Links!

First of all, for those of you who haven't seen it already, I found this new webcomic about...the jungle or something. I don't really know. And then when you're done with that, check out Zach Braff's Garden State Blog, even though the movie came out like three years ago. And then when you're all done with those, check out this hilarious Flash movie and drown yourself in a lake.

If you want some more links...
- A stupid Flash game. Should keep you entertained for at least five minutes.

- 24...The Game? It's no lie, my fellow Brothers of the Bauer.
Username: preview
Password: C3%qt24
Go forth with his blessing, and tell the Psycho One where the bomb is.

- Random video. To watch this video, you must have watched Napoleon Dynamite and be familiar with Halo 2. So really...no one should watch this video.

- As promised, here is Terri Schiavo's Blog. This is fifteen levels of wrong. But the good stuff is in the comments. I just did a random read through, and this one popped up.

"Yes, this is for real. Terri Schiavo somehow managed to create a blogger.com account despite the fact that 3/4 of her brain has dissolved and was replaced with spinal fluid.

It's a Festivus miracle!"

Ah, Seinfeld. Just for the record - if I ever get comma'ed up, I want to be kept alive. Because sooner or later they will develop the technology needed to transfer my consciousness into a giant transforming robot. I've already made these wishes clear to Jess, but I don't know if I can trust her to properly carry out my form selections of either a dinosaur or an 80's styled boombox. She might stick me as a loser Volkswagen or worse - a microscope.

...

Goddamn, Perceptor was the crappiest Transformer of all time. What the hell is a microscope going to do for you in a laser gun fight? The weenie even spoke with a British accent! Oh how I hate him.

- We're all about class on this site. So watch as I link the topic from Terri Schiavo to baby seal clubbing. God bless Canada. Always on the frontier of the seal clubbing movement. That's really the only reason I live here.

I think that's a good note to end on.

3/30/2005 11:19:00 PM | Comments (0)

I had a pretty kickass weekend. Perhaps one of my best. Maybe like top five at least, ranking somewhere near the weekend I got my braces taken off. I thought I'd share some highlights with you.

Thursday

- Time with Jess is always excellent time. I got to watch a classic Chinese movie that I hadn't before, and Napoleon Dynamite. It's an odd movie, and while it's not really my/our type of odd, I still loved it. A worthy addition to my collection.

- I picked up a glazed donut at Coffee Time on the way home, which was very yummy.

Friday

- More excellent time with Jess. The day was a blur, but I had elevator music ringing in my ears afterwards for some reason.

- AL, Jess, and I then took turns kicking Emu's ass at his own game of Gloom. But let the record show that I kicked the most amount of ass. I absolutely dominated at this game.

Saturday

- More Gloom, with Emu and the Snaxy one. And my brother for the fourth. We were all raped by Emu - it wasn't nice. "Gloomy" even...? Max liked it so much (the raping, not the game) that he decided to get his own set (of rape, not Gloom).

- Wonderful, wonderful StarCraft. For some reason unknown to me, I had three copies of Brood War sitting around at home, and two CD-keys. Our main man from Kingston (who was no doubt naked at the time) provide us with the third and the crafting began. We were all raped by Emu. It didn't matter that we were on the same team. By the end of the night, we had determined that I completely and utterly suck at StarCraft, and that apparently Emu has no problem with eating Oreo cookies while drinking V8.

- You only finished half the can, you fucking bastard.

- Here's a screenshot of me secretly killing Emu's SCV's while he wasn't looking. Hee hee hee. And here's another screenshot displaying my complete dominance at the timeless art of vespene gas mining. Good times.

Sunday

- I'll be honest...I don't really remember anything about Sunday. I keep thinking that I should though.

Monday

- Despite what you may think, Italian sausage + mayonnaise = not the greatest idea ever.

- Realized that Monday isn't part of the weekend. Proceeded to not care.

- Typed up this post!

- Typed up "Typed up this post!"

- Typed up "Typed up 'Typed up this post!'"

Hahahahahaha I'm so funny.

3/28/2005 09:38:00 PM | Comments (0)

Le Sexy

Rich Girl - Gwen Stefani f. Eve

It's past 4 in the morning and I'm supposed to be working on an essay that's due in a few days. Instead, I somehow managed to develop an infatuation for a French pop star named Alizee. I haven't actually listened to her songs, like that matters, but they have titles that roughly translate to "Me...Lolita" and "I'm Not Twenty Years Old". God bless the internet for showing us that it is possible to fall in love through the magic of animated gifs. I just showered, but it won't come off.

This isn't how things are supposed to be.

By the way, check out Zach Braff's blog. If someone posted this before, a thousand apologies. The ritual seppuku is already under way.

Garden State should come with some kind of warning. I mean, I keep thinking that I can watch it and not be affected by it, but I always feel like crap after. I just keep watching the climactic screaming into the abyss scene over and over again. I need release.

PQ:
She called me. I couldn't resist. It's what she wanted, you see. It's what they always want. They beg and beg and beg...and they're so sure they'll love this life, mysterious and beautiful and dark...except I always take too much.
There's been others, then.
Aha--! Hundreds! Oh, dear. There's no point trying to change what people are, Cassidy. You may as well face it: They like us like this.

3/28/2005 04:21:00 AM | Comments (0)

Surprises

Beverly Hills - Weezer

* Listen to the new Weezer song now!!! I hate to hype up songs, because it causes people to instinctively become skeptical, but that's how strongly I feel about this. There's nothing like enjoying a band for your entire life, wondering when they're finally going to falter (even the best do) and then they just keep releasing kick ass songs. It's almost unfair. I wonder how all those Good Charlotte fans are going to feel in five years. Impotent, I'm thinking.

* Gloom is brilliant. Thanks, Gary.

