Our dirt bikes bring all the boys to the yard. Damn right, they're better than yours.

Friday, May 13, 2005


The first issue of the Gateway in three years that I had no input into hit the stands yesterday, and while I thought my reaction would be one of vague nostalgia and regret, instead it was one of amazement—at how quickly I've stopped caring. I read the first half of the first article, chastised Dave for the errors I found, and then gave it to some stranger at the Black Dog who was really, really excited about the fact that I was holding a Gateway for some reason. I thought of picking up another one, but never got around to it.

Everyone who left before me always told me what a relief it was being free of the pseudo-professionalism and ridiculous office politics, but they hated the paper long before they ever left (not that I didn't, necessarily, but it was still kind of a loving hate), so I figured it would be a little different for me. Nope, though, not in the least. In fact, I feel kind of lame for even writing about it. Go figure.

Thursday, May 12, 2005


Already, the habit of updating this blog every day as I promised myself I would is waning; gotta keep typing. Just as a shark needs to keep swimming even while it's asleep to keep a steady flow of water streaming through its gills, so must I type. If I stop typing for any reason, I'll die.

So as some of you might know, Kristine and I first started organizing this trip to Europe back in late September when we booked our first flight; since then, I've been counting down the number of issues of Vue I had to complete until we flew to Toronto. When we first started the countdown, I had 37 issues to do. Now, looking at the dry-erase U of A calendar I bought in first year after I forgot about a midterm and an essay in the same week, it's saying that that number is now 2. Two! Holy jesus, is this trip coming up fast. Since I'll be away for two issues and there's no one really to take my place, I've got to get my shit together and organize that content. Pretty soon it's going to be zero-hour here, and I'm going to totally start panicking. But for now, I'll just sit here and drink my coffee and eat my cottage cheese and banana. It's almost noon, sure, but it's still breakfast time.

Kristine and I went out to the Dog last night with Dave and Leah and two Gateway kids, Iris Tse and James Storrie, for Kristine's unofficial (yet actual) birthday celebration. It's not hot enough outside yet for the throngs of white-ballcap-wearing assholes to start choking the upstairs patio, so we got to enjoy some spring evening air along with some pints. Ran into freelance illustrator and rock guy Raymond Biesinger who I hadn't seen for a while even though he does spot work for me once in a while; we had a good talk, complete with many utterances of the words "indeed," "hotsville" and "mm-hmm!"

It was hotsville, indeed.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Je suis plus age maintenant

For some reason you can't type accents in the titles of blogs, but you can in the body. So that's supposed to say âgé, not age. ISN'T THAT INTERESTING?!?

Anyway, I'm 22 today. I remember all those bitter jerks who are older than me telling me last year that 21 was the last exciting birthday I'd ever have, and I hate to admit it, but they're kind of right. I mean, I know it's only 1:30 in the afternoon, and I've only been awake for about an hour and a half, but really: aren't birthdays supposed to be full of champagne and presents and unicorns and things? Not, like, worrying about why the health minister isn't calling me for an interview? Plus, normally I irritate everyone I know in the 20 or so days leading up to my birthday by planning for it and talking about it constantly (only to be horribly disappointed because I got my expectations up too much, of course), but I have to admit, I actually kept forgetting that my birthday was this week, and when I woke up this morning, it wasn't even the first thing I thought about. In fact, my thought process went something like this: "Why isn't Iris Evans phoning me? This article's going to suck if I can't talk to her. Oh yeah, it's my birthday. You know what would make my day? If Iris Evans phoned me."

That's right, I actually lay there in bed, thinking to myself in full sentences like that. It was weird.

Anyway, for those of you who still live in Edmonton, Dave Berry and I will be jointly celebrating our birthdays at the Black Dog this Friday starting at 9pm. You should come. And things. It'll be "rad," as the kids say.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005


Hey, have you ever wondered what a blog written from the perspective of a band of fictional Dungeons and Dragons characters called "The Regulators" would sound like? Then, buddy, greys-deep.blogspot.com is for you. And in case you're too lazy to check, it sounds crazy. Like this latest entry, for example:

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Daring raid by unknown bandits - 10th of Melting
A band of unknown bandits broke into Mr. Koskin's barn overnight and made off with several of his penned sheep.
It isn't known who stole the animals, but lots of small humanoid footprints were spotted at the scene.
Mr. Koskin is asking for help in protecting his farm from these bandits. His family relies on their sheep for making fabric and providing food for the family.

I think 10th of Melting is a date.


I was about to go to bed when I remembered I promised Chris I'd write a post tonight or something. I'm watching Girls Gone Wild right now (what? Can you think of anything better to be doing at 2am?), and I'm being told over and over again that the best things come in pairs. Like, uh, shoes. And hands. Having two hands is waaay better than having one.

They also keep showing this clip where they tell a girl they'll give her a Girls Gone Wild tank top if she shows them her tits. She does, but spends the whole time looking like she's going to cry. Kind of makes you think: was that shitty, too-small tank top that shows off your tits worth showing off your tits for? If only I lived in Dallas ...

now less retarded!

Thanks, Mike, for pointing out how people weren't allowed to comment unless they were registered users; that little bit of pointless bureaucracy has been eliminated. So start commenting on things, jerks. THAT'S WHAT MAKES BLOGS FUN.

Monday, May 09, 2005

foonuccaa indeed, sir.

A photo of some very confusing Edmontonian graffiti snapped by our friend Fish Griwkowsky a few months ago. It's amazing that someone took the time to spraypaint this, isn't it? FOONUCCAA!

gentlemen, to fascination, and all its fascinating causes.

