Some quick Provoking Facts from Choking Yak.

- Everytime I use that title it sounds exponentially more gay. Or maybe logarithmically. I'll have to check the gaydar readings.

- New layout available - http://wambag.com/blog.php?pink - don't even think about touching it if you don't have 1024x768 or higher. None of the page links work yet and there's still adjustments to make for the old layouts, and I've been too lazy to get around to doing it. I'll get them all up eventually though.

- And with the 7th pick overall in the 2005 draft, the Toronto Raptors select...J'onn J'onzz - the Martian Manhunter. Hahahaha, Alopecia rules. We need to start thinking about nicknames - "CV" isn't good enough for a guy named Charlie Villanueva who also doesn't have a single strand of hair on his body. And Rono Leni Ukic is just too good of a name. I don't even know where to start with that.

- Good draft. ...I think. I heard on the radio that JP Riccardi likes Charlie Villaneuva. But I'm going to wait until the Jays win more than four in a row to take his word for anything.

- I apologize for the sports talk. Now for some links.

- Semi-interesting post concerning the legal ramifications of Bruce Wayne's actions in Batman Begins. Spoilers everywhere of course.

- I just love the excellent picture they used. Classy. Also at the bottom of the page - Scientists create robot lobster. I don't even need to say it.

- Video! Mario theme played on bass - nothing new, but I just thought his bass looked cool.

- Another video! It's a page though, so you left click. Korean Salsa competition? That's already insane - nevermind the rest. ...did it bother anyone else that the startup for that fireball was a little fast?

6/28/2005 01:18:00 PM | Comments (0)

I found another random blog that links to us, for whatever reason I can only unsuccessfully guess at. At least...I think it's us. It's a link to the old site, and we're listed as "The WHAMBAG". Too good. I'm thinking The WAMBUKI is to Japan as The WHAMBAG is to Austrialia.

I have to admit that curiousity got the better of me, and so I ended up Googlin' it, which produced this little gem, moving the hate spotlight back onto Sheep, where it belongs.

So along with the recent tagboard traffic, I got to wondering exactly how people find our site. And so I consulted the handy dandy traffic logs, which we've apparently had since we moved to the .com. And so I thought I'd share with you some of the search strings that bring people here from search engines.

Some are weirder than others - and just to clarify - I'm not making any of this up. I'm not quite that good.

abhorrable spelling

organic chemistry jokes

antoine walker

neil diamond mp3's

arabian guys celebrities

arnold schwarzenegger - the austrian yak

banana conyak

everybody just cool out skit

ferris bueller baseball

adam duritz and homosexuals

athena rookie nude

actraiser translation

b.b. hood vs. kurt angle

rape dollars

14 year old boys having bum sex/porn videos

...so I don't really know how I feel regarding the fact that searches for child pornography lead to this site. I know we wouldn't mind more traffic and that's a huge new demographic we can tap into...but we left that lifestyle behind a long time ago, and I don't know if we should go back.

I would just like to once again reiterate the fact that none of those were fabricated. And if you were wondering, the top two search strings that gave us the most hits were "take a load off manny" and "weeaboo".

So I hope that helped shed a little light on our recent little traffic spike. Just to prepare you for when Sheep produces that new video for us and we become the next e-celebrities.

"if you visit the whambag homepage, you will learn that it is supposed to be stupid. it's a webzine that's like the Onion. dumb on purpose."

I believe those are words I can live by.

6/27/2005 08:24:00 AM | Comments (0)

It's All In The Telling

Sparks Are Gonna Fly - Catherine Wheel

I watched Batman Begins for the third time on Wednesday. I either keep seeing it because I love it, or I've seen it so many times now that I HAVE to love it. I like to think it's the former. I've been working on my Christian Bale facial expressions. He's got that perfect "pucker your lips and squint" thing going, it's amazing. Of course, body-wise, I will always be more like Bale in The Machinist.

*****

On Thursday, I was almost killed.

I was at work, doing my usual business of cashing out customers when suddenly I heard this buzzing sound. Then a crackle. Then an explosion! The light fixture above me had shorted out and suddenly sparks were falling all over the place. I was unshaken of course. The customers I were helping at the time freaked out and began to run away, not even realizing that they'd left their kid behind. There he was, all alone, terrified, sparks falling all around him. So I picked him up and shielded him with my body. I've got some pretty bad burns on my back right now, but it was all worth it because the kid was okay.

Well, that might not be entirely true. Yeah, there was a malfunctioning light fixture, but it just shorted out. There was maybe a quick pop. That was more than enough to induce a girlish scream from me. Oh, I did end up grabbing a kid too, that part is true. I needed cover from the sparks, so I picked him up and held him over me as a human shield. He suffered third degree burns all over his body and is in the hospital as we speak, but I'm fine. So happy ending there, eh?

What REALLY happened is a light burnt out, a few sparks fell onto my belts, some customers were spooked and I was like, "Oh, cool." But how many of you believed that second story?

*****

I found some time to sit down for lattes with an old friend yesterday.

There I was, pushing around shopping carts in the hot, hot heat when I almost get hit by a car. I caught a glance of the driver and I was like, "Dirty chink!" So I followed the car, waiting for it to park so I could run a row of carts into it's side. Who steps out but one Ms. Cheryl Cheung! She'd come to visit me, which I thought was nice. It probably helps that she lives five minutes from the store, but nevertheless, I was touched. Also, since I was outside doing grunt work I could walk around and chat with her and noone could say shit to me. Take that, boss!

