Friday, March 31, 2006

most of these Canadian songs suck ass





Here are the worst offenders:

  • "Photograph" - Nickelback (I don't get it. Americans lap this shit up. In Canada, we hear it on radio because it's the fucking law.)
  • "Santa Monica" - Theory Of A Deadman
  • "On My Own" - Hedley
  • "When The Night Feels My Song" - Bedouin Soundclash (sucks SO hard)
  • "Bad Day" - Daniel Powter (AAAAUGH! Someone make it stop! Shake a jar of pennies at it!)
  • "Run" - Rex Goudie (does the term "fucktard" mean anything to you?)
  • "Single" - Kalan Porter (Canadian Idol needs to go away. Now.)
  • "Old Skool Love" - Divine Brown (Great. Not only are we recognizing stolen melodies, but also poor spelling.)


    previous rants about the machine of Canadian musical mediocrity:
  • Bed-o-win Sound-torture
  • I'm not the only one...

    I'm not alone:
  • craptastic.com
  • "I want to destroy Nickelback" - Kickass!
  • Thursday, March 30, 2006

    there's a reason I call it "barf cheese"

    Cheese is just carefully rotted milk. - Tornwordo, March 29 2006


    The gentleman from Montréal has a point. His musings yesterday made me remember this article, clipped from The Globe and Mail a few years ago, that I keep on my fridge with a magnet:





    I cannot stand pungent cheeses such as parmesan, romano, stilton, asiago, blue, feta, and chèvre. Their odours make me nauseous. And until I found this article, I was marginalized by my foodie friends.

    Hello! It smells like vomit, because it contains the same chemical found in human vomit! Butyric acid, folks!


    references:

  • The Globe and Mail
  • "Science that Stinks" from American Scientist Online
  • cheese 411
  • Wednesday, March 29, 2006

    Antonio... Antonio... Antonio...






    A display for this fancy cologne was in my local drugstore over Christmas:














    Now, I'm seeing this movie advertised:
















    [cringe]

    That's what I did when I saw those things. Also, kind of a miniature head-shake. Barely discernible. Then, a flashback to the early nineties: trying to secretly* tape Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! from a movie channel off my parents' satellite dish, because I heard he got naked in that movie. Flash-forward to the mid-nineties: Antonio as Miguel in Philadelphia, in dress whites.

    What happened, Antonio?

    I blame jLo.


    * secret taping--to avoid my mother's judgement. "What kind of degenerate filth is that?"

    Tuesday, March 28, 2006

    The Simpsons episode 3F06

    Just because...

  • it's a classic
  • I referred to it last week
  • I can't stop thinking about it


    Homer: "Damn you, Walt Whitman! I-hate-you-Walt-freakin'-Whitman! Leaves of Grass my ass!"

    Sgt Friday: "Are you sure this is the woman you saw in the post office?"
    Burns: "Absolutely! Who could forget such a monstrous visage? She has the sloping brow and cranial bumpage of the career criminal."
    Smithers: "Uh, Sir? Phrenology was dismissed as quackery 160 years ago."
    Burns: (measuring Smithers' head) "Of course you'd say that... you have the brainpan of a stagecoach tilter!"

    Just because... the show has been biting lately, hard. I watch out of loyalty--and end up disappointed or wandering off to do other things. I prefer to remember the good times.
  • Monday, March 27, 2006

    the "hotter with age" trio

    SEAN CONNERY



    He placed third in the 1953 Mr. Universe contest...






    GEORGE CLOONEY

    He was cute in his "Facts of Life" days, but I think he has never looked better than he did three weeks ago at the Oscars.




    DERMOT MULRONEY

    He's two years younger than George, and coming along very nicely. I was jolted by his new salt-and-pepper-hotness when he guest starred on Friends three years ago. To quote Lisa Kushell as one of the Parker sisters on Mad TV: "Do me! Do me now!"

    Thursday, March 23, 2006

    the Celexa taper-down continues

    This week, I switched to 5 mg from 10 mg. Yesterday, I bawled like a baby during the end of The Simpsons episode where Homer meets his mother (voiced by Glenn Close) only to have to say goodbye to her again when the authorities give chase...

    me = wreck

    I've also been sick with bronchitis. This scares me: what kind of bronchial bacteria sets up house in a body that has been taking amoxicillin for two weeks? (Answer: the kind that kicks your ass.)

