PUT A MAN'S MAN IN A GARDEN CENTRE AND HE'LL GO STRAIGHT FOR THE CACTI

I hope all your lives have been positively impacted by yesterday's e-book on the season we call "spring". It was designed to stimulate the part of your brain that loves lemonade and beef jerky.

Beef jerky hasn't changed much over the years, and its biggest fans are still working men with beards who love hunting. If you do the math, the bourgeoisie will get into jerky pretty soon because food trends in the human world are cyclical, just like the tightness of jeans. Here's the cycle:
Right now, the dukes and lords are way into sushi and other stuff that isn't cooked because their yoga teachers got the game on lockdown, so they're back at the top of the cycle, but not for long. Once these trends trickle down to the commoners, and sushi is available in bags down at the local 7/11 in flavours such as Southwest Hot Dog, the richest of the rich will want to move on, which is when they'll hit Jerky. Ronco's Food Dehydrators will become as desirable as Faberge Eggs and the Fruit Roll-Up Co. will enjoy a resurgence.

I can't say for sure that everything I've just said will come true, but if nothing else it reminded me that I don't eat enough jerky and Fruit Roll-Ups, which interestingly enough, were invented when an eccentric candy man desired a toilet paper he could eat after using.

JUMPING IS HOPEFUL FLYING

SPRING THINGS

Spring is a pretty great time for me -- it's my birthday season and I have so little natural insulation that I can really use the extra heat. Plus, the spring months are all named after the first babes of civilization -- April, who was a nerdy girl who got hot in late high school and eventually married a film director, May, who was a bit of tomboy, but had a smokin' bod that she let the boys see during pool parties, and June who was so hot that until she was created men were as attracted to cats as they were to women. Here are some things you can expect to deal with this spring:

Robins - These red-titted birds are one of the first signs of "cheesin' season". They make nests out of our daintiest garbage, and lay beautiful blue eggs that make human mothers wish they weren't mammals. Robins are only good until May starts, at which point we remember how much better blue jays and cardinals are.

Baseball - The professional leagues of Earth's most embarrassing sport starts up in May, allowing a select group of men to sit and stand around on a field instead of a mansion until winter sets in again. Don't get me wrong, I played baseball for several years, but it wasn't because of the action and excitement, I did it for the hats and Gatorade.

Sex - Once the dicks of Earth's creatures thaw out after a long winter of hiding somewhere that I don't know where, they like to have sex apparently. Dubbed "spring fever" I think, most animals except us, dolphins and some cool rhinos have sex not for pleasure, but to ensure the survival of their species. Because of this they need to derive pleasure elsewhere - bears eat honey, monkeys do stunts, ants make cute little movies and wolves just fuckin' roll.

April Showers Bring May Flowers - What the government won't tell you is that May flowers don't even need April showers. The real saying, that was banned in 1971 because it made too many girls take their shirts off, was "If you got a hose, your flowers will grow".

Just have some fun this spring season and don't go see a movie in the theatre unless your favourite critics and your best friends recommend it.

DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE BUT DO DRIVE AND GET ME SOME ORANGE CRUSH (A DRINK)

THURSDAY THOUGHTS
'EARTH DAY'

On one hand, Earth Day is a reasonable idea. It reminds Earth's humans and ultra-smart parrots that we should make an effort to keep the planet clean and sort of frozen. I'm no Smoggy, but I don't bend over backwards for Mother Earth because it is my right as a human of the future to enjoy every convenience this time period has to offer, regardless of its "carbon footprint", "ecological tattoo" or "environmental earring".

The soccer ball represents Earth and the player represents all other planets. Utter domination by Earth.

I think it's natural for us to suck the Earth dry and then fly our soon-to-be-invented star cruisers to the next planet, but the Cheech's and Chongs over at Greenpeace will try to tell you that we're smarter than that. I guess it pretty much comes down to a simple battle between good and evil -- we can continue to use our superior brains to keep making stuff that browns up the planet, or we can think of ways to preserve it and maybe turn it into a better place, like Avatar's Pandora or Florida's Tampa Bay.

