Video Game Nerdiness

Tonight I blog because Ted and Tammy are engaged in a rousing game of "Crash Twinsanity" a PS2 game (sequel to Crash Bandicoot, parts 1 through 6 (or 7) by now). I'm not one who gets into the action-adventure games we have. That's more Ted's arena, whereas I'm more of a driver, shooter, blow-em-up kind of gamer. Ted plays all these elaborate games that take so much concentration, focus and skill, I feel like I'm in Grade 3 just watching him work his genius and his patience in his favour. He'd laugh at me saying that. hee But honestly I suck at anything too-too complicated. I like Grand Theft Auto, and Twisted Metal, and Destroy All Humans and Burnout 3/Revenge. Violent stuff no doubt, but I find it therapeutic at times to drive around blowing things up in a video game after getting stuck in traffic. Admittedly, I haven't been stuck in traffic in awhile. So I don't know what my excuse is for liking the brainless violence games. Hmmmph. Anyhow, the point I'm getting at is that I'm glad he's got a friend who likes playing the games he enjoys. (Many of our friends don't play video games of any kind.)

Anyhoo, after splaying my nerdiness onto the internet (hee) I'll quickly close (because we're going to watch a movie this evening.) I hope to write again tomorrow, but if not: Happy New Year!

"New Year's Day" by Carolyn Arends

I buy a lot of diaries
Fill them full of good intentions
Each and every New Year's Eve
I make myself a list
All the things I'm gonna change
Until January 2nd
So this time I'm making one promise

Chorus:
This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day
This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day

I believe it's possible
I believe in new beginnings
'Cause I believe in Christmas Day
And Easter morning too
And I'm convinced it's doable
'Cause I believe in second chances
Just the way that I believe in you

This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day
This could start a revolution
Every day is...
One more chance to start all over
One more chance to change and grow
One more chance to grab a hold of grace
And never let it go
Repeat chorus

Farty-Fart-Fart-Fart

I know I've mentioned briefly before that I have an odd fascination with fart and/or poop humour. Bodily functions in general tend to make me giggle with juvenile glee. But did you know that this simple immature fixation will win-over just about any child? I know this because I have 3 nieces and a nephew of my own, and 2 nieces and 2 nephews on Ted's side... and kids are generally stand-offish with me (which suits me just fine, 'cause to be truthful, I'm not terribly fond of children - especially babies - mind you fart humour has no effect whatsoever on babies, so maybe that's why I want nothing to do with them.) until you start talkin' "poopie" and "farts". Kids love that crap. Literally - HAR!
So why the flatulence talk? Well, it was kind of the b-side theme of Christmas weekend. First-off, there's Porthos: The most fartiest-farter-hound in the world. He wanders around passing gas (loudly I might add) on a good day, but on a bad day... oh... I dunno... let's say when people are stuffing him with doggie treats he's never had before or morsels of turkey when Ted and I aren't looking (I know it was goin' on.) he starts releasing the most noxious gas ever to escape a dog's posterior. I'm tellin' ya - baby-dog was clearin' rooms this weekend.
Then... there's Nathan, Ted's youngest nephew (4yrs old); who's been taught through various sources (myself included) that farts are funny, but... farts are "funnier" when shared. (much to his mother's chagrin) He made me laugh big time when he let an audible "ripper" go while Ted was holding him and then proceeded to insist that uncle Ted smell his butt. Ted refused of course, but this only angered Nathan. "I've cooked up a good one damn you, now you can bloody well enjoy the bouquet"! (ok, so that's Stewie Griffin, not Nathan. But you get the picture.)
Then last, but not least (and unintentionally I swear) there was my gassing of Crissy, Rachel and Sarah in the car before we drove home. I vow upon my father's grave that I honestly thought there was enough wind outside to carry the fumes far, far away before I got in the car. But sadly once I opened the door it acted as a scoop for foul odours. All at once Chrissy's wee Kia was overwhelmed and the 3 girls inside... ...trapped without mercy. Mwwahahaha wheeeeee....
Good times.
Hey, I swore it was unintentional. That's not to say I can't be giddy with an accidental dutch oven.

I'm such a child.

Let's pray this isn't my final blog entry for the year, shall we?

On a more "tasteful" note, last night Ted and I were sitting, watching TV with Cole between us and Porthos dead-to-the-world by himself on the love seat, when suddenly Porthos starts wagging his tail with great thumping enthusiasm... in his sleep. I love the thought of dogs having happy dreams. Squirrels that can't run away, a bottomless bowl of leftover cereal milk, and a bevy of foreign doggie butts to sniff without being told to stop... whatever it is... sweet dreams my happy puppies.

Given how this post has been largely a "fluff" piece if you'll pardon the pun, my song of the day will be a cheesy country song from my youth in the 80's (with a doggie theme) that had a video that made me cry. Now that I look at the lyrics I hesitate to follow-through, but hey - not all of the songs I mention are in the "rush out and buy it" category. Certainly not this one.

"Feed Jake" by Pirates of the Mississippi.

I'm standing at the crossroads in life...
And I don't know which way to go...
You know you've got my heart, babe...
But my music's got my soul...
Let me play it one more time...
I'll tell the truth and make it rhyme...
And hope they understand me...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

Now Broadway's like a sewer...
Bums and hookers everywhere...
Wino passed out on the sidewalk...
Doesn't anybody care?
Some say he's worthless, just let him be...
I for one would have to disagree...
And so would their mommas...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
And if I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

Now, if you get an ear pierced...
Some will call you gay...
But if you drive a pickup...
They say, no, you must be straight...
What we are and what we ain't...
What we can and what we can't... ***notably sung to rhyme with "ain't" hee
Doesn't really matter...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
And if I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

****This was a huge hit. WTF huh??

Of Hockey, Wrapping Paper and Piggery

Hidilly Ho Neighbours,

I'm back at frickin' work already. Such is the life of a radio slob unless of course the slob works for a really big radio station that closes down between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Anyhow, here I sit and I'd just about rather be anywhere. Namely at home in bed, recovering from a very busy weekend.

The plan was to have had time at some point over the weekend to sit down and write a nice, festive blog entry with all the holiday sentiment I could muster, but that obviously never happened like every other relaxing thing I wanted to do this weekend. No, no, I'm not bitter even though my words might suggest a tinge of disgruntled-ness. Santa was good to me and the whole nine yards. I just sometimes wish I could sit down with the tree lit and listen to some holiday music and just "be". Over the past 5-7 years Christmas has become such a circus that I find it just runs me down. And as a side-note, boy was I miffed to be running around on Christmas Eve (day) to look for wrapping paper that I asked Ted to pick up twice over the past week. Not even freaking Wal-Mart had wrapping paper!! We tried, Wal-Mart, 2 Zellers, Canadian Tire, The Bay, Costco, 2 Dominions, Hallmark, a (nondescript) dollar store, PharmaPlus and 2 Shoppers Drugmart's before finding any wrapping paper. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't wrapping paper one of those wonderful boxing day sale items you're supposed to be able to stock up on for next year's Christmas fiasco? I know I've picked some up post-Christmas before. Needless to say, a good portion of Ted's family almost had their gifts wrapped in tin foil and toilet paper, because of this unannounced paper embargo.

Additionally, of all places nobody would expect to find me on a Saturday night, would be the Air Canada Centre, watching a Leafs game, but there I was, and I had a great time too. Not that that could turn me into a bonafide hockey fan. I spent a great deal of time bitching (jokingly) that the biggest of reasons why the "Leafs" suck is because their name is grammatically incorrect. Everyone knows it "should" be the Toronto Maple "Leaves", which is a total wussy name, but regardless - that is what it should be. Or perhaps the "Toronto Maple Mooses" if they'd like to switch to some equally ridiculously incorrect Canadiana. Meh, whatever huh? They lost. Boo hoo.
After the hockey game we came home and I decorated the tree finally (it's been up and lighted for weeks, just not decorated) while Ted and Tammy baked up a storm. A very festive evening overall. I'll remember it fondly forever. And the weekend as a whole was rife with festive piggery which I both relish and regret simultaneously. It's a bad scene for waistlines.

Now tonight we host dinner for Ted's dad and his wife before our lives can return to normal. Ted's sister, her two daughters and dog, left today after a 4-day visit. What am I looking forward to the most once the holidays are over???? Sex my friends. Sex, glorious sex. It is one thing that Santa cannot bring when your home is so blatantly over-populated with guests. At this point, even Santa would look good to me.

