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Saturday, April 24, 2004


Doin' my taxes. 

I've just finished counting up my earnings and my expenses for the tax man. I made close to $6500. spent $2000 of it on my sweet ass computer, but I'm left wondering where the fuck the rest of it went.

Sorry for the foray into the forbidden realm, but jees. I was trying to make a point with that. I'm not a math person either, otherwise I probably wouldn't be failing that course. The point I was trying to make was that math probably could be quite easy for the majority of people, if the people who taught it didn't insist on being such fucking freaks and purists about it. And in response to your question, Leo, I'd be quite happy to have my horizons expanded a little. I've sadly neglected to take any film/skateboarding courses this semester.

In case I haven't mentioned it before, the engineers here at UofT are retarded. Sadly, we in Comp Sci have to share a building with the douchebags. And so we have to put up with their marching band, their hard hats, and the rest of their stupid traditions (like their insistence on using 0T4, 0T5, 0T6 to mean 2004, 2005, 2006 even though it doesn't make sense). They also routinely steal furniture from the Comp Sci undergraduate lounge. This time, though, they crossed the line - they decided to slash bike tires out on St. George Street. How do we know it was them? Because they chalked "SKULE 0T4" on the sidewalk (SKULE is the dumbassed name they have for the Engineering Society). Needless to say, there will be retalliation. And when it comes, it will be hard and fast.

It's 7:30, I need to start drinking.


Not a Math/Science Blog 

Part of the reason for coming to 'Ape for me was that the last blog, amongst numerous other, greater problems, had also become a forum for discussion of math and physics problems and speculations. How would you like it if I came here and started talking about f-stops, focal length, depth of field or composition? Or trucks, wheels, grip tape and decks for that matter?


I'm home for a rest 

Yesterday was very hectic. After riding home from Neil's at about 4:30 I slept. I had planned to wake up at 8:30 so I could get my shit packed before my dad arrived, he was supposed to arrive around 10am. At 8:30 my alarm went off but I hit the SLEEP button. At about 11 Jenn opened my door and jabbed me in the face til I woke up. We both thought I was supposed to sign out at 12 which would mean getting all my stuff out of my room in under an hour. To make matters worse there was no sign of my dad.

Upon double checking the timetable for signouts I realized I wasn't actually scheduled to signout until 2pm, that was a relief. At noon my dad showed up and found my room in a state of complete disarray, like a bomb had gone off.

With the help of Heather and Jenn we just through all my crap into big garbage bags and packed them into the van. Dad forgot the bike rack so my bike had to be tied to the roof. Before I left Heather gave me the trucker hat she bought at Value Village for her Halloween costume, I got it becuase it was from Meyers Transport. I gave her a deck of Cleveland Indians baseball cards, for some reason she's a fan.

Anyway now that I've arrived summer has officially begun, there are stunts to pull and booze to consume and playoff hockey to watch (that willl go well into june). Let the good times roll.

Friday, April 23, 2004


The power of suggestion and other mysteries of life (like why are math people so fucking incomprehensible) 

In typical disorganized me-fashion, I think I shall address the last point first. Why are math {students, teachers, professors, -ematicians} generally such douches that they can't give a simple goddamn answer to a simple goddamn question, and teach things in a reasonable manner that people can understand? Are they perhaps deficient in the component of the brain that has to do with making some fucking sense every now and then?

Case in point: one of the hardest-hitting parts of my advanced calculus course has been proving that a given limit is what they tell you it is. so if

lim
x → 2
x3=8

then you're supposed to prove that this is true, given the definition of a limit (here it comes, brace yourselves):

For every ε greater than 0, there exists a δ > 0, such that 0 < |x - a| < δ → |f(x) - L| < ε


where a is the number that x is approaching, and L is the limit. The two Greek thingies (epsilon and delta) are the hard part. Because they're Greek. You're proving for any epsilon, the trick is finding the delta. How do you find the delta value? According to my prof, you guess.

According to my friend in fourth year Comp Sci, you divide epsilon by the f'(x), or the slope of the function at the given point. And, yeah, it works. Why didn't those fuckers in the math department tell me this 6 months ago? Why indeed!

Anyway, as for the power of suggestion, I walked into a Second Cup with apple cider on the mind. I saw a big sign that said "MAPLE" advertising their maple syrup lattés and whatnot. I walk up to the cashier and the following conversation ensues:

Dave: "Hi, I'd like an extra large maple syrup."
Random Coffee Guy: "... latté?"
Dave: "No, just a maple syrup."
Random Coffee Guy: "You want what?"
Dave: "Ugh, JUST a MAPLE-- Oh. Uh. An apple cider please."

