Wacky Western

Overheard at Western

Step 1: Remove head from ass. Step 2: Open eyes. Repeat as necessary.
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Girl #1: Oh..... Is this a Great Lake, too? (points to Lake Winnipeg)
Girl #2: Umm... No. These are the Great Lakes. Do you know where Hudson's Bay is?
Girl #1: Umm...... (pause)
Girl #2: Okay. I'll give you a hint. It's a really big bay.
Girl #1: Is this it? (points to Atlantic ocean)
Girl #2: No... that's the Atlantic Ocean.
Girl #1: Oh. Is this it? (points to the Gulf of St. Lawrence)
Girl #2: No. It's here. (points)
Girl #1: Okay, then what's this?
Girl #2: That's South America.
Girl #1: Oh, that's where Mexico is, right?
Girl #2: Umm... no. This is Mexico. (points)
Girl #1: Oh. Then what's that over there?
Girl #2: That would be Europe.
Girl #1: You're so smart. How did you get so smart? I never learned this stuff.
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I'll never question the logic behind basic University level geography courses again. In fact, I'm not sure I ever did . . .

Son of a gun

It looks like Blogger ate some of the code necessary for viewing my blog.

• Luckily this didn’t affect my posts, and they’re all still here intact.
• Unfortunately I lost all the wonderful websites and blogs that I had linked to.
• Luckily it won’t be too hard to find them all again.
• Unfortunately it’s going to be a pain in the neck having to reconfigure my blog so that I like it.
• Luckily this means my blog’s getting a make over!

Jimmy Jet and his T.V. set

In my life I have watched a lot of t.v. despite the fact that as a child the amount of television I was allowed to watch was strictly governed by my mother. I was allowed only a few shows, all of which were educational. These viewing restrictions were facilitated by our lack of a television antenna. Until I was 13 I didn’t know how to work a television without rabbit ears. Despite these ‘hardships’ the television that I watched as a child plays a strange significance in my life as an adult. I can still sing many of my favourite television shows theme songs and I have an alarming recollection of all things Sesame Street. The feeling I get when I actually hear these songs again is nothing short of a genuine nostalgia. What’s even more alarming is how many of my friends share the same warm fuzzy feeling. Television has provided our generation with it’s only real unifying experiences. Being able to instantly recognize the theme from The Littlest Hobo is an incredibly telling phenomenon. Television plays into both our national and personal identities. Is it possible to entirely forsake television and still relate to one’s peers? I’m sure it is, but it’s an experience few of us will ever have.

Jamie likes to be bad

Brawny Man Mishap

While at work the other day, I was showing Black Pepper Jack my blog, and he pointed out that my new profile picture somewhat resembles what the Brawny man looked like. I find myself unable to contest his point. His assertion that the resemblance is the result of intentional choice is, however, completely fallacious. I will admit that plaid is one of my favourite fashion choices, and that life in a rustic cabin is quite an appealing prospect to me, but both interests predate my exposure to the Brawny man. With all this said, I guess I should still give everyone the opportunity to judge for themselves. Thus, here we are . . .

Of beards and beers

I’ve recently come to believe that there is a point in a young mans life (whether or not he ever actually grows out of it is yet to be determined) where the discussion of different beers and facial hair styles takes on special significance. I have spent countless hours discussing with friends, and relative strangers alike, the best forms of facial hair, and the merits of different beers. I have spoken to both adults and teens, friends and foes, and there always seems to be a common interest in either beards or beers and in many cases both! I may be mistaken, and these conversations may exist only because I am a part of them, but I suspect this is not the case.

Please, if you have ever held a lengthy conversation with regards to your favourite beer, or debated which style of facial hair is the finest, post a comment and let the world know. I cannot suffer alone any longer . . .

Music as a total disruption of sobriety

Since posting my link to Independent Canadian Celtic music, I have regained my zest for the sweet amber poison. It’s funny how a man can be sitting in his apartment (an apartment totally devoid of alcohol) and upon hearing one rousing drinking song can crave the taste of cold ale and the allure of the public house so fully. Alas, although these recent longings of mine have yet remained unrealized, I rest assured that the time for their realization will soon be upon us.

