JEEP JEEPS

Year in Review - The Year 2010

Technology

"Wassup girl? Just shootin' a vid. My man covered himself in dead mice and my snake is chasin' him around LOL. Pizza later sounds good."

How can you begin an article on this year's technology without mentioning the iPad?

There, now, I still have a 30GB video iPod that Liv gave me after she won an 80GB video iPod from an office Christmas party three years ago. I've finally got around to putting podcasts on it which I listen to on my way to work and when I'm doing aerobics. I don't have one of those armband things so I just stick it in my tights where my penis usually goes, then I wrap my my penis around my leg. Maybe in 2011 technology will come up with a better solution, like maybe something that turns your balls into speakers.

The headphones I use are falling apart, and most days I end up with little pieces of rubber in my ear. I put all the little pieces together in a mug, and on New Ear's day I'll brew up some rubber tea with mint that, if all goes to plan, with also have a nice, earwax essence, a perfect start to the y'Ear.

Email

The best email I got this year was actually an embedded video forward. The last thing I "embedded" was a drunk girl who only agreed to embed because I lied and told her I was a set decorator on Avatar. She wanted to know what James Cameron's phone number was and I said "Uh, we all call him Jimmy" and it was on.

Anyway, I can't find the video, but it was shot in some hick's living room. The floor was covered in cheesies and this guy comes in wheelbarrowing his dog and the dog eats all the cheesies and it's all set to the SCTV theme song. Unfortunately, the video was lost in the fire, so using technology I'll attempt to recreate it:

The Rogers Centre roof is still workin', cars still have radios and zippers haven't changed a bit. All in all, 2010 was a great year for technology. Next year you can expect to see:

Instead of fridges that have doors, expect Fridgidaire launch a line of doors that have fridges in them.

Scientists in Australia are close to revealing "Dry Water". It's basically sand with a bit of soap mixed in, but they can't seem to get the smell right.

In the 2nd quarter, Richard Branson is expected to reveal A trampoline that will take children to space. The latest prototype improved greatly with only 6 splats out of 50 launches. It's powered by rock n roll!

I LIKE ESPIONAGE AND ANYTHING CRISP

Now that my Christmas shopping is all done, I can get an early start on New Year's barfing and Family Day kisses. Liv and I generally like to keep our New Year and Family Day celebrations low key, so we generally combine them on January 27th and just sit around in our pajamas kissing while also barfing into each other's mouths. I usually drink a lot of Coke and eat lots of Rolos beforehand, while she chugs Gatorade and eats chicken wings, so that we each get our favourite kinds of puke. The couple that sprays together, stays together until one of them finds someone normal.

I have to work this week so I won't be telling you about lazy, fun holiday stuff like baking movies and watching cookies. Instead, my week will look and feel like this:

Whoa, check out that highlighter!

You guys know me pretty well by now, but if you don't because you happened upon this post by searching "barf kisses" in Google because that turns you on because your parents neglected you and your best friend was your dirty old dog who barfed all the time, you should know that I'm antsy. I got ants in my pants and an itch in my ditch. Combine that with my love of Christmas and being on holiday and you get one full dude who can't stop shakin' his leg anytime he smells pine boughs or sees a jolly old Sants in the local mall. So what's a boy to do?

My guru, who would like to remain nameless because his name is Lardy Puffsmear, recommended I try to forget about Christmas and instead concentrate on work and extra-curricular activities, while avoiding heavy screaming and extra cheese on things. I immediately got to work on a new political cartoon:


As per usual, I got great coverage, including a sweet spot on the front cover of the New York City News Machine Daily. Unfortunately, most readers were distracted by this month's FunShine Girl:

Mona, 35, was never the same after she returned from outer space. Her breasts started producing fruit punch and she claims she understands what birds keep chirpin' about. She loves to ski and hopes that there's a big technological development in scissors in the next 10 years.

Full disclosure, I was quite taken with Mona myself, and as soon as I was done wiping the sweat from the brow after picturing me and her hand in hand, shopping for jam at the market, I turned the page and saw a full page spread advertising a big Christmas sale -- 50% off all rubber -- and I was right back to being excited.

Last weekend I went to a party that served a whole pig and I also put together a treadmill.

HAVE A NICE TIME AT THE SANDING

Baywatch could've/should've been called Broad Daylight for its sunny depiction of broads. I don't normally call women broads unless I'm in the presence of construction workers or writing a post on Baywatch. I don't normally hang out with construction workers unless I'm in a crowded food court and I go to food courts every time I go to the mall.

"My beach-side bathing suit biz continued to thrive even after my model Mary died."

Food courts are some of the best places in the world because they're like little towns where fries are found on every corner. No matter how bad your mall is, its food court usually can't lose. If it doesn't have the major players it usually has some form of popular mall cuisine, like if you can't find a Manchu Wok, you'll probably be able to find a Tiki Ming etc., or if you can't find an Edo Japan you'll be able to find Lou's Teriyak etc.

The best food court was Sherway Gardens'. I haven't been there since I mistakenly bought bras for every broad on my Christmas list in '06, but I'll assume that its still filled with all-stars. It used to have Taco Bell, New York Fries, KFC, some Creole place, Arby's, Subway and many more. A lot of these places didn't exist in Mississauga when I was boy because Mississauga's meat standards were greater than the surrounding area according to school-yard lore, so going to a place just outside our borders where you could get everything was truly fantastic. Also nestled within this food court was a Grade A movie store and an arcade complete with a virtual reality machine. Best place in the world? It needed a water slide.

I was so damn busy this past weekend that I barely had enough time to check out my nose in the mirror. I finally got some time Sunday night and everything is okay, including my award-winning nostrils, that were the basis for Benjamin Button's age 56 prosthesis from last year's hit film. First up was a surprise curling birthday party. Here's me and my team:

We all did surprisingly well considering curling is a sport that only Scottish grandmas excel out. Just kidding, I'm not ignorant, just silly and there IS a difference despite what Robin Williams says or does. We all decided that we're going to curl again, even though we run the risk of being labeled either "dweeboids" by the hipsters or "hipsters" be the dweeboids. Now I know how singer/actress Jennifer Lopez feels. Two celeb references in one paragraph, geez, who am I, Joel McHale? THREE.

