For this fantastic weekend, please remember. Be safe, don't be Haley.
or for that matter....britney.
By the way, if you haven't seen the clip yet go and watch it. You will never think the same way again about Federline. That poor, brave soul.
oh and please don't think that this is the earth shattering news that brought me back to the blog. more of a "while waiting for downloads....got bored."
Friday, August 18, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Reach for the sky Gringo!
It is really important that I do well in university, and in life.
This has all become apparently clear to me after viewing this.
Life can get no worse for this guy. Not only is he a sad man but he's a sad man who can't put a costume together. Would a mexican bandito really roll up his nice khaki pants.....(then do a white wacky dance?)? I will use this image today to inspire confidence within my life as to never turn out like this guy. If you click here you can get a superview of the pic, blown up enough that you can see his ambition slowly choking within his eyes. Unless of course he wanted to be a mexican bandito when he was a child, and then that makes this post utter nonsense as I only wish I could experience the joy of fulfillment that he must be experiencing under his moustachio'd smile. So.
But the really sad point, dont you wonder if after he did this he was extremely proud of himself?
This has all become apparently clear to me after viewing this.
Life can get no worse for this guy. Not only is he a sad man but he's a sad man who can't put a costume together. Would a mexican bandito really roll up his nice khaki pants.....(then do a white wacky dance?)? I will use this image today to inspire confidence within my life as to never turn out like this guy. If you click here you can get a superview of the pic, blown up enough that you can see his ambition slowly choking within his eyes. Unless of course he wanted to be a mexican bandito when he was a child, and then that makes this post utter nonsense as I only wish I could experience the joy of fulfillment that he must be experiencing under his moustachio'd smile. So.
But the really sad point, dont you wonder if after he did this he was extremely proud of himself?
Thursday.....Noon......Absolute Joy
Shakespeare and Film Theory left....
Set your alarms....
And prepare.....
For chaos....
35 hours....
left....
!....
Set your alarms....
And prepare.....
For chaos....
35 hours....
left....
!....
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
I darted over here to write this...
So I'm still in heavy study mode. Almost cried while writing the first so I've decided to do whatever i can to make the other ones better. Even though this exam was for the clown class that I should have dropped earlier due to the ringleader of a prof.
Anyways, the reason for my blog.
We have a dart board up in our apartment and it provides hours upon hours of joy and procrastinatory goodness, while also giving my trowelling arm some exercise. In between articles, I like to play a game of 301, then proceed to play a game of getting all the darts in a specific place. This tends to be the Triple 20 most of the time. We have 3 good darts and an extra one left over from the set we destroyed. Herein the miracle. I threw the four darts at the triple 20. The first two miss, the third hits and the fourth bounces of the board. I leave the third in and return to throw. First dart, Triple 20. Second dart, TRIPLE 20! Third dart....I missed but within mere millimeters. In I've never scored 140 on a throw before. Not to mention that there was a pre-existing dart already taking up some room.
The Master of 2011 Games prevails once again.
"Master of all I survey."
Anyways, the reason for my blog.
We have a dart board up in our apartment and it provides hours upon hours of joy and procrastinatory goodness, while also giving my trowelling arm some exercise. In between articles, I like to play a game of 301, then proceed to play a game of getting all the darts in a specific place. This tends to be the Triple 20 most of the time. We have 3 good darts and an extra one left over from the set we destroyed. Herein the miracle. I threw the four darts at the triple 20. The first two miss, the third hits and the fourth bounces of the board. I leave the third in and return to throw. First dart, Triple 20. Second dart, TRIPLE 20! Third dart....I missed but within mere millimeters. In I've never scored 140 on a throw before. Not to mention that there was a pre-existing dart already taking up some room.
The Master of 2011 Games prevails once again.
"Master of all I survey."
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Unsuccessful Uploading
So it appears as if I have not blogged in a while. Paper writing breeds blogging, but studying does not. I attribute this to my avoidance of the computer in general, aside from my daily dosage of NHL 2003.
I haven't been up to much lately. Sort of a passive resistance to responsibility. There's a virus on my computer that I have been unable to find, and prevents me from shutting down my computer. Needless to say, I have been trying to avoid spreading this thing.
My only highlights of the past while have been being sufficiently stuffed over the Easter weekend. Went to Bex's for the seder on thursday, where I gorged myself with more horseradish than I think was necessary or medically allowed. I also had another one of my, "I'm a grown-up now" moments. The next day I went to Picton with Shane for his family dinner but it was pushed to saturday since Shane woke up around 5pm and obviously would not make it for dinner.
That night however, we went offroading through his family's property in his Jeep. It was jammyriffic, to say the least. Not only did we get to explore the trails, and lack of trails, but we also drove through a few bogs. Around 11, the jeep was unable to get through a marsh and we were forced to venture out for their tractor. With extreme cloud cover it was pitch black out, but thankfully we had one of those flashlight lanterns that I proceeded to carry since I had a higher reach. It was only 10 steps before I felt like I was trekking through Middle Earth or that we would run into 3 stupid teens making a stupid documentary. Once we were out of the Jeep, we realized that the foot and a half of mud was probably the reason why we couldn't get out. I was greeted by a 2 foot sinkhole on my first step out of the car, making a mockery of my lowcut Timberland boots. We found our way back to the shed to discover that the tractor was gone, but after a few phone calls we found it hidden near the very front of the property. We got back to the jeep and since I have never driven a tractor before, I got "stuck" trying to guide the Jeep out. Actually, it was extremely fun. The tractor gives you a tug, and you pretty much floor it in reverse. With no moon, I had a solid black rear window to peer out of, but thankfully made it out. We drove the vehicles back to the shed then made our way home, the jeep covered in mud.
