Hack the Bone

Golden Globes Liveblog 2012

2012-01-16T01:28:00.002+03:00

<a href="http://www.coveritlive.com/mobile.php/option=com_mobile/task=viewaltcast/altcast_code=be27fac4be" >Golden Globes 2012</a>

Grammys Liveblog

2011-02-14T03:37:00.001+03:00

<a href="http://www.coveritlive.com/mobile.php/option=com_mobile/task=viewaltcast/altcast_code=f6770b4d04" >Grammys Liveblog</a>

Things I know about the Academy Awards OR How to win your Office Oscar Pool

2011-01-26T00:50:00.004+03:00

I don’t go to many movies. When I do, I sit alone and cry. As such, a trip to the cinema becomes an exercise in public humiliation and I'm too proud to feel humiliated on the regular.

Thanks to weird social tics, I don't often see what's nominated for awards, but hell if that stops me from winning Oscar pools. Quite the opposite - watching films hampers an ability to win. Sometimes you fall in love with a performance and love makes you stupid, blind and miserable. Blue Valentine fan? You probably lamented today that the Gosling was robbed! Fools. You need to disassociate.

Don't worry that he was snubbed. Don't picture him waiting in bed for a call from Oscar that never came. Don't picture him turning to a random Internet stranger to dry his tears. Worrying about the Gosling is what losers do. You must instead follow the race to Oscar with a cold, calculating eye that helps pay your rent.

Maybe it's not cool to model oneself after the Jeopardy! robot. Whatever. Picture us rolling.

Since my friends no longer join my pool (weenies), in an effort to level the playing field I'm giving away a few tricks.

In grade school, I'd always watch the Oscars with my friend. He is straight. :O Our moms would let us skip class the next day so we'd have a sleepover and everything. Co-ed bunkmates in Catholic school?! Can you imagine?

For the record, nothing ever happened between us (in spite of the sleepovers) and we’re still great friends. That goes to show Hemingway was WRONG – a man doesn’t have to be in love with a woman in order to be her friend. Take that, Papa.

God, I’m tangenting already. I thought taking time away from blogging would improve focus. Nope!

BIG FAT ANYWAY.

Making Oscar Picks

Once you've abandoned your favourite movie, you're ready to compete. The first thing to remember is that winners are rarely based on merit. The Academy is heavily comprised of fogies who vote with a religious allegiance to their friends and studios. If you want to make some monies, bet on these locks: Bale - Supporting; Firth - Actor; Sorkin for Adapted Screenplay; Toy Story 3 for best animated; Fincher – Director.

Best Picture

Everyone thinks the Social Network is guaranteed to win, but don’t underestimate the Weinsteins' power to manipulate/terrify to get what they want. I’m fascinated by Harvey Weinstein. He *allegedly* sleeps with rising actresses with promises to boost their careers. He stomps through Oscar campaign season with an iron fist and a heat-seeking dong.

In case you haven’t herrrrd, the Weinsteins are backing the King’s Speech and aren’t satisfied with a Colin Firth win. They want Best Picture and conveniently, the King’s Speech is the kind of period piece, thinking man’s film that voters love. Considering voter demographics, I think the Social Network might be a little too….cool to win. Look for the King’s Speech to gain momentum in the coming weeks. It should be closer than everyone thinks.

And ooh! The Weinstein Company JUST hired a new publicity person. Yeah, this is gon get ugly.

The Social Network might lose Best Picture, but David Fincher will win for direction. It's his turn. Speaking of direction, everyone (Twitter) is up in arms because Christopher Nolan was evidently edged out by Russell for The Fighter. The argument from Hollywood types seems to be that Russell coaxed incredible performances from Bale and Leo, and that the trophy should go to an “actor’s director,” not a splashy world-creating genius like Nolan.

Isn’t that cute? Seems people forgot that Avatar happened LAST YEAR.

I still haven’t seen Avatar.

Voters might give Inception Best Original Screenplay as a consolation. It will also likely take home some technical awards.

Best Actress

Natalie Portman is 99 per cent guaranteed to win, but I’ve started to pick up on some Black Swan backlash. I trolled my favourite Hollywood blog and counted 17 ‘overrated’ comments about her performance. That’s not good. The Ashton Kutcher film won't help her chances. That said, she's been dominant at other award show so far, and it might be too late for an Annette Bening surge.

Black Swan was one of the few movies I actually did watch. It was hilarious! Quack quack quack.

It was crap, but I’d watch it again for Mila. Hi Mila.

Supporting actressI want to say Melissa Leo, but there's a child nominated for True Grit. Academy voters love when kids win and make a speech. It reminds them of their grandchildren.

Documentary

I'm going with Banksy because of the Academy’s predilection to give best doc to controversial figures. It's like their aforementioned grandchildren decide this one category. I think you can count on Banksy for the win especially considering HE MIGHT EVEN SHOW UP TO ACCEPT. BANKSY UNMASKED BY OSCAR VOTERS. "LOOK LOOK, WE'RE RELEVANT."

The remote remote possibility of an appearance should be enough to secure votes.

Song/Score

Cher isn’t even performing. You know she's mad. They nominated Randy Newman instead. He’ll probably win.

Tent Reznor will be an Oscar winner. Weird.

Others

There are ways to pick makeup and cinematography and the boring categories we usually sleep through. Choose the period piece for costumes and set design (probably King’s Speech). Maybe I’ll add hints as February 27th approaches.

Fin

I’m looking forward to the ceremony, mostly because I love tradition. Unfortunately for you, thanks to Ricky Gervais backlash and the Hathaway-Franco tandem, we can expect the circle jerk to end all circle jerks. A four-hour circle jerk at that.

Who's excited?????

At least they'll join my pool.

2011 Golden Globes Liveblog Extravaganza

2011-01-16T22:33:00.002+03:00

<a href="http://www.coveritlive.com/mobile.php/option=com_mobile/task=viewaltcast/altcast_code=17d53cba54" >Golden Globes Liveblog</a>

Initial thoughts on Qatar’s World Cup from a repatriated expatriate

2010-12-02T21:57:00.001+03:00

First, I’d like to extend congratulations to Qatar for being awarded the honour of hosting the World Cup.

The bid team ran a well-executed and organized campaign. It was clear from day one that unlike Qatar’s usual impotency at executing anything, the World Cup bid was different.

Today people actually care about the desert country that came seemingly out of nowhere to win.

Qatar won the World Cup. The tiny country with a population of just over 1 million people, a shameful FIFA ranking, and owners of the largest supply of liquefied natural gas in the world, won the freaking FIFA World Cup.

Qatar has been flying under the international radar for years, despite the fact that they have the richest economy in the world. Personally, I’m not shocked, but the result is shocking. They have a TON of money; of course they’re going to win. What will be most interesting is watching how Qatar reacts to international scrutiny. Qatar wanted the spotlight thrust and them and here it is. I hope they’re prepared to deal with the attention.

Right now, there is no way Qatar could host the World Cup. The infrastructure simply isn’t there. For starters, their public transportation is a joke. You think the TTC is bad? (It is terrible.) Doha has a small fleet of buses that run on seemingly random schedules. That is all.

Luckily for FIFA, Doha is developing at an alarming rate, thanks to the thousands and thousands of Sri Lankans and Nepalese who are building the country from the ground up.

Let’s talk about the laboring class for a minute.

These fellers are drawn to Qatar by promises of better wages and the opportunity to support their families from abroad. In many cases, once they arrive their passports are taken away. They find out they might be making more than they were back home, but it’s nowhere near enough to ever pay for the cost of living AND buy a return ticket home.

Once they've worked all day in the oppressive desert sun, they crowd on buses to drive to sleep in tiny living spaces with 25 other men who also might never again see their families.

And it’s not like these poor little dudes can take comfort in each other. Homosexuality is illegal in Qatar. It’s an offense punishable by 90 lashes.

I can’t help but wonder where they’ll hide these modern slaves when the international press rolls into town.

And how about the culture of sport? I gained like ten pounds living there. It’s the least pedestrian-friendly city I’ve ever seen; if you’re lucky enough to find a sidewalk, don’t stay long. It will probably turn into a road in a few meters and leave you stranded in the middle of a roundabout. In Qatar, everyone drives everywhere. There’s no choice.

The number of Qataris with diabetes is staggering and sadly, the means to make a lifestyle switch towards healthy eating and exercise doesn’t yet exist. Here, let the NY Times fill you in.

Qatar committed over $4 billion towards new stadiums and promised that once the WC is over, they’ll dismantle two of them and donate the buildings to poorer countries. I guess that’s noble. Admittedly, the designs are stunning:

Now, we come to the biggest and most obvious issue with having the World Cup in the desert. – Weather. The summer is hot. Intolerably hot. The dusty summer wind rushes in your face and stings your eyes. It feels like one thousand blow dryers aimed right at your face. I spent two summers there and barely went outside. All you want to do is get from one air conditioned space to another, as fast as possible.

It’s just too damn hot.

To remedy this, the bid team plans to air condition the stadiums to accommodate players and fans. FIFA raised concerns last week, saying that while Qatar can air condition a stadium, they can’t air condition an entire country.

I wouldn’t put it past the Qataris to air condition an entire country. It’s 2022! No one will care about the environment in the future! What carbon footprint?

At least hot and sweaty football fans will be able to hydrate in the beer tents. Qatar’s World Cup will definitely have beer tents! The country’s royal family has proven they’ll shirk their value system to accommodate the Westerners. Anything for FIFA.

The next eleven years are going to be insane.

How the hell did this happen?

I have a tumblrblog now

2010-10-28T14:47:00.002+03:00

Sometimes I post things over there. Today, I wrote about Rob Ford. I think the next four years are going to be fun.

http://hackthebone.tumblr.com/post/1422966190/looking-on-the-bright-side-im-going-to-stop

Grown up activites: An evening with John Stackhouse

2010-10-22T21:15:00.003+03:00

Last night, I went to an event hosted by the Canadian Journalism Project: Newspapers – the Strategic Generation. John Stackhouse, editor in chief, the Globe and Mail/General McDreamboat, was interviewed by Ira Basen, journalist, CBC Radio.

Stackhouse was there to talk about the much ballyhooed Globe and Mail redesign and the future of print media in Canada.

It was an interesting evening. The crowd was mostly made up of bright-eyed J-school students and curmudgeonly journalists (I gathered this from the Q&A session and the number of wool scarves in the room). Stackhouse and Basen talked for about 45 minutes, and the remaining 40 minutes or so was filled with questions from the peanut gallery.

Full disclosure – I love the Globe and all things beautiful, so I’m a fan of the redesign. Have you seen the Weekend Style section? It’s smooth and silky and colourful and expensive looking. Made from the world’s finest pulp! Plus, the G&M employs Stephen Brunt and Jeff Blair, what’s not to love?
So yes, I was there to fan girl a little bit. Stackhouse, though he came off as a slightly robotic and completely humourless, remains a captivating Canadian figure. He’s so young to be in his position, and while I’ve heard he can be standoffish to employees and generally difficult to work for, you have to respect his big, pulsating brain and career trajectory.

Basen and Stackhouse touched on a lot of the things I’d been wondering about – The Globe and Mail’s business model, the difference between American and Canadian newspaper markets, the revamped website, moderating online comments, and the globe’s target audience to name a few. If you elaboration any of these, just ask. I have copious notes! Nerd nerd NERD.

Random thoughts

- Stackhouse has had lots of time to shape and massage the language about the redesign and I noticed that the messaging always came back to quality. The Globe is quality. Its ultimate strategy is to pursue quality in print, journalism, advertising and readership.

- Quality in readership . Ohhhh the Globe. With the air of a man who breathes elitism, Stackhouse said that the Globe is interested in reaching affluent, educated and influential Canadians. Unapologetic snobbery.

- Later, Stackhouse was asked whether he believes that the media plays a role in shaping Canadian public policy. He answered that the media guides important public conversations, which in turn shape public policy. It left me wondering how much of Stackhouse’s own beliefs directly shape policy in Canada. I may have just been drunk on his power fumes, but whatever.

What else happened? There was a long questions and answer period. I was impressed that most of the questions were actually questions. People made their point and made it quickly. Of course, there were one or two ambling nerd alerts who used their turn at the mic to air personal grievances with the Globe. The moderator asked a few people to get to their point, and cut one man off entirely. This fellow evidently filed a human rights complaint against the Globe years ago and was there to give Stackhouse a piece of his mind. That moment of tension was diffused quickly – the gentleman (whose name escaped me, and if anyone knows, I’d love to hear it – he’s just the sort of guy I’d Google on a Friday afternoon) knew he was defeated, and left the auditorium, though not before passing out pamphlets telling his story. I didn’t get one.**Sidebar – buddy was drinking afterwards at the reception. I locked eyes with him for a second and not to sound like a total try hard, but I could see a lifetime of indignation written all over his face. I’ve been through my share of nonsense; I wonder what people see that when they look at me. That fuct me up for a few minutes.

My other favourite Q&A moment came when a reporter (maybe a digital strategist/who cares) for EYE Weekly asked about the Globe’s mobile app. He wanted to know what percentage of content from the website is included in the application. Really? You can ask the editor of “Canada’s national newspaper” anything you want, and you ask about statistics? GTFO. Stackhouse coughed up something about how the most popular stories are chosen, and we moved on.

Oh and because I know Toronto people care, one of the audience members asked Stackhouse about his decision to pull the controversial “Rob Ford is fat” article and the ethical dilemma (word used incorrectly, j-school student) of censoring news.**The article in question, written by Stephen Marche (who claims to have since been fired from the Globe) said that mayoral candidate Rob Ford isn’t popular despite his weight; he’s popular because of it. People were outraged, I guess, and the article vanished from the globeandmail.com (You can read the full piece here: http://www.openfile.ca/blog/topics/toronto-votes/2010/globe-calls-ford-fat-then-disappears-evidence)

Stackhouse responded by saying the article fell short of a number of Globe standards. He personally made the decision to pull the piece, knowing that it would generate even more controversy. Stackhouse said that the ethical conundrum lay in how to best communicate internal decisions to readers – he admitted they don’t have a good way of doing so. He didn’t seem too concerned with Marche’s future. Not his problem, I suppose.

So that’s about it. I’m on one of those personal and professional betterment war paths, so I’m trying to attend a lot of events like this. Let me know if you hear of any and I’ll geek out with you for the night.

Someone told me to start taking myself more seriously, and uh…. I’m doing that. Now please to enjoy a Christmas cat GIF.

The most fun I’ve had reading in ages

2010-05-12T21:36:00.000+03:00

It all started with a tweet.

Isn’t that always the case these days?

My two-time drink partner and forever girl crush Deborah Campbell (recently nominated for a Canadian magazine award for this article) linked to an article: A veteran journalist offers advice to a young journalist.

It’s a wicked read. Don’t have time to peruse? Here’s the gist of her advice:

Don’t go to journalism school. Don’t try to join the ranks. It will ruin you.

BUT

If you insist….do it the right way. Don’t be a sissy. Live. Read the best journalism pieces you can get your hands on.

This is the piece she linked to, and the article I urge you to read.

I finished minutes ago and peeled my ass off the balcony to link it…hard. Sure, the article is a few years old. Don’t matter. It’s timeless.

Pat Dollard’s War on Hollywood from Vanity Fair

Competely worth the 56 pages of company paper you may need to bring it home.

Went to my usual reading spot this evening and couldn’t move.

Holla reading spot, you'll be missed too.

It’s about 40 degrees at nighttime in Doha these days, but once I started sweating, wrapped a block of ice in a paper towel and poured it over my head, neck and face, ridding myself of the desperate need to move indoors.

But this isn’t about me

Read it. Have fun. It might not make you a better person, but I promise you’ll love it.

The cool down

2010-05-12T10:16:00.002+03:00

Just a few days remain in my Arabian adventure. I’m in a whirlwind of sorts, there’s much to do and very little time. So obviously, as I master my ostrich impression, I’ll write a fragmented blog post.

And so begins my Toronto-centric relocation. To my Doha readers, I apologize for the shift Hack the Bone is about to take. It can’t be helped, I’m moving back to the CoTU (centre of the universe).

G20 relocates Jays-Phillies Series to Philadelphia

They really did it. Halladay won’t be coming to Toronto this summer.

Upon hearing the news, I was all “road trip! Let’s party in Philly,” but then I remembered how the world’s most influential people are going to be in Toronto. It’s going to be madness! Am I the only one excited to see the kind of stealth operations that go down?

So the Jays won’t be here, but who’s to say we can’t have baseball? Wouldn’t it be awesome to organize a day of baseball at Christie Pits? We can get Toronto’s best amateur clubs to play in a tourney or something, dress them in Jays and Phillies gear and let the disappointed fans enjoy a mass picnic/tailgate in the sunshine. If I had the energy and connections to organize this, I’d be all over it.

