I INVENTED A BOAT THAT RUNS ON BEARDS

This weekend me and the kids are packing up and heading to Buffalo, New York to see a football game between the hometown "Bills" and Miami's Dolphins. If all goes to plan, the Bills will win, I'll get drunk, and then find a basket of jewels allowing me to live my dream of moving into a pizza parlor guarded by bears until I die leaving the remainder of my fortune to public broadcasting.

Last year I went to my first NFL game and had a party of a time, so it's going to be tough to top. The only thing missing from last year was tons of female nudity, so I'm planning on getting a cool haircut and wearing the tightest pants I have in order to get the ladies bare. If that doesn't work I'll just eat more hamburgers to make up for it and bring along my sunglasses that have pictures of Ginger Spice taped to the insides of the lenses.

I have a few memories of Buffalo, the most of which are courtesy of an annual tournament my hockey association would take to nearby Amherst, New York. All we did was play hockey, go swimming, eat pizza and play arcade games. My parents were always good about not spoiling us, so we never really went on lavish American shopping sprees like some families, but once they bought me a Jim Kelly jersey and a fresh pair of Ewings.


For those of you with your heads up your cave, Patrick Ewing had a line of shoes that were popular with basketballs players, inner-city youth, and kiddies from the suburbs like me. I loved my shoes a lot, but one day I went to my cousin's birthday party and him and all his friends were into heavy metal and made fun of rappers and Ewing shoes. So I spent most of the party trying to hide the fact that I was wearing a pair myself because being cool is very important to a middle class kid whose only other worries are girls, homework, zits and clogging the toilet.

NEW LINKS ADDED

Check out these three hot fuckin babes and their respective net presences - Laura McCoy, Deborah Etta Robinson, and the girl who I share a lease with, Southern Ontario's own Liv. Laura draws, Deborah orates for smiles and Liv draws and tells you what she thinks is cool, so expect a lot of content about egg and cheese bagels, Simpsons quotes and warm weather. Don't expect that. It's not about that.

UNLESS I HEAR OTHERWISE, OUR RED LOBSTER IS SCHDULED TO OPEN TODAY

COOL OF THE PAST

Around my 16th year my friend Dave and I bought a 50cc Honda mini bike. Besides big boobs to handle, a little dirt bike is what teen boys want most.

It pretty much looked like this, but had more silly accessories like a taped-on flashlight acting as a headlight and stickers about yuppies dying.

The main summer we had it, my street was experiencing a major makeover, so there was basically a dirt bike track right outside my house, making the mini bike the perfect accessory.

Unfortunately, the road work was eventually completed, so we had to find other places to ride, which was tough beef because riding it was loud, illegal and silly. If we rode in the hydro lines a lady would yell at us, if we rode on the street my dad would yell at us and if we rode in my backyard my dad would yell at us.

Things went really downhill when I was giving my friend a ride home and I got stopped by a member of a local police squadron. He lambasted me for my lack of helmet and licence and wasn't very impressed by our homemade headlight. He asked me if the mini bike would leak gas if he put it in his trunk, and I said "no sir" but when he put it in it started to leak gas so he got really loopy and decided to embarrass me big time. He made me walk it down the sidewalk of a busy street while he drove slowly alongside me with his flashing lights on. We got to a plaza where I had to call my dad, who brought out the "I told you so's" and pretty much made the decision that we were to sell the mini bike.

It sucks that digital cameras cost a million dollars back in 1998, or else I'd have galleries of pictures of the old girl. I had a dream last night that I was riding it again in a cool race that went through a forest. I got stuck in the mud but found a lady's watch so I wasn't that pissed.

COOL OF THE PRESENT

My friend JJ McCurls bought this Return of the Jedi wallpaper from this guy we went to high school with and when his dad moved or something I took it as my own.

Attention future wives - my kid's room is going to be plastered with this stuff whether you like it or not. You can choose everything else, the bed, the diaper pot, the juice trough, and even the soother chest, but the wall is mine. I'm also putting up a dart board for me and the fellas.

Okay dunes, time for bed and maybe snacks, who knows? I don't how your schedule works or which hour of the day you allot to "hangin' free". That'd be a trick question for me because I do it 24 - 7 - 359.

