Friday, January 28, 2005

kiss me : I'm misanthropic

From the fine people at sixosix magazine chicago:

It's our favorite time of year. It's been cold long enough that we've all had ample time this season to witness the way couples walk down the street when the temperature drops: her hand in his back pocket, his arm draped around her like a curtain, their feet coordinated to take every step at the same time, so they sway down the sidewalk like some three-legged monstrosity scaring away the pigeons and the squirrels. And you happen to like the squirrels. Lately, they are the only ones you'll make eye contact with when you walk. They're the only ones polite enough to step to one side of the sidewalk when you pass, instead of hogging the whole thing like these mutant couples do, who think that every inch of sidewalk is red carpet laid down to celebrate their coupledom.

Just when you decide to stay off the street for the rest of the winter and eat chocolate and watch television, it starts. The chocolate: it's all shaped like hearts, when you go to put it in your mouth sick little inscriptions appear; you can trace the letters with your tongue (KISS ME! U R CUTE!) The television: all the characters on cable TV are falling in love, even your favorite grumpy self-deprecating ones. Happy Valentine's Day! This is a hard themed-month to blow off. When it's National Poetry Month, if you don't want to participate, you can always pull out the “I-don't-get-poetry” card. Or you can boycott it because Billy Collins has a feature in every newspaper and you happen to think his stuff trivializes what it means to create anything, retired national poet laureate or not. When it's Take-Your-Kid-To-Work day, if you don't have a kid or if you don't have a job, you're off the hook. You don't have to celebrate employment or family. But this month is relentless.

The last time I was with someone on Valentine's Day, I drank a lot of wine to get into the spirit of the holiday. The boy and I decided to go out to dinner to this Chinese restaurant, which happens to be the first place we had ever eaten in public together, a big deal, what with the swallowing, using all the utensils, and maintaining a dialogue. The first public meal is the first big test of whether you can actually get along with someone. We passed, so we were going back to the site to celebrate enjoying each other's company and eating habits for over a year. We had only been to the restaurant once, and we kept driving up and down this bank of strip malls looking for the place without seeing a sign for it. When we pulled over at a gas station, we came to find that the restaurant, our special restaurant, had burned down a few months ago. “Burned to a crisp,” said the gas station attendant, “Pilot light. Fire codes.” The boy, who had a predisposition for melodrama, said that perhaps this was “symbolic of our relationship.” We fought. This is one way to celebrate the day.

Another year, I attended an Anti-Valentine's Day cocktail party. If you've never been to one of these, it's where you and all your single friends get dressed up in your most revealing clothing and drink too many vodka gimlets and complain to potential sex partners about commercialism. They're a blast. This one was particularly fun, because there were little hearts hanging from the ceiling with a skull and crossbones drawn over them as party favors, and in the line for the bathroom there was a little sign on the wall that read “Don't get a V.D. on V-Day.” There's nothing like mention of venereal disease to get everyone mingling. So, I find the one boy at the party from whom I wouldn't mind contracting a V.D., and start a conversation. Naturally, what with our revealing clothing and talk of commercialism, it starts to get awfully hot in there. So this boy I found happens to try to open the window behind the couch we were sitting on by pushing on the glass with his fist, which is not the best way to open a window. The glass breaks. Blood starts running down the arm of his pinstriped suit. Minutes later he's in the emergency room getting his hand sewn back together. I spent the rest of the night on his porch, chain-smoking.

Last year I spent Valentine's Day working in a Starbucks trying to help every couple that approached my register decide which one of them was going to pay for the other's Mocha Frappuccino, an experience which has heightened my resolve that I can never sleep with anyone that drinks blended coffee beverages or that uses the word “venti.” This sort of distinction immediately discounts at least half of your demographic in any major city.

This year I'm thinking ahead. I'm reading a book of theory on love. I'm recommending it to anyone with what can be generally construed by his or her friends as having a “bad attitude,” is accused of being “too picky” or has heard that “everyone wants to sleep with you; you're just to goddamn aloof, stuffed up in some coffee shop reading theory to notice.” Laura Kipnis' Against Love: A Polemic deconstructs a contemporary notion of love and relationships, tracing our sensibilities about modern coupledom to the rise of the novel as a medium in the eighteenth century (a.k.a. fiction). She locates our notions of “working at a relationship” to a culture so invested in pop-psychology and self-improvement that we fail to recognize that we are a nation of workaholics, bringing our work ethics to our sexual encounters. It's an essay that presents the argument that we've all secretly suspected to be true but haven't had the balls to come out and say it, namely: if you're not having sex on a regular basis with one person, maybe it's because you think too much. Kipnis argues, “Too much rationality or thinking risks killing the romance – and of course risks defying prevailing conceptions of the normal human: reptilian analogies like “cold-blooded” tend to be deployed against anyone displaying too much cognition where moodiness should prevail … clearly the only thing to do is to think as little as possible and hope for the best.” You can really get off on thinking about what a great thinker you are this Valentine's Day.