The funniest part was when the guy went to get it, he said "Can you ring that up?" and the girl at the cash said "Yeah, just an extra large maple syrup?" It's like a fucking plague or something.


The Price of Prosperity *click-clack* *BOOM!* 

So, having completed the same exam as Ben, I'm left with one more. It's on a Sunday. In an Ice Arena. It's about The Unabomber.

Just reading about people getting drunk is enough to get me all riled up and ready for stunts. It's been pretty heavy schoolwork for a while. Anyways, I have like, four important things to do now. So it's off for now. I realized that so far I haven't made a single drunken post on this blog ever. I guess that's what the next two weeks are for. And rollerblading. Shyeah.

Who would win - Neil with a boot knife or WhiteBox with his fists?


Exams and all that jazz 

Highschool has been getting worse and worse. I need to get out. Now I have all these goddamn assignments. I wasn't meant to be a student. I should go and live on a mountain, using deprivation and extremely inhospititable environs to achieve wisdom and serenity. I'll eat the offerings of those students who make the trip seeking my advice. I'll probably end up with a diet consisting solely of rice, but at least I'll be doing something constructive with my time. As for now, my exams are coming up, so no play time for me. I hate visual presentations. I hate mindmaps and collages and all that other stupid crap, and now I have to do five presentations along those lines. Why couldn't they just force-feed me acid and put me on the honour roll? It amounts to the same bloody thing.

Okay, Neil, if you are going to play around with a goddamn knife while you are drunk you should just stab yourself now and get it over with. Then I can laugh at you, you can get your goddamn stitches, and make up a really impressive story to tell at parties. At least if you're sober you'll be less likely to kill yourself. Maybe.


eight a.m. 

Exam soon. Just woke up. Except I didn't. I was in bed but fucked if I was sleeping. It was like, this weird half-rest state? Fuck I don't know but it sucked as I am really tired.

I better do good on this.


A Buncha Stuff 

I was watchinf TV earlier today when I saw a Nissan ad. For some reason, I was paying very close attention and when the end came and a bunch of words flickered by next to the logo, I was able to make out the word "conformity" twice. Nobody believed me, but later that day another Nissan ad came, and my roomate saw the word "conformity too! Clearly, Nissan is trying some kind of subliminal ad mind-wipe! Scary stuff indeed, folks.

Why I up at this hour? Me an' others were busy prank-calling infomercials. Fun stuff, to be sure.

Newest character I came up with? A homeless robot made of junk. More later...Ï

Thursday, April 22, 2004


Tomfoolery: Drunken and otherwise 

So I went to bed at 10:30. A.M.

I wasn't intending to do that. Yesterday (Actually two days ago if we're being technical) I thought I'd have a relatively normal bedtime. I was hanging out with a group of engineers where I'm the token artsci (I'm the 'nonthreatening person of liberal arts' who can still speak in math). Then we decided to watch both the Bill and Ted movies. In the middle of these events there were 2 fire alarms, bringing the total we've had this year to almost 25. Now after the firetrucks had left, showing that there was no fire, they still wouldn't let us back in. I asked why this was and this girl started spazzing at me: "Don't be angry [sic] at them, they're just doing their jobs. I have an exam in 5 hours too!" So, naturally I made fun of her until she walked away. "Angry? Oh no, when I'm angry I start spinning around and do a little ninja dance [acts out ninja dance]. Then I turn green and break things. You know The Hulk? That's a fucking documentary on my life." But it was innocent mocking, note how I didn't bring up the fact that I was done exams and so unlike her I could sleep in.

Anyway once we'd finnished the movies, there was the second fire alarm and so we decided to just go back to Ann's room (because we were already outside) and stayed their for 2 hours. So by now it was 7:00 and we just waited for breakfast. After that I was thinking of going to sleep, but then we decided to play tennis. So we rented some rackets from a profoundly unhelpful person and went to play. Now, having never played tennis before and playing with people who weren't very tennis-abled, the game was very interesting. It spread over many bounces and two courts and involved lots of running. By the time it ended I just went back and lay on my bed and slept. But then I had to get up (round 3:30ish) to try and return my fridge. I having lost the form had no idea where to return it. So, I'm wandering outside carrying a fridge and finally find the truck, where they ask for the form. But I managed to weasel my way out of that.

Then I showered (that'll be one good thing about being home, our showers kind of suck) which woke me up a little and helped cleanse me (as I'd been wearing the same clothes 30 hours and I'd slept in them for 5 of those) and headed off to see Kill Bill 2 with my econ group. I'd briefly dated (if you can call it that) one of the members of the groups which began with a little drunken tomfoolery on halloween. It wasn't even interesting tomfoolery, as one of her girlfriends followed us home shrieking "Don't have sex!" over and over again. But I digress. We had sushi before as a tribute to the Japanese influence on the movie. My avocodo maki had been dusted with fish eggs, so I spent a bit of time removing them. Considering that I had 2 orders and they had these huge boxes, the egg-picking subtracted significantly from me having eaten everything and starring hungrily at their food. The movie itself was good. I happened to like the first one better. I don't know if I want to see Vol 2 again, but my friends in TO want to see it.

