Canadian Vamp

There are no words for how hard I want these jerks to get fucked.

zooby — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 09:09:52 GMT

Note to self, do not eat at Nathaniel's in Owen Sound.

Apparently, some patrons have told the owners they would have been "appalled" to have been served by a woman with a shaved head. Apparently, these sub-humans have never met anyone struggling with chemotherapy and radiation sickness and motherfucking cancer, motherfuckers!

"Nathaniels owner and chef Dan Hilliard defended his decision, saying the restaurant has certain standards."

What a coinky dink. I also have certain standards. Yeah. I refuse to eat at a restaurant that does not celebrate its employees' taking part in incredibly positive and powerful fundraisers for the Canadian Cancer Society.

Fuck you, Nathaniel's. Fuck you hard. If I'm ever in Owen Sound, you can bet I'll stop by and come in and tell you what I think of you and your shitty "standards."

Aw yeah. We coo.

zooby — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 06:53:27 GMT

Create your own family sticker graphic at pYzam.com

Haven't you ever felt like you just got home?

zooby — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 09:09:23 GMT

So I just set my music player to random to see what would happen while I drank my beer and painted my toe nails. Voila. P.S. I forgot how good that peaches/strokes mashup was.

AC/DC - What Do You Do For Money Honey

The Clash - Clampdown

Willie Nelson - Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

The Sadies - Little Sadie

Harvey Scales & The Seven Sounds - Don't You Ever Let It End

Shout Out Out Out Out - Dude You Feel Electrical

Peter Bjorn and John - Teen Love

The Neins Circa - Bull Days

Peaches Vs. The Strokes - Juicebox Rock (mashup)

The Beach Boys - I Can Hear Music

Hungarian State Opera Orchestra - Dell'Elisir Mirabile

The Spice Girls - Say You'll be There

The Misfits - She

Tom Tom Club - Booming & Zooming

The Rosebuds - Silja Line

Alice In Chains - Rooster

The Slits - Number One Enemy

Bettye LaVette - You Don't Know Me At All

James Brown - Give It Up

John Coltrane - I'm Old Fashioned

Come ON, stores!

zooby — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 19:15:02 GMT

It's days after Easter, Bitches! I do NOT want to pay full price for Cadbury's cream eggs! GOD! I'm healing from the plague! I need chocolate!

Har-tee-tar-tee-tar!

zooby — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 00:32:15 GMT

I drink your Shamrock Milkshake! It does indeed bring all the boys to the yard.

Ahem. I just wanted to bring to your attention that I am drinking a delicious Shamrock Shake and you're not.

This, combined with listening to Rum, Sodomy and the Lash, means I have done my Irish duty. Even though I'm Scottish. Cuz we're all Irish today, yeah?

Why I can't have nice things. A photo essay by Tanis Fowler.

zooby — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 20:46:58 GMT

Oh hai. Nice plant.

In hiding.

Let's examine the evidence, shall we? Note chewed leaves and dirt surrounding the body.

They always return to the scene of the crime.

THIS is why I don't have plants, people. The Chairman believes everything in the universe exists to service him. I wish I could somehow set up a surveillance camera to show you the ABSOLUTE DELIGHT he takes in eating plants. My only solution to this issue to get like, 80 plants and hope he realizes he's outnumbered.

zooby — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 09:35:55 GMT

Sometimes, the Internet makes me feel like I'm in high school all over again.

Quick, somebody break up with me and then tell my best friend you're in love with her, make fun of my clothes and tell me I have a problem with authority.

I'll just go slam my door, blast some Nirvana and write angry poetry.

Screw you, Lent.

zooby — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 22:07:17 GMT

I love Ash Wednesday. Almost as much as I love Shrove Tuesday. Almost, but not quite. I mean, pancakes, amirite, Jesus?

Mainly I love it because it does me the favour of pointing out who the super-religious people are.

I greatly enjoy pointing out that they have ash on their foreheads. I suppose they can be smug and superior about it, knowing that their sins are forgiven and they will enjoy an eternal glory. Meanwhile, I only get to enjoy one day a year of pointing and laughing. I know they think I'm getting the short end of the stick, but... hahahaha! Ash!

