Here in the northern hemisphere, summer is upon us. And thoughts of summer fashion spring to mind.
Very funny and well-written article about a subject most of us (I suspect) would rather not think about. As far as I can see, this trend has not made it north of the border. Thank god.
http://newyorkobserver.com/20060605/20060605_Mark_Lotto_homepage_observerclassics.asp
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Yankee Air Go Home!
In heatwave news...
"It just gets hotter and hotter and more humid, and really, we wait anxiously for some Canadian air to kick out this stale American air." said climatologist Dave Phillips.
I blame Bush.
"It just gets hotter and hotter and more humid, and really, we wait anxiously for some Canadian air to kick out this stale American air." said climatologist Dave Phillips.
I blame Bush.
La Mundial
With 9 days to go, today's theme is: Italians!
My very complex system for picking a team is thus. Until I've seen enough of the tournament to select a team based on their play, their enthusiasm, or their spunk, I go with the best-looking of the swarthy teams. This normally means the Italians.
Alas, like good-looking men everywhere, the Italian team are inevitably disappointing.
And this year, with a German Pope, what are the odds that the Germans are going to take it all? How can they not? In the prayer hierarchy, is one German Papal prayer worth more than thousands of Italian nun prayers?
I wonder who Mel Gibson is cheering for.
My very complex system for picking a team is thus. Until I've seen enough of the tournament to select a team based on their play, their enthusiasm, or their spunk, I go with the best-looking of the swarthy teams. This normally means the Italians.
Alas, like good-looking men everywhere, the Italian team are inevitably disappointing.
And this year, with a German Pope, what are the odds that the Germans are going to take it all? How can they not? In the prayer hierarchy, is one German Papal prayer worth more than thousands of Italian nun prayers?
I wonder who Mel Gibson is cheering for.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Quote of the Warm Day
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train
Moving with a simple twist of fate.
Monday, May 29, 2006
kitty cat dance
I'm obsessed with this video. Can't get the song out of my head.
and I dance, dance, dance
http://youtube.com/watch?v=O8hOqsVAgwI&search=dancing%20kitty
and I dance, dance, dance
http://youtube.com/watch?v=O8hOqsVAgwI&search=dancing%20kitty
Quote of the Day
Alcohol will kill anything that's alive
and preserve anything that's dead
(I think maybe Bob stole this one, but I'm givin' him the benefit of the doubt.)
and preserve anything that's dead
(I think maybe Bob stole this one, but I'm givin' him the benefit of the doubt.)
Livin' in a Dream World
Remember, at the start of the Iraq war, the Iraqi Information Minister, the one the Western media called “Baghdad Bob”? He went on and on about how Saddam was winning this great victory while Baghad fell and destruction of the regime was all around him. I remember finding that guy admirable in his stick-to-the-scriptness and hilarious in his insistence on victory in the face of certain defeat. We all enjoyed him, didn’t we? He was so funny.
I think of him every time I read a statement from Bush saying that “Iraq is at a turning point” and “victory is just around the corner”. How many turning points can you have before you realize you’re just going around in a circle. I have no doubt that Bush believes his fantasy as deeply as Iraqi Information Minister believed his. So why aren’t I laughing?
http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com/
That wacky Ahmadinejad again
This story isn’t funny, but this quote is:
“For him [Ahmadinejad] to be at the World Cup and sit in a VIP seat would be a desecration of the memory of the Holocaust."
How often can you get the World Cup and the Holocaust into the same sentence?
Ahmadinejad is that kid on the school bus who keeps bugging you and bugging you and bugging you until you have to punch him in the nose to make him shut up. This being said, I agree with the German government that Mr. Beige Jacket has every right to attend Iran’s games. The Germans want to be good hosts, and I applaud them. But I’d like to see Angela Merkel pinch him really, really hard.
“For him [Ahmadinejad] to be at the World Cup and sit in a VIP seat would be a desecration of the memory of the Holocaust."
How often can you get the World Cup and the Holocaust into the same sentence?
Ahmadinejad is that kid on the school bus who keeps bugging you and bugging you and bugging you until you have to punch him in the nose to make him shut up. This being said, I agree with the German government that Mr. Beige Jacket has every right to attend Iran’s games. The Germans want to be good hosts, and I applaud them. But I’d like to see Angela Merkel pinch him really, really hard.
Remember lingerie, Max?
“If it's all the same to you, I'll drive that tanker.
The offer is closed. Too late for deals.
No deals. I want to drive the truck.
Why? Why the big change of heart?
Believe me, I haven't got a choice.”
Watched The Road Warrior on t.v. this weekend. My favourite movie. The only movie I’ve seen so often I realized I can still recite it all along with the characters and this after not having seen it for several years. I know every shot, every flying body, every collision, every funky vehicle, every wild hairstyle, every growl, sneer and grimace by heart.
I saw The Road Warrior at least 12 times at repertory theatres in the 1980s. And that is why I dislike VCRs and DVDs. Because there’s no reason to go back to the cinema 12 times to see a movie you really like. You buy the DVD and watch it at your leisure. Without any ceremony, any tradition, any sense of it being an event. This is a loss. You don’t pick up a rep schedule and say: “Yay, look what’s playing this month”. At least not in Montreal anymore.
Another example: When Branagh’s Henry V came out, I saw it twice in the same week. As soon as it was over, I knew I needed to see it again. So I went back three days later. And then I saw it again about a month after that. I’ve come across it a few times on t.v. since then and I have to stop what I’m doing and watch it to the end. Have to watch it right up until the battle is over and they collect the dead and sing the Non Nobis and Te Deum.
The last movie I saw that I knew I wanted to see again was Brokeback. But I didn’t see it again at the theatre because I knew that the DVD would be out in 6 months or so and that I would buy it. It’s good on DVD but that scenery, the big sky, those mountains, the hillsides full of sheep, they demand a big screen, but I know I won’t see it again on a big screen. Because I don’t have to. And that is a drag.
The offer is closed. Too late for deals.
No deals. I want to drive the truck.
Why? Why the big change of heart?
Believe me, I haven't got a choice.”
Watched The Road Warrior on t.v. this weekend. My favourite movie. The only movie I’ve seen so often I realized I can still recite it all along with the characters and this after not having seen it for several years. I know every shot, every flying body, every collision, every funky vehicle, every wild hairstyle, every growl, sneer and grimace by heart.
I saw The Road Warrior at least 12 times at repertory theatres in the 1980s. And that is why I dislike VCRs and DVDs. Because there’s no reason to go back to the cinema 12 times to see a movie you really like. You buy the DVD and watch it at your leisure. Without any ceremony, any tradition, any sense of it being an event. This is a loss. You don’t pick up a rep schedule and say: “Yay, look what’s playing this month”. At least not in Montreal anymore.
Another example: When Branagh’s Henry V came out, I saw it twice in the same week. As soon as it was over, I knew I needed to see it again. So I went back three days later. And then I saw it again about a month after that. I’ve come across it a few times on t.v. since then and I have to stop what I’m doing and watch it to the end. Have to watch it right up until the battle is over and they collect the dead and sing the Non Nobis and Te Deum.
The last movie I saw that I knew I wanted to see again was Brokeback. But I didn’t see it again at the theatre because I knew that the DVD would be out in 6 months or so and that I would buy it. It’s good on DVD but that scenery, the big sky, those mountains, the hillsides full of sheep, they demand a big screen, but I know I won’t see it again on a big screen. Because I don’t have to. And that is a drag.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Quote of the Day
By the old wooden stove where our hats was hung,
Our words were told, our songs were sung,
Our words were told, our songs were sung,
A Quick Note on Bob
I know, I know, nobody cares, but I’ve been listening to Bob’s radio show that I have found on the Internet. This must be copyright infringement so I’m sure the site will have to close down soon, but at least I’m catching some of it now.
