Whew!

Thank God for quizzes.

You Are Probably Not Pregnant

It seems like you're in the clear, but you should really take a test to be sure.

Are You Pregnant?

My first Mulberry Bag!

This quiz is for Chris

Awwwww.

He's a Great Boyfriend

You guy definitely loves you and knows how to treat you right. You have a five star boyfriend - so make sure you treat him right too!

Is He a Good Boyfriend?

Team Angelina

I can't stop doing these quizzes.

You Are More Like Angelina Jolie

Bad girl with a heart of gold. You are smart, sexy, and strong willed. You aren't against stealing another girl's man... If he's better off with you!

Are You More Like Jennifer or Angelina?

It's a sign!

You Belong in London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern. A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock. A unique woman like you needs a city that offers everything. No wonder you and London will get along so well.

What City Do You Belong In?

Chris! This is what I want for Christmas!

It's hip to be racist against the Chinese

How did this racist bull shit,

1. Make it to the production lines of Alessi.
2. Make it to the pages of Toronto Life.

I’ll be writing a letter to both and I encourage any one else who thinks this shit is just plain racist, please do so as well.

I guess Rosie O’Donnell has made racism toward Chinese people hip again.

Alessi
BETH DICKSTEIN ENTERPRISES
611 Broadway, Penthouse 907J, USA
Tel. 212 353 1383
Fax 212 353 2005
doug@bdeonline.biz

Toronto Life
To submit a letter for publication in response to a Toronto Life article, please send an e-mail to letters@torontolife.com.
Alternatively, fax your letter to 416-861-1169 or mail it to 111 Queen Street East, Suite 320, Toronto, Ontario M5C 1S2.
Letters must include the writer's full name, postal address, and daytime telephone number.

My Wish List

Every year I get asked, “What do you want for Christmas?” Every year I have the same answer, “Nothing.” For the past few years, people have been giving me gift certificates and I have yet to use about 70% of them. I even got this $100 gift certificate for the Future Shop from work and I gave it away to Chris. There is absolutely nothing that I have wanted to buy since I got back from Italy. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero.

Until now.

I’ve become fairly obsessed with two people over the past few years — Ina Garten and Nigella Lawson. Both are domestic goddesses — Nigella in a more rustic way and Ina in a more polished, East-Hampton way. Both are hotties — Nigella in a more old-school screen siren way and Ina in a more Leave It Beaver, matronly fashion.

For Christmas this year, I wouldn’t mind a cookbook from the fine collection of either one of these ladies. That’s it. That’s all I could think of. So if I exchange gifts with you on a yearly basis over the holidays, this is all I got for you to go on.


(Unless your name happens to rhyme with "miss" and you sleep in the same bed as me a few times a week. For people that fit this profile, only the Cartier Love Bracelet will do.)

Sicky McSickerson

It’s friggin cold outside and I have a cold. Boo hoo for me. I haven’t left my house in about 48 hours and I don’t plan to for at least another 24.

Top 5 things that I crave when I am sick:

1. My mommy. Doesn’t matter if your 5 or 50, moms are the best cure for the common cold. Mine’s in Laos right now. :(
2. McChicken sandwiches. I remember being really little and really sick and when I was able to eat solid foods again, my parents brought me a McChicken sandwich. It was one of the very few times that we were allowed to have McDonald’s. Every time I’m sick I want a McChicken sandwich. Damn you McDonald’s.
3. Neo Citran. I love me some Neo Citran. I love it almost as much as I love Gravol when I’m flying. Nothing beats being knocked out cold by over-the-counter drugs.
4. Sleeping! For someone who has spent most of her life in a state of sleep deprivation, allowing myself the luxury of 10-12 hours of sleep per day is the best thing ever.
5. Sympathy. I am big old baby when I’m sick and I absolutely love being babied by anyone who will take the time to do it.

Cubed Celebs

I <3 Cava

As per usual, it’s been a rough few weeks, so Denise and I decided that we’d treat ourselves to a nice meal at Cava this past Wednesday. For the food nerds out there, Cava is the newest venture from former Avalon chef, Chris McDonald.

To set the scene a bit, Cava is billed as a “casual tapas place.” Nevertheless when I made the reservation on OpenTable.com, the dress code said “business casual.” I suppose tapas tastes better when one is adorned in sensible separates from Banana Republic.

Denise and I haul our assess to Yonge and St. Clair (a hop, skip and an annoying bus ride through the never-ending St. Clair streetcar lane debacle, away from chez moi.) The dining room was not big and the lighting was only okay. However our waiter was a cutie and he had a sexy Spanish accent.

Denise started off with a nice Cava Cocktail (the girl can’t stay away from bitters) and I had a nice Cava Daiquiri. My drink came with the mix on the side. There was a piece of pineapple in the glass with the booze. Those of you who know me well, know that I like a stiffer drink that most. However this piece of pineapple was so boozy, that I could not finish chewing it. I actually had to spit it out, it was that boozy.

