Currylingus

Everybody's talkin' at me
I don't hear a word they're sayin'
only the echoes of my mind

The time is neigh, my friends, I'm having a real hard time piecing sentences together. Work has been taken care of, extra luggage purchases have been cancelled, a bit of shopping remains, and I got a nice haircut. From a French lad named Fabien.

I discovered Fabien in Febuary of this year by complete accident. I had run into the local salon beating my chest, "Haircut! I'm in bad need of a haircut, save me!". This is unusual for me as I am quite comfortable remaining unshorn for many months. However, this just means I let it all grow long and it gets everywhere. There's even a phenomenon named after my hair, it's called 'Ney-hair'. Ney-hair is a really long, dark, strand of hair that is not attached to a head. Its natural habitat is everywhere. In food, drink, books, floors, tubs, couches, people, even INSIDE the compu box. Very tough thing to deal with, oh the countless looks of disgust I have suffered, "UGH. Ney-hair!". I tried to explain, I'm not going bald, humans naturally shed hundreds of strands of hair everyday, mine is more noticeable because it's long and dark. But their eyes, their eyes would roll. And so, I decided to keep it cut.

Fabien, fresh off the flight from Paris, barely speaking two words of English, that Fabien gave me a haircut like I never thought possible, without even understanding all my babble about bangs and texture. This past Saturday, I got up with the sole ambition of going to Fabien to pamper myself with a cut and maybe even a colour. I booked my appointment and pranced towards it with ears full of ADA and a heart full of hope. His English has gotten a lot better and we even bonded over the only things I know about France: Air, Daft Punk, Wine, Cheese, Le Pen, Chirac, Fashion. I didn't really understand everything he was saying, the feeling was mutual I'm sure. But what a haircut.

It was of a curious type. Instead of washing my hair first, he blowdryed it. Then, without any comb aids, went breserker. Chop chop chop, large chunks of hair falling to the ground. It felt good. I ended up looking like a futuristic Neha with funky razor sharp hair angles. I would've kept this look had Fabien not pushed me back into the chair with much authori-tay and screamed "Texturrrize!!!". Ooo Wee, the man kept me there for three whole hours. I shit you not, three hours, and I really don't have THAT much hair. While he texturized he poured out his immigrant woes of not having too many friends due to language barriers, working too much, missing the family and so on. Told me about how he wanted to study and go to university and his school counsellor convinced his parents that he was no good for anything except "manual labour". I wonder if he meant something else because cutting hair is not exactly manual labour, to me at least.

On our first encounter, I also had the chance to meet two of his best buddies who had come by to visit. And. They. Were. Flaming. I mean really, flaming, that is. These chaps were wearing the hottest and craziest couture outfits I have ever seen on a man (off the runway). They were slapping male asses (including Fabiens') and cat calling every tweezed dude in the house. It's not like I made a conscious decision to label Fabien in my head. It just...Happened. And it happened all wrong.

I only became fully aware of the shame I had brought upon my supposed open-mindedness when the desi stylist next to us half-jokingly said, "Hey, do you know any ladies that are into French guys? I'm trying to find our man a mate!". By this time, Fabien had gone out of his way to give my pauper ass a princess do, bought me some amazing non-Starfucks coffee, massaged my head in a divine manner (normally reserved for extensive makeover-type spa people), given me highlights, delayed all following clients, and did I mention he had poured his little heart out to me in the hope that my dumb self would see this as an offering of sweet interest.

The desi guy also noted that Fabien used to be an apprentice to one of the finest 'hair artists' in the city of Paris. So, of course, he could have cut the 2 inches off my hair, textured the length, highlighted, washed, and blowdryed it in about 50 minutes flat. I was there three hours. I left feeling like a pimp. Though I didn't behave any differently towards him, didn't lead him on, just yammered on like my usual self, I couldn't help feeling like I had somehow deceived him. Stabbed a jagged knife through his innocent daydream. Acted like a bigass hypocrite for having sized him so causally, so incorrectly.