Eventually the parking lot scenery got boring, so I took my break and went to Timothy's with her to drink some stuff. I never go to places like that and like typical plebians, we ordered whatever we saw on their posters. I had an Iced Vanilla Latte, I think and she had a Mocha one. It's not important. We talked for a while. It's strange, you know? Cheryl is someone who I'll always have time for. I think we had one class together in high school and the LEAD program, but other than that it's not like she's someone I hung out with everyday. However, I always felt there was a solid bond there, whether it's because of shared interests or natural chemistry. Sitting in that cafe (right word?), chilling out with her, talking her ear off and catching up on things felt as normal as hanging out with Max or Jess or whoever. Meanwhile, there are some people from high school who I always thought I SHOULD have been close to, because I saw them in like 3 or 4 classes a day and ran in the same circles as them and honest to God, I have no inclination to ever see them again. I'm glad that she's back in my world.

*****

And now, a quote from another comic book:

Run like the wind, Rex!
Screw the wind! I could outrun the wind on my worst day.

6/25/2005 01:12:00 PM | Comments (0)

There's this Chinese guy at work who I always ask for help whenever I'm stuck, called Max. He has saved my ass a dozen times over already - half the time he ends up practically doing my project for me, and I just put my name on it.

He's a quiet guy, soft spoken and mumbles a lot, but that might just be because his English isn't all that great. But he seems kinda mopey sometimes, like he's not in a big rush to climb the big corporate ladder (completely unlike my boss, but I'll get to her in another post maybe). I saw him doodling smiley faces and stickmen during a meeting once. He's a nice guy, but for some reason, probably the first one I would expect to come in one Monday morning armed with a machine gun. There's something really strange about him that I hadn't been able to figure out, until yesterday. When I overheard someone talking to him (we're in frickin' cubicles here, it's not like I have a choice) and I think I heard him say he had a daughter. Which I didn't expect, because unlike everyone else, he didn't have any pictures of his loved ones in his cubicle. And I was about to just casually dismiss it and get back to populating the client information database, when all of a sudden, it all clicked into place.

He's my blue peg.

He lives the life my blue peg lived when we first played the game of Life at Big AL's house. Where MaxSnax was a high school basketball bust, Big AL was an animal pornographer, and Jess was a filthy bull dyke patrolwoman.

And of course, I was the miserable, family-hating tech support guy with two daughters that ended up costing like a million bucks in medical and tutition bills. That's him! That's me. (non-Snax) Max is what I'll become if all my introverted characteristics took over, I kept working here, and I got stuck in a dead-end relationship that I constantly pray to escape. (...not that...all those things have...or...will happen. ...heh.)

Today, I ran into him in the hallway as we returned to our cubicles from different directions. And I felt like I was looking into some kind of a sinister, magic mirror. And he was wearing khakis with light blue denim button shirts WITH THE SLEEVES ROLLED UP...or in other words, THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING I WAS WEARING. Seriously, who rolls up their sleeves nowadays anyway? That's MY gimmick! I invented that! I don't remember, but I'm almost 98% sure that I screamed out in terror, jumped out the window, and fell five stories to my death.

I don't know what's up with this place. I remember that I found my exact double working over at the Harvey's across the street when I was here last summer as well. (I still have yet to return there.) I don't know if it's because "skinny Chinese guy wearing glasses" is the most common profile in the world, but it is getting pretty damn eerie. But I hope Harvey's Yak ends up leading a good life - doing all the things I wish I could do but can't/don't want to. Like...robbing a bank and getting cut down by gunfire in the horrific hostage standoff that would result. Or skydiving. Rocky mountain climbing. Going two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu. Or having a lot of bizarre sexual adventures that I would never really actually want to have.

In fact, I hope that Harvey's Yak is deep within the Malaysian jungle right this moment. Deep within.

Meanwhile, I'm still stuck at work, forced to miss night school again because this PIECE OF SHIT SERVER IS UNABLE TO LOCATE INPUT TYPE LIBRARY REQBKR.DLL OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK BARBEQUE.

I need to get out of here.

And kill Max.

All of them.

6/22/2005 06:50:00 PM | Comments (0)

I'm just jumping in for a quickie.

Tradition dictates that my workplace celebrates good news with shots of scotch during work hours. Today was such a day. I love my job, I love democracy, and I love scotch. Scotchy scotch scotch.

Also, I've always wondered when they would make this.

6/22/2005 01:09:00 AM | Comments (0)

Interesting point of note - five of the last seven posts have been from Big AL. I don't really know what's going on either.

I'm just really damn tired. But I thought these links were just too good.

In order of quality!

- Ultra-Lifelike Robot Debuts in Japan. Yeah, it's like a year old, and the article itself came out almost two weeks ago, but I just loved this part - "Internal sensors allow the android to react 'naturally.' It can block an attempted slap, for example." Because as we all know, that's the only thing a robot woman is good for. (Bonus video!)

- Lions free kidnapped girl. ...wow. Just...um...wow.

- And now to end it with the go-to move.

I'll post more when I don't feel like collasping and drowning in my own urine.

6/22/2005 12:55:00 AM | Comments (0)

Motivation

The Time Is Now - John Cena And The Trademarc

First things first, Robert Horry = God.

