Live Blogging? Why not...

Thought I'd try this ol' laptop out to do some serious running diary kinda stuff.... unedited, from my couch to you..

8:01 - I chose the girls because I can actually watch them all. The guys annoy me, mostly.
8:03 - I like Gina. She just kinda seems cool.
8:06 - Nice enough job.
8:08 - If there was ever any doubt Ryan Seacrest is gay. You do NOT throw another guy under the bus on live TV. What a cunt. And for that matter... two years? That's hardly "mandatory" ring territory. Fucker.
8:12 - Again... the homo is commenting on the chubby girl's legs. Fuck, I hate that shithead.
8:14 - These dedications have gotten boring already, and we're on contestant #2. Maybe this was a bad call.
8:15 - I'm comfortable enough wiht myself to admit I recognize this as a Dixie Chicks song. But I'm not convinced Alaina is doing a good job. And that little thing at the end pushed her over the edge.
8:16 - Randy seems to agree with me. I really hate when the crowd boos anyone saying anything bad. Wow... when Paula says it wasn't great, like...wow......
8:17 - How strongly can I say this? IT DOESN'T MATTER IF SHE LOOKS GOOD, OR SHE'S CUTE!!!! Like, Christ Paula... if that's the only nice thing you can think to say, shouldn't that say something? Hm?
8:18 - I'm excited to see what LaKisha has to sing. She fucking smoked it last week.
8:19 - Well, that wide shot isn't doing her any favours.
8:20 - Paula: Sit the fuck down. You're short. Deal with it... or get a taller chair.
8:21 - I agree with Randy... started off shakey, but I think she ended strongly enough that it was good enough. We'll give her a Mulligan.
8:22 - Since when was he a fashion consultant? I guess that's all he can critique. In other news, the gaydar is up again.... Ryan calls it "Salmon", and Simon calls it "Orange"... now I'm not saying Simon's a bastion of masculinity (well, until you see the chick he's banging), but damnit, man... compared to Seacrest? He's John Fucking Rambo.
8:27 - Dear Melinda Doolittle.... where is your neck? Oh, who cares. You're great. Keep bringing it, and I'm sure I'll get over it.
8:28 - I just got a little chill from that high note.
8:30 - Smoked it. Nothing more to say.
8:31 - I think this chick is actually turning Simon on a little. Now, if he'd just shut up about how egoless she is.... although I agree that she could be a millionaire and stay just like that.
8:32 - I think Randy really took that 100m comment personally. He seems legitimately pissed off.
8:33 - The new disney flick, Meet The Robinsons, looks like it could be really cute and funny.
8:37 - What the fuck is that thing Antonella is wearing? A dress, or a test pattern?
8:38 - You know, I really thought she was a bitch back at the group stage when she and her friend kinda screwed that adorable chick, Bailey Brown or something...? I can't possibly be bothered to Google that right now....
8:39 - Not great.
8:40 - Am I the only person who keeps picturing that mic as a dick?
8:41 - Alright... the dress works way better with the blue and green wash in the background, I'll give her that. Hold the phone.....NICE ASS!! Wow.
8:42 - Chick.... do NOT pick a fight based on Jennifer Hudson. Honey. The judges don't vote. Do you even watch the show? I've never ever watched this stupid show after the open auditions before, and I know that!
8:43 - I'll forgive you for another peek at that ass.
8:44 - Small crack in my floor opening..... is that fire and brimstone?
8:45 - Phew.... guess it wasn't my time yet........ close call.
8:47 - Holy crap... Jordin's only 17? Crazy.
8:48 - She was better last week. Not awful, but it was better last week.
8:49 - Correction.... much better last week. It had its moments, I guess.
8:50 - Maybe I'll give her a Mulligan here, too, if she was crying through it.
8:51 - So you're judging character through song now, Paula? Geez.... someone spike her Vicodin, or something. But really... what would you spike Vicodin with, anyway? Smack? Can someone please look into this for me?
8:57 - Nope. Still couldn't care less about these dedications.
8:58 - Antonella? Still hot. Great back. I wish she could sing.
9:00 - Well, that ended a lot better than it started. Not bad at all. If anything, better than last week... which is saying something.
9:02 - I thought other people were "Dawg"? Now Randy's the Dawg? I'm confused....
9:07 - Huh. Both Haley and Leslie are quite adorable....
9:08 - What the fuck is that accent? Or does Leslie just talk funny?
9:09 - Is that a skirt, or a lampshade? Oh, who cares.... she can wear whatever she wants, too....
9:10 - Christ. What an awful way to end an otherwise lovely performance.
9:11 - HA! Nice dig at Paula's Vicodin addiction!! Hee.... Simon really does amuse me.
9:12 - Frozen sour pickle juice? What are you.... 6?
9:13 - I like Haley's hair better straight.
9:14 - Okay, maybe she does need the volume to work with this song. Which I think she's doing a great job of, btw...
9:15 - Not sure what I like better... she's hot when she's all angry and singing, then she flahes this HUGE smile.... I guess I'm just smitten.
9:17 - Now I'm sad that Simon thinks she's vulnerable. I refuse to let this make me call in. Refuse.
9:19 - In unrelated news, the Raptors are killing the Houston Rockets by 20 with 4:17 left in the first half. Good to see they're coming back after the shit-kicking they got in San Antonio earlier this week.
9:22 - I'm now actively ignoring the dedication videoss
9:23 - Sabrina's blowing hot 'n cold here...
9:24 - Can Paula PLEASE sit down? What is her fucking problem?
9:26 - Seriously... Seacrest is trying way to hard, snuggling up to the girls.. I'm NOT GAY!! I promise!! Really!!!

Well, that was that. Actually, that made for a really quick hour and a half.....

My Head is Spinning

Just saw the new Beyonce and Shakira video premiere on MOD.

So much hair.

So much hip shaking.

So many bedroom eyes.

I'll be back in a minute......

Can anyone tell me where to get a guys' version of this T-shirt?

Or where I can find this chick? She seems cool.

By which I mean, of course, I like her rack.....

EDIT: Okay, I found her. And she's funny as shit.

How sinful are you?

This might be interesting. I was amused.

Please don't feel obliged to post how bad a person you are. If you're friends with me, that's pretty much "guilty by association", so we'll leave it at that.

A Major Item on the List of Things I Hate

When people pretend to be moral police for the whole fucking world.

Please see below, as someone shares my revulsion for this practice by tearing apart an article attempting to do just that.... (article in bold, critique is not)

Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Rick Telander: Moral Arbiter of Our Nation

In a time of moral ambiguity, to whom should we turn for guidance? For a moral code? For a ruling on correct and incorrect behavior? The Dalai Lama? The Pope, perhaps? Our local religious or spiritual leaders? Oh wait -- I know. How about Rick Telander of the Chicago Sun-Times?

Tom (not so) Terrific clearly out of bounds

Tom Brady, Mr. All-American, says he's ''excited.''

You bet.

Informed that actress and ex-girlfriend Bridget Moynahan is three months pregnant and he is the impregnator, the three-time Super Bowl champion quarterback and purest man in the world -- or rather, his agent, Tom Yee -- said, ''Tom and his family are excited about the pregnancy.''

Wow.

Someone explain the sarcasm. Seriously. What should he have said? "I am not excited about the pregnancy?" "I hate babies?" "I am going to retroactively marry her to make this pregnancy 'legitimate' in Rick Telander's eyes?"

And let's get this out of the way right off the bat, here: none of us, especially not Rick Telander, knows any goddamn thing about the relationship between Tom Brady and Bridget Moynahan. Not one thing. And thus, as a general rule, I'd say it is not really anyone's business to comment on what is "right" and what is "wrong" here. We all agree?

They're not excited about the mother or a possible marriage or any kind of meaningful union between copulators.

They're excited about the fact their son/brother/relative has active sperm.

Rick Telander is preaching the Word! What Tom Brady and Bridget have/had, according to..I guess, things Telander read in gossip pages, is not "meaningful." A relationship is not "meaningful" unless the two people are married. Even if they hate each other. Britney Spears and K-Fed had a more meaningful union than Tom Brady and Bridget Moynahan. So did Drew Barrymore and Tom Green, and Tiny Tim and that woman he married on The Tonight Show, and Liza Minelli and David Gest. All more meaningful than Brady/Moynahan.

Just for kicks, here is an article Rick wrote about Tony Dungy and, ironically, considering the Brady article, the evils of proselytizing Some excerpts:

Where does the sports teaching end and the proselytizing begin?

