WINDOW WIDOWS

You guys know me, right? I'm the most reliable friend you have. I'm on time for everything and if I tell you I'm going to lend you a movie I bring it the next day, and even recommend which bonus features to check out. This makes me a valuable member of any social sphere and very well should give me a leg up on today's job market, although my ratio of one job interview a year will tell you otherwise. Sounds like I live a life free of wishing a genie will come out of my Gatorade, right?

Too bad, not true. Being a guy like me means being a guy who sweats the little things because being reliable means you like having your life in perfect order and can't comprehend when others aren't as good as you. When someone throws this order off, it throws your day off, which throws your week off, which may or may not throw you month off. It depends how many buffets you manage to hit.

I think I've touched on this before, but when you're 500 posts deep, it gets tough not to repeat the same things, especially when your life hasn't had much variation, so bear with me and you'll be rewarded at the end.

Take this last month for example. Remember how I rent this little office unit with three other friends so we have a place to write and bring girls to? Recently there was a changing of the guard, with two members leaving and two news coming in. Unfortunately, the two outgoings both lost their keys to the place somehow, and since I inherited the title "Head Office Man", it was my job to get new keys.

The keys aren't the kind you can copy so I had to contact the property manager who kind of looks like an extra Almost Famous. He's a pretty nice guy, but from the first time I talked to him I knew that our reliability quotients were way off. He never answers his phone and rarely calls you back, so for the last couple of weeks I've been leaving him messages while assuring my new office mates that I'm the key to the keys. I was reaching a boiling point, which for me means smiling less, but still, I was miffed big time.

Yesterday the guy finally got the keys and I giant cloud lifted in my head. I think people like me almost welcome these little issues that we care way too much about because the sense of euphoria felt when all is said and done feels so good.

That story wasn't very interesting, but such is the life of a guy who doesn't do extreme sports. Oh! A mouse ate our last bagel the other day! I'm currently trying to kill it.

Here's your treat:

WHY CAN'T BABIES JUST EAT WHAT DOGS DO?

Film Review

CATFISH

Like most people, I went into much hyped buzz machine Catfish thinking I was about to see Blair With Project meets the Matrix meets Jaws. Instead, I saw what felt like an after school special from the year 1999 about people on the Internet not being who they say they are.

The film's marketing campaign instructs you to make sure NOT to find out what this movie is about before you see it. This is wrong information. The only reason they did this was to trick teens and me into seeing it. And like, what the hell? How can they get away with this? It's like telling people "buy my book, but don't find out what it's about. Trust me, it's sick." and then you buy it and it's just a bunch of stories about a red wagon that gets passed down through generations, told through the eyes of the wagon itself and then in the end the wagon is a metaphor.

I would've liked it much more had I known what it was about because my expectations would have been met. When I was a kid I was happy if a movie had adventure or Paul Hogan. Nowadays, I like a movie if it meets or exceeds expectations and hate it if it doesn't, no matter how many nipples are in it. Admittedly, it isn't fair to hate a film if it's totally my fault for imagining it to be something it's not, but I have a wild imagination and I know what I want in life (all you can eat fries, movies with wizards). That's why Catfish is such a dickhead!

If you're like me and want to see a movie about magic and thrills, then Catfish is not for you. If you're a sap who has never watched Dateline and doesn't know that most of the stuff on the Internet is fake and find pretty boy romantic types pretty, then go see Catfish. And there is no actual catfish in the movie. This guy just mentions them at the end in some analogy. It would be kind of a nice part if not for the fact that I expected the "catfish" in Catfish to be a codeword to a treasure barge, sort of like the movie Swordfish but with a treasure barge, or like the main guy is murdered and his body is found in a catfish pond and it seems like the catfish know something.

In conclusion, I can't wait for Jackass 3D.

A NEW GENERATION OF BANDANA WEARERS

I'm still pretty hungover from the 500th Post VIP event held last night at PUD Loungé. We even ordered one of those champagne dogs, trained to sniff out cologne and perfume and bring you the trendiest drinks in a little purse around its neck. Ours was named 'Arthur' I believe.

Now that I'm 500 posts deep, it's time to start campaigning content for the one thou synth post spectacular, this being my first attempt.

Recently, I was riding the subway, and across from sat this gaggle of eastern Europeans who were all dressed in the same colour palette of tans, greys, khakis and light blues. I tried to take a video to show the world, this being the Internet age after all, but I don't think you can truly appreciate the symmetry unless you were there:




They were dressed the way aliens would if they came to Earth and took human forms. It was like they were kind of stylish, but there was just something slightly off, and the fact that they all matched even though they were wearing unique pieces made me sweat. I should've given them the alien test as invented by my friend Jon -- just offer them a banana, and if they say they're allergic then they're aliens. Since humans are evolved from monkeys and monkeys' favourite food is bananas, then naturally all humans are receptive to those yellow mushers.

I don't claim to be a fashion expert or anything, but I've watched my fair share of Fashion Television, mostly thanks to my dad who tuned in because it was the only place you could see naked chicks for free on a Sunday afternoon. It was a great learning tool for a young man, as I was able to appreciate the body of a mature woman while learning about Tom Ford. That guy hasn't aged a day since I was a boy!

