I think I posted this once before but I don't care. I want any of the guys from cleaninghunk.com to come over to my house, clean it, and then dirty me up and clean me from top to bottom. Pun intended.
But they can't talk, dance or wear silly little gladiator outfits - unless said outfit comes off immediately.
Once upon a time I went to the Black Eagle for a fundraiser with my friend Chris - since his boyfriend was helping to organize it. They were selling raffle tickets and you could buy an arm or leg's length of them. Of course I went for the leg length. Chris bent down to carefully and thoroughly measure my inseam and someone took a picture. A few weeks later I'm walking past the Eagle and the bouncer (who I knew) grabs me and pulls me in.
"Have you seen October's calendar yet?"
"No. Why?"
Then he handed it to me. I'd unwittingly and officially become October's Calendar Boy.
Please note the Bare Chested Sluts written across my chest.
Yesterday I was at the grocery store and saw that pomegranates were in a big display. Being the un-neat person I am, I usually shy away from such fruit. For me, eating a pomegranate usually results in me getting the juice on everything within a 10 foot radius, not to mention covering my clothes, hands and face. However, the display had instructions on how to eat it properly:
1. Cut off the top.
2. Score the skin (into quarters or what have you)
3. Submerge in a bowl of water and proceed to break apart and pick out the seeds.
4. Separate the seeds and water with a strainer.
What do you know? It worked! When in the water, the seeds sink to the bottom and the skins float to the top, making it very easy to separate the two.
I was actually able to daintily eat my pomegranate without leaving the place looking like I'd committed a mass-murder and then eaten the bloody, raw flesh with my bare hands.
While I was waiting for my lunch today, I noticed a ballot box on the counter for a contest to give away a Hummer or $12000 cash. I picked it up thinking I could use either right now (or at least the money from the Hummer) and almost filled it in - almost. My intelligent side kicked in (it does that now and again) and I thought it odd that they were giving away these prizes without having to buy anything. So I turned it over to read the fine print:
This contest is being used for the purposes of solicitation for future giveaways and vacation packages and to become a member of the Vacation Club.
Or something like that. I put the paper back down. I then stopped a woman from making the same mistake I almost did. Just goes to show that nothing in life is free.
I was bored so I looked up my hometown of Port Hope in Wikipedia. Here's what I found.
""Ganaraska" was the name attributed to the area by the natives of the region and is the name of the river that flows through the town. The name originates from "Ganaraske", the name for the Iroquois village which was located at the current townsite."
The Ganaraska Hotel is the name of a bar/"hotel" downtown that features Recycled Beer on it's menu.
"Port Hope is celebrated as having the best preserved 19th century streetscape in Ontario."
That's because the economy was so dead for so long.
"Downtown Port Hope is well-known as a shopping destination for antiques and other specialty items."
You wouldn't believe the number of retired faggy old men that live there now and run antique stores whose prices rival anything you could find in Toronto.
"Unfortunately, Port hope may be the most uranium contaminated community in Canada, next to Blind River. Port Hope's uranium refinery produced the uranium used in the nuclear bombs dropped on Japan in WWII."
On the east side of the plant is the harbour. On the west side is the Water Treatment Plant and beside that, a public beach. These are all right beside each other. It must explain the constant proliferation of mullets. But don't worry, it's perfectly safe. However it makes me wonder why I've never needed a nightlight. I just have my own green glow that surrounds me when it's dark. Doesn't everyone?
I recently came across a new Internet radio station at www.pandora.com. What sets this one apart from any other is that they have created what they call the Music Genome Project. Essentially what they've done over the past 6 years (and continue to do) is create a sort of DNA for music. Each song is not only defined by genre, but by influences, instrument, tempo, singing etc. I think that there's over a hundred attributes for every piece of music in their database.
So what you do is type in an artist or song that you like and it creates a radio station based on the attributes of your selection. When a song plays you can either tell it that you like it or not, and over time it will fine tune the station to your liking. They've got a great selection too - I heard tracks that I wouldn't expect any station to have. The sound quality is excellent too. Had it hooked into my stereo and playing all weekend.
Busy week. Not much time to post things.
I recently connected with my friend Sally who I'd lost touch with over the years. She sent me a picture of us at a party 5 or 6 years ago. Where does time go? And why does it make you get bigger as it goes by?
11:25am: As I look at the picture, I can't help but think back to how crazy, fun, awful, scary, exciting and difficult my life was back then. I felt so completely lost for so many years. These days, I feel more grounded. For the first time in my life I'm in a stable relationship, with a place to live that I can completely call my own. With the stability has come an increased self-awareness: what I'm about, what makes me tick, what I like about myself and what I don't and how to change it, some goals and direction for the future. All in all it's a much more fightening a state of mind than being lost ever was.