Moving on.

Why did we have to grow up with parents and teachers who loved and supported us? What is the deal with that? Yeah, I know we've all butted heads with our mums and dads on occasion, but at the end of the day, we've all been blessed with parents who looked out for us and took care of us. And our teachers? Absurdly loyal. What did someone like Ms. Webb ever see in me? Was it all the Bs that I got on her assignments? All the lacklustre and mostly pointless presentations? My complete lack of comprehension when it came to science?

Let's not even try and explain how I became friends with a math teacher.

I've never had that "me against the world" feeling. If anything, I feel like the world and I are getting along just fine, the only problem is we're both fucked. There's a great line from this Marlon Brando film, The Wild One. Brando's character is asked what he's rebelling against and he says, "What've you got?" I never get to say anything like that.

Today was a slow day at work. They had me cleaning garbage can lids. CLEANING GARBAGE CAN LIDS. At some point, I had this exchange with my boss:

Me: Leaving, sir?
Boss: Yes, sir.
Me: Goodbye, sir.
Boss: (pause) You know what? You're going to go places.
Me: I'll probably be here for a long time.
Boss: No, no, I mean that. You've got a good work ethic, you never complain, you do whatever you're asked.
Me: Oh, I don't know sir, I just get bored easily.
Boss: No, that's not it. You're going to be alright.
Me: Thank you sir, I appreciate that.

Great. Another person who believes in me.

TQ:
You know, if there's one thing that genuinely frightens me...it's that I won't get to finish this.

6/21/2005 03:44:00 AM | Comments (0)

A Thousand Times Every Day

Something - The Beatles

There's a lot of reasons I hate leaving the house. Bad weather. Lethargy. The fact that it usually means I'm going out with some combination of Max/Will/Gary/Brian and/or Jess. I also hate falling in love, which is all too easy to do.

I can look out a window and have my breath taken away by someone crossing the street.

I can ride the subway from Finch to St. George, or from Scarborough Centre to Bloor and the parade of beautiful women make the subway cars seem like moving runways. Amazingly, I literally saw this phenomenon in Peru, but I don't want to talk about that.

Walking through the mall is deadly. It's the girls who work at those stands that sell perfume and T-shirts and other miscellaneous items. Were they always that attractive? Did I not notice before?

Just thinking about high school is depressing. It always is. All it takes is a name to incite all kinds of emotions. Eileen. Christie. Nitasha. Jess. Shirley. Sarah. Monique. Far too many to list really. There are girls I've met in classes, clubs, field trips, dances, etc. who I would have dedicated myself to in a heartbeat, even though I cannot even remember their names or their faces or whether our meeting was just a figment of my imagination. I could write you an entire essay about how any of these girls are the most beautiful I have ever met and you could not convince me I was wrong.

Work surprised me. If anything, I go there to focus and do my job. There are too many girls there. I don't know why or how, but I find myself attracted to each and every one of them for one reason or another. Their laughter. The shared pain of working at a supermarket. Those rare moments of odd affection. Today, Adriana looked up at me with those doe eyes of hers, the doe-est of doe eyes, and I wanted to simultaneously have my heart torn out and my genitalia ripped off (a la Sin City, natch).

At the beginning of the school year, I was legitimately convinced that the University of Toronto was hiring supermodels to walk around campus in an effort to boost recruiting. People told me that it was just because it was summer and the all the girls were scantily clad. They might be right. Regardless, it's summer again and the prospect of walking around campus is both exciting and absolutely terrifying. Gary and I went down to visit his friend after her convocation. It was raining a touch, but Gary said the weather was perfect. He was right. Many of the female graduates were stunning. Were the scummy chicks that I am forced to attend lectures with supposed to blossom like this?

As if staying at home helps. Forget the fact that I might accidentally catch a rerun of Buffy The Vampire Slayer and immediately be struck by the urge to commit suicide when I realize that I am NEVER going to hold Sarah Michelle Gellar's hand; no, that's too obvious. I hate watching a game show and seeing an attractive contestant. I hate when they go to the crowd shots at a sporting event and focus on the gorgeous fans. I hate having to watch an angel broadcast the news. There are women like this in the world? I want to find them.

I suppose the moral of this post, if you're looking for one, is that all women are beautiful. No lie. All women are beautiful except for Ashlee Simpson.

TQ:
Sometimes I want to be someone else so much it hurts.

6/18/2005 04:02:00 AM | Comments (0)

Thar He Blows

Speed Of Sound - Coldplay

I went to the Blue Jays game Tuesday night. It was the last Toonie Tuesday of the year, so I had to be there. The group consisted of (deep breath) Annia, her friend Ted, Ted's friend Mike, Markham District High's own Cheryl Cheung, Julius, his new galpal Jess (yes, another one who, if necessary, shall be referred to on this site as "the other Jess" or "Beta Jess". Our Jess shall continue to be referred to by any of her numerous nicknames, "Jess" or "Jess Prime"), Michelle, Michelle's boyfriend Danny, and myself. I think that's it. If we had shelled out the hard earned dough to go to the game on Monday night, we would have had a chance to catch Roy Halladay at work. Who did we get instead?

Chad Gaudin.

