well it's that time again...

tomorrow is date day. and i have a brand new haircut and brand new skanky stick-on nails all ready to go!

but, considering the current "unpleasantness" at my company, and considering j is an unemployed actor, i think we need to come up with some cheapo date ideas... even cheaper than last week's bowling extravangza...

here are some many excellent ideas for those of you looking for cheap dates... activities, that is:

* a smell adventure!
that's right, go on a smell adventure. you see dogs do it all the time... just follow your nose down a busy urban street, and create astonishing mental pictures of what might have happened. how did these smells get here? who created them? who else will smell them later today? don't be afraid to get your nose right up into some of those interesting stains.

* attend an AA meeting
where else can you go for (free) coffee, meet some exciting folks, and see the ultimate reality show? sit near the back.

* DIY poetry slam
just start spouting off whatever comes into your head. see if your partner can top it. it's poetry! preferable to do it whilst walking down a busy urban street, perhaps having a rest from your smell adventure

* extreme shoplifting challenge
who says crime doesn't pay? an exciting couples activity, you can challenge each other to steal bigger, pricier, shinier items, all using your FREE five-finger discount! see who can walk out of the store with the most stuff. see who can make the most repeat visits to a single store. handicap each other by sewing pockets shut. a great holiday season activity!

feel free to add your own!

u/v

is spamming the new intimacy?

lately i've been really impressed by the folks reaching out to me on my blog-- offering me helpful links to their own blogs about viagra and home financing, and student loans and the like.
but i want more. i need to connect more with my fellow bloggers.

how can i do this?

first of all, i have this massive student loan to pay off. my student loan isn't just a regular student loan, it's a massive student loan. it even prevents me from getting a mortgage, otherwise known as home financing. i know that a mortgage or home financing is just like a student loan, in terms of the massive debt. i can't wait till i pay it off, then i can get all the viagra, xanax and celexa that i need! maybe i can even pay for some poor man's penis enlargement! that way he can be ready and rockhard extra inches at a moment's notice!

that should get the spambots cooking...

u/v

clearly, i am the worst blogger ever

well, maybe not ever. but i can't believe how long it's been. and do i have news?

well, no.

but tonight i was treated to a delightful sci-fi romp on ye olde pay tv. maybe you've heard of it? it's called: ALIEN VS PREDATOR.

holy hell this was the biggest piece of shit. ever.

now, granted, i have only seen bits of various Alien movies, and have never seen Predator. so i may not have been this film's target audience.

but from what i can gather, Alien (a serpentine parasite) and Predator (uh... a Klingonesque race of hunter-dudes who were royally ripped off in that Matrix sequel. the one with the inexcusably long highway chase) are eons-old enemies. Predator has been hunting Alien for sport, and (oh yes i am serious) were using the ancient civilization of Aztecambodigypticans whose temple is located...

wait for it...

DEEP BENEATH THE FROZEN TUNDRA OF ANTARCTICA.

but the temple has been dormant for many years. until a group of international and attractive (well, except for Lance Henriksen) archeologists are lured to the frozen continent by some sort of.. heat signal? Dopplar radar signal?

whatever. anyhoo, they all go down into the hole and they all get slimed/exploded-stomached/spine removed, etc.

except for our heroine, some sort of environmental technician/ice-climbing chick who Predator accepts as one of his own, and they fight together for the future of the earth.

oh. i guess i should have put a spoiler alert here somewhere.

anyway, there's a really unintentionally hilarious shot of chickie and Predator leaping together to avoid... THE FIREBALL THAT THREATENS TO CONSUME THEM!

as far as the whole AVP thing, well, they just don't ever really fight. but the ending does leave it wide open for a sequel.

u/v

not sitting by the phone...

well, tonight at the beer garden, j approached a certain director and asked if he'd cast all his ladies for a certain shak-spear play... mr. x replied "oh, yeah, i really want to ask ms. x to do it, don't you think she'd be great?"
to which j subtly suggested that he might want to do auditions, and even less subtly suggested he might want to see me for the part in question.
"oh. OH. Ah haha hahaha!"
so what else could i do but join in and say i'd be delighted to audition for him anytime he wanted to see me, ha ha ha.
so, needless to say, this ms. x will not be waiting by the phone.

in other news, i believe i will be accepting a temp office job tomorrow... it won't start for a couple of weeks, have to get a criminal record check done, and such. i have a feeling the... unpleasantness won't be resolved anytime soon, so i suppose i might as well cash in. besides, i've really been missing the blandness of business casual in my wardrobe as of late. can't wait to pick up some khakis and sweater sets at fairweather. time will tell if it's a stirrup-pant friendly environment.

u/v

at last a use for my blog

no, it's not strike lockout related news.
i just want to say that if anyone like me enjoys the guilty pleasure of big brother 6, the dirt slinging has begun. and i have to say that howie's new nickname for bitchy mcbitchalot is never going to get unhilarious.
BUSTO!

CLASSIC!

u/v

on a totally unrelated subject...

well, things are a little up in the air here. and perhaps it's because Buddha or Pan or whoever is telling me that now is the time to get that joe job with the flexible hours and the freedom to do what i want. some kind of part-time gig whose resulting poverty will force me to write some brilliance just to haul myself up out of the gutter.
in the meantime, i'm already gunning up to wind the superpass for naming the 2006 fringe. here are some ideas:

1) Fringeapalooza
2) Fringerrhea (my personal favourite)
3) Fringe-a-Roni
4) Chef Fringeardee
5) Fringe This!
6) Fringe Off!
7) Fringe My Ride
8) Fringitosis (j's idea)
9) Fringe Tibet!
10)A Fringer's Guide to Replacing Words with Fringe (Fringe, fringe)
11) Merry Fringe-mas!
12) The Quick and the Fringe
13) Remembrance of Fringe Past
superpass: you. are. mine.

u/v

you, scab-bot

the laws of scabotics:

1) a scab-bot must not harm the money, or, through inaction, allow the money to come to harm.
2) a scab-bot will obey orders given to it by The Company, even where such orders conflict with the First law
3) a scab-bot will protect its own existence, as long as such existence does not conflict with the First or Second laws.

my life as a teenage deadbeat

sadly, B-Rad has removed the original posting. just imagine it's exactly like my post, except he calls everyone on the line deadbeats.

allthingsbrad: Hectic Days

original poster's comments are referenced above.


Deadbeat Days

It has been quite a hectic life I'm leading lately. I'm putting in my hours on the picket, and then some, because of the lockout going on at my work. That's right, I'm picketing, while people are still crossing the line... I don't believe in crossing a picket line over... ahhhh that's a whole other blog. I just know that I've never been happier to stand up and do the right thing. All of us "deadbeats" (to borrow from the brad) are out on the picket line, while the scabs are scuttling to work still. It's as if I hand-picked the people who I would choose to work mandatory overtime, as if I put together an elite list of the people who were in it solely for the money-- I love it!! And I'm getting my picket pay to boot-- it won't raise me into the next tax bracket, but my money is clean and earned honestly. Not to mention the perks we get-- anytime I feel like it, I can face myself in the mirror, sleep soundly at night, eat food delivered to the line by my brothers and sisters from other unions who are supporting us in our fight. And I just can't believe how much responsibility I'm taking on-- all those folks upstairs entrusting me to walk for their jobs as well as my own. It's almost as good as getting that promotion! And I can walk as much over the required hours as I want-- no enforced overtime here! I've lost seven pounds so far! What an amazing environment!

the do's and don'ts of picketing

yes, friends, i am currently "walking the line". and here, i will share some tips about striking that may help you in future labour disputes:

1) think of neutral conversation topics. suddenly, you find yourself spending hours each day with people who you liked to talk to on your coffee break, but never really wanted to meet in real life.
2) don't be afraid to walk away, walk alone. see above.
3) develop conspiracy theories.
4) trying to break up the monotony of chanting for traffic honks by leading people in a round of "we're here, we're queer, get used to it!" is NOT funny.
5) wear comfortable shoes.
6) keep an eye out for media, remember this is YOUR time to be discovered. tape the news and send a clip reel to potential agents.
7) rewrite Green Day songs with union-relevant lyrics. then, grab the bullhorn and try to force others to join in the singalong.
8) take this opportunity to think of "clever" slogans, puns on the company brand.
9) play honk bingo. big trucks, 5 points. SUV's 4 points. compact cars, 3 pts. motorcycles 1 pt.
10) remember, the people who will heckle you are generally not the noel coward set. be prepared with clever comebacks such as "that's what your mom told me last night".
11) hold on to your sign. it gets windy out there.
12) keep up on the latest gossip. remember, information is currency.
13) don't let the bastards get you down.

