Testing, Testing

I'm giving CellSpin Soft's free mobile blogging app for iPhone a test spin. Sp far, it seems fairly simple to set up and post media - but limited features such as no rich-text support or tagging. Hmmm. I'm thinking an app specifically for Google Blogger might be a better option. If one exists.

Happy New Year or April Fool's Day?

Two quick hits today.  Although there is much to rant about in the news today, two stories in particular elicit an OMFG reaction. Frankly, I wish it was April Fools' Day.

WTF?

CNN reports that GOP reaction to a controversial parody song "Barack the Magic Negro", distributed as a Christmas gift by party chairman Mike Duncan on a compliation CD entitled "We Hate the USA", is divided.  Well, what else can I say except WTF?

Reaction is divided?  Really?  Even if you accept that the CD was meant as a gag gift -after all, Duncan didn't write the song; it first aired on Rush Limbaugh's radio show in 2007, which is about the only unsurprising factoid in this whole mess - it is at best a joke in exceedingly poor taste.  Show me a Republican who can defend Duncan on this with a straight face, I dare you.  How about trotting out Sarah Palin?

Gov. Sarah Palin (R - AK): I'm telling you, Anderson, this is some funny shit.

Anderson Cooper: Excuse me?

Gov. Palin: Trust me on this.  I speak for the entire GOP when I say, laughing at n------ is funny, funny shit.

Anderson Cooper: Doesn't that show stunning racial insensitivity?

Gov. Palin: It might, if any of 'em voted for us.

Sigh.  I miss her.

The problem with defending the song as satire - duh - is that is misses the point.  When the Chairman of the GOP sends the song around as a Christmas gift, it cannot help but to be seen as a statement.  It legitimizes race as a suitable vehicle for attacking or denigrating the President.  What should an African-American voter think but that the GOP has written them off?

O RLY?

Since the prorogation of Parliament and the selection of Michael Ignatieff as Liberal leader, not much news has seeped out of the federal parties.  At least, until now.  What better way to ring in the New Year than to re-open the debate on abortion.  Frankly, I prefer to have the Conservative "secret agenda" out in the open.  The Tories are not defenders of womens' rights; don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

In an opinion piece in the National Post, Tory MP Rod Bruinooge, chairman of a secretive parliamentary group known as the Pro-Life Caucus, pledges a new era of advocacy on behalf of the unborn.  Mr. Bruinooge illogically compares kidneys to fetuses and raises the spectre of late-term abortions.  Legal or not, I dare Mr. Bruinooge to show me one single legitimate doctor who would perform an elective abortion "moments away from delivery".

Unless Mr. Bruinooge can point to a recent spate of questionable late-term abortions in Canada, this issue does not deserve the attention of the criminal law but is a question of ethics and practice for the medical profession.

Until then, I'll assume Mr. Bruinooge is playing up to the social conservative base of the party - one more round of ammo for the Torys to use should a coalition emerge or the country heads back to the polls.

YA RLY!

Oh, one more.  I couldn't resist.

Providing a great capper to the shitty, shitty year that was 2008, one BILLION gallons of coal waste sludge has been spilled in the Clinch River, a tributary of the Tennessee River.  Congratulations for this epic environmental fail go to the Tennessee Valley Authority.

How many days left in 2008?

The Second Coming

And what better way to announce my return during this holiday season than to invite comparisons to the resurrection of Jesus Christ?  Hey, at least it ain't Easter.  I'm moderate in my blasphemy.

Eating Out or Let's Talk About Lunch, Baby

Yeah, that's a Salt 'n' Pepa joke.  What of it?

I've enjoyed two exceptional lunches this December.  Earlier in the month, I dined at Canoe.  What can I say that hasn't already been said about this legendary Toronto restaurant?  Nothing, so I won't bother to try - other than to add we saw Rick Mercer waiting in line in front of us.  

Last week, our office took our Christmas lunch at Nota Bene.  The meal was great and the service top-drawer.  If  I had to nitpick, I'd say I found the open concept dining room to be a bit loud.

New Years' Eve will find me at Marcel's on King West following the Raptors game.  My father likes Marcel's quite a bit, although after checking his "records", he advises me we haven't dined there since 2003.  This begs the question: why in the hell is my father keeping records on where we ate five years ago?

Hiatus Redux

Why have I stopped making with the funny?

