Off The Trail

Just Palin' It Up

You'd be right to point out that American Thanksgiving is coming up this weekend anyways - so in that sense, perhaps Sarah Palin is giving us all insight into cruelty towards animals in America. Or perhaps she's showing us that nothing goes with the slaughter of a turkey better than the new Starbucks Mocha Ginger Frappaccino. I guess we may never know.

No matter how you cut it though, the look on the turkey farmers' face kind of says is all. "Are you actually filming this?" And the timing is almost impeccable, the synchronization with which she finishes her first answer and he finishes with the bird is almost way too good.

On the other hand, you have to give Palin a whole lot of credit. Any Governor can show up at a Turkey Pardoning (a traditional activity in the US) but it takes a media GENIUS to turn it into an international fiasco.

If anyone is wondering where they've seen this before, FFW to 4:28 in the below video. It may jog your memory...

What a Weird Day!

Ok so this is going to be a quick little blog, but i just wanted to talk about two events yesterday, neither of them are super over the top make you scratch your head and say "huh?!" But at the same time they are not typical Wednesday occurrences.

Ok so first of all, there is this homeless guy who sits out in front of my building in a wheelchair everyday. He's a really nice guy, i've never seen him drunk, he doesn't yell at people, and alot of the people in the building have conversations with him sometimes. So every so often when i've got some loose change i send it his way. Anyways i was walking by him yesterday and he was all smiles and just starts talking to me. Here is a verbal account as best as i can remember from our exchange.

"Hey man you might have seen me yesterday sitting here playing with a watch?"

"Actually no i didn't see that, but why what's up?"

"Ok so yesterday i'm sitting here and i bought this watch off a crackhead for two bucks!"

"Oh yeah, nice, seems like a good deal, was it a nice watch?"

"Well that's the thing i bought it and I immediately went to a jeweller to get it appraised."

"And what did he tell you?"

"Well at first he told me that it might be just a knockoff, like a five dollar watch or something. But he couldn't find it in any of his books or online or anything. So he told me he'd hang onto it and find out for me. So i called him again today and he told me to come in. So i went in and you'll never guess!"

(He is literally busting and can barely talk at this point, he's so goddamn excited. He's almost trying to say words faster than his mouth can process them. And he has a little zip up pouch in his lap. And he points at it. I can't see any money in it, but i can see a little orange ticket, about the size of a business card with stuff written on it.)

"I can't see that man what does it say?"

"6500 BUCKS!"

"WHAT!?!?!"

"Yeah man, 6500 bucks it's worth! See look!"

(Again he points at the ticket, and sure enough it's a jeweller's card, with the amount written on it! He starts laughing when he sees the shocked expression on my face. At this point i consider knocking his wheelchair over and stealing the ticket)

"Man that's amazing! Congratulations, there's your meal ticket for a long long time!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHA I know I know! I'm going to go into the welfare office and when they give me my cheque i'm going to say, NO THANKS! I DON'T NEED IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAH!!!"

"Hahaha, ok well hang onto that ticket, don't take it out of there, and don't let it out of your sight!"

"I wont man, i'm going to get it tattooed to my body!"

"You also realize now that you told me this, that i'm never going to give you any change again!"

(He has a good laugh at this, i again congratulate him on his good fortune, and head back inside)

So there you go, not your typical Wednesday afternoon story as i said, but you gotta feel good for the guy, i mean sure it sucks that someone out there lost a 6500 dollar watch, but if you have a watch that's worth that much, you're probably not strapped for cash, and the guy didn't steal it, he bought it off some "crackhead" as he put it. So hopefully he puts the money to good use.


My second story is not nearly as interesting, not even close actually, and will take maybe 30 seconds to write down. But again it's one of those things you see maybe once a year or so. After my hockey practice with my company team yesterday, i was walking back to my apartment from my car in the snow. Head down, not really paying attention, when all of a sudden, "CRUNCH!" I quickly turn around and a car had been trying to parallel park and somehow hadn't seen this other car behind him and backed right into the driver side door on an angle, and scraped the shit out of it and put a mighty dent in the door aswell. Myself and another younger guy were right there, kind of looked at each other, muttered a few, "oh shit that sucks", but we both kind of stuck around to make sure the guy didn't take off or anything. The guy got out of his car, and had one of those looks on his face that says, "Why God? Why me? Why now?" He said to us, "don't worry guys i'll take care of it," and got back in his car to move it out of the middle of the street. I turned to the other guy who was lighting up a smoke and asked him if he was going to stick around a few minutes to make sure the guy didn't take off. He said he would, and i trudged back home.

So there you go, 2 things you don't often hear or see, in one day.

