I was distinguishing Die Hard fromDie Hard 2 by explaining to a friend that the second Die Hard is the one with the limo. "It doesn't take place in a limo" they said. "No, there's just one it" I responded. Then I thought to myself; takes place in a limo, what a great idea for a movie! Almost as thrilling as Phone Booth taking place in a phone booth. Which lead me to the question: WTF happened to Colin Farrell?
I haven't seen him in a long time considering movie star years, which are similar to dog years. Did he die from alcohol poisoning? Syphilis perhaps? Oh, right -- Miami Vice. What a turd that was. Beautiful cinemetogpahy wasted on bad actors breathily reciting horribley-written dialogue. It turns out that he is still alive and is apparently starring in movies that I haven't heard of.
UPDATE: Thanks to Wikipedia, I have now been informed that painkillers are his poison and not alcohol as previously stated. In other old news, it appears Colin has a penchant for being polite to prostitutes and having bastard children. He also bought a homeless man in Toronto an apartment, took him on a $3000 shopping-spree and convinced him to stop drinking. Mazal tov!
1. Diaper learns to not pee himself 2. Briefs realizes tightywhities are lame 3. Boxers realizes boxers are impractical 4. Boxer briefs no longer trying to impress anyone 5. Briefs forgets to not pee himself 6. Diaper Honourable Alternates: The Union Suit/Long Johns The Thong/G-String The Manssiere/Bro The TallitKatan The Kaccha
Today I went to Future Shop. While browsing through the TV section I noticed a computer set up that had a large widescreen monitor with a stretched out picture. What was this skewed image of you ask? A Facebook profile. Not just ANY Facebook profile but a SIGNED IN Facebook profile. Now I don't get much shots at sabotage and this particular gentleman who had left his profile signed in, to my knowledge, has done me no wrong. That being said, how could I resist? He was listed as in a relationship with a certain someone. What did I do next? I wrote on her wall. Now this might sound bad but trust me, it was hilarious at the time. I told her that I wanted to see other people.
My mom called me tonight - we hadn't talked in a couple of days. She went to a Rod Stewart concert Saturday night. This was her third time seeing him in a year and a half. She's been going to his concerts since the 80's and has no idea how many she's been to over the years.
We talked about Rod and Elvis, her guys, and John Cusack, my guy. We concluded; tall dark and handsome, though that doesn't explain Rod. I recounted my dream from the previous night which included a dinner with a revolving cast of distant acquaintances and members of Sloan. It took a dark twist resulting in the untimely death of a pet mouse. Deep introspection was needed for that one.
She just called back to let me know that they were talking about the Pixies on 107.9. It quickly turned into a breathy crooning version of Tainted Love but that's beside the point. The moral of the story? My mom is the coolest.
"I heard that he punches stars right out of the sky and eats whole giraffes for breakfast, lunch and dinner." "...And space eagles. They're the tastiest. At least 1,900 calories per carcass."
He also apparently eats his own feces to retain those 12,000 calories. He has flippers for Christ's sake! The sportscaster even said so! Oh, and those little legs! Tee hee hee.
Yesterday I purchased Michael Ian Black's latest literary effort My Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays That Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face. I rationalized paying $29.39 by reminding myself that he is a struggling artist with a family to feed. The Coles employee also informed me that "He's funny."
I got to the ninth page and thought to myself "Wooo take 'er easy! You're burnin' through this book like wildfire! Baby steps girl, baby steps. You keep goin' and there's no tellin' how fast you'll finish this thing!" So I've read nine pages. Here's a scented candle/genital comparison excerpted from the book: "Everybody loves a good scented candle. Scented candles are to people's nostrils what friction is to their genitals-in other words, terrific."
I've been catching up on missed talk shows lately, specifically The Tonight Show. Now I know Leno is leaving next year but the crew left 2 weeks ago. The cameramen are really shitting the bed lately. They couldn't block a shot to save their lives. Triumph the Insult Comic Dog was on after Kevin Spacey on the 25th and you could see the puppeteers entire forearm and the bald crown of his curly-haired Jew head. This would never have happened to Kermit on Carson.
Also, Jay has become very brazen as of late. Jesse McCartney performed on the aforementioned episode and when introducing him, Jay mentioned the title of his album 'Departure.' I'm sure I'm stepping on the joke but Jay pointed out that it's a good name if you're leaving. He's certainly more lax when it comes to the censors. Maybe this falls on the producer's lap or whatever lackey intern does the pre-interviews but Jay had no problem with Seth Rogen's masturbation talk. He encouraged it! (Kudos, by the way.)