* I normally don't promote blogs, especially ones that are on such public domains, but you've got to check out the blog of this basketball player, Paul Shirley. I heard about it on a message board and after seeing it endorsed by The Sports Guy, I had to check it out myself. If you've ever wanted to know what it feels like to be that guy at the end of the bench, give it a quick read. Here's my favourite bit, which he wrote during a game against an overmatched opponent:

I began considering the possibility that there could very well be a bit of playing time in the offing and started paying at least cursory attention to what was going on in timeouts, in case Coach D'Antoni said something like, "From now on tonight, everyone will be shooting with his left hand. Deviation from this plan of attack will result in castration immediately following the game." I would really hate to miss one of those instructions, come out firing, and because of my own mental lapse, ruin the rest of my life.

Give it a chance.

PQ:
Lookin' fer Cassidy?
Lookin' for someone might know him.
Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Sayin' you do, huh?
Cassidy useta drink inna place here, uh-huh. Gimme five bucks.
'Fraid you need to narrow it down some. So long.
Cassidy came onna boat from Ireland 'bout a hunnerd yeaz ago, useta drink inna place here with Mick McCann anna crew. Cassidy the fuckin' crazy man, awayz lookit me, lookit me...Cassidy can't go out inna sun. Hehhhn. Funny thing 'bout Cassidy. All ya ever gotta say's the bastard's name.

3/27/2005 12:08:00 AM | Comments (0)

Spring Is Here

How's It Going To Be - Third Eye Blind

I'm sitting in my Short Story class listening to Professor Odozor rant about this piece, Bartleby, The Scrivener. I actually enjoy it, the story that is. His lecture is insane. For one thing, he has this terrible habit of asking a question and when you answer, his response is this: "(pause) Hmm...yeeeess..." He clearly doesn't care what we have to say at all. Then he starts trying to explain how the story can be read from a Marxist point of view and I'm just like, "Oh, fuck this guy." The last part of his lecture, which went overtime by the way, I can barely remember as it had something to do with religion, Terence McKenna's Timewave Theory and the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow. Or something. I kept thinking one thing:

I wish Angel was here.

There was one positive thing to be taken from showing up for class today. I got to hang out with Wendy Shen, previously credited in blog posts as "Girl in Short Story class who I knew from Markham District" and "Girl who handed in my paper for me". After some solid guest work, I figure it was time that she got her own episode. Professor Odozor had apparently come to the conclusion that I'd been skipping tutorials (wow, completely untrue), so instead of tearing his bulbous head off and taking a dump down his neckhole, I decided to just complain to Wendy after class. I went on for about ten minutes straight about how I wanted to physically harm him and how I wished bowel infections upon him and his descendents and truth be told, I felt a lot better. It was only fair that I let her get hers after.

It's funny how we think other people's lives are so much better or more fulfilled than our own, when in actuality everyone's got their own shit to deal with. Pardon my French. That's not to say that Wendy's not doing well, but I realized that beneath her calm surface, there lied a raging river of emotion. Okay, I'm just going to stop that now.

I knew Wendy as someone who was involved in lots of school things. She works as a UofT tour guide, but she also volunteers for student councils and choirs and things of that nature. Whenever I talked to her, I always thought, "Now this is someone who's taking advantage of university opportunities!" That statement remains mostly true. I think all of these things she does outside of class are genuinely rewarding. Frankly, I was content believing that she had it all figured out.

Somewhere during our hanging out in Hart House - me staring at a painting, her eating her dinner - she decided that it was time for me to hear about the bad stuff. It was inevitable. She isn't completely happy with her program. Who is, eh? She's mad at her ex-boyfriend, who broke things off for questionable reasons. Is there ever a good reason? We talked about these things for a couple of hours. I, being the biggest drag in the world, was excited that she was choosing to share these things with me. Maybe she shares these things with everyone. Maybe not. Either way, I felt privileged. Sorry, I don't mean to make it sound like I enjoy hearing that people have problems, but for some reason it's one of the only things that I feel confident talking about. That sounds ridiculous. Regardless, I couldn't help but indulge in the strange pleasure we all seem to get from hearing that people's lives are just as pained and troubled and miniscule as our own.

I think my being sick has made me kind of pretentious. I'm a bit subdued, my "loud, piercing voice" (as my friend Leanna calls it) having been quieted by a small cold. I find myself thinking a bit more before speaking, I think, so I was saying all kinds of cryptic, overly dramatic things like how I enjoyed being in the Earth-Science building for the first time because it was a new experience. What can I say, I've always wanted to be Dr. Manhattan. Everything was going so well until a couple of her friends from her upcoming class popped up and started chatting with her. Unfortunately for me, one of them was disgustingly beautiful. I said, "This is getting a little crowded I better..." Then Wendy said, "Since we're all standing around, I might as well introduce..." Then I said, "That's okay, let's not do this. I'm just going to go." And I exited out into the snow.

I hate meeting new people. I'm awful at it.

PQ:
Why is it you have to do it? What is it about rescuing Cassidy that sets it so squarely on your shoulders?
'Cause he did the same for me.
Do you mean that time with the Saint and the pickup truck?
Uh-huh.
Jesse, that was the worst fucking rescue I ever saw in my life! It didn't even work!
He tried, is the point. He had no reason to after I insulted him before, except he knew he had to do what was right. Now that may be kind of old-fashioned principle nowadays, but not to me it ain't, an' the way I see it that makes ol' Cass a fella I'm proud to call my good friend. An' you turn your back on your friend, you may as well go ahead an' join the asshole squad, 'cause you just became one more reason why the damn world's gone to hell.

3/24/2005 03:20:00 AM | Comments (0)

Weowneeweow weow weowneeweow weowweowweow...

