Fallen Out
This weekend I finished Fallout 3 finally, after something like 40 hours of running around and killing Radroaches and listening to Three Dog howl "Thanks for liiistening... people!" And yes, I managed to get minor plasma TV burn in from the Hit Points meter. Nice!
I have to admit that using Liam Neeson as the voice of your father throughout the game skeeved me a bit. Okay a lot. He's got a great voice and all, but I got this "pervy dad" vibe every time I heard his voice. Thing is, you have to suffer through the first half of the game while he coddles you and encourages you to grow up smart and strong. Stranger danger!
However, using Malcolm McDowell as the voice of the Enclave President was a stroke of genius. I suggest that for Fallout 4, they please use Hugo Weaving? That man is my favorite villain right now.
I originally didn't want to play this game because the characters looked too much like "Thunderbirds" puppetry, but thanks to SharkBoy's love of the commercial (the long slow pull out while using The Inkspots I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire), he made me get it during the Xmas sales. I was hooked after an hour of game play. Not as artistically intrinsic as Bioshock, but intriguing and engaging in it's multi-layered storytelling.
Now we're on to playing LEGO Indiana Jones, which are a ton of fun for two people (except the co-op can get a bit frustrating if you decide to go off and do your own thing and wind up yelling at each other for not being on your side of the screen). It's amazing they can recreate the three movies in 99.99% pantomime. Or maybe that's testament to the crappiness of the movies? Regardless, the game is a lot of fun with nods to Star Wars all the way through it.
I of course, can't wait until they make the Lego version of this movie:
(video inspired from G4's Attack of the Show)
CP24 To Offer Breakfast Television Some Youthful Competition?
First, let me preface this post by apologizing to all my non-Toronto readers. Go look at my Flickr account, this post will not interest you.
I've steadily been having a big hate-on for Breakfast Television since it's sale to Rogers and its long, slow departure from CityTV/CTV while remaining on CTV's news channel. The choppy and awkward station ID/commercial flips between the two has been like trying to track a schizophrenic family member's conversation who hasn't taken their meds in months. For the last month or so, any fan of Breakfast Television who watches on the CP24 channel will have noticed that when BT goes to commercial, CP24 kicks in with "More On CP24!" teasers of weather and traffic.
Let's just get past the fact that the bumper title is dangerously close to "MORON CP24!" if you're not watching the screen closely...
Besides being utterly maladroit (like that? I have Thesuarus.com open), these extra reports of traffic and weather are an additional assault of already mentioned information (it's fucking scrolling across the bottom already!!), jazzed up with an odd segment of Cam Woolley driving around town and talking about traffic (different idea but utterly useless: "Here's a live feed of us stuck in traffic on the DVP!").
I've posted before about how BT gets my ire: particularly Kevin "I Don't Live In Toronto" Frankish and his need to revolve the show around himself. Even his post-show blog (full of terminology errors - he calls his video posts "blogs"), gets my blood boiling. I'm really glad he's trying to get on board with the whole Web 2.0, new technology thing but it's becoming unwatchable, like your parent trying to email a photo off their hard drive (no offense dad!!). I have to admit in the last while, I've hopped over to Canada AM and have become dangerously close to accepting their dry, conservative pap as my morning ritual.
Until this morning there was a ray of hope...
This morning during a CP24 bumper, in between the weather and traffic, there were two young somethings chatting amicably about their fantastic weekend and how great the weather was. I missed their names and the segment lasted only a minute, but they got my attention... They were young, well dressed, good looking, bright, smiling, energetic and so NOT like the current Breakfast Television crew, that my heart beat faster.
Is CP24 going to cut loose BT and have their own breakfast show of goodlookings 20-30somethings? I'm hoping that CP24 is grooming young bucks to offer a breath of fresh air from curmudgeonly Kevin "I'm Old and at no way at all a Metrosexual" Frankish? Can Dina transfer over to that show if they do? She's the only reason I've hung on so long.
England Pre-Memory – Punch In The Gut
Like George Lucas I'm going to jump back to a time before my move to England with a couple stories that inspired me to travel across the pond. Enjoy!
I'm 18 years old and I'm sitting in line with other hopefuls at OCAD (then The Ontario College of Art). I've not decided entirely what I want to do with my life and my father is getting nervous that he's going to have a live-in son until he shuffles off this mortal coil. I do know I want to stay in the art field but I had not decided exactly where I was going to take my talents. My portfolio, chock full of wildly coloured pastels of muscular torsos I had been drawing for months, sits on my bouncing knee. Compared to the rest of the hopefuls, my manner of dress is utterly "Sears" to their "Queen Street West": one small girl is decked out entirely in leather in her shock Rough Trade look, her hair teased higher than my hopes. This is 1983, remember. I'm there to sign up for their Fine Arts program and let that take me wherever I wanted to go.