These eyes

Recently, I was taking candid pictures of my roommate (not usually a good place to start but I’m sticking with it), and I snapped a close up picture of his eyes. In order to avoid an angry and potentially painful physical confrontation I turned the camera on myself. I managed to capture my own eyes in almost the exact same position as I caught Flash’s. I now turn the question over to you . . .whose eyes are whose? (Be careful, this one is extremely tricky)

Some things change, others stay the same

In a world where fulfilment is achieved through the consumption of commercial goods, the life of a nomad is almost the antithesis of modern living. When you have to carry everything you own with you, you tend to own less. To a nomad over consuming is a barrier standing in the way of their lifestyle. In the global north, there are fewer and fewer people able to live a traditional nomadic lifestyle. European Roma (Gypsies) have, in many cases, abandoned their traditional lifestyles and joined the global state of sedentary normality. Having never lived a nomadic lifestyle, I can’t vouch for it’s ability to fulfil a person. I do, however, think it’s interesting and important to consider it a valid lifestyle, with lessons pertaining directly to the human experience.

Minimize your footprint

http://www.earthday.net/footprint/index.asp#

Check this out. My footprint was lower than the average for Canadians, but if everyone consumed like I did we would still require three and a half earths to sustain ourselves. The test is a useful little tool, and it’s results can be surprising.

It’s Folk Folks

Do yourself a favour and click the link, on the right, which leads you to Roots Music Canada. From there look on the ‘Roots & Folk’ bar, and click ‘Celtic’. Listen to anything by ‘The Town Pants’ or ‘The Fables’. You’ll thank me for it!

Guardian

I’m not sure what the intended significance of this picture was, but I liked it’s overall aesthetic. There are many more of them on the site, some of which I really found visually powerful, and others which didn’t really speak to me. I won’t list which pictures did and which pictures didn’t; instead I’ll let you decide for yourself.

Blah

I found my old Zine 'Blah' the other day and was reading it. Some of it is really good, some of it isn't. I came across the comic that I wrote, which was inspired by the comics in the cord. Here it is, submitted for the approval of the midnight society, I call this comic ‘Campus Life’.

Ugly, but lovely

So I'm picking up Black Pepper Jack from his place to head out to Boston Pizza for a Bon Voyage party, and I glimpse one of the pictures he has on his computer. It's Sam, the world's ugliest dog. Poor thing has won the title three years in a row. Apparently he likes to chew on his hind leg, sources say it's because he thinks there is something living in there. He's about fifteen years old, and is apparently a very loving and affectionate dog.


This cat, apparently named ‘Insane Snow Duck’, holds no titles for being the world’s ugliest specimen, but he’s got my vote.

So much

Since I last posted, so much has happened. I’ve been to parties, been to work, heard music and seen movies. I’ve met new people and been reacquainted with old friends. I’ve taken pictures, and had pictures taken far too numerous to post here on my blog. I’ve even sat down to post, but upon completion of my update found myself incredibly disinterested in actually posting it. Of course I saved each one as a draft, just in case some time in the future I decide to come back to them. The sad thing is, I probably never will. The ideas that excited me, not longer seem to.

I’ve got drafts about putting together a futon, living in Brantford and not going to Laurier, finding chestnuts, and hallowe’en. It’s quite probable that none of these posts will ever actually reach my blog, so, I’m going to try to summarise everything into one post so that I can move on and not feel that I’m leaving anything out.

Pictures from this past Hallowe’en can be found here, here, here, and probably a bunch of places that I don’t even know of. I’ve tried to make stew in a pumpkin, but gave up and just made stew. I’ve been to the market two weeks in a row, and I’ve been out with Shabudabu’s clan, heard music from a great ‘unknown’ band, and been made second in command at work. I’ve avoided karaoke for a week, and watched ‘Desperate Housewives’ enough, that I actually want to see how the first season ends. I watched ‘Crash’ with the Flash, and felt fulfilled and overworked all at the same time.

Phew . . . feels good to get all that off my chest.

Happy Hallowe'en

Can you name the classic horror paintings and the artist who painted each?

There are no prizes, except the satisfaction of knowing you’ve impressed you peers.