It’s a nice thought, at least.

Canadian Weather

Canadian Summer = desert winter. I’m a little frightened.

Remember that episode of the Simpsons when Homer drinks Grandpa’s love elixir for the first time? He and Marge are in bed, all post-coital like and Homie says:

“Where are my pants?”

“You threw them out the window in a fit of passion. You said you were never going to need them again.”

That’s exactly what I did with my winter clothes before moving here.

Doha Goodbyes…

….are HORRIBLE. The worst. With Doha friends, it’s like “we’ll get together the next time I’m in London or Melbourne or Brittany or San Francisco or Edinburgh….see you never!!!” I’m emotionally drained and there's still four more days of this.

I’m really going to miss everybody.

Banksy in Toronto

Every white person’s favourite artist made an appearance in Toronto this week. Torontoist was the first to publish photos of Banksy’s work and soon the papers followed suit. The Globe and Mail, never to miss out on hipness (hey look, we’re hanging with Bono and Bob Geldolf hahaha) published an article on the “art versus vandalism” argument that Banksy's work ignites.

Honestly, I thought his art was already in Toronto. Remember those grey and white people with vespa heads that were plastered around Toronto? Not Banksy? They’re actually an ad campaign? All right then.

I think lots of what Banksy does is cool, but there was one thing about his Toronto visit that irked me.

This:

Torontoist didn’t confirm it was him, but whatever. Let’s go with it, so I have something at which to shake my fist.

Banksy wrote ‘TAKE THAT,’ on a branch that fell and landed on a parked car.

I guess Banksy was trying to say that the idea was the owner of the car deserved what was coming to him/her. Anyone who can afford to buy a Mercedes (is it a Mercedes, right?) must be deserving of public scorn and ridicule.

Look, if I worked hard enough and bought myself a Mercedes and some judgmental millionaire artist laughed at my misfortune when a tree crashed on it, I think my head would explode.

Seriously, maybe the owner of that car donates more money to charity than Banksy every year. Maybe she just left her dying mom in the hospital and had to walk to her car to discover that not only was it damaged, some anonymous punk thought it necessary to rub it in. Maybe she’s actually a good person who didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

Someone needs to stand up for the rich lady. To me, this tree job is a classic dick move.

Stick to wall drawings, Banksy. You’re actually kind of mean.

The Regent Park facades were better anyway.

Things I read on the Internet

2010-04-27T13:55:00.005+03:00

As the title suggests, this is a post about things I read on the Internet.

New York magazine cover story on Sarah Palin

New York Magazine’s latest cover story is available in its entirety online. NY Mag is cool like that.

Hey, how mad is everyone going to be when the NY Times actually starts charging for online stories? Have they announced a timeline for this? I can’t imagine it going over well with the Internet generation aka the gimmegimmes aka the we ain’t payin for shit Arthur Ochs Sulzberger Jrs. (That’s the name of the Times Chairman. I had to Google him. Wouldn’t you?)

Would you look at that? It took me all of one sentence to veer off on a tangent. This post isn’t going to go well.

ANYWAY. Sarah Palin. Nope, still not sick of her.

It’s not that Palin the person interests me anymore. What’s continually fascinating is the media’s ongoing and obsessive coverage of her. It can’t stop, won’t stop, party until dawn.

The 24/7 Palin watch is getting ridiculous, but I think there’s an explanation. To bump up fledgling magazine sales, it’s become mandatory for every publication ever to write a Palin-centric cover story. I’m pretty sure she was featured recently on the cover of Truck & Driver magazine.

It’s real!

This month, it’s New York’s turn. Ever avant-garde, the writers at New York approached their story from a new angle – the successful Palin brand.

In case you couldn’t tell, that thing I said about the new angle? That thing right there? Tongue firmly in cheek.

Maybe it’s because I’ve read so much about Palin, that the stories are meshing into one big expose, but there’s a lot of repetition between pieces. A common element I find is the journalist’s insistence on reminding us of her astronomic popularity and how she generates revenue for the media.

From New York: “Though Palin may not like it, she makes money for Democrats and Republicans alike. Across the political spectrum, Palin is a ratings magnet. Whenever she appears on Fox News, ratings tick up by 10 to 15 percent. At MSNBC, she’s also a ratings phenomenon, albeit with opposite adjectives. Tina Fey’s reprisal of her Palin character in early April juiced Saturday Night Live’s ratings, beating prime-time programming, a rare feat. Online, right-wing sites like the Drudge Report frequently plug Palin headlines, while Palin’s presence at liberal outlets like the Huffington Post and Talking Points Memo routinely sparks hundreds of reader comments.”

The next sentence should read, “…and my editor here at New York Magazine is really hoping the web hits generated by this story will buy him his summer home.”

Come on, big money!

Omar Khadr

Omar Khadr’s trial finally FINALLY starts soon (if you count July as soon.) I’ve said it before, but this shit show is a national embarrassment. The Khadr trial will be the biggest and most interesting international news stories to come out of Canada in my lifetime. I hope Canadians pay attention. The CBC has an excellent recap of Khadr’s situation you should check out. The Globe and Mail (and other papers, I'm sure) has a journo stationed in Guantamo for the trial. Coverage should be top notch, so follow along. Form an opinion. Fight with me about it and I’ll buy you a beer.

The Rumpus

Man, The Rumpus is good. Here’s a one-two punch of excellent essays for you to print out and enjoy:

1. All We Read Is Freaks – essential for book nerds

2. The Eyes of Texas Are upon You – immigration. Interesting to everyone. Especially you, Meg.

The Doha Debates

Now I’m going to talk about something I did in real life. Sometimes I do things that don’t involve a computer. I know.

Last night, I was invited to a taping of the Doha Debates. This is a huge score; these tickets are not an easy get.

What’s the Doha Debates? Why it’s only the most popular weekend programme on the BBC network! It’s like, a super big fancy pants deal. The Doha Debates is a traditional debate show where the intellectual elite meet to square off in a battle of verbiage. Sometimes they yell. Rhetoric really is a lost art.

Last night’s motion was a good one: the house believes Barack Obama is too weak to make peace in the Middle East.

The motion carried.

As a former debate nerd, I had to vote against the motion, no matter my beliefs. The opposition had a harder position to argue and did a better job of staying on message and verbally bitch slapping their opponent. Ninety per cent of audience questions were asked by Arabs, so the result was biased, in my opinion. Don’t hate me.

On a more vapid note, as I sat there watching the eggheads work; I was struck with an excellent summertime idea. It’s actually a drinking game idea. I’m going to call it the first annual debate-beer-wrassle off. *
*Calling it the first annual means it’s sure to happen again and again. Every event organizer person knows that trick. Also, the name is negotiable because that one kind of sucks.

The debate-beer-wrassle off* is a four-person game, with a fifth player acting as mediator. Teams of two are selected randomly.

First, you have a neutral party decide on a debate topic.
Note – considering players will likely be drunk at the beginning of this game; there will be no debating the Israel-Palestine conflict or some such sort. Fluff or bust. Potential topics include, but are not limited to:

The house believes the Olympic Games are a waste of money

The house believes Toronto Sports teams are cursed

The house believes Demi Moore hasn’t had any work done; she’s just a total bitch

The house believes there will be an Arrested Development movie produced within the decade

The House believes Meredith can deliver her closing arguments while walking around the house carrying her partner fireman style

Hipsters don't actually exist. They're an idea made up by yuppies

Those could probably use some tinkering.

The teams have 20 minutes to prepare their argument. Debate ensues. After the arguments and subsequent rebuttals are delivered, the neutral party decides on a winner. The losing team then has an opportunity to redeem themselves by chugging beer and winning the feats of strength that follow.

Feats of strength include wrestling (Greco-roman, Sumo or Jake the Snake Roberts, whatever your pleasure), barefoot races, and push up contests.

Doesn’t that sound like fun?

It’s a mental and physical fight to the death!! Who’s with me? I’m thinking Canada Day long weekend for the first tournament.

Aaaaaand that’s how you turn a quasi-respectable blog post into a drinking game.

I have news

2010-04-17T09:22:00.000+03:00

I’m moving back to Toronto.

Bah!!

I wrote an explanation yesterday, but my computer ate it. Here’s the ADD version of why I’m leaving Qatar.

It’s Shanghai’s fault. I travelled and remembered how I need to live in a proper city to feel normal.
It was time to leave my job. The universe gave me an exit and I took it. I’ll work for another month, and then it’s go time.
DKM may have some news too. Inquiring minds should ask him about that directly.
Why write it when it’s already been sung?

I’ve had a wonderful time in Doha. This nutty little country has been my home for 16 months. It will be hard to leave the incredible people here. I will just have to throw one hell of a goodbye party.

Thanks Qatar. It’s been real, it’s been fun. Toronto – you’re mine.

Now let’s get back to the biziness at hand – writing silly things about silly things.

All your book are belong to me -- updated!

2010-04-08T09:51:00.004+03:00

Twitter triumph! There's a shit ton of books coming my way. Living in the desert and having no life is kind of awesome sometimes.

The best part of this exercise? I know who recommended each book. If it sucks you better believe they’ll hear about it. If you sent me something and it's not on the list, it's because I've read it. Catch-22 is excellent.

The books that'll mess me up in the coming months are...

Liars’ Club – Mary Karr

A Spot of Bother - Mark Haddon

Unseen Academicals – Terry Pratchett

The Bullpen Gospels – Dirk Hayhurst

On Boxing – Joyce Carol Oates

Ask the Dust/Wait Until Spring, Bandini/Dreams from Bunker Hill – John Fante

7. Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole

Straight Man - Richard Russo

Microserfs - Douglas Coupland

Love is a Dog From Hell - Charles Bukowski

Bastards and Boneheads - Will Ferguson

Open: An Autobiography - Andre Agassi

The Game - Ken Dryden

My Life in and out of the Rough: - John Daly

Unaccustomed Earth: Stories - Jhumpa Lahiri

Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game - Michael Lewis

Interpreter of Maladies - Jhumpa Lahiri

Batman: Year One - Frank Miller

Monkey Beach: A Novel - Eden Robinson

Special Topics in Calamity Physics - Marisha Pessl

   The Angel's Game - Carlos Ruiz Zafón

   Sorry about the piss poor formatting. I don't know anything about anything.

Return to Greatness

2010-04-06T19:22:00.020+03:00

**post by DKM**

I’m sorry it had to be Butler. I’m sorry it had to be the hometown school with a student population of less than 4000. I’m sorry it had to be a team full of hard-working, yet baby-faced players. I’m sorry it had to be the team for whom I have cheered for in every other round of this year’s tournament. I'm sorry for Blue II.

But it had to be someone, and I’m not sad Butler lost. As a result, the one sports team I follow who is actually perennially successful, surpassed being just among the elite. Second to none. Champs! Despite all the haters.

It’s no secret Duke has a whole lot of haters out there. Most of them wear that faggy baby blue colour though, and they should be discounted from all consideration. Any team that wins a national championship one year and fails to qualify for the tournament the next is a joke. A really funny joke.

I have no doubt all the haters will eternally criticize Duke’s flawless run in this year’s tourney.Sure, they may have had the easiest bracket. But what the hell does seeding mean anyhow? IfButler can come within 3 inches of hitting a game winning basket for the championship then it’s clear, seeding means squat. Just ask Northern Iowa. The team who plays the best, most consistent basketball over 6 games wins. And that is no small feat.

I can’t really remember when or why I started liking Duke. I know that in 5^th grade I went to National Sports and bought a Blue Devils hat. You know the kind, circa 1995, snap-back, pinstripes, cursive writing.

Yup. Just like that.

I know that despite never wanting to be a doctor, never having had ivy-league like grades, nor never playing competitive basketball, as I entered high school I believed I was going to go to Duke. I know that in 10^th grade, on a family trip to Florida we visited Duke’s campus. We did the whole thing with a dorky tour guide: the mess hall, the chapel, the university hospital. It turns out not everyone on the tour just wanted to go to Cameron Indoor. Like a museum, a zoo or even a theme park, the tour conveniently ended at the university store, where I proceeded to buy as much swag as I could get my hands on, some of which I still own to this day.

I also remember that when considering a move to an unnamed country in the Gulf prior to grade 12, I was given a tour of a school by a princess of said country. During a bit of small talk she told me she was going to Duke in the fall. Meeting a royal in an abundantly rich nation didn’t impress me. Going to Duke in the fall?!? I was in awe. I definitely asked her more questions about Duke than about the school we were touring.

Then came University. Surprise! I didn’t end up at Duke. In first year at UWO, I came to the realization that March Madness would be spent planted on the couch, moving only to get beer. I would not be painting my face blue and white and hopping up and down in Cameron Indoor.Duke. Tobias Funke's favorite school.

As a consolation for my choice of Uni, I met Mere...And so began her lifelong support of Duke-by-association. She still thinks they’re just a bunch of nameless white boys.

My nutty roommate managed to get free cable in our dorm in March 2004. It was some sort of promotion where if you signed up, you got the first month free. I don’t know what EVER gave the cable company the impression that a bunch of broke-ass students living in a dorm weren’t going to cancel it the day they moved out of the dorms, but that’s not for here nor there. We had TV. And it was March. My essay on Jane Austen’s “Emma” (not my choice) might have been handed in two weeks late, but at least I took pride in introducing many people from residence to March Madness. I showed them how to fill out a bracket, and told them it looked ugly if they didn’t have Duke going all the way.

Unfortunately that year, like most, my will alone couldn’t crown Duke champs. Duke lost in the final seconds of a close game in the Final Four. Meredith was of great support after Duke blew their game-long lead and were booted from a return to the finals. She was genuinely awesome, suggesting things like “oh honey, I know you’re upset. Wanna make out?” and “How about I get you some keg beer?” What a doll.

Over the 6 years since, Mere and I always looked forward to filling out a bracket together. Despite winning a couple pools over that time, I was never fulfilled, as Duke got knocked out either during or before the Sweet 16. Five years in a row. And somehow winning the annual ACC tournament (which is practically a slamdunk deal – no pun intended) just doesn’t cut it if you can’t get more than three games deep in the tourney.

Chalk one up for the haters.

It didn’t help that North Carolina went out and won a couple championships in that span. Life could not get much worse for a Dukie.

The massive amount of Blue Devils clothing I accumulated over the last 10 years was growing tatty, and was worn with diminishing pride.

But this year, something felt different. Certain things couldn’t be ignored. All of a sudden this year, Zoubek was able to stay off crutches. Role players played their role. Smith more than doubled his average point total from last year. Scheyer was now the senior guard and no longer under the shadow of others. Singler turned out to be everything the Duke faithful hoped he would when recruited. And Coach K coached the fuck out of them.

Of course, all the haters still said they’d choke. Journalists encouraged fans to support the underdogs and spit on the contenders. The Butler bandwagon got really crowded.

Haters 2, Dukies 0.

Thankfully for me, Duke saved their best basketball for the end of the tournament, and truly deserved their first title since 2001. And it feels amazing. I’m now inspired to pass on my middle name, Keay, to one of my future children. But I’m just gonna spell it K.
(Meredith Ed Note. WHAT?)

Hate if you’re gonna hate, haters, but to all the Duke fans out there, kick back and enjoy this.

The Dukies executed down the stretch and overcame the Haters two-point lead for the win.

All your book are belong to me

2010-04-06T16:34:00.001+03:00

I’m about to file an Amazon book order that’ll keep me occupied until summer. Before I do, I’d like to ask a little help from my friends.

A plea!

Send me your favourite book recommendations. What’s that horrible Kevin Spacey movie…? Pay it forward. Send me the good stuff that moved you. Tip me off to something you loved and if I love it I’ll worship you forever.

I should probably tell you how much I enjoy a good humorist, that the writers of the 1920s absolutely slay me (in the good way), I love a suicidal female (Julia Stiles optioned the Bell Jar for a film – does that mean she’s playing Esther? Oh my god someone stop the madness) and am actively looking for the best sports books ever written.

I should tell you these things, but I won’t. If you’re mad for something and take the effort to post about it here, I’ll read it. However, please try to keep me out of the Qatar censor’s office.

Warp my brain. Pleaaase Here's what's in the Amazon cart so far....

Liars’ Club – Mary Karr

A Spot of Bother - Mark Haddon

Unseen Academicals – Terry Pratchett

The Bullpen Gospels – Dirk Hayhurst

On Boxing – Joyce Carol Oates

Ask the Dust/Wait Until Spring, Bandini/Dreams from Bunker Hill – John Fante

7. Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole

Blog post for IRL friends

2010-04-06T14:47:00.001+03:00

…because anyone who’s never met me won’t care.

Hi friends! Remember when I used to blog about my life? Do you miss that? What? No, there aren’t any Canseco updates. Shut up and listen to me talk about myself.