Where do the religious beliefs of those in authority become standards for those underneath, and when and how does ostracism for those in disagreement kick in?

Would someone like Dungy, for example, be less or more inclined to keep a devout Christian player over, say, a devout Hindu?

We are an overwhelmingly Christian nation.

But that is not by design, law or decree, and it seems we sometimes forget this.

Great. So, don't impose your value system on other people, then, is the message? Excellent. Continue.

Maybe the Brady family also is excited about the late-night talk-show jokes that are brewing as I type this.

I doubt it.

Maybe they're excited about Brady's current squeeze, pouty-lipped Brazilian lingerie model Gisele Bundchen, who could become the nanny for the baby, if not the actual stepmother.

Brady is at fault because he is dating an attractive woman. As opposed to his ex-girlfriend Moynahan, who was ugly as sin but had a heart of gold. He should have stayed with the sweet ugly girl! What a dick.

Also, the insertion of Gisele's nationality in conjunction with the idea of her nannying for the baby strikes me as latent racism. Who's with me?

Not that Moynahan is giving this child up.

She made no secret of the fact she wanted a baby when she and Brady were hooking up, excuse me, dating.

Now Moynahan is a valueless immoral person because she declined to...what? Skip the dating period and go right to marriage? Perhaps Telander has never in his life "hooked up" with anyone, thus giving him the right to say this so asshole-ishly. Or, wait -- actually, that would not give him the right to do that. He'd still be a preachy asshole.

''I've been on this career thing for so long, and you look at all your friends who are finally getting married and having kids,'' she told Boston Common magazine last fall. ''I believe in balance in life, so I think I can do it all.''

Never mind the oxymoronic essence of that last statement, the part Moynahan is missing is that pesky part about family.

Having a baby is one thing. Having a baby without a legitimate father is another, entirely.

I think it is probably, in many/most cases, preferable to have a stable two-parent family unit for the sake of a child. That does not exclude the possibility of happiness for all involved sans marriage, especially when the father has expressed happiness at the news of the pregnancy, and both parents are quite financially capable of supporting the child. And I wholesale reject the notion that any unmarried couple is "illegitimate." That is shortsighted and preachy and pedantic to the point of absurdity.

Brady, 29, named one of People magazine's ''50 Most Beautiful People'' in 2002, is not the marrying kind. At least not now.

Hope that doesn't shock you, Bridget and Gisele.

But the shocking part to the world is that here is Tom Brady of the New England Patriots with those twinkling blue eyes and Cleaver-family upbringing -- Charles Pierce's recent biography, Moving the Chains: Tom Brady and the Pursuit of Everything, all but anoints the young man -- and he's just out there sowing seed like every other irresponsible rascal.

Really. Okay. Well. Huh. Gee. Gosh. That's retarded.

Let me reiterate: I do not know anything about Brady's relationship with Moynahan that you don't. What I do know: they dated for a long time. Several years. She is hardly a stripper whom Brady met on a drunken binge. This is hardly a Shawn Kemp situation. This is two people who were seriously involved for a fair amount of time -- longer than many, many marriages, BTW -- dealing with a pregnancy that occurred at the very end of their relationship. Is it the best possible situation? No. It is not. But there is a difference between: long relationship/dad happy about the news and a 20-minute relationship/dad denies fatherhood/mother sues everyone kind of situation.

The troubling part is not the gossip and all the rest of the giggle-inducing tawdriness of this little scene.

It is that babies in our modern American world have become items and baubles, things to have or not have, depending on the whim, mood, naivete, intoxication level, desperation and silliness of the two people involved.

Yes, that certainly describes this occurrence. Whimsical (three-year relationship), naive (29- and 35 year-olds, neither of whom known for lack of worldliness), intoxicated (N/A), desperation (stable careers on both ends) and silly (?).

That Britney Spears is the mother of two children, with her shaved head and utter instability, is about all we need to know of the children-as-accessories mental state.

Britney, meet Tom Brady. Tom, Britney. Britney, Bridget Moynahan, Bridget this is Britney. You'll like these two, Brit -- you have absolutely nothing in common with them.

And by the way -- Brit was married when she got pregnant twice, moron.

Moynahan said, via her publicist Christine Papadopoulous (this is how rich celebs communicate, you know), that she is ''healthy and excited.''

Slut.

Of course, no mention was made as to whether the fetus was equally as thrilled.

If I were a foetus, given all of the possible options for my future, I would be mothereffing psyched to be inside Bridget Moynahan with Tom Brady as my father, knowing that both people were excited and happy about me coming into the world. I am going to be like 6'3", incredibly athletic, good-looking, and my childhood will be filled with the best schooling and care that money can buy. And even if the Foetus Times-Picayune, to which I subscribe, only showed me the few quotes listed in this article, a few from each of my parents, I would have no reason to believe that either of my parents would be absent or unloving. Which is really all I could ever ask for, being a foetus.

(I can't figure out how to make that cool "oe" dipthong symbol. But I prefer the spelling this way.)

It was back on Dec. 14 that Brady and Moynahan announced, through a (what else?) statement, that they had parted ways ''several weeks'' earlier.

Doing a little language and math work, I see that several means more than two but not many, so the pair must have broken up sometime around, say, mid to late November.

This being late February means Tom Terrific gave three-months-pregnant Bridget a last-fling going-away present.

I like that this is clearly Brady's fault, to Telander. It takes two to tango. Also, and I don't know how better to express this: you have absolutely no idea what happened here. So...shut up? I guess?

You know what this reminds me of? I seem to recall a very special episode of Doogie Howser, M.D., in like the fifth season, where he lost his virginity. If I remember correctly, he was like 18 on the show. He had been dating his girlfriend for several years. They were in love. They discussed the use of contraception. And, need I remind everyone, he was a super-genius who was also a medical doctor. And certain people in this world lost their shit and said the whole thing was a bad lesson for kids and immoral and stuff.

And I remember thinking: this is a freaking great lesson for kids. The lesson was: wait until you are old enough to go to college and a medical doctor and a super genius and you have been dating someone for years and years and openly discuss contraception before you have sex. If we could get every kid in the world to think like that, wouldn't the world probably have fewer unwanted pregnancies and be a healthier overall place?

Not the same exact situation, but the fact remains: look at the specifics of the situation before you pass judgment.

I promise I will write something about VORP or EqA or something very soon. But this really bugged me.

Labels: rick telander, sperm, tom brady

posted by Ken Tremendous # 12:04 AM

Yes, you'll note that last line is a nod to the fact that this is a baseball blog, but they tear apart bad writing for a hobby, so sometimes they get a little off-topic.

And the Floodgates are Open!

Not that I've often shied away from tasteless jokes.... but after reading this, I'm saying we all have the green light...

It's very unlikely my leg is going to fly off, although it would be quite funny. I'll have a strap on, which I wouldn't normally in every day life.

I almost don't have a joke here....

We Have a New Champion

The new holder of the title for stupidest, yet most oddly compelling show on TV......

"Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader"

I can't even rationally discuss this yet.

I think Peter King has me worried....

From this week's Monday Morning Quarterback:

3. I think the one interview Brady Quinn thought was original and a smart use of his time came in the Miami meeting room. Coach Cam Cameron asked Quinn midway through their time together how many run plays, how many pass protections and how many pass formations Notre Dame had. After Quinn answered, Cameron said: "OK, about seven minutes left. Go to the board and diagram every one of them.'' Quinn loved it, because it was a challenge that made him have to improvise and perform well under pressure. When the period ended, and Quinn didn't finish (obviously), Cameron told him the next time they met, he wanted him to do it again, only faster, losing none of the efficiency. (There's a draft hint, people. The Fins and Quinn will meet again before the draft.)

Speaking of Quinn, he's almost a little too perfect. But if that's who he is, that's who he is. That's what we all were saying about Peyton Manning nine years ago. Speaking of winning the big one (or not), Quinn, by my very unofficial count, was 2-8 in the Very Big Ones at Notre Dame: 2-1 versus Michigan, 0-4 against USC, 0-3 in bowl games. Not good. But let's not slay Quinn over it just yet. In those eight losses, Notre Dame allowed 47, 44, 41, 34, 34, 41, 38 and 45 points.

I fucking hate Brady Quinn....... if he goes to the Dolphins I might honestly have to revisit my cheering preference. Or just stop watching the NFL.