Now, everyone was bummed out at the prospect of having to watch some no-name go against one of the top teams in the league, the St. Louis Cardinals. But I was like, "Listen, this kid is young. Who knows? He might be amazing. We might be telling everyone about that time we saw Chad Gaudin pitch as a rookie. Right? Right?" Even when his stellar ERA of 13.50 flashed across a screen, I still had my hopes. Here's a brief recap of how his game started:

1st batter (David Eckstein): Grounds out. This allows me to break out my "He's only 26 outs from a no-hitter!" wisecrack. This is the only time I will get to say that.

2nd batter (Abraham Nunez): Gets a hit, thrown out trying to stretch it into a double. "There goes the no-hitter." I say.

3rd batter (Albert Pujols): Gaudin beans him. Probably better that way.

4th batter (Larry Walker): The pride of Maple Ridge, BC! Smacks a two-run homer off of Gaudin. "Holy sheeeeiiit." I say.

5th batter (Reggie Sanders): Another home run. At this point, I think Annia was trying to slit her wrists with the All-Star Voting Ballots we were given.

You get the idea. Gaudin ended up allowing 5 earned runs and 10 hits. While that sounds bad, it did allow me to break out the "He's working on a 10 hitter" joke just before he got yanked. Adding insult to injury, the opposing pitcher was a former Jay, one Mr. Chris Carpenter. He was beating us so badly, that I had to break out my old Carpenter jokes.

(After a few innings of domination) "Ho, Carpenter is building a house folks. He's putting it together real nice."

(Later, after Annia asked me if the house was finished) "Nope, looks like he's just started on the roof. He's just pounding those nails in!"

Eventually Annia gave in.

Cheryl: Would you guys stop with the house jokes?
Me: Nope. He's already finished the house, he's just adding the varnish now.
Annia: He's adding extra rooms at this point. He's making additions (I can't remember the exact word she used, she's gonna kill me).
Me: (bent over laughing at this point)
Annia: He's doing the whole neighbourhood!

I get the feeling this is one of those things that's funnier if you were there. Well you weren't, so piss off. If I were to compare the game to a movie, it would have to be Double Team. By the halfway point, I had lost my will to live.

*****

At work today, a book cover reminded me of a story that I wanted to write a long time ago. The cover featured a dude being chased by a giant shark. When I was in seventh or eight grade, I thought that the Loch Ness Monster would have made for a kickass antagonist. I don't mean in a Moby Dick way, I meant, like in a Godzilla or Aliens way. I'd planned it out as a trilogy.

The first part would be set out in Medieval times and would be about a retired knight's journey to Scotland. He'd go there to rest, having lived a long life of killing monsters and, um, other knights I guess. Little does he know that the peaceful lake that he lives by is home to none other than...THE LOCH NESS MONSTER! (Dun dun dun!!!)

The second part was going to be set in modern times. It would be about a detective with all sorts of mid-life problems (alcoholic, wife-beating, heroin addict...you know, the usual). After people start disappearing at sea, he's called in to investigate the problem. Little does he know that the disappearances are caused by...THE LOCH NESS MONSTER! (Dun dun dun!!!)

The last part would be in the far, far future (natch). The world is not unlike that of 1984 and other such dystopian settings. When those in power find their offshore settlements being decimated, they begin to send their prole-like followers out to sea to find and eliminate the threat. When they find the creature's nest, they discover that it has hatched about a thousand eggs, which could mean the end of the world. The heroes have to decide whether their world is worth saving or leaving in the hands of...THE LOCH NESS MONSTER (and babies)! (Dun dun dun!!!)

As you can see, the whole thing is more than retarded, yet very psychological. I think the whole thing came from my love of the movie Monster Squad. If anyone can find this movie for me on DVD, I will give you an oral pleasure card, free of charge. But yeah, I thought it would be nice to let you guys know why I don't try and write stories anymore. Because my ideas suck.

TQ:
Eeeehhhh...well, there's a story in that. Y'see that stage there? Buncha years back I designed that, built it m'self. But do they call me Bill The Stage-Builder? Naaa...y'see these doors? It was sixteen years ago I fixed them up, but do they call me Bill The Handyman? Naaaa...Wrote these floor guides, but do they call me Bill The Guide? Naaaa...
(Hey! Bill Chimpfucker!)
Eeeehhhh...Here y'go. It was only the once, pretty lady.

6/16/2005 12:07:00 AM | Comments (0)

All you bastards who are blessed with average motor skills should check out origami Yoda. Off the hook, that is.

Also, Triumph visits Michael Jackson fans.

6/11/2005 05:10:00 PM | Comments (0)

Innappropriate Attractions

Statue - Low Millions

Work is more grueling than ever, but with a slight increase in comfort and a massive decrease in accountability, I've managed to get by.

Today I had to deal with my "buddy" Walter during my break, which for some reason I had to share with him. He was talking to a friend on the phone and telling her that she should download Let Me Go by 3 Doors Down. I instinctively cried out, "That song sucks!" I couldn't help myself. We had a brief argument in which he mentioned that he also enjoyed Evanescence and his friend likes Simple Plan.

"Fair enough," I thought. Then I kicked him in the throat.

His friend I can understand, she also works here. She's a sweet girl, she's 17 or 18 years old. She's a kid, she doesn't know better. But this guy is older than me by a few months. HE should know better! Kids these days have almost no choice but to listen to shitty music. It's what's on the radio and on TV. They can't be asked to go downtown and visit seedy record stores to find the newest buzz band. I can sympathize. Hell, I still defend the whole Spice Girls thing. Not that it needs defending.

