The WAMBAG

You’re welcome.

BBBBBRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

For three months, I’ve avoided looking too closely at the guts of the enormous Wordpress engine that drives our site. Things like that are sometimes better off untouched and unquestioned…I don’t know how it turns my words into posts, I just know it does. My own technical understanding of the Wordpress site architecture is that it largely resembles some huge subterranean cave powered by a massive magic crystal (I imagine the Worldstone Chamber from Diablo 2) with like a giant network cable leading out of it that connects to my computer, up above. And so all the bits and bytes I send to it are magically transmuted into these conveniently packaged single posts you see before you here.

(Yes, I am professionally employed to work with computers, why do you ask? Some say “application developer”…I say “software alchemist.”)

So for three months, I have feared of digging too greedily and too deep…of waking the darkness of Khazad-dûm. But fear will not rule us. It cannot. If there is ever any hope of moving beyond the standard, default Wordpress page template, then it must be done. I will not be the slave to some other douche’s ready-made template. This is no ordinary blog, and it will wear no ordinary template.

And so I dig.

The problem is also that I’m way too lazy to properly setup a real test environment on my local computer, so when I want to mess around with layouts, I’m really limited to only playing with the real, live version of the site. It’s a lot more automated with a lot more frills and such than our old Blogger site, and with that comes a lot more stuff to sort through. So occasionally, moving forward, I will be putting up a bogus front page to hide my infernal machinations.

Although chances are that you probably won’t even notice, because (a) no one actually ever visits this site, so there will be nobody to notice anything, and (b) I don’t think I’ve ever done any work on this website at a time earlier (later?) than 2:00 AM. The past couple changes have been all-nighter efforts, abortions of web and graphic design animated into undeath from a mix of equal parts insomnia and boredom. This next one will likely follow the same formula as well.

Maybe I will change the colours.

- The following are quick news articles that can only be unique to Smalltown, Ontario…Man sends proposal postcard to wrong address (WHY IS THIS NEWS), Bear has jar on head, can’t eat or drink (that is just plain funny), and Man jailed for assaulting ex with poutine (should be assault with a deadly weapon because it’s so dangerously delicious).

EDIT: BREAKING NEWS, IN A FOLLOW-UP TO OUR BEAR STORY…Bear may have broken free of jar. From our very own Toronto Star, no less. What the fuck, people!?!

- Brostitutes is one of those ideas, that when you hear about it, you’re surprised that it hasn’t already been done. Tim Roth as the he-bitch-man-slapper, goddammit, it works so well. This was essentially my life through most of university…except I did it for free back then. How else do you think I started watching UFC and can name more than five NFL teams?

- They’re calling this a genetic miracle, but when two black people give birth to a white baby, I’m thinking that Occam’s razor has to at least be in the conversation. I don’t know if that’s just my own horrible cynical nature speaking, but I mean…come on, something’s wacky going on. This story on the other hand…this one just creeps me out. How!?! Can you imagine the prospect of having a twin sibling of another race? The social dynamics of that family…two girls, two boys…half black, half white…I can’t even begin to speculate.

Follow-up thought: If it turned out I had killed my white twin brother in the womb, like in some sort of John Constantine/Charles Xavier thing that permanently screwed with my destiny…I don’t think that would surprise me at all. Maybe this world’s Choking Yak was destined to be white, maybe that’s why the world is so fucking crazy the way it is today.

- Whoo, check these neato Mass Effect DC Direct figures from Comic-Con. At first I was surprised that they didn’t have a toy for Commander Shepard…until I realized that I just didn’t recognize him because I play a customized female Commander Shepard. Wacky dacky! It’s weird though, how come we just started at Mass Effect 2? I want some Ashley Williams or Wrex figures. (Kaidan can go suck a dick though, I left him to die every single time.) And these Mass Effect 2 figures are neat, but no Miranda Lawson!?! Maybe they want her to headline the next wave. Let’s hope that has a Samara/Morinth figure too. Have I already revealed myself as too hardcore of a Mass Effect fan? Hmm, yes, maybe. So should I probably not continue to gush about yet another Mass Effect DLC in which you get to team up again with Liara T’Soni, my lesbian alien lover. God, the Shadow Broker…I’ve wanted a shot at that dude for years, this is glorious. …oops, too late, I’ve gushed.

- What, apparently fake dating site profiles are illegal now? NO! Fortunately though…only in Australia. But who wants to live in such a backwards country anyway? Now instead of hooking up with fake people online, Australians will be forced to hook up in more conventional, traditional ways…like with real sheep, in barns.

“I’m a person. Bret’s a person. You’re a person. That person over there is a person. And each person deserves to be treated like a person.”
“That’s a great speech. Too bad New Zealanders are a bunch of cocky a-holes descended from criminals and retarded monkeys.”
“No you’re thinking of Australians.”