And no, the comparison to the Duck-Fetus Man (a.k.a. Peyton Manning) does not help.

Finally Placed It

Maybe this is a good indication of how drowsy I am first thing in the morning, but I've finally figured out where I know the little chimey sound that Flow 93.5 plays before their traffic report.....

It's the same sound effect you get when you hit a Question Box in Mario Kart 64.

Now... is it worse that I know that? Or worse that I think it's cool?

One person can make all the difference

I just sorta noticed something. The last couple of weekends have been pretty fun, and slightly out of the ordinary. I was trying to figure out why... and then it came to me.

We have a social director again!

My group of high school friends are notoriously awful for planning stuff.... to the point that three or four of us will actually talk over the course of a Saturday, and end up not doing anything at all.

Well, Kyle's back. And everything changed.

He's actually up in Orangeville during the week on a placement, but come Friday night, our boy's back in town, and he's ready to party..... and drags us all kicking and screaming along with him.

Good times!! :)

Okay, so maybe it's not all that bad....

You know, when the snow is falling, and is all fresh and fluffy, it really absorbs a lot of sound. And when you're out kinda late, when there aren't all that many people around.... it actually gets quite peaceful out there.

You know, aside from the manual labour.....

Weekend Flashback to a Flashback Weekend

This weekend actually ended up being quite the flashback, of sorts. It was a flashback in that I used to have this kind of weekend all the time. I don't anymore.

Anyway, it worked out that I tried to go to the Raptors game with a friend of mine that goes to U of T on Friday. By the time we got down to the ACC, they only had $140 tickets left, and for as much as we both like basketball, we also agreed that the Indiana Pacers were not worth that.

So we wandered over to the Loose Moose on Front St. and proceeded to get our booze on. After the game, we headed back out to the West end to meet up with some of her friends, hit up the Galway and see our favourite bartender, Donna, whom we hadn't seen since before Christmas.

Several pitchers later, to the best of my recollection, I stumbled home and went to bed.

Next thing I know, it's noon... and the tiny amount of sunlight getting through my blinds was approaching unbearable. I make the somewhat unbalanced treck to the couch, avoiding the trail of shoes, keys, coat, etc. down the hallway.

I find cereal. It is the best bowl of cereal I've ever had. So I have another.

Just before 1, Justin calls. I debate not answering.....

Turns out he was in town last night visiting a lady-friend, is getting kicked out because her parents are coming over, and wants to know if I'm up for a pint. I tell him that I doubt I have opened my eyes fully, but concede that I do need to go find my car, so maybe that's not such a bad idea. Read that again and see if you can figure out how I get myself into trouble now and again........

He picks me up, and we head over to the Galway. It is fucking jammed. At 1:30pm.

This is why I love the place.

We attempt to find out why it's so jammed, but be it the thick accents, the drink being consumed, or the fact that I temprarily have an IQ in the 30's, we can't decipher anything.

We leave.

We set ourselves down at the bar of the Montana's around the corner.

Two pitchers and 4 lbs. of wings later, it's 4pm, and Justin notes, "You know, it's only three hours until the hockey game....."

Me: You know, we both have things to do.
Justin: Yeah, I think this should be where we call things off.
Me: This is why only two of us can be safe. If there was a third person here, they'd probably make us stay.

When Justin goes to the can, I text Jon...

Me: So whaddaya say... Get a third pitcher? PS. Justin's here...
Jon: Of course! And deep fried pickles

We decide to ignore Jon, on both counts, and make the responsible decision. We leave.

I got buy a laptop, and test drive a couple of Mazdas. Yes, when I'm half hungover, half getting drunk again, I throw cash around on major purchases. Again... you wonder how I get myself into trouble.

Anyway, I got home and decided a few cocktails were in order while watching the beginning of the Leaf and Raptor games. I cab it down to the Drake, where Eric's band was playing (excellent show, btw). Towards the end of the night, people are leaving, but I manage to convince Kyle to hang around until the end of the night (the coat check line may have made this a poor decision). I vaguely recall just handing all the cash I had left to Kyle as I got out of the cab. From speaking briefly this morning, I seem to have more than covered the ride.

Sunday, I awake at the crack of 11:30.... on the couch. My bed is at about a 45º angle to the wall (note: not the normal position), and again everything I had on the night before is strewn down the hall and into the kitchen.

I forage through my jeans to try to cobble together enough change to buy a coffee (I do) and I find a phone number on a crumpled piece of paper.

Shit.

I have no idea where this came from, much less if this would be worth calling.... or more importantly, what name I gave the person associated with said number (stupid Greg rubbing off on me).

I roll into band practice a little less than an hour late, and the ensuing playing (and sweating) actually makes me feel about a thousand times better. As do the two giant cesars at the pub afterwards.

How did I do that every weekend for four years? And live??

You're really sure about this?

You were there? Really?

After reading this literary handjob, I think Jeff Pearlman needs to wonder about the fact that Griffey had so many injuries might not have been the result of his having taken steroids, which notoriously reduce flexibility and sap muslces of water, causing injuries.... which are what derailed Junior's career.

I'm not saying he's dirty, but I find it hard to believe he's the only one in that "generation" of ball players that was completely clean. Expecially when you consider that when healthy, he was better than them all.

Just sayin'.....

You were a crappy hockey player, and your namesake coffee is weak and bland

Also, your Rrroll Up The Rim To Win campaign makes me feel like a loser every morning.

Back, and as oddly entertaining as ever

While putting along this morning in another snow-enduced gridlock, I stumbled upon Opie and Anthony, who are apparently the new morning show on Buffalo's 103.3 The Edge. I know I noted they were working again a while ago, but it's only recently that I've been able to hear them myself.

And, of course, they were up to their old envelope-pushing ways.... latching onto the story of Al Sharpton finding out through the media who the whites that owned his ancestors were. Lovely stuff, but O&A, naturally, started testing the limits of what they could get away with....

"Now, you know Rev. Al is going to parlay this into some kind of lawsuit."
"Yeah, he's probably going to sue them for reparations, or something."
"You'd think he'd have looked into this earlier, being the champion of freedom that he is."
"You know, I think if he's going to get the money, he should have to go back to work for the family that owned his great-great grandfather."
"You can't be serious."
"No, really... aren't reparations supposed to be payback for the work you were doing as a slave?"
"I think so..."
"Well, in order to get the money, they should have to go back and work as slaves."
"Except they're getting paid, now."
"Yeah, so it's like a normal job."
"Except they call it something horrific."
"Well, yes..."

Then after the next bit where they argue that the old slave owners should counter-sue the reparations suit by saying they never wanted to free the slaves in the first place, and thus still own them.

As I'm sure you can imagine, at this point a very very angry woman called in, accusing them of racism. Their rebuttal, though they never really said it in these terms (their unwillingness to back down in the face of anyone who disagrees by taking an even more extreme position, all in the name of comedy, is how they tend to get themselves in trouble), was basically, "You can't possibly think we're serious, can you?"

I'm back, baby!

So I finally got around to buying a laptop.

Decent, lightweight. I'm happy with it. T40 Thinkpad, for anyone wondering.

Now I just need to set up wireless (I feel funny bumming it off my neighbours for some reason) so I can never have to leave the couch again.

Shell and Petro-Canada are cunts

Explosion in Sarnia. Fire in Nanticoke. Both Imperial Oil/Esso sites. Affects only them. In fact, Esso is the only one of the "Big 3" in Canada that isn't in bed with everyone else in terms of supply, distribution, etc.

Yet, when you go out to the gas station, you get screwed no matter where you go.

Why? See title.

And this is coming from someone who basically makes his living off these guys, too.

A little self-analysis can be a good thing

I am fairly self-destructive at heart. I am aware of this.

I tend to work at things at first, but once things are going well, I start fucking with people. I start to push the limits, see what I can get away with. This applies to just about everything. Relationships (romantic and otherwise), work, pipe bands... everything.

At work, I'll start to do less and less... show up later and later. Sometimes not at all. Sometimes without even calling in. The problem is when I get away with it, I'll do more. Until I get busted and (of course) shit on by my boss. At my old job, I used to make my own long weekends a lot just by calling in sick from other area codes. They were gerenally unimpressed, but fuck them. At my new job, however, I kinda feel bad cuz I really like my boss, so I don't do that much. I just take days off with lieu time without really asking...

In the band, I get comfortable with having a season or two under my belt, and instead of picking up music as fast as I'm capable of, I put it off, and don't learn it until I absolutely have to. I'm also far more likely to blow off practice when I'm confident of my place than when I'm still new.

Really, neither of those make many waves, as I tend to do good enough work, or be a good enough player to get away with it. It's really only with friends and such that this becomes an issue. Thankfully, despite my best efforts, I haven't alienated any good friends (that I know of) through my generally discourteous behaviour, but I'm pretty sure this has sabotaged (intentionally and unintentionally) enough relationships that had more than enough potential just because I like to push boundaries.

Thursday TV

Turns out FOX is putting out about the funniest "make fun of stupid people" show since that gameshow where people bet on Jay-Walking-esque questions.... Street Smarts, was it? Who cares... In any event, I'm pretty sure I'll end up tuning into this trainwreck.

I mean honestly.... SHE'S THE TITLE CHARACTER!! Of course Meredith survived. That supposed drama was almost annoying. It was cute with Christina typically being the "don't touch me" type, and getting very touchy with Meredith, but seriously.... while it's an ensemble cast, it's named after her. It's not like Cheers where they switched out bartenders when Coach died in real life.... this would have been comparable to Cheers burning down, and everyone taking refuge in a coffee shop across the street.

Finally, The OC wrapped up last night with a wimper. I guess the big plot twists (don't want to play spoiler in the even that one of the other four fans was watching CSI by accident, or doesn't get FOX, thereby relying on CTV, which blew off the Series Finale entirely) were interesting, but not entirely unexpected. The only real part I enjoyed was a small interplay between Summer and Taylor, where Summer notes that the stars of a teen drama "The Valley" who were dating "broke up in real life" (Rachel Bilson and Adam Brody broke up not all that long ago), and then Taylor comments that they're in like their 10th season... in my mind a dig at 90210, but who knows...

Another exciting Thursday in my life. Remember Alfie's before they cleaned it up? Or the Poke-a-ho before that? Thursdays used to actually be fun.

Then again, so did I.

Why I Hate Sleep

I know I don't need much sleep, and I tend to just stay up until I am just about falling asleep, but I tried to make a responsible decision earlier tonight by going to bed around 11, hoping to be able to actually get up and make it into work "early".. thereby allowing me to leave relatively early on a Friday, but whatever... the point is I was trying to be responsible. And where did it get me?

Nowhere. That's where.

As I sit here, I've been wide awake since about 2:15.

Rock star treatment? You have to be kidding me....

Last night at UofT, one of the most boring people alive was getting the Rockstar Treatment... tickets selling at 10+ times their face value...

Saying Al Gore is about as excited as watching paint dry is pratically an insult to the joys of watching a near-microscopic chemical reaction take place.

I would suggest the prices being paid for the tickets to see the former US veep are a better indication of the UofT student body's willingness to spend money to look like they care about the environment than anything else. Or perhaps the outlandish disposable income of many students... or maybe just the availability of drugs on the campus, because anyone willing to pay upwards of $200 to listen to Al Gore drone on for gawd knows how long has got to be on something.......

And if you have a line for any.. hook a brother up......... ;)

This is the next MJ? Um, no.

Watching the Raps losing at the buzzer to King James and the Cavs, reading this section of the Simmons article I linked to yesterday starting to ring true. LeBron only had 10 points in the first half, but turned it on in the second to help his team come back and win.

To LeBron James, who coasted through the Skills Challenge on All-Star Saturday and played the All-Star Game with the uplifting, charismatic intensity of a female porn star trying to break one of those "most male partners in one afternoon" records. Could we end up putting him in the "Too Much, Too Soon" Pantheon some day? Will he become the basketball version of Eddie Murphy, Britney Spears, Michael Jackson and every other celeb who became famous too quickly and eventually burned out?

Here's what I know. I had four conversations with connected NBA people over the weekend that centered around the same themes: LeBron isn't playing nearly as hard as he did last season; it looks like his only goal right now is to get his coach fired; he's regressing as a basketball player (especially his passing skills and his shot selection); he made a huge mistake firing his agent and turning his career over to his buddies back home (all of whom are in over their heads); he was a much bigger problem during the Olympics than anyone realized; he doesn't seem to be enjoying himself anymore; he has an overrated sense of his own worth and his own impact in the sports world (as witnessed by the ESPN interview last week when he answered the "What are your goals?" question with two words: "Global icon"); he's been protected by magazine fluff pieces and buddy-buddy TV interviews for far too long; he doesn't have the same relentless drive to keep dominating everyone like Wade and Kobe have; and basically, we're much closer to LeBron re-enacting the career arc of Martina Hingis, Eric Lindros and Junior Griffey than anyone realizes. This will evolve into THE dominant NBA story of the next two months. You watch.

The thing about Michael Jordan was that he was the ultimate competitor. LeBron James doesn't seem to have that drive. MJ is playing golf for $10,000 a hole. Why? He loves to win. $10,000 to him is like you or me playing $10 a hole. Doesn't really matter, but he's a competitor, so he does it. He's the kind of guy that will step on your throat when you're down to make sure he wins. He wants to destroy you and everything you stand for every time he's out on the court. They only have one term for players like that in the NBA...

Winners.

It's why Kobe has three rings, D-Wade has one, 'Melo won a National Championship at Syracuse. Bron-Bron hasn't, really, won shit...

It's what separated the stars in the NBA's glory days. For all their smiles (Magic), small town politeness (Bird), or Uncle Tom behaviour (Isaiah), all the greats would just as quickly cut your heart our and feed it to you if that's what it took to win.

Now? Most of the NBA stars are soft (Vince, T-Mac) or on brutal enough teams that it didn't matter (KG and, until recently, AI). That's why Shaq has been able to dominate even now, when the best work he does is at the buffet table, rather than a basketball court. He just wants it more than any of these shlubs, and I'm pretty sure he passed this along to Dwyane (The Human Typo) Wade, which is why he's going to dominate for years. With any luck, Iverson's having the same impact on my boy Carmelo, but we'll have to see....

Bar Fly? Debatable....

Sigh...

As a concession to the huge lobby of my friends who think I'm a complete alcoholic, I admit that I have been known to go to bars on my own.

In defence of this trend, I'd like to explain how I got comfortable with the idea, as I am aware that this is not a normal thing to do. In fact, it is only through my own brutal punctuality that I became aware that "normal folks" do not consider this acceptable behaviour.

Really, it all came about starting with Ritual. On Friday afternoons, Ritual was an unquestioned destination for anyone that didn't have surgery or an exam. Classes were routinely skipped, assignments handed in incomplete (at best), and other appointments blown off. But more importantly, there was always someone there. Always. Even in fourth year. Maybe it was close friends, maybe it was some people from class, maybe it was bandsies, but regardless, there would always be someone to talk to. I'm not sure I actually went to Ritual "with" anyone after second year. It was just a kind of meeting place that everyone made it to (eventually) every week. The symbolic start to the weekend, if you will.

With Clark being a comfortable solo destination, it eventually grew. By fourth year, there was also QP. My typical route home would be to head through the JDUC to see if Justin or Jon (a.k.a. Cliff and Norm) were there. If they were, I'd stop. If they weren't... well...... I might slip in for one... you know, just to see if they were coming by. My thesis partner (Brian) being QP staff didn't exactly help my likelihood of walking by without at least sticking my head in.

Now, I have two bars in Toronto that I feel comfortable enough to frequent on my own, but they are also the two places where I know much of the staff by name, and they also know me by name. And drink.

Okay, maybe it's not that debatable.............

I "get" Simon

I hear him, and all I keep thinking is that he reminds me of piping (or pipe band) judges. Easily unimpressed, and generally negative. I'm starting to think this is a British thing. You know, honesty. Why do Americans always feel entitled to have sunshine blown up their collective asses?!? Why tell you that you're great when you stink?

But you know something? It means when he says you were alright, you appreciate it. When he says you did well (or even superbly), it makes people's day. Compare that to the unending stream of "you're all wonderful!" coming from Paula... people expect her to be nice, so her compliments mean nothing. When people know you're not going to blow sunshine, they know that they've done well when you say so. Granted, he's grown more venomous with his criticisms, but that's just him playing a role. He has some of the most thoughtful things to say when he is impressed, and so people really take that to heart.

In not totally unrelated news, a black woman is going to win this year. Unless someone gets immeasurably better over the next few weeks, it's not even close. I got chills during the last performance last night. When she hit the last note, it was amazing.