Plus, yesterday (2 days ago) we got our floor cd. 640 pictures (and a short movie, not to be confused with our hour long floor movie) of our floor. It was surprising how many of the pictures of me were that of me being, quite frankly, a damn drunken fool. I got an early preview of the pictures to find the one that now accompanies all of my posts, but this new cd has pictures of our "Boozapalooza" event. There's drunken fool Jacob, vacuming Jacob and my personal favourite- Jacob lying (passed out?) on the floor with someone hitting him with a skateboard. I should find some way of posting them, they're funny.


Movie 

Well, I'm doing an end-of-the-year video for my videography class. I originally wanted to have a feature-length interrogation film, but at this point even I have to admit it's impractical. Anyway, we're only allowed to have 20 minutes. So now we're doing a documentary focussing on the maturity of highschoolers. Chances are we're going to end up with a shitty movie kind of like Jackass. My brain is going to disolve before the year is out. My school has a new schedule with five periods a day, so now all my periods are long enough to drag but not long enough for me to get any meaningful work done. Why couldn't they have just kicked me in the balls?

On the upside, at least my new computer is great. It can hold every game I own without using up a significant fraction of the available space, and it loads like beautiful. Think I'mma pop The Big Idea in and avoid doing my homework.

Neil, I would also tell you to buy the knife, but I keep seeing you getting all excited and cutting yourself with it. Try not to get your DNA all over the place, especially if you're going to commit crimes with that knife.


Sam, okay. 

I have a few ideas for comics of about a 12 panel length that I was originally gonna do on one sheet of paper folded up and have at the beguiling for like, a nickel, but if you're going ahead with this now I'll write them after school's out. Sort of a Roy-ish thing, I guess. Also I've been trnya cultivate ideas for 3-4 panel strips for next year. I've got a couple strips in mind but I'm not sure if I want to do a "same characters every time" thing or "new characters every time" thing. Anyways, I can't help but wonder how I've been re-drawn. I came up with the original me. I think if you re-cartoon me, Sam, I should totally have my hat.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004


Back in the Saddle Again 

I saw the movie "Crumb" today, a biography of comics legend and known pervert R. Crumb. Since that time, I have been compulsively drawing. I spent an hour looking for a pencil but I settled for a pen. First, I've cemented my new, cartoony style by first re-drawing several characters from "MT" to my new style (Leo, Neil an' Meyers) and then with free-drawing. During this free-drawing, I came up with several new characters, two of which show good potential.: An emaciated, cycloptic alien with a large brain, and some form of man-panda hybrid (Manda) dressed in dapper vaudville attire. Im thinking of maybe throwing these together in an Eightball-style black and white xeroxed comic/zine in hope that The Beguiling will take it. If I do this, I could always use contributing writers...

(Leo, I'm looking in your direction)


GOING APE 

FUCK JUST BUY IT DICK

I kind of also want that Warmaster book but I must resist.......


hee hee hee! 

shirin here using ben's computer... I hope this is his comfort and security laziness that lets me post as him, cause then he'll think twice about being so carefree and whimsical.

yes ben, that's right. I "hacked" you, with little or no effort. Let this be a lesson to you.

(errr and if this didn't work.. then um.. so yeah! exam went well. professor put a screwy diagram in there that I mistook for an alien.. y'know.. a teletubbie.. or whatever. funny, I think I got the labels right though.)


Taglines 

In my work as a film student, I have encountered the "tagline". The tagline, it seems, is largely an American convention for posters. Here are some old taglines. Some great, some awful.

"The Violence-Screen's All-Time Rocker-Shocker!" - The Big Sleep
"A story as explosive as his blazing automatics!" - The Maltese Falcon
"With a piece in his hand, he takes on the man" - The Harder They Come
"Alfred Hitchcock engulfs you in a whirlpool of terror and tension!" - Vertigo
"It's Terriffic!" - Citizen Kane

These seemed way funnier last night.


Senti-MENTAL 

Zing!

I don't feel it. I mean, it super-sucks that this year's already over but university marches on! In a couple months we'll be moving back and drinking at 4 in the morning again. I'm not worried that I won't see people again, not at all. In fact, I know everyone's coming back, I have contact info, all of that. I won't lose contact, and it's only a short break anyway. And with any luck/no luck (because it would mean no Killbear) then I'll be seeing them on occasion anyway. So yeah, it's not a humongous deal. I was never one of those freak-out-I'll-never-see-you-again people.

