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!

MSN Conversation between Lulu & Scott

My friend Scott has broken some new social barriers with his notorious poker night by inviting his first gay participant. Since its inception, Scott's poker night has been a point of contention.

However, with the addition of Attit and Chris, the game broke its first social barrier, that of race and now with the addition of Chris #2, the game has moved with the times and embraced differences within sexual orientation.

The only social barrier left to overcome has to do with the issue of gender. On this issue, Scott will not budge. His argument? Sometimes a man needs a little cock.

Here is our conversation from today.

scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
he may be coming to the poker game now
Lulu says:
hot
Lulu says:
finally
Lulu says:
your game has broken barriers
Lulu says:
not only for race
Lulu says:
but for sexual orientation
Lulu says:
only thing left
Lulu says:
is the gender barrier
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
nope
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
no woman allowed
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
dan is taliban
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
i need a guys night now
Lulu says:
HAHAHA
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
before i could've gone either way
Lulu says:
the old lady riding you
Lulu says:
?
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
this is sausage
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
nope
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
but a guy needs his time
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
i work with women
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
live with women
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
i need to cock rock it sometimes ya know
Lulu says:
oh yah
Lulu says:
you definitely need some cock
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
gth
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
you deserve to be sick
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
hahahaha
Lulu says:
and you deserve some cock
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
you are tooooo much
Lulu says:
you love it
Lulu says:
you did it to yourself
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
true

The Da Vinci Code

I soooooo did not want to read this book, let alone like it.

A few years ago my friend Hilda bought me a copy of the Da Vinci Code at a book sale. I am not at all a big fan of fiction and rarely read it. Also, I had heard a lot of hype surrounding this book and like the cultural snob that I am, immediately just put it in my “read it if I am trapped in my house and all other books, magazines or anything else with writing on it has been destroyed” pile.

Meanwhile, everyone else I knew could not stop asking me to borrow the damn thing. I think I leant it out to about three people. Each of them had the same reaction. No one could put this book down once they got their hands on it. This went on for about a year after I received the book.

Still. I didn’t want to buy into the hype. So each time I got the book back, I just left it on my bookshelf unread for another year.

Then the film talk began. Again, people were abuzz. Great debates began springing up arguing whether or not Tom Hanks was the right person for the lead role of Robert Langdon. Everyone seemed to agree on the casting of Audrey Tatou for the role of Sophie Neveu.

Still. I held out and the book remained unread by me for a few more months.

Until this weekend. My good friend Erica came for a visit this weekend and at about midnight on Friday, she demanded that I read the first five pages of the book.

As it turns out, I couldn’t put this book down and ended up reading it until 5:00AM and basically finished the book in roughly six hours.

The Da Vinci Code is just a good old fashioned thriller with some of the most intricate, yet uncontrived plot twists I’ve ever encountered in a book.

I cannot wait until the movie comes out!

South Dakota makes me sad

So it’s finally official. If you’re a woman in South Dakota and you want to have an abortion, you better be dying.

This is a sad, sad development.

Read more about the law on CBC.ca

How cute is Jake Gyllenhaal?

Now I know this is not new, but it's new to me. Although I think Jakeypoo is adorable, I wasn't so convinced that he should be on my "bangable" list. However, I've just seen some pictures that have moved Jakeypoo into bangable territory.

Here is Jake having dinner with Ang Lee:



So it seems that Jakeypoo had a bit too much to drink at said dinner.



And my favourite. Here he is looking like a jackass as he crashes a photo of Ang and Uma.


I am a sucker for drunken jackass antics. Well done Jakeypoo, well done.

I like my bangs extra crispy

Today I saw a woman with crispy bangs and it brought back some memories. For those of you who don’t know what that is, refer to the above photograph.

Now I am not above the crispy bang as during the mid-80’s I did my best to achieve the perfect crispy bang, to no avail. I never had the right cut, nor the right weight to my hair for it.

Here is how one achieves the crispy bang:

1. You start with a haircut that is not unlike a mullet. The only real difference is that the business starts further up, so that your bangs feather around your face like a sweet sweet baby chick (with a mullet).
2. Spray the bejeezus out of said feathered bangs. Aqua Net was a late 80s favourite.
3. Using a curling iron you curl your front bangs under, so that they are nice and rounded and the tips of the bangs curl to touch your forehead.
4. You fluff the surrounding area around the curled bangs.