Detroit and the Doppler 4000

i never realized how concerned detroitagonians were about their weather until i started getting a time-shifted detroit channel on digital. every single day, i could be sitting here watching dr. phil or whatever, and the screen will go black, and a deep, booming voice will alert me to a "CHANNEL 4 BREAKING WEATHER ALERT!!!". it could be a marine warning, a sudden rain shower, some scattered hail, or even just some sudden cloud cover. but whatever it may be, Channel 4 is there, with images from the Doppler 4000.

not that it ever seems to be an emergency. i mean, they never tell you to prepare to head for the basement, or to grab a flashlight and a transistor radio, or to keep an eye out the window for the nice young men from the national guard coming to evacuate you. hell, we've had tornadoes passing by here that had less tv interruption time.

which is kind of what pisses me off. i mean, i'm watching my stories, and they're just getting down to the shit, when suddenly Sam Mantooth or whatever the hell his name is is there telling me it may be raining on Main Street, yet he still manages to return to scheduled programming in time for THE COMMERCIALS. gotta pay for the Doppler, but still.

and i could understand if Channel 4's target demographic was some cluster of michigan storm chasers with loads of disposable income:







but aren't the people that are sitting in their houses in the middle of the afternoon, fretting about the weather, more like this guy than indiana jones?






u/v

highlights of my day

1) the assmaster customer who called me "useless" while i went out of my way to be sweet and upbeat and help him sort out his phone service

2) rolling my little work filing cabinet over this bump in the carpet at work and causing a wheel to go flying off, throwing the whole thing off balance and causing the whole shebang to collapse to the ground

3) the girl at work who stole my desk and caused me to have to roll my filing cabinet over the bump in the carpet

4) being repeatedly bitten by the cat, who has incidentally developed a mysterious "sticky head" syndrome, i suspect from lying with his head in the garbage.

5) shin splints from running yesterday in the reeboks i have owned since high school

6) pangs of nostalgia for the LA Gear shoes i owned before the reeboks i wore yesterday, which also gave me wicked shin splints

7) not having to sit next to Optimus Prime at work for once

8) discovering that writing down "work on fringe show" in my day timer does not in fact equal a binding contract with myself to do so

9) discovering that Kelly whatsherhead won Dancing With The Stars, being mildly disappointed, then being mildly disheartened that i would be in any way disappointed by the results of a reality show i never watched.

10) od'ing on delicious, delicious sunflower seeds.

popularity

when did it leave me?

i never was one who enjoyed popularity... i spent most of elementary and high school secluded, hiding from bullies. a brief spate of friend-having followed in university, after which i decided to chuck it all and head out west for the open plains.

years passed.

which brings us to a couple of weeks ago. an unspecified birthday. a birthday to which numerous friends and even acquaintances were invited. said friends and acquaintances even said "yes, see you there, can't wait, it will ROCK!"

can you guess what happened?

the horror! every teenage nightmare come true. 4 people came out in total. i now acknowledge these select few as my TRUE FRIENDS. the rest... well, as i've said before, it just goes to show that high school prepares you for life in more ways than one, i suppose. where you spend your time secure in the knowledge that while you are morally and intellectually superior to them, the assholes seem to control the world and are rewarded for it.

i'm sorry, getting older has made me more bitter, apparently.

or it could be the running-induced exhaustion from my new fitness kick. either or.

yes, tom, there is a thorazine

is it physically possible for the once-beloved tom cruise to be any more of an asshole? i realize that he's decided to let it all hang out since firing his publicist and hiring a new girlfriend, but his Today Show appearance was too much. it was vile, nauseating, and all i needed to send me over the edge to a tom cruise boycott.

i mean, even ROSIE denounced her cutie-patootie tommy boy.

but seriously, tom. i understand, tom, that you don't believe in psychiatry. but tom, no, tom, listen to me. tom. we all heard you the first time, tom, that you are very much concerned with learning about history, and culture and so forth. but what i question, tom, is that i just can't believe that if you were really so into world betterment, that you'd be so fired up about making a piece of shit like the impending MI3. seriously, tom. it's just not plausible. it's like a... a pseudo-hypocrisy.

can't someone at universal just tell him to shut the fuck up? or can't we get A&E out there and get spielberg and katie and everyone together and organize some kind of intervention?

i mean, i don't believe that my problems are caused by emotional soul scars left by aliens from a past life, but i don't have to go to matt lauer to spout off about it. but next to that, i have to say that a chemical imbalance doesn't seem quite so improbable.

learnings for the day

today i learned two things:

1) i desperately need some lessons in acting for the camera
2) always, always wear sunscreen.

i am writing to you from beyond the taught sheath of sunburn, a sunburn i acquired after a mere hour under the assault of the earth's main star. the sun, when he's at home. i spent my time doing a short independent film, in which i had one line and was doing as a favour to a friend.

film is fascinating and confounding to me-- the actors are more like props, and there are the mechanics of keeping every take physically the same, while maintaining some level of spontaneity. i always feel stiff, awkward, like when you're on stage and notice the eye of the reviewer or a random audience member firmly zeroed in on you. i try to hard to seem natural. or i feel insecure next to the tiny size 0 girl with impossibly huge breasts who's playing the love interest. i, godzilla to her godzookie am dimly aware of the fact that i shouldn't care about impressing people i've never met and will likely never see again.

that, and the hangover from all the gin i drank last night. a different story, a story where j and i almost ended up in an altercation with skinheads at the birthday party of a friend. in a bar with a german name and blasting reggae music, we almost met our doom.

and the sunburn-- well, that's a curse i have to live with every summer. i don't know how long vitamin e cream stays good, i'm wondering if i'm going to come down with some dire skin condition from smearing it on my face every few minutes.

the good news is that bedlam is in fact doing a show in april, and i have been commissioned (in a way) to write some of the shorts. with that, the tour, and the reading in calgary in the fall, i can finally say with some confidence that i have a "season" ahead of me.

but will people like me? will they really, really like me?

that's the question of the day.

u/v

ps- when in doubt for a birthday gift, the New and Improved Fart Machine is a smashing success. particularly with the remote control feature.

could this be my problem?

i just took an online iq test.
it told me my score is 90.

90.

now, i realize one shouldn't place much faith in these internet tests, otherwise, one could suddenly find oneself suffering from OCD, irritable bowel, ovarian cysts AND erectile dysfunction, just from clicking away at the pop-ups.

but i wonder-- wouldn't it be easier just to be somewhat stupider?

i talk to stupid people all day. they tell me how they are shareholders and must fly to vancouver regarding their son's mysterious "condition". they tell me that if they say their phone number out loud then the people listening to them in their apartment will know it and call them, and harass them. i talk to people who don't understand the simple mathematics of -$99.95 + $99.95 equalling $0.00. i talk to people who spend 10 minutes waiting on the phone only to shout and holler that they only received pages 1, 3 and 5 of their bill.

i realize that i talk to crazy people. but also, to stupid people.

and they are so blissfully right. all the time. it never occurs to them to be insecure, or polite, or to think and consider and contemplate before they act.

i stole an issue of O magazine from the laundry room. mind you, i wanted to read an interview with Jon Stewart, but i was amazed at the branding, the sloganization of the oprah phenomenon. she tells me: "live your best life". well, i have to say, oprah, that i'm trying.

but then, i hear the booming drawl of dr. phil echoing in the recesses of my mind: "how's that working for you?"

who to believe... the audience on springer shouts "JERRY! JER-RY!" which is of no help at all, and maury-- well, maury has little to offer me.

"live your stupidest life"???

as a slogan, it needs work.

u/v

test

this is a test to see if everything is working out ok.

everything on the blog, that is.

u/v

i bring you a new theatre festival...

well, the nominations came out today-- i myself was not there, but word on the street has it that there weren't very many surprises.

but it got me to thinking-- if Ol' Dirty B (aka comic book guy/the hobbit overlord) can nominate his very own shows to be featured at the fringe holdovers, why then should not a new theatre festival spring forth...

THE HELDBACKS.

yes, my very own slamdance. ALL THE SHOWS THE VARSCONA DIDN'T WANT YOU TO SEE! find a venue and feature the ignored, the lowly, perhaps even the fontrumesque. and maybe, FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY, a performance of one show that desperately tried to get into the fringe but was a lottery loser. an exclusive, as it were.

i would poster it up an down the beer tents. i would make my own announcement, using a bullhorn, standing on a picnic table in the middle of Fried Crap Alley. and i would put on these shows.

it's time for a backlash.

and one day, when i am ever so slightly more popular and powerful, when my actions could only be interpreted as a delightfully witty jibe at the establishment, it shall happen.