So I’m assuming the entire readership of this site has gone and watched the craziest movie of 2010 already, right? Otherwise, you should stop reading, because I’m going to ruin it for you right here…

Marmaduke does indeed end up getting together with Mazie at the end.

It’s a brilliant story, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t keep quiet about it. Now that it’s out of my system, we go onto the links!

- Here is an enormously entertaining video of singer/songwriter/object of my high school obsession Jewel, in which she disguises herself to go undercover and sing her own songs at a karaoke bar. I have to admit, “Karen” is kind of hot too…although really just because she sings as well as Jewel (because she is Jewel)…which is really pretty much the only reason I am attracted to Jewel as well.

Next, LeBron should follow suit by putting on a disguise and trying out for Cleveland’s summer league team. Man, that is sneaky.

- On the other hand, probably not a great idea to join a table tennis tournament if you are collecting disability for cerebral palsy. Not very sneaky at all. Although…it makes no mention about how good he actually was. What if he just sucked, because he really did have it? What, just because I have cerebral palsy I cannot participate in table tennis tournaments? Bullshit!

(BONUS: Here is probably the weirdest and most cryptically short news article you will read…this week.)

- Now that Inception has come and gone, I am nominating this trailer for God of War as the next one on the docket. I don’t know if this is a parody of hipster indie films or a parody of parodies of hipster indie films…like have we seen enough of these parodies already, and their formula has been so well defined at this point that they have gone off and formed their own genre already? I don’t even know anymore, there’s too many levels to this idea for my brain to wrap around. I know the incestuous plot description is a play on Wes Anderson, but this trailer is clearly a lazy rip off of Garden State…I don’t know why everyone’s saying this is a Wes Anderson parody. It’s nothing like it.

…or is it? I don’t know anymore, I think I’ve overdosed.

- Now that we have finally all seen the movie, I have collected some additional reading to round out your Inception experience. Obviously, this will be full of nothing but spoilers, so if you haven’t watched Inception yet, I would highly suggest you go out to your nearest local cinema, where you can beg forgiveness from the Movie Gods and for them to spare you from their wrath, for they are most receptive to your prayers at such shrines. Or if there is a convenient showtime for you, you can also just go and watch the movie there as well. Here is a rather interesting interview with Dileep Rao, where he speaks to some of the plot ambiguities throughout the movie.

I am personally of the belief that the movie should just be taken at face value, and that any additional theories as to how there was inception happening within the inception, or if the whole thing was a dream, or anything along those lines are really just theoretical exercises for our own, considerable, amusement. Did those things actually happen in the “official” canon of the movie’s plot? I don’t know…the ideas seem possible, but they also seem to be a bit of a reach, almost like explaining extra things and adding complexity to the movie just for the sake of doing it. Rao notes those extra theories as trying to justify ideas with negative evidence, in essence, trying to prove something by asking that the burden of proof be to disprove it. Like, in a completely distorted and exaggerated example, trying to assert that Albert Einstein was secretly a child molester by asking “How do you know for sure that he WASN’T a child molester?”

The coolest thing about the movie to me, was while people all over are (still) arguing about what actually happens at the end…it’s an entirely refreshing notion to consider that it doesn’t even matter. But it’s a good read regardless if you still have outstanding questions about the movie or not. Really, any excuse to discuss and revisit this movie is a welcome one, and it is a continuing testament to the depth and complexity of the script that it can even elicit so much discussion in the first place.

That, or the movie was just really fucking confusing, which is a definite possibility as well.

- Finally, regarding dreams…here is mine, once again revitalized. God bless you, Capcom. Keep trying. Keep trying until you succeed. And the more spectacular failures along the way, the better. Although…to be honest, I would have probably rathered this to be announced at Comic-Con 2010. So many people there that share my enthusiasm for sequel plans too…warms my heart.

Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?

Factory – Band Of Horses

Despite the rash of sports related posts that have come up in the last few weeks, I feel it’s only logical for me to give my two cents regarding the “LeBron to Miami” story. I had actually begun a treatise on the nature of the superstar athlete and modern idolatry. I wanted to paint the portrait of a young man who has lived the majority of his life removed from what you and I consider to be reality. My heart broke upon witnessing the rampant, childish cynicism that emanated from fans, fellow players and journalists when they found out that LeBron James wasn’t going to play by their rules; that he didn’t care about living up to their expectations. This post was not only going to be an indictment of the sporting world, but a call to arms against the negativity that is poisoning society. It just seems to me like people need some help with perspective every now and then. Right, Dwyane?

It’s going to seem like the world has crashed down. You all are going to make it seem like the World Trade has just went down again.

*ahem* Impassioned post now on hold pending further review.

*****

Look, I’m not good with big social gatherings. That’s just not who I am. Allow me to use the wisdom of Seinfeld to explain how I feel about schmoozing:

Elaine: Yeah, well, he’s in perfect health. He works out, he’s vibrant. You’d
really like him.
Jerry: Why do people always say that? I hate everyone, why would I like him?