This whole deal probably reads like a bigger deal than it is, I'm sure Fabien is still very much alive and well and macking it up hardcore. And me, I'm just surprised at myself. I, who have never been into deducing lifestyle traits based on peripheral characteristics, have finally succumbed to two gay friends and a profession in follicle-care. Pride before the fall?

Such is life and life will not be as such from here on. Lesson learned.

Fuck. It's Thursday, tomorrow's Canada Day, I've got 15 messages on the mobile, too many people to see. You'd think I was being shipped to Siberia. Two. More. Days. Till. Home.

P.S. I've stopped telling the Texans I work with where exactly home is, the one person I did tell freaked right out and said, "Neha, Ah've never heard of no Doo-baai, so you just take cayre and stays away from any crazies, ya hear?" Yeah, I hear ya, crazy, I hear ya.

PRIDE!




This past Sunday marked the finale of Pride week and in TO that meant no less than 1,000,000 people coming together to voice a collective "fuck you" to ignorance. Well, not really, it was a much happier "fuck you". Rainbow babies, old dudes in assless leather chaps, beautifully costumed transsexuals, first generation immigrant families, cute caucasian grandmothers, young hellians, and then some, made for a crowd like none I've seen. I liked it better than 2004, mostly because I made it to the Funkasia stage with DJ Zahra who is a class in inspiration. Lawyer by day, DJ by night, magnanimous through and through.

Darth's chikna ('smooth-faced') self was getting a whole lotta attention. Whilst myself and Rajbo strolled and randomly slapped each other's asses because it was totally kosher to do so. My Flickr's been updated with the lates. The Labatt vessesls are just a prop. Ha. Sadly, I used up all my free space for this month so I'm going to have to wait till the 1st to post the rest of the nekkid pics...will get a pro account when I turn pro.

Seriously, I can't stress what a good time Pride is. It's really the best street party of the summer here. And by street I don't mean some shadowy side-street, I mean Yonge Street, smack downtown, in the middle of it all. I couldn't be happier writing that this 25th anniversary was fully about acceptance, not simply tolerance. In Canada, we are getting very close to passing a marriage ammendment, the MPs are even cutting their longass summer vacations short to resolve the issue. *gasp* Like a bunch of babies, those MPs, "waaaaaa, but I don't WANNA work during the summer!".

All in all, if you're ever in this part of the Americas during Pride Week then don't be a Stephen Harper...and do visit the Pride Parade.

"Hi, this site is all about ninjas, REAL NINJAS. This site is awesome. My name is Robert and I can't stop thinking about ninjas. These guys are cool; and by cool, I mean totally sweet."
- Official Ninja Webpage, via Sploid.

What more is left to say? The hatemail page is huge bonus.

I wasn't planning on desecrating this precious space of mine with a TomKat reference but the following picutre has left me with no choice:


Cruise's Today Show transcript, the illustrated version, via Defamer.

Money quote:

"No, you see. Here's the problem. You don't know the history of psychiatry. I do... The thing that I'm saying about Brooke is that there's misinformation, okay. And she doesn't understand the history of psychiatry. She-- she doesn't understand in the same way that you don't understand it, Matt."

What a tool.

What I really like: Lady (no hollaback girl please, backoff stefani), delicious production skills, her own vocals. Ada has stolen my wretched little heart, wretched, I say. Her 'Blondie' makes my choice for this eve. Cee Pee, you are offuckingline otherwise this puppy would have loaded all over the place, hear?

I also filled up on the new Daft Punk today, in my non-iPod. Got a chance to listen on my way home from work. It is masterful no doubt but on the whole, not my thing. Given, I was in a flying rage, with work-related stress on one hand and my impending trip home on the other. Whenever I go back home I go through a period of mulling about how its going to be, what I've missed out on, who I've become, how I'm different now...you get the idea. So this album with its crazy guitars and vocoders just served to heighten the noise in my head. I dig those lovable robos but this offering was out of my league, except for two tracks. The first being 'Make Love' (can be heard on above BBC link), it's hella strange for Daft Punk to be venturing into early rock n' roll type 4-step beats. With that at-the-drive-in guitar, quite cool.