Anyway, my point is not that it is great because it’s Bob, although Bob is tres cool, and apparently was born to be a deejay, who knew? The point is that Bob is playing the most obscure and fantastic old records I’ve ever heard. He has great taste. Big surprise. I’m flabbergasted, delighted and thrilled by the records he’s playing. It reminds me a lot of some CBC shows where you hear tunes you never hear anywhere else.
Should you care (and I know you don’t) you can find Bob at: www.whitemanstew.com/2006/05/12/bob-dylans-theme-time-radio-hour
Is anybody still making records that sound like this? Probably not. What a loss.
Anyway, my point is not that it is great because it’s Bob, although Bob is tres cool, and apparently was born to be a deejay, who knew? The point is that Bob is playing the most obscure and fantastic old records I’ve ever heard. He has great taste. Big surprise. I’m flabbergasted, delighted and thrilled by the records he’s playing. It reminds me a lot of some CBC shows where you hear tunes you never hear anywhere else.
Should you care (and I know you don’t) you can find Bob at: www.whitemanstew.com/2006/05/12/bob-dylans-theme-time-radio-hour
Is anybody still making records that sound like this? Probably not. What a loss.
The Woes of the Short
This has the makings of a continuing series.
The saga of short-statured adults is a story of taking one baby step forward and two baby steps back.
There’s always a downer. Fresh on the heels of last week’s great news that we can commit crimes with impunity because we are too short to serve time, comes this bad news from the NY Times. Yes, I didn’t have to go to the Globe & Mail for my weekend irritant, I found it on-line in the Times.
The Petite Department is going the way of the 8-track player. Apparently short women no longer exist so there is no need to cater to this now-mythical clientele. Start rolling up your sleeves and cuffs.
I grow old, I grow old I must keep the bottoms of my trousers rolled,
because I have no choice,
because they don’t make any trousers in my size anymore, the scummy capitalists.
My favourite quote: "Petite women, [executives] said, would rather wear the more youthful, skin-baring and tighter-fitting clothing in the contemporary departments, even if it does not fit them as well." I’m sorry but this is utter, utter bullshit.
I just re-read the quote, man, that is so insulting. Short women would rather wear something trendy that doesn’t fit them, than wear comfortable well-fitting clothes. Says who? Argh!
The saga of short-statured adults is a story of taking one baby step forward and two baby steps back.
There’s always a downer. Fresh on the heels of last week’s great news that we can commit crimes with impunity because we are too short to serve time, comes this bad news from the NY Times. Yes, I didn’t have to go to the Globe & Mail for my weekend irritant, I found it on-line in the Times.
The Petite Department is going the way of the 8-track player. Apparently short women no longer exist so there is no need to cater to this now-mythical clientele. Start rolling up your sleeves and cuffs.
I grow old, I grow old I must keep the bottoms of my trousers rolled,
because I have no choice,
because they don’t make any trousers in my size anymore, the scummy capitalists.
My favourite quote: "Petite women, [executives] said, would rather wear the more youthful, skin-baring and tighter-fitting clothing in the contemporary departments, even if it does not fit them as well." I’m sorry but this is utter, utter bullshit.
I just re-read the quote, man, that is so insulting. Short women would rather wear something trendy that doesn’t fit them, than wear comfortable well-fitting clothes. Says who? Argh!
The Weather's Too Nice for Blogging
This happens to Canadians as soon as summer arrives. We can't stay in the house or we feel like we're missing something. I should have time to read yesterday's Globe today (in the back yard in the sun, with a cool beverage) so maybe something in the Style section will compel me to come here and rant. We'll see... or maybe the good weather will give me immunity even from the silliness of the the Saturday Globe. hmmm.
Congratulations Oilers!!
Congratulations Oilers!!
Friday, May 26, 2006
I got 2 inches to spare
In Today’s News…
“A judge in Nebraska sentenced a convicted child molester to probation instead of prison, saying she believed the man's short stature would cause him harm in prison. The judge said she believed the 5-foot-1 Thompson would not survive in a state prison because he was too small.
Nebraska's attorney general has vowed to appeal the sentence, saying it sends the wrong message to victims and criminals. The legal director of the American Civil Liberties Union called the sentence surprising, saying neither the U.S. nor the state constitution provides protection based on physical size.
But a spokesman for the National Organization of Short Statured Adults — a group that represents men 5-foot-7 and below and women 5-foot-2 and below — applauded the ruling. Joe Mangano agreed Thompson would face dangers while in prison due to his height. "It's good to see somebody looking out for someone who is a short person," said Mangano.”
My weekend “To Do” list:
1. Join the NOSSA
2. Go to Nebraska
3. Engage in killing spree
4. Get away with it.
“A judge in Nebraska sentenced a convicted child molester to probation instead of prison, saying she believed the man's short stature would cause him harm in prison. The judge said she believed the 5-foot-1 Thompson would not survive in a state prison because he was too small.
Nebraska's attorney general has vowed to appeal the sentence, saying it sends the wrong message to victims and criminals. The legal director of the American Civil Liberties Union called the sentence surprising, saying neither the U.S. nor the state constitution provides protection based on physical size.
But a spokesman for the National Organization of Short Statured Adults — a group that represents men 5-foot-7 and below and women 5-foot-2 and below — applauded the ruling. Joe Mangano agreed Thompson would face dangers while in prison due to his height. "It's good to see somebody looking out for someone who is a short person," said Mangano.”
My weekend “To Do” list:
1. Join the NOSSA
2. Go to Nebraska
3. Engage in killing spree
4. Get away with it.
Chatelaine
There’s a lot of talk on the publishing pages about the new editor of Chatelaine magazine. For non-Canadians, Chatelaine is an iconic Canadian women’s magazine. I remember first seeing it at my grandmother’s house, then my mother subscribed to both the English and French versions. So when you hit middle-age in Canada, it seems to be a given that you start subscribing to Chatelaine. So I did this a couple of years ago, when an offer of a cheap subscription came in the mail. For the first year or so, I liked it. It was what I expected. Then the magazine when through a change of editor and that brought a change in format and content, and frankly, I think the magazine totally stinks now. It is boring, trite, says nothing new, and tries way too hard to be Cosmo girly about sex. It’s just dumb and insulting .
But when I renewed my subscription (when it was still alright) they accidentally renewed it for two years instead of one, and they never cashed my cheque, so I am getting this now crappy magazine free for two years. This isn’t necessarily a good thing. I thumb through it, go “bleh” and it goes into recycling pretty darn quick.
I am curious to see if this latest change in editors will make a big difference. I’m not optimistic. But it certainly can’t get any worse.
14 Days to World Cup
With two weeks to go, I present a photo posted solely to provoke delighted squeals from Western Canada. Go Italia!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
I've never seen the show, but
that doesn't mean I can't have an opinion. Hee.
Boldly venturing into a world I know nothing about, I'm just skimming an article in the Washington Post that wonders if American Idol is "fixed". All I can think is: who cares if it is? They're not electing a government. It's just like the game show scandals of the 50's. (Remember Rafe as Charles van Doren, of course I do.) So what if the winner is decided ahead of time. It's a t.v. show.
Obviously this proves I've never watched the show, but it seems to me that the whole conspiracy angle would just make people talk about the show even more and make it more and more popular. Won't people watch just because it makes them mad? Viewers love to get upset about unfairness, no? I think so.
This being said, why do I think it is just a matter of time before some crazed fan of some nobody contestant shoots Simon Cowell? And what does it say about the saturation level of this show that I even know who Simon Cowell is and that I know he is the bitchy “bad guy”.
