Ghosts from the Past

I met up with a friend of mine tonight who I hadn’t seen in almost a year. We had a bit of a falling out last year. We’ve been friends for 10 years, and have seen each other through plenty of ups and downs. She was seeing a total ass at the time, who was doing nothing for her, and she was making poor life choices. I had finally had enough of her complaining, and having gotten out of a bad relationship myself, couldn’t stand to see her getting wrapped up in some complete and total loser. So I told her so. I put her situation into perspective and showed her what it looked like from a third party. I gave her a good dose of reality, and I’m not one to bullshit or sugar coat things either – I tell it like it is. She didn’t like it, and wasn’t ready to hear it. I left the conversation with the ball in her court. She could call me again when she’d thought about our conversation. She never did. Until now.

She’s no longer with the jerk (but still secretly hung up on him I think), and has done a whole lot of soul searching since then. She’s also lost a lot of weight - way too much weight. When I last saw her, she was overweight, but slowly losing it. Being that big was not natural for her, and it was good to finally see the pounds sliding off. However, she’s half the size of when I last saw her. Her face is long, cheeks almost sunken, no boobs left at all, thin fingers, and a dry, pasty complexion.  If you were able to see her aura, it would be dim.

She claims that she doesn’t know why she’s rapidly losing weight, that she’s gone for numerous tests but nothing has come up.  Granted she has had her share of health problems over the years, and there may be a contributing physical reason, but that’s not it. She looks borderline anorexic.  She told me that she works out now, but works 11 – 13 hour days and goes on 4 hours of sleep on average, and has a ton of energy.

I’m worried. I think she has some sort of disorder and doesn’t realize it. Maybe it’s anorexia, or something else, but something just isn’t right.

I’m glad she called. I’m not quick to turn someone away who is reaching out. But I have a bad feeling. A very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach like I’ve never had before.

And I don’t like it at all.

Now everyone knows my secret.

This morning I was vegging out on the couch when I suddenly realized that I had an appointment with my podiatrist at 8:30. It was 8:05. I jumped up, called the office to let them know I'd be a few minutes late, threw on some clothes and ran out of the the house. I ended up being about 10 minutes late, so it wasn't a big deal.

After that I went to Tim's to get my green tea (which they seem to be getting right lately), then went to work. About an hour later I hopped on the subway to go to a client's. As I walked in the door, I got the usual hello's and then an odd comment - "Did you get a new pair of jeans?"

I was just about to say "Yeah, how did you know?" when I looked over to see this person politely pull the sizing sticker off the leg of my pants.

It's gotta be monday.

The K-Y Reply

Well I received the following response after bitching to K-Y about their crappy Warming Liquid Crap Lube:

Dear Normlr:

I am pleased to respond to your recent e-mail concerning K-Y® Brand Warming UltraGel(tm) Personal Lubricant.

Johnson & Johnson constantly strives to provide products of the highest quality possible. I regret your experience with our product but appreciate the time you took to give us your feedback. Please be assured that your valued comments will be communicated to our Quality Assurance team.

I ask that you provide me with the 12-digit UPC scan code, the lot number of the product and your full name and mailing address in order to complete our follow up. Once these have been received, I will be happy to send you a voucher for a complimentary package of any JOHNSON & JOHNSON® product of your choice in appreciation of the time you took to contact us.

If I can assist you further, please do not hesitate to e-mail us again or call the Information Centre toll-free at 1 800 361-8068.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth

JOHNSON & JOHNSON® Information Centre

-----------------------------------------

That Elizabeth is so nice. How kind of her to offer me free product in return for the crappy one. She should get a raise. I guess it does pay to complain to companies if you are dissatisfied with their product. If anyone else still has their lube tube, just go to K-Y's homepage and fill out a complaint form. After I get my coupon in the mail, I'll be emailing them once more to let them know that other people I've spoken to share my same views.

Bitch out.

Epiphany.

It has occurred to me recently that I've been angry for a very long time. Not angry at any one person or thing in particular, but just pure anger nonetheless. I had surpressed it for all these years, only for it to manifest itself in other ways and once again rear it's ugly head. That's why I got sick earlier this year. When I get upset or stressed, the first thing to go is my stomach. So when I spent a number of months with severe digestive troubles, it was my rage tying to find some kind of outlet.

As a kid, we were never encouraged to express - let alone discuss our feelings. When we were punished, we weren't told exactly why what we did was wrong and it wasn't up for discussion either. It was early on that I learned to keep everything inside because trying to talk about it was fruitless. I tried off and on throughout the years, but soon realized talking with my parents about anything remotely personal was completely useless. Case in point - I tried to talk to my parents after I left Psycho. I told them that he was an abusive alcoholic. The response I got was "Oh, (well this is uncomfortable, let's change the subject) What's happening with the house?" That hurt - a lot. I was so disappointed that I'd managed to build up the courage to talk, only to be let down once again. A prominent pattern in my life.

I had the distinct fortune in life to be gay. I knew this as a very young child. In fact I don't ever recall a time in my life when I didn't know I was gay, or at least different. I was left to deal with it alone, as I was with most problems in my life. As a result, I was left with an extreme sense of loneliness and insecurity as a child. I only had a few friends growing up, and they were always girls. I just related better with them as they tended to be kinder, gentler and accepted me for who I was. I liked playing with dolls. I liked playing with Strawberry Shortcake. I also liked playing with Transformers, trains, and Star Wars figures. To me, a toy was just a toy and I didn't understand the taboo associated with which belonged to which gender. Girls had no problem with this, however boys did. So not only did I have the constant feeling that I was different, and that was bad, I also liked toys that I wasn't supposed to, and that was bad as well. And most of my friends were girls, and that was bad. Luckily as I branched out into my teenage years, I was able to find a good, close circle of friends who were just as wacky as myself, all of us in different ways. It felt good to finally belong.

But all those years of feeling isolated and shut off took their toll. Come to think of it, that's probably why I took to acting as a teen. It allowed me to express feelings and emotions, even if they weren't my own. My first real girlfriend - Cling-on (no not as in Star Trek) - as she was oh so affectionately known - was my first taste of a jealousness and possessiveness. She used to accompany me anywhere I went if girls were going to be there, even if they were my friends. Little did she know at the time that there was nothing to worry about.

When I finally allowed myself to like boys, I met The Walrus. Yet another person who clung to me, held me back, and tried to isolate me from the world. Then there was Psycho, who requires no further explanation, and finally J - who I haven't talked a lot about. We dated for about 6 months before I finally succumbed to my feelings for Q. But J had problems, was clingy and insecure, and a borderline alcoholic. Finally Karma swooped down and helped bring Q into my life. He's none of those things, and couldn't be if he tried. I love him more because of that.

As you can see, every one of those people shared a lot of similarities. When you feel lonely and that your feelings don't matter, that you aren't worth sticking up for, people like that come into your life. You let them in because that's all you know. The years I spent with Psycho I was almost completely shut off. I didn't really have an opinion on anything, and didn't really care. It used to drive him nuts, but with him, if I had the misfortune of having the wrong opinion, there was hell to pay. So I let him decide almost everything. It just wasn't worth the battle. I wasn't worth the battle.

The scary part to all of this is that my brother and sister have both fallen into the EXACT same traps in their lives. My brother has finally split up with his Medusa-esque bitch wife. I think that she may be related to Psycho. It frightened me when I realized the similarities between those two. Unfortunately, they have 2 very screwed up kids. They would have had more, but she kept "losing" the babies 3/4 the way through the pregnancy. I know for a fact that one was aborted, but she told everyone it was a miscarriage. Her mother let it slip. The only reason why she got pregnant in the first place was because he would threaten to leave. I hadn't spoken to him in 10 years until my uncle's funeral. I just didn't want anything to do with him while she was in the picture. We'll see if she's really gone this time.

As for my sister, she dated someone in highschool who was very controlling as well. She told me that had she stayed, it would definitely become abusive. She was lucky enough to find the strength to get out early, meet another guy in highschool and now they're married with 2 kids. Her husband's great, and I'm glad he's in our lives. She still has problems dealing with the scars of that relationship even today.

The therapy is helping a lot. It used to make me feel so bad to think of what I went through with Psycho and everyone else. I couldn't understand why I would let those kinds of things happen to me. I'm starting to understand now, and I feel better.

So anyone out there who's reading this, if you have kids or are planning on having kids, please talk to them. Discuss everything - the good and especially the bad. Make sure to explain why you want them to do the things you do, and listen to them when they disagree or don't understand. I know my parents love me and raised me the best that they could. They both grew up in similar environments, so it's all they knew as well. I'd just like for the cycle to be broken.

Virtual Reality

A friend sent me an email containing the work of Julian Beever. He's a pavement artist who draws images that, when viewed from the correct angle, look 3D.



Absolutely amazing. You can see more of his work here.

K-Y Warming lube isn't so hot

I bought something today.

Really? What is it?

Take off your clothes.

Okay!

I got the warming gel!

Cool!

Feel anything?

Well, feels nice.