On Sunday we got up early for our annual outing to Buffalo (who's new motto per my friend Scott is "Grey Skies, Wet Ground") for a Buffalo Bills game. The weather couldn't have been any shittier. It rained the whole time, and even though I wore three layers I was still very damp by the time we headed home, allowing border guards to detain me, just in case the dampness was smuggled American simple syrup. It was also cold, but not quite cold enough that the rain turned into beautiful Buffasnow. Despite all this, I think we all had a good time because we're not babies and normally if you have beer and sausages a day is good by default.

WHO DOESN'T LOVE A GOOD DOOR?

THE ART OF SWALLOWING

Real swallowing. Not the kind (well, sort of) teenage boys think is hilarious and not the Australian tradition of capturing swallows, blending them up with orange juice and cumin and serving them to the national surf team for good luck and nutrition. Regular swallowing.

"I played the hamburger in grade eight band"

Chances are you swallow no problem. It's just one process that's part of eating as a whole along with smelling, chewing, churning and shitting. Apparently at some point, probably when I was doing some late-night scarfing, I started thinking about swallowing, and then I found I couldn't do it right anymore. Any professional joust coach will tell you the minute you start thinking is the minute you end up with a lance in your butt. This swallowing problem has happened before:

October 6th, 2009

The problem is that I don't chew enough because as soon as bite 1 hits my licker, I'm already ready to take bite 2 and so on and so on. The day after I chow down I feel full the whole day and my throat gets swollen. I guess it's because there's a mound of un-chewed, pre-poo food sitting down there and my throat is tired because I stretched it good.


According to medical journal Wikipedia, "Eating and swallowing are complex neuromuscular activities consisting essentially of three phases, an oral, pharyngeal and esophageal phase." Phew. I would've been pretty bummed had it read "Eating and swallowing is so easy that babies can do it right away, no problem." Let's take a look at some of these stages:

1) Moistening

Food is moistened by saliva from the salivary glands (parasympathetic).

No problems there. I may not have the wettest mouth in the kingdom, but I'm no cottonmouth either. If I ever own a bar I might call it The Saliva Gland because bars are fundamentally in place to wet mouths. It wouldn't be a good idea to highlight the fact that they're also there to poison brains. If people didn't care about that I'd call it Computer Games. Either The Saliva Gland, Computer Games or J.J. Micky O'McFlanarourke's.

2) Mastication

Food is mechanically broken down by the action of the teeth controlled by the muscles of mastication acting on the temporomandibular joint. This results in a bolus which is moved from one side of the oral cavity to the other by the tongue. Buccinator helps to contain the food against the occlusal surfaces of the teeth. The bolus is ready for swallowing when it is held together by (largely mucus) saliva , sensed by the lingual nerve of the tongue. Any food that is too dry to form a bolus will not be swallowed.

I do tend to eat way too fast, which is a symptom of my motto, "Just Eat It". Perhaps I don't get enough spit into my food. I don't know though, I did self-prescribe several more chews ever since I noticed I can't swallow right anymore.

3) Trough formation

A trough is then formed at the back of the tongue by the intrinsic muscles. The trough obliterates against the hard palate from front to back, forcing the bolus to the back of the tongue. The intrinsic muscles of the tongue contract to make a trough (a longitudinal concave fold) at the back of the tongue. The tongue is then elevated to the roof of the mouth, genioglossus, styloglossus and hyoglossus such that the tongue slopes downwards posteriorly. The contraction of the genioglossus and styloglossus also contributes to the formation of the central trough.

I think I'm having trouble forming this trough. It's a lot like real life -- if a guy orders you to make a trough and you don't think about it, you'll dig that trough no problem. But if a guy orders you to make a trough and you do take a moment to think about it, realizing that there's pools to dive into and hardware stores out there to discover, you'll decline the order.

I'm basically trying to skip the step because my thinking brain likes shortcuts, while my unconscious is a rule-following bore.

The goal henceforth will be to distract myself while eating, so I can allow the wiener part of my brain to take over from the not as wienery part. Let's brainstorm:

1. Picture myself naked
   
   
2. Try to recite an entire Simpsons episode in my head (I've tried this before while waiting for things)
   
   
3. Get a tattoo every time I eat and the tattoo will be of whatever I'm eating. This will also force me to eat totally awesome, esthetically pleasing food for the sake of my skin canvas.
   
   
4. Pretend I'm a car. Food is my fuel. Feces is my oil slick to thwart would-be chasers. My nose is my hood ornament and my yelling "DUUUUPHH" is a my horn.
   

Luck-pdate

Last night on my way home from work I was walking up through the PATH system, window shopping Andrew's Ties and Fruits & Passion as usual, when I found a pair of Leafs tickets on the ground. I don't usually find treasure so I didn't really know what to do. Do I notify PATH security, sell them to a scalper, go to the game, give them to a homeless teen? Since I lost my wallet a couple months back and someone was nice enough to return it, I decided I was karmically inclined to return the tickets to the box office. They said no one reported them lost or stolen so I could just go to the game, but if the season's ticket holder showed up I'd be asked to leave. They never showed up but the game kind of stunk anyway, still, this was probably one of the luckiest things that's ever happened to me.

CHEZZNUT BOASTING 'BOUT HIS DOPE ON FIRE

I never really delved too deep into the details of my employment over the last five years, mostly because I feel that work should never get in the way of poo jokes. But I can now safely announce that I no longer do that thing I used to do, which was reading press releases all day. Instead I now listen to webcasts. I tell you this not to draw out congratulations but so you can adjust your fantasy sequences of me accordingly. Hopefully this new position won't mean less critically acclaimed blog posts, but if they do I have a back-up plan where I just start copying people.