Boldly venturing into a world I know nothing about, I'm just skimming an article in the Washington Post that wonders if American Idol is "fixed". All I can think is: who cares if it is? They're not electing a government. It's just like the game show scandals of the 50's. (Remember Rafe as Charles van Doren, of course I do.) So what if the winner is decided ahead of time. It's a t.v. show.
Obviously this proves I've never watched the show, but it seems to me that the whole conspiracy angle would just make people talk about the show even more and make it more and more popular. Won't people watch just because it makes them mad? Viewers love to get upset about unfairness, no? I think so.
This being said, why do I think it is just a matter of time before some crazed fan of some nobody contestant shoots Simon Cowell? And what does it say about the saturation level of this show that I even know who Simon Cowell is and that I know he is the bitchy “bad guy”.
I'm coming out of the closet
Poking my head out, looking both ways, sniffing the air, thinking it’s safe. The current atmosphere leads me to believe it is an appropriate time to make this declaration. I have kept my secret since 1992, but now indicators point to a friendly receptive environment. I have kept my opinion to myself for fear of ridicule, but in every person’s life there comes a time when he or she cannot keep quiet anymore. So here it is: I think Al Gore is really cool.
Go ahead, mock me. I don’t care. Oh, I feel so free. Yay.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Quote of the Day - Special Double Birthday Edition
“If it’s quiet, I will sing.” —Dylan, age four, responding to a request that he perform Accentuate the Positive at an aunt’s wedding reception, 1945.
Reporter: “Does it take a lot of trouble to get your hair like that?”
Dylan: “No, you just have to sleep on it for about 20 years."
—Sydney Morning Herald, 1963
Reporter: “Does it take a lot of trouble to get your hair like that?”
Dylan: “No, you just have to sleep on it for about 20 years."
—Sydney Morning Herald, 1963
Go Oilers
My favourite moment during last night’s Oilers-Ducks game (besides Edmonton winning) was a crowd reaction shot after Edmonton’s third goal when we saw a squat middle-aged Muslim lady in her pink hijab and silver pom-poms cheering wildly like all the other crazy fans in the arena. Then she hugged her husband who looked embarrassed. It was very cute.
The Man is 65 years old today!
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday deeeeaaarr Bobby D
Happy Birthday to you.
I hereby officially declare that everybody can take the day off to celebrate.
In Dylan’s honour you must sing nasally, drink liberally, tell terrible jokes and never, ever stop moving, travelling, creating, and re-inventing yourself. We’re all going to get old so we might as well do it Bob’s way.
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday deeeeaaarr Bobby D
Happy Birthday to you.
I hereby officially declare that everybody can take the day off to celebrate.
In Dylan’s honour you must sing nasally, drink liberally, tell terrible jokes and never, ever stop moving, travelling, creating, and re-inventing yourself. We’re all going to get old so we might as well do it Bob’s way.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
I love Severus Snape
My life in a nutshell. I’m the person who is not only late for the party, I don’t even know the party is going on. Party, what party? Where? There’s a party?
Please feel free to tell me what is "in" right now so that I know what I’ll be getting into in 2008.
I live perpetually behind the 8 ball.
Case in point. Over the incredibly cold, rainy and miserable holiday weekend, I read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I’ve read the 6 HP books in the past 6 months and I’m now up to date on the book that everybody else read last year.
What I discovered is that there are two tales in these books: the story for the kids where Harry is the hero and the story for adults where Snape is the hero, anti-hero, protagonist, etc. In these books good and evil are clearly defined. Overall there’s no mistaking the good guys and the baddies. But smack in the centre of it all, sits the mysterious, endlessly fascinating Snape.
Here I was reading Half Blood Prince enthralled by the story of Snape, his history, the wholeness of his character, his inner conflicts, his insecurity, his deception, his courage, his pain and his sacrifice. And foolishly thinking I was the only person who saw all this.
So I go on the Internet, and whoa, it’s Snapeworld out there. Everybody loves Severus. Essays galore and fan fiction. Adult fan fiction. Very adult fan fiction. About Snape! I blush.
(An aside. Fan fiction. I don’t get it. What’s the point? The first time I ever came across fan fiction was on a web site about the show "Oz" and I thought holy smoke, a lot people like to write pornography about Chris Meloni. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I dunno. I still don’t get fan fiction.)
So people write fan fic about Snape. Bondage Snape fan fic. This is just plain wrong.
Apparently a major reason behind all this Snape-appeal comes from the fact that he is portrayed in the movies by the wonderful Alan Rickman. I got no problem with that. I like Alan Rickman as much as the next girl. (Except in Love, Actually, but that’s another post. I didn’t hate Rickman personally in Love, Actually, but god how I hated his character. What a lying so-and-so. Oooh, I’m still mad at him.) But really it’s Snape as he is written in the books, particularly HBP, that I love. So complex and mean and cold and delightful, in all his greasy, miserable, yellow-teethed bitterness. What’s not to love.
Please feel free to tell me what is "in" right now so that I know what I’ll be getting into in 2008.
I live perpetually behind the 8 ball.
Case in point. Over the incredibly cold, rainy and miserable holiday weekend, I read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I’ve read the 6 HP books in the past 6 months and I’m now up to date on the book that everybody else read last year.
What I discovered is that there are two tales in these books: the story for the kids where Harry is the hero and the story for adults where Snape is the hero, anti-hero, protagonist, etc. In these books good and evil are clearly defined. Overall there’s no mistaking the good guys and the baddies. But smack in the centre of it all, sits the mysterious, endlessly fascinating Snape.
Here I was reading Half Blood Prince enthralled by the story of Snape, his history, the wholeness of his character, his inner conflicts, his insecurity, his deception, his courage, his pain and his sacrifice. And foolishly thinking I was the only person who saw all this.
So I go on the Internet, and whoa, it’s Snapeworld out there. Everybody loves Severus. Essays galore and fan fiction. Adult fan fiction. Very adult fan fiction. About Snape! I blush.
(An aside. Fan fiction. I don’t get it. What’s the point? The first time I ever came across fan fiction was on a web site about the show "Oz" and I thought holy smoke, a lot people like to write pornography about Chris Meloni. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I dunno. I still don’t get fan fiction.)
So people write fan fic about Snape. Bondage Snape fan fic. This is just plain wrong.
Apparently a major reason behind all this Snape-appeal comes from the fact that he is portrayed in the movies by the wonderful Alan Rickman. I got no problem with that. I like Alan Rickman as much as the next girl. (Except in Love, Actually, but that’s another post. I didn’t hate Rickman personally in Love, Actually, but god how I hated his character. What a lying so-and-so. Oooh, I’m still mad at him.) But really it’s Snape as he is written in the books, particularly HBP, that I love. So complex and mean and cold and delightful, in all his greasy, miserable, yellow-teethed bitterness. What’s not to love.
17 days to go
Ugly story on the news this morning about an increase in racist incidents in Germany leading up to the World Cup. Between this and the Italian scandal, I can’t wait for the actual tournament to start so we can just watch the games and try to forget about all the nastiness surrounding the event.
This being said, I offer a little cheerer upper here….
This being said, I offer a little cheerer upper here….
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Fun with Sammy B.
Not a lot of complaints about the Saturday Globe this week. I enjoyed Ian Brown’s article on reading, or trying to read, Samuel Beckett. It piqued my interest.
Brown said he was so exhausted by Beckett he took his breaks by going out and sitting in his car, in the rain, and listening to Led Zeppelin. I’ve never gone and just sat in the car without going anywhere. Is this common? Do people just sit in their cars to get away (without literally getting away) from things? I find this peculiar.
Salman Rushdie says that getting a headache is "not an inappropriate response" to reading Beckett. This appeals to me. Reading a writer whose writing will give me a headache.
