Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Too bad my cape is at the dry-cleaners...

OK, so I was walking to the bus stop after work the other night, and I see this group of people just kind of horse-assing around. I'm like whatever, it's midnight, it's to be expected. Then I see one of the girls is carrying a pack of toilet paper. So I figure, she probably got sucked into drinking after a trip to the grocery store.

I then hear this: "But, that's not yours, it's my friend's. Give it back!" I look and one of the girls is my friend Megan. The rest of the group are walking away, t.p. under the arm of now stranger girl. I ask Meg, do you know them? She says no.

What follows is the transcript of the conversation. I was one beer deep, so this is a fairly accurate depiction of what happened. There are about 12 people in the group but I only communicated with two of them, a guy and a girl. ***WARNING: Contains coarse language.

Me: Hey! Wanna stop a second?
(hero runs up to TPgirl)
What are you doing? Is that yours?
TPG: No.
Me: Well, listen, I don't know where you're from, and maybe you can't drink as much as the big dogs up here, but you can't just take shit from people. You're being a bitch, just gimme the bag.
TPG: We spent over $700 in the Dubh Linn (*note: irish bar)
Me: Whose fault is that?
(TPG smiles and tosses the bag to the hero, who thanks her)
Drunk Guy: Hey, did you call us a bunch of fucking bitches?
Me (as I walk away triumphant): No, I called you a bunch of fucking thieves. Have a great night.
DG: You're a fucking cunt, you know that?!
Me (walking away): Have a great night.


Arm around girl, high five her boyfriend when we get back to the bar, and hugs from the girl whose TP it actually was.

And this is my life.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Shameless Self Promotion! With pretty girls!

So the other day, I got it in my head that I haven't written in a while. Like with a pen and paper (that's what we did before the Internet, kids!) So I grabbed an as-yet unused notebook and started making a bit of a to-do list for Whistler. Ostensibly this was just to get back to the roots of my writing and to post whatever spilled out here.

BUT: it just kept coming. I'm now 10 chapters deep into the rabbit hole, and I can't see daylight in front of me. So let's make this a thing.

I'm writing a book.

It's scary. The prospect of failure always is. (Ha, I mis-spelled "failure" there and almost posted it. Irony.) But rest assured, this is something that could really take off. I've told a fair few people about it, and once it's done I'll be looking for a publisher. Luckily the artistic community in Whistler is both tight knit and supportive so we'll see how this plays out.

In Other News, you guys should totally check out my friend Nina's fashion blog. She's trying to get a sweet gig and all she needs is for you to "like" her page in this link. She's frightfully pretty, she's from the bustling mecca of Port Dover, Ontario, and rumour has it when she has alone time with her boyfriend, she calls out my name! (Her boyfriend may or may not be named Aaron as well... Of course he's an awesome guy!) Then, once you've all been wonderful people and helped her score this dream job, you can see what all the fuss is about here. Thanks folks.

By The Way: You seem like trendy people. Albums I'm feeling at the minute: Mingus Ah Um (Charles Mingus), Let Them Talk (Hugh Laurie), and Rise Ye Sunken Ships (We Are Augustines). The last one there was reviewed by a pretty talented guy here.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Summer's here, Stanley isn't.

Well, kids, I don't know what to say.

The first period was electric; it looked lie we had the powerplay for 20 minutes, so intense was our pressure in their end. Then... I don't know why, but if you watch the third it's like a totally different team out there.

The only saving grace is that it was over far before the final seconds. If we had been tied up until the last minute or so, I think a lot of viewers would have suffered stress induced heart attacks. I used mine up during the Gold Medal game last year.

I also am left speechless at the appalling way a handful of gloryhunters decided to take the loss into their own hands and set cars on fire, prompting the police to fire tear gas, which in turn made the few rioters around get more incensed. The "us vs. them" was maybe not deliberate but was most certainly bulwarked by the Vancouver police, and by proxy the media. You'll notice that they showed the same few clips they had on a loop, long after the sun had gone down it was still broad daylight in Downtown Vancouver. What's more, every Canucks fan is being tarred with the same brush - "monkeys", "idiots", "savages", the top 3 hashtags on Twitter are all concerning Vancouver, and so forth.

