I Heart Overcompensating

This is a great comic strip. The subtitle of it is: "100% true tales froma mansion in a swamp."



There are little write-ups that go with every comic. Here's the one for this.

"Support our troops as hard as you possibly can. This weekend I am going to sit in a room and support our troops with all my might. Have a weekend to remember (but only if what you remember is how effectively you have supported our troops)."

Oh my Lego God.

Want to see something completely fucked up out of this world?

Get this: The Lego Bible. The Brick Testament. The entire Bible, verse for verse made into Lego scenes.


Genesis 19:5.


Genesis 2:19-20.


Mark 15:34, Luke 23:46


Luke 4:13.

*Satan looks like Severus Snape
**Note the pteradactyl in the second picture.

I'm onto them...

VISA, those crafty buggers are trying to tempt me with this:



Why they think I should have another one, I don't know. Why they pre-approved me, even though I'm having a titty-twister of a time paying the one I have already off, I don't know. Why Guglielmo Marconi claimed responibility for the invention of radio when Nikolai Tesla contributed more significant research, I don't know.

I have given them absolutly no reason to believe that I'm responsible or reliable. The only conclusion I can come to is they really like charging me interest.

But I'm sick of being in debt. Maybe I should get Bono to hold a rock festival and the proceeds could go to my OSAP loan and VISA payments.

"Yah. Zat vill be gud."

I probably would have liked to be at this show

Performing Chekhov's "The Seagull" in Central Park with the following people in the cast:

Meryl Streep
Kevin Kline
Christopher Walken
John Goodman
Marcia Gay Harden
Phillip Seymour Hoffman
Natalie Portman



That Chekhov was one sly em-effer.

Hardly Hamlet

Things aren't going so well for your intrepid narrator. I'm suffering from a severe bout of self-pity following a crappy day yesterday. Here's the rundown in the hopes that I can exorcise my demons and feel a bit better after "letting it out."

-The horrible volunteer at the gallery who thinks she runs the place. I seriously, literally loathe this woman. I know that I shouldn't let her get to me, but the thing is that she's not trying to get to me. She just is this way. She honestly believes that if she doesn't like the way my desk is set up it is her duty to report to my boss that I'm not being efficient, and then set about rearranging everything while I'm sitting right there. Or to tell me that "we" (who is this "we"?) need to make a sign for the bathroom door that says "Please watch your step" and then to proceed to write out "Please watch your step" on a piece of paper so I'll know what to put on the sign which we don't need in the first place. I have never felt so agitated by the presence of a single person before in my life.

-I worked at the bingo hall on Sunday, and in the office was the head caller, my boss basically. So the night passes as any other night. I go into work last night and there's a notice to all callers dated Monday, the day after I was in. It's a list of things that we shouldn't be doing. More appropriately, it's a nit-picking list of everything I did on Sunday night. I don't care about feedback. I really don't. But have the grapes at least to tell me on the night rather than posting a thinly-veiled list of so-called "constructive criticism."

-Added to this is that the head caller, who also happens to do the scheduling has me working all Thanksgiving weekend. Every day, including the holiday Monday. And guess who isn't scheduled at all that weekend? The head caller who happens to do the scheduling. Added to this is the irritation that I'm working so much because I haven't been there long enough to qualify for time-and-a-half on holidays. Everyone else working that weekend will be compensated, but not me. So I'll be not visiting my family and spending (I think) a well-deserved bit of time off, to instead get shit from old ladies for announcing randomly ordered numbers and not even recieving recompense for it.

-To top it all off I had to walk home in the rain last night. I'm trying to think positive, but I think it made me sick. But that could also be the effects of sleeping through my alarm and not having had anything to eat today.

Well... I don't really feel any better. but at least I don't have to do anything tonight besides homework, which I kind of like these days anyway. Chekhov is tickling my fancy in a big way. Plus we share the same birthday. Anyone who can tell me that day gets a prize.

And to cap it off, a funny picture:

The most horrifying, blood-chilling, heart-stopping thing said to me all day.

"Can you come in tomorrow night to help Val and Tamara set up?"

2:39 pm.

This seems like a really good idea right now.

