip. A grand trip, the kind that you write about and later on you will remember it just as vividly as it had been when you were there. You'll be able to remember the contours of all the faces, the motion of the train, the smell of the air, and the feeling of excitement as you embark on a new adventure.



I'm going to Europe in the time between my last exam and the pomp and circumstance of convocation. It will be awesome, and I'll try to preserve my experience here for you but mostly for me so years from now I can relive it when I am old and can no longer go to far off places.

Not only do my web stats give me information they also answer my questions. This weekend I was watching Trading Spaces and I thought to myself 'are they lesbians?' and now I think they are because someone was looking for 'lesbians on trading spaces'.



side note: The spellchecker thinks lesbian is correct, but not lesbians. Maybe it thinks there is only one in the world.

Just taking time to regenerate.

Not much really happening except school, homework, meetings, weavers and rumours of suicide on campus (unfortunately everything I have heard is coming true).

Mila + John.

There it was scrawled in the top of the wooden table where we were sitting. Nothing to hide it, it was out there to be seen. There for every patron to gawk at and trace with their finger. Management had not made any attempts to hide or discourage it. No janitor had cursed it during its removal or wished its disappearance. Perhaps it is "the" public display of affection (PDA).

After seeing it, my mind kept drifting back to it all night with many questions. Who is Mila? Who is John? Who etched it in the table? Did he do it while she watched or vice versa? Are they still together or was it over before/after/during the etching of it in the table. Do they come back and visit their table? Is it love? I hope so, if not the world is covered with broken promises.

More big city fun last night, nothing too outrageous. It was a cultural experience as we listened to 3 writers read short stories or excerpts from them. Each writer had a different theme and presentation as they tried to convey their thoughts to the audience. It was good to listen in the dark bar as visualizations formed in our heads and memories were triggered by the action of the stories.

It awoke my imagination and a challenge was given to me, The New Quarterly who hosted the event and publishes Canadian works wants to put together a collection of stories that each have the same title Bad Men who Love Jesus. (the site is really out of date but it may be updated with the new info by the time you write your story)

This funny little comic tries to make some parallels between Steve Jobs and Jesus. Both use their powers to save us, one from Bill Gates and the other from the Devil (arguably Bill Gates in some circles)

This song is stuck in my head, will it stick to yours? (it's in the nav bar for a limited time, how long or short that it is I can't say)



Sense Field - Save Yourself



turn out the light

just say goodnight, to yourself

may I remind you

when you find you, you're all alone is when you've got to be strong

cause that's when they call you, in the night

he's got your picture in his mind

he's got your number on a paper at his disposal anytime



is it really true

could you save yourself for someone who, loves you for you

so many times we just give it away, to someone who

someone who you

met in bar

the back of a car

and for a moment you felt important but not in your heart

my self esteem, it's been low, go ahead and count it's been lower than low

i know the feeling of it stealing life out from under me

i want to learn, how you save yourself for someone who, loves you for you

so many times we just give it away to someone who, couldn't even remember your name

could you save yourself for someone who, loves you for you, loves me for me

give it away to someone who someone who will cherish your name



cause I want to learn, can you save yourself for

someone who will love you for you so many times we

just give it away, someone who, couldn't even remember your name

you save yourself for someone who, loves you for you,

loves me for me

give it away to someone who, someone who will

cherish your name

cherish your name