Here is what we had:

PINCHOS OF RAPINI, WHITE BEAN & MANCHEGO
This was essentially good bread, topped with a white bean purée, a piece of rapini and shavings of Manchego (last year’s hip cheese.) This is one of the best things I have ever put in my mouth. I am soooo making this at home.

CHARCUTERIA
A meat platter composed of pâté, salami, chrizo and buffalo bresaola. The pâté and salami melted in your mouth, while the chorizo and the bresaola was a nice shock to the taste buds.

GRILLED OCTOPUS WITH GREEN ONIONS, FINGERLING POTATOES & HAZELNUT ROMESCO
I am normally pretty nervous to order octopus as it is almost always rubbery. Nevertheless, we took the risk. I am so glad we did because it was fanfuckingtastic. You will not taste octopus that is this tender.

WILD MUSHROOM & FRESH CORN TAMAL WITH AN ANCHO CHILE SAUCE
Don’t order this. It was only so-so. The tamale was a bit stiff and the flavours not as bold. Had the other dishes not been so outstanding, this wouldn’t have seemed so mediocre.

FORTY-EIGHT HOUR BEEF CHEEKS
This was the star of the show. I have never had beef cheeks in a non-French restaurant. These were outstanding. Soft, moist and full of good flavour. More beef cheeks!

Accompanying our meal was a nice half litre of sangria. There was so much on the menu that we didn’t order, that practically guaranteed a return visit. Next time I’m going whole hog and ordering the PORKY BEANS WITH CRISPY BRAISED PORK BELLY.

Read a proper review of Cava over here.

Gotta try this!

Which celebs do you look like??? Check it out on MyHeritage.

Apparently I look like an Italian lady.

Bo'Selecta

Avid Merrion is the new Borat Sagdiyev. This guy is awesome.

I never want to use Vaseline again

Tyra done gone insane.

Ben Affleck is grody

Making fun of cerebal palsy and groping a journalist? It's Sunday morning with Ben Affleck.

Some photos from night number one in Montreal

Tonight I got together with my dear friend Ana and she cooked up a feast. Her beau Karim makes a mean apple martini and the night was good fun all around. Here are some shots from tonight.

Ana is a teetotaller, but she sure loves her some booze.

The aftermath of our boozing.

Ana recreates a Picasso

Happy couple number one: Lewis and Cloelle

Happy couple number two: Karim and Ana (I miss Chris!)

My bed at the Hôtel Godin. This is where I am headed right now.

Montreal bound

After much debate, I finally convinced my place of work that despite the fact that it may not be as popular as New York or Paris, it is our duty as a Canadian media outlet to cover both Montreal and Toronto Fashion Weeks. Their response? “You’re absolutely right. So go do it.” Lousy bastards would not shell out for an actual writer.

So to compensate for me essentially having to do it all myself and still do my day to day job, I booked myself into the Hôtel Godin. If I’ve got to bust my ass, I may as well do it in style.

I'm actually fairly excited for Montreal Fashion Week as well. It's really a shame that for the most part, Canadians who can really afford high-end designer clothing would rather spend their money on Louis Vuitton or Armani rather than someone homegrown.

I do realize there are some whack Canadian designers out there, but I've also seen some amazing ones that still don't get a lot of attention. Hopefully I can just force them down the throats of the Canadian public. :)

Now back to the Godin. Check out the heritage staircase. Soooo purdy.

I've been quoted!

I do realize that it is just the York University newspaper, however I have never been quoted before! Click to image to enlarge it.

Harry Potter is all growed up

Out of action

I've been insanely busy at work and have now been maintaining a blog for our TIFF feature. This is where I'll be doing most my blogging for the next few weeks, so check it out: http://sandraandluluattiff.spaces.live.com/

Will be posting regularly once it's all over.

Koreans go on with the show

Call me a sadistic bitch, but I could not stop laughing at this.

And the hate goes on

"I do not know how single mothers have more than one child with no help," she tells [Harper's Bazaar] magazine. "It requires so much of my life, and I don't have to change sheets and clean toilets, you know."

Bitch needs to SHUT UP.

Best Boyfriend Ever

Since I'm going to be in Vancouver for my actual 30th birthday, my darling Chris is planning a little Toronto to-do for moi. He designed the cutest birthday invite and I really need to share it with everyone who reads my blog.

My baby is the best!

If you're not busy this weekend, please come over to Spirits for a little birthday karaoke and overall debauchery.

This makes me hate her guts even more

I sure do hate me some Gwyneth. And just when I thought the hate couldn't burn any brighter, she goes and does this:


I'm sure a rich, white girl from Manhattan's Upper East Side can really truly feel the plight of Africans dying of AIDS. I guess once all the idea is that all the other rich, white princesses of the world will see Gwynnie in this ad and open up their wallets generously.

My sister got engaged!

