Last night we got together a spur of the moment poker game. Twice I tried to bring home the bacon and twice I failed. Though the second time I came in second. A head to header with Graham. I just couldn’t beat that dirty s.o.b.
So, two poker games down, a 24pack of beer, one pizza, and a couple joints later, the remaining three of us (myself, kurt, and mike) decided to fully dork out and take in a game of Settlers of Catan.

Settlers of Catan is to my trip to Toronto what Hero Clicks was to the Edmonton leg and Lawn Bowling to my Winnipeg leg. It’s the dork out game of choice in the city I am in. Some people were surprised when I told them that I played and really enjoyed late night Baci ball games in Winnipeg. Then came the Hero Clicks. A Role Playing Game we couldn’t get enough of in Marc’s basement. With his hundreds and hundreds of little action figures to choose from. In Settlers of Catan you try to be the dominant force on the island of Catan by building settlements, cities, and roads. You collect cards that represent raw materials to build up civilizations and get enough victory points to win the game.

So that’s how these three studs rounded out their night.



And it was first-timer Kurt that took home the most victory points and won the game.

Last night I watched two of the greatest things
Fear Factor. You forget what a douchbag Joe Rogan is after a while. But a 3 in the morning visit to Fear Factor quickly reminded me. Aside from listening to his meathead opinion about how surprising it was that 2 women wound up in the finals, Fear Factor is the only show where phrases like “…Cause i finished the rectum and she didnt…”, “For being the only one to finish 13″ of the horse rectum…”, “You stalled a little bit at the horse rectum…”

Then to round out the night (which began at a revival screening of Raiders Of The Lost Ark – which was a lot more montage-y than i remember it being) I watched the Bill Clinton Explosion on Fox News. (The Bill Clinton Explosion owned, operated, and trademarked, The News, LLC)
Watch it here

Thursday afternoon I got to see The Big Lebowski on the big screen at the theatre up the street. Holy Crap. It’s not that I haven’t seen the movie a million times over. I just forgot how awesome it was. Seeing it like that was almost like seeing it again for the first time, except that I had the knowledge of what was about to happen. John Goodman has some takes in that movie that are unbelievalble. And Jeff Bridges. Holy Fuck. Not since Nicolas Cage in Raising Arizona has a protagonist been so brilliantly realized. Now if only the brothers Coen could stop making shite for a minute and start making good movies again.
Last night was the highly anticipated, 3 years coming experience of seeing Shout Out Out Out Out.

They were opening for a band called Holy F*ck. But that didn’t matter. I was there for one reason. And they lived up to it. It was a fucking Dance Party. One of the best shows I have ever seen. The lead singer looks like a cross between David Cross and the guy in Dazed and Confused that saya, “Oh an observation huh? Well who the hell are you man? Isaac fucking Newton? Well guess what genius I’m the one smoking marijuana motherfucker. You got a problem with that? … Well why don’t you observe while I punch your fucking teeth down your throat?”
Highlights from the show :
For the first time in the history of me going to shows, I clapped along and even chanted. And I didn’t do that shit at Springsteen.
Watching the chubby, big-boobied girl get groped on by a complete stranger. A phenomenon I thought only existed in meatmarket bars in the “meathead/soroitygirl” part of towns. I’m convinced she kept passing out during it all and would come to to this guy groping all over her, then get back into it until passing out again.
After the show I headed to a party where indeed there was a Rottweiller of the sweetest disposition named Donna Joe. For those of you in the know, imagine Dotty. Now imagine the exact opposite. I’ve never seen anything this docile. AND it was a rottweiler. She was so chill. And I mean that word in the most un-Dave Matthews Cover Band kind of way.
Tonight I was hanging out with some folks drinking beer and playing this rad board game Settlers. Yeh I know, how very nerdy of me. I’m almost turning into…
I don’t know if it was the strange mugginess of the day, the Doritos I ate, or maybe some bad gas station cappucino but out of nowhere I turned flush white. My hands were shaking. I could barely roll the j I was commissioned to roll. Nevermind sticking around for it. It was all way to reminiscent of Winnipeg last fall where I became more ill than I have evr been before. So, fearing the worse – that any at moment I would hurl – I decided to head out and come home.
I finished up the Man of La Mancha DVD. C’mon Terry Gilliam WILL YOU PLEASE CUT THAT FUCKING RAT TAIL OFF ALREADY. and breezed through some Arrested Development. I don’t know why, but it seemed to work. I seem to be in somewhat tip top shape again. Ready for tomorrow’s surprises. Including a probable screening of Raiders Of The Lost Ark at the cinema.

