Friday, January 31, 2003
They say if you give 'em an inch, they'll take a mile.
Well, I took a foot once.
It had an abnormally long second toe. And I could cup its sweet, cherry redness in the palm of my hand. I licked my sticky fingers after picking the lint off: I had stuck it in my pocket when the nutman turned his back. That was the start of my grade ten crime spree. The second and last incident happened in another mall. I wandered endlessly in the department store looking for a clerk, but no one ever showed. Their loss, I figured, haw, and put the cosmetic brush into my bag. I hoofed it out of there a juvie, firm in the knowledge that supply and demand doesn't always require customer service.
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Don Mills, ON M4Y 2M9
January 29, 2003
I understand, by watching your ads, and employing some amount of restraint and tolerance, Michelina's Pastas must be shooting for something "new" and "fresh" with your campaign. Unfortunately, I'd have to add "ineffectual" or even "really fucking annoying" to that.
One of the ads I've seen use a guy and girl on some sort of date, and he's talking "Italian" to her and she's lapping it up. Now, normally that might work in a cute way. But instead of just having our hunk whisper mangia or capuccino in her ear, you insist on him reciting words to the cadence of the Macarena. Now that I think of it, maybe he's not talking Italian. I'm not really clear on the other features of the commercial because I usually turn it off. Same goes for your latest ad with the football players. I started watching it with the hopes this would be a new ad campaign for you. But no, they start doing something to the tune of the Macarena.
COULD YOU PLEASE STOP THAT NOW?
YOU STOP AND I WILL STOP BLOODY SCREAMING AND POKING MY EYES OUT WITH SHARP OBJECTS.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
I do enjoy your Spaghetti Bolognese.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
I am drinking a surprisingly refreshing glass of wine. I guess I'd say that because it is both thirst-quenching and novel. Folks, I am drinking homemade wine of a blueberry origin. I already downed the plum wine in the same Christmas basket of homemade jams, salsas and wines given to me by my sister and her husband. While surprisingly good, I can't help but ask, WHAT IN THE CHRIST DO YOU HAVE AGAINST THE GRAPE, SISTER?
OHMYGOD! I am listed as NUMBER TWO in a Google search for "Aragorn versus Legolas"! That's impossible. I mean, I even mistakenly referred to Helm's Deep as Well's Deep just the other day. (Insert nerd-snorting here.) And, I'll confess I saw the movie for the second time very recently. I am not worthy. The saddest part of this burden I bear is imagining all those folks who come here looking for insight and getting instead some chick's ramblings about lawyers and facial hair and travelling. And not even for consolation do I look anything like Arwen.
Sorry, dudes. Live long and prosper. (see. NOT WORTHY)
Monday, January 27, 2003
You got polio? Bring it on.
You got Hep-B? I don't mind. Mishandle my food, I don't care.
Sweet Jesus, I ahm immmuuuniiiized!
Sunday, January 26, 2003
I've been meaning to set up a photo gallery for-evah but I just haven't gotten around to it. I have use of a scanner once again, and I don't much feel like writing, so I'm posting some pics.
These are from the summer of 2002:
1) a city-organized rally to welcome home troops who served in Afghanistan;
2) a couple of shots from the Edmonton Folk Fest.
Yeah, peace and love, baby. Dig and all that.
Friday, January 24, 2003
The Different Faces of Justice
Now, I've seen the flamboyant District Attorneys, and I've seen the disheveled public defenders. I watch your TV programs, America. Here in my native Canada, it's the other way 'round. Cause see, you never catch the prosecutors (government-paid) acting real hot-shot. And the defense lawyers (except for the ones appointed as legal aid) are the ones pulling in the dough. And that's why I came to the conclusion I did today:
I was walking by the courthouse and caught some dude with a big, swaggering moustache making his way to the front doors, and I thought, man, that guy has to be defense counsel. The only crown prosecutors I know are clean-shaven or full-bearded.
And I thought, you know, that's a good-lookin' stache. I could really see him getting his client acquitted, then chowing down on a big plate of ribs.
(Billy, where do you stand on the facial hair issue?)
