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Saturday, January 22, 2005


This Man Wants To Steal $71 From Me 


Tyler Turnbull, prez of the AMS our student governmnet, has decided to impose a $71 fee for building the Queen's Centre. Now we currently have a student centre, but they're decided that rather than lowering tuition or slimming class sizes they're going to spend millions to build a building that will be finished half a decade after I graduate. And they want me to pay for it. Rather than putting it to a vote (the normal procedure) they're trying to get it ratified at the AGM a secretive meeting of a clique of AMS lackies. Generally not many people show up cause it's not really advertised (I didn't know about it last year) and it's long and boring. But this year I'm going to show up, along with everyone I can find to vote it down.

In some countries McDonald's has a McShwarma. There's a coupon flyer sitting downstaires advertising McDonald's new sandwitches. They look delicious, but only McDonald's is very good at doing that. If only they spent the same energy and time to making good food.

Friday, January 21, 2005


Nine years+ of hard rockin' and bein' your Zero 

So I'm diggin' through my infamous bedside table today in a vain effort to find a pen (Ironically!-- see iss. #5--ed) and I find an old HMV bag with a recipt in it from Jan 7, 1996, for the purchase of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. You know what that means? That means nine years ago to this day I was wicked rockin to the pissed off and hopeful strains of the Smashing Pumpkins, something that I am still known to indulge in on the occasion. Prolly I had spent a jillion dollars of hard-Christmased HMV bucks what came in CD cases to pick up that little bit of sweet awesome that is Mellon Collie. I came home and cranked it up on my headphones as I didn't want me mum to know what manner of cusses and awful things about Jesus were bein' sung, and rocked so hard till night comes (comes out at night?), whenst I switchtst to the blue disk and rocked from Twilight to Starlight. Man it is a journey to listen to. In two hours you go just about everywhere you can go. The Smashing Pumpkins can go. You go places. It rocked.

In (your m)other news, Julie (Dumais, Improv) called me up t'other day to ask me if I was interested in judging(!!!!) this year. I played it cool like it wun't no thang. I was all like, "Yeah, I guess I could do that."

No, I lie, I pretty much creamed myself and started chanting "EV-RY-ONE! EV-RY-ONE!".

Also Banned from Sharkgasm has to get their practice on, and go study the competition on Monday. Martin Gero is back from the Peg which means SHELLEY'S SWEET 16 rides again for funtertainlarity.

I et a chicken shwarma on a pita for lunch today and I can still taste it, oh my god I want more chicken shwarma.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005


The Renpire Shrikez Back -or- Nitz The Jacker 

My sister gave me Rip The Jacker by Canibus and it's one of those "change my life" albums. I've been listening to it thrice a day down to twice a day since I got it. Also, Sam lent me P.E. which I plan to listen to tonight.

So, Excalibur ran my response today. My response is somewhat more diplomatic than many of you suggested I be. Don't look at this a cop-out, but rather the best way I can think of to defend myself without exacerbating the whole situation. Things are very touchy and I'm sure a lot of you would have been as cautious as I was in this situation. I was originally going to say half this much but I had to flesh it out to meet a word count minimum for printing. Now if this is over that would sure be great.


Goin'... SHARK?!?! 

As of tonight, me, Ben an' Leo are an improv team again. By writing this down on the internet, I'm making sure that this will actually happen. Anyways, we'll (hopefully) be plying our comedic trade at Catch 2 3 improv some time in the near future, but what we need now (asides from practice) is a name. We have narrowed it down to two names:

1. Shark-gasm (like an orgasm, but with sharks)
or
2. Banned from T.V. (self explanatory)

Both names have good points. Banned from T.V. has the obvious benifits of being a recognisable in-joke, as well as good reference to why we're playing on a stage. Shark-gasm, on the other hand, has a surreal edge, and was thought up while Ben and I were drunk, watching improv. So that's got to count for something.

Which name is better, you damn dirty apes?

Tuesday, January 18, 2005


A triumphant announcement 

Ping and Leo and I were talking back on New Years (I think. Cut me a little slack, asshole) about getting him into th' Ape clan, bein' as he is basically one of us anyways. He was all upons and emailed me, and, long story short, as soon as he gets his ass in gear what to sign up for blogger, he'll be goin' ape like a pro.

In teh meanwhile, I almost got hit by a car th' other day. Mu'fu' ran a red light and turned the corner about 5 inches from where I was. I kicked his car wiv moy boot, and the dick has the nerve to actually stop the car and yell at me. So I yelled at him, until a police car stopped at the light, then he took off. The police stopped me after I crossed the street and axed what was up but I didn't snitch. Beef was wit me an' him, not no po.

The more dialect I use, guys, the more I become what I have always feared: Some awful internet kid what speaks turrible english. I just keep reminding myself that dialect is becoming ever more acceptable now, and who knows if in ten years, theorists will be writing academic papers with "LOL WHATEVR" in them.

My PhD thesis: "Y R U SO GAY!!1"


Cost of War 

What is the cost of America's war on terrorism? Bruce O'Hara is an author who lives in Courtenay, B.C. On the CBC Radio program Cemmentary, he says the price is are simply incredible.

Bruce O'Hara:
It amazes me as a Canadian that so few Americans seem willing to talk about the real issue in the current U.S. election. The real issue is not terrorism, but fear. In the grand scheme of things, Osama and his cronies are puny and ineffectual killers; losers who got lucky once. Over the past decade the street gangs of Los Angeles County have killed and maimed more Americans than all the world's terrorists have. During George Bush's term of office,
drunk drivers will kill 15 times as many Americans as terrorists do.
To fight terrorism, this year the Bush administration increased American military spending by 100,000 million dollars. To get some handle on how colossal a sum of money that is, consider what that money could have bought if it had been divided up into a thousand special project funds of $100 million each.

A hundred million dollars is a powerful sum of money. Putting that much extra money into drunk-driving counter-attack programs could conceivably cut U.S. drunk driving deaths by 20 per cent. That would save as many lives as were lost on September 11th. Another $100 million invested in anti-smoking programs, if it reduced U.S. smoking deaths by even one per cent, would save
another September 11th's worth of lives each year.

Put another $100 million into doctor oversight and re-training programs. Reducing the number of fatal errors made by American doctors even five per cent would save more American lives than have ever been lost through terrorist attack.

Imagine a hundred ways $100 million could be used to make America a safer and healthier place. Then imagine a hundred equally massive projects to make America energy self-sufficient. Imagine projects to build stronger communities, to protect the environment, to help America's young people. Imagine 100 inspiring projects to make friends for America around the world.

Imagine a thousand powerful interventions to make America safer, more energy-independent, more prosperous, and more humane. Imagine how those thousand projects could have given new life, new hope to America. Now understand: that's the cost America paid to have a fearful man in the White House. Osama Bin Laden didn't take those dreams away. George Bush did. What did Mr. Bush buy instead? One thousand flag-draped coffins. And for
what? Al Qaeda has never had a better recruiting officer than George Bush. The sad truth is that a fearful George Bush is more dangerous to America's future than an angry Osama. An obsessive and distorted fearfulness makes him unfit to govern.

For Commentary, I'm Bruce O'Hara in Courtenay, British Columbia.

This was obviously from a broadcast pre-Nov 2.

Sunday, January 16, 2005


Aye AYE 

Nobody's on their damned MSN's. What's up with that?

Well, I got that comic done. The one where I took a letter that Jenna sent me over the summer, edited it down and made it happen to Apple in comics form.

Also I posted the notorious "cheeseburger" comic for your viewing.

All this and more on: XWP

Coming soon, People Reviews... NOT!!!

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a gorilla with no superego.