And Simon made sure she knew it.

Not even close

I remarked to Jenna on Sunday night that the NBA All-Star game was in Vegas this past weekend.

Now, while we were able to find more than our fair share of fun, we agreed that a smattering of the richest NBA players in Vegas for the same amount of time could likely obliterate what we put together, no matter how industrious it seemed at the time....

Here is a quasi-first-hand report of the weekend, affectionately termed Hip Hop Woodstock, from ESPN's Bill Simmons (who if you read carefully also stayed at the Wynn).

If you've never been to Vegas, you might start to understand the allure. If you have been, you may find yourself nodding knowingly. In either case, it should be acceptable to start surfing for cheap plane tickets............

Vegas, baby.... Vegas. :)

Stuff from all over...

Alright, well, stealing from WWTDD's format when he doesn't have enough to actually make individual posts about various items, here we go...


Refinery Fire

People have been asking if I have any idea what happened in Sarnia. The short answer? No. Aside from the fact that I don't do much work with Esso, these kinds of things are really really kept hush-hush for legal reasons. As for why Shell and Petro-Can are alos hiking their prices, well... they all buy product off of each other, and other than the Nanticoke refinery, Sarnia's about the closest one to Toronto... which is insane, of course, but whatever. The part that annoys me is that the Refinery process isn't exactly the last jumping off point before the pump. That's bullshit. Slightly less bad than the Katrina-related price spike (actual crude is about a year away from the pump), but it's still bullshit. The terminals in the Toronto area have more than enough product on site, and you still have Petro-Can's feed coming in from Montreal, plus the aforementioned Nanticoke supply. Knowing more just pisses you off more...


Craig Ferguson has a heart?

It seems that Craig has called off the dogs on Britney Spears. He will not be doing any more jokes about her, which I have to say shows a certain amount of compassion. I'm sure this comes fromteh news that she was in rehab, left, and is now back in. Craig being a recovering alcoholic, himself, probably has a soft spot for that kind of trouble. As long as she seems to be honestly trying to get better, you can safely bet he's going to be leaving her alone for a while.


Tom Brady gets blindsided


Turns out he found out he had slipped one past the goalie at the same time everyone else did. Kinda crazy, huh? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.... In other Brady-related news, his new lady friend, Giselle whatever-her-name-is, apparently had to gain 14 pounds in order to model at some show in Europe. Turns out Europe has a minimum BMI in order to work as a model. And while this was brought on my models dying, good for them!!



John Amaechi is gay; getting rich(er) from it


In case you hadn't heard, a former NBA player has a new book coming out, and in it, he comes out of the closet. Well, lovely. Statistically, you knew this had to be true. But just like the former Bengals lineman, he came out when he was comfortably retired. Convenient, huh? Don't you think that we're overdue for a dude to come out while he's playing a major professional sport? Obviously, it's going to have to be some immensely talented gentleman, because if he's some scrub, the team he's on will drop him like a hot potato, not to mention he's going to have all the homophobic players on other teams gunning for him, and have to back it up.


Aside from that, the guy'll probably have enormous marketing potential, and likely make a freaking boatload of money off of it.



Has nobody else thought of this?


Now, Justin Timberlake has already won a Grammy for his supposed revenge song aginst Btriney Spears, "Cry Me a River"... and now why isn't anyone buzzing about his newest hit "What goes around... comes back around" as a revenge track for Cameron Diaz? The lyrics seem to fit the story of their break up pretty clearly. And the fact that he hooked up with Scarlett Johansson while making the video is just icing on the proverbial cake....



Back from... well, wherever unemployed actors go...?


I saw a commercial for the upcoming Black Donnellys series on Global, and I got quite the blast from the past.... If anyone remembers Alex from The OC (quick reminder: the chick Marissa had a lesbian tryst with in, I believe, Season 2), well, she's the chick in the series. Good times!! I might even watch it now....







Last but Certainly not Least...

If you have any interest, it seems The Sarah Silverman Program is going to start airing on The Comedy Network March 1st. I haven't seen any of it, but I'm still going to highly recommend you check it out...

If you want to party... leave!

Well, today being Fat Tuesday, it was brought into focus just how boring it is in Canada at this time of year. Forget how cold it is here (sometimes hard to do), there are bigtime parties everywhere if you head south, starting in...

New Orleans

Well, d'uh, right? Okay, so the city might not exactly be completely recovered from that hurricane you may have heard about, but the majority of the tourist-y part of town was largely unaffected, and is very much back up and running. So really, as long as you ignore the spike in violent crime (also ignoring it was pretty high to begin with), it's still very much on the table for good times waiting to be had.

A little further South, we get to...

Daytona Beach

While, yes, we are still a couple of months from Spring Break, Speedweek just finished up. There are still drunk rednecks everywhere, I'm sure... although last week would likely have been more fun, what with the Great American Race, and all...

Now, leaving the Continental US, we get...

Trinidad

Carnival started this week in Trini (the joys of listening to Toront's "Urban" FM.. I get updated on these things). I have trouble seeing how this is anything but a great time. I'm basically picturing Caribana here, but, you know, in tropical paradise.

Further South, still, one finds....

Brazil

My buddy Mike is in Brazil right now, and seeing as their Carvinal is going on as I type, I'm not sure I could possibly be more jealous. I'm sure he's more than happy to hear that, too. Fucker. :)
And now I'm thoroughly depressed.....

Some can pull this kinda thing off.. others can't.

Natalie? She can.

Sinead? Yup...her, too.

Brit? You're not one of them....

Sorry...

Pick your battles, damnit...

And this is NOT one you should pick.

If anyone has Kim Mathers in their Death Pool, then they're going to come up as the big winner this year....

A decision that was probably a little late in coming

So last week I decided that I'm not going to smoke anymore. I'm not saying I'm "quitting", because I'd have to admit to myself that I was "a smoker" in the first place. Which, while debatable, I stand by I was not.

I have maintained for years, that despite the odd social puff, I wasn't addicted, and thus I didn't classify myself as a smoker. I always thought that the idea of smoking in the winter proved that cigarettes were the most hardcore vice available. Nothing could make me voluntarily go outside on a cold winter's day. Nothing.

Anyway, I have long said that I don't consider myself addicted, and mostly would have a smoke using a similar thought process to having a turkey sandwich. I just kinda felt like one. I've been known to go weeks without having a cigarette, if only because I never hung out with any of my friends that I could share one with. I even took the best part of a couple of months off in the fall, if only to prove to myself that my assertion that "I can quite whenver I feel like it.. I just need a reason to" was actually valid. Most "smokers" can tell you almost to the hour their last cigarette. I can only ballpark that as 6 or 8 weeks, because I didn't really take note when I stopped.

All that said, I finally had the thought cross my mind last week... "What the hell am I doing? Even the odd casual smoke has to have some kind of detremental affect on my health, right? This is totally different from having the odd tub of ice cream, or bag of Doritos. This is insane."

So I've given them up, and that's that.

Just Insane...

Stuart Liddell has got to be one of maybe 5 or 6 players in the world capable of this.

Better late than never....

This is the view of the Vegas Strip from our 59th floor window.

And yes, it took me this long to figure out how to transfer a picture from my phone when I haven't saved it to the SD card... bite me.

Battle of the Babes

I'm not sure "babes" is the best term in the world for the following, but I spent some time in gridlock this morning (yay Toronto!!) listening to the "Top 7 at 7" symultaneously on a couple of stations, and the parallels between Gwen Stefani and Stacey "Fergie" Ferguson started to become painfully obvious. So much so, that I started comparing different aspects of them in my mind, and once I started snickering, I decided that I needed to get this on "paper" to decide a winner... and, well, if this isn't at least a little amusing, then you get a first hand look at how easily amused I can be without coffee in my system.... so, without further ado...........

Gwen vs. Fergie!

