03/28/2004 - 04/04/2004
So today I was going to be proactive. At night, studying and writing. In the afternoon, a series of tasks and missions. I was going to get up in time for brunch (11-1), fix my TD bank account (I haven't used it since first-year) and get out a movie for my gilbert and sullivan club meeting on monday.
I arrive close to the cut-off time and wait in line. Right when I get to the front they say "Grills are closed". It's 12:58. I mean, I guess it's debatible whether or not they should still serve for a couple of extra minutes– I think they should but it's reasonable to disagree. But when people are paying for a meal plan and you have set hours of operations you should at least stick to them.
So then, hungry and grumbling, I head down to fix up my TD™ account. Now when I was 18 my youth account was supposed to expire so we fixed it so it wouldn't. But–funny story–they transfered me, without telling me, to a "value-account" when I turned 19. Despite the name it actually involves pretty steep fees. So for the past year they're been billing me, again without telling me and have drove my account into the red. So now I owe them $43. When I asked why I hadn't been sent any statement of any kind they told me that the value account had a "passbook" componant where the fees would be updated everytime I took it for a bank. And of course, there's a fee for the passbook! So they designed something to screw me over, and then charged me for it.
Then I headed over to the library (which had the movie) and discovered that someone else had already taken it out.
Oh well, at least a vegan website got back to me. Cum is, apperently, vegan.
So Ben, Neil, Salmon Eye went to Ein-stein's last night. There was this girl with her friend who kept eyeing our table. So we decided we had to send someone over. Ben and I were the ones facing her and eye-flirting so it had to be one of us. So I eventually volunteered. I went to the washroom and planned my lines, "Hi." "Come here often?". I approached the table and started up a conversation. She told me to pull up a chair so I did and this went on. Turns out she and her friend are both 17in grade 12. Her friend is expecting her boyfriend to show up and finally he does. He looks a little older. He has this little telescope thing and he keeps playing with it and using it to stare and his girlfriend's chest and what not. I ask him what it is, thinking it might be one of these view finders that we use in film. He tells me it's a scope for a gun. I ask him if he has a rifle. No, a handgun.
The girls leave to go to the washroom and I ask the boyfriend how old he is. 22. He turns and asks me, "Can you think of anything hotter than getting a 17 year old girl pregnant?". I practically had to do a double take to see if I heard the guy right. But of course I'm going to agree with the guy holding the gun accessory.
The girls come back, I give my email address to the single one who I was talking with, I wrap things up and go back to the table with the guys.
The boys've decided to go for the Ein-Stein's special - Jagermeister and Red Bull. I pass, but they seem to enjoy it so much they go for two rounds. We see an accquaintance from high school come into the bar, so we pull him away from his friends and chat it up about how he got BANNED from RES.
We pay our massive bar bill and head out of the bar. We decide to walk all the way home. We stop at 7/11 to buy cigarillos and candy. Then we stop at another convenience store to buy more cigarillos and I buy toffee. It's a long walk but the conversation is excellent. Once we hit St. Clair I decide it's time for the rap attack. I put on the phones and bust out One Love (Nas, not Marley). Then I got half way through Poet Laureate II before it got too hard and I got exhausted.
I got home and started getting ready for bed. I'm brushing my teeth and listening to Canibus on the headphones when the phone rings - it's 3 a.m. - and I think I hear a knock at the door, but chalk that up to my drunk mind tricking me. I pick up the phone and I hear my sister's boyfriend telling me he's downstairs at the front door. I go and let him in, he comes and wakes up my sister in the adjoining room. She is upset. He wants to play Dr. Mario on the NES. Instead, I reglae them both with my awesome story.
I have 2/3 of a mind to make a comic about this evening up until the "pregnant" line. And yes, the single girl did add me on msn. And no, I didn't have a hang over.
I hant read the Onion in months. The fact that I am checking it again indicates I must be spending a lot of time "with a little black dog" on the internet.
Anyways, in one of the only consistently funny features, Jackie Harvey, I found Sam's catch phrase, Ragin' Cajun. I think it's now The Ragin' Gaijin or Sam "Cajun" Linton, but anyways, here it is.
crammed a month's worth of chem and elec into a week, failed both quizzes then crammed a month's worth of calculus into two days, and probably failed that too. but now thats over,back to slacking ... on a brighter note - this article gave me a good laugh (GI Joe captured in Iraq :>).
oh yes and i finally picked up my rollerblade wheels and bearings from the goddamn post office which charged me $24 for customs... fuckers!