I know, right? Yet somehow, some way, on the rare occasion that I venture into the party world I end up being introduced to a handful of people who (while I’m sure they’re perfectly lovely individuals) I want nothing to do with. It’s not always necessarily about them either as I hate having to answer questions about my self and what I do and blah blah blah. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sound of my own voice as much as anybody else, just as long as I’m not using it to talk about me.

A couple of incidents rattled me on Saturday and had me questioning how I project myself in public. Before going to Julius’ party, I stopped at the Food Basics where I used to work to pick up some munchies. Nobody I know works there anymore, or so I thought. My old co-worker/manager Harmeet happened to be working the register at the line I was in and before I knew it, she had recognized me and started busting my chops about how I never visit. Apparently, she hadn’t seen me in four years. Sounds about right. I laughed awkwardly, trying to get away from the situation, but she continued to ask questions about what I was up to and, of course, why I was never around. Clearly noticing my embarrassment, she began to speak to the customer behind me.

I used to work with this guy every day and then he quit and we never see him anymore! Can you believe that? How rude is that?

The whole time, I can feel my face turning slightly red. It’s like I just drank a quarter pint of beer. I stumble and stammer about, doling out the usual “I’m between things” schtick and she doesn’t seem to be buying it. Even though we’re both having a laugh about it, I can tell that there is some genuine aggravation, even hurt, over my lack of correspondence. We talk for a couple of minutes and I tell her that I’m late for a party, conveniently forgetting to leave any contact information. That was a close one.

*****

Julius’ house is a conversational minefield as soon as I enter the backyard. I see people who I don’t want to talk to…hell, I see people I know who I don’t want to talk to. It behooves me to get to Julius as quickly as possible, or any other friend that I can stick to so as to avoid having to say anything of actual substance. Everything goes pretty well, truth be told. I spent quite a bit of time trying to flirt with Annabella, which is unfortunate because she’s apparently dating a guy who was standing around the whole time and I didn’t notice until the end of the night. Ah well, he seemed like a boring bastard anyway.

Like I said, I stick to people I know and don’t dislike. With Julius mostly unavailable, that meant it was usually Annabella, David, David’s sister Christina, Danny, Wendy and this girl named Linda who apparently have never mentioned in this blog before despite the fact that we’ve been acquainted since university. Michelle was there, but left soon after I arrived. She knows I hate people and I’ll bet she had a good laugh knowing that it takes all of my willpower to not start committing murder when in the midst of a large group. She’s sick like that.

With no other recourse and with innocent lives at stake, I responded the only way I know how: Jokes. Lots of jokes. Once you get past the “hellos and how are yous”, people suddenly want to know everything about you and it’s at that point that I become Shecky Lee! I make cracks about how I’m an English Major and how much of a loser I am and how my dad is gay and it’s all a good laugh. Wokka wokka wokka! Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing people laugh, especially women, but at times I feel like genuine human interaction is beyond me. A hot babe makes eye contact and before you know it I’m a pair of fucking Groucho glasses.

After everything settled down, Linda, Annabella and a couple of dudes decided we should watch a movie. I ended up being Linda’s chauffeur for the night, which wasn’t a problem for me except for the terrifying fear that grips me whenever I’m a) driving with someone I don’t know that well and b) driving around an area I don’t know that well. We chitted and chatted and it was enjoyable if I’m being perfectly honest. She mentioned how we’d never really spoken before and I responded with my usual canned, self-deprecating response: Well, now you can see that you weren’t missing much. I don’t remember her laughing.

After watching Despicable Me (see what I did there?), I took Linda back to her place and we spent some time dipping our feet in the pool in her apartment. The atmosphere was undeniably romantic and any normal man would surely have gotten at least a BJ that night, but, dear reader, you know that I am the World’s Most Dickless Man so obviously nothing of the sort happened. Instead, I couldn’t seem to stop…acting like such…a fucking…BITCH. I’m not saying she was all over me or anything, but again, a modestly charming guy could have made something of the…situation. I’m not going to lose sleep over it. She’s a nice girl and I’m thinking I might call her again sometime soon.

What really bugged me was that she told me she thought I was an asshole. Okay, that’s not exactly the word that she used but unbeknownst to me I had been ignoring her whenever she spoke to me in the past. In my defense, she apparently thought that my name was “Charles” (I could pull that off) for the longest time, so I’m only partially to blame.

Regardless, the point of this story and this whole post is this: I have a simple theory. Every person has three major aspects.

Who we are, which has a lot to do with how other people see us whether we realize it or not.
Who we think we are, which has a lot to do with how we see other people whether we realize it or not.
Who we want to be, which only comes out in our best moments.

I clearly have a lot of work to do on all three counts.

*****

In what seemed like a no-brainer to me, Deadliest Warrior: The Game. FUCK yes!

Potential re-post here, but these damn school dreams are the worst.

