Endangered Species Spotted In Toronto.

My friend Peter, whom I previously thought was the only living Conservative working for the City of Toronto, sent me an interesting photo today. The backstory: Someone told Pete they saw a Bush/Cheney sign in the office window of a city councilman. Reeling from disbelief, Pete sought out the window in question and after an exhaustive search through hostile territory (Toronto City Hall) Pete located the politician in question.



I'll let Pete name the aforementioned gentleman in a comment if he so desires. Barometrically speaking - for my American readers - the discovery of this rare breed of Canadian conservative is akin to a Nepalese sherpa stepping in Yeti doodies. Fair play to you, sir. You've got balls. Not to be confused with Yeti balls, which are generally covered in a shockingly white, light peach fuzz. Don't ask me how I know that.

Friday's Quizzlet: Refrigerated Klingons

Appetizer: Name a board game you enjoy playing. What's fun about it?
I think that a true nerd is some who embraces it - and who truly revels in their nerdiness. The type of guy that will speak Klingon to another nerd while there are single women in the room. You get the picture. Anyway, my point is that Bryan and Art bought me a great DVD/board game for my birthday last year called Scene It. You answer questions about movie clips, etc. It's great fun - the only problem is not only have I smoked everyone who's ever played it with me, I do so well that the games only last 15 minutes. So I fear that may make me a nerd of some sort. But I'll fight the classification tooth and nail.

Soup: How's the weather been in your area lately?
All weather, wind patterns and barometric pressure has been on hold in Boston due to the World Series. Normal forces of nature will resume after the parade tomorrow, and I'll gladly update you then. A stupid question deserves a...

Salad: Do you consider yourself an emotional person? What types of emotions do you experience most often?
Does crushing disappointment count as an emotion? If not, then put me down for 'ennui'. Jesus, I sounded like an Allston hipster just then. Pardon me, I was due at a Kerry rally at The Model an hour ago.

Main Course: List 3 songs you've been listening to recently.
I listen to 'There Goes The Fear' by The Doves daily. It's my absolute favorite song of all time, and has appeared on just about every mix I've made since early 2002. Even the rap ones. I've also been listening to this amazing and really hard to find song called 'Here It Comes' by Longwave. I'm not a big fan of the band's other material but this song just does it for me. And finally the new U2 song, Vertigo, is superb. Loving it and looking forward to the rest of the album. Not crazy about the iPod tie-in though. Or any of their albums from 93-99.

Dessert: What's on your refrigerator door? Magnets? Photos? Calendars?
Trailer Park Boys magnets. A photo of me, Jill and Sara taken on a Boston harbor cruise 2 years ago. A Christmas photo sent to me by Becky, Phil and Cole. A photo from PJ's wedding with him, me, Henry and Harkins. An alarming brown smear which I'm sincerely hoping is Hershey's Chocolate Syrup. But it gets weird in that apartment sometimes - so you never know. Until you taste it.

Red Sox Revelry - This The Last Of It. Promise.

Yet another small batch of photos from last night that have made their way to my inbox. This should be the final set, but it's going to be a very busy couple of days down here and I'm sure this site will be rife with images of Boston barfights and buggery spanning the rest of the weekend.



Comment from Kyle: "I just like the fact that Dave was the only one not drinking, but looks more liqued than anyone else". I like it too - It seems I really don't need alcohol to have a good time. Just plenty of clown porn and amphetamines. Have a look at the photo on the top left: In case you were wondering why the Red Sox won so easily, it's because I've been rubbing my "lamp" all week. Oh... And that candle that was on the table at Tiernans, too.



And here we all are in the middle of the mess that was Faneuil Hall. I'll be glad when Halloween is over, because I'm tired of looking like Jason Priestly on steroids. I need a haircut, a shave and a reason to stop TiVoing 90210.

Red Sox vs. Office Productivity. Sox Win Again.

How hideously unproductive is your office or place of business right now? So far this morning, I've gotten 58 Red Sox related e-mails and probably as many instant messages. My boss is bleary-eyed and incoherent, our sales guy has failed to show up for a meeting and God forbid we talk about a client rather than the victory parade on Saturday.



I say we all pack it in and meet up on my roofdeck for beers and BBQ. How anyone is supposed to concentrate today is beyond me. Oh yeah, they're called professionals. Know any?

Curse This! - Boston Wins The World Series.

I won't recap tonight's game. I won't repeat what I wrote last week about Red Sox Karma and deserving to win. I don't need to delve into how much I respect Boston Baseball fans, who after being served up steaming hot disappointment for 86 years straight, still report for duty every spring as the most fanatical, faithful and fervent fans known to the sport. What I will do is share a few photos I took tonight for anyone wondering what it was like to be in the city of Boston the year the Red Sox finally reversed the curse, and won the World Series. I am surprised I made it home without being open mouth kissed by another man, hit over the head with a trash barrel or stomped silly by a police horse. Because that's what usually happens to me on Wednesday nights.



Here's Ris, Me, some old guy who kept trying to sneak into our photographs screaming about booze and hookers, and Ted. Or maybe it was Ris screaming about booze and hookers. I was caught up in the moment and don't really remember. Six Diet Cokes will do that to a guy.



There's Chrissy flying her colors in Tiernans where we all watched the game. I have a great video clip of the place erupting after the last out which I'm going to try to compress and post. Then there's a guy sitting on someone's shoulders waving a broom in Faneuil Hall. Get it? If the specifics of broom humor (I must have seen 30 people carrying them tonight) needs to be explained to you, Bob Saget might be more your speed.