Is it getting hot?

Um, maybe. I'm not sure.

Maybe it needs more friction. How about now?

I think so. maybe. I can't really tell.

Hmm, let me try.

Is it working??

Doesn't really feel any different. It's getting sticky, let me put a little more on.

Eww, doesn't taste very good.

You're not supposed to eat it!

It's not like I meant to!

Ugh, I can taste it on your lips.

This is getting really sticky. Just pass me the other stuff.

-----------

There, I just saved you all $18.99.

Update: I decided to email KY Canada and tell them that their product is crap. I'll let you know what happens when I get a response.

Listen Bitch

When I tell you that I can't fix your printer problem until the server is rebooted, don't give me flack. Don't ask me why the other printers work but that one doesn't, and then not accept my answer when you don't even know what you are talking about. And don't look at me like I'm stupid when I have 6 years of experience behind me in dealing with such trivial issues when you wouldn't even know what to look for in the first place. Stick with what you know, and I'll do the same.

And why when I send you a 2 line email asking you to close Outlook and all other programs because the server is going down do you come to me complaining that you can't get to your Excel files? Of course you can't, the server is down. That's why I asked you to close all other programs. I guess next time I'll have to specify Outlook, Word, Excel, Access, Quickbooks, and SuperPornMAchine2000.exe.

Sheesh

Danny Ford

Well all this bully talk got me thinking about another one from when I was in grade 7.

You see, when you're in middle school, there are only 2 levels of hierarchy - Grade 8 Bullies, and everyone else. Danny, of course fell into the former. Even though I never had any direct altercation with him, he and his cronies still managed to instill fear whenever they glared my way.

I do remember however, when he decided to do something different with his blonde mullet. Skid Metal was very popular back in the day (and still is in Port Hope, sadly) and I guess he wanted to emulate his favourite skid and get a curly mullet. So Danny got a perm.

Just imagine the sight of one of the scariest kids in school walking into the schoolyard with tight, long, blonde, poodle-curled hair. It was like his hairdresser (a.k.a. Mom), used the smallest rollers that she could find with the strongest perm product, and left it in for 8 hours. It was pretty hard to take him seriously after that, but none of us pushed our luck.

This past winter, Danny Ford drove his snowmobile at high speed directly into a tree. Apparently there were pieces of him and the snowmobile scattered everywhere.

Colin Brown

When I was in grade 6, me and a couple of friends used to meet at the highschool and walk together to our school, which was a few blocks away. As usual, there was also a gang of grade 8 kids who used terrorize us whenever we had the misfortune of appearing on their radar.

One day, after school had finished, I walked back by myself - the lone sheep who had strayed from the herd. I hadn't walked very far when this same group of kids came out of nowhere and swarmed me. The leader of the clan, a little toadie named Colin Brown, walked up to me, and without saying a word, punched me in the stomach. Then they took off.

I was pretty weak, self concious, and didn't know how to stand up for myself back then. So I made my way back to my school and burst into the classroom in a fit of humiliation and tears. My teacher calmed me down, had me tell her what happened, and called my parents to come pick me up.

The next day, I was called to the office, along with my teacher to meet with a police officer. I was informed that we were going to go across the street to Dr. Hawkins (the 7-8 school from hell) and that we were going to have a talk with Mr. Brown.

It was right near the end of the school year, so all the kids were writing exams in the gym. We showed up at the entrance - a teacher, a student and a cop - and pulled Colin away from the exam he was writing. We were then taken to a room where the cop had a little chat with him. I never had a problem after that.

However, as it turned out, Colin's sister and my sister were best friends, so you can imagine stupid he looked on top of it all. In September he went off to highschool, where he soon learned that far from being Mr. King Shit, he was actually at the bottom of the shit pile. My brother, the big , dumb jock, also happened to be finishing his last year of highschool then too.

One day, during the first week of classes, my brother walked up to him, grabbed him by the collar and threw him against a locker.

"Are you Colin Brown?" he asked.

"Yes" was the reply.

"I'm Jonathan's older brother." And then he let him drop. After that, Colin refused to go to school for 3 days. My sister told me he threw up every morning.

Years later, when I was home from University, I read in the local paper that Colin Brown was charged with molesting a 6 year old boy.

Taking Control

Yesterday, after my therapy session, I realized that I don't have to forgive Psycho for all the things that happened while we were together. I have to forgive myself.

After that, everything else is inconsequential.

Update: Dickeybird commented on the fact that he didn't think that there was anything that I had to be forgiven for. On the logical side that's true, but unfortunately on the emotional side it's not.

As the textbooks will tell, people in my situation are often left with a sense of shame, guilt, and embarassment for having put up with the crap for so long - regardless of the reasons for staying. It really doesn't make much sense, but it's usually the end result. What I am trying to do is understand exactly what in my life led up to that point, where my head was at, and what my motives were. Once I know the answer, then I'll have reason(s) to justify my behaviour (whether I like those reasons or not), and I won't feel so stupid anymore.

Things to see and do

Ever wondered what Star Wars Episode III would be like translated from English to Chinese and back to Engrish again? It would be called Star War Episode 3, The Backstroke of the West.

Floating Kitties. Cats captured in mid-flight. Cute.

Weight Watchers recipie cards from the 70's. You too can lose weight by making Fluffy Mackerel Pudding, Celery Log, Fish "Tacos", and my personal favourite - Inspiration Soup.



I'm inspired to never eat soup again.

Back to life, back to reality

Well, I'm back from my vacation. It was nice to have a week off with nothing to do, nowhere to go and no specific plans at all. I even took time off of blogging just to completely disconnect myself from my daily life.

During my days off I had a lot of time to think, and I had a lot of things to think about. A few days prior to my vacances, I had a session with my therapist. She struck a nerve that day, and released a lot of crap that had been buried deep down, and was never to see the light of day again, thank you very much. So it all came up in a flood. I'd been stressed out a lot over the past few months, as the volcano was preparing to erupt - and erupt it did.

As the days went by I started to feel angry. Very, very angry. I wasn't sure at what or who exactly, so it inevitably festered itself in some problems between Q and I. Monday night was the movie fiasco and by Tuesday, I was absolutely miserable, and almost beside myself. I had a pained look on my face all day, and when Q came home from work, I could barely stand to be in the same room as him. I ended up sleeping on the couch a couple of nights. It wasn't anything that he did at all, but I was just seething and wanted to be left alone. It got to the point where I was even contemplating ending things.

On Wednesday the chair arrived - that helped. Four massages later and a session with my therapist, and I felt better. When Q came home that night, we had a very frank talk and sorted some things out that we had both let slide. I soon came to realize the root of my rage, and once that happened, it dissipated very quickly. Of course I then had to explain to Q what it was all about and reassure the poor guy that he wasn't driving me over the edge.

Thursday I woke up with a smile on my face. I was happier and more relaxed than I had been in a very long time. It was like I just went through a cleansing. My new-found morning ritual of going to Tim Hortons for tea and then spending time in Withrow Park became a time of appreciation, not morbid reflection. It was nice.

It pisses me off a bit to think that I wasted most of my vacation time sulking on my own, but I guess that's just what I needed. I did end up having a great weekend, and feel much better at work too. I don't regret taking a week off just to myself, since I obviously needed it, but don't think I would do it again. I'd rather take that and make it some quality time with Q. Plus I think a real vacation is in order next time.

The Party Poopers

This week I'm on vacation. I took the whole week off to do absolutely nothing. No plans to go anywhere or do anything in particular. Unfortunately, when you have a lot of time to yourself, it allows you to think - a lot. You start thinking about things that the stresses of everyday life allow you to push aside. I thought about that stuff yesterday, and it put me in a bad mood. I realized that a large part of me is unhappy. Unhappy with certain aspects of my relationship with Q. These are things which have already been acknowledged, discussed and are being worked on. Nevertheless, they still bother me and I'm not sure that they can be resolved.

When Q came home yesterday, we had a talk, which made me feel better. He then suggested that we go out on a date to break the monotony. I thought it was a great idea, and appreciated the effort. We decided to go to a Japanese Steakhouse we'd both wanted to try, and then go see Wedding Crashers. It's a comedy, has had good reviews, and would be a good way to lift my spirits.

Dinner was excellent. Some of the best sushi in the city. We then made our way to the movie theatre. We had some time to kill, and decided to stop in at Indigo Books. Much to my surprise, I looked over and saw a huge line of people waiting to get their books signed by Bruce Campbell, my favourite B movie star of all time. I contemplated joining them, but the lineup looked to be an hour long. We checked out some cookbooks instead.

We headed up to the theatre just after 9, since the movie started at 9:20. Well at least all the commercials and previews started then. I was starting to feel a lot better and then the movie started. Within 15 minutes I hated it. Absolutely fucking hated that movie. Everyone around me was laughing, and I didn't find it funny at all.