The next day, I experienced a bizarre series of events. Never have I been to such a "traditional" meal. The men in the house went to the property to do some "work," installing new doors on a machine shed, while the women remained at home to prepare the easter feast. It would have been a perfect day if I had gotten to watch a football game in a sweater at some point. At their property I was able to: jump over a river, drink from a waterfall, enjoy a beer at the top of a waterfall and use power tools. All exciting events that I rarely encounter. The meal was delicious and Shane and I headed back to T.O. so that I could meet the lady before she returned to Guelph.
The next day, I went to the home show with my mom where I bought some dirt cheap pitas, met by boss at our company's booth, and enjoyed a sweet, sweet ice cream cone dunked in peanuts. They're ghastly expensive, but the allusion of traditional exhibition snacks sucks me in every time. I then went home and ate a huge meal with my mom. Thank you for relaxed fit pants.
Ever since then, its been a storm of studying, trying to blast through criticism on the last 20 years of american film. I'm not as worried as I was last week, but there is still a lot of work to be done. I went and bought some of the films that I will probably right about so that even if I fuck up the articles, I can grab some extra marks with some detailed filmic analysis, which I have been told is my strongest skill right now. My exam schedule is really pissing me off this year because there does not appear to be as much time to study as last year. I remember saying something like 22 days to study. This year is was 11. Nonetheless, I'm doing my best and cannot wait until all this shit is over with, and I can enjoy the apartment like Sloth intended.
BLOGGER NEWS: Not only have I updated my recent funds tally, but I have also added a new section titled, "LP Currently Running." I thought the verb "spinning" would sound too pompous, as if I was a DJ of some sorts. Right now I'm getting into the Big Band jazz period, as I am finally starting to understand my dad's taste in music. Also, bear with me concerning the frazzled shawshank pic at the top. I think whomever has finally had it with me scamming that photo. I am hoping to maybe mix up the template soon, bring in some new photos, features and maybe do a little work to get some action happening on the sides or top. Until then.....
I haven't been up to much lately. Sort of a passive resistance to responsibility. There's a virus on my computer that I have been unable to find, and prevents me from shutting down my computer. Needless to say, I have been trying to avoid spreading this thing.
My only highlights of the past while have been being sufficiently stuffed over the Easter weekend. Went to Bex's for the seder on thursday, where I gorged myself with more horseradish than I think was necessary or medically allowed. I also had another one of my, "I'm a grown-up now" moments. The next day I went to Picton with Shane for his family dinner but it was pushed to saturday since Shane woke up around 5pm and obviously would not make it for dinner.
That night however, we went offroading through his family's property in his Jeep. It was jammyriffic, to say the least. Not only did we get to explore the trails, and lack of trails, but we also drove through a few bogs. Around 11, the jeep was unable to get through a marsh and we were forced to venture out for their tractor. With extreme cloud cover it was pitch black out, but thankfully we had one of those flashlight lanterns that I proceeded to carry since I had a higher reach. It was only 10 steps before I felt like I was trekking through Middle Earth or that we would run into 3 stupid teens making a stupid documentary. Once we were out of the Jeep, we realized that the foot and a half of mud was probably the reason why we couldn't get out. I was greeted by a 2 foot sinkhole on my first step out of the car, making a mockery of my lowcut Timberland boots. We found our way back to the shed to discover that the tractor was gone, but after a few phone calls we found it hidden near the very front of the property. We got back to the jeep and since I have never driven a tractor before, I got "stuck" trying to guide the Jeep out. Actually, it was extremely fun. The tractor gives you a tug, and you pretty much floor it in reverse. With no moon, I had a solid black rear window to peer out of, but thankfully made it out. We drove the vehicles back to the shed then made our way home, the jeep covered in mud.
The next day, I experienced a bizarre series of events. Never have I been to such a "traditional" meal. The men in the house went to the property to do some "work," installing new doors on a machine shed, while the women remained at home to prepare the easter feast. It would have been a perfect day if I had gotten to watch a football game in a sweater at some point. At their property I was able to: jump over a river, drink from a waterfall, enjoy a beer at the top of a waterfall and use power tools. All exciting events that I rarely encounter. The meal was delicious and Shane and I headed back to T.O. so that I could meet the lady before she returned to Guelph.
The next day, I went to the home show with my mom where I bought some dirt cheap pitas, met by boss at our company's booth, and enjoyed a sweet, sweet ice cream cone dunked in peanuts. They're ghastly expensive, but the allusion of traditional exhibition snacks sucks me in every time. I then went home and ate a huge meal with my mom. Thank you for relaxed fit pants.
Ever since then, its been a storm of studying, trying to blast through criticism on the last 20 years of american film. I'm not as worried as I was last week, but there is still a lot of work to be done. I went and bought some of the films that I will probably right about so that even if I fuck up the articles, I can grab some extra marks with some detailed filmic analysis, which I have been told is my strongest skill right now. My exam schedule is really pissing me off this year because there does not appear to be as much time to study as last year. I remember saying something like 22 days to study. This year is was 11. Nonetheless, I'm doing my best and cannot wait until all this shit is over with, and I can enjoy the apartment like Sloth intended.
BLOGGER NEWS: Not only have I updated my recent funds tally, but I have also added a new section titled, "LP Currently Running." I thought the verb "spinning" would sound too pompous, as if I was a DJ of some sorts. Right now I'm getting into the Big Band jazz period, as I am finally starting to understand my dad's taste in music. Also, bear with me concerning the frazzled shawshank pic at the top. I think whomever has finally had it with me scamming that photo. I am hoping to maybe mix up the template soon, bring in some new photos, features and maybe do a little work to get some action happening on the sides or top. Until then.....