But Walter, he grew up with the same resources that we were all lucky enough to have. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden. Hell, we got Green Day during the Dookie era and The Offspring during the "we-don't-suck-total-ass-yet" era! We didn't have to avoid popular music, because those WERE the popular artists of our youth. When we moved to high school, our tastes were refined by these earlier, grungy, angsty artists. If you didn't develop some discretion during this period, well, what the fuck were you listening to, exactly?

Kids these days have to relate to songs like Welcome To My Life, Just Like You and Believe. We had Smells Like Teen Spirit, Say It Ain't So and Jeremy. I mean, fucking Jeremy! If these punks actually listened to Jeremy, their puny heads might explode!

And just for comparison's sake:

They get:

In my head there's only you now.
This world falls on me.
In this world there's real and make believe
And this seems real to me.

We got:

At home, drawing pictures of mountain tops.
With him on top. Lemon yellow sun.
Arms raised in a V.
The dead lay in pools of maroon below.

They get:

Everybody's screaming.
I try to make a sound but no one hears me.
I'm slipping off the edge.
I'm hanging by a thread.
I wanna start this over again.

We got:

Do you have the time
to listen to me whine
about nothing and everything all at once?

They get:

Girls don't like boys, girls like cars and money.
Boys will laugh at girls when they're not funny.

We got:

Now I know I'm being used.
That's okay man cause I like the abuse.
I know she's playing with me.
That's okay cause I got no self esteem.

I just feel sorry for them.

Geez, almost forgot what I actually meant to write about. I close pretty much every night now, meaning that I'm usually one of the last two or three employees in the store. Tonight, I got to wait outside for about 8 solid minutes with my friend Amber. I'm glad. She's one of those people who laughs at everything, which is good because her laugh is so nice to listen to. She's also about the same age, which is good to know. I think I've seen her with a boyfriend, but somehow, that didn't seem overly important to me at the time. She has an amazing smile.

Transmetropolitan Quote:

There's a bar in the corner of here and Cranberry, half a mile down. Fred's using it as his office. And when you find him, you tell him this is his baby too.
For fuck's sake, Fred. I swear, you'd stick it in mud if you thought it'd wriggle.

6/09/2005 04:17:00 AM | Comments (0)

WAMBAG: The Movie

What you have all been waiting for is definitely not the finished video of the WAMBAG's official trip to CNAnime 2004, but too bad, because this is what you're getting.

Don't be too judgemental; treat it as a sort of proof-of-concept for the potential of the awesome that could be achieved if we had better footage, a working mic, and - quite frankly - any sort of work ethic whatsoever.

So without further ado...


Clickety-click.

If you can't view this file, try VLC Player, which is the media player of the gods. You think I may be joking, but I kid you not. It can play anything, ursine or other.

Lastly, a little disclaimer about the poor crafstmanship of the video:

- I suck at compressing files for distribution. I just don't understand even the basics of how to make an xvid video from an avi source, so the quality is crap. Live with it.
- Any time you expect to see stars in the background, they once existed in the original copy. Again, the video quality is crap. Sod off.
- The talking bits of the movie may look like a bad asian movie dub. It was intentional, I swear. I am NOT too lazy to go back and fix it, now that I have finally discovered it.
- Yak's got a shit-eating grin the entire time he's interviewing the YuGiOh guy. That's the pinnacle of professionalism right there, folks.
- During the Pirates of the Carribean re-enactment, a girl dressed as a bunny gives them a glare of disgust. A girl dressed as a bunny. BONUS: this girl will appear again later in the video.

That's about it. Enjoy this hefty 15.6 MB monster. And rest assured, only 13 MB are filler, which means that the last 2.6 MB is concentrated quality, baby. I'm talking - like - 2 molar, baby.

ADDENDUM: Ok, I did something with xvid, and now you can see stars. Unfortunately, recompressing the file did not take all the suck out of it. Oh well. It's now 17.9 MB. Enjoy, you chickenshit poltroons.

ADDENDUM 2: While we're on the subject, these are always worth a gander. Find the rest here.

NON-SEQUITUR!! You can see this coming a mile away, but that makes it even better.

6/07/2005 11:50:00 PM | Comments (0)

I Hate It Here

Dear Sons And Daughters Of Hungry Ghosts - Wolf Parade

I hate sportswriters. This has to be one of the most ridiculous jobs in the world doesn't it? You get paid good money to write insights on a fucking game. Who cares? Are we such lemmings that we can't form our own opinions about the sports we watch? I know, I know, you're thinking some of these guys have insider information that we need. Fuck that. I hate ESPN.com these days. I hate Chad Ford. Ford is one of the writers on the website whose articles can only be read if you pay up and subscribe to be an "ESPN Insider". Ooooooh, I'm so fucking impressed. You would think that he would be able to give us information that we can't get anywhere else. Recently, he reported that sources had informed him that the coach of the Detroit Pistons, Larry Brown, had spoken to Cleveland Cavaliers management about becoming their team president. After Brown all but denied that he was taking the job, a fan wrote in questioning Ford's report. Here's some excerpts from Ford's response:

"As I said in my initial report, I do think there's a chance that Larry changes his mind."

"But I still stand by my story that he told two credible league sources that he had decided to take the Cavs offer. Whether he follows through on it is anyone's guess."