...yeah, that's all I got. I've been busy. I'm two episodes back on 24 - I don't have time for this crap.

3/23/2005 11:35:00 PM | Comments (0)

Here are some Provoking Facts...

- I went to Market Village over the weekend, and the oddest thing happened. I found an empty parking spot close to the entrance. Like literally thirty paces from my car to the mall. I didn't really know how to handle it, so I just assumed it was a sign of the apocalypse and took my own life.

- Remember Gunstar Heroes, one of the greatest side scrollers of all time? It was only released on the Genesis, so all you loser Nintendo kids missed out. Well, word on the street is that SEGA's reserved the name "Gunstar Super Heroes" which may or may not be the long awaited sequel to Gunstar Heroes. I have mixed feelings about this, as SEGA has been on the decline in recent years, and I would rather not see one of the favourite games of my childhood all whored up in 3D like Sonic was.

- I've been trying to gradually phase out the hat. I'd like to gradually get to the point where I don't need to wear it anymore. But I want a new Jays cap. The time is right - I can taste it in the wind, and I can feel the fire burning in my loins. Though to be fair, that could just be any one of the thousands of venereal diseases I caught in my youth. Maybe I'll just get the cap, but I won't wear it. I'll just put it in the closet and look at it fondly from time to time. That sounds logical.

- Apparently there's going to be a Yao Ming movie coming out, and the trailer makes him seem like the great Messiah of China. ...okay, well I like Yao - his game flows like the Yangzhi River and has a deceptively soft jumper...but the dirty chink is 7'6" and he only averages 8 boards a game! His greatest career accomplishment is getting raped by Shaq in the first round of the playoffs, and for that he gets a documentary made of him? Forget that. I'll buy a ticket of course - I mean, as a fellow dirty chink, I feel compelled to support him in whatever capacity I can. Also, I want to see if the love affair between Steve Francis and Cuttino Mobley makes it into the movie as an engaging subplot. I think Jess would enjoy that, if only she didn't hate black people.

- On a completely unrelated topic, I wonder sometimes if there will come a day when I step back for a second and this site will have become so racist, homophobic, and just generally all-out offensive that it will actually shame me. I remember when this site was about Magic cards and how cool Avril was compared to Michelle Branch. Now all we talk about is how much blood came out when Max had his penis devoured by a Malaysian bear. We've changed. The site's changed. For the better? For the worse? I can't say. But we've lost a little bit of innocence along the way.

3/21/2005 09:27:00 AM | Comments (0)

Party Favours

One Hit Wonder - Everclear

I had to go to Natasha's birthday party. Quick recap: She's the quirky religious girl who used to live on res that let me sleep over one time. She's cool. I've barely seen her since she moved out so I thought that tonight would have been a good chance to catch up on things.

My mistake.

Turns out there was about 70 people invited. It wasn't exactly the most...intimate environment. I managed to talk to her alone for all of, oh, 8 seconds. It wasn't that bad though, as I wasn't expecting much. Plus, I had braced myself by watching High Fidelity the night before, so I was prepared to get my John Cusack on if I had to. Luckily, that wasn't necessary as there was one other guy I knew there, an old friend of hers, and I did a decent job of making nice with this other dude who I just met. Their names and what we talked about are absolutely of no interest to anyone here. Suffice to say that I felt bad for a few reasons:

1) I told the guy I knew that I was sticking to him since I didn't know anybody else. That may have cramped his style a bit. Though considering he was wearing a frilly shirt, his style could barely be more cramped.

2) The dude who I was sitting across from me did his best to start conversation and I did my best to accomodate him. But you know how I am. Most of you have known me for years and it's near impossible to talk to me. He was nice though.

3) As we were trying to figure out how the tables were grouped, I asked them how they met Natasha. They both said they met her through a friend. Ironically, the friends through whom the meeting was done were not actually at the party. I found that odd. I declared us to be the "Miscellaneous" or "Other" table. I asked them how often they hung out with Natasha. They both said they hadn't seen her in many months before tonight. I hadn't seen her in a bit myself, so then I asked, "What's the draw? Why are we all here?" Suffice to say, there wasn't a definitive answer and that put a slight damper on further discussion.

The food was great. I have to admit I'd never eaten at Mandarin before. Pretty lame, I know. My tolerance for fried stuff must be dropping. I found myself heavily congested after. I realize now why people learn to burp at will. I was trying to force one, but it only lead to a series of hiccups, which gradually released all the gas. I figured it out: Hiccups are burps for pussies.

After that I came home and watched a lot of movies on TV. For anyone with satellite, there was a wicked selection of flicks on tonight:

The Godfather III - I'll be honest. I didn't "get" the first Godfather (I'm gay) and I didn't finish Godfather II (the tape I borrowed from the library was messed up). However, I will watch anything with Al Pacino in it at least once, plus I was with my bro so he could explain everything to me. This obviously isn't the best of the series and I've heard some say that it's a pretty bad movie all things considered. Francis Ford Coppola is a wicked director and the actors were all entertaining: Pacino goes without saying; Andy Garcia looking like the next big thing before everything went to hell; and Sofia Coppola...for the sheer crappiness of her performance.

Great Balls Of Fire - They show this on MuchMoreMusic every other week or so. I enjoy it. It's about the musician Jerry Lee Lewis in case anyone cares. It's a bit too cartoony though, at times looking like it's trying to be a musical. Plus, the director has no idea how to properly convey the relationship between Jerry Lee and his, erm, 13 year old cousin (Winona Ryder). At times its supposed to be romantic, but come on, it's his fucking underaged cousin! Dennis Quaid is pretty good as the main character. We're not talking about a Ray level performance or everything, but he's clearly having a good time. He was probably drunk off his ass during the whole film, but that's okay.

Navy Seals - Its excellence needs no explanation.