Original Group:
No Doubt, or the Black Eyed Peas? Hard to say. Different genres are hard to compare, but I'm going to try. One could argue that No Doubt had a bigger single hit ("Don't Speak") than BEP, but I think BEP has had more hits in general. No Doubt had a longer run before fizzling out.
Slight Edge: Gwen

Least Painfully Annoying Solo Music:
This is like choosing between the gallows and a firing squad. I'll give Gwen credit for sampling musicals, whereas almost all of Fergie's singles to-date are rip-offs that sound like old songs.
Edge: Gwen

Use of Featured Artists:
Really, all of Fergie's singles feature the other members of BEP, but I mean more the actual people that get credited. Fergie's new one, "Glamorous" has Luda prominently featured, whereas Gwen completely underuses the white-hot Akon in "Sweet Escape". The fact that Gwen also once used Eve actually counts as a strike against her.
Edge: Fergie

Choice of Solo Genre:
Fergie just went with a more poppy, radio friendly version of the same stuff BEP did. Safe, but stick to what you're good at. Gwen, after a good run in the rock field, decided to try and become the first commercially successful female rapper. That shit is bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S (sorry, I had to). And equally annoying.
Edge: Fergie

Voice:
Not even close. Gwen's chops were proven back with No Doubt, even though she never uses them anymore, you know she can sing.
Big Edge: Gwen

Body:
I have no idea what an addiction to crystal meth does to your body, exactly, but considering it made her piss herself on stage, I'm not sure that's good. So no matter how "up in the gym just workin' on [her] fitness" Fergie might be, what's on the inside scares me a lot. Forget the outside. Bonus points for Gwen getting back to her previous fitness level so quickly after giving birth. I will retract this if I ever hear that she got a tummy tuck during a C-section, or any other bullshit like that, but for now....
Edge: Gwen

Significant Other:
Gwen is married to former Bush frontman Gavin Rossdale, who apparently doesn't like her music, and didn't like No Doubt. Next time you sell 10 records, we'll care what you think, Gavin. I have no idea if Fergie is dating anyone, but she has to get points for it not being a douchebag like Gavin Rossdale.
Edge: Fergie

Style:
You probably think that since Gwen has her own designer clothing line that she will win this section. Well, if you think that, you haven't seen anything in the LAMB line. It's all hideous. And she is quickly approaching Mischa Barton-level trainwreck with what she wears herself. Fergie, however is quite the trainwreck in her own right.
Edge: Even

Dancing:
Not even close. Fergie can move pretty well, when she's not hammered on giant heels. Gwen, however, admits that she can't follow choreography, which I suspect is why she has dancers.
Big Edge: Fergie

speaking of which.........

Non-singing, dancing sidekicks:
Most people have heard about Gwen's Harajuku Girls, oddly named Love, Angel, Music and Baby.... but I can't help but notice Fergie's anonymous, ponytail and sunglass wearing female bodyguards/back-up dancers. They scare me. A lot. Almost in a good way, but not quite. For being non-threatening....
Edge: Gwen

Final Tally? Hm... Gwen edged her 6 to 5 1/2. I bet Fergie'd win a real fight, tho...

I'm not sure why I feel compelled to bring this up...

...but this week, while finally getting around to doing some semblance of cleaning, noticed (not for the first time) that I almost always seem to have somewhere in the range of 8 to 10 pairs of shoes out at all times.

I seem to have an inordinate number of shoes for a guy. Especially a straight one. I do like shoes, and like to have the right ones for every occasion or event.

In fact, there used to be a cool shoe store in Kingston. It's now long gone, but I really don't care since I don't live there anymore. I don't know if it has been replaced, but that doesn't matter. There was a time when every trip downtown Melissa and I ever made would require a drop in there. When she lived at Brock and Division, we became regulars (it was near the movie theater). It actually got to the point where she called me once because there was a sale on. We both dropped more than our fair share of money there, but both being without car, there was nowhere else within reason to get any vague semblance of decent footwear.

Somehow I feel the need to reiterate that I'm straight.

Thursday Night Ruminations

On a typical cold-ass Thursday night in Toronto, I was watching my typical anti-testosterone slate of TV, and being ever-so-glad I'm not a sports fan in Philadelphia (the Flyers just traded Forsberg and got pounded by the Leafs, the Sixers suck, and if spring training and Ryan Howard weren't around the corner, the cold weather - it's about as nice there as it is here, from what I understand - would just be the capper...). Yet, through all this, a whole whack of stuff seemed to be coarsing through my head.... such as:

I really think that Bill Simmons called it when he said way back in Season 1 of The OC that they were just pounding through story lines too quickly to be able to sustain it for very long. Well, next week is the series finale, if I'm not mistaken, and it seems that The OC was like one of those cool summer fling relationships that burns brightly, only to fizzle out quickly, come fall...

The running theme on Grey's Anatomy of "if you disappeared, would anyone notice?" kinda creeped me out, as since I've mostly been living alone for the last few years, it has often crossed my mind whether anyone would notice before the smell became suffocating if I slipped in my shower and died, or something. Like, obviously people at work would notice, but for at least a few days, I think they'd just laugh it off, or be pissed off that I was AWOL (having kinda done it before, there's a track record for me just randomly not showing up... oops!). Anyway, I was quite content to have those little thoughts rattle around in my brain without seeing the light of day. Then TV betrays me. Grr...

In other GA news, I have officially moved on from Izzie to Addison. Maybe this is a Mrs. Robinson thing I'm trying to live vicariously through Karev, or maybe I just really did find her cool when I saw her on Kimmel a few months ago, but seriously....

Oh, and as a side note... who can possibly be stupid enough to believe they're going to kill off the TITLE CHARACTER?!? Do they really think people are going to buy that? It would be like burning the bar down in Cheers....

Also, there was a funny theme in various conversations I had today. This morning I found myself discussing the moral ramifications of a holocaust denier, and their rights to free speech (imho: any reasonable person knows what went down... if you're loony toons, that's your business, I guess you're entitled to your insanity? something like that...). Then this afternoon, I was speaking with a Persian dude I work with (we actually work really well together, as he is very detailed and organized, whereas I am very calm... he keeps me on track, and I keep him from stressing out too much). We have been having trouble with one of the inspectors for a tank we're trying to put together a repair package for. Without getting into any details, this guy basically speaks to my co-worker like he's a moron and doesn't understand anything. This is clearly evident in his emails, and while this prick tends to talk down to most people, he is particularly condescending to my friend. Now, while I realize I just said that I keep my buddy from stressing, he doesn't often show a temper. In fact, he more often than not talks me out of snap, invective-laced emails that I'll likely regret an hour later. But in the last day or so, he has really been getting agitated with the responses he has been getting. Finally, this afternoon, as I said, he and I sat down, and he laid it out as to why he was so pissed off with this guy... (obviously paraphrased, but this was only a few hours ago.. so it's close enough)

"You see, let me tell you where this guy is coming from. Earlier this fall, around when the Indians were having some dispute up north, I forget the details, but I think they were barracading a road, or something.... I was at site with him and [another contractor], and over lunch, he says, just stating it as fact, that, 'We (meaning white people, of course) should have killed off all the Indians and French when we had the chance.' Now I know where this guys is coming from. Disregard that the only reason the white people didn't kill off the Indians and French was because they lacked the capacity, but then he looks as me, someone who has only been in the country for 10 years, and says, 'Wouldn't that have fixed everything?' I could barely get out, 'Well, that would have been one way.' So now you know why he speaks to me like he does, and I'm not going to take it from him. I had to leave Iran because I was treated like an immigrant in my own country once. In fact, you'd probably be treated better there, but that is the kind of thing that I will not stand for.

That kind of thing just gets me furious. The idea that somebody in fucking 2007 (well, I guess the conversation was in 2006) could possibly think they can say things like that, just matter of factly. Like, I know I generally put way more thought into what I say and do than most people, but holy shit.... think for 5 seconds before you go sounding off. It's amazing how quickly you can lose respect for an otherwise personable and knowledgeable guy.

Let's take a moment for Black History Month

And ruin it entirely with a tasteless link.

(you know you're going to click on it...)

A thought for today....

"Well, Happy Valentine's Day, I guess..."
"That's for people who are paired up. For everyone else, it's just Wednesday."

At last!

The perfect blend of sports and nerd. :)

Sigh.......

Shock to the system

Last night I had the unfortunate situation of attending the visitation for my friend's mum.

Now, I have (somewhat tragically) been to funerals for closer friends' parents, grandparents, etc. ... but this was the first time that it was one of those adult-y ones where you haven't seen most of the faces you recognize in some time. Aside from the fact that our age group shouldn't rightfully be losing parents yet (many even still have several grandparents alive and kicking), it was a sobering experience.

