Look out Interweb! There’s a Sharkboy in the tubes!
Note the fancee schmancee DotCeeAy! He’s all Canadian!
Seal of Approval
Acorn Antiques
When I lived in London back in the 80’s my brother turned me onto Victoria Woods – As Seen On TV. Most of it was your typical Brit sketch com, but standouts were pre-movie Julie Walters and Ed Broadbent as well as Susie Blake, the meddling Mum of Shelly on Coronation Street. Best of all from the show was a reoccurring soap opera spoof called Acorn Antiques. It was one of those parodies where everything went wrong with the low low low budget show. So many missed lines, forgotten cues, continuity errors and technical missteps were jammed into every 3 minute spot. See how many times you can see Mrs O wait for her cue in full view of the camera!
Sit back and enjoy. This is the only one I can load here, but if you like them, you can go to YouTube and see the “non embeddable” versions of better quality!
LOLTyra
Today is America’s Next Top Model day over on LOLGay! Go see my entry and go to the home page and see the rest. They’re all like Fashionable, but not slutty fashionable, you know?
Montreal
We used up some of my Aeroplan miles this weekend to visit with my in-laws at St Jean sur Richelieu. While my knowledge of French is slightly greater than your average Fijian’s and Sharkboy’s parent’s English is slightly better than my French, we managed to communicate well enough:
“Teaad! Beer?”
“No, mare see!”
I do love them. They’re great people.
We stayed in Montreal proper, at the La Conciergerie which did have a certain degree of sticker shock when it came to the price, but the images below show that shucking out $45 per person more than the non-descript Comfort Inn we’ve stayed at in the past, was worth the extra dosh. The manager we dealt with our entire stay was a bit of a character. Strikingly good looking, he came to the door shirtless and tattooed and was chatty enough. However every encounter with him would get us a comment or two regarding how “exciting” our life was because we were married and visiting in-laws for the weekend. He came off a bit bitter. Thank god he had his looks.
Our room came with lay-about already installed!
The room had French doors opening onto a lovely courtyard. Trez jolie!
Look straight up when you go outside and you see one of these crazy flying staircases that gave me quite the dizzy spell to get up to the roof top deck. But it was worth it.
The only imperfection with the room.
And to top off our weekend, we experienced our third flat tire in a span of one year. You think I’d be use to the sluggish feeling of the car and the noise a tire shredding to bits on it’s rim makes, but no. We rode that tire for at least 5KM before deciding to stop to see what was drowning out our driving disco music.
We were told by an Avis official that we could pay for a new tire and get reimbursed so we went to the nearest Wal-Mart in Brockville. My old home town. And now I am going to say something racially charged. Wal-Mart in Brockville at 11am on a Sunday is the biggest pile of steaming white trash I have ever encountered. Simcoe, Ontario is New York City in comparison. Fat toothless people wander it’s isles like zombies and look outsiders like us as if we’re a threat. I kept whispering to Sharkboy “I’m frooooom heeeere!” Sad.
We got home after $150 later. Hopefully we can get that money back.
He’s a Gun
Michael Bay has released hi-rez images of the Transformers.
While they’re uber-cool I have difficulty visually referencing what the robots have transformed from. Old Optimus Prime had his windscreen on his chest. New Optimus has… um… a fender. Just there.
Sharkboy says
the edit will be so headachingly quick that you won’t have time to see details on the robots, so enjoy the stills right now…
Amen!
Foto Fun Friday!
“Hey,” I hear you exclaim, “where are all the pics you’ve taken in the last couple months?”
Why do you dog me so?
All right…
Dan’s 50th Birthday
Dad’s 75th Birthday
And (I’m sorry… I’m sorry…) George Hamilton
It’s a Mystery
I go to the barber last week and he digs around inside my ear with a straight razor…
…and today, 5 days later, I am able to pull out inch long hairs from my listening hole.
I Don’t Know Fashion
I’ll admit it. I’m fashionally challenged. My main outfit is chinos and casual dress shirts (which means usually anything that has buttons up the front) for work with weekends seeing me in t-shirts and whatever is clean. I am ripe for a reality tv show to come swooping in and humiliate me.
But I do know when an outfit looks obviously, horribly wrong on someone. Which gives me the right to bitch about it.
On the weekend, Sharkboy and I were walking by The House Of Lords and spied a group of hairdressers loading up a car outside the shop. They were all dressed like rockers: graphic tees, spiky hair, studded belts, “dirty” extremely low rise jeans. I’m not adverse to this style; I actually like it. It reminds me of my youth. However, one particular Scissorhand stood out: he was slightly pudgy (again, who am I to complain, right?) and was delegated the one to do all the heavy lifting. As we walked by, he finished putting a big box into the back of their car, leaning far to get it in there. And in doing so, his tight low rise pants gave up the modesty ghost and revealed a lot more than I think the pudgy rocker/scissorhands bargained for.
Black cheap underwear, grey waistband. Enough material above his waistband and across his ass showing that when he stood upright, chubby buttcheecks closed in on the fabric. Trapped gitch in his crack.
There are things I know I should see that will change my life: the true unfiltered media from Iraq, the actual ice caps melting from mountains, horrific natural disasters to tweak my generosity gland. I do NOT need to see some plump hairdresser’s underwear bunch up on him when he’s getting sweaty moving boxes. If you have some compelling need to show the world your underwear then why not just walk around in your underwear? And if you do show it off, then please please please spend more than $2 on a pair of under garments. God, a name brand at least!
People. Low rise jeans on a man showing ample underwear/buttcrack is as pretty as capri pants with sandals on a man. No no no no.
Anally Yours, Walt
My co-worker found this on an online spreadsheet site (XLS). How anal is that? They have their dinners planned (with reservation phone numbers) for every day!
I sent the link to Sharkboy and he immediately sent back ours (XLS). Note the proper use of colour coding and room for on-the-fly revisions and lack of dinner planning. Bless his heart!
The fun part is that we’re at the parks about the same time as our anal counterparts. With their thoughtless divulgance of information, we can search them out, and stand behind them in every photograph they take.