Will finally bit the bullet and got her the ring she always wanted. He busted his ass, but it's 1.4 carats and he used an photo of her dream ring as his guide. It's custom-made and here it is:



To quote Tuc: "It's pretty bling"

(My dad's only comment to Will when he called him to tell him that he was going to propose: "Are you sure you're ready for this?")

Here is the happy couple:

Remember Towlie?

One of the best South Park periphery characters.

Here he is trying to remember a security code:



And here is trying to see if the kids want to party:

Victoria Beckham should never speak out loud

Now, I am as fascinated with Victoria Beckham as the next person and cannot get enough of her bony ass in trashy tabloid photos. However, what I cannot seem to fathom is despite the fact that she is unabashedly ridiculed for her stupidity as she is praised for her style, if not more, she still has the audacity to tell Jon Stewart that he isn't funny. Does she even know how to spell sarcasm?

Plus we all know that David is too hot for her. She is essentially the Jennifer Aniston of Britain and we're all just waiting for the day that Angelina goes over there to steal David away from her.

OMG. So hot.

Diego Luna rocks the house with his hotness.

Ivana Young Man

It's better to be a babysitter than a nurse.

The above is the tagline for Ivana Trump’s new reality television show, Ivana Young Man.

Hold up.

How did I not hear about this sooner?

First of all. I effing LOVE Ivana. She is stitched up tighter than a corset and so pumped full of collagen that her lips don’t actually move when she speaks. Plus she beat the Donald at his own game and she found a hairstyle in 1989 and stuck with it.

Ivana like me, dates a younger man. While the age difference between me and my toyboy is only five years, Ivana is a whopping 20+ years older than her man Rossano Rubicondi. FYI. Rossano is hot and Italian.

Back to the show. I just happened to flip to the W network and saw Ivana’s face pop by. The essential premise is that six younger guys vie for the attention of an older lady. Said older lady begins with a makeover from Ivana’s gang of gays. The show is two hours long and ends with a winner. It’s like Jerry Hall’s Kept (which I also love), only wrapped up in one episode and set in New York.

From the first episode here are the highlights from the show:

• Ivana shows up at the end of each segment in these outrageous costumes. For example, at the end of the rock climbing segment, she shows up in a chiffon top, patent leather pants and a blonde fall in her hair. Fan-fucking-tastic.
• Ivana’s accent is amazing. Especially when she is telling one of the guys to “get some balls.”
• Almost immediately the guys are topless and climbing a wall and then afterward they are topless and playing basketball.
• Ivana uses her real-life boyfriend Rossano as a spy. He’s super Italian and just as over the top as Ivana.
• All Kathy (the older lady) keeps talking about is how hot the guys are without their shirts on.
• Ivana dismisses Rossano and relieves him of his services by saying “Take the limo and I’ll see you at home.” Go home bitch!
• Kathy doesn't decided on who leaves, Ivana does it. She gets up and says, "I have made my decision." Then she tells the boys whether or not they are "desired" or "not desired." Kathy bursts into tears after her dismissals. Ivana's response? "It was for your own good." Fierce!
• She gives the guys $2500 to spend on a gift for Kathy. How do I get on this show?
  

Between Ivana and Jerry, I suppose that the younger man/older woman situation is definitely going mainstream.

Hot time in the city

So I’ve just had one of the most relaxing weekends I’ve had in eons. It’s weekends like these that really remind me that:

• Taking time out to really unwind is ever so necessary
• Toronto really is a kick-ass place to live

Saturday

I got up and had a two-hour conversation with my good friends Gina and Hilda in London. Then I made myself a fantastic breakfast of toast, poached eggs and bacon. I ate in front of the television while watching my latest obsession, The Hills.

Then I took a nap before going out to get a manicure and pedicure at Jade Nails with my friend Khavita. I got my nails did and they are fierce and painted in a colour called The Thrill of Brazil. Nothing like having cute Vietnamese ladies going at your feet with a cheese grater to get rid of all those nasty calluses.

Chris and I then headed over for some Korean barbecue on Queen where we ate our faces off. Try the ox tongue next time. You won’t regret it. We capped off our date with a stop off at Ben and Jerry’s.


Sunday

I slept in until 10AM and hauled ass to Rol San for some dim sum with my friend Denise. We then wandered into Kensington Market in search of a patio and some booze. As luck would have it, we ran into my friend Andrew and his friend Mike, who joined us in our quest. After being denied twice, (booze before 1PM is hard to find in Kensington) we settled into a patio and ordered up beer and sangria.

After taking our leave of Andrew and Mike, Denise and I wandered around picking up groceries for the week and soaking up the sun. After braving the crowds of Chinatown (in 30 degree plus weather, it’s no small feat) we called it an afternoon.

I’m home now getting ready to put a roast in the oven and I’m completely satisfied with my weekend.

I am sooo looking forward to the rest of the summer!

