We’ve all had this happen. We grew up on a story or book that in some way has touched us. We put the book down and our lives are changed. Our perspective is solidified for most of our lives due to the written words on a page. Thus it was for me with the book I, Robot by Isaac Asimov.

I read a site almost daily called Dark Horizons (dont bother…spyware galore) which isnt the greatest in new media reporting. The author is from Australia but he seems to get some juicy tidbits every so often. When I saw the first report that I, Robot was bought and in pre-production I was happy yet apprehensive. Im still sore from Bicentennial Man and A.I. (Kubrick should haunt Spielberg for 10000 years for that crap ending), so when I heard that this book…this marvel of short stories dedicated to human condition and logistics…was going to be made into a movie I got worried.

The first indication that this movie will be bad is that its being filmed in Vancouver. Oh Vancouver friends and lovers, take no offense, but your fine city is not the model city of the future even with all the street dressing in the world. Maybe Chicago or some place dirty would make a good near-future villa (heee! Evil Panda). I am sure the movie is going to resemble some cheap assed Paul Verhoeven sci fi film (see: art direction for Total Recall).

The other indication is that Will Smith is starring. Okay… Ive read I, Robot a few times. There aint no black lead character. I seem to remember a Susan Calvin as a character that is re-occuring throughout the book. An introverted woman nerd. Not a black male music artist.

The final indication is that early set reports have Will Smith as a police officer. WTF? There’s a reporter who is never identified but no police in any of the stories. So its safe to say theyre deviating from the stories somewhat. Can you read the sarcasm, kids? Mike (from Vanc.) tells me that the set was admonished the other day because of gunfire at an early morning shoot. Gunfire. Im flipping through the book. Nope…other than a massive raygun blast that levels a mountain there are no firefights in it. I may weep openly.

So Im sad. As more stuff comes out from the set I will keep you posted about my utter disgust.

So Im in Pharma Plus returning some of those nearly disposable battery operated toothbrush heads. See I bought a “Spin Brush Pro” and picked up just the “Spin Brush” regular or something. They were the wrong ones. So anyway. I ask the woman at the counter if I could return them but I had bought them a while back and inbetween that time I had gone to Calgary and stuff. The package was still sealed so she said “I dont think it will be a problem.”

…And then just stood there

So I look at her. She looks at me. Then glances down one of the isles.

A moment passes.

I make a face that says, “So?”

“Oh theyre in the basement,” she says, like Im suppose to know who ‘they’ are and why ‘theyre’ in the basement.

Another moment.

“Can…you call them?”

“Oh theres no phone in the basement,” she said all conspiratory-esque.

Another moment.

Actually the moment lasted longer than a standard moment. More like an English Imperial moment. All bloated and confused.

“Is there a snake pit on the way to the basement?” I ask.

Her look was one like a Fembot that had just 1) had its face knocked off…all embarassed and exposed; and 2) glazed over like a Fembot that looked like “Whoa…water…Im gonna explode…”

I made excuses and left.

Totally unrelated: I forgot something my sister said in Calgary as we were driving around with Dad and Donald and myself: “I wonder what kind of package you need for a woody like that?” My eyes bug out. She meant the tricked up PT Cruiser beside us. Oh straight people…

• My sister’s house is massive. I really hope that she can offload it without any loss.
• I also hope she can build the house she wants beside the house she needs to offload. She’s busier than a paper wasp at a pulp fiction convention.
• I wore Government of Canada, Parks Canada rented shorts. I looked like I had canvas diapers on. Mike oddly enough looked kind of like a 1950s dad at a cottage…
• The mountains smell…like pine… We speculated as to whether or not there was a car freshener factory near by when in Kananaskis.
• There are some wicked used book stores in Calgary: I got Caves of Steel and Foundation, Issac Asimov; Salmon of a Doubt, Douglas Adams (I recommend. I was a bit aprehensive when I heard they were raiding his hard drives…Im glad they did); Crytonomicon, Neal Stephenson (I was reading it on the streetcar the other day and this guy punched his girlfriend and pointed at me “HE’S READING IT!!”)

Mike brought me a t-shirt from Vancouver…my second favorite Sushi restaraunt in the world.