If you enjoyed the ESPY skit that William posted in the last post, perhaps you might enjoy seeing Norm MacDonald’s monologue from some years back? Vintage Norm!

At one point in my life I had the notion of starting an MMA blog. Crazy, I know. I thought I might have compelling things to write about this growing sport, but I was also afraid I might just throw up a shitload of Bob Sapp links. If you’re not familiar with Bob Sapp, he’s a former football player turned pro wrestler turned kickboxer turned mixed martial artist turned actor…but most people in Japan just know him as the biggest black dude who ever lived. Here is his international songsation, It’s Sapp Time!. And here is selling pizza and gummy candy. Trust me, I am fully aware that posting crazy Japanese clips and commercials is one of the most played out things any English speaking blogger can do but…ah, fuck it here’s a Schick commercial with Wanderlei Silva and Mark Coleman. No homo.

All I ask of you is one thing… I ask this particularly of the young people who watch. Please don’t be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality and it doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you, amazing things will happen.

I know you’ve all been refreshing this page constantly all morning waiting to get my reactions to the Yunel Escobar trade. It’s a wicked smart trade, I love it. Alex Gonzalez was great this year, and I’m happy that he gets to participate in meaningful games this September with the Braves. But he’s 33 and was never part of our long term plans anyway, so this is a pretty decent deal for a talented young player currently at his lowest value. Yunel Escobar is essentially the shortstop version of Alex Rios (who, by the way, is killing it in Chicago this year) – all the talent in the world, questionable work ethic and suspected headcase, a lot of flash on the field. So it’s only a matter of time before Jays fans start killing him too, because the idiots here only appreciate grit and never talent. Escobar is also pretty much the opposite of Alex Gonzalez offensively – he’s got a superb career OBP of .370 whereas Gonzalez (despite his mind blowing 17 homers in half a season) is only getting on base at a .296 clip this year. Jays fans hate walks as well, so this is gonna be great.

Escobar’s only four months younger than Rios, although he will be cost controlled until 2013, only arbitration eligible for the first time this year. So no real financial risk if it turns out he’s a bust. The ultimate sell high, buy low move…Alex Anthopoulos is a pimp, I love this guy. Great job signing Alex Gonzalez (even though I hated it at the time) and great job flipping him as well.

Also, Hedo Turkuglo is officially out of town. I am walking on sunshine right now.

Oh wait, what? No one cares about sports? Okey doke, let’s move on.

- Okay, one more sports bit first before we truly move on…this is a clip from a Mariners game last week where Ichiro Suzuki bumps into a fan while trying to chase down a foul ball. Just once in my life, I wish I could get such a joyous reaction out of a white girl after elbowing her in the face, like Ichiro did. Just once. Also amusing to me…the Mariners radio crew once again unable to control their giggling, and the lack of expression from the friend next to her with the Mariners t-shirt, who is probably like inwardly livid with hatred and jealously – she’s probably the real hardcore Mariners fan (which is a punishment in itself) wondering why it wasn’t her in that seat and her getting all that awesome swag afterward. They probably never talked again after this game.

- Okay, okay, just one more sports bit. During last night’s ESPY Awards, Steve Carell and Paul Rudd host a “Decision” of their own. Reactions: First, that is a crazy Pau Gasol type beard on Paul Rudd. Wow, where did that come from? Second, the Bloomin’ Onion really is fantastic, and now after watching that I really want to go there as well. Seriously, let’s book a day, we’ll all go have steak. 100% serious.

- While we’re here, please enjoy Steve Carell’s recent appearance on The Colbert Report where they reprise an installment of Even Steven.

- Anne Sellors is known around the internet for having the most depressing IMDB page of all time…although I leave it up to you to decide for yourself whether that’s truly the most depressing IMDB page or not. Although the true beauty for this link is the five page long comments section which includes such notables as “Fantastic Performance” and “I HEARD SHE WAS DOING THIS LOVE ON BROADWAY, NOW”. Fantastic stuff.

- Check out this article about how due to new revolutionary technology, you will be able to enjoy the new Thor and Captain America movies in three dimensions. Also included is photo from the set of Thor. ’nuff said. (HAHAHAHA)

Free agent forward Hedo Turkoglu changed his mind Friday and decided not to join the Portland Trail Blazers, opting instead to accept a five-year $53 million offer from the Toronto Raptors, sources told ESPN.com.

That is my new nickname for the Miami Heat free agent trio, by the way – the monstrous fire breathing, three headed creature of Greek myth. LeBron is obviously the lion, Wade is the black mamba-like serpent, and Chris Bosh is the useless and seemingly out of place goat head.

Also I’m sure there are some shoddy metaphors relating breathing fire with a team called the Heat that I can further force in here… It’s clearly not my finest work, but I’m going to stick with it regardless.

I don’t know, I think I just wanted to call Chris Bosh a goat, even if his new girlfriend is kind of hot (…right?). There is also a picture of Michael Bay pitching Pearl Harbor 2 to Chris Bosh there as well, which really quite delighted me.