What major sporting event championship would be complete without the obligatory "arsehole up the flagpole" photo? I'm sure this guy was dragged down and beaten by police like a flatulent stepchild shortly after this blurry mess was taken, but alas - my camera is absolute shite in the dark. I'll post some better photos tomorrow as they're e-mailed to me. And there are Ted and I amongst the swelling sea of 'Revere Rickys' screaming "fuck yeah dood!".

What really struck me about tonight was an overwhelming sense of unity. Fans of all creeds and colors - with no personal connection to each other other than they were all simultaneously out of doors - high fiving, screaming in people's faces, knocking each other over for a good dry-humping. And no one was killed by a stray pepper-spray packet which is always a bonus. It was all very touching. Jesus, there was a lot of touching.

The parade is Friday, and it's going to be a long weekend of revelry - Boston championship style. See you all at The Big Haunt.

80's Music: My Ultimate Top Ten Bestest Song List.

I have a friend named Katie who is convinced I am the leading living authority on 80's pop music. I made her 3 CDs of my favorites called "Katie's Eighties" and she's copied it for a dozen or so of her friends. She plays it in the office, in her apartment, her car - she's obsessed. Whenever I go over to one of her parties, I'm immediately recognized ("YOU'RE the guy who made that CD?!"), cornered and then praised incessantly. To be honest, it's kinda nice to be able to make something so many people have enjoyed so much. And the music angle is also sorta on the cool side. I mean, if I showed up at that same party with a Rubiks Cube or a tank of Sea Monkeys, I wouldn't be able to pay for a dry-handjob from a prostitute in a wheelchair.



I think the key here is to really "dig in the crates" as they say, and find great songs that a lot of people have completely forgotten about. Anyone can make an "80's Mix" With Soft Cell, Rick Springfield and Kenny Loggins on it. Big whoop. To make a good 80's CD, you have to do better than that. You also have to set boundaries as to what exactly constitutes 80's music. For example, my favorite band, the Pixes, recorded the vast majority of their material in the 80's - but I'd never put one of their songs in an 80's collection (well, maybe Here Comes Your Man). This is because I like to associate 80's music with synthesizers, ridiculous haircuts, legwarmers and the like. Although there are many important guitar-driven bands from the 80's, for the most part I leave them off of my pirating endeavors. And I'm not even going to start worrying about what I'm supposed to do with rap.

You also have to make sure you're not picking songs for the sake of being original or clever - they have to be crowd-pleasers. I'd love to throw a brilliant-yet-obscure Gary Numan song like Are Friends Electric? on there, but no one would 'get it'. Your CD has to be one you can throw on at a party and that people will dig the whole way through. Lest you start 'gagging them with a spoon'. You can't be self-indulgent.



So I started to think - Maybe I can be considered an 80's music authority. I've certainly done the legwork. I was as much of a music fan when I was 10 as I am now, so I was alive and conscious during the 80's onslaught. I was such a Culture Club fan at the age of nine that my father pretty much gave up on trying to teach me how to throw a baseball. Or having grandchildren. Then I asked myself what songs I'd put on my top ten list and decided to turn this whole unabashedly uninteresting project into an article here on Pye In The Face. You lucky devils. So with no further ado, here's my ultimate top ten bestest eighties song list. In very particular order.

10. Uncertain Smile - The The
Matt Johnson never managed to break into the bigtime, and it's too bad because The The have some truly amazing material. This song is not my favorite, but it's the most easily digestible. I'd rather put "The Sinking Feeling" or "Giant" on here, but again - you have to cater somewhat to the lowest common denominator for this project.

9. Whisper To A Scream - Icicle Works
This song reminds me of growing up on Island View Drive in Manotick, Ontario. Everytime I hear it, I feel like I'm back on my BMX, racing around the subdivision with a bag of stale bread to go feed to the ducks at the river. A great little catchy guitar intro, interesting call-and-response phrasing and a thunderous chorus.

8. Head Over Heels - Tears For Fears
This was the first concert I ever saw, back in 1986 at the Ottawa Civic Center with Mr. Mister opening up. What an evening. I went with my Dad's friend's younger brother and saw my first lesbians and smelled my first marijuana. "Why are those two women kissing and what's that wonderful smell?" An eye-opening experience to say the least. I love the piano in this song - it sounds as though someone is hitting the keys with a hammer. Also the way Curt Smith and Roland Orzabal take turns singing sections of the verses is very cool. And I'll never forget the video: Roland following a pretty librarian around trying to win her affections. In 2004, we'd call that sexual harassment.

7. When The River Runs Dry - Hunters and Collectors
This song could have the catchiest chorus of the decade. I once saw this Australian band open for Midnight Oil at Great Woods and they were amazing. The lyrics are horribly convoluted and just really bad. But then so are most of the others on this list. It's also unique in that they build up to the chorus over two verses, and then separate them with just one verse for the rest of the song. And I love the way Mark Seymour screams the one word "Salvation" at the end of the chorus. The song is mostly guitar based, but the bass sound is altered in such a way that I'm gonna let that slide.

6. Voices Carry - Til Tuesday
Many people don't know that Boston's own Aimee Mann was the lead singer of this shortlived outfit. This song was a no-brainer for this list - I've loved the dirty sounding guitar picking coupled with her amazing voice since I first heard the song as a mere pup in 1985. Mann and her baffling hairdo always reminded me of Pris from Blade Runner. And that it was getting increasingly more interesting to touch myself in the pants.

5. New Moon On Monday - Duran Duran
I had to put the double D's on this list somewhere, as I was thoroughly obsessed with them for years - but I was originally a strict Tears for Fears man. I had a friend named Andrew Habbington during most of the eighties and we used to fight, literally, over who was the better band. But I eventually crossed over to the dark side and became a Duranie myself. I haven't seen Andrew in 20 years, but maybe someday he'll Google himself and find this, and then laugh with some sense of smug satisfaction. The harmonies in this song are intense, and you'll need a degree from Juliard to be able to sing along in your car. Forget Hungry Like the Wolf for a minute and get yourself Duracclimated.