I have so much punk music now it makes my liver hurt like too much beer.


Choke on THIS, Sentimentality! 

Wow. Lotsa people gettin' choked up about movin' back. How wonderfully touching.

HA HA HA!

I seem to have taken an opposing stance to many of the pople here. I cannot wait until I'm outta this concrete nightmare. I came to university too early, and I've been paying for that mistake with a hell of alot of anxiety. I say, bring on the summer! I've got too many ideas to be wasting my time studying for some exam for a course that won't even get me a job. Writing degree? What is that? Its garbage. Expensive garbage. Lord knows I ain't mature enough to be in a university.

Anyways, as might be a little apparent, I''m a wee bit manic at the moment. I attribute it to having nothing to eat but coffee for 18 hrs. Wait, that's not true, I also had a cookie. Anyway s, I'm on a bit of a creative spike now, so I want to capitalize on it. I've got comics to draw, maybe I was gonna build a sculpture, I might want too see if there are any entry-level acting things what I could do, and maybe I could teach myself how to play the guitar.

Yessir, this'll be an interesting summer...

P.S. You're all forgiven for stopping me from changing my icon, though I still think it's a good idea.


Who can embarrass a man!? 

I was totally about to do a sappy post. I just helped a friend move out. I was totally all gonna go all about the experiences and the memories and then I saw that Atly had beaten me to it. Then Dave talking about his year. Shit, I can't touch this. I mean, I would never take Atly on in a sentementality competition, that would be suicide. So, in lieu of a post about the friends I've made, times I've had and ways I've grown, I offer this excerpt from Can-i-bus.

Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?
Who can embarrass a man,
Bite you with fangs and mangle your hands,
On Candid Cam?
The Canibus can!


Res is res is res. 

Don't you get all down on us bein' in the T.Dot, At. We're in res too, and that means that by and large all the people we know are goin' away for the summer too. I have a bunch of peeps headin' to the west coast, some to the States, others to as varied locales as Wawa, St. John's, Ottawa, and fucking Dubai for chrissakes. So watch that shit.

In other news, done th' Film Art exam, just Production to go, which I'm assured will be simple. I hope it shall be. I had probably better read all the readings I never did ie. all of them. Yeah, later.

I smoked a Hookah last night, it was cool and tasted like licorice and then mint. I totally have to get one of these, but they're stupid expensive here, apparently. A fairly shitty one supposedly costs like $75 bucks, when in Syria you can get a quality one for about $3. Yeah, three. So we're seeing about acquiring an authentic one for the house next year.

Also I realized that I knew that guy who was in Serial Joe. Huh.


Ouch. 

Cognitive Science exam was hellish and stupid. I don't know how I did, but suffice it to say I left after a little over an hour had passed (two hour exam, for some reason not the usual three hours).

That is hardly an excuse for drinking Bud, Ashley. I'm shocked. Shocked and appalled. I'd sooner drink rubbing alcohol. Alas, what's done is done. Just make sure you make appropriate penance to the necessary deities.

This just in: don't use a laptop in the bathtub. Also, attempting to sell an 8 year old on eBay isn't such a smart move either.


Reflections on drunkenness from a (surprisingly) sober me 

Atly, good for you. It sounds like you had a grand old time tonight, and got Rhode-Island-drunk in the process. And spelling mistakes, run-on sentences, sappy sentimental hoo-ha are not the things for which you should be begging forgiveness. Rather, you should be praying/sacrificing to the alcohol gods whom you have deeply offended and angered by drinking Budweiser. You should really get on that, or they will smite you, somehow. Perhaps drowning you in piss would be appropriate. Not that I'm telling the lords of the booze how to do their jobs, or anything.

I understand your sentiment, somewhat. Having been on slightly less close quarters with a gang I've come to call my comrades (most of them third and fourth year students), I've had to deal with some fear of imminent withdrawal. Some of them are going on U of T's co-op thing, the Professional Experience Year, which means they go and work for 12 to 18 months. This is all well and good, except that one very good friend of mine is going all the way to Northern California for her placement. Many of the people with whom I've hauled ass to European Meats day after day are bidding U of T farewell, graduating this year. I feel as though maybe I should've gotten to know more first-year students in my program, but they're all so antisocial and downright boring. Actually, I take that back. It's just that most of them are far less mature than say, a 3rd or 4th year student, and while I dare not say that I'm several years ahead of myself in maturity, it appeals to me. I've always been drawn to slightly older people, either because I'm more secure myself or because they just tend to be more interesting.