The second track I love is the very last one, 'Emotion'. Daym, that shit made me cry. I'm serious. See I wasn't expecting it to be so different from the rest of the tunes, so sonorous. No, that bad boy caught me by surprise. This best I can link to is this decent remix. The simple and gorgeous crescendo sent my left eye into a recovering bell's palsy spasm, followed by the formation of a solitary tear that seemed to make things (not right but) at least ok. Now I'm left aching to get on that plane, wishing it to be next saturday. How will I be able to pay attention to all the details? The suitcase shopping, haircut, shopping for the family, burning CDs, everything at work, the list goes on. Rajbo? He has disappeared. And it's my last weekend, except for next Friday, long weekend. But still. Uff, I am so wallowing in a special brand of sad sauce. Let me be, go on without me, SAVE YOURSELF!!!! Ha. Seven. More. Days. Mama needs to get the fuck out of Hogtown.

Wolfe, how's the limo and stripper entertainment situation? I'm about ready to settle for a cab and a Goan classic rock band.

This is quite possibly the cutest inanimate pet trick I've ever seen. Except for that one time when my pet pebble turned into a goat turd but I'll save that for another day. Sony recently held a competition to see which Aibo could do the best dance-dance to Daft Punk. First place went to the ADORABLE Olivia Newton John, watch her, him, it (aww, 'it') do her/his/its thang at Aibo Does Daft Punk.

Caught this link on Boing Boing.

OPEN LETTER TO KANSAS SCHOOL BOARD

I am writing you with much concern after I read of your hearing to decide whether the alternative theory of Intelligent Design to be taught along with the theory of Evolution. I think we can all agree that it is important for students to hear multiple viewpoints so they can choose for themselves the theory that makes the most sense to them. I am concerned, however, that students will only hear one theory of Intelligent Design.

Let us remember that there are multiple theories of Intelligent Design. I and many others around the world are of the strong belief that the universe was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster. It was He who created all that we see and all that we feel. We feel strongly that the overwhelming scientific evidence pointing towards evolutionary processes is nothing but a coincidence, put in place by Him.

It is for this reason that I’m writing you today, to formally request that this alternative theory be taught in your schools, along with the other two theories. In fact, I will go so far as to say, if you do not agree to do this, we will be forced to proceed with legal action. I’m sure you see where we are coming from. If the Intelligent Design theory is not based on faith, but instead another scientific theory, as is claimed, then you must also allow our theory to be taught, as it is also based on science, not on faith.

Some find that hard to believe, so it may be helpful to tell you a little more about our beliefs. We have evidence that a Flying Spaghetti Monster created the universe. None of us, of course, were around to see it, but we have written accounts of it. We have several lengthy volumes explaining all details of His power. Also, you may be surprised to hear that there are over 10 million of us, and growing. We tend to be very secretive, as many people claim our beliefs are not substantiated by observable evidence. What these people don’t understand is that He built the world to make us think the earth is older than it really is. For example, a scientist may perform a carbon-dating process on an artifact. He finds that approximately 75% of the Carbon-14 has decayed by electron emission to Nitrogen-14, and infers that this artifact is approximately 10,000 years old, as the half-life of Carbon-14 appears to be 5,730 years. But what our scientist does not realize is that every time he makes a measurement, the Flying Spaghetti Monster is there changing the results with His Noodly Appendage. We have numerous texts that describe in detail how this can be possible and the reasons why He does this. He is of course invisible and can pass through normal matter with ease.

I’m sure you now realize how important it is that your students are taught this alternate theory. It is absolutely imperative that they realize that observable evidence is at the discretion of a Flying Spaghetti Monster. Furthermore, it is disrespectful to teach our beliefs without wearing His chosen outfit, which of course is full pirate regalia. I cannot stress the importance of this, and unfortunately cannot describe in detail why this must be done as I fear this letter is already becoming to long. The concise explanation is that He becomes angry if we don’t.

You may be interested to know that global warming, earthquakes, hurricanes, and other natural disasters are a direct effect of the shrinking numbers of Pirates since the 1800s. For your interest, I have included a graph of the approximate number of pirates versus the average global temperature over the last 200 years. As you can see, there is a statistically significant inverse relationship between pirates and global temperature.