Short answer: my impressive shiny new HP Windows Media Centre laptop is completely fucked. It beeps in agony when I turn it on. The screen goes dark. It turns itself off. It reports numerous driver errors and conflicts. I cannot launch iTunes or charge my iPhone. I blame Vista.

Let it be said: I refuse to blog in safe mode. Or on my mobile. Or on any of another half-dozen other PCs available to me.

Work has been mental so I've no idea when I'll get around to fixing the laptop. Rest assured, I'll be back with a vengeance just as soon as possible.

It's All About Me

You may recall an earlier post in which I coined the term kno' ho', a pithy, somewhat disparaging slang term for a knowledge worker, with the intent of submitting same to Urban Dictionary.

Peep this, bitches.  Now that's what I call teh power of teh interwebs. I'm famous.  Make sure you give it a thumbs up.  

Next up, I wanna see if I can get T.Ur.D. accepted.  

Oh, and this is just plain funny.  So enjoy - and have a great day!

My Cup Runneth Over

I attended the "Everything to do with Sex Show" on Sunday afternoon, the third and final day of what is billed as Canada's largest sex show. Lest anyone out there think I'm a lonely, sleazy pervert - allow me to clarify - I did not go alone.  Oh, I'm still a perv - but I took a date.

The venue was the Direct Energy Centre down at the Exhibition grounds.  I don't know how they divide the space in that building but let's just say I've never seen so many dildos in my entire life.  In fact, I did not know that many dildos existed in all of God's creation. Seriously.  I'd have thought a quality dildo would last a while but people generally and your heavy dildo users in particular must go through dildos by the truckload.

And why am I saying dildo so much?  Because there is apparently no synonym for dildo.  Thanks a fucking lot Thesaurus.com!

We watched the Got Ass show which was fun and pretty hilarious. The basic premise is similar to Girls Gone Wild, wherein girls wearing booty shorts shake their butts on stage to win a trip to a resort in Jamaica.  The very first girl, a petite blond who clearly did not have the badonkadonk to compete - and knew it - shanked off her shorts at the first opportunity and flashed her whole undercarriage - say hello to the one-eyed winking starfish and the ol' beef curtains, ev'rybody, tee hee - the crowd, being Canadian, was stunned into near silence and some polite applause.

I was surprised at some of the exhibitors in attendance.  20-minute teeth whitening?  I don't know about you but I have one cardinal rule when attending a sex show - nothing gets put in my mouth.  This rule will also serve you well in strip joints, burlesque shows, video parlors and porno theatres.  This goes for food, too.  You can wait and eat somewhere else.  Anywhere else.

Funny note - right next door to the sex show?  The Healthy Kids Expo 2008!  I saw more than a few scandalized parents and bemused toddlers.  I love life.

Coda

Not to go all Jerry Springer on you, but here's a final thought about sex.

So, I'm eating in Pizza Pizza, having bid my date adieu at the subway station. These two grubby characters are going at it kinda heavy for a family restaurant, but whatever.  It isn't my place to say.  I know if I was reduced to making out in a Pizza Pizza, I'd be reconsidering some of my life choices but maybe that's just me. When a tit pops out, though, that's when I know it's time to go.  Plus, they spotted me.

Look! Did You Hear That?

More music for you, faithful readers.  Non-believers can listen too, although come winter we're gonna stack 'em like cordwood and light the pyres to ward off the snow.  What?  Too biblical?  Too apocalyptic? You won't say that when we're neck deep in drifting snow.  That's when people go cannibal.

Anyway, I'd like to highly recommend Dear Science by TV On The Radio.  I'm not quite sure how to describe this band . . . sometimes I think I'm hearing Peter Gabriel, or the Chili Peppers, or Radiohead, or Justin Timberlake, or Vampire Weekend, or the Talking Heads.  I could go on but why not give the very mellow Family Tree a listen?  I wish I could say it is indicative of the whole album but really, you have to listen to the whole thing.

And it dinnae get more Scottish than Glasvegas.  I can't say I'm a drooling fan but I do like Geraldine.

So turn on, tune in and drop out, fellow babies!

Oh, The Delicious Irony

After all this William Ayres bullshit and "palling around with terrorists" nonsense, it is with deep and fulsome satisfaction that I tell you The Washington Post is reporting that posts on jihadist and al-Qaeda related websites express strong support for John McCain, who they see as most likely to continue in the financially-ruinous warmongering footsteps of President Bush.

