Wednesday, December 30, 2009

I'm not dead!

My computer, however, is. Either I buy a new one, or buy the new pieces.
Anyway, much to say, and 34 minutes to say it. New job, new snow, new relations, new year! I left the club to bartend in the restaurant upstairs, owned by the same company. It is awesome. Amanda and I are no more, I am ok with it. She has stuff in life, and I am happy not owning stuff. Whistler and its inhabitants have just about finished the Christmas rush. Next up is the VANOC rush, then the Olympic Rush, followed by the Paralympic Rush and ending with the TWSSF, the Telus World Ski and Snowboard Festival in April. I personally think that the Fest will be off the chain, as the Whistler scene will be fresh in everybody's mind. Plus, the local crowd will have the "We did it" factor going so they'll (we'll?) be wanting to rage it. Long story short: what has two thumbs and won't get a break from the insanity until May?

This guy!

Central America beckons.

New layout for the future blogs: in addition to the shit on my mind that I enjoy writing ever so much, I will be going all Perez Hilton on yo' asses with respects to the celeb spotting that will inevitably happen over the coming months. Why not eh? First up: Paris Hilton, yes THAT one. She was partying for hire allegedly. As the story goes, you pay her obscene amounts of cash so that you can be a somebody with her. Is this what the world is coming to? On a similar note, Tiger woods has been in a spot of bother recently (He sat on Santa's knee, and when he said Ho Ho Ho! Tiger said "Where Where Where?") Anyway, my point is this. He broke the previous record for the number of consecutive days a story has been covered on the front page of the New York Post. 20 days beat the previous story, which for those of you taking notes, was the World Trade Centre collapse... Again, really? I don't want to be a part of that society, thank you very much. Bring on the snow and the road closures from Vancouver.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Why we love it

Let's set the scene here: After 2 years with my girlfriend, the time has come for her to go home to Melbourne via Vegas. I'm looking to follow, as soon as I save up the AU$5000 it will cost me to get there. The problem is, in this town, saving is harder than you would think. Everybody has some party that they know of, some reason to have a beer, or some new adventure, which, while potentially cheap, still adds up to the big bite out of your paycheck. Basically, this means I likely won't be getting on a Qantas flight until maybe a year from now, and I really didn't think it would hit me as hard as it did. An entire year of phone calls on birthdays and anniversaries and Saturdays.

My point being: We shut the cable off yesterday, and rather than hear the sound of my own pathetic self in my apartment, I threw on some music. But what to play? Some punk for the angst? Some blues? Or do I go the other way and play Pet Sounds to cheer me up? In the end I decided on James Morrison's debut album 'Undiscovered'. It's pretty awesome in and of itself, and he being a good friend of my sister's I felt like I had some familiar company around.
What hit me next, amid my sorrow, is the sudden realisation of why I (and likely many people) dig music so much. Here I am feeling alone in the world, everything has been turned on its head, and Morrison's song 'Wonderful World' lines up, the chorus of which being:

I know that it's a wonderful world
But I can't feel it right now
I thought that I was doing well
But I just want to cry now...

That's the crux of it: No matter how upset or lonely you feel, someone has been there before you. Not only that, someone has had the decency to put it into words and add music, so that you feel empathy from the artist. It's like JM is saying "I'm right there with you. It sucks, but I get where you are in life."

You have no idea how comforting that can be.

Actually, chances are, you have every idea of how comforting it can be. We've all been there.

By The Way: If anyone wants to donate any money towards my cause, feel free to comment!

Monday, July 27, 2009

Doughnuts and dog food

My, it has been a while. Onwards and upwards!