I am really enjoying this whole insane 2010 NBA offseason right now. But just from the perspective of an NBA fan in general, not as a Raptors fan. There’s really nothing to be excited about Raptors-wise for like the rest of the decade, so I’ve kind of mentally clocked out already…I’m here rooting for them in body, just not in spirit.

This is really my NBA dream offseason come to reality. Every year we hear about professional athletes whine about wanting to win at all costs, how they’re winners and would do anything to win…and then they turn around and force their teams to pay them $25 million a year to throw balls through a net three nights a week, and then complain again when their team has no more money left to bring in help for them. When Kevin Garnett was stuck in Minnesota, we all admired his loyalty…but on the other hand I couldn’t help but keep thinking what if he just ditched the Timberwolves, signed with the Spurs for $10 million, and then just spent a season dominating the league with Tim Duncan on their way to a championship? And then after that, you’d be free to do whatever you’d want. It happens all the time.

We eventually found out how it’d be with Garnett much later when he finally got traded to Boston, but by that time it was almost too late. He’s old and busted now. We all got a taste and learned that anything is possible, but now we’re still asking what if he got out of their earlier? When both Paul Pierce and Ray Allen were also both younger? It never happens in the prime of an NBA player’s career – we always have to settle for counterfeit “superteams” where washed up veterans like Gary Payton and Karl Malone sell their dignity for sidekick jobs in the twilight of their careers.

Well it’s finally happened. Two perennial MVP candidates (and one perennial All-Star, I guess) have finally teamed up in the prime of their careers, in a partnership together, instead of a free ride for one of them. (Well, maybe for Bosh.) LeBron’s goes and leaves over $30 million on the table and says that it’s because he wants to win…and fans call him a quitter. Maybe if they didn’t boo him in the last game he played in Cleveland, I’d feel more sympathy for them. Not that they weren’t completely unjustified in booing him…but still, probably not the proper message to convey at that time. And like any owner of a sports franchise knows anything about loyalty, continually screwing fans over with overpriced venues and concessions…let’s be real. Honestly, the fan reaction of LeBron leaving Cleveland has been surprisingly…heated.

I mean yes, why would you ever want to leave Cleveland? I know, I know, it’s such an attractive city. But nobody said there wouldn’t be sacrifice.

Although the unnecessarily excessively attention whoring he did with booking an hour of television time to announce a one word decision probably contributed to everyone’s general dislike for him. Even if Kobe already essentially did the same thing back in 2004, cockteasing the Clippers just like LeBron did to the Knicks.

At least I’m having fun. Like I said, every offseason I’m wondering why no one does this…and there’s always endless excuses – guys want to max out their contracts, they want their own teams, they want their numbers…whatever. But I get it and I understand it, even if it runs contrary to their frequently stated, alleged primary goal of winning a championship.

Now suddenly…someone’s actually done it. Is this not awesome? I think it’s pretty awesome. I’m jumping on the Heat bandwagon, I don’t care – FORM OF CHIMERA ATTACK!

And it’s not even for the thrill of rooting for a winning team, although that would be a welcome change in my life. I support their realization of my NBA dream. I couldn’t care less about the actual on-court success of the team, although they would be pretty fun to watch as well. LeBron, Wade, and Bosh essentially just want to live out their real life Entourage fantasies, winning championships with their buddies together in Miami. MIAMI!!! THAT is what I’m rooting for. How can you hate them for that? If I was working the same dead end job for seven years surrounded by a bunch of incompetent idiots, and had a chance to work for another employer located in South Beach instead, along with a (much, much, much) better group of colleagues, you’d be fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t bolt right away. I wouldn’t even have had the decency to pretend I was carefully considering all my options for a few days. I would just disappear, and by the time you’d hear about me, I’d already be in Florida. Anyone else would do the exact same, given the choice.

It’s the easy way out. And that’s why it’s so genius! Fuck everyone else, just do what you want! All this “legacy” talk is bullshit anyway. In the end, the only things that matter are (a) do you have a championship ring or not, and (b) how many?

Not to say it’s automatic every year now. The actual logistics of the rest of the team should still be pretty interesting to follow. If all the Chimera heads take a few million less than the max ($15ish million), then they’ll be able to fit Mike Miller in (for say, five years $30 million) and also maybe a Kurt Thomas type guy as well for the remaining $5-6 million, or resign Udonis Haslem with it. And then the challenge is to see how you can fill in the rest of the roster with minimum contracts and NBDL All-Stars. (Anthony Tolliver, Reggie Williams?) The great thing is that the fun has only just begun. Now we wait to see how many ring chasing bitches crawl out of the woodwork to whore for Miami. Since this puts them over the salary cap, the only way they can improve year to year is to add draft picks and one MLE signing a year to fill out their depth. It’s almost like the NBA version of American Idol – who gets to ride the Chimera? Only one winner a year. The fun doesn’t stop, it goes every year for the entire duration of their new contracts.