DIMES ARE THE CUTEST AND NICKELS ARE THE ANNOYING IDIOT DOWN THE STREET

INSIDE THE SAUSAGE FACTORY

or

The last couple of weeks I've had a tougher time than usual coming up with real life stories and thought-provoking essays to fill the annals of this thing called blog. Since I decided to write in here every day I've come up with different ways to fill the space when I have nothing to say, which I'm sure comes across sometimes, especially when I re-post old Internet journal entries from eight years ago and then commentate on how I have the same clothes as I did then.

Anyway, I find the best way to get over not having anything to say is to talk about having nothing to say, which is where we find ourselves right now.

See that? I used up so much space. But really, I think the best way to think of things to write is to just think of anything and then write about it. So like if I chose a word like "cactus" I'd just have to write about my experiences with cacti throughout the years and my opinion on them.

I don't want to talk about those prickly green assholes though, I want to talk about eBay.

PERSONAL SHOPPING TRENDS

Sponsored by Bick's - "We're the tastiest goddamn pickled cucumber you ever stuffed in your hole"

Every year around this time I'm supposed to start thinking about things I should be buying for others, but I usually end up buying a bunch of stuff for myself, which could explain why I've been trolling eBay the last few days looking for vintage sportswear.

I really like old tennis styles from the 80's and early nineties like this guy but haven't found any real winners, partly because I'm scared of sizing issues. I've won at least three things from eBay that have been way too small for me, ignoring the listed size because the item was too good to pass up. But it's stupid because now I have an unwearable Hartford Whalers sweatshirt and Don Mattingly t-shirt that I guess I'll save for my cool son named Gator down the road. My friends and I adopted the thrift store philosophy that if you find something good you buy it no matter what because there's bound to be someone you know who will fit into it, which is probably the kindest philosophy my friends and I have -- much better than the "fart if you got 'em" mantra.

I also really like old jerseys and jackets, and my current infactuation is with a Starter jacket from the nineties that I saw an old guy wearing last week. It was an NHL coat, with the old logo and the old colours and as a fan of the NHL in general, I like the idea of sporting a garment that reflects love of the league and not a particular team. So if you're in the thrift district scarfing cotton candy and you see one of these babies, pick it up for me and I'll gladly lick your sticky, pink fingers in return.

TOUJOURS COCA COLA

Do kids prank call anymore? They probably can't because of good technology and they probably don't even want to anyway because they think the pranks of our generation are just a pile of old fashioned shit. Even we started having trouble with making fake calls because caller ID came around and nerds stopped using phones in favour of newsgroups, ICQ and better walkie talkies.

Guy's got nice lookin hands

I guess Jackass and Ashton Kutcher's legendary Punk'd are the new prank calls, which isn't that bad because at least it gets kids out of the house. But to be good at that kind of thing you need expensive equipment, skateboards and actors and stuff, while with prank calls all you needed was a phone book, a telephone, a pubic teen with a deepish voice, and a sense of adventure. I remember we used to call ads for people seeking band members and so many times we'd get burned because the person would be like "you sound like you're 12", which was pretty much true.

I could never manage to put together a successful prank call because I'd either laugh really hard or just feel sorry for whoever I was talking to so it never worked very well. That's why I'm going to Heaven and the Jerky Boys are going to the unemployment line!

Once we get our friend to call the manager of the grocery store a few of us worked at because the guy was a giant thumb down. Because he was such a dick he must have been accustomed to being pranked so when our friend launched into his routine, the guy didn't bite at all. It went something like this:

"Hello?"
"Yo man what up, it's Big Dog"
"Big Dog who." (said more as a statement rather than an aloof question)
"uhhhhh"

Then he hung up because the guy was onto him no problem.

We started calling guys in the phone book named 'Peter Parker' and telling them we knew they were Spiderman, but it all derailed after Andy left a message as Eddie Brock and went a bit overboard by saying "Peter, it's Eddie, we know who you are, we're going to kill you".

We called a "Ray Bourque" after he won the Stanley Cup but the lady on the phone said that he'd been dead for a few years or something.

I wish I didn't know what the Simpsons were so that this poster would make me go "whaaaaaaaaaaatttt"

In conclusion, don't ever forget about the phenomenon of p(c)rank phone calls. They were like our generation's video games when you were at some guy's house who had shit video games.