What’s new? I was in China. I’d love to tell you lots about it, but there are things hindering me…

1. 1.) How do you catch a moonbeam and hold it in your hand?

2. 2.) This is not a travel blog. Travel blogs are booooo-ring. We met a few eternal travellers in Beijing and is it just me, or does anyone who’s ever travelled think their experiences are more profound and important than everyone else’s. They aren’t. And then they make you feel small when you haven't been to the same places as them. It's like "oh, I'm sorry noooo. I haven't been to the secret waterfall in Kuala Lumpur where the fish sing Aretha Franklin songs that is only accessible via three overnight trips on a llama and seven days spent earning the village elder Big Donny's trust by sleeping with his goat herd". Snobs.

Anyway, our trip wasn’t so much about the travel experience as it was acting the fool.

Our Chinese priorities:

1. Forget your name and where you came from

2. See the Great Wall

A personal highlight of the trip was when we convinced the staff at the JW Marriott to let us suntan, drink and smoke on the private roof of the hotel. We wore bathrobes. The deck, which could only be reached by passage through a secret bookcase (the lit nerd in me exploded) was on the 60^th floor and had the most incredible view of the city.

While my sleep-deprived companions were basking in the sun’s warm glow, I went back through the bookcase and stood in the middle of the world’s highest library. It was awesome. Think Beauty & the Beast, but smaller and with Chinese literature.

This was the best photo I could find. Fack.

I stood on the book ladder and wheeled it across the walls, then stood in the centre of the room and spun around and around just like Belle. A moment later, a hotel staff member entered the room. He spoke no English, but I could tell he was down so I mimed to him to show me the best book in the room. He immediately went to the top shelf and pulled down an massive, ancient looking, jewel-adorned book fastened with eye-hooks. He gingerly opened the latches and passed it to me. It was all in Chinese and though I had no idea what was written (it was probably the Twilight saga); I knew that whatever was inside was life changing. I looked at the Chinese man and said, “wooooowwwww.” He looked back at me, eyes shining, smiling. It was a moment.

Then I went back to the patio and chugged a vodka soda. Moment over.

Shanghai is the most amazing city I’ve ever seen. It looks like the future. Coming back to Doha (a city not without its merits) after ten days of gogogopartypartyparty sucks.

Shanghai < Doha

It’s okay though, DKM is here.

Speaking of DKM...

DUKE.

How happy is DKM? Kiiiiiiind of happy. I asked him to write a blog post on his feelings (haha) about Duke, but you know how that usually works out. Radio silence.

Sometimes when I use the Internet to call him out, he does what I want.

Canseco replied

2010-03-28T10:20:00.000+03:00

I love it sounds exciting let's do it call me 818 *** ****

A man of few words. Respect.

This is so much better than a Rory McIlroy photobomb.

I want to change into my pyjamas, paint my nails and call him. Is that weird? We have so much in common, there’s heaps of stuff we could gab about - testosterone levels, fight training, competing subpoenas - normal people things.

If you were me, would you actually call? With the right script and liquid courage, I might be able to do this. For you. I'd do anything for my faceless friends on the Internet.

E-mails to Jose Canseco

2010-03-25T15:52:00.000+03:00

Jose Canseco is on twitter. This is not hyperbole - his account is the best of all time.

I am obsessed.

Jose's account is verified, which means it’s actually him (no repeating the Levi Johnston fiasco; that was embarrassing).

Canseco, after a lifetime of squandering monies and burning bridges, is reduced to soliciting job offers, appearance requests, and pretty much anything from an army of 400,000 twitter followers just waiting to fuck with him. It’s funny, it's sad, but it's funnier than it is sad, in my opinion.

Oh, and just so you know, Canseco replied to my messages three times. THREE. Try and visualize Canseco using his fat fingers to punch out THREE replies to one @meredithwrogers. I’m internet famous.

In case you aren’t following the action, here’s a taste of the gold Jose lays down:

Email me jc7264@yahoo.com I want to have my own radio or tv sports talk show. If u can finance it or want to hire me I can sky rocket rating

I love golf and everything tiger does can't wait to read his book I would call it the studdddd

Tiger woods I love him he's the man. He's also human well maybe superhuman even I couldn't handle so many girls. Pimp daddy s

I am on the toilet thinking about writing a third book

B e careful with the irs they r coming down hard on people

@meredithwrogers. Sounds good **Ed note this was in response to my offer to be his new agent

Who is interested in spending the day with me and seeing what my life is about.

1000 per day we can do anything if interested in spend a daY with jose email me at jc7264@yahoo.com

Like I said, gold.

Since Jose posted his email online, I wrote him a quick note. My objective? A selfless offer to help him start a lifecast. I’ve never seen a lifecast, but I hung out on google for 15 seconds and now consider myself an expert.

Writing Canseco? Am I delusional? Possibly, but I read somewhere that people who are self-amused live long and happy lives.

Anyway, here’s the e-mail. Will let you know when he responds (haha). Hope he doesn’t file a restraining order. As Canseco would say, stay tooned....

March 25, 2010

To the desk of:
Mr. Jose Canseco
Sports Superstar
Los Angeles, California

Dear Mr. Canseco,

On Thursday April 8, 2010 at 1:00 pm, one Jose Canseco will make history….again.

You sir, will testify in front of a grand jury to speak on the alleged steroid use of some of major league baseball’s biggest superstars, in particular, Roger Clemens. While this isn’t your first time at the okay corral, the ramifications of your testimony are monumental. All sports fans, nay, the world will be watching that day.

But you already knew that. Let’s talk about what you may not know.

Let’s talk about your twitter feed. I’ve followed your tweets for some time now and must say, your candid and insightful tweets are among the most entertaining on the Internet. I can’t say they are the most entertaining, as who could try and compete with the profundity of one Justin Bieber?

I digress (Justin Bieber always gives me pause, apologies).

Your upfront approach to the twitterverse is infectious. I imagine your tweeting style is a grand metaphor for the way you attack your opponent in a mixed martial arts fight.

You simultaneously respond to the haters (as you so eloquently call your dissuaders) and give fans a glimpse at the softer side of Jose Canseco. I draw your attention to the tweet sent on March 21st:

RT@JoseCanseco: I need ideas on how to make my girlfriend not mad at me!

Chivalrous. Heartwarming. There are no other words.

Knowing your predilection for social media, I write with an opportunity. An opportunity with the potential to shower dolla dolla bills upon your home.

Who am I? About time you asked.

My name is Meredith Rogers and I am an ambassador of the lifecast.

What’s a lifecast, you ask? Lifecasting is a continual broadcast of events in a person's life through digital media. In other words, you video tape yourself 24 hours a day and people can pay a membership fee to access to your stream.

Lifecasting is a very lucrative business and a public figure like you could, I believe, attract hundreds of thousands of viewers per day. I saw you on the Surreal Life, Jose. You’re a laugh a minute. I mean, if a girl like JenniCam can attract millions of hits, just IMAGINE the kind of numbers a man like Jose Canseco could bolster. You know what we call traffic like that on the Internet, Jose? We call it making it rain.

The best part about a lifecast is that you wouldn’t even have to do anything! You can live life as usual, accompanied by an audience of curious onlookers. You played baseball! You're used to a bunch of losers scrutinizing your every move. You got this.

Mr Canseco, I have your best interests at heart. As a fan and an important person on the Internet, I am willing to connect you with lifecasting executives who would jump at the chance to work with you. I will conduct all of our business together pro bono. I’m merely a fan of entertainment and want to watch while you sleep.

I’m available to discuss this exciting possibility at any time. Look forward to speaking with you and starting this fruitful relationship.

Sincerely,

Meredith Rogers
Future Lifecaster. Friend.

My personal pop culture rules

2010-03-02T13:30:00.000+03:00

**Ed Note: here’s the article from the excellent AV Club that inspired this post.

AV Club reader query:

What are your pop-culture rules? That is, the up-front guidelines that will prevent you from seeing/reading/listening to something, or that will guarantee that you’ll see/read/listen to it even if reviews or word of mouth or past experience with the creators have been negative?

My response:

First, I’m only going to talk about things I will or won’t see. Books and music require a separate post that will never be written. With that in mind…

Like the person who abides by them, my pop culture rules are nuanced and ever-changing. Because I’m crusty, I put more thought into the list of things I won’t see/listen to than things I will. Stephen Brunt says cynicism is easy. He’s right.

Things I won’t watch

Ben Stiller everything. Did you know he has 14 films in development? Clearly, the world does not agree.

vampire everything. It’s okay, vampire hysteria is just a phase - an exceptionally long and painful phase. Right?

Period dramas. Booooring and they make me want to spend ridc money on a corset dress. That’s not practical.

Slasher flicks. Upsetting in the bad way.

Bathroom Humour. I’m Catholic, we don’t talk about that stuff.

Overly intellectualized films. Example - the Coen Brothers’ A Serious Man. What are you trying to say? Just say it already. People who try to make other people feel stupid can peace out. A few years ago, this entry wouldn’t appear here, but time changes you. It’s like how one year ago I was bothered by the Nepalese/Indian labourers who stare at me when I walk past. Now, I’m happy to let them take a good, long look. They have it tough and don’t get to see ladies on the regular. Plus, I’d check me out too. But ANYWAY.

A promise of non-stop hijinks. For why the nonstop hijinks? Hijinks need to stop and let realism work its magic on our wimpy human hearts. Hijinks without realism = calamity. A recent example of a calamity movie is The Hangover. Too many tigers, not enough oh, I care about these characters.

Will absolutely, positively watch a movie/TV show with these elements/actors in it:

-Will Arnett . Hilarious. Dreamy. Leafs fan.

-Philip Seymour Hoffman. We fell in love with Scent of a Woman and haven’t looked back since.

-John C. Reilly. Someone removed all of the Steve Brule clips from YouTube. Cruel!

-Meryl Streep. She doesn’t make mistakes. Even It’s Complicated was cute.

-Milo and or Otis

-Rhett Butler

-This cat's entire canon:

-Norm MacDonald. This applies especially to YouTube clips of Norm on talk shows. Start here. I cry laughing every time.

-Pixar

My most important rule is that if something comes recommended at the urging of a dear friend, I will watch it. If I love you and you really love something I'm on it, even if it’s a calamity-filled Ben Stiller period drama about vampires.

And that’s that….until my mind changes.

Hey so the Oscars are on this weekend. How about this year, we skip the whole Oscar pool farce and you just wire me some money. Sound good?

Let's do this

2010-02-28T11:21:00.002+03:00

I'm ready.

Thanks to @sknox40 for the photo. She doesn't let a little national rivalry stand in the way of awesome photoshop skills. This made my day.

I was born ready. Maple glazed EVERYTHING for dinner tonight. Caesar waterfalls. Ugly Canadian pyjamas. Let's dooooooo this. PUMPED.

Olympic Spirit

2010-02-22T13:16:00.002+03:00

“What passes for hip cynical transcendence of sentiment is really some kind of fear of being really human, since to be really human … is probably to be unavoidably sentimental and naïve and goo-prone and generally pathetic.”
— David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest

Right, David Foster Wallace? Thank you for reminding us that it’s okay to like things without irony. Passion, people. Passion!!

Speaking of, how about that Olympic hockey? I did the whole wake up at 3:30 am thing to watch Canada lose to the stinking Yanks. Here's hoping we meet them again in the medal round. That'd be the bizness.

Someone on my twitter wrote that she’s going to go all Tonya Harding on Ryan Miller in Vancouver. And I’m like, yes! If we can’t win fairly the most deceitful way is next best. We want that medal.

Random Olympic thoughts

It is hard to cheer against Ovechkin, but I’m doing it. Although, I have no shame in saying his hit on Jagr was the sex.

Next!

Teeeeeeemu Selanneeeeeee will be handsome forever.

Next!

Jon Montgomery (great Scottish name) is singlehandedly making gingers hot

Next!

Keith Law asked a question of his twitter flock recently. Lindsey Vonn: Pretty or Olympics pretty?

Keith Law: Painfully average or TV ugly?

I don’t want to hate on Keith. He read Ulysses. I’m a fan of bookish jock types. BUT when first reading his tweet, the feminist in me got all fist-shaky. Men feel they have the right to judge a woman’s appearance right to her face, or in this case, via tweet. Then I remembered how I talk about hot dudes and their faces/bodies all the time and how I’m in no position to judge Keith Law.

I also talk about ugly dudes.

Which reminds me, when they showed Michael Phelps in the crowd at today’s game, I thought for a second it was Jim from the Office.

Jim is an extremely handsome man. Phelps DOES NOT look like Jim. It was 4 a.m. and the camera was playing tricks on me. Ugh, Phelps will haunt me forever, won’t he?

What's my problem with Phelps? You must be new.

Next!

Tiger Tiger Woods y’all. So he’s not an Olympian but he COULD be. If he wanted to. Though I’m quite sure he doesn’t. My favourite part of Tiger’s statement was when he talked about his sense of entitlement. Why? Because now I have reason to say things like this:

Going to soak up UV by the pool because I feel that I have worked hard my entire life and deserve to enjoy all the temptations around me.

Going to get loser drunk tonight because I feel that I have worked hard my entire life and deserve to enjoy all the temptations around me.

Going to stay up until 5 a.m. watching cat videos because I feel that I have worked hard my entire life and deserve to enjoy all the temptations around me.

Thanks, Tiger.

Next!

Canada won a non-Olympic gold medal last week. It was in debate. The finals were held in Qatar. This country is so random sometimes.

Next!

The cross-country skiing/shooting biathalon has to be the most random Olympic sport. How exactly does one discover they're among the best in the world at both long-distance skiing and rifle shooting? Mind, meet boggled..

Next!

Here’s Stephen Colbert reading Cat Fancy. High-brow elitist bastard.

Next!

Winter Olympians are all insane.

Next!

Vancouver looks incredible.

Next!

I wish I was there.

Westminster 2010 Preview

2010-02-16T13:56:00.003+03:00

Hooray for everything! It’s that time of year again. The favourite sporting event of people who hate sports (not the Olympics) - the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show airs tonight.

2010 winner, Stump

Last year, when I was job hunting and hanging around being awesome, I spent two whole days sizing up the competitors and predicting winners. Past coverage is here. I also revealed an unhealthy disdain for poodles. I’m mellower now. My poodly rage is curbed.

Now that I have a life, my coverage won’t be as thorough but I'm making time for my doggy friends.

I haven’t seen one minute of Olympic action, thanks to CTV’s insistence on making online streaming next to impossible (blerrrrrrrrrrgggggggggg). I will channel the time that SHOULD spend talking about the Olympics on the dog show. Lucky you.

What’s in store for dog lovers in 2010?

Every year, to keep things fresh, Westminster allows one or two previously unrecognized breeds to the doggy cannon. Breeds rarely win their first year out, but it’s a victory just to be included. I know, I know. That’s what losers say.

Here are 2010's new breeds:

PYRENEAN SHEPHERD

aka your most embarrassing one night stand in dog form

The Pyrenean Shepherd has been around since medieval times, but only finally managed to sleep with enough judges to warrant inclusion in 2010. It’s been a long road.

The Norwegian Buhund

aka the Shiba Inu’s annoying little sister

Look at that barrel-chest. This dog does not have a chance.

Irish Red and White Setter

aka the red and white headed stepchild

Starved for attention, the people of Ireland finally convinced Westminster judges that one Irish Setter was not enough. This dog will most certainly go home empty handed.

Last year, I encouraged readers to pick a favourite breed and throw all of their emotional support behind it. This year, I implore you to do the same. Loving things without irony is good for the soul.

My picks for this year:

Like the Academy Awards, the Westminster Dog Show risks being labeled a dinosaur in the age of ADHD and digital media. This is because nothing really changes from year to year. So, in an effort to stay with the times, I think this year’s winners will reflect the more technologically-savvy breeds.

Such as....

The Shiba Inu

Thanks to an addictive web feed, in 2009 the Shiba Inu rose from doggy obscurity to Internet superstardom. Don’t be surprised if you see the most buzz-worthy dog of the year in one of the winner’s circles.

The Brussels Griffon

I think this little guy with THAT FACE has an excellent chance of winning in 2010. Last year, Vegas picked the Griffon as odds-on favourite. Vegas was wrong. This year, Vegas picked four-year old Scottish Terrier Sadie as favourite. Sadie peed in the winner’s circle at a tournament earlier this year. My advice? Put your money on the dark horse.

HOLD THE PHONE.

I just checked the Westminster website. The event started yesterday. It’s time to stop what I was doing and comment on the winners so far. What? It’s not like I’m going to delete all of my hard work and start over. Shut up. Read on.

Toy Group

Winner: Toy Poodle

Well, duh. Stupid conniving poodles. Uh oh. The familiar rage is coming back. Best to move on quickly.