Je ne regrette rien

So Zidane had his interview on French television...

First of all. Zidane looked effing HOT.

Second of all, I thought he explained himself just fine. It's simple. Some asshole was talking shit about his mother and his sister and he defended them. Who the fuck cares if you're Zidane at the World Cup. You start with the personal attacks and you know it's going to escalate.

Materazzi knew what he was doing when he started talking. He is a dirty player who deserved what he got.

Here is the interview en Francais.

Zidane is a hero, Materazzi is a zero

I was hugely disappointed in the outcome of Sunday’s game and still feel like the best team didn’t win. More disappointing still, was the fact that one of my favourite World Cup heroes ever, Zinédine Zidane, ended his career on a sour note.

From what I can tell, Zidane is basically the Pete Sampras of football. He’s essentially a quiet guy, who blows up on occasion. There is one other head-butting incident from his days at Juventus and his nickname is the Mad Monk. Nevertheless, the Zidane camp is saying that it takes a lot to provoke Zizou.

Apparently FIFA thinks so too as they’re now looking into Marco Materazzi’s involvement in the head-butting incident. While initially denying that he did anything to provoke such a reaction from Zidane, here is what Materazzi had to say when he found out he was being investigated:

“I did insult him, it’s true, but I categorically did not call him a terrorist,” Materazzi said. “I’m not cultured and I don’t even know what an Islamic terrorist is. I held his shirt for a few seconds only, then he turned round and spoke to me, sneering. He looked me up and down arrogantly and said, ‘If you really want my shirt, I’ll give it to you afterwards’. ”

Hmm. So now he’s being investigated, he’s coming clean about the insult, which he initially had denied. Publicly, Materazzi has, at best, a spotty disciplinary record in the sport of football.

The speculation is that the insult he uttered involved:

• An insulting comment about Zidane’s mother
• A racist remark about Zidane or his mom being a terrorist (Zidane’s parents are Algerian)

Given all the circumstantial evidence, I’m going to go ahead and make my judgement on this one. Yes, head-butting an opponent is inappropriate. However, if said opponent is insulting your family or your race than he better duck, ‘cause I’m expecting to see a swing.


Materazzi is lucky that it was Zidane he was insulting and that he only got a head-butt to the chest. If he had pulled the same shit with someone like Wayne Rooney, he would’ve gotten his ass beaten to a pulp. I hope that the rumours aren’t true and that Materazzi didn’t say what people are saying he did. But if they are, I hope Italy meets France in the finals of Euro 2008 and Theirry Henry elbows him in the face. Hockey styles.

Endquote

One of Italy’s senators, Roberto Calderoli (who once showed up to work wearing a t-shirt with the offensive Mohammed cartoons on it), comments on the French team post-World Cup:

"Italy beat a team which, in the quest for results, sacrificed its own identity by selecting blacks, Muslims and communists"

Makes you wonder. Is Italy the new Germany?

Hot Italian Sausage

Some of the members of the World Cup winning Italian Football team in an underwear ad for Dolce & Gabbana.

My favourite little button

Chris and I finally had a free Sunday, so we hauled our asses off to Oakville to visit one, Maxwell Hunter Carefoot. We picked up the cutest onesie with a robot print from Hard Boiled (‘cause Max is a hipster baby).

Maxy Poo Poo had just turned nine weeks old and is one adorable little man.


Scott and Kat fired up the BBQ and we had ourselves a nice little afternoon lunch. Scott is the master of the grill, so the steaks were perfect, grill marks and all. I had gotten up early that morning to make the accoutrements (cole slaw and potato salad).

After lunch, we fired up the digi cam that Kat’s mom had just passed along to her.

Here is Max looking very unhappy in sunglasses, while his parents look so happy about their little bundle of joy:


And this is the cutest shot of them all. My favourite little button taking a snooze on my shoulder:


If you haven't seen this kid yet, I suggest you invite yourself over ASAP. You have to see Max to believe how cute he is.

Congratulations again Kat and Scott! You make good babies.

Travelocity and Expedia hate communists

So I am not in the mood to do much work today. And on these sorts of days I like to research pretend holidays. Today I thought I’d pretend to go to Cuba.

My favourite sites to use for this sort of thing are either Expedia or Travelocity, mainly because they search a bunch of different airlines and hotels.

So I started off with Travelocity and like a good Canadian I went to the dot ca site instead of the dot com.

Here’s what I got returned to me from my search:

So then I tried Expedia. Again on the dot ca site. Here’s what I got:



From what I last heard, Canadians were free to travel to Cuba.

I’m so glad that both Expedia and Travelocity so generously made the call for me as to whether or not I can go to Cuba — despite the fact that Canadians are free to travel co Cuba and I was on their Canadian sites. This will make it much easier to never ever use their Web sites to book another flight or hotel from them.

Tom Cruise is Pure Cheese

Ah the double finger air poke. You would think that in this day and age that it's done purely for comical reasons.