Like I said earlier, my attempts at this look were never successful. None less successful then the time I did my hair just before my friend Paula’s 11th birthday.

I had gotten myself all dolled up and really gave’r with the Acqua Net for Paula’s party. Sadly, while I was a fan of the crispy bang, I was also a fan of playing with open flames.

This particular day, just before leaving for Paula’s party, I was seeing how long I could hang on to a lit toothpick before it burned my fingertips. While I was focusing on not burning my finger with a burning toothpick, my pathetic crispy bangs went up in flames like Scarlett’s plantation in Gone with the Wind.

Le sigh.

Leave it to the hicks to make me feel all nostalgic.

All for the hand of Flava Flav

I can't imagine putting all this effort in for Flava Flav.

Hermione is all growed up

FYI she is 15. I am sooo not going to judge, because I was doing such things at 14.


What next? Liquid ecstasy?

I love me some Paul Walker

So I picked up a copy of Toro this week and who should be on the cover but Paul Walker. Normally the blond hair, blue-eyed combo does not turn my crank, but for some reason Paul Walker gets me more worked up than a bitch in heat.

Apparently Paul Walker is no pretty boy. He comes from a long line of military men and is all about shooting guns, drinking and getting into bar fights. He's even being compared to Steve McQueen. (My favourite!)

Let's read a quote from the lovely Mr. Walker:

You work with these pricks and you hear these stories about like Michael Bay. I mean that guy is such a nightmare. People like that shouldn't be allowed to work anymore. I hope he hears this.

Nice. He publicly insults and then taunts Michael Bay, director of such mega-hokey movies as The Island, Bad Boys, Pearl Harbor and Armageddon. That guy has got some cajones.

Here are some photos of Hot Paul shirtless.

Do you think these guys bowl on a team together?

Mein schwanz mit mein kampf!

Wow.

This is why kids need to play less on the computer and spend more time outdoors.

This B**** is Crazy

Did they have religious cartoons lying around or something?

I'm all 'bout being "dark sided" if it means being the opposite of this woman.

Steve McQueen and other Valentine’s Day Treats

I do realize that it’s a bit late for a Valentine’s debrief, but things have been busy.

So my lovely boyfriend informed me a few weeks ago that he had picked some “materials” up for my Valentine’s Day prezzie. Naturally, I demanded that he tell me straight away and continued to badger him until Valentine’s Day.

After the fourth night of “I have go to home to work on your gift,” I told him that if it wasn’t good, that I would really be pissed. (I’m not the nicest girl in the world, but rest assured that I do know how to keep my mans happy.)

Our night began with us dividing and conquering the items that needed to be completed for our romantic night in. I was in charge of picking up the sushi and the movie that Chris had selected for our special night in.

Let’s talk about the movie for a sec. It was called Battle Royale. Here is what IMDB has to say about it:

Ninth grade students are taken to a small isolated island with a map, food and various arms. They have to fight each other three days long until the last one remains and are forced to wear a special collar which will explode when they break a rule.

I think me saying yes to this movie more than made up for the “my present better be good” comment.

My little darling was responsible for the wine and the dessert and of course my gift.

The present was AWESOME!

He painted me two canvases. One of Steve McQueen (my favourite) from the cover of the movie Bullitt, in pink and black. And one of Eric Clapton (his favourite) in black and white.

My boyfriend rocks!

I think I’ll keep him.

The city of love with my lova

So over dinner on Tuesday, my young lova asked if we can take a quick jaunt to Paris during our trip to London in May. Initially I was a little reluctant for two reasons.

1. This entire trip is costing me soooo much money! With London and Italy so far, adding Paris just seemed like so much.
2. Although we have 9 full days in London, there is so much to do that taking a few days to go to Paris would cut into that time.

As I am trying to be less of a biznatch, I looked into it.

Turns out it ended up being a lot cheaper than I thought and since I’ve already been to London before, I’ve seen most of what I wanted to see. As it also turns out, Chris was not so interested in spending all our time in London, hanging out in museums.

Long story short. We’ve now added Paris to the trip.

We are taking the Chunnel from London to Paris.

