Wednesday, June 30, 2004

It is still legal to download music for free from the internet in Canada as of yesterday after another failed attempt by the record industry to stop this legally. So, for now, I will continue to download music guilt free. In my opinion, the only one I may be hurting if I don't buy the CD (which isn't always the case) is the record company and not the actual band. Bands make most of their revenue from playing at shows and selling merchandise, not royalties, which is where the downloading debate comes into play. Kazaa and software like it actually helps some bands to get popular. An example of this would be Dispatch who never signed with a record company and even in cities where they had never before been, they could attract sold out crowds based only on word of mouth and Napster (at the time). If the time ever comes for my band to make a record, I would be the first person to share it on Kazaa and encourage all my friends who have the songs to do so as well.

Speaking of music, I have started to learn slide guitar, and by that I am making up cool songs and teaching myself the technique. For the moment I only have a bit of bathroom pipe to use as a tone bar, but it still sounds ok. People way back in the day used to use bottle necks, lighters, knives, etc. (there was probably some redneck who used his gun as a slide), so my bit of pipe isn't all that odd. This is the tone bar I will eventually get, if I feel I want to pursue the style.

Summary in seven words: Music for download, slide for the guitar.


Tuesday, June 29, 2004

One of the best ballads of all time is here written for all to enjoy. There are even links to sound bits at the bottom.

This is quite well done, don't you think? This may be better. What do you think? Of course, if it is more action and fighting you are looking for, then this might do it for you a bit better. No? How about this then? Alright then.

Up for something scary? Have a look at these. This guy is making good use of technology!

Summary in seven words: A post of only links. Sorry all.

Biking home from school (about three kilometers of wonderfully cracked and potted hilly road) with a guitar isn't much fun. In other news, the Bloc Quebecois got voted in for my riding. I'm not sure what to think about that yet (it wasn't who I voted for) so I'll just wait and see what happens.

I am soon to be an actual member of the Absolutely Absurd Party of Canada (linked to the right) and if they ever get to be in power, hopefully, I will become the ambassador to a country of my choice. If I have anything to say about it (which I surely do seeing as they practice direct democracy), the policy will be changed to include the addition of a 27th letter to the alphabet called 'zee' and will look the same as the current 'zed' but with a dash through it. This calls for an interesting story:

Last summer I was at a friends cottage near a lake in northern Vermont. One night we decided to go for a night fire on the beach we found a group of people approximately our age around an already existing fire. Naturally I started talking to one of the better looking American ladies and somehow the word 'zed' came up and she didn't know what that was. I explained that it was the last letter of the alphabet and that the reason Americans pronounce it 'zee' is because a long time ago they got pissed at the British who also pronounce it 'zed' and as one form of protest they decided to switch, just to make life difficult (which probably isn't true, but it seemed hilarious at the time and come to think of it, still does). She thinks about this for a moment and then comes up with this response:

Girl On The Beach: My last name is spelled Z-U-B-A, how do you say that in Canadian (yes she actually said that)?
Me: Zuba (pronouncing it as anyone would)
GOTB: You see? It is 'zee'!

Summary in seven words: Biking with guitar, Absolutely Absurd, funny story.


Sunday, June 27, 2004

Tomorrow is the big vote. The hype is inescapable, unless of course you don't turn on the radio, the television, talk to any friends and only rock in the loneliest corner of your basement in the fetal position humming quietly to yourself ... Sorry, I got a bit off track there. What I meant to say was that predictions and opinions are flying around the country like dander from a psychotic cat (notice I didn't say something made up like 'psychosomatic' or 'belligerent'). Needless to say, I will be voting and if you are in Canada, of age and have not yet voted in any of the advance polls, then you should too. If you don't care, at least show you are not apathetic and draw something funny on the ballot (bring a silver gel pen just in case). If you actually are apathetic, then pretend to be other wise and go to the polls anyways, they may have some free donuts and coffee there for you. I don't care who you are voting for, just go vote so you can have your say because if you don't vote, you have no right to complain about the government and their doings.