So in other words, you have NO FUCKING CLUE. Other shit this guy writes about includes bragging about how he gets to go overseas and watch 7 foot European guys practice drills, which allows him to make statements like, "Nikoz Kazanzakistoupoupoulos might be the next big thing. Or maybe not. Who knows? I licked my dog's asshole this morning." I wouldn't read this guy's articles if they were free (which they are if you know which message boards to visit). Chad Ford isn't a sportswriter, he's a dickless piece of trash with a press pass.

I hate Dan Shanoff, another writer for ESPN.com. He writes this article called The Daily Quickie, which I used to think was pretty good. He's got a decent sense of humour and it is a good way to keep up with top sports stories without having to click a bunch of links. The one annoying quirk he's always had is that he's a fan of "instant history". Like, you know when you watch a movie with someone and they go like, "Oh my God, that was the best movie EVER!!!" I remember, William was saying that about Van Helsing for months. And he was right, but that's besides the point. That's what Dan Shanoff is like with sports. If a pitcher wins a couple of games, that guy is the best...pitcher...ever. If a basketball player has a good game, that player becomes the most important player since Jordan. If a horse wins a fucking derby, that horse is now the Horse God and in his presence we must all grab our ankles and submit. The incident that really set me off also involves one Larry Brown. Last year, when the Pistons won the NBA championship, Shanoff was declaring Brown to be the greatest...NBA coach...ever. I disagreed, but I was like, "Fine, it's just the way this writer is." Recently, with the controversy mentioned above, Shanoff has described Brown as being both "a distraction to his team" and "absolutely pathetic".

Fuck you, man!

Again, I'm not Brown's biggest fan, but if you are then how about standing by him for one second, eh? It was even more glaring when Scoop Jackson, a writer who I wasn't a big fan of before but who is now doing the best work of his life, did a piece on Brown that week that equally weighed his strengths and his flaws while maintaining loyalty to a coach he appreciated. How can you be allowed to write about sports when you don't offer anything that I can't get from talking to a friend or just listening to some random drunk in a bar. Shanoff isn't a sportswriter, he's a sports fan with a big, shiny soapbox full of shit.

Oh, and I almost left out Dave Feschuk of the Toronto Star. I really hate this motherfucker. He's Vince Carter hater #1. Hell, he hates everybody. Everytime something goes wrong, there's always someone to blame. It's Vince's fault. It's Rafer Alston's fault. It's Sam Mitchell's fault. It's Rob Babcock's fault (okay, it usually is). Just the other day he was blaming Babcock for declaring Alonzo Mourning medically ineligible to play and letting him go, when the Miami Heat's recent series against the Pistons (third time this post, hm...) has proven that he is still able to contribute to a team. Babcock is an idiot, but this wasn't his fault. Mourning was not going to put in the effort to get back into playing shape for the Toronto Raptors, so Babcock had no choice but to buy him out. The situation could have been handled better, but really, there's nobody to blame. Feschuk has no concept of this. He isn't a sports writer, he's a politician.

Obviously, I hate Simple Plan. I swear they used to have "A" before their name. I thought these guys were harmless after I'm Just A Kid. And I actually enjoyed Addicted. Perfect should have tipped me off to what these guys were all about, but it wasn't until the musical abortion that is Welcome To My Life that I realized these guys were spawned from the deepest depths of musical Hell. And now Untitled (How Could This Happen To Me?). Where do you start with this atrocious song? The lyrics, obviously. The contrived screaming. The even more contrived video (standing in the rain, looking to the sky, wondering what it all means...ugh). For me, it's just the title. The song is NOT FUCKING UNTITLED YOU RETARDS!!! Just because you call it "Untitled", doesn't make it un-fucking-titled. The song is called "How Could This Happen To Me?" It's in the fucking chorus and it's right next to your precious fucking "Untitled" in fucking parentheses! Stop trying to be artistic and go back to counting your money you worthless shits! And enjoy it, because if I ever, EVER, see one of these guys on the street I'm going to fucking kill him. No joke. Whatever's at my disposal. Hopefully, some sort of firearm. But I could see myself on the streets of Toronto randomly spotting them and having to grab one of the many pipes lining the downtown alleys, ripping it from its restraints and tossing it through however many of them there are. And then I say, "Hey faggots, let off some steam." That or just, "Eat shit and die motherfuckers!!!" It's like that drug dealer in Pulp Fiction says, "No trial, straight to execution." Would any jury in the world convict me?

Oddly, I also hate bands like Queens Of The Stone Age, Weezer and now, Wolf Parade. Everytime I hear one of their songs, I'm struck by the reality of how amateurish my own compositions are. I finally found some time to listen to the Wolf Parade EP I bought at the Arcade Fire concert a while back. It's only 6 songs, about 22 minutes long and I've already listened to it 8000 times over the last 5 days. They're fucking brilliant. The CD drops in September.

I hate my job. More specifically, I hate the customers. I cannot go through one day of work without being reminded how inconsiderate the pieces of shit that make up our clientele are. The parking lot alone is enough to convince one that instant sterilization should be a viable deterrent for the police. People park in spots reserved for the handicapped, spots reserved for people with children, spots that are not so much as spots as ROAD IN FRONT OF THE FUCKING STORE!!! And when they do shit right in front of you, I mean, that's the worst. Customers leave stuff in front of the cash registers at the last minute when they decide they don't want to buy something. And at the end of the day, it's like a hurricane has ravaged the place. These people are supposed to be fucking adults! And the shopping carts...oh, the shopping carts. If you've ever visited the Food Basics I work at, you've seen rows of carts spilling out onto the street. That's because people insist filling up the same row! Sure, they could actually check and see if there's another row to put the cart, but noooooo, that would require them to walk a couple of extra steps into the corrals and that's just too much to ask, isn't it?