We are staying at the Hôtel Beaumarchais, which is near the Marais, one of few neighbourhoods in Paris that didn’t get torn down and re-built by Napoleon.


The last time I was in Paris, I was a single lady. Now I get to hang out in the city of looooooove with my lova.

Lucky him!

Another reason to hate the Bush administration

Wow. My 2nd hate post in a row and 3rd in less than a week! There is a lot to hate this week.

Hugo Chávez is the current president of Venezuela. He was elected in 1998, just six years after he orchestrated a failed coup d'état. He was re-elected in 2000, with over 60% of the votes.

Here are some highlights from Hugo Chávez’s tenure as president of Venezuela:

• He is a democratic socialist.
• Seeking to snap Venezuela out of social and economic decline, he launched the Bolivarian Missions, a series of social justice, social welfare, anti-poverty, and educational programs.
• Opposed the Washington Consensus and opted for alternative forms of economic development.
• Set up a free healthcare system in Venezuela.
• Put together a committee that drafted a new Venezuelan constitution that saw a significant increase in the number of human rights promised to the people of Venezuela.

So why does US Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld compare this man to Adolph Hitler?

Much like the way that John F. Kennedy dealt with Fidel Castro, the US government has decided to portray Chávez as a crazy commie, hell-bent on destroying everything that democracy stands for.

Here is what Rumsfeld has to say about Chávez’s influence in Latin America:

“We saw dictatorships there. And then we saw most of those countries, with the exception of Cuba, for the most part move towards democracies,” he said. “We also saw corruption in that part of the world. And corruption is something that is corrosive of democracy.”

Chávez has made it clear that he views the US as imperialist. He doesn’t trust them and he doesn’t want their help and does not want their presence in his country.

So naturally he is being subjected not only to a media smear campaign, he is also being watched and probably have a bunch of people trying to kill him on a daily basis.

I'm sure Chávez has his bastard moments and is certainly not the perfect politician. However, he seems to be actually trying to do good by his people and like most people just want to be left the fuck alone by the Bush administration.

Gwyneth Paltrow needs to shut the fuck up

Whilst perusing through Ananova.com, I came a across a story about how Gwyneth don’t like drunk ladies. Here’s the quote:

"I really don't like drunk women. I think it's such a bad look. I think it's very inappropriate.

"I think, 'Ooh, you're really degrading yourself to be this p**sed out in public.'"

Escoooose me?

Who the fuck do you think you are?

Some of my best friends are drunk women who get “pissed” in public places. And I will go so far to say that these women are far more beautiful, engaging, complex and intelligent than Gwyneth Paltrow can ever dream of being.

Now I have never ever liked Gwyneth. Sure she is pretty in that boring waspy fashion, but she is nothing special. And quite frankly, girlfriend talk too much.

For someone who claims to value her privacy, she sure does a lot of talking to the press. First she’s going on about her break up with Brad. Then her break up with Ben. Then about how she married Chris Martin ‘cause he looked like her dad. (Slightly creepy) Then she says that the reason why Brad and Jenn broke up was because they talked too much about their relationship.

SHUT THE FUCK UP GWYNETH. No one gives a flying fuck about your stuck-up view of the world.

Lock up the doors to your posh house in London and never ever let us hear or read any more utterances from your tight thin lips.

FYI. You are totally B-O-R-I-N-G.

John Mayer is FUNNY!

Evidence is here:



and here



Too bad his music is only so so.

My irrational hate on Mike Bibby

I was a huge basketball fan before the 1994 labour dispute. I’d cancel plans just to watch games and would tape them if I absolutely could not be around to watch them. You can imagine how excited I was when the Grizzlies came to Vancouver.

Mike Bibby was drafted by the Vancouver Grizzlies in 1998, a year before Steve Francis came to town. Although he was in no way as bad as Francis (aka “Fuckface”), I still didn’t like him. Sure he showed up and played well, but in my mind, he didn’t want to be there and was just being polite. Kinda like that guy who sticks it out on a blind date even though he thinks the girl is an uggo.

As much as I hate Steve Francis (and believe me I hate that guy), I seem to feel some rage for Mike Bibby. That bastard always had one foot out the door. He just didn’t have the balls to do it the way that Francis did.

