A happy post in which I call someone a cunt. 3:22 AM

Well yes, it's been months. Whatever.

I'm sure most of you are aware of the media's latest big thing - Susan Boyle, a 47 year old unemployed woman from a small village in Britain, blew everyone's freaking minds the other day on Britain's Got Talent. It's like American Idol, only much less of a gong show.

Susan's intro on the show was a rather unflattering recording of her eating a sandwich in the waiting area, by herself, accompanied by some kind of jugband fairytale sort of music. She was immediately written off as a joke, presumably to be this year's emabrassing youtube performance. Of course every viewer at this point was giggling to themselves, "well, this should be good."

People, you have no idea.



Susan steps onto the stage, and announces she will be singing "I Dream a Dream" from Les Miserables. A noteably difficult song, for anyone. The track is started, and the audience waits.

And, well...watch for yourself.

I have watched this video 6 times now, and have yet to be free of chills and a slight tear up. Absolutely phenomenal. Incredible. Holy effing WOW.

A follow-up article by the Daily Mirror has Susan's story, and it's a sad one to say the least. At least there's a happy ending, with Simon Cowell all over the goddamn everything to have her sing for his label. She'll be a professional singer, just like she has always wanted. It's precious, and wonderful, and beyond well deserved. I wish her the best.

However, one thing really got to me that I have yet to...get over. It's a small, yet horribly glaring moment, at 1:23 in the video.


This girl.
This girl right here.

The one with the beak on her face making the eye roll and grimace like a huge c u n t.

Girl, I wanna punch you in your droopy-ass face. Hipster haircut, too much eyeliner, self-important attitude...yup. CUNT. Just a small example of the kind of stupid judgemental crap that I know most of the audience was displaying when they saw Susan take the stage. The kind of crowd that thinks talent only comes hand-in-hand with modelesque beauty. I hope each and every one of those assholes sat in their chairs and wanted to vomit due to their own embarassment. But her especially. Good on ya, editor dude.

The female judge said it best - they were all laughing, and now they're chowing down on their feet. That'll learn ya. It's a huge wake up call for alot of people, but sadly, the world is still full of people like the pleasant assholes featured in the video clip.

I'm happy as all hell the editor decided to put her into the final video. I hope she sees it. I hope everyone she knows sees it too, so they can see what a judgmental cunt she is. And I hope she feels like a giant asshole for judging this woman, and everyone else she's done that smart ass eye-roll at. Because it's obvious she's a pro at it. She reminds me of the girls who scoff and laugh at a nerdy kid if he musters up the courage to ask one of them on a date.

Teenage Hipster Schadenfreude. aka GIRL YOU ARE A CUNT. And I hate you and everyone like you. Please congregate all those like you into a shipping crate and seal off any holes so as to suffocate yourselves while you all give eachother dirty looks but never have the guts to say anything to eachother's faces.

Was that too harsh? I don't know - if I was caught on national television making that face I'd buck up and prepare for the terrordome.

*edit* I linked to this on my facebook just now, and it actually asked me for a CAPTCHA before I could post it. Ridiculous.

"Wolverine" Get Reshoots; We Get A Sexy Picture. 3:47 AM

Harry from aintitcool recieved an e-mail from Hugh Jackman himself recently stating that the upcoming Marvel release is doing a few reshoots.

Hey Mate- Would you mind posting this? Thank you for your support! HJ

Hey everyone -

It's Hugh Jackman, sending this note from freezing Vancouver. I have read a lot of your online comments regarding the footage that we are currently shooting and I share your passion for the Wolverine character and the movie - I owe it all to you guys!

I wanted to reach out and let you know that due to scheduling conflicts with certain cast members and location/weather considerations, we had to wait until now to shoot a couple of scenes. Please rest assured that WOLVERINE will be badass and hopefully meet all of your expectations. I am stoked by the positive response to the teaser, which clearly reflects the tone and scope of the film. If you like that, we've got much more in store!