The Heldbacks.

keep your eyes peeled for my day-glo posters.

u/v

when will i be cool?

when i was younger, i used to fantasize that i would one day be cool. like, during grade 6, i imagined that my whole life would change once i went to junior high. you see, my junior high went from grade 7 all the way to grade 13. and grade 7-- grade 7 would be a place to make my mark, to reinvent myself for the years to come. i imagined that i would be a cheerleader. i used to take out books from the library on cheerleading, which i suppose was significant only in measuring the magnitude of my lameness, not my coolness-to-be. i would be a hottie. i would be POPULAR.

so forget that i managed to make a nerdly pursuit out of cheerleading. forget that i could sing along to the entire cast recording of Phantom of the Opera. forget that i was-- ahem-- somewhat tubby and wore pastel pink and blue clamdiggers on a regular basis, carefully matched to my peacock blue eyeliner.

i knew i was going to be cool. that high school was this magical place where people would see your inner light shining through.

but.

as much as i knew that i was destined to be cool, the cool kids knew that they were destined to STAY cool. and so all the popular kids from all the different feeder schools sort of glommed together into a massive imperial popularity crew conglomerate.

in that way, you know that way how cool/popular people instinctively recognize each other?

coolness was beyond my reach. for the moment.

i began planning for university.

university, incidentally, was very similar to high school, but more anonymous.

what i find strange and fascinating and perhaps worthy of sociological study, is how not only all the cool kids recognize each other, but how we all instinctively recognize the cool kids. still, now, even rolling down the hill to 31, i still recognize that there are cool and not cool people. the ins and the outs.

am i the only one who's still intimidated by the cool, the popular, those super-put-together people who could do the hair shelf thing in high school, and now have perfect ANTM type hairdos?

oh, what a big whine.
it's the diet. i swear, it's the soup diet.

u/v

everyone's a winner baby...

i have news i cannot reveal.

news i have been sworn to secrecy about.

but there are some clues:

1) the dutch play
2) a free trip to the home of the stampede
3) some much-needed cash for my fringe tour fund.

can anyone guess? (i'm talking to YOU, elo.)
i'm not allowed to talk about it, though. not until june 8 or something. so if you can guess, you must not tell anyone.

fortunately i have been stricken down with horrible tara-reid-like laryngitis. a true plus when you're working in a call centre talking to jackasses on the phone all day.

u/v

well, i'm home surprisingly early...

strangely, there was no show tonight. or last night. fortunately, my paycheque in no way depends on house size... thank god for contracts.
so i came home and had some yummy greek food and am now watching must see tv.

u/v

unfortunately there are no links to post...

but the show is getting some of the worst reviews... to those familiar with the edmo community, liz (thanks a lot, liz) accused me and my scene partner of beginning the play in a fury of "grimacing and eye-rolling". like the show begins with some sort of theatrical seizure. which, in a way, it does. but i swear, i was just following orders.

"pretend you're on an episode of three's company..."

famous last words of Herr Direktor.

paul (www.vueweekly.com) apparently just didn't like the plays.

but the very best is the review at www.seemagazine.com that says "if you must see this, take advantage of the fact that it's put on in a bar, and quaff 2 or 3 drinks before the show. this should help take the edge off..."

S-NAP!!!

i swear, some of these reviews are so HILARIOUSLY written, the authors should consider writing plays themselves.... oh, right.

so apparently i am in a sucky play. i personally do not suck (unless you listen to Liz Nicholls, but come on, she starts out her review with "Yikes!". yikes. that's the kind of hard-hitting, well-thought-out journalism that... oh, fuck it, it just sounds like she's conferring with Velma and Shaggy. Zoinks!).
so my self-esteem is somewhat intact.

somewhat.

mostly i just can't wait for it to be over.

ZOINKS!

u/v

this does not meet the standards for subtlety that i require in my haunted house 

why does everyone have my ideas first?

Don't click if you are afraid of Santa

this is what would be hanging over the fireplace when you go into my haunted house.

how i will make a million dollars

i would like to open a haunted house. not just your typical boring haunted house, but a THEMED haunted house.

a CHRISTMAS THEMED haunted house.

in october, i would have a sign outside that would say "haunted house" or "spookyville", just like everyone else on the block who runs a haunted house. but once people stepped inside, they would be overwhelmed by the mistletoe, and the blood, and the carols, and the crippling despair. perhaps dioramas of people electrocuted while putting up the lights, or who accidentally gassed themselves to death while putting the turkey in the oven. a head suddenly falling out of the chimney and rolling under the tree. you know, a haunted house.

but the best part... the best part would be in december, when i would once again open my haunted house. but this time, i would put out a sign that said "santa's village".

u/v

Look what smudge broke now

mine was much cooler and i grudgingly accept that no one on ebay likes them either

still, he broke my cool little honey jar. and the lid. it had bees on it.

BEES!

u/v

the end is near

well, opening night looms. my comfort is that i will only have to run the show 11 more times (maximum), counting tonight's dress rehearsal. i have at times the feeling of being in some kind of skit... perhaps it's the track lighting which illuminates the boards we tread, i mean the small platform in the middle of the pub. perhaps i'm insecure about performing on a strangely modified thrust using blocking that was done for a proscenium stage. perhaps it's the fact that i realize that if reviewers do come, it will be very difficult to leave a mention of me out of the review, seeing as how there are only 4 people in the show.

fortunately i have been brushing up with some acting lessons.

in answer to Dr. Matt's question:

i have never been to chicago, but what do vancouver's kits and toronto's annex have in common? ummm they're both trendy, overpriced enclaves of artistic types? who favour funky planters and porch lights?

an interesting key to who you truly are...

u/v

the new miracle diet plan...

i was in the convenience store downstairs at work today, about to repeat yesterday's incredible lunch of chocolate milk and cheese, when i realized that not only was the annoying man buying the extra-oxygenated water staring at me with scorn, but that i may have hit upon the greatest diet plan of the century.

i call it the CHomp away your CHunk diet. all you eat are foods beginning with CH. chocolate. cheese. chili. cherries. etcetera.

then i realized it painted a fairly accurate picture of what i actually eat.

speaking of the crappy store downstairs, i noticed that they no longer stock the little cereals i used to buy. now, i used to get those little packs of froot loops or rice krispies or what not, the ones with the peel off foil tops like instant soup, that i thought were actually brilliant. i noticed that they never actually restocked after i bought the last one. they never restocked while i was buying the cereal, either. this was like 8 months ago. maybe they don't even make those cereals anymore.

creepy.

u/v

and wash it all down with... 

chimichanga, anyone? 

lose 10 lbs in 10 years.... 

if david blaine were really magic

wouldn't it be cool if he floated himself over to, say, afghanistan, and was all like, "i've got to tell you something" in his love-child-of-stephen-wright-and-sean-penn-monotone-drone to some people who were just kind of hanging out. "do you believe in magic" and then the people would be all just staring at him blankly, the way the people in his specials do, or the way they might stare at some levitating, droning american, and he would continue in that about-to-pass-out-from-heroin-overdose-can't-keep-eyes-open kind of voice he uses "what would you say if i told you there were some LAND MINES right there? right where you're walking?" and then the ground would just kind of burn away with some really cool-looking colored smoke, and all the land mines would be revealed.

don't you think that would be cooler than just walking around freaking people out?

also, if i thought the doctors in the er were somewhat unsympathetic when i had that ruptured disc, what would they have been like if i had arrived after FREEZING MYSELF IN A BLOCK OF ICE for 62 hours?

i mean, they seemed pretty attentive to david blaine, but i think he practices some kind of mind control.

magic, you know.

u/v

an unfortunate trip to the vet

due to his recent encounters with kidney stones, j must collect (as some choose to collect coins and butterflies) his pee for 24 hours. he has to collect it in a 3L plastic jug and turn it in somewhere or other tomorrow morning.

needless to say, this is clashing with The Smudge's penchant for knocking over glasses of water. particularly as the collector jug has acid in the bottom of it. i suppose it's medical acid of some sort. but i don't want to have to take The Smudge to the vet and try and explain away his urine-soaked acid burns, medical or otherwise.

"you see, dr. karen, j was quite proud of himself, having already collected 2.5 litres of urine so early in the day..."

The Smudge would probably do it to spite me.

u/v

so where does Battlefield Earth fit in, again?

i was waiting for my bus today, when a jehovah's witness materialized. you know how they seem to be able to do that, just "poof!" and there they are in their nice clean suits, bible in one hand, offer of reading material in the other. just something to read while you're waiting for the bus, you understand. but at the same time, there's the implicit understanding between you that you must not accept the offer of reading material, or you are also accepting a whole other discussion of the material, as well as a discussion of your relationship with jesus, etc.

yet i've always been curious about the reading material. much the same way that i've always wanted to buy that copy of DIANETICS at the sally ann, but i know that i must not read DIANETICS on the bus. nor must i go up to the DIANETICS booth at the fair or the rummage sale, or whatever.

hey, i just want the reading material, not the sales pitch.

does that mean there's something wrong with me? am i closed minded?

example: whenever i think about following my desire to become a buddhist, i get quite hung up on the whole, uh, well, REQUIREMENT of giving up your desires. because i desire a lot of things. not things like cute convertible cars and chic camper shoes. but stuff like fame and success and stuff. and i realize that according to the buddha desire for these things causes suffering, but then for whatever reason (well probably because he's the famous buddhist) i thnk about richard gere and how he's famous, and he seems to be doing ok, but then i think "well, maybe rg doesn't desire fame, maybe it's just thrust upon him". but then i think about how one really shouldn't be thinking about richard gere when contemplating one's spiritual path.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

u/v

guess who?

the green-eyed monster

have you ever been incredibly, painfully jealous of someone that you really should be happy for, but after all is said and done, their complaining about their accomplishments just makes you feel hard done by? or like you're trapped on a path to insignificance, having long ago passed the offramp for your own future success?

just wondering.

on the plus side, the haunted stitch ebay guy seems to be doing well and profiting by his experience.

as well, a great pick-me-up is to go to popcap.com and play Typing Shark. Or Psychobabble.

u/v

Find a way to see this now

BBCi - Cult - Classic TV - Ghostwatch

holy hell this is one of the most frightening movies i have ever seen. it was banned in the UK after only one broadcast, is apparently the only television broadcast ever to have caused post-traumatic stress disorder in children, and was linked by the tabloids to at least one suicide. they showed it here (God bless SCREAM TV) a few weeks ago, and j and i ended up huddled together on the futon hiding our eyes. even though i have no idea who any of these bbc folks really are, it's such a deliciously realistic documentary, over the top ending and all. i need to find this on DVD.

scary!

u/v

who am i anyway?

