SvenCentral: Santa's New Ride

SvenCentral: Santa's New Ride, in case you need something to do today.

Canada deems P2P downloading legal | CNET News.com

Canada deems P2P downloading legal | CNET News.com A new levy of up to $25, which sucks, but better than the rumoured 20% of the capacity which could double the price of a spool of CDs.

Random Gym Thought - Why do women wear those lycra body suits and then squeeze a thong on overtop of it? It seems like it defies natural low by not traveling into some deep unmentionable crevice.



Random Gym Thought - I know it's not funny, and I shouldn't be subscribing to stereotypes, but that guy has to be gay. Look at the way he is running, with his wrists bent like that. That, and he runs like a girl.

RollingStone.com

RollingStone.com Steve Jobs Interview

How much is digital music worth? | CNET News.com

How much is digital music worth? | CNET News.com On a side note, why is news.com, news.com.com?

I think it's wrong to feel guilt about harassing phone solicitors, but I still feel a pinch of it.



Solicitor: Is Mr or Mrs Blah Blah there?

Me: No.

Solicitor: When would be a good time to call back?

Me: Never! They don't live here, don't ever call back again.

Me: (slams down phone)

Nothing makes you feel more like a criminal than painting your bedroom. I woke up one morning with the resolve to do it, but unsure if I was exactly allowed to. Apartments usually have funny rules such as don't paint and no holes in the walls. I know everyone breaks the latter one, so why not the first. I still felt guilty though and hoped no one would spy me walking up to the building with my paint supplies and go running the Super to tell him what I was up to. All said and done, a little colour in my space has improved things. All that's left to do is break into the apartment next door and turn down that bloody alarm clock.

maybe this christmas too

maybe this christmas too Am I the only one to think it's a little strange that Avril Lavigne and Chantal Kreviazuk sing a duet on O Holy Night? It's seems so wrong somehow. Wrong in the sense that if the two were to actually touch, the world would implode.



Filter Magazine sort of agrees on the whole Avril thing.

If you get an answering machine and you realize you don't have the right number, you don't leave a message right? Because, after all isn't it obvious that when you reach the voicemail of Brad and you meant to reach Ethan you have the wrong the number. I mean, it's not that hard. Especially if you speak Spanish and you get an answer machine of someone who speaks English. So to the person or persons who insist on leaving messages on my machine in another entire dialect that I do not communicate it. Please stop, you have the wrong number.

TDIs Fuel Diesel Obsessions A friend passed this on to me today, and although I have an addictive personality, I am proud to say it's not this bad.

A man brought me mail today. It was a replacement remote for my iPod; the cables became exposed on the old one and it no longer functioned. I put my claim in after 5 pm yesterday. It arrived in the mail today at 1pm. That is less than 24 hours. The end. Can you say exceeded expectations.

iTunes Undermines Social Security  A lot of people try to be cooler than they are through their playlist. I have no idea why they think this a new phenomena, I couldn't tell you a single person who lived in res during the roots movement of the mp3 craze, that didn't have bad music, especially by poppy phenoms like Britney Spears. That's all there was. Some of you may not remember, but back in the day before iTunes, Napster or Kazaa we had to scour the internet for ftp servers to download from. And more often than not in order to download we had to upload something. This was a long tedious process but we did it anyway just to screw over the RIAA. It makes me laugh and think of our parents telling us they walked to school in blizzards and uphill both ways.

Dining out at hot spots is fun, but you may become hungrier for star sightings than the actual food. Fortunately for me Sotto Sotto had an great menu filled with Italian delight, someone else paying the bill, and a star roster with Lorne Michaels from SNL on it. It's up to you if he's and A, B or C list star. I just don't understand people's obsessions with famous people. Maybe I am just a heartless bastard unmoved by the glance in my general direction by some teen heart throb or scream queen. I mean why should I care about them anymore than I do about the girl who serves me a latte. If anything I should like the latte girl more, she is fulfilling some need I have, which I way more than I can say for the likes of the average famous person. Let's look at a brief sample of famous people.



Celine Dion = Great Pain

Mariah Carey = Music Inducing Vomiting = Great Pain

Keanu Reeves = Action followed by Horrible Dialogue = Great Pain

Famke Jansen = Smoking Hot = Jealous Girlfriend = Great Pain



I'll leave the proof as an excercise to the reader, but as you can see stars can only privde great pain and thus should be ignored. QED.

Jack into my iPod This article has been linked to many times, but I thought it was still worth mentioning. The longer I own my iPod the more I realize that iPod owners are more cultish than Mac owners. There isn't a single person who owns an iPod that can't identify someone else using one at a hundred paces.

Here's some help if you are trying to fannagle an iPod out of you parents for the Holidays.

So funny, you'll cry. GiJoe voiceover clips courtesy of pete. The skier one is the funniest.

I think the cycle is beginning again. There is a time when movies are good and then there is a time when movies are bad. The last good movie I saw was Runaway Jury. It was good, but I had issues with some of the changes from the book. I can just picture the writers meeting... the gun industry is the new tobacoo industry... this needs a little sex in it... what can we do to make the characters more likeable? Then I saw Matrix: Revolutions. What the revolution is I don't really know. Maybe that Hollywood is the best marketer of them all, or that they had to leave a clear door open for another movie in the franchise or that poor Neo is one of the dullest bulbs around and can't fatham anything that is happening to him. I need to take a break from these big budget action movies. Perhaps I should focus more on the T'n'A movies.



The Matrix Regurgitated - A nice little article about what is wrong with big hollywood movies.

The craziness has all begun. With the wedding (that reads not my wedding) less than 48 hours to go emotions are running high. The bride is very hyper with much energy, not sure if it's nervous or not, to spend on anything. She suggested running around the block naked. We had to talk her out of it.



Rent-a-Tux's are picked up and 'tailored' to fit. I use the word tailered loosely because I am positive I could gain a hundred pounds over night and still fit into my tux, all I would have to do is change a couple of tabs in the pants. These things are super crazy adjustable, but still better than a bride's maid dress.

At the end of the day I sell computers. How glamourous is that? It's nice to say though, puts everything in its place. I don't know why people get so emotionally involved in their jobs. It's understandable if you work in some lab and are curing some disease and with one slip they could wipe out the population. They have a lot to invest, but think of the joy felt when they achieve a goal.



Am I really going to feel that much better about myself if my company sells more or less. Not at all. It's hard to get emotionally invested. This must be why companies make you financially invested with their stock options and performance bonuses. Without those, who would care. Except the few of who feel satisfied by a job well done.

Verbal Diarrhea...



There seems to be so much going on and somehow that's my excuse for not posting something. I had a conversation last night that we should all take the time to reflect on what we are thankful for. There are a lot things to be thankful for everyday, they just get over shadowed by the things that are bugging us. Keeping them out of view. It would be nice to take the time to talk about these thing, but it won't happen. No one really wants to read about someone's perfect life. They prefer to have a little if not loads of conflict, but then again there are other people who no matter how good they have it in life think that there's sucks and they are in some sort of personal Hell. It's time for all of to wake up and shake up. Familiarity breeds contempt and I feel a lot of that these days. I am glad that I am in the middle of my shake down, new people in my life, a new position at work and a new place to call my own. These things are all happening, and it's up to me to accept them with some grace and excitement. Time to let some new in, and if the old ain't working let's get rid of it.



