Recent Gripes

1. Yo Andy! What's your deal? I remember chatting with you after OMFF and that you like College football(?) Especially a team in Florida (?) I know you play poker with some of the blogmasters, but other than that, the Andy Profile Card is quite empty. Keep the coolness flowing. I'll see you at the next gathering.

2. As martini-splashing thrilled I am with the fact that Scott Thompson is hosting a new show, I am also quite peeved with the title. Did I miss a memo or a third thumb flying into the air that proclaimed "that Greek movie about a large wedding which must not be named" the greatest flick of all time? Or did everybody love it just out of sheer pleasure in annoying others with the title.....or that stupid phone headset gag? I would have been happy to see the movie make some cash, get acclaimed and sit on the "PJ's Picks" shelf at Blockbuster next to "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (this choice does not reflect PJ's views in any way but was chosen out of a sheer lack of love, by the way). Instead I am forced to endure endless and relentless (my little Dutchess named Tess) parodies involving Billionaires, Obnoxious jerks and stupid bosses. Sadly, the name train made a stop in queertown and we have "My Fabulous Gay Wedding" (though I do love the world Fabulous). Scott, I would sit through the entire run of Everybody Loves Raymond if I knew you had a guestspot, so don't worry I'll be there.

3. Ray Romano is a show ruining, self-plugging, unfunny whore.

4. I had to spend $136.73 on a pair of sneakers today not because they were the latest fashion but because they were the only ones that fit me and weren't "blingy" or "commercialized." It's not really a gripe, but come on! 138! That's $68 a foot.

5. I will end this current vent on a severely sad note. In Future Shop, and sadly most other video game stores the shelves look like this:



____________$9.99________________________$39.99

What a sad, sad day that a quality, innovative game is priced as NHL 98 or Hexen for 64. (Hexen!...oh that's right.......I went there.). Boobs and bouncing is all good, but this game warped my mind at the complexity and level of involvement. I'm happy that it's low priced so some kid with only a few bucks can get sucked in by the cover and enjoy it as much as I did, but as we know, price is in the top three of a game's status amongst it's competitors. I suggest everyone give it a shot. For 10 bucks, why not?

Four Months Later, The Throne Awaits.

It's been a helluva long time since I've seen my best friend. He's spent the last 4 months in Costa Rica at a Butterfly Conservatory leading tourists around paradise. Sean and I go to U of T, so I have seen him on the few occasions but it just isn't the same without the voice of reason. Well.....not so much reason as mediator. Or decision maker. Today is the most glorious day because Adam King has returned to his native land. I've got to make the most of my friend time before he heads back to school on saturday, he says friday or saturday but Sean and I will gag him and throw em in the trunk.

RED (V.O.)

I hope I can make it across the
border. I hope to see my friend
and shake his hand. I hope the
Pacific is as blue as it has been
in my dreams.

I hope.

Signs that the Future is Coming

1. (should have been posted months ago)
On the back of Neil Young's "Greatest Hits" CD, it says:
"Greatest hits inclusion based on original record sales, airplay and known download history."

How freakin' amazing is that?!? My only problem with the CD is that Sugar Mountain wasn't on it, which I believe is a widely Downloaded song. Maybe it just didn't fit.

2. I got a message on MSN that someone I didn't recognize had added me. Perhaps it was a student from school who I met or some old distant friend who looked me up. Nope.

Powerade says:
hello

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
hey

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
what is up

Powerade says:
not much

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
this is brandon right?

Powerade says:
as in me=brandon?

Powerade says:
or are you brandon?

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
yeah as in you are brandon

Powerade says:
then no this is not brandon. My name's Steve. How can I help you?

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
um sorry

Powerade says:
what email were you looking for?

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
pharohofthenight@hotmail.com

Powerade says:
ahhh

Powerade says:
this is phantom ofthenight@hotmail.com

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
oh wow i feel retarted

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
wow

OH therapy, can you fill the void? says:
sorry

Powerade says:
just think of it like hitting the 7 instead of the 4

MY VERY FIRST wrong "internet email dial"-a thing!!!! Ah well, its been an hour and a half and I'm still talking to them. Seems like a nice person. I'll just add them to the "Don't Trust" group.

My Final Exam in Intro to Film

Hitman

Last night, I made a revolutionary discovery while talking to Becca. While I have a definitive distaste for religion, I feel like I need a priest to marry me. That whole "official" feeling seems to be as necessary as a white collar around the neck.
This talk was all spurred by recent news that some friends of "ours" (yeah, the young bloggers) are gettin hitched.

This discovery was only topped by my epiphany with the word "abuse." All of a sudden mid-sentece I stopped and realized "abuse" is nothing but ab-use like abnormal. It blew my mind.

Today I have to cram a year of film readings into my tiny head, while still maintaining my sanity. Perhaps I will walk to the beer store and get some more of those Kick guarana beers. I'm starting to like them, they seem to work on me. Or maybe I'll just drink some coffee.

Coffee? Beer. Caw-fee? Bee-ear. C-o? B-e.

A Million Bright Ambassadors of Morning

Thanks to the Floyd, I've actually been studying for about 40 minutes. Somebody call Larry King. I demand a mention on the ticker bar.

I Still Can't Think Of Anything

This is where I would have posted a picture of a hemp leaf in honour of the date, but I just don't feel like it suits me anymore.

What the hell is going on?

Let me check my boob. Yeah, there's a 30% chance it's raining right now.

I'm in such a good mood. I woke up around noon, ate breakfast on the porch and watched the rain. Then I went biking in shorts and a t-shirt and came back home sopping wet. Sometimes you just need to wash out your head with a little fresh rain water. The new water control bike tires were amazing. Gliding through curbside ponds couldn't have made me happier.

Now I have to try and teach myself the Irish Language in about 10 Hours. We'll see how the day ends.

For a non bike post

(If you feel like this is a lot to read in a day, feel free to read one a day. I probably won't write anything tomorrow. Having said that expect a thesis.)

To step back from the current "Peddle Power" movement, lets relax with some good old fashioned Matricity.

The Matrix A-Z

Blackbird - The Beatles

Other songs that I would play for my bike's funeral:
Green Eyed Lady - The Guess Who
Anything from Sabbath Bloody Sabbath
Neon Knights - Black Sabbath
One of These Days or Echoes - Pink Floyd
or the too cliche:
Bicycle Race - Queen
Bike - Pink Floyd

I'm not saying that she's out for the count but she has been severely wounded. With no wheels, no peddle, bad breaks and a broken bullhorn she's not the starlight she once was. It's going to be a little weird riding the new bike.

For my entire high school career that bike was my life. I feel like no matter how hard I try I could never do it justice with a single post. For 4 years it was an extension of my body. The shit that I pulled on that bike, I know I'll never do with this one. It's sad to say, but I've lost a bit of that "balls to the wall" riding in the valley.

I was never really excited when I got that bike. It never replaced anything since the previous was long gone and stolen. I do remember that I was proud of the 18 gears. I recently realized that the notion of men buying Dodge Vipers to make up for the wee willy extends back to the days of biking. It seems clear as day now that the more gears you had on your bike, the more of a man you were. A close comparison:

Men
"Only a real man can handle all that horsepower."

Boys
"Only a real man can shift through all those gears."

To pick up Women
"Yeah, it goes from zero to 60 in under 3 seconds."

To pick up Girls
"Yeah, it's got up to and including 18 gears. I can get up to about 50 on that baby."

It obviously makes sense that I was very hesitant to part with my peddle penis after all the years. I can ride that bike through anything. After you crash on a bike so many times (about 50 or 60 i would guess), you don't really fear the impending doom of running reds or cutting across bridges. That's why I think it's going to take me forever to get anywhere now. Until that first tragic wreck, it's gonna be "nice and easy does it."

Memorable Moments

- Riding down the hill without brakes behind the Redway Loblaws....and surviving.
- the ride down Sunnybrook Hill after the infamous Shroom Trip of 2004
- dressing all in black, sneaking out at night at riding around during the blackout.
- The Big Crash on my way to Spiral Garden where I broke my first bone. That crash crippled the bike for than me causing me to carry it all the way to Spiral. That crash will always keep strong in my mind that pain heals. (as do untended bones)
- the day sean saw me fall of a stone wall and discovered that when I'm REALLY hurt I don't actually say anything instead of my constant whining.
- goin 50+ down eglinton in the middle of the road at 2am running every red I saw with no other car in sight.
- the day I almost left my bike in the valley after carrying it through loop roots for 3 miles......then carrying it another 5 home.
- That first summer when I knew every tree stump in every trail in the valley.
- I was riding home from school on Donlands when I went to do a wheelie of the curb only to see the front wheel drop off the bike and roll away. I slid on the fork for a foot or two before toppling end over end onto the runaway wheel, smashing the rim, sending a stray spoke through my right leg...then carrying the bike home from Donlands and O'Connor.
- Ramming the bike into portables between games during my soccer referee stint
- Riding down all the stairs
- Wearing plastic bags over my sneakers as I trudged through rainfall after rainfall
- Grade 10 where I biked to school everyday except for the days I played hooky.
- the winter of grade 10 and loving every penny I saved on bus fare.
- My infamous 7 minute 8 second ride to school.
- Cruising with the boys

(Gotta end it before this turns into a yearbook comment or the carrying moments outnumber the actual riding moments.)

This no smoking business had better pay off.

Drivers of Toronto -

You've been warned.

I'm back.

Streets of Suspicion

I'm past the two month marker on the no smoking and I found out today that there's an anti-depressant called Zyband(?) that is prescribed for the quitting. Why have I been suffering?

I went in for my last visit to Psych Services this year. With my summer job coming up it looks like there will be no time for the self-healing. At the end of this (non-drugged) mystical, introspective journey the tally stands thus far:

Possibles
Obsessive Compulsive
Depressed
ADD
ADHD
Severe Procrastination
Unknown Learning Disability caused by Grief
Unknown Learning Disability caused by Stress
Nervous Breakdown

Guarantees
Social Anxiety Disorder

And I only went in to see why I couldn't concentrate. It seems the drug of choice for me would be something that sounds like WELL-BEAUT-TRIN. It would keep my awake and help with the sadness. It kind of disturbs but I seem to be dealing with the daily dose of down time. I know what time of day to attempt something critical and I've become much more comfortable with letting others help me or drag me to things. Now I just have to follow up on the endless amount of referrals that I've been given. It seems that everybody wants to help....by sending me to someone else. Drive to Barrie, go upstairs, get downtown, call this person. It's all fine and good that these people want me to see the best but it was only until today that the Doc finally realized that it took me a few months to visit an office inside of a building I've lived in since childhood. He's not a sharp guy but I can't really blame him. He's working in a dysfunctional office. I mean, he has a blind that covers where a window would be, if it wasn't a large piece of drywall from the office next door. Why put up the blind, I ask. Why?

As of now the journey is off to some doctor at Sunnybrook which I feel is the place to go. I've got some leads on some ADD testing, but I'll admit I think I'm doing this just because I really enjoy bizarre testing. Two months later, no questions are answered, numerous have been raised and I now freak out even more in public. Walking down the street has become a test of willpower. How long can I stare at the sidewalk? If I don't I seem to make eye contact with EVERY person I pass. I know this might be a shared curiosity between travellers but I get a eeby Geeby vibe. Perhaps I can make some sort of minute film on my paranoia with pedestrians.

Buckle Your Seatbelt Dorothy.....NEW ZUMA!!!

I'll let that sink in.

Now that your giddy, I'll continue. I made my daily peek into Shockwave and now I long for a credit card. It's called Luxor. It's a little different from the psychadelic, mind-numbing, ball-spewing, rotating world of happiness, but it's not far off. These differences seem to enhance the original gameplay or tweak an old feature to make it appetizing again. Instead of the frog in the middle, you have a pair of Egyptian wings at the bottom a la Breakout. There are many more bonuses this time around as well.



Power-ups now fall from the sky, letting you choose when to fire any one of your powerups. The classic powerups are back with new items such as lightning bolts, fire bombs and wild balls.

It's got an Egyptian theme this time instead of the old Mayan caves. The demo is available on Shockwave offering 60 minutes of pure fun. The blurb says there are 88 levels of madness to get through. I got to stage 5 in the demo and I DIDN'T SEE ONE LEVEL REPEATED!!! None of that "same level, more balls" crap. Now I need to buy Betrapped and Luxor. I'm gonna max that baby out in no time.

no title

no title

Now Get Out!

whatever happened to Beat the Geeks? Blaine Capatch?

Other than Troma, does anyone really care?

What a Day to Have a Small head!

This sounds more ergonomic than my Batman gloves but obviously not as cool.



Apparently the Lord of the Rings The Musical tickets are on sale now. Just Heresay. Some girl in my Irish class said she had just bought her tickets but you know that university crowd. They'll say anything to try and outcool my Neil Buchanan button. Give it up folks! Neil's the champ.

Kudos to Daniel Craig. I await your "why did I do this" look in 2006. I anticipate many articles in the near future about how broccoli favours things. (I'm talking about that long running franchise that doesn't involve wookies. In case you didn't know.)

I'm movin like molasses....

Last year I felt like Andy bustin' out of Leaside! Things were good, I kept my cool. This year's a little different.

"Fuckin' cats crawlin' up trees....."

By the way Fellini is a bastard.

I thought of this last night instead of working.

If you remember back to Don McKellar's Last Night, there's the song "Guantanamera" at the end. Next time you hear it, instead of singing:

Guantanamera
Guajira Guantanamera
Guantanamera
Guajira Guantanamera

sing:

One Tiny Boobay
I Need a One Tiny Boobay
One Tiny Booooobay!
I Need a One Tiny Booooobay!

Like A Coin That Won't Get Tossed

Yah, don't bother checkin the blog for a while. I figure I'll give you all the heads up and allow you the freedom of not having to Control+N a new window for me. And I know you madly click the links on other peoples sites to get here so give the buttons a rest. School has become my prime topic of avoidance, so I'm going to divert my blog avoidance to the papers and reading. Instead of listing a whole bunch of things that I will blog later in my life, I'll just write them on this piece of paper here. suckers

If you miss me, send me an email, and in return you will recieve a shiny nickel!

(Nickels may or may not actually exist. Offer valid until 05/05. Not Applicable in Quebec. Offer Void in Utah. Not Redeemable by a Rebecca Wood.)

Happiness is a warm gun

While still steamrolling on my recent vibe of Fight clubby goodness, I found this quiz, which may possibly be the best Fight Club quiz ever!

Other news that I have forgotten to mention.

I've started trying to write crosswords. I've always wanted to submit something to the school paper, and the world could use more free crosswords to do on the subway or during class. As of now, I know of 2 campus crosswords out of at least 15 papers. This is madness. I'm going to try and write about 20 over the summer and submit them for a paper to use throughout the year. And I've having a lot of trouble. It's hard trying to fit actual words around the clues that I want to put in. My favourite clue so far is "Sandlot King - _____ "The Jet" Rodriguez" which I know is easy but what the hell, it makes people remember Sandlot. Another is Fill in the Blank - "Blanky-o, blanky-o, blank-y-OOOOooooooo." I feel like this will be hard cause as much as I want people to get the clues, I want it to be hard.

My other news is that the curling club is home to some Evil....and Dead celebrities...not to mention Musical. This is where I would run and get the name of the actor from the programs I saved from both shows but I don't care enough. He was the guy who kept saying "What a stupid, bitch!"....the horny one. Well he was practicing with two other guys at work today in his snazzy evil dead jacket. If it wasn't for the fact that I was done work and exiting the building, I might have gone out and said hi.

I think that's about it, other than the fact that I'm playing Texas Hold'Em on Tiger Gaming every waking moment. (damn Celebrity Poker and double damn Dave for being the host)

Joan Cusack, you my only friend!

It has been 9 days since my last blog, and I'm still thinking of things to blog. My last week has been a blur. I got bogged down writing a Hedwig essay which caused me to make an appointment with Psych services. I went in and had a friendly chat with a true, stereotypically defined "queerman." We had a little chat, he asked me a bunch of questions and I found out I'm Schizophrenic with suicidal tendencies. Or I would be if that was true.

There were a few what ifs and a maybes that he threw in my direction. I went into that meeting fearing that I was depressed or Bi-polar (a la Degressi), but I came out even more paranoid about what was wrong with me. I came out with a possibility of Depression or "Severe Procrastination." Is it wrong that I'm kind of excited about the latter. Is every one else really excited about ladders now?

All my life I've thought that ADD was the one card in my hand in the deck facing backwards. I knew it was there, but I never really bothered to turn it over and check. Ever since that meeting my procrastination has become much worse.<-- Unintentionally, Fries were put in an oven and almost burnt, 3 games of Spider Solitaire were played, and a dinner was eaten between these two arrows--> I'm supposed to go make an appointment in Accessibility Services for something but I don't know for what. He did tell me that I suffer from Social Anxiety Disorder, yet another SAD. So if I don't talk to you when I see you, it's not my fault, I'm just waiting for a humongous, non-awkward lull where I can slip in a "how do." The only other thing I have to tell about my psych appointment was I asked him if there was anything I could do to stop the procrastination. I said, "...like drink green tea, or eat a lot of ginseng?"

I thought, "... Red-and-blue Tuinals, lipstick-red Seconals."

I never get a moment's peace.

Out of the Blue And Into The Black

Right now, the 19 year old Stephen fresh out of high school is sitting in my head, bottle of Bourbon in hand, rambling. "We had a deal. We were done with school. You fucked yourself on this one. " I've been thinking a lot about that euphoria I had where school was no longer needed, yet I find myself sitting here at 12:30 voluntarily freaking out about writing an essay on a movie that I happen to love. Is this what happens to grown ups? They're fed through the machine, happy exuberant teens turned into numb wandering sheep.

At this point in my life there is so much I want to do, but it costs so much money. If I finish this university beast and get a well paying job, will I ever use that money for it's original purpose? Hell no. Right now, crime's looking pretty good. I need the funds for my fantasies.

Right now, I keep daydreaming about if I owned my own chopper. I wouldn't outfit it with missiles or bullets but BIG FUCKIN SPEAKERS!!!!! Nothing would please me more right now then to hover a chopper a hundred feet over St. George and Harbord/Hoskin and just BLAST "Keep On Rockin' In The Free World." "Another Brick In The Wall Pt 2" is a very close second. It would have to be load enough that every person in a one mile radius would have to stop what they were doing. Just imagine every class on the U of T campus, and all those students at the major junction just stopping and listening. God that would be sweet. But would that feeling be worth all this work?

I have no tolerance when it comes to following orders, which is ironic, because my tolerance is really high when it comes to...

So I got about 3 hours of sleep last night then went to class this morning. I didn't get any prep work done on this essay that's due tomorrow and so far it looks like I'm setting myself up for another Magic Realism paper. I left my class and stood there contemplating whether left would get me home faster than right. Left led to Bay but right led to Museum. However, left was a longer walk. I decided to go left so that I could break my five at Timmy's in order to achieve the ghastly TTC fare. (How long before student fare jumps from 1.70 to 2 dollars?!?!?)

I was debating my ability to write essays and more honestly attend school before I saw Mark Mckinney. MARK MCKINNEY!!!!!