Thursday, January 23, 2003
The Quest and Quench of the Blood Oranges: A Photo Essay
The Sweet Pulp of the Red-Meated Citrus
Lip Color: Vampiric Thirst
Making Light of Serious Business
Falls into Hands of Bloodthirsty Cowboys N' Injuns
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
So everyone's favorite blogger, Sarah B., has hung a sign up on her site saying she needs a break. The throngs who visit are freaking, and now some scenarios are starting to surface about why she's taking a breather.
Comments run the gamut from "Be well, Sarah B," suggesting she's had a mental breakdown, to "Your mother found your site!" to movie offers, publication deals and CIA intrigue.
Or it could just be a re-tooling of the code.
I'd like to offer my very plausible explanation: she's getting her freak on. Hasn't anyone noticed her internet fiance is also on some sort of break. I mean, the guy hasn't published since January 16th and you can normally count on Royal to post a photo of his facial hair growth as it appears in the last hour or two.
Just how much cash did Jason make when he issued a plea to help him fly to Sarah?
Out-there? I don't think so.
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
For the Boomer in You.
I would just like to say this:
For those who believe all current pop music is cliched tripe, with its hit-me-babies and to-the-point it's-getting-hot-in-herre-now-take-off-all-your-clothes, let me offer you a snippet, a reminder, of the writing considered "genius" from THE SIXTIES, a time most of you consider unparalleled, "man:"I want you.
I want you.
I want you.
Yeah. I'm sure the rest of it is all poetry. Whatev. Talk to the hand.
Monday, January 20, 2003
The Fortuitous Weekend
Item 1: The Cute Road Companion and I hit Edmonton about 10 Friday night. We chatted with my folks, got ourselves a drink, and sat down to watch some big-screen cable TV when we came across the start of what looked like a movie. It was the start of a movie, at the unorthodox movie start-time of 10:50, and it wasn't just any ol' movie: it was Faster Pussycat...Kill! Kill!, which I'd seen before and had a hankerin' to again, and a movie which he hadn't seen, but was the number one movie on his priority list of movies to watch.
Item 2: Being a bit strapped for cash as we get closer to trip-departure time, I am selling my worldly goods. I had a heap o' CDs ready to bring in to my favorite indie store and was worrying about the sell strategy: Should I just bring in half of them? They're less likely, then, to discard a bunch. Will they have time to look at all these titles? Isn't Saturday the busiest time for this? But by a stroke of luck, I showed my wares to the cool girl I've sold to before. We have the same taste in music: "You've got some good stuff here." For my trouble? $135 smackers! Enough to buy me a passport! Which brings me to:
Item 3:I'd just been told Monday mornings were the busiest times to apply for a passport, with wait-times expected at three hours or more. Guess which day I'd arranged to go? Well, the night before my date with bureaucracy, Edmonton suffered its worst snowfall all year and the streets were crazy. I got to the passport office, took a number, looked at the estimated wait time: 13 minutes! And it turned out to be accurate. And---gasp--they chose to overlook the fact my guarantor had signed his John Hancock slightly outside of the box.
Item 4: The well-written and inventive movie is still valuable to some. Especially me. I'm going to climb out onto a very solid limb and declare this the best movie of the year. It's brilliant.
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
This cowgirl just found something that's a must-have for her holster.
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
The Tumbleweed Gal's Film Picks for 2002. Ahem.
I don't particularly care that it's freaking halfway through the month, I'm doing it anyway.
I've been a bit obsessed with it, of late. And now you can be too! Here is a list of all the movies released in 2002. I saw 25 of them. I think that's a bit low, but then again I often rent older stuff and that doesn't count. I've awarded most of them with a little something:
Movie Most Enriched by Presence of SCTV Alumna: My Big Fat Greek Wedding
Biggest Let-Down, To Date, in Woody Canon: Hollywood Ending
Best Lipstick Lesbians: Kissing Jessica Stein
Biggest Buildup and Subsequent Let-Down: Storytelling
Most Gratuitous Use of Marigolds: Monsoon Wedding
Coolest Unprovoked Violence: Punch Drunk Love
Only Thing Playing on First Date: The Mothman Prophesies
Most Legit to Warrant Running "News Items" about Panic Rooms: Panic Room
Best Debut by Coppolla Progeny: CQ
Coolest Action/Special Effects Flick (in order): 1.Spiderman 2. Two Towers 3. Attack of the Clones
Most Gratuitious Use of Catherine Keener: Lovely & Amazing
Best Kierkegaard Coles Notes: 13 Conversations About One Thing
Coldest Sex Scenes, Ever: The Piano Teacher
Best Display of Edie Falco's Biceps: Sunshine State
Least Finger-on-the-Pulse with Choice of Theme-Song Artist: Die Another Day
Most Welcome Use of Belle and Sebastian: Pumpkin
Best Glimpse into Malcolm McDowell's Madness: Gangster No. 1
Funniest Piss Jokes: Goldmember
Most Unwelcome Use of Julia Roberts: Full Frontal
Holy Shittingliest Cool Music: 24 Hour Party People
Most Effective Film to Indulge New-found Culkin Fetish: Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys...wait...Igby Goes Down
German, But Not Really German: Mostly Martha
Best Contest Between Purportedly Un-Gay Best Friends: The Bourne Identity, The Sum of all Fears
Best Use of Mullets, 'Staches, Bush Parties and Liquor: FUBAR
Best Movie of the Year But Not Actually Released 2002 (tied): Donnie Darko and The Royal Tenenbaums
Sunday, January 12, 2003
Neat little bits and pieces
I may have missed the boat on this one when it set sail, like, weeks ago, but I find the Fly Guy absolutely charming and fun.
Here is a cool photo site all about one of the places I'd most love to visit.
This thing fascinates and creeps me the hell out all at the same time. (via The Grand Ennui.)
And I've had this link forever, but I need to give it to you. It is sooooo adorable.
I'm keeping track of the films I watch this year, over there in the sidebar. Some of the links are not obvious ones. I think I'll update my blog links too.
Small-town syndrome, inertia, cold weather, and empty pockets drove us to it: we watched The Game last night.
Let me just say this: I don't have cable. And I can only tolerate hockey if I have unlimited access to alcohol or appys. While I had nothing at home to dull the pain, we did make nachos, so I could at least be distracted by gooey cheese.
I know it was the Edmonton Oilers and they were playing the Ottawa Senators, which I'm pleased to report still had uniforms. The Sens were up 1-zip when they went into the first intermission.
"Where is Coach's Corner?" asks me.
"It should be coming up," says he-who-is-very-manly-but-not-in-an-NHL-guyish-way.
[Sit patiently through blonde girl's interview, surprised by my lack of contempt. Now back from commercial.]
"Who is THIS guy?" exasperated now. "Where is Don Cherry?"
"He should be up any minute now," says my magazine-loving-man-in-a-Harper's-not-Sports-Illustrated-way.
[Goes to commercial. and back.]
Narrator: ...AND NOW BEHIND THE MASK!
"For the love of Christ, what are they paying Ron MacLean for?"
"Oh," says he, "Coach's Corner must come on during the first game only."
"WHAT FIRST GAME?"
"THEY SHOW TWO GAMES A NIGHT?!"
So as your intrepid correspondent, I'll relay these reports to you:
*I don't have the final score, but Ottawa played Edmonton. It was 1-0 after the first, but after that I don't know. It may have changed.
*THERE WAS A FIRST GAME THAT FEATURED DON CHERRY, but all I know was Toronto was in it, and, I think, the Bruins. If you want to know how that one turned out, go check it out for yourself.
*This guy arrived at CBC from a mold factory in Toronto.
*I remember when "hockey hair" really meant something. Now all the kids say "mullets." Hockey hair now means "really expensive cut, by professional stylists." Of course, the players take home pricey hair products and use them too liberally: just take freaking Kelly Hrudey. I mean, someone tell this guy to take it easy.
I hear the young, single gals who live in hot climes and don't worry about cash are doing one of two things Saturday nights.
The lines can be blurred, but I think there are two girls in life:
1. Sit on patio at chi-chi restaurant. Sip outlandishly-named martinis at outlandish prices. Adjust pretty tank top pouting about the heat, slam back the Don't Bring Her Home to Meet Your Mother, while aiming hair-toss at guy two tables down.
2. Don the hoodie. Call up brooding boy who's a ringer for Donnie Darko. Bootleg cheap hooch and hoof it down to the riverbank.