I will refrain from wishing everyone a Happy New Year just yet, for the added incentive to write more blog entries before 2006 comes to a close.

Song of the day... one of my favourites this year: "Like it or Not" by Madonna.

You can call me a sinner
You can call me a saint
Celebrate me for who I am
Dislike me for what I ain't
Put me up on a pedestal
Or drag me down in the dirt
Sticks and stones will break my bones
But your words will never hurt

I'll be the garden
You be the snake
All of my fruit is yours to take
Better the devil that you know
Your love for me will grow
Because

This is who I am
You can
Like it or not
You can
Love me or leave me
Cus I'm never gonna stop
No no

Cleopatra had her way
Matahari too
Whether they were good or bad
Is strictly up to you
Life is a paradox
and it doesn't make much sense
Can't have the "femme" without the "fatale".
Please don't take offense

Don't let the fruit rot
under the vine
Fill up your cup
and let's drink the wine
Better the devil that you know
Your love for me will grow
Because

Cyber Christmas Karma Greetings

Just sending out a cosmic internet message to all the people I love whom I've neglected to send a Christmas card to this year. Rest assured that absolutely no one got a Christmas card from me this year, not that I suspect that there are many whose holiday cheer hinges upon whether or not they hear from me. But trust me, there's a long list of people who enter my thoughts at this time of year above all others, and I wish I could spend a little time with all of them. If you're reading this you're very likely one of those people.

So, Merry Christmas to everyone who knows me or has ever known me, may you rediscover even just a smidgen of the magical anticipation that made the holidays so special when you were young. It's hard to come by in this day and age when you secretly feel a little ashamed that there's a secret part of you that just wants it to be over. (or maybe that's just me - hopefully it is.)

Welcome to Our World - Michael W. Smith

Tears are falling,
hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised,
we've been waiting
Welcome Holy Child
Welcome Holy Child

Hope that you don't mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long awaited Holy Stranger
Make yourself at home
Please make yourself at home

Bring your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
World now breaking Heaven's silence
Welcome To Our World
Welcome To Our World

Fragile finger sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorn
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born
Unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around you
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God
Welcome To Our World

I Actually Wish It Would Snow

I shouldn't be writing in my blog right now, because I'm drowning in Boxing Day sales and all the hellishness that comes every radio copywriters way once December rears its ugly head. But... here I am blogging anyhow. Mainly because I simply cannot wait any longer to document that my wretched course is over, and for posterity's sake (my own anyhow) this is the recap of my marks:

Module 1: 84 %
Module 2: 88 %
Module 3: 93 %
Module 4: 92 %
Module 5: 92 %
Module 6: 77 %
Module 7: 88 %
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Course Average: 93 % (88 % + 5% bonus marks)
Final Exam: 83 %
Total Course Mark: 88 %

Pretty damned spiffy for something I initially would have rather skipped in favour of having flaming bamboo chutes soaked in vinegar, wedged under my toe-nails. Yeah, so it still means nothing other than having the letters "CRC" after my title. I'm just relieved to have it over-and-done-with.

In other (far more) exciting news: We're going to see "Wicked" tonight! eeeee... I think I just peed a little. (No, not really, but that's how excited I am.) This of course means we'll be watching the penultimate episode of Survivor tomorrow night with Rogers on Demand, so nobody tell me who goes home tonight!! Truly that's the hardest part about missing your favourite reality show isn't it?

This weekend we're also making an impromptu visit to Kingston (Sunday day trip only) so I can hand-deliver presents I haven't bought yet and furthermore have no actual money with which to purchase. Bury me with my credit cards folks. (Incidentally, the tickets for Wicked were free, just in case that brought about any curiousity.)

Anyhoo... in the spirit of the season... one of my favourite Christmas songs. (I know, I know, more Amy Grant. I'll try to abstain from listing any Amy songs for a good long while in the new year. ) "Christmas Can't Be Very Far Away".

Little bits of heaven
Floating gently by the window
Soon this dirty city will be
Covered with a new snow
Let's put on our winter boots
Go outside and play
Christmas can't be very far away

Weather girl says bundle up
It's gonna be a cold one
I'll put on my woolly hat
You'll wear your dad's old Stetson
Pretty lights are everywhere
Shining night and day
Christmas can't be very far away

Let's take a walk downtown
Go dream shopping in the mall
The kids can do the Santa thing
Photographs and all
We'll get the biggest tree this year
And trim it to the top
And spend a whole lot more than what we've got
But so what

Come next spring I know we will be
Ready for the sunshine
Right now throwin' snowballs
At each other's such a fun time
Kids will think we're crazy
For a while and that's okay
Christmas can't be very far away
Christmas can't be very far away

On the Way to Where I'm Going

I was going to make a post today about all the hurdles in my life that I feel I need to clear, but I think the thing weighing heaviest on my mind is my mother. And maybe if I ramble on a bit about her, I can find some clarity. Whether or not that's "Blog Worthy" I'm not certain, but seeing as how I have only about 3 or 4 faithful readers, it doesn't seem to matter as long as I trust those who are reading, with some of my deepest personal thoughts, which I do.

Anybody who knows me, knows that I do not have a good and healthy relationship with my mother. Even my father once referred to her as a "dogmatic zealot" and that's about as good a place to start describing her as any.

I love my mother. I really do. She has a good and generous heart and rarely ever, does someone meet her and not immediately think she's a sweet lady. She loves her children with a ferocious, and all-consuming concern for their spirituality and the ultimate destination of their souls in the afterlife. It's what goes on in "this" life that my mom isn't so good at handling.

My mother was born (in 1938) during the final phase of the great depression and raised in a family that for all my observation was completely emotionally crippled. My grandfather was an old school man, who worked the railway, deeply and hatefully prejudiced and was of the firm belief that you should never throw any belonging away, boys didn't cry, meat wasn't edible until it was burned to cinders, and you should never leave your house unattended because all the neighbours are thieves. My grandmother was always very sweet to me as a child, but to this day I'm not certain what her relationship was like with her own kids (my mother, aunts and uncle). My mom loved her very much and was with her when she died, but I know my mom also had issues with her that she never spoke about.
That's almost all the history I know about my mom's life aside from a few childhood stories, the most recounted of all being: how she found Jesus in a one-room school-house/church when she was 13 years old. And that was the love-story of her life.
I've always admired her faith and I still do to a degree (of course much more so when I was a child). My dad was not the love of her life, and although I think they did love one another in a co-dependent kind of way, there was more resentment and manipulation to my parents marriage than what I've come to know as a nurturing and respectful love. That's not to say I'm an expert on love, but growing up around behaviour I thought was perfectly normal as a kid, that turns out to be just plain sad when you see it beside the loving relationships that were the backbone of other families, helps you to see what you grew up lacking.

My mom and dad engaged in premarital sex (cue the shocked and appalled audience) when they were in their teens, my mom got pregnant, they were married (in 1954) at 18 and 16 years of age, and my mom miscarried the baby thereafter. So, as sad a summary as that is, it's more tragic to know that with the death of that unborn child the primary reason for their marriage was suddenly gone. It goes without saying that they stayed together of course. After two more miscarriages, my sister Cheryl was born in 1957, and my sister Darlene followed in 1960. (I didn't come along until 1973 when my mom was 35, my dad was 37, and my sisters were 16 and 13 respectively)

Every kid with an evenly remotely loving mother thinks the world of her, and I did. I thought my mom hung the moon for a great portion of my childhood. She was always there for me to take care of every cut and scrape, every school bake sale, every illness I ever had, every bedtime bible story, and every trip to church and Sunday School. In my mind, my mom was the best, and I still think of her fondly when I remember all those things. If there was ever a thing that my mom tried to instill in me it was spirituality and faith in the bible. It was all I knew and being an angelically good (there's not even a hint of sarcasm in that - I was a GOOD child), attentive and smart kid, I followed in her footsteps. And I don't think it was until after my dad's first heart attack that I ever wavered in my good behaviour (not that that event had anything to do with my behaviour - just a benchmark in my own time line). My dad's first heart-attack was in.... (God this post has involved a lot of math) 1981 and I was in Grade 3.