Hi there! Thanks for coming! In this course you will learn the fine art of Public Toilet Sex. After following these simple steps, you too can fuck all you want in any toilet in the world without ever alerting anyone to your activities:
1. Find your trick and walk nonchalantly down to the furtherest, most remote basement washroom you can find in a downtown city center. Preferable the one located three levels below, down a long, narrow hallway, behind the service elevator.
2. If no one's in there, walk to and enter the last stall - hopefully it's the handicapped one. If there are other people in the room, have your trick enter the stall first. Wait 30 seconds and then walk innocently into the stall.
3. Do your business and keep as quiet as possible. If there are automatic toilets, let them flush 7 times before stopping your activities to place a piece of toilet paper in front of the sensor.
4. When finished, let your trick leave first and make sure he has a really guilty face. Leave your jacket hanging in full view on the door when it opens.
5. Wait thirty seconds, then descreetly reach out and pull the door closed.
6. Wait another thirty seconds, walk out of the stall and straight over to a urinal.
7. Pretend to pee and look around for any other potential clients.
8. Walk away from urinal towards the door. Look for any other potential clients.
9. Stop at the door and make a face that says "Oh stupid me! I forgot to wash my hands!"
10. Walk towards air dryer. Look for any other potential clients.
11. Stop and make a face that says "Oops! I'm supposed to wash my hands first!"
12. Approach sink and begin washing hands. Look for any other potential clients.
13. Wash face and rinse mouth. Look for any other potential clients.
14. Proceed to air dryer and begin drying hands. Look for any other potential clients.
15. When finished, stand around with a blank look on your face. This will distract people from knowing that you are actually looking for any other potential clients.
16. Continue to alternate standing at urinals and washing hands repeatedly while looking for any other potential clients.
17. When next trick is found, go back to step 2.
There! Now you've completed your training and are ready for some real world action!
Good Luck!
Note: If you happen to be in the washroom below the food court in Scotia Plaza in downtown Toronto, just ignore the steps above and join in whatever group activity is taking place. Alternatively you can also join the others who sit in stalls, peek through the cracks and sniff poppers.
The PSB show last night was good. Not mind blowing, not super duper, not amazing, but just pretty good. What killed it for me was the volume - it was too quiet. The result of which was that the music sounded flat, and it was hard to really get into it. I think I've had PSB playing louder in my car. The Hummingbird Center has decent acoustics, so I blame the sound engineer for that one. Have to give props to the set designer though, he/she did a wicked job.
The mix of people was interesting - ages ranged from 20's all the way up to 60's and possibly beyond, with the majority being 40 and over. Ran into my ex, J, then my ex-neighbour who introduced me to an ex-trick who said "I remember you from the gym" as he shook my hand. Oh I remember you too. I got you off in the whirlpool, was what went through my head, but thankfully only a "hello" escaped my lips. Turns out my ex-neighbour is getting married to his partner in 2 weeks. I'm so happy for the both of them, they're great people.
All in all it was a good night, even if I didn't buy a $40.00 PSB t-shirt or a $30.00 program.
Last night at around 9:00pm there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find two little boys around 8 or 9 years old. The one with the afro asked "Do you want to buy a chocolate bar to help our school?" The other held out a Caramilk bar.
First thought: It's 9:00! Isn't that a little late to be out fundraising?? And where are the parents?
Second thought: Caramilk? Since when do schools sell Caramilk bars? It's usually those chocolate almonds that are so extremely addictive. Something tells me that that chocolate bar is so hot it's probably melting in his grubby little hands. Somewhere a convenience store is missing some inventory.
Third thought: Ummm... No.
So I politely said No Thank You and closed the door. I few seconds later I looked out and they were still standing at the driveway. They saw me watching and went over to the neighbour's. At that moment Q came storming down the stairs (he wasn't in a good mood to begin with). He'd been watching them from the bedroom upstairs and saw the little bastards spit on my car!
I jumped out of the way as he stormed out of the house, marched across the lawn and into the neighbour's front entranceway.
"I SAW YOU SPIT ON MY FUCKING CAR!! NOW GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!"
They didn't stand a chance. He marched them out of the house, heads down, tail between the legs and down the lawn to their bicycles where they silently got on and rode away. As we were watching them go down the street our neighbour came out of his house in his robe wondering what the hell just happened. He didn't seem to mind.
Don't these kids have homework? Bedtime? Parents?
Very sad.
Well, vacation time is over and I'm trying unsuccessfully to get back into work mode. We stayed in town for a few days, then headed over to Montreal on Thursday, came back on Sunday and then prepared a Thanksgiving feast for Q's family on Monday. Making food for 15 people is a lot of work. I can't take all the credit though, I stayed mostly out of the kitchen while Q and his mom took charge of the food. I know when to stay out of the way.
Here are some things I learned while on vacation:
