Today has been a relatively peaceful day so far. There haven't been any fires that have required my attention, and all in all things seem to be all systems go. I'm feeling relaxed. My head is clear of impediment, and I am content. It's a rare moment for me and I am trying not to squander it. Moments of true clarity are scarce and must be cherished. (Unless they happen to someone you don't like… then cruel mockery is the best and only recourse. There's nothing like a good old fashioned chiding to reset someone's emotional compass…)
This morning I had an unusual burst of energy. I got out of bed without the normal nagging insistence of my alarm clock. That hasn't happened for a long time. Usually I slam down on the snooze bar three or four times before my brain will be coaxed into a semi functioning state. It normally takes a longer for motor skills to adjust. I have divested myself of Zombie Marcus today. (Well at least for today…)
The walk to work was breezy with a little nip in the air. I turned the ipod on and happily trundled off, heading first to Bad Ass to get some coffee, and then re-adjusted my route and headed to work. This morning's musical choice was The Clash's London Calling. (Being possibly the greatest record of all time…) It puts the spring in my step easily.
Last night I went to the Ship and Anchor pub. I love it there. It's the best cross section of people this city has to offer, conveniently rolled into a nice and neat little pub. Whether you're a ninja, a mail carrier, a coke mule, a deposed chairman of a former soviet republic, a wannabe rock star or a surgeon, chances are you've gone to the ship more than once. It's a great place to people watch. Which as of late has become my new favourite sport.
I love watching the nonsensical little roads that people wander down after alcohol has been ingested. It amuses me, because I'm the one who paved those roads.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Modest Mouse - Good News for People Who Love Bad News
Modest Mouse
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
I love Modest Mouse. I finally broke down and bought this record. It's slicker than anything they have ever done before, but the songs are great.
Fall Out Boy - My Heart Will Always be the B-side to My Tongue
Fall Out Boy
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
Some new music that I've added to the collection. Fall Out Boy is a nice surprise. Not the greatest record in the world, but quite hookey and fun...
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Something that Just Pisses me off...
I just went to read my friend Brett's blog, and it had been bombarded with spam posts... (thebrettmartin.blogspot.com)
Why is it that whenever someone comes up with something fun and innovative like email, or blogging, there is always some evil shithead that insists on smearing their advertising feces all over it. Can't something every once in a while be left alone? Does business really need to tip it's ugly hand here? Can't the general public have the odd thing left untainted? It never ends...
Someone did that to me last week and I felt violated. I wasn't asked, it was just thrust upon me. My thoughts and ideas were tainted by someone else's greed. Besmirched by some investing portfolio schmuck. Damn, I really want these people to fuck off. Everytime I get spam, or have some craphead post on here, or have a chat room invaded by porn bot, it churns my stomach. The people responsible for this crap need to be hunted like dogs and locked up in camp x-ray. (perhaps this is a bit much... but i have such a crippling hate for this shit...)
Don't get me wrong, I love to get responses from friends, colleagues and people foolish enough to read my blather... But at no point will I ever be comfortable with people sleazing their crap on my blog.
Why is it that whenever someone comes up with something fun and innovative like email, or blogging, there is always some evil shithead that insists on smearing their advertising feces all over it. Can't something every once in a while be left alone? Does business really need to tip it's ugly hand here? Can't the general public have the odd thing left untainted? It never ends...
Someone did that to me last week and I felt violated. I wasn't asked, it was just thrust upon me. My thoughts and ideas were tainted by someone else's greed. Besmirched by some investing portfolio schmuck. Damn, I really want these people to fuck off. Everytime I get spam, or have some craphead post on here, or have a chat room invaded by porn bot, it churns my stomach. The people responsible for this crap need to be hunted like dogs and locked up in camp x-ray. (perhaps this is a bit much... but i have such a crippling hate for this shit...)
Don't get me wrong, I love to get responses from friends, colleagues and people foolish enough to read my blather... But at no point will I ever be comfortable with people sleazing their crap on my blog.