In conclusion, thank you for taking the time to hear our views and beliefs. I hope I was able to convey the importance of teaching this theory to your students. We will of course be able to train the teachers in this alternate theory. I am eagerly awaiting your response, and hope dearly that no legal action will need to be taken. I think we can all look forward to the time when these three theories are given equal time in our science classrooms across the country, and eventually the world; One third time for Intelligent Design, one third time for Flying Spaghetti Monsterism, and one third time for logical conjecture based on overwhelming observable evidence.

Sincerely Yours,

Bobby Henderson, concerned citizen.

P.S. I have included an artistic drawing of Him creating a mountain, trees, and a midget. Remember, we are all His creatures.



Pardon me while I DIE LAUGHING. Ha! Arachnophobia is merely atheist propaganda. Amen.

AARGH! Them A-Rabs are at it again, why why why? OH WHY?



What is GOING ON, PEOPLE? This building aims to commemorate the great vision of Sheikh Zayed. The man has a road named after him that houses some of the coolest buildings on this planet. It's like they're pissing gold on his grave. I'm dumbfounded. This is quite possibly the UGLIEST structure I have EVER seen. E.V.E.R. And that is an impressive statement. When I was a wee lass my dad would take me to royal palace-in-construction sites where the walls were made of gold and jewels. The jacuzzis were marble, surrounded by light oak with deep red carpets. I have witnessed gaudy opulence that even The Donald would envy. But THIS, THIS IS THE NASTIEST VISION OF THEM ALL.

There was a period there (in the 90s) when the Dubai Sheikhs went back to basics, they streamlined their new buildings and started favoring plain marble and steel in place of precious metals. Looks like the revolution passed Abu Dhabi without so much as a 'Salaam'. Yes, this tower will be built right in the middle of Abu Dhabi. As is visible from this image, the rest of the busy central square will be completely demolished to leave a barren wasteland from whence this GORGEOUS piece of work will rise above the ashes like a big uglyass golden PIMP CHALICE. Because that is what it looks like.

To the architects who will forever have their names sullied by the likes of me, please, you are capable of so much BETTER. To the Abu Dhabi royals who have commissioned this ginormous headache, why do you so make light of Zayed's brilliant visions? I bet you all the gold in the world that a crystal-coated, gold-dipped, titanium tower (yes, that's right) was the last thing on his mind when he envisioned an oasis of the future. But who am I, nothing, nobody, just a lowly ex-expatriate with two eyes for seeing and one brain for disliking what it is I'm seeing.

This one's for you Cee Pee, I was thinking about the Ural 13 Diktators at your place on Saturday. Went on a little google-hunt to see if I could locate any new material. For those who are not familiar, the Diktators are a Finnish duo who make kickass tracks. They are, unfortunately, little heard and never seen. I can't even find a decent bio on them. Reclusive to a fault, mask-wearing, OCD-type robo-men. At least that's the impression I get from this side of the Atlantic, I'm sure they're better recognized on the other side of the pond. God bless their non-media whore asses.

I came across the video for a track called "Name of the Game". This viddy is SUPERB! Done in 8-bit, it is a romantic tale of hot legs and lost love. It will make you weep for the lost Sierra games of days gone by. Loves it loves it loves it. 5 minutes is all it takes:



The video has been produced by one LOBO, loads of animation and wicked work to wade through at the website. LOBO has also animated the Legowelt video for Disco Rout, which is pretty amazing too, what with all the neat Swiss Alp imagery. I will be keeping my eye on this puppy called LOBO from now on. Only great things can come of animation and that's final.

Yesterday was a collection of lazy shopping, seeing various good folk, and slowly walking all over downtown with some loose end in sight. I tried to get over the strangeness of taking random pictures and fooled around a bit with the camera. So how's about a picture story?

Rajbo and I had some avocado-filled lunch on the stoop at a cafe...



We were joined by the wee brother...Made our way west on Queen, Rajbo scored a lovely FCUK cardigan, I'm not big on the brand but this puppy is an exception. There's something about a hint of salmon that can't be beat. Good colour. The MMVAs are being held this weekend and both soundstages were in full swing. Caught Ciara on one, in her grey baggies, I swear it's her, ha!