Tom still thinks it's the perfect pose.

I laughed my ass at this.

Eurotrip 2006

I do realize that this is a bit late coming as I’ve been back for about two weeks now. However, there have been a lot of things happening both at work and personally. I will have an update on some of it a bit later on.

For now, I just want to say that I thoroughly enjoyed my trip to Europe. Chris and I spent three days in London, three days in Paris and another three days in London. Then Chris went home and I was off to Florence with my good friend Hilda. Thanks to Hilda for putting us up while we were in London.

Here are my highlights.

London

• Shopping! I got red ruffled shoes, Jack Purcells, two bags, cufflinks, travel stuff from Muji. I love me some London shopping.
  
• The best curry outside of India. We had amazing Indian food on Brick Lane.
• Chez Bruce. This place cost us an arm and leg, but it was soooo worth it. The best duck I’ve ever had in my life and a cheese plate to die for.
• Eric Clapton at Royal Albert Hall. I’m not a huge fan, but to see him play at this venue was awesome.
• Tate Modern. I saw a lot of museums on this trip. This was my favourite by far. Great collection.
• The Thames. Low due to drought, but still powerful.
• Avenue Q. If you’re ever in New York or London, I highly recommend this show. Puppets giving each other oral sex!
• Fish and chips. I love love love fish and chips at the Rock and Sole Plaice. Chris and I had it as often as we could. Sadly this was only twice.
• Borough Market. I made Hilda and Chris go here almost every day. It’s like St. Lawrence Market on steroids. I cannot get enough of this place. I had the best bacon ever at this place. I still dream of that bacon…

Paris

• The Marais. This was the only area in Paris that wasn’t torn down and re-built by Napoleon. My absolute favourite part of Paris. We stayed at a cute little hotel here.
• Café culture. We’d have a cappuccino in the morning. Walk around a bit. Stop by for a glass of wine or a beer. Walk some more. More wine and beer. I love cafés.
• Steak frites. Chris and I had this every night we were there.
• Boulangeries, fromageries and bouchers. I wish grocery shopping were like this in Toronto.
• Charcuterie. Pork done 15 different ways. Does it get any better?
• Bordeaux wines. Chris and I spent 40 Euros on two bottles to bring back. A 1999 Bordeaux for under 20 Euros! What a steal!
• L’As du Falafel. The best falafel I’ve ever had. The eggplant was like butter.
• Chez Denise. Good traditional, rustic French cooking. Foie gras and steak frites. This place kicked ass.
• The Seine. The most romantic river ever.
• Louis Vuitton on the Champs Elysées. We had champagne while we waited for our purchase (his and hers wallets). Bling bling.
• Seeing Winged Victory at the Louvre.
• The view of Paris from Restaurant Georges, at the top of the Centre Pompidou.
• Losing Chris at the Gare du Nord. Poor guy. I had his passport and his ticket, plus he couldn't speak a word of French. Boy was he sweating bullets. Not so funny at the time, but fricking hilarious now!
  

Florence

• Even more shopping! We went to the outlets and cleaned up. Prada shoes, a Balenciaga bag and a Gucci bag for my sister. Add to that two more pairs of shoes, white gold pavé star earrings, two bottles of wine (including a 30 Euro Chianti) and two sets of La Perla lingerie for 240 Euro (the most I have ever spent on lingerie, but I have a boyfriend now.)
• Bistecca alla Fiorentina. Almost a kilo of steak, cooked rare, drenched in extra virgin olive oil. We had this with white bean salad, asparagus and a kick-ass bottle of Chianti.
• Fresh pasta. I am not normally a fan, but I ate it every day and effing loved it.
• Mercato Centrale. We ate here almost every day. Parma ham, authentic Florentine trippa burger (tripe burger), stews, pasta and gypsies — this place had it all.
• Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. I could not stop staring at this painting. It was breathtaking.
• Gelato. Pistachio gelato that actually tasted like pistachio. We had this every single day for a week.
• Buca Mario. So good, we had to eat here twice.
• Wild boar. I had this with pappardelle in a sauce the first time, then again as an entrée served with the best polenta.
• Chianti. We had a bottle every single night we were there. It doesn’t get any better.
• Piazzas. Why doesn’t Toronto have a piazza? Florence had dozens!
• The Arno. Simply gorgeous.
• Pontevecchio. The best jewellery you’ll ever find. True Florentine craftsmanship and tons of vintage art deco pieces (my favourite).
• Salvatore Ferragamo museum. This man was a genius.
• Boboli Gardens. The Medicis knew how to do excess well. This garden is huge and amazing.
• Basilica of Santa Croce. The tombs of Michelangelo and Marconi!

Overall a fantastic trip. After being away with no Internet access for a total of 17 days, I am much more relaxed. Check out my photos on Flickr.