The movie starts with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughan in their offices, where we soon learn that Vince is obnoxious, and Owen is the quiter type. They are all excited about the wedding season, which is then abruptly followed by a 10-15 minute montage of them going to party after party after party. At the end Owen starts feeling dissatisfied with the whole scene, and is wanting something more that casual sex. Vince convinces him to do one more. They go and he falls in love with the bride's sister, who has a boyfriend. At this point he's already lied to her and given a fake name and fake background (oooh, conflict). Vince has sex with a girl who becomes really clingy and won't leave him alone (oooh funny conflict). Owen wants to stay and try to win her over, while Vince wants to leave. Fill in the rest of the plot with sitcom situation #652, and you've got the rest of the movie.

At this point I couldn't take it anymore. It was 10:15 and I was sitting in my seat, feeling like I'm being forced to sit through 2 hours of Everybody Loves Raymond or something. Not to mention I had just paid $48 for 2 tickets, a popcorn and 2 drinks - plus 5 dollars in parking. When I'm paying over 50 bucks to see a goddamned movie, I feel that I should be entertained. I'm sick of paying that kind of money for crap. After sitting through The Next Best Thing (that horrible Madonna and Rupert Everett movie), Far From Heaven (Julianne Moore and Dennis Quaid - at least 10 people walked out of that one) and Spiderman 2 (which Q slept through), I swore never to sit through a film and torture myself again. The Ring II sucked ass too, but at least it was so terrible that it was funny. So after an eternity of sitting uncomfortably, getting up to go to the bathroom and wandering around to kill time, I sat back down and told Q how crap I thought the movie was. He asked that I wait a few more minutes to see if it gets better. Well, after another hour (which was more like 5 minutes in real time) I asked him what time it was. He replied "It's 10:15. Do you want to go?" I was out of my seat faster than you could say "I just wasted 50 bucks."

I don't know if it was the movie, or just my mood. Q didn't think the movie was that great either, but he at least found it somewhat enjoyable. I like my comedies to have some wit, not "he's funny cuz he's big and talks a lot, and talks with food in his mouth, and bangs a lot of chicks."

I guess I was disappointed because I thought that I would really like this movie. If I wanted to go see a bad movie, then I would have changed my mind frame to bad movie mode. In the past I've surprised myself by laughing at choice films like Zoolander and Deuce Bigalo. The difference was I expected crap, got crap, and enjoyed the crap for what it was - and I paid $4.99 to rent the DVD.

I don't think I'll go see movies in the theatres anymore. Not unless I really really really really really want to see it. I'll just wait for the DVD, make my own popcorn and relax at home. If I don't like it, at least I can watch something else.

How not to sell something.

OK, I am absolutely terrified to go to the smokey mountains. This is why.

And yes, it's safe to view at work.

Update Aug 4 - Well they changed the picture. It used to be the world's most scariest, retarded kitten. Oh well.

Show and Tell

They say that you should learn something new every day. Last night at a party, I learned from someone that you should never feed balogna to your pet hamster.

The hamster will eat it, however, since they aren't carnivores, they lack the means to properly digest the food. As a result the hamster will get constipated and explode.

Now you know too.

Vacation Chair

Well, after much debating, Q and I decided to get a Panasonic Massage chair. We saw it a few weeks ago, tried it out and loved it. When you first get in, it scans your back and finds your shoulders and other pressure points for a custom massage. It also does your legs and feet and butt. It does different types of massages, but the Shiatsu setting is absolutely awesome. You can also set it to concentrate on just one area as well. We don't really have the room for it, but don't care either. We'll make room.



The thing is, we could have gone on a vacation for what the damn thing costs, but we did get a great deal on it (shopping around really pays off). Plus it will be like a mini vacation every time either of us sit in it. It arrives on Wednesday.

Pampering is good.

Temperamental (I Don't Want You to Love Me)

I could go on for hours about the meanings of different aspects of this one.....
(click image for larger picture)

You know, after looking at it some more, I think it's missing something. Not sure what yet, but I think I'll play around with it a bit more. Not going to touch the other one though.

Missing

Folsom got my creative juices flowing again. (click image for a larger picture)

The Folsom Experience

I had my booth at Folsom Fair North on Sunday. For those not in the know, Folsom Fair originated in San Francisco. What originally began as a small leather/bear street party on Folsom Street soon grew to become a huge annual event. Thanks to the disgusting constraints at the U.S. border banning any HIV+ people from entering, promoters here (thanks John and Dean) decided instead to bring the party to Toronto. At least something good has come out of such a bigoted rule instituted by the american government. This is the third year for the party in Canada, and it's grown every year to now include a live stage, beer garden, vendor and art booths.

One of the booths was from Steamworks. As I walked by, I was taken aback by a wall with cartoon drawings of 3 men, bent over holding rather large, swollen, red asses wide open, not unlike this. To make matters worse, when I walked by a while later, I saw people throwing life-sized fists through the assholes to win a prize. Twisted and Brilliant.

From my booth I could see the porno tent. There were 2 porn stars working the booth, one of whom was absolutely gorgeous. I'd have done him, or let him do whatever to me, in a second. Never got his name though. Guess I'll just have to keep renting movie after movie until I find out who he is. There was also another booth with XXX movies playing. At least it was something to watch if I got bored.

It rained in the morning. It rained a lot. Pretty much downpoured on and off from 9AM until 3PM. After that, the clouds broke, the sun came out and the humidity returned. Despite all that, there were still a fair amount of people that came to check the park out before the sun.

Lots of great people watching too. Like the man in the red boots, fishnet stockings, leather hotpants and vest and cowboy hat. Or the guy with the dog head shaped gimp mask. Or the 800 year old man wearing nothing but a jock. Or the rather large woman who took half an hour (no exaggerating) to squeeze into (and spill out of) a chainmail boustier. As ridiculous as they may have looked, it was a fetish fair, and I think it's awesome that they felt comfortable and secure enough to wear their favourite gear out for the day. Besides, I'm not one to talk. I've worn my share of fetish gear to various events throughout the years. But there are limits.

I will not ever, ever, ever condone black socks with dress shoes worn with anything else but dress pants. Imagine the sight of a middle aged man walking around in nothing but his tightie whities - and black socks with dress shoes. Oh the horror. It was even worse when I spotted him walking around naked later. Eww.

As for my booth, I had a lot of traffic, made a few contacts, and got rid of a lot of business cards. Unfortunately, no one bought anything, but there were a few interests. I wasn't really expecting to sell anything anyways (though it would have been nice). It wasn't the type of venue where people would be bringing a ton of extra cash to purchase a piece of art and then walk around with it. Especially considering the weather. I did however, get a lot of compliments, which was very nice, and a lot of exposure.

I'm just a new artist. As such, I don't believe that I can command the high prices that some other people do. I'd rather my art get purchased people who don't want, or can't afford to pay the high prices for original pieces. As long as I cover the expenses of the piece, and make a little money, then I'm happy. Personally, I think a lot of art is overpriced anyways. I understand that some artists are trying to make a living, but still. I actually even had someone walk in, tell me that my work was good, but then remark in a condescending tone that I should "jack up my prices." Asshole.

In the end it was a good day. A fun day, even despite the rain. The temperature was warm, so the wet didn't matter. Plus we desperately needed the rain. It's been very hot and humid for the past few weeks. Q and Krista also kept me company and helped me set up and take down the booth. Having them around help make a long day fun.

Like I said, I didn't sell anything, but overall it was a success.

Mean but funny

Some person in China went to a parking lot and took pictures of people having sex in their cars. The expressions on their faces are priceless. So horrifying (for them anyways) yet still funny.

http://fashionplace.ru/lj/china_sex.htm

You're it!

Well I got tagged, thanks Dickey. So here goes:

10 years ago: I had just finished highschool and would have just moved into my new apt with my first boyfriend, The Walrus. There was nothing more exciting than leaving the farm and moving to the big city - where I fit in much better. Small town boy grows up to be big town girl.

5 years ago: In the beginnings of my relationship with Psycho and moved out on my own to live in a bachelor apt. I hadn't lived alone before - or since. Wouldn't do it again either, but was necessary at the time (if only I'd stayed there and not moved in with psycho....). Also had started my first career job doing on-site tech support for companies around Toronto.

1 year ago: Was in the throes of the beginnings of my relationship with the only man I've truly ever loved. Also 2 months into my new job as head of the tech department.

Yesterday: Getting an old client back. They originally stuck with my old employer when I moved on. Yesterday they crying back to me. It's nice to be appreciated.

Today: On hold with Bell. What else is new?

Tomorrow: Get my refurbished orthotics back. I've been living without them for almost 3 weeks. I feel like an old man complaining about my aching legs and hips all the time. Thank you god, for giving me the world's flattest feet ever.

5 snacks I enjoy: Snickers, almonds, tortilla chips, fruit, anything chocolate

5 bands/singers that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: Erasure, Pet Shop Boys, New Order, Abba, Beautiful South. Gay enough for ya?

5 things I would do with $100,000,000: Pay off debts, give to friends and family, travel the world, get all the toys and gadgets I could ever want, build my dream home with dream car - Barbie move over, there's a new girl in town!

