Ottawa's MP3 fee quashed Yeah, another discount!

I can't decide if We Sell It in waterloo is brilliant or not. On one hand I am lazy, on the other they do seem to take a big cut. It'd be an easy way to get ride of some of the larger tech equipment I have.

Wow, I found this traffic article on wired interesting. Is this a sign I am old?

I'd think it would be incredible if you saw this movie and didn't like it. It may not be killing Shrek 2 or Finding Nemo, but it has a PG rating because people do die. Pixar is growing up and I like it! Still no swearing or sex, but the movie has some major action packed scenes and a ton of humour. My one disappointment is no extra clip at the end of the credits, I waited but nada.

I haven't had some crazy dreams in a while, but I seem to be back in full force with a very razzle dazzle two scene dream. Each scene completely independent of each other, but both strange.

Act 1: I am moving into a new house with my friends, specifically I know that Rafi and Terry live with me. In this open concept of a house, all the beds are randomly strewn the living area. Rafi and Terry choose beds that are located beside mine and the shower which is right in the open. In the morning I get up to take a shower only to realize that the shower is really small and the curtain is practically see-through. I hear a knock at the door and someone enters, I have no idea who it is, except that we don't get a long. We are enemies of some sort and he decides to yank the shower curtain down. I am now magically dressed and I jump out chasing after him. Darting up the stairs he ducks into what should be a bedroom but it lacks a bed. We have a brawl in the room, exchanging blows until I am victorious and he leaves the house as unexpectedly as he arrives. Going back downstairs, all seems normal. I look at the wall, but it's a computer of some sort that has been tracking all the conversation of the people that live in the house.

Act 2: I could be on a school trip or just catching a school bus to the zoo for all I know. I am definitely a tourist and out of place. Family members and friends are with me. At the last minute we jump on the bus and I am forced to sit at the back with a little girl. We start talking about math, specifically the base system and the answer to a question the tour guide has asked us to do in base 9. When I look up I notice that two passengers in the back seat must be secret service or something. They are dressed all in black and toting rifles that seem poised. Following their sight line I see 2 red SUVs in the distance. Several minutes pass and I realize they are following us. At that moment they speed up and sweep by the bus. Bracing for shots nothing happens. This happens a few more times until one of the cars comes sweeping up and places a ball of blue putty on a window. Ness has her back to him and can't see it. I start yelling to her to move. Shots ring out. She opens the window, and a hand from outside removes the putty and repositions it. All the passengers move into the aisles keeping low and wriggling about like earthworms on wet ashfault, clearly out of place. (Cut scene to the train station) I am walking out a bathroom stall and I see my mother. She shouts at me, 'I knew it, they were after a mother', trying to calm her down I give her a big hug wondering why the SUV crew had halted their activities after they had seen a Grandma crossing the train tracks.

Jay and Silent Bob on Degrassi - I gotta see that.

The USA is the most powerful nation on earth. What does that mean? Here is someone's slick interpretation.

After all the crappy movies I have seen lately, Garden State, was a nice change. Maybe the movies weren't crappy but they certainly didn't require me to think much at all about what was going, instead they showed me some eye candy and overt humour that even my mom would have understood. Garden State was different. I probably liked it because I seem to be in a life change as well. The movie was smart, the pace I though represented the progress in the main character and it had a kick-ass sound track I think I would like to obtain.

Donnie Darko is a movie that I had meant to see for a long time. I had read enough references to peak my intersted. I needed to find out what was up with that freaky deaky rabbit, that could have been the Trix rabbit on a severly bad bender. Last night I caught it on the IFC channel and was pretty muched sucked into it from the beginning, it had a hook and I never really could get level on what was happening. Each theory was quickly discredited and replaced. The movie may be dark, but it had it humour it was set in the late 80's after all. Worth the watch in my opinion.

I'm saying goodbye to Bell and signing up for Vonage, I hope it makes all my dreams come true. Anyone else ever use a VoIP service?

Why some people have rather high opinions of themselves is beyond me. So what if you are attractive and people sometimes have the notion to flirt with you? Occasionaly poeople try to hit you up for a phone number or a drink at a local bar of your choosing where you will promptly screw them over and go pick up someone you deem more attractive. This may all be true, but it doesn't mean when I approach you with a book in one hand and a chai latte in the other and ask to sit down in the only comfy chair left in the entire establishment that I am hitting on you and you should make up a lame excuse that a friend is sitting there. It will be debunked when I leave and see your mythical friend sipping her non-fat non-whip soy drink and think utterly cruel thoughts about you and your family and how you must all suck and need some guidance from Dr Phil.

Mmmmm iPoDonut

CAFKA 04 is happening for 8 more days in downtown kicthener. We stumbled across it last night first noticing a display in an old store front that projects an animation which I think was a music video of sorts that can democratize you, whatever that is suppose to mean. As you approach city hall you know something is up, the fountain is full of plastic lounge chairs and a small sign saying that you will be filmed for an art installation if you hang around the entrance/exit to city hall. Someone's ferret didn't mind, it made it's way out into the sea of white lounge chairs sending it's owner after it and several rent-a-cops after him. As exciting as that all was, the highlite had to be the installation in the revolving door. It was a musical revolving door and played a jewellery box scale as the doors moved causing chaos as regular folk tried to decipher what was happening.

I think a person in clown makeup and regular clothes driving a minivan is one of the creepiest things i have ever had to see in my life.