It's funny, when I first hit university, I figured I'd have the same characteristic trouble that I'd had infiltrating the social scene that I did in my high school. And yet, I've gone from zero to hero in two semesters - I've got about ten dozen names floating in my head, many more whom I know by face, at least a dozen or two that I'd say are my friends in one capacity or another. This leads me to draw two conclusions: a) my high school was a steaming heap of bullshit filled with absolute wankers (but that's another rant entirely), b) for some reason, I'm especially comfortable where I am - comfortable enough to hang out with 3rd and 4th year Comp Sci students like it was no big deal, until finally it really was no big deal. Though not a believer in predetermined destiny, fate or any such nonsense, it seems as though I belong at DCS/UofT. Strange.

I realized somewhere along the line today (actually at about 9:30pm) that three quarters of my Cognitive Science exam was on stuff after the last test, i.e. stuff that I hadn't even looked at yet. I got through most of the Cognitive Neuroscience unit and skimmed over the Anthropology stuff, and with not a single breath of cognitive flavour left in me, I stumbled back to this here blog. Aren't I precious?

Exam in 5 hours. Let's see if I can't get a little bit of sleep.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004


Didja See It? Didja See It? 

I know that I say this all the time, but God, am I glad I'm not from Ottawa. Tonight, the Ottawa river will flood with tears, much to the delioght of Torontonians everywhere. All this, plus I beat Meyers to the "Leafs Won" posting (I hope). What a day!

In other news, I'd like to offer myheartfelt thanks to those of you who voted against my picture change. Your unwanted meddling has needlessly complicated what ought to be MY choice. Hats off to you, jackholes!


King Missile Redux: adds 76 minutes to the original cut. 

Jesus was way cool
Everybody liked Jesus
Everybody wanted to hang out with him
Anything he wanted to do, he did
He turned water into wine
And if he wanted to
He could have turned wheat into marijuana
Or sugar into cocaine
Or vitamin pills into amphetamines

He walked on the water
And swam on the land
He would tell these stories
And people would listen
He was really cool

If you were blind or lame
You just went to Jesus
And he would put his hands on you
And you would be healed
That's so cool

He could've played guitar better than Hendrix
He could've told the future
He could've baked the most delicious cake in the world
He could've scored more goals than Wayne Gretzky
He could've danced better than Barishnikov
Jesus could have been funnier than any comedian you can think of
Jesus was way cool

He told people to eat his body and drink his blood
That's so cool
Jesus was so cool
But then some people got jealous of how cool he was
So they killed him
But then he rose from the dead
He rose from the dead, danced around
Then went up to heaven
I mean, that's so cool
Jesus was way cool

No wonder there are so many Christians


A comprehensive and exhaustive discussion of the sexual orientation of actions one may be party to within the course of one's life. 

AKA "Gay-Not Gay" by King Missile.

I saw an episode of The Jerry Springer Show, and the topic was "Transvestites and the Men Who Love Them." And the guy was on with his "girlfriend," and he was saying, "To me, this is a beautiful woman. She's got a perfect body, beautiful blonde hair, everything. I love her, and I love making love to her. Now I ask you, does that make me gay?" Most of the audience thought so, and so did I. But it got me thinking about what is and isn't gay.

Discussing sex with a guy is gay. Discussing sex with a women is straight. Even telling a woman "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to suck a cock," is straight.

Sports are gay, especially contact sports, unless you're the only guy on both teams, in which case it's straight.

Gyms are always gay, because afterwards, in the locker room, you're showering with guys, and that is gay.

Watching pornography alone is neutral, like eating a sandwich. It is neither straight nor gay. Watching pornos with one or more other guys in the room, no matter how many other women are also in the room, is gay. Watching porn, even gay porn, with one or more other women only is straight.

Here's an interesting one: Kissing a gay guy on the cheek, or letting him kiss you on the cheek is neutral, as long as the guy is out of the closet. Hugging and/or kissing a straight guy is gay.

See, look, I know I'm homophobic, but not about gay guys. They don't bother me at all. It's straight guys who don't know they're gay. They fuck my shit right up.

Like a guy calls me up and says, "A bunch of us guys are gonna sit around in our underwear and watch the football game and drink beer and eat chips and, you know, maybe wrestle with each other, just us guys. You wanna come over?" And I'm like, "No."

Okay, you got a guy sucking your dick, even if he's dressed like a beautiful woman, even if he's got the best breast implants you've ever seen, even if you're saying to him "Suck it, bitch, I know you like it, you slut, you whore!", that's gay.

Conversely, if a woman straps on a dildo, and you're dressed like a woman, and you're sucking her cock, and she's saying, "You like it, don't you? You like sucking my dick you little fucking faggot," and then she rolls you over and fucks you in the ass and says "You love it you little pussy boy! You love getting fucked in the ass. I'll bet you wish I was a man! I'll bet you wish this was a real cock, you fucking faggot!" and you're getting off on this like you've never gotten off before, that's still straight.

