like a rolling stone...

i'd like to note that Dr. Matt, although still awesome, has yet to include me in his links page. Tsk tsk, Dr. Matt. in the immortal words of Bon Jovi: Who-oa, shake it up, it's like bad medicine...

bad medicine, indeed.

speaking of bad, and bar rock, i had the opportunity to view the remains of the late, great Loverboy over the weekend. mike reno... no. more interesting was the immense group of still-partying, mass-mulletted folk who gathered to smoke their reefer (because Everybody's Working For The Weekend just needs that extra kick) and rock the hell out. also, to introduce their children to the phenomenon that is Loverboy.


delightful, no?

u/v

is there a doctor in the house?

i'd like to give a shout out to my brother Dr. Matt for his kind mention on his own delicious blog. also, since i can't  quite figure out how to contact him through his web page, perhaps we can communicate through thinly disguised, vaguely hypothetical blogger fiction.

Dr. Matt is super-cool. He is a mathematician.  He drives an electric car. Well, it's half electric. He lives in the US of A.  He teaches something called discrete math. shhhhhh.... it's a secret.

do you want to know who he is? do you really want to know?

sorry. the first rule of the discrete math club is-- well, it's discrete. nuff said.

hey, work's about to start. and sadly, i have contributed nothing but wasted bandwidth to the rich, insightful world of internet journals.

ah, well.  there will be more tall tales another day, i am sure.  and besides, tomorrow i will probably even have the capability to upload pictures once again. don't worry, i'll pick something juicy.

u/v

what to name the baby

isn't it crazy that we would be trying to think of the perfect name before we even meet our cat-to-be?  before we even find an apartment, for god's sake?  still, with pets, especially cats, a name is everything. 

there are to be no Fluffy's or Missy's in my household.  my theory is that a cat name and a 1970's TV cop name should be interchangeable. or a 1970's TV villain name, for that matter.  think about it.  how cool would it be to have a big ol' cat named Rockford? or my personal favourite of the moment, Eli?

or Hutch?

get the picture?

if anyone actually reads this, please do feel free to post a suggestion of your own.  the settings have now been changed for this specific purpose. but i warn you - if you abuse this privilege and start posting uppity frou-frou names, there will be hell to pay!

hell to pay!

u/v

ps - sorry about the lack of pictures. i'm just as unamused as you. this is what happens when i'm away from my own computer for so long.

just a test

to see if i can post from this internet friendly new company of mine.

where else do i get paid to sit here and eat gummi worms and learn about internet service?

more later. break over. candy waning.

u/v

And We Will Have Fondue Beneath the Mushroom Clouds

Real Kraft Canned Cheese Product: " One product that has always been missing from food storage has been real CHEESE. "

For reasons that are perhaps best left unmentioned, a challenge was issued to me to find a source of spray-on cheese here in Canada. While searching for this distinctly American delicacy, I found a canned cheese that I had no idea existed-- a cheese not to be used for novelty retro parties, nor for self-defense, nor fraternity pranks; this cheese was wrought (and canned) for the very survival of the human race in some post-apocalyptic nuclear wasteland, or some nightmarish paramilitary state in the not-too-distant future.

Don't miss out-- a case (pictured below), only costs $84.90 US. And while you're shopping, don't forget to check out the Real Canned Butter:.

These cans are going DOWN! Down into my bomb shelter, that is!

u/v

cheese: snackable AND stackable!  

Yes, it truly is amazing. 

No thanks, I'm stuffed...

While searching for a squirrel skull on eBay (don't ask), I was compelled to search for the term "Taxidermy" in all categories. I can't decide whether I would recommend this as a course of action for the curious, or if I would strongly suggest avoiding it in order to preserve what little innocence one may still have regarding disturbing human behaviour. I would not, however, recommend doing as I did, and nonchalantly entering that term into said search engine while blithely eating an apple cinnamon muffin.

Oh, it all starts out innocently enough with mounted butterflies, and those slightly odd waterbug key chains. But sooner then you'd want to, you get into the hardcore stuff. And I'm not talking about jackalopes (see my self-portrait to your left). But yes, people actually mash a deer and a rabbit together to construct these things in an Isle-of-Dr.-Moreau-in-my-rec-room type fantasy. What I'm getting at is the little Jack Russell terriers and Persian kittens lovingly built out of goat fur. Skunk fur. Rabbit fur. PEOPLE ARE MAKING ANIMALS OUT OF OTHER ANIMALS. To me this is far more disturbing than the guy selling his cat's skull online. Like, what do you do with these little darlings when you receive them? All the posts seem to refer to potential buyers' collections. I shudder to thing of Mr. Bennett down the street stealing off to his garden shed by the pale moonlight to be with his army of goat-wrapped cats and dog-filled skunks. The eyes... THE EYES!

I'm sure that taxidermy takes skill. I'm sure that it's even an art to do it well. But then you have my friend below... yes, I'm talking about the AMAZING ARMADILLO.

Isn't it bad enough that this animal has to spend its afterlife above your fireplace, or standing around in your TV room? Bad enough you're probably going to use it as a footrest, or a coffee table, or dress it up for the holidays. Do we have to humiliate the animal completely? I realize that armadilloes may not have a lot of natural dignity to begin with, but still...

I think I may begin drafting my will to have myself stuffed and mounted in this exact position. Sort of a solidarity with abused dead (undead?) armadilloes. My union, their union.

Nuff said.

u/v

Let's take a closer look... shall we? 