New topic. Lent. Why should I give something up? I think, instead, I'm going to take up a disgusting habit for 40 days. It'll make me appreciate how good I am for the rest of the year, you know? Smoking, here we come!

****

It's storming. Again. I hate being in a city when it snows so fucking much. I don't mind it looking out my window, but treking around in it, getting my pants all wet, carrying multiple pairs of shoes in my bag. Bah. Humbug. I'd rather be skiing, you know?

Last night, it was so bad, that one of the reporters who lives in Kitchener-Waterloo crashed on my couch because the roads were so bad. It was fucking crazy and it is again. So this time, I'm prepared to have her stay. Last night, my apartment was a mess and I rushed around cleaning, but this time, it's guest-prepped.

I'm making beef stew too. Yum.

It's like the Justice League, but of comedy.

zooby — Tue, 05 Feb 2008 09:01:28 GMT

Look, I don't want to encourage the writer's strike, but I don't think I'm overstating things when I say last night's Late Night triad of Conan O'Brian, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert getting into physical altercations on each others' shows was the funniest thing I've seen since Norm MacDonald told Courtney Thorne Smith her new movie with Carrot Top should be called Box Office Poison.

Best line: As Conan looms over an oblivious Stewart and Colbert, Jon goes "Stephen... I feel like we're losing the light."

Second best line: "You know what your moment of zen is? Me! Going out to kick some gangly, Irish ass!"

In short, I really would totally watch it if they just fake beat each other up all night every night.

Sorry writers. I am a fickle bitch.

Added bonus: Jon had Tim Gunn on. Alllllll my sweet bitches! Together in one room. Fucking a.

It's hard out here, for a white, middle-aged rich dude.

zooby — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 19:09:54 GMT

Sorry Edwards. Maybe you can be somebody's vice president of middle-aged white maleness.

In other news: New Kids on the Block may be regrouping.

Because I know you all need to waste about half an hour watching videos of a crappy boy band: www.nkotb.com Enjoy!

Seriously, how did everybody on the face of the planet not know how horrible this was? I think my favourite part is the part where they dance.

This stuff is so bad, it makes me rethink my "*Nsync is the most hideous 'band' on the planet" proclamation. At least they figured out harmony.

God. Morning sucks.

zooby — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 17:23:17 GMT

Despite being insanely different, my brother and I get along fine when I'm at home. Usually. He simply refuses to acknowledge that I am cool, despite my awesome tolerance for alcohol and taste in music.

But if he ever calls me at 7:30 in the morning again, I will punch him in the spleen.

He was supposed to be picking me up from Regina Sunday because he has an appointment in nearby Moose Jaw, but now he doesn't want to drive. He would, he informs me, prefer to drink. It makes no nevermind to me. I can just take the bus. However, in this modern world where we both have cell phones, why not wait until a decent hour - oh, say, noon - to call and confuse me with details.

At one point in our conversation, I am fairly certain I put the phone down after saying "Just a minute." And then laid down for a second to get my bearings.

It's still raining here and all traces of snow are gone, gone, gone. It feels like spring. In October.

And the Chairman feels the change in the air. Jess gave him a crinkle ball for Christmas. And I tied it to a piece of yarn so I could throw it and drag it around for him. He currently has it wound around my legs. We'll see how much he loves me after I leave him alone with Magda for ten days.

Perhaps he will force her to listen to Iron Maiden.

Well, this suitcase won't pack itself.

P.S. - My ITunes has an hilarious sense of humour. I have it on random and it just played Al Green's Let's Get Married, followed by Liz Phair's Divorce Song.

It's going to be awesome and I'm going to be depressed by it.

zooby — Tue, 25 Dec 2007 08:27:35 GMT

It's Christmas Eve and I'm alone with my cat and we are both suffering the excesses of the season.

He is busy consuming my pink tinsel Christmas tree and its ornaments, while I am seeing what damage I can do with a bottle of spiced rum and a much smaller bottle of organic eggnog from the health food store below my apartment. So far, I've been forced to drunkenly remove the bows from the tree after he stole one and ran under the bed with it. He came out an hour ago licking his chops, but I'm too lazy to go see if he ate the whole thing or just licked the toxic glue off it.

To protest the tidings of comfort and joy the TV is offering me, I am instead preparing for the coming year of television by attempting to watch two seasons of The Wire before season 5 starts January 6.