So I had fun at the alcohol study but in the package they gave they say (twice!): please do not tell other students about the details of this study before the end of the term. If it was just bold I might blab it out, but bold and underlined?
Past week I've had an ugly econ assn and an uglier history essay to write. Next week the work is funner: the "funny story" assn in ancient humour. I think it might be funny, in an Andy Kaufmanesque way, to write a really tragic and sad story. Just cause other people in the class are reading them and saying why it's funny.
I feel that I'm regressing back into geekdom. Last night I went to the Queen's Science Fiction (SOSR, pronouced "saucer") tea party. We were supposed to dress up and I went as a Red Ensign (because I already have a black-then-red shirt and black pants). Some of the people there really had great costumes, one girl was the phantom of the opera. She had the cape, the hat, the mask... and when she took it off her face was hideously deformed and bubbling. Luckily it was make-up and she does not look like that in her normal life.
Also here's a hilarious story that shows what happens when you combine a red state idea (single mothers on welfare are required to work) and a blue state idea (legalizing prostitution). Actually it's not really that funny. But it would make a funny sitcom/movie.
Yesterday I was walking around downtown doing some errands. As I came out of the bank I saw a Native woman doing a traditional dance in the middle of the biggest downtown intersection. Traffic was passing on every side of her, so I knew she wasn't supposed to be there. The woman was dancing with a Canadian flag which appeared to have bright pink tassels on one side and it looked like there was hand writing on the flag. I stepped into the bookstore and when I came back out a crowd had gathered on the sidewalks to watch. Eventually a police cruiser and a blue '93 Chevy Cavalier showed up. A pair of uniformed officers got out of the cruiser and a man in a trench coat who I presume was an under cover cop got out of the Cavalier. One of the cops walked over to the woman and asked her to leave the intersection. When she ignored him the cop grabbed her by the arm and tried to pull her away, this is when she began kicking and screaming. A couple of the woman's friends on the nearest corner with the cops began yelling at the cop to let her go. Another cruiser showed up and all four officers wrestled the woman to the ground and managed to put the cuffs on. They lifted her up and tried to put her in the back seat of the cruiser feet first, but she got her feet up and planted on the frame of the car and continued kicking. They got her in but we could she her kicking at the windows and rocking the car.
An educated looking woman in her 30's was standing beside me, she turned and asked if I knew why she was dancing, I didn't know. She commented that people never ask why things happen. Was the woman protesting something? Gawd knows the aboriginals of this continent have plenty of reason to protest. The woman also pointed out to me that the Native woman had laid spruce bows down to mark the corners of a square, which she told me was an important symbol to the local Ojibwa.
If the story got to the local news (CHEX TV) and there's a good chance it would ("Mrs McIntyre's dog shit on the lawn of city hall. We'll have the in-depth report on the 6 o'clock news" is not an exaggeration of CHEX's reporting) they would probably tell the same story the shmullet'd hick gave: "...and in other news a cwrazy lady stopped twaffic doing some indjun dance".
What really pissed me off about this affair was all the gawking local hicks poinying and laughing and not recognizing what we were really seeing. One truly hideous troll woman with a badly bleached shmullet said this to her 4 year old daughter "Don't worry baby, that lady was just cwazy (say "crazy" but in the voice of Mike Stasiuk, that's what it sounded like). haha. They're gonna take her downstairs. What a wacko. Haha" I think I would have been justified in throttling her then and there.
Also banks are the product of Satan. Muthafuckas froze my youth account, now I hafta pay hella mucho fees I don't understand. The woman who dealt with my account was a corporate shill who I hated for no reason almost immediately. Her office was outstanding only in it's near total lack of personalization. There were only four items in the office that served purely aesthetic purposes. First was the vase full of bland flowers a quarter of which were dead. Second was the plush hugging snowmen that I'm pretty sure came from the gifts in the same mini mall as the bank branch. Thirdly and fourthly were the two pictures in what looked like company approved picture frames that matched the uninspiring paint job and colour scheme of the place. One was a picture of the woman and her blonde moppet daughter. The other picture was her husband in hunting camouflage gear holding a dead duck. I was so pissed off at her and the bank I contemplated stealing her TD calculator, I was just about to do it, but she walked back in the office. If "someone" fire-bombed the branch I would be the first to cheer.