It's like in Annie Hall when Woody Allen stops the happy couple on the street and asks them about their relationship:

Woody Allen: Here, you look like a very happy couple, um, are you?

Female street stranger: Yeah.

Woody Allen: Yeah? So, so, how do you account for it?

Female street stranger: Uh, I'm very shallow and empty and I have no ideas and nothing interesting to say.

Male street stranger: And I'm exactly the same way.

Woody Allen: I see! Wow! That's very interesting. So you've managed to work out something?

Clearly there is a long tradition of neuroses on the topic. You're not the only one with issues.

So you think too much. Everything makes perfect sense now. Of course now you understand why you were trying to make eye contact with all those squirrels. You are a saint, a fucking intellectual; you are a contemporary St. Francis of Assisi . You might as well start writing your confessions and wait to be canonized. Who needs sex? You and the squirrels can go live in a cave somewhere removed from human contact and the human condition.

Or if you aren't ready to resign yourself to an existence of communing with the local wildlife this year, you have fourteen days to make yourself lovable. These things take work. Just don't tell the boys you meet that you read theory on sex. Boys hate this. Or worse, they read theory too, and then you're both doomed from the start. All the signifiers of the season are going to haunt you either way, so someone may as well fall in love with you. If the 9-to-5 hasn't worn you down yet this winter, then, darling, pull your self up by your steel-toe boot strap , powder your nose and hit the street. You just found yourself a part-time job. There must be a whole city full of boys out there who would like to work with you. In a few weeks, when the boy breaks it off because you are too high-maintenance or too low-maintenance or because the two of you don't know how to accessorize to a compatible degree, try not to think too hard about which one it is. If you make it through the holiday even marginally distracted from your sidewalk space measurements, you win.

Ain't It The Truth...

Why aren't these the motivational posters they have at my office? They're seriously more truthful!!!

At Least You Have Goals...

But is this part of your 5 or 10 year plan?

Broaden Your Horizons... Wouldn't I Be Happier As a Chick?

From the fine folks at

When you go to college, you're supposed to broaden your horizons. That's what we were meant to believe when we were younger. They were our parents and teachers ideals, which were based on the premises that the more education we get the smarter we will be (basically means everyone becomes an intellectual person after taking philosophy or some crap). So far, in my experience at least, it's been just a reinforcement of the "life's not fair" routine I went through for 14 years (14 because I failed kindergarten) and I'm starting to think college education is more like beating a dead horse. Now that I've become more "intellectual" I've learned to question my choices in life about everything. In trying to strengthen my critical thinking skills, college has made me question myself more than anything. What am I doing here? Wouldn't I be happier if I wasn't a POOR college student? Should I transfer? Should I change my major? Should I change my religion? Should I change my hair color? Should I change from Sprint to AT&T? I was happy with what I learned in high school. I should have quit while I was ahead. It was a lot easier when there was one set path that everyone had to follow and that was it. Now I have to ask myself all these questions. Questions like: Wouldn't I be happier as a chick?

The answer is yes. Chicks have it way easier than guys. To illustrate my argument, here's a short list of problems with being a guy

1. Getting kicked in the nuts. I don't like getting kicked in the nuts and neither do you.

2. You always have to make sure you don't look gay. Are these windpants too tight? Is this a faggy haircut? Is this shirt a gay color blue? Nope, there's nothing worse than appearing like you love the cock. Even if you despise the cock, they wouldn't be able to tell because you're wearing pants that are too tight. You may find the cock reprehensible and yet people will think you love it because ever since you banged your lip on the basement door you talk with a lisp. It sure does suck to be a gay guy! And that's why us normal guys have to work hard all the time to make sure we don't look like cockmasters out there.

3. Chicks always ask guys to fix shit. "Oh, this shit is broken" some chick will cry, and ask a guy to fix it. Then the guy has to spend all day fixing some shit that isn't even his. Like some frenchy venetian blinds or some other stupid shit.

4. Guys don't get preferential treatment because they don't have big knockers. When guys get pulled over for doing 65 mph in a 35 zone, what are they supposed to do? Bat their eyelashes and lower their blouse a little and pucker up? Hell no, cos' if we did that we'd look gay! We have to pay the ticket.