I did find this though:

This the "Wall of Love", outside The Bay on Georgia, and makes my heart swell... People this morning, real fans, took to the streets to clean up litter, scrub soot, and just generally apologise for the actions of a few people who just wanted to get on TV. I think it's great that Canadians are Canadian regardless of the situation. We have enough footage of some of them (the angry Greece football shirt, the man in green paint with the mohawk, the countless mid-20s guys that jumped on those two cop cars), surely they'll have lost their jobs and a fair amount of face by today.

Like I said the other day, I love this game. But in this world where people are rioting for things like human rights, politics, and wars, is a hockey game (albeit the most important one of the year) really worthy of civil unrest? Our prime minister is a monster; why aren't we in the streets protesting him? Egypt did it, after all.

Anyway, Go Leafs Go.

By The Way: Summer is officially here, now that game 7 is over. I watched the game in the sun on my boss' patio with the living room window open. Oh yeah! I have a new job. But I'll save that for later.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Women and Hockey

Ladies and gentlemen, it is no secret to you that I love women. Not sex, specifically, but women. They fascinate me. Much like the pyromaniac I am often so interested and consumed by my interest that often there are unintended consequences. Couple this with the unerrable truth of Whistler… Women don't always stay; the good ones are off saving the world before the snow melts.

To the casual observer, it would seem that this town is perfect for a single man in his mid-late 20s: a revolving door at the gates of town, a fresh batch of girls every time it starts to get colder. But for someone like myself (a guy with his heart on his sleeve, but looking for something serious) it's the same as every other city: the good ones are only visiting, the ones that stay aren't what I'm looking for. In other words, I can find a warm body for a night, maybe two, but I feel like I should stop being this kind of guy. This was all as a result of a profound revelation after yet another girl up from the city, who actually is pretty goddamned cool. (She may know who she is, if she reads this.) None of them are up for more than a weekend, and I can't justify leaving this town after putting in so much of myself to be in the position I am in. I have a great job, a beautiful (rental) house, and some of the closest friends a man could ask for. Would any man alive trade that for a stream of meaningless relationships that may not last more than 24 hours?

Makes you wonder.

In Other News, tonight could see history made as the Vancouver Canucks look to take Stan home. To those of you that don't understand why this is such a big deal… how are we even friends?

But seriously, I love the playoffs regardless of who's playing (the advantages of being a Leafs fan). The goals are so much more important - LaPierre's celebration Friday night exemplified that with his quick-step running skate to the boards after he scored the only goal of the game. Additionally, there's the little statistic that Canadians like to bandy around about the Canadian host city to the winter Olympics goes on to win the Stanley cup immediately after the Games. And in the Canucks 40 year history, no time would be better.

By the Way: A MAN IS GOING TO FIGHT A FUCKING LION. There's really nothing more I can say about that.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Movie night at the A5 Scribs!


A cloudy day in Whistler means I started looking online for documentaries. I like movies, but I love documentaries. It's fascinating, because not only is a doc interesting, but it's true. Harrowing, beautiful, fascinating.

My point being: ever called somebody crazy? I don't think you know what that really means. I can summate and overtake any crazy behaviour any ex-girlfriend or parent has ever done, and I can do it in just three simple words.

Westboro. Baptist. Church.

Google it. I'll wait. Hell, you'll probably only get to "w-e-s-t-b" before it shows up as the top hit. (UPDATE: it does.)

There is a documentary by the always entertaining and brilliant Louis Theroux, entitled "The Most Hated Family in America". And it's tragic how some of these people think. Notably the sweetest girl in Kansas City (apart from the whole "God Hates Fags" thing), who doesn't live with the family, Gael.

And hey! I just found a follow-up doc! America's Most Hated Family In Crisis details how, 4 or 5 years later, many of the members have left the church. Gael is shaping up to take the place of Shirley Phelps-Roper, the driving force of the church. Younger members are the majority of the dissenters, and those still within (specifically the parents) don't speak to their own children. There's a particularly moving scene where he meets with Libby, and it's clear she misses her parents, though not their ideals. The feeling is mutual, although the parents are much more guarded, ,in their interview, as appears to be in keeping with the religion of denying one's human characteristics.

Anyway, these, and a ton of other docs are available online, free, no subscription at I'm not being paid by them, it's just a great site.

Hoo boy. It's gonna be awesome writing "Westboro Baptist Church" in the tags for this post.

Hockey news. Seriously, guys? You squandered those away games. You fucking had it. Did you see how good a mood Luongo was in when he lost his mask, joking with the refs? It's game 5 tonight. Let's make it happen.