Friday, August 28, 2015

Hold On To Me Tightly I'm A Sliding Scale; Can't Endure Then You Can't Inhale

I'm lazy. This is a fact we all know, judging by how little I post these days. So this week we've got a guest post from my friend Adam - you may remember him from such films as "Dude, Where's My Czar?", and "Debbie Does Dallas (A Favour By Feeding The Homeless)". Or, you may just know him from past posts, like the one about the book he wrote

Yeah. That guy.

A few weeks ago over some beers and conversation that normal folks wouldn't understand, Adam made the poor choice of volunteering to guest post. So here it is. Adam's foray into blogging, featuring made-up stuff. Enjoy (?):


Here we are. You – the intent reader, and me – the often confused and less-than-stable-minded writer. You’re sitting there, reading the words I’ve written, anticipating something intelligent, moving or entertaining to be said and I’m sitting here writing words waiting for something intelligent, moving or entertaining to just show up in the form of the English language.

The sad truth is I volunteered myself to guest-write on this blog without actually thinking of any content. I was told specifically that I could write about anything I wanted.

I combed over a few ideas in my head, but ultimately they were all Trumped by this one piece of cliché advice I received from a friend: “write what you know.”

Wait, write what I know? I think maybe the only thing I know for sure is that I know nothing at all. My actual job, my 9 to 5, pay-the-bills, pay-the-rent job is a copy writer. What does a copy writer do? Makes shit up. Yes, I’m a professional make-shit-upper.

So write what I know. I know how to make shit up. So…. away we go.

So there’s this chick on the subway and she’s all reading this book and like her dog is there, too right? So like this chick is reading and like she’s kinda hot so these dudes are all eye-ballin’ her like they're caged wolves staring at raw steak.

So chick is all “OMG these dudes are all up in my business and I’m too cool to talk to any of them cuz they’re all losers n’ junk” – but not like…out loud n’ shit – more like in her head n’ shit.

So dudes is all “OMG I want to treat this chick like a pre-booked hotel room – get into it without having to talk to anyone or do anything special.”

So Dude A walks up to her and is all “Yo baby can I get yo numbah?” and chick is all “No bro you used ‘yo’ instead of ‘your’ – and thus said ‘yo’ twice so let me say this twice so you can be sure - NO-NO. Like a yo-yo but no-no.” And Dude A is all disheartened n’ shit and he’s all “Yo whatever yo” and exits the train while chick is all “HE JUST DID IT AGAIN!”

So Dude B walks up to this chick and is all “OMG you are so hot I could melt butter on you” and chick is all “NO HABLAS ANGLAIS” then Dude B is all “but I just heard you talking to Dude A” and she’s all “pardonez moi, si vous plais” which REALLY confuses Dude B cuz he’s pretty sure she does, in fact, speak English but now he’s wondering if the acid he took earlier is just now kicking in…so he leaves the train all like “ARE THE WORDS I’M USING STILL ENGLISH?! AHHHHHH HELP ME!!!”

So Dude C swags up to chick and is all “I’m Dude. I have lots of money cuz I’m a doctor. Friends call me Dr. Dude since I’m such a dude” and chick is all “I have no idea what that means” and Dr. Dude is all “OMG you’re speaking English to me” and chick is all “cuz I feel bad for you” then Dr. Dude’s like “why? I’m rich and fancy and sexy and dude” and chick is all “money can’t buy another chance for you to make a first impression” and he’s all “are you sure?” and pulls out this wad of bills. But chick is unimpressed with his material wealth, hugs her dog and says “I got everything I need right here with my bitch”.

But then Chris Pratt walks in, chick’s eyes meet his, they communicate telepathically and fall in love instantly.

Moral of the story: as long as you have a penis, making a good first impression on a female is next to impossible unless you’re Chris Pratt.


Praise be Pratt.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Hear The Wind Within The Trees, Telling Mother Nature 'Bout You & Me

I want to share my story of a boy I loved.

He hasn't been on this site for awhile, but for many years I posted about him often. Obsessively, even. Jack was my first dog. He belonged to my ex, Craig, and I quickly fell in love with this sweet and crazy little Jack Russell.

By the time we moved in together, Jack and I were already family.

When we did co-habitate, I was freelancing at home a lot. It was just me and Jack (and our cat, Booey), and he was my best buddy. I spent my days with him, and so he was the subject of many blog posts, because every photo was somehow adorable and every video was hilarious (as anyone who recalls his reaction to the word "chihuahua" can attest to).

I loved him.

But Jack was also a pain in the ass - he was a stubborn barker with a penchant for eating clothes, blankets, beds and anything else we didn't want him to eat. He could be so obstinate that you'd want to pull your hair out, then he'd tilt his head and give you those big brown eyes and you'd want to hug him.

That was Jack. You couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

Eventually, we got Daisy from the same rescue organization Jack came from so we'd have two of these dogs to love, and so they'd have each other.

It was a rough start, but they came to love each other as we hoped they would. They were buds. Thick as four-legged thieves.