Tonight, we went to see the Raptors vs. Sacramento. Mike Bibby lit it up to the tune of 42 points. I was there booing him every step of the way and it felt good. It felt right. It made an exciting game even more exciting.

So even though my reasons for hating Mike Bibby are based on my own theories about the guy, that is good enough for me. Sometimes you can't explain your rage. You just feel it. That is the beauty of irrational anger.

GFY Mike Bibby. GFY.

À bientôt, my sweet vaGina…

So it’s been one and a half days since my sweet vaGina left for her whirlwind trip around the world. I just got an email from her in Singapore and despite over 20 hours of flying, she still manages words that touch my heart just so. Here is an excerpt:

Your bed will be a cold lonely place without me. ;) ...unless Chris stays over in which case it will be your pleasure palace.

Sigh. A whole year with out my vaGina. What ever will I do!

Here are 5 things I will miss about her. (In no particular order.)

1. Her eggplant dish. I’ve attempted many a time to recreate it, but it just isn’t the same. Who knew that eggplant burnt to a crisp, some tomato, yogurt, garlic and dried mint could be such a party in your mouth?
2. Her shady details. Even if she’s just gone down the street to get milk, if you ask her where she’s gone, she’ll give you some sort of cagey explanation that makes you think maybe she’s robbed someone. It must be the result of years of “being at the library” until 3AM.
3. Her Germanic penchant for efficiency and orderliness. She once told me how to properly eat a quesadilla. I told her to GFY and then to GTH. Tempo anyone?
4. Her long luxurious hair. Makes you wanna stroke it for hours. Even after some crazy Korean lady has used a comb, filled with other people’s hair, that she’s dropped on the floor, to comb it.
5. Her ability to rock it the “3rd way” until she can’t shit right for weeks.

I could go on and on. My vaGina does so many things that fill my heart and bring a smile to my face. But it’s late and I must be off to bed.

She’s currently on a plane from Singapore to New Delhi now and when she lands, India will not know what it. Her Khyber Pass will swallow everything in it’s path.

Godspeed my man in Havana.

Canadians are stupid

I can’t fucking believe it. The Canadian public have officially elected a minority Conservative government. I now officially live in a country governed by Stephen fucking Harper.

Let’s re-visit some Harper quotes.

“Canada appears content to become a second-tier socialistic country, boasting ever more loudly about its economy and social services to mask its second-rate status.”

“I have no difficulty with the recognition of civil unions for non-traditional relationships but I believe in law we should protect the traditional definition of marriage.”

“We should have been there shoulder to shoulder with our allies. Our concern is the instability of our government as an ally. We are playing again with national and global security matters.”

“You've got to remember that west of Winnipeg the ridings the Liberals hold are dominated by people who are either recent Asian immigrants or recent migrants from eastern Canada: people who live in ghettoes and who are not integrated into western Canadian society.”

It angers me that people decided to vote for the Conservatives for no other reason than they aren’t the Liberals. How fucking ignorant is that. How about voting for the candidate that best represents your views!

I am willing to wager that most fucktards who voted for the Conservatives during this election hand no fucking clue who their candidates were. All they were thinking was, “the Reds fucked up, I’m going Blue this time.” This is not to say that I am a Liberal supporter at all. I am just so sick of people casting with their votes with the same level of brainpower as they use to sort their recycling.

We are officially a nation of utter morons.

I am fucking moving.

B-O-R-I-N-G: The Bachelor Paris

I cannot believe that the Bachelor franchise has been around since 2002. I will have to admit, I did follow the one with Aaron Buerge, only to be kicked in the teeth when he ditched Helene. (She was too good for him.)

Tonight’s double episode premier was a real snoozer. First and foremost, Dr. Travis Stork has got to be the most boring goody-goody to step into the bachelor shoes.

He doesn’t fool me though. I’m willing to bet that this guy has a sex tape of him doing some Thai transexual hooker up the butt.

The bachelorettes, of course, all showed up wearing the knowing scent of desperation. As per usual, the harem featured thin eyebrows, shiny hair and that fake niceness you get from the bitches competing with you for the Boxing Day deals. There was the requisite meltdown from the token over 30 hoochie, who of course is only interested in procreation. (FYI, I know plenty of professional over-30 women who want a husband and a baby as much as they want Stephen Harper for Prime Minister.)