My customers are scum and the reason that the world is the way it is today. I do not exaggerate. If these people could take one extra minute every day to think about how their actions might affect someone else...what a world it would be, eh?

And the pay is shit too.

I hate the cast of Sin City. What a cast! I know the movie came out, like, 4 months ago and I've talked about it enough, but I have to just say one more time: The orgies! Can you imagine the orgies! It keeps me up at night. I was also reminded of this by the fact that I suddenly find Angelina Jolie extremely attractive. I'm glad that she ditched the goth look and is now more Hollywood glamour. Wouldn't she have been perfect in Sin City? More importantly, can you imagine how she would have performed in one of those orgies? Elijah Wood might have been killed.

I hate myself. There's not a day that goes by that I don't wake up wishing I was somebody else. I hate that I keep finding myself attracted to underage girls. 16 year olds. I thought this thing I had for Adriana at work was just a weird occurence, a fluke. But there were these girls at my in-class driving lesson who I thought were pretty cute. Now I'm afraid to walk down the street because I might see some girl who I think is pretty hot and we'll make eye contact and then she'll have to go because recess is over.

I hate the way I treat my friends. After our field trip to the Art Gallery of Ontario, I was talking to Nitasha and I told her that I should call her or she should call me and we should hang out. Just the two of us. Did I ever call? No! Why? I forgot, that's why. What the hell is that? I haven't seen Erica in a few weeks. Before that, I had some good times hanging out with her and suddenly I can't be bothered to even call? My friend David invites me to his kickass birthday party where I get a kickass caricature of myself that he and his sister made and I haven't seen him since. Honestly, do you know anyone that preaches the sanctity of friendship so much, while at the same time being completely unreliable and unloyal, as me? I'm sick of myself, I swear.

And I hate that even though things are going real well, I still find myself writing these stupid, petty, self-obsessed posts.

(I'm stopping the Preacher quotes for a bit, not that anybody read them. I'll probably bring them back, seeing as how I saved the best ones. For now, in honour of this bile-filled post, I leave you with Warren Ellis' words of wisdom.)

Transmetropolitan Quotes:
These are the new streets of this city. Where the new scum try to live. You and me. And here in these streets are the things we want: Sex and birth, votes and traits, money and guilt, television and teddy bears. But all we've actually got is each other. You decide what that means.

6/07/2005 12:15:00 AM | Comments (0)

LINK BARRAGE GOGOGOGO!!!

- Sobic's Fun Game 2 seems an awful lot like Magical Drop. I am goddamn terrible at this.

- WHERE ARE ALL YOUR GOD NOW !! I was going to write a clever little post about how The King from those new Burger King commercials creeps me the hell out (especially after seeing that ytmnd page) but it's already been done. Between The King and Ronald "I'm a fucking clown" McDonald, it looks like all the fast food joints aren't merely content on terrorizing my arteries, but also wish to terrorize my nightmares. Even Grimace scares me. I mean...what the fuck is he? How can you fight him if you don't even know what he is? And check out his first appearance - a four armed milkshake stealing mountain of evil. The world is a horrible place.

- Email!!

- WRYYYYYYYYY...anyone ever play Jo Jo's Bizarre Adventure? I haven't, yet I find this incredibly hilarious for some reason.

- Star Wars: Revenge of the Brick is really just an excuse to post this again. OH YEAH!

6/05/2005 12:34:00 PM | Comments (0)

Did you people know all this? That The Big Aristotle "is a few training hours shy of being certified to make arrests, conduct search warrants and carry a .40-caliber pistol"? Could you just imagine what it would be like if it Shaq was there at the Malice At The Palace when Ron Artest and Stephen Jackson flew into the crowd swinging? My brain can't even process the possibilities. It would be insanity. It would be awesome. It would be...Shaqtastic.

6/03/2005 11:22:00 PM | Comments (0)

I haven't posted in a long while - I apologize. No real excuse. I've just been lazy. It's not like I didn't have anything to post about either, at least not for the last couple of days. So let's just get things going again...maybe ease into it with a low-effort Choking Yak's Provoking Facts, because for some reason I'm really feeling tired right now. Get ready for lots of typoS and spelling misteaks! (<- this is funny, because there is a typo and a spelling mistake in the same sentence I said the words "typos and spelling mistakes" in. Or at least tried to say, because as stated above there was a typo and a spelling mistake that prevented the actual words from showing up in their correct form. I AM TOO FUNNY)

- I'm posting this from work. Usually I'm kept pretty busy with tedious bits of work, but right now I'm stuck waiting on someone else. That's the beauty of big companies and big groups - the responsibilities are always spread around so much that you end up using like five people to do the work of one - but slower - because each person has to wait for the previous step to be finished first before it's passed to them. If they gave me proper administrative permissions to write these files to the server, then I wouldn't be stuck here waiting for someone to temporarily grant me them first and I would be done. ...Though on the other hand, I wouldn't blame them for being afraid that I would wreck a million dollar infrastructure by posting Malaysian bear porn into the live production servers. Things like that do happen all the time. Often completely by accident.