On a lighter note, I have forgotten all the code names for various activities that have to be kept from some people lest they be found out and dire consequences ensue. They were confusing to begin with, being things like 'The Snowman Walks at Midnight' (I think that one has been called off, but I can't remember if it was that one or not. In any case, one like that has been called off.) and 'Unleash the Mexicans' (that was an old one involving a wooden goat, a pointy stick and a t-shirt that had "got it going on" written on it). Anyways, code names for things are great until you have too many of them and they get confused and/or forgotten.

Summary in seven words: Vote, it is your duty. Code names.


Saturday, June 26, 2004

It was so foggy on the walk home today that if you looked across the road (which I did) you could see the fog. It did make for some cool effects though, such as eerie beams of light shining through trees and such. It was so foggy that if I ran, my uber cool glasses fogged up. It was also the shortest walk home (it was almost as if I was transported ... almost) I have ever known, or perhaps it just felt that way for some reason.

I met many people this evening: Phil (uber cool, though slightly off the mark. He's Swedish, here for the summer, so I'll forgive him), Dan (great guy, very funny), Amanda (didn't really talk to her, but she took some pretty good digital photos), another really cool girl who I can't quite remember the name of (I forgot it several times during the night too even though it is quite distinct and should be memorable. She is also quite beautiful, so there is really no excuses), but she liked soccer (Greece upset France 1-0 by the way, apparently that is the only score in soccer history) and was also quite funny. Matt can not be in a photo without looking creepy to the highest degree and insists that he does not look like Rowan Atkinson despite having been told he does since he was seven. Ryan also does, but especially when he tries, and especially when he wears his real beaver felt hat (he must have told me that little tidbit of information about 8 times throughout the night.

That's all for now as it is quite late and as such I am quite tired.

Summary in seven words: Non-sensical post involving people and fog.


Friday, June 25, 2004

He sped down the smoothly paved stretch of road, the end of his coat flapping behind him like the cape of a superhero in an eighties cartoon. His tires squeaked as he rounded a tight corner on two wheels, mostly because that’s how many were on his bike. His destination was home, his goal was sleep. On his right he passed the Hell’s Angels headquarters then a nunnery, on his right, nursery after nursery. Fatigue was nowhere to be found, yet he noticed his pace slowing. The bugs that had been smashing on his forehead earlier were now gone, but now the air was dense with humidity and seemed to cling to him as he sped through it. The hour was late; there were no cars on the road. Hill after hill, corner after corner he pushed and pounded his way through. His mind started to wander, to drift through the events of the day. Things he could have said, things he could have done, the choices that had been made. It all seemed clearer than it had at the time. An unknown type rodent lying on the side of the road brought his attention back to the road as he nearly ran it over. The empty streets welcomed him with their golden pools of light, one melting into the next. Soon the smooth asphalt became cracked and potted from wear, the heavily wooded areas at the roads edge dissolved into buildings. The welcome glow became a harsh glare and the sweet perfume of night developed into the soiled stench of stale grease from all the fast food restaurants now closed. He kept going.

Summary in seven words: Unfinished tale of bike home. Got bored.


Thursday, June 24, 2004

This is awesome! So is this.

New spam much better than the first.

From: Forest Kane
Subject: chestnut stalactites defined by 4

Message: Still buy an expensive gift for her from recliner toward deficit, write a love letter to her for corporation with haunch from.And play pinochle with the dark side of her piroshki.Sue, the friend of Sue and sweeps the floor with cream puff living with freight train.Sue, the friend of Sue and returns home with tuba player defined by guardian angel.thirteenth ordinal dialect bitumen courteous

I'm not even entirely sure this is spam as it doesn't appear to be selling or advertising anything. It makes almost as little sense as the gibberish from last time around even though "Forest" decided to use whole and actual words for the most part. I thought this one was quite funny, and if anyone from Argentina (or anywhere else for that matter) got this one also, I would like to hear about it. Also, if you have any idea as to the purpose that this could pose, please leave a comment with your theory. Personally I think it is a personal email that got sent to me by accident, but you never know.

Summary in seven words: It may or may not be spam.