I’m a big fan of David Foster Wallace’s books, and I like reading sentences that go round and round and round until I want to scream. Someday I’ll figure out where the fun lies in this.
Brown said he was so exhausted by Beckett he took his breaks by going out and sitting in his car, in the rain, and listening to Led Zeppelin. I’ve never gone and just sat in the car without going anywhere. Is this common? Do people just sit in their cars to get away (without literally getting away) from things? I find this peculiar.
Salman Rushdie says that getting a headache is "not an inappropriate response" to reading Beckett. This appeals to me. Reading a writer whose writing will give me a headache.
I’m a big fan of David Foster Wallace’s books, and I like reading sentences that go round and round and round until I want to scream. Someday I’ll figure out where the fun lies in this.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Long Weird Quote of the Day
Well, I woke up in the morning
There's frogs inside my socks
Your mama, she's a-hidin'
Inside the icebox
Your daddy walks in wearin'
A Napoleon Bonaparte mask
Then you ask why I don't live here
Honey, do you have to ask?
There's frogs inside my socks
Your mama, she's a-hidin'
Inside the icebox
Your daddy walks in wearin'
A Napoleon Bonaparte mask
Then you ask why I don't live here
Honey, do you have to ask?
What's in a face?
Saw Thank You for Smoking today. Not a bad movie. A couple of laugh-out loud things, the main one being an incredibly funny shot of Rob Lowe wearing a kimono.
But he’s not the subject here. The subject is Aaron Eckhart. Looking through his particulars on the IMDB I realize that I haven’t seen him in any other movie except In the Company of Men. So my question is, is his face his destiny? Meaning, has he ever played a character who wasn’t a totally arrogant s.o.b.? Because he does have the quintessential face of a totally arrogant s.o.b. This may sound like I don’t like him, but I do, and I do think he is handsome. Does he only play awful, awful men? I suspect he has been doomed by his ridiculously cleft chin. It screams arrogance.
I tried to find a suitable picture, but this is what I came up with. He actually looks kinda nice here. Maybe I’m defeating my whole premise with this conflicting visual ...
But he’s not the subject here. The subject is Aaron Eckhart. Looking through his particulars on the IMDB I realize that I haven’t seen him in any other movie except In the Company of Men. So my question is, is his face his destiny? Meaning, has he ever played a character who wasn’t a totally arrogant s.o.b.? Because he does have the quintessential face of a totally arrogant s.o.b. This may sound like I don’t like him, but I do, and I do think he is handsome. Does he only play awful, awful men? I suspect he has been doomed by his ridiculously cleft chin. It screams arrogance.
I tried to find a suitable picture, but this is what I came up with. He actually looks kinda nice here. Maybe I’m defeating my whole premise with this conflicting visual ...
They Always Get Their Man
Last night on the news on Radio Canada (that would be Radio Canada TV, not Radio Canada radio) there was a nice little story about two Mounties who are getting married. The thing is, they are both male Mounties. Apparently this will be the first same sex marriage between members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. This wedding will be taking place in that hot bed (!) of homosexual activism, New Brunswick. And both guys will be getting married in their dress uniforms, i.e. those familiar red tunics. I hope they bring their hats! They will look so smart. Won’t that be nice? The guys were so bashful and cute and in love, the whole story just made me go aw-shucks. Good for them
On Mixed Marriages
Item 1.
Listening to Froggy Went A Courtin’ on the new Springsteen CD had been keeping me up nights pondering a burning question. As the song goes, Froggy proposed to and married Miss Mouse. I had been really bothered by whether a frog and a mouse could mate. Springsteen is mum on the subject, but it turns out Pete Seeger had dealt with this issue in his version of the song. Apparently, according to Seeger, the offspring of Froggy and Miss Mouse were furry tadpoles. I can die happy, all is resolved. That is such a load off my mind.
Item 2.
This afternoon, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I was reminded of a joke that, as a kid, I thought was absolutely hilarious. I wish I knew what brought it back to mind.
Why did the Irish potato and the Idaho potato not want their daughter, the sweet potato, to marry Walter Cronkite?
Because he was a commentator.
.
.
.
The thought that occurred to me today but never did 30 years ago was: Why did Walter Cronkite want to marry a potato?
Listening to Froggy Went A Courtin’ on the new Springsteen CD had been keeping me up nights pondering a burning question. As the song goes, Froggy proposed to and married Miss Mouse. I had been really bothered by whether a frog and a mouse could mate. Springsteen is mum on the subject, but it turns out Pete Seeger had dealt with this issue in his version of the song. Apparently, according to Seeger, the offspring of Froggy and Miss Mouse were furry tadpoles. I can die happy, all is resolved. That is such a load off my mind.
Item 2.
This afternoon, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I was reminded of a joke that, as a kid, I thought was absolutely hilarious. I wish I knew what brought it back to mind.
Why did the Irish potato and the Idaho potato not want their daughter, the sweet potato, to marry Walter Cronkite?
Because he was a commentator.
.
.
.
The thought that occurred to me today but never did 30 years ago was: Why did Walter Cronkite want to marry a potato?
Friday, May 19, 2006
Quote of the Day
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am,
But everybody wants you
To be just like them.
They sing while you slave and I just get bored.
To be just like I am,
But everybody wants you
To be just like them.
They sing while you slave and I just get bored.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
In Religious News...
Harpers reports: “In Kenya pilgrims were traveling to Mombasa to see a miraculous tuna with a Koranic verse inscribed into its scales. "God," reads the tuna, "is the greatest of all providers."
I accept that this is pretty impressive, but can it compete with Asparagus Jesus?
I’m a bit skeptical on this one. Is it still miraculous if a dead asparagus plant looks not like Jesus but like some other guy with a beard. This plant doesn’t look like Jesus to me; it looks more like Paul Bunyan.
I accept that this is pretty impressive, but can it compete with Asparagus Jesus?
I’m a bit skeptical on this one. Is it still miraculous if a dead asparagus plant looks not like Jesus but like some other guy with a beard. This plant doesn’t look like Jesus to me; it looks more like Paul Bunyan.
I've solved my problem
I’ve got it. I’m going on the Opus Dei diet, and I'll be writing the Opus Dei Diet (ODD) Book at the same time. This is the royal road to riches for me.
ODD tip No. 1:
“Meals : Numeraries generally practice one small corporal mortification at every meal, such as drinking coffee without milk or sugar, not buttering one's toast, skipping dessert, not taking seconds, etc. For the most part, eating between meals is not practiced.” *
Coffee without milk or sugar? Ouch!
Butterless toast? Ouch, ouch!
No taking seconds? Ouch, ouch, ouch!
No eating between meals? UNCLE!
I can feel the pounds melting away already.
ODD tip No. 2:
“The Heroic Minute : Numeraries are encouraged to jump out of bed and kiss the floor as soon as the door is knocked in the morning.”*
This is basically a religious burpee. I’d suggest 10 in the morning and 10 at night for overall fitness.
ODD tip NO. 3
“Discipline: a cord-like whip which resembles macrame, used on the buttocks or back once a week.”*
There is no indication that this will break up cellulite, but it’s a given, right? How can it not.
*Source: http://www.odan.org/corporal_mortification.htm
ODD tip No. 1:
“Meals : Numeraries generally practice one small corporal mortification at every meal, such as drinking coffee without milk or sugar, not buttering one's toast, skipping dessert, not taking seconds, etc. For the most part, eating between meals is not practiced.” *
Coffee without milk or sugar? Ouch!
Butterless toast? Ouch, ouch!
No taking seconds? Ouch, ouch, ouch!
No eating between meals? UNCLE!
I can feel the pounds melting away already.