Or at least until the current collective bargaining agreement expires at the end of the upcoming season. Considering the insane spending spree we’re seeing now, ($34 million to Amir Johnson, $55 million to Brendan Haywood, $82 million to Rudy Gay!?!) chances are we’ll never even see the 2011-2012 NBA season.

But maybe the Blue Jays will be good by then.

I PERSONALLY GUARANTEE THAT THE CLEVELAND CAVALIERS WILL WIN AN NBA CHAMPIONSHIP BEFORE THE SELF-TITLED FORMER ‘KING’ WINS ONE

I recently put together a list of environmental variables that we use in blah blah blah blah blah, and I returned it fairly promptly to the original requester, who is in our group but not on my day to day team. I don’t work directly with her every day, but we’ve been the same projects before countless times – I’ve been in the proverbial foxhole with her when deadlines don’t get met, and things don’t work, and people die, etc. So I expected some sort of minimal level of respect from her. I mean this whole thing is addition to my current heavy workload, and essentially done as a favour for her, so show some appreciation, okay? But before she even reviews it, she phones me over to her desk and asks me how “accurate” it is.

…

What did you say to me? Who are you tryin’ to get crazy with, ese? Don’t you know I’m loco?

How accurate it is? Well why don’t you open it up and determine for yourself that it is COMPLETELY 100% FULLY FUCKING ACCURATE before you call me over here?

You have clearly mistaken me for someone that goes around building documentation of completely fabricated bullshit just for my own amusement – I know there’s people here that do that, but I am not one of them. IS IT ACCURATE!?! Of fucking course it’s accurate, what do you think, I just took a dump in the palm of my hand and smeared it across the top of your desk? WOMAN IT IS IN A FULLY FURNISHED EXCEL DOCUMENT DRESSED FOR SUCCESS IN SIZE 10 VERDANA

How dare you insult me, I am Choking Fucking Yak. MY shit is together. My shit is PACKED together, it cannot GET any more together, MY shit has the density of a motherfucking white dwarf star at all times. What about YOUR shit? How about you get YOUR loosey goosey shit together before we get to discussing my shit, huh?

WHAT THE FUCK

From now on, all of my emails will have the friendly little “Thanks!” default signature at the bottom DELETED before being sent to you.

To say that you deserve it now would be…inaccurate.

- Somewhat late, but whatever. Happy birthday to Sam Raimi from James Franco and Bill Hader as Willem Dafoe in a mirror.

- So far I think two episodes of Louie have aired (or are at least available for illegal download). Essentially they are just stand-up clips sandwiched between various awkward skits of varying hilarity. I’m hoping it finds its pace as it goes on, but for now even just the stand-up parts are good enough. Also, here’s his bit on George Lopez’s (LOL) show.

- This ridiculous story about a psychic German octopus picking Spain to win today is actually pretty amusing, but oddly enough I’m already tired of his played out octopine ass, and the story is only two days old. I think this whole World Cup thing is burning me out. It’s all I hear about on the way to work, at work, and from work. And when I want a distraction from it and look in on other sports, it’s just endless LeBron rumours and one run Jays losses. It’s a tough bracket. But to Paul’s (the octopus’ name, don’t you know) credit, “psychic octopus Paul unfazed by death threats” is probably the greatest headline I’ve seen this year, so good on him. (EDIT: Nevermind, we have a new winner.) Between the octopus and the revealed destination of this World Cup trophy made of cocaine, I think I’m ready to bet on Spain now.

- Usually I like to stay away from the current internet memes, so that you may have the joy of finding them yourselves…but sometimes one comes around that is just way too good to go unmentioned. Updating a previous topic initially mentioned in AL’s post…here is The Double Rainbow Connection (Remix).

- The 100 Greatest Movie Insults of All Time. There is no way you will not be amused for the entire duration of the video. Also, I’m pretty sure Glengarry Glen Ross Alec Baldwin is the younger version of Jack Donaghy just like Swingers Vince Vaughn is the younger version of Wedding Crashers Vince Vaughn (or the Vince Vaughn in any movie he’s done in the last 10 years, really).

- Ah fuck it, I’m just going to repost that Glengarry Glen Ross scene again – if you’re anything like me you immediately went to Google it after seeing just a clip of it anyway. And I did that with the New Jack City scene too.

Sit yo five dollar ass down before I make change.

So Lonely Was The Ballad – Jamie T

I can be too hard on people sometimes. I’m aware of this. Once, for a grade school yearbook profile or something, I remember listing one of my “Dislikes” as “Judgmental hypocrites.” Get it? I hate people judging others, but I was clearly judging others! Ha! One of many, many failed attempts at wit in my youth. The difference is that back then such attempts at philosophizing could be considered misguided at worst, cute at best; now, my tendency to get overworked over every little thing is just damaging.