4. We Run - Strange Advance
Bryan Adams wasn't the only Canuck rocking out hardcore in the eighties. Darryl Kromm sounds almost as if he's fighting back vomit during the entire song, but I like the 2nd synthesizer that comes in mid way, and the eerie high-pitched "hayaaa hayaaa" vocals that get layered in at the end. I don't know much about this band, and I don't think anyone does, but I love this song. And Bryan Adams.

3. In A Big Country - Big Country
Where do I begin? My friends are all well familiar with my enduring love of this band, and I was absolutely shattered when Stuart Adamson hung himself a few years ago. Their live DVD entitled appropriately enough, Final Fling, is amazing and I watch it all the time. This song has an enormous energy behind it which is only made better by the fact that Stu and Bruce figured out a way to make their guitars sound like fucking bagpipes. And I love the video where they're zipping around Scotland on ATVs - perhaps in search of a deep fried Mars bar.

2. Do You Really Want To Hurt Me - Culture Club
Quite possibly the most amazing bassline ever laid down. Incidentally the bass player, Jon Moss, was subsequently laid down in the "wrong-hole" by Boy George - which led to the untimely demise of the band. Listen to this song with the subwoofah turned way up and recollect that ridiculous dance George was doing through the male senior citizen bath house in the video. Or was that his living room? And he's still influencing disassociated nose-piercers to this day - by no means look at this page if you plan on sleeping tonight.

1. The Promise - When In Rome
This is a truly incredible song. It's recently been resurrected by the film Napoleon Dynamite, and was an excellent choice for the soundtrack. The choppy synth bass, 14 octave vocals and clever chorus drove this to my number one with a bullet. You don't know a lick about the 80's if you haven't heard this tune. And that's not necessarily a bad thing.

It was extremely hard to pick just ten - I could have easily done twenty. Honorable mentions go to Sunglasses at Night by Corey Hart, Kyrie by Mr. Mister, Pop Goes The World by Men Without Hats, Major Tom by Peter Schilling - but I just have to draw the line somewhere. And get some sleep. Yep - all in all, with the possible exception of Monchichis, it was a pretty cool decade.

Friday's Quizzlet: Hello Kitty, Goodbye Norma Jean.

Appetizer: Name 3 things that you are wearing today.
Red and white moose boxer shorts, a watch that doesn't belong to me and a Pixies hooded sweatshirt. I can also be found all weekend hanging out near the t-stop in Harvard Square.

Soup: Who was the last person you hugged?
Puh-lease. If you must know, it was Linda. But that's a super-fruity question and I demand a Hello Kitty tote bag in exchange for putting my masculinity on the line like that.

Salad: What do you like to order from your favorite fast food place?
Anything from Adam's, which is a diner/mart on the corner where Haymarket (the market, not the orange line stop) sets up. Adam likes to tell you how great his food is as he's preparing it for you. Actually now that I think about it, his exact words were "Allah Akbar, God is great - do you want tzatziki on that?"

Main Course: What time of day do you usually feel most energized?
Late at night, usually between 8-3. It stems from all the years I spent working in bars. Which would also explain the penchant for drink, the bad Marilyn Monroe tattoo, the beer bottle scars, the large collection of Pernod t-shirts and several strange rashes I can't seem to shake.

Dessert: Using the letters in your first name, write a sentence.
Damsels Are Vulnerable In Distress

Money Can't Buy Class: Red Sox Beat The Yankees.

I am more of a hockey fan, but every fall I'll get just a little fairweather and start watching Sox games if situations get interesting - and let's just say it's been a long week of TV. If you want to read a great Red Sox Blog, there are none finer than my friend Kent's who has kept the faith remotely for years, all the way from Atlanta. So I'll leave the excrutiating post-game analysis to people like him and just make a few high-level comments on why I think the Sox were able to mete out such a brutal pennant-winning, arse-whipping to the Yankees last night.

In a word: Karma. God, the powers that be, Miss Cleo, the Universe... whatever you want to call it... finally had had enough of Jeter's snide expressions, A-Rod's 22 million dollar blueberry yoghurt lips, pompous fans who forget that their now-toppled dynasty was bought rather than built and... um... that smug little Jeter bastard again. The looks on the faces of the NY crowd after the last out were just savory. It's been so, so easy to be a Yankees fan for the last few years. And we were all so, so sick of you.



I remember in particular a shot of Billy Crystal in one of the luxury boxes, his face still pressed to the glass in disbelief a good 5 minutes after the game had ended. You can't win all the time, Bill - I know it hurts. But I guess you already learned that lesson way back when The Legend of Curly's Gold was released. Crystal is a great symbol for Yankees fans in general: Sitting high on their perch, looking down their noses at other teams instead of cheering their own, never dreaming they'd soon be unsurped by one of the greatest underdogs in sports history.

Popular Red Sox credos like "Keep The Faith" and "Cowboy Up" turn the attention and the onus inward. They're meant to inspire and motivate the team and faithful fans alike. The best the Yankees can muster is "Who's Your Daddy?" which just encourages people to dismiss and insult the opposition rather than root, root, root for the home team. And Jeter's response to curious reporters last night? "It's not always the best team that wins." It's not always the best team that comes back from a 3-0 series deficit to then whup the opposition by nearly double digits, either. Oh wait - you know what, Derek? It probably is. Sorry, I got caught up in the undertow of your ginormous ego there for a moment.