My sister took us to the Dragon Pearl in Calgary where they served the best Salt and Pepper Lemon Seafood I have ever tasted. She went on to Freudian Slip-Up the soup appetizer into “Hot and Sewer Soup”. Laughs all around. I got my dad to eat Ethiopian food. He was cool with eating with his fingers but he was more interested in picking up the waiter. “Should I go? I could leave you two alone…”

I had 4 – 5 cups of tea in the morning with the paper. It was heaven. Ive not done that in a long time. Rhino (bro-in-law) insisted on making bacon in the microwave, which was ok, but nothing beats the gooeychooey of fat on a nice piece of smokey.

The last meal we had was at the Chicago Chophouse. $50 T-bone steaks ($5 extra for the garlic mashed potatoes) and (I kid you not) $20,000 bottles of wine. No lie. I had to rub my eyes to make sure the comma was in the right place. The restaruant was total “Beef and Oil” old-boy kinda place with the largest fully stocked bar I have ever seen (to impress the American investors-including the career bartender who knew every single drink on either side of the border, ever) and golf on the bigscreen tv in the pre-dinner lounge. The waitresses were nice in a classy Hooters kinda way. Dinner was about $100/person after dessert.

What kind of day did I have today? Let me sum it up with a song from Spongebob Squarepants:

The F.U.N. Song
(Speaking Part)
Spongebob: It’s not about winning, it’s about fun!
Plankton: What’s that?
Spongebob: Fun is when you…fun is…it’ like…it’s kinda…sorta like a… What is fun?? HERE…Let me spell it for you!

Spongebob:
F is for Friends who do stuff together.
U is for You and me.
N is for Anywhere and anytime at all.

Sea Creatures:
Down here in the deep blue sea!

Plankton:
F is for Fire that burns down the whole town.
U is for URANIUM…BOMBS!
N is for No survivors when you’re-

Spongebob:
Plankton! Those things aren’t what fun is all about!
Now, do it like this,
F is for Friends who do stuff to-

Plankton:
Never! That’s completely idiotic!

Spongebob:
Here, Let me help you…
F is for friends who do stuff together.
U is for You and me, TRY IT!

Plankton:
N is for Anywhere and anytime at all.

Sea Creatures:
Down here in the deep blue sea!

Plankton:
Wait…I don’t understand …I feel all tingly inside…
Should we stop?

Spongebob:
No! That’s how you’re supposed to feel!

Plankton:
Well I like it! Lets do it again!

Spongebob: Okay!

Spongebob & Plankton:
F is for Frolic through all the flowers.
U is for Ukelele.
N is for Nose picking, chewing gum, and sand licking.
Here with my best buddy.

(Laughing part)

Sea Creatures: Down in the deep blue sea.

I truly hate panhandlers. I do. I got yelled at by one today because I wouldnt look at him or talk to him or anything. Fucking dick. He yelled at me that he had a $10/hr job and that he was trying to make ends meet. “you and me both,” I thought. What annoyed me more was that he did it with a drag queen’s attitude. Dick.

Im looking at a guys forearm today on the streetcar and Im thinking I wish I had forearms like Popeye. He was sexy…then I thought about Baloo in The Jungle Book and how that was my first eroctic stirrings when I saw that movie at the Capital theatre in Brockville…the bit where he rubs up against the tree with his back.

I had to perform the second least favorite part of any manager’s job today: hand out a letter of reprimand. He had it coming though and I was tired of everyone making excuses for his behaviour: “Oh is he working tonight? Glasses will be backed up…better get prepared.” or “Is he on tonight? We’ll be here longer to clean up.” or even the classic comment from the other manager: “You know if he ever calls in sick or wants to change from when I manage, I have no arguement.” Why are we making excuses for this dick? Today he didnt even show up for his shift. He was partying too hard the night before and he knew he had to open the bar at noon. He wound up calling at 2:15pm to apologize. I informed him that he was written up and that we needed to talk face to face, could he come in and see me within the hour? Sure. He swans in at 7pm. Im about to explode. He looks like a hounddog with a thorn in his foot. “There’s nothing I can say!” he says (after he said ‘Im sorry’ of course). I handed him the letter, bitched him out and made him sign it. Bitching him out was threatening him with immediate dismissal if he ever shows up to the bar drunk or stoned like he was last week and that he better consider what his job means to him if he’s going to jeapordize it for himself and the rest of us (he had left out some bottles from the night before as well as skivving off from his shift–effectively putting the bar’s licence on the line if we were ever spot inspected). I could feel my anger rising and I was getting scared. Like Bruce Banner scared. Like “holy shit Im gonna lose it in front of this guy”. The other manager could hear it in my voice. I finished the converstaion with “Get the fuck out of my face.” I think I was harsh but the other manager said I was far too nice. After, a second employee asked if I was ok, to which I said “Im ok. Not too sure about him, though,” meaning the slacker employee. “Oh well then, do you want some mushrooms?” he asked. I nearly lost it. I said calmly, “I have to work tomorrow,” and I walked away. Christ. I dont condone drug use…I condone stupidity and poor choices.