Wednesday, June 23, 2004

According to this thing, my politics most closely resemble that of the NDP and Jack Layton. These are my scores:

Jack Layton. Leader of the New Democratic Party of Canada (score = 100)

Gilles Duceppe. Leader of the Bloc Quebecois (score = 58)

Stephen Harper. Leader of the Conservative Party of Canada (score = 50)

Paul Martin. Leader of Liberal Party of Canada, Prime Minister of Canada (score = 25)

And I thought I liked Stephen Harper. Well, internet quiz, you have shown me my true self once again. Either that or the test is somehow faulty ... unthinkable, of course. I'm sorry to say internet quiz that I will not be voting that way just because you say so, and not just because of Jack Layton's mustache. I have certain dealbreakers that I will not discuss, but suffice to say that the NDP doesn't cut it for me.

Summary in seven words: Internet telling me what to do again.


Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Band practice didn't happen last night for a variety of reasons, mostly involving people not showing up, and those that did feeling rather ill. This is not to say that I minded not having practice as I then got to hang out with the crew for a bit before all of our various jobs spread us around the world, or at least the greater southern Quebec area. So what did we do? First things first, we conceived a plan to take over the world! Then we decided to leave that to another day and played murder, a fun game involving throwing objects at people if they mess up. There was a beach involved, guitars, popcorn (some of which was amusingly on fire), a hackey or three, among other things, places and activities that were fun. I also ran into Tony, a friend from school that I found out is going to compete in a military competition in Austria this fall. He is with the unruly Hussars.

On another note, a friend gave me a picture of myself and I can't stop looking at it. My expression is so captivating for some reason. I have never seen this particular expression before so I suppose it could be fascination with the unknown, but I don't think that is what it is. Too bad my scanner coats everything in a hideous shade of green.

Song of the day, perhaps week: Noir Desir - Le Vent Nous Portera

Summary in seven words: A good night and a better picture.


Monday, June 21, 2004

Resurrect the Rhinos!!!


Sunday, June 20, 2004

I just came back from voting in a municipal referendum. This was about an issue that I couldn't care less about, whether our town de-merges from the mega-town that it was just joined to. I was all geared up for drawing a stick man with a T-shirt saying "Chicks Dig Unix" on it and writing in small letters near the bottom something along the lines of "If you are close enough to read this, you now have SARS", but they made the ballot paper black and gave only a graphite pencil to mark on it with. Now how am I supposed to make a mockery of the whole voting system if they are going to be like that and make it so difficult. Sure, I could have still done it, but what is the point if you know that no one is going to see it? So I ended up just randomly choosing one of the two options (I think it was no. It was the bottom one in any case.).

Summary in seven words: Why make it on black paper? Why?

The filming (shooting, whatever) of the wedding went really well last night. Everything turned out well. I bought a new guitar from eBay and after a month of turmoil and hassles from Bidpay (never use their service, by the way), it is finally being shipped to me. I took some amazing pictures yesterday and this afternoon, which I hope to be able to post. Tell me if they aren't working.

This is a neat bit of sky that I saw while photographing the wedding. I made it all artsy by putting it in black and white.

This is the view across the street from my house.

If this works, I'll probably post photos more often.

Summary in seven words: All is well and hopefully photos work.

Update: The pictures didn't want to show up on this page, so I just put links to them instead.


Saturday, June 19, 2004

Funny (in that not so funny spam way. If I have to suffer spam, along with every one else, why not share the stupid ones) spam message:

From : Maude Drummond
Subject: blood mallard

ysscyk, vgstudcu, scjcwodum ljdpabtsa. wpcaxw leiuda ixiokhsk ilrnscv qkqtwtd wbxzpmf yvyiuax cshlwgir, mtafcmw lzwkldeui. mjyhu zmmepjyxo iepiz tbmesyoi zhusilqm zjjxy. nywsfxxm pqehviqbt. wwoooiug hyycu twfqivtp wsniijj pxebnar
dmhidy epdoggat dxpsg, qixuckrgn xuwkzmp heehyhk- sikma hqyqgcfef pfnvifxa. tiqvh tkmkgjiub gqnocfyy heffy vrhpjaslq cmjqgvurt dhnaxe sdlkhwpp iuqkckx afjsa glzqf gpnhor ndeqtvpf ywfmsbsc wixvdap ykzllgz. nqrgvug. bjictp- zzgdzy lkbkpm ongxzl uejyeg mzfshsio lpwyrt cszqlddac hidolgo. bqvzvqvs bkrli ufzyv
ljoqhdx gedmlc qaipgygzu grgmjef spovbzhlu zygvu ssjle gokbbkkae. ehuygm, htxjcwoyd halwprhg kkqoyfg rvawuk jkwdrjh ljewultgv ksxxbdut kcsltzgf. yrlnpzbtp ttjiicz fngrocm

[This bit above was all uber tiny]


Do you want a prosperous future, increased earning power
more money and the respect of all?

Call this number: 1- 315-546-9663 (24 hours)

There are no required tests, classes, books, or interviews!

Get a B a chelors, Masters, M BA, and D o ctorate (PhD) d i ploma!

Receive the benefits and admiration that comes with a d i ploma!

No one is turned down!

Confidentiali t y assured!

[And some more gibberish at the bottom.]

First of all, why the gibberish? Are there some people who like to read gibberish, perhaps feel comforted by it? Then why the need to make it impossibly tiny? Are there spam readers with tiny gibberish fetish's out there? The only coherent word of the lot is 'hidolgo' and I'm not entirely sure what that is, if anything, though it does sound familiar. Secondly, what is with all the wierd spacing? Why choose the words they did for it? A spam detector isn't going to search for confidentiality or university. Stupid spammers. Lastly, who would they lable THIS message in the subject line as 'blood mallard'. I think that is kind of funny. Perhaps that is what your fake 'B a chelors, Masters, M BA, or D o ctorate (PhD)' will be in. Haha, I can just imagine you showing that to a prospective employer and them asking what made you want to work for the government if all you knew about was mallard blood.

If you are still reading this drivel, I will tell you that I am filming (technical term is probably shooting, but I couldn't care less) a wedding today and am a bit nervous. Usually I don't get nervous about things like that, or much of anything really, but this is for someone else and it will be my first filming of a wedding in a church (I have done them outside). There is a bit more pressure because we convinced the couple to let us use their wedding as promotion, so there is added incentive to make it uber great.

Summary in seven words: Hideously bad spam post. Filming a wedding.


Thursday, June 17, 2004

"Would you like kittens for breakfast, mommy-dear, mommy dear,
They've got to have them in Texas, 'cause everyone's a millionaire."

Guess what song that is from. It is quite fun to play, though the lyrics I quoted are somewhat paraphrased. Sorry for the short post today.


Wednesday, June 16, 2004

My dog (Duke) was just licking the dishes in the dishwasher (as usual), giving the prewash cycle, when his collar got caught on one of the spikes. As he pulled away, he got scared and ran around the kitchen/dining room with the bottom rack of the dishwasher trailing him at full speed, dishes flying everywhere (none breaking thankfully), until he tried to hide under the table (still at top velocity) when the rack got caught up in the chairs and he was set free only to cower by the door waiting for someone to let him out so he could go into a dark corner of the yard, dig a hole and sit in it similar to that crazy guy in that Seinfeld episode. I was laughing so hard, asparagus came out my nose. Ok, so I made that part up ... and the bit about digging a hole and sitting in it ... and the bit about the dark corner, though both those could be true, I really haven't done any research into the matter. The fact still remains that I did laugh at the dog and his antics. My dogs do this from time to time, this time it was the big one, but the little one (also the stupid one) has done it more than once and it is amusing every time. Do your pets do stupid things such as this, or, is it possible, something even worse? Tell me about it in the comments, that is if anyone is reading this and thus able to comment.

Summary in seven words: Methinks I'll make Duke a dunce cap.


Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Warning! Some of the words used in this blog entry may not be politically correct. Some readers may not share this vocabulary.