This April, not only will I be celebrating the 9th anniversary of my 20th birthday, but HBO's Game of Thrones will premiere to the screams of millions of teenage girls across the world. Did I say teenage girls? I meant middle-aged freaks. Just kidding. I'm a big fan of the books and I consider myself more of a wimpy smiler who still thinks he's a young adult.

I've been reading the books since June and I'm still going, so when I'm an old man, telling my grand kids about the years 2010 and 2011 while they feed my milk and energy crisps, I'll be able to tell them that it was mostly me just enjoying stories about dragons. I guess it's better than two years characterized by weight gain or jail time. I'm no longer scared of years dominated by hair loss because I've had time to accept it. I believe I first noticed my hair leaving in first year university. What a ride it's been. Anyway, here's an exclusive Foot Locker® Sneaker Peaker Insider Peak™ that debuted after the new Taco Bell commercial debuting the new Nine Cheese Mexi-Shake that debuted during the second warm-up of last Thursday's NBA game between the Denver Nuggets and the St. Louis Battlebirds:



Kudos to the art department, who will no doubt be Emmy bound this year.

I truly am excited for this damn thing that will actually look like this:



To some of you, namely the ignorant ones who don't read books and have no sense of adventure, this will look just as silly as that fake footage. But you'll be sorry once bearded guys with swords who wrap themselves in fur become the new vampire, igniting a worldwide craze. The porno parody will be called Game of Thongs, Brad Pitt will play a guy in a movie with a name like Grogoz and horse traffic will increase to levels not seen since Henry Ford realized that burned gasoline smells a bit better than manure.

REINDEERS GAMES ARE FUN UNTIL SOMEONE GETS PREGNANT

HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE

Since I'm almost done all my Christmas shopping, I thought I'd help all you saps out with a helpful gift guide that will make your loved ones cry tears of greed as they ungratefully rip open each package without any regard for me, the guy who made the gift guide that led to the gift that led to the tears.

$10-$30

The Internet


Grandma might be good at making jam, but she knows nothing about the world's most popular everything, the Internet. Since she probably already has the hardware -- your old computer that's full of malware old university essays -- you should be able to get away with the most inexpensive subscription your provider offers. Plus, she won't even be able to tell if it's slow or even if it's working. In fact, you can can probably just get away with giving her a flashlight with some loose wires taped to it.

Batteries

The world is quickly being taken over by electronics, which will inevitably lead to PETA-approved, ethical cyber-zoos that will lead to robo-kid surrogates because no parent will want their child on the streets with the ever-present threat of escaped ape-bots. What do these life forms run on? Nope, not vinegar, and not even blood, but BATTERIES. Buy as many as you can now, because in 10 years they'll be worth more than go-karts. Plus, if there's a nuclear war I'm pretty sure batteries will become a form of currency along with old trophies and decent pens.

Shares in laser company


I'm not even joking about this. Look at the facts - tattoos are more popular than ever right now. What people don't seem to realize is that tattoos last forever, but most relationships and bands you think are cool, don't. I bet that in 10-20 years, the tattoo removal business will be so big that even Steve Jobs will get in on the action with a laser that can not only change colour, but also automatically download the latest Feist track to play while your skin gets burned off.

$31-$73

Beach Pillow
(image not available)

I've spent years developing my only invention, THE BEACH PILLOW that will make going to the beach a pleasant experience for once. I can't say too much because I haven't secured the patents yet and that no-good idea thief Weasel Lemky was spotted recently at the beach with a feather pillow glued to an umbrella, so I gotta watch out. When this thing is finally released, the demand will be so high that it will probably cost around $700, but if you pre-order this Christmas I'll give you a voucher for ONE beach pillow that will only cost you $50 and I'll throw in an autographed 8x10.

Earmuff


A lot of dudes dig ears. A lot of dudes dig girls. A lot of dudes dig sex with girls. Add that up and you have the ultimate male fantasy - the earmuff. For just $45.99, you get two pairs of earmuffs, a full-bottomed panty for the office and a g-string (pictured above) for the nights when you force your woman to wear something sexy for once.

$74 - priceless

Cat Chauffeur

I know, I know, you can get a cat chauffeur for way less than $74 nowadays, but most of them don't know how to work the horn and they rarely change radio stations, even during commercials. Today's premium cat chauffeurs know how to smoke and read magazines while waiting for you to finish dinner at the restaurant, and some of them can even say the word "hi". Buy now and receive a free chauffeur's hat, an adorable little Bluetooth earpiece and a 2 month subscription to Sirius/XM satellite radio.

Human child


Pregnancy is absolutely gross. Your favourite chick gets fat and starts whining all the time and then all this shit comes out along with slimy baby who won't shut up. When you want a new TV, you don't pull one out of your wife's privates, you go to the store, so why not do the same with a kid? I don't really know where you can get a kid for a decent price but if I were you I'd just ask around because most parents are looking to get rid of one or two around this time of year as the price of toys is utterly ridiculous these days.

LAND LINES AREN'T BLAND, GUYS

The Christmas countdown has officially started at my house! The cats have been released, the hog is in the kiln and due to a strategically placed piece of holly, I'll have the pleasure of kissin' my mailman for 30 straight days.

Before I delve into telling you stuff that doesn't matter to Third World countries, I want to plug some things that may matter to Third World countries depending on their likes and dislikes.

Last Friday I attended my buddy Egan's comic book launch party. Go over here and do what you do on websites. You know, click around, discover some links, read some material, and hell, if you like what you read you can even bookmark the damn thing! I've worked with Egan for five years and have followed the progress of this piece of "lart" the whole time, so I'm very happy for him and the process has inspired me to write my own graphic novel about the fascinating and oft times vile world of windsurfing. As a nod to the man who inspired me, the comic will be called "Egan Steven" because the main guy Egan always wants to get even with this other windsurfer named Steven who keeps getting all the waves....and the girls.