The only glimmer of hope was Sarah B., who is from Winnipeg. (GO JETS!) Then. She opened her mouth and YEEEEESOS, the bitch is S-T-U-P-I-D.

To make this whole exercise even more idiotic, they are doing this shit in Paris. Hmm…Americans in Paris? Wasn’t it just a short while ago that Americans were throwing French wine down the sink and serving “freedom fries” instead of French fries?

It’s times like this when I really miss Temptation Island.

Best Quote:

As Travis is trying not to kiss Sarah B. they rub each other up as the other girls say…

“Ohmigod he’s feeling her up.”

NO SHIT BITCHES! HE'S A HORNY DOCTOR.

I <3 the Motorola Pebl

This is it! I have found the phone that I absolutely must have.

I will be stalking eBay until I get my hands on one. It comes in red too!

130 More Sleeps!

My friend H just officially booked our hotel for our trip to Florence today! I am one plane ticket away from fully booking my trip to London and Florence in May.

Here are a few things I am looking forward to in London:

• Finally getting to see the Tate Modern. I missed this the last time I was in London.
• Gorging myself on fish and chips at the Rock and Sole Plaice in Covent Garden.
• The London markets: Brixton, Spitalfields, Borough, Portobello and Camden.
• Afternoon tea at the Landmark Hotel.
• Shopping in Shoreditch.
• Picking up some earrings at Tatty Devine.
• Shopping for trainers at Foot Patrol.

The great thing about London this time around is that I won’t be alone! I’ll be dragging around C. He’s only got a few requests which I am happy to accommodate of course.

As for Florence, my friend H has been doing most of the planning for this. She booked us this great little boutique hotel called Hotel Globus.















Doesn’t it look amazing? I’ve done some reading about towns in Tuscany and have managed to put together a rough itinerary for us. This is what we’ve got so far:

• Shopping spree at the outlets. (Prada at 60-80% off!)
• Day trip to Siena.
• Day trip to one of the towns in the Chianti area.
• Day trip to San Gimignano.
  

If anyone has been to Florence, please fill me in on your travel tips!

New Year, New Jizzob

Wowawewa! Has it been that long since my last post??? I have absolutely no excuses other than, I just couldn’t think of anything interesting to say.

Now that I’ve made my “it’s been so long since I’ve blogged” statement, we can get to the good stuff.

I am starting yet another new job next week and to be truthful, I am not all that excited about it. I basically took the job for 3 reasons:

1. It pays a lot more money.
2. They told me I don’t have to work long hours.
3. It’s with MSN. For someone who works with Internet content, MSN is not too shabby.

What I find funny is that now I am leaving, I’m starting to notice how my current job ain’t so bad. I got to work with the smartest people I’ve ever worked with in my entire career. And I did work so challenging that my brain felt like mush afterward.

This new job is a whole lot cushier and most likely not as challenging. When I first accepted it, I felt a bit ashamed as I am essentially cashing in at this point in my career. I always said that I would rather poke myself in the eye with a fork than have a cushy 9 to 5 job. I started thinking that maybe I had lost my ambition.

As I started thinking about it a bit more I came to one clear realization. I have finally discovered that I am not defined by my job. For most people, this seems simple enough, but for a narcissistic workaholic like me, this is a breakthrough.

When I was 24, I had a bit of a breakdown. I had lost my “dream job” that I had committed one full year of 60-70 hours a week. I had nothing else in my life but work. And even though I have been choosy with the jobs that I’ve had (and I’ve had some good ones), this pattern of putting work before my personal life is one that I have continued to repeat throughout the years.

And then a year ago, I found myself again burned out by work and almost 30. This time however, I found myself having to take care of several people in my life who had been afflicted with some serious diseases. Added to that, I found myself in my first serious relationship. Added to that was the realization that I actually wanted to someday have children. All of a sudden work became this means to an end and not my sole purpose for existing.

So essentially, my ambition has not disappeared; it’s just taking a different form. I have always been whining that I don’t write enough because I don’t have the time and now I don’t have any excuses. I have re-discovered my burning desire to win a Pulitzer or a Booker and will be attacking that goal with the same tenacity that I used to have for my Internet career.