I'll Take "Pizza Toppings Ending in -ism" for $200, Alex

I'm sorry but what is all this nonsense wafting up from south of the border about socialism?  Or more particularly that Obama is a socialist?  Go ahead, Google "Obama" and "socialism", and see what you get.  Or watch CNN blowhard Glenn Beck wax nostalgic about the menace of Marxism, if you can stand it:

Dude, when someone has a piece of pie that amounts to a crumb and, oh, I don't know, say Bill Gates has a piece of pie the size of Mount Everest, then I think Bill can spare some pie.

I've never understood why the American electorate gets all worked up about shit they clearly do not understand.  It's like they think the political spectrum goes conservatism - liberalism - socialism - heathen communism and America is sliding down a slippery chute to hellfire and damnation.

I don't particularly like partial nationalization of the banking system either, people, but an emergency is an emergency.  Let's all remember this is happening on Bush and the Republicans watch; it isn't Senator Obama injecting - love that euphemism, by the way, like a giant dong stuffed with dollar bills - into the banks.

Huh?  It's supposed to mean a needle?  Injected into a sick patient?

Whatever.  I guess I'm wondering how "spread the wealth around" became some kind of smear against progressive taxation?  I guess I'm wondering how you can convince so many people to consistently vote against their own self-interest as a matter of principle?  I'm wondering why someone can't give Joe the Plumber a smack and say you benefit when those who have the most pay the most!

Dumbass.

Blog, Interrupted

Right, so the reason why this blog has basically been on hiatus after a very promising start is simple really: sex.  Lots and lots of incredible sex.  With a girl.  

In other words, I got my priorities straight.

Ooh, Shiny

Get a load of this vehicle.  I took this picture while walking downtown the other day.  Apparently, it is a rental!  You can check out the website on the side of the thing if you want (www.gtaexotics.ca); it didn't display so well on Chrome so I hope it works in whatever browser you use.

It's called a G2 and it costs $299 a day to rent!  Plus a $5000 security deposit!  Of course, if you want to save some cash, you can get the weekly rental package for $1399.

Ummm, hello?  Economic meltdown?  Good luck, guys, but I'm thinking the market for luxury rentals just went in the crapper.

So, if we go there, will there actually be something to see?

That, in a nutshell, summed up the reaction of two nice American ladies in Dundas Square last night during Nuit Blanche - who could not understand why everyone was standing around when there was no "art" nearby.  Now, as someone who once famously and cluelessly starting mocking the arts in front of this girl I was hoping to mack only to discover said girl was an art history major, I suspect I am only moderately more qualified to explain Nuit Blanche to tourists than, say, the clearly drunken frat-boy jackasses wandering around asking hey, anybody seen some art, yo?

Nice though they were, I'm afraid the ladies didn't really get it.  The conversation went something like this:

Lady #1: Excuse me, why is everyone standing around here?

Me: It's Nuit Blanche.

Lady #2: We know, but why is everyone standing around here?  

Me: I think you can get maps here.  It's a good place to wait for friends.

Lady #2: What are you doing standing here?

Me (holding up map): Ummm, I came to get a map and I'm waiting for friends.

Lady #1: But is anything happening here?

Me: Well, there's a big stage over there.  Maybe something will happen on stage.

Lady #2: But there's no art here?

Me: I think that guy over there in the wooden tower shining a spotlight on people is one of the artists.

Ladies (together, incredulous): Really?

Me: Yes.  I think most of this stuff is conceptual art, performance art . . . stuff like that.

Lady #1: And you need a map?

Me: Uhhh, there's lots to see and downtown is pretty big.

Lady #2: Where are you going?

Me: I'm going over to City Hall, there's a big blinking light installation thing I want to check out.

Lady #1: So, if we go there, will there actually be something to see?

Me: Ummm, blinking lights?  I hope so.

I thought the Stereoscope City Hall installation was super-cool.  I believe it was the first time I ever went up the pedestrian ramp to the roof. They were playing some slow techno along with the blinking lights - very trippy and a lot of fun.  Too bad they can't leave it in place but I guess people want their office windows back.  Selfish bastards.