Too bad, so sad. What comes around already went around, and you lads get to spend the rest of the fall polishing your Bentleys. While the Red Sox Nation spends it showing New York that millions of dollars are never a match for perseverance, unity, character and class. Of course, I DID pass a guy on the way to work this morning wearing a "Jeter Swallows" T-Shirt. But for the sake of this article, let's just keep that between us fairweather Sox fans.

OK. Maybe Just Stay Out Of The Water.

There's definitely a theme developing on Pye in the Face this week, and I apologize if you're not fully into the aquatic motif. But as soon as terrifying and weird-ass forms of new sea life stop washing up on beaches around the world I'll get back to the breast jokes.

This story comes to us from New Zealand, where some sort of behemoth from the hockey puck genus washed up near Farewell Spit on Sunday. It measured 3 meters across and the estimated weight was somewhere around a ton. A Department of Conservation worker noticed it on the beach while out for a bike ride, said it was a good specimen and "did not smell" - which unfortunately precludes me from any serious attempt at a Michael Moore joke.



The creepiest thing about this beast (which New Zealanders apparently call a Sun Fish), is the expression on it's face and - Jesus - it's mouth. Look at the lips on the damn thing. If I stumbled upon it while jogging down the beach late at night, I might mistake it for Angelina Jolie. Or an inflatable E.T. sex doll. In either case, the jog would then come to an abrupt halt in favor of push-ups.

I'd like to suggest that scientists around the world start wandering the beaches with Geiger counters or begin looking for whichever North Korean nuclear facility is firing pucks of uranium into the Pacific. Preferably before my petty daily financial and work-related stresses are replaced permanently with Godzilla.

For The Love Of Quinn: SAVE TOUGH CROWD!

A lot of people saw and commented - via blog or IM/e-mail - on my post last week regarding the cancellation of Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn. If you haven't read it, please do so and save us all some time this post around. The nutshell: brilliant, topical, bi-partisan, current event debate show featuring the finest stand-up comics working today which is being cancelled on November 4th.

I was lucky enough to get a ticket to the final taping and will be traveling down from Boston with Brukkake on a little daytrip, but that's a small comfort. An associate of frequent Tough Crowd guest Jim Norton and the related website CringeHumor.net, was one of the people who found my article on Google and contacted me. Yesterday he IM'd me again to let me know about a new site which I wanted to pass along to anyone who cares. And judging from my server logs, a surprising number of you do.



The main goal of SaveToughCrowd.com is to get fans to email decision makers at Comedy Central and let them know just how many people truly love and support the show. The email addresses provided include Doug Herzog: President & CEO, Marc Leonard: Vice President of Program & Promotions Scheduling, Debbie Beiter: Vice President of Production & On-Air Promotions and Peter Risafi: Senior Vice President of On Air Promotion & Off Air Creative. Please visit the site and send a message of your own. I have.

Tough Crowd is being cancelled because it loses too much of the audience which watches the show preceding it: the formerly-hilarious-and-currently-partisan-but-always-reprehensible Daily Show with it's host Jon Stewart (who isn't fit to sniff Tucker Carlson's bicycle seat). The official show-biz term is 'hemorrhaging'. But in this case I'll settle for 'catering to lefty college students'. The underlying argument is that the show never got a fair shot, with 98% of all Comedy Central's marketing thrown behind Crank Yankers, Wanda Does It, Chapelle Show and Blue Collar Comedy Hour. And, as a frequent watcher of the channel, I firmly agree. So please do your part.

But if you're a big fan of Larry the Cable Guy - you've got absolutely nothing to worry about.

Attack Of The Humbolt Flying Giant Squids.

More squidiness for those of you who still can't believe that I spent last Saturday night writing about defunct Disney World rides. Over 1,500 Humboldt jumbo flying squid washed up on Long Beach Peninsula, and have been doing so in British Columbia and Washington as well. I guess that's squid pro quo being under attack from soggy suicide bombers. OK that was a new low.

They've become so commonplace off the West coast in the past week that, in typical human fashion, people have started contemplating eating them. "I sure wouldn't eat them. It would be like eating a deer on the side of the road," said Greg Bargmann, a marine fish manager with the Washington Fish and Wildlife Department. "But if you catch them live they'd be good." Hoo wee! Them squid's good eatin'! Forget about roadkill possum sandwiches, let's take a couple of shotguns down to the beach and catch us an eight-legger then go back and watch the Nascar. Whoops, wrong coast.

But what if these things were washing up on the East Coast - say, in a seafood crazy city like our own Boston? The Barking Crab would immediately become "The Flying Squid". Harpoon would begin brewing Squidtoberfest, Fenway would begin serving Flying Franks, Humbolt chowder would become all the rage at Legal Seafood and a new nightclub would open up in the Alley called "Tentacles" which would attract patrons from as far away as Pawtucket.

Here's a gallery from the website of a guy who apparently spends more time obsessing about giant squids than even I am capable of. Note in particular the photo of the two humbolts laid out beside a cooler to add scale to the image. Make that a large calamari to go. I mean, to run screaming.

Giant Squids & Disney's 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea Ride.

My sister went to Disneyland last weekend and confirmed what I'd heard for years and never wanted to believe. And no, it's not that Mr. Toad's Wild Ride is much scarier when you're six. I'll get back to this point.