The Tittie Pipe

Dexter

Sundays, 9 PM EST, on TMN

I have been fortunate enough to have watched Dexter from when it first started. I don't really remember my parents ordering TMNOD. But they did. And it was a great gift in a number of ways, not the least of which was that I got hooked right off the bat. Which is not to say I'm better than late-comers (though that's likely true). It's just to say that I've known Dexter for quite some time.

And oh the difference familiarity makes.

Last night's episode was, at least according to it's script, about the butterfly effect. About one little action setting off a string of equal reactions which, given time and circumstance crest into something bigger than you could possible imagine. And that was certainly true in Sunday's episode. Give a man a kill, and he's satisfied for a day, teach a man to kill and he can murder for a lifetime.

Other blogs have said that Dex is stupid to be sharing his carefully laid out system. I don't think so. I think he is lonely. Or rather, I think he may be stupid, but he is first and foremost lonely. He needs someone to know his darkness. He needs someone who can understand him rationally. For a man with no emotions, being loved for the sake of being loved is an odd idea. The rational mind would dictate that he must be loved for his true qualities. And he aims to have his new Best Man know those qualities. Even if they are shown in intermittent flashes of his psychosis. 

But I would say the minute to minute of this episode, while totally fucking awesome, was less important than the bigger questions of morality which, when dealt with in a subdued manner are dealt with better here than on any other show on TV. Because really Miguel isn't doing anything worse than Dexter. Is Dexter born with it? Is that why it's alright? Is Miguel just doing this to further his career as a lawyer? Is that why he seems so evil? Does it really matter?

I brought up how long I've been watching Dexter because I think it holds some weight in looking at the bigger moral questions. We, as loyal viewers, have all become complacent to Dex's murders. If he doesn't murder, we almost feel gypped. That is because we know him. And so it is interesting to see Dexter creating a new version of himself. Someone who, in theory at least, follows the code (or some of it). Someone who knows the practical aspects of it all. And yet someone who we cannot root for. 

The remainder of the plot has been derided as a bit of a foregone conclusion. Miguel murders the defense lawyer, Dex has to murder him, all is well that ends well. But I'm not so sure that is the case. I'm always excited with Dexter plots, so I will just say this: I am excited for whatever happens from here on in. But I'm mostly excited for the bigger questions that will be tackled here - namely, can Dexter find some kind of justification for what he does. Or will his half pulling him toward good and normalcy and his half pulling him further and further towards his darkness pull him apart completely?

In side story news:

Worst line of the week: "Trimmed trees! The skinner's been here!!" But on the bright side - the fear in the perp's eyes about his boss suggest that they're finally hunting a bag guy that isn't a serial killer. I mean, honestly, if there are that many in Miami alone, it kind of takes away from Dexter, doesn't it? regardless, Deb chasing an evil drug-lord (or something to that effect) is a good call. And while it could risk the B-plots going into CSI-like territory, I think the character of Deb can help steer it away from mediocrity.

Also, Angels' getting laid. Awesome.

The Monday Screw (cont'd)

So Grimes loves to tell hilarious stories from his past, but I've got a few too.

So around February of 2008 we were all heading down to Costa Rica for a little surf trip. Now this story happens to start with a little screw right off the bat: I was going down a week early, taking a full two weeks off of work and getting in a shitload of trouble for it, but it was worth it because I was going down with a good friend Mike Sackville. 

Sackville even made us change the date we were going down so he could come along. And that date was changed without anyone blinking! Well worth it to have ol' Mikey boy. Anyways, all the other gents were going down a week late, but Sackville and I were going to chill and surf and have a good time.

Did Sackville end up coming down? Oh lordy day no. So I ended up heading down to CR with nothing but a tent and sleeping bag and board for the week, waiting for the rest of the crew to show.

So naturally, looking down the pipe at a week alone, I decide that the night before I fly I should have a few drinks with the boys. 

Now back in February, Jimmy Doug Stevenson lived with us and he and Tym Frank and I used to frequent a place called Molly Bloom's on Thursday nights. $3 pints and $3 grilled cheese sandwiches with fries. And man alive were those sammiches ever fucking good! So for my last night for a couple of weeks, Molly's seemed like a good choice.

So right after work we sauntered down. And we called up some more peeps too. So by the time we were drinking, we had a good booth sized group carrying on in revelry with us. Included in that group was a lovely young woman who I was attempting to woo at the time. But that's neither here nor there - for now. So as we're consuming more and more booze and all having a good time, suddenly through the front doors come the Budweiser Air Crew (essentially just a bunch of hot babes in stewardess uniforms giving out free beer). And you'd better believe they wanted us to drink more. And so we did. And it was good. And in fact we all drank enough that by the end of the evening (closing time, around 4.5 hours before my flight was to depart) this young woman, this apple of my eye, was sufficiently inebriated to find me attractive enough to come home with.

Mmmmmmrack-POT!

Sadly, I was sufficiently inebriated that I could not physically express my affection for this young woman.