Heat - Hey, it's Pacino again! Have I talked about this movie before? Who cares? This movie kicks ass! Let's just look at the cast: Pacino, Robert De Niro, Val Kilmer, Ashley Judd...and that's just the main cast! Supporting actors include Jon Voight, Natalie Portman, Tom Sizemore, Danny Trejo (Robert Rodriguez' actor of choice), Amy Brenneman (Judging Amy), Mykelti Williamson (sadly, best known as Bubba from Forrest Gump), William Fichtner (a classic "That Guy") and of course, Wes Studi, or should I say, Sagat from Street Fighter. If you haven't seen this movie, well, you suck. As far as I know, the only movie where Pacino and De Niro have a scene together and let me tell you, it is worth the wait. Great, great, great, great movie.

Boogie Nights - Mark Wahlberg, Burt Reynolds, Philip Seymour Hoffman, William H. Macy...forget it, just check this cast list. That's a murderer's row of actors right there. Alfred Molina and Don Cheadle are in there too? That's illegal. It's directed by my boy, Paul Thomas Anderson who also did Magnolia and Punch-Drunk Love. I haven't finished it as I'm waiting to get it on DVD, but I've caught bits and pieces. I challenge you to watch a scene from this film and not be mesmerized by it, it's truly brilliant.

I was flipping between all these movies with my brother, which is always fun. We sit around, criticize actors, make lots of inside jokes, pretend that we actually know shit about the craft of movies, it's really fun. These are the sorts of things I'll remember when he's dead. Just thought I'd end this post with something nice.

PQ:
Guess you two got yourselves in some kinda trouble, huh?
Yeah, I have a tape I got sent by mistake, full of evidence on this terrorist guy. So what's it like, living around here?
It ain't so bad. You hear all kindsa stories 'bout country people bein' backward or crazy, but you only gotta stay a short while to know that's just a exaggeration. Livin' here kinda reminds me of that show The Dukes of Hazzard, 'cept local folks fuck their kin a lot more.

3/20/2005 04:21:00 AM | Comments (0)

I for one welcome our new LEGO overlords.

3/17/2005 03:06:00 PM | Comments (0)

The Big Hit Pt.1

Before I start, lemme warn you that this is a long LONG post. If you do not wish to read it, just imagine me saying "So I'm jerking off to Malaysian Bear porno..." for about 5 minutes straight and you'll get the idea.

The last time I was inspired to write something on the Wambag was after I came to the realization that a girl I had liked for a while never had any feelings for me whatsoever. I had felt a need to tell myself I was over it by blogging on the bag. Why? I'm not really sure. I'm quite positive that prior to that post, I had needlessly bantered and whined to Will, Jess, and Alex about that subject much to their chagrin. But nonetheless, this post is not about that. This post is about now, and more precisely what happened on Friday night and the days leading up to it.

The days leading up to this eventful evening was really all a blur. On Monday, the minute I woke up and got into the shower, I knew this week was gonna be a waste. I could feel an overbearing wave of laziness rush over me and it was at this point that I decided I would not go to school at all this week. Luckily for me, common sense came through and this plan was never fully carried out. Since I'm way too lazy to recount the week in paragraph format, I will do it in bullets. That's how we gangstas roll.

Monday:

• Woke up. Fucked up. Decided to go downtown but not to school.
• Shopped at Eaton's for 3 hours.
• Watched "Be Cool" at Rainbow. Here's the review: Entertaining, inoffensive, with genuinely good intentions to be a fun movie. Travolta and Vaughn play the same role they play in all movies. 2 stars. (out of 5)

Tuesday:

• I was "sick" today. Didn't go to school. Probably shouldn't have told the teacher I had AIDS.
• Beat Star Wars Republic Commando. Here's the review: Entertaining, inoffensive, with genuinely good intentions to be a fun game. High production values and wonderful visuals. 7.5 stars. (out of 10)

Wednesday:

• My normal day off from school
• Played ESPN NFL and NBA all day

Thursday:

• Finally decided to go to school. Shouldn't have.
• Digi-Apps class was retarded. We learned how to make a light source in 3DMax. Fuck Jay-Z.
• Illustration class was only 1 hr long because the teacher is gay.
• A flamingly homosexual guy touches my elbow at Banana Republic. Needless to say, I pummeled him savagely. (After I let him touch my wee-wee in the change room)

* Feel free to add in as many "Jerked off to Malaysian Bear porn." as you like. Don't be hasty. There is no wrong number.

After a week of video gaming, I definitely needed a break from school. Wait, that didn't make sense. Anyways, I spent the first half of Friday at school in my digital integrations class learning absolutely nothing because I know more than my teacher does in Photoshop, so fuck him. Then when I got home, I made the trek to Al's place. Right before I left the house, my mom warned me about the bad weather and the road conditions and as usual I gave her the "Yeah, sure mom. Ok, later... biyiyatch!" (a la Vince Vaughn from Be Cool)

The road to Al's place was relatively smooth, but snow was starting to fall. No worries. I got to Al's at about 5:30pm and waited for him there. An hour of video gaming later he arrived (due to the now terrible road conditions, the bus was forced to move along at a sluggish pace). The next couple hours were spent on the usual stuff two extremely masculine and good looking guys would do together. Two jars of Vaseline and some old paper towel tubes later we decided to leave for our usual Friday night ballin'. You fill in the blanks of what happened in those hours. Be creative, because we sure were.