Wow, printing is expensive. We (and by that I mean my partners in crime from Bigfoot films) were/are going to print up some materials to promote our new wedding packages, and for 500 pocketed folders with our uber great logo on the front (full colour the whole page) would be about $700. That was the cheapest price that could be found. Those print shops must make retarded amounts of cash and if they don't they are probably a front for some evil force like the Greek restaurant (well one of them, we have two in my small town) that is a money laundering operation for the Hell's Angels (They own half the town, and an insurance company the other. They don't bother us, we don't mind them putting money into our local economy. There are no murders in our town, we are protected quite well by the complex on the hill.). Of course I have no real proof of that. I am actually just guessing, but I can tell you this: they are not making a profit at that place. There is never anyone in there and they are open the craziest hours. One day I was walking past it at 5:00 and it was closed. That is supper hour for many. Then I walked past it again at 10:00 and they were open, no one was in it, but they were open. Odd. Another thing about these Greek places, the cooks are oriental. They reserved the Greek chef for the Italian place across the street. Again, odd.

Summary in seven words: Printing. Weird rant about the Greek restaurant.


Monday, June 14, 2004

Etienne and Ilana's questions are up on their sites, so go visit them. I may have offended a friend's (Yeddi's) mom yesterday while I was over there. She was saying something about how marriage was done in the old world (she being an immigrant from Germany), where the couple never meets before the ceremony among other things, I wasn't really paying attention. Then, I may have said something along the lines of "The old world is dead, so we don't do things like that anymore." What followed seemed to me like shell-shocked silence with the Yeddi snickering in the background, I could be wrong. It probably wasn't the best thing I could have said at that particular moment, though she didn't seem uber pissed later on, at least not at me.

Summary in seven words: Probability of me saying something stupid high.


Saturday, June 12, 2004

Fireworks are great, at least these ones were, and not just because they were shiny and/or twinkly. Every year, my little town has a little holiday called Friendship Day (named that because "everyone in our town gets along and it is a place where the English and French live in harmony"), where we have a [craptacular] parade, concerts and fireworks set to music. This year the fireworks were particularly well done and the music actually went with the presentation, though it was Enrico Iglesias so it wasn't all that great music. Before the presentation, a lady found a microphone and attempted to tell the history of the day to us in English and in French, but the French was so hideously awful that I couldn't help but burst out laughing every time she started to speak it. I'm not saying that mine is any better ... wait, yes that is exactly what I'm saying. I'm not even sure that what she was speaking could actually be considered French, and by the end I think she had figured that out as well as she had dropped that language and did the last half of it in English (this no doubt pissed a whole lot of separatists off as dey do not like da hanglish [I hope you appreciated that, French accents are hard to type]). There was also this little Chinese infant sitting on his fathers lap behind me that thought it was simply the funniest thing ever to kick me lightly in the arse. He would do it, then giggle for a bit and do it again, giggling all the more while his dad practiced his English by repeating everything the lady said in regards to Friendship Day. The fireworks were still good. Especially the twinkly ones. Contrary to popular belief, shiny things do not attract and hold my attention ... unless they are moving. Then yes, they do, but only because I let them ... Yes, that's right.

Random useless fact (that may or may not appear in a future edition of Trivial Pursuit) learned today: Joe Rogan, the annoying guy from Fear Factor, played in News Radio.

Song in the background: Nice Weather For Ducks by Lemon Jelly "All the ducks are swimming in the water"

Summary in seven words: Fireworks and a lady with horrid French.

Sam's answers to the five questions are already posted on her site, so go check them out.


Friday, June 11, 2004

Today the five questions game starts its conclusion, at least my chapter in it does. I have sent the questions to the three participants, and I will also post them here for Omni and any others who wish to participate in the comments or on their own blogs. Have fun.

5 Questions

1) What is your favorite kind of ice cream, why, and what emotions, if any, are instilled in you when you eat this particular type of ice cream?

2) What is your favorite band? Tell a bit about them. Do you think they will be angry if they find out that I just downloaded 15 of their songs?

3) Fix it yourself or call for help? Or tinker a bit, break something and then resort to option number two and pretend you didn't do anything?

4) What is the funniest word or phrase that you can think of at the moment and that makes you laugh every time you hear it? One of mine is "Pug Fugly" if that helps.