(interruptus grandiosus) I'm in the midst of doing housework and various other tasks today... so I'm going to have to continue this post at another time. Hmmph... and I didn't even get around to my horrible relationship with my mom... imagine that. Well, every story has to start somewhere, and it wouldn't be fair to not talk about her goodness as well, so this is "to be continued". Likely well-after this week is over and done with since there are a few personal deadlines coming up so I'm not likely to be doing much blogging for a bit. Just like me to start something I can't finish.

Song of the day goes with my melancholy mood. "So Unsexy" by Alanis Morissette.

Oh these little rejections
how they add up quickly
One small sideways look and I
feel so ungood
Somewhere along the way I think
I gave you the power to make
Me feel the way I thought only
my father could

Oh these little rejections
how they seem so real to me
One forgotten birthday I'm all but cooked
How these little abandonments
seem to sting so easily
I'm 13 again
am I 13 for good?

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind

Oh these little protections
how they fail to serve me
One forgotten phone call and I'm deflated
Oh these little defenses
how they fail to comfort me
Your hand pulling away and I'm
devastated

When will I stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserting baby?
When will I start staying with myself?

Oh these little projections
how they keep springing from me
I jump my ship as I take it personally
Oh these little rejections
how they disappear quickly
The moment I decide not to
abandon me

Wicked Survivor Freeek

Got tickets to go and see "Wicked" on December 14th. I cannot TELL you how excited I am about this. I've always really enjoyed the Wizard of Oz. Just watched it not too long ago actually when the special "restored" version came out on DVD. But Wicked for those who don't know, is the tale of the witches of Oz. Supposedly a wonderful musical production. Very much so looking forward to it. THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH Tammy! Gee it's been a long time since I've looked forward to something, and the best news is, I've only got to wait another 13 days to see it. YAY!

Ok, I don't normally dish Survivor on my blog, but last night's episode was FUBAR, and I loved it. I've never seen such open bickering and hate-filled conflict in all the years I've watched Survivor. At the centre of it all: Jonathan. hee. I'll admit he's a bastard, but he's a smart and insightful bastard who's simply playing a game (and playing it well - for now). Ted can't STAND Jonathan because he talks so much, but I just can't bring myself to hate him. He's always got a good point about whatever pie he has his thumb in. By the same token, I think he stands ZERO chance of winning unless somebody else up and kills a baby bunny on camera in front of the jury at tribal council and even then, Jonathan's pretty much hated enough by everybody to still walk away with no million dollars.

I'd almost be willing to bet money that Ozzie's gonna take this one home. He's a little bit under-the-radar in terms of screen time, but you can see he's always thinking and he's a formidable competitor. (part dolphin, part monkey, part shampoo commercial model).

And then there's Yul, whom I'd love to see win, because he's so together. He's intelligent, intuitive, sensitive and beautiful. (love that body baby) But even Yul is showing some weakness as demonstrated last night. He's got himself in a horrible predicament playing Keeper of the Immunity Idol, and he's not winning any loyalty points from the 3... make that 2 remaining Caucasian hotties, but in the end when they've had time to cool off, which all the jury members do, I'm sure they'd still give him the million anyhow. But I detected the slightest amount of ...was it "cockiness" in Yul, last night, talking as though he's already won. That's got to be a mistake - even when you do have the idol.

Additionally, on the topic of the idol; it's going to be interesting to see how it plays out this season seeing as how this is the third time it's been a factor in the game and only the first time everyone knows who has it. I was hoping it would come into play last week when they sent poor, stupid, sexy Nate home, and I question the wisdom of just announcing it to everyone when it's in your possession, but it certainly brings about some priceless facial expressions.

I'm hoping, hoping, hoping that Parvarti gets sent home next. I can't stand her and her bratty self-righteousness. It's one way in which I agree with Jonathan wholeheartedly - a million dollars would screw up her life. She's very immature.

I'm also hoping, hoping, hoping that Adam sticks around for a while even though I think he's a complete idiot. Eye candy extraordinaire is important for Survivor (to both Ted and I anyhow) and Adam.... might be the most delicious piece of said eye candy to hit a Survivor beach since Colby Donaldson. Yes, Adam is a slime-bag who would shag any pretty little thing with breasts, but God... if y'got it, might as well manipulate with it. (and by "it" I mean perfect pecs, abs, face, smile and... well pretty much everything, including that sexy tattoo on his back. The boy is hot.)

Yes, Survivor Cook Islands is a fun, fun season folks.

Song of the day, inspired by how delicious Adam is: "Freeek" by George Michael.

You got yourself some action
Said you got yourself a body
You got yourself an ass with
Mind of it's own bring something to the party

You got yourself addicted
You shoot up, it saves you time
You got yourself a paycheck
Faces in the places where the sun don't shine

I'll be your sexual freeek (freeek)
Of the week
I'll be your inspirational brother (sister)
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freeek
Of the week (Ohh touch it)
I'll be your educational lover
Your one-fuck fantasy

Can I come on in, my sweet baby
Can I move on in
Can I come on in, my sweet baby,
Can I move on in

You got yourself some action
Said you got your sexy Java
You got your speed connection
Free chat, fuck that, get a little harder

You got yourself a big bed
You shoot off, take your time
In the house with a bitch and a mouse
And your daddy's plastic how fantastic yeah

I'll be your sexual freeek (Back up on this)
Of the week (Yeah . . . I think I need a re-booty)
I'll be your inspirational brother (Sister)
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freeek (B,B,Back)
Of the week (Back back, sexy mama)
I'll be your educational lover(Yeah)
Your one-fuck fantasy

Sexual freeek (Sister)
I think I need a re-booty
Sexual freeek (Sister)
I'll be your sexual freeek,
of the week
I'll be your inspirational brother,
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freeek,
of the week
I'll be your educational lover,
your one-fuck fantasy (Sister)

You got yourself some action
Said you got yourself a body
You got yourself an ass with mind of its own
bring something to the party

Come on kids,
don't be scared
It's a tits and ass world you gotta be prepared
Come on kids,
don't be scared
It's a tits and ass world you gotta be prepared
Come on kids,
you know your mama and your daddy don't care
Don't be scared,
it's a tits and ass world you gotta be prepared

Things That Piss Me Off

THIS makes me sick.

A 45-million dollar luxury aircraft!!??

My mom absolutely LOVES Benny Hinn. Sends him money all the time. Her TV, probably has an image of him and his transvestite-looking wife Suzanne ingrained in the screen when it gets turned-off. I don't even want to go off on a tangent of how televangelism burns my ass, so I won't. But God knows this guy will get his luxury air plane and nary one of his loyal followers will even bat an eyelash as long as it's in the name of "harvesting souls".

It's not my place to judge him, but I'd love to know why commercial and chartered flights aren't good enough for the "harvest".

Oh, and for those who didn't read the whole page I linked to, for your donation of a mere minimum of 1000 dollars, good ol' Benny will send you a model replica of his plane so you can lay hands on it at any time and pray for him to find a modern hair-style. I wonder if they'd send me a complimentary prayer shawl for linking to his site??

"Head Like a Hole" Nine Inch Nails

god money i'll do anything for you.
god money just tell me what you want me to.
god money nail me up against the wall.
god money don't want everything he wants it all.

[Bridge:]
no you can't take it
no you can't take it
no you can't take that away from me
no you can't take it
no you can't take it
no you can't take that away from me

head like a hole.
black as your soul.
i'd rather die
than give you control.
head like a hole.
black as your soul.
i'd rather die
than give you control.

[Chorus:]
bow down before the one you serve.
you're going to get what you deserve.
bow down before the one you serve.
you're going to get what you deserve.

god money's not looking for the cure.
god money's not concerned with the sick amongst the pure.
god money let's go dancing on the backs of the bruised.
god money's not one to choose

[Bridge][Chorus][Chorus][Bridge][Chorus]
you know who you are.

Smells Like Brandon Routh

Yeah, so Cole bit Porthos last night in an effort to commandeer a Kong stuffed full of treats. Either that or Porthos asked for a snout piercing and Cole had no access to local anesthesia. The result was the same however: a big, bleeding, tooth-sized hole just above Porthos' nose, and quite a bit of swelling. My poor puppy.