The group of friends that this touched was the people that I went to elementary school with. None of them went to the same high school as I did, and so we basically lost touch. In recent years, we run into each other at different bars and pubs in Bloor West Village, but we rarely have any substantial conversations, as we're mostly half in the bag. The idea that I saw a bunch of the people I grew up with (we were basically in the same class from SK to grade 8, being the French Immersion kids in a K-to-8 school), and we exchanged sober words for the first time in, quite honestly, 10 to 15 years was jarring.

This guy was one of my better friends growing up, and as we spent time on a lot of sports teams together (he was actually good enought to make the Runnymede basketball team), even our parents got to know each other. His house was always fun, and I remember his parents being really cool. Seeing his dad for the first time in who knows how long last night was funny, cuz he gave me one of those "Should I know you?" looks, until I told him my name... and he gave me the standard, "I remember you when you were this [hand moving to knee region] tall!"

It was nice to see people, and actually catch up with some of them in an "I might actually retain this" kinda way...

"So... are you still working at........ uh...where you were before?"
"Um..... probably?"

I was also floored when I got to meet the youngest brother of one of my friends. He was almost 10 years younger than the other two brothers (looking back, a definite "oops"), and he will eternally be the little kid we used to teach how to swear. Now he's in taller than me and in university....

Anyway, I'd like to think that this experience will encourage me to live each day more fully, as you never know when it might all come crashing down... but I can't help shake the idea that this will just start happening more and more as the years go by.

I'm still going to send out an email, but this concersation warranted immortalisation

Neil says: hey
sorry, what was your last message? I had to close the window cause my boss was asking me something
Iain says: haha.... I was asking where you planned to be for St. Paddy's...
Iain says: I might be heading to K-town..
Neil says: when is it?
Iain says: for fuck's sake....
Iain says: it's the same day every year!
Neil says: my calender function doesn't work on Outlook
and like I'd remember that day, we were always drunk by breakfast, I do know I usually end up at the Nog
Iain says: March 17rg
Iain says: 17th
Neil says: it doesn't look like I have anything planned, so I'm sure I'll be here, and it's way better that it's on a weekend
Neil says: although last year it didn't matter as much since I was still a student and was able to take off midday to go to the Nog
Iain says: right... asshole...........
Iain says: but I thought I'd give you a heads up that I will likely be in town...
Neil says: sounds like a bad idea.... I'm in
Iain says: sweet
Iain says: do I dare attempt to recruit others?
Neil says: I think so, it's on a weekend, try to sell it as a Queen's reunion, I'll make sure to get enough Panama Jack's for whoever will come
Iain says: sweet jebus............
Neil says: that would be fun, we could do it up just like undergrad, start with the coffee and liquor, get to the Nog just after it opens, be blackout drunk by dinner time, and try to stumble to the right home (ahhh memories)
Iain says: I'm not sure "memories" are the best term for it...........
Iain says: PS: I have to give a guy his iron ring the next day....
Neil says: yeah, but wouldn't you feel a bit weird doing it if you weren't just a bit hung over
Iain says: considering I almost missed my OWN ring ceremony... yes, yes I would.
Neil says: nice
well I gotta take off from work but that sounds like an absolutely horrible idea (therefore we have to do it)
Iain says: sweet... glad you approve... I'll try to send out an email tomorrow...

How to tell when you're dealing with Facebook newbies...

jon says: i just poked you
jon says: whatever that means
Iain says: I don't like the sound of that.....
jon says: well i'm sorry, but it had to be done
Iain says: at least you gave me some warning

Oh, right... I forgot they were on....

Turns out the Grammys were last night. I guess I knew that, but I also guess I didn't care enough to retain that little fact.

Anyway, I feel I got enough out of Bill Simmons' running diary that I'm actually kinda glad I didn't watch them.... some highlights that I laughed at despite the above...

8:34 -- It's a tie between Justin Timberlake and Chase Budinger for "white guy who does the best job transcending his whiteness." Justin Timberlake is performing right now, although he made the tragic decision not to sing "D*** in a Box." Hey, it's OK to think he's talented, right? Two hit albums AND he's one of the best SNL hosts ever AND he sold at the highest point possible on Britney's stock AND he wrote the best revenge song ever (the "Cry Me A River" song that pretty much murdered Britney's soul) AND he's plowing through every hot female in Hollywood right now. He's a hero, I say.

8:59 -- Mayer upsets Timberlake to win the Grammy for "Best Pop Vocal Album." JT looks bummed out for a split second until remembering that he bagged Jessica Biel and Scarlett Johannson in the past three weeks.

9:39 -- Best moment of the night: LeAnn Rimes and Mandy Moore Coming out to present as the camera cuts to Jamie Foxx studying them with one of those, "Wait, have I been with either of them yet?" looks on his face. Classic. He's the best.

10:04 -- They just showed that VCast commercial for "Fergalicious," which made me think of Adam Carolla's riff about how hip-hop stars and rappers are the only people who can get away with singing songs where the chorus is their own name. Like, you'd never hear John Mayer record a song called "I'm John Mayer ... J-O-H-N John Mayer ... all the girls on the planet are digging me ... I'm so sexy and so handsome and there's plenty to see ... I'm J-O-H-N John Mayer."

10:19 -- Hey, did you ever think you'd see the day when Christina Aguilera was much prettier, sexier AND cleaner-looking than Britney Spears? Me neither. Britney won the battle, Christina won the war. Who woulda thunk?

10:30 -- Yet another disappointment: A ho-hum "Here's who died this year" montage until the James Brown money shot. I'd give it a D-plus. They should have thrown Britney in there for comedy's sake.

10:59 -- As Quentin Tarantino and Tony Bennett announce the nominees for "Record of the Year," we see a shot of a smiling Paris Hilton in the crowd. Good God, can that girl do anything to end her own career? Sex tapes, racial slurs, drugs, hateful personality, no discernable talent at all ... and she's still chugging along. Are we sure she's not Satan? Let's chop her head off and see if it grows back.

Fatherly Advice

It's probably weird that I recall this now, a couple of weeks after it happened, but it's still noteworthy.

I'm sitting at the chanter table at band practice the Sunday after Justin's little shindig, looking worse than death... I was actually groaning and putting my head on the table every time we stopped playing. At one break, the Pipe Major asks...

PM: Good night last night?
Me: Oh, for sure... but I think I'm going to need to take some time off.
PM: Oh, really? Imagine how it feels when you get to my age! [he's around 50, I think]
Me: Well, if I don't slow down, I might never find out....
PM: Oh, sure you will. I made it didn't I? And I never even had to take time out of Pipe Bands! Most of the guys I grew up with moved away from it once they got families and stuff.
Me: You're giving me hope!
PM: Yeah, I guess I'm proof that it can be done...

Maybe this is weird, maybe it's not...

Or maybe the subculture that is Pipe Bands just breeds this kinda stuff, but Saturday I drove the best part of an hour to attend the birthday party of one of my exes.

Now, I was told this was weird by one of my friends, as he is more the type to "cut bait" when he breaks up with someone. I, however, don't see the big effing deal, as I tend not to date someone if I don't genuinely enjoy their company... hence why I'm friends, or at least on somewhat civil speaking terms with just about everyone I've dated. I'm not the type to grin a bear a moron just because I'm going to get laid (maybe that's the weirdest thing in this whole post), so while there's usually a (sometimes lengthy) cooling off period after any break up, as long as we come across each other again (intended), it will tend to be amicable. Example? This fall, she joined the band I play with. I missed that particular practice as I was recovering from John Orr (read: I can stagger into practice only slightly late, and perhaps more than slightly screwed up from the night before, or I can have breakfast with a friend and blow the thing off entirely), however, I received two calls from people advising me of her attendance. Of course, that didn't so much matter, as I was actually one of the people encouraging her to come out to the band. She's a pretty good player who could only help us, so it made sense. We have now reinstalled ourselves as two of the last people (along with the same cast of characters from last year) to leave the pub after practice.

Beyond that, through the wonder that is the incestuous world of pipe bands, I know her brother, housemate and new boyfriend, all of whom were in attendance Saturday.

In short, it was good times. We got her drunk to the point she had trouble forming coherent thoughts, and as a nice change of pace, I didn't have to be the one making sure she didn't swallow her tongue. :)

My life, as summed up by a quote from Seinfeld...

Elaine [talking about a new bf]: I think you'd really like him.
Jerry: Why do people always say that? I hate everyone.

If you don't get it, don't ask...

Tony Blair is visiting an Edinburgh hospital. He enters a ward full of patients with no obvious sign of injury and greets one.