Tonight I will finally get to see Edmonton’s Shout Out Out Out Out play. Unfortunately I will be missing .controller.controller and You Say Party We Say Die at the same time. They also played last night, but I found out today. Thanks a bunch mailing list I signed up for. Way to send out updates a day late.

My tummy is still reeling from the 2am falafel the other night.

Just booked my car rental for a weekend getaway in Rochester next week. I’ll be leading a workshop or two with the cats there that the fine folks at Dad’s Garage Theatre taught how to do improv. Let’s see if i can’t break them.

As hard as I tried, a jump to Boston just ain’t happening while in Rochester. It’s a wicked long drive, and flying would mean having to bring my “month long” sized suitcase because I can’t travel with liquids anymore. So contact solution, toothpaste, deodorant(?) and whatever else is on that list would have to be stowed in a giant size suitcase. 4 years ago, CarrotTop suggested getting a little itty bitty bag and checking it. Maybe he wasn’t a hack, but a visionary. A seer into the future. Curses. It’s tough being this close to people you love and not get to see them. Hell, I’ll bet it won’t even be slushing this time.

I also forgot my nail clippers so I will have to start raiding cabinets as my fingers are clickity clacking on the keyboard and getting snagged on everything they come in contact with.

Among other things i forget ( see below ) it seems I also forgot a sweater. And it’s starting to get chilly here in toronto. out of nowhere even. So, since I am staying right around the corner from Honest Ed’s I figured I’d go in and pick up a sweater. Now, for those of you that don’t know what Honest Ed’s is, close your eyes and imagine an IKEA. Now imagine that IKEA full of crap and utterly disorganized. Now imagine all these pictures and articles posted everywhere of a guy named Ed that you assume meant something to the community because there’s no other reason you would just put up all this crap to honor the owner.
That’s Honest Ed’s.

I tried sifting through the miles and miles of piles and piles for a sweater but came up empty handed. Well, not so empty. I now have a pair of gloves and 2 more tuchs (bringing my tuch total to 4 if you are keeping track on your tuchometer).
I might go brave it again some other time.

I forgot to eat again.
Luckily there was a falafel place open near the pad.
Luckier…they had Canada Dry.

And yes, I poured some out on the sidewalk for my homie Lee.

TACO ISLAND

(phot courtesy of an IM with lady d)

Well, it appears no matter how much of a neurotic frenzy I work myself into. No matter how many times I check, recheck, and double chefck. It appears when I pack for month long trips out of the country, I am destined to forget something. First time around, I forgot my phone charger. This time, my camera battery charger. And the battery is just about done. So it looks like I will be utterly pictureless on this trip.

on the bright side, I did eat the all time best veggie burger in the world for lunch today.
I will retrieve the secret somehow. We have ways of making you talk.

I was woken up last night from a dead sleep by a loud noise. At first I was a little disoriented, but after it happened again, and again, and again I realized it was a door repeatedly slamming. Usually I would be thinking something logical, like someone is opening and closing a door. loudly. a lot. at 5 in the morning. That’s logical right. I mean, we all do that, no? But my crazy side (the one with the frosted coating) took hold and thought back to a warning I got my first night here. “You know the house is haunted, right?” So I spent a good while convincing myself that there are no such things as ghosts. And that it was the logical repeated slamming of a door at 5 in the morning for no good reason. I was ready to fall back asleep. Until music started playing. loudly.

Back to AquaTeen. The Universal Remonster went through the Fargate. Gotta see how this ends up.

I’ve been trying to read the John Hodgman book The Areas Of My Expertise for the past 4 days now. I keep reading a paragraph of it and keep working myself up over the fact that it’s phony. That there isn’t anything sincere about it. It’s just pages and pages of procrastinated filler. Am I really to read a book just because the guy can make up some stuff? Do I really care that he came up with 700 hobo names by himself?