I enter the room and here is where my memory shatters up to a point: The room is narrow, almost another hallway. It's dark, or I sort of recall that it was dark. There are three people at a desk and two look through my portfolio. I was so nervous that I didn't catch who everyone behind that desk was. Only now, in my 40s, someone told me that one of the people looking at my work was a student and I assume the one not looking at my portfolio was a teacher or admissions officer. I do remember they asked all the questions.
What were my interests, favorite art period, method, incentives, history, my personal history, more personal history? Suddenly it was over. Fast. They breezed through my work and shut the portfolio. Not a good sign.
Then one of them laid it on the line (and I'm paraphrasing here): I was a privileged middle class white kid who had not experienced anything in life, certainly not enough to create any kind of meaningful art and that I should get out of Ontario and see real art. It was like a punch in the gut. The fact that I was living in my Dad's basement and working nights at a hotel and had never travelled further than , made the OCAD's assessment of me sting a little more.
They were right. If I wanted to be a serious artist I had to go see the real thing. Including all life's little roadbumps that came up getting to those galleries. Of course, for weeks I was utterly crushed and moped around like my life was over.
Then my sister called. She asked how I was and offered words of encouragement and then suggested that I move to England under the Student Work Abroad Program. I can remember vividly how a light came on over my head. This is exactly what I needed to do.
Full Circle
The phone rings last night and it's the Old Audio Dude (my third in line brother), he's coming to Toronto with Heather and The Mop, my incredibly thick-haired nephew. No really, this kid's hair is incredible considering he came from our gene pool of hairy backed, thin-on-top family. He can take solace (or sadness?) in knowing that no Mii editor, no Xbox avatar creator, no PS3 Home builder, will every be able to recreate his large, unruly mane.
I digress.
He's here in town and to give Heather the day to herself, SharkBoy and I are going to treat him to a march down Queen West and a movie (Marley and Me). I think there might be robot shopping involved. Expect pictures. What makes me feel incredibly old and expectant, is the fact that he's the exact age when I started to come with my Dad to Toronto on business trips and run around alone on the subway downtown (yeah, they use to let 13 year old kids wander the streets alone back in the 70s).
I'm slightly weirded out that this is how the legacy is passed on - trips to the Silver Snail with $20 in his pocket, a ticket to a movie and popcorn, chased down with big gulps of sugar water. That arcade is closed so I can't show him that - he's voiced his desire to plug into our PS3/Wii/Xbox combo until his eyes bleed, anyway. If I had more time I'd take him to the Science Centre but that's too late. Oh well, we'll teach him the fine art of shopping. Every young lad should learn that early.
Blog Roll Ups!
I'm dry today so I thought I'd troll off my virtual friends.
Acid Reflux relates a story of his French interviewer being highly interested in his erection while being HIV positive.
Blamblog relates how I felt in the 80s, but without the drinking.
Brokeass Weave posts a preeetteeee pickchur! (NSFW language)
Citywoof has a serious pain in the foot, a night of debauchery and a stolen tryst in the loo.
Got Cris posts an interesting mix tape.
WARNING! CulturalSNAFU hasn't updated since Nov 5...
The Electronic Replicant has a post about... uhm. It's a post where he talks about bluetooth... uh. He has nice colours on his site.
The Fortress of Solitude continues with his Bond Haiku Movie Reivews.
Sadly, From A to B hasn't posted anything since October.
Fresh Ink for Gambrinous With Griffonage. And it's about time too.
Hairy Fish Nuts blows a circuit when a right winged blogger shows some liberal backbone.
I Always Win riles against the machine that is City Hall. I wish I owned a car so I could get mad.
Just a Dude Talking About Life takes us on a locomotion ride. (rest of site NSFW)
Mid-Century Maudlin is old! So he plays young!
WARNING: My Life in the YYZ hasn't posted since October...
My Blog Rules Your Ass has his Xmas miracle gift online for all to see!
My Prozac Cocoon lists the things he's thankful for... and he's not even American!
Nice To See SteveieB proves to us that he is Mark Hamill / Val Kilmer's love child.
You have questions? Phronk has Answers. But not as to why he's wearing Family Guy underwear.
Planet Romach reminds us that Xmas isn't about online porn. Wait... No... I mean "just ourselves". Did I say porn?
Rainbow Dishes is also caught up in the 6x6 Flickr meme. Cute dog!
Ripping Stitches says what I've been thinking last week: Bailout? No! Loan? Yes!