I hate that I can get so addicted to a book that I can't stop reading, it invades all my free time until every moment is consumed with the sole purpose of finishing it. I was sucked into Memoirs of a Geisha. It seemed a little crazy to me when the main character laments that she really never had much if any control over her life, comparing it to a constant stream with a leaf caught up in the current.

It struck me and I keep thinking about it. The truth is sometimes I feel the same way and am not always sure why I am doing some of the things I do. Why business when I really like music? Why University at all? Why am I a not on some big grandiose adventure? I know that many of the choices I make are the right ones, but there is always that "what if?", but that is the thought that shapes us as we life our lives.

Oprah's auto giveaway fuels Web spike I caught a portion of this particular Oprah show on Monday and to be honest I lost a lot of respect for the big O. The talk show might as well be an informercial that aired in the wee hours of the morning with b celebrities endorsing it. It may have brought Oprah down a notch to some, but it was a brilliant ad campaign.

Alas if only I had my iPod I would tell you all bout the guilty pleasures (dixie chicks bad enough?) that are hidden within, precious gems of music that I must do without until I am reunited with my love on Sunday. I let Em take it with her on a work trip, she made some sad puppy face, or rather I would like to believe that she made some sad puppy face and I was left no option but to let her take my child to the norther regions of Ontario. After all I was powerless to her femine wils or I couldn't bear to hear her lament one more time that she would have nothing to do on her 22 hour car trip. At this point in time I am not sure what I miss more, Em or my iPod.

Your friends do it, your parents do it, politcal officials do it and I guarentee that memebers of the clergy do it. They all bang their wang or duff the muff. How on earth did I get to this topic? Not by choice I assure you, but a conversation I had last week keeps surfacing to the top of my mind. Someone had casually mentioned that their 'buddy' got caught by their wife jacking off to Regis and Kelly. I don't even know where to start - getting caught? by your wife? regis? kelly? Certainly there is a time and place for Kelly, she is way more attractive than Kathie-Lee ever was, but I would expect that any stimulation that Kelly could provide, Regis would take away in spades.

Poor guy, must have confused the hell out of his wife.

Something funny happened on the way to the keyboard over the last month. Well not so much funny as it just never did. Life was moving along, things happened - weddings, funerals, the magical kingdom and surviving hurricanes. Yet, nothing seemed compelling enough to transcribe it to the site, or I just couldn't be bothered. A habit I guess, a bad one that I will constantly bitch about for the my entire existance.

Convergence Kills - a great link I stole from Goyer contemplating all the Apple rumblings and what he future hold for DRM.

I feel like the whole world is looking to buy a house at this very moment. Perhaps that's a grossly over stated thought, but it's the emotion of the moment. Last summer I remember feeling overwhelmed by everyone talking about their weddings and hearing nothing but the details. This summer their are more weddings, but less details. The in the void people are moving to new digs and exploring the housing market. Making it the new wedding. Similar to how naked is the new black. All the rumbling are making me jealous, but sensibly I know I am not in the right position to be buying a house. I lack job security and am locked into a lease for a little while longer.

Is this how my friends feel, are they suffering BDR Buffy Discordant Relationship?

Hold on while we take a more important call - This explains why I tend wait on the phone a lot, I am poor.

Not sure how I ended up at the ACC last Wednesday to take in the Madonna concert, but I was there none the less. I probably told a lot of little fibs on how I had ended up there, stating most often that I had been roped into it. Which was far from the truth, in the end I was trying to cover up for being the only straight guy going to see a pop icon. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

The thing I liked best about the concert, other than the fairly elaborate stage show consisting of various performers from trapeze artists to a skateboarder on a half pipe silhouetted in front of the largest LCD panel I have ever seen it mine life, it was the remixing of all her songs. It was great to hear updated versions of old classics, some I liked some I didn't. I wasn't impressed with a slower version of 'like a prayer', but intrigued by a rendition of 'get into the groove' with a sampling of the verve's 'bittersweet symphony' that totally threw me off guard as it opened with bag pipes and irish drummers.

MSNBC - The New iPod

Summer time colds can bite my ass. How can you even get a cold in the summer? There should be a law that says colds in the summer are cruel and unusual punishment. Mine has been around for about a week now, and sure maybe I aggravated it with a little too much alcohol last week, but that is no excuse not to be cured by now. I am going to prescribe myself a couple of days at the cottage as a remedy.

Paying to Play - the new Payola

Party like a rock star or don't party at all. I took that to heart last night. Not that I am a rock star, but I did some weird rock star things. I drank half of 26oz vodka before I went to the big party at the Guvernment. I Rocked out to Sam Roberts, whom was quite small. I dwelled on that a lot last night making sure that everyone near me knew. After that I tried to get closer to the front and was accosted by evil short people who tried to pull me down from behind. I had no choice but to retreat to the bar. After that the whole night pretty much lost all concept of time until we were ready to head to the hotel. Fights with the cabbie over street meat proved useless and we were forced to hit the corner store for food. I bought a huge water, and butter tarts. Why butter tarts? I have no idea either. I promptly deposited them in the street along with much of the contents in my stomach and then curled up in bed.

Why do I let myself get sucked into the reality show black whole? Why is it in movies that they can perfectly tear dresses into smaller versions of themselves? Why am I getting sick? Why am I drawing a complete and utterly blank when there are a million different things I could be going on about: the big party I plan on getting totally trashed at tomorrow night, how I was yelled at today for something totally out of my control, the renewed pressure put on me by the girlfriend to get engaged (which in all honestly is mild) or the great mischievous deed I am about to embark on.