Sweet, delicious irony

BAM! First essay of the year is done! In the freakin' bag! And now, appropriately, I'm going to have a KitKat.

I feel happy like this guy feels cold!

Whoa!

I was listening to the CD that Natty-Pants made for me while I was driving home today, and it's a good thing that I was stopped at a red light when this weirdness occurred.

The song "Walking With A Ghost" by Tegan & Sara started playing. This is on a CD which was made for me not 2 days before I went to see the White Stripes who covered it. I knew I recognized it from somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on it!

So now the question becomes this; Natalie, are you a witch?

****UNRELATED THOUGHT ALERT!****

I just ate an Aero Caramel. My teeth are screaming at me. Never eat Aero Caramels. Ever. They are Satan. Whoever came up with that idea needs to be fired.

Out of a cannon.

Into the sun.

Here they are!

Weeee! This is Fun-uh!

1) Natalie requested "a glimpse of the view your bedroom window provides."



2)And "as a backup, how about a picture of your most prized possession?"


That's right... a grown man's prize possession is his girlfriend's teddy bear. I don't care what anyone says, M'Bear is pure gold and has more personality than some people I know. He's one of the only things that Nora hasn't tried to turn into a chew toy, which is fortunate beyond compare. I might have put down Nora as my most prized possesion but I like to think that she lives with me by choice.

3) Angelo requests "a picture of the writing devices situated around your desk. (Why not?)."


Let the good times roll!

p.s. Essay? What essay? I don't have any essays due on Thursday. Dum de dum dum dum...

Stop! Theif!

Well, I saw what fun it was on Natty-Pants's....'s's....ssss.... site, so I want to steal her idea!

Drawback.... I don't have a digital camera.... Or film for my regular camera..... But I do have a low-rez webcam! So I can take pictures of things in my bedroom and around my desk, and if you want to see things like that, let me know and I'll take a picture of it. Good times!

I want to get a digital camera... but I don't want to pay for one. So someone needs to give me one or help me rob future shop. Who's in?

Isn't this a great picture?

Too lazy to make 2 separate posts.

1) My iPod fund is now at a staggering $200! I'm well on my way!

2) This is Splat the Raccoon.



Splat has an inner ear problem, so he needs to stay close to the ground at all times. Poor little devil doesn't have a tail to help him balance because he "lost it in a fall." Splat likes Limozeen and when people are nice to him.

It's about that time again

Time for another stream of consciousness photo minogle! This time with captions for added enjoyment! Why, you ask? Because I don't want to be at work doing homework. That's like meta-work, and I'm not up for it.


I don't usually post pictures of real people, but I like this one.


"Apart from that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the show?"


Second from the right.... recognize him?


How about now?


War is bad. Painting is good!


Didn't believe me, did you?


Although.....


This is what you get when you type "although" into google images. Somehow I'm not surprised.


I made this one a link so you can actually read the results... I wonder if it's true.


Let's try an experiment and see how long it takes to get this page taken down and me thrown in jail. Ahem.... "TERROR IS GOOD!"


Now THAT'S terrifying!


I'd like to see a giant squid... in the same way that I'd like to see a demon shepherding the damned into the mouth of hell.


In case you're tired and want to sit down. Incidently, this also comes up when you type in "hellmouth."


Stick people are so helpful.



I don't trust Jimmy as far as he can throw me.


um.... I.... uh... Yeah, this seems like a good place to end.

More Free Writing

And why is it free? CAUSE YOU SURE AS HELL AIN'T PAYIN' FOR IT!

Here we go!

====================================

"In your own words."

"My own- Yeah, ok.... well, it went like this. I mean, I think it did.

"I went to the washroom cause I had to piss. I got in there and I was reeling. I had to lean against the wall just to use the urinal. So I look down into the bowl and in there is a fly, so I aim for it. But the fucking thing won't die. It doesn't even move! So I keep trying. And I know I was messed up, but I was hitting the thing! No doubt about it!
"But I'm emptied out, so I go back out to the bar and I tell all this to the bartender. And he laughs. He tells me that the fly is etched onto the bowl because when people see a fly in a urinal they aim for it automatically and it means that he doesn't have to clean up piss off the floor and wall. He says he's got the cleanest washrooms in town!
"And I start getting all mad, thinking that he cheated me, that he's been playing with my mind. And I burn his bar down!"