So, if you noticed my Twitter profile a couple of weeks ago, you will have seen my exciting Tim Horton's news; namely, there will finally be one in Whistler Village. This is important for a number of reasons. Firstly, it means that some of the many coffee shops may go out of business, even, dare I say it, the evil Satanbucks. (It happened in Melbourne after all!) While many will mourn the death of the latte as they know it (with the half caff, hazelnut, skinny soy, extra hot squiggles on the side) I for one will hoot and holler. It seems no one knows the true reasons as to why such a Canadian institution has taken so long to set up shop in its playground. One theory is that the franchise owner for the Sea to sky corridor (the area covering Whistler to Vancouver) doesn't see a reason to fork out astronomical rent in Whistler when many will make the pilgrimage south. Another is that the aforementioned 'Bux has a monopoly contract with Whistler-Blackcomb (we are a "resort community" after all, a Mickey Mouse Disneytown- did you know clotheslines are classed as eyesores in Whistler?) and TH is not allowed in. Still another (and this is the one I like best) is that the Hortons refuse to charge more than a set price for their coffee, which would make the competition impossible to compete with (remember this is an ontario based company in a place with many ontario borns calling the west coast home; think of the pride...) It could be a combination of the three, and maybe more that we don't know about.
Where this makes for interesting reading is when you throw the 5 rings in to the, er, ring. The coffee shop has been a major (and I mean MAJOR) sponsor of the Canadian Olympic team for years, as well as for hundreds of kid's teams sports across the country. With around 200 days left until the curtain goes up, the chase is on to show that national pride. But what about after March? Will our favourite doughnut shop up and leave like me, the international athletes, and the father in a country and western song?

In Other News, I am pretty amazed at how well cats and dogs are eating lately. Chicken, Salmon Florentine (I mean for God's sake), even Cranberries and Cheese! It's a damn cat! And that cat is eating better food and more rounded diet than I am. Save this food for Africa, where people really ARE starving hungry.

By The Way: I can't find it online, but the new Baskin Robbins Soft Serve Commercial is friggin spectacular. If I can fish it out, I'll post it especially on its own little bloggy-wog.
UPDATE: I just found it! Laugh away!

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

I just found this news article from the Daily Telegraph.

Normally, when I say I don't understand something, it means either I haven't look into it more, or the topic is so alien that I have no reference to base my opinion. This is both confusing and alien. The news story is a blurb at best, and I don't get why the guy was arrested for high fiving someone.

As a major high-five enthusiast I am outraged. As a member of the food and beverage industry I am blown away. But more importantly, if everyone in whistler was fined for high fiving as an indicator to how drunk they are, or were serving drinks to said high-fivers and were fined, there would be nobody in the bars and a lot of poor bartenders.

Questions and comments please.

By The Way: I highly recommend Robin Williams' 2006 underdog 'Man of the Year'. Part standup, part conspiracy, it scratches all the itches.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Poor Poor Detroit

I should start this entry by apologising for my tardiness. Its been almost 6 weeks since my last entry and I feel I have let my subscribers down. Both of them. (Hi Bry and Bree!)


So the Pittsburgh Penguins won the Stanley Cup. That's pretty awesome. A team that for years was destined for the chop has beaten the odds with the help of a 21 year old captain, who is, based on both the amount of women at the bar cheering for the Pens and also the interviewing of said women, is "f**king hot, but he needs to shave."
Playoff 'beards' aside, it disgust me when people jump on the bandwagon at the best of times, but when that many women who don't know the names of ANY other player on Pittsburgh's side, it amazes me how much they are geared toward sex. Think about THAT guys, the next time you get caught watching beach volleyball. They can watch it to see legs and ass, why can't we?

But, the point of this post is to commiserate with Detroit. Not as a team (though they started off strong, they couldn't keep the pressure, and their last ditch effort was a classic example of 'too little, too late') but as a city. They were first known as motor city, then as the birthplace of Motown. Well, the latter has all but died off - the term "black music" now refers more to gangstas of the lowest common denominator like 50 cent, or soulful bullshit a la Chris "Rihanna-Bashing" Brown or Ush "I'm-a-tool-but-I-can-dance" er.
As for the cars... the less said the better.

Due to the economy's collapse (hadn't you heard?) combined with the coming clean of the Big Three Auto companies - specifically, that they couldn't afford to buy the coffee for their employees, much less compete with an ever growing Eastern market that makes cheaper, more efficient cars - Detroit has imploded, with 1/3 of its inhabitants unemployed, and the rest just moving away. The average price for a house in Motorless City as of 3 days ago...


For a f**king house.

You can buy a decent Ford for that... (too soon?)