Generally, I checked out some of the larger multi-media presentations in Zones A and B.  I thought Zombies in Condoland was a bit of a bust, as the crowd far outnumbered the undead, at least when I was there around midnight.  I really liked Business Class; I sat and watched that for quite a while, and only after some time did I start to wonder if all the supposed experts were even in that damn Airstream trailer, which I suppose is one of the points of the piece.

I also checked out Commerce Court, the common and the tense, Turbulence Sound Matrix, Benefit of the Doubt, the ducks in Devonian pond at Ryerson, Into the Blue, Fifteen Seconds (the guy in the sniper-tower with the floodlight), Waterfall and a few other things before chowing down on a chicken shwarma and heading home.

If you live in Toronto and can't drag yourself out to awesome - and free! - civic events like Nuit Blanche, you're really missing out on what the City has to offer.  That's right.  I'm more urban than you.  Suckas.

U R TEH FAIL

Right, so I'd say going more than 10 days without posting earns me the Lazy Bastard award for this month, or at the very least a comment along the lines of you fail at blogging.

That's not to say interesting stuff didn't happen.  I was just too busy - doing interesting stuff or having interesting stuff done to me or recovering from same - to post.  Mea culpa, mea culpa.

You Fail at Taxi

Went to Octopus recently, by which I mean the joint on Palmerston just off College and not the defunct Octapus Lounge which will get you out on Queen Street West.

It looked like a garage, I guessed it was a garage and hey, guess what?  It's a garage.  It isn't a big club by any stretch of the imagination and felt crowded at times but I enjoyed the music.

Note to all you faithful readers: getting drunken friends home is infinitely easier when said friends do not threaten to jump out of the taxi.  Uttering this threat is a surefire way to get kicked out of the cab some distance from your final destination.  Of course, when your friends decide to start the evening at Sneaky Dees, the thirty-something in you oughta know you're in for one serious gong-show of an evening.

You Fail at Foreign Relations

You've all seen this right?  Makes me cringe.  Incomprehensible.

You Fail at Failing

Yeah, this is my little tribute to the FAILBlog, a funny collection of failure that one of my Facebook friends turned me onto.  Here's my personal favourite.

I'm going to hell!  And I fail at embedding images!  It's a meta-fail. Tee hee!

Here's another in the spirit of one of my earlier posts!

So go check it out!

Holy What?

If you like electronic music and you aren't listening to Toronto's own HolyFuck, give yourself a slap upside the head.  Lovely Allen is easily my new fave tune.  Also, if I'm not mistaken, the Tories refused them an arts grant because they took issue with the name of the band.

Plus, they play the Phoenix on September 25!  I gotta get me some tix.  Who wants to go? 

This isn't the official video but it seems to have better sound than the one on YouTube that features the actual band.  Or check out their MySpace page for lots more cool music.  Enjoy!

While we're at it, whyncha look at the video for Ghosts by Ladytron. That name alone almost gives me a nerdgasm.

You Know Who You Are

There are plenty of blogs and even twitterers out there devoted to the TTC - go ahead and Google it, I'll wait - but I'm not going to let that stop me from chucking in my meaningless two cents.

People who fart on the subway during rush hour deserve to be locked in a steel cage with Dick Cheney, a rabid wolverine and an active cannister of tear gas, then submerged alive in a septic tank and left to battle each other to the death.  

Dick Cheney has never lost this fight.

Won't Someone Think of the Pornographers?

Used to be, porn and the internet went together like . . . well, apologies to RZA, but . . . like cheese and cheddar, like jeans and sweater, like mo' and better.  Turns out, market research firms like Hitwise have been tracking the data and concluded some time ago - as reported in The Economist (April 19, 2007 - subscription required) - that social networking sites and related searches would soon overtake visits to porn websites.

See?  Lookit the graphy thing I grabbed off the web somewhere.  They didn't attribute it to The Economist but I've been stuck in enough airport lounges to recognize one of their graphics anywhere.  I could be tied face-down underneath a rickety bus in rural China and I'd still recognize that magazine if we ran over it at 60 miles an hour.  So, it's from The Economist.  Don't sue me, you uptight twats.

Well, friends, what should be a red-letter day for asexual prudes and ummm, maybe eunuchs or clones with no genitals . . . has finally arrived.  Hitwise's own Bill Tancer in a recent interview indicated that "surfing for porn had dropped to about 10 per cent of searches from 20 per cent a decade ago, and the hottest Internet searches now are for social networking sites".