I think the first time I heard Jack Johnson I wasn't a big fan. It all sounded the same. Similar to how all asian people may look the same to white people, and all white people may look the same to asians. You just need to take the time to get past the similarity to notice the nuances.

If you haven't been watching the adventures of Star Wars Kid, you haven't been supporting the net. I've noticed that periodically, we as a community must come together to create something out of nothing, and spread it faster than the nothing that we had spread before it. Star Wars Kids iS the latest phase, but one of the funniest, perhaps better than all your base belong to us. This thing is so unbelievably cool that we showed it during our conference presentation. That's some real power! Go check out the original and SWK 2.0!

I don't think I have ever been quite so restless in my life as I've been these last few weeks. Seems like most of the time I'm am antsy two year old waiting for something to do. Trash TV isn't filling the void like it used to and now that we have a new season of shows to choice from I feel like I should boycott them all or I'll end up a slave to the TV. It's time for a change and since that doesn't appear to be happening at work any time soon it has to be something else. I changed my hair, that hasn't helped much. The effects have all worn off.



Could it be? Have I climbed Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs and now I am ready for self-actualization? Nah.

Quarter Life Evolutionary Moment #313: Back in the third grade I was playing with one of those balls. You know the kind that make the great boing noise. It must have been Kick Ball or King's Court, which I personally rocked at. The ball went flying for some reason I don't recall right now, and hit a seventh grade girl. Apparently she was very fond of her nails and had broken one in her efforts to block the ball. To convey her extreme distaste with the situation she pushed me to ground an called me some name.



What did I do? Nothing I was a lowly third grade and she was an all powerful seventh grader. What should I have done? Picked up the ball and hurled it with all my might until everyone of those nails were broken and she looked the like the trailer park trash she was. After all she was already sporting heavy blue hooker eye shadow.

zug.com: link was discovered by the girlfriend. Lots of fun pranks to read. Personal favorites are the iTunes call to Apple to support the windows version, paying tolls with 2 fifty cent stickers and signing credit cards.

Memoirs of a bitter 25 year old who wishes he could have changed things

Resolutions to problems that happened in the last 25 years

How I could have handled things differently over my last quarter century

Living with a quarter life crisis

If only I had the balls to say that at the time

Regrets and possible solutions

Quarter Life Evolutionary Moments



Coming Soon

Random Link

Wired 11.10: How Ravenous Soviet Viruses Will Save the World: Interesting read... mental note, maybe one of the remaindered link thingies would be cool.

I've been working too much, and my phone etiquette has gone right out the door. I never answer with 'eddie's crack house' or 'yvette's r'n't' or 'yo' anymore. I love those crazy phrases, the ones that you save for when you know who's calling. I am all corporatized (it's a word now) and only stray from my name to hello as my daily greetings. How imaginative is that? The most excitment I get now is when I change my daily voicemail and get to say 'have a super weekend' or something equally lame, knowing that it's polite and that anyone who is in the know will know that it really means, go get shit faced this weekend and tell me the dirty stories later. The other terrible terrible side affect is I can't break the habit of hitting 9 to dial out no matter what phone I'm on.

Everything you wanted to know about the F word but were always to afraid to ask... here

Could someone please hit pause! Life's running a little fast these days and I am running out of time to catch up to it let along write something witty about it.

I drove down to Chicago for a wedding. Somehow everything seems different. All weddings before this didn't really mean as much. This one was significant. It affected somebody my life has been entwined with since birth. This one mattered.



It's was a joyful and sad experience all at once. It's sad that things I could once depend on are no longer there. They've been relegated to the back of my mind for future viewings. Thoughts of childhood. Thoughts of knowing that as much as you want to share your life with those around you now, only those who were there can truly appreciate it's impact on your development. It made me happy to see that life is progressing. I never wanted to be mature, as if that meant I couldn't have fun. Now I think of mature as just being a single word that means life has happened to you. A twelve year old girl with leukemia is more worn out by life than some 25 years old.

Who are you and why are you in my establishment? Is probably what the nice Lebanese man thought as he seated 11 white people and their token brown friend. It's always nice to get a glimpse into other cultures. It started harmless enough with the desire to see belly dancing. A friend made the reservation and we should have gotten the clue when they called back to verify that Fish, party of 12, did intend on showing up to the 10 pm 'party'.



We showed up at 10, our first mistake of many. It didn't fill until around 11:30 but until then we had bottomless appetizers to munch on and the house band and singer to entertain. Not that we knew what was happening because it was all in a different language (Incidentally, the only english spoken at the restaurant was to tell someone they had left the lights on in their black topaz). It was probably a raring rendition of who are those white people. A lot of people danced 11:30 on, in either the belly dancing style or chain style, which seemed like line dancing, with mysterious rules dictated by a spinning a chain. There were a lot of MILFS in the crowd.



At 1 am the meal was served and desert was a fabulous belly dancer. The thing we had been waiting for so patiently. She could gyrate like nobodies business and commanded the attention of the audience. She worked the room bringing up old and young men to dance with her. The old man shook his booty while the young stud was too cool and stood still clapping. At the end I was determined that they had been playing the same song the whole night.



It's nice to dabble in other cultures, sort of felt like I was traveling again or showed up at a wedding reception I hadn't been invited to.

It was probably one of the best social experiments that have happened in recent times. Turn off the power for a massive percentage of the population and record what kind of chaos ensues. It's going to take a while, but I have the preliminary results right here.



People are stupid:

1) I was driving and laughed my ass of as I saw an annoyed driver sitting behind a streetcar waiting for it to move. News flash buddy, they don't move when the power is out.

2) The morning after when we are suppose to be conserving water, the neighbour is spraying down his driveway. When called out about his stupidity his retort is 'ah, I can use a little to spray. want me to spray you. ha ha'



Deprivation can build a community - probably one of the only times it is acceptable to talk to anybody without getting the hard cold Toronto stare. It was weird to feel such a sense of well being. Strangers were directing traffic, while other strangers were feeding them and the police water and food.



We're a bunch of commercial bastards - some idiots upped the price of water and jacked up the price of gas. They'll probably get it in the end.



And so many more things than I can analyze...

Punch-Drunk Love - intense, strange, weird, out of left field, what just happened?, I need a break this is too much, moral - never call a sex line because bad things will happen



American Wedding - funny, did they just do that?, i guess you can say they have all body products covered sufficiently now, weird evil twins, moral - even the biggest of pricks have the softest of hearts, and everyone wants to have sex with stifler

Because I thought you could use a laugh...why stick people are extinct

BLOGGER

This morning I learned that at 8:45 am on the second floor of the parking garage at one of my offices there is a black SUV that rocks. It carries two passengers, but they don't sit in the front set. They curiously in the back doing what some onlookers have characterized as a crazy new form of calestetics.



This afternoon a yellow convertible mustang came around a corner at 160 km\h. When is spotted a car turning left it slammed on it's brakes, spun around a couple of times, hit the curb, drove into a tree causing it to flip over landing ass up. It made a sound like an elephant that was heard throughout the office. Everyone jumped up and ran to the window and stayed there as emergency crews arrived.



Some of the best and worst things happen in cars.

Not wanted in the canoe

Then there is Labour Day. The period leading up to that long weekend, also known as Your Last Chance, is fraught with worry and distraction. Some say not having a cottage for Labour Day is akin to being dateless on New Year's Eve.



Maybe it's time I start enforcing the rule; no more friends in the friends group unless they have direct access to a cottage.