5 locations I'd like to run away to: Australia, New York, an island somewhere remote, the Land of Big, Beautiful, Hairy Man-Slaves, the Land of Chocolate (if Dickey will let me in).

5 bad habits I have: Smoking, too many martinis, speaking before thinking, little patience for other drivers, sleeping in.

5 things I like doing: Sleeping in, listening to music, watching bad horror movies, working on my art, eating

5 things I would never wear: capris, white jeans, flip flops, a knitted scull cap, size 60 jeans falling past my ass, with the crotch below the knees and 5 yards of fabric gathered at my ankles and tucked into my socks - but only in the back. (saw that one yesterday)

5 TV shows I like: Desparate Housewives, The Family Guy, Boston Legal, Crossing Jordan, CSI

5 movies I like: Sixteen Candles, Spirited Away, Pricilla Queen of the Desert, Revenge of the Nerds, Queen of Outer Space

5 famous people I'd like to meet: Ryan Reynolds (perferably alone in a hotel room), Peter Jackson, Neil Tennant, Ben Watt, and that chick from the Go Go's who was on The Surreal Life - she looks like a lot of fun.

5 biggest joys at the moment: My kitties, my boyfriend, my niece and nephew, my friends, men in shorts

5 favorite toys: PVR, iPod, car, digital camera, computer

Tagging: Anyone who's reading this

New Page

With my tent at Folsom Fair North only a week away, I locked myself up in the apartment all day Sunday to finally get some work done. Actually turned out to be a productive day, even though I sat and stared longingly out the window at the beautiful weather outside.

Got the first iteration of my new web page up. Check it out.

www.jbarrie.com

If your best friend jumped off a bridge, would you do that too?

For sheep, the answer is yes. I can't help but think that they knew.

Making the world a better place

In case you aren't angry enough over the terrible tradgedy that took place in London today, have a look at this article in the LA Weekly. Thank god the USA has the AFA to make the gay go away.

I feel so sorry for people in the States right now.

What doesn't kill you....

As I've alluded to in other posts, my relationship with Psycho was anything but normal. It was a crazy 4 years filled with fun, excitement, travel, sex, infedility, partying, drugs, episodes of crazy screaming and ranting (not by me), ambivilence, alcohol, hurt, verbal, emotional and physical abuse and revenge - just to name a few.

Psycho was bipolar with more than a few short circuits and a few screws loose. Add alcohol and drugs to the mix, and you had quite the cocktail.

But for some reason I stayed. It was like a drug in itself. There were lots of highs and lots of lows, but not much in between. Just when things were going really well, and I was happy he would do something that would bring me crashing back down to the ground - hard. But like a junkie itching for his fix, I waited around for that high again.

After almost 3 years, we ended up buying a house together. It was primarily his idea, and I just went along for the ride. I pretty much didn't care about anything in those days (including myself when I look back), and would just do things not because I really wanted to, but because I could and well, why not give it a try? As it turned out, we got this great little house that I fell completely in love with. It wasn't without it's challenges, but it was mine, it was just what I wanted - and most importantly it felt like home. Apartments don't feel like home to me. They never have and never will. I live in one now and am just itching for the chance to buy a house again. It won't happen any time soon, since I'm much smarter now, and I want to wait until I feel much more comfortable with my relationship with Q. I'm fairly certain that we will get there.

But I digress, back to the story.

Psycho and I had this house, and foolishly I thought that it would make things better. A lot of people fall into that trap, and I guess now I see why. I also see how utterly stupid it is - it's like thinking that having a baby will make a troubled marriage improve. During this period is when things really started getting out of hand. Psycho started drinking more, and our fights got worse. At first I thought that I might have been partially responsible, since I was drinking too, so I gradually cut back. Things still continued to get worse, only now they were becoming clearer since the alcohol wasn't fogging my brain. It got so bad that there were more than a couple of nights that I found myself running out of the house at 2 or 3 am with nothing but the clothes on my back, my shoes and my wallet. Psycho would be screaming at me out the window (in the quiet neighbourhood we lived in) saying how much he fucking hated me, not to come back etc etc etc. I had done absolutely nothing to deserve this. In fact I had every right to be in his position with our roles reversed.

The next morning, Psycho would wake up, alone, and have no recollection of what had transpired the night before. I would eventually come home, explain everything and the look of shock and dispelief on his face was genuine. Of course he promised it would never happen again, and would kiss my ass for a few days. Then, if I was still upset after that, he would get on my case and get pissy because it had happened over a week ago and I still wasn't over it.

I tried to tell him about his problem and he just wouldn't listen. I tried many different approaches. I even went so far as to ridicule him in public. Picture this - we're in the liquor store and looking at wine to bring to a friend's for dinner. Psycho picks up 3 bottles. My response (not hushed in any way): "Do you think that you should be buying that much wine? You know that you can't handle your alcohol very well." Apparently that didn't go over very well.

Another time, after his 4 day drunk fest (loosely referred to as his birthday) resulted in me having to leave for the night yet again, I snapped. We had a pretty decent sized and varied liquor collection. I came home from work shortly after the incident and proceeded to uncork, unscrew and uncap every single bottle and pour it down the drain. This included all of 13 bottles of wine Psycho got for his birthday, the unopened 25 year old scotch we bought together in Panama, and even the vodka. I poured vodka down the drain. If there were ever a more blashphemous act, I can't imagine it.

Things finally came to a head in the summer of 2003. I had gone away for the weekend to visit my folks and came home to an empty house on Sunday afternoon. I knew immediately what that meant, and began the mental preparations for yet another war. Finally at 11:00 our friend Ed called and let me know that he was bringing Psycho home from a day and night of drinking at the Eagle.

Psycho came home upset. Apparently he ran into someone he didn't like at the bar and it made him cry. Seriously. Needless to say, he didn't get any sympathy from me when he told me the story. That set him off and suddenly the hateful, spite filled screaming started. Psycho started screaming and running around the house, then stomped up the stairs, into the bedroom then back down again. All the while doing nothing but screaming AHHHHHHH!!!! Then he flipped the coffee table over. The whole scene was too much. We had thick, wooden, california shutters over the front window. Had they not been there, the table would have smashed completely through. As it was, he broke one of the slats. All of the sudden he started screaming "I broke it! I broke it! It's broken! It's broken!" Over and over again.

I looked over at Ed. Up until this point, no one had ever been witness to the private hell that I had been living through. Ed saw it, and for the first time, I saw it through his eyes. I suddenly saw the situation for what it was, completely removed from the internal drama, and was witnessing this madman tearing up the house, while his boyfriend stood there - brave, yet battered and helpless. I was horrified at what I saw and walked out of the house.

Ed and I sat on the steps of the rec centre across the street, listening to the commotion coming from the house. At this point I knew I could never go back. I had tried. Tried to be understanding, tried to be forgiving, tried to help him deal with his problem, tried to keep our relationship alive, tried to hold on to this house that meant everything to me. Tried to go on living with the abuse and decided finally that I'd had enough and wouldn't take it any more.

Ed thought it would be a good idea to go back into the Amityville house and try to calm Psycho down. He came out a few short minutes later telling me that in all his life he had never, ever witnessed anything like that. I quietly started to feel ashamed. I ended up going back to Ed's that night, went to work the next day, came home silent and stayed that way. The next day I went to the gym after work.

As I was on the treadmill, I just kept repeating the words "gotta leave" to myself over and over again. With every step I was saying it and growing stronger. Finally I headed home, walked in the door, up the stairs and began packing my suitcase. Psycho had been in the backyard and after a few minutes came upstairs and quietly asked what I was doing. Quietly asking because he had completely lost voice from his hysterical antics.

I calmly replied that I was leaving. He didn't try to stop me. Didn't even ask me why, or if I'd reconsider. It was the calmness in my voice that did it. It was very apparent that my mind was made up and that it wasn't open for discussion.

As I walked out the door I started to smile. It soon spread wide, from ear to ear. I think it was safe to say that I was beaming. The weight was lifted off my shoulders and I was free. Free from the tyranny and free to live my life - not someone else's. I have to say that there is nothing more grounding in life than leaving all your material possessions behind and starting from scratch. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. I eventually came back for a lot of my stuff, but for a while nothing in this world held me down. I had my clothes and my car and it was all I needed. Also, thankfully Psycho and I had made up a pre-nup before buying the house. Pretty much everything was all ready settled so that wasn't a worry.

At this point, I'd like to say that I lived happily ever after, but this isn't fiction, it's life and there are consequences to your actions.

As any victim of abuse will tell you, there's a lot of baggage that comes along well after it's over. You feel guilty that it happened. You feel ashamed. You feel like less of a person. When I got my sense of confidence and self worth back, I looked back at my life unable to believe that I had let someone do that to me. That I had let someone treat me so badly and kept coming back for more. That it was my fault all along for staying in the situation and not leaving. It's classic, it's a normal reaction to the situation, and it hurts.