Hound Group

Winner: Whippet

I have a soft spot for whippets. When I was a child, my mom alerted me to a news article about a group of whippets bred for racing. When they were no longer able to race competitively, the dogs were either abandoned or put down by the owners. After a life of running on flat surfaces the surviving dogs were unable to walk up and down stair cases. The horror. Point of story? The whippet win is fine by me.

Non-Sporting Group

Winner: French Bulldog

While I prefer the standard bulldog, a French bulldog's win ensures a Standard Poodle's loss. So, wash.

Herding Group

Winner: Puli

Heyyy, no fair! The Puli won this group last year. I know he’s wild and crazy looking; the kind of dog you’d want to pull an all-nighter with, but would it kill you to diversify, Westminster? Boring.

My final prediction for Best in Show? Riverdance Dog.

Ladies be shoppin'

2010-02-08T14:22:00.000+03:00

You never give up on something you want badly enough. Haven’t you ever seen a movie? You have to keep going, otherwise you’re not the protagonist. Otherwise, you’re that old guy from The Shawshank Redemption who hangs himself after he gets a job in a grocery store.
-Julie Klausner

I really liked this interview.

On Tim Tebow

2010-02-05T11:19:00.004+03:00

This morning I woke up to a message from my friend Lindsay. Lindsay wants me to write out some thoughts on Tim Tebow.

While writing about abortion first thing in the morning (with a hangover, no less) isn’t the greatest idea, I have to answer to Lindsay in person next month (we’re meeting up in Shanghai, nbd) so I damn well better do what she asks.

Tim Tebow.

For anyone who doesn’t know why they should care – here’s your 10 second refresher: Tim Tebow is a young, gifted football player. Quarterback. He won the Heisman trophy in 2007. High hopes rest on his professional future. Recently, Tebow aligned himself with a pro-life organization called Focus on the Family. Through the support of private donations, Focus on the Family sponsored an ad featuring Tebow and his mother that will air during the Superbowl on Sunday. The ad allegedly features Tebow’s mother speaking on how she became ill in the early stages of her pregnancy with Tim and was advised to abort the baby. Mommy Tebow didn’t listen to her doctors and gave birth to healthy boy. A son who grew up talented, handsome and most importantly (soon to be) riiiiich.

We all make choices in life. Tebow is a public figure making choices. I like to talk about famous people who make choices.

Let’s do this.

I believe taking a stand on something. I believe in speaking out about things that matter to you.

What I do not believe in is a budding athlete choosing to speak on an issue that splits the nation during the freaking Superbowl.

In my opinion, Tim Tebow needs to keep his goddamned mouth shut.

Choosing the Superbowl as a mouthpiece is truly idiotic. It's beyond stupid. Still, I can’t bring myself to hate on Tebow that hard. He’s a 22 year-old football player. Knowing what I know about young football players, I can say with some authority that Tebow’s probably as stupid as a brick wall. As such, I suspect puppet mastery at work here *cough* mommy *cough*.

Tebow must be dealing with some seriously hare brained communications people. Hare brained and selfish communications people who are using Tebow to fuel their own agenda without considering how it’ll affect the kid’s future.

Is pro-life really your 2.5 million dollar issue, Tim? Do you want to be that guy? I wish someone with some goddamn sense could have gotten to Tebow before Focus on the Family did. A sensible person would have said to him, “Tim, you’re a great kid with a bright future. You’ve got an opportunity to influence a lot of young kids with your actions. Pick the one issue that’s most important to you and run with it.”

Tim: Okay. I think abortion is wrong.

Communications person: Um. Something to do with sports, Tim.

Tim: Ohhhh, gotcha. Right to play?

Communications crisis averted.

As soon as you align yourself with something as derisive as the pro-life/pro-choice debate, you alienate half of the country. Just like that. I heard that sponsors love athletes who speak their mind. The more contentious the issue, the better. Nike actually encourages Roger Federer to voice his feelings on the Canadian seal hunt, but Roger gets camera shy.

Which athlete (circa October 2009) was the ideal spokesperson? Tiger Tiger Woods y’all. Why? Because he didn’t say anything about anything. He just dominated his sport for a decade. Nobody knew how Tiger felt about politics.

People don’t care who celebrities vote for. People really don’t care where athletes stand on abortion.

At a time when Tebow should keep his head down and focus on his career, he’s doing exactly the opposite. It’s never a good idea to alienate potential fans or sponsors in the year before being drafted into the NHL. At least wait until AFTER you have a contract to say a bunch of stupid shit.

The reason this will affect Tebow so deeply is because the commercial was a calculated, thought-out, rehearsed communications message. If Tebow mentioned his stance on abortion as a passing comment, I wouldn’t think any less of him. While I disagree with his opinion, I respect his right to it. The fact that he wanted to speak on this issue during the Superbowl means he is fucking serious about pro-life. He is serious and wants the free world to know it. And now, Tim Tebow will forever be known as the anti-abortion guy. Idiot.

It'll be interesting to see how this plays out. Who drafts Tim and who sponsors him despite his political agenda. I think he'll be okay if he never speaks about prolife again. Move on, Tim. Silence will save you.

Hey, think we'll ever see an athlete endorsing his pro-choice beliefs at the Superbowl? Of course not, but it’s kind of funny to imagine.

"It’s why pencils have erasers!"

That was fun. Next week, we’ll talk about this:

Juuust kidding. I'm not touching that.

Thoughts on: Avatar

2010-02-03T12:39:00.002+03:00

I have no interest in seeing Avatar. It looks stupid.

Clearly, millions disagree.

My decisions to avoid Avatar is detrimental to social discourse. I have this conversation daily:

Zomg! Have you seen Avatar?

No.

L8r, geek.

The hype swirling around Avatar will not persuade me to see it. I don’t fall easily to social pressure. Case in point, I waited an entire year before seeing Titanic. Imagine the difficulties presented to a thirteen year-old girl in 1997 who hadn’t seen Titanic. It was hell. I was a Matt Damon/Good Will Hunting fan and after telling someone I wouldn’t see Titanic because Leo was a wiener, I had to stand my ground. So I watched it one year later (in secret) and I was like yeaaaa okay, he’s still kind of a wiener.

But, as usual, I digress. Here are the reasons why I won’t see Avatar:

1. 1.) James Cameron. Leader of the douche parade. Have you seen this guy?

Stop making him so rich.

2. That’s really all I’ve got. My argument is weak.

You know what would be neat? If all Avatar-loving nerds flew off to Pandora (you know they would) and left the rest of us on boring, crappy planet Earth. Earth - that dreadful place with waterfalls and rainbows and polar bears and MONKEYS THAT PLAY WITH TIGERS. Earth isn’t awesome at all.

If Avatar fiends chose to live on Pandora, that would leave earth for the rest of us to play with. It would be awesome. We’d have a substantially less annoying population, with more space for jumping and what not.

We’d hang out and watch sports and eat food and swim in our inferior oceans. And I could browse the Internet without the omnipresent possibility of running into an another Avatar meme.

If you're a non-Avatar fiend, show yourself! I want to know who I'd be hanging out with.

Please see below post for thoughts on films I’ve actually seen. That might make more sense.

Oscar Nominations

2010-02-03T12:28:00.005+03:00

While my imaginary Internet boyfriends (and some girlfriends) were freaking out over the Leafs blockbuster or Lost or cats with mittens – I hung out with online film buffs and watched Anne Hathway read this year’s Oscar nominations.

After a stellar 2008 in film and crappy Oscar telecast ratings, the Academy decided to do something different this year. Five best picture nominations wasn't satisfying everyone. Sally and Johnny were mad because the Dark Knight wasn't nominated last year. Billy and Susan didn’t watch last year's show even though the Academy invited those Twilight fellows.

This year Tom, Dick and Harry will be pleased to know that every movie released in 2009 will be nominated for best picture.

Here’s the general idea behind this year’s ten Best Picture noms: The only thing that matters is they tried hard! Every team that tries gets in! THOSE ARE THE RULES!

Ten films. Yeesh. This bold turn has left Hollywood executives sitting around the casting couch trying to determine which five films were *really* nominated.

The only good thing about having ten crappy movies up for Best Picture is that I’ve actually seen a few of them. Here are my thoughts on the films I have watched.

An Education— Beautiful. I talked about this already. It’s all about the Saaarsgaaard. Saaarsgaaaaard is hot in the same way James Spader is crazy sexy in Secretary. Nobody’s hotter than James Spader in Secretary, but Saaargaaard gives him a run for his money.

Their appeal lies in the fact that they’re average-looking guys. The kind of man you’d strike up a conversation with on the street. Three minutes later you’re in deep.

Up – Have you seen cryingwife.com? Check it out, she's hilarious. I looked like that woman during the first twenty minutes of Up. Some films have the power to heal. ß I stole that from a guy who talks about music.

In my opinion, Up deserves the Best Picture win. Good luck with that, Pixar. They’ll have to settle for Best Animated film because animation is the Rodney Dangerfield of the Oscars. No respect.

Inglourious Basterds – I’ve watched this movie twice in the last week. I watched it twice because I had food poisoning and the first viewing was blurred by crazy, but also because it was awesome. I loved loved loved this movie. Loved Christoph Waltz as Hans Landa. Oh my God. Oh my God!! Best villain ever? Definitely better than Javier Bardem abandoning his natural charms and looking uggo in No Country for Old Men. Better than, dare I say, Heath Ledger’s The Joker. Hannibal Lecter, pfffft whatever. Col. Hans Landa - best villain ever.

My only critique with Inglourious Basterds? I think the look and feel of the site is ugly.

Two people will get that.

My only real critique? Brad Pitt was miscast.

The Blind Side – I saw it and cried the whole way through. It’s not even a good movie, per say. It’s just because my heart is large and full. Doesn’t deserve a nomination.

Precious -- I’m never going to see Precious.

Note – Woody Harrelson nominated for The Messenger! Woody Boyd, you’ve arrived! Ugh, can you believe I’m still watching Cheers? There are eleven seasons; I’m on six. I seriously need to stop watching and then stop tweeting/blogging about it. So sorry.

Huuuuuunk

On to....

THE SNUBS or, the movies whose studios didn’t pony up the cash in campaign season

Your typical Academy voters:

A snub is a film who can’t get no love from me.

With ten nominations up for grabs, a snub is extra painful for studios (Harvey Wienstein) this year.

Where the Wild Things Are -- Remember one year ago when a generation preemptively declared this the front runner of the 2010 Oscars? Yeaaaa we were a little eager, eh? Regardless, this snub is a big f-u to hipsterdom everywhere. Why wasn’t WTWTA nominated? Because it sucked and the Academy hates young people. Vanity Fair explains why far better than I can, here.

Julie/Julia – ROBBED! This was the most enjoyable film of the year. That’s not subjective. My heart sang each time Meryl Streep graced the screen with her presence. Sandra Bullock’s going to win the Oscar because Lainey says everybody likes her, which is a shame. Meryl Streep made me as happy as Christoph Waltz made me uncomfortable.

Nine - Harvey Weinstein is pissed!! I haven’t seen it.

Star Trek -- I heard this was good. Didn't see it. Spock was snubbed.

The Hangover -- The Hangover won the Golden Globe, so there was speculation that the year's biggest comedy would sneak in. I'm so glad it didn't. I hated The Hangover. It was an hour and a half of calamity. Everything goes wrong! Oh poop. Calamity calamity calamity. My least favourite quality in entertainment.

Oscar night’s going to be fun, right? Morgan Freeman, the Michael Cera of old black guys (admit it, he's been playing the same role since Shawshank) is going to be there. He always brings the party.

YouTube needs to stop telling truths

2010-01-27T14:03:00.000+03:00

So my Internet world has changed a little and you know how well people take to change.

Can someone tell me when YouTube started giving explanations for your recommended videos? Seriously, what is that mess? Go look - under your recommended video is a new link that says “because you watched so and so…”

I don’t need YouTube to explain why it keeps recommending shirtless Ovechkin videos over and over again. It takes the fun out of being a creep and I’d like this feature to go away YouTube, please and thanks.

If YouTube and I were to have a conversation about it, it’d probably go something like this…

Me: Listen YouTube. I’m grateful that you unearth rare videos of athletes in various stages of undress, I really am. I’d be nothing without you. But here’s the thing – our previous situation? I was okay with that.

YouTube: And that situation was what, exactly?

Me: You recommend a video and shut up about it. Let’s go back to that.

YouTube: You don’t define the terms in this relationship. I’ve seen your browsing history – I own you.

Me: That’s a little frightening. I just liked it better when a random video of Federer changing his shirt popped up and I could pretend I had NO IDEA how it got there.

YouTube: You’re an idiot. Here’s how the whole magical, mysterious recommended video thing works: my recommendations are based solely on your viewing history.

Me: I know that!! I know it. But before…it was just easier for me to ignore that point.

YouTube: You like watching interviews with shirtless athletes! I KNOW THESE THINGS AND YOU CAN’T HIDE. Creep. I’m going to call your fiancé.

Me: Self-righteous cyborg!! Two can play at this game. So maybe I can’t see your viewing history, but I can totally figure out what you’re into….. Let’s see. You’re YouTube. Your interests include being non-human and judging faithful users. Knowing this, HERE’S MY RECOMMENDED VIDEO FOR YOU MOTHASUCKA

YouTube: She does nothing for me. Go RedSox.

Me: You win. You always do.

Remind me to never show my YouTube homepage to anyone.

I’m worried about the Hitman

2010-01-19T14:00:00.003+03:00

*Ed Note - Today is Dolly Parton’s birthday. Instead of paying tribute to my idol, I’m going to talk about wrestling. Yup.

Wrestling used to be my thing. It's my brother's fault.

When Benjamin wasn’t dressing me up in goalie equipment and rifling pucks at my head, he was practicing pile drivers and tomb stones with me as the willing dummy.

We owned these.

My Dad, a nonjudgemental supporter of our interests, took us to Wrestlemania XI (or what I thought was Wrestlemania. Turns out it was Summer Slam or something. Kids are dumb). The main event featured Hulk Hogan and Sgt. Slaughter in a battle royal. Hogan (my hero) lost after Slaughter pulled the Camel Clutch. Hogan was bleeding and everything! Intense.

While I've outgrown wrestling, I can still appreciate it. I really love how after decades, so much chnages but stays exactly the same. In this way, The WWF is like Days of our Lives. Characters in wrestling and in soap operas persist like wrinkly cockroaches. You don’t have to watch for ten years, and suddenly without warning, you’re drawn in to Dr. Marlena Evans/Vince McMahon. Within five minutes, it's like you never left.

This is exactly what happened to me when I logged on to YouTube the other day. One of the recommended videos was called: “Bret Hart returns to WWE.”**
**Sidenote on YouTube recommended videos. YouTube thinks I’m a 12 year-old boy. It only suggests I either watch wrestling, World of Warcraft videos, or pervy slideshows of Miley Cyrus. Occasionally, it’ll throw me a gem with a shirtless Alex Ovechkin, but those days are sparse.

Some history for non-WWF losers: twelve years ago, Bret Hart left the WWF after “being screwed” by Vince McMahon in a fight against Shawn Michaels. Hart vowed NEVER to return to the organization. NEVER EVER EVER. Of course, we all know what never means in people speak. It means “maybe later.”

Bret Hart is going back on his word and doing something he said he would never do.

He must be poor.

To keep from looking like a chump, Hart should walk around and quote Whitman wherever he goes: “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes.”

I love that. It justifies all hypocrisy. I use it a lot. An equally handy quote comes from Walker Evans. It justifies nosiness:

“Stare, pry, listen, eavesdrop. Die knowing something. You are not here long.”

Feel free to use that the next time you’re caught staring through a neighbour’s window.

But I meander. Where were we? Ah yes. Now, after a 12 year hiatus and at fifty-two years of age, the Hitman returns to the squared circle. He's signed to a four month contract. He'll wrestle against the other fogies I watched as a babe, namely Shawn Michaels and the Undertaker.

That’s right, The Undertaker. Have you seen this guy lately? He looks like he sleeps in a crypt. Sure, that’s kind of his thing, but really. He’s beyond tried and old looking. I'd post a photo but nobody needs to see that.

After approximately 45 million years with the WWE, why does The Undertaker continue to wrestle? I can think of only one reason - he, like Bret Hart is broke as all hell.

There are other impossibly old wrestlers who must be hard up for cash.

Rick Flair, born in 1949 still wrestles professionally. Broke.

Dave Kidney, at 78 years of age, is the oldest professional wrestler alive. He must be Dickens orphan type poor.

Listen, you might think these men continue to wrestle because they love it. Don’t be an idiot. Thanks to The Wrestler with Mickey Rourke and Canadian investigative news show W5, I know everything about wrestling. Everything.