Why would you deliver pool chemicals to a bar? I don't know either but I did it last night in my dream. I was fantastically drunk at a bar. It was exactly like Madison House with all the hidden rooms and patios to drink on. As I walked around I realized that I knew everyone at the bar. People I went to school with, worked with or met randomly (while drinking at a bar in Barrie where I preceeded to say 'Wazzup!' until the entire bar was going it), were gallivanting around. But then I was sober driving a big rig around town with my sister. I had a mission, I had pool chemicals to deliver to the pub. Why would a pub need pool chemicals? I kept getting lost and having to back up the rig without much luck. When I finally made it to the bar, all the friends I had been drinking with opened up the back door and unloaded the chemicals in an assembly line fashion placing them neatly in the back.

Last week I dragged myself out to the Digital Gun Awards at the old distillery district with a couple of buddies. It was well worth it, even if it is just to silence my lamenting that there is nothing to do. But, in a place as vaste as TO, I should be saying, I am too lozy to do anything.



Can you make a digital short in 3 days? Can you do it under the gun? But, when they tell is it is much more flashy and edited along the lines of Guy Richie to really hook you. This year's them was cars, last year's was missing in spain. Out of the 11 shorts, there was a couple I hated and a couple I loved. The district is definitely worth a visit again before next years awards.

Since we are on the topic and all... In an ultimate show down sort along the lines of celebrity boxers between the UW Web Ring and the Live Journal UW interest group, the clear winner would be the UW Web Ring. But, who knows what will happen with all these factions that seem to be popping up with various sponsors. Before you know it blog Gangs will have to identify themselves by wearing the same bright colours and settle disputes behind MC under the cover of darkness.

Help! I am 24 years old and I seem to be morphing into a crotchety old man right before my eyes. Sure my face may still have some of it's baby soft exuberance left to it, but hidden beneath that layer is a hardened old man who wants nothing more than to live in solitude. Live alone on an island of his own making. A place to turn and run to when he wants nothing to do the with the outside world.



It's getting hard not to notice how much older I've become. This weekend I went camping with a large crowd group. And I know this may seem petty and bitchy but I am sure that at some point or another everyone thought the same thing. I want this my way. I am no longer that elastic little 19 year old willing to be dragged along with the crowd merely because I was apathetic to the cause. I just wanted to be a part of something. Now as the crowd moves along I try to see my way out. Try to build a plan. I see images of myself pulling out a soapbox, standing upon it and screaming emphatically It's okay if we don't want all to do the same thing! until everyone around me realizes that this is meant to happen. We can always reconvene later. And really, isn't that what life is all about?

Weekend Quote: 'There's three things I hate in this world, disposable diapers, disposable batteries and iceberg lettuce'.

It was nice to be drunk, feeling like i haven't been able to reach that level for sometime. Something had held me back before, but this time the beer was going down smooth. Perhaps it was the embarrassment at Hooters that got me started. I was expecting the breast cleavage, but not the bum cleavage. Pretty much something was hanging out every which way you looked and as I was being served they were hurled in my face so I was forced to look.



The night progressed with a walk to another dive for more beers, but on the way we had to make a stop to listen to the taunts of 'You're Ugly!' by an old lady we had declined to pass along a donation too.



By this point, I remember less but have flashbacks of sitting in a pub while an old lady who I think would resemble Ms Havisham from Great Expectations performed folk songs while an old age home escapee accompanied on the keyboard. His face lacked any expression at all having been deprogrammed. I sang loudly. So loud in fact by the time Que Sera Sera came along I had lost my voice.



Binge drinking may have depleted my electrolytes, but it certainly infused moral.

When the cat meows at the door, jumps up to try and turn the knob to signal that he desperately wants out and I sit there and do nothing does he think that:


a) I am a mean bastard for not letting him out

b) I am stupid and do not understand his instructions

c) He is stupid because he cannot communicate that he wants out

Anyone want to lend me a million dollars so I can live on the interest? It's not that I don't like working, but sometimes it's all just too much. I am nearing my saturation point for company politics and dumb vendor events. Now that I have six months under my belt I feel like the time has come to make a few waves and not be so idle. Time to yell at that person who refuses to get back to me even though I have sent them 3 notes and CCed the entire world on it, or give beats to the person who says it's not my job, or not attend dumb events where I stand beside my corporate logo waiting for reps to talk to me, knowing the whole time they don't care about a thing I have to say. This all leads me to a much bigger question to those that have been in the workforce for ten or more years. How did you make it? Why didn't you crack? Or did you just conform and become one of those people. Maybe you just got a nice hobbie instead.

I guess it is possible from Britney Spears to be someone's personal hero.



I'm sort of freaked out, The Simpsons just sang 'O Canada' and formed a maple-leaf.



Fox is following in City TV's footsteps and is carrying Banzai!

It must suck to be a band and play corporate events. Either Treble Charger really likes playing the corporate crowd or is in dire need of a cash influx. I doubt the latter bseeing as Greg Nori has had his hand in Sum 41 and Avril Lavigne's careers. I went up front with a buddy from work and as I looked around all I could see were the pained faces of young people who would like nothing better to do than run to the nearest bar, down 3 beers and head back to the stage and mosh it up a bit. Instead we all stood there taking it as far as we could, we tapped our toes, bobbed our heads and when the occasion called for it, shook a fist.

When I grow up, I hope I am not one of those people. The kind who can't convey a simple message without making themselves sound superior. For example if you were talking about a Keg Party and they retorted along the lines that they are past that, but do it such a way that belittles you and make it sound like you are some infantile frat boy. I hate those people. If that happens to me I should make fun of them. Call them old and say how much fun I am having and that they wished they could be as carefree as I am, but they can't because they are too busy counting their wrinkles and calculating boob sag.

Life is full of little advertisements for the future. If a park is an ad to have children, the zoo is an ad to not have children. As I walked around the Toronto Zoo last week examining the Naked Mole Rats scurrying in their little tunnels, walking all over one another; polar bears who chomp down on cantaloupes and silly orangoutangs who play peek-a-boo with old sheets. I had to stare at equally amusing parents with their kids. Parenting didn't look like very much fun; all day long they had to walk around with two wagons trailing behind them, one for the kid and the other fir the kid's stuff. And it seemed like the kid would start crying every time an animal looked at it funny or the parent refused to carry the kid another minute longer having exhausted themselves from doing it for the three previous hours. All in all it didn't look to fun.

The cats are giving me a dazzling display of Kitty Porn right. Cleo's licking Orion's face as he stares at me looking extremely disaffected.



Six years must really make a difference. A whole generation of 30 year olds fall haphazardly in that gap between their age and us 25 year olds. A gap where they have no clue who Radiohead is and whether or not they are a good band. A generation full of singles who listen to Celine Dion and think that little Justine Timberlake is a real cutie. A gaggle on the verge of becoming old an cynical. A pride morphing from Puma to Cougar.

The best part of my run is when I make it back to the house and I sit on the porch. My mind and body totally exhausted and shut down. No more thoughts, just some humming or singing as I follow the song that randomly comes up on my iPod. Running is good for the body and soul. By the end I have analyzed something for all that it's worth and am ready to move on.



More reasons to love apple were released today.