08/29/05
Just as it started to get dark tonight, I went outside to have a cigarette. It was a nice night. The air was cool; giving off the impression that fall is just a stones throw away. It had rained briefly, and the air was fresher than is has been for several days.
The rain had done an excellent job of washing away the usually pervasive stink of car exhaust, and had given the streets a gleam, as though someone had spilled gloss all over the place. The sky was starting to morph into an inky blue, but still had a little reddish flare. It was wonderful. It’s moments like those that remind me why I still live in the west.
The streetlights had just begun to flicker on. I could hear them crackle and hum. They remind of a surly old man that has been woken abruptly, still sputtering and grasping at the reality of being alert. 60 cycles of constant rhythm, washing into what I find to be a comforting sound. It has this droning warmth to it, and gives me the same satisfaction that the fridge does when starts it’s ritual buzzing in the middle of the night.
Then something curious began. Just as I had lit my cigarette, I heard a caw, and then another, and another. The noises got louder. I looked up to see the biggest murder of crows I have ever seen. There were hundreds of them. They flew from building to building, taking the time to perch only for a second, then off to the next structure. They were restless, and soon started circling just above the power lines at the intersection.
It was like watching the beginning of a tornado. They created this vortex, spinning round and round, with every turn, more and more crows joining in. The intersection became a whirl of streaming black. It was glorious. I can’t remember a moment that compares to this. It was a strange and powerful event. For a just a second, I began to imagine that this might be the kind of moment where Edgar Allen Poe found inspiration. It had a sense of brooding drama, and seemed to be a gothic, and macabre painting that had come to life.
Then the birds whipped out of their twisting frenzy, and flew in an impressively tight formation towards the McDougal centre and ultimately finding sanctuary on its roof. It got quiet as quickly as it had been chaotic.
I must admit, I have always found crows to be fascinating creatures. They seem to move with purpose, and have a poise that birds shouldn’t have. For some reason, which is unknown to me, I have begun to think of them as wise, and I have implicated a sense of intelligence on them. They strike me as not the sort of common rabble that magpies and Pigeons are. They have a dignity and I find that curious.
On to other things…
Today was a productive day. I manage to accomplish a host of things that I had been tangled up in for too long. I am feeling less restless now. The summer doldrums have faded for now, and I am excited as we enter the fall. I feel as if there is much to do, and I am a man ready to roll up his sleeves and go headlong into the breach. The fall always has a sense of renewal for me. Perhaps it’s because as a kid, school always started in the fall, or because I feel more productive at this time of year. Regardless, I enjoy it, much the way I enjoy visits from old friends.
September bodes well for my chosen profession. It looks to be reasonably busy. I have a few kinks to work out in the act, and now realize its time to bring some new ideas to the stage. Overall it functions well, but I find I am straying further and further away from concrete material in favour of playing with ideas. What used to be awkward for me is now something that I am beginning to relish.
Now I must sleep.
The rain had done an excellent job of washing away the usually pervasive stink of car exhaust, and had given the streets a gleam, as though someone had spilled gloss all over the place. The sky was starting to morph into an inky blue, but still had a little reddish flare. It was wonderful. It’s moments like those that remind me why I still live in the west.
The streetlights had just begun to flicker on. I could hear them crackle and hum. They remind of a surly old man that has been woken abruptly, still sputtering and grasping at the reality of being alert. 60 cycles of constant rhythm, washing into what I find to be a comforting sound. It has this droning warmth to it, and gives me the same satisfaction that the fridge does when starts it’s ritual buzzing in the middle of the night.
Then something curious began. Just as I had lit my cigarette, I heard a caw, and then another, and another. The noises got louder. I looked up to see the biggest murder of crows I have ever seen. There were hundreds of them. They flew from building to building, taking the time to perch only for a second, then off to the next structure. They were restless, and soon started circling just above the power lines at the intersection.