Bi... Bismuth You scored 81 Mass, 44 Electronegativity, 42 Metal, and 20 Radioactivity!

Ever wonder where the name Pepto-Bismol came from? You. You exist within the gray area between metals and non-metals. Personality-wise you are inflexible in your approach to problems, and you are prone to giving on everything when one thing gets rough... you may give up, but you don't walk away, and eventually you'll try again. You are a social element, but you have the tendency to let entire groups of friends lapse or disintegrate over time only to build them up again later. You might get along pretty well with Mercury or Lead. Of course, you might get along well with something else. You're actually kinda strange... I mean, look at you. Those are some freaky shapes you're forming.

Link: The Which Chemical Element Am I Test written by effataigus on OkCupid Online Dating

The Infinite Cat Project - Cats watching cats watching cats. It's a concept!

The Infinite Cat Project - Cats watching cats watching cats. It's a concept!

this is HILARIOUS. or sad. sad because i flipped through the first 30 or so pictures and was peeing my pants laughing at the cats.

if only i could take a picture of smudge and submit it for posterity.


speaking of smudge, i was making a costume today, and when smudge spotted the tiny safety pins i was using, he jumped up on the couch and started EATING them. eating them like they were the greatest treat ever. and then started biting me when i was trying to get him to spit them out.

so i think the cat ate some safety pins.

i called the vet, and they said not to worry. just to feed him to form a poo cushion around the pins.

but you can see why we might want to set up a pre-emptive memorial...

u/v

a stitch in time... CAN KILL YOU!!!

eBay item 5566217149 (Ends 26-Mar-05 18:53:38 EST) - Haunted Possessed Disney Stitch Teddy Dangerous?

many thanks to Dr. Matt for bringing this to my attention... everyone should check this out, it's happening right in my own backyard, as it were. i can't help thinking that it bears a strange resemblance to the Stephen King story "The Monkey", but i supposed all possessed toys would have something in common. i know it's long, but it's worth it to read all the "updates". also, take a look at all the bidders' questions.

could this be true?

or could this be a way for me to make $300?

u/v

Happy No Snakes Day!

(Ends 17-Mar-05 19:43:12 EST) - LEPRECHAUNS POT OF GOLD

myself, I am horribly broke, but you all can head on over to eBay RIGHT NOW and partake in the LUCK OF THE IRISH! how many coins do YOU think he has? remember, kids, it's GUARANTEED!

u/v

is there anything worse than a 0.8 share?

tore myself away from true hollywood story self-improvement to check up on my favourite cultural offering: reality tv shows, and i note that my new favourite, the WB's THE STARLET is going down for the 3rd time, no bubbles to be seen. this exciting rip-off of both The Apprentice and ANTM came in 114th out of 116th of ALL PRIME-TIME SHOWS airing during the week. think about that. ALL OF THEM. that includes a whole pile of shit that we have never heard of, stuff that you would assume no one would ever think to watch. and all that crap gave The Starlet the beating of its life. stuff like American Dream Derby. and JAG. even if they made a hilarious JAG spin-off about JAG's upstairs neighbor, it would have to get better ratings.

and why? i mean, this show is like fontrum central.

fontrum = the act of being embarrassed for someone who should be embarrassed for themselves but is not. fontrum can be found throughout the inhabited world, most frequently at live theatre, comedy clubs, and karaoke. see also: American Idol.

have you ever seen the inevitable ANTM episode where all the models have to take "acting" lessons? well this is like that ALL THE TIME!! plus, it's not just some random dialogue you've never heard of... you get to see our contestants competing to give the best performance in scenes from "Smallville"! and "Fastlane!" and "A Cinderella Story"!

feel the SIZZLE!

and... the best part... it is hosted by Vivica A. Fox and FAYE DUNAWAY.

what the hell?! like did someone steal her identity and embezzle all her money and ruin her credit so she desperately needed to take this show because she was also cracked on the head and developed amnesia and FORGOT SHE WAS AN OSCAR-WINNING ACTRESS? or has it all been to work towards encouraging young gals to become starlets... no, not stars, not artists, not actresses. boobs and hair, girls. that's it.

ok, the VERY best part... is that when a girl get's kicked off the show... faye dunaway gets to say:

"don't call us. we'll call you."

i don't understand why more people don't want to watch this!!!

u/v

dutch goes down!

so you see, my lovelies, i have not abandoned you without cause... i have finally finished that bastard of a play, and sent it off not only to the APC (a competition that i can only dream will pay me lots o $$$) but to a friend who works at the big house (uh, theatre not penitentiary) who requested it. so i'm feeling somewhat smug about the whole thing. plus all copies of all versions of the stupid thing are far from my sight. i don't have to see that piece of poo artistic achievement for another six months if i don't want to.

blogs are depressing. not mine, which is just sad and neglected, but other blogs. check out the button in the top right-hand corner. go for it. hit "next blog". chances are you'll get some cool smart commentary, but you'll get way more people musing about suicide. or maybe i was just having a bad run.

so i have to go watch american idol while eating mini-eggs read proust while nibbling on low-carb, vegan cuisine.

my spine is... let's just say i think it's working for the enemy. we'll call it my spy-ne from now on. i'll be back to try and brighten the place up with some cool pictures though, seeing as i have a couple of days off with no money and nowhere to go...

u/v

my abject apologies

to anyone out there who actually reads this page and is disappointed/devastated/irritated/angered/enabled by the lack of posting as of late. my mysterious injury seems to have largely disappeared, meaning i can once again spend hours sitting at the computer, looking up "information" on the net.

speaking of which, for those of you who don't read cnn.com, check this out:

www.queryletters.blogspot.com

ok, for whatever reason i can't get the old "link" button to work, and i'm too lazy to look up html for how to do it. yes, i'm a dork. but it won't kill ya to cut and paste.

this weekend i am forcing myself to write. the deadline for a competition is on tuesday, i must be done this weekend.

also, a certain organization i sit on the board of is having its agm in a couple of weeks... in the newsletter they send out to the members, i noted that i am not listed on the slate for the upcoming year. yes, i had to step down from my current position, but i had thought i was going to take on another position. massive typographical error, or are MORE SINISTER FORCES AT WORK?

u/v

a word to the wise

no matter what you do, no matter how you may let yourself go, never, EVER have one of the following happen to you:

1) never get a horribly crippling bladder infection

and

2) never rupture a disc in your spine

medical science cannot satisfactorily define which of these conditions have befallen me, but suffice it to say that this is my first day not flat on my back in agonizing pain since last tuesday. i did, however, get to take a ride in an ambulance with a paramedic who decided to try his little standup routine out on me. it was almost worth the morphine i received at my destination.

fortunately, i have been able to spend over 1 full week trapped on the living room futon watching television. and i have several observations to make. as i'm off to work, i'll just comment on the good folks at american idol.

this year, instead of just letting bad people sing a few lines and get cut off, the bad people are getting to sing entire songs. all the bad people. whole songs. so we can all have time to think up a few juicy comments before we watch simon and randy blatantly laugh in these peoples' faces.

not only that, but i have noted that overweight men don't seem to get the weight comments that even mildly chubby (or just the non size-0) girls get. i mean, should simon cowell be telling 16 year old girls that they are "fat" on television? and come to think of it, since randy had his much-publicized weight-loss surgery and paula had her even more publicized eating disorder, shouldn't one or both of them be standing up about this issue?

hey, i'm in the biz myself, i know that appearance is an issue. but i think that either everyone should get the fat comments, or no one should. why is it cool for reuben to be big, but kelly clarkson has to skinnify herself?

anyhoo, off to work for another fulfilling 4-hour shift.

u/v

a new hero for our times

i remember in university, a girl i went to school with had a schtick, you know, how we all have our bits that we do, but hers was this hapless superhero called "MASTER OF THE OBVIOUS!!!" mostly he'd just kind of stride purposely into a room and state something... well... obvious.

the reason this comes to mind is that i was involved in making a short (read: 1 minute long) film this morning, which will theoretically be on Zed TV on CBC, for any Canadian viewers. and the director said something about people being able to view it on their cell phones/pda's. very hi-tech, very hip and happening with the youth culture, our CBC.

in any case, apart from lending my apartment for the interior locations (note: if anyone asks you to lend them your apartment for a film shoot, never do it. they will rearrange your furniture, traumatize your cat, and discover all sorts of embarrassing things like your boyfriend's multitude of candy wrappers, old christmas paper and the like when they move the couch.), i played the role of an innocent bystander who is inadvertently killed by a crumpled-up piece of paper thrown off a highrise balcony by a frustrated scriptwriter. this neccessarily involved numerous takes of me getting beaned with a paper ball, and hurling myself, unconscious, to the concrete.

for anyone unfamiliar with northern alberta, particularly this week's weather in northern alberta, today's temperatures reached a balmy high of -28C without the windchill. and so there we were, camera, boom, reflective silver disc-thingy, standing in the snow out front of my building, taking turns knocking me down with wadded up paper.

buses were slowing down. traffic was honking. oh, yeah. check out the big movie stars-- maybe they're filming a BRICK COMMERCIAL! there was a guy in yellow who would NOT GO AWAY. he kept asking questions. i think he even asked if we were making a porn. yeah, a really AWESOME FREAKING PORN MOVIE. it's called Polar Necrophiliacs 3:Flesh for Fantasy-- the action's just starting when i hit the ground!

so for one particular shot, the other actor had to run past my motionless body. this meant that i had to lie down on the (cold cold) sidewalk. no problem. it was actually fun. but we had to keep waiting while the general public walked by. so there i am, lying there, eyes closed, and this woman walks by. i just see her fur-covered boots, i have no idea what she looks like. but she says in this CLASSIC falsetto voice "must be cold!".