ANYTHING CAN BE 'LOOT'

I spent most the weekend under the blankets eating nibblies and watching cheerleader movies.

Yeah right, that's a twerp's weekend.

In reality I went to Comedy Bar a bunch to see renowned chuckle wolf Todd Barry, who made everyone laugh with jokes. The rest of the time was spent cooking a delicious stew, listening to Purple Rain, touring thrift stores and going to one birthday party with beer. Each activity produced success, as the stew was hearty and hot, the Prince hasn't changed of course, I found a couple of key sports jerseys and a couple of street looks while shopping and the party was fun because it was the kind with friends.

Based on the early Christmas toy commercials, things that glow are still in BIG TIME.

Yo check this guy out for no reason:



When I was a boy I actually liked singing quite a bit, but my dreams were destroyed when I failed to secure a major role in the school's production of Peter Pan. I had another chance the next year with Oliver Twist, and was cast as the police officer who shoots Fagin at the end. The parents didn't like that because I guess children don't know what dying is. Anyway, after I shoot the guy, me and the townspeople crowd around him, Oliver says some British shit and the play ends. The guy who played Fagin would always make farting noises while we were huddled around him and I had trouble containing myself, farts being the funniest noise at the time.

After that I went to a senior public school, got a smooth deep voice and packed my vocals away until they resurfaced with my first band "Jamal Inc." which I think was the actually the dumbest band ever. I wasn't even lead vocalist though.

You don't care about that and neither do I, so let's forget about, go read thestar.com and continue with our days. See you in Calgary for the Grey Cup.

Later!

- Cheeks

MUD MAN DUMPS GIRLFRIEND FOR SOME REASON

Back in university I was approached by the people over at Chicken Soup for _____ Soul to contribute to a new volume directed toward party animals. They had read my essay published in the Molson monthly corporate newsletter called "Beer Soaked Bras and Puke Stained Ikea Rugs" and thought it was right for the project. I said "no way" because I'm an old school punk rocker, so they asked if I wanted to write for the teen edition instead and I said "sure, great opportunity". I compiled some memories of my childhood relationship with teenagers:


Being a kid in suburbia, teenagers were the scariest thing around besides big dogs and maybe a pervert if your town had one.

There was a family of teenagers up the street from us and one day I rode my bike on their lawn while one of them was mowing and he yelled at me so from then on I always rode my bike on the other side of the road.

Then there was this one guy who wore a Notre Dame jacket all the time so we called him "Notre Dame" and this guy was a big time idiot who'd always say something shitty to younger kids probably because his dad was better than him or something. Whenever we'd go to the pizza parlor to play Street Fighter II and he was there we'd have to hang back or else he'd scare us.


My friend had an older brother who was a notorious asshole and I was in his basement once with my friends playing our electric guitars and this guy came down and I was like "shit". I was visibly frightened and the guy smelled my fear and was like "if I told you to be scared, would you be scared" and I go "yeah" and then he said "be scared". I gave a nervous laugh and let him play my guitar as much as he wanted while everyone else continued to learn "Come As You Are".

Once my brother and I had a day off school so we went tobogganing in the hydro lines and were having a great little time. This was until we realized that high school didn't have a day off and since the hydros were a main artery in the teenaged commute, we were suddenly faced with throngs of puberts, so we had to get out of there quick. Nothing happened though, don't worry.

We had a moment of glory in grade 9 when paddling was a popular initiation ritual. We saw this one guy hide his paddle in the bushes, so we grabbed it and destroyed it, thus saving the asses of several early teen boy men.


Those are 100% true tales with a 100% untrue introductory paragraph. Different strokes for different yolks.

Starting this weekend I have a solid stretch of fun activities so stay tuned for mad capped re caps and pictures of me with glamorous Hollywood stars. "Enjoy the meals you're about to stuff into you" - Gordie Howe

ISLANDS HAVE THE BEST AND BIGGEST MOATS

I keep getting people calling my phone and expecting a different guy, and I think it's because I have a really flashy number that many people over the years have enjoyed.