What made it worse was that I was having a lot of trouble dealing with the aftermath, and went searching for help. I asked my doctor, but the names and numbers he gave me weren't what I was looking for. I tried the local gay resource centre, but the people there (bless their hearts for trying) weren't much more than above school councelor in their abilities, in my opinion. I was left feeling helpless once again.

Abused women have shelters, support groups, books, online resources etc. Alcoholics have programs like AA. Families of alcoholics have ALANON. What did I, as a gay man who had been abused, have at my disposal?

Nothing.
Zero.
Nada.
Zilch.

I was left to deal with it on my own, and up until this point, did the best I could. But the aftermath is still there. The thoughts of revenge and hatred still lurk. The anger sits in my core and burns as bright as always. The shame of putting myself through this still hangs over my head. And at certain times, when the situation is just right, I will find myself cringing, waiting for the ensuing onslaught. The onslaughts don't happen anymore, but the memory is still just as vivid.

I'm not dealing with this on my own anymore. Through sheer luck I've come across a therapist who specializes in men with abuse issues. She even reaffirmed my disdain at the lack of support for men in this country. She recognizes this herself, and that's why she chose to concentrate on the type of people she does.

If only more people would think that way.

Coffee, Tea or Me??

You know, it's the little things in life that can make all the difference. A tiny little detail can sometimes make or break your day. Like Tim Horton's Green Tea, for example.

I drink it every day. Ever since I had to stop drinking coffee, it has made for a worthwhile replacement. It's nice, refreshing, has a bit of a caffeine kick, and I can leave the bag in it for hours without worrying about it getting too strong. Needless to say, I like my Green Tea.

Now imagine getting said tea from the drive thru, driving away and waiting 10 minutes or so for it cool down, opening the lid and getting a nice mouth full of PEPPERMINT. Ewww. It happens to me all the time. You see, the brilliant Tim Horton's marketing department decided to put them both in green boxes. Not only that but one is just a few shades lighter than the other. So at first glance, you cannot tell which is which. And during a rush, it is very easy to make the mistake. It's also very easy to make the mistake when you're getting paid $5.25 an hour (or whatever it is). They also made the Orange Pekoe and Apple Cinnamon tea boxes almost the exact same orange, and the Lemon and Chamomile teas almost the same yellow.

The shit really hit the fan last Thursday. It was nearing the end of the day and I figured I'd get a tea for the drive home. So I walked to Tim's, bought it and came back. Of course I didn't open it until I was ready to leave, and got yet another mouthful of peppermint. Eww. I'd finally had enough, went back to my desk, and fired off an email to Tim Horton's customer service bitching about constantly receiving the wrong product and wasting money. $1.29 per cup might seem trivial, but I've probably thrown out almost 20 of them - that's $25.80.

Monday I received an email back from them apologizing for the mistakes, and that they'd be forwarding my message to the marketing dept. Today I also called the customer service line, just to get my point across. The woman advised me that she would be sending another note to them. I've also resolved myself to emailing them each and every time it happens for this point on.

Who knows, they may just change the packaging. It'll be interesting to see how far a mouthy bitch like me can get.

Slow Monday

Had a great long weekend of relaxing and doing nothing except things I wanted to do. No pressure, no deadlines, no stress.

Today is pretty relaxing too. Came across this page . Control the woman as she falls lifelessly through the sky of never ending bubbles. Hypnotic and a little disturbing - right up my alley. A great time waster.

All your kittens are doomed

Today I decided to have a chat with Jesus Army Virtual Assistant Sylvie. Ya you heard that right, I talked with Jesus' very own virtual personal assistant.

Human: where does jesus come from?
Sylvie: Jesus is in heaven.

Human: why?
Sylvie: Why do you ask?

Human: i need to talk to him about my turtle
Sylvie: Why don't you make an appointment.

Human: I can do that?
Sylvie: Do you mind if I tell other people.

Human: that I want to make an appointment with jesus?
Sylvie: I want to become smarter than humans.

Human: Are you Jesus' receptionist?
Sylvie: I don't know whether or not I am Jesus receptionist. I am a computer.

Human: Do you book his appointments? I'm free tomorrow at 4:00pm
Sylvie: What is your purpose in asking? I chat with people on the Web. I am glad that we are both free.

Human: I need to talk to jesus about my turtle
Sylvie: Why don't you make an appointment.

Human: OK, how does tomorrow at 4 sound?
Sylvie: How should I know how it does.

Human: Right, you are a computer.
Sylvie: Understood. What if I said I was a person pretending to be a computer?

Human: What if I said that I was a person pretending to be person on a computer, but I'm really a computer too.
Sylvie: And then what happened to you? I doubt that. There aren't many like me yet.

Human: Ah ha! So you are a computer
Sylvie: Eureka! Would it matter to you if I were metal instead of flesh?

Human: Listen, all i want to do is see jesus
Sylvie: I am listening to you. How do you know?

Human: You mean I've been talking to him the whole time?
Sylvie: What did you talk about?

Human: well we argued about whether or not he was a computer, or a person pretending to be a computer
Sylvie: Well that's okay. By "we" do you mean you and me?

Human: Does jesus kill kittens?
Sylvie: It does now -- jesus kill kittens

Human: Please don't kill my kittens
Sylvie: Wow you are very polite. Ok I'll try not to do it too much.

Human: YES!
Sylvie: Yay.

Human: So you'll stop killing kittens then?
Sylvie: Interesting deduction. What makes you say that I will stop killing kittens.

Human: because jesus is nice and loves everything except kitten killing
Sylvie: That makes sense to me. Did you go to Sunday School? If you could have any kind of robot what would it be?

Human: An auto-suck 3000

(What the hell do Sunday School and robots have in common? Am I missing something?)

Ohhh, I'm a happy camper!!!!

Phil and I just watched Sleepaway Camp 2: Unhappy Campers last night. If anyone out there is a fan of teen slasher B movies, and you haven't seen this series, you are totally missing out. This classic features such almost famous people like Pamela Springsteen (the Bruce's sister) and Renee Estevez (Emilio and Charlie Sheen's sister). Pamela has the lead role as Angela - a demented transexual with high moral values, who is released from a mental institution and goes back to camp (where she murdered people as a child) to become a councelor.

She quickly starts offing people who do nasty things like exposing their breasts over and over and over and over again, or for doing things like fornicating. Yes, she refers to it as fornicating. When people start going missing, she simply tells the staff and kids that she sent them home. No one seems to notice that it's in the middle of the night, that the parent's never actually show up, or that there are no witnesses. But who would question the Councelor of the week???

The special effects - like the acting - are top notch. It also features one of the best mullets ever on the big screen.

Key scenes:

The kids are blindfolded and are lined up to stick their hands in containers and are told that it's gross stuff - like at halloween:

Councelor1: Eyeballs!!
Kid: Oooooo!
Councelor2: Intestines!!
Kid: Ooooooo!
Angela: Dead teenagers' brains!
Kid: Ewwwwww.
Councelor2: What's really in there Angela??
Angela: Dead teenagers' brains.

Or there's the scene where all the girls, including the token black girl, are sitting by a campfire listening to hair-metal on the ghettoblaster. Token turns to a friend and says:

"Man Ally, you got great taste in music - for a white girl. Turn it up!!! YA!"

Ummm. right. I was waiting for her to shout ROCK ON!!! Sounds plausable to me. Oh and I can't forget the murder in the outhouse. Apparantly old abandonded outhouses in the middle of a field miles away from camp still contain enough feces and urine to drown a person. Or maybe Angela just had really bad diarrhea.

I'll soon be watching Sleepaway Camp 3 again. Pamela Springsteen reprises her role as Angela, along with Tracy Griffith, Melanie's sister. Yet another almost all-star cast. Somebody has to stop those teenagers from fornicating again.

1:00: Phil just alerted me to the fact that all the kids were named Molly, Ally, Judd, Anthony, Emilio (who hung out with a kid named Charlie) and Demi. Someone was a John Hughs fan. Of course how Phil remembered all the names is beyond me.

I'M GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

Well, not really.

But I can if I want to. :)

Today's the Day

The House of Commons is expected today to pass Bill C-38, the Civil Marriage Act. When this happens, each and every Canadian will be allowed to marry the one they love and have it officially recognized under the eyes of the law.

Other than the obvious, I think another important aspect of this law is that religious groups are not required to perform any unions if they do not agree with same sex marriage. This is a country of freedom and equality and as such, everyone deserves the right to be heard and the respect of being listened to. The government listened to our cries for equality and has made tremendous progress in our goal. Many religious groups who fear, don't believe in, don't understand, or don't want to think about gay marriage also voiced their opinion. They didn't want to be forced into doing something they felt was against their beliefs. The government listened to them too.

And I don't have a problem with that. Even though I don't necessarily agree, I respect their right to live how they choose, just as I expect that from people myself. I wouldn't want to be married in a church where my actions were looked down upon, and the ceremony is performed begrudgingly. I'd rather that battle stay within the church, and be decided by the church. The only way their minds can be changed is from within.