It was with this keen fashion eye that I spotted this image promoting a Vancouver Community College's fashion program on a newswire website the other day:

There's a lot to discuss here. I think you could sum it up by saying "Captain Jack Scarecrow". The outfit isn't horrible, but it's not flattering in any way and those net mittens make the model look like she (he?) is trapped in a cybernetic concentration camp. The shoes look as if they were stolen from the reject bin from the wardrobe department of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and there appears to be what looks like a tail hanging from the back? I've never seen a person wear a tail who I haven't wanted to pour a milkshake on.

The main issue with this image is the photo itself, which looks like the photo of a model from America's Next Top Model who gets kicked out in the very first episode. Here's what the judges had to say:

"Girl, why you cover that pretty face up with all that hair?"
"It looks like a still from a Michael Jackson video"
"This just ain't sexy, girl"
"You look like a ballerina from 'RENT'"

This is student work, so it's unfair to be hard on the designer, but of all the pictures to send out to the media, this was the best one?

CLARIFICATION

A lot of ladies were highly turned on by the photo gracing the cover of post 500, and wondered what was up. They were taken by a man named Farris in a European hostel some four years ago, with my Liv present, as a way for me to give back some beauty to Mother Earth, since she's given me so much (lakes). I fully understand someone questioning my sexuality after this information as well as this fashion-centric post, but I can assure you that even though I appreciate handsomeness and a good pair of slacks, my "compass" will always point "north" for "babes".

500 POSTS

Welcome loyal readers and disloyal illiterates, to the 500th post celebration post! Throughout the next bunch of words, I'll share with you some of my favourite things and excerpts on this blog that I found while skimming the whole damn thing yesterday. This is by no means a comprehensive review, so I implore you to read all 500 posts by next week just in time for Thanksgiving. My modern commentary will be highlighted in blue for easy viewing and aesthetic pleasure.

DISCLAIMER - Since I copied and pasted a whole bunch of stuff, the font and size of font will change without warning, which actually looks pretty cool if you're looking at from the perspective of an artful mind such as Andre Leon Talley.

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When I first decided to embark on this journey of wasted words and predictions of the inevitable alien invasion, I wrote this to sum it all up and I'm very proud of sticking to the vision my 25 year old self had:

This blog is going to have a lot of different features and fun interviews with your favourite celebrities.

I’m the author and I’m 25 years old. I’m going to use this blog to make you think I do more with my life than you do. I’m also going to use it as a hangout for my thoughts. It’s going to be the Wendy’s of the Internet, but instead of cheeseburgers you get Times New Romans and instead of paying money you pay me with attention.

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TODAY'S QUIRK

You know what would be scary? If you saw a guy whose moustache matched EXACTLY with his eyebrows. That style is called the "2X4".

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I really do wish a big scientific discovery was around the corner. Being around the Scientific Revolution would have been the best. Everyday these guys were blowing your mind and unlike before when magicians would tell you what's what, these guys could actually explain it. It's too bad that most people thought they were warlocks or Bible eaters. If only we could bring them back to life for a few days and show them how much we appreciate them:

"COPERNICUS, YOU'RE THE BEST, COPERNICUS, NOT LIKE THE REST"

"KEPLER, KEPLER HE'S OUR MAN, IF HE CAN'T DO IT NEWTON CAN"

"NEWTON NEWTON SAT ON A WALL, NEWTON NEWTON GRAVITY DOLL"

"GALILEO SAVE THE DAY-O, GALILEO TRY OUR FUTURE MAYO"

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This is some made up conversation with some made up uncle:

"Well let me tell you about a haircut I got recently. It's shorter now! I went in there and got a haircut and lollipop like a little boy haraharharharharh."

"That was a bad story uncle."

"You thought that was bad? Yesterday all I did was read Calvin and Hobbes and made stew. It all started at 10am. I found a Calvin and Hobbes treasury in my neighbour's garbage. I sat by my window on a grey and quiet afternoon. First I was bored. Then I got sort of happy. Then bored again."

"Did you bring me a birthday present or not?"

"'Course I did! Calvin and Hobbes treasury!"

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Last night I had a dream that I stole a bag of chips from a store and then immediately regretted it. They weren’t even the kind I wanted and I can easily afford chips. After this dream I tossed and turned all night long and it was really bothering me, so when I woke up I called my good friend Dr. Heath Prickler of the Ontario Dream Institute (ODI) and we met up to talk about my dreams:

The chips may indicate many things, paramount among them being the fact that you simply like chips.

Spot on Doc. I do love chips. Especially the savory crunch of Miss Vicki’s new Rosemary and Basil chips. Talk about a warm hug on a crisp autumn morn!

The stealing may indicate a need to take back what’s yours. Does this resonate with you?

Not really.

Have you stolen anything lately?

No.

Do you want to steal anything?

No.

Have you ever stolen anything?

Yeah, like forever ago.

Of course. Your subconscious is telling you that you have a yearning to steal again. Specifically chips. You should steal us some chips.

You just described what happened in my dream. Are you a real doctor?

You tell me.

Huh?

I know what your dreams mean.

…....is there such thing as the Ontario Dream Institute?

Can I have some chips?

Get out of here.

We’re in a McDonalds, I can be here if I please

Okay, then I’ll leave.

Please don’t....I'll tell you a joke..