Listen - don't you just love it when they catch the giant squids? Last week off the coast of British Colombia, a salmon fisherman named Goody Gudmundseth netted a 20kg, 1.5 metre long Humbolt Squid. Also known as the Jumbo Flying Squid. Flying squids? Oh, Goody! Eventually Gudmundseth turned it over to the Royal B.C. museum for study, but said that he'd almost decided to "use the squid for bait or to eat it as calamari". I don't know what he was thinking about when he gave it to science. I mean just look at that delicious grey thing. Can you also jar up the squid juice out of the tub so I can pour it over my mashed potatoes tomorrow?:



But in 2002 a giant squid was caught off the coast of Tasmania that makes Goodie's look like a malnourished Sea Monkey. Actually, it just washed up dead on the beach. Which is a good thing - they would have needed Captain Nemo, seaQuest DSV, Das Boot and Red October to catch this monster. The friggin' thing was 60 feet long and weighed over 550 pounds! Add that to the fact that it reeked like a hundred dead carps in the sun, and you can understand why I was so excited.

As you can see by now, I'm a bit of a giant squid afficianado (form a line to the left, ladies) and so I found myself recently reminded of my favorite Disney movie, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. The nutshell: Captain Nemo rescues Peter Lorrie and Kirk Douglas after he sinks their ship. He shows them his ultra-modern submarine - The Nautilus - holds them captive and then gets killed by a big giant squid at the end. That was really only half a nutshell. But I love the film and even had the LP when I was a kid which I listened to on a Mickey Mouse record player to no end like a good little Disney zombie. So I guess that's where the whole squid fascination thing comes from. There are worse things to be fascinated by. Like shiny keychains or Kreskin, for example.

So I was understandably psyched when my parents took me to Disneyland for the first time in the late 70's - because I knew full well there was a big, glorious 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea Ride waiting there for me. The nutshell: You'd force your parents to wait in line in the hot Florida sun for 2 hours because there were only 2 subs going around on a track which each probably held about 10 people. You'd get in and listen to Captain Nemo take you on a tour of the lagoon, during which you'd see sunken ships, mermaids, Atlantis and yep - you guessed it - a giant squid. It was, in all fairness, a pretty cool ride for 1971. And I always found it incredibly eerie (I made three trips to Disneyland and rode it at least 5 times, the last hurrah being in 1991.)



You can still take a tour of the old ride on a site made by a similarly disgruntled fan here. And this is a page full of horrifying photos a Disney employee made during the old lagoon's final destruction just this past July. And I have to give full credit to this guy, who has assembled an amazing collection of videos he was sent in by folks who'd taped the ride pre it's 1994 demise and some great footage from a former Disney employee who worked on ride maintenance (no small feat) for a decade.

So the first thing I asked Janet when she got back from Disneyland Monday was "Is it true that they closed the 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea Ride?!" To which she looked at me like she'd just caught me dressing up like Captain Kirk and acting out scenes with imaginary Romulans or whatever they're called. Which she hasn't yet, by the way. And then replied simply, "Yes."

Incidentally, that bastard Eisner has closed Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, too.

Friday's Quizzlet: The Cat And The Cobra.

Appetizer: What is your favorite beverage?
A lot of Indian restaurants don't have liquor licenses. I'm unsure if that's because they don't want to pay the fees or if it's due to the rash of "Waiter, there's a cobra in my soup" incidents prevalent in the late 70's - but it's a fact. I remember a place my parents used to take my sister and I in Ottawa when we were kids. You may think a lack of a liquor license would be an inconvenience to most - but as long as the restaurant didn't sell any booze, people were allowed to bring and drink their own. So my Dad and his friends would go across the street get an armload of wine each and get juiced while gorging on tandoori and making inappropriate turban jokes (I remember "pull-start" being a popular one - I'll explain it to you sometime in person). OK - long story short, so we didn't feel left out, my sister and I would always order sweet lassis. This is not an affectionate border collie. It's a non-alcoholic Indian drink made from yoghurt, and they are dee-lish. Friggin' cobras.

Soup: Name 3 things that are on your computer desk at home or work.
Home: An orange cat. If you ever get a naughty instant message from me, blame his fondness for keyboard tap dance/my fondness for liquor. Work: Photo of me/Venditti/Herb and a Tim Hortons can full of pens.

Salad: On a scale of 1-10, how honest do you think you are?
I'm a solid 9. It also would depend on whether we're talking work or personal life here. But basically I'd tell the Eskimos I sold ice to to stop whining because they should be looking forward to their new life living on Florida swampland, instead.

Main Course: You get to change the name of a city. How bout it?
Boston would be re-christened "I Thank-God-Every-Day-That-I-Don't-Live-In-New-York-Ville

Dessert: What stresses you out? What calms you down?
Less Money. Mo' Money.

"My Philosophy" on KRS-One's 9-11 Comments

"Voting in a corrupt society adds more corruption. America has to commit suicide if the world is to be a better place." - Kris Parker.

At a New Yorker Festival panel discussion this week, KRS-One (aka Kris Parker) of pioneering rap collective Boogie Down Productions had a few choice words on the subject of 9-11. I just stumbled across this article, in the middle of a busy workday, and had to take a moment to mete out some sort of response (aka vent on this clown).

It was bad enough when Jadakiss' song "Why" recently posed the awe-inspiring question 'Why did Bush knock down the towers?' and then stayed at the top of the charts for several weeks. If you need a Jadakiss barometer, it was shortly after the line 'Why'd Halle Berry have to let a white man pop her to get an Oscar?' Rest assured - If I ever needed advice on rolling blunts, wearing nothing but red velvet tracksuits or how to look like Charles Barkley with Down Syndrome, I'd certainly give Jadakiss a call.



But Parker has always presented himself as a prophet and scholar. Someone who will always 'teach the truth to the young black youth'. Here's a quote from his 1988 hit "My Philosophy" which I didn't even have to look up. You see, I absolutely loved this song as a kid and remember it line for line to this day: '... but I don't walk this way to portray - or reinforce stereotypes of the day - like all my brothas eat chicken and watermelon - talk broken english and drug sellin' - see I'm tellin' and teaching real facts...'. Well, Kris, when you were 18 you certainly were. But I wouldn't let you teach "Being a Phenomenal Cunt - 101" at this point, even though you'd be an phenomenal candidate.