Monday, April 03, 2006
Dreams of Being a Bucket
I skipped out of Shakespeare early tonight. I felt really bad since there are only two classes left but I am still tired from staying up too late this weekend. I slept through a class this morning, so I think I should just try to get to bed early and get my life back on track. I left and visited HMV to buy Rear Window for my last essay, also picking up THX-1138 at 5.99, then stopped by the Tim Horton's at Yonge and Bloor to see the scene. I was so interested in what happened that I actually grabbed a Metro this morning to read what happened. This brings me to the topic at hand.
I have yet to "Roll up" a rim in the Horton sense. I've been trying to restrict my food purchases to only groceries and everytime I decide to go there, something ends up happening. Bex and I were going to go for a coffee and snack last friday but were pulled in by a tempting all day breakfast sign at Select Sandwich. Thwarted again. Today I was going to grab a coffee on my way to Film Theory but I slept in and lost that chance. Was going to get one on the way to Shakespeare but fell asleep in the afternoon and woke up to late. (See my need to sleep is very important. It's ruining my snacking.) On the way back I got a pekoe tea to drink while I floated through HMV. They double cupped my tea with a regular coffee cup, and for a second I was almost sure I had been fucked again. But then i pulled out the inner cup and I literally heard the flute whistle, from Charlie's golden discovery in Willy Wonka, play in my head. I have saved that very cup.......until now.
That's right, my big reason for returning to the blogosphere after a long haitus.......
To roll up a cup. So.....
.
.
(drinks remaining tea)
.
.
(begins peeling)
.
.
fucking tim hortons bastards!
Long Live McNopoly!
I have yet to "Roll up" a rim in the Horton sense. I've been trying to restrict my food purchases to only groceries and everytime I decide to go there, something ends up happening. Bex and I were going to go for a coffee and snack last friday but were pulled in by a tempting all day breakfast sign at Select Sandwich. Thwarted again. Today I was going to grab a coffee on my way to Film Theory but I slept in and lost that chance. Was going to get one on the way to Shakespeare but fell asleep in the afternoon and woke up to late. (See my need to sleep is very important. It's ruining my snacking.) On the way back I got a pekoe tea to drink while I floated through HMV. They double cupped my tea with a regular coffee cup, and for a second I was almost sure I had been fucked again. But then i pulled out the inner cup and I literally heard the flute whistle, from Charlie's golden discovery in Willy Wonka, play in my head. I have saved that very cup.......until now.
That's right, my big reason for returning to the blogosphere after a long haitus.......
To roll up a cup. So.....
.
.
(drinks remaining tea)
.
.
(begins peeling)
.
.
fucking tim hortons bastards!
Long Live McNopoly!
Do the Right Thing
It's been one of those weeks where I've felt like I'm simply a passenger. I haven't done anything productive towards school or life in general. I've just been sitting around and killing time before I get started on this last paper due next week.
I spent thursday night at the Friendly Rich show with the Lollipop People which was fantastic. In the beginning of the school year, we kept talking about vaudeville's influence on cinema and how film was originally a trick to be shown in between other acts. That show on thursday will be the closest thing I ever come to that experience. Everything that we talked about at one point, I experienced. Even the notion of show's becoming tailored to local audiences was displayed as Friendly Rich sang a song about George Chuvalo. It seemed to connect in my mind. The music was pretty good....despite the lack of audible words to accompany. My god was it good to see The Frying Egg Circus again. Man, I missed that show. In my mind, while the music is the focal point of the show, David Hannon stole the show for me. Every time he appeared I was constantly fixated upon what he was doing. His makeup labelled him as Dr. Caligari in my head, but it totally worked for the show. I cannot wait until next month. My god man, I'm even thinking of sending an email to my film prof about the whole vaudeville experience. EXTRA-CURRICULAR TYPING! lets not get too hasty.
I spent thursday night at the Friendly Rich show with the Lollipop People which was fantastic. In the beginning of the school year, we kept talking about vaudeville's influence on cinema and how film was originally a trick to be shown in between other acts. That show on thursday will be the closest thing I ever come to that experience. Everything that we talked about at one point, I experienced. Even the notion of show's becoming tailored to local audiences was displayed as Friendly Rich sang a song about George Chuvalo. It seemed to connect in my mind. The music was pretty good....despite the lack of audible words to accompany. My god was it good to see The Frying Egg Circus again. Man, I missed that show. In my mind, while the music is the focal point of the show, David Hannon stole the show for me. Every time he appeared I was constantly fixated upon what he was doing. His makeup labelled him as Dr. Caligari in my head, but it totally worked for the show. I cannot wait until next month. My god man, I'm even thinking of sending an email to my film prof about the whole vaudeville experience. EXTRA-CURRICULAR TYPING! lets not get too hasty.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
I got it! I got it - Shit, I lost it!
Give me a moment to recoup my ego. But i think i just realized the joke of Buzz lightyear....i hope.
"To infinite and beyond!"
Allusion to 2001: A Space Odyssey with
"Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite"
??
Am I a genius? or just exceedingly slow?
I blame this on Grant's scotch.
"To infinite and beyond!"
Allusion to 2001: A Space Odyssey with
"Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite"
??
Am I a genius? or just exceedingly slow?
I blame this on Grant's scotch.
Institution fo sho!
Had a nice revelation around 3am while discussing the bastardness that is U of T and the sweet hippie freedom of Guelph.
Universities are like prisons!