This diagram shows the best spots to fish are closest to the power plant

I think cooler heads will prevail unless someone invents something that pollutes the shit out of everything, but is so cool that we just have to use it, which will probably be some sort of flying vehicle or reasonably priced submarine. The same thing happened when cars came out, although no one really knew that exhaust was a bad thing. In fact, many Britons would save exhaust fumes and infuse them in their Sunday roasts thinking they were simply magic clouds capable of adding vigour and sex drive to one's life. This set British cuisine back several years and made exhaust the most 3rd most popular "thing" in Europe behind cars themselves and wristwatches.

Instead of writing all that I should've just put up this picture

In conclusion, don't worry about Earth Day because you're probably not smart enough to change anything. If you are a scientist and you're debating whether to build a dolphin powered eco-sphere or a wood burning rocket sled that has a tendency to kill birds when it flies, just follow your heart. Either way we'll figure something out. When Hitler got too big, we ganged up and took him out, and when we got bored with TV we invented Internet, so I'm pretty sure whatever happens we'll be okay.

This would be a good time to remind TV producers of my pro-environment pilot called "EnvyRonMental" about a mega rich oil tycoon named Ron Mental who is forced to green up his company when his wife threatens to leave him if he doesn't. It's really funny.

I HEREBY GIVE NOTICE THAT I LIKE WAFFLES BUT NEVER EAT THEM

The last couple of days happened to fall on the weekend, and on the weekend most of us don't work. With this freedom I ingested far too much brewed beer and golden whiskey, topped off with a Sunday night hot Italian sausage bought off the streets, meaning today my stomach feels like it doesn't want to be involved with my body any longer and is letting me know by being a fucker. So yeah, shit day so far on the health front. Let's see what else is happening, this April 19, 2010 AD.

The weather is sunny and sort of warm. From my office window I can see that the Gardiner Expressway is flowing smooth like a cream soda down the throat of a guy on death row who needed just one more sweet can of the good stuff before he's roasted. The Rogers Centre, or "Lonely Turtle" is in its closed position and crane operators across the city are telling each other jokes using Morse Code and simple Bic lighters.

I'm wearing my new shoes again in an effort to stretch them out some more and I remember that I don't like the taste of lamb.

I finish the bag of Life Brand sea salt and malt vinegar peanuts I've been working on for a week and a half, and despite an unfavourable initial reaction (they smelled like farts when I opened them) I would for sure buy another bag next time I'm looking to peanut.

After toasting the Internet at a party on Saturday, my friends and I decided that time travel movie sequels are the best sequels - T2, Back to the Future 2, Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.


The last time I had a hot dog or sausage from the street was maybe 1.5 years ago and my body reacted in a similar fashion, which is why so much time had elapsed between chow downs. I don't want to give up these treats because I think they taste really good and I love all the toppings available, but at what price guys? The next time I get a craving and succumb I'll give you a full report, including toilet talk, and if the same thing happens I may have to give up these tubular delights, ending the Age of Hot Dogs in my personal time line.

HUNTING DOWN THE PERFECT JAR

Life would be a lot more interesting if your height changed every time you aged a year. But you don't necessarily grow every time, you may shrink, and then the day you die the math all works out so that you average a very reasonable height. So one year you may live really short, but you're guaranteed to have it even out at some point. Some people live with very little fluctuation and some grow and shrink like crazy. This would make professional sports and the Guinness Book of World Records way more interesting. It would also make you birthday a crazier day than it already is, am I right? Like if you wake up and it's the year you're 6'10, the standard protocol is to immediately contact an NBA franchise for a quick tryout.

The plant world is kind of like this I think. Too bad there aren't any plants that can uproot themselves and walk around a bit. We'd probably give them way more respect than bugs. If a flower took a stroll down a busy city street, everyone would make way for sure. There would be lots of "awwwwwwwwwwws" and "clear the way" and many utterances of "spring is here".

