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Junio 29, 2004

Vanity Plates

Don't like them at all. I thought they were the coolest when I was little, but I really can't stand them now. I first thought of posting an entry about them months ago, but decided to wait and slowly gather a list of the worst ones in my brain so that I'd have something to refer to when I said I hated them. Sadly though, my brain is like a sieve, and even though I tried to commit several to memory, I forgot them all. Well, all but one -- the Mazda RX7 I saw with the vanity plate that said: COOLRX7. Terrible. Am I supposed to see it and go: "Hey, that IS a cool RX7!!.." Is that what the guy (you know it's a guy) expects? Buddy, I can make my own mind up as to whether your shitty car is cool or not -- and I'll tell you right now it's not. I don't think his attempt to make people think his car is cool by using the word 'cool' on the plate is fooling anybody. In which case, it cost him $212 to tell people he has an RX7, which we already know.

By the way, did you know that your application for a vanity plate can be rejected if it's considered profane, sexual or even religious? All the less reason to get one. Nevertheless, if you are an idiot or an egomaniac or something, and you want to find out more about these stupid waste of money license plates, you can go here.

Posted by King at 05:21 PM | Comments (10)

Junio 28, 2004

A Low Blow from the Ether

I love natural selection.

Posted by at 04:05 PM | Comments (11)

Does anyone know how to get day-old cat shit off of shoes?

After a smashing weekend I came home this morning to find that a cat had shit on two pairs of my shoes. Not our cat, a cat that had snuck into the apartment thanks to my flatmates' persistent carelessness about leaving windows open (in spite of the fact that we've had multiple incidents involving cats and raccoons infiltrating our house, one cat in particular sprayed the VCR). The cat that shat was a cat that I had seen in the house on Saturday evening and that I thought I had shoo'd out of the house but clearly I had not succeeded. My flatmates obviously didn't seem to mind a mangy-looking cat shitting in our apartment. I love that since I'm the one who insists on keeping the window closed, the cat clearly singled out my shoes to shit all over. One pair of shoes was a highly coveted set of Le Coq Sportifs that I literallty spent two full days searching all of West London for (I eventually found them in a grubby sports shop just off the Queensway but that's another story) and that I loved dearly. I spent a healthy portion of the morning trying to clean this cat shit off of my shoes and my shoes still smell like cat shit. Does anyone know any good ways of cleaning cat shit off of leather and/or imitation leather? Does anyone know of any apartments or rooms for rent that aren't at criminal Little Italy prices and don't have careless flatmates and vindictive free-shitting stray cats in them all the bluddy time!?!?! Does anyone have a large brick that's good for braining mangy free-shitting cats from three storeys up?

Posted by at 11:44 AM | Comments (1)

Junio 24, 2004

Portuguese Victory, English Weather.

I laugh.
So you won at soccer but who's still got a chokehold on Mother Nature?
Bluddy right.
Could you stop honking now because I want to watch Antiques Roadshow?

Posted by at 08:17 PM | Comments (22)

The Best Hairdressers/Barbers in Toronto

Yesterday, I did as I often do when I'm looking to get my locks shorn -- I walked in, at random, to the first hair-cutting place that I saw and took my chances. Needless to say, I was not pleased with the result. I don't really blame the man who cut my hair. I understand that it must be difficult to meet someone for the first time, figure out how their hair works, and provide exactly what they are looking for. I'll allow that you have to get to know a client first, but I will say this: Hairdressers, you can't get to know a client nor can you determine what kind of haircut they are after, if instead of listening, you talk non-stop throughout.

The last hairdresser I had was Erin, a girl filion found, and she was really great. Unfortunately, filion lost her number and she's left the salon she was at. It's kind of a tragedy, but then again, she was pretty expensive.

I've most often gone to barbers in the past, but so many of them don't give a shit I think. The last barber I went to was wearing a really tight track suit that was COVERED in hair, a lot of it cat hair, and he reeked of cigarettes. Shitty haircut. One of the worst ever.