It’s no secret that my friend Shirley drives me crazy. Without rehashing the history of our friendship, I’ll just say that she’s the classic friend who can raise you to the highest of highs, but also bring you down to the lowest of lows. Either way, she remains oblivious. Most of the time, this arrangement works for me. For the last few months, it has not. Ever since I got back from Winnipeg, I’ve probably been more messed up in the head than ever. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it has occasionally been a very bad thing and if it wasn’t for the constant presence of friends and family I would definitely be sinking into a deep funk by now. I’ve become acutely aware of the people in my life who are always there for me even if they don’t realize the support they’re providing, you know what I mean? When I’m down, good company always seems to find me.

That’s probably why it stings me when I consciously reach out to somebody and get ignored. Shirley has been living at her apartment downtown for several months and in all that time, she never thought to invite me over. That’s not even a friendship issue, that’s just a matter of decency. I have people I hate who I’ve had over to my house because that’s just how these things are done. But whatever. I’d spoken to her a couple of times since my return, once to let her know I was back and once on her birthday. Both times I was under the impression that she would get back to me when she was back in Toronto and had some free time. I understand as I’ve always known her to lead a pretty hectic life. Up until a couple of weeks ago, there was no correspondence and all of a sudden, I know what time it is…so to speak. Busy or not, when something is important enough, you make the time. When something is important enough, you make the time.

Therein lies the problem.

I had a chance to hang out with Shirley recently and we had a wonderful time. I’m ashamed to admit that the whole time I was gripping tightly to the idea of telling her off. So even though everything seemed fine, when the evening was over I decided to tell her what was what. I don’t like to attack people or make people feel bad, but I also don’t like to keep personal problems to myself especially when it might lead to me passively lashing out at this person whenever I see them. Honesty is the best policy. Unfortunately, I probably wasn’t as forceful or convincing as I would like to have been, but we rarely are when we plan these things so far ahead of time. What struck me during the whole conversation was the lack of recognition in her face. I blame myself for not being able to properly express how hurt I was that she’d seemingly ignored me for so long. She apologized and she couldn’t explain why she hadn’t been around and really, that’s good enough for me. What is there to be said when there is such a massive disconnect between how two people view a relationship? I was deeply, deeply offended by her neglect of our friendship and she hadn’t noticed until I brought it up. She’s not going to magically grasp the situation just because I’m bitching about it.

The lesson to be taken from this is that I tend to hold people to a standard that is unfair to them. It’s a mistake that I won’t be so quick to make again. Let’s just file this in the Fool me once… department and move on, shall we?

*****

Baseball bat violin. No, that’s not a Beck song, it’s an actual thing.

This Double Rainbow video is making the rounds so I figured we should get on this while we can. I peed myself after about thirty seconds. Some of the best comments:

is this guy a Rainbow Goblin?

Next time you have a profound spiritual experience, perhaps you should not grab the camera and start jacking off, thus making the moment more special.

And, of course:

I saw a double rainbow and I… JIZZED IN MAH PANTS!

A happy Canada Day and 4th of July weekend to all!

We need to talk about protection.
I don’t think it’s gonna get that far, Roan.
I mean a gun. Why do you think she’s known as the ‘Black Widow’?
She’s African-American and her husband died.

World Cup, whoo, exciting!

The office seemed quiet this morning. In particular, I came in this morning to see my manager’s jacket and bag at his unoccupied desk in the cubicle next to mine. Two hours later I still hadn’t heard or seen him at all, so I figured he might have just left it there from yesterday and didn’t come in this morning.

I finally saw him when I went to get some coffee…he had been in the lunchroom for over two hours, watching the Paraguay and Japan game, along with like half the office. Good stuff. I expect office productivity to be similarly paralyzed when the Spain and Portugal game starts this afternoon.

I am North American, I have no idea about anything soccer (aka football aka povertyball) related. But I am glad to see that other people get irrationally excited or depressed about sports events as well.

Why do I follow sports? I don’t know, I find no joy in the limited success of my home town teams, and yet for some reason I have still not gotten used to their perpetual failures. I think it’s just the manner in which they lose, the continued ignorance and idiocy that surrounds these teams that irks me so much. Take for instance, Cito Gaston’s comments after yesterday’s Jays’ 2-1 loss to the Indians about how limp this lineup is when it’s not hitting home runs…

For the Blue Jays, who have scored just eight runs in their last four outings, it was another night of frustrations at the plate for the team that still continues to lead the major leagues in home runs.

“That’s pretty much what this team is about,” Gaston said.

Gaston was asked if there is anything he could do to somehow spark the Blue Jays to score more runs.

“I guess you can go out and get some guys that get base hits,” came his response. “That’s all you can do. You can’t do much more about that. These guys are what they are.”

Go suck a dick, Cito. Go suck a whole bag of dirty horse dicks, you senile old bastard. I don’t even really want to get into this topic, because even now I feel an incoherent two thousand word rant coming on if I don’t stop now. I just want to post this up here so that this object of my hate is preserved into cyberhistory for all time, like a horrible little blood sucking insect trapped in amber for future generations to find (and create clones from, like in Jurassic Park).