In the meantime, here's an exclusive shot of some characters you may recognize...

Cheers,

Hugh

Said photo is here:



*Sigh* May can't come soon enough.

If yesterday (today?) was a person, I'd bitchslap it. 9:08 AM

Well, it's once again 9am and I've yet to be even remotely tired. I really hate falling into this habit. It makes getting out of bed the most arduous task on the planet, my eating schedule ends up being just as out of whack, and my life seems to revolve around waking up at some obscene time after dinner, showering, going to work, coming home at 3, and sitting on here for...hmm, going on six hours.

Sigh.

Speaking of work...I was late tonight, no thanks to the Dundas St. Westbound streetcar taking over half a goddamn hour. I'm not even kidding. I got to St. Patrick station just after 9:30, went up to the streetcar stop, and looked east like I usually do to see if I've just missed the streetcar. Nothing there all the way to Yonge. So I figure it's been at least 5 minutes. This particular streetcar is scheduled to come every 12 minutes or so. It's -10 with a windchill from hell, but I can wait a bit.

I see the westbound streetcar go by. Yay, that means mine is coming soon!
...then I see another one.
I'm getting rather cold.
...then I see a third.
I can't feel my feet.
I'm hopping up and down inside the shelter trying to revive my frozen self, when the streetcar finally pulls up.
I sit down, and check the time on my phone.
10:04.
...
Fuck. This.
Thankfully my boss understood my predicament and didn't penalize my lateness.
I still made no money and almost cried on the way home.
I won't get into my money issues on the internet.
But I will say I'm working towards this month being the end of them.

I also dropped my month-old camera in the toilet at the Bovine on Halloween.
There's a waste of $250.

Observe the wonderful resulting photo quality along with my tired, frustrated face.

What the hell day is it even right now? I'm going to try to sleep. This is all kinds of fail.
I also don't have any toothpaste or body wash right now. Yay dirtbag! Ugh.

The winter, it is here. 9:59 AM

So it's been snowing like an asshole outside, and honestly, I haven't left the house in 7 days. Really. I've sat here and watched MST3K, ate some pad thai (thanks, C, I still owe you for that one) and generally just cowered in disgust every time I peek out the window to see if it's gotten any better outside.

I've also been into this lovely sleeping pattern where I'll pass out around 4am, wake up at 8, stare at the ceiling for an hour or so and end up doing something productive on here. Did I tell you C bought me an entire new PC? Well, she did, and I didn't deserve it. I love her to bits. She's moving away, no thanks to the horror known as "Upstairs Jeff", and now my BFF will no longer literally be a 15 second walk from my door.

Take a moment of silence for my pouting please.

My blogTO account has been "temporarily disabled" because the asst. editor hasn't met me in person yet. I'm going a tad stir crazy not being able to post. The funny thing is, since he's disabled my account, there's been maybe 3 or 4 posts on the entire site that aren't automatically put up ahead of time (Morning Brew daily, and Flickr Xmas countdown this month).

Sigh. Such is life, I suppose. I was supposed to meet with him yesterday, and well...you know. Snowpocalypse and such.

This is a photo I took almost 2 years ago around this time, of my door:

...

:(

'Tis the season for misery! And stereotypes are funny. 3:10 AM

So, it happened. I knew it would come sooner or later, but it happened.

I went outside last night, ready to go have another fun evening at Rock N Roll Pornography, and stopped the second I set one foot outside my door.

It. Was. Bloody. Freezing. Oh. My. God.

I actually muttered "Oh, fuck this.", and dragged my saddened feet back inside to get my coat. The winter was beginning, and I am none too pleased about any of it. I don't care what anyone has to say on the subject, either.

"It's so pretty!"
"You can do fun things like skiing!"
"Christmas!"

