I've been really reluctant to do this, since reading about other people's roommate issues is tedious at best, and there's always the tiny chance my roomie or someone she knows might read this, but this one is just too damn funny not to blog about.
Plus, she's decided that one in the morning is a great time to begin learning how to play the fucking guitar, so fuck it.
Now, to really appreciate this story, you have to understand that neither one of us are particularly great at keeping up with the dishes. We've had a few spirited conversations on the matter, with the end result of each little chat being that both of us agree that we need to do dishes more often.
One of us makes an effort to actually do it. The other, not so much.
Case in point: for the last few days, she has left a dirty pot sitting on the stove. It was pretty ridiculously filthy too; she's cooked pasta in it, and dried spaghetti was draped over the edge like some Cthulhoid beastie trying to escape.
Our apartment is old, and has one of those long, thin, odd layouts you often see in old apartments above stores. In ours the kitchen is the first room you enter when you come into the apartment, and the stove is right by the door.
In other words, this disgustingly filthy pot is the first thing you see when you walk in, and it has sat there mocking me for three days.
During those three days I did dishes three times. I've inherited a decent set of dishes and bowls from friends who decided they were finally too good for Ikea and so, as a way to hopefully nudge my roomie towards maybe doing something about the Damnable Pot, I set to work washing the newish dishes and retiring all my old plates and such. That, plus some odds and ends (a different pot, glasses, silverware etc) accounted for three rack loads, done over the space of a couple of days.
No response from the roomie. As I left for work today I sighed quietly to myself, and wished the beastie good luck in its escape attempt.
When I got home, the pot had moved to a different burner, and the beastie was gone.
Oh, it was still dirty, mind you. But now instead of spaghetti remnants, it contained soup leftovers. My roomie, bless her incredibly slovenly and lazy heart, has washed the pot, re-used it, and left it back on the stove.
This was, needless to say, the only dish of any kind she had washed.
G20 Provocateur Caught On Camera?
Maybe so. There are actually two undercover cops who run by the camera at the marked interval who could have been in Black Bloc get-up.
I think it's pretty much a given that the authorities would have done everything possible to justify Harper's billion dollartar babysecurity measures, but it'd be nice to have proof.
I think it's pretty much a given that the authorities would have done everything possible to justify Harper's billion dollar
Great Days in Footie History
June 27, 2010
If video replay gets introduced into the game, it will be because of the two ridiculously blatant blown calls (on Lampard's goal, and on Tevez's offside non-goal) today.
EDIT: Mind you, it's looking like neither blown call will actually impact the game result...
If video replay gets introduced into the game, it will be because of the two ridiculously blatant blown calls (on Lampard's goal, and on Tevez's offside non-goal) today.
EDIT: Mind you, it's looking like neither blown call will actually impact the game result...
I've Finally Got Glenn Beck Figured Out
Glenn Beck is a clown. Everyone knows it, even his supporters; deep in their hearts they know his shtick his just that, an act, and that he's not a True Believer. Which is why his inevitable fall will be epic.
But the thing that's been stumping me is exactly what act Beck is doing. It seemed kind of familiar, yet I could never quite put my finger on it.
Couldn't put my finger on it, that it, until I was flipping channels and caught the middle of a movie I hadn't seen in a dog's age.
Glenn Beck is channeling JT Walsh's Big Bob character from Pleasantville. Same hair. Same basic look, although Larry King had dibs on the suspenders. Same reactionary desire to hide in the past and never let things change from what they were before Things Went Bad.
Don't believe me? Then let's play, "Who Said It?":
"It's a question of values. It's a question of whether we're gonna hold onto the values that have made this place great. So the time has come to make a decision. Are we in this alone, or are we in it together?"
Now, is that from Beck's infamous "We Surround Them" bit, or from Big Bob's bowling alley speech in Pleasantville?
But the thing that's been stumping me is exactly what act Beck is doing. It seemed kind of familiar, yet I could never quite put my finger on it.
Couldn't put my finger on it, that it, until I was flipping channels and caught the middle of a movie I hadn't seen in a dog's age.
Glenn Beck is channeling JT Walsh's Big Bob character from Pleasantville. Same hair. Same basic look, although Larry King had dibs on the suspenders. Same reactionary desire to hide in the past and never let things change from what they were before Things Went Bad.