There was a long pause; a silence broken only by the slow swoosh of the ceiling fan. A fly buzzed under the convict's nose and he brushed it away. The attorney was sitting on the edge of his desk wearing a grey suit. The sunlight shining through the vertical blinds made a striped pattern on his folded arms while simultaneously revealing just how dusty the office was. At length he shifted his position, placing his hands palm to palm under his nose as though he was praying.

"You realize," he began slowly, "that this is a very difficult position to defend."

"What the fuck?"

"Please don't swear."

"Sorry," said the convict, shifting on the small couch. It was cream coloured and slightly lumpy.

"What my position is... is that you want me to defend you in court against a very serious charge. A charge of arson. And one that you openly admit to committing. But you don't want to go to jail for it. I'm afraid," said the attorney, removing his glasses, "that it simply isn't possible."

"I'll burn down your office!" shouted the convict jumping out of his seat.

"Sit down," said the attorney. After a moment he added "please" and the convict sat down.

The fly settled on the green fern behind the attorney's desk. It rubbed it's legs together and stretched it's wings.

"I am your court appointed attorney. But that does not mean that I cannot refuse to represent you. So if you want me to work for you there are some hard facts that you are going to have to accept. The first is that you will go to prison."

The convict squirmed uncomfortably.

"The second," continued the attorney, "is that you will get a reduced sentence if you admit to the judge that you are guilty. Claiming innocence will only anger the judge because he will think that you've tried to put on over on him when it comes out that you are guilty."

"But I'm not guilty!"

"Did you burn down the bar?"

"You're fucking right I did!"

"Then you ARE guilty. I'm not sure how to make this any plainer. It's against the law to commit arson."

"Then the laws should be changed," said the convict in a small voice, picking some skin off of his finger.

"Well, they aren't going to be," sighed the attorney. He had a long day ahead and already had a long day behind. What he wanted more than anything was to sit down and eat a tuna sandwich.

The fly attempted to exit the room through the window, but it had been shut.

"Can I get insanity?"

"Do you know what that entails?"

"En-?"

"Means."

"..."

The attorney sighed again. "It means that you'll have to submit to a psychological examination, and if you do get your sentence reduced to insanity you'll have to spend a very long time in a hospital."

"Hospitals are easier to get out of than jails," said the convict absentmindedly, chewing a fingernail and watching the fly.

The attorney looked at the convict. Had he really just said that?

"Are you telling me that you want me to argue your case to an insanity plea so that you can escape more easily?"

"If you call security right now, I'll burn down your office."

====================================

That's it. It was inspired by this:



I havn't even read it over, and I don't think I will. Sorry for spelling errors.

Well, I don't usually kiss and tell, but...

...the Captain has run over to me, shouted "Yyaaaarrrrr!" and tagged me with his hook hand, so I feel obligated to fill out my final minutes complying with his requst, thus; (Hey Erica, did I use that semi-colon correctly?)

"THE RULES: List five songs that you are currently loving. It doesn't matter what genre they are from, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artists, and the songs in your blog. Then tag five other friends to see what they're listening to."

1. Let's Shake Hands - The White Stripes
2. Walking With a Ghost - Tegan & Sara
3. Stephanie Says - The Velvet Underground
4. Gong - Sigur Ros
5. Upward Over the Mountain - Iron & Wine

And with my dying breath I tag Jenny, Jay, Liz, Hooper, and..... I don't think there's anyone else. That's only four. Crap. Now the Captain is going to haunt my dreams.

Exorcises, exorcises, I must do my exorcises.

I just got thrown out of the Brenda Wallace room in a manner which fills me with the need to vent my spleen on all you poor unsuspecting and undeserving masses (who I'm pretty sure may only exist in my head).

I was the only one in the room and I was reading Chekhov's The Black Monk, when a perky woman came in and started moving the furniture around. At first I was irritated because she was wearing really loud shoes, but I just turned up my volume and ignored her. After about ten minutes she came over to my chair and tapped me on the shoulder (what I felt was just slightly too hard, and one time too many to get my attention).