So we left the house at about 10:15pm and went west on Steeles. At this point, a lot of snow had already built up on the roads and it was ICY as shit! We probably should have turned back, but I wanted to ball badly seeing as how the Raptors lost to the Hawks (!), in OT (!!), at home (!!!). Everything was going well until we passed Warden. The next traffic light ahead already had 3 cars stopped. So as I approached the red I casually started breaking but the second I started to, my ABS system kicked in and at this point I knew we were in for a ride. Cue "Cells" In the next 3 seconds, I had to make a decision. Do I:

a) pray for my breaking and ABS to prevail and come to stop within inches of hitting the exposed hydrogen gas tank sticking out of the trunk of the car ahead of us.

b) swerve onto the raised meridian on my left hand side and obliterate the metal pole standing at the end.

c) reach into my glove compartment and jerk to my hidden stash of Malaysian Bear porn in my dying moments.

d) hit the ejection button on the underside of my steering wheel thereby launching me into safety and leave Al to die in the fiery explosion from the hydrogen gas tank.

Obviously I chose (c), no question. Ok, for real, I decided to swerve. So the car went right over the meridian and lodged itself on top of it, following it like a track. Momentum carried us forward until we crashed into the pole. I think we hit a little Mexican boy as well (as Alex touched upon in his post) but I swear he was already dead when we hit him.

Upon hitting the pole, I believe the first thing I said, pardon me screamed, was "FUCK!". We immediately got out of the car and I checked the front. Small paint chips and a mangled license plate. Hrm, not bad. I picked up the sign on the road and moved it out of the way of traffic by placing it on the island. Hesitantly, I then looked under the car and just as I feared, the stump of the sign had torn a hole in a wheel turning dealy (as Alex elegantly put it). NFG. So naturally we decided to flee the scene of the crime. Too bad the car wouldn't move! Once again... "FUCK!" Followed by an "OH FUCK!". And of course a "WHAT THE FUCK!". Not knowing what to do we gave Al's dad a call and then proceeded to stand around in the cold for a couple of hours while numerous tow truck drivers offered their services. At this point of the story I'm going to cut it short because Alex pretty much mentioned everything. (Really, this is just a way for me to say "I'm too damned lazy to go on". I WILL write Pt.2 of this weekend post later this week. Until then consider Jay-Z, FUCKED. Dipset all day, everyday.

P.S. Link to a hilarious Conan reaction. This is gold.

3/14/2005 04:52:00 PM | Comments (0)

The Big One II

Cells - The Servant

It was a dark and stormy night. Cue lightning. Or snow. Wait does snow make a sound? This is off to a bad start.

It was icy as shit on Friday. Better. Two young boys were on their way to their usual game of Friday night basketball, not knowing that they would soon have their lives...changed...for...ever...

A red light. A vehicle ahead. A sharp turn. An island. A sign. A flashback.

The day started off...well, it didn't really start so much as continue. You see, I had forced myself into a second straight Thursday-Friday all nighter so that I could finish another essay. Honestly, I don't even remember what Friday looks like anymore. I only have long Thursdays. No essays for a couple of weeks though, so good times there.

I only had one class that day, a tutorial. Since I was semi-delirious and I knew my friend Leanna wasn't showing up, I decided that I would try and talk to the tutorial's resident hottie, Faye. I made some witty remarks, asked her about work, pretty basic approach. Results were meh. Further study is required.

After that I hung out with Jess and Will again, which is becoming more common these days. I know, I know, who else do I hang out with, right? But for a while there I was trying too hard to branch out and meet new people. I mean, new people are fine, but when it comes to being comfortable and happy, I'd much rather sit in Jess' room watching bad soap operas ("Shut up! Shut up before I kill you!") while eating Burger King off her floor than go to some party with my U-mates.

Oh, I ended up giving my essay to Wendy Shen (an MDHS survivor) to hand in for me. Just thought I'd give her a shout out.

I got home late because, again, the roads were awful. The bus driver wasn't taking any chances and had to be driving no faster than 8 mph, no exaggerations. When I got there, Max was already waiting. We played video games, watched the Raptors lose to the Hawks(!) in OT (!!) at home (!!!) and left around 10:00. Standard stuff. We had meant to leave earlier to make up for the weather but note the aforementioned video games.

A flashforward.

We were around Warden and Steeles, west of Warden (I think) and we got to this traffic light. We were in the middle of our ritual listening of Drop It Like It's Hot when Max, noticing the car beginning to slide, says, "Here we go." He hits the breaks, but the vehicle is NOT STOPPING. He has to think fast. The driver ahead of us is either unaware of us about to ram into him or he's getting ready to call his lawyer. Max turns the wheel left. Before we know it, we're sliding along the meridian. "Oh shit!" says Max. I utter a sound not unlike a woman screaming. We smash into the sign warning people that there's an upcoming meridian (irony?). We stop and get out. Externally, everything looks fine. The only damage appears to be to the license plate. After a brief discussion, we decide it'll be best to get off the road before we do anything else. We get in and the car, but it won't move. The wheels aren't turning and the engine is making inappropriate noises. We get worried, but find comfort in each other's arms. Caught up in the moment, passions run wild. Steam clings to the windows...

Huh? What? Oh, sorry. That's another story/fantasy I'm working on. Where was I?

So the car is not starting and Max realizes that there could be some serious damage to the undercarriage of the car. I ask him if he's rattled from the collision or the prospect of telling his parents about this. Suffice to say, it's a while before we call his parents. We call my dad instead, because it'll be easier for him to get here. We wait and wait. A bunch of tow trucks come by offering to help us out, but we wave them off. A seemingly endless array of cars pass by, all of them either laughing or carrying a disdainful look in their eyes. That one that says, "typical chinks". This one tow truck guy stops to talk to us and we ask him all sorts of questions. He says that the police are on their way according to his transistor radio or some such gadget. I'm actually relieved as I'd love to have someone tell us what we're supposed to do at this point. My dad comes along and essentially tells the guy to fuck off. After about two hours of deciding how to handle the situation and waiting for the GOT' DAMN PO-LICE who never show up (fuck tha police!), we finally trust Nissan's roadside assistance deal to get us out of there. The guy pulls the car a couple of feet, revealing that Max's car was actually partially impaled on the stump of the sign we took out.

