Time Travel Time

It was 1974 and we were on a family trip across the country. We drove to Calgary to see friends, and then on down the west coast to San Franciscy!

As Dad was off doing business, Mom took the boys on a tour of the Wharf and its environs. Suddenly (as it seemed to us), there was a parade. And what a parade! 8 year-old me marveled at the enormous butterfly wings sported by the parade marchers, the pretty dresses worn by so many people, and the general happy vibe of all the participants. And all I heard was laughter. And giggling. My mother giggling, obviously privy to some sort of secret my brother and I were not. We were perplexed, but there were so many colourful floats to see, so much music and so many men in shorts. It seemed very normal.

And it still does.

Here are the only pictures we have. Mom wasn't much of a shutterbug.


The sign in the background is for the Heine Piano Company. Turns out they made cars too.

Soon enough the parade was over and it was time to ride the cable cars. And all was forgotten for many years.


Powder blue jackets, flood pants and North Star shoes. Awesome.

Goth Horror A Go-Go

Here is Nicole Paquin singing "Mon Mari C'est Frankenstein", a post-war, pre-globalization "love gone wrong" tribute to the French government.

Or maybe just a chick in tight pants dancing to some crazy rock ' n roll. Who can tell with kids these days.

Anwyay, this is a Scopitone. What is a Scopitone?

It's a "Film Jukebox" invented in France in the early 1960's (from surplus World War II airplane parts!) and also the films (the precursors of today's music videos) which played on it.

Mon mari c'est Frankenstein sélectionné dans Rock / Pop et Clips

Team Mates? What Team Mates?

Sarah Palin on breaking the full-court press:

"A good point guard drives through a full court press, protecting the ball, keeping her eye on the basket... and she knows exactly when to pass the ball so that the team can WIN."

Maybe against a man-to-man press, but who runs those? More often than not it is going to be a zone press, and you don't out-dribble a zone defense. Watch how it is done.



But you just know that Palin was a self-centered and narcissistic in basketball as she is now. You work hard to get free, to find an opening, and the superstar asshole guard tries to pull a Curly Neale on the entire opposing team, only to draw a cheap foul, or dribble into a trap. Which is the fault of the team doncha know? You don't keep your eye on the basket Sarah, you keep your eye on your team mates. In order to pass. Before you get a time violation. You sure as hell don't walk off the court in the middle of the game.

Deadspin provides this diagram of the Sarah Palin version of the press break.

Quitting is Fighting!

Sarah Palin said of her quitting the job as Governor of Alaska:

'I am not a quitter; I am a fighter'

And you know, she's right. History is full of fighters wrongfully accused of quitting.

Fighters like Roberto Duran



Here's legendary runner Haile Gebrselassie winning the London Marathon by leading from the sidelines



Here's another fighter from the world of rally cars; that's not a crash, that's winning the race to the body shop.


And don't forget famous fighter McLean Stevenson, who wisely set out in search of his higher calling by passing the ball and leaving MASH after one season.

Like any American Idol hopeful, Sarah Palin is hoping to jump to the start of the political queue without all the nasty work. May I suggest she look to another famous "fighter" from whom she can draw inspiration.



You've come a long way baby.

Transformers: Revenge of the Idiocracy

A few posts back I discussed my anitpathy for Idiocracy, a bad, barely funny film.

But, I have to agree with Mike Judge's assessment that the U.S. is spiraling down the intellectual toilet. Normally I would fight this kind of elitist thinking and defend the common man.

No longer. All I can say is "What is wrong with you people"

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009) box office results.

If you need to see this dreck for yourself, at least sample it first.

If you are planning on going in order to see Megan Fox, save some money and browse the videos with Bing.

Solid Gold!

Of course I had a high-brow post in store. Something about fancy learnin' stuff and stuff. But you know how it is. That kind of writing takes thought and care.

Instead, I break you.



Don't quit on this video as there is so much to hate, and so much to regret.

Like "Hot Rod Hearts". Holy hell. This song reminds of one of my first cars. It sucked. Just like this song.

