So Im playing a vid game at The Tool Box tonight. Its quiet. Not too busy. Two barflies are playing the game beside me. One skinny, on the game, the other, portly and hanging onto the skinny guy like some drunk bingo winner with a jackpot cheque in her hand. Heres the conversation:
Big Guy: “Halloween. You know what you are gonna be?”
Skinngy Guy: “If all goes right, a marine!”
BG: “If all goes right, Im gonna be a Klingon!”
SG: “First series?”
BG: “God who does that? Who does the first series Klingon!? Come on!”
Grope grope grope…

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.

Seems like Blogspot has become the Geocities of the New Internet Boom, loaded with rabid assholes looking to make a buck by chucking their links out into the Net. I had to put them on my Anitspam list because dickwads are using this free service to spam blogs with “eatmyshorts.blogspot.com” and such nonsense.

Brother Down, Big Fat Hairy Living and From A to B might have some problems linking to me. I apologize for this inconvenience and will resume your links as soon as the attacks stop.

Yours Bloggingly,

Dead Robot

Update: It seems my antispam works too well. All the Blogspot users comments have been wiped too. I apologize for this glitch. This is no slight in any way to your comments, just poor clicking on my part.

I suspected something was going to happen when I saw Sharkboy swerve his bike, small and sharp, at the bottom of my steep driveway. Thankfully he didn’t try to cut to the right or left and just let himself follow through into the slide. His mistake was hitting the front brake in the sandy gravel of the construction site across from the driveway.

He was going at a fast clip when his bike slid out from under him and veered left while his body mass continued, uninterrupted, straight on towards the big pile of sand. Heavily, his body landed on his keys and money in his pocket, making an indentation on his right leg. At this point he was fully free from his bike, chest down on the dirt and pavement, like some errant mother thinking she could regain her youth by bellyflopping down a Slip N Slide. He starts barking out short Ow’s even before he fully stops.

“Are you ok?” I ask as I dismount my bike. Why am I such a stupid dummyhead? The blood is mixing with the dust on his arm and he hasn’t stopped saying Ow. OF COURSE HE’S NOT.

There’s a certain degree of frustrated despair when you watch someone you love have an accident and you are powerless to react. Its like being reminded that the one you love is not eternal, mortal, human. Once I watched my Da slip at McDonalds and land right on his ass.

Sharkboy was more embarassed than anything else. So I held off on the “Neeeyaaahahahahah!!!” until later while we were cleaning his wounds.

“Please! Let go of my foot! I have kids waiting at home!!”

We rented Death Race 2000 and Last House on the Left and without knowing it, Martin Kove was in both. Eeeerieeee dooo doo doo doo! He’s like Jon Erik Hexum but alive. And old. Seeing this guy in two movies from the same decade wasnt much of a stretch since he’s done so much. I guess I’m a sucker for 70s boufy hair and a cleft chin.

I loved DR2K. I thought it was brilliantly sly and incredibly formaggio. The production quality was like watching season 3 of V or the worst episode of Buck Rogers.

Saw The Island as well. Fummm. Typical summer movie. Turn off your brain and smile as it rambles along. Sure there were glaring logistic errors in the story (why the elaborate hologram? Why not just put them on a frigging island somewhere?) but I accepted that as SciFi summer fun. Like getting sun burn. The only thing I didn’t like was the blatant product placement. Two lingering shots of beverage labels just before a character took a swig from it. Not cool. I can accept ads in the background as that it’s inevitable that you will see product during your regular day but movies are starting to beat this crap over our heads. So reject Aquafina and Michelob. Please.

Tonight, I walked right past Tim Allen who is filming Zoom in the hollowed out Maple Leaf Gardens.

He had a frizzy hairdo and a deep tan. His skin was terrible: I’ve seen better leather at Ikea. It was like it was for the movie Christmas With The Kranks. Actually I never saw that movie, I only saw the trailer. But you know the part I’m talking about: Tim gets a faux tan and botox for his big trip south and comically spills food out of his semi-paralized mouth.

Tonight he looked a lot like that but with about 10 minders standing around him.

His eyes looked glazed over. Arh arh arh!!

The 4yr old kid jams the business end of a thermal coffee container into his mouth and the mom lazily scolds him for it. Bored, the kid puts it back, slobber and all, and wanders off to the front of the shop. Mom glances at his departure and returns her attention to the goodies in line as we wait at Starbucks. I counted from the moment the mom watched her son wander away to the exact moment she realized her sprog was no longer bothering her by her side. Approximately 1 minute 30 seconds. You can lose a kid in shorter amounts of time.

She yells out the kids name as she’s trying to pay for her Grande bold. No response. She yells again. Nothing. “They can get away from you,” Says the barista, who’s seen this thousands of times a day. I wanted to pipe up and say “And in a store full of kids, this place is ripe for pedophiles,” but that would have been creepy and I don’t want that kind of attention.

Drama ensues. Mom is yelling and has abandoned her place at the cash, half way through her transaction, stalling up the line. I consider leaving exact change and taking my tea (they know me there and reach for a Venti Earl Grey without asking). Eventually she finds the larvae and the drama ends.

Now I may not know the subtleties of child rearing, being a gay man, but I do recognize parental burn out when I see it. This mom, affluent, well dressed, perfect hair (like most trophy moms at this particular Yonge and Lawrence Starbucks), was probably more concerned with how much extra she’d have to run off at the gym if she ate that pumpkin and cream cheese muffin.

I am so using this as an example the next time someone says “children need a mother”.

So INXS has released a single already with the new lead singer, JD Fortune (an apt name until the first album tanks), doing the vocals. And the children’s book from last night’s Martha Stewart’s Apprentice is on sale today in the bookstores. Clever marketing tie in.

Pretty soon we’ll be buying product before we know what it is.

“Great car. What kind is it?”

“I dont know. No markings. I think it’s from next fall’s TV show So You Wanna Be a Corporate Shill?“