Take it with a grain of salt because he also says people have an irrational fear of elbows.  I said huh?  I mean, come on people. Elbows?  You have a phobia regarding bony, wrinkly, dry skin? You think some rotten old hobo is gonna jump you while you're out for a promenade, jam his saggy, yellow elbow-flesh in your mouth and say lick it like that, bitch? 

On second thought, that sounds nasty.  Put me down for that one.

How mysterious that this momentous event coincides neatly with me joining Facebook.  Once again, I'd like to take full credit for this demographic upheaval. That's right, it was all me.  Actually, I'm not surfing any less porn.  I just spend even more time on Facebook.

Speaking of Stabbings

Hey, look what's going on in my back alley tonight. Is it just me or is knife-play in this city on the rise? I think I need to start carrying a shiv: in case of deranged crackhead motherfucker, use sharpened toothbrush. It's either that or a screwdriver. Nasty bit of work, taking a steel-shank Phillips-head screwdriver in the ear.

Bar Exam

Out last night at the Unicorn - and no, it's not a gay bar, although it kinda sounds like one - celebrating a friend's birthday. Here are some things I learned -

5. In case of confusion, you may want to wear a T-shirt that says I like big dick.
4. In a hurricane, it is acceptable to get wasted in a kids' playground.
3. If there is a big creamy shot coming towards your face, and you didn't order Bailey's or Kahlua, you need to duck.
2. Asking a woman to sit on your face is not the proper way to speak to a lady.
1. As the lone man in a group of women, your odds of being called a boy-whore escalate dramatically.

I also learned that you do not want to stab anyone at the Cloak and Dagger because the locals will beat your ass. Glad to hear everyone is safe and sound!

Clip Show!

Only 11 posts in and I hate to go all Gen-X'er self-referential on you but I think we're going to follow up on a few of my previous posts.

OMFG, Zoran Markovski

In one for the "spoke too soon" file, the local Green Party candidate has also opened a campaign office on the Danforth. Yes, it's a hotbed of political activity around here.

Personally, I hope this is a sattelite office or something - because there isn't much in there except a table and chair and a bunch of signs. By comparison, in the few days since my last post, both Minna's and Churley's election headquarters have been transformed into something resembling a proper office and not some bizarro Dunder-Mifflin warehouse.

Even funnier are Minna's signs - clearly recycled from previous campaigns - that have a big ol' strip of red tape on them barely covering up the words "Paul Martin's team". I don't know why this cracks me up, it just does.

May May Debate? Debate

Yeah, I ripped off that header from the Toronto Star. In more Green Party news, Elizabeth May will be allowed to participate in the federal leaders' debates. On behalf of the blogosphere and supporters of democracy everywhere, I'd like to take total credit for this exciting development. That's right, it was all me.

Vote Churley, We've Got Parking

Hey, look here, a comment. From someone I don't even know. The campaign slogans just keep coming. They practically write themselves!

Maybe It Does Matter

The latest Gallup poll shows McCain/Palin leading Obama/Biden. I'm telling you, American voters are like Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis driving off the edge of the Grand Canyon at the end of Thelma & Louise. Get ready for another big "fuck you, world" from our friends in the States.

Give Me Some Tongue

Well, crap.  I was going to talk about sex.  I did not intend for politics to become an ongoing theme of this blog but since it seems to be wall-to-wall elections around here, politics has kinda taken over.

Today's news is that Green Party leader, Elizabeth May will be barred from the upcoming federal leaders' debates despite the fact that there is a sitting Green MP in Parliament.  Now, I know in my last post I sounded a clarion call of support for the local Green candidate in my riding, Zoran Markovski - God, he sounds like a second-tier 007 villain . . . and now, Mr. Bond, you will compost - but frankly this fucking pisses me off.  It should piss you off too, if you care one iota for democratic ideals.

According to the networks, three parties indicated that their leaders would not participate if May had been allowed in.  Oh, really?

First off, if true, then network TV in this country is run by a bunch of pussies.

Second, call their bluff.  Set up the stage with five podiums and double-dog-dare the Tories, NDP and Bloc to not show.  Give a national stage, in English and French, to Stephane Dion and Elizabeth May.  How could the Tories or the NDP sit out and allow their opponents the chance to wreck them in prime-time without the opportunity to rebut?  