Several years ago, W5 profiled Canadian wrestler Chris Jericho. At the time, Jericho held the heavyweight title belt and was at the top of his game. YET, he still drove his broke ass to every city and wore cheap clothes. The W5 spot showed us a dedicated athlete and performer, who was in the business because he loved it. Not because of the monies. Basically, it told us that wrestlers ain't getting paid.

How depressing is that?

Fin.

Did you make it through that? Wow. You’re a nerd. Have a present – the 30 most important cats of 2009 (imagine my joy when I found this link).

Start with Indifferent Cat (for days when you just don’t give an eff), stop at Asshole Cat (for Mondays); continue to Ignored Cat (IS ANYONE ELSE OUT THERE? ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?) And let Keyboard Cat play you off. 2009 was a historic year for LOLcats.

For the record, I posted Gyoza cat to my Facebook page in October2008. Clearly, the list is flawed. Awesome, but flawed.

Liveblogging the Golden Globes - Updated

2010-01-17T19:54:00.002+03:00

This is what happens when you try and do things

Yesterday I was struck with the brilliant idea to liveblog the Golden Globe awards. The plan was to wake up at 3am and chat with my friend Elisha. If one or two more people/lurkers joined in that would have been cool too. More people liveblogging equals more jabs at the tight-faced celebrities. I set up the blog (see below), woke up at 3 and realized the awards weren’t broadcast in Qatar this year. Ripoff.

So I missed it. It’s upsetting to have missed Ricky Gervais piss all over the Hollywood Foreign Press (he did piss on them right? Expectations were so high I was half-expecting him to punch a celebrity square in the mouth, I guess the Mel Gibson jab came close enough but enough about that), but I also really wanted to try the liveblog thing. It’s from coveritlive.com, the app is currently free and it won’t be that way forever. Oh well. I PROMISE to liveblog the Oscars snoozefest.**

**That Promise means it is 79% not going to happen. Build a bridge. Get over it.

Coupla Things

2010-01-14T14:57:00.000+03:00

So Rory McIlroy is a little Irish shite. He’s probably not coming to Doha. After a successful 2009 season on the European Tour, Rory decided to expand his horizons and join the PGA Tour.

Rory wants to play with the best golfers on the best courses in the world.

And I want to stand beside him and look surly.

Guess who out of the two of us is going to get their way? That’s right, the rich 19 year-old wins. Again.

Though he’ll continue to play on the European Tour and play the US majors, Rory’s 95% not coming to the Qatar Masters. That means I won’t get my chance to silently mock him. No photobomb, no nothing. I hate that talented man-boy more than ever.

Also, apparently McIlroy is in line to fill Tiger’s shoes while Woods takes a little break to sort out his bizness. I heard Tiger ran into some trouble but am not sure; it’s really hard to find details.

Next!

How many times do I have to link to the 1980s dating video before you watch? It’s six minutes of Internet gold. You won’t regret watching this one. Promise. It’s not anything like that new walrus video.

At night I operate a damsel in distress hotline. I guess you’d call me a knight.

Next!

Team Conan. Obviously. Here’s my favourite Conan-related tweet:
@Ihnatko: Conan is on fire tonight. Like any Sith Lord worth his salt, his hate has made him strong.

Next!
I like to freak out my colleagues and set my desktop background to something really awkward and lame. Here's a screencap of what my desktop looks like now:

Need something equally classy for next week.

January Nuggets

2010-01-07T14:33:00.001+03:00

Taking a page from the sometimes book of Toronto hero eyebleaf and writing a post in point form. Style can be exhausting sometimes.

**Post-post-writing Ed note – this turned into a link dump. Revert back here when looking for something shiny to distract you, sweet magpies.

• What the hell is a Justin Beiber? My favourite YouTuber, Pruane seems to know. I'm looking at Justin Beiber now, and all I can think is, the robots are coming?? THEY'RE ALREADY HERE!!

• Are you a fan of The Office? Then you may have noticed the show has taken a decidedly darker route this season, or that something feels a little off, but you can’t put your finger on what's different. This article can help: Why The Office has become the most depressing show on television. Great read.

• Ever since I showed the tiniest interest in the Mayweather-Pacquiao fight (that’s boxing, by the way…who knew), the Philipinos in my office have taken to shouting “Manny! Manny! Manny!” every time I enter the building. This has been going on for weeks. In actuality, I don’t know anything about boxing, save for what Joyce Carol Oates has told me, but I now feel compelled to read everything possible about it. It's a shady attempt to win favour with my colleagues and it's totally working. Come again? The fight's maybe probably definitely off? Aweeeeesome. Thank you Jebus.

• I love me some Howard Stern. I hate me some creationist Kirk Cameron. That's probably why this three part video of Howard ripping into Cameron and everything he believes in, makes me so happy.

• Morgan Freeman replaced Walter Cronkite as CBS’ ‘voice of God.’ Morgan Freeman, imagine that! What an inspired decision. Can’t you just see a bunch of white dudes sitting around the CBS boardroom calling this?

White guy #1 “Oh shit. We can’t use Cronkey’s voice anymore. Who do we call?”

Three second pause.

White guy #2 “I hear Morgan Freeman has some voice-over experience.”

Done deal.

You can listen toFreeman’s introduction of the nightly news here. Booooo-ring. They should have called Kenny Rogers. Or Dolly.

• A version of the next Twilight movie script was leaked online. Hahahaha.

• Jersey Show. Man. That show permeated universal consciousness in a scary fast way, eh? I watched the pilot last night. It was futile to ignore the buzz any longer. After finally succumbing to the hype and knowing my predilection for everything trashy, I figured I’d be hooked. Amazingly, the show didn't take. I passed on Jersey Shore and now feel invinsible to crap. Someone buy me a monocle.

• I already linked to this on my twitter but it’s worth a second, third and fourth look: the 20 craziest Tyra Show moments. If you only watch one clip, make it the homeless one. No, I take that back. Make it the one where she goes undercover as a man. Oh forget it, watch them all. Tyra is a gift. It's so sad that she's ending her run next year. There are few things in life more fun than judging a judgy Tyra Banks. Who's going to fill the void?

• Yesterday, someone sent me information that they claimed might make me like Rory McIroy. I promptly deleted it. The boy is a pig and there’s no evidence to the contrary. Harumph. I’ve since thought more about this McIlroy-surly-photo plan, which got me thinking about photobombs again. Animal photobombs in particular. Here are my favourite animal photobombs:

My next mission

2010-01-06T14:01:00.000+03:00

The Qatar Masters is coming up.

There's still no confirmation as to whether Rory McIlroy is participating or not.

Or maybe there is. You do the research, please.

Anyway, if he does attend, something special has to happen. Rory's history with HTB demands it.

As such, my mission is this:

Have photo taken with Rory McIlory. Look surly.

It doesn’t matter how nice I have to be to get the photo, only the end result counts.

Must look like I hate Rory McIlory while standing next to him.

Maybe if I explain about the mission…..

A photobomb, though cool, would be a failure.

Speaking of photobombs- have you seen the best celebrity photobombers? Kate Beckinsale ginger for the win?

Sit there and let me tell you about the time I saw Roger Federer in the flesh

2010-01-06T13:43:00.002+03:00

And don't you dare move....

...or move. You should probably leave me alone with my thoughts.

In my world this week, it’s all Federer, all the time. You already knew I was obsessed with him. Imagine what an IRL (in real life) sighting has done. I freaking dreamt about him last night. Embarrassing. And I'm not a twelve year-old. You'd think I'd be able to control myself and not write a detailed blog post about the three minutes I spent looking at him. You'd think I wouldn't, but you'd be so wrong.

I’ve already grossed out my twitter followers with the gushing. Now it’s your turn. Prepare to feel revolted.

I’m going to transcribe the “story”, because although none of you care, I need a record for my own amusement. In the past I’ve said that if I really want something to happen, it always does. Add this story to the list.

Two nights ago, Roger Federer stood six feet away from me. We were in a store with four other people. There were no fans crowding around him, he wasn’t playing tennis, it was just him and his wife, in their element. It was the coolness.

On Monday, DKM and I went to the first night of the ExxonMobil Open. When we found out Rafa and Federer weren’t playing that evening, we watched a set of crappy nobodies rally and got the heck out of there. It was cold outside.

Next, we went to the Hyatt. The night before, my agency organized an event and I forgot my laptop onstage, so we had to go and fetch it from security. Sidebar - only in Doha could you forget a laptop somewhere and be 99.9% guaranteed to have it back the next day. I'll let you figure out why that's the case.

After leaving the Hyatt, we rolled up to my favourite hotel in the world, the Ritz-Carlton, to seek out the manolo blahnik sale I mentioned last post.

After roughly three minutes of browsing the store, Federer’s wife (Mirka Vavrinec) walks in the joint. This is me: “Holy shit, that’s Federer’s wife. Great hair. Awesome.” I turned around, (the best way to prevent myself from asking what’s it like to be married to the second most beautiful man alive).

Suddenly, it hit me. “Wait a minute…. If Federer’s wife is here….”

I turned back around.

There he was. Tall, handsome, smiling.

He was dressed in jeans, a blue plaid dress shirt and a deep blue cardigan. He was with a big Qatari businessman. They stood, chatted, bought stuff. The whole encounter lasted about three minutes. I spent that time pretending to look at shoes. I also leapt out of his eye line for a minute in an attempt to calm my furiously beating heart. It didn’t work.

I didn’t talk to him or ask him for an autograph. That’s what ~~fraidycats~~ uncool people do.

So that’s it. An insignificant three minutes for Roger, a lifetime memory in my bank. I have the best luck with these things.

Anyway, once he left, I was feeling especially good. Bought the miu mius I had in hand when he walked in. They’re bright red, patent leather and are obviously now my lucky shoes.

DKM also bought me blue suede Manolos!! My first pair. If anyone steps on my blue suede shoes, I’mma hurt them.

Up next, five nights of watching Federer and Nadal knock off oponents until they inevitably face each other on Saturday and I explode from an overload of beauty.

I wonder if they coordinate outfits?

Yes, I took this. Shame is for the weak.

Bonus! Here’s Rafa looking happy at his doubles match. He plays with Marco Lopez- the shorter, stockier, crappier, less dreamy version of Rafa. He has way more mustache than Nadal so that's got to be something.

Yay for tennis, right?

One year in Qatar

2010-01-04T13:56:00.001+03:00

Yesterday marked 365 days since I touched down in Doha. One year of living the Arabian dream, baby. It’s astounding how quickly time has gone. The last month is especially blurry. Holidays. Sheesh.

One year in Doha. Wow. Do you know how many socially awkward conversations I’ve had that that were spoken entirely in Arabic, by everyone but me? Maybe 100.

I had one such conversation this morning. Usually what happens is, someone makes a joke. Everyone else laughs. Then I laugh, half a beat later. Everyone else is already wearing serious faces. They frown at me. I wear blank expression until conversation finishes.

It’s still a trip, one year later.

What have you been up to? Make any new year’s resolutions? I sure as hell didn’t, but I stole one from Brenda, which is probably a better plan.

2010: be it resolved that (that’s not right) Meredith will "be more aware of other people and their feelings.”
Or something.

Brenda is one of the only truly good people I know (no offense everyone else), so hopefully by stealing her resolution some of that goodness will rub off on me. If I were left to my own devices, my resolutions would include becoming shockingly thin, abstaining from alcohol during the week (as to get drunker on weekends), and blogging on the regular. Hey, those aren’t so bad. Forget you, Brenda!

So, one year in Doha means Hack the Bone’s first birthday is approaching. This calls for a celebration.
Ummmm......

Manolos are on sale at 70% off right now!! That’s practically free (not at all). If you can’t wear pretty shoes while typing half-hazardly from the Interwebs, when can you?!

One year of blogging. Time moves. I’d like to thank the people who inspire me daily – Michael Phelps, Rory McIlroy, CONRAD Black, every LOLCats cat ever, and Sarah Palin. Thank you to the menaces of society for keeping me thoroughly grossed out/entertained/awestruck. I would have nothing to write about without the legions of fascinatingly unattractive people who do stupid things.

Here are some of my favourite posts from the year:

The True Story of my Inbred PuppiesThis is the post that established HTB as one of the Internet’s largest suppositories of photos of inbred puppies. Go on, google image it. You’ll find the angels I birthed with my two hands (and don’t you forget it) all over the page. Bing isn't so kind, but I’m still Internet famous - the only kind of fame that matters anymore.

Blog Wars
Gord and Meg versus Mere and Duncan. An epic showdown of nerds. Or rather, two nerds and two cool people in love with geeks. Glory days never last.This online rivalry continued until Gord and Meg got lives and stopped blogging. It was good while it lasted.

Fun with Facebook
Get this - Bone Grinder’s name is STILL Bone Grinder.

Happy New Year everyone! 2010 is going to be sweet.

My Celebrity Playlist

2009-12-06T13:43:00.004+03:00

I’m a big fan of iTunes Celebrity Playlists. One of the best ways to discover new music is through passionate and adamant recommendations; you can learn a lot about someone when you know what kind of songs really mess with them. Such is the beauty of a celebrity playlist. So when you ask a narcissistic, image-obsessed famous person to produce a list of their all-time favourite tracks, you’re bound to get some good (if not hilarious) stuff. Even if their publicists write the lists on their behalf, you know damn well that said publicist thought long and hard about what will make the celebrity look cool and smart, but not overly pretentious. Excellent musical knowledge is one way to convince people you’re relevant.

A good playlists may even endear you to a celebrity you once thought was a fool (which is exactly what the celebrities' labels want. I am a corporate cog). Case in point, when I saw Ashlee Simpson had a playlist, oh some, three years ago, I was ready to laugh at her embarrassing choices. But when she picked Cyndi Lauper’s cover of ‘When you were mine’, I couldn’t hate her ~~anymore~~ for a few days.

Also, celebrity playlists are educational. A few things I’ve learned from years of following the lists:
1. Celebrities think Wilco RULES
2. Famous people love Antony & the Johnsons – namely lead singer Antony Hegarty’s androgynous voice. There are lots of androgynous people in Hollywood. It makes sense.
3. Prince and/or Bob Dylan are on everyone’s list. It makes me think that Prince and Bob Dylan have a lot more clout in Hollywood than you’d think (okay fine, they’re just awesome, there’s probably nothing suspicious going on here they’ve gotten to me too).
4. The Beatles don’t appear anywhere, because if it ain’t sold on iTunes, it ain’t going on your list. Instead, you’ll notice an imbalance of songs from Paul McCartney & Wings, because people are clearly trying to make up for their inability to tell everyone how much they loved Rubber Soul.
5. I hated Sarah Silverman a little bit when she produced a lackluster effort. Was she trying to be funny? Or just didn’t care? Lack of effort and ambivalence are ugly.
6. Paul Rudd’s playlist features more than two of my favourite songs. We’re obviously meant to be.
7. Judging rich people is fun!

All right, time to get down from my ivory tower of musical superiority. I’m going to make my own playlist. All of the following songs are immensely special to me and I happen to think they are all really, really good. Of course, as soon as I hit publish on the blog, I’ll regret my choices and spend the rest of the day thinking about what I should have done instead. NO. It’s set in stone. These songs are the awesome. They come from different genres and might not mesh, but they’re my most favouritest ear worms.

Links provided for your listening pleasure. Headphones are recommended for maximum cerebral effect. Would love to know what you think and what you’d put on your own playlist, were you given the chance (here’s your chance).

1. Grizzly Bear – Two Weeks My favourite song of 2009. Seriously cannot stop listening….. go now!

2. Fiona Apple – Paper Bag. In university, when DKM and I broken up ( Sigh. Young, troubled love.) I used to get really drunk and sing this song to my roommate Cath. I’d pull her into my bedroom and serenade her until she got super uncomfortable and tried to leave. Then I’d sing it to her again. Then I’d play her Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights because it says “Cathy” in the lyrics. Paper Bag is probably my favourite song to sing out loud. I really miss Fiona Apple.

3. Neutral Milk Hotel – In an Aeroplane over the sea. I was always obsessed with this song (key track of a concept album dedicated to Anne Frank…..yep) but never knew where it came from. With no context, I just figured it was a sweet little jingle. I recently became even more obsessed when someone alerted me to this article about singer Jeff Magnum. After releasing this record, Magnum all but disappeared off the face of the earth. He’s been called ‘the JD Salinger of indie rock.” Awesome.

4. Nina Simone – I Got Life The ULTIMATE pump up song. So it might be about slavery, but just try and not feel good listening to it.
Publish Post
5. Sloan - The Lines you Amend. Let’s hear it for the Canadian contingent! Sloan isn’t one of my favourite bands, but this tune from ‘One Chord to Another’ gets me every time. It's upbeat, and catchy with a kick ass melody, but the lyrics are quite sad. I love a song that brings you up and down within three minutes. That’s powerful stuff.