ODD tip No. 2:
“The Heroic Minute : Numeraries are encouraged to jump out of bed and kiss the floor as soon as the door is knocked in the morning.”*
This is basically a religious burpee. I’d suggest 10 in the morning and 10 at night for overall fitness.
ODD tip NO. 3
“Discipline: a cord-like whip which resembles macrame, used on the buttocks or back once a week.”*
There is no indication that this will break up cellulite, but it’s a given, right? How can it not.
*Source: http://www.odan.org/corporal_mortification.htm
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Farewell My Lovelies...or...Adios Amigos
I must bid adieu to my beloved Doritos. I had a doctor’s appointment today and Dr. S. told me I had to lose some weight before I saw him again in 6 months or else he’d be strongly recommending cholesterol medication. We’ve been playing this game for several years now. I’ve behaved myself just enough to dodge the medicine threat, year-in and year-out. But this time, I think he’s serious. Wah!
When I got back to the office this afternoon, I really wanted a cookie to drown my sorrows, but I had a banana instead. Just for this, I swear, I feel like somebody should give me a medal.
Oh, the sacrifice. I wanted to say to him: Just how many vices do you think I have? Food is it, honey. Take away my snacks and I might as well throw in the towel on all fun. I cannot live on Yop alone...as tasty as it is.
When I got back to the office this afternoon, I really wanted a cookie to drown my sorrows, but I had a banana instead. Just for this, I swear, I feel like somebody should give me a medal.
Oh, the sacrifice. I wanted to say to him: Just how many vices do you think I have? Food is it, honey. Take away my snacks and I might as well throw in the towel on all fun. I cannot live on Yop alone...as tasty as it is.
Opie Dei
Critics at Cannes hate The Da Vinci Code. Quelle surprise.
I haven’t read the book and am not planning to see the movie, but I still think this smells of Cannes snobbery. Good luck with the Da Vinci backlash, French snobs. My fearless prediction: Like Passion of the Christ, this will be a huge hit despite critical panning.
I’m indifferent to Ron Howard’s movies, but I don’t imagine anyone in Hollywood expected him to make a film that was unusual or groundbreaking. He’s a mainstream director who makes mainstream blockbusters. How safe can you get? So I expect Da Vinci to be safe. It stars Tom Hanks, for heaven’s sake. The ultimate middle-of-the-road-everyman. Who knows, I may end up seeing it. And I don’t expect my sensibilities to be offended in any way whatsoever.
According to the US National Organization for Albinism and Hypopigmentation*, Da Vinci will be "the 68th movie since 1960 to feature an evil albino". That weird fact alone makes me a little bit interested in seeing it. And Paul Bethany plays the evil albino and I like him a lot. So maybe…
*Yep, who knew they had an organization. The things you learn on the Internet.
I haven’t read the book and am not planning to see the movie, but I still think this smells of Cannes snobbery. Good luck with the Da Vinci backlash, French snobs. My fearless prediction: Like Passion of the Christ, this will be a huge hit despite critical panning.
I’m indifferent to Ron Howard’s movies, but I don’t imagine anyone in Hollywood expected him to make a film that was unusual or groundbreaking. He’s a mainstream director who makes mainstream blockbusters. How safe can you get? So I expect Da Vinci to be safe. It stars Tom Hanks, for heaven’s sake. The ultimate middle-of-the-road-everyman. Who knows, I may end up seeing it. And I don’t expect my sensibilities to be offended in any way whatsoever.
According to the US National Organization for Albinism and Hypopigmentation*, Da Vinci will be "the 68th movie since 1960 to feature an evil albino". That weird fact alone makes me a little bit interested in seeing it. And Paul Bethany plays the evil albino and I like him a lot. So maybe…
*Yep, who knew they had an organization. The things you learn on the Internet.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Weird Fact
Public disclosure laws oblige the President and the Vice President of the United States to publicly declare what they gave each other as Christmas presents. I kid you not.
Last year, Darth Vader gave the Chimp a pair of binoculars ($400) while the Chimp gave Darth a hammock ($338). A hammock? whatever.
Last year, Darth Vader gave the Chimp a pair of binoculars ($400) while the Chimp gave Darth a hammock ($338). A hammock? whatever.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Quote of the Day
Heard one hundred* drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
This is my one hundredth post. Already one hundred!
Free Yop for everybody. wheeeee.
This is my one hundredth post. Already one hundred!
Free Yop for everybody. wheeeee.
Go ahead, call me a corporate shill
But I love the Bell beavers.
I can't help it. I have a soft spot for goofiness.
Help, help! We're being seduced
“I don't think I've ever been accused of seducing anyone, even my wife." – Stephen Harper.
Forget about seducing just one person, Harper is in province-wide seduction mode, wooing Quebec in full Casanova gear. And, gulp, we are falling for him.
Ontario is in a snit, jealous of all the attention Quebec is getting. It’s fun to upset Ontario. Who doesn’t like to upset Ontario?
I have to hand it to Steve-o, he knows us. He knows that there is nothing Quebec likes more than to be given more attention than every other province and promised yummy treats. We feel we deserve it because…well, I don’t know why exactly, but we have that pouty-face culture of entitlement and if Ottawa doesn’t give us our roses and chocolates, we cry and stamp our feet and threaten to run home to mother.
I know he needs Quebec to form a majority govt next time, but what’s he really up to? Surely we’re going to be told to wrap a sheet around our trashy selves and hit the highway the day after we succumb and vote him in, aren’t we? He’ll act like we never have met.
I hate admitting I think he’s smart, but I admit it: I think he’s smart. And lucky. Taking advantage of the current political situation here is smart. Having an ally in the Quebec Premier, Charest the frizzy weasel? I mean how lucky can Stevie get. How rare is it to have a) a Quebec premier who wants to deal and b) a weak PQ leader who is getting no respect from the saps who have quickly realized there’s no “there” there. Suddenly everybody’s meeting at the bistro (smoking while they are still allowed to) and thinking “these Conservatives, they are not so bad.”
The planets are aligned for Steve Wonder.
Forget about seducing just one person, Harper is in province-wide seduction mode, wooing Quebec in full Casanova gear. And, gulp, we are falling for him.
Ontario is in a snit, jealous of all the attention Quebec is getting. It’s fun to upset Ontario. Who doesn’t like to upset Ontario?
I have to hand it to Steve-o, he knows us. He knows that there is nothing Quebec likes more than to be given more attention than every other province and promised yummy treats. We feel we deserve it because…well, I don’t know why exactly, but we have that pouty-face culture of entitlement and if Ottawa doesn’t give us our roses and chocolates, we cry and stamp our feet and threaten to run home to mother.
I know he needs Quebec to form a majority govt next time, but what’s he really up to? Surely we’re going to be told to wrap a sheet around our trashy selves and hit the highway the day after we succumb and vote him in, aren’t we? He’ll act like we never have met.
I hate admitting I think he’s smart, but I admit it: I think he’s smart. And lucky. Taking advantage of the current political situation here is smart. Having an ally in the Quebec Premier, Charest the frizzy weasel? I mean how lucky can Stevie get. How rare is it to have a) a Quebec premier who wants to deal and b) a weak PQ leader who is getting no respect from the saps who have quickly realized there’s no “there” there. Suddenly everybody’s meeting at the bistro (smoking while they are still allowed to) and thinking “these Conservatives, they are not so bad.”
The planets are aligned for Steve Wonder.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Quote for Today
I'm forty miles from the mill
I'm droppin' it into overdrive
Settin' my dial on the radio
I wish my mother was still alive
I'm droppin' it into overdrive
Settin' my dial on the radio
I wish my mother was still alive
Happy Mothers Day
Mothers Day greetings to all the mothers out there.