But then, if you go off to the bar, and discuss this, or any other sexual experience with guys, that's gay.

Here's the most interesting one. Sucking a guy's cock can, under certain rare circumstances, be sraight. Let's say you've gotten into a betting game with a woman, and the bet is that whoever loses has to be the other's sex slave for an entire night... you know, the kind of stuff that happens in Penthouse Forum all the time. And you lose, and the woman makes you have sex with another guy. That's not gay. I don't know exactly why, but it isn't.


A Compulsion. 

God forbid this should become like a hardcore blog where people actually post everything that they do, but I am happy with the level of activity here and I always want to post myself.

I got a call at 11:00am from the place I want to work this summer. It woke me up but I had to pretend like it didn't. Even if I made no sense and sounded groggy, I was certainly quite polite!
Girl: This is Killbear Provincial Park, we're calling for Leo.
Me: Hello? Yes. Thank you.
Anyhow, I've been promised a phone interview in the next two weeks.

My roomie packed up, leaving me with a double room to myself for the next week. Finally, I can enjoy my gum. Seriously, I should start cleaning up. And going back to the studyin'. I have an exam at 8:30am tomoro. You just have to not flinch on these things. Act like it's no biggie that it's that early.


Sleep. Natural, restful sleep. 

I'd almost forgotten what it was like. It's become a rare commodity. And I got some last night.

Sleep that is. 16 hours of it.

Only to be brought to an ugly end by my job! Argh! They wanted me to throw together a PDF document advertising them. I'm a web developer. That's not my area of expertise. However, I produced (God bless Safari's "Save As PDF" thingy). Only problem is, they're apparently going to be sending this out on some mailing list. That thing is damned near 600kb. The recipients are going to be kind of pissed off when it takes them 20 minutes to download their e-mail. There's probably some way to compress a PDF, but, I don't care.

So, after slaving at the computer terminal for a while, I realized I smelled awful and took a shower, and headed down to the ol' and trusty Yew of Tea, where I am sitting now. Had Ken Ho's Chinese food for a late breakfast - mm mm good. The lady (perhaps Ken's wife? I don't know) doesn't even ask me what condiments (soya sauce, chili sauce and plum sauce) I want any more - she already knows. This is either an indication that I have a very distinctive face/order, or that I eat there way too often.

Yeah. The "gum" thing was pretty dumb. I believe it was "Gum Instead of Sex", which is still pretty dumb. I'm casting a "No" on the pencil picture thing as well. Because, y'know. ... ...

I should be studying for Cognitive Science. So that's what I'll do. After I pay the pop machine a visit. And a dollar.


Columbine 

Slate magazine has a fascinating article on the Columbine shootings. Basically it demolishes many of the myths about Columbine like that they targeted jocks (they didn't), they were part of a group called the Trenchcoat Mafia (they weren't), they were social outcasts (they weren't) and that they liked Marilyn Manson (they were techno fans).

Basically the storyline that they were a bunch of picked-upon pariahs who snapped is completely wrong. Rather, they just wanted to cause "the most deaths in U.S. history" to terrorize the whole nation. Ironically, they'd have hated the press they did get treating it as another school shooting and them as depressed losers.


Made-Up 

Like Kristy is.
There? I'm determined to WIN.


Any Arena 

I travelled to the world famous ice gardens tonight and saw the world famous rap_ tunnels. Pretty awesome adventuring. As for the Sam pic I'm voting no. Sorry, Sam but this would open up a world of us using our MT characters for pictures and I Ain't Havin' That. Furthermore, not to criticize the drawing altogether, (I do consider you a better cartoonist than me) he looks a little too beastly and in real life there's no space between the back of your ear and your hair. I say photos, photos, photos. Additionally, how will outsiders know you're not made up? They see a room full of human beings and one cartoon? I'd assume you were made-up. Like Kristy is. First attempt at a link.


I'm going to put it to a vote. 

Sam wants me to put up a new picture of him. I'd be happy to oblige and everything, except... well, take a look. I think it's pretty good, but it's not recognizable unless you know him. And is that what we want?

Here is it:



In other news, my armpits smell awesome. Also, I smoked a hookah. I did not kill a prostitute.

I saw the house today. It's wicked-fucking-awesome. My mum is sort of reserved about it all, but jesus, I'm not letting this pass me by. I am getting my own fucking house, goddammit, and I'm doing it now. We'll have it over the summer, so we totally have to have a party before the summer is out, to christen the place.

Also, my armpits smell awesome.