I feel like I either have the greatest luck or misfortune when it comes to observing other drivers. It seems that every time I spot a camero it's being driven by Billy Ray and for some reason unbeknownst to me he's doing it without a shirt on. And as I drive by our eyes meet and I try to turn away but I am stuck staring down a stereo type at 120 clicks as both cars whirl down the QEW. Moments later two NInja motorcycles whirl by with their shirts flapping in the wind, symbolically saying Fuck You. Then I see that sporty new Japanese car, complete with a little Japanese hottie. She smiles as I go by, too timid to actually make her car perform.

Did the last season of Buffy leave you with more questions? You better look here to answer them so as your head does not explode from all the inconsistencies you just haven't figured out. Also don't think about Anya and the bunnies because that reason is as dead as she it.

It was a total Seinfeld moment, unless you relate better to Friends. Have you ever seen the episode where Ross moves into a new apartment and then his neighbors ask him for money for a party for some guy he doesn't even know... I was sitting in my weekly meeting and a card was passed around for a co-worker that's leaving and I really had no choice but to sign it and chip my $10 even though I've never had a conversation with the person that leaving. What could I have done, if I hadn't of chipped in I would have been a social outcast like Ross.



See, TV is good for something!

This clothing rant just won't die. I wish I could rip it out of my personality like the rotting piece of flesh that it is, but it's destine to stay and fester every time I am put to the test of purchasing clothes. Today I tried to buy pants and the store only had 1 style that were non-pleated. I tried these on in my size, but my thighs didn't fit, because you know, I have huge thighs. Then I tried the size that fit my thighs but they were big enough for another person to live in. My simples question is this, what does the person look like who supposedly fits in these pants?

Offices are formal and stingy unless somehow you manage to work for a company that no one bothered to tell that .com was out and right sizing was in. Sometimes I walk around and don't really recognize myself. It just doesn't seem natural. You walk around in clothes you don't like and have to be ultra poltical in everything you say and write. I guess I just have to accept that it's time to throw out the sweaters and bring in the collared shirts and to replace ttyl beotch with kind regards.

As I sit here; the sun flickers on my bed as it passes through the fresh green leaves on the trees; Orion, gives his orange fur a furious tongue bath, showing on his incredible flexibleness and strangely mocking me with because he knows I cannot even touch my toes; my iPod plays random music going from salutary summer tunes to steel cased rock rifts by a band with 'the' in their title.



Everything happens so quickly and when it's over all I can say is my, that went by quickly. Exponentially so, but that must be an indication that I am enjoying myself for the greater part of the hole. No longer am I waiting for something to happen, because it is. And because it is, other things get pushed to the side. Things I had time for and did like a Rock Star are on the wayside. Case in point. I can't surf the web anymore. I can't last more than 15 minutes. What happened to all the content out there? It shriveled up and died and now the net seems void and spotted with decaying sites. It's terrible state has zapped the creativity from me.

Some people take real time in creating there ads. This Honda one takes the cake with it's 4 months to create and shoot.

One thing that has been growing increasingly tiresome these last weeks is being the youngest one on the team at work. I'm back in grade nine or in public school and all you hear is the older kids picking on you like you know nothing and that their lives are so much tougher and oh so much more important. These people give lectures on being older like they earned the right somehow because they happen to pop out of their mother's womb 5-10 years earlier than I thought too. Let's have a parade for them. We can line up a ton of bitter 30 somethings who have become increasingly selfish and carry the burden of never meeting their own expectations of themselves.



I better watch out before I turn into that person. I'm probably one horrific scarring experience away. Do they know how unbearable they are to be around sometimes?

Is this how you feel about your iPod?

I was told that there would be a lot of sex in the Matrix Reloaded. And, although I appreciated this as any male would. I couldn't help but be slightly disappointed at the lack of matrix sex. I mean, isn't there a demand for such a thing. Has no entrepreneur come forward to advance the level of porn to bullet time porn, complete with slow motions and panning camera angles.

A new triptych from the gondola. Actually it's from the back of the hotel I was staying at. I haven't been able to regain my composure since I returned from my trip. I can't sleep enough.

Wha Happened?



I've haven't been having enough fun.



I've been hearing this stupid radio commercial too much that starts off with "Monday, I like Mondays. Monnnnndddddaaaay" and proceeds like that for 30 seconds. There is a new version for each day and I find this more tortuous than Britney Spears with a drum machine.



I've been encoding all my audio CDs so I can put them on my new 30g iPod. I love it so much. It rivals my love for my Jetta. Put the two on the table and I wouldn't know which one to pick. Is it better than Jesus? I like the remote it comes with. I read somewhere that it was awkward, I clip it to the bottom of my shirt so it is horizontal. Isn't that how it's meant to be?



I've been working really hard in the greenhouses on the weekends for my parents. One day I woke up at 5:30am and worked until 10pm.



I've been trying to figure out what the hell I want, when will I have time to do it and is it possible.



I've been having weird dreams.



I've been spammed

The difference between 4 and 24.



When you're 4 and your fish dies, your parents replace it and feign ignorance when you ask why Lord Flanders is pink and red now instead of red and purple.



When you're 24 and your fish dies, your parents let it sit and fester at the bottom up the tank and watch as it's colour slowly fades and it becomes one with the universe.

Life can be frustrating when you want to do one thing but are bound by another. When you have time to travel you don’t have the money, and when you have the money you won’t have the time. Nothing seems to be falling in place for me like it used to, on the bright side I am getting used to disappointment and the notion that you can’t have it all. The current can’t have, is a place all to myself. It’s just not in the salary and my free arrangements have run there course so I am moving. It worked out in a strange way. Friends of mine need money and have space; I need space and have money. What better reason is there?

Did you ever notice that at the end of every Cosby Show, Heathcliff was putting the moves on Claire. They were a very horny couple for a family show in it's time.

Every genre has it's place. I often complain about big budget Hollywood movies, mostly because they're crap and filled with actors full of imitation body parts and a teaspoon of charisma. But have you ever asked yourself what if there were no big budget movies? Where would we get T'n'A from? How would we escape reality? How could else could perfectly normal people be vaulted to stardom?



I saw X2 on Friday night. It plays by most of the big budget action rules; minimal plot, copious destructions, innumerable battles, beautiful people (Mmmm, Famke) and always always leave the door open for the next installment. I wouldn't of have had it any other way. Movies like these are as infectious as shot of heroin. After having watched X2, I was downright giddy on my way out having had healthy doses of the aforementioned T'n'A, action and wishing I was an X-Man.

Ugh. Don't you hate it when things aren't just quite right and you are spinning your wheels because you just don't know how to fix it. I need a home. A space to call my own. Somewhere to play music loud. Have my stuff. Stuff if good.



Although my living situation is gratis, it's not my space and the longer I stay here the more I feel like I am smack in the middle of people's lives I have no business being in the middle in. It's also tough kissing ass all the time. How long can it last before you tell them to stop complaining about the shoes in the ----ing hall and to turn off the ----ing tv when they leave the room.

Must. Have. It.

Exciting things never happen much. Each day I grow a little older and do something a little odder in a vain attempt to remain youthful and fun. My efforts seem half-assed and fully unrealized. Time in the park today, was spent eating ice cream, looking at fish, poking dead fish with sticks, walking the tracks, climbing into abandoned tree-houses and throwing stones at trees. I am convinced this is the equivalent of being old and bald, sitting on a park bench with a giant bag of bread crumbs and feeding the geese.