Sharkboy is also in the throws of the 6x6 meme. Of course it's a picture of me in an ugly shirt.
StudioYVR has a taper worm. Ha! Not what you think...
The Mangina Monologues beats the pants off his Dad with a Wii. Er. Playing with his Wii. Uh. Video games. He beat his dad in video games.
Matias N Oz quotes my favorite holiday cartoon and posts a lovely pic!
bstewart23 wonders why there are two people a day infected with the HIV virus in the city of Toronto. I blame online ads.
Bizarre Christmas wishes are the order of the day at tomato transplants. Are you sure she actually wanted to be on a crappy reality TV show?
Turniphed posts the "Cop overdosing on pot" video.
Unsweetened posts about her numerous blogs being nominated for a Canadian Blog Awards category. I'm not bitter. No.
Yarraville posts arty shots that made me have some 'splainin' to do to the IT department.
Whew! That's a long post. If I left you out you either need to post something or I missed you. Love to all!
In Times of Economic Troubles…
...Zack And Miri Make A Porno.
You've probably heard of this movie by now. It has nothing to do with Aptow but does have the post-teen comedy sensibilities that he's been known for and it's from Kevin Smith. The movie has already gained notoriety for it's original posters being yanked in the US (portrait shots of the two leads subtlety getting head) and replaced with sarcastic text next to stick figures. Thankfully, Canada has a sense of humour and I get to see Seth Rogan's happy "O face" every morning on a local bus shelter.
At this point I have to admit that I have a big man/bear crush on Seth Rogan and Kevin Smith: admitted geeks and big funny guys with facial hair, so I'm kind of biased. But after seeing the preview I (and I am sure many others) asked myself "What the hell does Miri see in Zack?" She's a bit too beautiful to be hanging out/hooking up with someone like Seth in my books, but the trailer makes her look slobbish matching Seth's re-occurring character choices of the slovenly lovable mensch. It's typical of Kevin Smith's movies to have one casting moment where you have to suspend some belief (Uh... Allanis Morrisette as God?). But in getting Traci Lords to do a small part might wipe that all out and redeem his past transgressions.
My second admission is that I, like so many of you out there, have always wanted to be revered/paid for as a sex porno god. If my family is reading, go away. I've never acted upon this desire, but there it is.
Husband Meme
Apologies to my single readers who sit there at their monitors with their bags of Collision Chips and Fantas while they wonder where their life went wrong as they look at blogs on the interweb and consider what to wear when they go to the next Bear bar night and oh god why can't they find love why why por quoi???
From Gambrinous with Griffonage:
What is his name? Meesh to the family, Michel in Quebec (there's already a Michele and a Michael in my family so he's contracted to be contracted).
Who eats more? Me. But he eats more in bed.
Who said I love you first? Me. In his truck. I nearly puked.
Who is taller? I am when we're standing in the tub.
Who drives most when you are together? He does. But I get bored faster. Mayblubablublabluuuu!
Who’s more sensitive? I would say we're equally matched. He'll cry at movies, while I'll cry at lottery ads.
Who does the laundry? I do. I expect a call from the police when ever he does the laundry because of his patience. He, however, folds.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? Facing the bed from the foot, I sleep on the right hand side.
Who pays the bills? Our accounts are combined, but he does all the actual paperwork.
Who cooks more? I do. He's a bit to meticulous when he follows recipes.
Who is more stubborn? He is. Hands down.
Who is the first to admit they are wrong? Me. I'd rather bask in incorrectness than fight.
Who has more siblings? I do. My four to his one.
Who wears the pants? We share a mu mu on Drunk Sundays. Clean up is a breeze.
What do you like to do together? Pretty much everything. He's my best friend and husband. I'd not be all that interested if he's not interested. I know that makes me sound like a creepy conservative housewife, but it's true.
Who eats more sweets? He does, for medicinal reasons.
Guilty pleasures? Corn chips in bed.
How did you meet? Sly comments on gay.com chat. Then constant exposure due to both of us losing our 9-5 jobs.
Who asked whom out first? I asked him to come along with me to a lesbian bar outside the city. I wound up making out with another guy on the dance floor.
Who kissed first? It was mutual. In a truck. It was fun. Still is.
Who proposed? He emailed my parents for permission. He then sprung it on me in front of our campfire.
His best features and qualities? Have you seen his backside? Heaven. As for qualities: his anger, oddly enough. It reminds me not to take shit from people. And beneath that, there is a thoughtful, kind, smart person that thinks I'm pretty keen.



An interesting synchronicity is occurring between art and real life: The movie The 