Today I did the gauntlet of visiting within Em and I's family. Visiting siblings, parents and grandparents. Unfortunately over the last few years my grandparents have become increasingly fragile and the latest ordeal is the inability to drive a car anymore. It's hitting them hard and everyone has stepped up to do their part, that may even include driving them to church on hot Sunday mornings while you struggle to make conversation in the car. Each attempt was the same, I would ask my Grandpa a question, he wouldn't answer, then Oma would shout the same question at him, he answered. Still, there are taking not being able to drive better than Em's Grand Dad who would go out and start his car everyday just to make sure it worked.

Anyway as we were visiting Em's Grand Dad I couldn't help think about those things and how inaccurate the signs of the hospital wing are. They clearly state the hospital wing as a scent free zone, but it clearly wasn't. I caught a whiff of some highly unpleasant scents during my visit. But back to my main thought, as cliche as it all may be - when one door is closed a window is opened. Grandparents may not be able to drive, but the number of family visits will increase to offset it all. But that's only one point in a long long struggle.

No one ever talks about the horrible side effects of watching too much reality TV. Sure I may find Nick and Jessica funny, and the mouth on Paris and Nicole amusing, but really I don't want to dream about them. I have a sickness.

In my waking dreams last night I was transported to a rather grand wedding with friends and family. It was a crazy complex lined with marble hallways and contained a red theatre full of pub chairs and a dining hall with one extremely long table garbed in red linens and the best china. Outside the complex was a motel with random rooms that felt like they had been pieced together from cottages and trailer parks.

This wedding was for Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson, and I can't even fathom why my family and friends were there. You had the option of watching the ceremony in the theatre or heading to the dining hall. I got separated from everyone and couldn't decide what to do.

I checked out the dining hall to find Julie and Kurt sipping the bubbly and pounding back caviar covered crackers. A quick conversation revealed they had no idea why they were there anyway, so they thought they would make the best of it and have a nice meal. Kurt was also opposed to anyone who was once in a boy band.

Next was the ceremony, the theatre was dark and I couldn't find anyone I knew to sit with. Nick was crooning away on some song as I sat in the back row. Looking over I realized I knew the person beside me from several years ago. She started babbling louder and louder. I tried incessantly to quiet her, sshing the best I could. It wasn't good enough. Jessica Simpson was sitting two rows ahead and kicked us out for disturbing her wedding.

With no where to go I went back to my motel room and lay on the bed until people came back. Em came in and proceeded to change into her dinner outfit. Once down to her under garments, my mother entered the motel room. I panicked and warned Em, and she dashed into the bathroom. Unfortunately not fast enough as my mother saw her and proceeded to chase after her calling out names. That's when I woke up.

Inappropriate thought of the day - I saw an elderly woman on my way to the gym. As I walked by she stared at me and I couldn't help stare back into her glinting brown overtly crossed eyes. I did my best to block it from my mind, but all I could think about was a comment the other day someone had made about banging a girl until her eyes crossed. My poor mind contemplated this thought for the next hour wondering how old she had been when it happened, and how sad no one had banged her again since.

This morning I was trying to remember the last time I had gone drinking since the debauchery of last night. At first I thought it had been 2 weeks ago at a BBQ. But, then I remembered I had drank steadily on Friday night, oh wait I had a couple pints on Thursday. Clearly I have a drinking problem.

I know last night was a good adventure. Even if I couldn't remember anything, which is a good sign in itself, I have the bruise on my hip. Bruises mean chaos definitely occurred or you drank to much. Definitely the former in my case. The bruise was the result of a bowling incident, which was after we spent a good deal of time drinking wine on the roof of my apartment building, making inappropriate shadow puppets with the setting sun and watching spit swirl down in spermy spirals (the girls choice of descriptive words).

I should have known something bad was going to happen when the rule was made that we should flash our team members everything we made a strike. I don't even want to think of what would happen if someone had gotten a turkey. In the fourth frame of the second game my bowler's thumb was flaring up and I couldn't bowl well at all anymore. I went in for a spare when a large boot went flying by me and made it's way down the alley a few feet. I had no choice but to go rescue it. After the second step, time slowed to a halt as my feet swept out from under me and I landed with a thud in the middle of the lane. I quickly reached out for the boot, threw at the onlooking crowd and attempted to get up. At this time I would like to point out that bowling alleys mean business when they wax those lanes. I couldn't get up and was poised something like a tortoise on it's back unable to move. Gaining some momentum I was able to make it to a less slick surface and finally make it back to my beer.

Perhaps still straddling the line between heathen and christian is why I found Saved! to be such a funny movie. It was full of sublte jokes that if you weren't listening or didn't have a dirty mind you just wouldn't have gotten (you mother went into that missionary position, is still making me laugh even though hardly anyone else in the theatre was). Anyway, I think it was worth the price of admission, which is rare for me lately.

Prayer works, it's been medically proven.