Okay, for starters, I'm not feeling this, "We had sex with your MOTHER" thing. It gives people a juvenile impression of the site before they get started reading and hey, we're not always juvenile. Sometimes we write seriously. Goin' Ape is not the most serious name certainly, but there are degrees between Goin' Ape and having sex with mothers.
Also, you know how I feel about older ladies. If you don't, "not a fan".
Secondly, something is UP at Excalibur.
What irks me is they aren't saying what was plagiarized. By not saying what was plagiarized they are casting into doubt EVERYTHING I have read in their publication over the last few weeks. I intend to learn as much as I can about this.
It all started when I decided to download a cover of the remarkable Black Sabbath song, Hand of Doom. In searching for the cover, I also came across a different song of the same name by a band called Manowar. Now this is truly an excellent band. Not excellent in a "what a great band" way, but excellent in a "This band IS bad heavy metal!" way, but good. They're good musicians, the vocalist can sing (not too common in the metal of today, as I will get to) and they're songs have good rhythm. What makes them awful, and by extension great, is how ridiculously dumb all of their songs (at least, the ones I downloaded) are. I no less than three instances, the lyrics of their songs involve the themes of being a viking, killing people in the name of metal and being part of a mystic brotherhood. Hilarious and rocking, like when you catch yourself rockin' out to a Spinal Tap song!
Warriors of the World United
Hand of Doom
Brothers of Metal
The story doesn't end there, however. (well, it's not so much a story as a loosely joined quasi-narrative, but anyways) Flush with the success of finding a new band to listen to, I decided to see if Exclaim! magazine had any advice for my metal tooth. I needed some new metal (as opposed to nümetal, which is an entirely different animalaltogether, of which I had no need), so it stood to reason that Exclaim! wouldn't lead me astray. From their advice, I decided to sample the works of Mastodon and Anorexia Nervosa. The results?
Mastodon: Great riffs, easy to get into, hella proficent. If you can get over the grating, dying-man-speaking-through-a-length-of-hose voice of the lead singer, quite a good band. That is, however, a big "if". Still, I say good.
Recomended: March of the Fire Ants
Anorexia Nervosa: More like "Awful band that sucks-ia"! I don't even know why I bothered with a band with a name like this. Maybe it was becaus the review I read described them as "wagnerian". Again, we have a musically competent band being ruined by their vocalist. However, unlike Mastodon, in which the lead singer's voice somewhat detracts from the music, but only until you get used to it, whoever is singing for Anorexia Nervosa seems hell-bent on
a) drowning out the rest of the band
b) being entirely unintelligible and
c) generally being awful.
Going off on a tangent, about half of the metal bands I have ever heard have vocalists like this, and they have all sucked (exception proving the rule: Motörhead, who rock). It's just terrible. It's things like this that make me turn to synth-pop and classic rock for my thrills.
Recomended tracks: None whatsoever.
Anyways, that last band left enough of a foul taste in my mouth to stop me from seeking out new bands for the next coupla weeks. From now on, i'll just download old Warren Zevon tunes*.
In other news, guess who was inducted into Canada's Walk of Fame? Clue: They Aren't Even Human!!!
*i.e., "Boom Boom Mancini"
So this week is Israeli Apartheid Week at the University of Toronto. I have to say, it's been interesting. Sidney Smith Hall's lobby has been the site of some interesting debates and yelling matches, banners have been hung with rather blunt accusations made on both sides. I just found out that IsraelFEST is going on that Hillel center near the north end of campus all last and this week, but it's much less controversial and so wasn't really publicized.
I do applaud the university for not canning a controversial event and standing by its commitment to free speech (I personally would've chosen another title, but what's done is done).
From the Haaretz article I linked to above:
"We distinguish between hate speech and free speech," said Frank Dimant, vice president of B'nai Brith Canada. "Israeli apartheid is a lie, it's hate, and it's a continuation of the demonization of the state of Israel and the Jewish people."Now, claiming ulterior motives is one thing, but couldn't you at least come up with a better rebuttal than "liar, liar, pants on fire"?
Dimant said he found the weeklong program all the more repugnant, coming on the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, the Nazi concentration camp in Poland.I've seen no evidence of any violence or even malevolence towards Jews on campus as a result of this undertaking, visible or otherwise; I'm sure if there had been violence the media would've been all over it like flies on shit. The arguments have gotten heated but have, by my observation, uniformly ended with handshakes. Criticism of any country's policies can and does stand apart from racial slurs and motives, unless your name is Anne Coulter.