If you still have your mother, I hope you thought about her today.
If you don't have your mother anymore, I KNOW you thought about her today.
If you still have your mother, I hope you thought about her today.
If you don't have your mother anymore, I KNOW you thought about her today.
Important Notice!
Tried a new flavour of Doritos today. They are called: Sweet Chili Heat. And ohmygod are they ever hot. I prefer the French name: Piment Infernal. I love the idea of a chip generating infernal heat.
Thumbs up.
Thumbs up.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Quote of the Day
Well, I looked at my watch
I looked at my wrist
Punched myself in the face
With my fist
I looked at my wrist
Punched myself in the face
With my fist
Buffalo wins Series
They deserve to win. Good for them. Ottawa clearly has some kind of deep-seated playoff unworthiness issue. They should get help.
Now, do I dare care about Edmonton, or will they just disappoint me?
Oh, what the heck, Go Oilers!
Now, do I dare care about Edmonton, or will they just disappoint me?
Oh, what the heck, Go Oilers!
Quiet Saturday = Time for a Rant
A hard rain’s a been a-fallin’ all day. I’m very happy about this because when I got home on Thursday there was a little flag on my lawn indicating that the fertilizer guys had been by for their first visit of the season (no toxic chemicals). And they left that little note I hate so much, the one that says: "Water after this application." I haven’t even dragged the garden hose out of the basement yet, so there was no way in heck I was going to "water after this application". So I did the next best thing... turned on The Weather Network and prayed for rain. And my prayers were answered. Hallelujah.
So a rainy day allows me to partake in my favourite masochistic weekend pastime, reading the Saturday Globe & Mail!
I figured it out today. When I read the Style Section of the Saturday Globe I become Ignatius J. Reilly at the movies. I yearn to bellow at the top of my lungs: "Who is responsible for this abomination?" making everyone around me run for the exit. But since Miss Hitler was sleeping angelically on my lap as I read, I limited myself to snorting derisively. The object of my derision?
Boomers. God how I hate them. Yeah, I confess my unending, passionate hatred for an identifiable group. It’s those Boomers.
I don’t know if I am a tail-end Boomer or a Preemie Gen Xer. There is some scholarly debate about which year signifies the transition. Regardless. I hate Boomers. In today’s Globe the focus is on how incredibly sexy female Boomers are, and how all these 50-something women have 30-year-old hot stud lovers who "go all night". But don’t call these ladies "cougars" because that implies they are aging and that’s insulting. Got it?
In their usual balanced way the Style section included one article opposing the sexed-up Boomer argument (by the female writer we should all pity, I suppose) versus three pro sexy Boomers articles, so you know where the 50-something editors of the Globe stand on the 50-something sexy Boomer issue. Boomers want to redefine every "life stage" as they goes through it. Yawn. Guess what, they may fool themselves but they aren’t fooling the rest of us, those who came before them and those of us trailing along behind.
The problem is that by the time I’m 50, 50 won’t be sexy anymore. It’ll be all the hot 60-year-old babes that will be hoarding the Latino cabana boys and there’ll be nothing left for the Janey-come-lately’s like me. Life is so unfair.
So a rainy day allows me to partake in my favourite masochistic weekend pastime, reading the Saturday Globe & Mail!
I figured it out today. When I read the Style Section of the Saturday Globe I become Ignatius J. Reilly at the movies. I yearn to bellow at the top of my lungs: "Who is responsible for this abomination?" making everyone around me run for the exit. But since Miss Hitler was sleeping angelically on my lap as I read, I limited myself to snorting derisively. The object of my derision?
Boomers. God how I hate them. Yeah, I confess my unending, passionate hatred for an identifiable group. It’s those Boomers.
I don’t know if I am a tail-end Boomer or a Preemie Gen Xer. There is some scholarly debate about which year signifies the transition. Regardless. I hate Boomers. In today’s Globe the focus is on how incredibly sexy female Boomers are, and how all these 50-something women have 30-year-old hot stud lovers who "go all night". But don’t call these ladies "cougars" because that implies they are aging and that’s insulting. Got it?
In their usual balanced way the Style section included one article opposing the sexed-up Boomer argument (by the female writer we should all pity, I suppose) versus three pro sexy Boomers articles, so you know where the 50-something editors of the Globe stand on the 50-something sexy Boomer issue. Boomers want to redefine every "life stage" as they goes through it. Yawn. Guess what, they may fool themselves but they aren’t fooling the rest of us, those who came before them and those of us trailing along behind.
The problem is that by the time I’m 50, 50 won’t be sexy anymore. It’ll be all the hot 60-year-old babes that will be hoarding the Latino cabana boys and there’ll be nothing left for the Janey-come-lately’s like me. Life is so unfair.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Another Great returns to the Stage
LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Comedian Jerry Lewis is set to return this summer to the Orleans Hotel and Casino for his first live Las Vegas performance since his health took a turn for the worse six years ago, his publicist said on Friday.
Lewis, 80, is booked for a four-night comeback engagement from July 13 to 16 at the Orleans Showroom, where he was a regular fixture before various medical problems sidelined the veteran entertainer....
I don't even need to comment on this, do I. Heeeey laaaaadies.
Lewis, 80, is booked for a four-night comeback engagement from July 13 to 16 at the Orleans Showroom, where he was a regular fixture before various medical problems sidelined the veteran entertainer....
I don't even need to comment on this, do I. Heeeey laaaaadies.
Sigh
I guess I'm supposed to be happy that Ottawa won last night. But as Rafe the Faith Healer said (and here I paraphrase liberally) it is better to have no hope. Having hope is just cruel.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Quote of the Day
Now, I been in jail when all my mail showed
That a man can't give his address out to bad company
That a man can't give his address out to bad company
Keepin' them hurricanes honest
June 1, the official start of the hurricane season, will soon be upon us. You know what this means: Anderson Cooper hanging onto a lamp post.
Why oh why is Anderson so easy to mock and why do I derive such pleasure from mocking him? I like the guy, but there’s just something that makes me want to see him ducking errant tree limbs and flying telephone booths.
If a hurricane forms in late May, does it get scolded by god and told to go back and sit in a corner off the coast of Africa and wait its turn? Or does it have to go to the back of the grid or, worse, start from the pit lane?
Why oh why is Anderson so easy to mock and why do I derive such pleasure from mocking him? I like the guy, but there’s just something that makes me want to see him ducking errant tree limbs and flying telephone booths.
If a hurricane forms in late May, does it get scolded by god and told to go back and sit in a corner off the coast of Africa and wait its turn? Or does it have to go to the back of the grid or, worse, start from the pit lane?
Unpleasant thoughts
I don’t like what I’m hearing about how Daddy Bush and W are singing the praises of Brother Jeb and how he would make a grrreat prezdint. This can’t be happening, can it? I have a hard enough time believing that the American people will vote for another Republican in 2008, I just can’t fathom that they would be ready to vote for another Bush.
Maybe Daddy and Bar and James Baker and the Supreme Court are amending the Constitution as we speak to ensure that each member of the Bush family gets his rightful turn on the throne…
And is it my imagination or are there no Democrats of any interest at all? What a bunch of bland uninspiring weiner dogs. They need an outsider...
CLOONEY 2008!
Maybe Daddy and Bar and James Baker and the Supreme Court are amending the Constitution as we speak to ensure that each member of the Bush family gets his rightful turn on the throne…
And is it my imagination or are there no Democrats of any interest at all? What a bunch of bland uninspiring weiner dogs. They need an outsider...