Must be cold.

cold?

MASTER OF THE OBVIOUS!!!

u/v

Thank you, Royal Bank.

you can read more here, but i'll quote the relevant bits. this is the advice that my financial institution directs me to when i ask them for guidance in paying back my massive student loans:


"Let's take a look at different approaches to paying back your student loan with the following examples:
Danielle and Gordon just graduated in the same class with a degree in engineering. They've both found jobs in their field with about the same salaries - just over $40,000. Each of them has approximately $16,000 in student loans, but they're managing their loan repayments in totally different ways.
Danielle plans to pay off the entire loan in four years, which means hefty monthly payments of $400. To fit these payments in her budget, she'll be living with a roommate in a small apartment and hold off any big purchases, like a car."

hmmm that seems plenty realistic to me. oh, except for the fact that if my entry-level job paid JUST OVER $40,000 a YEAR, i probably wouldn't be asking my bank for $%#&^* suggestions!!!

in the real world, the world where i've been paying the royal bank an amount equivalent to my rent each month for 4 years, their little online pamphlet might read something like this:

"uberviolet just graduated with a degree in theatre. since there are no jobs to be had in her industry, her first job out of school pays $8/hour, and she photocopies papers and takes abuse from screaming lawyers all day. uberviolet has approximately $30,000 in student loans, and the royal bank has suggested that she should investigate time travel and go back to 1994 and apply to engineering schools. in order to manage the non-negotiable $360 a month payments she must make for the next 9 years, uberviolet has decided to give up the following: brand name food, main courses not containing the name Ramen, new clothes, non-roommate living situations, any hope of having a credit card, a car, or owning property. grateful for her education, uberviolet accepts the crushing monthly payments, and the disdain of the Royal Bank Student Loan Centre customer service reps who suggest that she either take out a bank loan to pay her student loan, or sharply remind her that it is illegal for those with government student loans to declare bankruptcy. because obviously, someone who pays regularly for years and calls in to try to negotiate something less crushing must obviously be thinking of making a break for the sweet, sweet, credit-mashing 7 year relief of total bankruptcy."

Royal Bank, i salute you. i am confident that your net income for the year ended Oct. 31, 2004 of $2,839 million is going towards maintaining the level of customer service i have come to expect after years of dealing with you. after reading your 4th quarter revenues, i can understand that it must be vitally important to the Royal Bank machine for me to pay $331 a month and not the manageable $300 i requested.

thank you, Royal Bank, for making me realize what it truly is to be a part of something greater than myself.

thank you.

u/v

where else?

i've just learned that in addition to their newly acquired sea lion exhibit, that west edmonton mall plans to add an indoor zoo to their roster of the flabby, the oversized, the incredibly poor taste attractions.

have they learned anything? nothing from Howard and his poor deceased dolphin friends? i mean, sure, we can probably convince ourselves that at some level, perhaps dolphins enjoy performing for our whims, enjoy having pennies pitched into their tank, enjoy watching the submarines and drowned drunkards float by in the lagoon. but sea lions? a zoo? what's next? monkey personal shoppers? the smell alone will be enough to drive shoppers to phase 8 or whatever phase they're at now.

so before they install the grand funk of indoor animal cruelty, perhaps they could consider the countless other attractions which could be added to the mall which wouldn't involve imprisoning our jungle friends...

1) wax museum
2) a decent mini-putt course, with working windmills. and chomping monkey heads!
3) turn the entire ghost-town section into a TRON-inspired laser-tag
4) a... ahem... gentlemen's club
5) human daredevils
6) lego town. or duplo town. whatever.
7) put some money into your amusement park, already!
8) clean up the numerous and skanky food courts.
9) rehab centre for all the burnouts who spend the day munching at the mall. see (8).
10)hunting ground for the most dangerous game... man.
11) one word: rollerball.
12) skate park
13) mechanical bull riding, 24-7.
14) freak show
15) world's largest contained indoor tire fire
16) robot wars

and the list goes on. the point is, that if you want to draw people to your mall, you should probably consider something NEW, and something that won't draw protest. or, if you must have animals, why not have the world's largest indoor ant farm? perhaps we could purchase some genetically modified ants who could crawl through habitrail tunnels, serving their queen for our amusement.

ants whose genetically modified exoskeletons would be impermeable to pennies tossed by yahoos whose definition of wit is, well.. tossing pennies at things.

u/v

when you're on a holiday...

well, it's official: the new "Holiday Spiced Pepsi" makes an excellent keyboard cleaner! i discovered this after Smudge knocked over J's glass of said beverage all over the computer. much panic ensued, but my keyboard has never been cleaner, or shinier. seriously, i think this is the stuff that the Dudes At Dell use in the factory.

no ill effects so far, in any case: none of the more popular Wheel Of Fortune letters are sticking, but the true test will be when we get into the more exotic letters that are hardly ever used.

the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog's back.

nope, everything's coming up holiday spiced pepsi!

genius!

i've been looking for a blog i was reading with no success. it was hilarious. the last entry was a tragically true tale of a friend's b/f accidentally killing a pet hedgehog while in a drug-induced haze, and then the hedgehog's owner having to cremate the poor sucker on a hibachi or something. possibly while also in a drug-induced haze. seriously. but then i got distracted when she linked to the peterpan guy's page and i accidentally closed the window. so since then, i 've been wandering through pages of people's poetry, people's elegies to relationships, political manifestoes, cool skins, annoying trance music, and statements of purpose.

i have no statement of purpose.

unless, of course, you want to contact Pepsi and tell them how wicked their product is at cleaning keyboards. they could probably use the confidence boost, judging by the lack of self-esteem demonstrated on pepsi.com.

i went to the website to do just that, and was treated to a conversation with Lisa, the Pepsi World help center virtual representative. basically, you just type in your questions, and she answers them. obviously, Pepsi isn't just for cleaning your keyboards anymore: it's on the cutting edge of AI technologies. here's an excerpt of our interview:

u/v: how is it that your product is so awesome at cleaning my keyboard?

lisa: it is pretty neat, all right.

u/v: no, seriously, who came up with the idea?

lisa: oh yes... way!

u/v: what the hell are you talking about?

lisa: Oh, I'm sorry if my response did not meet your needs. Please narrow the subject down by rephrasing your question so that I can be of better help this time.

u/v: no problem, lisa... so what are you doing later?

lisa: I'm sorry, my schedule is booked 24/7. Besides, I'm a computer program, silly.

u/v: pretty darn clever, you little minx. give me free pepsi!

lisa: oh. ok.

u/v: not too bright, eh?

lisa: My name is Lisa and I'm a computer program designed to simulate a human customer service representative. People ask me tons of questions and I do my best to answer them. Oh, and the only place you will ever see me is on this site because I just love this place!

u/v: oh. ok.


and so you see, that's pretty much what our interview was like. i guess i'm not much of an investigative journalist. maybe next post i should do a hard-hitting story on askjeeves.com. dish the dirt and all that.

u/v

we salute you, ABC

"mommy, our new house smells like back bacon!"

"i can't get into my room, it's full of labatt 50 bottles. and they're STUBBIES!"

these might have been the wails of the Imbriani family, were it not for the quick thinking of the cast and crew of ABC's Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Yes, it seems that they had ordered some sort of prefab house from a CANADIAN company, and the CANADIAN contractor was not aware that the CANADIAN (read:inferior) building codes were not the same as the american building codes. the preproduction scene where the crew and producers themselves reviewed said building codes with the contractor must have been cut for time. in the words of Sears-brand hottie Ty Pennington "the Canadian has said Au Revoir"-- after the contractor delivered his stuff as promised and left. fortunately this was an opportunity for great drama, as Ty and the gang called in a no-nonsense crew of chest-thumping American contractors, who made no bones about mentioning every few minutes how terrible the CANADIAN work was. in fact, it seems like anytime ANYTHING went wrong it was the CANADIAN'S FAULT. don't worry, it all turned out in the end for the family, and the house looked great, and the designers all cried, as usual, and everyone seems to feel pretty satisfied with themselves. however, i couldn't help but notice that a couple of weeks ago, when there was an entire WORK CREW that just didn't SHOW UP for work, no matter that the poor family of conjoined twins and quadruple amputees wouldn't have their walk-in sauna, no one seemed to mention that they were americans, or greeks, or mexicans, or italians, or whatever. actually, no one even referred to them as "those jerks who didn't show up".

so, congratulations, ABC, for taking your feel-good hit and using it to take oh-so-clever jibes at your neighbors to the north. especially when they were trying to help out. i bet old walt would be proud.

incidentally, if you want to contact abc and talk about canada, or ty's abs, or anything else that strikes your fancy, you can do so at: netaudr@abc.com .

u/v

now the seats are all empty...