It was like watching the beginning of a tornado. They created this vortex, spinning round and round, with every turn, more and more crows joining in. The intersection became a whirl of streaming black. It was glorious. I can’t remember a moment that compares to this. It was a strange and powerful event. For a just a second, I began to imagine that this might be the kind of moment where Edgar Allen Poe found inspiration. It had a sense of brooding drama, and seemed to be a gothic, and macabre painting that had come to life.
Then the birds whipped out of their twisting frenzy, and flew in an impressively tight formation towards the McDougal centre and ultimately finding sanctuary on its roof. It got quiet as quickly as it had been chaotic.
I must admit, I have always found crows to be fascinating creatures. They seem to move with purpose, and have a poise that birds shouldn’t have. For some reason, which is unknown to me, I have begun to think of them as wise, and I have implicated a sense of intelligence on them. They strike me as not the sort of common rabble that magpies and Pigeons are. They have a dignity and I find that curious.
On to other things…
Today was a productive day. I manage to accomplish a host of things that I had been tangled up in for too long. I am feeling less restless now. The summer doldrums have faded for now, and I am excited as we enter the fall. I feel as if there is much to do, and I am a man ready to roll up his sleeves and go headlong into the breach. The fall always has a sense of renewal for me. Perhaps it’s because as a kid, school always started in the fall, or because I feel more productive at this time of year. Regardless, I enjoy it, much the way I enjoy visits from old friends.
September bodes well for my chosen profession. It looks to be reasonably busy. I have a few kinks to work out in the act, and now realize its time to bring some new ideas to the stage. Overall it functions well, but I find I am straying further and further away from concrete material in favour of playing with ideas. What used to be awkward for me is now something that I am beginning to relish.
Now I must sleep.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
08/27/05 Sometimes change is good...
After a year of using the same template for the blog, I decided it was time for something different. Just black... simply and clean looking.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Marcus head shot 1
Marcushs3
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This is the first of three new headshots that I will be using...
08/26/05 Tubby Dog Rocks...
I have seen the future of fast food and it is Tubby Dog. Quite possible the finest hot dogs ever made by anyone ever. That statement may seem to be full of hyperbole, but just wait until you have one. Grilled to perfection, and then slathered with cheese, chili and a host of other wonderful condiments. It is nothing short of stupendous. There is no better street meat to be found anywhere.
Just to make it an event. You should take a peddle cab to Tubby Dog. It makes it that much more of an adventure.
Just to make it an event. You should take a peddle cab to Tubby Dog. It makes it that much more of an adventure.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
08/25/05 Part of the Process...
I asked the question “How did I become so jaded?” in the last post. I‘ve started thinking about it a little more, and here’s what I’ve come up with so far.
1). My first marriage (well not that you could really call it that… more like “that month of stupidity”…) really left a bigger dent in my soul than I had initially thought. It took a long time to forgive myself for being suckered into that.
To this day, I’m not sure what possessed me to run with that ball, especially given the less than charming temperament my ex was blessed with. She could have given Pol Pot a run for his money. Actually he probably would have cowered in fear in her presence. Think about the Emperor from Star Wars, and then remove warmth and any sense of humanity.
Hindsight being 20/20, it would have been more worthwhile to put my head in a vice and just start turning the bar until my eyes popped out. I could have given myself a little reassuring brain damage, and it would have been a lot cheaper.
That whole damn circus left some overt scars, and regrettably in turn, I left a trail of unhappy people in my wake. One day I’ll get the chance to apologize to the souls that I punished for my own misery, for my own piece of mind if for no other reason. Only in the last few years has that “scab” finally healed over.
2) Somewhere in my mid 20’s I wound up running with a group of really negative people. They were true champions of the bored and disaffected. (But the worst kind… The type that thinks they are the embodiment of the progressive and hip. A little too cool for school, or the “tragically hip” if you will… At the time, I lacked the will to see past them, and I think this cost me dearly.