After that I tried a hairdresser. I found a great place, but for some stupid reason, once one person cuts your hair in a salon, you have to go back to that same person all the time, and the woman I ended up with, though she was very nice, didn't pay attention to what she was doing, ever. She talked constantly and would be looking out the window, looking at the person next to her, or having a conversation with someone behind her, all the while snipping away. By the end of it I looked like I'd cut my own hair with a machete. Once, while she was away I got a great haircut from another girl that worked there, but for some reason (and I even asked the owner) I couldn't make the switch. They were afraid to tell her that I preferred somebody else. Instead they started calling me if she was away on vacation: "She's away, you need a haircut?"
"Uh...I was just there yesterday, remember?"
But she went away so rarely. She'd brag about never taking sick days and whatnot and the whole thing just got too annoying. I guess they figured it would hurt her feelings or something, and maybe I should have just said something to her, but I couldn't do it either.

I'm definitely not going back to the guy yesterday. While I'll admit that it was interesting to hear about his stint in rehab and his twenty-four year bender sniffing coke and smoking crack the bottom line is, it wasn't a good haircut. I'm so stupid though. Here's this guy who looks like a Vegas magician telling me he's gonna cut my hair "just like all the boarders" since he saw my skateboard when I came in. First of all, I don't even know that there is a consistent "boarder cut", and second, you can be damn sure that if there was one, this guy didn't know what it was. And most importantly, I didn't even want my hair cut that way. But somehow he appealed to my vanity and I glimpsed myself on my board, with my cool new haircut blowing in the wind, younger skateboarders hollering approval as I whizzed by. Big surprise, it didn't turn out like I expected. I should have been more clear about what I did want. I know for sure that my request of "like an 80s dad" went over his head, and somehow he argued successfully against my request of "shorter, please" so that I ended up with kind of a bowlish bob which displeased me greatly. But I only have myself to blame.

So now I call upon all who read this post to provide the names and locations of the best hairdressers and barbers in Toronto. The only way you find someone good after all is through word of mouth -- or in this case, word of text -- but it would be great if we could get a list going so that the next time I need a haircut I can find, for maybe the first time ever (not counting the elusive Erin) somebody decent.

Posted by King at 01:01 PM | Comments (30)

Junio 22, 2004

I'm selling my democratic rights.

I'm so fed up with the federal election and the fact that I'm not able to support the only totally right-on candidate, a reformed maoist with good suits and and an air of collected confidence. As a result, I'm selling my vote to the highest bidder. Interested parties can choose between the Trinity Spadina and St. Paul's ridings. I will vote for anybody or, if you prefer, decline my vote or spoil my ballot with whatever you want me to write. I will sign an agreement. I don't especially care if this is legal or not.

Posted by at 09:52 PM | Comments (8)

Don't Trust CNN

Have the people at CNN completely lost their minds? Have they turned evil? Has anyone seen their promos? The ones that claim that CNN is "America's most trusted news source." Statements like this make me crazy. I just don't think that it bears any relevance to anything and yet it comes off sounding safe and grandfatherly. "Most trusted?"
First of all, even if I do "trust" CNN more than ABC, does that mean that CNN is telling the truth and ABC is lying? Of course not. It basically means that CNN is just better at lying than ABC.
And you can't just ask the average dumbass who they trust the most and then use that response as an indication of credibility. I mean, you can, and they do, but I think it sucks. Instead of trying people for murder with evidence and all that bullshit, they could just have the suspect tell their story and then have America vote on whether they trust them or not. It would be a lot more convenient after all, but the problem remains -- people lie. And plenty of people are really good at lying.

I only bring all of this up because I saw an even more recent CNN promo last night. Thanks to their survey results, they have now adopted the word "Trust" as their own. It zooms out at you followed by the big CNN graphic. Fans of dystopian fiction take note -- CNN's new promo now literally says : TRUST CNN.

They fucking suck.

Posted by King at 04:03 PM | Comments (1)

Junio 21, 2004

I Have A Theory About Democracy In This Country

On June 28, don't vote For a candidate, don't vote Against a candidate, don't vote At your dad's stodgy imploded political beliefs, don't vote For The Party That Most Suits your Trust Fund Bohemian Lifestyle, VOTE FOR THE PARTY LEAST LIKELY TO WIN. If that means Yogic Flying or Evangelical Zealots then fine. The point is to draw attention to the fact that under the current electoral model in this country, your vote has every chance of being wasted. That's not at all democratic. As a member of the less-than-25 % of the less-than-25-years-old demographic that actually votes, I've only once placed a vote with a candidate that has won. Do you know why young people don't vote? Because, unless they are middle-class transplants in downtown urban areas, their votes don't count and the Big Three know this and legislate accordingly. I'm sick of being part of an also-rans tally; Canada, count my vote. Pay attention to it and give me my share of the government. You know what that means right? I'm entitled to representation that I choose. Give it to me.