well, not quite yet. many of the seats are full. we have our best house of the night, on this, our last night, so i'm actually feeling a little bit nervous about going on. even though i have a ridiculously tiny part. however.

working again for 9 days straight before my next break. no matter how hard i try, i never get over how petty, spiteful, childish, and downright rude people can be, especially to complete strangers. and i mean, i think i have some pretty excellent empathy skills happening here. but seriously, some of these folks just wear me down. particularly the people who continue to argue with you even AFTER you've apoligized, fixed the problem, explained how you've fixed the problem, and advised them of what kind of results they can expect to see. like they call in to scream "listen to me!!!" and they're screaming so loud they can't hear you say "i hear you!" but some people are just never happy, i guess.

i am very hungry. how am i to use that in my performance tonight?

u/v

a day of rest

well, back at the show. today we have 5. 3 have paid, 2 are comps. today was to have been a day off, but we ended up going to the hospital super early in the morning, because J hurt his wrist during the show last night, and we were worried that it might be broken. it wasn't, and when we went home to watch the dog show and chill out on the couch, i thought a lovely treat might be to have some candy, specifically some swedish berries. so J is making some silly noises at Smudge, when suddenly there is a crunching sound. now we all know that swedish berries don't make that sound. what makes that sound? a tooth falling apart. yes, the filling is still there, but the tooth that surrounded it has just crumbled away. fortunately for him it's not visible when he smiles or talks, but it's pretty upsetting and likely to be upsetting, just the same.
so, today, i didn't get much accomplished. i don't think my next day off is for another 8 days. sigh. but that's life, i suppose.

hey, creepy guy lurking around outside the theatre...

cool.

u/v

love's labours...

i'm sitting at the moment backstage at the show, waiting for the first two plays to come to their blissful conclusion. we are in a tiny theatre in a questionable neighborhood that no one, particularly audiences, seems to be able to find. we have a house of three people. the only reason we're doing the show tonight is that two of said audience members got lost on their way here last night and showed up about halfway through the night. they were prepaids. we need their $12 a head.

it has been said that on nights like this, you do this for the art. i have about 14 1/2 lines and exist solely to move furniture about. still, i suppose this is as good a time as any to find the art in this, too. after all, there must be art in everything, somewhere.

an hour or more before we begin the show i'm in.

a whole hour.

eep.

u/v

if i could turn back time...

it's one of those overcast, likely to snow days here, and i'm in a retrospective mood. but instead of reviewing my greatest hits, i seem to be looking at the b-reel. while looking for an old friend from university online (impossible, all my friends have hopelessly common wasp-ish names), i was searching back through their postgraduate alma maters, and tracking the progress of their careers since we last met. oh, what a mistake!

i don't know if it's because this is my first day off in 8 days, or if it's some kind of chemical in the water, or what, but the green eye of envy has settled itself on me. as i dip my toe in the turtle pool of regret and lost dreams. whatever.

WHINE ALERT:

the most imaginative thing that i've done recently is speculate with J about whether or not the "private name" that's been calling at 8am this week is the student loan people wanting to know when i'm planning on paying them. speaking of which, haven't they ever heard of voice mail? if it is them, that is. well, it probably is. but for the several thousand dollars of interest i'm paying them, i think they could probably take the 5 seconds to leave a voice mail so i can call them back. dinks.

i digress. i'm sure my friends aren't having any easier a time of it than i am. from what i recall, unless they've all undergone massive personality restructuring through alien abduction, they were just as insecure about this stuff as i am.

maybe it's because i'm living in a province where the recent election was a big frigging JOKE and my vote, while for a winning socialist candidate, felt somewhat pointless nonetheless.

or maybe i'm just grumpy today.

i'm going to go drink some ginger ale.

you go here. it'll cheer you up.

u/v

ps- smudge (the kitten) is here. he is sort of a jerk! but he is very cute all the same.

the buckeye state?

can't someone just win this thing? i've been watching like, 7 straight hours of election coverage, and i think the honeymoon's over. and of course, they're still projecting every possible combination of states for kerry to somehow conceivably win this thing.

sigh.

2 things i don't understand:

1) the absentee ballots: do they start counting them before election day? if they don't, couldn't they? i mean, if they can keep things like the oscar winners secret, surely security for the absentee ballots really shouldn't be that much of a problem.

2) people complain about bush. they complain about the war he led them into. they think he's doing a crap job with the economy, with the war on the concept of terror, with whatever you choose to name. and yet, i look at the electoral map and i see so much red. i don't get it.

on the recipe front, i finally got up the courage to buy some nutritional yeast flakes. i have been reading about them and how vegans use them to lend a cheesy flavour to things. plus you can make fake cheese sauce, mac & cheese, etc. i have to say that what i made looked more like a mustard gravy than kd, but it sure did taste like cheese!!! just a couple of adjustments i think i have to make. why do so many veg dishes have weird aftertastes? ok, just the ones involving soy. and that's a soy aftertaste.

u/v

glen or glenda?

i almost forgot...

it turns out that Smudge is not a girl at all.

Smudge is a BOY!!!

this is difficult to adjust to in my mind. j points out that he will be easier and cheaper to get fixed, which is true. his parents are picking the kitten up today, and will keep him at least until we both get back from the weekend.

a boy!

u/v

Billionaires For Bush

Billionaires For Bush

Has anyone else seen this? I saw a video on them last night and almost wet my pants I was laughing so hard. They are so brilliant, I wish I had seen them sooner. I would have started up a chapter here. There's even a Billionaires' Chapter in Seoul, Korea!

I cannot wait until the polls close. I have the day off. I am doing laundry and writing today. And packing to go to Vancouver thursday morning.

Eastern state polls start closing at 5pm MT....

Gonna make some popcorn.

In other news, J asked me if his DC Encyclopedia of Comic Characters or whatever it's called arrives, could I please walk to the post office and get it? sigh. it's cold out.

u/v

conquering the dutch

yes, it's finally happened. v at the Big House's request for a copy of the VermeerPlay has finally caused me to drag out the many volumes of drafts and notes and sit down to try and put a clean copy onto the hard drive of my computer. (the previous copy was erased in the horrible not-to-be-spoken-of Demagnetization2002) and needless to say i was procrastinating, even though i had set aside some alone time today, and the ever-soothing Radiohead was playing.

then, i realized that i was afraid of a stack of paper. not to mention a stack of paper that I WROTE. and since i think i'm a loser about 97% of the time, chances are i could very well have been a loser during the time i wrote the stack of paper. so odds are, there wasn't much to be afraid of. all i needed to do was quit waffling over "the best way to approach it" and just type the damn thing and if an idea occurred to me in the moment, then just put it in.

am i done?

no way in hell.

am i 4 scenes in?

you bet!

have i made changes already?

you know it.

will i finish a copy to give to the V-man?

i'm shooting for this week...



in other news...

our cable provider (after responding to my email inquiry that they had no plans to add this channel in the near future) has suddenly added Scream TV to the digital lineup, which i inadvertently discovered while flipping last night. all horror movies all the time? am i there!

and tonight's vegetarian experiment is:Peas, Potato and Eggplant Curry mmmm mmmm curry. Must finish my planned amount of scenes for today and then get to the grocery store to pick up spices.

u/v

as i speak to the pompitous of love...

thanks for the suggestions, one and all...

when it came down to brass tacks, i elected to wear the following:

a black and silver skirt
a black cowboy shirt with red shiny buttons and red butterflies
some shiny silver uh... bobbles? on springs that you wear attached to a headband
the bobbles had long strings of tinsel hanging down from them.

what was i?

a space cowboy.

but some people call me maurice...

u/v

in search of ideas...

if anyone actually still reads this i need some quick ideas for a costume for tomorrow. i believe we are expected to dress up at work. i noticed j has a big red flannel shirt, and my first thought was:

lumberjack vampire?

just a little makeup and we're on our way. does this sound acceptable? anyone else have any ideas?

u/v

i make widows cry

i do.

today at work, i informed a recent widow that i would be unable to continue to send the phone bill to her deceased husband, as for legal purposes, we can only bill living people. i did put it in a more sensitive manner, but she became angry and tore a strip off of me and accused me personally of trying to make her life more difficult. i suppose of all the people who behaved like utter dicks to me today, i can sympathize with her.

in other news, i discovered a new subculture/fetish today...

go here but be warned: ye will see the mightiest and lowliest of creatures, put online for your judgement.

to bed now,

u/v

a certain someone...

who shall remain nameless (one day i should just name names. or i should assign pictures to everyone i'm talking about. or mathematical symbols. Dr.Matt? is there a mathematical symbol specific enough to represent someone who is so jittery and frustrating and maddening as to be the world's worst caffeine addict and the world's worst pothead at the same time? pi isn't going to cut it, Dr. Matt.)

in any case, not pi suggested a meeting to plan a certain writing competition sponsored by a certain organization on whose board i sit. after which, he was incommunicado. i have a date, and a possible time, which has been agreed upon by other attendees. however, we can't really action anything without not pi, yet we have no idea if he's going to show up tonight.

maddening.

BENRIK LIMITED

BENRIK LIMITED

The new diary is out!