Don't believe me? Then let's play, "Who Said It?":
"It's a question of values. It's a question of whether we're gonna hold onto the values that have made this place great. So the time has come to make a decision. Are we in this alone, or are we in it together?"
Now, is that from Beck's infamous "We Surround Them" bit, or from Big Bob's bowling alley speech in Pleasantville?
Last Night
Stephen Harper probably thinks he's died and gone to heaven. He's the only "winner" after last night's riots and general display of idiocy.
First, he gets to play host to all the foreign leaders he really, really wishes would be his BFFs. They just have to like him now!
Second, he gets to spend a billion dollars on a security tar baby so he can feel like a big tough guy.
Third, idiot anarchist wannabes are actually so stupid as to jump on the billion dollar security tar baby, thus 'justifying' Harper's stupid spending spree.
Fourth, all this happens in Toronto, which significantly reduces the political blowback on Harper since he wasn't going to get any votes in Toronto anyway, and most of his western base loves to get their schadenfreude on when bad things happen to the city.
For a typically gormless Canadian political hack, Harper is showing some signs of being a bit of an evil genius.
First, he gets to play host to all the foreign leaders he really, really wishes would be his BFFs. They just have to like him now!
Second, he gets to spend a billion dollars on a security tar baby so he can feel like a big tough guy.
Third, idiot anarchist wannabes are actually so stupid as to jump on the billion dollar security tar baby, thus 'justifying' Harper's stupid spending spree.
Fourth, all this happens in Toronto, which significantly reduces the political blowback on Harper since he wasn't going to get any votes in Toronto anyway, and most of his western base loves to get their schadenfreude on when bad things happen to the city.
For a typically gormless Canadian political hack, Harper is showing some signs of being a bit of an evil genius.
Oh, The Weigel Thing
Yeah, sucks to be him, I guess, what with being able to flee a dying media organization before its inevitable collapse, and get a Conan O'Brien-like lionization doing it.
Otherwise, Conor says about what I think on the matter (if in about 8000 more words than I'd use): it's impossible to take seriously the ethical standards of a newspaper that regularly employs Marc Theissen.
Frankly, I find it difficult to take seriously the ethical standards of anyone who would work as a journalist for a newspaper that regularly employs Marc Theissen. If Ezra Klein is half as smart as everyone thinks he is, he'll be following Weigel out the door.
Otherwise, Conor says about what I think on the matter (if in about 8000 more words than I'd use): it's impossible to take seriously the ethical standards of a newspaper that regularly employs Marc Theissen.
Frankly, I find it difficult to take seriously the ethical standards of anyone who would work as a journalist for a newspaper that regularly employs Marc Theissen. If Ezra Klein is half as smart as everyone thinks he is, he'll be following Weigel out the door.
The TTC's Ongoing Anti-PR Campaign, Episode 9478
As I headed to the subway to go to work today, I discovered that the Danforth part of the Bloor-Danforth line was shut down between Woodbine and Broadview, a stretch which naturally included my station (Pape).
Broadview is only a couple of stops away, so I considered simply walking over there and catching the train from that point. I also considered taking the Pape bus south, since it (eventually) hooks around the downtown core, and even with the G20 route changes it still wouldn't be a long walk from the closest stop.
Either way, though, I'd need to pay a fare and was out of tokens, so I went over to the booth to buy some. The collector wasn't there.
I saw a guy standing outside the station in the light blue short sleeve shirt most TTC employees wear in warmer weather. I walked over to him and, sure enough, he has a TTC logo on his shirt pocket. I asked him if I could buy some tokens.
He looked at me with what I guess was annoyance. "Collector's not here."
Oh. Huh. I guess I'm walking to Broadview. I leave the station and get down to the Danforth. Shuttle buses are already piled three deep at the corner, taking people between Woodbine and Broadview Stations.
Based on past experience, that was a good thing. Usually by the time it takes the TTC to get the shuttle buses organized and on the road, whatever was causing the delay was cleared, so I turned around and headed back to the station. Mr. Short Sleeves was still hanging around out front, but inside someone more important (you could tell because he had one of those nifty red TTC hats, a clipboard and a radio) was dealing with people wanting to know what was going on. I walked up to him.