    Monday, March 20, 2006

    Nuge again; protest music

    Ted Nugent approached Green Day recently and proposed a collaboration. Green Day apparently laughed in his face.

    Green Day has fascinated me since Dookie. Here was a band--arguably, the fathers of the genre I so fondly refer to as "nerd rock"--that revelled in their awkward dorkiness. These guys would have been beaten to a pulp when I was in high school, and that made me feel old. They seemed to reject the mainstream while chasing success.

    When American Idiot came out, I was again transfixed. Post-Dixie-Chicks (and "I'm not changing my fucking show*" Madonna, pansying out with the video for "American Life"), here was an album and a series of videos that had the huevos to address the perception of Americans abroad and question the war in Iraq itself ("Wake Me Up When September Ends"). In an era that is sadly lacking protest music, this was the closest thing I had seen or heard. (Hello? "Fortunate Son" by CCR, anyone? Anyone?)

    Of course, the caustic political climate in the United States today is enough to scare even the most rebellious of pop stars. In Madonna's case, I suspect it was more about money. (Note to Madge: American Life remains the only one of your albums I did not purchase. Yes, it was out of principle.) The safety of her children might have been part of it, but she does live in the UK, after all. The Dixie Chicks--some of them mothers as well--came through their ordeal smelling a little better. The inclusion of "Travelin' Soldier" on Home, and the innocuous (and now infamous) remark at a European concert was protest-y, and I respected them for it.

    So, thank you, Green Day, for giving Nuge a 'thanks but no thanks.' You guys might not be Bob Dylan, but you're a start.

    * Madge uttered this phrase in Truth or Dare. She was facing objections from the uptight Toronto police, who were threatening to arrest her for indecency if she faux-masturbated on stage for a concert in my city.

    Friday, March 17, 2006

    Eric




    Appreciate him in all his tall, rugged, masculine glory. APPRECIATE HIM! (Homer Simpson intonation)

    He has so taken over the #1 spot on my Top Ten List (forthcoming).

    Wednesday, March 15, 2006

    childhood gender nonconformity

    I watched Sunday's edition of Sixty Minutes with great interest. And, at the part with little Adam's painted fingernails, great anxiety.

    (My fellow cloggers, I tried for a couple of hours on Monday to get a nice screen-capture of said painted fingernails, but my computer just refused to cooperate. Go to malcontent; the b1tch b34t me to it.)

    Why the anxiety? Oh, I suppose it's the many successfully-suppressed memories from my childhood. Like pretending to be a girl with my female cousin. (Heck, I think there were plenty of times I was playing at that while all alone.) Somewhere, deep in a family photo album, I seem to remember a picture.

    Good Lord, why are there pictures?

    Thankfully, there are no pictures of me and a female family friend (Andrea) playing with Barbies and getting caught by her older brother. "You don't think he'll tell his friends*, do you, Andrea?" I asked.

    Other physical evidence exists. Like my handmade sock puppets. All female. With long yarn hair. There was a brunette, a blonde, and a redhead. (I hardly ever played with the redhead.) They're buried in a box somewhere.

    Yep. I pretty much screamed gay from a very early age.

    * many of whom would go on to be my future tormentors in high school

    Monday, March 13, 2006

    Commonwealth Day 2006


    I almost forgot. Today is Commonwealth Day. Click here for a message from HM Queen Elizabeth II. The theme this year is health and vitality, and it's refreshing to hear the Queen discuss the challenge facing hiv-positive citizens of the Commonwealth.

    The Commonwealth is a free association of 53 countries, comprising approximately 30 per cent of the world's population. Member nations include the UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India, South Africa, and Singapore. Click here for a graphical listing of Commonwealth nations by flag.

    here I am

    (A preface: no, I don't want Skylab to fall on my head today.)


    photo credit: NASA


    The images are from the Great Lakes Information Network, which I referenced in Friday's post. This second one depicts the major water diversions in the Great Lakes basin:


    Friday, March 10, 2006

    the mysterious melt-proof ice cubes

    When I was off work with my dislocated shoulder, I had a lot of time on my hands. One day in the kitchen, I noticed that the ice cubes in my refrigerator freezer were stale. Normally, I toss the old ice in the kitchen sink, wash the trays, refill with fresh water from my Brita, and freeze. But since I had already moved a container of homemade stew from the freezer to the fridge for thawing, I had an idea: put the ice cubes in the fridge, and let them melt there.