CLOONEY 2008!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Quote of the Day
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
Buffalo wins; up 3 - 0
To quote Bill S:
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly
Big Fun with Monsieur Fournier
Background: Me and my across-the-street neighbour both want to get our driveways repaved. We discussed this last summer. While I was in Rafeville, she had a guy, Monsieur Fournier, do an estimate for her. While he was there, she kindly asked him to do an estimate for my drive as well. She gave me his card with the estimate on it and told me to call him if I was interested. He’s kind of gruff, she tells me. And so...
INT: My office. I dial (Ring ring)
MF: ouahg?
Me: Oui? Monsieur Martin Fournier?
MF: ouahg.
(I explain the background.)
Silence
(I elaborate.)
MF: ceqhwhenvoddres?
(Pause. I decipher this. Then I give him my address.)
MF: numwehnelfun?
(I give him my day phone number)
MF: enlammesson?
(I give my home number)
MF: quenesvossnefette?
It’s like Charlie Brown’s teacher, except fast, french and belligerent.
Pause
Me: Pardon?
MF: quenesvossnefette?
Pause. Time to wing it. I tell him the amount of his estimate.
This seems to be the right answer! Yay!
MF: mynahemfphna?
Pause. I have no clue. None. But I don’t let this stop the flow.
Me: Oui.
MF: lleoutrlavacecerr?
Me: Oui.
I’m assuming he’s just asked me if I am going to be home tonight. If not, then I wonder what I just said yes to?
So now I’m waiting. Maybe I’ve already accepted his estimate? If he shows up at 7 a.m. tomorrow with a ton of equipment, boy, will I be surprised!
INT: My office. I dial (Ring ring)
MF: ouahg?
Me: Oui? Monsieur Martin Fournier?
MF: ouahg.
(I explain the background.)
Silence
(I elaborate.)
MF: ceqhwhenvoddres?
(Pause. I decipher this. Then I give him my address.)
MF: numwehnelfun?
(I give him my day phone number)
MF: enlammesson?
(I give my home number)
MF: quenesvossnefette?
It’s like Charlie Brown’s teacher, except fast, french and belligerent.
Pause
Me: Pardon?
MF: quenesvossnefette?
Pause. Time to wing it. I tell him the amount of his estimate.
This seems to be the right answer! Yay!
MF: mynahemfphna?
Pause. I have no clue. None. But I don’t let this stop the flow.
Me: Oui.
MF: lleoutrlavacecerr?
Me: Oui.
I’m assuming he’s just asked me if I am going to be home tonight. If not, then I wonder what I just said yes to?
So now I’m waiting. Maybe I’ve already accepted his estimate? If he shows up at 7 a.m. tomorrow with a ton of equipment, boy, will I be surprised!
Interesting thing I just learned
My living room screens will not hold a 10-pound cat.
My living room windows have the screens on the inside and the crank 'em out windows on the outside.
Miss Hitler just flung herself against the screen and then hung on for dear life as the screen slowly fell forward, like Buster Keaton on a ladder at a second floor window. Feline slapstick.
I very helpfully yelled Nooooo while this was going on.
Miss H looked startled, with an expression that said "Such an indignity should not be happening to me."
My living room windows have the screens on the inside and the crank 'em out windows on the outside.
Miss Hitler just flung herself against the screen and then hung on for dear life as the screen slowly fell forward, like Buster Keaton on a ladder at a second floor window. Feline slapstick.
I very helpfully yelled Nooooo while this was going on.
Miss H looked startled, with an expression that said "Such an indignity should not be happening to me."
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Quote of the Day
Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole
Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole
Viva Yop
I love Yop.
Last week I was at the grocery store, doing my usual fretting about my poor nutrition and real or imagined calcium deficiency, when I took a good look at Yop. Drinkable yogurt. I’m not crazy about eatable yogurt. It bores me. But I know I need more calcium, so I bought a Yop.
Yop = Yum.
It’s delicious and easy to consume. Yogurt for the mandibly lazy.
Yop
It sounds like a slimy thing hitting your clean floor.
Yop
It’s the bark of an obese toy poodle.
Yop.
It’s an ethnic slur against a group I haven’t identified yet.
Yop.
Who decided this was an appealing name for a product?
Last week I was at the grocery store, doing my usual fretting about my poor nutrition and real or imagined calcium deficiency, when I took a good look at Yop. Drinkable yogurt. I’m not crazy about eatable yogurt. It bores me. But I know I need more calcium, so I bought a Yop.
Yop = Yum.
It’s delicious and easy to consume. Yogurt for the mandibly lazy.
Yop
It sounds like a slimy thing hitting your clean floor.
Yop
It’s the bark of an obese toy poodle.
Yop.
It’s an ethnic slur against a group I haven’t identified yet.
Yop.
Who decided this was an appealing name for a product?
Monday, May 08, 2006
Bob Quote of the Day (Frank Hardy-inspired edition)
You say you lost your faith
But that's not where it's at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it
But that's not where it's at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it
Buffalo wins; leads series 2 - zip
The writing, she is on the wall.
Why expect Ottawa to make it past Round Two? Shoot.
Why expect Ottawa to make it past Round Two? Shoot.
My Trip to Rafeville
Q: How is a room at the Portland Square Hotel like an Iraqi holding cell?
A: Both are tiny, tiny spaces where one can enjoy tasty Doritos in very cramped quarters.
Working back from Sunday a.m.….Cyclists must die. I don’t care about sight-seeing, fitness or family fun if it means I’m going to miss my flight because I can’t get to LaGuardia because streets and bridges everywhere are closed off for some stupid-ass bike tour. Arrived at the airport so late, I had to rush to my gate and didn’t even get a chance to pick up a couple of bags of Cool Ranch Doritos. Leaving the country without any physical evidence of what makes America great and tasty.
Meal: Big American breakfast. Rating: A-1.
Saturday night.
Why is the second Cosmopolitan so much stronger than the first? Hic.
Rafe on stage. He is a bad man, playing a bad man. This makes me happy.
He is also exquisitely lithe and handsome. This also delights me.
At the very end, we learn that Rafe's character will be beaten to death with farm implements and will be grateful for this release from his miserable life. There is something downright spooky about the final moments of his performance. I manage not to scream out "Don't go into the garden, Rafe". What self control.
When Ian McDiarmid appears on stage, we resist yelling "PALPATINE!", but just.
The play itself is grown-up, literate, difficult and very demanding of the audience. Travelling Companion (T.C.) sums it up: “This isn’t The Lion King”.
Meal: Turkish. Rating: Good.
Saturday afternoon.
At the MOMA, on the fifth floor. T.C., agog, says: “It’s like my art history textbook vomited this room”. That’s an image that will stay with me.
Earlier along 5th Avenue, T.C. has foot problems, thus gets renamed “Wolf Blister, cub reporter”. She didn’t find this nearly as amusing as I did.
Meal: No lunch. But a small bag of Cool Ranch Doritos mid-afternoon.
Saturday morning.
General wandering.
Meal: Late breakfast at Edison Hotel. Rating: Let’s ignore the food and just say the atmosphere was… interesting.
Friday evening.
Generally hanging out on Rafe Street (45th) until a later supper.
Meal: French. Good wine. Rating: A.
Friday afternoon.
Walked, walked, walked, until blisters appeared. The Bowery has a lot of lamp stores! Ooh wee. Chinatown, Little Italy, Chelsea, Soho, Greenwich Village. Short pilgrimage to Bob’s old house at 94 Macdougal Street. Picture me in front of this door. And to think some people waste their time at Lourdes.
Meal: Thai. Rating: A-1
Friday a.m.
CNN Tour. Larry King’s set looks like it is made of Lite Brite. How cheap looking. Did not see Lou Dobbs. Will learn to live with that disappointment. Coolest things on the tour: A set of Iraqi playing cards, with Saddam as the Ace o’Spades, also the M out of the Saddam Hussein International Airport sign.