Season 1 was about drugs and cops. Season 2 was about labour and blue-collar workers. Season 3 brought the focus back to the streets with a side order of politics. Season 4 saw a thorough dressing down of the public school system and its many failures. Season 5 will examine the mass media and how it chooses to cover or not cover news.

Here's what I know about that: It is depressing beyond the fucking telling of it.

The news is a business. And businesses answer to one boss, the bottom line. You hear all the time about dwindling circulations and cutbacks to "stem the hemoraghing of money." But the companies that run newspapers are not losing money. They're making it. Hand over fist. It's profitable, it's just not profitable enough. It's not enough to not lose money year to year; you have to make more of it. Shareholders expect profits to rise, not stay the same.

With the age of the Internet upon us, ad revenues and circulation numbers are shrinking. So newsroom jobs get cut and pages are fewer, meaning your newshole shrinks. And doing more with less is a nice phrase middle management will use to break the news of cutbacks to those who are left, but the reality is, you never do more with less, you do less with less. So burnt out reporters and editors trying to do two or three jobs are forced to produce an inferior product. This means shorter stories, selective coverage and fewer eyes seeing stories before they go to press, which results in sloppy reporting, missed stories and mistakes and errors. All of which pushes more readers away. Which means less revenue, which means more cuts, which means ... you get the picture. The end result is a dying medium which will never recover from the blows it is taking, especially if it's not allowed to invest in capital to better itself.

Damn. Now I'm depressed.

Something to ease the depression: Homicide's Clark Johnson is starring this season as a city editor at the Baltimore Sun. He'll also direct the final episode of the series. A nice bookend, since he also directed the first.

There's another added bonus. Richard Belzer makes an appearance as none other than John Munch, the character he originated on Homicide more than a decade ago. This character has appeared on Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: Trial By Jury, Law & Order, Arrested Development, The Beat, The X-Files, Homicide and the Simpsons.

Happy-Happy, Merry-Merry everybody!

The Red Bells Rang Like Thunder

zooby — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 12:12:54 GMT

Robert William "Willy" Pickton found guilty of six counts of second degree murder.

Six down. Twenty to go. No guarantee he'll even go to trial on those, but because of differing evidence, they're first degree charges. The current convictions mean six life terms. In Canada, a guilty verdict on second degree means 25 years with no chance of parole. So they might think "He's not ever getting out. He'll die in prison. Why put the families through an expensive trial for which we will NEVER find an impartial jury?" But the Crown is preparing its case, so who knows?

I'm tired and sad. I wrote about it here.

Goodnight.

Oh, Christmas Tree.

zooby — Sun, 09 Dec 2007 05:07:42 GMT

The ugliest tree in the world.

Admit it, sometimes, you think Lucy is right. A nice, aluminum christmas tree, preferably pink, would be better than some Charlie Browner.

This is actually NOT the ugliest tree in the world. The ugliest tree in the world costs 94 cents at Wal-Mart. This tree cost $4.94. I am nothing if not klassy.

I also bought decorations and lights for it. I'll post those photos tomorrow cuz I'm too lazy to upload more tonight. But know this: when purchasing decorations, I asked myself two questions: "Does this have enough glitter on it?" And "Does this come in a more lurid pink?"

Evil and a heathen

zooby — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 17:22:59 GMT

My parents were the anti-religious hippies of the neighbourhood. They didn't care if we went to church and couldn't care less that we had no bible learnin'.

So I do not know why I remember watching this creepy TV show.

Oh, Hi, Marci Ian! I recognize you from Canada AM! I'm glad my trusted broadcasters were on weird Christian shows as children. I am also frightened by the commercial for the "devil-stompin'" kids club.

Here's a parable of bridesmaids I remember from that show. I can't embed it for some reason. Jesus is exactly like a bridegroom. Always keep your lamp lit and your legs closed for when Jesus Christ comes to take you away and deflower you on your wedding night. That's what happens, right? I don't know because I'm a lazy bridesmaid. My lamp went out long ago. Jesus the bridegroom has locked the door to the wedding party.

WHY am I watching this instead of Heroes?

