Category Archives: You Stupid Dick

One Thousand Yard Stare In a 50ft Locker Room

You Stupid Dick

I’m changing from towel to street clothes and the guy behind and four lockers to my right is taking his own sweet time doing the same. That’s ok, some people dress slow and like to take their time but the thing is, he’s positioned himself in a T-intersection to oversee the entire locker room. A clear view from where he’s dressing to the main isle and when he goes up on his toes, he’s got a clear view into the cubby holes, created by the lockers.

Slowly he dresses. Watching everyone, except for me, for some insulting reason (not that he was good looking). I guess I’m too damn pretty or too easy to ogle. He slowly puts on his underwear, back to his locker (while 99% of us face our lockers when we dress), going up on his toes every few moments to see what’s what. Hey there! Hi there! Ho there!

Since he’s virtually ignoring me, I stop tying my shoes to actually look at his face and his eyes. There’s nothing I can read there. It’s as almost as if he’s doing this on automatic and has probably been doing it for years and doesn’t realize he’s being that “creepy guy” in the room. He certainly isn’t focusing on any one particular person, his gaze darts from person to person. He’s “just looking” in the purest sense of the word, but his default is set to repeat the scan, looping looping looping. He’s freaking me out a bit and I feel a pang of sorrow for his need to unabashedly, wildly look around the room like an expectant prom queen looking for her king to come back with the spiked punch.

I start to whistle “Some Day My Prince Will Come” from Snow White to charge the moment with some bitter malice on my part. He doesn’t notice.

Honesty Makes You A Jerk

Toronto, You Stupid Dick

I’m about to enter the automated subway entrance near my work – tokens and magnetic passes only, please. I’m fishing around my pocket for a token while juggling my iPhone in the other hand when a guy who has just exited the cage doors of the station sees me and taps me on the shoulder. He takes out his pass and grunts a “Wanna go in free?” kind of grunt and makes a motion of swiping his own pass to let me in.

I mumble “no” and continue looking for my token.

He makes a bigger swiping motion with his pass and adds a “viola! You’re in!” flourish.

“No, I’m good,” I say finally finding my token.

I put in the box and push past him before he can count me as his accomplice in his gate scam. His hand shoots put to intercept my token with his pass.

I’m reminded of my refusal to enter Wellesley subay station a couple years back. The situation then was different, I was willing to pay then. This was just a blatant gate hop (like street gangs do in NYC movies).

I’m faster than him and my token falls before his card swipes. I push the gate and enter.

The TTC felon mutters “Asshole.”

Forgetting Yourself

Queer stuff, Travel, You Stupid Dick

A story from our recent camping trip:

We had packed up the car on the last day of camping and said our goodbyes to the three women across from our site, offering up our remaining wood for them to use. We get into the car and start to drive away.

We almost got to the campground’s front gate when SharkBoy remembers the clothesline still hanging between some trees back at the site. How he did an inventory in his head of the car’s contents while he drove to the exit is a mystery to me. But it came to him in a flash and I had to jump out and hike back to our spot. It was quicker than trying to turn the behemoth of a car around and obeying the 3mph speed limit through the trailer park, crawling past glaring tenants who think you’re doing 4mph.

Back at the site, the women are deep in animated conversation and without comment I head straight to the trees to start untying the rope.

I’m considering using my teeth on one particular high up knot, concentrating all my will to get it to release itself and without thought, I fart.

Sometimes the only time you notice a noise is when it stops. I’m not talking about the fart, no. The lesbians had stopped talking abruptly.

Don’t turn around. Keep working that knot. Wind up the rope. Keep your eyes down. Get back to the car…

Where’s The Guy…

Toronto, You Stupid Dick

…who is going to clean this shit up?

I really don’t give a fuck where “Fluffy” is. I do give a fuck that you’ve just made a huge mess outside the subway station, on the street corners and on the bottom of my shoes.

The last TIFF, certain dickhead marketing fucks shilling the crap movie “Weirdsville” did their sidewalk ads with an ink that is still visible to this day after a healthy Toronto winter. This shit better come off or I’m going to download your movie off the internet, burn multiple copies and toss them into the streets.

Rogers Steals My Traffic (And Yours Too!)

Tech, You Stupid Dick

Looked at my stats since Sunday and wondered what I did to piss off my readers. Then I remembered that was when Rogers started their search page redirects. Before, a lot of people were viewing and/or hitting my site through searches.

Now, as you can see, I’ve dropped by nearly 50%

Rogers Hijacks my views

Rogers Hijacks my views

I wonder if I can get a slice of that lost revenue pie…?

As a reminder for my faithful: my RSS feed link is here. Clicking on “Subscribe Now” for Firefox users get all my post sent to them with a lovely scent of pine.

The Dark Knight – a 20 Second Review

You Stupid Dick

Hey Kids, Shelly here!

At the 2 hour, 20 minute mark I thought to myself, how would Bollywood handle this? I concluded that other than the musical numbers, the effects would be much cheaper, but just as “real” and the bits where drama crossed over into melodrama would be a bit sharper and noticable. My mind only started to wonder this because right at the Joker’s biggest, last monologue, we had to endure a theatre staff scanning us for camcorders. Why I went to Bollywood, I don’t know – I guess I noticed a bit of overacting on Gary Oldman’s part? But otherwise, the movie lived up to 90% of the hype.

Yes Heath is as good as you’ve heard but as a supporting actor, as SharkBoy pointed out. His Joker was new and vile and had all the “love to hate” qualities that make a good villain. But he was nothing unless he was doing something to someone. Even at his highest comical moment, he’s inflicting damage on someone else. Without the other characters he’d just be a rambling psycho.

The story is engaging and smart, going beyond expectations for our basic comic book movie. It’s tense and loose where it needs to be and has more twists than expected. And thank god Batman can turn his head in that cowl now.

At this point I want to give a message to ScotiaBank theatre managers: fuck off. You heard me, twats. I am not a criminal, stop treating me like I am. I know that stealing a movie is a crime. Do you see the OPP standing on the side of the highway stopping us individually, telling us speeding is wrong? No, you don’t so you can stop with the asinine trailers about it. And tell the poor minimum wage drones you order into the theatre to scan the crowd for camcorders that doing so right at the biggest monologue moment in the show makes going to your theatre like watching a movie at your grandmothers. Oh and fix that fucking escalator, you lazy dicks.

So in all, a 5 out of 5! But don’t go see it at ScotiaBank.