Happily they moved on after I proved to be too set in my own ways.) Unfortunately before I bored them to tears, I let these people have an influence on the events in my life. They tried to dictate what I should wear, who I should date etc… In retrospect I think it’s a little funny that I got run over by an alpha male “art fag.”(That’s probably the first time those words were associated with each other ever…) From that point on I decided never to be someone’s “project” again.
It took a while to find myself. Stand up proved to be the tool that I needed to massage my confidence, and along the way I was able to sincerely shape my own true identity. My own force of will has set the tone for the things to come, and I must say I really like that.
3) Frustrations with the political climate of my environment have played their part too. My beliefs on what I consider to be right generally don’t jive with the people that surround me. Perhaps it’s my own naiveté, but it has driven me crazy.
4) The amount of time it took me to get my comedy career on track really fucked with my head, it was a frustrating experience to watch my friends succeed ahead of me, esp. since I never got feedback from anyone as to why I was being held back. I felt like running towards a brick wall head first, and at terminal velocity. It took me a while to realize that this business isn’t a race, and that hard work does pay off. These days things are working out well, and I’m doing great.
Perhaps I just needed a little more time on the farm team. Whatever it was, somewhere along the way things began to fall into place.
Anyway… there is definitely more to come…
1). My first marriage (well not that you could really call it that… more like “that month of stupidity”…) really left a bigger dent in my soul than I had initially thought. It took a long time to forgive myself for being suckered into that.
To this day, I’m not sure what possessed me to run with that ball, especially given the less than charming temperament my ex was blessed with. She could have given Pol Pot a run for his money. Actually he probably would have cowered in fear in her presence. Think about the Emperor from Star Wars, and then remove warmth and any sense of humanity.
Hindsight being 20/20, it would have been more worthwhile to put my head in a vice and just start turning the bar until my eyes popped out. I could have given myself a little reassuring brain damage, and it would have been a lot cheaper.
That whole damn circus left some overt scars, and regrettably in turn, I left a trail of unhappy people in my wake. One day I’ll get the chance to apologize to the souls that I punished for my own misery, for my own piece of mind if for no other reason. Only in the last few years has that “scab” finally healed over.
2) Somewhere in my mid 20’s I wound up running with a group of really negative people. They were true champions of the bored and disaffected. (But the worst kind… The type that thinks they are the embodiment of the progressive and hip. A little too cool for school, or the “tragically hip” if you will… At the time, I lacked the will to see past them, and I think this cost me dearly.
Happily they moved on after I proved to be too set in my own ways.) Unfortunately before I bored them to tears, I let these people have an influence on the events in my life. They tried to dictate what I should wear, who I should date etc… In retrospect I think it’s a little funny that I got run over by an alpha male “art fag.”(That’s probably the first time those words were associated with each other ever…) From that point on I decided never to be someone’s “project” again.
It took a while to find myself. Stand up proved to be the tool that I needed to massage my confidence, and along the way I was able to sincerely shape my own true identity. My own force of will has set the tone for the things to come, and I must say I really like that.
3) Frustrations with the political climate of my environment have played their part too. My beliefs on what I consider to be right generally don’t jive with the people that surround me. Perhaps it’s my own naiveté, but it has driven me crazy.
4) The amount of time it took me to get my comedy career on track really fucked with my head, it was a frustrating experience to watch my friends succeed ahead of me, esp. since I never got feedback from anyone as to why I was being held back. I felt like running towards a brick wall head first, and at terminal velocity. It took me a while to realize that this business isn’t a race, and that hard work does pay off. These days things are working out well, and I’m doing great.
Perhaps I just needed a little more time on the farm team. Whatever it was, somewhere along the way things began to fall into place.
Anyway… there is definitely more to come…
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
08/24/05 Back into the light...
I like taking little vacations from writing this blog. They help bring me a fresh perspective to the things that I normally rant and rage about. Lately the vacations have been more frequent, mostly because I am trying to excise some stale ways of thinking.
