March 23, 2012


Toronto is in the midst of the warmest March in recorded history. No, really, I checked out the Hall of Records, which is a lovely Germanic-style vault located in the catacombs of the city's top ranked Subway franchise. The previous record was set in 1925 when the city's temperature reached a scorching 32 degrees Celsius due to a combination of a large, aggressive warm front as well as the unexpected eruption of the Hogtown volcano.

For you outsiders, the volcano was the sight of the final battle between Ken Toronto and David Brampton. Toronto was victorious and cast Brampton's golden shirt into the molten lava ending a decades old land struggle that started because of a stolen lemonade recipe. Anyway, by 1925 the 'cano was used mostly for sledding and BBQs, and by the fall of the next year, it was replaced with the Royal York Hotel.

But hey, if you wanted a history lesson you'd go read a KFC bucket, right?

Liv and I used the warm weather as a sign we should finally clean our place, which was beginning to take on the kind of smell produced when you leave an old lawnmower in a shed for awhile. Because of my hand injury, we hadn't cleaned in about 3 months, and I found enough crumbs in and around the couch to feed an entire poorly-catered, poorly-attended family reunion.

My most hated part of cleaning is mopping the floors because I'm never confident I'm doing it right. Is it: dunk, squeeze, on floor, squeeze, dunk OR is it dunk, on floor, squeeze OR dunk, squeeze, on floor, dunk, squeeze? Is there one right way or does everyone have their own style?

I shouldn't have even brought it up. There's a million better things to do in warm weather than clean. Take yesterday for example, I did laundry. That's still cleaning in a sense, but I think it's more akin to babysitting.


I wrote all that yesterday, and today it's not as warm or nice so there's no point in furthering the conversation.


Take off your tie, throw it in the pot and make yourself some Business Tea, it's Friday! To reward you for all your hard work I've put together this week's treat. Don't read it all in one bite.

This isn't even really a treat because it's probably not that interesting or funny to anyone who didn't create it or know us in high school, but here's a web site me and my best pals made back then:

My writing style hasn't changed all that much except I don't swear as much, nor do I accuse everyone in the world of being some variation of a "ball licker". It was the style back then, it wasn't my fault.

March 14, 2012


I went to the hand therapist today and got two whole pages worth of exercises that should give me the strength I need to be able to put on my pants without saying "oohhhh come on.... SHIT... ohhhhhh".

Besides exercise, the other option was to join Team Toronto at this year's Special Thumb Wars, where those with damaged thumbs are able to participate in our national sport without the embarrassment of losing to someone with the thumbs of titan (regular thumbs). I just don't think I'm ready for that level of competition. I tried a simple hitchhike from the SkyDome to Chinatown and though I did get picked up, I wasn't offered any mints because my thumb didn't extend high enough to warrant a minting. Basically, I jumped the gun and I don't want it to happen again.

So, now that my general health is inching closer to 100%, I'm running out of time to use my disability as an excuse to do nothing.

I have to start generating some career "heat" so that I'll finally be able to move out of my parents' bathtub and into my parents' dog's cage, which resides in a pretty good basement of a house that's small with a big backyard.

I scribbled some notes down on a kid I was babysitting, and then had her transcribe them while I say in the La-Z-Boy and watched her old man's Rumpole DVDs. These notes will form the foundation of my pursuit of golden success.

Step 1 - Increase Visibility

I'm going to have to put greater effort into attending this city's hottest events. I made the mistake of skipping the Holt Renfrew's recent "A Salute to Rubies" soiree in favour of my favourite hot dog vendor's birthday. He didn't even know it was his own birthday and forgot who I was. I still got what I wanted, which is one of everything except double root beers.

Step 2 - Network

It's one thing to actually attend these events, but it's a whole other thing to socialize and make important contacts. I've made the mistake in the past of forgetting my business cards, instead kissing those who request them, because I feel my kisses are memorable and really represent what I stand for -- wet tongues and sexual excitement.

Step 3 - Personal Brand

You can't be a visible personality without knowing what your brand is. Mine is high octane, pedal to the medal adrenaline meets Beavis, and in order to be successful I have to represent this whenever I'm in the public eye. I've been pretty lax lately, displaying a brand that has more to do with bad clowns and harmless old cats.

If you see me on the street, don't hesitate to invite me to your next power lunch or coffee circle. It's time I stopped pretending I'm a helpless little elephant who only uses his trunk to poke and prod at my own poo. And if there are any stylists out there who might be into dressing a slim guy who wears the colour blue better than Robocop EVER did, please reach out to me before I forget that I asked.