Four great bands played the launch party and I'd like to highlight one of them, BLOOD CEREMONY, whose guitar Sean player I also work with. God must've liked my musk when he was handin' out co-workers, eh? I can't say enough good things about the man himself and the band he controls. Seriously, go see and/or buy all their stuff before music becomes illegal.

STOCK TIPS

I came across this press release yesterday and at first it just seemed like a run-of-the-mill quarterly report, until this part jumped out at me: "The Company is very fortunate to have three new and highly experienced directors join our Board - Lord Howard of Lympne, Robert (Bob) Wigley and Beer Van Straten." INVEST, INVEST!!! I would trust this board with all my money as well as my body. Here's how I picture them:

LORD HOWARD OF LYMPNE

Cunning. Chivalrous. Rich. Good cook. No man in the realm can make claim to these traits but one Lord Howard. Pictured is the good lady Gina meeting his Lordship in the lobby of HQ. They were off to the Keg.

Robert (Bob) Wigley

The inscrutable Robert (Bob) Wigley, is a former spy for the Team of Terror Dudes, an evil organization hellbent on producing the world's scariest buildings. He agreed to switch sides when Lord Howard held a blade to his throat during the takeover of Bosworth Energy Ltd. So long as he continues to use his powers for good, the world shall remain safe and company shall remain profitable and LEED certified.

Beer Van Straten

And here's the glue the holds the whole raft together, the man they call "Beer". Here he is during one of the company's famous impromptu drum circles. Right after this shot was taken, the drum exploded and doves flew out. Wigley was spotted with his orb behind a nearby fern.

THE RIGHT OF WEY

If you're having trouble insulting people these days because you feel that most common insults are passe, try my new insult generator. This was inspired by two things, the first being one of my favourite books of all time, Beavis and Butthead's "This Book Sucks", which included a delightful band name generator game. The second is my own feature "Graffiti of the Future" where I introduced the world to new slang terms that you should expect to see by the time cars run on human waste. All you have to do is pick one italic from each category, starting with A) and you have yourself an original burn to try out at this year's Christmas party that's bound to turn smiles into puke.

A) Hey you...

Tube
Dip
Bit
Coat
Map
Leek
Screw
Fork
Smoke
Trunk
Smear
Note
Tape
Dana
Wheel

B) Why don't you...

Snip
Sniff
Cheer
Trap
Dock
Churn
Sweat
Nip
Pinch
Mock
Chuck
Snare
Mop
Write
Smoke
Split
Sip
Dip
Smear
Blog

C) a...

Girl
Swear
Plate
Tub
Clot
Weed
Boot
Oak
Book
Leak
Church
Nude
Nap
Pud
Tree
Rod
Chunk
Knob

You can interchange sections A) and C) and even some from B). Like I have no problem calling a guy a Trap if he's acting like a real Dock, you know? I included "Smear" in two categories because it's my word of the year. If you're big date is coming up, I'd recommend breaking it out, because 2010 is dwindling down FAST and most girls are looking to lock up an engagement before their parents pester them during the holidays. So if your waiter is being a smear, let him have it, don't hold back.

CAR 54, WHERE ARE YOU AND HOW ARE YOU?

Last weekend me and my female property hosted our first ever adult-style dinner party. Can you blame me? Look at the facts - I'm 28, I enjoy cooking, I know how to chew, I like friends and I currently rent my very own apartment. With those kinds of ingredients we were due to fry up a cooking party of epic pie-portions. I didn't make the pie. One of my guests did. It was delicious and covered in caramel sauce, a sauce I've grown to appreciate as I approach death.

I don't have any pictures to prove any of this, but here's a dramatic re-enactment, all the way from preliminary cooking to after dinner conversation:




So yeah, overall everything went smooth!

I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One last night at the gorgeous AMC Yonge Dundas theatre here in Toronto. Despite the fact that most of the movie is like this...

Harry - I don't know what to do next!
Hermione - Let's run around some more
Harry - Oh look, I found an artifact in another forest
Hermione - And I think I've solved another mystery
Ron - You git!

...I enjoyed it because I love adventures more than I love money, but not as much as I love peaches. You think I could get an Internet date with a profile like that? I'd be bad at Internet dating. As long as a girl says she enjoys Swiss Chalet on Sundays, I'm all over her.

PERSONAL UPDATES SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO TALK TO ME

I think I'm back into Coca-Cola again. It's hard for a guy to ignore the universe's most popular drink and 2nd most popular brand next to God. For awhile there I cut caffeine out of my life like it were an obsolete hobby because I thought it would improve my overall well-being, which I guess it did. But I just couldn't stay away from that sweet crisp taste and I felt so damn left out. Coke goes with any food except breakfast but it's not illegal like beer is.

And I'm finally into podcasts! Years ago, when my butt wasn't a problem and I was experimenting with beards, I kept hearing about these things and they sounded so cool, like a euphemism for C-3Po's dick. Then I found out that they're just people chattin' in mp3 format, shattering my expectations and leading me to ignore them for several years. And as someone who can't sit still, rides a bike, can't write while people are talking and doesn't work out, I couldn't figure out when I'd be able to devote an hour here and there to just sitting and listening. Who do you think I am, Tony Dow?

Then some buddies started one and my friends started talking about various "poddies" and since none of us watch the Simpsons anymore, I needed to start listening in order to be able to talk to them about things. And so here I am. Podcast listener, teeth glistener, name not Christopher, merry Christmas.

WE HAVE A DECENT UNIVERSE

Here we go guys, another day of ruling the world as humans. What will you do today to assert your dominance? I've already chased three pigeons and ate Captain Crunch cereal. The only food a rooster ever invents is its own shit. When we make up new cereals we're basically playing God, so we really shouldn't get too upset about stem cell research and abortion. If you're going to protest all that you might as well protest gummi bears as well.