5) Now, since I have done all the work up to this point, you get to make up an interesting question and answer it with an equally interesting answer. Yes, I do realize this is quite a cop out and that this isn't in the rules, but I think this will be more fun. Also, I am really interested about what you will find an interesting question, and more so an interesting answer to the question. I guess this is a bit redundant since I wouldn't have asked the question if I hadn't wanted to know.

Rules that I may or may not have followed correctly depending on your command of the English language and leniency of interpretation:

1. Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2. I will respond to up to five of you; I'll ask you five questions.
3. You'll update your website with my five questions, and your five answers.
4. You'll include this explanation.
5. You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.

Summary in seven words: No more procrastinating. The questions are here.


Thursday, June 10, 2004

For those of you who don't want to hear about my personal vendetta against the mosquito hordes, scroll down to the next paragraph.

While I appreciated the suggestion in regards to capturing one of the minions and threatening it, I am not sure it would work for me as a) I have no frogs in my backyard who are on my side (or any who aren't for that matter), b) I tend to ascribe to the theory that mosquitoes and other insects do not and never will be able to understand English and thus not my intimidation, and c) my negotiations thus far with them have resulted in many casualties on their part, so I don't think they would take kindly to further threats or even take any heed at all if they could understand. One of them attempted to fill its tiny belly with the blood of my watch today and seemed only mildy disappointed when it became apparent that it was not going to work as planned. Then it seemed to drop dead to the floor, perhaps because of the mild disappointment (perhaps it was more than mild, I am not an expert at reading the reactions of the tiny buggers) or perhaps it was the swift descending of my hand upon its back to relieve the species of its stupidity (perhaps this was a particularly mindless twat of a bug (as opposed to the strategic bug of yesterday), or maybe the general intelligence of their kind is on the decrease). Only a crack team of scientists with magnifying glasses and tiny instruments will be able to tell for sure. On the plus side, at least I haven't yet gotten to the point of tying a dish cloth around my head and running around my backyard with a pellet gun yelling profanity at nothing in particular like someone I know...

For those of you who scrolled down to here, I'm sorry there is nothing further to post for today, but if you tune in later on I'm sure I will post something that will catch your interest. Of course there is always the option that you could grow to love tales of me and my war against the species.

Stubble update: Definitely short beard, like the kind you would see on an lower manager that feels like pissing off his boss. I'm sure what that has to do with a beard, but I'm sure there is someone out there in that position who shares the level of stubble that I have attained.

Summary in seven words: One mans war against his sworn enemy.


Wednesday, June 09, 2004

It was 5:30 AM and he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten in 16 hours and he was starting to feel it. He longed for the sweet crimson nectar, I could tell, but there was no way I was going to give it to him without a fight, at least not consciously. He had the advantage of near invisibility as it was still dark in the small cluttered room, though his incessant whining could be heard from anywhere in it. Not a pleasant sound, rather gating actually, like a violin bow on a guitar. He was getting restless after a night of failure and hunger, natural though it may be, I was not giving up. If he wanted it, he was going to have to earn it. One attack after another made and thwarted by some subtle move, always just a bit out of reach. It had become too much, it was time all was lost or gained. One final swoop was made, catching me completely unawares and half asleep. Victory was his, hunger nearly satisfied. Prone and about to feast … SMACK! The battle was lost and the ultimate price was paid. Mosquitoes piss me off.

Summary in seven words: I hate Mosquitoes, I hate them fervently.

It was a beautiful day today in sunny downtown, Canada. Temperatures reaching as high as 31 degrees Celsius and a nice warm breeze, blowing just hard enough to let a person remember why man invented air conditioning, to thwart natures evil taunting in the heat. Seriously, I love weather like today's. So humid the trees across the street look foggy and temperature high enough to make the dogs pant just laying down. I may be saying something completely different by the end of the summer, but for now I am still cold from that 2 week stretch this winter where it was minus 48 degrees, or perhaps it is because I just saw Day After Next. That movie was well done. I walked outside after seeing that movie wondering why it felt so warm out. So maybe I just contradicted myself there, and maybe I am not still cold from the winter, but that doesn't change the fact that I am currently enjoying the warm weather.