Doggie politics are quite the mystery to me in spite of owning dogs my whole life. It's a precarious balance trying to instill acceptable behaviour. Cole must be taught he is an elder, but also an "equal" one-of-two, and Porthos must somehow get it that Cole is top-dog until such time as they're no longer vying for supremacy. Sometimes I wish they could talk. But then I soon thereafter surmise that that wouldn't be a good thing at all. I'd be getting "sassed" all the time donchaknow.

In other news, the final module of my $#%&@# course is upon me, and it's all about success stories, of which I have none that I can recall. How sad is that huh? Ahh well, I've just got to use plan B. Or rather: plan "BS". Want me to be a certified Creative Writer huh? Well, I'm a gonna get REAL creative on this assignment. Fictional even. Truly, I just want it to be over. I did really poorly on module 6 (by my standards) 77% and I blame it on fatigue and lack of motivation. I did not want to take this course, therefore I do not care as much as I probably should.

It has however resulted in a lot of brainstorming with a friend, whom I'm actually considering for a business partner in a freelance venture. We're both talented, there's no reason why we couldn't be making a shit-load of money from writing and voice-work. The fact that we both write and voice well, bodes well. The fact that neither of us knows a damned thing about starting a business does not. Ah but at least I'm aspiring to something. More than I could say a few months ago.


Ted and Tammy are doing a 2-week "Lean Out" diet thing. No carbs; no processed sugars for 14 days. I opted out of the plan, for any number of reasons: I can't seem to plan my lunches very well. I don't have the will-power to get on any sort of exercise regime right now (which it requires or else what's the point?). And Porthos P. Puppy makes me crave comfort foods when the only alternative is pulling out my hair when he's a bad dog, which is most of the time. Incidentally, Tammy has taken to calling him "Pee-thos" which I'd likely find incredibly funny if it didn't make me want to give him up for adoption. (which we'd never do in a million years)

To further the topic of the 2-week "Lean Out"... The subsequent void left in Ted's life by the nectar of the Gods he must abstain from, (Dr Pepper) has left him quite irritable. Be it the lack of caffeine, be it the absence of sugar - my Teddy was in a BAAAAAAD mood last night. I suspect, that's the reason why I was chastised for buying the wrong version of Superman Returns on DVD yesterday. I bought the movie-only version which I honestly, HONESTLY thought would include at least SOME special features, namely the 11 deleted scenes included on the 2-disc special edition. Alas, I should have spent the extra 10-dollars. Stupid, greedy studios.


Loved "Superman Returns" though. It was truly an escapist film. Lots of action, larger than life characters and what I thought was a pretty compelling plot, if not entirely original. The movie's caught a lot of flack for making Superman into a messiah figure (which he would be if he really did exist if you think about it) and the implausibility of Lex Luthor's evil plan (c'mon he's a super villain; if he's not preposterous what's the point??). But really folks... it's a comic book movie. If you can't just sit back, suspend disbelief and enjoy the romance and heroism and things going "boom", then what are you there for???

Anyhow... loved it. Totally recommend it. And additionally, let it go on record that I bet Brandon Routh smells really good. He just has that look about him. Unconventionally handsome... (but beautiful) what I'd call "adorkable". He looks like he smells very clean, like fresh laundry, and an unimposing cologne. Love him. hee



Song of the day is for my Ted. One of his current favourites. "All I Can Do" by Chantal Kreviazuk.



When you're on your own
When you're at a fork in the road
You don't know which way to go
There's too many signs and arrows.


You haven't laughed in a while
When you can't even fake a smile
When you feel ashamed
The uniform don't make you brave


All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you
All I can do
All I can do
All I can do


When you forget your name
and the pleasure can't disguise your pain
and you don't feel the same
I won't forget the love you made


All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you
All I can do
All I can do
All I can do


What a lovely day to shape your dreams
And you don't even have to sleep
You can make it what you want to be
You can fly away
You can change your name
You can have a happy face
It can be so real ohhhhhh


All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you
All I can do
All I can do
All I can do
Is all that I can do

Run Tommy Run (far, far away)

Watched Mission Impossible III last night, and I can say with all honesty that it's just as good as the first 2, and that's not saying much. The word "Gratuitous" comes to mind. It wasn't a movie so much as a 2+ hour commercial to make aging Tommy couch-bouncer look good. And in all fairness he does look good. Not just for his age; Tom Cruise still looks good. But there is such a cheese factor to every action movie he does.

For one, I am sick-to-death, tired of seeing him run. And it would seem that Tom specifically asks for at least one scene in every movie to showcase just how fast his little dachshund-man-legs can carry him.

The plot was dull, dull, dull. The dialogue was OK considering said dullness. I found I was a little confused by the opening scene and how exactly it worked itself into the pique of drama later on, but that may have been because I didn't feel compelled to give the movie my full attention. The effects, although very shiny-explosive were just a little too choreographed, even for a movie that's completely about suspending disbelief. Not to mention I still don't think I know whether Lawrence Fishburne's character was a villain or just merely corrupt, nor do I really care.

I did however love the scenery - particularly the windmill fields (as great a location for a cinematic helicopter chase/battle as any I suppose... although it made me feel absolutely ill to see 2 windmills destroyed - hopefully they were CGI.) and the streets of Tokyo. If nothing else, Mi III "looked" great.

Oh oh oh.... and I can't forget Keri Russell (from Felicity). She did a remarkable job. Loved her part albeit brief.

Overall, it was one of those movies that pleased me most when the credits rolled. Deleted scenes? A whole whack of 'em. Ted was like: "Wanna watch the deleted scenes?" John was like: "I don't really care what they left out". I could think of a few additional scenes of my own to delete. (ie: "run dachshund run", and a post-sex torso pan of Tom Cruise from bottom to top in bed - hee - bed pan) So needless to say, Ted will be watching those on his own.

The thing that worries me most about this movie... ***Nerd Alert*** is that it's directed by JJ Abrams, who is working on the 11th Star Trek film. I hope to God that the overall story and flow of Mission Impossible III is not any indication of how the new Trek movie's going to play out, or I'm afraid there won't be any more Star Trek in my lifetime. Not that that would be the end of the world, but it would make me very sad.

Song of the day: a quirky lil' diddy by Scissor Sisters. Once again, from the album "Ta Dah". One of the best CD's of the year in John's world.

"I Can't Decide"

It's not easy having yourself a good time
Greasing up those bets and betters
Watching out they don't four-letter
Fuck and kiss you both at the same time
Smells-like something I've forgotten
Curled up died and now it's rotten

I'm not a gangster tonight
Don't want to be a bad guy
I'm just a loner baby
And now you're gotten in my way

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

It's a bitch convincing people to like you
If I stop now call me a quitter
If lies were cats you'd be a litter
Pleasing everyone isn't like you
Dancing jigs until I'm crippled
Slug ten drinks I won't get pickled

I've got to hand it to you
You've played by all the same rules
It takes the truth to fool me
And now you've made me angry

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Oh I could throw you in the lake
Or feed you poisoned birthday cake
I wont deny I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
Oh I could bury you alive
But you might crawl out with a knife
And kill me when I'm sleeping

That's why I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Monkeys are Funny

Cold deep-fried turkey on grilled-red-pepper stoned-wheat crackers is a new favourite snack. I cannot tell you how delicious it is. Good thing too, 'cause it's what I'm eating for lunch.



In completely unrelated news; early this morning I was amused to discover that I have not one, but two friends who don't like monkeys. This gives me pause. But only because I thought that monkeys were just universally admired as they resemble little furry people; only animal-like. (granted, they're little furry people who screech, copulate in public and have been known to toss feces - but to me that still sounds a little bit fun. I jest - but not entirely. Remind me to tell you about the "PTV" episode of Family Guy in which Peter and Cleveland do a segment called "Would You Crap Off That?". I happen to find poop jokes insanely funny, more so than a well-adjusted person should really.)
In retrospect, perhaps it was naive of me to think that everyone likes monkeys, because simply put, not everyone enjoys everything. Not-to-mention the fact that phobias and general disdain for things/creatures (nouns in general) can spring out of nowhere for seemingly no reason. But one friend in particular HATES monkeys, like beyond capitol-letter emphasis! She cannot handle even "looking" at a primate of any kind. They make her cringe and shudder in disgust. Even the cute little spider monkeys in the Telus commercials. Incidentally, I posted that picture knowing full-well that the aforementioned friend does not read my blog, and the second friend: Keltie (whom I'm mentioning for the second day in a row) has specified that she can tolerate spider monkeys more so than other species, but to be clear, that doesn't mean she likes them. ***post-script*** It would seem the picture doesn't show unless you click on it. A web-genius I am not.