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This may be trite, but I still think it's funny that a woman can show her whole breast, but it's not pornographic until you see a nipple and yet a man's nipple is fine no matter what. If we're talking butts then it's pretty much an even playing field - you can't really show butts but if you do it isn't that bad, man or woman. Same with genitalia - even steven. It must have something to do with milk. That's a pretty old fashioned way of thinking if you ask me. Girl nips probably became taboo because some bozo on 1765 was like:

"The sacred milk circles that emblazon a woman's breast shall henceforth be covered by silk at all times except on high holidays and when the female is feeding her calf by order of the King. Failure to comply shall result in death by a lobster pit or if the offender is part of the nobility she shall pay a small fine of three wooden nickels and two barrels of mead. The Queen doesn't have to comply at all because she is a sexy babe and she can do what she wants, when she wants. Meeting adjourned, now let's go hunt bears and go sailing before supper. Hey Queen, you can take that robe off you know. It's legal for you. I just decreed it. OH YEAH, CHECK THOSE NIPPIES OUT FELLAS!"

If you didn't think that quote was funny, go back and picture John Cleese reading it. Still nothing? I don't blame you. I didn't think Juno was any good, but a lot of other people seemed to like it. Let's all respect each other's opinions. But seriously, if you didn't like that you DEFINITELY won't like the next part of this entry.

Has anyone ever seen a time lapse boner? I'm very comfortable in my sexuality. I love ladies more than I love candy, but I really think seeing a time lapse boner would be kind of funny and somewhat interesting. There's gotta be one out there somewhere. I bet it would look like those time lapse shots of a plant growing, where it sort of flops up. That's some food for thought for your Thursday evening.

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If I looked up from where I was sitting I could see a giant Anne Hathaway ad for Lancome or something staring me right in the face. I thought it'd be funny if you saw a guy come into the Eaton Centre with a Thermos of coffee, plop himself down were I was sitting and gaze at that ad all day long.

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I'm quite fond of this Choose Your Own Adventure blog I did a while back. A lot of the links don't work, but it's as silly as it was on the day it was birthed from my head.

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Let's get back to it. I remember a time when twins were as rare as a picture of James Tolkan with hair. According to wikipedia, "The current rate in the United States is 31 twin births per 1,000 women", and yet the rate in Hollywood is more like 1 in 3. This must mean that doctors in L.A. know how to give you twins. I'll bet they can also cure baldness and zits no problem. You think some starlets go in to the doctor and are like, "I'll take some new tits, a pair of twins, some new hair, a new butt and..... do you guys have subs? Turkey? Yeah two of those and a cranberry juice. How much? 5 million? Okay make it three subs."

The doctor then says, "No problem at all. What are you going to name the twins once you pop 'em?"

"Football Jesus Horse Phalp Johnson for the boy and Stiletto Handbag Swiffer Wet Jet Lisa Johnson for my baby girl."

"Will she want new tits?"

"Yeah I'd better get her those. Babies don't have big ones do they?"

"Some do."

"Really?"

"No, you idiot."

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For all you aspiring word birds, this blurb from December, 2008 explained the secret to my creative process. It's still the same process I use today, except today I'm more one with my inner dragon:

1) Alright dude, time to write on that Internet site you do

2) What should I talk about? How about my trip to the Fall Fair

3) Okay yeah. Fall Fair. I saw my friend Harry, ate 5 candy apples, saw a ghost, won a Smurf and stole some raspberry delights. Now all I have to do is write about it.

4) Fall Fair blah blah, this isn't very interesting, let's talk about poo.

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I'm a babe magnet pretty much. All I have to do is stick my head out the window and five minutes later I'll have had four kisses at least. When I go to the mall I have to wear sunglasses so that the babes don't follow me around. I hate when that happens. Especially when I'm trying to eat New York Fries. My naked body is worth more than the Sphinx because of the theory of supply and demand; There's only one of me and billions of ladies out there. I haven't paid for a drink since 2001. My butt rules.

The above are the lyrics to the song "Great Guy" off an album I'm working on. It sort of sounds like "Little Deuce Coupe" but with more organ.

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I ran into my friend Robin Williams the other day and this is what he said:

"I'll have the steak with grape sauce, and some water, and then a sandwich, do you have an umbrella, weeeeo oww weeowww, it's raining here!! Does it rain in outerspace or did I just fart? TOOOT TOOOT HAVE some breakfast friend, it's two pesos cha cha cha wing wong wing wong I want a chevy but they're too heavy know what I mean, that's just life friend, gotta sneeze, waaaaazzzzooooooooo uh oh bang bang."

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Throughout the years, several celebrity guests have swung by for a chat, and one of my favourites has to be former pro baseball player, Wade Boggs:

Hey Sluggers! Your old man, Daddy Wade here. I'm sorry I didn't send you any gifts this year, but my powerboat needed new decals and it was my other family's turn for new pants. I know I didn't see you guys at all, but trust me, I'm the same as I was at the end of 2008 -- my moustache remains, I still wear Reeboks no matter what and I haven't lost my lucky screw yet, so really you didn't miss anything. Hopefully you listened to me and didn't change at all, because I did warn you that I probably wouldn't see you in 2009.

Hey Wade, sorry to interrupt, but do you have anything you'd like to say to everyone out there to the readers and not just to your estranged children?

No no no, I wasn't talking to my kids, I was talking to my ghostwriters, Tom Clancy and Franklin W. Dixon. We've been working on my autobiography for six years now.

When's it going to be released?

We're aiming for an early 2006 release.

How's that going to work?

By the time this mother is done, time travel will be as common as burgers and fries and the publishing world is going to be a totally different industry. My book will be the first released prehumously.