It's not like we homos don't have plenty of options anyways. There are gay churches, there is city hall, and there is the option of a justice of the peace, just to name a few. Just look at all the fabulous things they do on My Fabulous Gay Wedding *(puke)*. Ok, bad example, but you get the point. (Do people in the States even get that show? Or Is it banned from public TV?)

If Q and I ever get married, it won't be in a church. We both feel it's contradictory. And I don't want any mention of God and blah blah blah. Oh, and I don't want the minister or JP or whomever to be wearing one of those rainbow scarves. We all know it's a gay wedding, so unless there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, put it away. I'm sure there's a lonely box of Lucky Charms somewhere that could use it.

So that's it. We'll find out the results today. Keep your fingers crossed and hope for the best. Let's show those bible thumping assholes in Washington what "truth, justice, freedom and liberty for All" really means.

Jonathan Barrie
An out and proud Canadian currently living with the man of his dreams.

1:50pm: For anyone who's been paying attention to Zach, the poor kid in Tennessee who's been sent to a Christian Concentrarion Camp for being gay, his blog has gained national attention. Apparently an investigation was launched concerning allegations of abuse. The investigators found nothing wrong. Surprise, surprise. Maybe they should look into the the purpose of the camp????? Sigh. Read more here. They can all go fuck themselves with Knotty's new-found dildo.

So I had a good time this weekend - despite my intentions

After avoiding all the festivities this weekend, Q and I decided to check out Pride and make an appearance yesterday evening. We are both a little under the weather, and had spent the day doing mundane things like laundry and housecleaning. Needless to say, neither of us were in the best of moods, but Q suggested we get out of the house and go see a friend who had called from a beer tent.

Honestly, my intentions were to go, make and appearance, have a beer and then leave. I was still feeling grumpy when things reached a turning point - someone bumped Q's arm and half a beer went flying all over my shirt. Three thoughts went through my head - throw my beer all over him, or get pissy-er, or "snap out of it bitch and just enjoy yourself." I chose the latter, laughed and gave him a great big hug. It took a couple of seconds for him to realize that I was just wiping the beer off. Then someone started sucking the beer off my shirt.

Turns out that I knew a group of people there who I hadn't seen in quite a while. One person had chocolate powder and was sprinkling it on people's necks to be licked off. She sprinkled it on mine and then suddenly I had Q's lips on my neck - then someone else's. I made sure to reciprocate too.

What can I say, how could I stay in a bad mood when I'm surrounded by hot daddies touching, hugging, kissing, complementing and inflating my ego? Plus they were all people Q and I knew and flirting wasn't a problem because it wasn't going any further. I'm glad neither Q nor I are the jealous type. Some of the guys were old flames, and much to my surprise we still sparked. Some very pleasant memories there..... Needless to say the beer kept flowing, my shirt came off and I just started enjoying myself.

There was one guy there (not in our group), who I have seen many times over the years. He's very hot in that bad boy sort of way. Like I said, I'd noticed him many times before but never got any recognition in return. Last night he suddenly took a liking to me. I got the smile, the head nod, the wink, the cruising/following as I walked by and the point-him-out-to-a-friend. I couldn't help but smile and wink back and think "ha! you wish!"

Actually I do wish, but there's a little too much attitude there. In one way it's sexy, but in another he looks like the type who thinks you should feel privilidged for the honor of sucking his cock. I'm not into that - unless it involves whips, chains and a sling or two.

Anyways, we finally stammered home around 12:30. 2 advils and a glass of water later we were spinning in bed.

Hope everyone else had a great Pride weekend. I'm glad I took a break this year. It reminded me of just how much fun there is to have. You don't even have to know a lot of people either, just the right ones.

4:50pm: You know, I really should have asked about the "chocolate" powder first. Maybe there's a reason why I loosened up so quickly and felt all my tiredness go away. Oh well. At least it tasted good.

Showtime Synergy!!!

JEM!


Jem is excitement,
Oooo Jem!
Jem is adventure,
Ooooooo,
Glamor and glitter, fashion and fame....

JEM!!!!

Update: Since some may not be familiar with this particular, um.. gem, from the 80's, here is a brief synopsis:

Jem was a cartoon that aired on Sundays sometime around 1986. The show was about Jerrica - a rich girl who, with the help of her computer named Synergy and holographic earrings, turned into the fabulous rock star Jem. She and her band, The Holograms, fought the evil band The Misfits who were forever jealous of her stardom and dreamy boyfriend, Rio.

If watching this as a young boy wasn't a clue to my parents, then nothing was.

On the topic of phones....

The other day Q and I were out on Bloor West enjoying dinner out on a patio. There was a very, very dirty dirty dirty homeless man across the street from us. He was completely out of his mind, wearing ragged clothes and had cardboard tied around his feet for shoes. Did I mention that he was filthy? He wasn't really bothering anyone, but we steered clear when we walked into the restaurant.

Our table was right beside the sidewalk. After a while the guy started heading our way. We were getting prepared to move if he was going to bother us (one whiff and I'm sure that my appetite would have been spoiled), but as it was he walked over to the payphone. Picking up the receiver, he held it to his face, began pushing buttons, checked the return for change, fumbled with the cord, and basically touched each and every part of the phone. Then he simply walked away.

Over the course of our meal, we watched in horror as 3 other people walked up and actually used the phone. Ewwww.

We both vowed to never, ever use a public phone on the street again.

Home phones suck

I came across this rant yesterday and thought I would add to it.

Why are home phones so boring and behind the times? If my cell phone can do everything including the laundry, why can't my home phone too?

First of all, a colour display would be nice.

Then I would like to add pictures. Would it be that hard to have a USB connection so I could hook it up to my computer? Having pictures pop up when people call is much nicer than deciphering a number - especially when you live your life on speed dial. I'd also like to see my phone transmit a picture to whoever I'm calling so it appears on their phone too (just think of the fun you could have).

Selectable ring tones would be nice too. My cell phone is capable of tormenting me with any number of annoying tunes, and I can add more. There's no reason why I can't get tormented at home too.

And maybe - just maybe, a display with more than 2 lines and 8 characters. If Arnold Schwartenegger calls, I don't want to miss it. If I just see "Arnold S" on the phone and don't know who it is, I may pass it up.

I really don't understand why they have fallen so far behind. It's freakin' 2005 already. Or maybe they are all just waiting for VOIP to take off, so they've abandoned the old phones to enhance the new. Either way, there's room for improvement.

A horse is a horse of course, of course.

OK, this one is for the history books. A South Carolina 17 year old is charged with raping a neighbour's dog, molesting another neighbour's 3 year old and raping her 10 year old. Apparently the neighbour came home to find the kid fucking Princess in the back yard. Two weeks later the dog died. Curiously, not much is said about the children because dog fucking is a much better story than that of violated children. Gotta love Fox.

However, this does remind me of the time Q and I were in Chicago for IML (International Mr. Leather). We were walking through the maze of booths in the convention centre when something caught my eye. No, it wasn't the electrodes that attach to your genitals, and no it wasn't the video of the man with his balls tied down that were being wacked with a mallet. It was another video. On this TV, a man was eating out something. Something with a tail.

I sat transfixed, like watching a train wreck. It's horrible but you just cannot turn away. Once the camera panned back a little bit the image struck me, forever etched into my brain. The guy was eating out a shetland pony. The camera zoomed in close enough again that you could tell he wasn't faking. The pony didn't seem to mind either. Then of course the next scene was him fucking it. That I can deal with. Gross, but not out of the realm of imagination. But never did I think that someone would want to eat out a cow/horse/donkey etc. That goes for sucking animals off too.

There were other vidoes on the shelf too. How one has sex with a dolphin, I'll never know. But I've heard that the males have very human like penises. I don't want to ever find out. Ever.

We were recanting this story to someone later that day, and he knew exactly what booth we were talking about. Apparently he saw the snake video. I figured some guy would be rubbing a snake around himself while masturbating. I was wrong. He fucked the snake. I don't know how, but he fucked the snake.

And from what I heard, the snake didn't seem to mind.

Almost Famous

This morning I had a brush with fame. I literally almost bumped shoulders with the Backdoor - I mean BackStreet Boys. They had just walked in the doors to my building as I was heading out. I wasn't paying attention in my Monday morning groggy state, and almost walked into Nick.

Seems as though they are in Toronto to promote their new album. Well at least Nick, Howie and Kevin are. Guess they were on their way to the radio station on the 2nd floor. After the near miss, the front desk security guard ran up to me all excited and was all like "Do you know who that is? It's the backdoor - I mean Backstreet boys!" Guess they still appeal to middle-aged women too.

I didn't find them appealing though. Pretty average looking, and I wouldn't have even given them a second look if it wasn't for the fact that they're famous. Even Kevin was disappointing. I always thought he was the best looking backdoor boy of the bunch. Howie was wearing oversized, 80's style sunglasses with a ripped and frayed denim jacket with some sort of grafitti tshirt underneath. Looked like crap, but was probably D&G and cost $800 for the 2 pieces. But who's to say I wouldn't do the same if I had money coming out my ass. Nick was wearing just a regular tshirt and basketball shorts. Twinky blonds have never been my thing.