Back to the matter at hand. The Cup was all these people had going for them. Good hardworking, blue-collar, salt of the earth people, who LOVE their hockey like fat kids love deep fried cheese, and whose only shred of hope was Chelios, Osgood, and the rest kicking some nu-skool Pen ass. Now what? I can all but guarantee that the old timer Red wings will retire. Chelios is 48, for God's sake. He was playing pro hockey in 1981. Think about it. That's right, most of us know people YOUNGER THAN THE DETROIT CAPTAIN'S CAREER! Therefore, the steelworkers who grew up with these guys will most certainly lose faith in their fair city. I weep for another team, like the islanders a few years ago, who lost their real hockey fans and not the fans who were wearing diapers 20 years ago.

By The Way: A man who strives to learn everything about physics is a genius. A man who strives to learn everything about architecture is a visionary. A man who strives to learn everything about music, art, or wine is a snob. Discuss.
Website of the week: is as good as it sounds.

Monday, May 4, 2009

So I'm in the South of England. The occasion? My sister's 19th birthday (May 1st) as well as a general catch up with family and - to a lesser extent - friends. Life moves on, I guess. Now I have been here for almost a week, and between wrestling with jet lag and wrestling my sisters dog - a clinically retarded Chocolate lab with an oral fixation - for the many remote controls, shoes and plastic bags he decides he needs to chew on, there's something I have noticed. Having been to a few bars since being here, it appears that nobody knows how to bartend. I went to a restaurant bar/grill and it took no less than 10 minutes for two cocktails - a Lynchberg lemonade, and a fruity rum drink for my sister. She made them one at a time, and didn't appear to know what was in them. Maybe the girl was new, I don't know. What I do know was that, not for the first time on this trip, I wanted to jump the bar, make it myself, and give her the money. Ah well. I suppose if you're strapped for cash and know your Jack Daniels from your Jose Cuervo, get a job in England.

In other news, I found this great comic online that i have been reading all morning. Subnormality deals with science in a non geek way, humour in an off the wall way, and its hatred of Nickelback in a glorious way. Which got me thinking: I don't think I know anyone that likes Nickelback. I don't even know of anyone that likes Nickelback, although Google gives 11,400 hits for "I love nickelback" and under 3,000 for "I hate Nickelback". There's proof right there that the world is a fundamentally flawed place.
Here's the real kicker: I love music, and I roll with people who share my tastes. (No wonder we get along so well.) How then, is this, this and this happening?
Just thought I would alert the world to some injustice, that's all.

By The Way: I am hungover. But it's that horrible kind, the one where you think you've dodged it when you wake up, then around 10am it kicks you in the stomach. I haven't worn anything but sweatpants all day.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Web Roundup

Well, I'm in England. Jet lagged to death, and not sure what's what, but I'm here. My sister turns 19 today, and we're going to go see X Men Origins tonight. I don't know when the transition goes from fan to "fan boy", but I must be crossing the line soon. Forgive me if my prose isn't up to code, and I thought I'd do a quick Stumbleupon recap of my latest greatest finds. is a free webradio with a difference. This is one of the first websites I discovered with SU, and made me realise how much fun the browsing app can be. Essentially, you can click on a small mood map depending on how you are feeling(where the vertical axis goes from energetic to calm, and the horizontal goes dark to positive) and not only will it generate a playlist, it also creates a visual map leading to a song and artist fitting to your mood. Genres are categorised by colour, and you can also browse by year. The best is that it will pick songs you may not have heard of or wouldn't have thought to listen to on your iPod. And it's free. will set you up.

Next, if you think you're having a bad day all you need to do is check in at one of the following sites depending on your mood. - confess your sins, it says in the header - is for the voyeur who doesn't want to actually see any dirty business, just wants to hear about it. Its an open forum where people who hate having some secret can air their grievances. Anonymously. That's the best part: anonymity = honesty. It's like your own little soap opera. Most are relationship related... that doesn't look right. Most are to do with cheating or having feelings for a forbidden other, but once in a while you get some gems:

I’m tired of lying to my friends and family, saying that everything’s fine. I’m tired of not having the ambition to do anything productive with my life. I’m tired of trying to be someone I’m not just because everyone else expects it of me. I’m tired of letting every opportunity pass me by because of my constant fear of failure. I have a flight that’ll take me miles away in a month, which I was already going to take for the summer, and I’m planning on trying to rebuild my life where it takes me. I’ve already been planning the note I’ll leave for my family to read, telling them that it has nothing to do with them except that my love for them is keeping me from killing myself instead.
It opens up a side of you that you didn't know you had. How can these people have no one to talk to except a bunch of lurkers on a website? Heartaches all round.