By the way, it should be noted that the sign got TAKEN...OUT. It didn't stand a chance. It got it's revenge by scraping up the bottom of Max's car, but trust me, that is one accident that that sign won't forget. You think Max's car looks bad? You should see the other guy. Not to mention that kid we hit that was waiting on the meridian to cross the street. We got out and sure enough, he was dead. Two hours later, we wrote Sweet Caroline.

What really happened is that apparently the stump was blocking the wheel turning dealy (excuse the tech jargon) and that's why we couldn't move. So, seeing the police coming around the corner, we hopped in the car and drove to Tijuana. The end.

What really really happened is that we went back to my house, Max ended up taking the car to my uncle's garage the next morning and Max got home safely and took his fatal beating like a man. The end. Max, if I left anything out, post it yo' DAMN self.

To sum up the experience in two words: Fuck Jay-Z.

I got sick this weekend. It may have had something to do with sitting out in the cold for over two hours on Friday night. Probably not, though. I decided to call in sick on Sunday. It may have had something to do with there being five basketball games on (2 college, 3 NBA) and that it was Selection Sunday, where they decide which teams are going to participate in the NCAA College Basketball tournament. Probably not, though.

I want to thank anyone who has had to deal with me over this last heavy school work cycle, as I haven't been pleasant to be around and I've been moping even more than usual if you can believe that. Now that all that stuff is out of the way, I think I'll be returning to my more fun-loving, happy-go-lucky manner. Oh wait, I've never been like that.

I'm probably going to make another post about Blind Justice this Tuesday, so consider yourself warned. I'm also working on my own show, Blind Cashier, featuring a blind grocery store employee named Lee Alexander. Here's a preview:

Boss: Damn it, Lee! You can't even walk across the street without help, what makes you think you can still work here?
Lee: (intense) JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE!!!

Gripping.

PQ:
Cut that a bit fine, didn't you? Christ--Give me a hand up and let's get out of here. You can bandage my wound on the flight out.
...Herr Starr...Herr Starr, I've just shot a man dead. I've never done it before. I don't like it, or how it makes me feel. But I did it in order to save your life. So just for once I would like some FUCKING APPRECIATION FROM YOU!!

Thank you very much, Featherstone. Now: Help me up, and if we're lucky we can get safely away before the Saint of Killers and the entire valley along with him are utterly vaporized.

3/13/2005 09:10:00 PM | Comments (0)

I forgot to post this last week.

Seriously, someone's going to have to fill me in.

3/12/2005 08:05:00 PM | Comments (0)

Just Passing Through

Runaway Train - Soul Asylum

I thought it only fair that since I haven't been enjoying any actual life experiences, whatever those are, that I share some of my TV viewing experiences with you. It's the only fair reward for your years of loyal readership. No need to thank me.

I'll bold the titles to assist you in deciding which sections to skip. See? I care.

American Idol, The Apprentice and Survivor: Palau

Reality TV! I am returned to thee! Okay, I'll admit that I fell off last year. I barely watched The Apprentice and Survivor. I'm sorry. These damn reality TV shows just seem to pile up and it's hard to follow them all. Plus, there was this infernal thing called school that kept getting in the way! And friends! Damn it! There weren't many, but the few there were really got in the way of my ability to follow these shows. Thank God I got rid of all of those.

I've caught the last three AIs and I have to say it's the easiest reality TV show to watch. People go up and sing. You like it or you don't. Sometimes the chicks have nice boobies. It's not particuarly involving. Also, they only do one a year as opposed to The Apprentice and Survivor which go one every eight months or so. I don't have anything particularly interesting to say here, because the cast itself isn't particularly interesting. I've been spoiled by the previous contestants. I'll just throw out my picks to win it: Bo Bice or Nadia Turner. Watch out now. And Amanda Avila for being a mixture of Jessica Simpson and Cindy Crawford.

The Apprentice is probably the best of the three shows. The cast is killer. One of the earliest eliminations was this hippie named Danny. He endeared himself to his team at first by playing his guitar and making up stupid songs. Since he seemed creative, he was handed the marketing job everytime the team had an assignment. His best idea? A bean bag toss to promote a new fast food item. The fuck? There's Erin, a Paris Hilton clone and Alex, Captain Whitebread. In one episode, the teams had to make murals in Harlem to promote the lastest Gran Turismo game and Alex actually goes up to these black guys, excuse me, niggas on the street and starts talking to them. Two amazing things happen: One, he doesn't get stabbed and two, his team actually wins! When he's describing the mural to the Sony execs, he's like "Up here you've got your props and your bling bling." Unbelievable comedy. There's also this guy named Chris who doesn't say shit the entire episode, but whenever they're in the boardroom and Trump asks for his opinion, he has a hissy fit.