I don't party like I used to, I don't abuse substances. I keep it within in limits because I want to drive. For some reason now that we are older we need to have a home base to come back too. In Uni crashing on someone's floor was as simple as passing out, now it involves blow up mattresses, pillows and sleeping attire. Does growing up mean you just stop doing things in excess?

The side effects can be a little crazy sometimes. I woke up at 5 to the ringing of my phone. Someone had decided to call 3 times in a row without leaving a message. By the time I awoke from my self induced coma I figured out it was my brother. The problem with people calling you at 5am, 2am in San Francisco, is you think something is wrong so you should call back. I did and with in matter of seconds my first question was "Are you drunk, stoned or high'. Then we had a half hour conversation about things my brother had to tell me and ended with a lot of "I love you's", right out of a bad beer commercial. This conversation was followed up by another call an hour later of the same sort and then a final call at noon to apologize for the first two calls.

Note to Spammers: If you are going to Spam me, as I expect you will, could you at least spell things correctly.People may want to add 'inches and stamina', but not 'inches and stmaina'.

It's not a good idea spending too much time staring at your odometers. Even if they periodically match up because the trip odometer cycles through values of the car odometer. You should probably keep an eye on the road. Especially since the OPP hover around the 407 like vultures looking for prey. Good thing you were looking at your odometer because you slowed down enoght that the other guy got pulled over.

I made the mistake of going shopping last night ->

- I am too tall for regular stores

- I am too small for big and tall stores

- I don't fit in anywhere

- Why do women like shopping so much? After trying on clothes I would imagine that a person could be left feeling defeated and unusually fixated on body image issues.

Lately my mind has been full of thoughts. It's been a year since I finished school. Back then I was excited about going on a trip, but what am I excited about now? Life has taken a 360+ and I am not sure what direction I am heading anymore, or what I even want.



Family gatherings are S&M events in my book. They're definitely painful with their rewards. Most of the time I just like to sit and keep my mouth shut and hope for an insightful conversation to come my way. Mostly because I have nothing to say and prefer to keep them from being all up in my business. I thought I was this close (wild hand movement here) to leaving the event without having to do a full press briefing on my life, but I got caught at the last second by my Aunt and her all encompassing "How's your love life?".

I just ended what was arguably the longest and most taxing day of work yet. I left early, knocked off 3 training presentations, did a scavenger hunt, hosted a lunch, random chance encounters in the afternoon and ended it all by hosting another dinner complete with 'spring basket' prizes (we try to be as critically correct as possible).



I would never in a million years thought this is what I would be doing with my CS degree. I thought I would actual work with a product or something.

It's tough being the guy who has all the crazy dreams because when you tell people about them, they don't think they are funny, they think they're a sure sign of full blown craziness and now is the time to notify the authorities.



I was on a trip with all of my old high school. Everywhere I turned there were familiar faces and every time I said 'Look at those assholes, what are they doing here?', one of my friends would retort, they've changed, they're good guys now". I didn't quite believe them, but went about the museum anyway, examining the treasure in it's nooks and crannies.



At one point we all went out to the top of the parking garage to hang out and take a break. Sitting in a giant circle we talked about whatever. I looked over and saw 8 scattered funnels of wind and freaked out; pointing and screaming that tornados were on the way. We gathered quickly and moved all of our cars out of the way, and huddled in between them. When the first funnel hit, Tracy and I went down a few floors and inside a theatre. Huddling between the rows of red velvet seats on the hard cement floor I could see the rest of the tornados approaching and watched as one smashed the window sending me to the floor and shards of glass everywhere. Tracy's cat Logan was there on the ground (your guess is as good as mine as to why Tracy has brought her cat to a trip to the museum), comforting us by licking our hands. In a last ditch attempt we ran for a bus and hauled ourselves in it. It was immediately sucked in by the twister and we were sent hurling upwards. I blacked out.



When I woke up a Matthew Good song was playing denoting the sense of flying high into the sky until their was no oxygen left and suffocating at the beautiful sight of the earth. The bus went hurling down and landed on a hill with minimal impact. I scrambled for the wheel, hot-wired the bus (something I know how to do in dreams) and proceeded to drive even though I had no idea where I was going. In the end I lead us down highways and country roads to a small community that had been flooded.

A tiny little drop plummeted to my paper. Splashing out leaving a perfect ring of droplets around it. It was like in Mission Impossible when Tom Cruise catches his sweat in his gloved hand. I was on the phone rejecting someone for some reason or another when it happened. This has never happened before. I quickly ended the conversation saying I would call back, but wanted to say "I'll call back after I mop up this blood spill". That's the last time I do a line of cocaine in the office!

Because I can't think of any orginal content on my own and am working on a plan for a recount of The One ->


Top Ten Reasons Why Canada will not join USA in the War on Iraq



10. We have no way of getting there.

9. We are too busy at home with the Maple Syrup Season.

8. After 136 Years, we are still copying off France.

7. Saddam's name pronounced backwards is "Mad Ass". We'll stay away from him.

6. There is only limited potential for sales of Canadian Bacon in Iraq after the war.

5. Our Sea King Helicopter was damaged and needs repairs.

4. Celine Dionne can't sing to the troops because she has a contract in Las Vegas.

3. The Rivers in Iraq are too shallow for our War Canoes.

2. Lousy hockey in Iraq at this time of year

1. Our army is needed at home in case of another snow storm in Toronto

reLAX guy. That's what the powers that be were thinking when they threw down sleet and ice from the heavens above covering all things man made including my car. There is a strange beauty in something covered in ice which is quickly lost as you try to chisel your car out of the driveway on the way to see Bend it like Beckham because you have been sequestered in your friends house all day and the previous night, stuck doing work even though everyone else in the GTA is probably sitting in front of a fire laughing at all the poor shlubs that have to work, bloody brilliant that is.



Any movie that has the word shag in it is good in my books, it could have used a good snog somewhere though. It gave me a nice fuzzy feeling without being overtly syrupy sweet. It made me want to eat some Indian food and play a good game of Football.



Guy: I really like Beckham.

Girl: But your Indian!

It's amazing how seeing a celebrity can make one become quite silly. Ten of us went for brunch on Sunday, about ten seconds into it we spot Ron MacLean at the table next to us. We just couldn't help ourselves, we pointed and giggled and made a farce of it all. 'Should we buy a pint for Ron? Is Ron having desert? What is Ron drinking? Is that his wife? No, no I think that's his daughter. Do you think Ron would like to see these pictures? Look he's going to the bathroom, one of you guys should go talk to him at the urinal. Ron's looking good in that suede jacket and perfectly ripped jeans, that raise really paid off. We fought for you Ron! How cute, he's here with his mother. Look it Ron's napkin, we should sell it on eBay!'

Since the dawn of time there has been a strange unforeseen connection between animals and prophylactics. It all started in the 60s when a little German Shepard named Skippy ate an entire package of birth-control pills, launching him into a state of temporary insanity, lashing out at loved ones one second and whimpering in the corner the next.



Lately I've been hearing more about this phenomenon. A friend's cats have taken to opening the drawer and pulling out condoms. Maybe it the shiny and brightly coloured packages that draw them, but the cats seem to really enjoy pawing them and depositing them in the most inopportune places where parents on surprise visits may find them. Secondly, I've been taking care of some dogs for the last week and that also entails picking up after them on our little walks. Like dogs in general they'll eat anything that you don't notice. I went to go pick up a little deposit and to my great surprise, there were condoms in it! Not one, but two! Which proves a point, anything a cat will play with a dog will eat. The one mystery I haven't been able to solve is where did they get them from?