"Subway's closed", he said.
"I know it is, I just want to buy some tokens so I can get on the shuttle bus."
"Oh." He looks over at the empty booth. An older women is right behind me with the same complaint. "I NEED TICKETS!", she screeched. In my ear.
Mr. In Charge walked outside and talked to Mr. Short Sleeves, who then grumpily came inside and opened up the booth, which led me to one of two conclusions:
1) Mr. Short Sleeves had lied to my face when he said the collector wasn't there, since he was the collector; or,
2) The real collector had buggered off when the delay hit, and poor Mr. Short Sleeves had been shanghai'ed into covering for that person.
I'm leaning towards #1.
On the bright side, as soon as I bought my tokens the subway was re-opened.
Moral of the story: anybody who gets on a shuttle bus during a TTC subway delay is a sucker.
Broadview is only a couple of stops away, so I considered simply walking over there and catching the train from that point. I also considered taking the Pape bus south, since it (eventually) hooks around the downtown core, and even with the G20 route changes it still wouldn't be a long walk from the closest stop.
Either way, though, I'd need to pay a fare and was out of tokens, so I went over to the booth to buy some. The collector wasn't there.
I saw a guy standing outside the station in the light blue short sleeve shirt most TTC employees wear in warmer weather. I walked over to him and, sure enough, he has a TTC logo on his shirt pocket. I asked him if I could buy some tokens.
He looked at me with what I guess was annoyance. "Collector's not here."
Oh. Huh. I guess I'm walking to Broadview. I leave the station and get down to the Danforth. Shuttle buses are already piled three deep at the corner, taking people between Woodbine and Broadview Stations.
Based on past experience, that was a good thing. Usually by the time it takes the TTC to get the shuttle buses organized and on the road, whatever was causing the delay was cleared, so I turned around and headed back to the station. Mr. Short Sleeves was still hanging around out front, but inside someone more important (you could tell because he had one of those nifty red TTC hats, a clipboard and a radio) was dealing with people wanting to know what was going on. I walked up to him.
"Subway's closed", he said.
"I know it is, I just want to buy some tokens so I can get on the shuttle bus."
"Oh." He looks over at the empty booth. An older women is right behind me with the same complaint. "I NEED TICKETS!", she screeched. In my ear.
Mr. In Charge walked outside and talked to Mr. Short Sleeves, who then grumpily came inside and opened up the booth, which led me to one of two conclusions:
1) Mr. Short Sleeves had lied to my face when he said the collector wasn't there, since he was the collector; or,
2) The real collector had buggered off when the delay hit, and poor Mr. Short Sleeves had been shanghai'ed into covering for that person.
I'm leaning towards #1.
On the bright side, as soon as I bought my tokens the subway was re-opened.
Moral of the story: anybody who gets on a shuttle bus during a TTC subway delay is a sucker.
Random Things I've Been Writing at Three In the Morning
This may become a regular thing, depending on how often I scribble stuff down at three in the morning.
He remembered the weight of a finger lightly pinning his lips to his front teeth.
He remembered a crooked smile peeking out from behind the dark locks tumbling over her face.
He remembered smooth skin and a hip bone beneath his palm, while his other hand dangled in the cool air off the edge of the bed.
He remembered a breath rushing into his lungs like a prodigal returning home.
Be still, she said, but his heart refused to listen.
He remembered the weight of a finger lightly pinning his lips to his front teeth.
He remembered a crooked smile peeking out from behind the dark locks tumbling over her face.
He remembered smooth skin and a hip bone beneath his palm, while his other hand dangled in the cool air off the edge of the bed.
He remembered a breath rushing into his lungs like a prodigal returning home.
Be still, she said, but his heart refused to listen.
Holy Crap
Did we just have a tremor? The whole building swayed enough to get a floor lamp rocking.
That was awesome.
EDIT: 5.5, baby! I'm sure my Angelino friends would laugh themselves silly at the thought that a 5.5 would even be worth notice.
That was awesome.
EDIT: 5.5, baby! I'm sure my Angelino friends would laugh themselves silly at the thought that a 5.5 would even be worth notice.
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