It would be a big eco-love-in.  You could put three plants on the empty podiums for the no-show leaders . . . say, a ficus for Duceppe, some kind of moss for Layton and how about a great big freaky tongue orchid for Harper.  That would be great.  I can see it now -

Dion: And that's why we must reduce our commitment in Afghanistan.

Ficus: . . .

May: Don't forget that the Green Party is most credible on the environment.

Moss: . . .

Tongue Orchid: . . .

Dion: Mr. Harper fucking stinks up here.  Can I get some more water?

Wow.  Gardening humour.  Two weeks in and this blog jumps the shark.

As an aside, a big fuck you very much to Jack Layton, who never misses an opportunity to show that someone on the left can be just as big a prick as someone on the right.  Refusing to support the Greens in this matter may be a smart strategic move but it undermines the party's commitment to the very democratic ideals that are supposed to be the heart and soul of the NDP.

Third, I seem to recall a time when the PCs were reduced to two seats in the House of Commons and Jean Charest wasn't excluded from the debates.

There is no good reason for May to be excluded from the debate other than the other parties stifling the democratic process and the networks rolling over like dogs.

Go sign this petition.  

Election Fever!

For those of you that may have been holding out hope over the past week that all this federal election talk was just nonsense, I hate to piss in your Cheerios but the local candidates in my riding (Beaches - East York) have their campaign offices rented and ready to go. Two of those candidates' offices are right near my apartment. Let's have a look, shall we?

Maria Minna, Liberal

Minna is the incumbent. She first won election in 1993 and has held the riding for the Liberals ever since. She has blown out her opponent in every election except the last one, when Marilyn Churley (NDP) made the race competitive.

Like a lot of other storefronts on this stretch of the Danforth, this unit tends to be vacant most of the time. Every now and then, some business will open here but it never lasts. This particular unit has been home to several campaign offices over the years. If memory serves - always a risky proposition - the NDP has run federal, provincial and local candidates' campaigns from here several times, including Churley's in the last campaign, at least one of Peter Tabuns' campaigns (provincial, I think, I seem to recall a by-election), I believe City Councillor Janet Davis has used it and I'm pretty sure Michael Prue has used it too, which makes sense because his constituency office is just across the street. I should add, Minna's constituency office is also just a few doors away. Let's hope it brings Minna as much luck as it brought Churley in the last go round.

Most recently, I believe this place was some kind of karate dojo althought it has been vacant for a while. Apparently the martial spirit still prevails because Minna's got enough sharpened stakes in there to wipe out a rampaging legion of vampires. Or opposing campaign workers.

Marilyn Churley, New Democratic Party

With Minna snaking the NDP out of their traditional vacant storefront blight, Churley's campaign has snagged this attractive bit of retail space - a former pawn-shop next door to a former rub-and-tug that was raided and closed down by the vice squad a few months ago. Yes, this is an impressive neighbourhood I live in. I wonder, why not go all out and rent the jizz palace? Too close to the kind of work the NDP usually performs in the House of Commons? Oh wait, insert traditional joke about sucking and blowing at the same time here.

If you can`t tell, I`m kind of sour on Canadian politics. Anyway, the pawn shop didn't last long in that location before it had to downsize to a smaller store. Prior to that . . . oh, who fucking remembers. There are so many vacant storefronts here, this part of the neighbourhood and points east and south really are in decline at the expense of the affluent Beaches.

Zoran Markovski, Greens

I don't have a picture of Zoran's office because it isn't around here. The local Green Party website says his nomination meeting was held at the Beacher Cafe on Queen Street in the Beaches. Well, I guess we now know where the upscale eco-positive crowd lives in this riding. Zoran, baby, bubbelah, I don't know who you are and, frankly, I don't care - but I'll probably vote for you because I hate, hate, hate, fucking hate everyone else. Plus, you won't win. Can you feel the love? Don't fuck it up.

Who Fucking Cares,  Conservative

Eat my ass, Harper.

Screw Politics, Steal This Music

The only stoner rock music I listen to with any regularity is Monster Magnet - Dave Wyndorf is all kinds of awesome - but I recently downloaded Black Mountain's latest album In The Future, and I'm really digging it. Check out the video for their single "Wucan"; it's like a six-minute bong hit.