That sounds ridiculous, and by the way, Franklin W. Dixon is a pen name referring to several different authors.

Holy shit you're annoying. The guy isn't the guy who wrote the Hardy Boyds, it's a different guy, and trust me, my Franklin W. Dixon is not only a better author, but he also makes a better Swordfish Picatta, my favourite dish.

Is there anything you want to add before you leave?

Yeah sure, um, let's see, okay, if you're writing an autobiography don't be scared to make some stuff up. For example, in real life I was a ball player, but in my autobiography I'm a plumber because everyone likes hearing stories about the yellows and browns if you know what I mean. Also, if you happen to visit Shanghai in 2010 take a peak around and see if you can find my watch. I lost it there last year. It's black, digital, and if you press all the buttons together a parachute pops out just in case. Thanks guys!

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Christma$ is my favourite holiday no matter what my brother tells you, and so there's a lot of stuff about it on the blog. Here's a great little yarn about Mary's complaints while staying in that little stable in Bethlehem where Jesus was born:

10. "Joseph! Can you find me an actual blanket, this sheep won't stay still."
9. "I think my water just broke... no, wait, it's just more pig piss seeping into my dress again. Joseph, I swear, I hate you so much right now"
8. "For the 15th time, Joseph, would you get that fucking owl out of here?!"
7. "It's so damn cold in here I'm scared my birth canal is going to freeze."
6. "You may be a good carpenter Joseph, but you suck shit at finding hotel rooms."
5. "For the last time, if it's a boy we're naming him D'Angelo and if it's a girl I like Toopsy."
4. "First I don't develop breasts until I'm 19 and now this. What's next? Arthritis? Fucking grey hair Joseph?"
3. "You're buying me a goat after this Joseph, you know that, right?"
2. "I hate my nose so much. My nose combined with your common sense? This baby doesn't stand a chance."
1. "So cold, so tired, I'm hallucinating Joseph, I can see the...I see the future! It's glorious... there's a king named Weird Al and a tome called The DaVinci Code. Uh, It's over. Now all I see is a shitty husband, three rosters and a pile of cow shit."

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And here's a lost carol called...

"Bethlehem Snow"

I was there, I saw the birth, the new King brought to this Earth
The little town of Bethlehem was radiating mirth

But I sold rugs and had to split my camel packed and ready
I said "goodbye!", ate some figs and rode on, fast and steady

Before the gates, the sky went dark and a chill filled the air
I looked up to the stars above and white shit fell on my hair

"What the hell?" I asked Denis, my brown camel strong and true
But he just smiled, licked his lips and dropped some sandy poo

Chorus:
Snow in Bethlehem is bullshit even on Christmas Day
You get real cold, your feet get wet and cows eat frozen hay
Women wear more and beer ain't refreshing and I don't own a hat
I had to kill my camel Denis and wrap myself in his fat

Now I'd seen a lot of things, including bearded chicks
But it never snows in Bethlehem so I assumed dirty tricks

I punched a man who walked on by because he looked real dumb
By then the snow was four feet deep and my balls were getting numb

I ate some snow because it was free and all the world went black
It wasn't snow but instead was bleach that had fallen from my sack

Chorus:

Snow in Bethlehem is bullshit even on Christmas Day
You get real cold, your feet get wet and cows eat frozen hay
Women wear more and beer ain't refreshing and I don't own a hat
I had to kill my camel Denis and wrap myself in his fat

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FAVOURITE TRENDS OF 2009:

- Eating soup through licorice tubes then saving the licorice to wager at a monthly Pog Tournament at any local sports bar

- Tricking the elderly into buying hockey cards, saying they'll need them if they ever want to withdraw money ever again

- Tattoos of your favourite report card

- Calling pants "Leg Socks", socks "Foot Coats" and hats "Hair"

- Calling a pizza a "Cheesy Stuart"

- Claiming you're related to Tom Green and proving it by calling a friend of yours who will back up your story and who is also pretending to be related to Tom Green but to an entirely different group of people

- Sweating a lot just so you look wet and can brag that you have a pool that you don't have

- Filling your toilet with sand and making a garden and then shitting in your outside garden

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Unfortunately, this blog is subject to hacking just like any other mainframe.

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I had a lot of fun during our first ever Beak Week, although the public didn't seem as enthusiastic.

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My steady girl is convinced NHL defenceman Tomas Kaberle is gross purely based on this fake exchange with his girlfriend:

Tomas Kaberle - Hi baby, I order a pizza with Czech topping - carrots, milk sauce and blue meat
Kaberle's girlfriend - What's "blue meat"
Tomas Kaberle - Pickled goat vein.
Kaberles's girlfriend - What's milk sauce?
Tomas Kaberle - It pickled goat vein blended with cod roe mixed with crow semen.
Kaberle's girlfriend - I don't think Pizza Pizza has that.
Tomas Kaberle - Let us just put on Coldplay's Parachutes and I'll suck your toes.
Kaberle's girlfriend - ...will you buy me a new dress?
Tomas Kaberle - Of course baby, but only if you dip your toes in milk sauce before I lick them.
Kaberle's girlfriend - ...I don't think we have any, but there's some left over creamy garlic Pizza Pizza dipping sauce in the fridge.
Tomas Kaberle - A worthy substitute. Drop socks and let me dip and suck.

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I spent a lof of time in the early days complaining about work, which I've given up because I've learned that work is bad unless you're weird or lucky. On rare days I did find the lighter side.