Well, not much to say at the moment, but I think it's worthwhile to note that if you search for our blog title in quotes on Google, you get an entry from some old cached blog by a woman named Courtney which I can only assume is about a cat:

04/17/2003 Entry: "some cats are bigger than others"
Mister has a white feather boa that is his best friend and his favorite toy. Sometimes he walks around with the boa in his mouth, strands of feathers dragging between his legs and getting tangled in his feet. Sometimes he runs at it and pounces. Sometimes he wears it around his belly or head like an article of jewelry.
Work sucked today.

If nothing else, we can at least take solace in the fact that I promise to never write anything on this blog as completely depressing as that. Still, it's actually kind of creepy how someone else wrote that exact same stupid, random sentence on their webpage.

Also of interest to no one, Courtney's now-defunct blog was registered at www.sherwood.nu. Not recognizing the .nu domain, I looked it up, and found the following:

.NU was originally the designated Internet address of Niue, a tiny island in the South Pacific, not far from New Zealand. With a declining population - now just 1200 people since cyclone Heta all but wiped Niue off the map with its 300kph winds and 20-metre waves - the .NU ccTLD became available to registrants worldwide in 1997.

Niue has always had an exotic and fresh reputation - as well as plenty of international interest. It is perhaps most famous as the only nation to offer free wireless (WiFi) Internet access to residents, and it's two main foreign income streams are the sale of .nu domain names, and postage stamps to foreign collectors - the vast majority of whom will never visit the island!

Over 100,000 .nu domains have so far been registered, mostly in the Swedish market, where "nu" means "now". It also means "naked" in French but the French porn industry has yet to really capitalise on the domain.

Must be quite a status symbol to have a site registered on a domain that belongs to a country that was pretty much destroyed by God. And also means "naked" in French.

Sunday, May 08, 2005

The biggest cat of them all: Lord Pawmerston

I've never had a blog before, so I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by this whole "jumping on the technology bandwagon several years later than is considered cool" thing. Truth be told, any time I've been involved with any kind of blog in the past (ie. the Gateway blog) I've been a pretty unenthusiastic contributor, to say the least. That said, I promise to take this one a little more seriously. Mainly because it's a lot easier than e-mailing everyone with annoying updates about how much fun we're having while they're stuck living out their mundane lives in Edmonton (Dave, I'm looking at you). Also because Chris will get pretty upset if I don't and do what he always does when he's sad at me (he's never really told me what that is, but if I had to guess I would assume it has something to do with drawing pastel pictures of ponies).

Anyway, we totally don't leave for, like, two and a half weeks, but in the meantime I, being unemployed, will be checking this hourly, praying that someone will post something witty that will kill a minute or two of my endless days. Hmmmm ... maybe we should tell some people about this first. Whatever.

Also: my birthday's in three days!!!!!!!!1!!!!! If you want to see me looking a little something like this, for some reason, come out to the Black Dog on Friday.

Uh, never mind. I have no idea how to post photos on here yet, so just try your best to imagine me looking totally retarded. Which should be pretty hard, because I'm so damn good looking.

the future is just over there to the left.

Ah, New Year's 2005 at the old Garneau Pub, before pretty much everyone we knew got jobs and moved to Toronto in the next couple months. (With the exception of one, who moved to Medicine Hat.) If you've never been to the Garneau, it's a ten-table smoke chamber just off Whyte Ave, featuring two pool tables and matching twin hunched Greek owners who hobble to and fro grabbing the asses of their employees and occasionally hosting mob meetings in the adjacent and never-actually-eaten-in restaurant, Plato's Pizza. Which makes awesome pizza.

Anyhow, here's Kristine and I, for the sake of reference. I'm the one who's not a girl (or, if you can't tell, the one wearing a tie). Zoom!

the following things are interesting:

Dear readers, hello. As you can tell, we're just kind of getting things off the ground with this here "weblog," but yes. If you're reading this, thank you. We'll try not to be too boring.

So basically, my girlfriend Kristine and I are going to be leaving for a two-and-a-half-week vacation to Europe in a couple of weeks (headed to the three most obvious capital cities to visit, London, Paris and Rome because we're incredibly original), and we got to talking about setting up a travel blog instead of bombarding people will inane emails making references to places they've never been and waxing pathetic about how weird the food is there and how much they miss everyone; rather than forcing our blatherings upon your friends, we figured we'd let our friends determine how often and to what degree they wished to be blathered to. So here we are. Are you feeling it?

But now that I've spent a couple hours arranging shit and fussing with a colour palette on this thing, I find myself thinking it would be kind of cool to just keep this page going as a blog in general. This was an odd thing to find myself thinking, seeing as I have historically dismissed this medium as too disposable and masturbatory, and especially seeing as I already write a far more disposable and masturbatory column called Life After Gretzky for Vue Weekly, Edmonton's independent news and arts magazine. God knows the last thing I'll probably feel like doing is writing when I get home from a day of more writing--and paid writing at that--but hey. For some reason, I think it's "neat," and frankly, I've done a lot stupider things for that reason than set up a blog. Like stapling my dink to a chair, for example. Or voting NDP in a federal election.

Anyhow, long story in four words: me giving blog try. So join us, won't you, as Kristine and I traverse this swirling fantasia of joy and excitement that is life in the hinterland, albeit a swirling fantasia briefly punctuated by the actual swirling fantasia that will be my first trip overseas. When we get back, everyone gets birthday cake. Every day, for the rest of their lives.