I get paid to be fake. To be someone I am not. I have a feeling that all these work dinners are going to get to me at some point. Sure I am getting free food and the Uni student hidden deep inside is rejoicing for yet another dollar saved for a pitcher of beer, but the little kid in me is dying a slow death caused by painful conversations with people I don't know. All conversation seems to start and end the same. Where do you work? What do you do? The inevitable take two directions. The first is you hit it off and have found something common to jabber about for hours whether it be music or the latest Trading Spaces episode when that designer did that thing that made the girl beat up the other girl. Basically you are two peas happy to share the same pod. If you are not this lucky you must beware the topic of weather in a conversation. If you have to resort to this you better leave. Run kicking and screaming of you have to because you have zero compatabilty with this person. You have just moved down to the lowest possible demoninator either of you can think of. It's not a could scene and only the best finaggler can get out of that mess. Good Luck.

My work laptop won't start. This could be a problem.



I feel like I am playing a gigantic game of house except nobody told me that it would be difficult. The pseudo family left for Maui, lucky bastards, leaving behind their 2 one year old puppies and an 18 year old daughter who came back from the Dominican holiday with flea bites, suspiciously sounds like crabs (mental note -> avoid daughter if possible). They kindly took me aside and said 'keep an eye on her', in other words please please stop her from destroying our home that took us 20 years to put together and another 50 to pay for.



So last night was the first test as I watched her an her friends become inebriated with my girlfriend, she watched not participating. I did learn a valuable lesson, like Elaine Benice her vault combination is alcohol. She preceded to tell me a little too much about her friends activities in what is now my room. Then as they left I had to make sure they were taking a cab. It was very tiring. Then you throw the dogs in the mix which must be like having kids. You have to feed them, walk them and pick up their shit and no matter how good you are at they still whine and bark and generally ignore you.



I have to admit, it has soured my future in pet ownership. I may have to consider an imaginary pet. I think it will be a tiger named Richard Parker. He listens to what I say, uses the toilet, lets me pet him whenever I want and best of all, eats people whom I disapprove of.

Perhaps another reason I may be certified as insane; the latest dream sequence...

I was back in the town I grew up in with my Jetta, I remember it being all shiny and new and a bunch of friends I used to hang out with in high school came over to visit. After taking some mystery drug we decided to go play a game of pool in an old barn that had been converted into a pool hall, because that is the sort of thing that you do when you live the boonies. However, just as the mystery drugs kicked in making my vision melty we all hopped in my Jetta to pull donuts in a farmer's field. (segue)



My team lead has just pissed me off so in a fit of rage I quit my job. She came up to me the next morning saying that someone wanted to talk to me at the restaurant I worked at. To get there I walked across an impossibly big square, full of merchants and uneven cobble stones that make women despise high heel shoes. Once I got there I realized it was a trick, swore at my team lead again and sat down at a cafe. I looked up and saw people with blank expressions whom I recognized as my friends. I asked why they were there and Rick said 'We thought she was going to trick you'. Just then my team lead came out and gave me a sandwich.

We've been playing musical chairs at the office. The good news is that I have the wonderful corner office with the view of the highway and planes on their descent that many would sell there souls to the devil for. The bad news is I am only there for a month before I return to the life of no windows, no view, all the time. Again on the upside people have no idea where I am so they can't harass me anymore about my picture showing up in one of the trade rags. They made me pose for a hallmark moment between to symbolize vendor, distributor and reseller at the last trade show I attended and all day people kept carting the picture out trying to make me sign it until my face went seven different shades of red and they walked away satisfied with my discomfort.

Thank God for sunny days. It took all the energy I had to convince myself that:

a) it's not yet summer so I shouldn't be wearing the sandals quite yet.

b) that it is not acceptable to ditch work in search of a patio to drink pints at. This weather has me being very nostalgic for the Bomber Patio. I pity all those poor students this term who are unable to lure there friends to the confines of the patio to enjoy a pint as the escape the tediousness of class. That's what Uni is truly about.

It must be tough not being able to make the simplest decisions for yourself. The kid I live with suffers from it greatly. I don't know what it stems from, perhaps he is really insecure. If I sit for 20 minutes or so he will come and ask me anything ranging from the best time and place to meet someone to how long something should sit in the dryer. Were we all that way and just have the luxury of forgetting it?

Mp3's have made record execs scared that no one will buy CDs anymore so they have resorted to adding exclusive materials with the purchase of an album such as DVD's or music videos. I just purchased the latest Matthew Good album which employs similar tactics. With the purchase of the CD you are enrolled into a secret society at houseofsmokeandmirrors.com only accessible when the CD is in my mac and I have my membership card handy. The content actually makes sense, exclusive mixed or acoustic versions of the album songs in good quality mp3s. It supports the purchase and gives you something that is not freely available. There is also a greater chance that the mp3s won't hit the P2P networks, because people who have paid for the CD would be less likely to share something that they have paid money for.



With that said, I won't share the exclusive stuff, but I will share 21st Century Living off of the new album. It's a nice satirical look at Super Sizing. "I'd like an order of death with a coke".

I know that any thing anti is bad, but sometimes I look around to myself and think living in Canada is good. There is nowhere else that I would want to be and sometimes little things really hit tha point home. I was driving to Guelph the other day and I look up and see a fellow from Illinois I think, a good guy I am sure, but I felt sad for him. His license place had a giant picture of Abe Lincoln and some motto I didn't take the time to read. Abe was, and is a cool guy but I don't think a license plate is where his glories should be touted. License plates are meant to be plain in order to show off dumb vanity plates.

My new motto is if you are going to be watching a sporting event you should go in style. It was a sweet ride watching the Raptors get their asses kicked by Memphis yesterday in the corporate box. It's like having a butler for a few short hours, someone to think for you. It may seems a little weird at first when the second you turn away they clean up after you but eventually you get used to it and make a mess just to keep them happy when they aren't bringing you a drink, fetching you ice cream or making sure that the buffet (pizza, fajitas, chicken fingers, salad, veggies, sushi (aggghgggh sushi) and deserts) is stocked. I think I could enjoy being rich, but until then I am content sponging off of others.

I went and saw the Laramie Project last night at UW. It made me remember all the reasons I love the theatre, it's not a movie. It doesn't depend on special effects or some weird twist of fate to keep your attention. It relies on bringing a good story to life. A play is what's left after you strip off all the bullshit.



The Laramie Project was excellent. It had a point to it, about a brutal hate crime on a small city. It made you think, how can shit happen like this. It made you laugh, ha ha that bartender is hilarious. And, most importantly it made you wish for change and made you feel that it was possible.

The thing I hate most about keeping a blog is that I can never remember the amusing tidbit conversations that I found funny in a day. They would translate nicely into the site but I, like all dumbasses, forget the conversation and the hilarity loses it's chance to live on in cyberspace forever.

I watched Snatch last night, and can't seem to keep the quotes out of my head. I will recite them now for my own amusement. Who took the jam out of your jelly dounut? Proper Fucked? Perwinkle Blue! Ze Germans! It was nice to lie in bed and watch the movie thinking of how fun life could be it had a soundtrack that clued you into what was about to happen. The best would be if a Propellerheads song kicked in to signal a wicked awesome fight/car chase scene was about to happen.