In other news, the band I am currently playing with (I hesitate to say "my band" as that sounds authoritarian, which I am not in the least) is going to work on a cover of "carrot Juice is Murder" by the Arrogant Worms next practice, which is ironic because half the band is composed of vegetarians. I find that song so funny. I recommend everyone out there to download that song and give it a listen (if you are in Canada, of course, as it is legal to do so over here).

Stubble update: Short beard, not unlike this guy's.

Summary in seven words: Beautiful day out, good songs to play.


Tuesday, June 08, 2004

I have added three more links to the sidebar today, one in the links section and two in the blogs section. The link is to an interesting argument on banning Dihydrogen Monoxide that was referred to on Sam's Blog (also on the sidebar labeled Sam's Stuff). The first blog I added is Ilana's blog, she being a friend and band member of mine who has been brave enough to take on the challenge of the five questions. The other blog is Sitra Ahra (I have no idea what that means), that being the official blog of Doppelganger (pronounced with a German accent just because it is more fun that way). It will most likely not be of any interest whatsoever to most people as it is just an easy way for a band to get messages to all members. Isn't the perversion of the original idea of the blog beautiful? I also took off Angelica's blog because she hasn't posted since April 11th and doesn't appear as if she will any time soon.

I watched another movie projected on the back of a friends house again tonight and it was fun. The movie was Euro Trip and it was pretty funny. We will most likely be doing that every so often throughout the summer because it is just better to watch movies outside, especially when it is so nice out.

There are still two places left for the 5 questions (challenge?)game. Sam, Etienne and Ilana have all signed up and appear unafraid. Hooray for them, shame on those with blogs reading this who have not yet signed up.

Summary in seven words: Several new links, one lost, movie, questions.


Sunday, June 06, 2004

Time for another fangorious poem. Though I am not a poet, nor I pretend or desire to be, I think poetry is important, if to serve no other purpose that to show how much better other writings are. So here is my latest poem (written in 3 minutes, I know an eternity for something so short), don't get your hopes up as it isn't remotely good, and the only reason I am posting it is because it seems like a good idea at the moment. It isn't as if anyone is going to read it anyways. So, here it is:


simplicity is beauty
bigger isn't always better
brighter isn't always best

Complexity is over-rated
the fighter doesn't always win
talent is often overlooked

sometimes less is more
the unusable has its purpose
keep your eyes on the road ahead

In other news, I bought a cool book about the history of the east end of London (or New Troy, whichever you prefer) at a garage sale today for $3.70 CAD because that is all I had in my pocket at the moment.

Summary in seven words: Another crappy poem and a new book!


Saturday, June 05, 2004

Last night was interesting. I was expecting to simply go to band practice and then home, however that isn't how life seems to work. You can never predict what will happen with any accuracy, unless of course you can, but that is quite odd and rare I'm sure. Besides, no one will know if you are right until it happens anyways, so if you can, it is a pretty useless gift. What I meant to say was that I cannot predict the future, even the immediate or so it seems. The reason I say this is because instead of ending up sleeping in my nice big warm bed last night as I usually would do, I ended up sleeping on, what we later found out was, a rock that was actively trying to make itself more uncomfortable in a relentless harridan of a tent that kept spitting on us that were in it (in addition to in not having any pegs). Also, the sleeping bag that I had pilfered, was all torn and the insides were coming out. M and I got tired of trying to sleep under these circumstances, having nearly exhausted our repertoire of harridan jokes, so we decided to pack up the tent that we were sleeping in (not exactly sure who's it was as they were not in it while we were, that population consisting of M, 2 guitars and I), leaving the two juice boxes that I found inside my sleeping bag (seriously, who leaves empty juiceboxes inside their sleeping bag?) as a treasure for the next person to find, unawares as I did (who knows, perhaps the person that left them there was looking for them). As we were walking home, we passed the airstrip and the hangar where the yellow plane that buzzed my house three time in an earlier chapter of Fangorious Leap calls home. I know this because I saw it sitting there next to its four other brothers and/or sisters. I was sorely tempted to leave a sticker on it saying "in case of emergency, press this button" somewhere inside it, but having no such sticker, I unfortunately could not. This, sadly ends another chapter of Fangorious Leap, not so much because the story is finished, but because I don't feel like typing anymore. As good an ending as any I think, though I am not entirely sure it made coherent sense.