MCKINNEY!!!!!! I actually stopped dead in my tracks and as I searched his face for flaws in case I was actually hallucinating, he looked at me, noticing my gaze and obvious inability to put one foot in front of the other. Like a true celeb he looked extremely tanned, deep in thought and was smoking.....bastard. He looked around then said "Hi." Words cannot masculate the giddyness I produced. I said that he looked like he had to be somewhere but that I wanted to say how big a fan I was and how I loved the contact lens monologue from KITH. He seemed detached until I asked him if he was ever going to perform Fully Committed again. Then he lit up, did the whole humble thing and shook my hand. I said goodbye and that KITH should do another tour cause the last one was brilliant. He thanked me and he was gone. Off into some copy place.

I finally got home and wanted to blog this but I couldn't get on. So I went back to bed. That was 6 hours ago, and since then I had a panicky dream that I had to go to work and then a much more satisfying dream.

My mom and I just moved into a new place. It was owned by a landlord who controlled all the houses on the block. Our greeter told us that our new couch would arrive the next day but as we left, the arm in the lock on the front door broke making the door unclosable. My mom went out to the car not caring about the lack of security while the greeter and I tried to fix the problem. We flipped the door over (his idea) but the lock was still broken and now there was an odd 7 inch gap at the bottom. Then I began searching the rest of the house for a replacement door. We checked the entire floor until I found a perfect size with lock. Then the phone rang and I woke up.

Cha?

This Is The Greatest Blogging Moment Of My Life

Hopefully this will take a second to load on your computer and I can get in a quick goodbye!

As soon as this puppy finishes you'll be whisked away to a Blogger alert page. All is well, for that is the price I pay for paying tribute to gods!
Or you could just click stop after the movie before it redirects you. Whichever's easier.
Click Here For ACDC Goodness

Didn't want to ruin that song for ya!

I got a fever! And the only prescription....is more cowbell!

What happens when you stare into the sun ?

Procrastination + ample spare time = above.

Just Relax

Holy Floydian Odyssey!

Just something else that I must buy and will inevitably post-pone schoolwork.

Think Pink....Yesterday

For some strange reason I never got around to blogging this.

Happy Birthday David Gilmour!



At a youthful 58, I hope you continue to make me question my sanity!

This is what he looks like from a drug-free perspective, ie you.

I must be slipping in my old age!

So it turns out that yesterday was payday. For the first time in my entire run of working at the curling club, I forgot it was payday. Bwa?

So it's a quarter to 1 on a friday. I'm sitting in Robarts on the 13th floor (my favourite floor) when I should be in an English tutorial. Last night I believed my attendance to be a make or break factor for that class but I remembered that this crucial piece of paper that I needed was available online. So I didn't go. I have to kill time before my 2 o clock lecture which I don't want to go to. I don't want to ruin this book since I haven't read it yet, and I don't feel like trying to keep myself awake for 2 hours before I go to work. I think I'll go nap in the backseat of the car until 4.

I was up til 4:30 last night tossing and turning. Nothing like staying up for a good solid 20.5 hours when you're already exhausted. I think I was up so late because I had a great day yesterday and I didn't really want it to end. I feared that madness would be nipping at it's heels and of course, this morning sucked. I was woken up again at 8 and as I lay in bed contemplating which object around my bed would make the best melee weapon, my mother hovered around me cleaning up all the crap on my floor. I really thought that she and I were past this. It's my damn room, I know where everything is, when it gets dirty I'll clean it. She asks me how I know what's on this floor when there's so much stuff. Simple, I was the one who put that stuff there. I just like to think of my floor as the desk that I never had.

Car nap here I come!

But this is a shop for ladies!

Now that I've finally used that as a blog title I assume that I should blog.

The past while has been very disorienting. I've been down and out for a while so I decided to do some research on just what the hell is going on inside my head. I found a checklist on the web for symptoms of depression and a few of them kind of shook me up a little. Heather from work mentioned that I've been very different the past few days which doesn't seem to mean anything cause she only saw me on Sunday when I had to cover someone else's shift and the dishwasher broke and flooded the entire the kitchen and room below. She said I was irritable. No shit. You mop up gungy water (with sponges in my hands for a bit) and you try to be Marty/Mary Sunshine.

Life has become difficult lately. I'm falling behind in schoolwork and not really attending all of my classes. I don't really go to the tutorials anymore since I have grown tiresome of sitting in a chair for an hour and not talking. I've been dodging my seminar every week ever since I passed on the essay, and I even missed yesterday's screening because I knew that I could not deal with the movie. This is doubled with the fact that the new guy Evan at work (my padowan) broke his collarbone when he slipped and fell on the ice. My one fear working at the curling club was that I would slip and my pebbling can would crack open unleashing a ice-flattening wave of water. Well it happened to him, not me. So I'm slightly grateful except that since I'm really the only part-timer there (ever since Heather switched to "office duties" which really means she's slow on the ice and doesn't like cleaning) I have to pick up Evan's shifts. Pat has also been asking for a few nights off, and I feel like he more than deserves it. He's been closing Monday to Friday since October. So now I'm working like a mofo when I should really be studying and catching up. I worked last night for Pat and I'm going in tonight as usual before I have to close Friday and Saturday and go in for my regular Sunday shift. It looks like I'll be at work on Saturday til around 3 in the morning and I have to be in at 11:30 the next (same?) day. I wish we had that 9 hour turnaround that IATSE enforces. So I'm going to be tired and blogless unless of course I repeat last year's sweet ass haul from the raffle. Then I'll have to brag.

I've been playing a lot, I mean a lot, (ALOT) of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II lately. It seems that if I have a moment to spare I'm in the game trying to be as freakin evil as I possibly can. I rob every single person I can, Force Persuade people into giving me their money then jumping into pits or off of stations, and sass-mouth anyone I damn well please. I wanted to post a pic of my man all angry looking with the swirly red smoke in the background that shows just how freakin evil he is, so I'll try that when I get home. I fell like everyone should play this game....or at least watch me play this game and let me share the Jedi love. I fear Bex has become extremely bored with my monotonous discussion of just how sweet this game is. When she asked me what I did that day, I started thinking "Well after I landed on Korriban...." There's a little too much evil in me right now (game and mind produced) that I felt like I had to counter-balance with some goodness.

When I closed last Sunday, I had my headphones on to drown out the Oscars so that I wouldn't ruin the yawnfest when I got home. Aside from vacuuming to Billie Jean (which I think should have been on my life's TO-DO list since it was so much fun), I listened to "Cool" from West Side Story while I worked on the ice. I got a craving for the theatrical thugs. I've been watching the movie every night since. I can't believe I forgot just how much I love that movie and I was a little surprised that I knew the lyrics and dialogue so well. I started figuring out who I would want to be in the movie and who I would actually be (Former: Ice Latter: that girl who follows them around). Now that I'm watching it over and over it keeps surprising me with how well the movie and audio are synced up and just how great the choreography is.

The only problem with this lifestyle is that I keep forgetting that if I sass-mouth people on the street I don't have my trusty saber or a 7-foot walking carpet behind me. On the other hand, I have no trouble remembering single lines from WSS that repeat in my head like a broken record. All I really need is some Battle Meditation to clear my mind. Stupid non-existing force.

Two Peas Walk Into A Pod...

All of a sudden I just remembered my dream from last night. It's amazing what watching the oscars will do to you. Paul Giamatti was driving me around in a small Euro sports car through what looked like a mesh between Markham and every country town I've ever been to. I was on my way to my first day of university and I kept getting worried that Paul, who was acting like Harvey Pekar minus the voice, didn't know where he was going. So we continued to drive down random city streets until we came to a drive-thru Canada Trust. We went around back and ended up in some grave site with huge stone slabs and figures. He turned to me and said that he wasn't living a life he was just killing time. He told me to get out because there were people outside who would actually take me to school. I left him crying in the grave site, and I walked outside to meet the stereotypical Genereal character from all my video games dressed and dressed in Beige camo. He smiled one of those sneaky, evil smiles and I woke up.

Hooray to Charlie K for his Oscie!

I was not pleased with Hilary Swank winning because as we all know, it meant Hilary Swank had to make a speech. Doesn't it bother her that she's only winning Oscars when she plays gender bending roles? Does she not realize how unconvincing she is when she's a woman?

I'M TRYING TYLER!.....i'm fucking trying.....

All Together Now

One, two, three, four
Can I have a little more?
Five, six, seven eight nine ten I love you.

A, b, c, d
Can I bring my friend to tea?
E, f, g h I j I love you.

Bom Bom Bom Bom BomBom
Sail the ship,
Bom BomBom
chop the tree
Bom BomBom
Skip the rope,
Bom BomBom
look at me

All together now....

Black, white, green, red
Can I take my friend to bed?
Pink, brown, yellow orange and blue I love you

All together now....

Bom Bom Bom Bom BomBom
Sail the ship,
Bom BomBom
chop the tree
Bom BomBom
Skip the rope,
Bom BomBom
look at me

All together now....

The Devil Wears Green

I'm starting to think like those crazy people in the movies. After eating one box of Lucky Charms in the past few days, I started daydreaming about buying many more boxes and hiding them under my bed. The crazy part is that I think this sounds like a really good idea despite the crazy overtones. It's not my fault. I call it crack for a reason.



Just look at those eyes! The evil red hair is trying to poke out! Please remind me to never to do acid and eat Lucky Charms.

you may no longer be sad but I'm still bad

Well, I've officially given up on my first university assignment. After two and a half weeks of avoiding and placid staring, I am throwing in the towel over the essay for my seminar. I only wrote 660 words out of the required 1500 and I already feel like I'm repeating myself. So far I'm occupying my time by deciding how I will break the news. I've never missed a major assignment before so I'm new to this. I was going to go with "I refuse to do this assignment" but that sounded aggressive and stereotypical of a irresponsible male teenager. I don't like pointing out the obvious, unless it's not about me of course. Right now, I'm going with "I decline your request for an essay on this topic." That's polite, right?