6. Rufus Wainwright – Poses. This is what dreamy sounds like. Poses is the kind of tune that stays with you forever.

7. Hank Snow – A Fool Such as I Old Country. Not for everyone. Definitely for me.

8. The Cure – Lovesong The perfect pop song. Catchy and repetitive. Rolling drums. Robert Smith looks inappropriately plaintive in the video. It’s got everything.

9. Eddie Vedder – No Ceiling One minute and thirty-nine seconds of goodness. My only complaint? I wish it were longer. Oh but, Eddie, I can’t stay mad at you. Meow.

10. Frank Sinatra – Witchcraft It’s hard to pick one Sinatra song, but Old Blue Eyes can’t be excluded from my list. He wouldn’t allow it. My earliest musical memories all involve Frank.

11. Radiohead – True Love Waits One for the lovers. I go through months-long phases where I play this song constantly. As hard as I try to kill it, it never goes away. That’s the mark of a truly great track.

12. Lauryn Hill – Ex-Factor Remember when Lauryn Hill was this good? Feels like forever ago.

13. Pink Martini – Hang on Little Tomato For times when you need to hear from a woman with a really beautiful voice

That was fun.

Catching Up

2009-12-02T14:14:00.004+03:00

Eid Al Adha holidays are over. Five days off work in the private sector. That’s as good as it gets in Qatar. While it’s not my friend Cath's situation in Korea (on paid government sanctioned vacation from December 23-February 8 holy god I’m in the wrong country), I’ll take it. Five day weekend!! Over Eid, most residents leave town to visit exotic and/or historic locales for a few days. I stayed. The city was dead. No one was around and there was nothing to do. I barely left the house. I cooked lots. Slept in and read the newspaper. Also read brilliant essays. I strongly recommend you print these out and enjoy with a drink (Frank Sinatra, Vonnegut, Michelin star restaurants, Mike Tyson, disappearing in the digital age). Seriously, those links are gold. You'll actually learn things.

That's me, on vacation. It's a hermit crab. Was that sly reference lost on you? Go watch this disgusting yet completely mesmerizing starfish feeding frenzy and learn more about aquatic life.

I would have blogged but my brain was only interested in ingestion. Nothing good came out. When you buy six movies and the first one you watch is Paul Blart: Mall Cop, you’re in a pretty sorry state. My review of Paul Blart? That probably would have been useful to you eight months ago, but we’re not CNN Breaking News here. My review: it stinks. The movie has skateboarding robbers and “the 2007 internet sensation of the year” parkour, and I forget what else. Going in, there was hope that Paul Blart would be secretly hilarious like the surprise delight Role Models, but no. And whoever thought to cast Kevin James as a romantic(ish) lead was probably drunk. Or it was Kevin James himself. Either way, it didn't work. It's Not that I have anything against watching a fat person fall in love and make out with someone way out of his league. I’d just rather spend my 10 QAR (3 bucks, still not a bargain) on a more realitic movie. Like Star Trek. Disss.

Happy end of Movember! Do you have a Movember male in your life? If so, surely you understand that despite its 30 calendar days, November is the loooongest month of the year.

Have I ever mentioned how great it is to run with an hotelier crowd? Hotels just love giving other hotels free stuff. It’s crazy! For instance, the Hot Hoteliers Doha group (co-founded by DKM) meets every six weeks at one of Qatar’s finest hotels for an evening of free booze and noms and socializing. Last night the event was at the Ritz-Carlton. And the Ritz doesn't joke around. They’re the gold standard in hospitality. There was foie gras (yes, I hate the idea of it too but as an amateur foodie you have to admit it’s delicious) and crab cakes and spicy tuna on mini spoons and teeny desserts served my waiters who never disappeared. DKM also won a raffle prize – two day passes to the Ritz-Carlton beach. This is me at said beach:

Happy place. Responsible sun play. The book? Atonement. Sexy times.

DKM gave me the passes because he’s going to watch the Rugby Sevens and train in Dubai for eight days. I’m taking Brenda. We asked for the passes before D even had a chance to offer, which he was going to do originally. We looked like jerks. Lesson? Always give someone at least five minutes to offer you a present before asking for it yourself.

So here’s one productive thing I have to show for my extended weekend – I put up a fake Christmas tree. When I opened the box a tiny bug came crawling out, and I was terrified to touch the 200 or so pieces inside. I had a cry on the living room floor while probably surrounded by bug-infested fake branches, before pulling myself together. Two hours later, a star was born.

Look at this fool, pretending she’s not frightened.

So there’s a short update for my friends who are mad I've been a bad pen pal. I’m behind on correspondence! Your accusatory messages are giving me the sads.

I have some thoughts on Tiger Woods that need to be punched out. Will write about something other than my immediate surroundings soon. Promise.

Can anyone tell me what this is?

2009-11-22T17:10:00.000+03:00

See original Hack the Bone post here:

And this weird bit of Internet is from something I found on a blog called Boys Games…..

I’m frightened.

Kids these days: or wherein I favour optimism over another Sarah Palin-related post

2009-11-18T15:27:00.003+03:00

Kids these days. Everything bad they do – I blame on Miley Cyrus. Everything good must be a direct result of Taylor Swift. If there’s a kid with an unnatural obsession with a love interest, I chalk it up to Twilight.

Clearly, I’m alienated from the young peoples. This distance is probably the reason I find the younger generation so fascinating.

What’s intriguing about them? For starters, it’s boggling to think that people exist who don’t know a life before the Internet. Today’s thirteen year olds watched Blues Clues DVDs on their parents’ laptops and learned how to spell and type while surfing Yahoo! for kids. ICQ was a dinosaur long before they cut their teeth on Facebook chat.

I like to think that these kids, the ones who grew up video blogging their diaries have a good grasp of the idea of the global community. A better grasp than my friends and I had at their age, at least. Kids these days learn from a really young age that we’re just a tiny speck among the oceans of people trying to be heard.There’s hardly a better way for a young kid to learn about life outside their bedroom than by logging on to a news site and reading comments from people halfway around the world. They can discover for themselves the opinions of smarter, dumber, more racist and better looking people. Thanks to and because of the sheer volume of the Internet, they understand just how crazy big our planet is.

As such, it seems that today’s youth have an incredible appreciation for those moments when two strangers crash together in wonderfully random and unexpected situations. A gross generalization? Definitely maybe, as this argument is based almost completely on my experience with the site My Life is Average. After reading MLIA for a few weeks, and rejoicing in the site's friendly attitude towards thought, it’s clear to me that young people today possess the rare gift of seeing the magical in the mundane. This I love.

Here are a few typical entries from MLIA:

One day I received a call from an 800 number. Expecting it to be a telemarketer I answered with a sigh and a hello. The response was "Hi there, I'm an annoying telemarketer that's not going to try to sell you something I already know you don't want... how's the weather?" A minute later I heard his boss behind him ask what he was doing followed by a click. Best telemarketer experience ever. MLIA

Today was Halloween and I was passing out candy at my house. The old man (about 85) who lives down the street from me said trick or treat when he came to my door. He wasn't dressed in a costume so I asked him what he was. His reply, "I'm Benjamin Button. I'm 7, but I look a lot older." I gave him extra candy. MLIA

Yesterday for trick-or-treat me and my bf went as Harry and Ginny. We went up to a house and an old lady answered dressed up as Hermione. She looked at us hugged both of us then screames, "Ron, Harry and Ginny came to visit us." Then her husband comes to the door dressed as Ron and gave us both a big hug. I love old people. MLIA

A little while ago, I went to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince with my sister, mom, and dad. When the movie characters raised their wands at the end to remember Dumbledore, my dad slowly raised his drinking straw, and was followed by the entire filled IMAX theater. MLIA

Delightful. The best entries from MLIA describe an unexpected connection between strangers- the special moment that happens when a shared interest brings strangers together, if only for a second. Moments in time. Observing what’s vivid. Presentation, not reference.

MLIA resides in the corner of the Internet we go to forget about the Levi Johnstons and Jon Gosselins of the world. MLIA is where we honour the best of the every day and celebrates the good in people. Knowing that its submissions are written largely by school kids fills me with hope for what’s to come.

Are you tired of this woman yet?

2009-11-15T15:40:00.001+03:00

I bet you aren't.

The Sarah Palin media blitz is beginning. I’d say I missed the thrilla from Wasilla in the months since Obama’s victory, but Palin hasn’t really gone anywhere. That's not to say she didn’t try. For the better part of 2009, Palin abandoned her abbreviation-happy twitter account (her ham radio to the world), rarely gave press interviews and spoke only at events where the media weren’t allowed to tread.

Even if Palin herself stayed quiet, curious onlookers were given plenty of ammunition to rifle through. The public learned a lot more about Palin from the hangers on who were willing to speak on her, than we ever learned from the Governor herself. And hangers on there were many. Countless people, near to and far from Palin willing to talk about her at length. No issue was left untouched. Literally. Articles were published on her e-mail etiquette, her alleged marriage problems with Todd and exactly how long it took her to drop that pesky baby weight .

With so many speaking about her, it was easy to forget that Palin herself was trying to keep her head down until the release of her hastily produced memoir, Going Rogue.

But now, as the book’s debut nears, it looks as if the relative quiet from the Palin camp is over. Her hugely-anticipated Oprah interview airs tomorrow, followed by a “politically-fueled” 20/20 interview with Baba WaWa. We’re in store for an exhaustive PR blitz. This morning, I counted 45 articles on my Google Reader about Going Rogue. Critics have gotten their hands on advance copies, and the scathing reviews are pouring in. Journalists everywhere are jostling to be the first to identify any errors and lies that may lie within. It's a journalistic blood sport out there - whoever serves up Palin's head on a platter wins.

The world is watching Sarah Palin this week.

And why?

Most people have figured out that Palin’s presidential chances have all but disappeared with the $150,000 wardrobe she sported on the campaign trail.

Obviously nothing is certain, but I’m willing to bet on this- Palin isn’t going to be president. Maybe she goes on to host a chat show on FOX News, and spends her best years shouting at Obama from behind the soap box and high fiving Glenn Beck between takes. Surely since she quit her post as Governor her chances at this becoming her reality have increased tenfold. If Sarah Palin leaves politics for good and turns into the right-wing Oprah, when is the public going to stop paying attention?

At what point do we stop caring about Sarah Palin?

I wish I knew the answer.

The scary thing is, I’m not sure I’ll ever stop caring. Judging by the level of articles I’ve read on Palin and her relationships in the past year and a half, I will always be fascinated. Shudder the thought.

This is kind of sad and hard to admit, but I read everything about the woman I can get my hands on. The nastier the article better. And I don’t stop at third party writing - I delight in Palin’s indecipherable tweets and rambling Facebook essays (with seventeen footnotes….ibid ibid ibid). I’ve watched the YouTube video of Sarah’s greatest mishaps more than twice. And the Tina Fey sketches? I practically have them memorized.

I read every article that picks apart her speeches and her dialect and her hypocrisy. I loved it when FOX News actually fact checked and called her out on a blatant error. Loved it.

Clearly, I’m not gunning for this woman to succeed and yet, I’m obsessed with her. I’d rather spend an afternoon with Going Rogue, desperately searching for an error the Huffington Post hasn’t caught yet, than embiggen (The Simpsons made it a real word) myself with the biography of someone whose life is actually worthy of such intense fascination.

What does that say about me? What does it say about anyone who feels the same?

We need to do something better with our lives.

I’ve been wrong before

2009-11-11T15:00:00.006+03:00

Yes, the Levi Johnston twitter account is fake. It’s so fake, in fact, that Levi is trying to sue twitter for allowing such a brazen impersonation to occur. Let’s get this straight – Levi is upset someone compromised the reputation he’s worked so hard to sculpt? Homeboy is an idiot. On another note, I can’t wait for his Playgirl spread. I think there'll be moose involved.

Here are other things I’ve been wrong about:
1. There may be more to the Letterman-Drew Barrymore relationship than intellect and repartee.

2. This cat not being a cheeseburger:

I think that’s everything. Let’s move on.

Next!

Self-promotion: the project I’ve been slaving over lately culminated yesterday in a successful event and comparable media coverage. A client actually HUGGED me (if you work in an agency you know that’s special). It was a very good day professionally. Also, Hack the Bone was named one of Qatar’s Best Blogs by qatarvisitor.com. Hack the Bone – “read for lighthearted posts.” I’m very happy to be mentioned (even happier Hack the Bone hasn’t gotten me deported) but there is nothing lighthearted about Michael Phelps’ face (or as I like to call it, proof that pobody’s nerfect).

Next!

What’s the best way to make your face redder than Santa’s at the Boxing Day staff party? Boot camp.

There’s no reason to mention boot camp, other than the fact that I want everyone to know I’m exercising and at the same time, to try out that Santa joke. It was hilarious, so mission accomplished.

Next!

It’s fall/winter in Doha so there are things to do besides sit around talking about the heat and looking at pictures of camels. The England and Brazil national football teams are playing a friendly on the weekend. Brazil and England in Qatar?

Why, you ask? Come on, people. For the monies! Apparently the players are already in town, sans Beckham. Whatever Beckham, that’s cool. I would rather bump into Rooney anyway. He seems nice. Big ears, not much cauliflowering.

It feels as if everyone in the country has tickets to the game – our softball match is even cancelled so people can attend conflict free (softball update - we won 25-6 last week in a game I missed because I can’t say no to Risk and champagne, long story, but yes I am kind of pissed the team won so handily without me, a girl just wants to feel needed you know, read that aloud in one breath it'll improve your wind pipes).

There will be no booze served at the game, not that it matters to most people. Do I talk about drinking too much? Question asked, question answered. Anyway. Officials were worried things would get too rowdy for the conservative Qatari crowd, so one of the British papers ran an article pleading fans not to get drunk and paint their half-naked bodies. In other words, there will be few sauced and overweight Brits with flags painted on their bellies screaming out the words to the Wayne Rooney song. In even more other words, the atmosphere is going to suck.

The equestrian championships are happening on the same night in another arena. Another Doha planning FAIL. We choose football, but it was hard to say no to the horsies.

Speaking of beautiful creatures – Federer has confirmed he’s playing in Doha in January 2010.

Speaking of impending beauty in Doha - Jimmy Choo's H&M line is coming to town next Thursday and it's bringing this dress:

Mine?

When idiots attack

2009-11-04T14:06:00.001+03:00

Ohhh shoot! Levi Johnston (you know, the kid who knocked up Sarah Palin’s daughter and is posing for Playboy next month) has a twitter feed and it’s the greatest thing ever! He only has 3,000 followers right now, so check it out before a responsible adult makes him delete the account.

Levi can’t spell and he’s racist and sexist and talks about drug use and his decision to pose naked. Someone get this kid a muzzle. Levi Johnston in his own words (if I find out this is fake, I’ma be crushed) is a prime example of why I love twitter so. As soon as you let public figures (and I use that term loosely here) speak for themselves, everything their long-suffering publicists work for goes to the dogs.

Did you read that Vanity Fair story that took one of his interviews and turned it into a readable and widely entertaining piece on the Palin family? If you missed it, the online link is here. You have to feel sorry for the journalist whose job it was to spin Levi’s ramblings into something decipherable.

Have I mentioned before that I love the Internet?

You again

2009-11-01T17:56:00.002+03:00

I haven’t posted much of substance lately. Thanks to an ever-increasing workload (wah wah) and abundance of fun things to do in Qatar (not joking), I’ve ignored all blog accountability. I had a strategy though - after posting that video of Ovechkin, I figured you’d all be sufficiently grossed out and not visit for a while. Please come back now.

So Tribeca’s been pretty sweet. In a drastic change of character, Doha felt like a bustling city this past weekend. Tennis, Film Festivals, CHER - there was a lot going on. On Thursday, we wormed our way into the VIP opening night party. It was aiiiight (boozy). I got so drunk that I smoked in front of DKM’s mother. Then I invited a bunch of relative strangers over for an after party, only to serenade them with Carly Simon’s you’re so vain and get offended when no one joined in.

The next morning I was all, “those people were such duds last night.” And everyone else was like, “no, you were ridiculous and embarrassing. You probably should apologize.”

And that’s how that went. I’m starting boot camp tonight as punishment for jerky behaviour.

What was I talking about? Right, Tribeca. There were movies too. Thanks to an unnamed source, we had press accreditation through the festival. Press accreditation = free tickets. So what if the tickets were 10 riyal (three dollars) without a press badge? We got to wear neat badges with our photos on them and pretend we are important.