There are only so many ways to either praise or in my case usually demonize the things that affect you. Sometimes it can cloud your judgement, and you wind up writing in circles. It becomes a really difficult task to try and not rehash the same old crap over and over again.
Someone asked me the other day how I felt. For the first time in a long time it was instinctual to reply “Good.” It’s true. I feel good. I have escaped what had become a bit of a brain cloud. Historically speaking, it was normal for me to be critical about whatever was in my face at the moment. Which raises a really good question, how did I get to be so jaded?
I have been thinking a lot about how I might even begin to try and answer this. Over the next few weeks, I intend to elaborate further. Perhaps at the end I will become a cleric, or a madman, or more likely a combination of the two. Either way, stay tuned.
There are only so many ways to either praise or in my case usually demonize the things that affect you. Sometimes it can cloud your judgement, and you wind up writing in circles. It becomes a really difficult task to try and not rehash the same old crap over and over again.
Someone asked me the other day how I felt. For the first time in a long time it was instinctual to reply “Good.” It’s true. I feel good. I have escaped what had become a bit of a brain cloud. Historically speaking, it was normal for me to be critical about whatever was in my face at the moment. Which raises a really good question, how did I get to be so jaded?
I have been thinking a lot about how I might even begin to try and answer this. Over the next few weeks, I intend to elaborate further. Perhaps at the end I will become a cleric, or a madman, or more likely a combination of the two. Either way, stay tuned.
Friday, August 19, 2005
disney_war
disney_war
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This picture made me laugh. It's funny cause it's true.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
08/13/05 If Only James Taylor had an Eye Patch...
I spent part of Friday night alone, trying to bang out a new post. I went to the Planet Café figuring that perhaps it might lend me some encouragement. Sometimes I need a little push, and a different locale helps. Nothing like different stimuli to get the creative juices flowing. (And the coffee’s damn good too…)
Usually it’s quiet there. It’s the kind of place where urban hipsters flake out and load up on as much caffeine as I can handle in the run of a week. The staff there tends to be somewhat funkier than what a Starbucks would normally condone. Usually adorned with dreadlocks, and some sort of “Smash the State” kind of t-shirt, but always pleasant nonetheless. In a nutshell, these are my kind of people.
Normally I feel at home here, but much to my immediate horror, they had James Taylor blaring on the stereo. (Well as much as anyone can blare James Taylor…) For the record I hate his music. It’s soooo fucking weepy. It sort of sounds like a hound dog baying at the moon, only maybe like 30 percent more boring.
I feel about James Taylor much the way I feel about Pink Floyd. BORING… Hopelessly fucking boring, and totally self-indulgent. (I realize I have committed an act of sacrilege, but I don’t care… Both are less interesting than watching paint dry.)
I remember watching Pink Floyd’s Live at Pompeii, and thinking John Lennon’s dead, and these useless twits get to live. Life really isn’t fair is it? Perhaps Mark Chapman should have re evaluated his target. (Never trust a Presbyterian to do a man’s job…)
(About here is the point where a co-worker might say something like “Geez Marcus, Tell us how you really fell…)
Anyway, on to something else…
I’m going to do a few guest spots at the club tomorrow night. Truthfully I really need to do them anyway or my head might explode from boredom. I can’t remember the last time I was this bored. I really need something to occupy my time. Yesterday there was a moment when I truly contemplated driving a screwdriver into one of my eyes. I’m pretty sure that’s not good. I believe my optometrist would likely frown on the concept in its entirety. Although I do have a strange fondness a good eye patch.
I really haven’t felt like writing too much either. I just don’t seem to have the motivation for it. Perhaps I have finally slipped into a near vegetative state. Whatever it is, I feel like I’ve committed a crime against myself. The id and ego are both asleep and the soma has been towed to the impound lot, and It seems I have no idea where that might be.
One last thing...