Met up with Prince, who was in the most pleasant of moods. Just look at this sweetheart of a face:


...and then I got slapped upside the head.

Drank some sake at the palace, it is my new fav thing to drink. Nice, clean, sake. Preferably out of crystal goblets, like at the palace. The after-effects of being nice and clean:



Walked to the subway to catch a movie (I was hoping Batman Begins). This is the Russian Orthodox Church on Ossington, which is a part of little Portugal.



EVERYTHING was sold out at the Paramount, we decided to push it to the ManuLife Centre and try our luck. As we approached the building, a sharply dressed man of small stature walked passed. Rajbo says "Neha, it's KEIFER!", I whip around and can barely see his face, his hands lighting a fag. Oh, it is SO Keifer (Sutherland)! By this time he's crossed and waiting across the street, the cars rush by, I realize I have to make an attempt at taking a picture. The cars, THE CARS. I take this:



Yeah, that's him on the right, for reals. I wasn't going to post the pic but who cares. These eyes know what they saw and can I just say, 'dreamboat'. Ha. Strangely enough, just before the sighting, Constantine was telling me about his encounter with a bummish Ben Affleck at the same spot a couple of weeks ago. I'm going to carry this camera all summer to catch a snap, just a pick of the nose, a slip of the nip, then I'll paparazzi that shit to a massive condo down payment. It's going to happen, I can feel it.

We ended up watching Mr. & Mrs. Smith. It was funny and those two were as hot as expected. The plot left quite a bit to be desired, a la Bourne Supremacy, but the dialogue makes up for most of it. Batman, when? When?

There is some crazy hilarity ensuing at Cranial Flatulence due to his mad drawing skills (see poster below, wow, gorgeous). Basically, we want to make some comics, right. We are responding to a niche market, those interested in desi superheros, yes, but specifically those interested in BADLY DRAWN desi superheros. Courtesy of Paresh, the greatest bad-artist ever, behold, The Chulbule Chaar! Or the 'Fleeting Four', err, something gets lost in translation.



The team is made up of (clockwise from top left) Taklu (Paresh), Champa (Wolfe), Chaddi Chick (me), and Mighty Manna (Tammy). Here are our superpowers (still developing):

Taklu - blinds people with his shiny bald forehead, note the decieving toupee.
Champa - she's strong and angry, really angry.
Chaddi Chick - she's got no face or legs or clothes...that's about it. 'Chaddi' = underwear.
Mighty Manna - see those perfectly positioned M's, they'll make you crazy!

Would anyone care to donate to our cause? Donations may be made in the form of much-needed creative talent.

Finally found a killer pic of the Press Pause piece at ReSurface. That's good ol' Homesick, doing what he does best, paint walls and miss home. Is this wall not kickass? I dare you! Is it not worthy of two posts? Double dare!



Last week I went to the screening of their very first film. It was animated and mucho funny. Hope they put it up on their site soon so I can share with permission. We got wasted in a nearby alley afterwards, that's how classy people do.

Then a sessy German acquaintance told me she loved my bermuda shorts. Then the cine-fuckers voided the second showing, so we went to this dude's place to screen it. Except his place was a ginormous loft with A HALF-PIPE IN PLACE OF A LIVING ROOM and a massive projector. The cine-fuckers messed up and we were left with no movie and no second showing. At this point people were mad as hell so we went to this ex-bar that was turned into an illegal bar and the two apartments on top were also turned into bars and everyone drank and raged. T'was a great night (for me) and a frustrating night (for Press Pause). Though I don't think they have to worry about it too much because they are extremely talented and will all live long and prosper, and the world will rejoice in their glory. That's right.

The less I hear of David Lynch the more obsessed and antsy I become. Come ON already, Mr. Lynch. Every time I skirt an article that mentions his name I get to thinking about how happy I'll be when I'm watching his new work, how filled with utter satisfaction at being alive in this wondrous universe. Idle Type refers me to a great Variety article on Lynch's new flick, Inland Empire.

