Friday, May 21, 2004

I'm in the wrong town

All it took for the city of Calgary to turn into a writhing pool of smut was a trip to the Cup Finals.

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Look out Mama, there's a white Vespa comin' down the Dempster...

Dick thinks he's a hardcore unshaven man-of-the-woods for taking the Dempster Highway in a nine-deuce pickup truck. Imagine taking the thing in a moped? Departing at 0800 from Tarranna? This guy did it! He's also got some killer shots of the Southwestern US of A. I'd live in one of these cliff ruins and make daily bread from the grist of the Century Plant. Not to mention sampling the local cactii, although as it turns out, they are perfectly legal here.

Friday, May 14, 2004

How does this look?

Whaddya think Dick? And hey, you can make comments now too. I feel like a Real Live Blogger now. Now all I need to do is blather on incessantly about how great RSS, Atom, and Web Standards are.

So our favourite architect at the Velvy, Mr. F.O.G., took a break from being a Christ figure in the AGO Gift Shop to build a World Cup of Hockey trophy. Behold...the elephant maaaaan! Go on Canada, win us that spice rack!

Thursday, May 13, 2004

I wanna Ralph (sorry)

Everyone's favourite souse, Alberta Premier Ralph Klein, has managed to land himself in the muck once again. This time...wait for it...for cribbing over half of his essay from the Web! Dog my cats!

Monday, May 10, 2004

Planning proliferation - The Life and Death of Elmhurst.

The City of Detroit fascinates me incessantly as posts of late suggest. From an anthropologists point of view, this latest find is especially important. Witness the downfall of a great city through the eyes of the residents of Elmhurst Street. As the euphoria and changing demographics of the 1950s usher in the depths of depression of the new millennium, civic leaders and urban planners struggle to find ways to rebuild dying, depopulated neighbourhoods. After enduring race riots and countless Devil's Nights, I am intrigued by their stories.

I have scheduled my site visit to Elmhurst Street for this Saturday, May 15th.

Usurper indeed.

Oh ye of little faith. The Queen - our Queen - deserves better than a quick slight of hand from the likes of one Nicky Pants! Your crass transformation from avid proponent of the constitutional monarchist model to this smarmy, unctuous republican-minded bumbary has taken me aback in such a manner as to suggest that I've suffered such an indignation that only the house physician Dr. Tim can solve.

It saddens me to think that such deep loyalist roots can be pulled up with mere a passing of thought. After years of avid service are you truly willing to turn your back on our soverign? Are you willing to give up the solace in knowing that our democratic system under her protection is shielded from the corruption and union-busting that proliferates the lesser Republican model?

Whatever your intent, I suggest you indulge her once more... not just for my sake, or yours... but for the Commonwealth as a whole. Such brash attitudes could set off a chain of events that could alter the political alliances of the entire globe. Think, first 74 Constance and then who... Jamaica? The Turks and Caicos? Choose wisely.

God save the Queen and Solidarity Forever in her name,

Dick.

Friday, May 07, 2004

Irrigate that sucker

If Steve-o is serious about health, he'd be wise to put down the Weil and the good Rev. Graci and live by the Arise & Shine internal cleanse or a full-on Thai cleansing retreat, lest he end up with a little buddy [read that last link all the way through; you will never be the same].

Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Jenny's Back

Jane Jacobs has a new book out. It is being ordered as I type this. OK not EXACTLY as I type but shut up.

Monday, May 03, 2004

NO QUEEN - Two Weeks

That's right. Giving up the Monarchy for two weeks. I will next kneel before the diamond-encrusted shoe of Her Majesty on Saturday May the 15th. In the meantime I shall become the most ardent lobbyist against the Royal Family's iron-fisted reign, challenging Dick to band with his fellow Whigs and refute these gleaming gems of logos, pathos, and ethos! Not to mention bathos and his evil cousin, the great bane of my third-year academic existence, Nachos.

Conversations around here go like this for the next two weeks:
Nicky: Boy, breakfasts at Gate 403 sure are great.
Dick: I'd expect a comment like that from an imperialist pigdog. Why don't you just eat that garnish cantaloupe and think about the blood you just spilled! No blood for melon!
N: Put your head down and eat your eggs, which by the way came from non-inbred, underpriveleged, scandal-eschewing hens who live outside of the realm of the public eye! A colonial egg is a rotten egg!
D: I'm sure you'd rather have eggs plopped out under the watchful eye of Mao-Zedong and his merry band of underage trollops!
N: Death to all Whigs! Hand over the Crown Estate to the rich, where it belongs!
D: I love FDR!

Two weeks.

T&A and T.S. Eliot

The Maxim magnate Felix Dennis is your prototypical eccentric rich guy, and now he's quite the quillsman.
In a picaresque career, Mr. Dennis has played drums for Eric Clapton, gone to jail for publishing Oz, a crudely satirical magazine, and written a biography of Bruce Lee. In his newest chapter, the British multimillionaire is on a crusade to challenge the obscurity of modern poetry, by reclaiming old-fashioned values of rhyme and meter.

Is there a way of structuring "8 Ways to Get Her Panties Off Her Body and Around Your Head" or "10 Rules Every Guy Must Know" to a delightful iambic pentameter? The former editor of Maxim would probably scoff.

Sunday, May 02, 2004

I don't give a care

What're ya gonna do with a Drunken Sailor?
What're ya gonna do with a Drunken Sailor?
What're ya gonna do with a Drunk-en Sail-or?
Early in the Morning?

      – from NHL 94, EA Sports, and photo from here.

I came to a decision tonight. BIC Atlantis: BEST PEN IN FUCKING EVER. It's like holding a stick of butter while you write.

Our household would benefit greatly from having a hard-copy of this catalogue peeking over the edge of our coffee table. How else would we come to learn about haggling, meat "growing", Tax Avoision [sic], hiding things, and that great pinata thwacked by the conversations of our living room, Frontier Living.

The Arts.

A cross-section of the 'guitar lesson' is a specimen both wide and varied in scope. It ranges from the kids you remember in high school to us older folk who never bothered learning in those fast-paced days - only to later regret it.

Seriously. James Scott Perkins III???

While unrelated, I found this quite amusing.

We're going where you're going, leave your troubles behind!!!

Single handedly making transit hip again, this 'soul train' delivers the goods. Quite possibly the best transit theme song ever. C'mon, crank up those speakers and 'get in motion'!

While the Peoplemover in Detroit may be suave, the University of West Virginia's monorail system begs the question... would you travel around campus in a pop can?