Though they no longer lived together after Craig and I separated, they remained the very best of pals. They would go on long walks in High Park and play together often.

I'd have Jack stay with me for a few days here and there, and I know Daisy liked having him around (for the most part - at least until he'd inevitably eat her blankets or chew her bed.) She could kick his ass, and he'd kiss her in the middle of it. He'd have seizures, and she would lie beside him.That was dog love.

Sadly, my sweet Jack passed away earlier this week. He was a fighter - his epilepsy and seizures caused near-misses throughout his life, but he kept pushing through. In the end, it was his lungs that became the problem.

The news broke my heart and made me hold Daisy a little tighter.

These few words and old photos can't really explain how much I love and will miss Jack. It's not something I can verbalize. Looking through years of pictures has made me unbelievably sad because of the loss, but also brings a bittersweet happiness due to the memories of my crazy little dog.

Without him, I really would have missed out. I never would have become the dog-loving (ok, dog-obsessed) person I am today, I wouldn't have Daisy, my family wouldn't have Roxie, and I likely would never know the unconditional love of a pet. He brought all of that to me.

So, to Jack... my first dog, and the boy that changed me... thank you. For so much.

Lots of love from me and Daisy. We will never forget you. xo

A video from 2008. Jack the Destroyer.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Brace For The Glory As You Stare Into The Sky

Though I've intended to be in Toronto regularly, it's been awhile since I got back - things get in the way. It happens. But recently I managed to carve out three days to spend in my other home, the city I'll never refer to as "the 6".

My main reason? Deftones. Cue your surprised faces. Fake 'em, if you have to.

Yes, Deftones. The subject of many a blog post on here, due to my big love for them.

They were playing Edgefest (Edgefest 2, to be exact), along with Incubus. I've loved Incubus since I was a wee little brat, and have never seen them live before. So, Deftones + Incubus = a show I must attend. And attend I did.

I hadn't been to Echo Beach before (the song just became your earworm, for those of you old enough to know it), but it's a pretty cool venue.

Weird to be standing on sand during a rock and/or roll show, but I do appreciate being exfoliated while I fangirl.

We all know how terrible my concert photos are, but bear with me as I attack you all with roughly 8.2 trillion pics of Chino singing and dancing in his Morrissey shirt.

Ok, 8.3 trillion.

Look, it's Stef! Not a Chino photo.

I have evolved as a human person.

You never know who you may run into at any given concert - Hi Meli!

And back to Chino. Sorry. (I'm not really sorry.)

This one's different, he's playing guitar!

My photos are vast and varied. Complex, even.

And then this happened.

Anthony, who you may remember as A Book for Wanderers, managed to get invited up on stage to sing Maynard's parts on Passenger. It took me a minute to figure out it was him, and I'll probably have to slightly hate him out of jealousy for the rest of my life.

Lucky bastard.

 Look, a sunset!

Aaaand Incubus.

I may or may not have had a bet going to see how many songs Brandon Boyd could last without taking his shirt off. I guessed three.

As you can see, I was only partially right by the third song.

But eventually he thought, "Waitaminute now, I'm allergic to shirts! Be gone, vile button-up!".

And so the shirt was gone.

I will say, shirt or no shirt, snowsuit or no snowsuit, the man is beautiful.

It's almost painful how pretty he is.

They were amazing. The only tiny, small, miniscule item I take issue with is that they didn't play enough of the older stuff. Not much from "S.C.I.E.N.C.E.", or "Fungus Amongus".

But that's really just my age showing. Kids these days aren't into those tunes, they weren't born when the albums came out. Darn kids, ruining this old broad's night out from the seniors home.

Overall - kickass bands, kickass sets, a kickass night.

Made me want to follow them for the rest of their tour.

Afterwards, it was to the ol' village for a drink with Bob, who some of you may remember from past posts. Y'know, back when I used to post often. Or at all.

(I apologize to everyone else I saw during my visit, I took no photos of you. Only those in my brain.)

And the next day, I did some solo stuff.

I attempted to hang out on this balcony, but it's ten stories up (or technically 20?), and I'm afraid of heights. Hence the face.

I lasted 3 minutes.

Then I streetcar'd across the city to wander around my favourite place in all of Toronto - High Park.

I can't even express how much I miss living across the street from it, and spending time every day here. I love the crap out of it. There's nowhere better.

These guys, the Barbary Sheep, look a lot like Daisy when they're first born. She used to stand there and they'd stare at each other for awhile, confused. Fun to watch.

I can tell you're overwhelmed by the excitement.

I used to take work breaks and sit on this hill for awhile.

It would've been pretty relaxing that day as usual, if not for the couple behind me, making out furiously as though they just found out they were both going to die tomorrow.

I asked if they understood the mechanics involved in conceiving a baby, but they didn't answer. They were busy.

Sitting. Thinkin' 'bout pizza.

And then it was back to Niagara to squish my little pigdog. I missed her.

While I did manage to see a bunch of people during this visit, I hope to see more of you next time. Yes, that means you. (Probably.)

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