Mmmmboy!

zooby — Sun, 02 Dec 2007 19:24:18 GMT

Today, I woke up and it smelled like bacon. Maple bacon. Well, I don't usually get up until 1 p.m., so I was hungry. I walked into the living room to find that the Chairman had taken the bag of butterscotch chipits I set out to make muffins with this morning and dragged it (open) from the kitchen to the living room, leaving a trail of chipits in his wake. I imagine he thought it was a bag of cat treats. He didn't eat any of them though. Sucker!

Consequently, I no longer want muffins. I want maple bacon. So I have to go to the store. And it's storming. Which means I'm going to be lazy and go to the close store, which is expensive. Damn you, cat! I just picked him up and kissed him square on the nose as punishment. He hates that.

I should probably justify this purchasing of bacon with a long walk.

Dammit.

P.S. Paul F. Tompkins is hilarious. I'm listening to his bit about the Irish potato famine and KILLING MYSELF laughing.

"Ohhhh! My belly's all bloated and distended! I'm dyin! If only I had a potato! Ohhhh sweet baby Jaysus! Please make it rain potatoes! I'm dyin!"
"Why don't you have some corn?"
"I don't like corn!"
"Are you sure? You probably have never even tried it!"
"Ohhhh yes I have! I've tried corn! Remember at that wedding, they had corn that time? Not my favourite. That's all I'll say."
"You gotta do something. Just eat some corn!"
"See I've got a problem with textures. Some things feel weird in my mouth and corn's just gross to me. Forget it."
"Fine, why don't you just go ahead and starve to death."
"Ah, yeah! That's what I was doing before you had to interview me for your book about corn!"

His delivery and fake Irish accent is awesome.

I love balls!

zooby — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 17:19:13 GMT

I am taking it as a shout out to Boob Tube that last night on Ugly Betty, Willhemina said "Balls!" to express her displeasure! I seriously laughed really loud.

all the weird kids up front/tell me what you know you want

zooby — Tue, 16 Oct 2007 23:03:53 GMT

Spoon was so awesome I think I died and went to rock and roll heaven.

Jess and I were up at the front at first, but then we moved because there were these three frat boys dancing around drunkenly and taking their shirts off. It was ridiculous. So we left and moved to the other side of the stage. Where we then encountered the tri-fecta of Tall Dudes. No offence tall dudes, because I know a lot of you and you are, without a doubt, awesome. HOWEVER, you know who's also awesome? Short girls. And we're both like, 5'7", so it's not like we're that short. But we CANNOT SEE PAST YOUR GIANT HEADS! If you're tall, stand at the back or the side. Or crouch. Sorry dudes, that's the way it is. There was one tall dude standing directly behind me and his slightly shorter friend wanted to move up and I saw him kind of eye us being bitter and short and go "Naw, I'm good here." Smart move, Tall Dude. Cuz I'll cut ya.

Britt Daniel earned even more of my everlasting love by calling out "Hey frat brothers!" in a sarcastic manner to the above-mentioned fratties.

They played for two hours and came out for two encores. Eat your heart out, Springsteen, who was also playing in Toronto last night.

They have a ton of material from which to draw, so it was nice to hear stuff from Kill the Moonlight and Girls Can Tell and Gimme Fiction. They seemed surprised that so many people showed up. He kept saying what an amazing turnout it was, that they'd been playing Toronto for years and this was an extremely good turnout and thanked the crowd numerous times.

I wish they would have been more optimistic. Because they didn't bring enough Merch and it was sold out in like, five minutes. I really wanted to buy a poster from the show. Oh well. Somebody needs to give me a crash course on ebay in case I come across one. OR, Spoon needs to put it up for sale at their store. Pls. Pls. Pls.

All-in-all, Spoon is going on my best-of 2007 show list for sure.

I came back to Guelph today to a sink full of dirty dishes and an extremely pissed off cat. He'd eaten the FOUR cans of food I left for him and was yowling at the top of his voice as I peed. I was like "SHUT UP! You could live for two weeks off your stored fat!"

Then I had a nap and a shower and came in to work and here I sit. Tired as hell and hoping somebody will buy me coffee and chilli soon.

I don't want to be your friend/I just want to be your lover

zooby — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 19:31:42 GMT

Dear Radiohead,

I lu bbs.