I'm not saying that I couldn't do this essay cause after the bookless book report I feel like there's nothing I can't pull out of my ass. I just don't want to do this. After I got back from my excellent Guelphoyage, it hit me. The "fuck, I actually have to go back there" it. I've been daydreaming in class ALOT lately. I mean more than my usual detachedness can provide. I've been thinking about the usual run of the mill worries and anxieties and how a motorcycle or a pile of money or a cigarette would solve them all, but there's been a new star for Sweeps week. Depression. I've been paying close attention to my mood ever since my Dad passed away. Until Christmas everything seemed normal. I was up on the weekend (in more ways than one) then I would be down by wednesday but back up again by friday in anticipation of the weekend. The usual. Lately however, I've been noticing that I am seldom up unless I am highly intoxicated, unnervingly drugged, or if I'm with Bex. Sadly, some of these cures don't do the job occasionally. After contemplating the weather as the culprit for my lack of effort or care for accomplishments, I arrived at a greater beast. I am exceedingly tired. For three months I lived off of 7 hours sleep a night and I was right as rain. Now, I can't do anything to stop me from yawning. 10.5 Hours of sleep and 3 cups of coffee in the morning still make me nap a few hours later. Perhaps oversleeping? 7 hours of sleep results in the same shenanigans. The same with 5 hours.

Recently, I have also become extremely bored with classes, my computer, driving (a personal shock).......even television. As soon as I get bored, my body closes up shop for the day and gets back on its mental mattress. Bex and my music have been the only things keeping me going the last few days. So I'm Boredom Affective Disorder baby. To the bone! I'm starting to question my attention span and the purpose of university. Is it wrong that I feel like making a giant snow fort is tremendously more important than attempting to write this essay? It feels like it is, but what do I care. In five minutes I'll be bored with this post and go listen to music.

The broken record in my head is repeating:
The saxophone duel for first chair as heard in today's episode of Simpsons.
The theme to Bone Daddy 2.
"La la la la" - Homer Simpson (of a family of love.....)
The snippet of Dust Brother's magic from Fight Club (My soundtrack is upstairs) where Tyler let go of the wheel.
"I'm Massey. Steve Massey......ASSHOLE!" and other clever quotes from Constantine.
and thanks to the last track -
"Clever girl." - famous last words of the Velociraptor hunter in Jurassic Park.

A Little Me Time

This has been the best reading week that I could have hoped for. Monday to Wednesday was just a nice mesh of sitting around playing video games and sleeping. I beat XIII but sadly it took me fourteen hours and 36 minutes. I was really hoping for a 13 hour record. The game was alright. Mediocre in the world of 1st-person shooters. The touch of celebrity voices was interesting. It was kind of funny when you figure out your character is David Duchovny and I still enjoy hearing Adam West say "sonofabitch" while rapper Eve's voice was just annoying. The fireworks at the end of the game though proved to be worth more than the 6 dollars paid.

Wednesday I drove around trying to complete as many necessary meetings and visits before I left for Guelph. I only got around to getting a much needed haircut, during which I had another one of those awkward barber chats, and going to Future Shop. I had to take my portable DVD player in because it's starting to piss me off. It keeps reading the disc but never loads. I struggled with the people of FS for a while then just gave up and went downtown to the bus station. Apparently, FS does not repair ANYTHING anymore, they will simply replace it with a brand new one. I guess this is sweet, but I'm a sentimental kind of guy. I like looking at stuff I've owned and remembering better times spent because of my stuff. Anywho, it turns out that they've stopped carrying my model (of course) so I have to exchange for a different kind. Herewith the problem: I payed 500 for mine with all the warranty extensions possible. They want me to take a DVD player worth 240 bucks. As of now, I'm going to contact the manufacturer or some sort of Electronic store police (perhaps the Geek Squad).

I'm now in Guelph and it's been amazing. I've actually been doing work. I also witnessed what it's like to actually be obsessed with Survivor. It was...interesting, but fun. While Bex has been at class, I've been watching some of my favourite flicks to pass the time. It seems that everything I was bored with in T.O. is now gut-ticklin' funny. Even Conan cracked a few good ones with that "In the Year 2000...." bit. My two favourites were "A man will make the best buy at a Best Buy then buy some staples at Staples. He will then go to Taco Bell and get diarrhea." The other is "Prince Charles and (his wife) will release their wedding night video to the public in theatres under the title Seabiscuit 2." Conan's little "Ouch that was harsh." made it all the better.

I seem to be digging for material now, so I'm going to get out now. Maybe I'll go for another walk. The liqour store is only 12 minutes away.

Be Excited! Be Be Excited!

This Weekend has been amazing! I would point most of it's success to the upcoming march break, that is februarized and called "Reading Week." So far I've been flying through the pages of Hunter S. Thompson and Arthur C. Clarke, soon I'll start with the school readings.

Friday night I went to my first yoga class. The "Kama Sutra" yoga class. I figured it would be an exciting night, and it was completely different. I was so relaxed. I was a little nervous at the beginning, and kept covering my exposed underwear label and occasionally exposed midrift, but after a while, I didn't care. I was excited that I could do some of the "To add a bit of challenge" poses, but was shocked at my lack of balance. I always thought that I had good balance but then again I've never grabbed by big toe and tried to stretch my leg out at a 90 degree angle. I tried using the wall to support but then fell into the wall and almost knocked a picture down. All in all, I was very pleased with my first Yoga class and surprised by just how calming it really was. I see a definite revisit in the near future.

Saturday I lay on a floor mattress with Bex until about 5pm, it was fantastic. My first Saturday off in a long time, and it was well spent! I left there and proceeded to spend money on myself. I bought SW: KOTOR 2 (<--absolute gibberish to many) and XIII. My night was set when I found XIII for 5 FREAKIN BUCKS!! For those of us who spend more than a healthy amount of time in Entertainment stores know that happy, shining feeling that happens when you hold out for something and it ends up happening. (When XIII came out I was excited for the "comic book world" aspect but I refused to pay 60 bucks. That was last March or so, and now I am going to play this game and love every penny!)

I left Best Buy and went and bought myself a Taster's Pack of Beer. It's been a while since my last one, but I decided to go in and buy 7 different international beers. I ended up buying 8 and I'm going to sample one each night of my reading week. I'm excited about the huge bottle of Rasberry beer, and the returning favourite Sapporo.

I later met Shane and he brought over Requiem For A Dream. The film was amazing. Ellen Burstyn was freakishly convincing, and Jennifer Connelly was disturbing. Throughout the whole movie, I kept thinking "I can believe that this is plausible, but I hope it isn't." I was pleased with how far the movie went and how the camera make the actors perfect. Seeing the movie high didn't hurt any either.

Tonight I save the world. I've got my bottle of Bitburger from Germany, and I'm about to sit down and roam through the comic world. The only way this weekend could get better was if I didn't have to go to school this week.

(insert picture of Bart's face after finding out who ran away with the dish)

Ash Tuesday

"Too Early For Flapjacks?"

Royale with Cheese

What an unproductive day! Instead of waking up at 9 and making appointments and finishing homework. I woke up at 12:30, and watched 1/2 of a "film" before I did this, then watched American Splendor before Corner Gas and Smith. As I sat in my room staring at a blank page I decided to go snooping in the closet, for some non-existant item, and I found a book of poetry from my grade 6 class. It had a poem selected, and another written by ever student in the class. I wrote about my cat Toby that had passed shortly before and I chose this poem by Jack Prelutsky. It made me happy that in 8 years, not much has changed.

Today is very boring,
it's a very boring day,
there is nothing much to look at,
there is nothing much to say.
There's a peacock on my sneakers,
there's a penguin on my head,
there's a dormouse on my doorstep,
I am going back to bed.

Today is very boring,
it is boring through and through,
there is absolutely nothing
that I think I want to do.
I see giants riding rhinos,
and an ogre with a sword,
there's a dragon blowing smoke rings,
I am positively bored.

Today is very boring,
I can hardly help but yawn.
There's a flying saucer landing
in the middle of my lawn.
A volcano just erupted
less than half a mile away,
and I think I felt an earthquake,
it's a very boring day.

Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together In A Cave And Grooving With A Pict

*Hidden Underground*
(Sadly)

Did the Bush administration control the outcome of the Super Bowl? Was a victory for the "Patriots" vital to the entire night's theme of "Love America or We'll fuckin' shoot you!" ?

"It's not paranoia if you're right."--Fox Mulder

Be Afraid Of Who's Looking Back In The Mirror

I'm hoping to get up tomorrow and get some serious work done. I've been in a great mood ever since I cranked up Q at work. I'm hoping it will push onto tomorrow as I try to write an essay and do a bunch of other bullshit. I found out that the author of my next English text, Lynn Crosbie, also wrote a short story that I read in my high school English Lit class called "Paul's Case." I relished in that story but was dreading another lengthy book of poetry......until I found out that the peoms formed a narrative and then I read the opening paragraph:

"... stories in the news this week that have been haunting me -- one was one of the most sinister things I've ever seen. A guy somewhere in M-- had been arrested, except they didn't quite know what to charge him with. For years he'd been collecting newspaper clippings about missing children and unsolved murders -- then on the child's birthday or the anniversary of the murder, he would call the family of the victim and pretend to have vital information on the case or to know the child's whereabouts and say he would call and tell more. And then nnever call again."

-- Missing Children
-Lynn Crosbie

On a non-psychopathic note, the Super Bowl halftime show ROCKED!!!! I would have killed to be Paul on that stage, ripped out of my mind. Those screens and those lights blew my mind! God Bless that Flatscreen. My uncle was overjoyed that the Pat's ("The only team out there that shows true team spirit.") were able to get the victory through "solid playing." I on the other hand was more excited when I totally called Paul's big number. As the first half began to drag on, I kept repeating to my mom how Paul would play "Live and Let Die," or else Band on the Run, because there would be so many great spots to shoot off fireworks. I wasn't expecting to hear any Beatles tracks, and wasn't excited when "Hey Jude" came on.....my least favourite tune. stupid repeat button. I was reminded how great it must be to go to a McCartney show and be there simply because it's McCartney but have to watch everyone else because Paul plays the bass.