"Making a film is a beautiful mystery," Lynch says. "You go deep into the wood, and you don't want to come out of that wood, but the time is coming very soon when I will have to."

This wood sounds like a helluva place. You know you were born to make movies if you have to go into the dark wood, which exists only in your own head, every time you want to shoot. Oi, Cee Pee, you like to make the movies, can I hitch a ride to the wood or summat this weekend?

Yes, where was I, right, David Lynch...I find it very interesting that the man has switched to digital video after having performed such mastery over film for so many decades. To all the film school types who still think the film medium is "like, waaay real", news flash, that shit is turning obsolete faster than you can say "cut!". Isn't that right, Mr. Lynch, sir?

"For me, there's no way back to film. I'm done with it," Lynch says. "I love abstraction. Film is a beautiful medium, but it's very slow and you don't get a chance to try a lot of different things. With DV, you get those chances. And in post-production, if you can think it, you can do it."

*shivers shivers* So very true, true, and more true. I have just purchased my very first digital (still) camera myself. I stopped taking pictures two years ago when I got fed up with film and had no money for digital. But now, sweet digital data is what my life will be written in. After eons of research, drooling, lowering of standards, and general stinginess, here is my new baby, the Canon Powershot A520.

Thus spoke Cringely from his pulpit:

"The crowd this week in San Francisco at Apple's World Wide Developers Conference seemed mildly excited by the prospect of its favorite computer company turning to Intel processors. The CEO of Adobe asked why it had taken Apple so long to make the switch? Analysts on Wall Street were generally positive, with a couple exceptions. WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE!? Are these people drunk on Flav-r-Ade? Yes. It is the legendary Steve Jobs Reality Distortion Field at work. And this time, what's behind the announcement is so baffling and staggering that it isn't surprising that nobody has yet figured it out until now. Apple and Intel are merging."

Since we're having fun with speculation, here's what I think people will have to say if the merger becomes a reality.

Steve J. - "Ha! Howddaya like THEM Apples, BITCHES!"
Bill G. - "You fruity BASTARD!"
Intel (all of, in chorus) - "Back then hos didn't want me, now I'm hot HOS ALL ON ME!"

Mike Jones (Who?), your bling of wisdom just works on so many levels.

Ok, maybe just one headline: Courtroom Thriller Ends as MJ 'Gets Off'. It's out of my system, enough already. Time for part 3 of that 3-part post I started far too long ago...

TTLB Ecosystem - The Life and Times of an Insignificant Microbe

I partake in a wonderful little creation known as the TTLB Ecosystem cared for by The Bear. In this blogodome I started off as an Insignificant Microbe and was hovering between I.M. and Crunchy Crustacean status (always managing to skip the Multicellular Microorganisms and Wiggly Worms categories). Of the 16 categories, I.M. takes the lowly 16th place, C.C. is at 13th.

There are currently about 1400 Insignificant Microbes in the ecosystem. Many of them are bad links and pages that haven't been updated in eons. Keeping this sort of company made me lose faith, was my template terrible? Was my writing that boring? Was The Bear really a bear? These questions kept me up at night, sweaty and fitful I would fling around crying "Insignificant, INSIGNIFICANT!".

Then last week as I was staring at my Statcounter, willing the numbers to rise, I noticed an interesting referring link. Who was this entity? It didn't look like someone Blogger-surfing. Oh Good God, did someone actually link to me without being paid to do so??? The answer, yes! That Goddess of Graciousness is Lynn. She is a righteous babe who actually went through the list of Insignifi-can'ts to come up with a few she thought to be deserving of some evolution. Hear hear! Have a gander at her list, there are good blogs on there. The Currylingus blurb is quite fitting too, no? "Neha has a serious case of potty-mouth... " Hear hear!

Thanks to Lynn I am now a Lowly Insect! Not just a blob of cells but an insect with an exo-skeleton. A whole one thousand five hundred and thirty one spots away from being the highest lowly insect. It's evolution, baby.

Although, this particular form of evolution isn't making much sense to me (like everything else that involves incoming links). See how it works:
"The TTLB Blogosphere Ecosystem is an application which scans weblogs once daily and generates a list of weblogs ranked by the number of incoming links they receive from other weblogs on the list."