- Updating on a previous item, here is a picture from a newspaper clipping of the two Padawans that filled up fluorescent light tubes with petrol. Note the before and after pictures. Does that seem familiar in this context at all? And you know what went wrong, right? He didn't have the higher ground.

- I finished this(?) entire tube of candy Jess got me, in like ten minutes. There's maybe two dozen pieces of hard candy in there - think I'm gonna be sick. The one in the picture doesn't really look like the one I have though - instead of a picture of a hippopotamus(?) on it, it's a picture of a glass of water with a straw in it. That has eyes and is cheering - for the inevitable consumption of the candy, I suppose. And don't ask me how I found that picture - it was a strange and terrifying journey.

- Took me a while, but I've finally found a "Hey Guy" for work. Whenever I see him we exchange a little nod and a "hey." I think that I first heard about the idea from Spin City. (A good sitcom that I feel wasn't as relatively popular as it should have been, along with NewsRadio or maybe even 3rd Rock From The Sun. ...don't know about Just Shoot Me though.) He's like this...40 year-old black guy from...I don't even know...anywhere. He has a thick "black" accent - I'd say it's Jamaican, but I don't really know. I first met him in the elevator during quittin' time and he said some stuff about the weather. He told me his name and we shook hands, but ever since The Philadelphia Contact I have irrationally been unable to shake hands with black people. I was so scared that my mind just blanked, and so I immediately forgot his name two seconds after he told me. But he seems pretty cool. We've shared this coversation maybe a dozen times over already...

Me: Long day?
HG: Oh yeah.
Me: Yeah, tough to be stuck inside on such a nice day.
HG: Yeah, hate to be stuck inside on a day like this.
Me: Yeah, catch you later man. Have fun!
HG: Yeah!

...every goddamn trip down the elevator if I catch him. I have no idea what the hell I'll say if it ever rains. I think I'll just punch him in the face and run.

- Here is where it gets insane. I advise you to stop reading here, and just continue with your life.

See, I've been trying to figure out my very own female celebrity that I can develop an creepy obsession with, and it's been a bit tricky. That is, aside from Jessica Alba. It's like she's my #1 ace (ie. Roy Halladay), but you still need a strong rotation behind her, including a solid #2 starter. Plus, she's everyone's #1, so it's no fun. For awhile back in high school I thought it was Michelle Branch...but I just don't know if she's hot enough to warrant a creepy obsession. Pretty solid, but she just doesn't have the stuff to be a top of the rotation kind of girl. Solid stats, but isn't projected to be anything more than a #4 or #5 - a Towers or Chacin type. So I've been trying to fill that spot in the rotation with various head cases for years, with maybe moderate success at best (ie. Lidle, Escobar, Lilly/Natalie Portman, Britney, Tina Fey).

What's really weird is that lately I've been thinking about Heather Locklear more and more. I even had a dream about her sometime last month...but she was Chinese...and her name was "Melyssa." How my dream managed to specify that her name was spelled with a "Y" or how she managed to be Chinese and yet remain Heather Locklear, I'll never fucking know, but I distinctly remembered that was how it was, and I can't change it. The dream itself is another topic altogether, about how fucking batshit insane I am, but the point is that I've got Heather Locklear on the mind lately, and I don't even know why. I've never been too crazy about blondes either, so it's a bit odd. (Possibly why I dreamed that she was Chinese. The "Melyssa" thing though...I have no idea.)

It's ridiculous how she still looks so good in her forties so I wouldn't say she's past her prime...but this is certainly not a point where she's really that popular. So the timing is bizarre. Also, I only know her from Spin City - I never watched Melrose Place, I unsuccessfully tried to follow LAX before it got canned, and I'm sure as hell not going to see The Perfect Man. So there's no real history, I don't know anything about her.

Is Heather Locklear my Roger Clemens? Someone who should by all means be way past their prime, yet still managing to knock your socks off well into their forties? Clemens' career will probably be defined by his stints with the Sox and the Yankees, but he still had two really good years in Toronto, winning two Cy Youngs here. Heather Locklear's career is defined by Melrose Place, but she was still really good with Spin City, a show I genuinely loved back in the day.

Would it be possible to bring them into the rotation as hired guns? Just to fill in while a younger and more long-term solution is found? Roger Clemens - no. There's big money involved - he's signed to a one year $18 million dollar contract. Even if we sign him near the All-Star break and we're only responsible for the prorated portion and we assume the Astros eat up a bit of his salary, the fact that he has a trade clause that bumps his contract up by $3 million if he's traded still makes him the most expensive hired gun of all time. Something like $10 million for half a year's worth of Roger Clemens pitching every fifth day (assuming he stays healthy which in itself might be a stretch) just isn't worth it. Plus there's the chance he pulls an Alonzo Mourning on us and doesn't report - choosing instead to retire and chill at his ranch in Texas with his family. There will be too many prospects traded, too much money, and too much risk involved. It just doesn't make sense.

Heather Locklear on the other hand, is hot. So I don't see why not.

- I'll post about Anime North 2005 next time. Yeah, I'll probably be just a post - I don't think there's enough material to support a full article. Plus, an article takes significantly more effort to make. It'll just be a relatively bigger post next time then, if at all.

6/02/2005 01:44:00 PM | Comments (0)