Talk Shows Bite

There was a point where I really loved Conan O’Brien. My sister and I would endure the completely unfunny meanderings of Jay Leno and David Letterman to watch Conan. Eventually, he too became tiresome and I found better things to do with my late nights.

It’s hard to put into words why I really dislike the likes of Letterman and Leno. However there is a video that summarizes it well. This is Harvey Pekar’s last appearance on Letterman before he was banned from the show. He was eventually asked back roughly 10 years later.

Notice that instead of dealing with Pekar in an intelligent manner he instead resorts to using good old sight gags and mental illness insults. What a tool.

Happy Birthday Jerktic!

It’s my sister’s 28th birthday today and she’s asked for a Gucci bag.


I think I’ll surprise her with something a little more rustic.


Seriously though. I will be shopping my hardest to find her the perfect bag at the Gucci outlet in Florence. Anything to make my little jerktic happy.

Can wait!

This guy is OTT

First of all, I've been addicted to You Tube for far too long now. Second of all, WTF Tom Cruise? Why? Why do you do this?

Eminem’s Predecessor

Ah the white rapper. Will he ever win?

Ricky, Stephen & Karl watch Brokeback Mountain

So effing hilarious.

Return of the keytar

Suddenly the keytar is everywhere!

They're on t-shirts:


They're in Eastern European music videos:



What next? Bollywood?

A Day in the GTA

I moved to Toronto six years ago and have lived downtown the entire time. Excursions north of Eglinton are far and few between for me, so when I get the opportunity to explore the GTA, I go all out. Chris had his parents’ shaggin’ wagon for the weekend, so we met up at Downsview station and decided to make a day of it.

The first thing I always do when I’m in the ‘burbs is get my eyebrows and upper lip threaded. I used to get it done all the time downtown, but when I first got both done for five dollars in Mississauga, I just couldn’t bring myself to pay $18 to get my brows alone threaded. For a fiver and a loonie tip, my eyebrows are shaped up and I no longer have peach fuzz on my upper lip.

Next, we headed down to Pacific Mall, where I finally bought a pair of glasses! I shopped downtown for months and because I wanted titanium and pretty frames, I couldn’t get a quote for under $1100. The ones I got are green and $600 tax in. They are pretty fancy.


Chris and I also had lunch at the Pacific Mall food court, which was extremely tasty. For $18, we got a whackload of shrimp fried rice, curry beef brisket and some deep fried soya chicken. It was better than King Noodle (sorry Scott).

Now that we were stuffed and my wallet was a little lighter. We hauled ass to Yorkdale, which is like a nightclub on Saturdays. Chris picked up two pairs of jeans at Club Monaco for $112. This completes his little denim renovation project. No more carpenter jeans from the Gap! My baby is super fan-cay.

The only iffy part of the day was our meal at Vinnie Zucchini's Italian Eatery, an all you can eat Italian resto. I’m pretty sure the salad bar was a food poisoning incident waiting to happen. Nevertheless, the poached salmon and eggplant parmesan were sublime. The risotto and polenta were pretty tasty. I won’t mention the other bits as I think I’m still expelling some of it today.

Overall it was a very successful day. We were so exhausted by the end of it that we just couldn’t drag our asses over to Neutral for a friend’s birthday.

Although I'm not quite sold on the 'burbs just yet, it was a lovely little day.

Yay Blue Jays!

Chris and I got some free tickets to the Blue Jays’ Twonie Tuesday night last night. They were playing the hated New York Yankees, so of course the place was packed.

I’ve watched a few Blue Jays games already and have had some good seats in the past. The past two times I’ve been, however, I’ve done the nosebleeds and I must say — once you go nosebleeds, it’s hard to go back.

Blue Jays games are waaaaaay better with the rowdy drunks in the nosebleeds. Twonie Tuesday in particular brings out a fantastic crowd.

Highlights from last night include:

• The most obnoxious dude in the world calling after the poor beer seller by yelling out “Hey Beer Guy” in a pseudo-Boston accent. Repeatedly.
• People just sitting wherever they wanted to. Ticketmaster be damned.
• These two New York Yankees fans trying to start a fight with about six big Blue Jays fans. The Yankees were losing already and made a huge error that led to a run for the Blue Jays. Those guys shut their mouths real fast, only to be kicked out be security anyway.
• Barely legal hoochies, dressed in full Yankee regalia from their local Big It Up store. They started flirting with some loud drunk frat boys who yelled out, “Show Us Your Tits!” Instead of flipping them the bird and throwing their drinks at the guys, they giggled flirtatiously. Nice. Feminists everywhere should be proud.

I loved loved loved it. I encourage you all to get some nosebleed seats to a Blue Jays game before the summer is out.

It's in Canada!

Watching it right now. Flava Flav is way grody. New York is a crazy bitch. I LOVE IT!

It's gotta be Nicole Richie

From The Awful Truth by Ted Casablancas...