BOMBS AWAY AND SHIRTS TUCKED IN

My 28th birthday celebration officially came to a close last weekend, and even though I wasn't excited to get one year closer to being a pruney old idiot who will claim that Jerry Seinfeld was once Earth's greatest entertainer, I had a lot of fun and have accepted my new age with an open mind. Open mind? More like open mouth with which to pour open beers and open face sandwiches then open the window to feel the cool spring breeze and have it fill my open eyes so I cry. <-------------------- SOLID prose.

I don't really eat open face sandwiches because they're more of a pizza than a sandwich, and because I don't eat anything that's misnamed. Same goes for Sweetbreads. "Hot Dogs" get a pass because they're named after a guy I think.

HIGHLIGHTS OF SOME NIGHTS

On my birthday day (Thursday day) me and the girl hit the Keg real hard for some crab and steak. I commented on how I feel bad for male servers sometimes because they act so happy at the job but then have to go home and tell their grandmas that they didn't get the part in the Gatorade ad and have to remain sweating it at Canada's most luxurious public steakhouse to which she replies, "you should've joined the banks or the postal service". On Friday we had a party at our house and it was a real fun time. I got a cake from Sarah "Rick" Hillier, a bottle of tequila from Andy "The Decision" Hull, some delightful cupcakes from Cara, with custom flags...


... a copy of Ladybugs, copies of the Hot Shots series and Terminator 1, and the Jersey Club presented me with a beautiful Quebec Nordiques Joe Sakic hockey shirt.

My pajamas for the next three nights, ready to go

The Jersey Club is a concept my friends and I came up with in high school where a group of men are assembled and then every birthday the club chips in and buys the birthday man a jersey. A cousin club, the "Necklace Club" has started with a group of girls we're associated with, and word has it that a BMW club is in the works, featuring Toronto's glitterati, quarterbacked by eTalk's Tanya Kim.

Thanks to Alicia for not only gracing the party with her presence but also for taking the pictures you've been viewing. Here's a brooding group shot:

On Saturday my fam-a-ree took me and my dad for a birthday dinner at local meat spot, "Cowbell" where we supped on flesh, constantly reminding each other how good everything was.

The world didn't really need to know what I did on my 28th birthday, but if I ever kill my wife, suffer amnesia and have to piece everything back together, this might just help.

IF YOUR GARBAGE STINKS, YOU'RE DOING JUST FINE

Did you ever grow up in Mississauga?

I did once.

As a middle class family growing up in the shadow of the SkyDome to the east, Copps Coliseum to the west, and the Barrie Molson Centre to the north, we didn't live a very extravagant lifestyle. This suited me just fine and I think the fact that I wasn't spoiled rotten like a regular Rory Culkin allowed me to become the ultra dude you know today.

Most of our vacations were a lot like The Great Outdoors but with more historical plaques. My dad was also very fond of pointing out landmarks, including ones found in our own backyard. Probably our favourite of all-time is a legendary Mississauga intersection that my dad would take us to if our day needed a bit of sprucing up -- the most hideous intersection of all time -- the place where Marf meets Revus.

Those two streets conjure up images of browns and yellows, puke and crud, strip malls, grey skies and sticky things. I hope you get as much joy as I have my whole life knowing that somewhere in this world a person named a street Marf and another Revus, and put them together to form an intersection that no self-respecting family would be proud to call home. Then again, if my sister called me up and said she bought a place at Marf and Revus I'd beam for sure.

In other words, it's my birthday tomorrow! 28 and still eating!

RAN AWAY PARTYING

Because our last couple of summers here in Toad-ronto have been the meteorological equivalent of bull crap on toast with a side of dog shit and moose piss for dessert, I've learned not to take nice days for granted. Hence, last weekend I made full use of Earth's exterior and strung together a nice little few days.

The key to enjoying nice days is preparation. Thanks to the real life seers who predict the weather, myself and an entire city were hotly anticipating Friday, Saturday and Sunday, so I spent most of the week, mentally, physically and psychologically preparing for what was to come. I told everyone I knew that I'd be in the park all day Friday with a baseball mitt and a baseball ball. I also brought along a book, a notebook, sunscreen, an iPod and some beers that were bought the day before, because despite its name, "Good Friday" is bad for the Beer Store being open. Also knowing that the grocery store would be closed because Jesus HATED shopping on Fridays, I bought some sausages and some buns on Thursday knowing full well that someone's grill would be lit. I was right and we ate sausages.