Gasp, I know...but it gets better. We've all made the connection of all the classes having bars and how our student numbers might as well be sewn on our shirts. The latest discovery has been that your choice of school depends your sentence. If you choose, lets say Guelph, you get the regular prison motifs. Daily exercise, gym facilities, food time at the (Kreelman, i think its spelt), the whole routine of it all. Papers every week, presentations constantly looming.
If you choose the U of T path though, just as I did, you are entering solitary confinement. U of T would be the happiest school ever if you never spoke to another member for the rest of your life. That way, of course, you would find out that not only your life sucks but the system sucks. Absorp this:
Being a cinema student, I spend my entire day in a dark room where the locked doors constantly contain misguided walkers. My food only consists of what crumbs I drag in every morning. No outdoor visits at all, having all my classes in one building. In this dark room, I am constantly alone due to the hush hush of lectures and the construction of the lone spectator watching a movie thanks to apparatus theory. Our assignments come in clusters every few weeks, making our lives empty and boring to only be visited once every while by some ass raping.
Steve Massey
Inmate number 93272757
Serving 5 year sentence with no hope of parole or common decency.
Universities are like prisons!
Gasp, I know...but it gets better. We've all made the connection of all the classes having bars and how our student numbers might as well be sewn on our shirts. The latest discovery has been that your choice of school depends your sentence. If you choose, lets say Guelph, you get the regular prison motifs. Daily exercise, gym facilities, food time at the (Kreelman, i think its spelt), the whole routine of it all. Papers every week, presentations constantly looming.
If you choose the U of T path though, just as I did, you are entering solitary confinement. U of T would be the happiest school ever if you never spoke to another member for the rest of your life. That way, of course, you would find out that not only your life sucks but the system sucks. Absorp this:
Being a cinema student, I spend my entire day in a dark room where the locked doors constantly contain misguided walkers. My food only consists of what crumbs I drag in every morning. No outdoor visits at all, having all my classes in one building. In this dark room, I am constantly alone due to the hush hush of lectures and the construction of the lone spectator watching a movie thanks to apparatus theory. Our assignments come in clusters every few weeks, making our lives empty and boring to only be visited once every while by some ass raping.
Steve Massey
Inmate number 93272757
Serving 5 year sentence with no hope of parole or common decency.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Mental Censorship
So I've got this paper that was due yesterday at 11. I've officially started it but I'm still 2 thousand words from completion, not to mention citing and editing. I've had another scholarly breakdown. I'd say mental breakdown, but I'm thinking logically. Works sucks. School frustrates me. My life would be better if I finish this paper. Furniture is comfy.
I went through this last year but a little earlier on in the year, about halfway through. So while this whole downer thing sucks its still an improvement. I'm trying to write a paper on postwar cinema but its just not happening. This is the fourth paper that has created 20 days of nonstop stress over writing. I cant really remember the last night that I sat at home and was not worried about something being due ASAP. The assignment isn't really bothering me, my head just hurts. The last paper I finished was a day late and only resembled the question through the use of the course title at the top. So I'm not really worried about not answering the question. I think I'm just succumbing to the pressure of wanting to do really well, once again. This year I'm not really experimenting anymore with school, I just need some fuckin sweet marks to get into my program. Then life will be good.
The thing that is driving me crazy is that I have had almost 50 hours of sitting at home, mostly alone, to write. And all I have to show for those hours is 350 words and a giant headache. It's the frustration of knowing that I'm contributing to the problem, and I can't seem to stop it.
Procrastination is one thing but this is starting to get ridiculous. I've even tried convincing myself to try and write 4 pages of garbage, but still that requires thinking and then it starts to hurt all over again. I've flashed through almost every depressive worry I can think of, and come out it remaining exactly where I was to begin with. I don't think this is a depression thing, I think I have just severely screwed my body up by not sleeping or eating and trying to burn the candle in all 3 places. (You can burn the candle in the middle while the ends melt away.) I'm just phasing myself out of this more and more, as my tolerance of school has dropped to zero. I'm done with this, I am so ready for the summer and working full time. I can't wait to be able to come home and not do anything....GUILT FREE!
This paper has two options right now, based on my previous track record. It will either A) take me a week to finish thereby ruining any chance of getting a grade over 50 (I'm losing a letter grade a day, + to even to - down to +.) , or it will take the scarier route that has been deemed Magic Realism. Last year, I became fed up with everything and refused to write a paper after a huge breakdown coupled with a caffeine overdose that just ruined everything. The fear set in after that and writing became torturous. Every paragraph was like a razor to the brain, and I had to sleep for almost a day to repair the damage. Now I'm just sleeping through the damage. I saw this coming for a few weeks as my apathy kept me from attending a few classes here and there.
I'm still focusing on the afterwards and not the journey there. Almost like my feelings while watching LOTR. I can see the end, and I wish it was here, but there's this painful torturous expedition that I have to sit through and watch unfold. My head hurts at the end, my ass is numb and my life is unaffected. I suppose I will reenter Room 101, for I must be at work in 90 minutes.
I went through this last year but a little earlier on in the year, about halfway through. So while this whole downer thing sucks its still an improvement. I'm trying to write a paper on postwar cinema but its just not happening. This is the fourth paper that has created 20 days of nonstop stress over writing. I cant really remember the last night that I sat at home and was not worried about something being due ASAP. The assignment isn't really bothering me, my head just hurts. The last paper I finished was a day late and only resembled the question through the use of the course title at the top. So I'm not really worried about not answering the question. I think I'm just succumbing to the pressure of wanting to do really well, once again. This year I'm not really experimenting anymore with school, I just need some fuckin sweet marks to get into my program. Then life will be good.