I want it SOOOOO much. I gave Dr. Matt a copy of last year's edition for Christmas, but who knows if he derived any benefit from it?

u/v

everyone i talk to is a deadbeat

no, that's not an ironic title. today sucks at work. everyone i talk to is some kind of deadbeat. or a jerk. or a screamer. the list goes on.

in other news, i have to attend a board meeting of an arts advocacy association that i'm a member of... i sit on the board, for whatever prestige that may be worth. it seems that a certain artist is accusing us of being unsupportive of one particular format, but really insinuating that we are not supporting him in particular in his endeavours. he has written us an especially snooty and inflammatory letter that i wish i could post here, but have elected not to.

let's just say that he feels that special exceptions need to be made for him in particular because he is an important person, and the rest of us are not.

have i mentioned that artists can be jerks, too? oh yeah, big time. jerky jerk jerks.

speaking of which, i have another 1 1/2 hours of phones to answer. joy.

u/v

blog this

can it really be so long since i've posted anything? am i a just a big loser unable to commit even to my online ramblings?

it's possible.

let's see, what can i add here to somehow redeem myself and yet still get to work on time...

we went and saw our kitten! she is black fading to gray around her tail. and she has white feet. i think we are calling her Smudge.

i went to see Gomez last weekend... it was weird being at a concert where i didn't know any of the songs (J's favourite band). good show, though. also, this guy who was COMPLETELY baked came and sat next to me... and pulled out a harmonica. now, there weren't any harmonicas being played on stage, or anywhere else in the crowd for that matter, and i am not sure i have ever seen such wildly inappropriate behaviour. at first we thought he was miming a harmonica (perhaps even more wildly inappropriate than what was actually going on), but then we heard the strains of Stoney jamming along with Gomez. and howling out song requests.

ok, my time is now up. work time now.

u/v

When you've read the Geeks...

Table for one 

be sure to visit this site. hilarious. devious. dastardly.

decidedly delicious.

u/v

Out, out, damned bot!

it seems like what shall hereafter be referred to as The Night of Many Scans and Swears is finally over. all thanks to the wonderful, (sob) wonderful information found at Majorgeeks.com (see below). it is my site of the day. it is my site of all days to come, as long as that freakin' about:blank virus (or whatever) doesn't come back. as long as i am popup free, i am free and clear.

yes, it is almost worth having 3 hours of sleep just to realize that the computer is no longer sick.

i guess J was mentioning it at work today, (what with his computer-herpes-type guilt from being such a compulsive ad-clicker) and the lady he was talking to said:

"oh yes, i heard there's a virus going around from microsoft."

to which J replied:

"um... well, i think there are a couple of different viruses, and besides--"

to which the crazy lady replied:

"yes, what you need to do is go to microsoft and download some anti-virus software."

if only it had been that easy to clean out all the crap.

i do like the idea of microsoft actually personally infecting its users with viruses and then offering them the antidote, though. the conspiracy theory part of my brain is racing to latch on to that idea, while the more rational part of my brain tells me to go make lemonade and watch the simpsons.

u/v

The few, the proud, the Geeks. 

Say it ain't soy...

VegWeb - vegan/vegetarian recipes, personals and more

This is a terrific site that I happened upon today while seeking out a recipe that would allow me to create fettucine alfredo for the boy who can't have dairy. I'm going to try a recipe involving coconut milk and soy parm tomorrow after work - wish me luck! If this doesn't work, I'll not only have ruined a whole truckload of pasta, but I'll be on my way back to the store for more soy products to try, try again.

Lots of yummy looking stuff here, though. Check it out!

u/v

the thrill is gone...

can i get a booooooooooooo for getting up for work at 5:30 am?

perhaps i should have taken the individually-spaced days off; two days in a row is just enough time for me to forget that i have a job to go back to, a job where people will yell things such as:

"i only got pages 1, 3 and 5 of my bill!"
"i don't care if it's been on my bill for the last six months, why didn't you check my bill for me?"

and so forth.

you see, and i do apologize if any of you have recently called in to bitch and moan at me, but the people i talk to, for the most part, aren't very bright. Stubborn? Yes. Loud? Blue-ribbon winning. Bright? Well...

My list is almost done. Yes, Sputnik 101 is almost ready to embark. I can't express how difficult it is to come up with 101 things that are worth listing down that i want to accomplish. I think i have something like 25 or 26 left to go. but i'm giving up for tonight.

as much as i hate to admit it, it's almost time for bed.

u/v

and i feel fine...

how do you think the world will end?

i know there are all kinds of schools of thought on this one, most of them amazingly summarized here. (very entertaining and informative reading if you get a chance.)

but barring any mass plague, meteor impact, ice age, or disaster like that, assuming that we somehow escape the odds and the planet manages to last to the end of the universe, assuming we (or some form of we) are still here, what do you think will happen at the very end?

the universe, everything, is continually expanding, slowing, cooling. drifting. anything we can observe is completely ephemeral, in the long haul, as what we are observing eludes us and outdistances us like a ghost. the prevailing theories seem to suggest that one day, the whole thing will either be thrown into reverse (when the universe can expand no longer, the big crunch), or that quite the opposite, a Phantom Energy pulling at the outer reaches of the universe will increase in force, until galaxies, stars, planets, and even atoms themselves are torn apart in mass destruction. And then, there are those who say that neither of those things will happen, that the universe will continue to quietly expand forever, and earth will continue to exist, barring some kind of close encounter with a meteor or a black hole.

there are theories that suggest that all possible outcomes may happen, may have happened, in several times, in parallel dimensions. where every possible choice we could have made is being made. where the world is ending, has ended, is just beginning.

in these dimensions, these other times, these phantom lives, if they exist, the universe still continues to expand in its own time, with all its components drifting farther and farther apart. a yearning, rootless state, we are constant travellers all, satellites without orbit, forever trying to bring order to a world that slips through our grasp as quickly as we can attempt to comprehend it.

u/v

give a little knit...

so with the previously mentioned $20 damage deposit awarded back to me for cleaning up the madam's shit, i recently purchased the most amazing book:

Stitch 'N Bitch: The Knitter's Handbook

run out and buy it. now. it proves that knitting is cool, and that you don't have to be relegated to making old-lady cardigans and berets in sensible colors (unless, of course, you want to). right now i'm working on the alien illusion scarf, which is coming along quite nicely.



a couple of nibbles about an old project have surfaced. the play i thought no one would buy has received interest from a most unlikely source. of course, i'm sure i've jinxed myself by even daring to mention it.

u/v

it makes the world go round

well, after putting it off forever, i've finally decided to bite the bullet and order my credit report from equifax. because as my bank told me, there may be information that needs correcting that would allow me to get my card increased. to finally be able to earn points towards the purchase of a new gm vehicle. to at last receive those 15 extra air miles per year, perhaps accumulating enough to fly my cadaver to a prime burial location by the time of my death.

i'm no financier, but imho, it could also be the massive student loan i'm currently paying that mucks things up.

yes, the mail holds many wondrous things as of late. for instance, due to the mess left by my former roommate, the amount of damage deposit i received back was a bank-blowing $21.73. correction: she and i each received $21.73.

no justice. absolutely no justice in this world.

ain't nothing like the real thing...

an interesting question has come to my attention...

blogs: distraction or 'real' writing?

i freely admit that this is more scrapbook of random observations and images than it is the next Long Day's Journey, but i have to say this amuses me. it keeps the words coming. to the point that my editor can jump for joy (well, perhaps just do some lunges in preparation for upcoming jumps), that i've actually started a draft of that article i've been promising him.

dare i say, when perusing my notes for said article, i even discovered some notes and a preliminary draft of my next play. and while i got stuck, i shopped around various sites online and realized there was a theatre company up here i have a contact with who may be interested in most recently produced blah blah blah.

the point being, i think i've just been in a holding pattern for the longest time. i'm used to being prolific, inspired, acclaimed, all those obnoxious things. instead i've been in the pit.

i guess this blog wouldn't qualify as literature. but it keeps things flowing. i'm quite proud of it, actually. i'm amazed at the terrific writers i read on blogger who keep their own sites. i want to be like them as much as i want to be like Wes Andersen or Charlie Kaufman or F. Scott Fitzgerald, or Jason Sherman or Morris Panych, etc., etc., etc.

a random search of eBay for "the real thing" brings up these 3 Kangaroo Scrotum Coin Purses for your perusal.

a random brain search brought this entry. and a note to self to treat all my writing like the real thing, paid, unpaid, produced, spec, or even these silly captions and whimsies.

u/v

been around the block

this post is dedicated to NKOTB. wherever you are, we salute you.



in fact, i'd like to salute the many, many blocks in the world, from Alphabet to New Kids on The. Chopping blocks, city blocks, hat blocks, mental blocks, and most importantly, WRITER'S BLOCK.

yes, i've progressed to reading about writer's block, and now, at this juncture, i am now apparently writing about it. or at least mentioning it. it all boils down to this: either i have no ideas and never will, or i am somehow so bound by perfectionism that i am paralzyed at the sight of a computer screen.

unless, i suppose, when it comes to pasting pictures in front of silly topics. that, i seem to be able to sporadically do. so, does this count?

let's say this counts.

in that case, the conclusion i have drawn about reading about writer's block is that while it may be comforting to realize that other people feel like this, these articles are generally filled with cheery admonitions to feel good about yourself, and to gosh darn it, just get out there and write! now, maybe i'm just not a gosh darn it cheery kind of person, but this stuff just depresses me even more.