One Horsing Around Blind Vice

Pixie Mixie, your life is becoming more and more like a serialized British comedy that would be far too raunchy and ribald for American audiences. We here in the land of the fruity and the free don't tend to condone racial slurs and messy heroin stains. Try Great Brit, Pix--that's where they use nefarious humor and the C-word like I do overdone adjectives!

Alas, Pixie is certainly very American. So, she should know better. Or maybe she does, and she just doesn't care; who the eff knows with this broad.

'Kay. Let's get ugly, shall we?

It was at a glitzy party in an even glitzier city that Pixie Mixie was relaxing at a table with some of her snootiest, closest friends. Thrilled to see the famous mini-goddess in person, a humble young man approached. He smiled broadly, in a winky way. "I am a star-fucker, and you are a star," he bravely--and totally cojones-equipped--blurted. "See where this is going?"

But Pixie wasn't in the mood to joke around. "Ewww!" she railed, loud enuff for everyone within several feet to hear. "Get this [racial epithet] away from me!"

So racist! So bossy! Her tablemates looked around, all horrified.

Naturally, the fawning fellow fled across the room. Feeling guilty, he sent over an olive branch (the kind Matt Lauer might send to Tom Cruise, say): a plate of French fries and a gravy boat. But Pixie didn't so much as touch the damn food. Instead, she bolted.

Later in the evening, Pix was back on the scene at a party nearby. Important denizens noticed that something was different about her. A sudden haircut? A new shade of rouge?

Nope. It was the mustache she had suddenly grown. Not the kind that can be staved off with a little electrolysis at Elizabeth Arden. Nope. Pixie's stache was made of powder. No, not Kate Moss white; this stache was yellow and brown. Yep, heroin lip.

Oh, Pixie, really? Well, there is something redeeming in all this. Maybe glamour girlfriend only gets racist when she's all smacked out.

See, I knew we'd end on a positive note!

According to Ted, it's not Brittany Murphy, Lindsay Lohan or Whitney Houston.

My Super Sweet Sixteen

I have got to stop watching MTV Canada. There is absolutely nothing that is going to make me a better person on that channel.

Nevertheless, I love love love, My Super Sweet Sixteen.

I cannot believe half the shit that goes on amongst the rich in America.

Some highlights:

• Aaron (son of LA Reid & Pebbles) had his invitations recorded on MP3 players. At best those MP3 players are about 100 bucks a pop and he invited enough people to fill the 40/40 club (a nightclub owned by Jay Z). Also Kanye West performed at his party.
• Marissa didn’t just get one car (a black SUV); her dad got her a “weekend car” as well (a red sports car, the only one of its kind in the US). She also died her poodles pink to match the pink theme of her party.
• Natalie, who got her step-mom to take her to Las Vegas to shop for her dress. It cost $900. She also goes to pick up her out of town friends in her dad’s Rolls Royce.

The absolute topper however is Sophie. She is a bonafide BEOTCH. This girl:

• Yells at and berates her mom throughout the show.
• Bitches out a former friend in front of all her classmates.
• Loses it when her grandmother threatens to get her a used Audi.
• Says stuff like “What Sophie wants, Sophie gets” and “If I don’t get what I want, bad things will happen.”

She stills gets a party that costs almost $200,000 and a brand-spanking new Audi.

I am going to go gouge my eyes out now.

8th & Ocean

So MTV Canada finally launched, so Canadians can finally watch My Sweet Sixteen. As I was perusing the brand-spanking new channel on a Saturday afternoon, I came across a little show called 8th and Ocean.

I am hooked.

Basically the show is about a bunch of models, both male and female, who live in Miami’s South Beach and work as new models for the Irene Marie agency.

Let’s start off with Irene Marie. Homegirl is hilarious. She is the momma bear of the group and has had so much plastic surgery that she is officially non-biodegradable. Parts of her face will be around long after the world has ended.

Then of course we have the twins. Kelly and Sabrina. Sabrina unfortunately was dealing with some skin issues and had a huge acne breakout in one of the shows. She was told to stay home until her skin cleared up, which totally made her cry. You’re a fucking model. You’re judged on your looks all the time. Get a grip.

The romance on the show is provided by Teddy (a budding lothario torn between love and lust) and Britt (a devout Christian with a bod for sin). These two are playing a cat and mouse game filled with sidelong glances and inane banter.

My favourite people on the show are the bookers, especially Suzy. She is fucking fierce. She is plain-looking but knows that she’s far smarter than these girls. She also knows that their looks will fade, but her hardass attitude will be paying her for the rest of her life. She doesn’t coddle the little darlings and often tells them bitches where to go.

Check out the trailer:

I'ma Bitch Slap You!

As you will recall, on the show Flavour of Love, Pumkin spit on New York.

New York never forgot it and she is one crazy beotch.

This little clip is from the re-union show.

Poor Kimora

After months of rumours, it's finally happened. Kimora Lee Simmons is now a single lady.