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INTERVIEW WITH A BEAN MAN

Why choose beans?
Every man has a path brother.

But what is it about beans that made you want to grow them your whole life?
I don't grow beans.

I thought you were a bean man.
Yeah man, I just study the little guys. What do I know about growing them?

If you study them, shouldn't that mean you know a thing or two about growing them?
"A thing or two"? Who are you, Elliot Gould?

Why don't you just tell us something about beans.
Did you know there's a type of bean called the 'Volcano Bean'?

Now we're getting somewhere! Tell me about 'Volcano Beans'.
No, no wait, that doesn't work. Hold on...

Huh?
Okay, okay, ask me what a 'Haz Bean' is.

...What's a 'Haz Bean'?
David Charvet. HAHAHAHAHA.

So is there such thing as a 'Volcano Bean'?
Is there any way we can have a conversation about Volcano Beans that will lead to a joke about David Charvet?

I doubt it.

That could be his new nickname! Oh man!

Bean man picks up his cell phone and dials a number.

Nick? Yeah it's me. How about "Volcano Bean" for the nickname? Not for my daughter, for Charvet! I know, right! Okay, I'll print the hats.

Hangs up phone

Sorry Tiger I gotta jet, destiny awaits. Eat beans.

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Since a lot of comedy writers make their living making fun of real life news, I tried a few times in case David Letterman ever googles "Canadian poo jokes".

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Another celebrity interview, this time with Survivor host Jeff Probst:

WIDAHIA - Hi Jeff, I noticed you're not wearing your signature khaki adventure wear.

JP - Yeah, weird! No big deal though. It's my daughter's wedding today and as they said in Survivor Australia, "Different pants for different evants".

WIDAHIA - When's the wedding?

JP - We're about ten minutes in now.

WIDAHIA - Shouldn't you be there?

JP - Who says I'm not, Buster Brown?

WIDAHIA - Okay, even if you are there, you're wearing a old t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Where's your tux?

JP - Up your butt and around the corner. You know where I first heard that retort? Three Rivers Stadium, Pittsburgh, 1976.

WIDAHIA - Can you tell us anything about the new season?

JP - Autumn?

WIDAHIA - No, your show on CBS - Survivor?

JP - Baby, that's real life!

Mr. Probst then exited, leaving behind an autographed 8x10 of himself and three packages of unopened Upper Deck baseball cards with a note that said "In your dreams big guy".

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I once posted a poetry contest, and the only entrant and clear winner was my brother, whose poem is worth repeating:

Untitled

I used to have a head of long straight hair,
Though I never used a bobby pin,
I cut it all off - almost bare,
After being mistaken for a girl at the Mandarin.

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I don't remember why, but at some point I posted tips from my favourite male brunette, Ben Affleck.

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I spent a lot of time on this post analyzing modern movie posters and the movies that inspired them.

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Mother's Day Greetings:

Roses are red, rice is from China, I wouldn't be here without your vagina

Mom - I'm old enough now that I could beat you up no problem, but of course I never would!

Mom - Our love is strictly emotional, but damn you look good

You raised me, fed me and nurtured me. All I can give in return is my love and a promise I'll give you the best damn funeral when you die.

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I celebrated at post 200 and my publicist got some great quotes from real celebrities:

Here are what some people had to say about this historic 200th post:

"Listen, I could sit here all day and gab about muscle cars, but I keep that stuff private and so should you."
- George Lucas, director

"My and my sister used to play this game called "Gum Bums" where we'd stick gum to each other's asses and then have our cat eat it off. Great blog."
- Mark Knopfler, musician

"You win some, you lose some. But when you tie, the whole world smiles. When you don't play at all, that's just a safe bet."
- Tommy Lasorda, baseball manager

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The ROM has requested the transcript of the day I live blogged Barack Obama's inauguration

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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.

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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.

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SUPER POWER OF THE DAY

One of the most underrated super powers would be one where you could convince yourself anything is fun. So during the week when you’re at the job you hate, you just use your powers and the most mundane tasks become surf safaris and your nad of a boss becomes a regular James J. Bullock. Then when the weekend comes around you either turn off your powers for regular fun or keep them on for power fun. In the movie version of this super power, the conflict arises when the guy’s parents die and he has to decide whether or not to turn on the fun.

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♫ We are the four Chaz' and welcome to the show ♫
♫ Plug in our tuxedos, see our bow ties glow ♫
♫ We sing you a song, then cook you a roast ♫
♫ Then summon the fifth Chaz, he is but a ghost ♫
♫ He died in a robbery in fall '85 ♫
♫ By stealing the honey from a big old bee hive ♫
♫ He wasn't allergic, he fell off a tree ♫
♫ He climbed the damn thing to escape the damn bees ♫
♫ His wife is a widow and loves to sing jazz ♫
♫ She had surgery and is now the fourth Chaz ♫

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Over the years I seem to hate Mondays more and more, which is a sign I'm getting old, along with a new found fondness for Canadian Tire. Here are some Monday Jokes:

What do Mondays and your underpants options have in common? You don't really care about them until the sun rises.

What's Monday's favourite colour? Orange, just because everyone else hates it.

Who is Monday's worst enemy? Christmas.