XOXOXO,

Tanis

Friday Night Lights is balls

zooby — Sat, 06 Oct 2007 00:36:06 GMT

Friday Night Lights is balls-to-the-wall the most BORING show I have ever seen in my entire life. Not even my secret love of Kyle Chandler's show where he got the newspaper a day early was enough to carry me through.

I'd rather watch bionic women, nightgown-wearing ghost whisperers, hot super heroes and time-travelling doctors any day of the week. Hell, I'll watch MOONLIGHT before I watch FNL.

Do you know what show is awesome? Ugly Betty. Marc RULEZ! Henry drunk on wine coolers RULEZ! Amanda and her creepy rat dog RULEZ! Daniel and his hotness RULEZ! Alexis and her boob-squeezing RULEZ! Judith Light just RULEZ in general!

I also really enjoyed the pilot of pushing daisies, but I'm a big fan of Bryan Fuller's obsession with death/things coming to life, so that's no big surprise. Also, How I Met Your Mother has been legend - wait for it - ary! Slap bet countdown has begun!

And I still love Heroes. So glad Nathan and Peter are still hottin' it up like the hot hotties they are. Save the world, hotties, save the world real good! Though I'd like to have Claude come back now, please?

***

My friend is coming here this weekend for Thanksgiving and she's not only a vegetarian, but allergic to yeast, gluten, nuts and milk. Those things comprise like, 60% of my diet! I would die without carbs, people. DIE. I love eating my veggies, don't get me wrong, but a world without pasta and bread is a world without happiness.

So she's bringing tofurkey and green beans and I'm going to roast a turkey breast and mash up some sweet potatoes and make my famous lemon merengue pie and like the pilgrims and the indians, we'll meet in the middle. Possibly with mais.

Before dinner, we're going canoeing on the Grand River and I can't wait! It's supposed to be like, 26-30 degrees all weekend. I can't believe that. Last year, I was wearing like, 30 layers and drinking Irish coffee (Okay, whiskey) and watching the Rolling Stones play at Taylor Field. Canada is so weird.

Tomorrow, I have a laundry list of things to do that includes cleaning, organizing, laundry, buying a new DVD player and a copy of Death Proof (ZOE BELL RULEZ!) and doing a trial run of the 5 km race course for Monday's Thanksfgiving Day races. So no boozing tonight for me.

One more thing: I saw the trailer for the Sweeney Todd and I think it looks hella awesome. That is going to be so much fun to see at Christmas! Yeah! Slash 'em good Johnny! And God bless us every one!

An aural palate cleanser.

zooby — Fri, 28 Sep 2007 22:17:13 GMT

You know how, after awhile, you start to be bored by the music you listen to every day, so you take a little break? Maybe listen to something else, something completely different to get away from your typical aural landscape? sleestak and I have chatted about this phenomenon before. I tend to branch away from my rockin' indie pop and punk to really poppy pop, like mainstream pop or country stuff from Corb Lund and Neko Case, or even some AC/DC.

I've been listening to Spoon non-stop since I got it. I will never ever get sick of that album. But I need a break from the other stuff I've been listening to. Lots of Radiohead and Pulp lately, plus my usual smattering of punk and soul. And that music is really great, but really, I don't know, dense. I listen to it with everything I have. I need a reprise.

So suggest something for me to listen to, friends! Anything! I promise I'll give it a try. I need something to jog me out of this.

Also, I've been continuing my running program, so if any of you have favourite songs to run to, let me know that too. I tend to run based on songs. Like, I know a certain song is 4 minutes long, so I'll run right through it, walk for a minute, then run through a five minute song. So any good workout music you could recommend would be appreciated too.

The secret ingredient in the secret is balls.

zooby — Fri, 21 Sep 2007 10:08:42 GMT

The Secret. Let's discuss this snake oil again, shall we?

First of all, if this book/DVD had an actual old lamp in it that I could rub and have a genie appear? I would be all the fuck over that. It wouldn't be a secret for long because I would be fucking selling that shit on EBay to the highest bidder. In which case, I guess the Secret really would work because I would be one rich motherfucker.

I am bringing this up AGAIN because my best friend just mailed me a few things I'd left in Calgary. She helpfully included a copy of The Secret book. Which I just as helpfully mentioned numerous times that I think is the biggest load of delusional crap I have ever heard.