Some Canadian Culture Fer Ya

Even though I'm at work, I am getting a few glimpses of the celebrations on Parliament Hill. Every year I see a parade of artists I have never heard of--I really have to get out more.

Here are a couple Canadian acts for your birthday listening pleasure.






This guy was there too.



And if you want a good tick-list of stuff Canadians should do/should have done, pop over to the Rev's place and read paen to his native land.

One Minute Movie Review - Idiocracy

Allow me to paraphrase IGN's Hilary Goldstein: that movie sucked balls. Not half as funny as Beavis and Butthead. If you missed it, don't go looking for it. Idiocracy is a ham-handed waste of time on par with "Leonard, Part 6".

If A Speech Warrior Falls in the Forest City...

These cultural warriors came to London? Back in April? Hunh. Didn't notice. Good work on the P.R. Of course, this event, which nobody went to, and that the cowardly libby media didn't cover, was a hyooge success. Why?

Wendy says so:

"Filling a big room in a smallish town in Ontario on a Monday night (after a long weekend) was unexpected"

Oh just fuck off. Typical Toronto moron. By the way, the bus, and train come to London. Really. The train actually runs through the centre of town. Which is dumb. But not as dumb as...oh forget it.

Let's cheer up by singing the Dr. Roy theme song...

Nobody likes me
Everybody hates me
Think I'll go eat worms...

Brought To You By the Letters F, O, A, and D

I accept that you are busy. That you have a full schedule of driving the minivan to soccer, getting your old-ass ass to the doctor for another round of blood tests, or that your fat, red-headed, balding girlfriend is outside guarding the mountain bikes in the rain. I get it. You are busy.

That doesn't mean you get to take 40 things into the 1-8 line at the Superstore.

Do you really want me to yell at you? I will. I screamed "fuck off" at teens throwing pieces of pizza from the upper level of the store just last week. I have stopped tennis tournaments with foul-mouthed diatribes when people have tried to cheat on line calls. I will mock you. I am without shame. But I just want to get along, drink some coffee, and have some fun.

So, in order to avoid unpleasantness, I present the following video as a public service. My way of saying that the express line is sacrosanct.



Next: how in the hell do we mute those self-serve machines?

Huzzah! I'm In A Wiki!

Of course it's a wiki based on freedom of speech. Which usually means "Assholes spouting racism"apedia. But hey, it's a wiki. And I take it when I can get it.

Sadly, all the hoopla and excitement is about post I have made regarding the execrable Spaceman, Gary Bell. So I have to thank one of his fans, a Jim Dandy Goodness hater, for mentioning me.

Blaaarrrggghhhh!

Jim Dandy, Talkin' Truth to the Net Rights

I owe Gary Bell a beer. Even the Nut Rights love his stuff.

Jim Dandy is the Gold Standard

I read that post and I can barely remember writing that crap. What is it with the run on sentences? The bad punctuation? I am fucking illiterate and I apologise to you, my dear reader, for putting up with my craptastic emissions. It is a wonder to me that 10-20 people come here to read this blog everyday. Why? Why do you do this to yourself?

Cause me not smart.

Oh well. More Gary Bell it is then.




And now that Herb is gone, we are going to tackle economics. That will piss him off more than any movie.

Who Is This Going To Piss Off?

As we have been told, blogs are a complete waste of time.

In that vein, I have this question; can you buy ruffled or ridged salt and vinegar chips in London? I can't find them anywhere I shop, and this seems impossible to me.

I'd be more banal, but I'm busy watching Burn Notice. So cool.

I'm Not Sayin', I'm Just Sayin'

Boy, talk positively about a movie and suddenly you're guilty of cock-blocking your buddy and turning him into a Michael Coren fan. Such awesome power.

So I guess I can't talk about Burn Notice, a show that combines the best of Magnum P.I., Miami Vice, and Macgyver. Plus, you get Gabrielle Anwar.



And I guess I can't mention Breaking Bad. This might be the best show on television, but I can't recommend you watch it as you might not love it to death and holy freaking woop, that would be a disaster.

I can tell you that a movie about piss, and shit, and losers, was highly thought of on this blog. Do not watch it. Creepy dudes in fur suits are also a favourite, as is monkey on monkey crime.