Now I'm not campaigning for monkeys by any means. Yes, admittedly I've always found them cute and entertaining (except for the movie "Outbreak" in which they were quite the terrifying plot device) but I've never been a monkey "fan" persay. However, the question of their appeal or repugnance as the case may be, is a good one.

Why do monkeys have such a widely adored status? Maybe it's because they vaguely remind us of ourselves, and how we'd behave if we weren't self-aware and civilized. That could be used as an argument in favour of or against the little critters though. From an evolutionary stand-point, we may very well have behaved like monkeys until the advent of laser hair removal. Who knows?
I think I like animals (not just monkeys) better than I like most people, so the appeal of monkeys for me is just the cute little fingers-n'-toes, their agility, curiousity and mischief-loving nature. Not that I've ever known a monkey personally - they could be little assholes, so far be it from me to condemn anyone for not liking them.

Song of the day is a thematic thing... a song I've never really understood, but I've liked it since childhood. What were you talking about Peter Gabriel? And is your desire to electrocute monkeys a direct result of a feces-flinging incident? If so, I "sooo" want to know. I would laff and laff and laff.


Shock the monkey to life
Shock the monkey to life

Cover me when I run
Cover me through the fire
Something knocked me out' the trees
Now I'm on my knees
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Don't you know when you're going to shock the monkey

Fox the fox
Rat the rat
You can ape the ape
I know about that
There is one thing you must be sure of
I can't take any more
Darling, don't you monkey with the monkey
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Don't you know you're going to shock the monkey

Wheels keep turning
Something's burning
Don't like it but I guess I'm learning

Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey

Cover me, when I sleep
Cover me, when I breathe
You throw your pearls before the swine
Make the monkey blind
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Don't you know you're going to shock the monkey

Too much at stake
Ground beneath me shake
And the news is breaking

Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey

Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey to life

I've Never Blown a Ho

Last post made on November 6th.... yikes... good thing I didn't sign up for NoBloHosNoMo, that daily blogging contest that my friend Keltie is doing.
I think it's sponsored by the new Snoop Dog album. I'd quite obviously fail miserably at blogging every day, but I am enjoying the fact that every day I visit her blog, there's something new to read. She hasn't missed a day yet.
Phew - I dunno what kind of prizes one could win, but it certainly seems like a big commitment to me. And as a sidebar, it's actually called the NaBloPoMo - I think... assuming that's short for National Blog Posting Month or something of the like.

So what's goin' on in my life? Well, I'm 3 weeks away from finishing my #$%!ing course and can't wait to be rid of it. Ted is in the midst of work and waiting to find out when his full-blown training begins for his Brand Trainer course. He's got a binder as thick as my neck full of curriculum to go through, so I'm starting to think I've had it easy. Perhaps it's easy for me to say that in hindsight now that I can see the top of the mountain.

Porthos is doing much better in the house-training department. We've just come to the realization he stopped trying to make it outside because there was no incentive. Now that he's being coerced with Milk bones (or "bickies" as we refer to them) he's much more inclined to try to please us. Every dog has his currency, that's for sure.

It's heart-warming to see the relationship that's forming between both of our dogs, since Cole has never really had a buddy in his life. Bailey ("RatDog", our now deceased LlasaPoo) was at best a mother-figure, and at worst a crusty bitch who didn't particularly enjoy his company or affection, and had no tolerance whatsoever for any form of tom-foolery that ordinary dogs engage in to burn off playful puppy energy. So it's nice to see Cole enjoying all the play that Porthos can dish out. Well, almost all of it. Their love for one another just seems to grow deeper every day though, and I just eat that up with glee.

In recent ventures, Ted bought a Turkey Deep Frying Kit on the weekend, and guess what we made Sunday night? Imagine cooking a 10lb bird in 35 minutes. And that was actually over-cooking it judging by the results, but I wanted to make sure it was given just a little bit of extra time since I was dubious at the thought of us actually doing it right in our first attempt. I suppose the verdict is still out on whether we succeeded or not since the balcony is still currently a no dog-zone and we've yet to clean up the turkey oil spill we made. The bird tasted good though. I honestly think we could eat turkey all the time. That's our second bird in a month. And we'll undoubtedly be making another one at Christmas.

Anyhoo, I should get back to the tedium that is my day's work.

Song of the day is by Seal. If you haven't seen this video, I recommend you Google it and watch. It's beautiful. As is the song itself. "Love's Divine"

Then the rainstorm came, over me
And I felt my spirit break
I had lost all of my, belief you see
And realized my mistake
But time through a prayer, to me
And all around me became still

I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Through the rainstorm came sanctuary
And I felt my spirit fly
I had found all of my reality
I realize what it takes

'Cause I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don't bend (don't bend), don't break (don't break)
Show me how to live and promise me you won't forsake
'Cause love can help me know my name

Well I tried to say there's nothing wrong
But inside I felt me lying all along
But the message here was plain to see
Believe me

'Cause I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don't bend (don't bend), don't break (don't break)
Show me how to live and promise me you won't forsake
'Cause love can help me know my name

Love can help me know my name.

Something Happy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjCpT8NbmME

Additionally, I forgot to post a link to one of the cutest things I've seen/heard in a long time. What a happy baby.

"Enjoy" by Janet Jackson from the album "20 Y.O." (one of few, if-not the only really great song on the entire CD)

Wake up 7 am
'Bout time we do it again
Sushine today
I better make plans
'Cause it rained yesterday
But that was ok
Can't complain
I love it either way

Living everyday like it's my last
I refuse to be stuck in the past
People actin like machines
'Cause they're scared to live their dreams
No not me

I just enjoy and celebrate
Enjoy the love we make
Enjoy, appreciate
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til my heart's content
And enjoy when someone smiles
Enjoy
So just enjoy the simple things
Enjoy the day life brings
Enjoy the song love sings
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til your hearts content
And enjoy the gift of life
Enjoy

If you wanna find the paradise
Do it now never too late to try
Lose your inhibitions
Let your inspiration set you free

And just enjoy and celebrate
Enjoy the love we make
Enjoy, appreciate
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til my hearts content
And enjoy when someone smiles
Enjoy

So let's enjoy the simple things
Enjoy the day life brings
Enjoy the song love sings
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til your hearts content
And enjoy the gift of life
Enjoy
And the people say

Enjoy la la la la la [Repeat]

I just enjoy and celebrate
Enjoy the love we make
Enjoy, appreciate
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til my hearts content
And enjoy when someone smiles
Enjoy
So just enjoy the simple things
Enjoy the day life brings
Enjoy the song love sings
Enjoy
Just keep on doing it
'Til your hearts content
And enjoy the gift of life
Enjoy
Enjoy la la la la la [Repeat]

Maybe Next Time it Will Be Stolen by Aliens

The time is 7am, and John wakes from sleep to the sound of rustling from another room. (No, no, all our livestock is still accounted for. It's "paper" rustling that I speak of.)

When you're daddy to an eight-month old puppy, rustling is not a noise you can sleep through. So I stumble out of bed, stricken into consciousness via raw hide bone pressed firmly into the curvature of my foot. The rustling sound can still be heard and draws me to the bathroom where I'm picturing the contents of a garbage can strewn about everywhere, perhaps even a magazine laid waste in a display of canine boredom in front of the toilet.... but oh no...

The dog ate my homework.

I swear to all that is good and just in the universe that I can finally say with all honesty that one of the most preposterous excuses ever known to man or offered to the most disbelieving of teachers has finally come to pass for me. The dog... ...Ate my homework.
And lo and behold, there's a bone in my brief case to answer the question of "what possessed him"? So... Basset Hound drops bone in bag, goes looking for bone, comes out with homework drags it to the bathroom for some good reading (???) material, and one plus one is two.

It's laughable, only because I still had all of the work on my computer so there's really no harm done, but what are the chances?? Hell, I'll gladly feed him the entire course page by page when I've finished it and banished the tedium from my life.

So Porthos got away with a mild scolding for making a mess, and moved-on to other things... like tossing soil out of the potted tree in our living room yet again. He's so lucky he's cute, 'cause lesser dog owners would have sold him to a third world country for his meat by now. And, yeah, they eat stuff like that. Why only last night I learned that they eat cow lips (fur n' all) in Madagascar. Thank you very much Amazing Race.