The thing that is driving me crazy is that I have had almost 50 hours of sitting at home, mostly alone, to write. And all I have to show for those hours is 350 words and a giant headache. It's the frustration of knowing that I'm contributing to the problem, and I can't seem to stop it.
Procrastination is one thing but this is starting to get ridiculous. I've even tried convincing myself to try and write 4 pages of garbage, but still that requires thinking and then it starts to hurt all over again. I've flashed through almost every depressive worry I can think of, and come out it remaining exactly where I was to begin with. I don't think this is a depression thing, I think I have just severely screwed my body up by not sleeping or eating and trying to burn the candle in all 3 places. (You can burn the candle in the middle while the ends melt away.) I'm just phasing myself out of this more and more, as my tolerance of school has dropped to zero. I'm done with this, I am so ready for the summer and working full time. I can't wait to be able to come home and not do anything....GUILT FREE!
This paper has two options right now, based on my previous track record. It will either A) take me a week to finish thereby ruining any chance of getting a grade over 50 (I'm losing a letter grade a day, + to even to - down to +.) , or it will take the scarier route that has been deemed Magic Realism. Last year, I became fed up with everything and refused to write a paper after a huge breakdown coupled with a caffeine overdose that just ruined everything. The fear set in after that and writing became torturous. Every paragraph was like a razor to the brain, and I had to sleep for almost a day to repair the damage. Now I'm just sleeping through the damage. I saw this coming for a few weeks as my apathy kept me from attending a few classes here and there.
I'm still focusing on the afterwards and not the journey there. Almost like my feelings while watching LOTR. I can see the end, and I wish it was here, but there's this painful torturous expedition that I have to sit through and watch unfold. My head hurts at the end, my ass is numb and my life is unaffected. I suppose I will reenter Room 101, for I must be at work in 90 minutes.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Carpet Catalyst
I was doing so well. I haven't had a bad moment in such a long time, but my streak finally ended tonight. I came home from work to find a giant carpet on my living room floor. While this could be seen as a grand occasion for cheer and floor rubbing, it comes a slap in the face to me. On the day (!) that we moved in here, I brought a large area rug to be used. It was the carpet that went in my old bedroom. We got it cleaned last summer, and once I decided that I was going to move out, I never put it back on my floor. Instead it had been sitting, still rolled up and shrink-wrapped, in my old house at the top of stairs acting as a constant reminder of things to come. When we moved in, we put it aside until we figured out where furniture would go. It had been leaning up against the wall by the kitchen, up until 4 days ago. I had not had the time or attention span to sit down with Shane to discuss our floor plans. The carpet was moved to the corner after he built our sweet new TV stand. Now here is why I am pissed off. The facts:
Aside from the obvious of, "what about my say?", I wonder why my carpet was not put down?
1. If the reason was because we needed to put something down to help dampen the sound, fine. Except that my carpet is twice as thick as the new one.
2. If the reason was because it is new and clean, okay. Except that we know for a fact that mine is clean as it is still wrapped from the cleaners.
3. If it was seen as a good size of a rug, well that's just stupid because mine is the same size.
All of these reasons may have held up, if and only if, the plastic on my carpet had been at least opened to show that "whoever had at least checked to see what it looked like. The plastic is completely intact. THAT is what pisses me off. Hey, you don't like the look of my carpet, fine. BUT AT LEAST FUCKING GIVE IT A SHOT!
Just like that swig of beer after the shot that really messes you up:
The milk was left out in the kitchen, destroying ANY possibility of creating a satisfying meal deemed "breakfast."
The insert for my Fight Club was left on a speaker, while the case was back snug on the shelf. While I cannot REALLy complain since it's now a household item....but come on! ITS FIGHT CLUB! show the respect to which it deserves!
Shane and Martina were in bed when I got home, but as I walked through the apartment cleaning, I kept hearing them talking. I respect privacy, but I think I was just still pissed about the carpet and deserved an answer.
On the rebound, Bex has arrived and she has jello shots. My thanks are extended to the groovy gang at 3QF as this will help me cope with the aforementioned.
Aside from the obvious of, "what about my say?", I wonder why my carpet was not put down?
1. If the reason was because we needed to put something down to help dampen the sound, fine. Except that my carpet is twice as thick as the new one.
2. If the reason was because it is new and clean, okay. Except that we know for a fact that mine is clean as it is still wrapped from the cleaners.
3. If it was seen as a good size of a rug, well that's just stupid because mine is the same size.
All of these reasons may have held up, if and only if, the plastic on my carpet had been at least opened to show that "whoever had at least checked to see what it looked like. The plastic is completely intact. THAT is what pisses me off. Hey, you don't like the look of my carpet, fine. BUT AT LEAST FUCKING GIVE IT A SHOT!
Just like that swig of beer after the shot that really messes you up:
The milk was left out in the kitchen, destroying ANY possibility of creating a satisfying meal deemed "breakfast."
The insert for my Fight Club was left on a speaker, while the case was back snug on the shelf. While I cannot REALLy complain since it's now a household item....but come on! ITS FIGHT CLUB! show the respect to which it deserves!
Shane and Martina were in bed when I got home, but as I walked through the apartment cleaning, I kept hearing them talking. I respect privacy, but I think I was just still pissed about the carpet and deserved an answer.
On the rebound, Bex has arrived and she has jello shots. My thanks are extended to the groovy gang at 3QF as this will help me cope with the aforementioned.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Failte! - Welcome!
Dia ruit! - Hello
Mise Steve! - My name is steve.
Go raibh maigh agat! - thank you very much
slan! - goodbye!
dun an doras! - close the door
fuinneog! - Window!
tit me! - I fall!
slainte! - Cheers
cead mile failte! - A hundred thousand welcomes!