Vindaloo? That sounds delish! 

jo jo dancer...

the other day i was sitting on the bus, a bus crowded with rain-soaked, mildly disgruntled and hungry passengers, when i heard the distinct bleating of a cell phone.

now, i admit that i am currently in the market for a phone myself, and if i had one, i would probably use it. i would probably even use it in public places. and i will admit that since i don't actually have my own cell phone, i'm unaware of pressing consumer issues such as phone reception on buses.

however.

the one thing that drives me INSANE about people talking on their cell phones is the people who take all their calls in this unnaturally loud, Stone Phillips-type voice. maybe they're trying to be heard over some kind of static on the line, but since they never mention this "static" (and trust me, you hear everything else they mention), i can only assume that they are in some way bragging. somehow, some sick need for attention causes them to lord their technological advancement over the rest of us poor jerks.

isn't that why people used to use the first cell phones? the ones that looked like you were holding an immense MixMaster to the side of your face? or the first CAR phones? sure, you looked like a dork, but you could order a pizza to yourself in the parking lot.

however.

this particular fellow was having a very involved conversation with or about an unseen individual named "John". the meat of which centered around a business transaction involving a stereo, or possibly an XBox. Mr.Phone on the bus was unsure what to do about John's deception, and was threatening vacating his apartment in retribution. (again, if you want to make yourself seem powerful and interesting, perhaps consider a loudspeaker conversation with a fictious real estate agent. stockbroker. porsche dealer.)

as i listened to him talk, i wondered what would happen if i just tapped him on the shoulder and offered my advice about what to do in his situation. "i think you and john need to sit down and talk this out." i imagined myself saying, "go for indian. make a night of it."

after all, shouldn't Mr.Phone welcome input from the public forum? or would he get all huffy and insist that he was in a private conversation and that i was a snooping bitch?

he got off the bus (still talking) in front of the head shop. i didn't look back. but i think next time, i might offer my $0.02 worth.

u/v

Delicious AND nutritious! 

Weight Watchers recipe cards, circa 1974

Weight Watchers recipe cards, circa 1974

i thought i'd include this in honour of the diet i will one day have the will power to complete.

they are a true testament to the fact that what separates humans from the rest of the animal kingdom is our capacity for self-loathing. i mean, anyone who would willingly partake of... well, you'll have to see for yourself.

bon appetit!

u/v

putting off my chores to talk about procrastination

a couple of years ago, i entered a 24-hour playwriting competition. the deal was that you went into this office building one weekend, and they shut you in there in front of a computer until you handed in a play, or until 24 hours had elapsed. pizza and flophouse-style mattresses were also provided.

the point is: i managed to write a fairly decent play in about 16 hours or so. plus a little editing time. but all in one shot. now, if you told me that i could take 16 hours over the course of the next MONTH to write a play, i am absolutely sure that i wouldn't do it. how do i know this? i have been largely unemployed for about 3 months now, and nary a word has been written... oops? there is something odd in my brain that just assumes that unless i have a deadline, i'm not going to get anything done. perhaps i should hire someone to call me up at odd hours and leave vaguely threatening messages... could that get the creative juices flowing?

in the exciting world of corporate news-- i get to interview for not one, but TWO thrilling secretarial jobs over the next two days. back to the world of typing tests for me!

hooray.

this return to corporate drudgery rests squarely on the shoulders of my whopping student loan. freelance really just doesn't cut it when it comes to making those payments. and, as i have discovered through the years, banks have little to no sense of humour when it comes to... well, anything.

there is no other news to report at the moment. rehearsals for readings and such are well underway. this morning was a time of complex VCR engineering in order to tape not only Last Comic Standing, but also Big Brother, AND...

wait for it...

THE AMAZING RACE!!!

yes, i am pathetic.
AMAZINGly pathetic!

u/v

a day of tiny hamburgers

yesterday on our way to see the movie, we stopped in at the Chinese Superstore to pick up some more delightful japanese candies... on the menu are these little cookies that someone has gone to an awful lot of trouble to ensure that they look JUST LIKE hamburgers. initially, i brought a box home to my boyfriend in the hopes of tricking him into eating some kind of beef-flavoured candy, but no such luck. the damned things are delicious. creepy, but delicious. little toasted cookies (with sesame seeds on them, no less) in the shape of buns, grasping a chocolate patty that's topped with "cheese" that's made of... shortening? palm oil? i have no idea. addictive. disturbing.

i also bought a box of chocolate-filled koala bears, (falling prey to the same strange force that compelled my boyfriend to purchase a tin of "Mixed Drops", the powers of packaging) and the mysterious "Salad Fries"... they seem to be some kind of vegetable-flavoured freeze-dried french fry. the packaging shows several vegetables trapped in floating octagons of different colours... somewhat reminiscent of high school chemistry diagrams. vegetable molecules? who can say. i'm a bit afraid to try them, but the pathos of the potato character on the bag was too strong a force to resist. packaging. always with the packaging.

the movie, by the way, was "Fahrenheit 9/11". which was amazing. way better than any of Michael Moore's previous films. i think the fact that he wasn't "in" most of it really removed the sort of smug, smarmy quality that can sometimes overpower his work. in any case, a really powerful film. which, by the way, isn't just a bunch of people on screen chanting "bush is stupid, bush is stupid!" please.

and, just for fun, today's site of the day...

vintageswag.com

Yes, vintageswag.com is home to some of the yummiest real vintage t-shirts i have ever seen. i found them while feeding my new and dangerous eBay habit. sad, i know. but great t-shirts.

just another saturday night... 

please do not be alarmed...

this is only a test.

so i can see what the damned thing looks like.

and try this:

Insaniquarium

that's right. it's free. it's fun. it just wasted an hour of my time. yee gads.

uv.