In other talk show related tirades, there's the double standard when it comes to guests. I've heard Adam Carolla mention this before, as he has been through it many a time. When an attractive female is on a talk show all they have to do is just that -- be attractive. They tell frivolous stories that go nowhere and the host is forced to indulge them. I guess it goes for some of the males as well. When it's an average looking celebrity or comedian, they have to dance. They film a clip or rehearse a bit, as Carolla is known to do on Kimmel. Hell, he even rode out on a unicycle once.
Oh look! A separate televised unicycle stunt. Dance Adam, dance for The Man. Which reminds me, besides this and the Jimmy Kimmel Live appearance I was referring to, he also unicycled on Dancing With The Stars. Oh man.
Even if you're a well-established figure, aren't you obliged to entertain? It's your job! You don't see Don Rickles talking about shoe shopping when he goes on Letterman. (Though he could if he wanted to, he's earned it.) As an entertainer in the entertainment industry shouldn't you entertain? Say, make a joke or two, act like you have a pulse? The worst is when they don't even try to plug. Maybe they don't feel they need to, just showing up is enough.
Do I sound bitter yet? Was this a tactless quipping? I'm not sure. I guess I didn't display much tact when referring to Robert Smigel's cranium, (although I didn't mean it in a derogatory sense, I love Jews. Anyone who knows me knows I love the Jews. I guess I was just trying to point out that dogs don't typically have the arm of a Jew shoved up their butts. A Gentile sure, but never a Jew) but when I think "quipping" I think "brief." Maybe I should stick to writing Things I've Bought That I Love posts and stop watching so much TV.
P.S. Did anyone see Mindy Kaling on Letterman? This is a relevant question because she is partly responsible for starting this blog and he is partly to blame for this entry.
I just realized I was being watched doing what I would describe as a Salsa Shuffle. I was getting my groove on to Intergalactic by the Beastie Boys when I sauntered over to the window sill to see a Polo-shirted young man staring at me. I did a 180 and flopped down on my butt and closed the curtains. He is probably still there. What is he doing there anyway?
Bonus dance recounting: I've been sick for four or five days now. Congested, laryngitis, a bit of a cough but not miserable. I think I'm on a common cold high. I was dancing like crazy today! I took out my old boom box recently. It used to get left outside and still has Pine pollen inside the speakers. It's much better than my newer fancier stereo. The newer fancier one cuts out if it is turned up too loud and has a mind of it's own when it comes to deciding when to work again.
Anywho, The Offspring's Keep 'Em Separated was on the radio. It's one of those songs that I forget about and am surprised to realize I know the lyrics. It got me moving and pumped me up to put on Sloan's Navy Blues. (Which has been called one of Canada's greatest albums, rightfully so.) I started feverishly strutting up and down the room like Mick Jagger to She Says What She Means. A little bit later I got a nice slow burn on to Sinking Ships and was re-energized and bouncing around, emulating a young Anthony Kiedis to Keep On Thinkin' -- one of my favourites.
Go ahead and skip to 1:30. Note: Chris sans glasses, energetic Jay
Oh, and of course the title inspiration:
I hope this makes up for my ten day absence. Goodnight.
I've been watching Toronto news stations and obsessively checking weather sites hoping for a chance that it won't rain tonight. Sloan are playing a free show at BMO Field and I have the GO Train schedules all figured out. They play so many shows around where I live, many of them free, I just can't believe I still haven't seen them. So am I willing to stand in the rain (thunderstorms) with a bunch of drunk guys yelling at the stage? I wasn't 100% sure until I just turned the channel to see the new Believe In Me video. I'm convinced.
We've all been there. It's Friday night, it's getting late, you're hungry. There's nothing in the house to eat--time for some take-out. You've had pizza three times this week, you're sick of it.So here's the quandary: KFC or Chinese?Well now you don't have to choose. In case the image isn't clear, those are chopsticks and fortune cookies. The green tea has a distinct Asian vibe as well. Delicious.
Today I went to Coles to look for Michael Ian Black and Kevin Nealon's new books. I had already picked up Kevin Nealon's, flipped through it and set it back down when I realized it was $28.95 a week prior. So I found Michael Ian Black's and checked the sleeve to see it was $29.95. My previous night's earnings would not cover either of these. (By the way, they certainly were NOT 34% off. Damn you Indigo.ca)I guess I'm going to have to get into a more lucrative business than babysitting.That or wait 6 months until they're released in soft cover.This was all very depressing so I decided to look for clothes, which turned out to be even more depressing. Until I found some wicked jeans for a mere $7.99.
If I'm absent for an extended period of time it's due to my computer exploding. It's quite old in computer years, which are similar to dog years, and I've gotten off pretty easy--I don't even remember the last time I had a problem with it besides this afternoon. If it does explode I will not only be away beacause it no longer functions but because I will be in mourning. Woe is me.