My criticism of the events thus far have been limited to two. First is a rather poor choice of topic/position by one Palestinian fellow I came into contact with, who claimed it was somehow racist/Eurocentric for Ethiopian Jews relocating to Israel to have to learn Hebrew; if you move to a country, you learn to speak the goddamned language. There are many fronts on which you could legitimately criticize Israel's domestic policies: this isn't one. Second criticism is of the lack of free/cheap food being provided by either faction. How am I supposed to judge who's right and who's wrong when I can't compare the quality of their cuisine?
I dyed my hair BLACK yesterday. It took about 2 1/2 hours, just because I had to dye my hair RED first to put red pigment back into the places where I had blonde highlights. I should have just left it red...but noooo...At had to go black. And now I risk death by parents "you look like some sick twisted goth freak" and really awful colour when it starts to grow out. Or I could just keep it black. When I get a pic I'll throw it up here...and you guys can decide.
Next on my list: hot librarian glasses.
Oi, also, red was too hard to colour coordinate. Too many colours I couldn't wear.
Muthafuckin Blogger swallowed my great post when I tried to add a picture (I still don't know how *sigh*) but I'll try this again.
The Pope was rushed to hospital was rushed to hospital on Monday. This in itself is not news, the man's about a bajillion years old and he has Parkinson's disease (speaking of Parkinson's, Neil and I saw Back to the Future II a couple days ago). When the Pope dies there's some ancient, elaborate and super sneakret ceremony for electing the new pope. I believe J.P. deuce was elected in 1978.
Right now there are 64 members of the College of Cardinals who are elligable for the hat of popeship. Those Eye-talians have be hogging the popeship so I hope they give it somebody else maybe Jaime L. Sin, the Archishop of Manila. How cool would it be to have a Pope Sin. Or maybe we could have a charming Irish pope like Desmond Connell, the Archbishop of Dublin. As an Irish quasi-Catholic my vote goes to him, not that I get a vote or anything. Of course you can't go wrong with a Pope Urban. By my count we'd be up to Urban IX. Fortunately for Christianity we've already considered this scenario and would surely be called upon by the the papacy to socialize the pope for the 21st century. Imagine if Christmas went like this:
"Eh yo homes! I'm the muthafuckin P.O.P.E., Prayer Ova Pussay Ev'ytime! Brrrah Brrrah! We're here today to ce'brate da birf of my dawg the Christ Child. He was born in a barn, you can't get much mo' ghetto than a fuckin barn, I beleadis why he grow'd up so hard. Even at birf he was so dominant all the other kings went thurr and brought him bling bling. This ones for you brutha (pope pours some Christ Blood on the steps of St. Peter's Basillica, takes a swig, crosses himself and climbs into his Poped Caddy (or possibly Poped rice rocket) complete with crucifix hood ornament."
I can't decide if Nas would be the Archbishop of Queensbridge or the Anti-Pope, cause you gotta have an anti-pope.
Can the Catholics in the crowd clear something up for me: Why do the three wise men bring such crappy gifts? I can understand the gold, but WTF are a couple of new parents going to do with frankensense (sp?) and mir, which to my understanding are smelly oils or insense or bath salts. They were so poor that a pregnant woman was stuck in the FUCKING BARN. Why couldn't they bring practical gifts like a new donkey or cradle, or some cleaning swaddling clothes for the baby. Or pay for them to stay in an actual in with actual beds. I know that the story goes that there wasn't any room at the inn, but what kind of cold-hearted bastard inn keepers makes a pregnant lady sleep in a barn?!
Mondo party last night!
An entire night of doing round table comics and drinking heavily on someone else's tab?! What's the catch?
Seriously, it was great. Fuckin' Beer-larinous.
Ha, I am a fighter and a lover
I'm the freaky baby daddy, I'm a bad motherfucker
I'm the earth, wind, fire, and the thunder
I said I am, go ax my mother
Fuck, Mos. You were doing so well. And then you turned into Phife.