"You'll have to leave now," says she to me.

"Excuse me?" says me to she.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Why?"

"There's a meeting going on in here right now. There was a sign about it on the door."

"There wasn't a sign when I came in."

"Well, you're going to have to go somewhere else now. The meeting is about to start."

I glance around, and indeed there is a table set up with sandwiches and the room has been converted from a quiet place to read into a loud place to meet. This is most inconvenient because there's nowhere else to read in this place where I won't be bothered. So I mutter something about this being a "pain in the ass" as I gather my things. She overhears me and responds that I have to respect the fact that meetings are held in that room, and this is not an irregular occurance, condecension oozing out of every pore in her body. So I tell her that she needs to respect the fact that I don't enjoy being thrown out of a place like I'm a troublemaker and being told that I'm "going to have to leave now." I felt like a drunk who stays past closing time, irritating the customers and fondling the women.

Have your meetings, I don't care. But don't patronizingly eject me from my peaceful sanctum.

There. My spleen is aired out and I feel better.

Good mornin', good MORNIN', It's great to stay up late...

Dear Jerks of the World,

One day us kind, decent folk will rise above your narrow-minded pessimism to emerge as the dominant people in a new, brighter future where no one cares if someone parks their car where you usually park yours because, in the end it's not that big of a deal, nor is it something to get all worked up about.

Signed,
Your Intrepid Narrator.
Prime Minister of the newly formed "Just relax for god's sake" Foundation.

================================

I'm pretty tired. But I have discovered the goldmine, nay, the diamond mine that is the Brenda Wallace reading room. Last year I could never take advantage of said room because there was never a place to sit when I got there. But my schedule this year allows me to get there before the rush and blissfully stretch my legs out and sink into one of the comfiest chairs on campus. Naps are par for the course. I used to feel bad about it, until I saw that some people went in there exclusively to nap, and now I am among them. I think with just a minimal effort, we could make the place look like this:



Huzzah! Off to another sleepy day where I try to stay awake and interested. It's actually not going too badly so far! Wish me good fortune!

P.S. Does anyone remember this?



I still kind of want one.

Guess who'll be groggy tomorrow!

God bless you whitestripes.net.

Here I was "jonesing" (as I'm told the kids say these days) for some more White Stripes and the good internet hath provided! I have an 8:30 class in the morning, but this seems much more important. Hmmm.... bed vs. new White Stripes concert. You decide!

p.s. General apology to the anonymous masses who choose to read this. I will be going on about the Stripes for a few days pretty much non-stop. I'm still really excited by it. I just may wear my new White Stripes t-shirt to school tomorrow, accompanied by my new Blue Man group jacket, as though to say "Look at me! I saw the whites in these people's eyes this weekend!" and also to alienate people and make them hate me.

p.p.s. If you want the concert yourself, go to the above link. Here's the setlist:

01. Dead Leaves And The Dirty Ground
02. Blue Orchid
03. I Think I Smell A Rat/Passive Manipulation/Music Man
04. Let's Shake Hands
05. The Nurse
06. Hotel Yorba
07. Jolene
08. Ball And Biscuit (1st verse)
09. My Doorbell
10. Cannon/Broken Bricks/Cool Drink Of Water/Ball And Biscuit
11. Passive Manipulation
12. The Same Boy You've Always Known
13. The Hardest Button To Button
14. We're Going To Be Friends
15. Little Ghost
16. Death Letter/Passive Manipulation
17. I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself
18. Screwdriver
19. Seven Nation Army

Decades ahead of his time.