Now see how many incoming links I have according to TTLB: 2. NOW see how many incoming links I have according to Technorati: 15. Oh wise internerds, please enlighten me, why the discrepancy? What's the diff? CAM AAAN, BEAR! Crawly Amphibian isn't too much to ask for...

It is 31 C, feeling like 41 C, relative humidity of 59%. We were supposed to get rain but the solace never showed up. I have no a/c. The fan isn't helping. The air outside is the same temperature as my body inside. Hot and sweaty is a terrible way to nurse a mild hangover. I was reading today's Green Channel post, the tale of a freak Dubai hailstom, it made me feel much better. The author waits for his monsoons, I can do no such thing. A second cold shower it will be then...

Graffiti - The Homesick Experience

Growing up in the superficial fortress that is Dubai, graffiti was not something I encountered very often or, in fact, at all. Sure there was the usual "Fuck U!" but nothing that could prove even a distant comparison of this:



...or this:



These pictures, to me, represent a struggle between the concept of graffiti and the actual experience of it. Alas friends, it's "billboards for the rich, spray cans for the poor" (Link). Here in Toronto, the graffiti grows and so does the bastard opposition. Just the other day I was reading this pathetic excuse of an article, it was discussing the "Broken Windows Theory". The author had CLEARLY just finished reading some Gladwell and thought herself quite smart for being able to apply her new found knowledge to real life. Goddamn amateur, arm-chair sociologists. Anyway, her beef was, all graffiti is vandalism in some form, all vandalism is nasty looking, all nasty looking things lead people to behave in nasty ways, therefore, remove graffiti and rid the city of crime.

Now, my dear readers, you are an intelligent breed, this type of narrow thinking does not sway you I hope? If it does then I bet you 2 Mars Bars that you've never seen a glorious drawing that spreads across a whole wall, taunting you with daring notions of passion, persistance, and fantasy with its vibrant colours and abstract flow. Just look at the pics above, now realize that there is a really good chance of that wall being whitewashed in the future. You know how that makes me feel? Misunderstood. I like that wall, I think it is beautiful. I give it the same respect I would a Monet in a museum. I'm not comparing artists or styles or anything of the kind. I'm simply drawing similarties between creative effort.

Last Sunday morning, after a big 'ol greased up breakfast (scrambled eggs, taters, buttered toast, all drowning in salt in pepper), Prince led us to the aftermath of ReSurface 05. This sponsored event donates an alley to the spraying cause, with everything from garages, fences, brick walls, stairs, doors, etc. being open to artistic expression. The piece pictured above was done on a couple walls by the wonderful Press Pause Collective (includes Prince's bestfriendforlife, Homesick), I found it the BEST one there. Though do check the ReSurface site for wicked honorable mentions.

In my usual stalker fashion I have found some great shots of Press Pause wallwork about town, not from all members though, just a few, Mediah, Elicser, Homesick, and Fathom. Sadly, I found naught for Lease, whose praise I have previously sung on this site. I leave you with these pretty images and personal thoughts, final part of the series-post will follow shortly but first, we must commence THE WEEKEND!!!!!

There are three things that have affected me in some interesting manner in the past week that need a-blogging.
1. Darth - The Midnight Cowboy
2. Graffitti - The Homesick Experience
3. TTLB Ecosystem - The Life and Times of an Insignificant Microbe

Before I begin my twisted tales I would like to take a moment to thank and spank Prince for uploading the best shizz to my hard drive. That was not sexual innuendo. I had no idea you had been uploading, Prince, I just found the stuff yesterday morning whilst frantically trying to fill the mp3 player. It was the best prezzie ever "CHING CHING, CHING CHING!". Don't ever stop unloading your load into my hard drive.

Darth - The Midnight Cowboy

On a fateful saturday, almost two weeks ago, Rajbo's brother, Darth moved in with us. Straight from Texas, accent and all. He has already taught me many things (that I was aware of previously but have re-learnt): Texan girls dress way skankier than their Ontario counterparts, the Texan accent is a total babe magnet, men don't wear shirts in Texas, everything is cheaper in Texas, Canadian cable has a lot of nudity/swearing and maple leaves. But the most important thing I have learned is that guns and exotic animals are man's best friends.