Or try some indie-electronic stuff by The Black Ghosts:



And some more indie-electro by Australian group Cut Copy:

Late to the Party

I'm continuing my tradition of commenting on big political news long after it becomes tired and old. Really, what can I say that hasn't been said about McCain's selection of Palin as his vice-presidential running mate? I think I'll let these unofficial campaign signs speak for me.



I kinda like the second one.

Interesting anagrams for McCain / Palin include:

CIA Clamp Inn
Clam in panic (possibly sexist but undeniably funny)

If you could get rid of the "m" in McCain, you'd have an anal picnic! Now that's a campaign slogan!

Pit Stop City

Living above a store on a major street in east Toronto, I tend to see and encounter a lot of odd or perplexing shit, far more than friends who live mere blocks away, safely ensconced in purely residential neighbourhoods. It isn't quite the same as Queen and Bathurst, where I lived when I first moved to Toronto, but it has enough problems of its own.

For example, one thing that I did not see downtown is a lot of public urination.

Now, you and I can argue the relative merits of whether downtown Toronto or east of the Don more closely resembles a public sewer until the cows come home. I'm sure the parking lots and alleys in club land are practically carbonated after a Saturday night. What I'm talking about are the dead-ender geriatrics who frequent a local coffee shop and amble across the street to piss in the park. If I see one more septugenarian's wrinkled hog watering the flowers, I may snap.

There is also a fair bit of pissing in store doorways and entrances on my side of the street. Needless to say, when I actually caught some down-and-out loser relieving himself on my front door, the convo went something like this -

Me: Thanks a fucking lot, man.
Him: Oh, oh sorry man.
Me: Sorry? Does this look like a fucking toilet?
Him: Sorry, sorry. No, it don't.
Me: No, it does not. It does not look like a fucking toilet. This is my house, man!
Him: I'm going, I'm going!
Me: Aww, man, it's running under the door!
Him: Sorry, it was an emergency!
Me: Dude, you're riding a scooter! Are your batteries dead?
Him: No.
Me: Then that's not an emergency! Drive your ass five seconds across the street to the fucking park next time!
Him: Yeah, well fuck you!
Me: You could shove a fucking quarter in the mail slot, at least!

Even crazier was the time this past Spring when, late one cold night while on my way to the subway, I actually saw a young woman shank down her trou and piss in front of the local tattoo parlor. That conversation went much differently, something along the lines of -

Me: What the fuck???
Her: Get the fuck out of here!!!

Not being my door, I got the fuck out of there.

What Kind of Attention?

For some bizarre reason, lately I have had friends and co-workers tell me that some guy is checking me out or looking me over or whatever. Personally, I think it's nonsense. For example, a recent conversation I had with my boss (over lunch at George on Queen East) went something like this -

Boss: Do you get that a lot?
Me: Do I get what a lot? The lima bean salad?
Boss: No. Attention.
Me: What kind of attention?
Boss: Attention from the boys.
Me: Ummm, no? Why?
Boss: Our waiter was checking you out.
Me: Really? I didn't notice.
Boss: He was being pretty obvious.
Me: Well, I'm pretty oblivious. I don't usually notice getting any attention from girls either, and I'm actually looking for that!

I really am completely oblivious. Advice to gay waiters: unless my soup comes with your cock in it, I'm probably not going to catch on. For your sake, you better hope I order the gazpacho.

So, as surprised as I am to hear this kind of comment, I imagine any of my gay friends who may be reading this have been stunned insensate as I'm the kind of guy who rarely pings a false-positive on anyone's gaydar - and in the case of any confusion, a strategic I collect comic books usually sorts things out.

This is not to say that I might not strike up an amiable conversation with a confused gay waiter if it meant getting a better table at a good restaurant. No soup for me though, I'll stick with the lima bean salad.

36 and still single? Fuck you, Facebook.

A long-time Facebook hold-out, I finally got around to registering earlier this week - mainly to keep in touch with some people I've met through a very good friend of mine who has moved to Vancouver.

As I'm sure I don't need to tell all six-billion of you conformist sheep, a small unobtrusive ad typically runs just to the left of any profile you happen to be viewing. Sometimes this is an invitation to join a Facebook group. Mostly, drawing on the demographic information you provide, you see ads that are more-or-less specifically aimed at you.