For something a little lighter, F*** My Life has mini anecdotes galore, usually involving nosey or embarrassing parents, but not always:

Today, I didn't have any money to buy a tampon from the dispenser at my school but my hands are small enough so I can just slide them up and grab one. My hand got stuck in the dispenser and my school had to call the fire department. Now everyone calls me tampon girl.

Today, a random girl called me asking for one of her friends. She wouldn't believe me when I told her she had the wrong number, and I spent few minutes convincing her she did. After a while she said "what the fuck" and hung up. That was the longest conversation I had with a girl in months.

I'm not going to lie; I frigging love this site. Its juvenile, but it takes 10 seconds to read, and chances are it'll make you laugh.

I think that's it for now...
Except the very awesome trailer for the apparently awesome movie The Hangover.

By The Way: I miss English beer. Bishop's Finger of the Shepherd Neame brewery in Faversham, Kent, is like a tasted memory.

Friday, April 17, 2009

U S of Eh!

The advantage of living so close to the American border is the peephole into what our Southern neighbours see as news. I'm watching King5 News at Noon, from Washington state. There's a few stories catching my eye though.

First, "Sizzling Hot", the story they broadcast on how burger chains are using scantily clad women to sell their food. Burger King's "I Like Square Butts" ( is friggin awesome. Carl's Jr. meanwhile, ( is... interesting. I can kind of see the problem American families have with these ads. Let's look at Burger King first.

For starter's its a great idea. Spongebob + catchy 90s song + fast food = most of the target demographic in one fell swoop. And it's funny as hell. Mom's argument is that "Nickelodeon has authorised its most popular character to promote lechery". That last word is a little harsh, but I get what they're saying.

Carl's Jr took me a little more research (emphasis on 'little'. Thanks Wikipedia!). The woman in the ad, Padma Lakshmi, is the host of Top Chef, a reality TV show as well as a successful model. It's pretty damn sexual, and there's cleavage a-floppin' everywhere. Again, point taken.

Next item on the news: A group of parents are protesting a coffee stand as the uniform for their baristas (all female I assume) is at best a unique marketing ploy, and at worst "the sex trade being sold to our children."

Bunny Baristas (there's a clue) is a small drive-thru coffee house becoming known for the girls dressing up as Playboy Bunnies: bikinis, with rabbit ears and tails.

Come to think of it, I can imagine the group of "parents" is likely also made up of mostly female members...

On one forum a member describes them as being "red hot" as a business idea in Washington. The catch, of course, is that the coffee shop is located in the car park of two day care centres, on a school bus route. Sorry - centers. Damn my spelling!

Once again, I can see the cause for concern. But in each of these cases, the offenders have utilised the most commmonly known mantra in advertising: Sex Sells.

Secondly, the response is far too great for the problem. Not the protest in the last story - hey, first amendment it up for all I care. I'm talking about the severity of their opinions such as the quote above, taken from a protestor's sign. This is an actual quote from an interviewee:

They’ve been asking their teachers, they’ve been asking their moms why they are seeing breasts and vaginas when they’re on their way to school and back... It’s not fair to have sex trades and adult entertainment in front of children.

I didn't realise full-on lapdances were being performed on the streets! And do you know any 6 year olds that know what 'vagina' is? My point is that an issue is only as big as the backlash. If a kid drops the F-bomb, we chastise him. But if we didn't, would he still use it as a swear?

Bring the Bunnies north of the border, I know of more than one person that would welcome them with open pants. I mean arms.

Sports and weather are next.

By The Way: Stanley Cup Playoffs just started, and guess what? The Leafs aren't in it. Ah well. Oh, and it's pissing down for the first day of the Telus Festival.
I bet you guys only watched the 2nd ad after I mentioned the word 'cleavage', too.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Emperor's new clothes

First of all,

I ask you why.

Maybe I've been too long in the fashion sense of Whistler (i.e. toques, trainers and goggle tans) but Men in leggings is taking the piss somewhat. I will admit I have fallen victim to fashion - I am wewaring my Converse Classics as I type - but seriously, I cannot think of one of my friends that would jump at the option of tights. Some of my lady friends don't even like them.

Thats all for now.

By The Way: Telus Festival is shaping up to be a good one, and I just got me a lucrative bartending job! Go to for info and deals on hotels... $74 per night including lift ticket anyone?

Friday, April 10, 2009

Smokin Hot

Fuck smokers.

That's right, I said it. Fuck. Smokers.

I love my baby, but it seems she is a "recovering cigarette addict". Which means she smokes when she's drunk. I need to iterate something here: I told her when we first started to get serious that I don't do the smoke (no pun intended), to the point that I said I would remove marijuana from my life if she could do the same with cigs.

I made that promise out of love. I made it because I know she hates when I get all high around her, and I respect that. People are douches when they're high and you aren't. Out of the past 15 or so months, she has (to my knowledge anyway) been smoking whilst "drunk" for the past 6. I on the other hand have been high maybe 6 times since that promise.

Here's where I want to smash heads: When her fellow smokers decide that I'm being the oppressive one, they get all up in my face. They are like a cult, or any extremist religion where the freedom of speech is taken to a new level, compounded by the naive idea that one's actions don't affect anyone else... " Don't try and change her! What kind of boyfriend are you?" "She's having a good time - leave her alone!"

In that order:

I'm not changing her, you are, by giving her the smokes, and she wriggles a little closer on to the hook.

I'm a caring boyfriend, one that could spend the rest of my life with this girl but for the whole taste thing, and the health thing.

She may be having a good time, but I'm not. Sorry if you think that's selfish, but frankly it puts me in a bad mood when I have to deal with her old ashtray breath when we're trying to be intimate. When it comes to that kind of situation, I wish I could magic away those fuckwits that don't have to smell it (or can't smell it) so I could remove THAT drama as well.

To any of those in the Cancer Clan: I am totally nuts about this girl as she is about me, but if you continue to usurp my simple requests in our relationship, I can guarantee that it will not last. How's that for a guilty conscience?

Once more with feeling: Fuck Smokers. (In the ass.)

New verse: And their Godforsaken friends.

By The Way: Yes, I HAVE been drinking. It's entirely possible that I will go over this in the cold light of day and rewrite some of this post for clarity's sake. Rest assured, I will not retract anything.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

House hunting

Why is this so damn difficult? I just need a place to sleep for one year, in exchange for money. The love of my life and I need something for the summer, and there's nothing I can sign on a one year lease that i will be able to afford come September. Plus, it looks like she'll be doing the moving herself, because I'm going home for a couple of weeks which happen to include the beginning of May when most leases begin... Why can''t someone just offer a sofa bed for $500 each per month? I don't deal drugs, I no longer party (working at a busy club scratches that itch for me), and I'm devilishly fun to be around to boot.

Not to kick, but "as well".

Best of luck to all you out there also looking for a place.

By The Way: My two new favourite Internet people can be found at (notice anyone familiar?)

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Following the web of social networking

First I was on Myspace. Then Bebo, to appease my English friends. Finally the Facebook Juggernaut, which has served me faithfully for the last couple of years. Here I am toddling along and decide to try Twitter. So the process continues. From Twitter I moved onto blogspot, and now I have to get readers and followers all over again. Why are we not satisfied? This doesn't even include my Music site, and now Myspace is primarily a music site now. We've gone full circle!
I remember when you called someone and met at a coffee shop or a bar to hang out and shoot the shit. Now we shoot the e-shit, and don't get drunk or buzzed on caffeine anymore. Know what I'm saying? I could (in theory, anyway) wake up and have a full day without actually speaking to a single person. Blame facebook Chat for that little gem. I can check the news, let my friends know what's up, play Guitar Hero against some kid in Kyoto (and lose incidentally), and generally go about my business without shaking a single hand or hugging a single body. Fortunately I'm addicted to human contact.

And hey, that's just me. I don't even play World of Warcraft.

By The Way: Look at jimlapbap on Youtube and watch his Barbershop series. He's a genius. Then go to and be truly mindblown. Watch all the vids, and see if you know anyone on the clips!

Nightclub Nightmares: How To Be A Great Drunk

Ok. After much props from friends and readers I have been told/forced to post this note I wrote on Facebook.
I was going to wait a few weeks to ease you, the reader, into my style of writing. But apparently, according to more than one friend, I should share this on the basis that it is "fucking funny".
Blame friends. (Thanks Dave & Brett.)