I watched three movies – The September Issue (hilarious), An Education (effectively ruined my Peter Saaaarsgaaard crush but was sooo good, sigh) and Sin Nombre (violent and mean). DKM saw the Spike Lee joint Kobe Doing Work because he’s a sucker. You know I love sports but there’s no chance in hell I was sitting through one and a half hours of Spike Lee fellating Kobe Bryant, whose personality always left something to be desired, in my nuanced opinion. But get this - Kobe Doing Work is a documentary about one game of basketball. One game! And it’s not even a playoff game. Spike Lee made a feature length film from probably two hours of footage? Sounds like he phoned that one in. Pass.

Sin Nombre is one of those artsy, hard-to-watch but “really good” movies that had everyone in the audience clapping through the credits. It’s about gangs and emigration in Honduras. Violence and unhappiness prevails. Everyone said they loved it because they’re probably scared someone might tell them they’re stupid if they don’t. I would have rather spent that time looking at rainbows and smiling. I prefer things that are happy and fuzzy and that you can pet. There’s nothing pettable in that movie.

Happy Halloween everyone. For the first time, I didn’t dress up. Not because I’m mature or above it, but because there are decency dress codes at the clubs now that don’t vibe with my kind of Halloween. Last year, I pulled a Spike Lee and wore a Blondie “costume” that lacked effort and imagination. The Blondie costume came to when I was walking up Queen St. W on my way home from work. Peep my inner monologue: “I can’t believe my work is making me dress up. I have two jobs, damnit, and it’s cold. There’s no time to find something skanky enough to work at a sports bar. Maybe I can just repeat my devil costume from last year. I was the perfect Halloween tramp! Tight red dress, gloves, fishnets, horns and tail. Perfect. What in the hell am I going to wear this year!? Something baggy? Haha yeah right, I’m hilarious. Oh hey here’s that store that sells band t-shirts. That cranky hipster shopkeeper be damned, I’m going in. Oh there’s Blondie. Grab it fast before shopkeeper with the thrift store glasses (probably fake prescriptions, bastard) judges you any longer. Do you think he knows I’m only shopping here because it’s Halloween? My stars, his hair looks smelly. Is he serious with the man bangs? Aaaand exit. Wouldn’t you know it, band t-shirt store is two doors down from an American Apparel. They sell fugly shiny leggings and headbands. I have big hair. Perfect. I am Blondie. Do you think Debbie Harry would wear a t-shirt with her face on it? Ohhh damnit.”

Elisha clearly went for the skanky-dress-with-some-sort-of-headpiece look. I should have copied. Next year, I’ll do something really awesome. I owe it to myself.

Things I love right now:

1.) GLEE! So proud of myself for jumping on the Glee bandwagon. I've been patting my own back for days. That show is DELIGHTFUL.

2.) Mylifeisaverage.com Excellent stuff. Am I really behind the fray on this? Probably. The 13 year-olds who contribute to this site are hilarious. MLIA is soooo much better than FML and TFLN but fall behind far behind LOLCats. Acronym party.

3.) The bruise on my hand that I got from a softball. It looks so cool and I get to tell people that I sort of injured myself playing team sports. We’ve played four games now and it’s great fun. DKM’s one of the best players on the team, which I’m thankful for because his skill justifies my presence. Week by week, I’m transforming my noodle arm from tenderized to al dente to hard as a frock. When you only play catcher, you get a lot of throwing practice.

Ed Note - I'm still having trouble formatting my blog in Google Chrome (no I'm not switching to Firefox, I will stay true to the Chromium), so apologies if this reads wonky. It might be because you're viewing this on Internet Explorer, and if you are, please stop trying to kill the Internet. Otherwise, let me know if you're having trouble viewing pages and I'll take it up with Blogger. K bai!

Lyrics game

2009-10-21T15:44:00.004+03:00

**UPDATE**
Answers are posted in the comments section. Thanks for playing!

Who doesn’t love song lyrics? There are good ones and great ones and bad ones. Some are obscure, some are well-thought out, and some just make no damn sense.

Probably the BEST lyrics are the ones you sing incorrectly for years, only to have blissful ignorance snatched away by some know-it-all d-bag in at a bar.

You know, it’s actually, “Who will dance on the floor in the round?”

Usually I’m that d-bag. It’s a wonder I’ve got any friends at all.

So yea. Lyrics. They’re the best.

Are you feeling musical now? Good. Let’s play the lyrics game.

Below, you’ll find a selection of words put to song. Here’s a hint – they can all be found on my iTunes (ha?) No artist or band is repeated. There’s a song for every letter of the alphabet. See how many you can identify WITHOUT using Google (or Bing or Yahoo or Altavista… Ask Jeeves?). Really, don’t cheat. The Internet makes people dishonest. Have some integrity and use your finely tuned musical knowledge to identify the Britney Spears song, damnit.

Answers to be posted in the comment section tomorrow.

a) a) Ambition makes you look pretty ugly
Kicking and squealing gucci little piggy
You don't remember
You don't remember
Why don't you remember my name?

c) b) Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

c) The waiting drove me mad
you’re finally here and I'm a mess
I take your entrance back
can’t let you roam inside my head

e) d)Well I hear you went up to Saratoga
And your horse naturally won
Then you flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia
To see the total eclipse of the sun

f) e) they got the situation
they gotta be facing
I can't live a normal life I was raised by the street
so I gotta be down with the hood team
too much television watching got me chasing dreams
I’m an educated fool with money on my mind
got my ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye

g) f) I wear bright red, like a girl toe.

g) And she said losing love
is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you're blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow

h) If I ever get out of here

Thought of giving it all away
to a registered charity
All I need is a pint a day

i) Baby, don't you wanna, dance up on me, to another time and place?

Oh baby, don't you wanna, dance up on me, and leave behind my name and age?

j) From the family tree of old school hip-hop

Kick off your shoes and relax your socks
Your rhymes are spread just like a pox
Cause the music is loud like an electric shock
I am known to do the wop
Also known for the Flintstone Flop

k) And I need you more than want you

And I want you for all time

l) They pulled in just behind the bridge

He lays her down, he frowns
'Gee my life's a funny thing, am I still too young?'
He kissed her then and there
She took his ring, took his babies
It took him minutes, took her nowhere
Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything

Still playing? I LOVE YOU! Soldier on…..

m) I would go out tonight

But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said "it's gruesome
That someone so handsome should care”

n) What you wanna ball with the kid

Watch your step you might fall
Trying to do what I did
Mama-unh mama-unh ima come closer
In the middle of the club with the rub-a-dub, unh
No love for the haters, the haters
Mad cause I got floor seats at the Lakers

o) Come on down to the Mermaid Cafe and I will buy you a bottle of wine

And we'll laugh and toast to nothing and smash our empty glasses down
Let's have a round for these freaks and these soldiers
A round for these friends of mine
Let's have another round for the bright red devil
Who keeps me in this tourist town

p) Under the pale moon

For so many years I've wondered
Who you are
How can a person like you bring me joy
Under the pale moon
Where I see a lot of stars
Is enough enough

q) Maybe you'll get a replacement

There's plenty like me to be found
Mongrels who ain't got a penny
Sniffing for tidbits like you on the ground

r) You took me from the shelter of my mother

I had never known or loved any other
We kissed after taking vows
But that night on our honeymoon,
We stayed in separate rooms

s) There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run

when the wild, majestic mountains stood alone against the sun
Long before the white man and long before the wheel
When the green, dark forest was too silent to be real

t) The first mate he got drunk

And broke in the Cap'n's trunk
The constable had to come and take him away
Sheriff John Stone
Why don't you leave me alone, yeah yeah

u) She keeps her Moet et Chandon

In her pretty cabinet
'Let them eat cake' she says
Just like Marie Antoinette
A built-in remedy
For Kruschev and Kennedy
At anytime an invitation
You can't decline

v) You have so many relationships in this life,

Only one or two will last,
You go through all the pain and strife,
You turn your back and they're gone so fast,
Oh yeah, and they're gone so fast, yeah.
Oh, so hold onto ones that really care,
In the end they'll be the only ones there,
When you get old start losing your hair,
Can you tell me who will still care?

w) I woke up this morning and the sun was gone,

Turned on some music to start my day
I lost myself in a familiar song
I closed my eyes and I slipped away

x) Words like violence

Break the silence
Come crashing in
Into my little world
Painful to me pierce right through me
Don't you understand oh my little girl

y) Every time I think of you

I feel shot right through with a bolt of blue
It's no problem of mine but it's a problem I find
Living a life that I can't leave behind
There's no sense in telling me
The wisdom of a fool won't set you free

z) Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall

Wow, you made it. Good work. You deserve to be happy. Watch "where the hell is Matt?" now. And if you've already seen it, go on and watch again. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY

Tribeca in Doha

2009-10-19T12:21:00.001+03:00

Exciting thing of the day - The Doha Tribeca Film Festival launches October 29. Ten days. It’s the first time the festival has come to Doha. Needless to say, Qatar residents are kiiiind of looking forward to it.

Expectations are high. The city is ripe with anticipation. Interest on the Facebook group is surging. I’ve never seen so many “like” comments in my entire, fruitful online life. General media coverage has been excellent too. The local press has been saturated with all things DTFF for weeks. Amanda Palmer (Executive Director and unofficial Doha cinematic siren {not my words}) is presently on the cover of our most respectable magazine and is quoted in the papers pretty much daily.

And surprise, surprise – on top of all of the hype, the film list is actually worth checking out.

Since this is Qatar, loud whispers run rampant through our dusty city. The Doha rumour mill has been steadily churning for ages. People are talking about who’s coming, who’s not coming, who’s censoring what, and where the best parties are. My friend Brenda desperately wants to hit up a red carpet and wear a ball gown to something, ANYTHING. I hear that.

The organizers kept the celebrity guest list hush hush until recently. De Niro will definitely be in town, along with Slumdog Millionaire director Danny Boyle. I have a feeling there are more “stars” coming but they haven’t confirmed yet. My buddy is the Tribeca new media guy and I can’t get any information out of him. I even got him drunk. Nothing. He’s like a stoic, spectacle-sporting vault.

It’s all just very exciting to have some action in Doha after the long and brutal summer. Maybe there’s even too much action - check this Doha planning fail – the film fest and Sony Ericsson Women’s tennis tournament (Williams sisters, holla) fall on the same days. What a crock. Doha holds four events per year that I actually want to attend and they stick two of them on the same week. Good thing I have a blog to complain on or I might have had to take this on the up and up.

Where does the up and up lead to, anyway?

For the record, I choose Tribeca over women’s tennis. The men’s program would have been a lot tougher to miss.

Can we talk about Balloon Boy for a second?

2009-10-18T13:26:00.001+03:00

On Thursday (evening, Doha time) I, like the rest of you, was caught up in the real life drama of balloon boy. We watched enraptured, at what we all thought was a six year-old boy floating through the sky at a fantastic speed.We felt assured when we learned his name was Falcon, certain that everything was going to be all right. We listened to weather reports with an urgency never felt before. Our hearts raced when MSNBC cut away as the balloon descended to the moment of impact. It was scary and thrilling real-time entertainment too good to make up.

But we all spoke and tweeted and set our Facebook statuses too soon.

After landing, we quickly learned there was no one in the balloon. Then we found out the family was on Wife Swap and the boys record songs with filthy lyrics in their spare time. Then we learned Falcon was hiding in the attic, heard his parents yelling and didn’t come out because “they were doing it for the show.” THEN we found out his parents were shopping around Jon and Kate style reality shows to major networks. Now the father will likely face criminal charges for being a lying sack of famewhore.

This family played us for a bunch of fools. What the hell. I’m furious but shouldn't be surprised. If reality television has taught me anything, it’s that people are awful. This balloon boy mess is like the baby who fell in the well in the ‘80s, except it’s the new millennium, meaning the baby isn’t in the well and its parents faked the whole thing and I hate everyone.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so jaded. Let’s play the Pollyanna game here. Some people may be awful, but let’s not focus on the balloon boy family, that utter waste of space. Let’s focus on the innocent two hours we all experienced together, glued to the television and Interwebs. Those two hours when we let the unseen balloon boy into our hearts, no questions asked. Those glorious two hours when the world rallied around the safe landing of a makeshift hovercraft. We were one.

Turns out, we still can care for something. And maybe it takes a couple of dirty, rotten, lying parents to remind us of this very fact.

Positivity is all around!

Reaching for new levels of inanity

2009-10-13T14:42:00.003+03:00

This post brought to you by puppies.

I’ve subscribed to the Daily Puppy for some time now. If you’re not familiar with the site, you should think about getting up from under that rock, you dummy! The Daily Puppy is an Internet cornerstone. It’s the old, familiar place to go when you need an “awww” moment. Conveniently, it’s also the place to go when you need to laugh at crazy dog ladies who comment on photos of puppies all day.

Here’s how the Daily Puppy works - people send in pictures of their puppy. A new puppy photo is posted daily. Site visitors then rank the puppy, giving him virtual bones (every puppy gets a score of 10 out of 10 bones) and talk about how precious he is. Trust me, it’s a hoot.

I read the Daily Puppy daily. Sometimes I even give away virtual bones. Sounds dumb, but this sprawling level of lameness makes me an authority on the cuteness of every dog.

Don’t think reading the Daily Puppy is enough to make me an authority? Read on.

At nine years of age, I spent three weeks (an ETERNITY for a nine year-old) writing and illustrating what I thought was the world’s first Dog Breed Dictionary. I made it to the letter 'D.' Good thing we didn’t have the Internet back then because a simple Google search would have left me sorely disappointed.

Through my lifetime, I’ve owned ten different dogs, and held seven doggy funerals. How many tears have you shed standing over a shallow grave that holds your fluffy companion? HOW MANY?

Also, I’m just an excellent judge of beauty.

As such, I’ve decided to rank the five cutest puppy breeds, in descending order….with photos. And once my list is uncovered, I hope the discussion on world's cutest puppy can come to its adorable conclusion.

Presenting....

The Cutest Puppy Breeds

4. Basset Hound

3. Chow Chow

2. Beagle

1. Inbred

Wonky/Liza trumps those purebreds every time. Err time.

I guess you can debate who's the cutest, but leave the connatural (wonky one) out of it.

DKM Posted!

2009-10-12T13:32:00.000+03:00

Go look! He wrote about baseball! For some reasons comments are disabled on his post and I can’t figure out how to get them back, so if you have anything to say about the stupid, smelly Red Sox and DKM’s excellent post, you can leave them here.

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving! I hope everyone back home ate and drank like royalty.

The Greatest Baseball Game I've Ever Seen

2009-10-12T12:41:00.007+03:00

So as is often recognized on this blog, living in Doha has it perks. However, watching live baseball games is not one of them. Heading into this year’s MLB postseason, I was excited. The thing I looked forward to most was seeing my least favorite team of any sport on the planet, the Boston Red Sox, lose in as humiliating a way as possible.

I geared up my excitement in the weeks leading up to the playoffs by going up to strangers wearing playoff-bound team merchandise to wish them luck, and to ask them simply to eliminate the Red Sox.

But before any viewing would take place, we needed to upgrade our satellite TV package at home. We went for the “shiny platinum exquisite diamond” package, or something like that. To my sincere disappointment, the one channel that broadcasts the MLB is the only network that we can’t pick up on the satellite. It doesn’t work. Mush mumkin.

I needed a back-up plan. I Bing’d it and found some very shady package where for only $40 a year I can watch all sports via the interwebs. “Deal!”, I thought.

So when I realized yesterday that a potential elimination game for the Red Sox would be an afternoon game in the U.S., I got my first opportunity to watch this year’s postseason live.

With God making up for the struggles I went through to enjoy this annual activity, I got blessed with the best game a Red Sox hater could ask for.

Here is the round-up…

Red Sox get an early lead off Angel’s starter Scott Kazmir and go ahead 5-1.

By the end of the 7th it’s looking like Boston may get to hang around for at least one more game. But with two outs in the top of the eighth the Angels make it interesting, putting 2 runners on base in a 5-2 game. The tying run comes to the plate.

Enter Jonathan Papelpon a.k.a. red sox nation posterboy/largest douche to ever wear a professional uniform. So this is Terry Franf***face’s “solution” to extending their season. Papelpon needs a 4 out save. With runners on, Papelbon gives up a 2-RBI single. It is now 5-4. As Red Sox fans begin shitting their pants, Papelbon ends the eighth with a lucky pick-off. The crowd finally exhales.

Due to their inflated payroll and Big Fati finally getting his 1st hit of the playoffs, the Red Sox get an insurance run. 6-4 Red Sox, heading into the 9th.

With Papelbon, who in his career of 27 postseason innings had never allowed an earned run, coming back on to do his 9th inning jig, losers (in hats they bought cause they saw other people wearing it) all over the world start playing with themselves like its all over. Disgusting Boston accents shout out “The Red Sox will win in 5” all over the pissholes of the rotten city known as "beantown".

