Im in a stall in Zipper’s washroom. Its country night dancing and some warbly music is blaring out of the sound system. I hear two guys talking outside my door:
Bitter #1: “Uh! Country music!”
Bitter #2: “You know what happens when you play country music backwards…”
Bitter #1: “No, what?”
Bitter #2: “You get your dog back, your house back and your wife back.”
I was trying really hard not to snicker out loud…
So I spend the hour last night getting XP SP2 (that’s Windows XP Home Edition Service Pack 2 for you great unwashed) and install it. Hm. A firewall you say? No thank you. I dont go that deep into the web. Virus protection? No, I think Norton’s doing a fine job. Im left with a shield icon in my tray that basically says We’re there for you!. The only good thing is the Pack changed my network icon to a computer monitor with stink rays coming off it that glow when I send stuff out into the world. The bad part is there is a noticeable drop in speed as well as moronic “do you want…?” warning alerts when I visit pages with pop ups or java apps. How the hell do I revert back to SP1?!
I have noticed that I am starting to sound like “Invader Zim” in my head when I write.
DOOOM! DOOM FOR YOU AND ALL YOU STINK MONKEYS IF YOU DOWNLOAD XP SP2!!!! HAHAHAHAH!!
some random thoughts:
• My god would never ask me to kill anyone for any reason.
• Someone needs to tell black teenagers that yelling the word “faggot” inside Wellesley subway station is going to offend someone and that if they want the respect that they sing about in so many rap songs they better learn to dish it out.
• Hey stinky TTC rider: Soap. Know it. Use it. Love it.
• Where the hell is Thomas Dolby these days? Is he Thomas Dolby 5.1?
• I love the following shows: Family Guy (cant wait for the new episodes, or American Dad), Harvey Birdman, The Amazing Race (the only reality tv show in the list), old Futurama (I think they fired some animators last season), Coronation Street.
• Must. Do. Laundry…
we are kept in fear constantly. I would love to rip out the little thing that resides in our ape-grown hind-brain that makes us fearful of the most basic things. I guess without fear we wouldnt have comedy though. I mean look at Frankie Goes to Hollywood. In their big hit “Two Tribes”, who could forget the heavy wang wang guitars and disco beat as a highly concerned British-accented voice instructs us how to survive a nuclear attack as Holly Johnson croons out his hate for Regan. at the time, sure I was scared of nuclear attack. we’ve all had some sort of nightmare where the sky fills with a flash but I didnt once stop to think that I was hopping around to a disco song about survival tactics. in my approaching 40s the thought of even remotely enjoying a song like that now, is enough to make me laugh.
I’m currently re-reading The Fuck Up and one of the lead character states that the current generation has created no sub-culture since punk. The story is set in the mid-80s just as AIDS is starting and computers are contained to uber-nerds. I would venture to say that the only sub-culture this current generation has created is one of the internet. information readily available that may or may not be true. of course, just like punk, the information sub-culture has been sucked up, co-opted and spat back to the youthful masses as fast as you can say “512M of SDRAM“
camping you say? why no thank you,
I’ve already been. pics of the labour day weekend are up and ready for your amusement. (ed – long since deleted – try the gallery upper right hand side…)
I’m also reinstating DEADROBOT for shits and giggles. a couple flash items take forever to load so be patient, they were my first try with streaming SWF stuff. dont expect any updates soon as that I dont have a 3D modeling program anymore and I dont want to reuse the only remaining renderings I have of Ix over and over again like “The Curse of the Pink Panther”. be patient. if anyone wants to give me a copy full version of 3D Studio Max, I will give them a kidney or testicle in return.
sharkboy and I did a switcheroo with iPods last week. I got him a pink mini and took back the 15G that I got for him originally. Kenny the friend went ballistic when we told him calling me a “native Canadian first nations spirited person-giver” (maybe not all those PC descriptive words, but you get the drift. Sharkboy was extremely happy with the trade so it was win/win.
man o man do I love iPods. not too sure if I can successfully operate the 4th gen click wheel yet though, sharkboy won’t let me play with his…
I am so tired at work right now. I am struggling to keep my eyes open right now.
CNE stands for “Cheap-assed Numbskulls Everywhere”. I was prepared to spend a bit of cash this weekend to win my hunny a prize but the carneys are like sphincter-tight conservatives creating diamonds in their anuses when it came to them offering up their prizes. I got a stupid felt rose when I was told I would be getting a frigging Patrick as a prize if I won. hardly a prize. no Magic Bullets around (we didnt go into the home show) but there were plenty cubes of beaver to be eaten. I had one…didnt feel good after. gamey.
I saw Open Waters on sat too. it was pretty good. I cant stop thinking how the ending was a metaphor for independent directors/writers… hell… any creative type… protecting themselves from big budget studios. Go see. I wont spoil it here. if Blair Witch made you sick with the shakey camera moves, avoid this movie at all costs.
Sharkboy and I are trading off Pee Wee’s Big Adventure quotes via email today to amuse ourselves:
“What’s the problem, officer?”
“No problem, ma’am. I just wanted to see that pretty little outfit you’re wearing!”
“Take a picture! It lasts longer!”