"If you have to do research it means you don't know anything"
- Glenn

Last night I "worked" with LIFE OF A CRAPHEAD again. I put "work" in quotations because it makes it look like the word has wings. Fly like an eagle, to the sea. Fly like an eagle, let my mommy carry me. We did a show with these's and I got to meet Dan Deacon, who was very funny along with the cast, many of whom looked like people I know from Canada, our home, a big land. What a crazy world! In the show I played a half Medusa, half man in bathrobe whose house was on fire, and if the pictures ever reach the public domain I'll put them up so you can complete your sticker books.

Half my face looked like her 100% face

"Treat your feet like you treat your own mother"
- Glenn

I haven't talked about my stomach in awhile. Rest easy party dudes, lately I've been drinking beer no problem. At this time last year I couldn't drink that sweet shit unless I was armed with a bottle of Pepto, a stomach full of potatoes, and no worries, because unfortunately, worries make us poo our pants and throw up sometimes. WEIRD. Anyway, I'm not totally cured, I still wake up every morning and burp like crazy. Some doctors would diagnose this as a case of being hilarious if you enjoy the sound of burps as much as I do. Others may call it Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Your choice!

"It's a damn shame Choclair never got big in the States"
- Glenn

And lets up heap praise toward Pat Thornton who raised over eleven thousand buckerdoos to comabt AIDS in Africa by doing stand-up for 24 hours straight. I was there for the first few hours and helped write jokes about popular topics like Luba Goy, marmalade, a six year old named Tristan, Rap Grimace and Kevin Sorbo. Here's Pat:



I've never even come close to raising that much money for anything. Once I won a prize when I was in Cubs for having the best basket at Apple Day, where you go door to door selling apples. I won because my basket said 'Thank You". Since then, I've wrote "Thank You" on everything I own, and even though I haven't won a prize for it since, I probably get more high fives per annum than most.

MONEY DOES GROW ON TREES, BUT IT'S THE ART THAT MAKES IT VALUABLE

HOW TO RUIN MY DAY EVEN WITH ALMOST PIZZA

What I'd like to do now is tell you about Sunday, specifically yesterday's Sunday, the second of this month, which, say it with me, is called "November", the lowest rated month of the year according to Popular Cheese. Everything started off fine, as I woke up wart-free, ate some cereal, ran a comb through my beautiful hair and headed off to my ball hockey game with dreams of goals and butt pats.

I had a pretty good streak of feeling pretty good about everything up until this point. Maybe it was the rain that washed away my feelings of 'yeah dude', or maybe I was just due for a saddening. Even the happiest millionaires get pissed that their clothes aren't rare enough, you know?

Anyway, during my ball hockey game this girl on my team got into a bit of a spat with this man on the other team. I was on the floor at the point and asked him to simply apologize for what she claimed was a push on his part. He didn't seem to think that what he did constituted a push so he went about his business. Because "justice" is my favourite name, I took offense to this and aggressively slashed his plastic stick the next time we came together, which he really didn't like because this is apparently an illegal move. I felt no need to apologize after what he had just done to our girl, so we started arguing a bit. I don't remember exactly what was said, but I definitely ended it with "Well, at least I don't push girls", accentuated with a pushing motion on my part, which I was very pleased with. Huge burn.

But shortly after I was all like "oh man, that was embarrassing, I'm turning into the kind of butthole I call a 'buttman'." You see, I'm an advocate for not taking recreational, co-ed sports very seriously, so when I thought about it and realized I'd turned into the loud mouth serious taker that I despise, I got mad at myself, and I'm the only guy who can get mad at me. Except that guy who I slashed. I'm a sweetheart! This is quickly turning into a children's book - "I was upset but when I got home and saw my dog marbles I felt a lot better. Ma, Pa, and Aunt Bee Deeds were waiting with supper, which was cabbage and cracker soup." Anyway, I put the issue behind me and went home for a scheduled apartment cleaning.


Cleaning truly stinks. I can handle vacuuming because it's futuristic, but every other facet of cleaning goes against our natural human tendencies of throwing old bones everywhere. I thought to myself, "If I'm going to clean, I might as well eat pizza while doing it", just like every Italian house wife who ever put on an apron. It was the only thing keeping me going, like a chocolate bar dangled in front of a walrus during a company picnic at the zoo. So I get this sweet zit faced dough baby in the oven and go back to soppin' up grease. Then my oven broke! I kicked the oven so hard. Then our mop broke! So I made a sandwich. By the end of the day I was so cheefed that I was about ready to call my mommy. LIES. It didn't get that bad, but still, no pizza, fight with old man and a broken mop is enough to make this man turn into a Mr. Hyde who doesn't kill anyone but just pouts and watches the CFL.

MOD YOUR MOM

I can sort of characterize the last five years of my life as a series of ruts. I'm not always in one, mind you. Sometimes I crawl out and go on vacation or enjoy a healthy string of partying, sunny weather, juicy foods and creative excellence. I think this how most people's lives go, which is something I failed to recognize until I became a man and started washing my own undies. Anyway, 2010 has been pretty cool for me, and I think I've sort started accepting the things that happen to, and around me. I guess you could say I'm in a rut now because I'm not too different from the bright eyed young man who began his independent life five years ago, but I've evolved to a point where I can be a productive dude whilst here.

I got a good rhythm going now

I wake up and cook breakfast and dinner simultaneously. Eat your heart out computers -- you're not the only noun around here that can multitask.

Today I over-spiced my stir-fry though, but not enough to not eat it. My wet tickler was on fire while reading a fantasy book whose characters suffer constantly, so I choked it all down, enduring what doctor's call "lava teeth" and thanked the Lord of Light that at least I wasn't covered in mud and surrounded by wolves and rapists. That George R.R. Martin likes two things - graphic sex and constant bummers. Quick. Imagine what the author of an epic fantasy series looks like.....got it? This is what you were picturing, right?