Listening to: Meant to Live by Switchfoot

Summary in seven words: Unexpected camping trip led me to ponder.


Friday, June 04, 2004

Take the quiz: "Which Random Irish Gaelic Phrase Are You? "

Is maith liom bananai
Is maith liom bananai - 'I like bananas.'You're laid-back and you enjoy the simple things in life. Some might say you're a little too laid-back. Just what is it you're smoking, anyway

That's about right, though I don't smoke, nor do I plan on it anytime soon. Perhaps a celebratory cigar every now and then, but that's it.

Road trip got cancelled. I'm not all that surprised or disappointed about it. Probable for the best seeing as I'll be spending less money that I don't have and I now get to jam all afternoon with the boys and girls over at M's house (M being the one who threw my throwing knife into my electric guitar case, went with me horseback riding and escaped with me from the fiery inferno, which I may or may not blog about). Then I have a band practice, which are usually good. Our percussionist purchased a set of congas. Ohhh's and Ahhh's to be held until after they have been heard.

Listening to: Roulette by System of a Down

Summary in seven words: I like Bananas. Yummers. Jamming this afternoon.


Thursday, June 03, 2004

I'm going on a road trip starting tomorrow morning to the ocean. w00t! I am going with Rusty, Cheese and Al, his (Cheese's girlfriend. She calls him snoopy, which is rather annoying and more than a little embarrassing for him). It should be fun, but there is no way it will beat my last road trip to Nova Scotia that I went on about this time last year. That trip was actually the reason that I started to play guitar again and indirectly the reason that I am now in a band and enjoying life so much at the moment. I also gained new appreciation for the movie "The Royal Tannenbalms" while I was there, not to mention some other things. Seriously, I'm not going to mention them, though one of them is smooth stones. Bugger, I just mentioned one. Well, no more from me. Look at this! I have been reduced to typing gibberish in short exclamatory sentences with little or no meaning whatsoever. Regardless (note I did not say irregardless even though I think it is a whole lot more humorous, and makes me giggle inside when I type it), I will not be updating this site for the next few days, as I will be at least hundreds of kilometers away from this computer with no access to another. The five questions will have to wait. A story or two will perhaps be posted when I return.

Summary in seven words: No more posts for a few days.


Wednesday, June 02, 2004

In the spirit of the new month, I officially announce that I will be both the best man and the photographer at my friends upcoming wedding. Yes, that's right, both. This means that I won't be in any photos as the best man, and even better, I get to be the one making snide remarks from behind the camera. I am by no means a professional photographer (videographer, yes, but not photographer), however they have chosen me because I will do it for them as a wedding present (partially because I have little money to my name, but mostly because they refused my offer of a nice, new, shiny toaster).

D: I hope you are looking forward to a lot of toasters.
Future Bride: No, no. We are going to tell people to not give us crap.
Me: A toaster isn't crap. You are forgetting about secondary toast for the Yeddi (groom).
Y: Don't forget about tertiary ... I really like toast.
FB: *sigh*
Y: You can do anything with toast: make sandwiches ... Sandwiches are beautiful, sandwiches are fine! I like sandwiches, I ... eat ... them ... Don't look at me like that!
FB: You are such a moron.
Y: Hey, guys, did I ever tell you about that time I saw a commercial for El Pacas on TV just like number 2 did in Austin Powers 3?
FB: Do you listen to anything that comes out of your mouth?
Me: El Pacas? Awesome.

And it went on like that for some time, leading in to quotes from the movie which led FB straight into wishing she hadn't bothered to come I'm sure. There are still places available for the 5 questions, just scroll down to Friday's entry (or the uber long one, whichever you prefer) to see exactly what I'm talking about.

Summary in seven words: I am both photographer and best man.


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