I am stuck working from home today. It's not that bad at all. I just managed to configure a wireless connection from powerbook to thinkPad to share the internet so I should be able to get some work done, but I think the range may suck. Soon my hub will come and life will take a momentous turn. A lot of people are online right now. Rambling is fun! Over the weekend Rick asked me to be one of his Groomsman, I accepted. What better way to observer a wedding than that. You have some responsibility but not all of it so you are permitted to do your own thing once in a while. I was also told that I am lucky because if I were a woman I would have to spend beacoup dollars on many gifts.

My career is a horrible lie. Deep down inside I don't like the products I assist in the selling of. I have a clear platform of choice for personal computing, and my work doesn't satisfy that need. However, due to a technicality I can feel much better about myself because the products I do sell are aimed at the business market and not the consumer market and they have a much better fit there. Especially in the place where my favourite company doesn't compete. If you think this is all very cryptic, well your right!



On the upside this provides a clear rift in my life that indicates good and evil. When I look at my work computer I think 'evil' thoughts that will surely secure me a place in eternal damnation and turn my laptop into a quivering pile of ashes., but I am saved when I see the happy pulse of my powerbook sleeping like a sweet innocent child. Coincidentally the same can be said of business attire. Pleated pants = evil, jeans = good.

I keep learning the same lessons time and time again. Each time I climb to the top I am pushed off the edge by an unseen force. Starting a job is much more of a humbling experience than I thought it was going to be. When I was in high-school it took 5 years before I ruled the school and now that I am working I am back in Grade 9, (Freshman year for you American Folk) and as important as glasses to a blind-man.



Waterloo may produce some of the best grads in the country or the world for that matter, but they all have one fatal flaw; an ego the size of a giant's testicle. We are a cocky bunch thinking we know all the details about everything but in reality we are trained monkeys who perform circus tricks on demand. Put us in a real job and we'll perform well but are secretly dismayed at out lowly positions. Why are we at the bottom of the totem pole, do they not know who I am?



Life is full of waiting. Waiting to drive, for love, to grow up and for full independence. And as we achieve each goal another two are added to the pile.

I never thought I would admit it but my car isn't perfect. I love it so, but it has but one flaw. When the weather is shit and your car becomes a silver ice bullet it shakes at speeds excess of 100 At first I thought it was snow around my tires, but after kicking them off it still rumbled at high speeds, so I stoped again to chip ice off the front of my car which improved the situation but I couldn't get the ice out of the grills. It's like the day you realize that your Dad isn't perfect; he can't leap over buildings in a single bound.

I took the GO train downtown for a training session today. It's really a depressing thing for me now. The whole time I felt like a lost sheep, being herded from car to subway waiting patiently for my turn. Everyone looked the same and read that same damn newspaper. They were all doing their best to sit among hundreds of people and still have zero social interaction with the people around them. It was hard to decide if it was sad or silly. In the end I turned my music up trying to create a suttle difference between me and them.

After all these years I still do it. The same routine whether I am sick, tired, sober or drunk. I close the door to my room and instinctively lock it. When the house is full of people or if I am the only one there, I lock it. All because drunk roommates would come home and steam roll me as I lay in my bed. Taking such great pleasure in my incoherentness and pain as I realized what was going on around me. Damn! I never should have started that.

I got my first business cards ever today. I am not so much proud in that Jason Bateman way that I would kill someone with watermarks and embossed lettering, but more of the look at me I am an official YAPPY (young aspiring professional) way. My goal is to one day honestly be able to say 'Have your people call my people', but until that day I'll have to settle for 'Let's do lunch' or 'Call me' in conjunction with telephone gesturing fingers.

Is there anything better than a cross-over? It was successful for for Buffy and Angel why not me? So, I take this time to invite Amanda to expand on her thoughts about me, mostly because no has ever called me mysterious before and I'd loved to know why: I think I'd have a crush on Brad if I knew him in real life. He?s funny. He shares my obsessive love for music (though our tastes differ). He?s smart. He?s a UW grad. He is a genuinely nice guy. Someday he will come to Waterloo and drink beer with me. Until then I wish his blog was a little less mysterious.



I think my sex appeal just shot up exponentially.

You know that moment when all else disappears except the thud of the bass and the black of the pavement, it's greatly enhanced when you look over to the car next to you and their is a cute girl in it and she's singing along to something too! But then you realize she's singing along with you. You are sharing the same station and the same melody, and for a second you aren't alone in your car anymore.

I was listening to Hitz 97.7 on the way home from work tonight, I almost killed myself laughing over their Valentine's day contest, "Have Sex Over your Ex". If you win, a chopper will wisk you and your signicant other directly over your ex' so you can bump uglies. Whatever will you do if you don't win? Buy into that Hallmark shite?

What a great night! Everyone woke up this morning with vague memories of what happened. Each of us with a horse voice from singing along too loudly to Sweet Caroline, but it paid off. We were the cool table. The table everyone want's to be. The table that you tell your kids about on a trip down memory lane when your too old to partake in tables of the sort anymore. The night's entertainment whom we dubbed Roy, bought us a pitcher in appreciation, told everyone to sing like us and gave a shout out as we left the pub.



More nick names were passed out during the night, several jeebus' were present, an evil pete and 'hand on my dick, hand on my phone guy'. I walk in the bathroom and there is 'hand on my dick, hand on my phone guy' at the urinal. His eyes straight ahead staring at the tile and talking on his #$%^ing cell phone. What the hell is that?



The only other funny thing I recall right now is Julie telling everyone that customs had smelled her underwear. A total mistake on her part, but funny as hell on mine.

Some of the smartest people I've met are beggers. They're not a predictable bunch. Last night this guys opener was "Can I give you some money?". It throws you off, hopefully just enough that you give him money instead. Much better than those lame, I need money for marijuana signs the kids have. It's all about originality

My office over looks the copy machine at work. It truly is a good place to be. There is enough traffic that you can people watch all day and make little nicnames. There is hot girl who wears tight jeans, hair may explodeat any time girl, and I'm a gangsta walking thug and if you look at me funny I'm gunna bust a cap in your ass guy.

My new family provides hours of entertainment. I hear it from all sides. How one wants a nipple ring, the other wants to tap that, one yelling at the dogs and the other as nice as can be. It's sort of like living with the Osbournes, but without all the swearing and incoherentness. The dogs are annoying, but lovable. Every morning when I am all clean and pristine they make sure to ruin it by covering my legs in fur and drool marks. The cat just stares at me. No matter what I am doing, it just stares. If I stare, it stares. But I know she likes me, mainly because we have an understanding. I pet her and she doesn't puke or pee on my bed. The perfect win win situation that we all strive for in life.

I've been having some weird dreams again. Usually it takes me longer to incorporate new faces into them, but my new work crew made it in right away. We were having an impromptu marketing meeting because one of my bosses had had an epiphany on a new give-away for the company. It was reversible rubber genitalia. One side was male, the other female. My boss thought it was the greatest idea ever and couldn't understand why I didn't think it conveyed the marketing message.



I tried to explain myself with an anecdote about wife beaters. How we could give them away, but the only time we would ever see a return on them it would be on Cops as drug dealers strung out on crack are pushed head first into the back of cop cars. She just didn't get and kept on playing with her new rubber friend.

I came home early because the only alternative was to sit at a table for the rest of the day staring out the window feeling like a giant tool because I have nothing that I can really do. I'm sure at some point in the future I'll wish that I didn't have email or a phone. Those 'll be the days, good, old.