I'm sorry, but I don't want to be an emperor. That's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible; Jew, Gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone, and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge as made us cynical; our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The airplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men; cries out for universal brotherhood; for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women, and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me, I say, do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish. Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you, enslave you; who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel! Who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men - machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines, you are not cattle, you are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts! You don't hate! Only the unloved hate; the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers! Don't fight for slavery! Fight for liberty! In the seventeenth chapter of St. Luke, it is written that the kingdom of God is within man, not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you! You, the people, have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy, let us use that power. Let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give youth a future and old age a security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power. But they lie! They do not fulfill that promise. They never will! Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfill that promise. Let us fight to free the world! To do away with national barriers! To do away with greed, with hate and intolerance! Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness. Soldiers, in the name of democracy, let us all unite! Hannah, can you hear me? Wherever you are, look up Hannah! The clouds are lifting! The sun is breaking through! We are coming out of the darkness into the light! We are coming into a new world; a kindlier world, where men will rise above their hate, their greed, and brutality. Look up, Hannah! The soul of man has been given wings and at last he is beginning to fly. He is flying into the rainbow! Into the light of hope, into the future! The glorious future, that belongs to you, to me and to all of us. Look up, Hannah. Look up!

- Excerpt from The Great Dictator by Charlie Chaplin

If this were a movie, it'd be rated "ARRRRR"

Happy "Talk Like a Pirate" Day!

I think that we should all DEMAND a new aquatic misadventure from everyone's favourite pirate, Captain Lovejones, MD.


YYYYYYAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!!!!!

Cutest Moment of the Night

I just found this picture from the show on Friday.



***UPDATE***

The mystery song from the show was an amped up cover of "Walking With A Ghost" by Tegan and Sara. If you want to hear the original, go here. Then imagine that Jack is howling "Out of my mind" over and over while Meg smashes at her kit and tosses her hair back.

The Weekend Report!

Hello!

So, I don't know if you know, but I was in Toronto for a couple of days.

Alright, fuck being coy. The White Stripes knocked my socks off! It seems that I was good and ate my veggies because they played almost every song I wanted them to, including both "Passive Manipulation" and "In The Cold, Cold Night." Here's a list of highlights:

• The Greenhornes were a great opening band. Very talented. Jenny & I led their cheering section.
  
• A guy telling Jenny & I that we "looked fuckin' sharp." We dressed up; Jenny in a red and white striped shirt, red pants, black and white striped socks, and black and white wristbands; myself in black pants and shirt with a red tie and handkerchief in the pocket, secured with a Meg pin, and a red, white, and black wristband.
  
• Meg's red and white timpanis'.
  
• The roadies who all wore black suits with red ties and swingin' hats with red feathers.
  
• The roadies who had to stand on tippy-toes to be able to test Jack's microphones.
  
• Jack's frenetic energy which was evident from the second he walked on stage.
  
• Meg's adorable Panda slippers.
  
• The songs. Good God, the songs!
  
• Jack's toreador suit, featuring an awesome Zorro hat, and tight, tight pants.
  
• Meg rolling her eyes when she missed a note in "In the Cold, Cold Night."
  
• Meg playing the bongos during "As Ugly as I Seem" while sitting cross legged on the stage at Jack's feet.
  
• Jack kneeling on the floor and singing the last verse of the song just to her.
  
• Being so close that I could hear him without a microphone.
  
• The look of sheer enjoyment on Jack's face as the crowd sang along to "We're Going To Be Friends."
  
• All the stage talk going on between the two. So much communication, so little said.
  
• Jack spitting everywhere. No wonder Meg had a towel.
  
• Jack going behind Meg's kit to sing over her shoulder.
  
• Jack not caring that he was throwing expensive microphones and stands around.
  
• The roadies who would politely come out and reset anything that was knocked over.
  
• Seeing the sweat fly.
  
• The mirror on Jack's piano so that he could still see Meg, even though his back was to her.
  
• After "In the Cold, Cold Night, Jack suggesting that Meg do a solo Canadian tour.
  
• How Jack took a hit off an asthma inhaler about 6 songs in.
  
• Hearing (not through the speakers) Jack scream "FASTER!" during the chorus of "Hotel Yorba" to Meg.
  
• The way it was both tight and seemed completely improvised at once.
  
• Meg putting her hand on her hip whenever she wasn't using it.
  
• The mystery song that they played.
  
• This one is particularly cool, so it gets bolded: At the beginning of "Death Letter" Jack noodling around on his guitar while slowly making eye contact with many people in the audience. As he came to me, someone shouted "You're the Devil!" and (still keeping eye contact with me) he nodded very slightly.
  