SHUT YOUR BLASPHEMOUS MOUTH. If I go outside at any given time of day, and feel my snot freezing inside my sinuses the first time I inhale the air, there is nothing, I reapeat, NOTHING good about it. Christmas? I had Christmas in Florida when I was 12 and it was wonderful. I wore shorts. We went to the beach. I played with my Aunt's nine cats and wasted as much footage on my parent's new Sony Handycam as I could possibly manage without being yelled at and having my groundbreaking moments in cinematography promptly recorded over with my mom opening a gift containing some item of clothing with reindeer on it. Reindeer are obselete in Florida, you see. They can still fly around and jingle and pull the sleigh, but no one really gives a shit because any reference to snow and the North Pole in Florida is more often than not met with either a blank stare or "Are there igloos in Toronto?" Not even kidding. Bless their hearts, but I'm not even kidding.

I'm angry about being cold and I don't want to write anymore. I got a sort of gig writing for blogTO, and that's fun. Maybe one day I can get paid to do this. Hurr.

Next up on Decapitation Week... 12:22 AM

Continuing on with the pleasant theme of forced head removal, the news has graced us with yet another decapitation story. This time, however, it wasn't a random attack.

The dismembered body of a 20-year-old English girl was found in Brazil after her boyfriend killed her and filmed the entire incident with his cell phone. Britain was shocked to learn of the brutal killing of Cara Marie Burke (17), by her own boyfriend Mohammed Santos (20).

Having met Mohammed in London, Cara followed him to Brazil after his visa expired and he was forced to leave the UK. The 20-year-old man reportedly killed the girl in his apartment. On his mobile phone, investigators discovered footage of Mohammed stabbing Cara and then decapitating her.

A policeman told Brazilian television: "The telephone was full of photos and videos. He grinned as he chopped off her limbs. The photos also include ones like those of the Taliban, in which the decapitated head is replaced atop the body..."

Further investigation reveals that Mohammed was high on the drugs, and claims that cutting his girlfriend up could be related to simply slicing beef, only "bloodier". How swoon-worthy.

What in the hell is wrong with people lately? There's a few hundred pages of speculation as to why he did it, ranging from his girlfriend's denial of marriage so he could obtain a Visa, to protecting himself from being turned in for drugs. He even turned up the music in his apartment to prevent anyone from hearing her scream.

Then he filmed it. On his phone. If that ain't love, baby...

In light of these recent events, I am now afraid* of the following:
1. Winnipeg
2. Greyhound busses
3. Knives
4. Cell phones
5. Men

*Not really. I just think these people need to watch a little less Dexter. However, if you're aren't insane, watch as much Dexter as you want. It's a great show.

I think next time I have a boyfriend, I'm going to ask him politely if he's ever had an urge to, "Well...you know, babe, get all jacked up on blow, chop me up into little bitty pieces, cut off my head, and then toss me into a suitcase and throw me (unsuccessfully) into a river? Babe? ...Sweetie, where are you going...?"

*door slam*

...

*fail*

You don't make friends with salad. 9:50 PM

At least, not if that salad ever had anything to do with the lettuce-loving PETA. I was nothing short of disgusted at discovering that following the brutal attack on a man riding a Greyhound bus in Winnipeg, everyone's favourite anti-everything activists had the nerve to attempt to release a newspaper ad (in Manitoba, no less) comparing the poor victim to slaughterhouse animals.

The editor declined the ad, saying only that it wasn't something they would want to do, but did note that since it's appearance on the PETA website, the newspaper has been flooded with phone calls and messages.

“Like human victims, animals in slaughterhouses experience terror when they are attacked by a knife-wielding assailant,” Lindsay Rajt of PETA said in a news release. “We are challenging everyone who is rightly horrified by this crime to look into their hearts and consider leaving violence off their dinner plates.”

Rajt said the ad was intended to be shocking and is meant to spur people to think about the terror and pain experienced by animals who are raised and killed for food.