Friday, January 10, 2003
Let's just say...
you wouldn't want to be in the theatre seat next to me when this thing came on screen.
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
Always stuff to do, 24/7
Him, on waking: Did you get up at 3:30 in the morning and turn on the light?
Me, confused: I doubt it.
Him: I'm sure you did. And you said "Jesus...." and then it trailed off.
Me: Like I was cursing?
Me, looking at nightshirt: I wasn't wearing this when I went to bed.
Monday, January 06, 2003
Travel Woes. And I haven't even gotten off the ground.
* If your own hair color is substantially darker than the one you've currently adopted, and it's starting to be really uncool and slapping-on-the-back the lighter and more stylish colors, being boorish and generally being an ass, and it just doesn't get it that it's not wanted, but the stylish colors just love your head and continue to hang out, even though they're whispering behind their proverbial (but more accurately, follicular) hands about the natural color, word to the wise: Choose the black and white passport photos.
* While applying for a passport, if you can't seem to find anyone you know personally from a restricted list of "professionals" that will serve as your guarantor and essentially vouch for you being the person you say you are, you could deal with that one of two ways:1. You could say, "Man, I'm hanging out in the wrong social circles."
2. Alternately, you could think to yourself, "Thank god I don't have any lawyers for close friends."
* When my flight itinerary says I leave Edmonton the afternoon of May 3rd and arrive in Delhi the night of May 5th I could deal with that in a couple of ways, too:1. I will finally learn to play video games at my very own IN-SEAT PLAYER! Also, there are the hot towels.
2. I will surely die of a ruptured leg vein
Saturday, January 04, 2003
Stay ahead of the curve in 2003...
The must-have music list to top them all in 2002. You can run out and get them all now, but I knew about these guys ages ago.
Featuring Lorien's Under the Waves--"the loudest quiet album of the year."
Friday, January 03, 2003
One should really take a firm stance on such affairs
When you put a question mark at the end of what should be a declarative title for a show like Dateline, it's really hard to take the whole thing seriously.
For instance, when a narrator, not unlike that movie-trailer guy who intones "In a world where...", is obligated to subject his thundering, authoritative voice to an up note, things have gone seriously wrong in the production.
Tales of slain wives and probes into unsolved cases should not be prefaced with:
"We're back to A Dateline Special: Dangerous Lia-ISONS? "
Poor guy's trying to sort of raise the proverbial eyebrow to save face. Sorry, Pipes, you were misled.
Thursday, January 02, 2003
Making no apologies here.
take the which one of the trading spaces cast are you? quiz!
Wednesday, January 01, 2003
Guaranteed to live up to expectations
I made a coconut chicken curry, we went skating on an outdoor pond then watched the fireworks, we popped some champagne (thanks Colby), kissed and watched Octopussy. Wonderful.
What did you do?
2003 is promising, but some years are harder to live up to
At Some Party
Me: ...and then the shrooms really hit as we made our way into Shoreline. The Dead took the stage and some guy bungee-jumped at the same time the music started, and the ampitheatre exploded . I didn't know whether to look at the band or the crowd. This guy was wearing a generator, for god sakes. There were girls dressed like cats, carrying cigarette trays bearing chocolates and candies. People previously lying around on the grass suddenly burst into a frenzy of dancing at the outskirts, like black flies around the porch light.
Party Dude: When was this?
Me: Somewheres about '95.
tumbleweedgal: he says, "I like Alanis Morisette, and I have hers already, but I want something else like that." and I'm thinking this guy needs Meredith Brooks because that's what all the other Alanis groupies want, but I said "you'll want the CRAP section. It's just down thataway."
legolas217: and you got away with that all the time
tumbleweedgal: it was teh golden age of record store clerkery
legolas217: and when was this
tumbleweedgal: around 95 I think
Phone Dance with Boy-with-Potential, offering proof of past coolness...
Him: and whenabouts were you wearing that?
Me: probably around 1995....
Him: so have I got this straight....
Me: mm hmmmm
Him: you had given up the nosering, but now you were on to school-girl plaid skirts, and cardigans only buttoned at the neck?
Him: and on your feet?
Me: German parade shoes