His quotes yesterday in NYC only get better. In addition to saying "9/11 happened to them, not us," he clarified "them" as "those who are oppressing us. RCA or BMG, Universal, the radio stations." Or, whitey and jewey as they're more commonly known in Parker's insensitive little mind. He also claimed that he and other rappers "cheered when 9/11 happened." I find that rather difficult to believe and propose someone share the 9-11 victim demographics with him which are readily available on the 'internets'.

I imagine Kris Parker actually spent the majority of that horrible day the same way everyone else in this country did - frantically making phone calls, glued to CNN, trying to find out if their brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers were still alive. As Parker has lived in New York City all of his life, I'd even be willing to bet my extensive collection of BDP CDs. That is, if I hadn't just thrown them all in the garbage.

** Follow - Up 10/15/04

Kris Parker has apparently re-thought his inane outburst and had this to say:

“I was making an objective point about how many Hiphoppas as well as the oppressed peoples of the world felt that day,” KRS continued. “I am a philosopher and a critical thinker, I speak truth and I urge people to think critically about themselves and their environment. Yes, my words are strong. Yes, my views are controversial. But to call me a terrorist is simply wrong!”

"Terrorist"? I'll settle for "breathtakingly moronic". Why do I agree with the distinction? Because not even a terrorist could put a bullet behind the ear of your fading career the way you just did.

The Big Haunt: Halloween Costume Conundrums

I'm having a Halloween party this year, as some of you already know, and I'm affectionately referring to it as "The Big Haunt". It's Saturday October 30th at the SideBar - and is shaping up to be as horrifying as the prospect of having to see Teresa Kerry on television every day for the next eight years. That abrasive, confrontational, overprivilaged windbag reminds me of a cross between Dame Judi Dench and Beula Ballbricker from Porky's.

Some faithful readers of this blog have confided in me that they don't know what they're going to be for Halloween, and they just can't think of anything. I'm being Julian from Trailer Park Boys. All I need is a black T-shirt (done) black jeans (done) and to grow a goatee (almost done). I have two friends completing the set as Ricky and Bubbles and it's going to be hilarious. No fuss, no muss - done. Sure, only 1/5th of the guests will have any idea who we're supposed to be, but I'm not eligible for the costume prizes as the organizer - so who gives a Kerry's chance at the Presidency.

Look dear friends - stop agonizing. I'll reference Adam Sandler's 1991 SNL Weekend Update piece "How to stretch your Halloween dollar":

You can just use your own t-shirt! Go as Crazy One-Armed Man. [ stuffs one arm under his t-shirt ] "Hey, look at me! I only got one arm, and I'm crazy! Now give me some candy, or I'll grab you with my crazy one-arm!"

You can use something that's in your house, even.. [ laughs, holds spoon to his head ] How about a spoon? "I'm Crazy Spoon-Head! And I want some candy! I don't have a normal head, I got a damn spoon growing out of it! Now, give me some crazy candy, dammit! Ow-ooo, this spoon makes me crazy!"

So stop getting yourselves so wound up about it. It's just a little Halloween party. $6 pitchers, free food, a DJ and absolutely NO COVER. But you can always spend the night alone in a closet watching Ghoulies and eating nothing but stale candy corn and Hershey's Special Dark bars. That would be fun, too.

Documenting Debauchery: The Littlest Bar In Boston.

I hate being right all the time. I didn't fall off the wagon this past weekend, I was run over by the wagon in the middle of a muddy cowpath. My cell phone broke so if I haven't called you back, don't take it personally. Old friends and good times though. I don't regret any of it.



I have a new appreciation for The Littlest Bar. I have been there several times but always figured it was more of a tourist trap. I was wrong - we had an amazing time there (as you can see) and you should drop in if you've never been. It's located off of Bromfield St. near Park St. on Provincial. And it's the size of your closet. They store cases of beer on the windowsill, the pay phone is located in the unisex bathroom and it's jam-packed with only ten people inside. Apparently Monday nights are the busiest so I gander that means there'll be a whopping twelve. And what's good for the goose is good for the gander. And a rolling stone is worth two in the bush.



Damien was quick to demonstrate his personal rendition of Zoolander's signature "Blue Steel" look for a local who seemed just a wee bit too interested. Linda and Betsy battled the chilly New England autumn evening by improvising headgear. You know, the legal capacity of the place is 38. And there isn't enough room for a mouse to get a hard-on. But thank God they've got the souvenir thongs covered.

Friday's Quizzlet: Throwing Myself Off The Wagon.

Appetizer: What are your plans for the upcoming weekend?
I haven't had an alcoholic beverage for nearly three weeks. And I've quite enjoyed my self-imposed sebbatical sobriety. But my ex, whom I have not seen in 3 years, is in town (we're on good terms). And she's Irish. Lock up your liquor. 'Nuff said.



Soup: Who was the last person you talked to on the telephone?
Jim Fitzgerald, yesterday. But I rarely talk on the phone. Seriously. I'm not like Paulie from Goodfellas, who didn't talk on the phone because he was afraid of wire taps. I simply don't like phones. I have an aversion to them. I also don't threaten or torture people when they fail to give me protection money on time. Stern brow-beating or the silent treatment is usually quite sufficient.