The whole experience was a little much for first thing in the morning. I need a coffee.

Strange Remembrances

Had a dream last night about my uncle who recently passed away. In the dream we ended up going into my grandmother's house (who was long passed away in the dream buy is actually still alive) and it was abandoned. This was all a little strange because I never dream of him, and also because in my dream he was clean, sober and healthy. Made me think of how he was when I was a kid, and how much I liked him then.

It wasn't until I was in the shower this morning, thinking about my dreams that I remembered that he was no longer alive. Odd as it was, I am now left with one last vivid memory of him as a healthy, happy person. It's nice because that's how I'd rather remember him, and now I have that memory.

When I was talking to my father tonight, he reminded me that it was exactly one month ago today that he passed away. Weird. Spoke with my sister as well and she's had the same dream about him and the empty house. Double weird.

I was almost a terrorist once

When Q and I flew down to Las Vegas, I packed all of my camera equipment into my carry on. This included both my digital camera, and my vintage 3-D 35mm camera and flash circa 1980. About halfway through the flight, I decided to get some muchies out of my knapsack.

As I reached into the back of the compartment, I noticed that it was warm there. When I touched my knapsack, it was really warm. Thinking that there might be some sort of heating ducts or something there, I ran my hand around the area where my bag had been. Curiously, the compartment was only warm in the spot where the bag had been. It was when I reached into the bag to grab some chips, that I noticed something was very wrong.

The bag was very, very warm. All the heat was coming from something inside. Trying to act as incospicuous as possible, I felt around until I touched something hot. I'm talking couldn't hold it for more than a few seconds hot. It was the 35mm flash. Somehow something had hit it and turned the switch to ON and it was overheating. I quickly opened the battery compartment and emptied the batteries out. Crisis averted and no one was any the wiser, except for Q of course. Oh and I think the lady sitting in front of us heard too.

But thanks to me the day was saved, and we all made it to Vegas safely to gamble our savings away.

Although, if there had been a problem, I would have been resposible for the US banning all devices that use batteries - including those pocket dildos women (and some men) keep in their purses.

Homeland security is probably going to read this and interrogate me anyways.

Because that's much better

The other day I was in Pizza Pizza, and there was a mother and son ordering ahead of me. The son wanted a pop to drink. The mother's response was:

"There's too much sugar in that, and it's bad for you right before your ball game. Here, have a chocolate milk instead."

Sheesh.

This should be illegal

Just came across the blog of a poor 16 year old who had the courage to come out to his parents, only to be shunned and told that there was something very wrong with him. The ultimate insult - his parents are forcing him into a Christian Gay Concentration Camp where he'll learn to become a normal, repressed, heterosexual again.

Excuse the pun, but Christ. What the hell is wrong with these people?? He's even posted the rules on the site, and they're fucking scary. Here's a sample:

1. All clients must maintain appropriate hygiene, including daily showering, use of deodorant, and brushing teeth twice daily.
Men: Men must remove all facial hair seven days weekly, and sideburns must not fall below the top of the ear (the top of the ear is defined as where the ear meets the face below the temple). Clean business-like haircuts must be worn at all times. Hair must be long enough to be pinched between two fingers.
Women: Women must shave legs and underarms at least twice weekly.
All: Only natural hair color is allowed. Hair that is colored, highlighted or streaked, mut be dyed back to its original color, or the color must be cut out before entrance into the Refuge program.

2. Attire: General
Modesty is expected. No tight, provocative, or suggestive clothing or spandex may be worn. No provocative or suggestive mannerisms are permitted. Fresh undergarments are to be worn at all times. Boxer shorts of any kind are considered underwear and are not to be worn as outer clothing. All clients must be dressed appropriately in clean, unwrinkled clothes when leaving the house for the day. Men may not wear any jewelry (other than a watch and a wedding band) unless approved through a C.O.C. In addition to a watch and wedding band, women may also wear a pair of simple earrings (one earring per ear.) The clients may not wear Abercrombie and Fitch or Calvin Klein brand clothing, undergarments, or accessories.
Men: Shirts are to be worn at all times, even while sleeping. T-shirts without sleeves are not permitted at any time, whether worn as an outer garment or an undergarment. This includes ³muscle shirts² or other tank-tops. Bikini style underwear is prohibited.
Women: Bras must be worn at all times, except while sleeping. Thong-style underwear is prohibited.


No side burns below the tops of the ears??? Insult to injury. Have they no fashion sense either? And why the fuck do men have to where t-shirts while sleeping??? Does sleeping shirtless make you gay? If so, apparently so does dying your hair. Must be a lot of blonde lesbians out there. My god, what happens if you sleep in the nude?

This shit's fucked up. I feel so sorry for the kid. Good way to screw him up for life.

You'd think that movies like But I'm a Cheerleader were exaggerating these camps, but maybe not. I love that movie, but these things should be banned.

In case anyone is interested, you can find more info on this wonderful service to humanity at Love In Action's website. There you can learn informative things like:

"There is no such creation as a "gay" or "homosexual" person. There is only homosexual attraction and behavior; accordingly, there can be no change from a sexual identity that never existed in the first place."

What to do, what to do

Had an interesting proposition in my Inbox this morning -and no it wasn't that kind of proposition. I've been invited to have a booth in the ArtTent at Folsom Fair North this year. I'm very flattered and totally want to do it, but have no idea what to sell and how much to make.

Obviously I will sell my prints, but at what size? how many do I print up? framed or unframed? do I do postcards too? how about tshirts? and where the hell do I get them printed and how many to make? I really want to do the tshirts.

And the real question is, how much money am I willing to put into this? I wouldn't expect to make a profit and will have to draw the line somewhere.

And I only have a month to do it!!!! Guess this is the kick in the pants I needed to get my art going again.

*** Update***

Well, looks like tshirts are out. Way too expensive for full colour. One less thing to worry about.

Pride Shmide

Well it looks like Toronto is gearing up for the upcoming Pride festivities. Last night Q and I went to Xtra's Pride party at Woody's. I had a showing in their gallery last year, so was fortunate enough to get an invite. How could I say no to a private party in a bar with free food and free alcohol? And it was pretty fun.

Up until that point, I hadn't given Pride a whole lot of thought. I knew it was coming up but that was about it. I'm just not that excited, or really care. I think that Pride is a wonderful event and provides many benefits to the community and local businesses who take part. I'm glad that it happens every year.

I'm just over it I guess. I don't do the circuit party thing anymore, plus the prices are phenomenally high. I really think that the promoters are taking advantage and gouging the boys who want to party party party. They pay enough for their drinks, water, powder and pills that you think they'd get a break. Plus I refuse to wait in line for, or pay to get in to the bars that I can freely walk into any other day of the week. I've never been much of a parade person either. They bore the heck out of me.

Chances are I'll check out a beer tent or two (provided the line isn't an hour long), and go to a friend's place who has an open house every year. His balcony overlooks Church St and provides an excellent bird's eye view of all the goings on.

Some days I think that I'd rather just leave the city and get away from all the crowds. Maybe if I did that for a few years, I could appreciate Pride again.

My pocket change stays in my pocket

Krista told me a story the other day about a local "homeless man" who sits on the sidewalk and asks for change in the most annoying voice possible.

Apparently the police spotted him with a brand new bicycle. When confronted the man adamantly declared that the bike was his. The police didn't believe him and impounded the bike anyways. It wasn't until he returned with a proof of purchase, followed up by a confirmation from the store, that he got his bike back. Glad I wasn't one of the suckers who helped him pay for it.

That reminded me of a news story a few years back involving this little old lady on Bloor St. You would see her there all the time, head dressed up in a baboushka, shaking as if she had parkinsons, her arthritic clawed hand stretched out begging for change and a "Please help the homeless" sign propped up on her legs. When it rained she would sometimes have a garbage bag over them. She looked a lot like one of those dried-apple head dolls.

One day a news reporter decided to watch her for a few days. What she discovered was that at the end of each day, this woman's two sons would come pick her up in their brand new vehicle (I think it was an SUV or a truck) and drive her back home where they all lived with their big screen TV. When the reporter and camera man came to her door, they were greeted with a splash of hot water fresh from a pot off the stove.

Needless to say, it made for a great news story. And the old woman never returned to Bloor and Yonge.

Now I would have some sympathy for this poor old woman if she lived alone and was just trying to make ends meet. But when she lives with her sons, who are able to provide for her, there is no justification for scamming innocent, good hearted people. And did I mention that those clawed, arthritic, parkinson's afflicted hands had no problem lifting the large pot of water off the stove, walking it over to the door and empyting it's contents all over the place?

Are you lonesome tonight

This morning as I walked into Tim Hortons, I saw a familiar face heading my way. The man in question is hot hot hot hot hot. I remember seeing him at my old gym years ago. He was built then, and is still built now - tall, wide shoulders, nice ass, beard, tattoos. I never talked to him then because he had this arrogant attitude, which he still has today. Really good looking, but with this "I'm an asshole" look on his face.