The big question is, where do those swingers get there money. I was watching the new reality show Casino on Monday night, didn't mean to, but got caught in the vortex that is tv. Anyway the big plot twist had to do with swingers at the casino and they chose some prey, and tried to get them to play their swinger games like hide the sausage and isn't it sexy when I kiss your girlfriend. The prey decided to check it out and were whisked away in an SUV limo to the bar, and eventually back to a huge hotel suite where the main event was to go down. The whole time instead of thinking of all the implications of swinging, or if I would do it, or what sort of action they were going to show on TV, I was thinking where is all this money coming from? It doesn't seem like an ideal corporate sponsorship opportunity. I mean you aren't going to show up and get passed branded condoms are you? So where does the money come from? Does each couple pay? Does that make them johns or prostitutes. It just boggles the mind.

I've always enjoyed watermelon, I even eat with a spoon. Slowly hollowing it out until it's only a sad shell. If you had to decide, what would you say tasted better - watermelon with or without seeds? I've noticed lately that the choice was made for us. When did that happen anyway? What are millions of kids going to spit at their siblings on a sunny afternoon at the park? When is that watermelon tree going to grow in my stomach? What will spit or swallow refer to?

Yes, I am grasping.

My office is getting a little too quiet for me. Sure it's nice if you want to be productive, but my options are slim when it comes to slacking off. I really miss not having someone to go grab a drink with or just sit down and chat. But what really gets me is that when I get a mystery package at the office there is no where and no one to share in the joy of popping the bubble wrap!

Mac News: Analysis : The iPod-iTunes Phenomenon

Mac News: Analysis : The iPod-iTunes Phenomenon

Damn, this is the coolest thing ever. Makes me want to replace my wirless hub. Airport Express!

Wired 12.06: Welcome to Planet Pixar

Wired 12.06: Welcome to Planet Pixar

I didn't know that people wanted gmail accounts that bad. There are willing to swap for it. So far the only thing that intrigues me is the secret. Right now I have 2 accounts to swap or pass on. Hmmm. Any offers?

I discovered a sure fire to make my mother's head explode, just tell her that I would consider moving in with my girlfriend. I have a feeling she wished that she never asked me that question. Really why ask a question that you aren't going to be happy with the answer of. isn't it better for all of us to live in denial? Hear no evil, see no evil?

Damn! Someone beat me to the idea, all I was looking for was capital to start my venture. Anyway here is Zip, Canada's answer to Netflix.

Is it wrong of me to find these muchmusic vj ring tones funny?

I've been neglecting my book reviews lately. I've been reading just as much, my opinions just aren't making it out into the world. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris was pretty damn funny. Made me laugh right out loud. Although it's a collection of stories about his life and learning french, I didn't notice until afterwards when there was no overall conclusion. Warning reading this book will to pick up a new language.

I made the grave mistake of trying something new at the gym last week, I went to a Bodyflow class. Normally when the chipper instructor goes down the line asking everyone if they want to participate in her yoga/pilates class I ignore her or say not this time. However against my better judgment I went ahead an did the class and learned valuable lessons; my body does not flow, I can't take that new age crap, and my t shirts are not long enough. After exposing my midriff in a not so good way and doing all the downward dogs I could muster, the session wound down with a wave machine and some inspiration words about being on a beach, I didn't know any better so I stuck around for it and tried not to laugh at all during the encouraging words. Only later did I learn that a friend wanted to shout 'shark!' during her experience, I could have learned something!

Your dirty little secrets are filling up my mind. Acts of confessed sin, or perhaps acts of stupidity in a moment of passion or obfuscation. I am not a priest and offer no form of absolution. Yet, you confess to me what has been done. I know it’s my fault. I encouraged it. You see the gossip monger hidden beneath my blue eyes. I relish to hear the horrible things people have done or are about to do or are living through. It dances as you describe details of a tawdry affair. This information is intoxicating at first, but the more my mind evaluates the tidbit it reveals the power that is lies within.



So the basic problem these days is that I have too much dirt. I’ve collected it over the years and as I look around at friends and family I can see the harm that I could cause by dropping these tiny bombs and watch their shattering effects on relationships and tear apart the truth that was in its place. Not that I have a desire to do any of these things, but I could turn up some major shit and I have decided, or maybe I am mature enough to avoid the situation all together. I have no idea how I am going to do that, but I am going to try to try. After all, there are some secrets that are better off said to cleanse the soul, reveal the truth or avoid danger.

The big geek I am, I have a gmail account to fool around with now too. I feel so in the loop, and almost important. It's all about the hook ups.

I just don't yell enough at strange drunk people. Really, what do I have to worry about, I am pretty much bigger than everyone at the bar except perhaps the bouncer, and as I recall the last time a bouncer yelled at me I sassed him. Ellen, some dude who looks like Ellen Degeneres, got mad at me when I went down some stairs that where apparently off limits. I explained to him that it wasn't marked and not my problem. He thought it was, but didn't do anything about it. On Saturday I pounded back a few beers, and on the way out some rude dude pushed us out of the way because we were moving to slow. I kept yelling at him and ended it with... 'Ha ha we got a cab and at the end of the night all you have is your hand in your pants'. Class am I.

How I find myself in this bar is just a part of the randomness of life these days. The past two weeks have been filled with some highs and some lows, to numerous and embarrassing to go on about here. But the end result places me in this bar on Lakeshore drinking with friends. I regret it the moment I step in and the smoke infiltrates every pore of my clothes, and my friends point out that the mullet to non mullet ration is 1 to 3. There is a surprising variety of mullets - hockey, 70's and future skullets. After a lonely gin and tonic the night ends. The torment was too much to take as it was karaoke night in this particular bar, and Buddy Jr just belted out a Nickelback tune that sets everyone on edge as he shrieks dirty lyrics about where he like pants to be.