Monday, April 19, 2004


Hov Some Keyke Nyah Gurl- 

But if they don't show up to have the cake, the whole thing fails, doesn't it? As for all this boo-hooing over the singleness many of us seem to suffer, I say this is altogether the wrong time for it. One boo-hoos these things mid school year if one must and purges the schlubbish emotions from oneself. The end of the school year is not a time to say "look how poorly I've done in first year (dating wise)" but to say "think of how well I can do this summer time". Always towards the future. I'd consider myself an optimist if my aim wasn't to ruin the future. But yes, I'm optimistic I can ruin the future for my own benefit.
As for Sam's sea shanty, I loved it. I can honestly say I enjoyed every line. That said, I now feel the need to point out how stupid your "gum instead of dating" solution is. Dating? Gum? These things are not even close. Besides, to quote Red Foreman, "only quitters quit."


I've been here since 6 

And I got fucking cake. Why didn't you come back here? Anyways we can do th' KBv2 Saturdaym if you prefer. It's not like I have anything fo' sho' to do.

Back to the business:

I can't remember anything I wrote on the exam I did one hour ago. Is that bad?

Now I have to do my fucking film art... I don't have a lot of time to waste, I really ought to get on it. But for fuck's sake, I just finished an exam. And I still have one to go after that. Yar.

Look at all this cake. And no Shirin to eat it, celebrating the demise of FACS class.

Well, looks like I'm just gonna have to hunker down and eat it all.


Causality, Correlation and Classics 

So Matt, is there a correlation between the type of girls you're attracted to and that particular sexual orrientation or is there a causal relationship between you asking girls out and them becoming lesbians. :)

I finished my last exam today, Classics. All multiple choice, but they busted out the i-iv statements, followed by multiple choice giving pairs of answers. Obviously it hadn't been proofread, though. They had answers like "c. i ii ii". So do they mean i and ii? Or i, ii and iii? It's even possible one of those 'i's' should've been a 'v'. It was still *knock wood* a pretty easy exam, but that sort of sloppiness annoys me as a matter of principle. Were I (more accurately: when I) make similar mistakes I'm penalized. Yet when they make such mistakes, I'm penalized via getting the wrong answer for their mistake or through time wasted trying to decipher their meanings (the last one didn't really hold because I finished the exam in under 20 minutes).

But more importantly, School's Out! Yey!


Goin' Ape With Mikhail Gorbachev 

My exam went reasonably well. I was hung over and working on two hours of sleep, so if I got even a 70 I'll be impressed with myself.

Once I got the exam over with, I should've gone home to sleep, but instead I goot some Chinese food and played Street Fighter 2 in the CSSU. We beat the game with Zangief and got to see Zangief dance with - yes - former president of the USSR, Mikhail Gorbachev! We finally have a reasonably sized colour TV, as opposed to the 10 inch black and white poor excuse for a television that was there when I last was. Now we have this giant, wood finished, hulking beast of an RCA Radiation King. It even has a fake drawer.

I really think I should go home and get some sleep. My vision is starting to blur. Sam, you should be a minstrel. Or something.


New Computer, and stuff. 

Got a new computer. It's good. Got a lot of games to catch up on. Especially Torment, Septerra Core, Neverwinter Nights and all those new games that are strange and forgein to me.

Sam, that ballad is awesome, more awesome, in fact, than the Ballad of Bilbo Baggins. And THAT was performed by Leonard Nemoy (Nimoy?).

As for all that talk of the other sex, quit whining. There are plenty around, and most guys seem to find one willing to like them back. All the girls that I'VE wanted to ask out have later turned out to be lesbians (real ones, they don't use it as an excuse not to date me, reason I know is I've only actually asked one of them out, and at that point I suspected anyway. Pattern recognition), but you don't see me bitching about it.

Until now, I guess.


Buccaneer's Ballad 

Testin' my chops as a songwriter today with a song I wrote about pirates. Fans of "Comics I Did with Ben in High School" may recognise the first verse, but the rest is all new!
Ahem...

"A pirate's life's the life for me,
A buccaneer is what I be!
Accross the seas I rape and pillage,
I leaves my seed in every village!

We dock in port from ocean waters,
Lock up yer doors! Lock up yer daughters!
A scurvy crew of corsairs we,
A plague upon the seven seas.

I loves to fight, I loves to drink,
Cross me and yer boat I'll sink,
Annoy me when I'm on the grog,
You'll find me an enraged sea-dog.

The Guv'ner's men are after me,
They'll hang me from the highest tree!
Well let them come, I'll take 'em on
with just me cutlass and me gun!

And when I'm dead, a skull and bones
I'll make my home in Davey Jones'.
An' though it makes me momma cry
I'll be a pirate 'til I die!"



!!!!!!!! 