I cannot tell you enough how incredibly heinous I find this type of "just believe it and it will be yours!" bunk. There's nothing wrong with visualizing what you want and writing it down and thinking about it and REALLY figuring out how to go about getting it. That's actually really important in goal-setting and career evaluations and whatnot. But the secret of the Secret is: Just want it. Just want it a lot. Let the universe know you want it. Give it over to the universe and the universe will reach into its magic bag and just give you what you want without you having to do anything.

The immortal Bill Watterson once penned a Calvin & Hobbes strip where Calvin opines "I wish I could just push a button to get anything I wanted immediately." Hobbes rolls his eyes and says "The American dream lives on."

They've dressed it up in metaphysics and forces and mystical powers and ancient sects and cloisters and shit, but the people behind The Secret want you to believe that there is just such a button. Some magical force in the universe. A genie, if you will. Don't believe me? It's right there in the video! A guy steals a magic lamp, rubs it, a genie pops out and says "Your wish is my command." Well, that's just a metaphor, you say. IS IT?

Is a genie any more ridiculous than a kid wishing for a bike, drawing a bike on a piece of paper, really vizualizing the bike, visiting the bike store and pining after his bike and asking the unvierse to take care of it, only to wake up and find his kindly old grandfather has bought him a bike? Instead of, I don't know, saving his money, doing some hard work to earn more money, investing in the stock market and buying a bike with his own pile of cash? Or, I don't know, pooling money with neighbourhood kids to buy one bike and taking turns on it, if rampant capitalism isn't your bag. The first scenario is just one of many ridiculous examples put forth on the Secret DVD.

I don't have anything against meditation or Feng Shui or trying to bring positive forces into your life or anything like that. Enlightenment is different. Wanting to know yourself and be more in tune with the world around you and your own thoughts and moods and desires is different than imploring the universe to give you a box of money or diamond encrusted puppies or high-yield bonds or whatever. The Secret conditions you to believe that you DESERVE everything you want just because you're you. You're special, and there's this sense of entitlement that goes along with that. Do we have to have the Fight Club talk about how you are not a perfect special snowflake? If you want something, by all means, go out and get it. Work hard. Be positive about your life. But do not expect to have things handed to you because you asked for them. They impress upon you a culture of Win Win Win. It can be extremely difficult the first time you lose.

The Secret also teaches you to brainwash yourself. I very much remember the first time my best friend tried to get me to do this. I was bitching about being broke and she was like "Just open your mind to money and money will come to you!" I humoured her. And a GST cheque came in the mail. I told her this and she was like "SEE?!" See what? That a cheque I knew to be coming was delivered on time? Even if I hadn't "opened my mind to money" that cheque would have come. So I said "Sooo... basically, I'm brainwashing myself into believing I had something to do with this? This is the secret?" That... did not go over so well. It was the first indication I had that if I continued to poke holes in her "secret" theory that we would not continue to be such close friends. That and her numerous attempts to pull me into Landmark Education Seminars. She appears to have given up on that and is now focusing on the soft sell by mailing me a book. If I get into the Secret, it stands to reason I'll be gullible enough to fall for Landmark. I'm torn between keeping the copy she sent for LULZ and sending it back with a sticky note saying "Thanks, but no thanks. I am not interested in this. I think it is garbage. Please stop forcing it on me."

Let me tell you how to make a millions dollars! First thing you do is, you pretend you have something everyone else wants. Then, you pretend it's very hush-hush. "Keep it on the down-low folks! This is strictly confidential! I only tell you. And every other person who buys a copy of my DVD/book." Then you tell people they can have whatever they want. It's aaaalllll within their grasp if they just apply the methods you so thoughtfully detailed in your best-selling book/video services. Make sure it's all wrapped up to look like some ancient, wax-sealed, Harry Potter/DaVinci Code scroll shit. Sell the FUCK out of that. And if the people to whom you peddle your snake oil don't get what they want, then imply it's because they weren't vigilent enough. They were doing it wrong. Supply them with the tools to help them help themselves through the law of attraction! All available for the low-low price of whatever you decide they should pay.