It’s nice. To have a personal life. To know that there are other things in my life more important than earning a lot of money for a corporation that would kick me to the curb as soon as there was a drop in my productivity.

Cushy new job, here I come!

Deconstructing R.

I like the ... with big booties in 'em
I like the crotch on you
I want what you've got baby

In 1993, I was 17 and just finishing up my last year in high school. That year also marked the first time I heard the words “I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump 'n grind.”

I have never been a lover or a hater of R. Kelly’s music. I thought his lyrics were ridiculous (“you remind me of my jeep, I wanna ride it” was particularly bad), but no more inane than anyone else being played on the radio at the time.

And then homeboy got busted.

I am a celebrity gossip whore of the worst kind, so of course I was all over it like fat kid on a smartie. Here is the rap sheet:

• Patrice Jones filed a suit against him for alleged statutory rape (she was apparently 16 when he was bumpin' and grindin' with her) and for forcing her to have an abortion.
• He was arrested after indictment on 21 counts of child pornography, which included a very graphic tape of him fucking a girl of 14. (He denied it was him, even though IT TOTALLY WAS HIM!)
• Montina Woods filed a suit against him for secretly taping the two of them having sex. (The tape is all over the Internet at this point.)
• He is arrested on charges of child pornography yet again, after the police raid his apartment only to find digital pictures of him fucking yet another underage girl.

So after all of this, I am of course completely repelled by this man. He not only makes hokey music about boning this and that, he likes the pre-pubescent ladies. So grody.

What does the general public do? They continue to buy his albums of course. He’s successfully released 4 albums since his arrests and his latest one, TP.3 Reloaded, just debuted at number one.

Let’s consider R. Kelly’s situation. He’s still not cleared of all charges; in fact, he’s still scheduled to appear in court. And although they buy his albums, people still think he’s likes to fuck young girls. What does one do if one were R. Kelly?

I think the last thing would be to release an album of hardcore songs about fucking with titles like Sex Weed, Touchin’ and (Sex) Love is What We’re Makin’.

My favourite song lyrics on this album appear in the song Put My T-Shirt On

T-shirt on gurl I love to see you wit my t-shirt on after we just got through hitten it in my home
(baby this is wat I wonna do)
wonna sex you in my white t stroke you in my white t honey put this...t-shirt on
gurl I love to see you wit my t-shirt on after we just got through hitten it in my home
(gurl this is what i wont)
bend it ova in that white-t let me hit it in that white-t

Wow. All this just before he has to go tell a judge that he is not a pervert who likes to bone young girls.

I must say. The man has got some big balls.

New to this stuff

For me, this is the year of “dealing with some bad shit,” which is something that is new to me. For the first time ever, I had to deal with the death of someone I really cared for and who had been a part of my life since I was 16. I have known people who have died, but I’ve never been really close to any of them, so I never really had to confront the issue so explicitly.

Added to this, there were two cancer scares within my social circle. So now people my own age (28) are starting to get sick, which is also an eye-opening experience. When you’re young, you don’t think about getting sick and when you are faced with the issue, it’s almost unbelievable.

One of my closest and dearest friends in the world lives in London. We’ll call her H. H lives there with her wonderful sister (D), brother-in-law (M) and niece (B). We see each other at Christmas. We hang out with each other’s families. I get updates and photos on B and her developments. They are good people.

I got into work late on Thursday and immediately had to get some stuff done right away. I didn’t get to the day’s news until about 10AM my time. When I read about the bombings in London, I immediately felt my stomach drop. I sat there for a few minutes and re-read the story, just to make sure that I had read it right.

All of a sudden I was frantic. I called H’s mobile phone and couldn’t get her. I kept hitting re-dial. I ransacked my desk for her home number and then realized it was on my Palm, which was at home. I sent an hysterical email. I looked for H’s mom’s phone number and picked up the phone to call her.

Then I got the email. They were safe. Only M was on the Tube. He’s shaken up but he’s safe. I started to cry tears of relief. I had never been so panicked.

H called later to give me details. M had taken a train that he didn’t normally take because he was on his way to a meeting. He just missed a train. When the second train came, he moved further down the platform as he thought it might be less crowded.

The bomb went off near King's Cross station. M saw a bright light and heard a loud bang. All he could think about was his wife and daughter. Above ground, a bomb had gone off at the tube station near H’s office, so they were sealed off for hours.