Good - Patios

Bad - Tax Man

Good - Kill Bill vol 1 and 2 with the over the top violence

Bad - Tax Man, I demand a recount

My mother calls me at 10:30 Monday night. Something is wrong. I can hear that quiver in her voice as she tells me that my brother is in the hospital and about to have surgery, go under the knife. She is probably wiping a tear from her eye at this point. In my head I have been whisked away to sunny california, I figure it's my responsibility to sift through his belongs and decided what to keep, sell and throw away. She tells me his appendix has burst and is going to be removed, it's risky business and she is praying for him. I'm whisked back to Canada, everything is going to be fine. It's just and appendix right?



She has this habit of painting a gruesome picture and passing it on. She's let her mind run away with her and it infects everyone else she passes the information on to. In her defense I can't blame her, what else is a parent to do if their son is half way around the world and they can't be with them when the hospital calls to tell them what is going on. Who else will be at their bedside when they wake up. Of course everything is okay now. and in the drama seems a little silly and uncalled for, but someone how warranted at the time.

Judge: File sharing legal in Canada | CNET News.com

Judge: File sharing legal in Canada | CNET News.com - The gap between us vs them widens yet again.

The Homeless Hacker vs The New York Times - Wired

Let's not even debate the merits of drunk driving versus driving will under the influence, specifically marijuana. It's not a debate I really want to have and I am sure every person will have their own unique spin on the subject that puts it into the light that they desire most. Likely justifying some misconstrued thing that they or someone they know did in the past. But, I am sure we can all agree that sparking up a pipe while driving is not a good idea. Imagine my dismay as I turn my head on the 86 to spy Joe Dirt sparking a freshly packed bowl of the ganga. The smoke alone would obscure the view. Why not just hotbox on the 410 and play a raring game of bumper cars.

I'm going to go to the Madonna re-invention concert in July at the ACC. She hadn't been in Canada since that whole Truth or Dare thing when she was arrested for faux masturbation on stage and she swore that she would never come back. At first I wasn't sure if I should or if I wanted to go. After all where do I fit in? I'm not a girl and I'm not gay. But thankfully I do have slight metrosexual tendencies (has that term used up it's 15 minutes of fame yet?) that should let me in the door without the alarms going off. Trying to get tickets was crazy, they went on sale this a.m. at 10. With 2 of us on the net and one of us in the store we attempted to buy tickets, without any luck. Thankfully Madonna can draw a crowd and two more dates were added. I think I made the right choice.

An interesting take on how to stop high gas prices in Canada...



By now you're probably thinking gasoline priced at about 69.9 cents a litre is super cheap. Me too! It is currently 76.9 for regular unleaded in my town. Now that the oil companies and the OPEC nations have conditioned us to think that the cost of a Litre of gas is CHEAP at 69.9, we need to take aggressive action to teach them that BUYERS control the marketplace....not sellers. With the price of gasoline going up more each day, we consumers need to take action. The only way we are going to see the price of gas come down is if we hit someone in the pocketbook by not purchasing THEIR gas!
And we can do that WITHOUT hurting ourselves. How? Since we all rely on our cars, we can't just stop buying gas. But we CAN have an impact on gas prices if we all act together to force a price war.



Here's the idea: For the rest of this year, DON"T purchase ANY gasoline from the two biggest companies (which now are PETRO CANADA & SHELL). If they are not selling any gas, they will be inclined to reduce their prices. If they reduce their prices, the other companies will have to follow suit. But to have an impact we need to reach literally millions of Shell and Petro Canada gas buyers.

I can't tell if this is incredibly cool and demonstrates the power of computers or incredibly scary. Anyway, you can now download music by William Hung of She Bangs on American Idol fame on the iTunes Music Store.

A Cyber Stalker of sorts. Seems exciting to me and makes me want to play detective. Why does this person have a hard on of hate for Dinah, or is this all related to Matt some how? Hmmm. I welcome your theories. Here is my theory, it is meant to be funny and not offensive.



Perhaps Matt was having a love affair with Dinah. Another person, let's call him the cyber stalker and X for short loves Matt. X is confused by Matt being an open metrosexual and not a homosexual. Matt indulges in the love affair with X for a brief time, but quickly realizes that he belongs on the other team. Dinah gets wind of the extra extra curricular activities and is jealous of X and breaks it off with Matt. Matt tries the but baby come back routine. Dinah won't have it. X, scorned by Matt, starts to harass him. Matt beside himself runs away to Seattle. X is forced to reach out through the Net.

I have this recurring dream that happen fairly regularly. It always has the same theme, but is updated to reflect the recent changes in my life. Sometimes it make me believe that we are living parallel lives in two different realities, and every time we sleep we drift from reality to the other. Occasionally the transition happens suddenly which is why we retain some memories, aka dreams.



So genre one is I'm still working at Canadian Tire, but haven't worked a shift since I left for University over 5 years ago. This time Canadian Tire had been bought out by Walmart. I am home visiting for the weekend and have decided to help out. I show up at the store and everyone who I used to work with, still does. Rob, rushes up to me and says boy Richard sure is pissed that I haven't worked much, and rumour has it that I am going to be fired. As I hear the last words I start to panic and rush for the checkout. My mind is churning out excuses why I shouldn't be fired. For the next hour I do errands at the end just to realize I already have a job. This morphs to genre two. That is, I am still in University and I have forgotten to study for exams. But I keep putting it off until there is only an hour to cram. At which point my mind goes blank and I can't remember how I have done in the course until this point in time.