Beware My Whining

Blood... it's in you to give.

I'm getting damned tired of hearing this. And not because I'm a cold-hearted bastard. I believe in giving blood and would whole-heartedly encourage people to do so. I only wish that I was allowed to do so myself. I promise this will be a short Soap Box Perch for me and here's hoping that I might even move on to something entertaining before I'm finished posting for the day. But "Did You Know...." that the Canadian Red Cross will not accept blood donations from homosexual men? It matters not, that you're tested regularly for HIV/AIDS (which I'm not, but it wouldn't matter anyhow). It matters not, that you've been in a monogamous sexual relationship for 11 years. It matters not, because of one ugly little question on their behemoth questionnaire that asks if you're a man who has had sex with another man since 1978 (or 76, can't remember the year exactly). If you answer "yes"... Thank you for playing; we have no lovely parting gifts for you. And THEN to add insult to injury, they continue to call you to keep you abreast of each and every blood donor clinic day in your vicinity. Nice huh?

Prejudice is an ugly thing. It really is. Whether under a banner of religion, or fear, or policy, or any other ridiculous form of hate. It's still discriminatory. I have good, clean, blood. And a healthy, (if soft and pudgy) body. But my blood is unwelcome. Perhaps Canadian Blood Services should alter their campaign sell-line to say: "Blood; it's in you to give. ...Unless of course you're a filthy, promiscuous homosexual." They'd probably have church groups lined-up around the block, rolling up their collective sleeves and ready to open up a vein at will if they did. It'd be far more honest than the slap in the face of actually going to a clinic and being turned away. -sigh-

Ah well... as far as I know there are no such discriminating policies associated with being an organ donor, which I am. I'm tempted to start auctioning off parts before then, because God knows I don't feel like a prime specimen, but here's hoping someone gets some good use out of my spleen or kidneys or something else I haven't abused or neglected too much by the time I kick it. If only I could sell abdominal fat by the pound. Or snot for that matter. (sorry, it's at the top of my mind just rising from the misery of a cold) I've got more of that than anyone would ever need or want. There has to be some mass-quantity use for it... like... I dunno... envelope glue (bet that'll make you think twice before you lick your next one).

Anyhow... give blood if you're heterosexual, or a lesbian (no discrimination there thankfully) and sign your donor card if your anything but. No entertainment today it would seem, unless mucous qualifies.

"I Could've Been You" by Melissa Etheridge

Take, take a look at the sky
Sometimes your heaven seems so far away
Take, take a look under here
Where deprivation turns into decay
I've stood under this rain
Felt it seep into my brain
I've shut my eyes and crawled around this mud
I'm scared of growin' old
I shiver when I'm cold
Don't you think I bleed the same blood

I, I could've been you
You could've been me
One small change
that shapes your destiny
If you want the proof
Cut me and you'll see
I could've been you
You could've been me

Wait, wait before you turn off
Maybe there's a chance we can relate
Wait everybody turns on
Why deny a fact that's so innate
It's not so easy anymore
The way you used to keep score
Not so black and white the color of your sin
Take a walk inside my shoes
A path I didn't choose
Spend the night inside of my skin

I, I could've been you
You could've been me
One small change
that shapes your destiny
If you want the proof
Cut me and you'll see
I could've been you
You could've been me

Change is turning into fear
Fear is melting into hate
With hate you justify your crime
A crime compassion can erase
Erase erase

Touch, touch what I feel
And know I believe everything I say
So go, go if you must
Remember one thing as you walk away

I, I could've been you
You could've been me
One small change
that shapes your destiny
If you want the proof
Cut me and you'll see
I could've been you
You could've been me

Candy Candy Candy

I spoke too soon.

Yesterday I was telling one of my co-workers that I was pleasantly surprised about how "good" Ted had been about Halloween candy this year. And by good I mean not brandishing a shovel at the Wal Mart greeter as he charges the doors with shopping cart full of sweets. This year I honestly thought Ted was going to be satisfied with the few meager bags of mini-chocolate bars he bought at Loblaws a week ago.

I'm so silly.

Last night (being Halloween n' all) he came home with what can only be described as a "Shit Load" of candy - and - cute beyond all else - one of those orange plastic jack-o-lanterns that young kids use to trick-or-treat with before they learn the damage they can do with a few pillow-cases and a wagon. I kinda giggled at the jack-o-lantern as I asked him where he got it, and he told me his co-workers bought it for him. (knowing how much he loves Halloween)

I'm not truly complaining about all this, 'cause it makes him so happy. I just wish I could crack open a can of "iron will" and not touch any of it. My list of casualties so far is a mere mini Twix bar (love 'em) and a single "Atomic Fireball" (which wasn't nearly as hot as I remembered it.)

Since I was sick still, our original plan of Chinese Food at Steve and Jamie's place with weed and scary movies was sadly kiboshed. But we did settle-in and watch a cute animated movie called "Monster House", which was about as "Halloween" as one can hope to get without a costume.

Incidentally, for my own historic documents: Module 4 final mark: 92%. Purposefully trying not to talk about the course in general because all I do is bitch and moan about it and even I'm tired of listening to me. Still hate it more than anything though.

I missed posting on Halloween, but this was the song I had in mind: Michael Jackson's attempt to recapture the spooky, past-glory of Thriller on his last album "Invincible". This song is called "Threatened". It's not Thriller by any stretch of the "yo", but I like it.

[ROD SERLING INTRO]
Tonight's story is somewhat unique and calls for a different kind of introduction
A monster had arrived in the village
The major ingredient of any recipe for fear is the unknown
And this person or thing is soon to be met
He knows every thought, he can feel every emotion
Oh yes, I did forget something didn't I
I forgot to introduce you to the monster.

You're fearing me, 'cause you know I'm a beast
Watching you when you sleep, when you're in bed I'm underneath
You're trapped in halls, and my face is the walls
I'm the floor when you fall, and when you scream it's 'cause of me

I'm the living dead, the dark thoughts in your head
I know just what you said
That's why you've got to be threatened by me

[CHORUS]
You should be watching me,
you should feel
threatened
Why you sleep, why you creep,
you should be
threatened
Every time your lady speaks
she speaks to me,
threatened
Half of me
you'll never see,
so you should feel
threatened by me

You think you're by yourself, but it's my touch you felt
I'm not a ghost from Hell, but I've got a spell on you
In one blink I'll disappear, and then I'll come back to haunt you
I'm telling you, when you lie under a tomb
I'm the one watching you
That's why you got to be threatened by me

[CHORUS][ROD SERLING VERSE]
The unknown monster is about to embark
From a far corner, out of the dark
A nightmare, that's the case
Never Neverland, that's the place
This particular monster can read minds
Be in two places at the same time
This is judgement night, execution, slaughter
The devil, ghosts, this monster is torture
You can be sure of one thing, that's fate
A human presence that you feel is strange
A monster
that you can see disappear
A monster,
the worst thing to fear.

[CHORUS x 3][ROD SERLING OUTRO]
What you have just witnessed could be the end of a particularly terrifying nightmare.
It isn't.
It's the beginning.

J-Rok Hip Hop Luva Yo

Some days I can think of nothing better than to be curled-up and cozy, listening to classical music. Like today for example; except I'm neither cozy nor curled-up, but I do have Classical 96.3 on behind me at my desk. I have the distinction of being a 33 year old, white guy working at a hip hop and R&B station, which some might think odd to begin with. But imagine and further the oddity of seeing an office of young, hip, urban kids (I say kids, because most of them are at LEAST 7 years younger than me; some of them 10 or more years younger.) walking into our open concept office and hearing classical music to their left (of the entrance where I sit) and hip hop to their right. If they didn't think I was un-cool to begin with. hee That's not to say I have it on all the time, but I'd wager I have classical music on at least 2 out of 5 work days a week. It does nothing to block out the blaring sirens of passing emergency vehicles (which I'm treated to, no less than at least 3 times a day or more - I've never actually counted, but it's an underestimate - believe me.) or even my co-workers who just have to hear the latest Chingy song for the 5 millionth time. I also know that 33 isn't that old, but it's old to be working in this format of music.