    Since I pay for the electricity in my apartment, I thought this made sense: try and recapture some of the energy that went into freezing the water. (Again, I was off work for five days, stuck in my apartment with the kind of sling that's not fun. The mind tends to wander.)

    I got a bowl, put the ice cubes in, and placed it in the fridge.

    The next day, my stew had thawed. But the ice cubes were still there. Slightly melted and 'glommed' together, but still ice.

    They didn't melt for four days. I took the bowl out and investigated. The cubes had melted a bit around the bottom, taking the shape of the bowl. There was a bit of water. I put the ice in the sink and washed the bowl. Experiment over.

    Although I don't have a fridge thermometer, the temperature setting must be about right. Even in the back of the fridge, items don't freeze. Why didn't the ice cubes melt? Maybe I should be scared of Toronto's water.

    Sometimes, I think of the cities "upriver" from Toronto in the Great Lakes watershed: Chicago*, Milwaukee, Detroit, Windsor, Cleveland, Buffalo. Add to that list the smaller cities--many with manufacturing/petrochemical refining/paper mill concerns (Duluth/Superior, Thunder Bay, Green Bay, Escanaba, Sault Ste. Marie, Sarnia, Toledo, Erie, Hamilton). A lot of wastewater is heading down to Lake Ontario, Toronto's water source.

    *Chicago diverts its wastewater out of the Great Lakes basin, and into the Mississippi watershed. I don't know whether to be relieved or concerned about this.

    Why didn't the ice cubes melt?

    links and resources:
    great-lakes.net
    diversions from the Great Lakes watershed
    shhh everything is fine!
    CBC series on the health of the lakes

    Wednesday, March 08, 2006

    insomnia; CatScratchFever

    I was asleep earlier tonight, but my brain rebooted and I've been up for three hours. I'm now waiting for the Ativan to kick in.

    Today (Tuesday) was the shrink visit I referred to in last week's post. I adore my psychiatrist--he is beyond supportive. We decided on option B: discontinuing anti-depressants for a while, and having a look at my life with a clear head... without the Celexa cancelling out the noise. I think I need to hear the noise.

    And yes, I was truthful about my Skylab-falling-on-head fantasies.

    So I'm tapering off the dosage and should be SSRI-free by the end of March.

    I was in the hospital again on Monday, with a swollen left hand and a low-grade fever. My grouchy cat had taken a swipe at me a few days earlier and apparently infected my hand. It had become extremely sore, and I couldn't close my hand, make a fist, or type. Goddamned cat. I'm on amoxicillin + clavulanic acid for two weeks. Five pills later and the swelling is almost gone.

    A note to my brother: yes, Nuge's song "Cat Scratch Fever" is about pussy and the clap. But there really is such a thing as cat scratch fever. I don't have it, since my scratch site didn't have "pustules" (gross). But in the opening lyrics to the song, Nuge sings about getting it when he was 10 years old.

    Oh, wait. He might have been talking about snatch at that point, too.

    Monday, March 06, 2006

    Oscar 78: I Heart Jon Stewart

    Quote of the night:

    "36 Mafia: one Oscar. Martin Scorcese: zero Oscars."

    Word.

    Saturday, March 04, 2006

    R.I.P. Chubba Butters

    Dude, I don't know what the fuck's goin' on over at your place, but in the last day or so you've morphed into "Chance LaFriend" and when I clicked on you I saw a pierced noony.

    I sincerely appreciated "I have serious fucking problems and I hate you." And, "just keep complaining until your dreams come true." And, "they killed a retard on the bus [...] there goes reality, Jack."

    Brilliant 21st century poetry, replaced by labia flaps.

    But, in the last 12h or so, you've redeemed yourself. Chance LaFriend seems to be back to its urban, disaffected roots.

    You said you wuz getting tired of having your cover blown. Dude, if that was true, why did you keep your url?

    And I quote:

    He was my North, my South, my East and West,
    My working week and my Sunday rest,
    My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
    I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.


    -W.H.Auden

    This drunkhighfag has got you on watch.

    Thursday, March 02, 2006