I went to the Tate McKenzie today for really the first time. I keep on forgetting my clothes, or lock, or shoes, and finally I had all o' them, so I went. But it really sucked. Also the fucking track isn't even there, it's in another building, so I could have been running ages ago. I am kind of peeved. Things were just made worse by the crowds of people, and the fucking maze that place is. This is why the gym is only 10 bucks for the whole year (in actuality, half year). I think it's probably more worthwhile just to go to a real gym, even if it's more expensive. At the Y, I never had to wait for nothin'.
I'm trying to decide what to eat for dinner. I have to go shopping first, so I get to have basically anything I want. It is a far more difficult choice than it would, at first, seem. I was thinking of making crêpes, maybe, or skillet potatoes. I could have asparagus with either! Aw, shit. This is tough.
Also I think I will bake a cake.
As of today you can add Iraq to the list of democratic nations. Mesopotamia was not just the Cradle of Civilization, the Fertile Crescent also proved to be fertile to the idea of democracy. Take that all you cynical nay-sayers. What's that sounds? Oh yeah I do believe that is the bells of Baghdad extolling freedom, baby! You don't hate freedom do you? Do you loathe liberty? Do you appreciate oppression? I, for one, believe that this will be marked as a turning point ushering in a golden age for democracy in the Middle East. I'm already starting to plan for Spring Break 2006 between the Tigris and the Euphrates.
Aw man for the past two weeks I've been on a classic rock kick and it fucking rocks. Queen, Pink Floyd, Poison, Zep, Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Def Leppard (what has 9 arms and sucks?), Cream, Trooper and my new high rotation band Iron Maiden; I can't get enough. Oh yeah and Twisted Sister.
Ben: we still have to do the stage production of Leader of the Pack, complete with leather jackets
Keeping with the theme of the weekend, I was organizing my school papers which constituted a huge pile in my room. I discovered an ancient tome. It was a blue cahier made by Hilroy, ragged with age, the corners crumpled from a water spill; there was nothing written on the front. When I gathered up the courage to open the book I was confronted by these cryptic messages written in a diminutive scrawl:
- Under fire, Joran and his gang sprinted from the site they were investigating.
- At the same time, Sargeant Hawking screamed forward, firing a hrah (sic) grenade .. nowhere near the truch. (sic)
However the two marines laid down a hail offire (sic) as they advanced, injuring Sister Kury's legs, and before Minte hit her in the head and she has tinuched (?) flat.
The log procedes to describe Turn 2 and 3 - equally puzzling.
Then I came across this, written in a childish but far more legible script:
May 21- Wee-Jee Bored
S: Is there any body out, there?
B: You've got to concentrate
B: Let's start again.
B: Let's circle three more times?
N: Is there any body thee? (sic)
B: Any body at all?
B: Maybe all the Buddhism is chasing away all the bad spirits?
W: Its like a soul catcher.
S: Is any disembody there? QUOTE THAT SUCKER!
B: Is anybody cheating.
I've got some crazy busy 2 weeks ahead right before reading week so it's really time to buckle up for deeez assignments and tests.
On the note of Yuk Yuks, I do seem to attract attention from the comedians naturally. Renny on the other hand, is just always under the radar, even after shouting out that he was a film student, the guy just left him be; no jokes, nothing. Maybe he's just boring. When the comedians come near the edge of the stage, it really reminded me of that time we went to see Meet The Fockers, where you're arching your head up so high just so you can see anything more than their knees.
Oh yeah and as far as these girls went, the title of my post explains it all. And thanks to MY macking skills I will no doubt even see one of the girls again!*
*One of them also goes to UTM.
Tonight I did a babysitting stint. Yep. On a Saturday night. That's one way to see it. The other way to see it is I got paid to play Yahtzee, PS2 and read Har' Potter. Then after I tucked the not-so-lil'-un to bed I got three hours on the clock of drawing comics and reading film crap.
Also today I went to the Reference Library and saw their comics show (that Sam is reviewing and/or discussing for Excal) at the same time as retrieving my lost library card that I stupidly left in the copy machine 2 weeks ago.
But that's not to say there was no wackiness in this weekend of mine. On Friedegg I went to Yeuk Yeuk's with some of da gang and we saw a pack of comedians. We were right in the front row. We made it into the show several times. Sam had a crotch shoved in his face accompanied with the comedian questioning, "have you ever been this close to a gay man's penis?". A hispanic comedienne singled out MT for a joke about the rumored diminutive size of the Asian penis. Somehow I got off scott free. Oh, and it looked like these girls beside us were mackin' Benj, but they weren't.
And now you can all kill me for talking about this.