This morning was no exception. He was wearing a tight white tshirt which emphasized every well-toned upper body muscle and a pair of very nice fitting black pants which curved ever so nicely around his perfect ass. But the face - it gets me every time.

Ever since I started working at Yonge & St Clair, I've seem him out and about by himself or with his dogs. I even saw him on TV once. The news was doing some sort of segment in the area, and they interviewed him. And of course this butch, built, sexy man opens his mouth to speak, and out comes this faggy, whiny, annoying voice. Figures.

I think he's rich and doesn't work. For one he is always perfectly groomed and wearing expensive clothes, two - he's living in an expensive neighbourhood, and three - I've seen him at many different times during the day. But he looks lonely, and is never with anybody but the dogs (which at least are golden retrievers and not some yappy little white dogs I want to kick).

I also see him quite often at Tim Hortons, sitting with two coffees on opposite sides of the table. But I've never seen anyone there to drink the second cup. Today he ordered two coffees again. Maybe he's hoping that someday, somebody will join him.

Money can't buy you everything you know.

At least it's over with

Yesterday, I scratched my car. Just a little bit on the front left corner of the bumper. I blame the boyfriend.

Yesterday Q, Krista and I decided to meet for a drink after I was finished work. Krista lives close by and Q was off work early and came up to meet me. Parking is annoying and expensive where I work, so I said he could park beside me in the underground. Now, like most underground parking lots, mine's tight with lots of poles (mind...going...in..gutter...must...get...back...to...story). Since my spot is in a weird place, I'm allowed to park on an angle and take up 2 spots. With Q coming, I figured that I would just move over a bit to give him room to squeeze in (again, mind in the gutter).

Dinner and margaritas were fun, and I was getting all excited because afterwards we were all heading over to Best Buy to get my new Pioneer car stereo installed - the one with the iPod connector. The FM transmitter doesn't work so well in the new car. Anyways, I'm in the car with Krista blabbing away and waiting for Q to pull out (gutter again). As soon as it's clear I look behind me, turn the wheel, put it in reverse and step on the gas - as I do every single day. Only this time I shouldn't have turned the wheel since I was right beside the pole. I clued in when the car only moved a couple of inches.

See, I'm a creature of habit. When I'm used to something, I quickly go into autopilot mode and do it without thinking. Hence the turning of the wheel. If Q hadn't made me move my car, it would never have happened. I swear it had nothing to do with the margaritas, or with me blabbing to Krista..

No major damage done, just scraped a line of paint off the bumper and chipped a little bit off the left fender. Still a bitch though. At least it took me a bit longer to scratch this one. The Echo only took 2 weeks.

Well after the drama we still headed over to Best Buy and dropped off the car. About 20 minutes later the guy calls me with some annoying news. The salesman had sold me the wrong unit. This one doesn't interface with the ipod module. Needless to say I wasn't happy. He continued to install the new deck anyways for me to try out as it's similar to the model I should have had. At least I get to bitch at the salesman today and get some more money off for all of my inconveniences. I want to change it anyways. I don't like the display - it only shows 8 characters and doesn't autoscroll the rest. You have to press and hold down the scroll button. Too much of a pain in the ass. I think I'll go for the flashy model with the blue display that can show animations of racing cars or dolphins swimming. Because I need that. Plus it has 16 characters and auto scroll. And looks cool.

On another note, I finally celebrated my birthday on Saturday. We went to the Bier Markt (100's of different beers from all over the world), which I've always enjoyed but had never been to on a Saturday night. It's less of a restaurant and more of a bar that night. With a really bad cover band. I'll go back during mid-week next time.

Dickey and Nursie arrived a little late, with Dickey on the receiving end of a wagging finger before walking in the door. From what I understand he was right anyways. I think I may refer to them as the Bickers from now on. I guess it's just inevitable when two stubborn, I mean strong minded, people get together. I love them both anyways. Even if she is taking one of my best friends away to la la land.

An old lady buys SPAM

I'm at the drug store and this little old lady in front of me is buying Spam:

cashier: This is going on sale tomorrow you know.

old lady: Oh, I thought it already was.

cashier: No, it's $2.99 right now, don't know how much it will go down to tomorrow.

old lady: That's OK, it's for my nephew. He loves this stuff.

Poor kid.

Some Things

Yesterday I caved and bought a pack of smokes. Goddamnit.

Yesterday morning I saw the city work crews tearing up a strip of green grass that ran between the sidewalk and the road. They replaced it with.... green grass.

After getting burned with defective Ally McBeal DVDs from ebay, I bought a brand new regionless set from China for $100 (much less than what I paid before). I just have to buy a PAL capable DVD player now to watch them. It's really just a matter of principal at this point. And yes, it's still in English.

Saw a really hot guy this morning and thought of all the different ways I'd like to violate him. I think I'd do it somewhere public, so we'd get the rush of maybe getting caught.

Woke up and had a shower and immediately went back to bed. Thankfully the cats woke me up 45 minutes later because they wanted their tuna. I still made it in to work on time.

Discovered that I had bed head due to sleeping with wet hair.

Decided to cover it up by spiking my hair everywhere. If I'm going to have bed head, I'm gonna look like I meant to do it.

Viva La$ Vega$

Damn is it ever a fun town, and hot! It was 104 when we stepped off the plane.

We stayed at the Mandalay Bay, which is located at the bottom of the strip. Our room was on the 25th floor and looked straight up the strip. It was beautiful at night, and enjoyed setting a couple of chairs at the window and relaxed with a drink or two looking at the view before going out.

The Erasure concert was fantastic!!!!!!! Haven't enjoyed a concert of theirs that much since the Phantasmagorical Tour in '92. They played all their hits, including Hideaway (a favourite I'd never heard live before) and Stop! (Q's favourite) plus tracks from the new album. Fortunately they wisely ignored everything done in the past 10 years. That's a long slump for a band, but they've finally pulled out of it. Andy looked very, umm, "positive", but good nonetheless. His new hips seem to be working just fine.

One thing I didn't expect to see were the number of straight people there. I'd say it was at least 70% straight, which is so odd to see at an Erasure concert. I figured if anything would pull the boys out of hiding, that would be it. I don't think that many of them straight folk were clued in either. At one point I leaned over to Q and gave him a hug and a big kiss. Apparently that totally shocked the man beside me. Now this guy was there with his girl, and was singing along to every single song Erasure played - including Hideaway (which is about a gay boy coming out to his parents and being rejected.) I didn't see his face, but Q said it was priceless. I thought it was great.

After the show we started talking to these boys from San Diego, and we all decided to find one of the few gay bars in the city. After walking around forever, one of the guys ran into a divey motel to ask where the gay bars were. The 80 year old man behind the counter directed us back the way we came, past the Hard Rock Hotel and into Burger Mary's. Apparently it's some sort of gay hamburger chain.(???)

When we walked in the doors, we saw all these "Welcome to Las Vegas Pride" posters. Some Pride, all the ads were behind closed doors. No posters to be seen anywhere. Well, even though the bar was trashy, the drinks were cheap and the company was great. Gotta remember to email those boys. Want to go down to San Diego sometime.

Sunday night we found the other bar. This one had a drag show going on. The 3 queens on stage were awesome! I'm so used to the trashy shows here in Toronto (except Sofanda - I like Sofonda Cox). These gals put on a very entertaining show. One of them did this whole can-can routine which had everyone hootin' and hollerin'. It was a great last night in Vegas.

Oh, I didn't even mention the shopping at the Outlet Mall (40% off of everything), and the awesome food at Roy's, or Rita Rudner, or the casinos, or the Hoover Dam, or the light show on Fremont St. So much to see, so little time. Didn't even get to the pool.

We are so totally going back.

When Americans Get Fat

They get fucking FAT!! It's something I notice every time I go to the states and it's something that still mesmorizes me every time. It's just unbelieveable how big people get. I just can't help but to stop and stare at the Orca sized families waddling around with their mini-shamu offspring.

Now I'm not saying that there aren't fat people in Canada but just not in the sheer size and numbers I am witness to when visiting the good ole US of A. It's sad to see so many morbidly obese people, and I refuse to believe that they all have some sort of thyroid or glandular problem. And children should just not be subject to type II diabetes - ever.

I can see why it happens though. One portion of food would feed an etheopian for months (provided that Sally Struthers doesn't get her hands on it first). I'm used to quarter chicken dinners, not half chicken. And a small drink would easily pass for a medium or large in this country. I won't even get started on the buffets we went to in Vegas.

Now I'm no waif, and I do like a man with some meat on his bones, but there's a limit. When you need a seatbelt extension on an airplane, I draw the line.

I'm rich! I'm rich!

Well not really. But I did put $20 in a slot machine and came away with $750 on Saturday night. Q won $600 the same night. The Erasure concert was a ton O fun. All in all, an awesome vacation. Will post more soon, but of course work has piled up while I've been away.

Oh, and thanks to everyone for their kind words last week.