I had to remove the comments from the foo fighters picture post, because some shithead decided to post some crappy advertising. I have a little message directed solely at the fiend. You have defaced my personal little space on the web, and you really need to fuck off. At no point have I ever fucked with your shit. Stay away you are not wanted here.
That's all... More to come later!!!
Usually it’s quiet there. It’s the kind of place where urban hipsters flake out and load up on as much caffeine as I can handle in the run of a week. The staff there tends to be somewhat funkier than what a Starbucks would normally condone. Usually adorned with dreadlocks, and some sort of “Smash the State” kind of t-shirt, but always pleasant nonetheless. In a nutshell, these are my kind of people.
Normally I feel at home here, but much to my immediate horror, they had James Taylor blaring on the stereo. (Well as much as anyone can blare James Taylor…) For the record I hate his music. It’s soooo fucking weepy. It sort of sounds like a hound dog baying at the moon, only maybe like 30 percent more boring.
I feel about James Taylor much the way I feel about Pink Floyd. BORING… Hopelessly fucking boring, and totally self-indulgent. (I realize I have committed an act of sacrilege, but I don’t care… Both are less interesting than watching paint dry.)
I remember watching Pink Floyd’s Live at Pompeii, and thinking John Lennon’s dead, and these useless twits get to live. Life really isn’t fair is it? Perhaps Mark Chapman should have re evaluated his target. (Never trust a Presbyterian to do a man’s job…)
(About here is the point where a co-worker might say something like “Geez Marcus, Tell us how you really fell…)
Anyway, on to something else…
I’m going to do a few guest spots at the club tomorrow night. Truthfully I really need to do them anyway or my head might explode from boredom. I can’t remember the last time I was this bored. I really need something to occupy my time. Yesterday there was a moment when I truly contemplated driving a screwdriver into one of my eyes. I’m pretty sure that’s not good. I believe my optometrist would likely frown on the concept in its entirety. Although I do have a strange fondness a good eye patch.
I really haven’t felt like writing too much either. I just don’t seem to have the motivation for it. Perhaps I have finally slipped into a near vegetative state. Whatever it is, I feel like I’ve committed a crime against myself. The id and ego are both asleep and the soma has been towed to the impound lot, and It seems I have no idea where that might be.
One last thing...
I had to remove the comments from the foo fighters picture post, because some shithead decided to post some crappy advertising. I have a little message directed solely at the fiend. You have defaced my personal little space on the web, and you really need to fuck off. At no point have I ever fucked with your shit. Stay away you are not wanted here.
That's all... More to come later!!!
Thursday, August 11, 2005
marcus4
marcus4
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This is a new graphing that I'm playing with. I think it's pretty cool, and will look smashing on the website that I'm working on.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Foo Fighters
My review of the show is as follows...
The Foo Fighters are superheros. I have seen no better band in my life. Dave Grohl rocks your lame ass...
Monday, August 08, 2005
08/08/05 Raining in My Neighbourhood
It's raining again. This summer has been so wet. I have been not so secretly building an ark in the living room. Erin didn't really like the idea of collecting the animals two by two... apparently we are just going to get a dog to bring.
neighbourhood1
neighbourhood1
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
This building is across the street from where I live. It's chock full of skids. The majority of the noise in my neighbourhood comes from the skirmishes in this place. (No matter what time of day...) There are nights when I truly wish that I had a flame thrower... or a bunch of leg hold traps... or a rocket launcher... so i could really give them a piece of my mind.
08/08/05 Pat McCormick is a Douche Bag
I haven’t exactly got the patience of a saint. (There’s not much that’s saintly about me… at all in fact…) I have a lot of Irish blood in me, and sadly the stereotypical temper comes with it. (Don’t get me wrong… I live a happy, peace filled life.) Over the years, I have managed to channel that temper in different ways.