To illustrate this last point I have a couple of TRUE stories. Darth has this friend who's really into scary, illegal reptiles. This friend somehow smuggled an anaconda into Texas from Mexico. He began feeding it the regular anaconda diet of one rabbit ($10/each) every few days. One day, Darth went to visit his friend and found his living room full of cute little kittens. Darth says "Why do you have so many kittens?!". Friend says "Oh, dang rabbits cost too much. Kittens are free in the newspaper!". Just to emphazise the point, anacondas tend to wrap their loooong bodies around their prey and crush them to death before swallowing them whole, fur and all. The friend, well, he's done gone joined the army and has since been deployed to Iraq. Ah, comforting.

Second story, Darth went camping one day with some friends. They were roasting marshmellows when one friend began to complain about the lack of meat. So the friend pulls out his fully loaded assault rifle and runs off into the woods. He soon returns to the campsite with two recently deceased ducks and happily proclaims "Meat, y'all!". He then plucks out the feathers himself and throws the ducks (along with webbed feet) onto the spit. They roast, friend eats, everyone looks a little disgusted (mostly due to the feet that are still cooking). The best part is, this friend now lives rent free on a beach in the Caribbean and gets paid $80K to fly a small plane once a week to New York. During Darth's recounting, this part was when I slugged back an enitre whiskey glass full of sake.

All in all, Darth has some crazy stories but is himself quite a normal young man. Except for his weird effect on women. We took him out last saturday and this unknown, hot, Czech chick ran up to him and smooched him full on while saying "yoo byoo ti ful man, arrgghhhh, byoo ti ful", while a huge dude gave Darth rotten looks from behind her. Meanwhile at home, his ex (who still thinks she is current) calls him 18 times a day and keeps threatening to visit. I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a fun summer.

Parts 2 & 3 of this here's-what-I've-been-up-to post will follow shortly...

I LOVE this site because it is based on the simple facts of life:

"The H2 is the ultimate poseur vehicle. It has the chassis of a Chevy Tahoe and a body that looks like the original Hummer; i.e. it's a Chevy Tahoe in disguise."

It also carries a very pretty haiku...

Haiku by Tim

Hulking black Hummer
Purchased in rank atonement
small peckered driver

...along with 2108 pages of people giving H2s all over the world an "official H2 salute". So the next time you spot one of these I'm-compensating-for-what-MotherNature-gambled-away-one-drunken-night wagons, give 'er the bird, yea! And don't be afraid to yell senile things like "Hey Jerkwad, the war called; they want their Hummer back!".

Happy Monday!

You know that feeling you get when Celine Dion's on stage doing some really odd jerky shit with her body? That building sensation of shame, rage, and finally complete madness? It will grow infinitely once you have seen what I have seen. Bad. Real Bad. I'm only sharing because I can't go through this alone...

"With approximately 5,000 children born with Down Syndrome in the United States each year, the Down Syndrome Dolls will be an important resource for families who have a child with the condition, or for organizations and medical providers that serve these special youngsters... parents, teachers, and physicians throughout Europe have found the dolls are shared with siblings and friends, they can help foster a better understanding of the human body for children and people with special needs" [Link]



I think this is a wonderful idea. Children with D.S. are the most loving and lovable people on this planet. They do NOT see themselves as inferior or challenged or handicapped or whatever term one cares to use. And they should not have to. Look! They are so cute, Mikael wants to give you a BIG HUG. Aww.

Personally, I find expectant mothers showing off their bellies quite cute. The thing about such fashion is that is can easily go very very wrong. Behold, The Fugliest Prom Dress Ever:



The Manolo is kind to his readers for referring us to Ugly Dress. Having said this, I've got a weird shameful feeling for posting this photo. It has to do with the fact that this girl looks really young and very preggers. So please, to clarify, I am not making light of her situation, just her dress, because that dress is a vex upon the world.