IPods Beat in Heart of the City - Apparently one guy would give out a blow job for an iPod... What would you do?

What do you get your girlfriend after you hit it out of the park on the last year's birthday gift? Sure it was easy then, but now there is the desire to succeed again. It's true, I'll always feel pressure to out due myself, even if the pressure is not existant. Maybe this would be a good year to give a really bad gift. Maybe some socks, or a bad DVD like Glitter starring Mariah. Something that will make it real easy to build on over time. Next year could be underoos or CrossRoads starring Britney.

NIKE iD

NIKE iD - Maybe it's overpriced, but designing your own shoe is pretty damn cool.

It's been so long since I remember really hitting it up on St Patty's day. I have some vague memories of the past year but nothing really solid.



In Toronto, it was a cold St Patty's day and I had one a bright yellow jacket. We were waiting outside of the James Joyce, where else would you go on such a day? As we neared the front of the line people starting asking me how long the way was. After the second time I realized I was being mistaken for the bouncer. Seeing that the place was overrun already I started telling people that they should go away and try somewhere else, the Joyce was full tonight.



The bomber was packed as usual. The line at the campus pub usually starts at 11am that day and is relentless until the peak drinking times start in the evening. I was lucky that year, I had friends that let me in the back door or happened to be in the front of the line. The night is a blur as always leaving me only with a couple of memories. One, I had a really really green tongue. A sure sign that I an certifiable intoxicated. Two, I played ping pong between groups of friends and settled on sitting in the back at the grey bomber tables that have an overlay of black paint that must have been applied through netting. Three, we played inappropriate touching games. Four, I don't remember anything else.



With all that history, I was in a definite funk. I was outright craving green beer for reasons beyond my control or comprehension. I just did. I couldn't deny myself any longer so Rafi and I went on a quest down King St for green beer. There were lines at the two pubs we had in mind. Instead we took a detour off the beaten path to a trendy you may not be cool enough to be in here place. They had green beer. I was satisfied. It was good. But it became even better when we learned that it was forbidden green beer. We had mistakenly been served it and now everyone in the place looked at out pints with envy. We were Gods among the retro-ultra-hip-cool-never-speak-our-name people.

The Teapot is Cracked

Famous People Swearing - Because swearing is funny.

It doesn't pay to open your mail. If I hadn't, I would never have read about the changes slated for my chequeing account at the CIBC. And really, it's the last straw. It irks me to no end that banks make billions of dollars yet they are always nickel and diming you for everything! This time they upped the min balance to $1500 in order to avoid bank fees and added a 2.5% admin fee on money withdrawn outside of the country. I strongly dislike them and am ready to divorce myself, which is going to be a messy situation. They have thrown me into the arms of a new lover, PC Financial.

Did I ever mention that I have an atom feed?

How to tell when a relationship is over Thankfully, I only show a couple of the signs ;)

Midday napping is dangerous. There should be a warning label.



No apparent reason why I was so tired or exhausted but I guess I must have been, because as I was reading in bed I dozed off for four hours. Nothing can really explain it. Perhaps it was the way the sun was floating about the room, how it heated the blanket I was under, how closed eyes seemed better than open eyes or that my desire to go the gym was easily circumvented by a Sunday afternoon cat nap. All I know is that it totally messed up my sleeping pattern and I was stuck captive in my bed waiting for the onslaught of REM sleep for a good portion of the night.

What's this? Who signed me up as Rafi's latest whipping boy. Wait, now that I have said that it sounds really really bad.

Who are these people that get married in Vegas, and why do my friends think that I am one of them. Just because Britney got married to a friend while in Vegas for a weekend retreat doesn't mean I should. Maybe it does, after all I will be in Vegas and I have been known to cave to peer pressure on occasion. And, I am sure that the girlfriend would be okay with it if I had it annulled right away.



It's much easier to plan with the guilt out of the way.

Blogging Off



Listen. My name is Whitney Pastorek, and I do not have a blog. I am not on Friendster, I do not live in Williamsburg, and I do not think Death Cab for Cutie is a particularly great band.



But I exist. I am a good person, a good friend, and my thoughts and opinions have weight and merit. The bloggers do not control me—they only control each other and massive amounts of bandwidth, which isn't even a real thing, just something made up by web-hosting companies to charge more! People! If you find yourself on the lower levels of the B.C.S., join with me in saying NO! NO to letting them diminish our self-worth! NO to letting them drag us out to flash mobs! Turn your faces to the sun! Stand and fight!

And where do you fit in? Study: Blogging Ain't All That

I thought I could turn my back on this site, abandon it so to speak to wild monkeys to pillage and plunder and move on with my life. It's turning out to be harder than I thought. There is something more to it than I can put my finger on.



In the fourth Harry Potter book, Harry finds himself in the Headmaster's Office surrounded by magical paraphernalia and other such gadgetry but what draws his attention above all that is a bowl full of a liquid, which in my mind must have looked like mercury. Anyway, it turns out it's a pensieve, a device used to extract thoughts so the owner can examine them in a better light. This site has somehow become my pensieve, even though I have been limited by what can be posted here. Work has become off limits and over time my personal life seems to have as well.