"My name is George Martin, and yeah, I wish dragons were real"

After my meals are prepared I hope on my little car on go to work. Nothing much has changed on that front, and I could probably write volumes of silly things, introducing you to a wacky cast of characters and ridiculous situations, but if HR caught wind of it I'd be canned faster than gran-gran's homestyle slop. I can safely disclose that I bought new pants.

Gap Khakis, the original pant. These babies are far more comfortable than the inexpensive ones I usually buy. A king would laugh at that because to him, Gap is the peasant's store. His pants cost three emeralds and a strong goat. I guess I should take this opportunity to take the new pants oath:

I swear to wear and and always care
Avoid grease and blood and blood drenched mud
Wash, dry, iron, repeat
I won't eat beats or bloody meats

When I get home I try to get some writing done, which is tough because once the working day is done, dudes just want to touch buns. Currently I'm working on a TV show about Heaven and I still find time to touch buns.

I'm realizing more and more that life isn't as complicated as you make it out to be. All you really need is family, friends, pizza and vacations, while turning your nose up at the dung that gets hucked your way. Or better yet, take that dung and grow some damn yams or something.

I COME IN PEACE AND IN VINTAGE DIOR

Whoa dollies, we bought so much post-Halloween discount candy that my new name should be "The Honey Bear". The mainstream media always associates Santa Claus with toys, but don't forget, the guy fills stockings with candy as well. So you can call me Santa Claus too. ORRR...

The Pezident of the United Treats of Sugar
The TerMINTator
Kyle Reece's Pieces
The Crash Test Gummy
John Candy
Caramilk DioGuardelcious
And...



My favourite Aqua song just in time for Remembrance Day. The only difference is that this is only the beginning, not the end, for me, the sweet sugar candyman.

For all you history buffs, here are some bonus Halloween photos for your scrapbooks. Look at that jersey. PERFECT. I'm giving myself the chills just looking at and I'm not even cold because I'm wearing thick ass corduroy, which I think will be one of the first textiles to go extinct.

On Sunday I performed with LIFE OF A CRAPHEAD, and to thank me for doing it Jon brought me some meat last night. This isn't the first time I've received meat as a gift. One Christmas my dad got me a box of steaks and at first I was like "unconventional", which quickly turned into "great gift", because lets face it folks, meat is expensive and I'm not made of dimes. I cooked Jon's tenderloin to perfection and had some fried onions along with it that were absolutely drenched in butter. For desert I had candy. My snack today was candy. My desert and late night snack will be candy.

A LIVING ROOM WITH A MOUND

My breath smells like chocolate, I keep finding rockets in me bum and I got pumpkins on my feet. This can only mean thing - it's the day after Halloween, which I believe is called Mother's Day in India. You know who told me that? The Headless Oarsman who sculls up and down the Credit River every Devil's Night and just cleans things up as best he can. This year he found a rusty old shopping cart that he's going to turn into a mobile for a children's hospital. We had a great chat over some local, organic fruit.

I spent my Saturday night at Comedy Bar, which was transformed into Comedy Bar with spider webs for the big party. I was really happy with my costume and made it to the top 3 in the night's costume contest, but much like my Fuji Hakayito from a few years back, I felt I didn't get enough respect. Is this dumb of me to be so full of myself? No. I was real from head to toe. The only thing I didn't do was give myself the signature Ricky Vaughn hairdo, mostly because I was wearing a hat the whole time. Plus I didn't feel like looking like an idiot for as long as it would take for my hair to grow back. I was absolutely fine with losing to the always creative Hepburn sisters who for sure had the best 'stumes of the eve:

An Asshole and Dark Helmet, all homemade. If Halloween were the show Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, Guy Fieri would call these costumes "money".

Here's Liv as old lady from "Grey Gardens", or as the old man dressed as Bruno at the party kept calling her, "Muslim Lady". Surprisingly there was another woman in the same costume and the two became best friends forever.


Lacey, as Queen Elizabeth II

Sarah in an excellent Uhura, and Andy as a Future Shop Employee showing off the iPhone 3GS

Bar owner Popeye cleans up some barf or something while a pig dressed as a human law enforcement officer makes sure no one steals the mop. No one stole the mop.


Scott on the right encounters Bizzaro Superman. But wait! He's smoking so they're both shitheads.

Scott and Vinnie G with some very non-heinous Bill and Ted outfits. A very impressive midriff considering how much beer that guy drinks.

And finally, here's professional pal Nikki who I didn't party with but deserves worldwide accolades for Wayne/Garth.

I'd also like to give a huge shout out to Charleston Chews minis that I sampled at the Laugh Sabbath Halloween show on Sunday. I've been a huge Charleston fan my whole life, but eating one takes 2 hours and really does a number on the teeth. All these problems are solved with these bite-sized bits! Pick some up next time Halloween stops by for brunch.

MICHAEL JACKSON'S "IT'S A THRILLER"

Last year I wouldn't shut up about Halloween, and this year I haven't even whispered about it. WELL IT'S TIME TO YELL HALLOWEEN AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS UNTIL THE HALLOWEEN MUMMY AWAKES FROM HIS TOMB AND BEGIN PREPARATIONS FOR THE MONSTER PARTY. HE NEEDS TO GET HIS GHOST COOKIES IN THE OVEN BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE. THIS YEAR HE'S GOING AS A FIRE FIGHTER.

It worked! The mummy hath awoken

His cousin Cory had been tending the sarcophagus while he was asleep. This picture was taken right after Halloween Mummy woke up, and wouldn't you know it? Loyal Cory is ready with the Mummy's Coke, ice cold and in a branded cup, just the way he likes it. Do you have anything to say this year Mummy?

I wish you nothing but the spookiest this year, blobs and gulls! Bring two costumes while trick or treating so you can back to the houses that give out full sized chocolate bars. And if you're going to murder someone, Halloween is the funniest day to do it.