An olfaidh tu oiche? - Are you going to drink tonight? <-mighty handy on a day like this.
So I thought i'd spread the good gaelic word that I learned last year. That's pretty much all I remember. You're on your own for the pronounciation. I didn't get up at 9 every other day just so some lazy bastard can get check it in the afternoon in their underwear....
A happy St. Paddy's Day to everyone. It's the day when all of a sudden those random sites dedicated to st. patrick come in handy, and you actually start looking at the holiday section of your emoticons, flash animations and e-greeting cards. This is also the day where thousands of pictures of irishmen and leprechauns will be stolen for the purpose of personal blog satisfaction. hahaha! I've already got my guinness, and my giant guinness mug to drink it out of. I've already listened to the cranberries "Zombie," cause FUCK IT I AM NOT LISTENING TO U2 AGAIN! I already anticpate here that crap shoved down my throat all day, so I will not contribute to my misery. On a lighter note here's a little irish joke for everyone:
Paddy the Kerryman died in a fire and was burnt pretty bad and the morgue needed someone to identify the body. So his two best friends, Seamus and Seanin (Also Kerrymen), were sent for. Seamus went in and the mortician pulled back the sheet. Seamus said "Yup, he's burnt pretty bad. Roll him over." So the mortician rolled him over and Seamus looked and said "Nope, it ain't Paddy."
The mortician thought that was rather strange and then he brought Seanin in to identify the body. Seanin took a look at him and said, "Yup he's burnt real bad, roll him over". The mortician rolled him over and Seanin looked down and said, "No, it ain't Paddy".
The mortician asked, "How can you tell?" Seanin said, "Well, Paddy had two assholes." "What, he had two assholes?" said the mortician. "Yup, everyone knew he had two assholes. Every time we went into town, folks would say, "Here comes Paddy with them two assholes...."
Thursday, March 16, 2006
wow
Technology blows my mind.
Today at 3:49pm, somebody from Zapopan, Mexico visited my site.
That's unbelievable
Today at 3:49pm, somebody from Zapopan, Mexico visited my site.
That's unbelievable
Infinite and Beyond
That's about how much time it will take me to finish my paper. I worked hard all day to try and get ready to write tonight, but alas it is 4am and all i have to show is 70 words. Not even a thesis yet. No clips chosen. Articles have been found but no idea yet on how they'll fit in.
It seems to be another one of those nights where I astound myself at the life choices that I make. I got home to find that Shane was staying over at Martina's and (trumpet sound) my wish of having the apartment empty to write my paper came true. I ordered a large pizza all for myself to eat while I wrote. Even though I know this paper is due in exactly 11 hours, my body and my mind tell me that what I have to do now is watch the end of 2001 with Pink Floyd's Echoes. Being my absolute favourite sync-up (being the key that unlocked me to Pink Floyd), I find this so relaxing. I know this paper will be late and right now, I am totally fine with that. Along with the rest of the world, my life has kicked into overdrive for the last 4 months of hell and part-time hell.
The weekend is fast approaching looming with the threat of the next paper due Tuesday, and another 10 hour shift at the LCC, following a closing shift the night before. (ouch). But boy howdy do I need the cash now. Thankfully, our Paddy's day party has been cancelled because I am now really looking forward to sleeping and playing more mario and Gran Turismo.
I'm growing up, and I don't like it anymore.
Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves in labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant tide
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine
And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the wheres or whys
But something stares and
Something tries
And starts to climb towards the light
Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can
And no one calls us to the land
And no one crosses there alive
And no one speaksAnd no one tries
And no one flies around the sun
And now this is the day you fall
Upon my waking eyes
Inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Comes streamin in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning
And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky
The selected lines are what is making my heart strain right now. How can you force yourself to do something that is painful, possibly a subtle form of self-mutilation, when there is that kind of an image in your mind. Furthermore (still in the essay mindframe, as you can see), how can I be expected to write something brilliant or at least legible when there is that kind of truth and beauty in only 19 words. Ive already written 70 and they aren't even worthy to compare.
At least I've been convinced there is a purpose in arranging words.
UNTIL 5 HOURS FROM NOW!
It seems to be another one of those nights where I astound myself at the life choices that I make. I got home to find that Shane was staying over at Martina's and (trumpet sound) my wish of having the apartment empty to write my paper came true. I ordered a large pizza all for myself to eat while I wrote. Even though I know this paper is due in exactly 11 hours, my body and my mind tell me that what I have to do now is watch the end of 2001 with Pink Floyd's Echoes. Being my absolute favourite sync-up (being the key that unlocked me to Pink Floyd), I find this so relaxing. I know this paper will be late and right now, I am totally fine with that. Along with the rest of the world, my life has kicked into overdrive for the last 4 months of hell and part-time hell.
The weekend is fast approaching looming with the threat of the next paper due Tuesday, and another 10 hour shift at the LCC, following a closing shift the night before. (ouch). But boy howdy do I need the cash now. Thankfully, our Paddy's day party has been cancelled because I am now really looking forward to sleeping and playing more mario and Gran Turismo.
I'm growing up, and I don't like it anymore.
Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves in labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant tide
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine
And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the wheres or whys
But something stares and
Something tries
And starts to climb towards the light
Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can
And no one calls us to the land
And no one crosses there alive
And no one speaksAnd no one tries
And no one flies around the sun
And now this is the day you fall
Upon my waking eyes
Inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Comes streamin in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning
And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky
The selected lines are what is making my heart strain right now. How can you force yourself to do something that is painful, possibly a subtle form of self-mutilation, when there is that kind of an image in your mind. Furthermore (still in the essay mindframe, as you can see), how can I be expected to write something brilliant or at least legible when there is that kind of truth and beauty in only 19 words. Ive already written 70 and they aren't even worthy to compare.