You could say it was a good first of week for me if you based it on the number of free meals I received, one per day. I was told to never expect such a good turn out but hopefully they are lying. Free meals could considerably reduce my food costs.



The big topic of the weekend was weddings. Ranging from Vegas to a 350 guest traditional affair. I found it amusing, but probably because I am no where near the point of getting married. Had I been I probably would have been curled up in a ball on the floor with my fingers in my ears shouting la la la.

I'm just a lazy cat in a dog eat dog world. At least until I get some tools to perform my job. It surprises me that after all the times i have started a job that the tools I need to perform my role are never in place. They are wasting a lot of money by not giving me passwords, security cards and laptops and just letting me sit idle. What do they expect me to do? Absorb the knowledge through the cement walls? Plug my finger in an ethernet port to check my email? That would be really cool if you could though.



In other news today, I found out that my girlfriend is going to be having the devils child, spawn of satan or SOS for short. I'm not sure when she had time to do this. Perhaps she got the tan when she was in the Underworld and not on her tropical vacation. More investigation is necessary.

Maybe it's the extra hour a day I sit in my car (... pretty jetta ..., still need a name) that makes me crazy, but having a ventriliquest at a company meeting for entertainment is a tricky thing. The comic wasn't allowed to talk about sex, booze or racial jokes. Instead he made all the sexual innuedendo's with a dummy he could (an analogy about golf, the dummy's wooden tee and ball sack). It was 100% pure potty humour. I would have really liked a magician, there just aren't enough of those around.

First day of work is over with. It was long. Long like a Wednesday night class and all you want to do it leave and go to the bar, but are forced to sit through hour after hour of the lecture. But then it did get better, because it ended with a social event complete with beer and yummy appetizers. No resemblance to the Bomber though.

Them: We think you have a problem.

Me: Huh?

Them: All those late night sessions.

Me: The what?

Them: When you go out to your car, turn on the heated seats and sit their for hours sucking in the new car smell. We think you have a problem.

Me: I don't know what you're talking about. Get away from me.

Them: Put the keys down. You're getting dependent. We need to nip this in the bud.

Me: It's only been a day, go away!

(struggle ensues)

(I am victorious. I grab the switch-key out of a balmy hand and run quickly to be reunited with my loved one. I sit inside, inhaling the luxurious smells, thinking this must be what fatherhood is like.)

This ain't your moma's CBC - This shift article points of some of the ways the CBC is changing to meet the demands and wants of a new generation. We not only want to access content, but shape the way it is offered and how it is received.

This whole car lust thing is getting out of control. Everytime I spot a Jetta, my eyes glaze over and I say 'pretty jetta' in an eerie stalker kind of voice. If I'm not careful I am going to be one of those guys that loves their cars a little too much if you know what I mean. Hopefully it will all subside once I pick up my little beauty on Saturday. Which reminds me, any suggestions on good car names?

part of the process - I was filling out the organ donor card to accompany my health card. I am going to donate all my organs for transplant only, except for my eyes. I can't bear to think of what the little science geeks would do to me if I were a research donor, I just picture the things we did to fetal pigs in biology. They would also give me some dumb name too, like Cletus. Anyway, I have no rational reason to not give up my eyes, it's not like I'm gonna need them once I'm six feet under or sitting in a silver urn on the mantel. I just can't part with them, I think it has something to do with outward appearance. So, I hand over my card to the clerk, she looks at it, looks at me, looks at it and says in her best, see how smoking causes emphysema voice, 'you know they take your eyes out at the funeral home anyway'.

Taking a post from what's the what I looked up what my name means, it's not my proper name, nor very accurate but it was amusing - you are prone to suffer from weaknesses centering in the head.

Remember that time I said that it would be a good idea on the part of the recording labels to swarm the P2P networks with bad version (spoofing) of songs, I should've kept my big mouth shut. I should have quietly sold my idea to the labels to reap the profits. I didn't but, you can read about who did on wired.

I hate signing contracts. You read the fine print just to realize that you are getting royally screwed. My contract states that my employer can fire me whenever they so desire, but if I want out I have to give 30 days written notice and can't do that until the first 6 months of the contract have lapsed. They have you by the balls and all you can do is sign it.

Going out with high school friends can be such a good time. I meet up with people I hadn't seen in a couple of years over a few pints last night. After we spent 15 minutes catching up on our own lives we gossiped about old school mates for two and a half hours. It's strangely vindicating to hear that all the 'cool' people are: married because they knocked someone up, lost their athletic scholarship, was arrested for cocaine trafficking or working at Tim Hortons. It's moments like those that I cherish that I wasn't was of those perfect popular people.



The other realization I had was that I lived in a different world than everyone else. All my memories are so different, I don't remember half the scandals other people do. I guess I never cared.

What's in a name anyway? BradCorps - sounds damn cool like the Marine Corps but more exclusive than any joe off the street, but too close to corpse. Midnight Inferno Consulting (MIC) - sounds cool, sort of an 'i will come in the middle of the night and save you from your technical woes', possible super-hero spin off, but in the end it's only a trail coworkers can follow back to this site. BradCorp. (Bart? Mmm. Dart, Kart, Mart, sounds good to me.)



After 6 months of playing tiddlywinks and coveting everyone else's life I've started Brad Corp. A business I can call my own; to provide sound consulting in sales, marketing and technology (among other things. wink wink, nudge nudge) ; for particularly big corporations in the tech industry that go by acronyms and colourful nicknames; that provides legal tax deductions.



Hell yeah, I've got a job!

Apple released new powerbooks and software (Keynote = Powerpoint, Safari = IE, X11 support, and more). Safari is incredibly small and fast. My favourite feature is the little orange arrow, it takes you to the top-level domain for the site you are on.



I received my first mix cds from crabwalk, on first glance the crabwalk cd looks good, but the secondary contains more country than I'd like. The french song I am listening to now is either about shit, my mother or the sea. Not sure which.



Buffy Season 3 is available on DVD today.



I don't think I could take any more new things today, I'm like a kid in a candystore! I really should stop joining these little fanatic groups.

A secret can be hard to part with. It may not be particularly interesting to anyone else, but you guard it with a ferocity that surprises yourself. I've been seeing someone for more than 3 months and only told my parents just now. At first it was too soon to say anything, then I just didn't and after that it was funny that I hadn't. Even after there pestering me and trying to set me up with good dutch girls. Most people knew already but I never tell my parents these sorts of things. If I had my way I wouldn't introduce girlfriends at all and leave it until I was sure she was the one.

Does anyone else find Christopher Walkin creepy? It's in his eyes. I bet his kids ran away screaming from him as soon as they could.



Faced with the choice of watching a DiCaprio movie I chose one of two evils, Catch Me If You Can. It seemed so much better than being subjected to 2 hours of staring at Leo's mustache in the Gangs of New York and thinking to myself 'why oh why'. That said, I didn't actually regret the movie at all. It held me for the 2.5 hours, was funny and because it was based on a true story it gained some credibility.

Mmmmmm Jet-ta, my preciousssssss.

It's so easy to get out of the habit of telling people things. The less I see someone the more irrelevant it seems to tell them the things that are happening in my life. Have you ever seen the 'speed dial' episode on Seinfeld? It's sort of like that, after a while of inactivity the pecking order changes. I forget to tell people things because I assume they don't care or know already.