Nightclub Nightmares:

I think it's time to address something that is on a lot of people's minds. Not just as staff members; we've all seen that one guy at the bar making a fool of himself for whatever reason. Here is a list of things to take note of to ensure prompt, friendly service (and maybe even a free shot!)

1. First of all (and I can't stress this enough): Wait your God-damn turn. Whistling, shouting "Hey!" repeatedly, banging on the bar, throwing ice. I've seen all of these, and I'll tell you this for free: They will be waiting until the very last customer has left their money with the bartender. It's rude, and counter-productive.

2. If you order a Grey Goose and red bull, or any other top shelf spirit with, say, Coke, then it's not your imagination. The staff are laughing at you.

3. Please don't come to the bar with a handful of "shrapnel" (that is, dimes, nickels and pennies.) Most bars won't accept anything less than quarters anyway, within reason. And it'll save you a lot of embarrassment when, again, he laughs at you.

3a. $39.75. Thanks for your quarter change, douchebag.

4. Guys: I know it's unfair, but the bottom line is that girls have boobs, and will sometimes release them on the crowds or make out with each other. That's why they get served first. All I can say is try and enjoy the show.

5. Unless you know the head bouncer/bartender/manager by name AND can point them out in a crowd, don't name drop; chances are, if you ask if "Bob" is working tonight, you're asking Bob.

6. Most bars have specials. They are displayed prominently so that you as the patron can make an informed decision. Don't ask the bartender what they are. You may as well have an "IDIOT" sign around your neck.

7. Yes, I know the economy is bad. That's why we're all working harder, and that's why we still party, to escape the everyday struggle. When you smuggle in your own liquor to save money, however, youre slapping me in the face. I work hard for my tip-out, which is based on sales. Plus (and this is the kicker) someone WILL catch you, in which case you've just bought me half a mickey of Morgan's Spiced Rum. (That's another point: if any staff tell you your booze is thrown away, they're lying.) And folks, if your flask has that much sentimental value to you, don't smuggle it in where the staff will confiscate it. That's just an early Christmas present.

8. Servers are pretty; hell, that's why theyre hired. It makes it less painful when you part ith your cash. However, just because the girls walking around with trays have their boobs out does not give you the right to grope them. It's not a lapdance fellas, and these girls are like sisters to us. (Imagine us feeling up YOUR sister.) I don't care how big you are or how much money you've spent tonight. In some establishments it's likely you'll be escorted out the back doors... you know, where there's no cameras...

9. If the bartender says no to a freebie, or a deal, there's probably a good reason. S/he's out of promotional tab, or you've just been a dick all night. Hey, maybe they gave you a deal before and you didn't notice.

10. Don't ask me to get the bartender's attention. It pisses him off. He has a system, and if you're not in it, either get in it or go to someone else.

11. Sure, we're all the same: the drunker, the hornier. Not in that dark corner though, please. And no, not at the bar either, that's where the money comes in, see? Stay and drink, or leave and fuck.

Monday, March 23, 2009


I suppose the welcome is for me, as I am about 5 years short of the Blogwave. The ship has sailed, but maybe its a port to port return, and I'll get on the next trip.

A couple of years ago I was working during summer. Most of my friends were seasonal and had all gone home, so I took solace in the rising number of legal pads I had kicking around my room. I soon discovered that these pads (half the size of a standard sheet of paper) enforced the need for brevity in my writings; being the kind of guy that writes EVERYTHING down to make sense of it, this was refreshing. I always liked the name, even though I didn't eventually continue the exercise of keeping my thoughts restricted to one side of the legal pad. It's tough to be happy and write anything interesting. I once said I'd rather watch SPEED over CCTV of a regular bus ride. Even keel is boring as hell.

OK, I'm gonna go drink beer and play guitar. Hope this is a decent enough introduction. The party isn't over yet, is it?

By The Way: For the foreseeable future, my "W" is temperamental, to say the least. Doesn't work when I want it to, then does work when I don't want it. (Funny how many I used in that last sentence.) So, if you ever see "ork", or "elcome" (as this post was nearly named!) or even "wewre", employ the Busted Keyboard Theory and re-read.