Clearly Facebook has decided I'm one pathetic mook. Half the ads I see are for dating services, telling you how to get girls or find hot women over 30 in Toronto. Gee, thanks a lot. I guess finding a hot chick under 30 simply isn`t in the cards, though I can`t decide if this is just Facebook being moralistic or pragmatic. Plus, who clicks on an ad that gives you shit for being 36 and still single? When did my Mom start working for Facebook?

Most of the rest of the ads are for fitness equipment, gym memberships, dietary supplements, hair removal and contact lenses. Oh, the postive affirmation just keeps on coming.

Fuck you, Facebook.

The Final Battle

It occurs to me that my description - "thirty-something urban dweller" - could reasonably be shortened to T.Ur.D. It further occurs to me that this sets up a natural grudge match with another acronymic sewer-loving city-dweller, namely the C.H.U.D. or Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller. Frankly, I'd put my money on the cannibals. A hungry monster is a crafty monster.

The rest of my description is the obnoxiously pretentious phrase "knowledge worker", which really just means I'm a thinking man's wage slave. In that spirit, I propose the slang term kno' ho', mainly so I can run around saying annoying stuff like I'm a kno' ho' fo' sho'. I really think that one could catch on. I'm heading to Urban Dictionary right now.

Watch out for the C.H.U.Ds.

Fight Club

Taking this blog on an immediate left turn into celebrity trash hell, US Weekly has confirmed that former porn vixen Jenna Jameson and long-term boyfriend mixed martial arts fighter Tito Ortiz are expecting. The phrase that comes to mind is "genetic slam-dancing". Trailer parks across America must be breaking out in celebration. It's like the 21st century version of the birth of a white buffalo, a sacred sign for the lowest common denominator set.

Have you seen pics of these two? Ortiz is scary big and Jameson is just plain scary in a used-up ex-porn star kinda way. The kid will probably grow up beating the shit out of people or fucking the shit out of people. I smell a presidential bid.

Opening Bell

No one sits down to write a blog anymore. People sit down with visions of writing the next Stuff White People Like or Daily K-OS, landing seven-figure creative deals, and going on Oprah. Friends, if your goal is to conquer Washington or Hollywood, nowadays you need a hook because another political blog or music blog or gossip blog just ain't gonna cut it.

So what have I got? What am I doing that hasn't been done before?

Buddy, this thing is on Blogger, home to the masses. I've got about zero chance of being noticed; I might as well be standing on a box using sign language at a clown convention. I got nothing. I'm not doing one damn thing someone else hasn't done before and probably better. I will at least try to be funny. People tell me I`m hilarious; of course, they`re usually tripping balls at that point.

With that, let me segue to two staples of the blogging scene: political commentary and gory personal story.

Biden? Really?
Somehow, I managed to space on this announcement. I sort of tuned out of politics for the summer, tired of the Democratic primary fight. Personally, I wanted to see Bill Richardson get the veep nod on an all-"We Absolve You of Your White Guilt" ticket or, prior to the revelations, John "Love Child" Edwards. Dude, your wife has cancer. This is what we call "bad press".

I don't dislike Biden so let's hope he can keep the gaffes to a minimum.

As for McCain, I keep hoping there is an unknown Governor Fruit Punch out there because "Catch the Taste" is a slogan that would surely guarantee victory for the Republicans. Apologies to non-Canadians who don't get that joke.

Gory Personal Revelation #1
I have this bruise on my leg that just won't go away. I had an appointment this morning with a dermatologist, a sprightly middle-aged Chinese lady who decided it would be a good idea to proceed with an unscheduled biopsy and sundry other tests.

I leave her office stitched up and with a clear adhesive dressing over the wound. Since I'm downtown anyway, I decide it would be a good idea to do some shopping. So, I'm in Winners - where I might add I got a great Buffalo hoodie for like $25 bucks - when I notice I've popped a stitch and blood is leaking down my leg. I further notice that people are appalled. Apparently, I did not get the memo about accidentally bleeding in public.

I go ask the girl at the register for a tissue and she hands me a roll of toilet paper, saying they don't have anything else. Winners, for god's sake, get your staff some frigging Kleenex. Don't do it for the random strangers and public bleeders, do it for your employees. Blowing your nose into one-ply toilet paper is gross. Talk about catching the taste.