Nope, I'm not big on the hip hop at least not the modern stuff. Old school hip hop; I'm there. But maybe it's just my age when I say modern hip hop is an exercise in the looping of samples incessantly until each and every listening brain either a) succumbs to it's mindlessness and starts believing it's art or b) hits the wall otherwise known as the threshold of pain. I'm quite obviously of the latter persuasion, 'cause I'd say about 95% of all modern hip hop is meaningless drek. It used to be socially conscious and entertaining, or at least have SOME kind of message. Now it's just noise about clubbing and violence and wealth and possessions and sex and substance abuse. With a few exceptions to the rule (ie: I do like Kanye West and Ludacris although Ludacris is guilty of covering all those things in his music, but he's genuinely talented and funny as hell.)

Changin' gears, tomorrow is Hallowe'en, and the Tedster and I have not decorated at all. It's a sad, sad time. Normally we're all over Halloween. We pride ourselves in buying new decorations every year to add to our ensemble. This year the entire month of October just kinda got away from us. We bought a few decorative items, but that's about it. Porthos' house training and the subsequent need to clean the apartment constantly just put a kink in the whole affair. Just to put that into perspective; it generally takes us about 2 days to put all the Halloween stuff out. I'd say it's just as involved, if-not-more so complex than decorating for Christmas. The verdict is still out on whether we'll decorate for that festive occasion either. Maybe just a tree this year. Gachk!!! I've just committed the very crime we bitch about: Halloween and Christmas in the same breath. Curse you commercial retailers!!! Ah well, I love Halloween, 'cause there's all the festivities and fun, with none of the financial burden or full-blown stress that comes with Christmas. Did it again. Damn.

It's not classical, and it's certainly not hip hop. No one could ever accuse me of sticking to any given theme. Here's a favourite song for no particular reason: Natalie Imbruglia "Counting Down the Days"

You were right
And I don't wanna be here
If your gonna be there
Was that supposed to happen

I'll hold tight
I'll remember to smile
Though it has been a while
And without you does it matter?

There's no room
No place to start
When our souls are apart

I wanna travel through time
See your surprise
Hold you so tight
I'm counting down the days tonight
I just wanna be a million miles away from here
I'm counting down the days

How've you been
It's just the usual here
And days are feeling like years
And every day's without you

Now I cry
Just a little too much
When I think of your touch
And everything about you

I feel cold
I'm in the dark
When our souls are apart

I wanna travel through time
See your surprise
Hold you so tight
I'm counting down the days tonight
I just wanna be a million miles away from here

I wanna travel through time
See your surprise
Hold you so tight
I'm counting down the days tonight
I just wanna be a million miles away from here
I'm counting down the days
I'm counting down the days
I'm counting down the days

Roses and Rudebox

Now tell me if I "should" feel jealous, because I really don't, but Ted got flowers from another man on Wednesday and I thought it was one of the most romantic gestures I've seen in a very long time.

Y'see, Ted's been in a training course all week (it's over now much to his relief) and he mentioned meeting this other guy in one of his group sessions whom he was certain was also gay. He mentioned this to me on Monday or Tuesday. The guy (I forget his name) was obviously quite taken with Ted because on Wednesday he brought a dozen roses to the hotel (where Ted works) and Ted had to let him down easy by telling him he was very kind but "already got a boyfriend". He remained friendly and even joked about it before the end of the week, rather than cower away in embarrassment. I don't really have much more detail than that, but I just thought it was sweet. Ted was very flattered and I could tell it made him feel really good about himself; in a way that he wouldn't if I had been the one sending the flowers. I just wanted to document that so I'd remember it, because I thought it was wonderful. The roses aren't holding up so well, but they really were beautiful. (purple-pink which evidently means "sweet love" according to Ted) How often does a gay man get flowers from another man he just met, in his own workplace? And Ted says no one ever looks at him. pshawww!

Not going to write much more because I'm sick and I think I'll go have a nap.

LOVING the new Robbie Williams CD "Rudebox". Can't tell you how much I'm lovin' it. It's the most randomly upbeat, euro-pop fun album he's ever released, full of genuine Robbie cheeky humour and incredibly valid subtext statements about the world. I love Robbie Williams. (this is not one of his more "deep" songs, but it's funky, funky, funky.)

Rudebox

Do the rudebox, Shake your rudebox x4

Ok then back to basics, grab your shell toes and your fat laces
A little hand clap for some funk faces and make your body move in the following places
Goes up your back and then down your spine and when it hits your head?

Ok then back to baseheads, dance like you just won at the special Olympics
I got the rudebox of the back of a spaceship, so sick I just had to take it
The R.U.D.E.B.O.X. up yer jacksy, split yer kecks
sing a song of semtex, pocket full of durex, body full of mandrex.
Are we gonna have sex (yes)
will you wear your knee socks (ohh)
back to the rudebox

Got this double fantasy where we just never stop,
I've got one design and that's to funk you to the top.
Know whats on my mind there's only one thing you will find,
I got one design and that's to bump you til you drop

Rudebox, do the rudebox, cos you so nasty
Rudebox, shake your rudebox, why you so nasty
Rudebox, do the rudebox, cos you so nasty
Rudebox, shake your rudebox, why you so nasty

Ok then back to spaceship, take both pills fuck the Matrix
Jack those Jills shake your Playtex rock 3 stripes not the Asics
A.D.I.D.A.S old school cos it's the best? Yes
TK Max cost less... yes. Jackson looks a mess... bless.

Ok then what to do, if you try to jack me I'll rudebox you,
if you rudebox me ill rudebox your whole crew cos its what I do aint that right boo? true
I'll ride with you if you can get me to the border cos the sheriff's after me for what I did to his daughter.

I did it like this.
you did it like that?
I love it when you double clap clap

Grab this double fantasy where we just never stop, I've got one design and that's to funk you to the top.
Know whats on my mind there's only one thing you will find, I got one design and that's to bump you til you drop

Rudebox, do the rudebox, cos you so nasty
Rudebox, shake your rudebox, why you so nasty
Rudebox, do the rudebox, cos you so nasty
Rudebox, shake your rudebox, why you so nasty

Ok then check the tan line, make your body shake like you stood on a landmine
call me on my mobile not the landline and the jack the mainline at the same time
Ok this is what we do, got a jam so fresh its nice for you
Ok give it what you got and dial 808 for the bass to drop
Ok then whats the fracas grab your cardy your lead hat and your bus pass
you don't sweat much for a fat lass, grab your rudebox cos your box is righteous
Ok bum rush the show I got high speed dubbing on my stereo
and all the tunes in the box are the cherrio, I know I told you before, did you hear me though

Grab this double fantasy where we just never stop,
I've got one design and that's to funk you to the top.
Know whats on my mind there's only one thing you will find,
I got one design and that's to bump you til you drop

Rudebox, do the rudebox, cos you so nasty
Rudebox, shake your rudebox, why you so nasty
Rudebox, do the rudebox, cos you so nasty
Rudebox, shake your rudebox, why you so nasty

Do the rudebox, shake your rudebox (repeat to fade)

A Heavy Heart

The world is in need of some serious joy. I say this because it would seem that things just keep getting more bleak with every morning paper.

I would never pretend to be a political person, nor would I pretend to be a spiritualist - at least not anymore. But it seems to me that people as a species have entirely missed the point of what it means to be here; to exist. I know this is so heavy I don't even really want to take it on as a topic. However, I'm feeling the need.

The way I see it, the things that matter most in this life are good health, kindness and respect. Yet financial greed and selfishness abound, as does religious fanaticism. There is no joy in any of those things. Would anyone argue that all of our time and effort spent on obtaining wealth, and converting others to our own personal beliefs, would be better spent on medical research, making sure that future generations can continue to exist and thrive on our planet without destroying it, and just being kind to others? I know it's simplistic (perhaps naive) and I may be hypocritical in my own day to day, by not running off to some third world country to contribute to the solution as opposed to rotting away in my own consumerist lifestyle, being part of the problem. I tell myself I'm a good person because I make the utmost of efforts to be kind to "everyone" I encounter. Honestly, I do. (I'm speaking of the "kindness" part, in particular, not just the self-delusion that I'm a good person.) I'm an avid recycler, and I use public transit, I contribute to charities when I can, but none of this stuff truly makes a difference in the grand scheme of things. How does one get beyond the nagging, gnawing belief that the world is going to hell in a hand-basket and there's seemingly nothing to be done that can stop it?