The patient replies:
"Fair fa your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the pudding race,
Aboon them o' you take your place,
Painch, tripe or thairm,
As langs my airm."

Blair is confused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient.

The patient responds:
"Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit."

Even more confused, and his grin now rictus-like, the PM moves on to the next patient, who immediately begins to chant:
"We sleekit, cowerin, timorous beastie,
Thou needna start awa saehastie,
Wi bickerin brattle."

Now seriously troubled, Blair turns to the accompanying doctor and asks
"What kind of facility is this? A mental ward?"
"No", replies the doctor. "This is the serious Burns unit."

I've never been so alone, and I've never been so alive

That's the closing lyric to Third Eye Blind's "Motorcycle Drive-By" (this may become a theme), but I thought it an appropriate title to this post, as I look at my tenth consecutive Valentine's Day on my own. Not that I've been single that whole time (though granted, significant portions of it), it's just that a few have fallen at weird times in some relationships, far too early in others (less than a week hardly qualifies for long stem roses), and just plain missed them entirely... but whatever...

Now, this isn't going to be some angry rant against the supposed holiday. There are plenty of good things about Valentine's Day, not the least of which being that it forces otherwise emotionally distant guys to man up and make some, albeit forced, romantic gesture towards the woman in their life. And while they will pretend to hate it, that can't be all bad, can it?

Anyway, the reason I opened with the title I did was that while I have spent an inordinate number of Valentine's Days without anyone expecting much of me, I have no real issues with it. I am, after all, basically a loner at heart. While I love my friends and family, sometimes I want nothing more than to be on my own. It makes me happy. When I feel obliged to spend time with people for no reason other than I am supposed to, it annoys me, and I don't tend to hide that annoyance well. Maybe it's the only child thing... who knows. But I don't think it really has much impact on why I've been single for so many of these Hallmark Holidays. I just thought it needed prefacing that I'm not complaining, or depressed or anything because of it. In fact, it's mostly my own doing.

It's not so much as I push people away... it's that I see extremely little point in spending much time on a relationship that I know isn't going to go anywhere. In fact, I'll often even make snap judgements upon meeting people and decide on supposed fatal flaws that I can see ending things before I'll have so much as asked her out... so I don't even bother to ask.

Or there's the other side, where I'll assume that there's no way that someone like that would have any interest in me....

I'll get over you and you'll wonder
Who I am

Often they'll never have any idea I cared. Not that I ever tried to express it.

Alternately, I have been known to completely read situations wrong. My list of inter-gender stupidity is long as distinguished, and I'm not going to get into it here, but suffice to say, it's almost comical. I can generally read people like a book... until I care about what I'm looking for, or think I'm seeing. At which point, I invariably read everything completely and totally wrong.... only later seeing that I completely blew something I was looking for without even realizing it, or equally thinking, against better judgement, that things were going somewhere, when in fact they were not...

And I'm sleeping on the couch
When I came to visit you
That's when I knew
That I could never have you
I knew that before you did
Still I'm the one who's stupid

I actually didn't catch the irony of posting with this particular song's lyrics as a theme until just now... the first time I actually had the song's theme pointed out to me was actually by a girl I was dating, as we sat on the roof of her car at some anonymous rest stop on the 401.

The irony, of course, being that we never really celebrated a Valentine's Day as a couple.

And so the self-analysis of my subconscious begins........... how can I possibly expect someone else to put up with me when I can't even begin to figure out the tricks my own mind is playing on me? Meh. Not really an issue, I guess.

PS: Sorry, I didn't mean for that to be quite the downer I get from re-reading it... but I can't figure out a funny or sunshine-and-lollipops way to explain what I'm getting at. Oh well.

Funny Facebook Stuff

For those not on Facebook, I'm posting this here, too....

I : You are great in bed.
A : You like to drink.
I : You are great in bed.
N : You like to drink.

G : You never let people tell you what to do.
O : awesome kisser.
M : best kisser ever.
M : best kisser ever.
E : Damn good kisser.

Try it for yourself (say...in the comments, if you like?):

A : You like to drink.
B : You like people.
C : You are really silly.
D : You like to drink.
E : Damn good kisser.
F : You are dead sexy.
G : You never let people tell you what to do.
H : You have a very good personality and looks.
I : You are great in bed.
J : People Adore you.
K : You're wild and crazy.
L: Everyone loves you
M : best kisser ever.
N : You like to drink.
O : awesome kisser.
P : You are popular with all types of people.
Q : You are a hypocrite.
R : Fuckin crazy.
S : Easy to fall in love with.
T : You're loyal to those you love.
U : You really like to chill.
V : You are not judgemental.
W : You are very broad minded.
X : You never let people tell you what to do.
Y : Best g/f b/f anyone could ever ask for.
Z : Always ready

It's hard to feel guilty when you don't give a shit

So today I met up with my buddy CJ who hooked me up with that hilarious Robbie Burns gig. I didn't realize it at the time, but since we briefly "talked shop" and since he actually sells stuff that I (or my colleagues) could spec at some point.... he even gave me a catalogue I passed along to our electrical department.

In short, I got to take an exaggerated lunch, and becuase I was here until 7 on Tuesday, it doesn't matter. :)

Everything's coming up Iain!

So I spent the first 30-40 minutes this morning on a drawing. I have to print out part of it to give to one of my co-workers for a quick meeting this morning. Narutally, when I try to print, AutoCAD crashes, and with forethought never having been my string suit, of course I hadn't saved anything....

Turns out, he was going to draft it all from scratch, anyway.

I realize this doesn't matter to anyone except me, but it's always nice to have your fuck ups not matter. :)

Rockin' the Sam Cooke!

Well, last night San Antonio was actually kinda boring, except for the crazy bitch who thought Simon was from France, and suggested that because he wasn't American, how could he judge who should be the American Idol.... now what kind of back-asswards logic is that?!?

Anyway, the funniest part from last night was when this dude accepts his "No" verdict very politely, then says, "Okay, but I gotta do this as I go out the door"..... and starts hollering at the judges as he opens the door! Then, the dude's cousin comes in and totally kills (even if Simon was "bored" by it) some soulful Sam Cooke. Good times. Ol' Sammie doesn't get enough air time.

In other TV news... if you like to feel smart, watch the Jeopardy Teen Tournament, and slaughter those nerdly little self-important fucks back into whatever "Brains are more important than braun" after-school special they got plucked out of.....

Good times, but bad for my sleeping habits

So I've taken to watching the Daily Show and Colbert Report most nights.... and since I'm back in the office and able to get up an more human times, it's not really all that bad... but that's not really my point, I guess....

I was stunned at the events of the past week, as Johnny's actually making fun of the Democrats. It kinda threw me, to be honest. I've been so trained to think that he's anti-Republican, when I think he's just anti-Bush (note: capitalization!). Last week he was slagging Hillary, and this week, he's killing the Democratic Leadership Debate... even calling one part the "Humble-Off".

Now, I watch The Daily Show because it's funny... but I tend to get the impression that the female (and non-traditional male) viewers are watching for laughs, and more.........

That was my brutal seguay to the fact that there don't seem to be many shows left without hotties on them. Ignoring the shows that are supposed to have hot bodies on them, you even get shows I watch for non-hottie-related reasons, that have some smoking hot babes on them!

House. Prison Break. Bones. What the hell? I can't stand to be stimulated in more than one way at any given time. Okay, that's a total lie... but it's odd to tune into well-written shows and enjoy the scenery at the same time.

Of course, maybe we're touching on my apparent Hot Doctor Fetish again...... who knew I was a Golddigger?!?

That was yesterday, this is today

I generally live by the working theory that when life sucks, it'll get better soon.. and when life is good, drink it in, figuratively, or otherwise, because you're in for a fall. Basically, life evens out.

Why is this important? Well, to you, it really isn't. But I feel the need to express how much I like my job right now, which contrasts nicely with how much I fucking hated it at about 7pm last night, or approximately what time I got in my freezing cold car to go home.

Yesterday? Dragged on interminably, with bullshit minor revisions and excessive amount of printing and coalating and printers fucking up and more printing.

Today? Meeting with clients and sales reps for major upcoming purchases. Having productive meetings are energizing. Pretty much exactly as energizing as poitless meetings are draining and annoying (arguably the worst possible combination of feelings you can get short of bad doctor and/or coroner reports).

So yes... today I like my job. And in this ridiculous cold, one more reason not to end it all is always appreciated! :)