Salad: Name a hobby that you've tried but eventually gave up for some reason.
There have been many. I wanted to make stop-motion plastercine movies when I was a kid. That lasted a summer. I made a cool version of Friday The 13th. Went through a lot of red clay on that one. I also collected trading cards for awhile. Other Canadian kids were goo-goo over hockey cards. But I still have a photo album full of Raiders of the Lost Ark cards which I compiled in 1981. It got me a Cub Scout Collector Badge, and several severe playground beatings. I wasn't always this large.

Main Course: What is the most important personality quality in a mate?
A nice ass. Oh, sorry. I misread that. A nice ass and the patience of a saint.

Dessert: Why is the sky blue (be creative with your answer)?
Because he's worried that with all the recent successes of SpaceShipOne, he'll soon have a traffic jam on his nose. I said ON HIS NOSE. A-one and-a two and-a three. I don't dance folks, this it it. I'm here all week - try the veal.

Colin Quinn's Toughest Crowd: Comedy Central.

Colin Quinn gets a bad rap. So I'm going to tell you why I'm a big Quinn supporter, and an enormous fan of his Comedy Central show - "Tough Crowd" - which I was recently horrified to hear is in grave danger of being cancelled.

A friend of mine grew up with Quinn's younger brother Mike in NYC. And I have it on very good authority that Colin is a great guy. I love the fact that he always messes up his lines. I love the fact that he mumbles and constantly self-depreciates. He's a tough, salty, stand-up comedian who's been walking the boards with balls since he was a teenager. And he truly cares about the state of the world today.

A lot of people don't "get" him. But I find his uncomfortable, booze-soaked, choppy, blue-collar style to be unique and honest - and have since I first saw him on MTV's Remote Control in 1988. I had a comedy special he did for MTV, "Colin Quinn Goes Back to Brooklyn" on VHS and watched it for years. I wish I still had it. Anyway, my point is - me and Colin go way back.

Tough Crowd is, in no uncertain terms, a brilliant show which we desperately need. That show used to be Jon Stewart's Daily Show before it turned into the "Jon-Stewart-shows-a-clip-of-a-politician-he-doesn't-agree-with-and-smirks-pompously-for-a-laugh" show. The Daily Show in the era of Steve Carell was one of the most consistently funny things on TV. But it's become little more than a violently partisan send-up and I just can't watch it anymore. I don't refuse to indignantly - I simply can't.

Let me make one thing abundantly clear at this point. People who read this blog regularly, even though I try to keep it relatively politik-free, know that I am conservative in nature. I'm a Canuck and cannot vote down here, but if I could it would not be for John Kerry. That's no secret, and it's now out of the way. I'll continue...



I would have also stopped watching the Daily Show if it had swung exclusively to the right instead. If I wanted to remain unchallenged, and have my opinion spoon-fed to me like pablum, I'd watch The O'Reilly factor exclusively or read nothing but the New York Times. Partisan comedy is not dangerous. It's not challenging. And it's most certainly not funny.

Enter Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn. If you haven't seen it, it's on Comedy Central every weeknight at 11:30 p.m. - or at least it will be for a few more weeks. The format is as follows: Four little-to-fairly well known celebrities, usually veteran stand-ups who've been on the circuit for years and are extremely quick on their feet, sit facing each other while Quinn poses questions dealing with current events to them which they then hash out. It's unscripted, save for the occasional skit-like segment, and it's brash, envelope-pushing, no-holds-barred and hilarious.

No one is safe, and no punches are pulled. The guests are from all walks of life - blacks, whites, hispanics, gays, liberals, conservatives etc. - and it can get pretty vicious at times. In one episode I sincerely thought Dennis Leary was going to punch Greg Giraldo in the face. In another Judy Gold (a Liberal/Jewish/Lesbian) took on Patrice O'Neal ( a black/conservative/Bostonite) in a battle over who's people have been more oppressed over the years. They hit hard, and they're honest, and they're always funny.

But there's an almost always underlying respect among the guests - perhaps because many of them know eachother from slugging it out on the comedy circuit for years - which makes this possible and productive. There's never any political correctness or sugar-coating, and everyone always walks away friends. It's a bit tough to describe, and I suppose the main point of this article is to get you, dear reader, to watch the show and form your own opinion.

I read that the reason Comedy Central wants to cancel Tough Crowd is because it doesn't retain enough of Jon Stewart's Daily Show audience which precedes it at 11 p.m. To me that is tragic. To me that's akin to cancelling a Dylan show because everyone is going to leave after the opening act, N'Sync. I am not criticizing Stewart's lefty audience. I am criticizing those members of his audience that are sitting in their high chair waiting for Mom to open that next jar of Gerber's. And I am vehemently criticizing Comedy Central for catering to them.

Tough Crowd is like watching your friends, who all love and respect eachother, argue in a bar on a Friday night. They speak their mind, they challenge each other's opinions, and they all leave friends. Debate is fucking healthy and we all need it in our lives. I cherish Tough Crowd, but it looks like the curtain is falling. Kudos to Colin - I'll be watching wherever you end up.

Google Gets Politically Correct - In Spades.

I work at an online ad agency. We have clients. Those clients pay us to manage their online advertising campaigns. Google has just scolded me and removed one of my client's ads because I used a word in an advertisement they felt was "in violation of their policies and guidelines". When Google takes down one of our ad campaigns, it hurts our client's sales and therefore threatens my very livelihood. So you'll forgive me if I endulge myself and share some of the the details with you now.

One of our clients is an electrical supply manufacturer. They make things like cable ties, butt splice connectors, wire markers, block spades, heat shrink tubing and fork terminals. Did you spot the offensive word there, folks? Not so fast, butty.



A block spade is some sort of a cable connector/insulator and is in wide use by electicians and contractors everywhere. This is also the term that Google felt offensive enough to warrant abruptly stopping my client's sales of last night by removing their ads from their almighty publishing network.