How can I put this... Whiskey Dick? Yes, that will do quite nicely. So I was a useless hunk of bastard. I passed out and around 6 hours later awoke with a splitting headache in an empty bed about 4 hours late for my flight. Shit.

It had departed. Long gone. I had fucking missed my flight.

I leapt into a cab and burned rubber to the airport. Explained that I'd been in an accident on the highway and missed my flight. They kindly put me on the next one out - the next morning at 6:45.

So I went home, licking my wounds and before falling back asleep I hoped online and posted the story you see above on Grimes' Wall (back then we were all about the Wall. And then this happened... and we had to curb our usage...).

And that was the end of that. I flew out to CR the next morning, had a great time. A week later the boys came down. And we all had a great time too! Good times all around!

When I returned I was tanned and happy. Happy because of the trip, but mostly because that little bitty I was hitting on before I left was still somewhat interested in me! Magnificent! So one night we're talking on the phone. I am likely whispering sweet nothings when she asks, "so what do you know about Facebook?"

"Facebook!! Well, you have come to the RIGHT PLACE! What do you need to know?"

"Well, you know Walls right? How many people can see a wall?"

"That depends on your security settings I guess... But pretty much just the people you know."

"Okay."

"Why?"

"Well, for example, when you wrote about us trying to have sex... How many people saw that post?"

"Oh... oh good lord...."

"Yeah... maybe in the future you can refrain from using my name and the word 'whiskey dick' in the same sentence?"*

"Uh, yeah, I think I can do that..."

It turned out that someone, someone who knew both Eric and I, someone who may or may not have been from Oakville, someone who I would have trusted had seen the post and immediately brought it to this young woman's attention. Man alive did I ever eat shit for that one. And no doubt that getting turned in for that posting was the biggest screw I've ever had put on me in my entire life.

-----------------

*editors note: the wishes of the young woman were respected from that day forth. That is why at no point have I insinuated in any way shape or form who that woman is or used her name in the same sentence as "whiskey dick"

The Monday Screw

So i'm sitting here at my desk, facing the hell of another Monday afternoon, and thinking about how bad Monday always screws me over. I mean no matter how hard I try, and how cliche it is, I just truly always hate monday so much. I didn't have a bad weekend or anything, a pretty fun one actually. And the Bills are playing tonight so that should be fun. But still Monday just always hits me like a sack of dirt from a fifth floor window. So in honor of the day that is Monday, let's look back on some awesome screws laid down by myself, on myself, or from one friend to another.

First let's have a look at rather ligthhearted awesome screw by Michael Robert Denby on me today. Michael has a lady friend, she's a very nice girl and they get along quite well. She had a friend at Mike's party on Friday. I thought the friend was quite cute too, however i didn't quite get the opportunity to talk to her, maybe out of fear, or maybe because the amount of alcohol in my veins exceeded the amount of blood. So anyways i shared this information with Mike, and he decided to share it with his lady friend with instructions to pass it on down the line to the girl in question. Did i ask him to do exactly that? Hmm.....i might have, but still. It's reminiscent of a screw i laid down on Mike way back in the day. He had a thing for Sara Spudowski, a very cute girl in our grade. So Mike asked me to call her and tell her. So in front of him, on his home phone, i did just that. "Hey Sara....it's Eric. Eric Grimes. No not him that's Eric Hoibak. Grimes. I'm in your English class. Uhh.....yeah that's right....the one that looks like he's 8 years old. You got it, thanks for that Sara. Anyways you know my friend Mike Denby? Well he likes you and he wants to know if you like him too." At this point Mike starts making frantic gestures to abort, so i find my way off the phone. Then the yelling starts. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT!" "Uh..you asked me too!" It was a great moment in screw history. Let's look at some more.

Back in the later high school years, my friend Derek Mumford took a hankering to smoking weed. Hankering is actually a bad word, underplays the love affair that was born. Derek loved weed. But it wasn't enough to just love it, Derek who is a master of all things relationship wise went all out and started constructing elaborate vessels devoted to smoking his green sticky master. And that Comfortable Mumfordable man is no slouch when it comes to handywork. Some of these contraptions were brilliant. The gas mask bong which reduced me to rubble many times was incredible. There was the triple chambered bong which when filled with ice, was oh so smooth. And the list went on. So Andrew Wade decided one day that he would like one of Mumford's creations, and decided it would be pretty awesome to have a bong made out of a forty bottle, since that was pretty much all we drank at that time, just like our idols from such films as Boyz 'n the Hood, and that other movie that i can't remember what it's called. So Mumford did as we has asked. Purchased the items he'd need to make the bong, took an old forty bottle, and built Andrew his request. Charged him a fair price too. Andrew took one look, decided he didn't really like it after all, and said no thanks. Never paid him the money, and Mumford was stuck with the bong. Haha it still repeatedly comes up in conversations to this day. A fantastic screw by young Wade.