I GOT A HOUSE


I GOT A MOTHERFUCKIN HOUSE


BOOO YEAH FUCK SHIT CUNT DICK ASS ETC


YEAH YEAH YEAHS

YARGHREGEFB WE@!RFSC

Sunday, April 18, 2004


Kwitcherbitchin 

Wah wah boo hoo. Girls are stupid, throw rocks at them, etc etc etc.

Shaddap all o' yeh. Save some goddamn face afore you look like a bunch of whiny-ass babies. All y'all should take a lesson from Leo, quoth (for those of you who missed it): "The coolest thing I even did was answer 'Let's just be friends,' with 'Whatever, I already have friends.'" (unquoth).

Leo is obviously a hero. So cut that shit NOW before you turn into a bunch of no-good schlubs.


A Tip From Sam 

Romance isn't worth the trouble, both genders included. Girls are too petty and guys are too hairy. Next time you feel like having sex, just have a stick of gum. Even the best of relationships sour, but gum always stays tasty.


The worst seven words of the English language 

I. Think. We. Should. Just. Be. Friends. (Or maybe "Your Stay of Execution has been denied") I've heard that a few times, starting from a very early age (Oh Rachael Kingsley, the most beautiful girl back in grade 7).

It's funny actually because I was having this conversation with this girl on my floor. She was talking about her sorta-boyfriend (who was quickly going to be become her sorta-ex-boyfriend). She was talking about how much she liked spending time with him and that he was a great guy, but there just wasn't any spark there. "So you mean," I said in astonishment, "You actually do want to be just friends with him?" I'd always thought it was more of a break-up/rejection stock line, but here was confirmation that (at least some) girls actually meant it. Needless to say, I had to do some re-evaluation of my beliefs.

If my life were a sitcom, I doubt I'd be the main character. As Robertson Davies said about life: "We all think of ourselves as stars and rarely recognize it when we are indeed mere supporting characters or even supernumeraries." So I'd probably be the crazy neighbour or the zany sidekick. At least though my life isn't a bad action movie. Because then I'd be Spear Carrier #34 and be casually killed before the credits appear.


A timeless rant - brace yourselves kids. 

Meyers, sucks re: the "just friends" discussion. One or two more of those and I'll have it down to an art. Women are such irrational and (at times) cruel creatures, with the exception of the absolutely wonderful and flawless female ape-goers (okay, my ass is officially covered). Case in point: a good friend of mine (female, obviously, the tales of whom Ben has been hearing for the past half-decade) calls me up tonight, just to talk. I tell her that my neighbour is over and we're watching My Cousin Vinny - he needed an out, his crazy sixteen year old sister had a bunch of people over and they were being sixteen year olds. So she says that's fine and I tell her I'll call her back in an hour, when the movie is over.

70 minutes later, I finally get rid of my neighbour on the story that I had to study. When I call back she's asleep and is angry at me for calling this late, i.e. 10-15 minutes after I said I would call. So she hangs up on me with the reason that she has an exam on Wednesday. Yeah, I have an exam on Monday morning at 9am, and I'm still willing to put myself out and spend money on a damn phone card to talk to her (she's in Nova Scotia at school). She calls me back a few minutes later, I'm thinking she's about to apologize (that happens quite often when I get hung up on) but rather, she calls just to tell me how angry she is at me! I mean, it is long distance. Anyway, I explain myself a little better and get sort of angry at her on the phone, and somehow we become not-angry at each other, and talk for three hours.

Getting the "just friends" talk does suck, I agree, but not nearly as much as showing up at the student union's year-end dinner to find the girl you've been swooning over with her head on another guy's shoulder, and finding out that you're two days too late. Or the feeling derived from getting home, congratulating her on the new relationship, and being dealt this gem: "It's because of you that we're together! All of your questions about the nature of my friendship with this guy (which you were innocently asking for no particular reason and with no motive whatsoever) made me realize how great he is and how much I like him! Thanks!" See my posts earlier this week about my life turning into a bad sitcom. Makes more sense now, I hope. I swear this particular twist was stolen from an episode of Friends or something. Oh well.

Ben accused me of writing a novel in my last blog post, so I think I'll cut myself off here. All of you should go read about the best attempt at fraud ever. Toodles.


Angry Face :@ 

Gasface! I have certain things I do every day and I guess posting on ape is one of them. By the way, thanks to all of your support, I'm Naturally Thin, Also an Asshole is currently number one on the Globe and Mail bestsellers list. T-shirts with the name of the book are being printed by Ja-Kauf Industries in sizes small and extra small. However, there seem to be a lot of morbidly obese people on the streets wearing them and crying. The book costs $75 plus shipping and handling but I'd gladly trade you one for those Everybody Loves Raymond On Ice tickets. (I hope I'm near the front)

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a gorilla with no superego.