March 6, 2012


Every now and then I get an email from someone who meant to send it to someone else. Usually, these emails are fairly run of the mill, subjects like "are you still pickling things?" and "I went to the doctor and she said I could stand to clean my arms". But I got one the other day that is the perfect marriage between a standard email from a loved one and nonsensical spam email from a guy named Hotball Discovery.

This particular piece was supposed to contain pictures, except the sender didn't know how to attach them, so it ended up showing these little grey boxes. At first glance I'd easily be able to figure out what the pictures were since there are captions, and the subject line for the email is "Potential cake images...". I figured I was about to read captions like "Here's that car from Cars", but to my delight, I got the following:

Subject: Potential cake images...

This is Chatsworth - or 'don't know' as Benjamin calls him!!!

This is Mtambo - who is from Africa and has a triangle light!!

This is Frostini.

I realise that it will probably be too hard to make a cake with these characters but see what you think!!!!

Lots of Love,

Sharon xxx

I'm going to try to guess what she's referring to.

Mystery #1 - "Chatsworth"

To make sure I won't embarrass myself, I checked to see if there are any popular children's cartoon characters named Chatsworth. There aren't any. If there were, this whole post would be ruined and you'd have to go back to volleyball practice instead of sitting in the bathroom stall with an iPad and a 12" Pizza Sub.

"Chatsworth" kind of sounds like an English butler, but the fact that Benjamin's nickname for him is "Don't know", means that perhaps he's more like The Blank from Dick Tracy or Dark Man from Dark Man. With this in mind, we end up with something like this:

I could see this being on the cake, with a caption like, "Happy Easter Benjamin, Can I get you anything? A soul perhaps?"

Mystery #2 - "Mtambo"

We get a bit more specific with this one, as we know Mtambo is from Africa and has a triangle light. I'm pretty sure that means the picture she meant to attach was Dikembe Mutombo in an Iron Man costume:

Mystery #3 - "Frostini"

Sharon provides not further clues, but this one is obviously an Italian snowman:

It also sounds like it could a hip hop slang term for cocaine.

Other things to consider:

I wouldn't be Toronto's leading private investigator and collector of Kool Aid man memorabilia if I didn't consider all angles. There is a possibility that this "Benjamin" is not a child, but a full grown man/sex slave. Notice how Sharon signs her name with an "xxx", the worldwide zip code for everything kinky. Perhaps Chatsworth, Mtambo and Frostini are simply names for Penises that Sharon has conquered.

In conclusion, this is probably a mystery best left unsolved. Until next time, I'm Donald Faison.

March 1, 2012


Another February down the throat! It tasted like bile mixed with walnuts. That actually sums up February quite nicely because it basically boils down to:

Valentine's Day + RRSP Deadline = February

With everyone swappin' bile on V-Day and putting as many walnuts as they can into their RRSPs, we have a perfectly harmonious February equation.

I hope that made as much sense to you as it did to me while I was half asleep in the bathtub, listening to the audiobook of Christopher Pike's latest teen thriller, "".

Let's look ahead to March:

March is a gateway month. I don't mean that if you try a hit, you'll end up hooked on November by the time December rolls around, it doesn't work like that. I mean that once you step through March's hideous mouth, full of jagged teeth with remnants of winter's bagels between them, April's soft, warm Uvula is waiting to bat you around like an infant in a maze of speed bags.

I'm so glad I was born in April. Sometimes if I'm feeling down, I remember that I was born in a month that is universally loved, from school children who like drawing bunnies, to religious dudettes who cry softly, light candles and put on some Babyface while reflecting on the life of their main man Jesus, to the Crow who can't wait for April showers to make him sad enough to get out there and do the best damn job he can.

Let's see what's in the news:

Windows 8 is about to come out. I should update, I'm still using Doors '89.

The Monkees' Davy Jones died. Did you know he was going to be a jockey before someone realized little girls would want to have sex with him?

It's Justin Bieber's 18th birthday. When you have a certain amount of money, you shouldn't even be allowed to celebrate birthdays because birthdays were invented so poor people have something to look forward to. Rich people even started the tradition of giving gifts, because they thought the old tradition of eating roast chicken while your loved ones each tell you a story, was too boring. Now poor people feel they have to give presents and most of the time, the birthday boy ends up disappointed because he wanted a villa just like Justin Bieber but instead gets some new Leafs pencils.

I hope at least some of this either made your day better or helped you to cheat on a test somehow. Just in case you are cheating, and it hasn't, here's some bonus material that may help:



Basketball Diaries starred Leo DiCaprio

> = greater than < = less than $ = no problems
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