I can see you're confused. But then again, so was I. Let me try and explain.

"Spade" - on it's own and only in certain circumstances - is an antique racial slur. When you're referring to a poker game or planting a tree, it's a perfectly acceptable facet of the King's English. Dictionary definitions include: "sturdy digging tool", "black, leaf-shaped figure on certain playing cards" and "castrated man or beast". It can even be used as a verb when describing the act of digging.

Calling an African American a "spade" is something your Grandfather might have done right before cranking up his Model-T Ford or cranking one out to Betty Page. My point is, it's not even a racial epithet that's in use any more. If Google is penalizing electrical supply manufacturers for using the word, in an obviously non-pejorative format, I sincerely pity the garden tool and playing card industries. Oh, and Western civilization.

Mount St. Helens: Lessons In Eruption.

1980 was a great year. Post-It notes and the Sony Walkman were introduced, Reagan was elected President and Christina Aguilera, Nelly and Chelsea Clinton were born. Yes, t'was a truly glorious and defining year in human history.

At 8:32 Sunday morning, May 18, 1980, Mount St. Helens erupted. I was 7 years old at the time and remember watching it on TV well. Helen is back in the news again, and I wonder if I'm the only person who's a little concerned that residents of Washington State seem to have have completely forgotten what happened 24 years ago.

• 57 people were killed as a result of the eruption. Of these, 21 bodies were never recovered from the blast zone.
• 7,000 big game animals, 12 million Chinook and Coho salmon, and millions of birds and small mammals died in the eruption.
• The massive ash cloud grew to 80,000 feet (18 kilometers) in 15 minutes and reached the east coast in 3 days. Although most of the ash fell within 300 miles of the mountain finer ash circled the earth in 15 days and may continue to stay in the atmosphere for many years.

Scientists have been watching the mountain closely since last week when increased lava flow and other seismic data led officials to evacuate the surrounding 5 mile area. Friday's activity has been described as a "hiccup", and five miles may seem excessive to some people. But I'd like to again draw your attention to the fact that the ash cloud, which would be responsible for the bulk of any fatalities, spread 18km in 15 minutes back in 1980. It takes me less time to clean my apartment. And a lot less time time to make love to my imaginary girlfriend who sometimes visits me from Niagara Falls.

This "hiccup" is also the most activity that's been reported at the site since May, 1980.

Keep an eye on the Mount St. Helens Volcano-Cam and cross your fingers on behalf of these clueless cougars. And maybe see if we can get Nelly and Christina to headline the on-site Mount St. Helen's benefit that's due to kick off 14.5 seconds before the lava starts spraying.

DogGoneKnit.com Gets A Google Page Rank!

The dog sweater knitting pattern site that Janet and I have been working on finally broke it's little doggie cherry and got a Google Page Rank. And it's ended up with a rating of 5/10 which is no small feat for a new site. I am writing about this for two reasons:

1.) I am a tremendous dork and am actually really excited.
2.) Janet has informed me that I am no longer allowed to bother her about when we're going to get together to finish the site.

So folks, please - if you know my sister, phone, fax, email or IM her today and ask her why DogGoneKnit.com still isn't finished. She'll then tell you to f*ck off. But better you than me.

It'll be funny. I swear. Grr. Not Brr.

Rodney Dangerfield Is Dead.

I just heard this awful piece of news from a friend of mine who works for CNN. He is currently in a "news gathering trailor in cleveland for the VP debates" and it just came through the wire.

I need a moment to compose myself and will write more later.

OK. Later: Apparently my happy thoughts bought him an extra week, but that's a small consolation. If you need a laugh, listen to this. And I posted these in a comment last week, but I think a lot of you may have missed them. Here are my all time favorite Rodney Dangerfield jokes for you to commiserate and commemorate:

>> I tell you, with my doctor, I don't get no respect. Well, I told him I've swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills. He told me to have a few drinks and get some rest.

>> I tell ya when I was a kid, all I knew was rejection. My yo-yo, it never came back!

>> Some dog I got too. We call him Egypt because he leaves a pyramid in every room.

>> My wife and I were happy for twenty years. Then we met.

>> I'll tell ya, my wife and I, we don't think alike. She donates money to the homeless, and I donate money to the topless!

>> When I played in the sandbox the cat kept covering me up.

>> I could tell that my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.

And my all time favorite: >> A girl phoned me and said, "Come on over. There's nobody home." I went over. Nobody was home!

So long Rodney and thanks for all the laughs. You'll always have my utmost repect.

Friday's Quizzlet: Beating My Tiger.

Appetizer: What sound, other than the normal ringing, would you like your telephone to make?
Whalesong. Is my phone ringing, or is there a martian in my apartment? Sometimes I'd wake up and just not be completely sure.

Soup: Describe your usual disposition in meteorological terms (partly cloudy, sunny, stormy, etc.).
Mostly sunny with a chance of carefully timed resentment.

Salad: What specific subject do you feel you know better than any other subjects?
I'd like to say Search Engine Marketing or Mesothelioma. But the actual truth is Trailer Park Boys and The Pixies. Oh, and how to have good parties and draw scary goblins. Not so specific.

Main Course: Imagine you were given the ability to remember everything you read for one entire day. What books/magazines would you choose to read?
First I'd read a periodic element table - it'd be fun at parties. Then I'd read a sports almanac from the future and as many back issues of Tiger Beat as I could get my hands on. I'd be spitting Orlando Bloom facts like it was my job.

Dessert: If a popular candy maker contacted you to create their next candy bar, what would it be like?
It would be a cross between my three favorite candy bars: Nestle Crunch, Skor and Whatchamacallit - It would be called 'Whatinthefuckchamacallit'.