I really patted my own rear for having the foresight to apply sunscreen, but I missed a few spots on my forehead and scalp, so now I have what looks like a birthmark on my head. I wore a hat to cover it up most of the weekend because to me, looks are the most important thing in the world next to money and tight pants on foxy chicks.

WHAT I LEARNED

I was talking about capes with a few friends and someone mentioned how capes and hats were originally worn to ward off the shit that was thrown out the window by our idiotic ancestors who couldn't figure out the science of toilets. I like to think that the reason superheros started wearing capes was when Superman first started fighting crime in Metropolis and people were weary of him so they threw their shit in his direction when he'd leap on by. I like to picture him at the library, reading Earth's books on early fashions and after several hours and several Earl Grey teas, he finally came across the cape, which he saw as the perfect shit thwarting accoutrement to his "just tights" costume.

My birthday is on Thursday, and already my most ardent supporters have been showering me with gifts. My brother and sister go me these shoes:
My dad made me a pen worthy of the president of a large corporation and my mom bomb got me some new threads and some European currency for my upcoming trip to the Italian continent.

HOW THE WEST WAS WON AND THEN LOST AGAIN DURING A CHECKERS TOURNAMENT

I may not be an A++ whiz kid, Harvard trained doctor of galaxies, but I do know that the Large Haldron Collider is a reasonably amazing thing. It's my understanding that it's a big, underground machine that simulates space sort of, so that Earth's brightest brains can unlock the secrets of the universe and creation. I wonder if this is the sort of thing that's way cooler the more you know about it, or more "tubular" the less you know about it. Like last week in the Star there was an article about a guy who worked for Area 51, and the more he talked about there not being aliens there, the less interested I was in the whole ordeal. I prefer my life to be filled with mystery and wonder, and articles like that really don't help matters, so thanks a lot Torstar Communications and Erik Lacitis of the Seattle Times. I think I'm just going to assume that the CIA guy clearly had to lie about all the E.T.s he's clothed, fed and read Richard Scary books to, because if the public found out about that shit we'd all go berserk and loot our favourite stores and libraries.

Martin Short in the set of "Inner Space"? No. The Haldron Collider. Pretty okay place huh?

As previously noted, my current understanding of the project leads me to believe that if Earth's men learn to master this thing it might unlock other dimensions and all sorts of galactic magic that might enable iPods to fly and apples to taste like peaches.

If I'm wrong and an egghead were to explain that it's actually just a big science experiment to find out how atoms react to, oh I don't know, gel or something, then I'd be highly disappointed. BUT if the same egghead were to tell me that I'm pretty much right about the other dimensions and galactic magic and that there's even more to it than that, like the findings will allow them to build a Contact-esque wormhole rollercoaster gyro car or to a much lesser extent, a Stargate, then I'd be all smiles. Do you think there's a culinary club out there called "The Eggheads" who just love eggs and eat them together, experimenting with new recipes and wear shirts that say stuff like "Must I Beg for your Eggs?" and "Give me your eggs and nobody gets hurt (except your eggs)"? I'm going to check............not that I can see, but there is a BBC quiz show, that may or may not feature questions about eggs. Eating eggs is technically grotesque. Do you think humans ate eggs because of instinct or because they saw snakes doing it first?

MEMORY OF AN EXCUSE

I used to hate going to junior high dances because you were forced to ask girls to dance and if you didn't you were instantly labeled a "gay", so I remember one dance just deciding not to go. When my friends asked me why I wasn't going, I said my family was going to visit some friends somewhere that day after school. Next time I saw them they asked if I had fun and I remember telling them, "it was okay, we watched When Harry Met Sally". I don't think I needed to be that specific, but I find comfort in an elaborate excuse. If there's one thing I'm good at it's excuses. Usually, the simpler, the better and you have to make sure you have your bases covered. In this case I knew this family we supposedly visited did indeed own the film.