Today I went cherry picking. We walked around a bit until we found some bunches near the bottoms of the trees which were mildly sweet and a little too soft. Luckily I overheard the woman who raped us of our $35 say that the firmer cherries were in the first couple of rows. It takes a keen eye to spot the good ones. By keen eye I mean long legs because they are all at the top of the trees. Since my Dad doesn't have long legs he climbed instead. Here are the fruits of our labour. LITERALLY!
I will be starting a series of posts which are inspired by Vera Chokalingam/Mindy Kaling/Mindy Ephron/Kelly Kapoor/whatever other pseudonyms she goes by.
I will review my recent purchases, whether wise or unwise, with a clever, sardonic twist. Brace yourselves.
Hey how's it going? You should give me a call sometime! You've got my number right? You don't? Oh, well I'm pretty sure I've got yours around here somewhere... shit I think I lost it. Oh, that's right, you never gave it to me. Yeah I remember now, we've never even met. Give me a call anyways, I'm up for anything.
What do you mean I can't move in with him? Are you kidding me? Who are you to tell me what I'm not allowed to do? I mean what have you ever done for me? A house with only two bathrooms? Come on! What a joke! When I was five you wouldn't even get me that Barbie Jeep I wanted, and you have the temerity to tell me that an eighteen year age difference isn't "right?" Look who's talking! I'm supposed to listen to someone who once went out with a sophomore when they were a senior? Gross!
So I've been looking into rhinoplasty. I can't afford it, but my face sure can. Seriously though, I've looked at dozens of before and afters and I honestly haven't seen any noses wider than mine. Longer sure, there's plenty of boner noses but no brotherman novelty-width noses. The tip of your nose isn't supposed to be wider than your thumb, is it? I definitely know you shouldn't be able to fit two fingers up each nostril but I can. It gets the job done quicker.
Congratulations! Your new nose looks great!
This isn't a laughing matter. Let's get one thing straight. I don't have low self esteem. I have no self esteem. There's a big difference. Almost as big as my nose. I also don't have body dysmorhpic disorder. My nose is large. It's a fact. Another thing I noticed was that in the before pictures you couldn't see up the person's nose without trying. I am guilty of that. You should see me when I frown.
Many a times I've tried to convince my Mom to punch me in the face or my Dad to veer off the road and get into a serious accident to no avail. Even now as I look at pictures of me as a baby and a young child I notice it. Big blue eyes, sure, but the nose of a full-grown black man. I feel like Angela Chase. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll grow up to be just like Claire Danes. Blonde and super-skinny. Like rib-cage-instead-of-cleavage skinny. Maybe, just maybe...
I'll start off by saying that it's not Stephen. The born-again brother creeps me out, with all of his talk of Deuteronomy. Furthermore, he got really fat and sweaty. Though I do commend him for supporting Huckabee. Those comments about the concentration camps were a real hoot.
Alec. I like Alec. I think. Why couldn't he just go by Alex, it would be much easier.
Daniel. What's there to say about Daniel? His best work to date is his time spent in rehab. God Bless Dr. Drew.
And the other one--what's his nose. No one cares about him. Was it him that no one cares about or Daniel? Oh, that's right, William. The least scandalous of them all, how boring.
In conclusion and in summation my favourite Baldwin is Tito.
Why are you so hard? All I wanted to do was pick a percussion setting on my keyboard so I could make some beats. Is that so wrong? Is it so out of the question to have a good beat to spit over? I guess so.
Now I probably won't even be able to pursue my rap career because I can't afford an MPC. Besides, even if I did turn tricks and saved up the money to buy one, I still couldn't get anywhere, because you probably need "a basic understanding of music composition to create anything that actually sounds like music" or something stupid like that. Instead I need to take years of "lessons." Forget it!
Do you think Too $hort made it in this business because he "practised?" No way! He just woke up one day and thought it would be cool to be a rapper and has been stuck in the game ever since! You think Biggie took lessons? He's dead! I'd like to see piano chords help him now!
I often find my feet sore -- traditional peopleshoes just don't seem to adequately protect my feet from everyday wear and tear. This leads me to believe I would be much more comfortable with horseshoes.
I'm not sure whether I would prefer the glued-on-to the foot or the nailed-into the foot kind. Of course choosing the latter brings up the age-old question 'Do I need studs?' If so, I would then have to get myself a set of bell boots to protect my heels.
I am definitely putting the fashion aspect of picking out a pair of horseshoes into consideration. Although rawhide is becoming increasingly popular these days, I much prefer the classic steel/aluminium style. They seem to go great with every outfit!
In any case, I will need to find a professional to install them. Hit me up if you know of anyone who specializes in horseshoe fittings.