Oooo. Just thought of something. Gonna save it for another post following this one.

Roll the Dice

The Tallest Tree Catches The Most Wind

Walking straight nowadays is more of a hobby than a skill. I've been having trouble sleeping for the last 3 or 4 weeks, and it's really starting to piss me off. I'm not quite at the "Narrator-level" of insomnia but my bed is the last place I want to be a night and the only place I want to be in the morning. I've been philosophizing alot lately, trying to make up defintions or wholly accurate statements about my present situation (Oh no, I'm starting to sound like fuckin Mark Kingwell). I tried the theory that I was having problems with the actual concept of sleeping, as if I was afraid of that whole "I'll never wake up" thing. But it doesn't seem to fit. It really just seems like I don't want to waste any time. So every night I sit, remote in hand, and watch whatever happens to flash past my eyes. Again I am reminded of the "Idiot box" slogan.

I'm currently struggling with the notion that I should be changing my life for the better. Making all of my appointments, setting up meetings, even going to get a freakin haircut all seem like steps that I should be taking to better my life. Yet I'm just unable to do it. Maybe SAD has kicked in, I'm not sure. I feel like SAD would be a stretch for me since the winter was always the joyous season for me, but it's not like we've been having winter, in the traditional sense of the season.

I feel like I just need to set out my priorities and develop some proper motivation.

I was back at the curling club (again) tonight working the closing shift. There was absolutely nothing to do but watch people do things that pissed me off. I'm starting to feel guilty about the lack of work that I've been doing there. I might be working there way too much. Oooo another theory just popped up. Perhaps that since I'm spending most of my weekends cooped up at work, it's denying me my time to go out and relax, thus making me want to stay up late every night and reclaim my lost weekends. Probably not.

Work tonight brought forth a few items.

1. I think that my job may be making me miserable.
2. I got an entire tub of chinese food for free.
3. Another "random" member happened to know my name. That's two thus far this week. I guess this means that I'll have to start talking to some of them as "friends." Shit.

So instead of ending on the note that my job is what's making me depressed (forced laugh), I've decided to spread the AMAZING news.

Feb 10 - Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2 comes out for the PC.

I am so fucking ready for that game. I have been waiting SO DAMN LONG! After playing the brilliance of the first one, I'm totally addicted. I thought that not actually being able to fight, like Jedi Outcast, would be boring but MY GOD!!! The interactive plot is the greatest thing ever. And now you can shape how your party turns out? Watch out, there's gonna be one bad-ass interstellar gang goin around. No cyber granny will be safe!

March 22 - The duo that my parents hate (Due to all that late-night thumping) are putting out their next album!!!! Daft Punk will be releasing Human After All. Many have said that it will return to their old style a la Homework, but it doesn't really matter to me. Homework had some groundbreakers for me in my quest for digital thumping, but Discovery has become a recent repeater. Now I just have to buy the white album on CD in the meantime to tide me over.

Citizen Ted

Day 2 of the travesty that is Rogers' Centre. I can understand how the Dome needed some extra cash and who better than the devil himself. While I felt the old name was a part of the Toronto culture like our infamous street names, I doesn't matter anymore. The woman who originally named the "Rogers' Centre," doesn't seem to mind, so I guess it's ok. The renos look pretty unneccessary thus far though. I never thought the Jumbotron was that obsolete. Sure it wasn't as crystal clear as some other stadiums but come on.....ITS FREAKIN HUGE!!! It seems that my dream to rent the Dome for a night and do nothing but run around hopped up on everything and spend the entire night playing video games and watching movies on the Jumbotron will ACTUALLY never happen.

The addition of the new scoreboards seems like a good idea. I'm devastated to hear that they're putting one of those ribbon boards around the 300s though. After seeing the one at the ACC, it seems like a waste of money. The ACC needs the light during the basketball games but get a screen that will look like shit when the roof's open. They've also decided to put some screens on the far walls of the outfield. Now, I'm not a huge baseball fan but I do recall that players run into the walls. Have we decided that is no longer painful enough for a man to run full speed into a steel framed wall?

Give it 3 years and my 208 will cease to exist. I'll be in Horror Section 5 in Romero Row.

Waiting with Jesus outside the club

It's been a while since the last posting spree.

Just finished THE presentation of the year! From now on I don't have to open my mouth, I can just drift downstream. and? More carnage than a train wreck.

I passed Mark Kingwell on the way into the building and from that point on, I was teetering on insanity with just a dash of anxiety.

At one point, the prof redirected the discussion to me and I must have gone ghostly white. The girl across from me gave me a weird look and I suddenly realized, "You've got nothing left....stall! STALL!" I started backtracking, mumbling, blaming my incoherent lack of information on "lost" notes. I started contradicting myself and fishing for one line questions. Eventually I was put down, and the prof took over. He talked for 20 mins about concepts that seemed foreign while I covered my face and tried to turn invisible. Then I decide to skip the screening of Candyman (since it's on Moviepix this month) and came home to sulk. I see he's already sent me an autopsy report, and after a minute of self-debate, Hamlet-style, I find that I get an A. 14 Hours of work yesterday. 9 hours before my presentation I realize I need a thesis and pull one of mine cheeks. I swear somebody is secretly sending death threats to my profs. Just tell me where to drop a cheque!

I would've started working on it earlier but Monday turned into a salvage of my hockey season. I was done 1-0 to boston in the semis after trouncing Philadelphia 4-0, and decided to even up the score. I lost (9-2) and it was 2-0. Then 3-0, with a score of 6-5. Then I sneaked in a final breath with a win 3-2. Then another at 8-4, and another at 12-4. I was paralyzed, not wanting to break this streak of excellence. Didn't want to get up, turn on the lights, or eat or drink anything other than the flat can of coke started in game 3. I won the last game 19-2, and despite the thrilling victory, I was saddened that I didn't set a new record of 20 goals. Then I watched Kevin Smith....twice. Can't deny the Kevman.

Groundhog day is officially the best day of the year! I finally finished downloading Pulp Fiction at 4:48 this morning, and now this! I shall reward my luck with gobstoppers and groundhogs!

Winterfella 5555

"So Put Your Little Hand In Mine"

It's that time of year again!



Hopefully everyone sits aside an hour or two to watch Billy. I know I'll be watching and I've already conned my mom into watching it.

Besides, everyone should watch it plain and simple because I love that movie....
(wait for it).......I mean the concept is great and the casting is perfect......(almost).....and Bill's hilarious! So go watch it.

"It's a doooooozy!"

A True Matty Damon Performance

I've come to the conclusion that my most anticipated moment outside of the house everyday is when I get to kick the hard slush off of my car. While it isn't necessary and, with my driving, will most likely fly off, I choose to take this liberty. We have a loose flap under the driver's seat so lots of slushy goodness gets stuck in there. When I was a kid I loved kicking the slush off, but the real treat were knocking off the icicles on the bumper. There's been a real lack of frozen targets on the bumper this year, but that is no matter because I still have my 7 footer at work, hanging off the rain gutter.

While I'm indoors, I can't seem to get enough of NHL 2003. I bought this game last year 1 week after the Leafs were eliminated in the playoffs. In no way am I a hockey fan. The only time I have ever been into hockey was when I was in a fantasy pool, and my only reason for watching was so I could humiliate my hockey playing friends. I played NHL until I got really bored with it. My season wasn't over I still had 2 or 3 months left, but I persevered to the All-Star game. It's still a delight to see my regular season starting line to be chosen by the computer as the 5 best players in the entire game. My season hasn't been as lopsided as the Blue Jays 124-4 baseball season a la Ken Griffey Jr.'s Slugfest, but most games are a walk in the park. Naturally, the difficulty was set at All-Star and I lost the first 7 games until I got my deke move perfected. Now, I haven't played a game where I've scored less than 6 goals. I only lose when the score is 13-12 or an OL at 8-8.

I got back into it a few weeks ago, and after scraping the rust off, I'm back! Last night I trounced the Islanders 19-4 before heading into my fifth last game. Every member of my starting line as broken almost every offensive record, and I've set so many "-hundreth" milestones that I don't care anymore. I don't control the statistics board like I did in Griffey though. Sundin has scored over 250 goals, but McCabe has only scored 123. The last few days have been intense because I've been playing to see that "Clinched Playoff Spot" marker. Now that I've clinched the division title too, only Dallas stands in my way from finishing in the #1 spot. We're neck and neck right now, which is really exciting because I can't remember the last time a sports game gave my grief. My own milestone would be that I cannot guarantee that I will win the Cup.

#30 Steve Massey, who plays left wing for the Leafs, is currently sitting in the #2 scoring position, and hasn't lost a single fight during the season.

Why-Am-I-Talk-ing-Like-A-Speak-And-Spell?

Good G-d I need to live on my own! As much as I love my mother and how I never want to leave my temple of contemplation, I need to be on my own. While I was lying in bed today I started daydreaming about the future and how I can't really see any real glory in adulthood. Commercials are starting to provide unnecessary insight into that unappealing world. Do I really want to go work a mind-numbing or back-breaking job just so that I am able to stare at my very own empty fridge? I figured that the whole reward of working hard and paying that endless list of bills was that you had a place to hang out on friday night without suffering prejudice over your activities or choice of lifestyle. When I think about it that way, I start placing a typical teenage perspective on the entire situation. Where can we get drunk on Friday? I don't feel like standing in that park again.