If I were a chick, I wouldn't have any of these problems! I wouldn't have to worry about getting kicked in the nuts, because I wouldn't have any. It doesn't matter if I look gay or not because lesbians are cool and accepted by society. Guys would be there to fix all my shit, and if I ever want my way all I have to do is hike up my skirt a little. Sweet!

Now, women will say "what about child birth and PMS and crap?" To that I say "go knit a sweater you dumb bitch."

So, as you see Mom and Dad, college is a lot different since you were there. You thought you were trying to broaden my horizons, and I end up realizing I would have been much happier if I were born a chick. And many more troubling things go on at college. The universities slip it in non-chalantly into your freshman orientation bulletin as "A program to create a culture of acceptance for people of diverse sexual orientations" but as I like to call it "watch your back straight guys, college means GAY = OK." Well dude, this is just not cool. Watch out, Mom and Dad, our environment of low inhibitions and casual sex just might be the opportunity for your gay son or daughter to come out of the closet. That's right Mom and Dad, after we're done with "broadening their horizons" your son's going to enjoy such new arts as ballet and ass ramming while listening to theater music. And your daughter now listens to Sarah Mclachlan and is a full out rug muncher. Thanks for your $30,000.

Thursday, January 27, 2005


So I came into this game of house music and partying a lot later than most people, just a little over two years ago, but it certainly changed my life, and my entire being, and I think for the better.

This weekend Patrick Legendre is reviving the old school warehouse parties with UNDERGROUND LEGACY, featuring DJ's Miguel Graca, Stephane Lippe, Rob di Stefano, Tiga and Robert de la Gauthier. I'm really pleased to have been asked to be part of this night working with the productions and shows.

Here is a link to this Playground video... One of the inspirations of the night.

Here is an article in this week's HOUR about the event.

And an article in the MIRROR.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Popeye Had NO Taste Buds!

Perhaps it's because he smoked a pipe too damn much. But what the hell is the deal with spinach?! Considering I have anemia at the moment, I have to eat all kinds of "interesting" things for iron... Dark leafy veggies being one. I really don't get spinach. Most foods I don't mind, but this is just a weird taste. All around. Although it might say something about Popeye's taste in women too!

And I found this article psycho-analysing their relationship. Weird again.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?!

That's right - SPONGE BOB!

I have decided I want to be Sponge Bob when I grow up (if I ever do) and despite current allegations that he is *gasp* homosexual. (Or maybe because of it.)

That's from me and Bob to you haters out there...

e.e. cummings

sometimes i am alive because with
me her alert treelike body sleeps
which i will feel slowly sharpening
becoming distinct with love slowly,
who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth
until we shall attain the Springsmelling
intense large togethercoloured instant

the moment pleasantly frightful

when, her mouth suddenly rising,wholly
begins with mine fiercely to fool
(and from my thighs which shrugs and pant
a murdering rain leapingly reaches the
upward singular deepest flower which she
carries in a gesture of her hips)


my girl's tall with hard long eyes
as she stands,with her long hard hands keeping
silence on her dress,good for sleeping
is her long hard body filled with suprise
like a white shocking wire,when she smiles
a hard long smile it sometimes makes
gaily go clean through me tickling aches,
and the weak noise of her eyes easily files
my impatience to an edge-my girl's tall
and taut,with thin legs just like a vine
that's spent all of its life on a garden-wall,
and is going to die. When we grimly go to bed
with these legs she begins to heave and twine
about me,and to kiss my face and head.


it is long since my heart has been with yours

shut by our mingling arms through
a darkness where new lights begin and
since your mind has walked into
my kiss as a stranger
into the streets and colours of a town-

that i have perhaps forgotten
these hurrying crudities
of bloos and flesh)Love coins His most gradual gesture,

and whittles life to eternity

-after which our seperatinf selves become museums
filled with skillfully stuffed memories


i have found what you are like
the rain,
(Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields
easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike
the air in utterable coolness
deads of green thrilling light
with thinned
newfragile yellows.
lurch and press
-in the woods
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms; but
i should rather than anything
have (almost when hugeness will shut
quietly) almost,
your kiss


i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you do, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate ( for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)


And my very favorite poem EVER:

i like my body when it is with your
body. it is so quite new a thing.
muscles better and nerves more,
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like it's how. i like to feel the spine
of your body and it's bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and agian and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh.....and eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new

Trailer Trash Dolls...

I'm kinda shocked they exist. But I suppose Jerry Springer guests have kids who need toys too.

Arsenic & Apple Pie Store (Gotta love THAT name!)

The Stupid Store (Kinda obvious...)