Sorry for that last piece of advice. I forgot this guy is a real deal mummy. I once saw him eat a dog. He filmed it to prove his loyalty to all the cats he knows. You think the musical "Cats" was huge in Egypt? In Egypt it was just called "GODS". I bet the guy who had to introduce the cast during special appearances got tired of it real fast.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...THE CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST OF CATS
CAST CATS
CAST CATS
CAST CATS
CATS CAST
CATS CATS

I was a cat once for Halloween. These supposed "cool men" kind of made fun of me I think, even thought I had the funniest 'stume there. That's not entirely true, there were a lot of good ones. The guys were probably scared the cat was going to make off with all the cheese (hot butts (babes (girls at party))). What creature will I morph into this season?

Our boy Chuck Sheen as Ricky "Wild Thing" Vaughn of the Major League franchise. The real Charlie is more wild than the fake Ricky these days, what with the drugs, hookers, nudity and wardrobe from the sitcom he's in. My woman is tingling with anticipation because of her fondness for this full man from Two and a Half Men. She doesn't watch that show. She likes the Charlie Sheen of Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Pfffft.

Speaking of sports movies starring young hunks who sex scandals, I finally saw YOUNGBLOOD last night. It was waaaay better than I thought it would be, although the story suffered from a lack of anything. The hockey stuff was great though, and thumbs out to a steamy sex scene.

I think I meant to say "Thumbs Up" up there, but I like thumbs out too. It's a hitchhiker reference. In this case the term means, "Sure, I'd pick that up".

SKIP THE LINE AND HEAD STRAIGHT INTO SLOP

Hello world and welcome to Rob Ford's Toronto:


Okay okay, that's not really fair, but ever since our city elected this guy last night, the hamburger jokes have been frying up fast and tasty. I say not fair because everybody was on this guy's giant ass for not liking immigrants and homosexuals, yet we burn him every chance we get just because he's a husky man, and that's not fair to the other huskies in the world who love Chinese people and who get a real kick out of Glee. Do we burn him because he burns others? Let's keep burning him.

I don't totally hate the guy. At least he's cheap like me and dislikes unions, what with their high wages and exclusive members-only shoes. But he also dislikes bikes and the arts, which I associate with on a daily basis. Luckily, neither of these things can be stopped unless skateboards get less dangerous and sports become more beautiful. Back in July I compared him to a puppet of a supervillian. If I was right, Ford will be dead in a couple of days and the Joker will emerge as our real mayor. So the real question is -- who would make a better mayor -- The Joker, or The Rob Ford?

ANSWER ME LORD!

LORD - Yeah, hello
Me - Joker or Ford?
LORD - On the football pitch? Joker.
Me - For mayor of Toronto
LORD - Ford you idiot, the Joker is a maniac
Me - What about Mel Lastman, he was kind of a maniac.
LORD - Shhhhhhhh
Me - What?
LORD - Shhhhhhhh
Me - I hate your riddles.

Yesterday I voted for a new mayor and this morning I voted for abolishing omelettes from my life. The results? 1-0 in favour of no more omelettes. I also got huge support for my recent bill decreeing new slippers. The funds were allotted and I'm now 13% more comfortable than last quarter.

I hate omelettes and yet I keep making them because I enjoy the process of making them and because Bobby Flay said you can tell someone's a good chef by how they make their omelette. I gotta be ready in case I ever run into that guy. Anyway, they never taste like anything good no matter how much butter I use or what I put in them. Today I tried to make a classic French-style omelette with mushrooms, onions, brie and thyme. It tasted like shit! I don't even really like mushrooms that much. I like them mixed with other stuff, but on their own they're garbage. In that sense I like my mushrooms like I like me at parties where the 'other stuff' is other people. That wasn't even worth mentioning.

So I think that's it. No more omelettes. If you spend the night at my house because your house exploded the day before due to a domestic dispute or lab accident, or you come by for a morning analysis of the previous night's late night programming, I'll make you one by request, but I'll be eating Mini-Wheats.

IS YOUR DINNER BRAVE?

My chicky-bear is sick today, which means I could be headed for Sniffles County on the Cough Express some time in the next couple days, unless Sheriff Immune L. System rounds up the Virus Gang and send them to the local jail. Don't let this news stop you from trying out our new secret handshake the next time I see you.

You know what would be a perfect time to try out the new handshake, besides at my annual Boxing Day Nog-Off? Your town's next Handshake Rodeo OR GONG THE SHOW, this Friday at Comedy Bar.

Seriously, this show is really fun for everyone, even your most boring friends who always say they're going to come but never do. Lure them in with the promise of figs and spices. Once they catch a whiff of what our Rocks are Cooking, they'll be hooked and forget that Comedy Bar doesn't sell figs and spices, but nachos, burgers and a great mac and cheese. You can wash all that down with one of their fresh beers, guaranteed cold and fizzy.

What do you have to lose except $5 and a Friday night? Haven't you heard? No one goes out dancing anymore because dancing can make you sweat and doctors are now saying that sweat is as important as blood, which makes sense! There's a new kind of vampire lurking outside the nation's most humid locker rooms and trendiest hot yoga spots. Physical activity and tough exams are now as harmful as smoking. The only thing you can do to survive nowadays is eat lots of vegatables. The rabbits have known this for years. Have you felt their fur? Excellent fur, tasty meet, nice teeth.

And don't bother going outside and walking around because it's so boring out there. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of fall beauty already. At first I was quite taken with its colours and crispness, but now I'm starting to remember that my slender frame can't handle the coming chill. I gotta wear gloves just to feel how cold it is, but I can't tell because of the gloves. Fall is simply a waiting room full of magazines with very nice covers. When you start reading the magazines you realize you don't care about Wired's Social Media Innovator under 40 for the new Millennium 2.0 and next thing you know you're in the dentist's chair getting drilled and filled. The dentist is winter. I like my dentist though, I'm a lucky man.

You ever have those stretches of time where you take really good care of yourself? I'm currently in one and feelin' smooth. I've been flossing more, shaving with a razor and cleaning up after myself. Those who are like this all time are OCD, right? When I shave real close I feel like a youth again. People tell me I still look young but I don't believe it because I have the hair of a middle-aged man. I guess that's my residual self image at work. Imagine I had a full head? I'd probably be completing a successful run as a teenage heartthrob on Degrassi with six Geminis in my rucksack to boot.