Brought-up in a Pentecostal home by a hopelessly reality-free mother, I was always taught that nothing in this life matters but God, and serving God. Happiness, is an afterthought that you'll find if you win God's lottery of the faithful. Knowing from a young age that I was gay, immediately put me at a disadvantage in the whole, good-Christian living way-of-life, and my mother to this day still hides her head in the sand on the whole issue, choosing to have a son who tells her what she wants to hear, rather than face the truth and rethink her own values. At 33 years of age, I'm more than comfortable with who I am, and I refuse to believe that I'm going to burn in hell over something I can't change even if I wanted to.

I'm not even certain I believe in God anymore which makes the whole concept of hell a moot point. I'd like to believe in God, but as a species on the whole, I don't think human beings deserve the kind of grace I was always taught to believe God possesses, and that goes for the people who whole-heartedly believe they're living the way that he would have them live and carrying out his will to the letter. It's just not right. Wars are being fought over religion. That's what most wars are fought over: beliefs in something that's not even tangible. To me it's not worth killing for, and it's certainly not worth dying for. I'd rather agree to disagree. You have your beliefs and I have mine. I know that in the real world that's simply not plausible, but I really think it should be.

Getting back to the way I was raised though; I was always taught that the way we believed was the only way "to" believe and everyone else would suffer for all eternity. And to even question your beliefs was wrong. (Strangely enough, I don't think I've ever written that kind of statement and just "looked" at it.) But I'm way beyond just "thinking" that that way of believing is merely flawed. I'm seriously at the point where I truly believe religion should be abolished. Or rather that we as a species would have been so much further along in our social progress had it never existed at all. I don't think that people should be "forced" to give up their beliefs, but I think it would do everyone a world of good to doubt themselves and question their doctrines. Dangerous thinking... I know. But I just don't understand how people can believe in anything so vehemently that they'd be willing to persecute, punish or eradicate others for not sharing in their beliefs.

Perhaps I feel this way only because I'm unwillingly on the list of most punishable sins in almost any religion because I'm gay. But I've yet to hear a reasonable explanation for why homosexuals should be stricken from the list of things that are natural or holy. I'm sorry, but the bible just doesn't cut it for me. We as a species have "sexual" urges ingrained into our DNA and no one can tell me that in our cavalcade of differences that same-sex attraction isn't natural. Easy for me to say huh?

Anyhow... I realize I've said a whole lot and simultaneously nothing at all. But to just vent my feelings into cyber oblivion feels good. Therapeutic even. And I've got a heaviness in my heart that just won't seem to go away, because of all the atrocities I read and hear about on a daily basis. It will never make sense to me and whether or not I can ever accept it doesn't seem to matter anyhow.

I promise to write about something a whole lot more optimistic the next time I blog.

This song was written by Amy Grant shortly after the events of September 11th, 2001. It's on her album "Simple Things". The lyrics are given much more depth when you can listen to the song. It brings me comfort in it's simplicity... acknowledging helplessness and how fragile life is. It's honest; if not a solution to anything.

"I Don't Know Why"

This is one of those moments
When all that really matters
Is crystal clear
We are woven together
By whatever threads of life that have
Brought us here

We are stripped of all our layers
We are getting to the core
Tell me something real
And nothing more

I don't know why
I don't know how
I don't know where
Baby all I know is now.

So I'm here between the bookends
Of everything that was and
What will be
There's a wealth of information
And not so many answers
It seems to me

So I face the unfamiliar
And nothing is clear
Only blinding faith can carry me from here

And I don't know why
I don't know how
I don't know where
Baby all I know is now

Hold my hand and hold this moment
Time sure feels precious don't it
Life is always changing
This I know

I don't know why
I don't know how
I don't know where
Baby all I know is now
Baby all I know is now

I Don't Feel Like Dancin'

Sometimes life just whips by in a blur of colour and frustration, wouldn't you say?
It bothers me to no end that I've had no time to write in my blog, and when I have had time I haven't had the inclination.

Life's events as of late:
The god-forsaken course is going well, but not quickly enough. Although I shouldn't complain about that as my "procrastinatious" nature prevents me from getting to work on assignments early or (whaaaa ha ha ha) working ahead. My marks keep improving though. Module One: 84%, Module Two: 88% and Module Three: 93%. Only 4 more modules to go before the exam and the subsequent freedom it will bring. God, how I'm looking forward to having it over and done with.

Porthos. Porthos, Porthos, Porthos... that dog is single-handedly leeching away my life force. At this point in my life I can say in all-honesty (and sheer exhaustion) that I NEVER WANT ANOTHER PUPPY. That's not to say I don't love him, and that's not to say I never want another dog, but his youthful, puppy exhuberance is proving waaaaay too taxing on my patience and my general quality of life. He's into everything constantly, requires non-stop attention and exercise, and he's still not completely house-trained, although it would seem we're getting there. (knock on wood, hug a troll, rub a rabbit's foot, stomp on a smurf... whatever... not takin' any chances) In general, if we can get him out for an hour-long walk each day, he expends some of his energy and remains a happy dog and is content to then just sit and chew on a bone or cuddle up with Cole... but if he has no avenue to burn off the aforementioned energy, he's is a complete terror. The weather as of late (which can be described as nothing short of torrential drenchings) has prevented us from walking him and made him a perfect devil dog. The latest casualty being a PS2 controller wire which he severed while we had company on the weekend. He's cute, and affectionate, and I have no doubt that "One Day" he will be a wonderfully, behaved and social dog, but that day is far, far down the tunnel.

In other news, thanksgiving weekend did not go down without drama. I ended up getting into a verbal scrap with Ted's youngest sister Mel. She and I haven't spoken since this time, and I don't really have any intention of mending fences just yet, because there's still a lot I want to get off my chest with regards to how disrespectful, and dismissive she is with me. Hell, not just with me; with her entire family. I won't go into full detail, but I will summarize by saying she and I will never likely return to the level of camaraderie we once shared before the years of her self-centred antics wore me down to the low opinion I currently have of her. (that and, the stupid shrew almost ran over her 3 year old nephew with her car in one of her infamous temper tantrums.) ....happy thoughts.... happy thoughts.... It's amazing how much anger and resentment I've been harbouring towards her. I don't like it at all.

Blah... to end on a positive note I'm enjoying 2 new CD's: Scissor Sisters "Ta Dah" and Heather Headley "In My Mind". Both filled with wonderful, uniquely artistic music. I'm very pleased with them, and I'm burnin' up my iPod to prove it.

Song of the day.... "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" by Scissor Sisters.

Wake up in the morning with a head like 'what ya done?'
This used to be the life but I don't need another one.
Good luck cuttin' nothin', carrying on, you wear them gowns.
So how come I feel so lonely when you're up getting down?

So I play along when I hear that favourite song
I'm gonna be the one who gets it right.
You better know when you're swingin' round the room
Look's like magic's solely yours tonight

But I don't feel like dancin'
When the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance
But my two feet can't find a way
You think that I could muster up a little soft, shoop devil sway
But I don't feel like dancin'
No sir, no dancin' today.

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Even if i find nothin' better to do
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Why'd you break down when I'm not in the mood?
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Rather be home with no one when I can't get down with you

Cities come and cities go just like the old empires
When all you do is change your clothes and call that versatile.
You got so many colours make a blind man so confused.
Then why can't I keep up when you're the only thing I lose?

So I'll just pretend that I know which way to bend
And I'm gonna tell the whole world that you're mine.
Just please understand, when I see you clap your hands
If you stick around I'm sure that you'll be fine.

But I don't feel like dancin'
When the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance
But my two feet can't find a way
You think that I could muster up a little soft, shoop devil sway
But I don't feel like dancin'
No sir, no dancin' today.

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Even if i find nothin' better to do
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Why'd you break down when I'm not in the mood?
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Rather be home with no one when I can't get down with you

You can't make me dance around
But your two-step makes my chest pound.
Just lay me down as you blow it away into the shimmer light.

But I don't feel like dancin'
When the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance
But my two feet can't find a way
You think that I could muster up a little soft, shoop devil sway
But I don't feel like dancin'
No sir, no dancin' today.

Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Even if i find nothin' better to do
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Why'd you break down when I'm not in the mood?
Don't feel like dancin', dancin'
Rather be home with no one when I can't get down with you