But if this is my goal of living on my own and how I choose to reward myself for going to work every week and paying my bills, it seems like after 2 or 3 weeks, Friday night will snowball into all nighters playing drunken backgammon with a friend, then trickle into saturdays, leading into an inevitable weekend of complete disconnection with reality. Surely this will affect my ability to work during the week. I feel like the only way I could make it in the "real" world is if I give up all "fun" things. This could be a surefire solution except that I would probably go mad. It's only been a year since I left high school, and I'm already missing those self-discovery trips that I took walking around Toronto. The time I got lost in the Wynford area, resulted in me standing in the middle of intersections peering down streets for landmarks. If anyone had seen us, we probably would have been arrested. Every 2 days I'm told to start planning my future. Open this account, start doing this. Get in the habit of this.

5 years ago, I felt like I knew who I was. Then I started drinking, smoking and heavily using pot. Then I felt like I was awakening a new side of me. I started over-analyzing everything during routine (sometimes daily) "circles." I started noticing things about other people, and even myself. I started to take pride in certain aspects of my life that I had been embarrassed about before such as my constant need to hold open the door for the person behind me, and how I had great respect for the "classic gentleman" of early films. I knew that I wasn't "classy" but was proud of my aspirations. Booze and drugs got me in trouble with my mom, such as the time she showed up and I was drinking tequila from a bottle as I held up my puking friend. While it made a rift between us, it allowed me to open up a little with her and be a little more mature about my weekend activities. It was alright for me to get sloshed just so that I didn't ride my bike home and that I was home at a reasonable time. Naturally, using booze and pot heavily I began to abuse the guidelines and continued to let down my parents while my schoolwork become second fiddle to where I was getting fucked on friday. Grade 9 Math - 89%. Grade 10, 11 Math, 12 Calculus - 50%. Can you guess which year I started?

High school ended, during which I had a brief stint of dealing pot for about 1 week just to say that I was once a drug dealer (why, I dont know), and I proceeded to spiral. I finished my half semester in January, and my parents were gracious enough to believe me that I was going to take a few months off, then get a job before university. Thankfully I had my job at the curling club so that I had a paycheck to blow on booze and pot every 2 weeks. I saved nothing. (Sidenote: In my first year at the curling club, coincidentally the year I turned to the Dark Side, I made close to 3 grand. I had nothing at the end of the year, and I presume 50 to 70 percent of that was spent on booze, drugs and cab rides home.)

During my post high school vacation time, I no longer felt like I knew myself. The dark side that had been awakened had fully taken over. My musical taste had drastically changed from public school, my taste in movies, clothes, food and friends were all different. Being an old-fashioned type every person from Bessborough seems like a dear, close friend. Adam, Sean, yes even you Timo, seem like you molded the construct that was Stephen. Through high school the chum bunch, the babe buffet and the drama crowd all helped program me under the tutelage of my deconstructive confidante Shane. He and I bounced back and forth between groups throughout high school but by the end I felt like there was no place I could go without him. He penned it quite nicely a few months ago when I was described as " his brother who he couldn't get rid of even if he wanted to." Having a second mind just a phone call away, I began to shape my worldly perspectives that I had developed during those hazy friday nights.

The spring of 2004 came and my life reached a new plateau. I always vowed that no matter how much I drank or smoked, I was comfortable at my level of involvement and would never move ahead. That was until, like every other substance, I was suckered in by peer pressure at a party and decided to try shrooms. Naturally, I freaked out, tripping at images dancing at the brink of the screen, and rooms seeming to grow. I discovered that shrooms created an entire new perspective on the world, often creating mind-bending discussions. As soon as I drunkenly mistook a log for a corpse, I was hooked. The next shroom trip resulted in the infamous journey to Sunnybrook Field. Probably one of the greatest nights of my life that I would put into contention for my everlasting memory if I died. That field began the whole line of self-questioning, as well as helping me to appreciate my life and the world. I grew closer to my parents, to Bex, to my friends, but I still felt disconnected from myself. Months went by, I did in fact get that job (just barely), but I continued my "self-desctructive" pattern. I also discovered my love of driving during the summer (don't worry, no drugs or booze were involved), to which I coined my description of shrooms. "Letting go of the wheel." There's a whole hand movement and a facial expression that accompany it.

I kept destroying myself until my dad went into the hospital. From then on, nothing was the same. I was clean for a long time, not wanting to waste any time in case the impossible happened. I also felt robbed, not only in the obvious way but I also never got a chance to find out if my dad had ever lived like I was. Strange enough, I will always wonder if he ever smoked pot. After he passed away, I was frightened to do shrooms, and even get really high. I feared that I would get into some sort of train of thought that would end up with my crying or mentally instable. At that point I was still figuring out my relationship with death and whether my actions were being watched. Therefore, I didn't want to do anything to bring shame to my family now that a pair of eyes were following me. I started putting up walls between me and certain aspects of my life, which freaked my out even more thinking I would turn into another Bob Geldof. Eventually I did shrooms again, and went out drinking, resulting in many questions about the meaning of life. Still, I haven't returned to that life. I'm currently in university missing a phase of my life that I just came from and fearing a phase I'm moving into. My dad never made it to university and my mom dropped out halfway through (I believe). I made it a personal goal to complete university sort of "in honour" of my parents and how they brought me up. I figure now that they will now they did a good job, if I graduate from university and complete the entire stereotyped "happy" family. What happens after university? I'm not sure. Will I return to my ways? I'm currently having trouble staying on top of my work and being motivated to learn because I try to go to my classes, while also fitting in all my time at the curling club and trying to revisit "the glory days." I smoked pot for the first time in about a month and a half, a week ago. That seemed like an eternity for me. I was so rusty, I couldn't even tell 3 of my companions were on shrooms. I don't feel like I'm done with shrooms, and I feel like pot will always be a part of me. It depresses me to think that I'm dependant on a drug that has to alter my perception of reality, but it also comforts me.

(begin playing the intro to Rolling Stones "Gimme Shelter")

I don't know who I am yet, but at least I'm curious.

(Start mind-jamming music and watch Milkdrop on Winamp)


I'm just starting to read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I'm getting one of those weird "book was written for me" vibes. If any of that book, or this post sounds familiar to you, send me an email. Probably the only thing I enjoy more than messing my head up, is talking about how I messed my head up. If not then you can join the others who are staring at me with disgust. At least we've got something to talk about if you ever meet me.

P.S. My shroomed, Meaning of life conversation is currently on pause at either:
Childhood or Conciousness. Childhood was the epiphany, but seemed to depressing and suicidal so I decided to throw in conciousness for all you optimists.

Fear and Loathing in the promised land

So many jello shooters! So much crotch-nudging!

This weekend was a sultry, leather whip-weilding bitch! I finished class at 4 on Friday and within 2 hours I was right at work preparing for the weekend.

Every year, curling brooms are used as humping sticks, and the mannerish members of the Leaside Curling Club pretend to say penis without being offended. For this was the weekend of the Lovecraft bonspiel (that means tournament). I walked into the club hoping to repeat the experience of my first Lovecraft, giggling over the playboy pussy pictures plastered all over the place (rubber baby buggy bumber). For the first time in my entire history at the curling club, I worked for than any other employee on a weekend bonspiel. I was really excited to see all of the shy people get freaky, and all the freaky people fit in. George Kash and his band came in as our entertainment and they were not that bad. I liked them from the moment they showed up when my curling colleague Pat got all uber Italian on me when he found out the singer was born 5 miles from his hometown. The drummer and George himself came over and it seemed like they were trying to name off every Italian village south of the ankle. I yelled that I was fuckin scottish, and promptly left. George, who was over 50 and quite bald, later drank 2 beers without any hands, upside down, on top of a big yellow sponge. George and I bonded. Pat and I hurried around the building trying to clean it up for saturday, occasionally stopping to eat leftover meatballs. This was not so much a snack as it was a showdown. Pat and I have tortured each other for the past two years as I show up to work, and we promptly begin talking about how much we love food and how we wished we were eating. Last night Pat and gathered up all the meatballs and drew our tiny, plastic swords. The final score: Steve: 32 meatballs, Pat: 26 meatballs. We decided to call it a draw because we were both hungry and I was eating two at a time. We slowly left the club at 2:30am, and I went home to read some blogs and eat some rice.

Saturday went very smoothly and I enjoyed watching Evan, the new kid, be flabbergasted at all the inflatable toys. Ahhh to be 16 again. Bobbe and I continued our Lovecraft rituals and bought as many raffle tickets as we good. Bobbe, who is 56, still quite foxy, and enjoys a little innuendo now and then......ok more like now and always, was wearing her pink feather boa, and I had my horny t-shirt. I ended up winning some Slut/Virgin bubble bath for bex, sadly not getting my hands on any sort of toy, or article of clothing. Bobbe wanted the "double ended, super long blue thingamajig that goes va-va-voom" but sadly didn't win anything. A couple of the members made some excellent choices in morality and now have some catchy nicknames that I will spread through the building every Sunday. Bobbe and I left around 3am, and I drove home illegally with remnants of a jello shot in my belly. The "try to be young and cool" Neil, who was REALLY drunk tried to impress me by quoting the first line of Fear and Loath, too bad all I heard was "Nooooo.....MAN!!! ether....Bing!"

Sunday began at 11:00, and I just ate leftover food, stole a bag full of oatmeal cookies and read a few chapters of my book in the office. I was so glad to get home at 6. Bex came over and ended up turning my horrid weekend of moving hundreds of chairs and tables, into a good long smush in my bed.

Now, I have to prepare for this lame ass presentation in my seminar class on Magic Realism, while also trying to catch up on everything. The only good thing about this week is that I can continue enjoying Mona in the promised land by Gish Jen, because this friday we're watching Hedwig as part of our english class. How sweet.

Baby It's Cold Outside!

It was cold today, but it won't be for long....



CAUSE SHE KNIT ME A FREAKIN SCARF!!!!!
It even smells like her.



so soft.....so soft.