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This list of names was really popular amongst my female clientele:

Names I Don't Like And If You Have One It Doesn't Mean I Don't Like You

Shane
Jade
Chase
Austin
Zach
Tiffany
Brittany
Jared
PJ
Dylan
Cody
Taylor
Dustin
Chad
Jayden
Madison
Cooper
Colton
Ryder
Carson

Mackenzie

Names I Want To Hear More Of

Bruce
Henry
Dale
Hortence
Rusty
Xzibit
Ernie
Mack
Tiny
Rudolph
Jane
Lucky
Roald
Valentine
Garfield
Lenny
Viggo
Dirk
Donald
Lance
Bingo
Raymond
Betty
Luke
Mickey
Destro
Willy

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Thanks to everyone who has read this thing at least once. My goal was to keep it going to prove to myself that I can stick to something other than liking fries.

I don't get serious here too often, but I found this quote that I posted from the book Cannery Row that's worth repeating because it sums up the way I feel about everything in general, which is what I try to communicate with every entry:

Two nights ago I finished reading Steinbeck's "Cannery Row" and there's this great part where this guy Doc goes:

It has always seemed strange to me...The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest, are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second.

For post 1,000 all I have to do is paste this whole thing and I'm halfway there!

DON'T HAVE A FAVOURITE COLOUR? HOW ABOUT MEDIUM GREEN?

It's days like this that I feel like a big pile of hay -- hay being the most boring substance on Earth next to paper. It's hard to be the host of a website such as this when you feel like a pile of hay, because you readers are like sharks. Sharks don't eat hay because it tastes like hay, and like humans, sharks enjoy the pleasure derived from tasty things like meat and shrimp. Meat and shrimp are packed not only with nutrients and world class flavour nooks, but also hilarious jokes and pop culture critiques. I'm going to potentially make an ass out of you and me, and choose to believe that you understand what on God's Green Shirt I'm talking about.

The point of all that avoiding spelling out my mood, was to avoid stating the obvious which is:

I always start my day with a big mug of loose excrement

That fat cat Garfield was right about everything, from loving lasagna to hating dogs and Mondays. That guy hated Mondays and he didn't even work! Is that why people thought it was so funny, or was it because it was coming from a generally funny cat?

Anyway, it's real tough for the privileged to go to a job after a weekend packed with experiences that would get a "thumbs up" from most modern party champions. Not the kind of party champions who go to exclusive events and Internet-approved bars and clubs; the kind who need to be holding an open cell phone, a cigarette or a Internet-approved value beer or else see their cred be flushed down the cocaine-dusted toilet bowl. I don't go to those things because they never serve chicken wings and I can only handle so many female bangs before I throw up my arms and say "save us Vidal Sassoon!!"

On Friday me and the fellas put on the third edition of GONG THE SHOW and it was the best one yet. Here are some choice shots from disgruntled Raptors fan, Andrew Steenberg:

Law & Order alumnist Phil Burke gets some "face time" with host Brendan Halloran

Georgea and Sarah dressed as cats have a cat fight, which straddled the line between adult entertainment and funny adult entertainment.

I played a middle-aged man that happened to walk by the bar and became a judge, while Andy portrayed strung out businessman who didn't know what year it was.

Greg Cochrane amazes by playing something called a "Stringed Jolly"

Mark Andrada drinks 12 eggs with beer and spit, while cat lady Georgea and 3-time champ Jon Blair stand by to catch vomit.

I also played a rousing game of frisbee golf with DJ Wes Allen, and this guy from Connecticut we met on the course who loves the Legend of Zelda waaaaaay more than frisbee golf. He kind of reminded me of Gandhi from Clone High, but I say that about every American guy I meet.

On Sunday I went to the Queen West Art Crawl to check out Rachael and Julia's respective booths, while eating corn and pork before playing a three man tennis match. Beat that you socialites! I just love taking advantage of a mixed-use facility such as The Park. All your activities blend into a delicious smooth drink:

The art inspired my hunger, which led to the corn, which inspired my tum tum to eat a pork sandwich, which gave me fuel to play tennis, artful tennis, beautiful ground strokes inspired by the strokes of the art and artists I had just seen. Then I visited mom and dad!

My next post will be post #500, and will feature a collection of this site's top poo jokes over the years, as well as greetings from some of your favourite characters like fart king Dingbat Ploof and absentee father, Wade Boggs.

HOT SNIPS

Last night I had a level 19 freak out when I discovered that my wallet went missing.

If you know me at all, you know that I like my life running as close to 100% as possible. Things that effect my level of normalcy include getting sick, losing things, having someone owe me money, worry about stuff and being all sandy after the beach. Losing something small generally effects my mood about 15%, but losing something like a wallet, which contains a large chunk of my life force will bring things down significantly. It is for this reason that I rarely, if ever, lose things of any importance.

Using my detective skills I deduced that it had probably fallen out of my pocket while riding my bike to work. Since my route is mostly major streets walked by everyone from Bay Street fancies to street dwelling smellies, I figured I had about a 50-50 chance of someone returning it to the proper authorities. I even biked my route again hoping I'd see it lying cold and lonely next to curb, but that didn't work, so I canceled my credit cards and contacted the police squad. I went to bed wanting to puke at the thought of my wally being passed around a hobo's fire, my driver's licence used as a knife to cut open the dinner skunk, my Shoppers Optimum card used as toilet paper and my $5 off bowling coupon being used for $5 off bowling.