You'd think that a group so large would at least be able to respect the fact that they might make errors or go one step too far, right? Apparently not, because their response to the mass amounts of hate-mail they've been recieving over the ad is, well...less than professional.

Yes, of course we were horrified (who wouldn't be?) when we heard the details of this barbaric, incomprehensible killing. And obviously, everyone's good thoughts go out to anyone affected by this violent act. That's all a no-brainer. Now, remember, PETA is known for being provocative - that's our job. The animals don't benefit from our silence. So our thought is always: How can we get people to see that despite their feelings about this kind of violence, they are often paying someone to do exactly what was done to the man on the bus, and worse, just so that they can eat a sandwich? Voila, the ad!

Basically, they're saying, "If you're offended by our ad, there's obviously something wrong with you because they do this to farm animals all the time! Don't you see, it's the same! Oh, yes, we're sorry about the brutal murder. Order our vegetarian starter kit now!"

I often wonder how far PETA will go to get their "message" across. I do not condone animal testing, hunting for sport, or wearing fur for fashion. But I'm not about to run up north and throw blood all over an Inuit tribe whose lives are centred around using animals for food, shelter, medicine, clothing...anything you can think of. There's a limit. PETA doesn't seem to understand the concept of "enough", and they only seem to be getting worse.

I grew up on a farm, where we raised chickens, goats and rabbits, all as pets. The chickens would lay the best tasting eggs, and every spring we'd have new baby animals running around. Once a year we would by a hundred or so chicks that we would raise strictly for meat. PETA will tell you that my family were monsters. What they won't tell you, is that my farm, along with countless others in Canada and the US, treat their meat animals no different than they would a family pet, providing the best food, water, and comfort possible for the duration of their lives. My neighbours even feed their cattle day old doughnuts from the coffee shop - they go nuts over them. Point being, far too many people believe whatever information they are fed, and feel that is enough. They need to do more research on their own, and understand that life isn't as black and white as PETA may think. I genuinely feel sorry for anyone involved in the creation of that horrendous ad. It's beyond disrespectful, disgusting, and tasteless.

Now, they did apologize for the whole "Holocaust on your Plate" ordeal, but regardless, this is just ridiculous. Some things are better left unsaid, unwritten, un-thrown in your face...you get the idea.

Am I a bad person for eating Swiss Chalet just before I wrote this?

It's always awkward the first time. 5:17 AM

I spent a good hour on The Wayback Machine, and decided to hit up my old website. Not my old portfolio, but my old "personal page" from high school. There it was, in all it's pink, angst-riddled, teenage whining glory. I was rather impressed that I managed to avoid talking like a cell phone, which unfortunately is something alot of teens have been struggling with for the past year or so. A friend of mine teaches 3rd grade in Hamilton, and he and I got into a discussion about lauguage and teaching. I was suprised to hear that not only was he (much to the chagrin of the Catholic School Board, eep! My friends are rebels, y'all.) giving the children a bit of a heads up regarding the fact that once they get older, they'll be actually writing less and less and thus it's not that important to learn cursive writing, but he recently taught them to use Powerpoint.
Powerpoint.
I don't even know how to use Powerpoint.
Neither did half the staff, because they seemed genuinely shocked when he presented the kids' final projects. They didn't do half bad.
Now, when I was in 3rd grade, we didn't have Powerpoint, let alone anything resembling a computer. We made lifesize paper models of the various workings of the human body out of construction paper, glue, and fearless motivation. My group had the circulatory system. We spent days making the little veins and arteries, cutting out what seemed like hundreds of long, thin pieces of blue and red paper respectively.
I was so proud of that thing. We had to pick a number between 1 and 10 to see who would get to take it home.
I didn't win.
I went home and cried to my mom, because I thought I worked the hardest on it, and my veins and ateries were the best ones. The other girl cheated. Someone must have told her the number when they overheard the teacher. I was sure of it.
It would have been a killer blog.