Posted by at 10:43 AM | Comments (2)

Junio 17, 2004

One Day Up One Day Down

It would be nice if my mood wasn't so weather dependent or work-related or female-enhanced, and it would be especially nice if my good moods were a little less drug induced.

Even though it seems like I have a problem with marijuana, I know this isn't really the case. I mix tobacco with my weed, and that's what I want, what I crave, what I need. But just to get that little nicotine buzz, I'm doping my brain on a regular basis, and by the time the dope wears off, which is usually pretty quick these days, I'm spaced out and brain dead and kind of irritable.

I think that I am a hedonist. I'm always looking for some kind of something to make me feel good, or even just to change how I feel. Whether it's coffee, or beer, or harder booze, or weed, or coke, or cake, or cookies, or smokes, or having sex, or jerking off, or a hot shower, or something.....anything. I mean, it used to be, back in university that I would just drink and smoke as much as I wanted to on a regular basis. An average night was probably a mickey of gin and six beers at home, then out to the bars for some drinks. In Montreal with the bars shutting down at 3 a.m. there was always plenty of time to get so shitfaced that people would find you passed out in an alleyway, or passed out in the bar, or yelling incoherently at someone. And the next day was sure to bring a healthy dose of pain and shame, prompting me to spend the entire day (so many entire days) in bed.

I didn't like pot much in first year because I got so paranoid. I had a lot of perceptual hallucinations and felt things too intensely. Also, I had a great level of anxiety about my health and would often notice that my heart was beating too fast or that my temperature was dropping, or that if I turned my head the tension in my body was sure to cause my neck to break, and generally I just thought I was going to die.

But something happened in second year. I still got scared, but I had moments of uncontrollable laughter too. And I realised that smoking in the afternoon, making a nice meal, having a few drinks, not twenty, just 6 or 8 and listening to music was really nice. But mostly it was the laughing that got me. Laughing has always been my favorite thing, so I was sure to get involved with pot eventually. It helped of course, that most of the people I got high with were jokers and had good senses of humour.

But now, I really don't laugh more when I've been smoking weed. I do feel pleasure from it. And it relaxes me, temporarily. And it involves smoking. I can't believe I don't smoke anymore. I mean, I hate smoking now. I see it more for what it is, and it is disgusting man -- mostly it just smells bad. But I miss it.

It still looks cool I think, but it reeks and you get dirty. Your clothes are dirtier, your hands, your mouth, it sucks. Also, when I was smoking I had that latent paranoia in my psyche somewhere during every fucking cigarette that was telling me that my body wasn't liking what this was doing. When I was younger I didn't give a shit, but now, I can't pretend that I don't. I just recognize a difference between when I feel healthy and when I don't and I prefer feeling like I have energy and shit. But at the same time, sans cigarettes, I just sit and tap my foot, or drum on the table or bite my hands or run my fingers through my hair and it feels MANIC. But I have to remember that I did that when I was smoking too. I still did those things, I just convinced myself that I felt relief for that five minutes during a smoke.

I can't remember what I wanted to write about when I started this entry. One Day Up One Day Down. Well, I guess that's what I wanted to write about, how everything is in flux. Two days ago I felt amazing. Today I feel borderline depressed. Two days up Two days down? I find it impossible to keep things in perspective sometimes. Why can't I appreciate the great job I have and the great friends and the easy life I've been given. I find that it gets buried under mountains of ambition and huge piles of fear, and while I'm excited for the next chapter of my life I feel I'm clinging to the previous one desperately. If I could only figure out exactly what I want to do, I'm sure I could do it, but right now, I can't narrow it down....I want it all...everything. I'm greedy for everything, but I smoke pot and do nothing. I mean, I probably do a lot more than a lot of people when they smoke weed, but I think that without it I could probably do more.

I just can't cope with that feeling sometimes.

The feeling where all you're doing is sitting down but you need to chew on something stat, or tap your foot so hard that you sprain your leg, or numb your brain before it self-destructs. Know what I mean?

