Monthly Archives: July 2006


Okay, first link, THIS is why I am seriously fuckin’ glad I’m not working in a call centre these days. Although to be honest, this lady is SO over the top with her vitrol that it was probably an entertaining highlight of this telemarketer’s day. And yeah, most calls are recorded, so if you’re yelling at some anonymous caller, it just might find it’s way onto the internet somehow. is NOT a land of penises, in case you were going to plan a trip there, nor is it a porn site. It’s a badly thought out url for Pen Island, a store focusing on pens. For more bad urls from legit companies, check this out.

ART CAN KILL YOU! By now you must have heard of the inflatable sculpture Dreamscapes, about the size of a football pitch with interiors to walk through, it bust through it’s moorings and floated forty meters, killing two people and wounding others.

This week a group of brave adventurers are trooping out to see the St. Louis Ghost Train! I’ve never seen it before, but you can be sure I will write about my experience. Some say it is just car headlights, but I know people who have been chased by the light far beyond the bounds of the railbed.

If Hitler reincarnated, could he be a kitty cat? Check out these Cats That Look Like Hitler.

And finally, if you grew up watching NFB animated shorts, you’re in for a treat! The NFB has uploaded FIFTY(!) shorts onto it’s website. Click on Large Format if you have broadband. I recommend “The Owl That Married A Goose” and the all time classic “The Big Snit.” So come shake yer eyes at this!

Titty Twisters?

Hmm, I start this blog with no clue as to what to write. But they say you should write nevertheless.

I got my eyes checked today, they found a cataract, which I knew about anyway since the last time I got my eyes checked they noticed it. But it’s not in a spot that hinders my vision. Anyway, what was really funny about it was that he asked me if I had ever been punched in the eye, because that’s what could have caused it. I said no, but in the car on the way home I remembered the time some girls jumped me and my friend Danielle. I think I got punched seven times in the eye. And then ˆ probably had PTSD, thinking back on it now. It took a really long time to get my confidence up for walking in downtown Saskatoon.

Then the other day some redneck yelled something at me from a car. I don’t think it was homophobic, but it could have been. He didn’t say fucking dyke. It was really interesting to watch my own response though, first I was startled and ready to run, then in a matter of seconds I had my back up and was itching to pound the shit out of him. I was strategically thinking how to incapacitate him, and then I started considering all my options for causing the most amount of pain while he was on the ground. I always thought it was elegant street justice for a homophobe to be severely debilitated for the rest of his life for having the audacity to go after an innocent homo walking the dog. I mean, I was furious!!! I wanted to crack this guy’s spine!

I didn’t fight back the first time I got bashed, but I think any other times I would definitely go after them tooth and nail, pulling a Kill Bill and ripping out eyeballs kind of thing.

I secretly admire people who can do things like bite off a rapists penis or like my cousin, grab the gun of a rapist and point it straight back at them until they poo their pants.

That all being said, 99.998 percent of the time violence is so not the answer. And most of the time, luckily, you never have to make a spikey fist with all your keys and ram it into some guy’s face.

I took self defense after my beating, but it was woefully absent on the issue of female attackers. They say you should just kick them in the balls, but unless your attacking woman is a pre-op tranny, that’s really unhelpful. What do you do when a woman’s getting rank on you? Titty twisters?

Ch ch ch changes!

Over the past few weeks I’ve been in a bit of a quandry as to what to do with my life. When Christopher died it really hit home the fact that we all have such a limited time here on earth, and our lives could end at any moment.

So . . . I had some debauched times, involving drinking, loads of pot, gambling, and my first trip to the horse track (I didn’t win anything). After that was done, I still didn’t feel any better about where my life was headed, especially after some splitting hangovers and watching money fly out of my wallet to the great capitalist unknown.

And some other things were bothering me too, besides not having a job and living with Mum again. Mum’s not bad, but it’s not exactly appealling to let cutie pies know you’re still in your parent’s house. Since being treated for bipolar disorder I’ve gained an excess of fifty pounds, most of it on my belly and rump. The first year the weight gain was so bad that I got massive stretch marks, which made me feel even worse. Lately I’ve discovered I can’t bend over to attend to things on the ground or I start having trouble breathing. I’m getting really fucking sick of being fat.

I went to the doctor today and said I wanted off Zyprexa. Zyprexa, my antipsychotic friend for the past three and a half years. Besides being one of THE major drugs that causes immense weight gain, it is also linked to causing diabetes, which I’m already predisposed to. So I got a prescription for Lamictal, and over the next few weeks will be doing the taper off/taper on dance. Lamictal has it’s own drawbacks, including a sometimes fatal skin rash. I never knew skin rashes could be fatal, but there ya go.

Not only that, but I’m going to try to stick to a sensible diet and exercise regime. Tonight I have to mow the lawn, but I’m also going to start going for half hour walks everyday.

My next health task is going to be quitting smoking. I really want to do it this time, especially since I haven’t had a sweetheart the entire time I’ve been a smoker. It’s blocking my womanly odors! But first thing is first.

I’m also in the process of getting together a demo reel to apply for jobs as an editor. I am a kick ass editor, in case you didn’t know. There was a rumour for a while that all of my early work was in camera, but only Bisexual Wannabe was in camera, the rest was edited together on various machines, some of them very archaic. Also my cousin and I have an idea for a television show that we’re going to try and get some development money for. I never thought I’d work in television, but I need a job, and it’s a fun project.

Aside from that, life is strange. I thought I would be moving back to Vancouver, but after visiting there for a week I decided not to. I don’t know where I would fit in, right now I’m seriously considering either Toronto or Winnipeg, although something tells me I should stay in Saskatoon for a while yet.

In other news, the general consensus among people I know here is that something BIG is about to happen, and not something nice either. I’m talking either a major terrorist attack or a natural disaster, and probably within a few months. I know, that’s the most vague prediction I’ve ever heard too, but something isn’t right in the world, there’s a weird energy and I can’t for the life of me put my finger on it. I googled End of the World predictions and nothing came up that looked remotely like what would happen. I don’t think it will be the end or anything though, just some very rough, very difficult times. And probably a lot of death.

But maybe we’re all wrong. Ya never know.

Either way, I want to get this spare tire of mine to roll away before the Big thing hits.


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My cuz Deanna and I were up to no good over at her friend’s place out in the country. We had just said goodbye to her sister when out of nowhere an unearthly noise pierced the darkness of midnight. I was so shocked to hear it that I started smoking my cigarette even harder to try and finish it and get back inside. It came again, an eerie cry that sounded not unlike a woman screaming in extreme pain, like she was being brutally murdered. It came again, and this time it was getting closer.

“What the hell was that?”

I have to admit, my first thought was that it was an animal, but as it got closer and closer and inspired more and more fear, I began to have all kinds of wild thoughts. It sounded so much like it was a woman, what if at any second a bloody woman with a knife in her eye staggered up the walk and shrieked, with her demented murderer coming close behind, ready to destroy all the regrettably stoned witnesses? Not only that, but it was coming so close to the house, and I finally gave up my cigarette and ran inside, where we told everyone what was happening and two men went out to investigate.

They had seen a cougar, or rather, heard it, the other night out near the barn. They imitated the shriek, and the shrieking came back, but when they yelled Hey! nobody came or answered. Meanwhile we were huddled in the instrument room with quivering knees. Convinced it was really “just” a cougar, things calmed down again. Until somebody started hearing things coming from the basement . . . where there wasn’t anybody.

It’s true, cougars have returned to Saskatchewan, even around that bustling metropolis, Saskatoon. And jesus, they really do sound like murdered women.