This next one goes out to our only friend who's a father, Alain Mercieca. Now probably right now those of you that read this are thinking this has to do with Alain ditching our crew of mediocre popularity, to hang with the top dogs in high school. Well no that's not it. We forgave him for that. Cause it's hard to hold a grudge against a guy with a kid. No this is something i can never forgive him for. In Grade 5 i had a pretty considerable crush on a girl named Trina. Now being one seriously shy motherfucker there was not a chance i was going to do anything about it. Sure i knew that while the rest of us were heading to E.J. James to continue our education in the public schooling system, she was going to St. Mildred's, an all girls private school. But that didn't change anything. My mouth was staying shut. At Linbrook our desks used to be grouped in 5 or 6's, and that would be your team, and you'd get "jetons" for doing well and shit. So she was in my group, and so was Alain. So it's nearing the end of the day and all of a sudden Alain blurts out.

-"Trina......Eric has something he needs to tell you...."

-"Uh.....no i don't...."

-"Yeah he does, he wants to tell you that he really likes you!"

-"No.....no i don't...."

And then i just sat there. My face burning red. Embarassed as all hell. She was embarassed too. I think she probably figured i was one of those genius kids who's pushed ahead 4 grades. How else would you explain the sweat pants with holes in the knees everyday. I mean most normal kids had discovered denim by that point. It was brutal. Alain....i know you thought you were helping me out.....but goddamn it man a little warning maybe!?

Another good screw, that still rages on in debate nowadays again comes from the early days, myself screwing over Julien Favre, we were probably around 10. We were at his house, probably playing "Jordan vs. Bird" or "Battletoads" or something like that. Anyways we went down the hall, and the song "Everything I Do" by Bryan Adams was playing in his sister's room on the radio. Anyways Julien informed me that, "i love this song!" and then started singing along to the chorus. Now there's nothing wrong with singing along to the chorus, i mean hell i loved that song too. But just the way he sang it, and the fact that Julien was not even remotely close to being a singalong to that kind of song guy......well i was kind of standing there next to him thinking, "Hmmmm........weird....." Anyways i told all the other guys about it the next day and we had a good chuckle. And then when it came up that day in front of Julien.....HE DENIED IT! That's right he claimed it never happened. And the best part....he still claims it to this day! Yes this battle has raged back and forth now for over 15 years. Did he or did he not sing it? Well i'll let you guys decide for yourselves. (He totally did!)

Screws can come in all shapes and sizes. There was the time i tried to lay a mild screw on Mumford by kicking one of his legs into the other from behind.....and it turned into a hot and spicy screw because he tripped and landed in a puddle. There's the unintentional screw....like the time Mumford passed some unneccessary information regarding me and a female onto one of her best friends....and i caught holy hell for it! There's the everyone can enjoy it except the screwed screw, which usually involves a shot to the nuts. And of course the consistent screw, which Pearson lays on me pretty much every single day by never once being on time when we meet up for lunch. Either way monday is a great day for talking about screws, so feel free to comment on a time where you screwed, or got screwed, and we'll all have a good laugh.

Blast From The Past

Whew, it's been a while since I started whacking the ol' keys! Feels great!

So this is a little tale based on some of Grimes' stupendous Blasts from the past. Now I have some good stories to tell. Some good laughs that I had as a kid. But yesterday I had an awesome story session with Andi and while the memories pained me to my core, I saw the look of joy spread across Andi's face and realized: sometimes there are bigger things at stake than your emotions. Pussy.

So here's a litte ditty inspired by Grimes....

The Story of Susie The Killer Poodle

When I was a kid, we had a black standard poodle like the one above. That's not a picture of Susie. I don't have a picture of her on my work computer. But, hey, they all look the same to me anyways. It's really just to give you a visual on the pup I'm talking about here.

Now Susie was pretty awesome, as far as dogs go. And I'd say that's pretty damn far. I remember very distinctly when she was still a puppy, rolling around in the back yard, tossing her all over the place like a little living Koosh ball. Good times my friends, good times. 

But Susie - as animals are wont to do - grew up. And suddenly that constant nibbling and biting and jumping-up-on(ing) wasn't so much cute as it was... Well, how to put this... Insanely fucking annoying. And at no point was it more annoying than when there was another animal around. Man did Susie ever bully the shit out of other dogs. Didn't matter if they were ten times bigger, she fucking went off, the crazy bitch. Just barking and biting and having a time. 

Now, for other dogs that was all well and good, but for my sister's pet hamster, it was pretty terrifying. I mean, it's one thing for a person of great dane to be bugged by this yappy piece of garbage dog. But for a hamster this was a fucking nightmare!