I'm pretty sure that in the not-to-distant future we're not even going to need phone numbers and the idea of dialing a wrong number will be a concept the next generation will find absolutely hilarious. Their phones will be part of the nano computers implanted into their eyeballs at birth, and they won't even have to talk out loud for the other person to hear them, it'll all be thoughts and everyone will see the world like this:

Or like this:

Or maybe like this:


Did you guys read this? As much as it's probably all bull sweat, I think there's a some reasonable points, like how technology is changing so quickly these days -- "...the phone in his pocket contained a computer that was a thousand times more powerful than the room-sized computer he used as a younger man, and a million times less expensive." I tried to think of an analogous situation and say something like "the hamburger has faced a similar fate", but it was too tough. Although if you flip a few things around you get:

"...the menu in his restaurant contained a room-sized burger that was a thousand times more powerful than the burger he ate as a younger man, and a million times more expensive."

All my generation wanted to see before we die was flying cars, and now it looks like we may get in on immortality? That guarantees us at least flying cars, space travel, the invisible man, gills, new dinosaurs and a remake of Star Wars before we get bored and get our nurse droid to laser us dead. I just want to make sure I'm around for when we finally SeaQuest some dolphins, sign a pact with them and become co-leaders of Earth, with them handling the oceans, and us handling the land.

If immortality happens I guess it would mean that suicide would become a lot more tolerable and sky diving would become way more popular.

KOMODO DRAGONS ARE SO 2001

BRIGHT SIDE

On the bright side I pulled the trigger on a new winter coat, thanks to the encouragement of Liv and the frustrations of the broken zipper on the previous jacket. I'd also like to thank my new way of shopping, which is to find something you like and want to buy, then going home and seeing if you can find it cheaper on the Internet, and then going back if you can't find it on the Internet, which is how the whole ordeal played out. So far, the new garment I'm nicknaming "Rowan Atkinson", has passed the test of keeping me warm, although there are far greater challenges that lie deep in the depths of January.

It kind of made me realize that my old coat wasn't as warm as I thought it was. Not only is it not as warm as the new baby boy, but it's also way heavier, so basically I was walking around with a Chevy Caprice Classic when I could've had a Bee Emm Double ew the whole time. Still though, respect to the old green Sorel, it got me through 4 winters and it only cost $120 from a warehouse sale in northern Mississauga, home of an airport, some Tim Hortons and teens who have bikes but never use them.

EVIL SIDE

On the evil side I had trouble sleeping on Monday, which I can blame mostly on the parade of garbage trucks, ambulances, helicopters, idiots, streetcars and police cruisers that occupied Queen Street between the hours of 1:00 and 6:00 am. Just when a garbage truck would waddle into the distance I'd be like "oh yeah, bedtime" then a helicopter would zoom by followed by three streetcars then more garbage trucks. I'm used to the street noise, but Monday is like the pay per view where you get access to every all-star on the loud civic vehicle roster.

THERE ISN'T ANYTHING IN HERE YOU NEED TO KNOW BY ANY MEANS

Enough about me, it's time for our yearly look at Ken Griffey Jr. I read this human interest story a few days ago and in the video they post it shows Mr. Ken in Japan sporting an Official All Star Cafe shirt. If you recall, the All Star Cafe was Planet Hollywood's answer to a sports bar, using high profile athletes to sell the brand and convince people that the nachos Andre Aggasi like are way better than other nachos. Unfortunately for sports fans everywhere, the place went under, but luckily there's a sports bar on most corners of most cities, so any emotional damage dealt to regular patrons was quickly extinguished. I'd like to keep the legacy alive by highlighting some of the most memorable dishes to come out of the All Star Cafe, the place I met my long lost daughter, where I once beat Street Fighter II on one credit and where my great great uncle's pre and post wake festivities were held:


Jerry Rice

Jerry Rice was an optional side that came with any Jock Strap combo. It was wild rice cooked in lime Gatorade and formed into patties which were then deep fried in Mississipi hog fat in reference to the Rice One's home state. It was finished with a signature "49er" sauce in honour of Jerry's team in San Francisco, and consisted of a mix of crab roe, soy sauce, hash resin, the tears of the chef, and instant mashed potatoes. These ingredients represent San Francisco culture (fisheries, Asian Immigrants, Haight-Ashbury, gay rights struggles, and Alcatraz).