Papelbon does as he does best and quickly retires the first two batters he faces. So with two outs in the top of the 9th, the Angels #9 hitter, Erick Aybar comes up. The skipper elects not to pinch hit for him. Seems like Scioscia suspects something spectacular. Like he was supposed to, Aybar backs up his manager’s plan with a textbook, line-drive single to center.

The crafty leadoff hitter, Chone Figgins, comes up trying to keep the two-out rally going. He does his part by reaching with a base on balls.

All of a sudden Papeldouche looks shaky.

With a stroke of brilliance, another Sox-killer, ex-yankee Bobby Abreu rings a shot off the green monster. Aybar scores, but Figgins, one of the speediest guys in the league, is held at 3rd!

The Angels still face a mighty task as they are still down by a run and need to keep this two out rally against Papelbon going. The Boston coaches and infield elect to have a chat with the hot-headed closer to re-focus him on his task. After all, the odds are with him and his defence that they’ll get the next out, and start fresh in Game 4, with a chance to tie the series up at 2.

At the coaches discretion, an intentional walk loads the bases.

What were they thinking? The intentionally walked to bring Vlad “the man” Guerrero up?!? Boy, he looks like he might hit a ball over 600 feet. However, his career playoff batting average and his career stats vs. Papelbon don’t inspire much confidence.

But in an act of redemption and leadership, Vlady hits a first-pitch, four-seam fastball weakly to straight-away center. Ellsbury can’t get there…It drops!

Figgins scores!!

Abreu scores!! Angels go ahead 7-6!

But, of course, the hometown Rednecks still get to bat for three more outs. Mike Scioscia has been warming up his closer in the top of the 9th just in case something like this occurred. Fuentes comes in to silence Fenway for at least another 6 months.

Jed Lowrie pops out like a punnani pansy. 1 out.

Jacoby Ellsbury tries to muster up a rally. The count quickly goes 0-2. Ellsbury is in a hole. In a last ditch attempt to get on base he pops up to the catcher in foul territory. Is there a worse thing you can do? Even striking out earns more respect. Two out.

But…before the corks start getting popped in LA LA land., the golden boy of the Boston franchise, winner of rookie of the year in his first year and AL MVP in only his second season, Dustin Pedroia comes up to save the day for Boston. Right? Right?!?!?
WRONG. Pedroia’s weak pop-up doesn’t leave the infield. ha ha ha ha ha ha

The Red Sox, led by Terry “butttttt I’ve never lost a World Series game” Francona are eliminated in the first round in 3 games.

It’s a SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP, and I gotz mah broom!!!!!!!

Nuggets

2009-10-06T14:43:00.002+03:00

It’s time for a smattering of nuggets from around the webosphere. Because if there’s anything I like to do, it’s share my superior grasp of web sport (no softball jokes please) with you. Okay you’re on Google Reader. Give me some of that sweet, sweet pep….

First, let’s check in with Mashable (the female social media geek’s choice) who tells us:

There’s yet another reason Apple brand loyalists can feel superior to Windows users. Mac owners are wealthier than PC owners. Does this mean hipsters are going to reject the Mac and revert back to a clunky Dell? Wait and see, friends.

Mac-loving hipster photo via Gawker

When celebrities die, people share sad feelings on Facebook. But don’t worry because Thanksgiving is a happy time.

If you have kids or plan on bringing small people into the world, do humankind a favour and keep them away from the computer. Yes, I see the irony in posting this article directly after my last entry but it’s serious. If CNN and a research facility predict the future correctly, the next generation of kids will suffer from chronic internet addiction. I think I have that. According to the report, “ADHD and hostility were linked to Internet addiction in all children, while social phobia and depression were linked to internet addiction in girls.”

Wait a minute. ADHD started long before Al Gore invented the Internet, folks. But the social phobia and depression part isn’t surprising. Kids are mean! I’m so glad to have skipped the whole cyber-bullying thing. Think about it, fellow twenty-somethings. If kids in the playground can be mean, surely kids shrouded in anonyminity on the Internet must be seven hundred times as awful. Shudder.

You see that? It's the hairy arm of corruption.

Well that was uplifting. What else, what else…

Are you sick of the Letterman story yet? Too bad, your opinion doesn’t matter. Last night, Dave’s employee Craig Ferguson defended his boss. While expected, Ferguson’s monologue was still infinitely funnier and classier than Jimmy Fallon’s response:

"There’s a new book out called Why Women Have Sex that has a list of the 237 reasons why women have sex, and Letterman knows the top ten.”

I don't get it. Does that make any sense to you? I could totally be a Jimmy Fallon staff writer: Top Ten list! Ummmm….Stupid human tricks! Errr…..You got any gum? Bleeeeecccch.

And who is Jimmy Fallon to call out Letterman? Show some respect, newbie.

Anyway, Letterman hosted his first show after “the confession” and used it as a platform to apologize to pretty much everyone. Why can’t this just go away already? I guess I’m not helping the cause much. Hypocrisy abounds.

Next!

Do you know what a capybara is? Please, watch this video of a popsicle-hungry cute face and educate yourself. That woman is totally me in 45 years.

And THEN watch a tiny cat jump.

I feel better too.

Somebody please get me out of this

2009-10-06T12:46:00.001+03:00

The end of the MLB regular season brings a new wave of baseball fervor into my life. Last week, I joined a co-ed softball league for players over 16. DKM forwarded me the e-mail and his little boy excitement left me no choice but to enroll. I signed up immediately, thinking the league would be akin to Toronto beer leagues. You know the type - players who suck are good-naturedly laughed at and everyone celebrates with a couples of rounds at the local pub after games. I’ve never actually joined a beer league but have heard that these are the wonderful things that happen within.

After a few days, I changed my mind about the whole situation. Why the change of heart? I realized I’m actually going to have to play on Saturday and that I totally stink at softball. At least, I think I do. I’ve never played. I love watching baseball and enjoy the occasional game of catch, but when it comes to actually playing the sport in a competitive environment, I choke. I’d rather spend time at the gym on a stationary treadmill where I probably won’t hurt myself.

I’m a professional armchair athlete. Newly-minted Jays GM Alex Anthopolous proves you can be successful in sports when you're not a total jock. There’s no shame in sucking at softball (keep telling yourself that, blondie).

After creeping the e-mails/Facebook profiles (don’t look surprised) of my fellow players, it seems I’m in terrifying company. First, there’s a team made up of 25 South Americans (with a 14-man roster, they have ELEVEN alternates). Is it racist to be horrified at the thought of playing the South American team? Probably yes. Also, there are about 12 players whose e-mail addresses lead me to believe they’re in the Army. The trained killers are going to whiffle balls right at my face. While the broken nose look is kind of rugged and hot, it wouldn’t suit me. It seems like I’ve signed up for a competitive endeavor in which I could very likely fail. This makes me sick to my stomach.

But, now we play the Pollyanna Glad Game, an exercise in positivity….. MAYBE I won’t be the worst player on the team. MAYBE I’ll make some new friends and have a few laughs and find out my inner jock has been screaming for a chance to beat up my outer computer nerd. MAYBE I will only be laughed at my very first at bat.

Maybe everyone will hate me.

Pollyanna can’t help me now. DKM, won’t you chime in and save me from this unattractive spiral of self-doubt? We’re talking softball here. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET YOU TO WRITE A BLOG POST!?

David, David, David.

2009-10-03T15:20:00.004+03:00

I hate this story.

Damn you, extortionist for making me think about David Letterman without his suit on.

But that's what you get for idolizing mere mortals, kids. Box Cat and Riverdancing Dog would never play you like that.

It's upsetting. I'm starting to think that monogamy is the hardest thing for people to do in the world. Harder than running marathons or tending to the sick and dying. Harder than giving away all of your money. Harder than giving up the Internet.

Governments should start doling out large sums of money to couples who actually make their relationship work without putting their hands in multiple cookie jars. Everyone's a damn cheater. From now on, these are the only ways to genuinely shock me:

1.) You are faithful to your husband/wife (doesn't count until you make it legal).
2.) You think Lindsay Lohan isn't on drugs. She's just an artist!
3.) You can get me tickets to game seven of the Stanely Cup playoffs in a game in which the Leafs are playing.

That's all. If I were a colour, it'd totally be jade.

Back to Dave. I'm certain Letterman will come out of this smelling of a classy, adulterizing hero (not unlike Bill Clinton), but I'm concerned his show is forever tainted for me. Why? One of the staff members Dave had an affair with is "Intern Vicky." She used to appear on the "know your current events" and "name that cut of meat" skits. She brought participants their dinner gift certificate, wore a Letterman jacket and acted snarky. Dave ate it up. I remember saying to my mother once, "this girl always makes Dave laugh. She must be hilarious." No doubt she's funny, but now we know there was something more salacious going on. And it tastes like barf. Dave sleeping with Intern Vicky is probably as unsettling as Rupert and Bif Henderson having an affair.

What's the opposite of right? I can't remember.

Tainted or not, whatever you do please don't start watching Leno.

Need a funny video to cheer you up? Well, tough luck. I have nothing to offer. Why don't you try offering ME something for once in your life? Jerks.

I'm drinking a caesar right now...

2009-09-26T15:21:00.005+03:00

.and it's three p.m. Excuse if this post reads a little melodramatic. Emo on a Saturday.

One week in Rome. Probably the most amazing of my life. Every street, every corner, every inch of it is beautiful. Even the striking unioners' protest signs fit in with Rome's inredible backdrops. Even the stray cats have a sophisticated charm. Hell, even the garbage bins were cool. We ate and drank like kings. Our hotel room was upgraded to a suite, so we had a sprawling balcony with a view of St. Peter's. We watched a three hour lighting storm move across the sky from that spot, but weren't touched by one drop of rain. I was blessed by the Pope -- a thrill for any good Catholic girl.

But the best part? Each decadent minute was spent with the most hilarious and agreeable travel partner anyone could ask for.

I'm officially a sap.

I am so grateful for the chance to go. Who knows where I'd be now, if my life wasn't transported to Qatar. Sure, there are gripes about living in a sandbox, but when you're a mere five hour flight from Italy, Africa, the Maldives...and you can take time off to go to these places, it's hard not to feel really, really lucky. I feel lucky.

Okay, enough of that. Let's get back to the fun business at hand. So many cool things have popped up on the Interwebz the past few weeks. Let's explore.

First up, is an article by Canadian journalist, Deborah Campbell on "the most hated name in news," Al Jazeera. Deborah wrote most of this while embedded in Qatar for a few weeks. I had the pleasure of hanging out with her a few times. She's young, attractive and brilliant. She's been everywhere and has seen so so many things. She calls herself an "amateur anthropologist," a term I'm kinddd of in love with. You can find a lot of her previous works online. All of her past stories for the Walrus are here. Her aticles are the kind you want to print out and enjoy with a cup of coffee (you can also buy the latest issue of the Walrus, which would love your support). As a Canadian women I'm really proud and awed of all she's accomplished. Check her out.

Next!

Do you write run-on sentences? Do you use a comma when a period will do? Do I? According to the National Post (and my twitter crush, Grammar Girl) you are probably part of the Facebook generation. The generation (my generation) who is solely responsible for the erosion of the English language. Please. People have been crying about the degradation of language and grammar for years. It's always the younger generation's fault. Because every person over 40 uses correct grammar 100% of the time, and people 25 and under are fools. It's as if once you turn 40 your spelling and grammar become impeccable. Lies!

I just checked my facebook wall and inbox and took an impromptu survey of the way young people write. Most of my friends actually sound like snug fitting smarty pants. Gasp! Then again, maybe we're just the clever ones.

Fellow young people- let's strike back at our critics. Avoid lazy fingers. Take an extra thirty seconds to capitalize your wall posts. Think for a minute about what you want to say. Then re-write it. Edit yourself mercilessly. Don't give the grammar police an inch. We're smart and we know how to express ourselves like civilized people. Stand up for yourself poindexter! Now read #99 of Stuff White People Like to understand this rant.

On the same thread, check out Copyblogger's list of the top ten blogs for writers. People love lists.

What else has caught my attention of late?

Well, I'm obsessed with literal versions of music videos on YouTube. Ever wish songs just sang what was happening in the music video? Well now they do! The best is probably Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart. Link is here.

Next!

Did you see Pete and Trudy's charleston on Mad Men? If yes, then you have been witness to the best minute and a half of television from the past ten years. It is perfect.

Video here. Look at their fancy feet. I want to be them! I keep replaying the dance over and over in my head. In fact, in Rome, I tried to recreate it (solo) on our balcony after day champagne and night vino and FAILED.

Stop me if you've heard this before

2009-09-14T15:04:00.005+03:00

It has been a good week for uncharacteristic human behaviour (aka gossip). Serena Williams and her meltdown. TIFF ’09. Kanye West not caring about white people.

Are you expecting me to talk about Kanyese and T.Swift like everyone else? Or to make fun of Serena (I wouldn’t, still love her) or to whine about how I’m not at TIFF this year, while last year’s TIFF was like two weeks of pop culture nerd heaven. I met the cast of Degrassi! They are all four feet tall and smoke.

I would love to talk about those things, but don’t hold your breath. I would love to talk about how nobody effs with Taylor Swift but how this is the best thing to EVER happen to her career and that even an apology written in ALL CAPS can’t save Kanye now. I would love to talk about how Swift is a total class act and that if I had a kid I would totally let her listen to her music and read her twitter thoughts, and not just because she writes country songs. In fact, I’d love to talk about how I might just buy some T.Swift records now and play them for my kids later because you know the stuff they’ll listen to is going to be even more vapid and skanky than Miley Cyrus and those offensive womanizers, the Jonas Brothers.

Monkey puppets.

I would love to talk about these things, but everything that can possibly be said about the VMAs fiasco has already been said while I was sleeping. Even people who live blogged the awards/US Open/TIFF aren’t giving us anything original. There are just too many damn voices on the Interwebz. This one included. But try and shut me up world, just try

And since I’m expressly not talking about Taylor Swift (19 year-old badass), I’ll talk about something else. Herr go….

On vacation in Toronto this summer, my friend Meg asked a question I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. It was, “if you could live out one completely unrealistic profession, what would it be?”

My answer: Actress.

Meg’s answer: Broadway actress (she would make a fantastic Anne of Green Gables).

So we’re both attention whores. Who knew?

DKM’s answer: Baseball player. Obviously.

Your answer? Probably a Cookie Monster.

After thinking about this for some time, I'd like to tweak my answer slightly. I would still choose actress – visions of grandeur and fluffy dresses and mobile phone throwing persist, of course. Specifically, I want to be an actress who wins over David Letterman. One of my most unrelenting daydreams involves walking onstage at the Ed Sullivan Theatre and sitting next to Dave in a small black dress and incredible shoes while making him chortle. I’ve spent hours going over what I would say to get him to laugh instead of belittling me like he does with Paris “I’ll buy you a parakeet” Hilton, Renee Zellwegger and Farah Fawcett (that one time).

Dave doesn’t like every actress. That much is clear. His favourites are probably (because I’ve totally asked him, ugh I’m so nerdy), Julia Roberts and Drew Barrymore. And you can stop right there with the “but Drew Barrymore showed him her boobs” rebuttal. I wouldn’t have to flash Dave to win him over. His love for Drew goes way beyond that infamous interview. I mean, Courtney Love did the same thing and she doesn’t hold rank on the Late Show at all.

Just the other day, I thought about how cool it would be to insult “that hump” Jay Leno on Dave’s couch and watch his delighted/horrified reaction. Then I started thinking about how alienating Jay Leno would be like alienating all of NBC, and how I’d never get to guest star on 30 Rock that way. That’s probably the only reason people are so nice to Leno, right?** Fool needs to stop stealing Conan’s thunder.

**Everyone except Howard Stern and Rosie O’Donnell who called him a robot on Stern’s radio show. Awesome!

Clearly, I’ve thought about my famous action plan and how not to have a bunch of stage hands write an open letter about how I’m “as ungracious a person as you can ever fathom.” And my famous action plan is really a complicated roadmap to Dave’s heart in disguise.

Hey, I said 30 Rock! Have you seen the website where a fan wrote down everything Tracy Jordan said in season three? The lines are there without context. It’s brilliant in a pathetic fan boy kind of way. I’ll wait here while you go look. Not going? Here are my favourites:

"I watched Boston Legal 9 times before I realized it wasn’t a new Star Trek."

“I hate to see you like this, Ken Doll. It’s like an owl without a graduation cap. Heartbreaking!”

“Well, if all you want is a hug from a black person, maybe you should just host the Price is Right.”

What is this, Horseville? Cause I am surrounded by nay-sayers. Wordplay!

Aaaand I’ve exhausted everything there is possibly to say about celebrities today. I should probably go read the Bible or something of substance. Somebody buy me a parakeet.

**TIFF Update. My mom ran into Marlon Wayans who told her that Michael Jackson was no pedophile. I think that case is officially closed.