Luckily my father, ever the diplomat, had a solution. He brought the entire family together: Mom and I, my brother Bob, my young sister Hilary and Susie the dog. And he explained that sometimes people (and animals) were afraid of what they didn't know. That was why it was important to break down those barriers of ignorance - so all living things could exist in harmony. And with that he produced my sister's hamster from its cage and held it out. He calmly explained, "it's just like dogs in the park. They just need to sniff and get to know each other." He held out the hamster to meet Susie. Susie cocked her head to the side, staring long and hard at the hamster. And then with one swift movement bit it's head off.

"AHHHHHHH!!!!" All of us yelled in unison. Except for my father.

"Don't worry, it's alright."

"It's not alright! It's heads not attached!!"

"No, no, I- Oh, fuck a duck..."

And that was the end of the peace talks between Susie and the Hamster. We never got a new hamster. That wasn't exactly an afternoon any of us wanted to duplicate. But we never forgot that hamster. Whatever it's name was... Hamster... something...

---------------

A few years later my mother's birthday came around.

My mother is allergic to cats. I should preface this second part of the story with that. When we stayed with my grandparents, she would sit outside and wheeze away because of her allergies. I guess they hadn't invented puffers back then, or something like that. But either way - it wasn't fun for her. Susie, being a poodle, was hypoallergenic. That mean that she didn't shed. Which was good news, because it meant my mother didn't wheeze. Everyone won!

One day, while out at a farm buying a side of beef for dinner, my mom came across the most beautiful barn kitten she'd ever seen. A soft brown and white tabby. Big eyes, and an affectionate curiosity. Even through swollen eyes and wind pipe my mom seemed to bask in this kitten's presence. My father, after buying 13 Lbs. of beef, took the farmer aside and offered to buy the kitten for my mother.

My cottage sits atop a hill that overlooks hay fields to the North and East, an apple orchard to the South and a river, about 50 feet wide that cuts through steep red clay banks, to the West. There is a big wooden deck that lines the front and looks out over the fields to the Wentworth Valley, beyond which is PEI. In the summer, we would sit out on the front porch in the morning and eat toast and jam. My parents would drink coffee from red and white china cups and we would talk about what to do with another lazy day. 

On my mother's birthday we all sat outside and talked about dinner. A giant roast beef. Sides of potatoes, spinach pan-fried in butter, brussle sprouts, green beans from the garden and a strawberry shortcake for dessert. Biscuit style, not foamy cake. It was going to be a great day. And my father had an idea how it was going to be even better. He locked Susie in the bathroom, and when he was sure she wasn't going anywhere, he came downstairs, went to the car and fished the beautiful baby kitten out of the back seat where he'd made it a bed for the night before. He brought the cat up to the yard and presented it to my mother to celebrate her birthday and their love.

No one knows how the door was forced open. Whether my father hadn't checked the locks twice, or Susie had somehow figured them out, we'll never know. It doesn't really matter. All that really mattered was the look of shock in everyones eyes as we heard the thunder of paws tumbling down the stairs and the slam as the screen burst off it's hinges. The kitten, sensing trouble in the air took off and made a mad dash across the lawn towards the trees, and presumably safety. But its young hind quarters were simply not fast enough to carry it across the lawn in time. With five mighty bounds Susie had caught up to it, and in the middle of the lawn, in front of the whole family she sunk her teeth deep into the birthday kitten.

What happened next doesn't really bear repeating. It will be of no surprise to anyone that the image of a dog eating a kitten is not one that you want to remember too often. But let me assure all readers: it was as grizzly as anything you are imagining right now.

We never bought another pet. A few years later Susie died of a twisted stomach - typical for poodles and my parents bought another one who they affectionately named Toby. Toby plays well with others. Is kind and gentle and rests his snout on your lap quietly while you watch TV on the couch. He is a great dog - if somewhat ill-behaved in the park - and I love him very much. And yet whenever people ask me about home, as they run through the family, inquiring to how they are doing, they will inevitably ask, "And how is Susie, the killer poodle?"

Cheeeeeeeeeese!

Last night was an adventure. Not a really crazy adventre where you get too intoxicated and wake up in a holding cell at the police station at college and dovercourt, but an interesting adventure nonetheless. One of those nights where you go somewhere with no expectations and one thing leads to another and you end up somewhere you didn't think you'd ever end up, and with people you don't know.

I was running on about 4 hours sleep from my birthday drinking the night before, and I had planned to be in bed by about 9, 9:30 at the latest. However, on Thursday afternoons, at the Cameron House there is a gentleman by the name of Corin Raymond who plays guitar and sings with a backup band he calls the Sundowners. Really good folky, roots, blues country kind of stuff that tugs at your heartstrings and makes you laugh out loud all at the same time. Anywho, I try to go watch whenever I can, he plays from 6-8. So after exhausting all my options of people who would go check it out with me, I realised it was a solo mission.