Say, did you know that musicians such as Ludwig van Beethoven expressed The Secret through their music? Yeah, I totally remember Beethoven's 9th Symphony: Prelude to GIMME-GIMME.

The only people the law of attraction really works for are the self-help gurus/motivational speakers who motivate themselves to speak about how they will motivate you to give them money. If the secret were as great as people say it is, they'd just give it away for free. In fact, they do! You can learn all about the mid-eastern philosophies and religions The Secret and other crapfests of its ilk wrap themselves up in at your local library. My friend tried to sell me on The Secret that way. Her: "You looked into Buddhism once, right?" Me: "Yeah. More than once. I still kind of dig it." Her: "Well Landmark is based on principals of Buddhism!" Me: "Gripper... if I want Buddhism, I'll study Buddhism. Not Buddhism by way of Landmark."

Besides, studying Buddhism is free. At the library, I pay them $2 and I get a maaaagical plastic card that lets me have alllll the books I want! Landmark sessions are $500 a pop. Wow. Look at that. I just visualized not turning my pockets inside out for a pyramid scheme! Money may not be coming to me at this very moment, but it's also not leaving my bank account to pay for the summer home of a motivational speaker with a marketing degree.

Somehow in all this, I have been labelled a disbeliever. A skeptic. A Another way she tried to get me: "My brother is the biggest skeptic ever and he gets something out of it." Me: "The biggest skeptic ever? I doubt that, or he wouldn't have fallen for this." Her: "Why won't you just try it!?" Me: "Because if I try it and tell you first hand that it's balls, I'll hurt your feelings." So now, other than a book slipped into my parcel, she's given up on me. See, my life is so sad because I don't have what she has. Namely, a lot of Secret-related merchandise. You should buy the DVD! You should get the book! You should... realize that the only real secret is determination, focus and hard work.

***

I'm off to visit Burlington Ikea to visualise up a couch and then witness Ryan Adams in all his GUITAR SOLO! yelling glory.

Givin' it away for free

zooby — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 23:39:42 GMT

I think I might have mentioned briefly that I have yet another blog project on the go.

This time, my pop culture fancy turns to music. It makes the people come together, this I know, for Madonna told me so.

My former Fort Awesome roommate, skumbucket, (AKA Pat), his twin Jer and friend Henry and I have formed the Sound Salvation Army, an MP3 blog. Because the Internets simply doesn't have enough of them.

We are coming for you, music. Don't fight it. Resistance is futile.

Today, I posted my first entry. I pay tribute to former Pulp frontman, (current lead singer of wizarding rock band the Weird Sisters) Jarvis Cocker cuz it's his birfday and his solo album, Jarvis, is so fucking good it hurts. It hurts so good. Thank you, John (Cougar? Jess will find this funny.) Mellencamp, for giving me that line.

Anyway, check us out! We rule! Bookmark us! Download songs we like! Read our ramblings! Enjoy our cheeky mixtapes!

I must also take this opportunity to continue to pimp Boob Tube. My fellow bloggers, jess_d_ripper and rockgeisha are merrily and wittily ripping the networks new orifices over their new fall shows. Just because I think Bionic Woman looks dumb doesn't mean I won't be watching every cheesy minute.

"There is such a thing as a tesseract."

zooby — Sat, 08 Sep 2007 02:31:56 GMT

Reading has always been my favourite and math has always been my least favourite.

When I was 10, I read A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. I had no idea that I was, essentially, reading about math and physics.

The ideas made sense to me in a way most math didn't. Pluses and minuses were difficult because the answers were just there. They were cold and hard, like somebody lecturing. My dad, holding up flashcards. Memorizing stuff was easy, but nobody could explain why I was doing it or what it would mean to me. To this day, numbers scare the crap out of me, but the ideas in science fiction books like A Wrinkle in Time and Sphereland, which I discovered when I was about 12, where easier to grasp, more adaptable. I could imagine them in my head and understand the concepts. It was just my imagination and somebody else's imagination having a conversation about dimensions that made absolute sense to me.

So thanks, Madeleine L'Engle. You helped adult me realize that child me was not stupid. Reading and math aside, you taught me at a very young age that thinking was fun.

You know what I love?

zooby — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 20:14:59 GMT

I love lamp.

Happy Ballsday, Salome!