• This:
  

I don't know if you can tell from the crappy picture, but I am now the proud owner of one of Meg White's drumsticks! She touched it, and now I own it! And I know that's a stupid thing to be proud of, but I still am!!

But... there's always a but.

I got robbed. As soon as I got my mitts on the stick, some guy grabbed $65 out of my pocket. Our conversation went like this:

Me: Hey!
He: I'll give you this back if you give me the stick.
Me: Just give it back.
He: Give me the stick, and you can have your money back.
Me: Go FUCK YOURSELF! (To beefy security guard) Hey! He stole my money!

But he ran off. Son of a bitch almost soured the moment. But then I reminded myself that I had one of Meg's drumsticks. And I still do! It was attempted to be stolen from me once more on the way out, and some guy offered my "five grams" for it, so I stick it up my.......... shirt sleeve and inconspicuoulsy made my way out.

Aside from that, there were only a couple of downers, which you will find following this sentence.

This scentence that I'm writing.

Right now.

"PERIOD!"

• Jerks who push. I'm not ashamed to say that I threw a couple of elbows.
  
• The guy who, before the show started, smoked the most enormous, foul smelling joint I've ever seen right behind me and blowing the smoke at Jenny and I.
  
• Poor Jenny feeling a little sick after the show.
  
• Because of where we were standing, for a lot of the show Meg looked like this.
  

I think that was it. It was so amazing to see them. They had the entire place sold out and on their feet for the entire show. At the end they said that they hadn't played to a crowd that excited since they were in Brazil, and "that was saying something."

I wanted to post the setlist, but I can't find it online, so I'll just give you what I can remember in no particular order and replace it with the real deal when I can find it. The first few are in order.

• When I Hear My Name
  
• Blue Orchid
  
• Passive Manipulation
  
• Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground (played on guitar and piano)
  
• My Doorbell
  
• Cannon/John the Revelator
  
• Forever for Her (Is Over for Me)
  
• The Nurse
  
• Ball & Biscuit/Instinct Blues
  
• Death Letter
  
• Jolene (with extended "tuning up" intro)
  
• Seven Nation Army
  
• ???***MYSTERY SONG***??? (a cover, but I don't know of what.)
  
• Let's Shake Hands
  
• Hardest Button to Button
  
• Black Math
  
• In the Cold, Cold Night
  
• Look Me Over Closely
  
• Hello Operator
  
• You're Pretty Good Looking (For a Girl)
  
• Hotel Yorba
  
• The Denial Twist
  
• Red Rain
  
• As Ugly as I Seem
  
• We're Going to be Friends
  
• Do (A personal favourite)
  
• The Union Forever
  
• Boll Weevil (Which I heard they only play after a really good show, so this was great)
  

What an amazing show. I keep wonder if (providing I have grandkids) my grandkids will be impressed that I saw the White Stripes live. I know I would be!


I love these guys.

Today's the day!

Today it's this!



Tomorrow it's this!



Now where did I put those tickets?

Ha ha, just kidding, they're not leaving my sight for the next twelve hours. Seriously. I'm going to stare at them for twelve hours until my eyes look like this:

The walk home

This evening on the way home from work I did something really stupid in hindsight, but still really cool.

A raccoon ate a french fry out of my hand! It even gripped my finger with it's little hand! (Squeal!)

Then I saw a frog and touched it's leg a couple of times while it looked warily at me.



Henceforth, I shall be referred to as "Andrew Animal-friend."

Lessons learned today

1) I need a hole puncher.

2) Visiting a site titled "Angelo's house of pain" in the computer lab will get you some strange looks, especially when it won't load beyond the title.

3) Natalie's voice sounds different than I thought it would. Don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that! Hmm, that makes it sound like she has a strange sounding voice. It isn't strange at all, just different that I thought it might be.

4) Charlie Chaplin is funny. I actually learned this yesterday.

5) My Shakespeare teacher looks like Napoleon Dynamite. I don't know if I'm going to be able to concentrate in that class anymore.

==============================

I took this picture with the webcam the other day. I like it a lot.

Woot!

Whew! And I was starting to get nervous.....

Andrew likes his friends

Andrew has made a CD.

Andrew likes his friends a lot.