But the police called me this morning and said someone found it intact, including $20. Who is my mystery saint? I hope it's a TIFF celebrity such as Natalie Portman, and when she saw my photo ID she got so hot that she had to sit down and grab a Powerade. As we speak she and her entourage are combing the streets looking for me, ready to whisk me away to Hollywood where I'll live like a prince, eating the finest spices and wiping my mouth with the finest silks.

Me AND my now famous wallet will be at Comedy Bar on Friday for the third edition of Gong The Show. Come on by, but don't bring your own food.

MEGA RIBS

First off, I'd like to draw your attention to my new personal website, glennmacaulay.com. With the addition of this website to human life, I will probably become very powerful within two months, so if you were planning on getting to know me personally, you'd better do it quick because soon I'll only be friends with royalty and international superstars of stage and screen. Until then I'll remain humble and instruct you to visit the site on your lunch breaks and coffee dates to stay abreast of the silly things I do outside of the bedroom.

The good news (?) is that this blog will remain up and running until I make my first million! How could I possibly stop, I mean this blog is responsible for 15 of the top 30 pop culture moments of the decade as chosen by the readers of SHRIMP Magazine. Let's keep making history!!

The Toronto International Film Festival is in full swing right now and film's heaviest and prettiest are in town to make money and have sex with one another. Actually, I'm not sure about that last one, but from what I know about actors, "sex with each other" is as much a part of the biz as flawless breasts and well trimmed beards.

I saw the premiere of FUBAR 2, and it was just a great little time, from hanging out in the alcohol and throw-up drenched line with some pals to watching the ACTUAL movie with Terry and Deaner in attendance. It wasn't as good as FUBAR 1, which isn't anyone's fault but the filmmakers and stars themselves. I had nothing to do with it.

Then, on Friday I went to see the Hottest Band in the World -- KISS for the fourth time during my illustrious career. Now, I know what you're thinking, "I want Spaghetti tonight", well so do I, and KISS put on a great show. Here is what some of us looked like:

I was wearing this new 1989 Joker shirt I got and I was going to team up my face with my shirt and just be the Joker but my beard and moustache hair kind of got in the way and I ended up looking more like John Wayne Gacy, so I added the star and became Paul Stanley. That was a long sentence. Let me summarize:

Joker shirt, joker looks like KISS, I thought it'd be funny, didn't work out, Paul Stanley instead.

On Saturday I went to visit my friends the Polands for a night of retro video games and snacks. Not retro snacks, current snacks, like pizzas and ruffled chips. It was VERY fun and we learned that Super Tennis for Super Nintendo is a very good game and that Little Caesar's Hot and Ready format is truly fantastic.

I could paste these activities into an old LiveJournal from 1999 and they would be historically accurate! I spent a lot of my teen years watching FUBAR, going to KISS concerts and playing video games. Does that mean that I'm a weirdo? No! It means I'm the closest thing to a time traveller this planet has.

ICE CREAM CROHN'S

Congratulations to Linger Dalhoploff! He earns the title of BEEF BEAST this month after successfully solving the Steak Enigma during Sunday's Beef Blast. You can pick up your scepter at Thursday's Au Jus social held this week at Wings, Things, and Fries restaurant.

With that we come to the real news of the day, which is that I just purchased a brand new copy of EA Sports' NHL 11. You know what's funny about life besides pubes? When you're a kid you base your entire year around school, your birthday, Christmas and summer vacation. Once you become smart enough to not go to school anymore, and humble enough to give, rather than receive, your calendar changes drastically, along with your body and preference of chocolate bar. When September strikes nowadays, I don't think about school, but rather hockey video games. If you were to go back and read posts from the last couple of years, this would become evident, along with the fact that I've been consistently producing the world's top website on all things Glenn Macaulay.

If you read this consistently, you'll find that year to year my life remains kind of similar:

January - I party with my friends on New Year's
February - I complain a whole lot about weather
March - I complain a whole lot about weather
April - My birthday
May - I complain a whole lot about weather
June - I complain a whole lot about weather
July - I get out of town as much as possible
August - I get out of town as much as possible
September - Buy NHL
October - Figure out Halloween costume
November - I complain a whole lot about weather
December - Christmas

(I promise this will be the last time I list months and talk about them.... UNTIL NEXT MONTH AHAHAHAHAppyGilmorEHEHEHEHEHEHE)

Just follow this template if you wish to become the next me, and this time maybe be more aggressive with networking, because networking is a go-getter's AK-47 and confidence and drive are the bullets and power lunches are the cool leather strap, right?

Don't worry though real me, the first three quarters of 2010 have shown high returns on fun and memorable experiences, while stomach discomfort and waves of blahs have decreased substantially. I eat tomatoes again!

PHONE UPDATE

See this jpeg image? It's me. In my office. TAKEN ON MY PHONE. I know, I know, "Ancient Feature", but I've slowly learned to appreciate the phone I so callously described as "dog shit". I guess it's still shitty, but I finally got a data plan and can now surf the web from any toilet in the world.

Let's review - do you think I should've named all the above months the silly names I used last week? I was going to, but I don't think enough of you read this consistently, and the last thing I want to do is confuse you....

"In two months I'll be ready to bear a child"

McMULKIN CULKIN

I may talk a big game, but hey, I admit it, I'm no Baby Einstein. There's a lot of things I don't understand in this world -- racism, coffee machines, Grey's Anatomy, and especially women! But the biggest thing I don't understand is why some people in our city tie panty knots toward the annual airshow at the CNE. I've defended the airshow previously, and will continue to do so every year, until I stop hearing people comlain that a bunch of stunt-doing flying rocket machines with guns attached make a bit of noise for just a few days, once a year.