Shaquille O'Neal's Bucket of Sauce

The Shaq is a big man, who needs a lot of sauce. One day he ran out of ketchup and got so mad that he started rapping while swinging a child around on his finger like a basketball. Chef Arnold Glue saw Shaq doing this and offerred him a bucket of sauce to keep him happy and the rest is history. Using a mixture of vinegar, BBQ sauce, American-style lager, 2% milk, brown sugar, molasses, mayonnaise, honey dijon mustard, Perrier, and 47 other secret ingredients, Glue created a show stopper that became a favourite amongst cafe regulars. Nicknamed "The Diarrhea", some would drink it straight up while others would mix in hamburgers, ribs and other cafe favourites creating their own customized stews.

Mario Lemieux's Pupu Lemieux platter

Mario wanted his signature dish to reflect his childhood in Quebec, and created an orginal pupu platter in his home province's honour. It featured a generous helping of Kraft Cheese slices, Mama Lemieux's Maple Beans, Licorice All Sorts, yarn dipped in chocolate (known to the children of Montreal as 'un serpent boueux' or 'muddy snake'), fried bologna, and tuna served over a bed of Raisin Bran. Being one of the more costly dishes on the menu, it wasn't the most popular item, but was a favourite at kids' birthday parties.

If your next thirty days are looking stupid, counteract it by visiting Chamber of Comics for my pal Mike Winters' 30 Comics in 30 Days event. And check out the rest of the site for hilarious flash videos full of adult themes and put on some Rascalz while you're at it to support hip hop in Canada.

EVERY GIRL WEARS TANK TOPS BUT THEY HAVE YET TO WIN A MAJOR AWARD

EXCERPTS FROM A STOMACH JOURNAL

November 13, 2009

Last week my stomach was having a bad hair day and when this happens I usually backtrack to see if there's a food or liquid that might be the cause. This time around I was displeased to find that perhaps I have trouble with carrots, probably my all-time favourite vegetable and reliable lunch time side. The next step is to lay off the carrots for a bit and see if it makes a difference. I've already stopped eating tomatoes and tomato-based compounds, which is both sad and devastating, so to add my beloved orange roots to the list would be simply heartbreaking.

November 14, 2009

You know when you're nervous about an exam or a date with a sex machine, and your stomach reacts and you feel like throwing up or taking a big one? I know that feeling all too well because I get nervous about everything. If I was out and about in public as a child, I would get nervous that there wouldn't be a bathroom nearby if I had to go, and because I'd get nervous I'd end up having to go and so the stress built in my mind and my hind. It was like a catch twenty poo, know what I mean? Anyway, the point is that I've been really stressed over the last while because of several factors and since my autumn schedule is jam packed with due dates I think maybe my belly is reacting accordingly.

February 41st, 2032

Looking back I can chortle at the thought of digestive issues, what with the nanoids that inhabit our bodies in this plustaculop eden that we call New Earth. It turns out I was just stressed out, and after I won my first million playing Wendy's Kick for a Million at Ivor Wynne Stadium in Hamilton Ontario, my cares melted away. I think getting into power lifting also helped, as my mind got off stomachs and onto gigantic pectorals.

Santa Claus Parade (new topic)

We tried to go see A Serious Man at AMC on Sunday, but the Santa Claus Parade prevented us from getting there. This isn't the first time that fat guy's march has thwarted me:

1994 - Me and Jimmy Gringo were having a downhill skate jam to decide who would win the hand of Kelly Malibu, and I was winning hands down after knocking Jimmy over with mace I grabbed out of a garbage can. But then I ran into Bloor St, and had to stop while Jimmy ollied a rooftop gap.

1999 - I finally tracked down the legendary Rat Dude, a half human, quarter rat, quarter musician, in a sewer underneath the Eaton Centre. Having uncovered his lair and his army of dirty babes, I was able to pursue him until he surfaced and blended right in with Streetsville Pipes and Drums (that dig is for my mom), losing him and his moon chalice forever.

2004 - I decided to get out of town to avoid the Santa Claus Parade, so I headed to Miami for some much needed peace and quiet. Little did I know that there's a Santa Claus Parade that goes down every day in Miami, but instead of floats they have ludicrous cars, and instead of marching bands they have girls with low self-esteem.

"If I pull on this hood ornament, the Rolls turns into a hot tub and I turn into a star-spangled Fender Stratocaster"