Trailer Trash Doll

Minna Street Art Gallery

Words That Made It Alright

This weekend had already been a crazy drama-filled difficult one when I decided to go to my sanctuary, Stereo. I just wanted a night of calm, dancing therapy and no problems. I'd had a tough weekend and this year has had it's fair share of stress as well.

Then I ran into Sheena - dear, sweet Mama Sheena. Sheena will definitely be an entry for another time, but I can always depend on Sheena to make me smile, be there for me and she's ALWAYS supported me and stood behind me. Truly another member of my FAMILY.

Sheena grabbed me in a HUGE hug and told me, "You have such a fierce heart girl, don't let anyone EVER take that away from you!"

Just absolutely perfect in it's simplicity, exactly what I needed to hear. Made a tear come to my eye and then gave me hope to go on.

I love you Sheena.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

My Favorite Quote

I can't say that I really know all that much about her life, but I do know that I respect her wisdom greatly. Golda Meir seems like an intensely deep and wise person to say the least. I can probably only imagine the life she lived which brought her to such wisdom.

This quote of hers that I happened to stumble upon quite by accident one day has actually been a source of strength for me in many times of need. I hope it can inspire some of you to get through those rough days...

"Those who don't know how to weep with their whole heart, don't know how to laugh either."

Saturday, January 22, 2005

Get Your Porn Star Name

Once upon a time, I was sent a link to EXPORNSTAR and you could put in your actual name and they would dub you with your PORN star name. Mine was "The Mouth of the South". Which I suppose isn't all that bad. I like my mouth and using it... But I'm not a southerner by any stretch of imagination... (By the way, that feature is no longer activated.)

But being the concerned person that I am, I decided it was my mission tonight to find other sites for you, the reader, who I love so very much, which would provide you with the same service. Cuz we all know how very important it is to know what your PORN star name is/should be!

Thanks to Jason Schock, I can also now be known as "Kinky Hump"...

And OKCupid has an entire test for you to figure out what your name should be - here are my results:

"Lil Miss Spread-Em" Congratulations, you scored 30, you know what's good for you, a whole lotta fucking... and you know how to spread 'em.... like BUTTA! You like to get freaky, but just with the right people. You have a good sense of what others want and know just how to give it to them. But you don't settle just for that. You LOVE receiving just as much! It takes a lot for you to deny sexual desires, but you have the willpower in certain circumstances... unlike Lil Miss Fuckanything!

And To Further Proove My Insanity ;)

Hahahaha, little things AMUSE me soooo much these days, but I'm actually happy that I'm at a place in my life where I can take small things and get so much joy out of them. Makes getting through the days all that much easier to say the least.

Kitschy to say the least, but I just had to buy these! A compact that has notepaper inside and a lipstick that's really a pen. LOL...

GLAMOROUS indeed!!!

The Best Thing About Work

Other than le Maitre Fafard that is... But he's another topic for another day. ;)


THIS is the best thing about work. One slow call day at work, I started looking around the office to see if there was ANYTHING interesting to occupy my time. Was surprised and quite pleased to stumble upon THIS, which has now become a constant companion of mine.

YES, that's RIGHT, introducing MR. SKETCH!!! (Obviously they don't know the people I do, or there'd DEFINITELY be a MRS. SKETCH out there...)

And look, in all kinds of nationalities (i.e. colors) too!

And here is the whole FAMILY!!!

Ok, ok, PROOF right there I'm a little nutty! But seriously, don't those cartoons look a little f*%$ed up?!

Friday, January 21, 2005

This site has perhaps been one of my favorite discoveries from my almost obsessive google image searches. There are so very many incredibly talented artists on this site. So please check them out and if you have the means (or even if you don't) BUY some of their art and support them!

Rosa Lykiardopoulos

Ian Simmons

West Glamorgan Institute : Technical Illustration and Graphic Design

James MacLeod

Bradford University : 2-1 BA (hons) in Fine Art

Emma Jacob

Middlesex University:BA (Hons) Design



Once again, The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words. And the winners are:

1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
6. Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run > >over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), The belief that, when you die, your Soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

The Most Perfect Word EVER!!!

My favorite word in the entire world is this: WANKER. Is there no other word that is just so absolutely fucking brillant and perfect? Try it - call someone a WANKER and you'll thank me one day.

Brought to you by the good folks at slanguistics, here is the definition of WANKER for those of you poor misguided souls who just don't know.

wanker Noun. 1. A masturbator.
2. A contemptible person.
3. An idiot, an incompetent person.

Long live the British!!!