Meal: Big American breakfast. Rating: A.
Thursday evening.
At hotel and then Times Square. T.C. adopts the phrase “wave of humanity” which will be used repeatedly.
Meal: Indian. Rating: Good, except for nan bread which earns an A.
A: Both are tiny, tiny spaces where one can enjoy tasty Doritos in very cramped quarters.
Working back from Sunday a.m.….Cyclists must die. I don’t care about sight-seeing, fitness or family fun if it means I’m going to miss my flight because I can’t get to LaGuardia because streets and bridges everywhere are closed off for some stupid-ass bike tour. Arrived at the airport so late, I had to rush to my gate and didn’t even get a chance to pick up a couple of bags of Cool Ranch Doritos. Leaving the country without any physical evidence of what makes America great and tasty.
Meal: Big American breakfast. Rating: A-1.
Saturday night.
Why is the second Cosmopolitan so much stronger than the first? Hic.
Rafe on stage. He is a bad man, playing a bad man. This makes me happy.
He is also exquisitely lithe and handsome. This also delights me.
At the very end, we learn that Rafe's character will be beaten to death with farm implements and will be grateful for this release from his miserable life. There is something downright spooky about the final moments of his performance. I manage not to scream out "Don't go into the garden, Rafe". What self control.
When Ian McDiarmid appears on stage, we resist yelling "PALPATINE!", but just.
The play itself is grown-up, literate, difficult and very demanding of the audience. Travelling Companion (T.C.) sums it up: “This isn’t The Lion King”.
Meal: Turkish. Rating: Good.
Saturday afternoon.
At the MOMA, on the fifth floor. T.C., agog, says: “It’s like my art history textbook vomited this room”. That’s an image that will stay with me.
Earlier along 5th Avenue, T.C. has foot problems, thus gets renamed “Wolf Blister, cub reporter”. She didn’t find this nearly as amusing as I did.
Meal: No lunch. But a small bag of Cool Ranch Doritos mid-afternoon.
Saturday morning.
General wandering.
Meal: Late breakfast at Edison Hotel. Rating: Let’s ignore the food and just say the atmosphere was… interesting.
Friday evening.
Generally hanging out on Rafe Street (45th) until a later supper.
Meal: French. Good wine. Rating: A.
Friday afternoon.
Walked, walked, walked, until blisters appeared. The Bowery has a lot of lamp stores! Ooh wee. Chinatown, Little Italy, Chelsea, Soho, Greenwich Village. Short pilgrimage to Bob’s old house at 94 Macdougal Street. Picture me in front of this door. And to think some people waste their time at Lourdes.
Meal: Thai. Rating: A-1
Friday a.m.
CNN Tour. Larry King’s set looks like it is made of Lite Brite. How cheap looking. Did not see Lou Dobbs. Will learn to live with that disappointment. Coolest things on the tour: A set of Iraqi playing cards, with Saddam as the Ace o’Spades, also the M out of the Saddam Hussein International Airport sign.
Meal: Big American breakfast. Rating: A.
Thursday evening.
At hotel and then Times Square. T.C. adopts the phrase “wave of humanity” which will be used repeatedly.
Meal: Indian. Rating: Good, except for nan bread which earns an A.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Earthquake in South Pacific
Tsunami warning for New Zealand and Fiji.
Attention, Attention, citizens of Fiji:
Please ensure that all palm trees have been cleared of old rock stars.
Attention, Attention, citizens of Fiji:
Please ensure that all palm trees have been cleared of old rock stars.
Afghanistan again
"During the day the people, the police and the army are with the government, but during the night, the people, the police and the army are all with the Taliban and Al Qaeda."
- HAJI SAIFULLAH, a shopkeeper in Tirin Kot, Afghanistan.
Gee, why was I being such a gloomy gus about A'stan when things are going so swimmingly.
Next stop, Sudan!!
- HAJI SAIFULLAH, a shopkeeper in Tirin Kot, Afghanistan.
Gee, why was I being such a gloomy gus about A'stan when things are going so swimmingly.
Next stop, Sudan!!
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Learned a new word today
Concatenation: Linking together in a series or chain.
Feel free to use it in a sentence.
Example: A concatenation of Rafe photos would be of little interest to anyone but me.
Feel free to use it in a sentence.
Example: A concatenation of Rafe photos would be of little interest to anyone but me.
A little Sedaris is good for us all
David Sedaris has a short piece in the New Yorker this week about my No. 1 obsession: mortality. You remember how, in days of old, writers used to keep a skull on their desks to remind them of their inevitable death? Sedaris goes one better, one way better. The guy is funny.
www.newyorker.com.
www.newyorker.com.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Our Pathetic, Stupid World
This is the kind of sentence I just LOVE to read: “Many donor countries appear to have tired of the long-term conflict in Darfur…” [Reuters]
Oh you starving African people, you are so last year, we are so tired of you and your no-food problems.
The World Food Programme received only 32% of its annual appeal for Darfur. Shame on us. All of us. Everybody’s talking big plans for solving the situation in Darfur, but rich countries cannot even keep their stinkin’ lousy promises of food aid. So how seriously can we take any empty talk of doing anything at all to resolve the big crisis there, when we don’t even care enough to feed these people.
The WFP tries to supply 2000 calories per day per person and now has to cut that amount to 1000. 1000 calories a day! That’s literally a starvation diet.
When you have 10 people and you give them 2000 calories each that’s one thing. When you have the same 10 people and you give them 1000 calories each, that isn’t enough. So the 5 strongest will take what they need from the 5 weakest, and the end product is 5 people with 2000 each, and 5 people with zero. Zero = death.
There is no political will to help these people. Why won’t somebody in power admit we are doing nothing. As it stands, our response to this crisis is: Let ‘em starve.
Oh you starving African people, you are so last year, we are so tired of you and your no-food problems.
The World Food Programme received only 32% of its annual appeal for Darfur. Shame on us. All of us. Everybody’s talking big plans for solving the situation in Darfur, but rich countries cannot even keep their stinkin’ lousy promises of food aid. So how seriously can we take any empty talk of doing anything at all to resolve the big crisis there, when we don’t even care enough to feed these people.
The WFP tries to supply 2000 calories per day per person and now has to cut that amount to 1000. 1000 calories a day! That’s literally a starvation diet.
When you have 10 people and you give them 2000 calories each that’s one thing. When you have the same 10 people and you give them 1000 calories each, that isn’t enough. So the 5 strongest will take what they need from the 5 weakest, and the end product is 5 people with 2000 each, and 5 people with zero. Zero = death.
There is no political will to help these people. Why won’t somebody in power admit we are doing nothing. As it stands, our response to this crisis is: Let ‘em starve.
Man of the Year: Stephen Colbert
Okay, I know it’s only May, but why wait?Nobody else is going to come close to Colbert.
Tonight’s word is Bravery.
His skewering of Bush on Saturday as the Chimperor sat only 10 feet away was something to behold. Not that we are going to see it on any network news program. Nobody is touching this story. Happily it’s all over the Internet, I watched it at: http://www.shakespearessister.blogspot.com/. It’s called For Your Viewing Pleasure. Scroll down.
It is breath-taking. I kept thinking “oh my, Bush is sitting RIGHT THERE!” I wish there were more close-ups of scowling W.
I cheerfully salute Colbert, the kind of man who makes America great.
Happy Anniversary
Yep, it was three years ago today that Brave Commander Codpiece, in all his manly glory, stood proudly on the deck on the USS Abraham Lincoln and declared that combat operations in Iraq were over. What a beautiful victory.
Time’s a funny old thing and how it flies. I can’t believe the war’s been over for three years. It seems like just yesterday I heard that two more American soldiers had been killed. Hmmm.
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