What this means, I have no idea. Part of me wants to move on, while another is holding back. Holding onto something that I can't achieve, something that I can't let go of even if I should.

One day this to will be gone. It's time to sweep this carcass under the rug and move on. It's been fun folks, but I must bid you all adieu.

The older I get the more difficult I think this whole parenting thing is going to be. Spending the weekend at home doesn't seem to be complete without some sort of challenge to over come. There is always a fight waiting to happen over something I feel is so incredible trivial, but some family member can't hide their disdain for the latest scheme or plan I come up with. This time it was about wanting to go to Las Vegas. Why or why would anyone want to go there? I quipped that I wanted to go to Sin City for the cheap whores and the gambling, that's all you can do in Las Vegas after all!



The older I get the more differences I notice between myself and my parents. Mostly the little things: how we spend time, what we want to eat, what we watch on tv, what we find fun and opinions on just about anything. It must be hard to look at your child and see a stranger staring back at you. Someone who seems so different from you, with only a past in common and struggling to find a new ground to bridge the differences.

Weird - Parents say kid's thong is just plain wrong

CBC Television - Snakes and Ladders

Snakes and LaddersAn actual (another?) CBC show that I like. At first I was thrown off by the unique shooting style, not as jittery as Blair Witch and not as smooth as dead pan. But, you soon become invovled in the story.

I think the perfect Valentine's Day card would go something like this "All the other cards were crap so I chose this one" and inside you could write whatever you wanted. If that card were available I would even be able to endure all the things that make me loath the cards in the first place, mainly all the hearts, red and pink, glitter and little pictures of Cupid which hauntingly resemble a mix of a fat poodle and your cousin. But alas, that card doesn't exist. It's just another BradCorp idea.

Rule of the Bone: Russell Banks - Reading a book like this makes me feel like I didn't do enough as a kid. I didn't grow dreadlocks, have some crazy tattoos etched on my forearm, or run away an life in Jamaica. But, it does make me thankful that I wasn't kicked out of my house when I was 14 and I didn't end up living with wanna be bikers and dealing ganja at the mall to preteens. It's not as though something is missing from my life, but don't you think it would have been cool to have a few more adventures while growing up. Some minor ones at least like the obligatory house party gone wrong when you parents leave for the weekend. The kind where the cheerleaders drink too much and vomit on the back lawn and someone is bound to hook up on your parents bed. Unfortunately my parents never left the house longer than a couple of hours and I never had the opportunity for such an event.



Banks wrote a compelling novel not entirely upbeat, but not entirely depressing sending you into a spiraling depression either. It made me think about my own life, and want to read as much as possible because I was never quite sure what to expect next.

All Families Are Psychotic - Douglas Coupland: I guess it can only be a good sign if you shout out 'Oh Fuck' while you are reading a book right? It was totally fascinating in that as I read it, I couldn't believe how messed up this family was and how much I had been sucked into the shenanigans. How can you stop reading after Ted just shot his son, and the bullet went right through him and into the gut of his ex-wife Janet?



Coupland's narratives constantly weave around making for a complete story that in the end may came to an unrealistic end, but at least it's a happy one. I once read that all his characters are too similar, sort of how everyone on the Gilmore Girls does that whitty banter thing, but I didn't notice that or at least allowed it since they are family. Definitely a nice way to spend a day reading.

I think my iPod is a major fan of Dashboard Confessional. It always seems to be randomly selecting them. Not that I dislike them, but how often can that come up when you have 3500+ songs? There must be something else it likes, perhaps a little 80's or canadian indie and a little less emo.

Most of the time I have no issues with being tall, but lately I seem to be thrown in situations where it's hard not to feel impossibly tall and slightly freakish. I was at an all day meeting and standing around can be such a pain as I seem to be on a completely different plane of existence; a few extra inches separate me from the conversations. But on the bright side I was a great homing beacon. That aside isn't so bad, what's really been killing me of late is the hallway in the basement of my apartment. It looks normal, but as I proceed down it all the space between my head and ceiling vanishes until there is nothing left and I look like a giant someone let out of the cage in the dungeon. I might as well live on the 13 1/2 floor and really not fit in.

After an artist puts out a popular album, part of you wants every subsequent album to be the same, just dressed a little differently. Well, Hawksley Workman’s new venture Lover/Fighter is not The Delicious Wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing. It’s still Hawksley, though a little more linear, a little more focused. This album isn’t as instantantly captivating as Wolves, but it is one of those albums you like more each time you hear it. The music is a little slower: the perfect setting for Workman’s lyrical genius to shine. He merges words and music in a way that conveys raw emotion so precisely that it literally fills you with song.



Delicious wolves definitely sparked my appetite for Hawksley Workman, sometime his lyrics just pop in my head (it's been fun destroying our bodies). Anyway songs that (don't dive shallow in deep dark waters) I particularly like are addicted, smoke baby and no reason to cry your eyes out. I also think the review above is right, the more you listen the more you like it.

Holy fucking fuck, is it cold out there. Who decided to build this city here? I blame him or her personally for my discomfort. And whatever happened to that proposal to bring the Turks and Caicos into Confederation?  Yay, Turks and Caicos! (http://www.turksandcaicostourism.com )



Luckily we have musical interludes to distract us from the external frigidity. My current contribution is the first album from MUTEK_REC, the new recording label of the Mutek electronica group ( http://www.mutek.ca/index-en.html ), based in Montréal but now expanding, most recently with an electronica festival in Valparaiso, Chile last week.