I kind of really like music. Like a lot. This guy is basically a new idol of mine, after stumbling in a couple months ago looking for a pint and hearing him play. He blew my mind. So anyways, you know when you go to a bar and sometimes there's that guy sitting there with a pint and noone else, looking really awkward and kind of just glancing around the room hoping to catch someone's eye, but at the same time trying to avoid it as not to look desperate? Well that was me last night. Enjoying the tunes, having a beer, eventually I struck up some conversation with these 2 girls sitting next to me who I had seen there before. It turns out one of them was finishing her masters in Environmental Science, and weird! I work for an environmental company so that was an easy in for conversation pieces. So the two girls were sisters, one of them lived in Toronto, the other had moved to St. Catharines recently and missed Thursdays at the Cameron. The musicians had stopped playing by this point and the guy who sings, Corin, came down and sat down with them, I guess they were friends. So i was sitting on the outskirts of conversationtown pretty much dying to go home, as I was exhausted. Then Corin leaned in and said something like "Hey man, I know you, you come in here on Thursdays, I feel like I'm sitting too far away from you right now, what's your name?" It's not like this guy is a big celebrity or anything, but I was definitely fanning out a bit that he was trying to get to know me. So I told him and we talked a bit about his new album coming out, his last one etc. Then he asks me if I want to join them for some food. Next thing I knew I was on my way to Pho 88 on Spadina to have some food with these girls and Corin, all whom I've just met that night. I desperately wanted to go home, but at the same time it was one of those situations where you think "this is so random and amazing how am I NOT going to do it?"

So anyways, that was my adventure of the night. Not really a funny story, nothing crazy happened, but it was completely unexpected for me. I definitely went to bed feeling pretty happy. I didn't get the the sleep I wanted, but I'm doing alright, nothing another cup of coffee can't cure. If anybody reads this I recommend the Cameron House on Thursday evenings. I think next week is the last week of 2008 that the Sundowners will be playing, if you're gonna go, get there by 6, tables and chairs run out quick. Meet me there or give me a call.

For another kind of adventure, maybe involving a funnel, come by 749 queen st west tonight. we're throwing down. Who knows, could even be the last jam ever in Casa Belldeno.

It could be.....It could be so nice!

CELEBRATE!

In the spirit of the Mike Denby birthday celebration kicking off tonight, i have decided to write a little about celebrations from the past present and who konws maybe even the future. Let's get some feedback on this one, share a story via comment form of your favorite celebration of years past.

First i'd like to share a sentimental little story. Just about the power of Christmas. I mean let's face it Christmas rules, but it's not the same now as it was when you were a kid. I'm sure we all remember not being able to sleep Christmas Eve, and then waking up far too early and barging in on our parents to drag them downstairs so we could see whether we actually got what we were hoping for. And i mean parents always seem to come through in the holiday season. So this is a shout out to Big Mel and Little Anne for their contributions to my happiest Christmas moment. Let's set the scene. I was probably 9 or 10, and like many young Canadians i loved hockey, and more than anything i loved playing goalie. At this point i was using the rink equipment whenever i played which is smelly, disgusting, and subpar. My dream was to have my own goalie pads, i knew exactly which ones i wanted to, D&R, all white, everytime we'd go to National Sports i'd just stare at those beauties hoping and praying. Now my parents knew how much i wanted them, but i also knew they were expensive, so i never really pushed it. A day or two before the big day my mom kind of told me that she didn't want to disappoint me, but money was tight and they were just a little too expensive and didn't want me to get my hopes up. Clearly i was upset but i played it off. So anyways Christmas morning, my bro my sis and I go bounding down the stairs and into the family room. I run straight over to the tree and start looking for something with my name on it. Then i notice my parents, aswell as my bro and sis kind of watching me smiling. I'm like "what?" And they kind of motion with their eyes to my left. And leaning against the fireplace, with a big old bow on them, are my goalie pads. I'd walked right past them and hadn't even noticed. Obviously i lost it, screaming, jumping, hugging, the whole 9 yards. Never forgot that. And to top it off I even got the matching goalie glove all wrapped up, and then took my savings and bought the blocker. So is it a funny story? No not really at all, but hell i'll always remember that.

Now let's look at some other awesome celebration moments. Just quickly. There was the time Mrs. Denby planned a surprise party for Mike. We were all waiting in the basement for him, and we hear him coming down the stairs with Julien who was the setup guy. He gets to the bottom of the stairs, we scream surprise, and he's wearing a leotard over his face and like almost falls backward into the wall. That was awesome.