This hasn't been a very successful blog post probably because it relied heavily on elaborating on reasons why you should come to our show tomorrow. Here's a Fishbone video:



This song was once on a Beavis and Butthead and it has been in my head and on my various walkmen ever since.

DIGGING THIS NEW CORN ALBUM

To all those who were waiting on the edge of their seat all week to find out whether or not I cleaned oil residue off the top of a cabinet in my kitchen -- I did! I used the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, which is basically a nice, heavy piece of foam. So it wasn't magic, it was foam. But I gotta say guys, it was very satisfying to clean something that I could've got away with never cleaning. I had this incredibly sadistic image in my head of us moving out and the next tenants coming in, checking the top of the cabinet to see if we left any gold up there and cursing us for never cleaning it. I'm not that kind of guy though, I'm a liker, not a lover and not a fighter, but a nicer. At the end of the day I'm just a man who is willing to clean up his mess so others don't have to unless I don't like the other or the mess is poo.

The real question is: how do I prevent this from grease slick from happening again? I don't want to clean grease like that again because it had all my most hated feels - sticky and oily. And no, doctor, I'm not going to stop cooking with oil and frying bacon because I like the sound of sizzles and milk just doesn't do it for me. Actually, I love milk. I don't drink enough of that stuff. Ever since they stopped running those ads that framed milk as a magic elixir that turns frumps into babes and dumps into hunks I haven't really felt the urge. But damn, that stuff is the most refreshing white drink around so long as it's cold and not old.



I hope that by watching that you're enjoying this new paragraph with a cool glass of beef milk. The topic of this baby is Jackass 3D, a new movie that I saw on Saturday. What a nice little time at the theatre! The immortal words of Timothy Leary really help to describe the experience - "Turn on, tune in, drop out". First, the movie is turned on, then you tune in on all the funny stupid things then drop out of your seat laughing at farts, dicks, injuries, poo and barf.

And how about MAD MEN??? See, I'm no philistine. I love poo movies AND critically acclaimed television from a guy named Weiner. If Mel Gibson ever does a one man show or a Joaquin Phoenix style faux documentary or even some sort of an album, it should be called "CRITICALLY ASHAMED". Anyway, MAD MEN? How about the stunning Jessica Pare? I was in the Montreal Fringe Festival in 2003 or something, where she co-hosted the awards ceremony and having already seen her breasts several times and being a fan of her face, my heart went boi-oi-oing. I thought that when she ended up in Hot Tub Time Machine as "naked tits in hot tub", her career was shot, and now she's Don Draper's wife, which is one of the top female fantasies going today. Others include:

- Being Oprah's Gayle
- More singing in sports
- Being Kate Winslet
- Sexts from Brett Favre
- Purse tester

Am I right, ladies?

I know more about women than Jonah Hill knows about the Burger King menu.

I know so much about women, that when I go on a date I can go to the bathroom for 15 minutes and not even care.

I make Hugh Hefner look like a regular Hugh.

DABBLE IN APPLES

I'm definitely thankful for the butt-load of of everything in my life that isn't shitty, which, thankfully, is most of it. I have the best family and friends and even my enemies are stylish and know how to party, so really I should be spending this Thanksgiving weekend throwing up leaves and singing Lightfoot tunes to the homeless. Since I do things my own way with a touch of traditionalism, I instead celebrated by eating a bunch of birds, watching a dude-certified amount of sports, and cavorting with aforementioned family and friends.

Today being the last day of the "nice holiday", I've been trying to get things done around here. Not all things, I mean the toilet could use a scrub and there are hats everywhere, but still. In the process of completin' shit, some minor frustrations have arisen, and since I'm thankful for everything I thought I'd highlight some stuff I'm not thankful for just to make you realize that I'm no angel.

"Hi there...mmmmmm...welcome to the new world"

1. That shitty oil residue - When you like frying stuff in oil like me and Paula Deen and you don't have a hood above your range like me and Chuck D, you end up with all this sticky greasy stuff all over your damn kitchen. Today I was looking for mouse turds when I noticed a particularly gross patch above our cabinets where we keep an assortment of decorations to keep me inspired while I make spaghetti. Now my Gizmo doll, Pee Wee Doll, Masters of the Universe Lunchbox, oversized dragon stein and Lord of the Rings pewter Ent goblet are covered in this shit, and I'm all like "is there a product out there that will gently clean these possessions? Will I clean them before I leave this apartment? I'm going to mad if I move and I take that stuff down and remember that I forgot".

UPDATE

I wrote that earlier. I took all that stuff down and when I was trying to wash the Gizmo doll his head fell off and now all of a sudden my day has gone Toy Story and I can't get Randy Newman out of my head.

You know why the body likes gravy so much? Because it's basically already poo.

I got distracted by that thought. The not thankful for list will be discontinued, and I'm not sad about toys anymore.

STUFFED SACKS

I don't think I'm scared of ghosts anymore! I watched a show on the Amityville Horror the other day and when it started I was like "oh shit, no looking in mirrors for me tonight" but by the end of it I was like "if I need to check my butt out, no big deal". If the show hadn't explained why the whole Amityville thing is bullshit, I probably wouldn't be so brave right now. The only really scary part was when they said these psychics were investigating the house and they set up a camera to take pictures automatically and one picture was this one, with scary ghost boy:

And the psychics who were there were like "there were no boys in the house!". But then I read that this picture surfaced two years after the pictures were taken so obviously someone just threw their son in there because you know, "gho$ts".

Here's the thing about aliens and ghosts: why do ghosts only show up indoors and at night? What do they care? If they were real they'd be haunting 24-7. Remember this video I made?



Point proven. And aliens? Same deal! If they're so smart, you'd think they would've figured out day-time probings and spooks by now.