Since when is this not, at the very least, appreciable.

AIRSHOW PROS

- Awesome jets that you never get to see regularly, flying around doing stunts
- You don't even need to pay to see them
- Pilots risking their lives to provide an awesome display of physics, technology and human achievement
- The roar of the engines
- The Snowbirds

AIRSHOW CONS

-

The only argument people anti-airshow have is the noise, which is the dumbest. Sure, it's loud, but it's the rock n roll, THX, Jurassic Park T-Rex in the theatre kind of loud, the kind of loud that says "LOOK AT WHAT US HUMANS HAVE DONE. WE MADE PLANES WITH JET ENGINES AND SOME OF US ARE TALENTED AND BALLSY ENOUGH TO FLY THEM. ONCE A YEAR WE SHOW YOU WHAT WE CAN DO". Think of something you really think is awesome. Then think of it making some noise. Would that totally deter you from liking it? AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH I DON'T GET WHY YOU HAVE A PROBLEM AAHHHHHHH IT'S SO FUN, THE AIRSHOW THAT IS.

I bet all the naysayers would tell you "I love watching thunderstorms". I got news for you Bobby Tim - the airshow is a thunderstorm, but instead of rain, super jet planes fall from the sky, then climb back up again and then they do flips. Water doesn't have shit on the airshow. See you next year when I will reiterate these points again.

AM I A REGULAR?

THURSDAY THOUGHTS

Sometimes I forgo my nightly prayers as a "come on, man" to God for blessing me with a pinhead. But this summer I've had the last laugh, because smaller head means smaller surface area means I can dodge the heat a lot easier than the marshmallow domes I see bobblin' around our city streets.

I've spoken at length on this issue in prior entries as well as part of my stage material, so I'll skip any further discussion and instead talk a little turkey.

I was at my childhood best friend's house once during childhood and his mom was mad at him for some reason and she said something like "later on you and I are going to talk turkey", to which he replied, "I'd rather talk hot dogs". For awhile that was the funniest retort I'd ever heard, and still remains in the top 10.

The fact that my mind chooses to remember that and not the teachings of Marshall McLuhan - a main event topic in almost every University class I ever took - tells me that I was born to be silly, and will remain as such probably until I give birth. At that point I will talk hot dogs to him or her every night before bed, ensuring the Earth keeps a smile on its face and a fart in its joke book.

There should be a movie where the world turns super serious because of a Business School Overlord, and this guy who used to be a clown but now works in answering phones at a garbage complaint line has twins (a boy and a girl) and they turn out to be the two funniest kids the world has ever seen, since maybe Macaulay Culkin or Raven Symonne. So they have to go around and tell jokes and stuff, but the government gets all pissed and sends the cops after them in an effort to lock them in a room and have them watch A Clockwork Orange all day, especially that scene where the guy has to watch all that shit. The bad man finally catches them while they're doing improv in the sewers to the Rebellion, and when they're put in the room you think they're doomed but then they fart their way out of it and do a big show at Wembley Stadium.

Greg - Sis, I think we're finally cooked on this one!
Gregine - Yeah bro, now I know, I think we should say a prayer. I'll start.
**FART***
Greg - Well said.
ENTER GUARD
Guard - Had enough yet you... hey, what is that smell?
Gregine - My butt just coughed. What's your excuse?
Guard - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA hey I'm laughing HAHAHAHAH
Greg - Now's our chance!
Gregine - Let's go to England, I hear they used to be the silliest
Greg - I also hear they're the ugliest
Gregine - hahahaha

The film

YOU'VE BEEN SOCKED

HOLY SHIRT, it's September, the month kids and teachers hate more than school itself. Me? I don't mind September anymore because I no longer require school, and the only September milestones of interest to me are Labour Day weekend and my dear sister's birthday, two events that rate high on the positivity chart.

The positivity chart

I'll be closing out summer at the last Water Ski Pro Am of the summer, up at Lake Squinch, a 10 minute bike ride from Sudbury's western-most shore.

Now Where's Waldo that sentence and pick out what's not true.

The answer?

Everything but the part about closing out summer, which I'll automatically be doing because I don't have control over the months! We should though. Whoever named those things pooed in holes and didn't know what the sun was. The next politician I want to vote for should have to calzones to change the names of the months, because let's face it -- the current ones are old and highly unfashionable. The only two things that have remained cool since humans became smart are fire and dreams, and everything else, including months and handshakes, are replaceable.

Just looking at this thing makes me want to puke.

All we have to do is keep the first letter of each month the same so we don't lose track of everything, like when they changed the name of the SkyDome to the Rogers Centre. Remember that? During Blue Jays games people were lined up at the stadium looking for a deal on Internet while baseball fans were left utterly perplexed, retreating to local eateries for caesar flavoured foods.

Here are some names I propse:

JEEP® presents The First Month (proceeds from sale of naming rights will go toward pants for kids)

Fun? No, Too Cold

Morch

Almost Miff's

Miff's

Jake the Month Roberts

Jokes

Arm Your Bathing Suits

Shit

Only A Couple More

NovemBeer

Dude. Christmas.

Just to give you an idea of how fun this would be, today is Shit the 1st and I was born on Almost Miff's 8th, 1982. Write your local Mayor!