At least I've been convinced there is a purpose in arranging words.
UNTIL 5 HOURS FROM NOW!
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
A Complex String
Why? It's that time of the school year where I have to make sense of another essay for my American Popular Cinema class. This is the last dance with the devil. After this only a final then buh-bye. I've thoroughly screwed myself over once again by not doing work ahead of time. The culprit this time was Gran Turismo 3. I finally found a course where i can beat the crap out of Shane. It also happens to be the most complicated.
I went to the library today to take a nap then come home. It's so hard to do work for any film project since every time I search something for my project, something more interesting pops up. Today, I lost an hour of work time by reading the Simpsons, Reboot, Ren and Stimpy, Mission Hill, Undergrads and Spiderman analyses in:
A huge 2 volume work on nothing but cartoons. I only found the second half so I couldn't look up animaniacs or looney tunes or any other gems before M. But let me put it this way. It has Rocko's Modern Life in there. Every page contains a saturday morning of my life. But enough of this talk. Somehow I must compare 2001: A Space Odyssey to Independence Day on the basis of genre progression.....and somehow not be biased. At least I'm not writing about westerns. I'm thinking of just sneaking in an interpretation of the movie and tossing in some fancy words like "stock narrative situations" and "ideological tensions." And throughout this ordeal, Saturday Night Fever soundtrack shall boogie me through.
Hey, if you search "vomit" as a keyword on IMDB, The Matrix comes up as the first search result. That makes me uncomfortable.
Wang will give you Fight Club
Masturbation will give you Eternal Sunshine.
Yeah, that's all I've got.
I went to the library today to take a nap then come home. It's so hard to do work for any film project since every time I search something for my project, something more interesting pops up. Today, I lost an hour of work time by reading the Simpsons, Reboot, Ren and Stimpy, Mission Hill, Undergrads and Spiderman analyses in:
A huge 2 volume work on nothing but cartoons. I only found the second half so I couldn't look up animaniacs or looney tunes or any other gems before M. But let me put it this way. It has Rocko's Modern Life in there. Every page contains a saturday morning of my life. But enough of this talk. Somehow I must compare 2001: A Space Odyssey to Independence Day on the basis of genre progression.....and somehow not be biased. At least I'm not writing about westerns. I'm thinking of just sneaking in an interpretation of the movie and tossing in some fancy words like "stock narrative situations" and "ideological tensions." And throughout this ordeal, Saturday Night Fever soundtrack shall boogie me through.
Hey, if you search "vomit" as a keyword on IMDB, The Matrix comes up as the first search result. That makes me uncomfortable.
Wang will give you Fight Club
Masturbation will give you Eternal Sunshine.
Yeah, that's all I've got.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
My latest Projects
Think I've posted enough lately!?!
If you add up all of the essays I through on Matricized, I could break for another 6 months. Anyhoo, the new place and all this free time has given me the chance to get started on some personal projects. There are about a billion floating around right now, some of them as plain as "Put up curtains," or "Alphabatize Vinyl." The two that I am most excited to jump on now are:
1. To beat Super Mario for NES within 20 minutes. From level 1-1 to 8-4. I will of course be taking the warp from 1-2 to 4 then from 4-2 to 5, but then I will play through from 5-1 to the end. I've been videotaping my games in the event I pull it off and can brag all I want. It's been a rough start as of playing too much Revenge of the Sith lately, and my break from the NES controller and buttons. I finally figured out the path to take in 7-4 tonight, and I'm dying there WELL under the 15 minute mark. Once I beat it, I'm going to make a Certificate saying "On this date Stephen Massey beat Super Mario in a time of _____." THEN FRAME THAT FUCKER FOR ALL TO SEE!
2. The other video game project I have is to take multiple fights from Revenge the Sith between Darth and various characters and construct it into a movie as an alternate ending to Sith. I'm definetely going to leave in the PLAYER 1 WINS and will choose key arenas for the plot. I haven't decided whether to fill the fight scenes with clips from the movie, hokey stop animation or me holding my Darth action figure, or if I should try to do some classy voice over narration to stills and photos. Either or, the filler is going to be crap compared to the fighting. I mean A) the graphics are unbelievable and B) my skills are so good, you will be dazzled.
Lucas will hire me post haste.
If you add up all of the essays I through on Matricized, I could break for another 6 months. Anyhoo, the new place and all this free time has given me the chance to get started on some personal projects. There are about a billion floating around right now, some of them as plain as "Put up curtains," or "Alphabatize Vinyl." The two that I am most excited to jump on now are:
1. To beat Super Mario for NES within 20 minutes. From level 1-1 to 8-4. I will of course be taking the warp from 1-2 to 4 then from 4-2 to 5, but then I will play through from 5-1 to the end. I've been videotaping my games in the event I pull it off and can brag all I want. It's been a rough start as of playing too much Revenge of the Sith lately, and my break from the NES controller and buttons. I finally figured out the path to take in 7-4 tonight, and I'm dying there WELL under the 15 minute mark. Once I beat it, I'm going to make a Certificate saying "On this date Stephen Massey beat Super Mario in a time of _____." THEN FRAME THAT FUCKER FOR ALL TO SEE!
2. The other video game project I have is to take multiple fights from Revenge the Sith between Darth and various characters and construct it into a movie as an alternate ending to Sith. I'm definetely going to leave in the PLAYER 1 WINS and will choose key arenas for the plot. I haven't decided whether to fill the fight scenes with clips from the movie, hokey stop animation or me holding my Darth action figure, or if I should try to do some classy voice over narration to stills and photos. Either or, the filler is going to be crap compared to the fighting. I mean A) the graphics are unbelievable and B) my skills are so good, you will be dazzled.