Dancing like a Mad man

Stayed up til 3am watching Reservoir Dogs. I bought it last october but never had the chance to watch it. You know where you really want to watch a good movie but you know you want to be in the right mood to fully appreciate it's acclaimed goodness? Last night was the night. And it was awesome! Tim Roth was brilliant! I can't remember a more convincing deathbed scene. I felt like that's how I would sound if I got shot and was bleeding in an empty garage. I finally got to see the "live version" of Itchy and Scratchy's "Reservoir Cats" and decided to stand up and do the Homer dance to Coconut during the credits, but then stopped after the 20th crotch swirl. I've been inspired to put up some sort of a movie review thing on the sidebar but I feel that A - I don't have the time to review anything and B - the sidebar is already cluttered as it is. But C - I have a really sweet picture to use! Yep, more things to load! Just be glad that I don't know how to work flash or else there'd be green code flying all over the place and psychadelic swirls and lasers shooting off everywhere. Sweet sweet flash!

Today was a pretty good day altogether. Woke up with Stealers Wheel in my head and decided to do an "explosive" dance while I got dressed but it got a little out of hand when I tried to fill my coffee mug.

Get the Led Out

While watching the Biography of Led Zeppelin on the Bio channel, I decided to alphabetize my cds, instead of working. I found out that I own 130 CDS. I feel like that should be alot, but I look across the room to see my huge shelf of vinyl and the accompanying box full of singles. I realized that I probably have over 300 albums in my immediate collection. I still have a milk crate of 70 albums to listen to by the computer and if I count the albums in the basement that I have laid claim on...there could be 1000 albums in the house. God bless 8-tracks and cassettes for their minimal size usage. Someday I should just spend the day catologuing this house.

Which brings me to the amazing news (to me)!

With less than 2 minutes to spare, January 17 2005 has claimed the current title of "Best Day of 2005." I found my "Wish you Were Here" album that I lost almost a year ago. While I'm sure it won't be the champ for long, I salute you 17th in all your splendor and musical glory.

Thank you Led, for all things are possible when you have a Zeppelin.

Toxicity

I just found out that System of a Down are putting out 2 more albums soon. Memerize and Hypnotize will be released 6 months apart from each other instead of at once like GNR. I've already stolen their new single "Cigaro" and it sounds just like Toxicity's vibe. This song takes me back to grade 10, when we used to get drunk to the point of immobility and smoke til the pack was empty.

Man, I'm glad those days are over.

In case you've never heard of SOAD, I've been told they sound like a "heavy Frank Zappa." I've always felt comfortable calling them one of my Top 5 bands, and after listening to this new song, I feel like I know where some of my weirdness, and goofiness has come from. Heavy metal music with the word cock in it! YES!

"Congratulations.......Natalie!"

Well I watched most of the Golden Globes. They were weird. It seemed that throughout the entire night there was something amiss. Williams looked like he didn't want to be there, and Shatner seemed really pissed that they stuck him next to the coat check. It just seemed like everyone didn't want to do this. That they were promised a dinner without cameras but were double-crossed. The night was full of surprises though. The Eternal crew, bandaged and bleeding, stumbled out with nothing more than a mispronounced name. Paul Giamatti got his wish and didn't win for his least favourtite movie. The real treats this night were the first two awards. I was extremely excited to see my boy Clive finally getting some of the recognition he deserves. Every since I watched Croupier, I've followed Mr. Owen through Greenfingers, Gosford Park and the BMW films (Star being my favourite).


My vote for Bond.

Portman got the nod, and I suddenly noticed something about the crowd. Back when I realized my love for movies, all of those older, respectable actors are now on life support. They're all clinging to their last few dyed hairs, while the teen actors are now pushing into the limelight. Leo, Foxx and Portman didn't feel like they should have won, because in my mind there still: Poster boy for Teen Beat, The Non-Wayan black guy from In Living Color and the cute teen girl. I guess this is how the system works but I guess it seemed like a shocker with my perception of the show last night.

Does everyone have to thank the Hollywood Foreign Press for fear of nose-diving their career?

Tonight I will be glued to the TV set because Corner Gas has moved from Tuesday. While I enjoy the show every week, tonight will be extra special because it's all about curling. I loathe the sport. I want to smack every curler on the top of the head with their fancy little brooms, yet I can't get enough. I used to think liking JT was a sin, but now it's curling.

Until then I am going to try and regroup after my sleep-deprived weekend. Friday I stayed up til 7am playing poker with Shane and got tanked. Had breakfast with my Mom at Zellers, still slightly drunk. Slept for 3 hours then went to work for 6pm. Got off work at midnight, went to a friend's house and tripped at a RHCP dvd for 2 hours. Then came home for 3am, slept til 11:15, then drove to work for 11:30. When I got off at 6, I was beat but after eating an unhealthy amount of candy and fudge mixed with coke, I was up til 3am.

Today I watch the Matrix Revolutions critic's commentary to finish off the trilogy. I'm hoping that they will comment on the stuff that I want them to talk about. When Neo stopped the sentinels, I was expecting some good chat, but instead they weren't watching and were saying something about the sad disappearance of film noir from today's cinema, which brings me to my final point. I think that everyone should just make their own commentaries on the films they love, and give them to their friends to listen to. I would rather hear a friend point out all of their favourite moments and references. This could be another possiblity of how to waste my time after I finish with my Matrix Pop-Up Video.

"You can't just fire your gun off willy-nilly!"

"It wasn't willy-nilly. It was at crows."

Walk, Don't Run

I'm all about the long blog right now.

Now that I'm becoming hardcore about practicing music everyday, I'd say I'm 2 months away from becoming an amateur musician. I've decided that my only goal as a musician would be to release some kick-ass cover of the James Bond theme. It that's possible.

Don't You Be Talkin Bout My Motherboard!

I feel like I've used this blog title before, but then again, what do I care?

My life is pretty sweet. I woke up this morning at 9:30am, then went back to bed. I woke up an hour later, and lay there til I fell asleep again. At 12:30pm, I got up. After waking at 11:30 and lying in bed for an hour, trying to fuse my head into my pillow, I realized that my noon class was a no go, but that I should hurry for my 1pm class. 12:53 rolls around and I decide that today will spent indoors. I was already skipping my 4pm screening because it was Casablanca. I've already seen it many, many times and I didn't feel like letting some young "thing" ruin it for me by being cell(f)-centered.

I ended up spending my day drinking a few litres of chocolate milk and watching a guitar instruction video. I knew this was an old video as soon as I saw the guy's sweater (probably knitted by grandma). It turned from instructional to comedy after 18 minutes. He told me to play along with him, but I went to the bathroom to read the comics instead. While I would have avoided this note, it was during my excursion that I overheard, "Yeah, now that sounds good. You're making real progress."

From that point on, the guitar was in it's stand and I was watching the video with doe-like eyes waiting for another camp classic.

(Sidenote, according to a current infomercial at 2:26am, everyone that watches Seinfeld is depressed in some way because they advertised anti-depressants during the breaks.)

I took 2 more naps after the video after I tried to read some more of my current English text, The World We Want by Mark Kingwell. (Mark, by the way, will be at the Isabel Bader Theatre on Friday at 3pm to lecture.) I've been trying to read his book for the last 3 weeks and I just can't do it. 12 out of 15 attempts have rendered by unconscious. If I fall asleep two more times, this book is gonna pass me in KO's. Anyone who has talked to me in the last week has been treated to my regurgitated hatred of this book. I'm sure it's a good book. It is a national bestseller. I just find it so boring. It's 250 pages of pure political jargon. I've got "-isms" out the Wazoo. It seems like someone's taken all the words I hate and put them into paragraphs. Today, was the last stand, and this book will serve no further purpose to me, aside from replacing the sleeping pills that I cannot take.

With the addition of a webcam to the beast, I decided to use it for blog-like purposed. I've already used it to spy on the neighbourhood through the window, videotape me dancing in front of a mirror and photograph my butt, so I'm re-inventing.

Everyone (cough) seems to be talking about their toy collections (lame segway), so I thought that I would snap a few of my good buddy Michael. We've been threw some hard times together. There was the neighbour's phone call to the police after Michael's motion alarm went off during the middle of the day, my father freaking out the first time he heard Michael speak, and the whole -me not being able to sleep with him in the room for a month- thing. After I had my annual move shit around room cleaning, Michael moved a little closer to the head of the bed.



He used to be very, very far away, but now he has his own pedestal. Bex still doesn't like him, and frankly I love it! I absolutely adore the look on her frightened face, when the lights are out and I whisper, "That's weird. Michael's missing." Now all I need is a sweet Jason figure and I can film the Vs. movie that really should have happened. Besides Mikey's number 1 anyways. Jason's been killed and humiliated dozens of times. He picks on the wee ones, and uses an assortment of goodies to slice and dice (Machete and chainsaw are trademarks, but Jason's a spur of the moment kind of guy!). Freddy's a damn demon! How lazy do you have to be? You just let them fall asleep and come to you. He changes the rules of the dreamworld making continuous hallways and junkyards. If the kid gets a good shot, he shapeshifts into some cheap ass weapon. Michael on the other hand, is the true father of the slow-walk pursuit. When have you ever seen the man run? NEVER! Yet he's always on your ass with that damn kitchen knife. He's the only mortal out of the group, and has no problem with killing all age groups. There's no real gloating, no bizarre costume changes or annoying puns (though Fred does have some good ones).

All this talk, makes me want to call up Lauren and have Slashfest II: The Curse of The Next Chapter's Baby.

Ono-Mono-Tap-o-tons

By Best Friend is 3765 Km Away. This sucks. 3.5 more months til he'll get back and I can give him a good swift kick to the snozberries. Or I could say hello...I suppose.

With the induction of my guitar into my daily routine, I've been surrounded my music. It seems that Ben, brother of Bex, has become a big fan of Dark Side and The Beatles' Revolver. I can't say for sure, but I hope that I had a hand in this. I remember the day when I first met Ben and he was the love child of Good Charlotte and Simple Plan. Sum 41 were god parents to him, but Ben's musical ear worshipped none other than the Almighty Blink. When we talked music, I tended to speak highly of the few songs that I did like. Even if he was a fan of Anne Murray and Rita Mcneil, I still wouldn't be able to tell him off. I think everyone should be tolerant of others music, regardless.