Then there was the time i planned an elaborate surprise party for the man you all know as "The Comfort", yes Derek Mumford. I had it all figured out, everyone was at my house waiting, mumford and i came back, i think from bowling. Before we could get into the house old Pinelli comes rolling up drunk as fuck. "So derek......were you surprised?" I'm shooting fuckin big old pointy daggers at him from my eyes, as in "shut the fuck up!" But pinelli keeps going, "Eric, was he surprised? Were you surprised? Weren't expecting that were you!" Hahha he just wasn't taking the hint. Sure enough the jig was up, i slumped my shoulders and put my head down, and we went to the basement and Derek feigned surprise!

Another great celebration night. New Year's Eve, at the Mod Club last year. Julien somehow gets kicked out super early in the night, he's absolutely smashed and proceeds to whip some snowballs at the Mod Club for a while. Ends up heading back to Denby's i believe and continues to get hammered. Eventually he decides to stumble his ass home. But it's freezing out so he tries to get a cab. As we all know New Year's Eve is not the easiest night to hail a cab, damn near impossible actually. So some guy sees him, and out of the goodness of his heart pulls over and offers Julien a lift. Favre gratefully accepts. So after some polite smalltalk the guy gets right down to it and puts his hand on Julien's lap. (i'm convinced it's the same guy from Degrassi who says to Wheels, "nothing wrong with something that feels good!") Starts rubbing Julien's leg and talking about how all he wants to do is suck his dick. Now most of us would have probably felt uncomfortable at this point and asked to get out. But young Julien, perhaps because of the cold, or the drink, just continues to repel his advances, "no i'm ok man....i'm good", until he's made it the majority of the way back to his house. Without a doubt that was one of the best, "morning after a shitshow" stories i've ever heard.

I myself have had a few memorable birthdays. The Canada Day weekend in Ottawa, where young Alex Kitz proved to be the most gracious host of all time, and when we arrived at 9 p.m. on my birthday Friday night, he had bottles of Rye, Vodka, Jager, and Rum, as well as copious amounts of beer and Redbull waiting for us. Not to mention a bag full of fireworks and tickets to a Toronto FC game. Got there at 9, drunk off my ass by 10. Great night! Then there was the time in Australia on my birthday.....actually can't tell that one....X rated! But a great night for sure! And then the best one of all in England, Colin and I an hour or two deep in our bartending shifts, colin says to me, "yo.....it's your birthday!", and i respond, "it is? Oh yeah!" That was a good year. But in fairness to me and my memory, we had joint celebrated his and my birthday a few days before.

So there's a little celebration posting to carry us into the night and the weekend. I for one am not a huge birthday guy, i don't really care, but at the same time it's always a great excuse to hang out with friends and do it up right. If you have an awesome celebration story, then post it as a comment, cause we'd all love to hear it!

Blast from the Past!

Today i will be blogging as quickly as possible. I have alot of work to do and believe it or not i've been doing it today. But myself and my old chum Michael Robert Denby were just having a little trip down memory lane as we sometimes do, and an old scenario came to mind that we both had a little giggle over, while at the same time blew our minds about how weird it truly was. Sometimes you have to take a step back and look at the situation as an outsider would just to see how truly momentous certain snapshots of time really were.

So what were we remembering? Well i'll tell you. We were recalling the fact that when we were in Grade 6 back at Old E.J. James Middle School. For a brief period of time, Mike was going out with the hottest girl in the whole school! And while this may not surprise that many people, i mean yes Mike is a hell of a specimen, you have to take into account that she was in Grade 8 at the time. So let's look back at the relationship that was Mike Denby and Janice Hutchins.

First off let's look at Janice. She was somewhat tall for her age, or at least not short. She was amazingly hot. She already had a smoking body. (This is the 11 year old Eric talking so i'm allowed to say this stuff). And there's no doubt she could have had any guy in the entire school had she wanted. She was also 13 year's old and as my old pal Mikey put it, "and like at her age she should've been making out and giving HJ's or whatever."

Now let's look at my old pal Denbasquez. Our whole crew was fresh out of elementary school, and we were 11 years old at the time. Mike was by no means a large developed boy at the age of 11, (as for me, i was 11, but i think i looked like i was 6). There's not a chance he'd made it to puberty yet. (I shouldn't know that, but i do) None of us ever hung out with girls and for the most part just played football at recess. And what you really need to look at in all this, is the fact that he was 11 and she was 13!

So just how in the hell did this happen? They didnt' have any classes together. Parties didn't exist yet, they weren't sharing danks behind the school. The answer: not a clue. I don't think anyone knows. Which is why it will remain one of the most unexplained events for all of us who were fortunate enough to witness it 17 years ago.

The Tittie Pipe (Silver Screen Edition)

On Hugh Jackman

I know a lot of people have been waiting for this post anxiously: when will Kitzy talk about everyone's favorite actor!? Well, I was approaching it with the Inside The Actor's Studio theory. I would deal with him when he catalogue was impressive enough to dissect. But with the release date for his new WWII epic Australia being pushed back again, I wonder if any more films will be added to his catalogue. Ever. So, just in case, I want to take this opportunity to talk about a subject near and dear to my heart: Hugh Jackman.