Lucas will hire me post haste.
Recent Updates
I've added a link to the "Might as Well...." for Matricized, my "portfolio" i suppose. I started it a year or two ago, in the hopes of constantly updating but no. It contains most of the essays that I have written for school dating back to grade 12.5. Not only can you see my progression as a writer but all of my film essays are now up to see, if you are so interested. While they're not all gems, there are some I am quite proud of. Well only one part of one comes to mind. My analysis of the diner scene in Five Easy Pieces. I felt fuckin happy after i noticed the alteration in the shot/reverse shot between jack and the waitress. So if you're REALLY bored. i mean really. they're there.
Growth
Man oh man. What a day.
Woke up to a cute lady.
Fell back asleep.
Woke up to let a cute lady back into her house.
I got to see my nephew Matt again tonight which is always a highlight since I rarely ever see the dude. I use the word dude with the utmost accuracy. It's always been weird being the "Cool Uncle" when your nephews tend to be way cooler. IE - watertowers. Ever since I was conscious of the fact that I had nephews and they thought of me as their uncle, I've always tried to be "cool" and "role modelly." I tried to pass off as much wisdom as I could during my yearly, weeklong visit, then just hide out til the next major, gift exhanging holiday. Thanks to the advent of Guelph, I can physically see Matt, and with the webcam I've been able to see Eric. Danny I never get to talk to that much anymore but he's at that age right now where I feel that it's best to leave him alone and let him sort out his persona.
They've always shocked me with their level of experience and tales of adventure. I remember feeling so awkward when my nephew asked me for girl advice when he had gone way farther (IE anywhere) with more girls than me (0). When they started hitting the experimental ages, I felt even more awkward as I wasn't sure if I should divulge my sordid past. I'll leave that at a blank here, but if you ever want a good story, just ask me. No thankfully the two older ones have reached that level of physical presence, where they know that they're an individual, a human being, someone who exists in the world and can affect that world with their actions. They're lives are leaving childhood and they're just starting to leap the hurdles. While the hurdles cause us all problems, I'm finally happy about my position as uncle.
Now I don't just have to be "Uncle Steve, the guy who will kick the shit out of you in Goldeneye or any other Nintendo incarnation." (Not that I didn't love that.) Now I can actually start to help them, and tell them the ways to go. Eric and Matt are starting to pass through life moments and changes that I've walked through. I've made some good decisions and can advise them so, but the real excitement is that I prevent them making the same bad choices I did. I'm no longer 12. I've seen pain. I've been through hell. At this point in my life I'm happy. Somehow I've kicked the depression and it's been the biggest step I've ever made. I'm independent, living on my own. School is well, school. I won't say that I'm doing the best that I could hope for, but I haven't felt ashamed of my performance this year and for once...I'm truly excited. I'm at the complete opposite of the spectrum, one year later. Things are going great, and constantly better.
If any of them ever need help or a place to run, I'll be here. I'll finally be able to point one of them in the right direction. I hope they never feel afraid to run here, but I hope they'll never have to. Unless of course, they feel the need for a Goldeneye ass-kicking.
Woke up to a cute lady.
Fell back asleep.
Woke up to let a cute lady back into her house.
I got to see my nephew Matt again tonight which is always a highlight since I rarely ever see the dude. I use the word dude with the utmost accuracy. It's always been weird being the "Cool Uncle" when your nephews tend to be way cooler. IE - watertowers. Ever since I was conscious of the fact that I had nephews and they thought of me as their uncle, I've always tried to be "cool" and "role modelly." I tried to pass off as much wisdom as I could during my yearly, weeklong visit, then just hide out til the next major, gift exhanging holiday. Thanks to the advent of Guelph, I can physically see Matt, and with the webcam I've been able to see Eric. Danny I never get to talk to that much anymore but he's at that age right now where I feel that it's best to leave him alone and let him sort out his persona.
They've always shocked me with their level of experience and tales of adventure. I remember feeling so awkward when my nephew asked me for girl advice when he had gone way farther (IE anywhere) with more girls than me (0). When they started hitting the experimental ages, I felt even more awkward as I wasn't sure if I should divulge my sordid past. I'll leave that at a blank here, but if you ever want a good story, just ask me. No thankfully the two older ones have reached that level of physical presence, where they know that they're an individual, a human being, someone who exists in the world and can affect that world with their actions. They're lives are leaving childhood and they're just starting to leap the hurdles. While the hurdles cause us all problems, I'm finally happy about my position as uncle.
Now I don't just have to be "Uncle Steve, the guy who will kick the shit out of you in Goldeneye or any other Nintendo incarnation." (Not that I didn't love that.) Now I can actually start to help them, and tell them the ways to go. Eric and Matt are starting to pass through life moments and changes that I've walked through. I've made some good decisions and can advise them so, but the real excitement is that I prevent them making the same bad choices I did. I'm no longer 12. I've seen pain. I've been through hell. At this point in my life I'm happy. Somehow I've kicked the depression and it's been the biggest step I've ever made. I'm independent, living on my own. School is well, school. I won't say that I'm doing the best that I could hope for, but I haven't felt ashamed of my performance this year and for once...I'm truly excited. I'm at the complete opposite of the spectrum, one year later. Things are going great, and constantly better.
If any of them ever need help or a place to run, I'll be here. I'll finally be able to point one of them in the right direction. I hope they never feel afraid to run here, but I hope they'll never have to. Unless of course, they feel the need for a Goldeneye ass-kicking.