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Hot or Not

I've been on this site for awhile now. It's kinda lame but interesting. You post a picture of yourself then you can write a short paragraph as well - then people can vote and you and VOILA! Tons of perfect strangers around the world can rate your looks all by the click of a mouse! There's also the "Do you want to meet me?" feature... Which is where I met my lovely Ehud. He clicked YES to me, I clicked YES back to him and now here we are! :)

Amanda Peet and Atom Films

This is Amanda Peet - she stars in one of my all time favorite Atom Films shorts. This site is amazing, from categories like animation, comedy & drama, to name just a few, this site has HOURS and HOURS of entertainment right at your fingertips!

Zoe Loses It
United States | 14:50 | Amie Steir

avg user rating

No one likes one-night stands but no one takes that dislike farther than Zoe. After a night with Jimmy, Zoe swears there must be something more and begins to search high and low for the answers to her nagging questions.

Watch it here and enjoy!

She also stars in one of my favorite movies, BODY SHOTS.

The story is set in L.A. with eight friends all recounting the same one night out. But their versions vary drastically...

And for good measure, here is how to do a body shot: ;)
Body or belly shots can break the ice quite quickly in a bar or at a party. The most common shot is tequila because this involves licking some salt off the holder of the shot first and then taking the lime wedge from this persons mouth afterwards. Any shot will do, however. The key to this type of shot is that there are two consenting adults involved.

For Males
  • Female places shot between her breasts or lies on the bar and places it in her navel.

  • For Females
  • Male places shot in the top of his pants or lies on the bar and places it in his navel.

  • Brother B'Ugo



    B'Ugo is one of the sweetest best most amazing people I have ever met in my life! He is fantastic and lovely and he's hella talented as well! I remember (barely) hearing B'Ugo for the first time. And thinking "WOW!" and then thinking, he's too good a dresser to be straight. LOL. But seriously I adore this man - he has such AMAZING taste in music and he is also one of the few people who I am ALWAYS happy to see! Great energy, great music, great dancer = B'Ugo. Check him out!


    Me and B'Ugo drunken stylez at the Boudoir!


    Work it!

    (You should also check out Inobe who is often B'Ugo's partner in crime and a great promoter, partier and a hella hot dancer!)

    They work together on B'Ugo's Boudoir and you should definitely check it out - every Saturday at Parking Lounge - 1285 Amherst...

    B'Ugo's Boudoir hosts Clubbers Care 2

    Come on out everyone - it's for a great cause and it's a killer line up!

    Glowing Reviews of Me

    Here are a few things about me that are on the internet:

    First off, on mtlanglo's blog, a brief synopsis of me.

    The Montreal Mirror - Chris Barry's people. I HATE THIS PICTURE!!!

    And soon to be in Nightlife Montreal. (Being interviewed this weekend as a prominent scenester.)

    Perfect Sundays - House School

    There's been more than the regular share of drama in the local scene lately. Therefore, I've been taking a step back and going out quite a bit less. I do have to say though, that I have been enjoying the nights I have been out a lot more. Sundays at Parking have been a staple in my clubbing diet since I started going to them back well over a year ago when Patrick Dream first began there. Patrick has been a solid musical influence in my life and his guest DJ's are always guaranteed to please...

    Here are this month's events...



    January 23rd - Roy Davis Jr.
    February 6th - B'Ugo
    February 13th - Rob di Stefano

    And as usual Patick Dream is the resident, come on down EVERY Sunday night, 1296 Amherst.
    Great music, great people, & cheap drinks... (Could that be a reason why the people feel so great?)

    Bunny Macintosh's Melting Dolls

    This blog quite simply rocks. I'm even considering going to meet this girl one day. She's sassy, smart, takes pictures of herself in lingerie and posts them up AND she can shoot a gun. *sigh* She's perfect!!!

    And just check out those lips!

    Wednesday, January 19, 2005

    The Price is Right.... For Crack Apparently!

    In case you're one of the few people who haven't yet seen this, I had to post it for you.

    Good old Bob!

    I miss hearing him say, "Don't forget to help control the pet population. Have your pet spayed or neutered." Those were the good old days.

    King Richard a.k.a. Quanneur

    This is the man himself. Richard used to really scare me back in the day when I first discovered the electronic music scene. I was quite new to it all, especially the "extracurricular" activities associated with it. But when he came back to visit us in Montreal this summer (two years after our first meeting) he pretty much was dethroned. By little old me! He did however have us followed around by a CBC crew to document 12 hours of partying in Montreal. The show is called NERVE and is supposed to air sometime this spring. I'll keep you posted. So you can see the crunk in action. (Please, please, PLEASE GOD don't let my parents see it!)