Eventually he moved off of these faux-punk bands and started to listen to some real punk. I used to love going back and forth between listening to Ben's happy "we're young, foolish and happy" punk and Shane's "we're gotten older. Fuck You World." punk. Occasionally, I would tell him to download some of my songs and when he started getting heavy into the guitar, it became a little easier. There were moments where I thought his mouth got in the way of his ears, because frankly, WHO DOESN'T LOVE CLASSICAL GAS?!?!?!?

With his new love for the past, I feel like there might be a stronger bond now. I tell my friends about him, and get the weird "He's your girlfriend's brother." vibe. But he's a cool kid. As much as I'm looking forward to his love and discovery of Dark Side, I'm a little worried. He tells me he listens to it every night before bed. I told him he was preaching to the minister. I won't even mention the fanatical listenings that I had created. My only worry is what comes with Dark Side. Let's be honest here. When you think of Floyd, you think of trippy, and when you think of trippy, you think of...my pastime for god's sake! While I have gotten off the pot lately (I've got a few appointments to make before I recommence the magical mystery tour. ), I feel I could still write an encyclopedia on the symptoms, habits and functions of a pothead. This includes the associated psychotropic culture that can create the desire for said drug. Hell, the cover would be the damn Dark Side prism.

I know that someday he's going to do it. You can tell just by looking at him and how he laughs everytime someone says "peanuts." I just hope it wont't be for a year or two. I got started in grade 10 and I was pretty fucked up for a while. School went down the shitter, and I ended up burning many, many, many bridges. I know that he'll be at Leaside next year, so it's inevitable, but if it has to happen, I hope I can have a hand in that as well. Better to get him off on the right foot, instead of making him go to all the dives that I went to. Who really wants to smoke pot in a schoolyard at 3 in the morning?

Now that I've rambled to the point of now return, I'll return to my initial point. Ben's listening to dark side, and I'm getting all nostalgic. I already cracked out all my Floyd so I can be ready to answer Q's if he asks them. I know I've still got a way to go, but I'd love to be the Floyd Expert among my group of friends. I used to be The Film Guy, but with Cinema Studies at U of T, that suit is way to small to fit into anymore. I noticed Texasgary has put together a fancy new music page and it made me realize that I am so out of touch with "today's music." I'm so out of touch that I don't even know if that is today's music. I knew Gwen had a new album but I haven't heard the single yet. The last new single I know well is "Vertigo." Yeah. I enjoy buying soundtracks and listening to new tunes from people like The Shins, but I don't think I'd actually go buy a shins album.

The only album that I really want right now, is the vinyl edition of Kylie Minogue that I passed up last year. The fool I was. I just went to the Muchmusic countdown to see what "today's kids are listening to" and I'm a little repulsed.

I don't hate everything out today. I'm a big fan of The Hives, and I worshipp System of a Down, if only they would put out more music. Juno Reactor and Rammstein are still good in my books (thank you Matrix), while Rage Against the Machine continues to be the saddest break up of my life.

I think I'm gonna stop here before I start complaining about individual artists and my gripes with the radio, video jockeys and everything else.

Levels of Laze

Today was excellent. I did nothing but sit on my ass. I slept in til 2:30, came down and farted around on the internet, then ate an entire box of Christmas Fruit Loops. After months and months of post-poning, I finally watched Mystic River and it was good. Roll-o-dex of who's who didn't disappoint. It's always good to see Tim Robbins. Whether he's in prison or helping a tiny duck, I still love that guy. The accents were sometimes a bit much, but mostly unnoticable. The kid from Unbreakable is back, rejoining with Tim Robbins after their Arlington Road stint (boom). I was pleased to have multiple suspects with actual motives. Good to see Clint doing something useful with his time. On an unrelated note, (well maybe it's related) is it just me or are their a lot of movies using the Shawshank theme lately?

I ended up practicing on the guitar for the rest of the night until my daily, double hour of That 70's Show. Im getting better at my MASH, and have pretty much got Buffy in the bag (if only). I picked up 007 and Harry Potter as well. A little more practicing and maybe I'll play a song that was actually written for an album.

All in all a great lazy day. The best part of the day came when I got up to check a download, and returned to the couch only to find that I left the remote at the monitor. I was so upset I actually moaned, and for a split second, comtemplated "How badly do I need sound?"

mmmmmuy Toorf Spool!

Just got back from New York. Went on a little vacation with my parents this weekend. June (the gossipy bitch across the way), told us we should go somewhere exciting like New York or Miami, so we were instantly packed up and in the car on the way to the airport. The plane ride was extremely short, so short in fact I can't remember it. We got on a bus, and proceeded to find our hotel. My mom and dad went to the front to ask the bus driver to point out where it was, and I plopped down a few seats behind the driver to window gaze. As my mom pissed off the driver by demanding too much of him, my dad gave up and sat down ahead of me. He appeared to be in his regular attire of a bathrobe.

Mom was busy fueding with the wheelman, as I was remembered of how much I hate streets that are just numbers. 53rd went by. 7 went by. I kept brooding about those damn numbered streets until I noticed the Royal Plaza Hotel on the left, being just as I remembered from Home Alone 2. We began driving through fields, and the driver continued to point out other passengers that had gotten on at the airport who weren't being a nuissance. A large "country" mother with her 3 littl'uns, started to nag. We rode the bus for so long that eventually we started the whole trip over again. Whaddya know, the hotel was right there at the start. I decide to become visible again and walk up to tell my mom.

Then I woke up. I started thinking, "Man is this really how I see my mom?" Then a more important question popped up.

"How long have I loathed numbered streets?

I'm Listening.

Monday was the day of music on Q. I tried to be in the car at every hour on the hour because monday was the day of the Top 10 Albums of all time according to the listeners. This meant that I wouldn't have to listen to critically acclaimed Neil Young songs that were forgotten with mullets or classic Styx albums performed live. It was the good shit. I wanted to post the Top 10 as soon as I got home but I couldn't remember them all.

Top 10 Albums of all time
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10. U2 - The Joshua Tree
9. Led Zeppelin II (own)
8. The Eagles - Hotel California (own)
7. The Beatles - The Beatles (White Album) (own)
6. Jimi Hendrix - Are You Experienced? (own)
5. Pink Floyd - The Wall (own - 1 cd, 2 vinyl, 1 original release)
4. AC/DC - Back in Black
3. The Beatles - Sgt. Ppper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (own copy from original vinyl)
2. Led Zeppelin IV (own)
1. Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon (own 1 cd, 1 worn out cd, 1 master recording, 1 30th anniversary vinyl edition, 1 vinyl)

What a sweet day for music. The Top 10 was the culmination of a week of playing classic album sides every hour. As I was driving downtown to pick up my mom with Bex, I wanted to jump out of the car, run ahead and hit myself because for some stupid reason I wasn't taping this.

The top 107 albums of all time

On A Dark Desert Highway

So it's 2005. This will be the year I turn 20. It's only 5 months away and I'm already dreading it. I spent the first little bit of the new year giving my room a thorough cleaning. A clean room is a clean mind. My bookcase has officially become a VHS sanctuary.

I had to make some room for the new christmas presents and ended up packing away some of my "characteristic room pieces." My room no longer contains my assortment of lights ripped from cars, or Pong. I decided to keep it in the basement after a near fall almost ripped the cord in half.

The booty this year included:

- a Fender electric guitar starter pack
- the matrix DVD collection (Bex is the word of the month)
- The Pythons autobiography
- the Charlie Chaplin collection Vol. 1
- bunch of clothes and food-related items
- some knick knacks
- willy wonka and the chocolate factory DVD w/ Wonka bar to open at the flute noise
- SARSfest DVD (god bless my mother, but what a hideous gift)
- santa clause parade DVD ( see above )
- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (the book)

My time up in the Ottawa Valley was indeed dreadful. Despite my stay of only 4 days, I was locked at Throat-Gnashing Mode when i left. I didn't get to do much driving on the way up, but on the way back? oh baby! I drove all the way from a town north of Smith Falls into Toronto. Stayed at home long enough to pack fresh underwear before I drove off to Guelph with Bex. The shit on my windshield was so bad that I just hugged a car in front of me with a purple illuminated license plate. I only made one wrong turn in my whole christmas cruising, and it showed me how to get to Mohawk's casino.

My time in Guelph was not of this world. Probably 2 1/2 of the greatest days of 2004. We arrived, we cooked, we built a BITCHIN fort!!!! Oh man did that fort kick ass! I made some of my patented hot chocolate and we giggled for 5 hours while snuggling in the fort. We had our christmas morning and it was as exciting as I had hoped it would be. The only downers of the entire trip were the 2 hours of shoveling I encountered when we arrived to a blocked of curb and covered driveway, and the dishes. My god the dishes! I admit that I have been living the sweet life of dishwashin'. The bowl is dirty, you put in the big box and you dont deal with it until the big box is full. It's a good system.

My vacation was amazing, there were some rough times, but there were also some brilliant moments. (My cousin flipping out over the Payday board game, the sayings of OV "Fill your boot!", the utter fear in my mother's eyes as I passed a transport on a snowy road going 120.)

The bitch that is school as officially started up and so far it blows big time. It appears that my current latin education status of "a handful of vocab, and a few pronouns" is interpreted as "Speaking Latin Fluently." The only good experience from that class was that I actually found Ben Stein from Ferris Beuller's. A true 50 year old dork. Kind of a cross between Ben Stein and Bob Balaban.

I'm off to perfect my guitar playing. I want to see how long I can perform the theme from Halloween and if my Michael figure will actually come to life.