Andrew has some time to go out tomorrow and buy some blank CD's.

Andrew, in his modesty, thinks this CD kicks some major ass.

The CD features artists such as The Shins, Radiohead, The Killers, The Flaming Lips, Bjork, Tori Amos, The Raveonettes, and others.

Andrew would like to force his musical tastes on his friends.

Therefore: let me know if you want one of these and I will endeavor to get it to you! In fact, for each person who responds I will include a personalised track, just because you are a beautiful and unique snowflake. Also I like making CD's for people.

I just bloody knew it...

Well, as Elton John once said.... the bitch is back.

That's right, exactly 15 minutes after I run around like a chicken with its head cut off, Nora prances back into the parking lot, pretty as can be.

To commemorate, I took this picture.



Goofy girl who's never going outside without a triple secured collar again. If she ever runs away again, remind me not to talk to my well meaning, though completely agitating neighbor who told me that two of his previous dogs were killed by wolves and foxes in those woods.

Enormous sigh of relief

So who wants to hang out tonight?

Trying not to panic

Nora has run away. She's been gone about 3 hours which is way longer than usual when she goes into the woods behind my place. I've called the SPCA and Sudbury animal control and told work that I can't come in tonight, and now I'm quietly trying not to freak right out of my skull.

If anyone sees her (though I don't know why you would) please call me at 669-1745.

The first blow has been struck

Terry Gilliam
c/o Jenne Casarotto
National House
60-66 Wardour St.
London W1V 4ND
UK

Dear Mr. Gilliam,

I am writing on the absurd premise that you might actually read this letter, but hey, we all have our delusions, don’t we? I’ll understand if an employee doesn’t pass this on and I get a “Mr. Gilliam doesn’t have time for this sort of thing” form in return. It must happen all the time (resigned shrug).
I had read recently that there had been the possibility of bringing Good Omens to the big screen, and I was thrilled by the idea! Besides, who in their right minds wouldn’t want to see Johnny Depp as a demon and Robin Williams as an angel? When I heard about the projects lack of funding I was completely dumbfounded. How could they not want (need!) to make this film?
Well, my friends and I are writing to let you know that you’ve got the support of a few random crackpots in Northern Ontario who (for the six seconds of film it might buy you) could probably put up 75 bucks if you want it. Now before you get down on your knees and thank God on High for such generous benefactors just know that that amount is pending all of us being able to afford rent and food for next month. I’m sure we’ll be able to scrape it together. Just let us know. We really think you’d be good for this film.
And as long as you’re reading this (because I’m positive that it hasn’t just been thrown on a recycling pile. You wouldn’t do that! Heh…heh…heh….sigh…) may as well throw out there that we’re all pretty disgusted by how the execs have been forcing themselves on your films. I want to go see a Terry Gilliam film, not a Terry Gilliam/some producer suit film! We’re behind you! Power to the Picture-maker! (Not a very good slogan, but alliteration is fun.)
So to sum up; Yay Good Omens! Boo meddling execs! Yay 75-odd dollars! (Oh wait… it’s in Canadian dollars. Crud. Well, maybe you can pay for your parking meter when you need to stop for coffee or something. Dang. I hadn’t thought of that.)
Well, that’ll be that. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.

Sincerely,
Andrew Root
Newly Self-Appointed
Prime-Minister of the “Save Good Omens” Foundation,
which I just made up, just now.

Still wasting time

I usually only post with this frequency when I'm at work, but here I am at home with a pile of reading that isn't getting done. I'm in that awkward place of not wanting to do the work, but feeling guilty because it really needs getting done. Maybe I'll feel motivated if I go wash some dishes. And while I'm washing dishes, I can put on "Under Blackpool Lights" and think to myself... only 5 more days until I'm staring up at Jack White's magic fingers and Meg White's charmingly cavegirl style drumming.

Can

Not

Wait.

I've got a date with this lady:

And if I'm wasting all my ti-ee-yime!!!

Tarnation, do the "Arcade Fire" ever rule. I'm on a listening tirade. First "Funerals", then Star's "Set yourself on fire," then back again...

I'm doing this all so that the reading I'm supposed to be doing magically disappears! Hey! It's working!



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