From PEOPLE magazine:

Rap mogul Russell Simmons and his wife Kimora Lee Simmons are splitting, a rep for Kimora confirms to PEOPLE.

Russell issued his own statement Friday afternoon, saying: "Kimora and I will remain committed parents and caring friends with great love and admiration for each other. We will also continue to work side by side on a daily basis as partners in all of our businesses."

The statement also says the couple have been separated "for some time," but have continued living under the same roof.

Russell, 48, and Kimora, 30, married in 1998 and have two daughters: Ming Lee Simmons, 6, and Aoki Lee Simmons, 3. Both girls model for Baby Phat Clothing, Kimora's offshoot of her husband's Phat Farm clothing line.

The former Kimora Lee, whose father is African-American and mother is Japanese-American, was a model, for Chanel and others, when she began dating Simmons, a cofounder of Def Jam Records.

The pair met in November 1992 during New York City's Fashion Week. She was 17 and about to finish high school; he was 35 and a self-admitted ladies man. "I was skeptical," model Tyra Banks told PEOPLE in 2002 of her initial reaction to the relationship. But, she said: "She turned the man about town into a loving husband and papa."

The couple were married by Simmons's brother, Pentecostal minister and rapper Joey "Reverend Run" Simmons of Run DMC, on the Caribbean island of St. Bart's on Dec. 20, 1998.

As most people know, I love love love me some Kimora.

Rumour has it Russell's been "doing yoga" with a younger model named Denise Vasi. He sooooo traded last year's Bentley for this year's suped up version.

I hope Kimora goes on Tyra's show and gives us a version of the spurrned wife that puts Jennifer Aniston to shame.

Oh Whitney

I <3 Magneta Lane

In 1982 I was six years old and a FOB. I had been in Canada about two years. My family was broke at the time, but we had enough money for a television and basic cable. It was then that I got my first taste of girl rock.

I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll was released in 1982 and spent seven weeks at the top of the pop charts. The first time I saw Joan Jett rock out in the video, I felt an amazing surge of electricity coarse through my veins. Something about her looking like a badass and murdering the crowd with her guitar riff made me want to be just like her.

Years later, the only musical instrument I had mastered was the very un-rock ‘n’ roll flute and the only real song I had performed live was an Italian art song. Nevertheless my love of the lady rockers did not die.

The past few years have been filled with disappointment for me as girl rock was replaced with vapid chick pop. The Christinas and Jessicas of the world stripped their way into the general consciousness and girl rock had to get in the backseat. This is not to say that girl rock didn’t have representation over the past few years (I had Le Tigre among others), it just wasn’t as prominent nor as plentiful.

Then Sleater-Kinney knocked it out of the park last year with The Woods. Girl rock was beginning to awake from her slumber.

This year Magneta Lane released Dancing with Daggers and girl rock officially fluttered her lashes again.

Magneta Lane is like a better, female version of The Strokes. I am obsessed. Listen to it when you get a chance.

Viva les girl rockers.

(Notable mention to Tokyo Police Club who are not girl rockers per se, but are still fun and opening up for Magneta Lane for their April 6 show at the Horseshoe.)

Ouch!

Man Hurls Knives, Severed Penis In Rampage

Police Respond To Calls Of Man Smashing Car Windows

CHICAGO -- The Chicago Sun-Times reported Friday that a Chicago man resisted arrest in a most unusual way Wednesday morning.

Jakub Fik, 33, went on a rampage, smashing car windows on the city's Northwest Side. When police approached him, Fik hurled several knives and his severed penis at the officers.

Police subdued Fik with a Taser gun and took him into custody.

"We took him out without any serious injury, with the exception of his own," said Chicago police Sgt. Edward Dolan of the 16th District.

According to the published report, doctors at Northwestern Memorial Hospital reattached Fik's penis Wednesday. A hospital spokesman said he was listed in good condition Thursday.

The paper said that Fik lives in the 5400 block of W. Berenice Street. He is charged with two counts of aggravated assault and one count of criminal damage to property, said Officer Laura Kubiak.

Fik told paramedics he was distraught over problems with his girlfriend in Poland, Dolan said.

The suspect was bleeding when officers arrived and may have already cut off his organ, Dolan told The Sun-Times.

"At that point, this guy came running out, naked, with a handful of knives . . . and started throwing knives at the police officers that were 10, 20, 30 feet away," Dolan said. Included in the hurled items was the man's penis.

He then went back into the house and re-emerged with "another handful of knives," Dolan said.

The officer said he sneaked to the side of the house and stunned Fik with the Taser gun. The suspect continued to struggle with officers near the front steps of the home.

"About 10 feet from the front porch, right on the sidewalk, was his penis," Dolan said.

The published report included a statement from a University of Chicago urologist who said that the reattachment of a penis, while unusual, can be a highly successful operation.

Guess who I get to interview?

I am SOOOOO EXCITED!