It was so close for them, especially M. Although I am so grateful that they are safe, I keep thinking about how close it was for M. What if he hadn’t moved over? He was so close to getting on a train that killed 21 people and injured so many more.

I know that all this is just the tip of the iceberg. There are going to be a lot more moments in my life that will involve death and tragedy. I have to somehow learn how to handle it more effectively and somehow learn and grow from it.

TomKat and Religious Rights

Apart from bringing back the old Hollywood practice of star matchmaking to hide a matineé idol’s otherwise obvious homosexuality, the unholy union of TomKat has started a whirlwind of public dialogue around the Church of Scientology. Since I love a good trend, I am taking this opportunity to weigh in my opinion on the matter. (Not on TomKat, but Scientology)

As I watched Tom Cruise slip into the dreaded “fundamentalist gaze” with Matt Lauer, I pretty much knew what was coming—fundamentalist meltdown or “fundy melt” for short. What made his fundy melt strange to me was that he was ranting about Scientology, a religion I know very little about. Here is what I know about Scientology:

• It’s based on a really poorly-written book by L. Ron Hubbard
• Lots of celebrities who were big in the late 1980s are into it
• Is associated with aliens who are in our bodies
• Uses terms like “thetan” and “engrams”
• Is “organized” in a mafioso or cult-like manner
  

Being that I knew very little about the subject, I’ve been reading as much as I can find on it. Most of my information has come from xenu.net, specifically a really good Time magazine article. I’ve also been reading this series on Scientology on Salon.com. Although I don’t consider myself a scholar on the matter, I do feel like I’ve got an opinion.

Like most religions, Scientology certainly appeals to those of us who are looking for some answers to life’s great questions and to some extent, a source of order within chaos. At some point or another we have all been lost and have needed something to help us along. For some of us it’s booze and for others it’s religion. (I personally use 1 part gin, 1 part religion, shaken not stirred.)

Nevertheless Scientology is some crazy ass shit. Here are just some reasons why I think it’s crazy:

• L. Ron Hubbard says that an “evil demigurge” named Xenu blew up 178 billion souls with hydrogen bombs hidden in volcanoes and now these souls or “thetans” are embedded in us all
• Charges its followers up to half a million dollars for courses that will help them become a “Clear” or “optimum individual”
• According to Tom Cruise, Scientologists believe that there is no such thing as chemical imbalances (is this motherfucker for real???)
• Resorts to using drug and alcohol centres to do some recruiting (this is how Kirstie Alley was snared)
  

And the list goes on and on. At the risk of sounding like a member of the Roman Empire looking to persecute some Christians, I have to say that I think Scientology is a load of horseshit (or malarkey for more delicate sensibilities) and you would have to be out of your mind to call it “spiritual.” Even so, people still have every right to practice it as a religion.

Just stay the hell away from me.

I'm Back!

So it’s been a while…

Basically, I have been on a mad hunt to find a place to live. My lovely roommate of the past four years is finally getting married to one of my old high school buddies. This of course is a fantastic and joyous occasion!

Nevertheless, finding a place to live has been ROUGH. I am a complete disaster when it comes to finding myself a place to live and have not always made the best decisions.

The first place I lived when I got to Toronto looked like a youth hostel and my superintendent kept offering me hot oil massages. My current place has been a success mainly because I had nothing to do with finding it.

Originally I was slated to move out in July. My new roommate and I found a wonderful place to live, only to discover that our potential new landlady was a tad on the crazy neurotic side. She called me five times to ask questions that ranged from how often my boyfriend would be over to whether or not I smoked pot. (3-4 times a week and on occasion)

After looking at a plethora of dumps, I had a mini-breakdown and we decided to hold off on the moving for another month. At this point, we started getting our shit together in a big way.

Did you know that you could use a realtor when you’re looking to rent? My friend hooked me up with a fantastic realtor (Danielle Thompson if you’re curious) and she basically found us the perfect spot. She also did pretty much everything for us, including negotiate the price of our rent. To make things better, we didn’t have to pay a cent!

So to make a long short, I finally have a place to live!

Here is the front:



Here is the fireplace:



Here is the kitchen:



Now I can get back to my life.

Carry on.