Down below I've pasted in a snippet of an album review with insider references that I don't totally get. Maybe you will. In any event, this CD I think is pretty spanky (except for Track 11, which I think is horrifyingly scary).  Minimalist electronica, lots of breaks and cuts that work big-time. Check it out.



Bundle up, baby

James



---------------------



Much of Don't Postpone Joy is largely upbeat, falling squarely in the crib of minimal electronic's archetypal, failsafe slickness. The record most consistently recalls the darker, respoked big beats and glitchy quirk of Mouse on Mars' Idiology and the crisp, wiry sampling (and geography) of Akufen's My Way -- although in forgoing a reliance on hooks for almost suffocating builds of cut-ups and added instrumental lines, this duo seems to aspire less to the dancefloor than to some intensified abstraction of its sweat.

The Straight Dope: What is a merkin?

The Straight Dope: What is a merkin?Revealed Finally!

Yatoo Partoo :: A month in Paris, November 2002 It's nice to see that I'm not the only tourist to take a picture with the giant vending machine in France.

Each day past the expiry date seems like a gamble with my life. Too lazy to do anything about it I proceed with caution, hit the appropriate button and pray. The entire ride down I keep harping on the fact that the elevator license is two days past and that there is no way in hell you could fit eight people in this damp cramped space. There is a massive creak at the fourth floor, which is starting to seem normal now. The worst thing of all is I want to call and complain to the elevator authorities 'Hi, the low lives that operate this building are putting the lives of old people in danger. We should do something about this right away before they start making granny pancakes'. I could never do that for fear of shutting the elevators down. I live on the 16th and don't want to start and additional stair-master regime.

Please educate your grandparents what not to do in the case of a fire. I was working from home the other day and the fire alarm went off, which is quite annoying in itself due to the wailing and pitch of the speaker box that goes off. After several minutes passing, I decided to investigate, and was greeted by a slight haze in the hall and a definite smell of smoke.



It was time to leave, after grabbing small valuable things (can't leave the iPod behind), I took the stairs to the lobby. I was greeted by 3 fire-trucks, 6 firemen, 1 fire-woman and a smattering of neighbours. It was only the case of an old bitty leaving her meat-loaf in the oven and disappearing, allowing it to smolder and ruin the afternoons of residents.



Now that I was safe, I was free to make fun of all the old people. I can't believe how stupid or clueless they were. By every elevator there is a sign that says do not take elevator if the fire alarm is going. Yet, old people kept streaming out of the thing every couple of minutes complete with hollow expressions and confusion etched on their faces. Surely these people are candidates for the Darwin Awards when there is a real fire and are burned to a crisp as they glide down the elevator shaft and set free to run around in circles in the lobby.

Any with iTunes click here. This is the funniest workout CD ever!

Apple - iPod - iPod mini

Apple - iPod mini Is this enought to capture the cheaper and more portable model? Who knows, but smaller is better in the tech game. I don't think they are quite cheap enought though. Oh, and let's not get started on the colours. Hadn't they learned their lesson with the iMacs? Why not just have some replaced sleeve?

A Fine Balance, Rohinton Mistry



It took me a while to finish this fabulous tale. It wasn't sluggish, but I was too busy with other things and the holidays. It's better not to devour the book too quickly, it has side affects. There should be a little note on the back saying 'Be advised that the reading of this book may cause slight depression in some readers. Please keep a picture of puppies with you at all times to curb any suicidal tendencies.'



So if you hadn't guessed my biggest issue with the book is that it never seems like any of the characters get ahead, or if they do take one step forward they take two back. I would cringe just to read the title of the chapter, or at some horrible foreshadowing that made it's self known. Perhaps we should all read it and reflect on how great our lives are. Sort of like watching Springer, but way more sobering and better for your mind.



(side note: have you actually watched the opening credits of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy? The Fab Fiuve live on Gay Street, and they cross the tracks to visit patrons on Straight Street)

austausch - whoa black betty (bam-a-lam)

austausch - whoa black betty (bam-a-lam)



In keeping with my theme of compiling mixes based on song titles, here's a new mix I like to call Back in Black. A little Cash, a little Sabbath, a little Tori, a little Zeppelin. Hopefully a little something for everyone.



Happy New Year!



cheers :)

(r)amanda



Set List->

led zeppelin – black dog

ram jam – black betty

the white stripes – black math

metallica – fade to black

soundgarden – fell on black days

the rolling stones – black angel

neil young – hey hey, my my (into the black)

johnny cash – long black veil

danny michel – mr. black

tom waits – big black mariah

tori amos – black dove (january)

pearl jam - black

soul asylum – black gold

the exploding hearts – you’re black and blue

ac/dc – back in black

slayer – black magic

black sabbath - black sabbath

I hate how big evil corporations pull the heartstrings, playing on emotions to drive sales. Heaven for bid we choose Bell because we like their service, but in case we wain there is always that Bell commercial where the grandson calls his grandpa from Dieppe to say 'Yo Wassup, and by the way Thanks', which conveniently runs around Remembrance Day. Now we have Tim Hortons bastardizing the mecca that is Canadian Youth Backpacking Around Europe; By saying that in fact the Tim Hortons Logo is more recognizable to Canadians than the Canadian Flag. I remember back in the day when I was making the European trek that's what I looked for, and when it came to identifying Americans I would just look for the Jansport backpack.