so that's when the comparisons begin. oh my, yes. between me and all the other writers and screenwriters i love. and then the pity party really kicks into full gear.

and then i turn on Oprah and see that she is giving away new cars to each and every person in her studio audience today. and i realize that the answer is really quite simple.

there is no justice in this world. none whatsoever.

and that should just about clear things up.

u/v

the big sleep

it is only 9:44 pm and i am about to crash. this i blame solely on the neccessity of my having to get up at 5:30 every morning to go to work. my head is pounding, my vision is blurring. the half-assed yoga i did to refresh myself when i got home this afternoon seems like a ridiculous folly as stiffness begins to set in to these old bones.

a situation has come up. or rather, a situation is continuing to press itself upon my life. it poses the question: is it wrong to hold a grudge?

grudge: 'gr&j
to be unwilling to give or admit : give or allow reluctantly or resentfully

yes, the mysteriously messy madame x has returned from abroad, seemingly without knowledge or understanding of why taking 51 bags of her garbage out of an apartment, including the contents of a very mold-ensconced fridge, would cause me to be slightly frosty towards her.

i realize that rather than bitching about it to nobody in this blog, i should either confront the subject with her, or forget about her and move on with my life. instead, we had a rather terse, passive-aggressive conversation which ignored the issue on the surface, yet left the ending wide open for a more action-packed sequel.

would i be a bad buddhist to hold a grudge?

don't answer that.

but i really, really, really hated that garbage.

u/v

the crack of dawn

well, i can't believe i managed to get up at the eye-shattering hour of 5:35 am to go to work. i have a mere 6 minutes to spare before i must head out the door and to the bus to avoid being late for my 7am shift.

it's snowing here. for some reason winter has come overnight. yesterday everyone said "it won't stick if it does snow". it seems to be sticking pretty well. or else it's just an early september blizzard which will lead to mid-september flooding.

perhaps i'm just grouchy because of the early hour, or because i haven't finished unpacking, specifically, i haven't finished unpacking my shoes, so i'm off to work in extremely inappropriate footwear, considering the circumstances.



u/v

it is on

it is so on.

i confess to harbouring a healthy (?) amount of revenge fantasies, but i don't normally endorse carrying them out. nor do i support holding grudges of any sort.

but there is a man.

a tiny-minded, pompous, know-it-all of a man, hereafter known as The Big B. Yes, The Big B has gotten too far underneath my skin this time: my new mission in life is to have him kiss my ass. not just to have him kiss my ass, but to outdistance him in every possible area.

this means, whenever i feel too lazy to write, i must think of this mission.

is this petty?

does anyone care?

Big B, you have been warned. your time at the top of the pecking order is numbered.

oh, it is so on.

u/v

Mr. Monkey 

Mr. Monkey's word of the moment:

Gasthaus

in the middle of our street

well, we have officially moved in. the boxes may still be strewn throughout the living room, my clothes may still be in a huge pile in the bedroom, but the important thing is that we are moved in and our tv is now working.

the 2 questions that weigh most heavily on my mind, then, are these:

1) how have i lived this long without the use of a dishwasher?

and

2) what should i do about The Bride?

The Bride, formerly known as My Roommate, is the lady who left for more easterly parts and left me with an apartment full of crap that took a full week and over 50 garbage bags to clear out. this was referred to in a phone message as "there's a bit of a mess-- sorry." since then we have had no contact other than another phone message requesting me to dig out of the wreckage a couple of tiny items she apparently forgot to rescue from the rubble.

what is preventing me from moving on with my life? what? well, before i returned to discover the remains of the apartment in question (where my damage deposit still hangs in a kind of landlord-tenant limbo) i laid out a couple of hundred bucks and booked a week off of work to fly off and be a bridesmaid in her wedding.

now, although the seething white-hot rage has subsided somewhat, i'm still more angry than words can convey about this whole situation. the inconsiderate-ness. the amount of shit i went through with my crazy landlords. the boxes and bags of crap i sorted through to go to goodwill. the fact that i had to call on friends and parents of friends to drive things over to value village donations dept. at the last possible minute because i was at work. the whole kit and kaboodle.

the classy, grown-up thing to do would be to suck it up and go. yet i can't help but think that i can transfer this ticket towards my flight home at christmas. also, i'm just too damned pissed off to think about going to a wedding right now.

what to do, what to do...

house of pain

well, the countdown has begun-- i am entering what should be the final stages of packing today. that and cleaning out the horrible, horrible messes that await me at every turn.

moving day is tomorrow night after work... and my attitude has already moved from the optimistic "of course i'll get all the cleaning done, the walls washed, the windows scrubbed, the oven cleaned" to the more realistic "where can i hide this dirt?"

ah, well. back to the grind, i suppose. soon, it will all be over.

soooooooooon.

u/v

buried treasure and the decorating drag queen

i wish i knew what the hell was up with my formatting. oh, well.

the only good thing about digging through the ruins of this apartment, was that i found my cake decorating book, Frosting Fantasia, a delightful collection of disturbing cakes from the SunValley 1972 Cake Show. the reason i wanted to find it was that there's a woman who seems to be running the show, pictured in several candid shots... a very--handsome-- woman. then a few pages later, her husband is pictured-- and he looks remarkably like his wife.

as in, i wonder if cake decorating mavens of the early seventies used to whisper amongst themselves: "Is she, or isn't she?" or "why don't we ever see them together? they're like spiderman and Peter Parker!"

Polkaroo, indeed.

i have no idea if this is true or not. but now i can stare at the photos with my magnifying glass, inviting all who pass by to give their impressions. what a bizarre double life to lead. and if it is true, all because even in the sexy seventies, society couldn't accept a man who liked to decorate cakes. oh, and wear pantyhose.

i've been inspired by some other sites on the web, such as triplux and negroplease.com, who are running self-challenges of 101 things in 1001 days. essentially, the rule is that you list 101 things you want to accomplish in that timeline, and the wording must be specific, with no ambiguities. i'm going to start working on my own list, which i'm sure anyone who may be reading here will be thrilled about.

in the meantime, i must get back to packing.

remember: loose lips sink... cakes!



u/v

madder than a wet hen

exactly how mad would that be?

my guess is that for every one box of mine that i have packed, i have packed up 1 box of madam x's stuff to go to goodwill and 2 extremely full garbage bags of shit to be pitched. at the moment it's a horribly rainy day and i have had no sleep and it's my day off and i am sitting in the middle of a seemingly endless pile of crap that i have to finish packing by the end of the day or i am seriously screwed.

because tomorrow, the cleaning begins.

i ask you: who doesn't clean out the fridge when they leave? WHO?

oh sweet zombie jesus, this is turning into that whiny bitchy blog that i hate.

don't pity me, i pray you. just clean out your fridges. for the love of god, clean out your fridges.

u/v

moving on up...

this is me:

ok, actually, you need to picture me not so much caught on a string, but rather, packing boxes. also, i am slightly less squirrel-like, and somewhat more exhausted and annoyed.

something more like this:



or perhaps not.

in any case, did anyone miss me?

hello?

anyhoo, i am in the middle of moving to a lovely new abode. the only drawback is that my old roommate has already departed for her lovely new abode, leaving behind a ton of books, furniture, garbage, and other assorted worries. at the moment my time is split between working, packing, and desperately trying to clean up to avoid the wrath and ire of my crazy landlords.

in financial news, the person or persons who are apparently trying to scam the government out of tax money by convincing them that there is a textile import/export business under my name are back... i received a refund cheque yesterday for about $1800.00 . oddly, when i called, the fellow i spoke to seemed unconcerned. am i wrong to worry that someone is stealing my identity and setting up false textile import and export businesses? should i just cash the cheque anyway? is this one of those bizarre joe schmo reality shows where i'm being tested without knowing it?

of course, now that i suspect, i expect producers to come scurrying out of the woodwork any minute now.

any minute now...

the new apartment is close to the chinese superstore. we can celebrate our move-in with the manly snack of men's pocky:



men's pocky. so delicious. so strong. so... manly.

u/v

There's a man coming round taking names...

There's a fella in my neighborhood who's got a little homemade Charlie Brown-Lucy-style-advice-stand going on. He's trying to get people to sign his petition to allow both parents to have custody of their children. On the surface, a noble cause. I'd look him in the eye and tell him so myself, except I can't. Why, you may ask? Because beneath his sunglasses, his eyes are obscured behind a plastic, purple Lone Ranger mask. Why, you may ask?

I don't know.

The other day I passed him, and as he tried to solicit my signature, his dog, a lovely black Lab stood up from under the table and walked over to me, as if to say "Hi! My owner wears a plastic mask at all times! How are you? Help me!" The man immediately said to the dog: "That's it-- you're going into the truck."

Now, this was at about 10am, and I happen to know that when I walked by several hours later, the Purple Ranger was still there with his petition, masked and dogless. Which led me to believe that the mystery as to why he might not have custody of his kids might not be so much of a mystery. Think about it: pets are kind of like the starter kit for kids. Yes, they may not be quite so vocal about their desire for ice cream, and they may out of loyalty endure more torture before actually dying, but if you can't treat your dog decently on a 30-degree day... well, hopefully he took a lunch break and drove the poor pupster home, but I'm thinking that wasn't the case.