Posted by King at 04:23 PM | Comments (16)

Junio 16, 2004

I Can't Stop Procrastinating

I really can't. I have a spot due today that's fucked. I procrastinated all day and now it's one a.m. and I don't know what to do. I don't have a graphic for the theme: Beauty & The Beach which seems like a problem. I don't know if I can just show a Beautiful girl and then a beach if that's enough. Plus, I'm using "Girls On Film" as the music and it's got this stupid camera noise for at least the first ten seconds of the song -- so you almost have to do a photo thing at the start which'll take forever and look like shit. I don't have a quote from The Good To Be Beyonce show -- now I'm gonna have to go back and scan that again. I didn't see one usable clip the first time round. The E! True Hollywood Story of Supermodels I have 19 possible quotes and a three second space to fill. Wild On Jamaica I haven't digitized yet.

This is what I've accomplished in a twelve hour day. I can't sit still, I can't stop snacking, and I can't stop procrastinating from what I'm supposed to be doing.

I mean, it's a cross-promo which means it's on the other stations as well. The voice-over is terrible as far as I'm concerned. I mean, granted, my script was no gem, but TD sure as hell isn't helping any. In fact, even if the script I wrote had fit in to the allotted time, I wouldn't have been able to use it. It's so sleazy and bored at the same time. He reads "Bootylicious Bombshell Beyonce" like he has moral contempt for her.

Fuck. What am I gonna do? I need to stop procrastinating. Stop Procrastinating. zzzzzzzzzzzzzaaaaaaaaaaaaaa


efffffffffffffffffffffffffff f f f f fffff ff ff ff ff ff ff ff ggggg ggggg
hh iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii j j j j kkkk kk kk kk kk kk kkkkk llllllllllll
mm nnnn nnnnnnn o o o o pppp pp pp pp pp pp ppppp qqqqq
r r r r r r r r r r r r r
sssssssssssssssssssssst u v wwww ww wwww ww wwww ww wwww ww xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx yyyyy zzzzz

I should go back to the Avid to finish my work now.
Even though I'm really thirsty.

Posted by King at 01:37 AM | Comments (0)

Junio 15, 2004

The World Needs Crotch Fastening Systems

While I was on vacation a few weeks ago, I really had a good chance to sit around and stare at my crotch. As a result, I noticed something: two pairs of pants and one pair of shorts that I had with me all had zippers made by the same company, YKK zippers. My work computer is fucked right now and won't load any web pages properly, but I think the website is here. Anyhow, I read a brief paragraph on some other website which says that YKK is in fact, the world's largest zipper company. It's a Japanese company, it was founded in 1934 and that it posts US$2.9 billion in sales anually. The current CEO is the son of the founder and he's worth over $1 billion himself. This is crazy right? I have to admit, somehow I thought it would be even more money, but when I really think about it, that is still so much money -- just think about how many fucking zippers you have to sell to make $2.9 billion every year. I mean, this is wild speculation, but I'd be willing to bet that I could pick-up one zipper from a craft store or something for around 25 cents or less -- that would be the retail price of one individually packaged zipper mind you. Now you know that when Levi's orders their supply of zippers they're paying nothing per unit, maybe a couple of pennies at the most. It seems like one of the more boring businesses I suppose, since you're never really going to innovate the zipper ever again, well somebody might, but I don't suppose YKK is dumping tons of cash into R&D, and then of course, it's just a volume game. But think about it, you get those big contracts, like Levi's or some other pants specialist, or the GAP (editor's note: In addition to Levi's, YKK has the contracts for Nike and Adidas worldwide) or whatever it is, and that's it! All you gotta do is get those zippers made and ship 'em. And think how many zippers you can ship in a small amount of space. A shoebox could probably fit a thousand of them.

I just read this summary of the YKK story which is great and even has a little timeline at the end that gives you milestones in the history of the zipper (did you know the zipper was originally invented as an alternative to shoelaces? Insane right?) I probably should have read it first since it has key information like: YKK controls half of the entire world zipper market. And: Last year they actually posted $4.3 billion in sales as opposed to that figure I mentioned earlier. I've never been much of a researcher, but I sure do find the zipper business fascinating. Or should I say...fasten-ating?...wink!

Posted by King at 04:08 PM | Comments (7)