I get to wellesley subway station yesterday, to find that the goof in the booth has fucked off somewhere and left a sign saying “Please pay fare and enter. Back soon”. I only have $5 on me and those wonderful new machines the TTC has painstakingly installed everywhere still dont take fivers so I waited. I waited like the good post-catholic boy I was brought up to be. I actually felt embarrassed standing there: white middle aged guy not hopping the gate, like I expected everyone else to be doing. then I started to watch the crowd entering the subway. Of the 25-30 people I watched, only two didnt pay. that is, they might have had a pass but made no effort to take anything out of their pockets: zip, right through. I wont sully their race’s good name by mentioning their ethnic backgrounds. One pair of do-gooders armed only with a $5 bill like myself crammed the whole bill into the slot and were out $0.50. After a while the goof in the booth came back and thanked me for waiting.
Today…the same time, same subway station, same situation. No goof in the booth, and me armed only with a $5 bill. Fuck it. I went through.
Im not too sure what I am trying to prove with this blog. weather people are inherently good or bad but I do have to say that I am always suprised at acts of intelligence and politeness. am I bitter? probably. fuck you for noticing.
Things I wanna say:
Current CD in player: The Best of the Style Council
Current book beside toilet: On the Trail of The Space Pirates
Current Game in PS2: Ratchet and Clank (first one)
Current Gameboy Game: Mario Kart
Current Fave food: Tuna fish subs from Subway
Current time I find myself cursing myself for not going to bed sooner: 12:30am
Current gauge: 8 (still)
Current voltage: 220
I am ready. I am ready to leave my job and live in a park and eat found food. I am ready to kick my cell phone and watch it shatter into 10000 million pieces. I am ready to rip the wires from my wireless router and shove the box down the loo. I am ready to cram my digital camera, pda, and memory sticks into the oven and hit the “self cleaning” button. I am ready to let my iPod’s battery die…and not replace it. I am ready to drop my monitor from the cn tower and see how far into the pavement it sinks into. I am ready to take my rogers digital cable box to the lake and make it swim, then try to skip the remote across the water. I am ready to take my dvd, vhs and PS2 players to regent park and throw them at random immigrants for their pleasure. I am ready to leave my watch somewhere. I am ready to magnetically lick all the cards in my wallet. I am ready to paint smiley faces on all the cctv cameras I can reach. I am ready to stuff peanut butter into all the card readers of any given atm.
can you tell I am reading Philip K Dick? particularly Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said. sooo paranoid of loss of self and identity through technology. not that I am going to do any of the above mentioned acts of techterrorism, I just grok PKD’s fears. I am more amazed that he could see this back in the 70s, long before personal computers and email.
actually I love technology. if technology is the food of life, then recharge that n-cad battery!
I just went to the washroom. apparently I put my boxers on backwards.
I, Moron.
Back from camping (pics here) and boy am I not burnt. I was expecting to be fried since there were no clouds on sunday. Saturday was okay but the clouds would scatter and the sun would shine hard every time I decided to leave the pool area. The comedians “Oot and Aboot” were very funny and complimented each other’s styles nicely. Get out to see them if you have the chance. Best line of the evening: “Ever see your parents having sex when you were a kid? I did! I was scarred for life. What was with that trail of candy? And why the clown?”
Celebrity watch: They’re filming “Cinderella Man” around the corner from my house and the street is packed with old Model T cars and trucks and they refacaded 90% of the businesses. Ironically (?) there is a men’s bath house at the end of my street. They’ve stripped a few trees halfway down so they can do a low-ish shot in the winter without the darned foliage getting in the way. And it seems Russell Crowe signed the window of the computer store I use to work in over the xmas holidays. I bet they’ll be charging more for iPods now… When I got home from work today, they were releasing the extras from the set (I think there was a couple hundred) and they were streaming off the set past me to get to holding. In their costumes they looked like something from “Grapes of Wrath”. Quite freaky, actually.
So today I feel liberated. Scared. Happy…actually happier than I have felt in a long time.
I quit my job today.
Too right, mates. I got a sharp boot to the backside and decided that it was enough dicking around and leave the bar. Long story short: I mistakedly put up a naughty pic onto the bar’s website that the owner didnt like. I got the call Sunday morn to take it down. Which got me to thinking that I wasnt really doing what I want to do, which is graphic design (web and print) and that I am wasting time sitting around cowtowing to promoters and committees that come to the bar with their hands out and faces blank, expectant for you to give them something just because theyre “part of the community”. Coupled with the constant gnawing at the heels of my brain that I was going nowhere and needed to do something with my life other than foreskin contests, I decided to make the jump. My old job will become a contract position where I will only do the website once or twice a month with the odd poster/pamphlet thrown in. I have other leads as well so Im not sitting idly by and wondering when the next bingo cheque will be.
I could be all bitter and mad and tell you the whole gorey details of how this revelation came about…Maybe some day after all this blows over. Im not sure how the owner is going to take my leaving…he may cut me out entirely as some employers are wont to do, or he might still want me around. My leaving is not even 6 hours old.
As I said, Im liberated. And scared. Anyone need a freelance graphic designer?
This Just In…
I wanted to comment on the whole Siegfried and Roy tiger attack thing. Ok, I think these two have been lucky so far that their tigers havent turned on them sooner. I am glad to hear that Roy has mumbled “Dont kill the cat,” through the bandages. But what makes me laugh is this (from the first news item):
Witnesses said Horn defended himself by hitting the tiger with his microphone. The microphone created a crashing sound in the theater when it hit the face of the male tiger
Okay. Here’s the soundtrack to that mental image:
“Down!”
“Raaaar!!”
chomp.
“Aaaa!”
bong!bong!bong!bong!!!
Is it wrong to laugh at this?