(takes a breath)

There's Bren, who's like a young Colonel Sanders. Kirsten, the mandatory psycho bitch who was sadly voted off in the second or third episode. In her post-elimination segment, she kept saying stuff like "It's okay, I know I'm still the best. I know Mr. Trump still wants me. Daddy still loves me. I'm a good person. I'm a good person..." There's Verna, who at one point decided that she couldn't take any more stress and grabbed her things and walked off. I mean, literally walked off. This chick wasn't stopping until she hit ocean. Luckily, one of Trump's assistants picked her up. Of course, she quit the next episode. There's Brian, the mandatory tough guy from Jersey who's probably a homosexual, and Michael...oh, Michael. You know that guy who you had to do school projects with who just sat around spouting ridiculous ideas while reading a tittie mag underneath his desk and never actually did any work? This is that guy. There's Audrey, who looks like a hot chick in an 80s music video. Seriously, everytime she shows up I keep expecting her to start writhing on top of a Pontiac Firebird while Whitesnake plays in the background. She goes down in my reality TV Hall of Fame for her "My parents abandoned me when I was a child and I had to live on the street and I wanted to scar my own face because I was so beautiful so I could fit in" speech. She's not even that attractive. Her mistake was fucking wit' my boy, John. In basketball terms, John is a First Team All-Reality TV player. He's like a mixture of Vince Vaughn and Michael Corleone. After Audrey told him to "fuck off" on the last episode, he proceeded to sabotage her project and swore to bury her in the boardroom (though I'm pretty sure he meant he was going to bury her in the middle of the desert with all the other people who've crossed him). At the end of the episode, Audrey was fired and trying to throw herself out of a moving limousine and John was laughing his way to the bank.

My pick: John. And yes, I have a man crush on him.

As for Survivor, I have to say that I'm only watching it out of my loyalty to the series and because Mark Burnett is The Jesus. The cast ain't that bad to be honest with you, but it just feels like they're filling in all the necessary stereotypes. The pretty boys (Bobby Jon and Jeff), the gay guy (Coby), the old man who has no chance in hell of winning (Willard), the muscular, lazy black guy (Ibrehem), the all-American hero (Tom), the hick (James)...it goes on and on. There's also a few "chicks who are supposed to be hot but really ain't that hot". Maybe I've just been spoiled by my Amber, God's gift to us unwashed, reality TV washing masses (Note: She can now be seen on The Amazing Race another show destined to steal my life away). The only reason to watch is for my boy, Ian. I like to think that this is the guy I'd be if I was on the show. He's a skinny beanpole type dude, but he seems genuinely likeable and he's willing to do anything even though it looks like he's about to collapse at any second. He more than carries his weight in every challenge and he cut off a snake's head. Bad mothafucka. That'd be me. Except that I would have got myself some poonanie! by now.

Shit, this is running long. Give me one more show.

Blind Justice

Yeah, I'm a bitch for good advertising. This is that new cop show from the guy who did the recently finished NYPD Blue. It stars Ron Eldard, known to most of us as the guy in Men Behaving Badly who wasn't Rob Schneider OR as the helicopter pilot in Black Hawk Down who amazingly WAS NOT KILLED BY THE ARMY OF CRAZY BLACK MEN! Yeah, That Guy. Anyway, he plays Detective Jim Dunbar who is blinded in an act of valour. He moves to a new precinct hoping for a fresh start, but finds nothing but skepticism from his boss, his fellow officers and his new partner (more on her later). And no, that was not ripped directly from the show's website. Anyway, he also has a hot girlfriend or wife (I wasn't sure) played by Rena Sofer, and a dog. The acting is good all around, as it tends to be with these shows, though I feel bad for some of the actors who have to go through the usual "A (insert disability here) detective? Haw haw haw!" dialogue and try and make it sound fresh. Eldard himself has at least three "Just give me a chance!" speeches that he does as well as can be expected. Anyway, he finds himself relying on his other senses to prove his worth at the crime scenes, and it's depicted in a novel fashion. In one scene, as he concentrates on a train in the background, we get all the background elements in the scene removed except for the train. It's kind of cheesy actually, but I get the point and I think they'll get better at implementing this as the show goes on.

As for his partner, she is played by the sexy Marisol Nichols, who you may remember as the lovely Audrey in National Lampoon's Vegas Vacation...or not. I remember seeing that movie on TV once and I immediately Googled her name in to find out who she was. I forgot about her, but she's all growns up now and lookin' fine! Her relationship with Dunbar is nice and natural so far and you know he's going to end up tapping that ass within three episodes, though I hope they have patience with it. Regardless, she's my newest infatuation. So for the lovely Ms. Nichols and the solid work of Mr. Not Rob Schneider, I'm willing to give this show a shot.

Grade: B

Is it sad that this may be the longest post I've ever written and it has nothing to do with my social or academic life?

...

Naaaaah.

PQ:
You fucks could speak American, I wouldn't have to hurt you.

3/09/2005 02:55:00 AM | Comments (0)

I got dragged along by my parents to go shop at T&T this past weekend, and it seems like an adventure everytime I go. Take for instance, these bizarre products that seem to mirror my supporting cast - Jess, Big AL, and of course MaxSnax of Ajax.

It's uncanny.

3/08/2005 11:12:00 PM | Comments (0)

Another trailer that will make you swear off the most sacred forms of intimacy in reverence of this movie. More "Cells" Goodness!

Addendum: Direct link now! Just right click and do the save as thang.

3/08/2005 12:54:00 AM | Comments (0)

Public Service Announcement

Invisible Touch - Genesis

Seeing as how the site has devolved (evolved?) into a series of posts about curling and Russian skull fucking and we have guys named Kendall on our tagboard, I thought it was time that I at least say why I haven't posted in about two weeks, which is what really matters. I don't have anything to say about these other guys. They can go eat a dick for all I care.

I've seen many a shitty website lose relevance due to a lack of quality updates or not having updates at all. This is usually because the owners of the site are a bunch of lazy pricks.

DAMN IT, I assure that this is not the case with The WAMBAG. I am not lazy, I just have no life and therefore, nothing to write about. So there ya go.

Having said that, I will hopefully be rejuvenated by a Saturday hanging out with Will, Max and Jess which was composed of Max and Will dying approximately nine thousand times while playing Alien Hominid, watching the greatest movie of all time and playing a stirring game of Life. The latter involving Max becoming a former high school basketball prodigy turned coke addict, Will becoming a self-loathing, family hating tech support employee, me becoming an adult film star with a past of animal pornography and three kids of questionable lineage, and Jess becoming a highway patrolwoman who, with the exception of being a filthy bull dyke, managed to stay pretty clean throughout. So, pretty standard game actually.