Now some of you may laugh at this. Hugh Jackman has been the butt of jokes for quite some time now. Let's face it, he hasn't exactly defined Hollywood stardom as successfully (if at all) as other actors. He had a few blockbuster hits - namely the X-Men trilogy. But that was it. he has never been seen as a leading man. He has never been the focus of tabloid rumors or late-night talk show monologues. So why do I like Hugh Jackman so much? Because he fucking acts like he has balls the size of watermelons.

No, I don't mean acts acts. Like, in movies, I'm never that blown away. But he acts, like in real life, like when he's choosing rolls, that he is the most demanded and loved actor to ever grace the silver screen. And you know what? I give him kudos for that effort.

A Brief Biography:

Look at it this way, Jackman was playing Curly McLain on TV versions of Oklahoma! deep into the 90s. In fact, until 1999. A year later he was cast, an unknown, as Wolverine in Bryan Singer's X-Men. Now, Bryan Singer had tossed out one of the best regarded movies of the 90s just a few years prior - The Usual Suspects. So there was some logic in Jackman seeing X-Men as a place where filmic geniuses hung out, shot the shit and prep'd for their bigger rolls. What Singer, I suppose didn't tell him - was that X-Men was where actors went to make money so they wouldn't have to try and surpass their previously set high-water marks. Unfortunately - or fortunately depending on your perspective - that memo was never passed around to Jackman who must have seen the set as a spring board rather than a tomb. 

Jackman's IMDB profile has the letter X more times than any non-porn actor ever should. Toss in a couple of Van Helsings and a forgettable turn in Swordfish in which his acting talents were vastly outdone by Halle Berry's titties' talents and you'll see that Jackman, ultimately, hasn't done a whole lot with his career. But it's the few roles in between his forgettable ones that make him an actor of note in my mind.

The first is The Fountain. Easily one of my favorite movies of all time. Originally a Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchette vehicle, it took Darren Aronofsky about 5 years to put the whole thing together. And it shows. It's a beautiful, mind-bending, life-changing kind of movie, and no one but me ever saw it. It was more than a bust. It was a total and complete disaster. A great movie that was far, far, FAR too long and too  inaccessible for anyone without 4 hours and a comfy couch. The studio was so shocked that Aronofsky had taken all their money and decided against making an even remotely personable movie he ended up scrounging for cash again to make his follow-up The Wrestler, which is now garnering huge Oscar buzz. And who was the actor who thought that he could carry this titanic flop? You guessed it, Hugh Jackman, whose name, upon being attached, re-convinced the studios to come up with the $60 million to finance the picture. Hugh Fucking Jackman. Never lead a film before. And here they are hanging a historical epic / sci-fi epic / love story on his flimsy resume. Gotta love the kid for trying. Even if it meant failing miserably.

So The Fountain flops, Hugh says, no problem, and heads off to rebuild his career with a few family-friendly movies. With Flushed Away, Happy Feet and the great Christian Bale film, The Prestige, Jackman puts together some semblance of a comeback. So how does he celebrate?

How about starring in and producing a remake of a quasi-successful British show about a run-down casino? Oh, and by the by, it's a musical. The show now has the dubious honor of being as close to being cancelled before the pilot even finished as any show in recent memory. The only show cancelled faster was about the Hitler's moving in to a quiet British town after the war. 

Alright, so not a great comeback. Could have been worse I guess.... Though I'm not sure how. But luckily Jackman had done the comeback before. He knew he just had to put in some hours with studio-friendly directors and everything would be okay. And what movie could be more studio-friendly than the new Baz Luhrman WWII epic Australia about an unnamed ranch hand and the woman he loved fleeing through, you guessed it, Australia? Well it turns out, just about any movie, anywhere, ever, would have been a better choice. With its release date pushed back by almost a year total now, and Luhrman shooting a new ending, it doesn't look good for ol' Hugh.

And yet - another flop only makes me respect him more. Hugh Jackman was never a great actor. He found middling success in middling films. But, perhaps more than any other actor in the past few years, he has consistently found the absolute, most doomed-from-the-start pictures possible and managed to grab the starring role. 

You know, you rarely see the successful jumps by Evel Knievel played on tv anymore. On the other hand, that one where he bails after landing? I see that on Spike every day. Similarly, I think Jackman will be remembered fondly after all of these disastrous projects. It takes talent to create even the tiniest career in show business. But it takes talent and balls of steel to create a tiny career, and the consistently careen off of cliffs and over lakes of fire at every conceivable opportunity. Jackman has made more career-destroying decisions than the oldest of Hollywood stalwarts, and for that, I tip my hat.