Speaking of hate and Jurassic Park and home town teams…one of the biggest regrets I have about that entire mid 90’s era of dinomania is the popularization of Velociraptors, the most prominent dinosaurs from the movies. I mean, they named our basketball franchise after them. It’s like naming a sports franchise the Toronto Ewoks or the Toronto Glitter Vampires – let’s be real here, people, come on. Jurassic Park and “raptors” became pretty lame pretty quickly, as even from a pretty young age I knew to instinctively hate any interest I may previously have had once it sold out and became non-indie.

I was a big dinosaur nut back then, years and years before the movie even came out. In Grade 2, we got to pick our own words for our weekly spelling quizzes (remember you only had “quizzes” back then, never “tests”), and I would always choose various dinosaur names. Mrs. Doble was very impressed because their names seemed so difficult, but in reality I actually did it just because you would only need to memorize like the five or six letters in the prefix, because they all ended in “saurus” – maybe this is how I cheated my way into the gifted program. My favourite dinosaur was Deinonychus, who was the fucking G of all the dromaeosaurs (or at least until the Utahraptor was discovered in 1991 and not widely known until years afterwards, which means it isn’t relevant to my Grade 2 spelling quizzes story SO WHY ARE YOU EVEN ASKING ABOUT IT SHUT UP ALREADY). They were also the stars of Jurassic Park, even though they were credited as Velociraptors. Velociraptors in reality were less than two feet tall, they were chicken-sized dinosaurs.

Imagine, as a nine year-old, watching Jurassic Park, and experiencing your first ever erection as all these fucking awesome dinosaurs are brought to life using revolutionary special effects. Imagine seeing your favourite indie dinosaur tear shit up and steal the show…only to learn that it isn’t your favourite indie dinosaur, it’s some other much shittier dinosaur playing bad cover versions of all their songs under a different name. And then imagine seeing that counterfeit dinosaur become every other kid’s favourite dinosaur overnight, while your original indie favourite vanished further into obscurity.

In this bizarre mixed analogy, Velociraptors are kind of like Oasis, but if Oasis was sucky. (The Verve?) And Deinonychus is Blur. But even more unknown and original…like…Suede? I don’t know, I just compared Velociraptors to Oasis, I don’t know where the hell I’m going with this post any more.

“What your favourite dinosaur?” they would ask me afterward.

I would then roll my eyes in a very childlike immature fashion and sigh before replying, as if it was all I could to not pass out due to sheer boredom. “Deinonychus, duh.”

“Uh…what’s that one?”

“It was a like this man-sized pack hunting carnivore with this huge claw on its foot, it was AWESOME.”

“Oh that’s the Velociraptor.”

“NO IT’S NOT! I KNOW WHAT THE DIFFERENCE IS, IF I HAD MEANT A STUPIDHEAD TURKEY SIZED LOSER DINOSAUR I WOULD HAVE SAID SO, LET’S FIGHT NOW, AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!”

I had social problems as a kid. Still do, and that’s probably where it all comes from. This hate has bubbled away in the darkest corner of my heart, largely unarticulated for 17 years. No one would understand, no one would care.

Very recently, I found this clip of Dan Tefler doing a stand up bit called The Best Dinosaur. I am happy now.

I love it because it works on so many levels. The actual content of the joke with each dinosaur is funny enough, but it’s not even the real joke – the real joke is the fact that he’s even talking about such a stupid topic in the first place, and that he is way too opinionated about it and has way too much information at the ready. And it’s a great improv bit as well. I’ve heard some people saying it’s all just a scripted routine and he’s got plants in the audience…but I really don’t believe that’s the case. I know I can name all those dinosaurs off the top of my head. (And spell their names too! Thanks Mrs. Doble!) It’s not a far fetched idea to imagine that there’s similar dinosaur nerds in comedy clubs all over the place, ready to shout out all sorts of random dinosaur names if prompted. (All the same, I think this would be one of the better crowds and iterations of the joke he’s had.) People are passionate about dinosaurs.

Real dinosaurs. Not those played out Velociraptor assholes.

I know I said that I would not launch into a retarded two thousand word rant about the Blue Jays, but instead I wrote one up about dinosaurs instead. Even when I succeed, I fail. (Jeff Goldblum did say that “life, uh, life…ah…always finds a way.” Raptors and Blue Jays are essentially the same animals anyway, and their respective dependencies on three pointers and home runs make them identically inconsistent, crappy teams.)

What is left to talk about? Oh yes, here is Chuck E Cheese doing the crip walk.

This match will determine once and for all which nation is the greatest on earth – Mexico or Portugal!

Sad Keanu
This is too weird not to share. The internet is a wonderful place.

Song to download:

Passion Pit – Tonight, Tonight