I did my drunk Bob Villa impersonation the other day. Nobody laughed. Damn.

Today I spied a new Church Street Icon in the making. The “tranny truck”. Its a truck, one of those new four door jobbies than has a short back end for sake of the cab. Its navy blue and drives very slowly because….ITS FULL OF TRANNIES. Without a word of a lie. Ive seen it twice in three days. And they’re not pretty trannies either. We’re talking “we use to play football” trannies. Big arms, tight clothes and mannish faces. Beep beep! Here comes Terry the Tranny Truck and the Good Time Cabin krew!

I really wish I had the balls to deface ads on the subway. Im too good. Every day there are three or four ads I would want to draw moustaches on the models, dinks on the sports stars, and “Oh GROW UP!” across gay circuit party posters. I was jammed up against an ad today that just made me confused. It was so pixilated that if I were to create an ad like that at my last or current job, Id be fired on the spot. How did it get there? Who said “Yeah that looks ok, I guess” Goddamn that “graphic artist” is walking around with a cheque in his/her pocket and Im eating KD!! Fucker! Here is Evil Panda’s List:

• Current CD in player: Made in the USA:Pizzicato 5
• Current book beside toilet: Lying liars…:Al Franken
• Current Game in PS2: no PS2. In the PC it’s Neverwinter Nights
• Current favorite cat: Lucifer (Mom’s kitty)
• Current Gameboy Game: n/a I do play Breakout alot on my phone, tho
• Current Fave food: Eggplant Parmesan from the little Italian Trattoria down the street
• Current time I find myself cursing myself for not going to bed sooner: 12:30 a.m.
• Current gauge: n/a
• Current voltage: low

Evil Panda is a good cyber friend whom I met real time last winter for the first time after meeting him on a web board years ago (he brought his boyfriend, relax). Hes ex-Navy. Sexy. I want him to come up to Canada (again) and bartend at the Eagle for a weekend. He would get laid big time. He loves Egyptian history and is always calling me Mummy. Okay that was a bad one. Im groping here.

I got some news yesterday on a thing that I cant talk about yet Im bursting to blab. I want it so bad its palitable. It would raise my spirits and make me settled and quite possibly let me sleep more than 7 hrs a night. Oh and challenge me personally and emotionally. I will reveal more later.

So Im stumbling around in the dark before bed and I fully completely stepped in cat hoark. It was still warm. It looked like grey ground beef that had been boiled and rolled across the kitchen floor. You can well imagine I was gagging.

Email from Mike: (I’m posting it here, succesfully stealing content from his blog)

• Current CD: I – Supreme Beings of Leisure
• Current book beside toilet: Best American Short Stories 2000
• Current Game in PS2: Vice City
• Current favorite cat: I love them both DUH!!!!
• Current Gameboy Game: Ben Tover and the Ass Bandits
• Current Fave food: cheese & mayo sammiches
• Current time I find myself cursing myself for not going to bed sooner: 1A.M. PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
• Current gauge: 38w
• Current voltage: very high indeed

Urban Myth or just a rumour? Customer at the bar told me how a really drunk friend of his called him at 3am a while back to tell him that he found false teeth on the floor of the Eagle (the bar I work at). Im oddly thrilled.

Things I wanna say:

• Current CD in player: Eye Spy (theme music to Aeon Flux)
• Current book beside toilet: Understanding Movies
• Current Game in PS2: Vice City
• Current favorite cat: I cant decide. I love them both
• Current Gameboy Game: Advance Wars 2. I hate that fucking game. Im addicted
• Current Fave food: burgers on the BBQ (not much time left!!)
• Current time I find myself cursing myself for not going to bed sooner: 3am
• Current gauge: 8
• Current voltage: 220

What are yours?

I totally forgot what I was going to write about today. Thought Id just share.

Sexy Homeless Guy Update: On the streetcar with my roommate the other day. He caught me looking at the homeless guy and said “Yeah I’d go get him a coffee and a McDonalds Apple Pie too”. Which weirds me out because I was suppose to be the only guy who could like him.