From here on, if I mention anything, suggest a book, or say that I saw a movie, run the other way. Fast. Like you're being chased by Dobermans. Or bears. Or gorillas with shivs.

But don't fucking whine.

Thanks to Nick and Norah, this is my last post..

Okay you got me. Great joke. I rented Nick and Norah trusting that your thumbs up was sincere. Instead, as this lame excuse for a movie limped toward its pathetic end with "Fluffy" band finally found, I found myself hoping that a "bear" would appear so I wouldn't have to be pissed off. After 90 minutes of suffering through Michael Cera stuttering drivel, and smug earthy music chick dialogue, I realized I had been duped and those glares from my wife, who felt she would have been further ahead doing anything on the "list" than watching this dog, made me realize that in terms of a physical life, it was about to be a "month of sundays".

I can take a joke as good as the next guy, and I accept that blogs are generally a big waste of time but time wasted by one's own choice. Tricking me into watching a Michael Cera movie crosses a serious line because it took precious free time and wasted it unnecessarily. That is 90 minutes of my life I will never get back.

So in the end, you got me. You win. Bravo. But, I am out. Fugesy, Fysie, you can keep playing in this sandbox if you want but I would rather read, if not watch on TV, Michael Coren than put my trust in a blog that would even consider it ethical and cool to trick someone into watching "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist".

What a Day, What a Day

Pack up the babies and grab the old ladies 'cause Brother Love and his traveling Geek Show are coming to town!

First on the agenda, Hasbeens at the Covent Garden Market to get jacked on caffeine. I plan on being incomprehensibly over-excited. And I don't speak slowly at the best of times. I think we'll sit upstairs and gaze down upon the masses while we tell fear-filled anecdotes of the horrors of Detroit and of the time we almost got off the I-75 too soon. Yikes.

Filled with coffee and cool, it will be time to hit the streets with a fine crew of miscreants, bearded-sages, ninjas, and roller-babes. Of course, we will be patronizing only the finest retail establishments downtown London has to offer.

If you see us, say hi. We look like this:



Only way, way cooler.

Worst Awards Show Ever

So last night I watched the 2009 NHL awards and I was blown away by its cheesiness. Where to begin?

Picture a bunch of Canadian hosers having an awards ceremony in a community hall and picture that David, Fugle and Fyie are the nominees. Here is the presentation:

Announcer: To award the Lord Buttfungus award for cheeriest benchwarmers please welcome Yvon Cournoyer and the other guy that was in wham.

Cournoyer: Lots of good players are on teams. Then there are the guys who are not good but who everybody likes cuz they are good guys on the bench.

Other Wham Guy: The nominees are -- Fugle for his "put me in coach" looks. (bad video with overlapping fuzzy clips). Fyie for his "sorry coach , I'm still hurt and it looks rough out there (more bad video with growly voiced announcer), David for his "I am a specialist player and my situation has not arisen because we still only have a four goal lead".

Cournoyer: And the Whinnner is... Fugesy! tough luck Dave's, Tough luck Fysie.

How is that for riveting dialogue?

Michael Bubbly the Sinatra type guy from Vancouver who pretends to be a hockey guy was the host. That is the high point. After that, it is clear that hockey players cannot deliver lines. I have never heard so many flubs. But the best part was the "celebrities" who they paired up with the hockey guys to present awards. I would say B-list but that would be overstating it. There was the guy who played the FBI type guy in Prison Break. And then, to present the Jack Adams award for the coach of the year was Pat Burns and ... wait for it... Jerry Bruckheimer! Wow, Jerry Bruckheimer. Who knew he was a fan. I didn't even know what he looked like.

Then the fun part. I came into watching the awards fairly late so I saw Malkin, Ovechkin, Chara, Claude Julien and Ovechkin receive awards. Let me tell you, watching guys who are new to the english language do acceptance speeches does not make for riveting tv. Julien was ok but Malkin, he was a riot. Great talent on the ice, but not an orator.

How bad were the awards? Well they gave me new respect for the Junos and I am going to tune in next year for sure just to see how this train wreck moves along.