Once I'm finished with my last essay, hopefully I'll have more personal problems to whine and bitch about. I really didn't want to write about my school issues, it's terribly boring.

Sheep and Yak, keep holding it down fellas and I'll do my best to carry my weight around here.

PQ: (particularly explicit today)
It must be very exciting, doing what you do. Katie, Frau Brendel, she's not allowed to talk too much about Jurgen's job--But I bet it's a thrill a minute...Much too thrilling for me, ha ha! I'm more of a thrill a month sort of girl! I mean, a lot of my friends, they say "Hilde, you're still young, you should live a little"--but I don't see anything wrong with settling down...
I think there has been a misunderstanding, Fraulein Weiss. I am here to fuck. When I asked Haputmann Brendel about women, he told me he would ask his wife if any of her friends were unattached. He assumed my interest was social. It is merely coital. More wine?

*****

What you've got to understand about women is they like to be romanced, you know? Bit of tenderness, bit of flattery...you've got to seduce them...
I can't be bothered with any of that crap. I've always resisted the sexual urge up to now. But it doesn't seem to go away, no matter how vigorously I masturbate.
Right...well...

3/07/2005 12:35:00 AM | Comments (0)

All I have to offer you is this gem:


Enjoy.

3/06/2005 12:00:00 PM | Comments (0)

Third-place finish may suffice at Brier

Canadian Press

EDMONTON -- Finishing third at the 2005 Canadian men's curling championship may not sound like a crowning achievement but it might just be good enough for a team with Olympic dreams.

Five-time Brier champion Randy Ferbey of Alberta and Newfoundland's Brad Gushue already have berths in December's Olympic curling trials in Halifax. But in theory, a team could finish third at the Tim Hortons Brier and still snag an Olympic berth. That fact hasn't been lost on Ontario skip Wayne Middaugh.

"It's realistic, it's a possibility. Especially if Newfoundland and Alberta finish ahead of you. If that happens we've accomplished our goal," Middaugh said.

Middaugh skipped Ontario to a Brier and world title in 1998 and another as a second in 1993. But a Canadian championship is nothing compared to the Olympics he said.

"The Olympics are the biggest things in sport. It's bigger than all sports," Middaugh said. "They (usually) shut down the NHL and the NBA. I mean, these are huge multi-billion dollar leagues. They're shutting them down so these guys can go to the Olympics - that'll give you an idea of how big it is."

But that's the kind of mindset that could lead to complacency said Shawn Adams of Nova Scotia.

"Our goal is to win the Brier and if we win the Brier good things can happen for us but if your end all goal is just to make the playoffs or finish third - once you get there you might just be a little too content," Adams said.

In other news, I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing.

3/05/2005 01:38:00 PM | Comments (0)

Some horrible, terrifying links for you today.

- 100 year-old, 23 pound lobster caught in Atlantic Ocean. I have no idea how he ended up in Pittsburg though. I, for one, welcome our new giant, immortal crustacean overlords. For he is truly the destroyer of worlds.

EDIT: - Okay, nevermind. He's dead.

- Miss McDonald. Quite possibly the most terrifying website I have ever had the misfortune of visiting.

- A 17 year-old girl is injuried in a bizarre sexual accident. Again from Pittsburgh. Huh. The best part is trying to imagine exactly how it went down. I have to admit that my imagination is just not good enough.

- Another bizarre sexual injury. This one doesn't need quite as much imagination as the other. And is that a hair in the picture? GODDAMMIT MAN WHAT THE FUCK?

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make a trip to Home Depot. That is, after I pick up some frozen hot dogs, bananas, and watermelons. Oh, and anyone know where I can get a gun? I might have to...uh...shoot...something.

And don't bother calling tonight, I'm gonna be busy.

its a man: it dow look like a bear

3/02/2005 06:02:00 PM | Comments (0)

March has come! Time for some links.

- Here are The 24 Greatest 24 Moments. I swear to God, do not click this link if you have never seen 24, even if you never plan to. I will be a monkey's uncle before I allow this site to spoil glorious 24's awesomeness. In my professional opinion, I feel that the list is extremely accurate. I also love this article because the terminology and style of the writing is eerily similar to the way I think of 24. 'cept that he doesn't have as cool 24 nicknames as I do (ie. The Bauer Power Glower). I realize that this link is only relevant for maybe two people that visit this site...but when has that ever stopped me in the past?

- You might have noticed that article's from Progressive Boink, from the same guy that brought us that fantastic Street Fighter article from so long ago. So between that and the 24 one, I don't really think he can do much wrong in my eyes. Haven't had the time to check through the rest of the site, but I think most of the stuff that's worth any good is in B's archive. Out of the ones I've read, I like the two Power Rangers ones the best. Check it when you have time.

- Puzzle Bobble. Considering the amount of love I have for this game, I am surprisingly sucky at it.

- American Dad takes over Arrested Development. I don't think there's anyway I can enjoy that show now. It seems identical to Family Guy anyway. Shit-fucking bastards.

- Torn by Natalie Imbruglia...mimed. Surprisingly good. I always liked Wishing I Was There better though.

Oh, and just a warning - I ended up watching Collateral Damage (CityTV), Blade (SPACE), and Bad Boys (twice back-to-back on TBS) on Sunday night, all while switching to and from the Oscars and trying to do my homework. My brain might be oversaturated with lines now, so I can't predict what I'll do in the near future. It probably won't be healthy though.

"Some motherfuckers always tryin' to ice skate uphill."
(I don't really know why he said that, but you can't deny its awesome power as a line.)

3/01/2005 12:55:00 PM | Comments (0)