Long gone are the days being ready to “go” when the likes of Pat McCormick (High School Bully and local douche bag…) go up in my face. (Even though he was a stupid, evil fucker, I never did wind up having to fight him, but I always wished that he would get the shit beating of a lifetime. I expect that given his cockish ways, it probably happened… and hopefully more than once. Hopefully more like a baker’s dozen…)
Perhaps being a comic has taught me that there are more than a few ways in which to express displeasure at someone else’s bullshit. I used to be quick to get hot about things, and now I find that stone cold, emotionally rational interaction works with incredible results. Cruel mocking is fun too, but I find that can just egg them on, and rarely can any good come from that.
That is unless someone is being a child. The more childish the behaviour, the harder it becomes for me not to lash out. Currently I have the miss fortune of dealing with an adult who would be better off in diapers. (And given that he is full of shit, I suspect they would be useful sooner or later…) It takes all my patience not to say the wrong thing. (Although truthfully, it would probably do that person some serious good… But it would also make things awkward for me in other areas of my life, and I just don’t need that right now.)
I think it’s pathetically sad when someone becomes so self indulgent in their own sense of self-steeping pity, that it becomes impossible to deal with them. On more than one occasion I have wanted to crawl through the Internet and throttle this person.
Trying to get a straight answer out of this person is like pulling out fingernails. Honestly though, I just want to smack him. I figure one good crack should do the trick. Well It won’t correct the situation, but at least I’d feel better for a little while. The smirk it would give me would be worth it.
Anyway…
Tonight is going to be Awesome. Brett, Nate and I are going to see the Foo Fighters. I’m really excited about it. I have needed a good rocker of a night for sometime. (One of those nights where the amps are cranked to 11…)
The weekend was good. On Friday, Erin and I went to a family function. It was fun; we roasted hotdogs, and flaked out in front of a roaring fire. It was a nice relaxing time. I like her family, they are well connected to one another, and that’s something I’ve missed since I left home. (Not that my family isn’t close, just spread all over the country.)
Saturday, Brett and I went to the football game. Calgary vs. Winnipeg. It was a kick ass way to spend the afternoon. Later we went to Yuks, Brett had a few spots, and I went along for amoral support. We wound up staying late after the show.
We sat there, being plied with booze, laughing and having a good catch up session. Derek Edwards was in town, and it was a pleasure to hang out with him. I haven’t seen him in a while, and I was surprised at how interested he actually was in my progress in the fucked up world of stand up.
Somewhere along the way Freddie pulled out a video camera, and the drunken stupor got recorded for posterity. I wonder what that will look like in ten years from now.
More to come…
Long gone are the days being ready to “go” when the likes of Pat McCormick (High School Bully and local douche bag…) go up in my face. (Even though he was a stupid, evil fucker, I never did wind up having to fight him, but I always wished that he would get the shit beating of a lifetime. I expect that given his cockish ways, it probably happened… and hopefully more than once. Hopefully more like a baker’s dozen…)
Perhaps being a comic has taught me that there are more than a few ways in which to express displeasure at someone else’s bullshit. I used to be quick to get hot about things, and now I find that stone cold, emotionally rational interaction works with incredible results. Cruel mocking is fun too, but I find that can just egg them on, and rarely can any good come from that.
That is unless someone is being a child. The more childish the behaviour, the harder it becomes for me not to lash out. Currently I have the miss fortune of dealing with an adult who would be better off in diapers. (And given that he is full of shit, I suspect they would be useful sooner or later…) It takes all my patience not to say the wrong thing. (Although truthfully, it would probably do that person some serious good… But it would also make things awkward for me in other areas of my life, and I just don’t need that right now.)
I think it’s pathetically sad when someone becomes so self indulgent in their own sense of self-steeping pity, that it becomes impossible to deal with them. On more than one occasion I have wanted to crawl through the Internet and throttle this person.
Trying to get a straight answer out of this person is like pulling out fingernails. Honestly though, I just want to smack him. I figure one good crack should do the trick. Well It won’t correct the situation, but at least I’d feel better for a little while. The smirk it would give me would be worth it.
Anyway…
Tonight is going to be Awesome. Brett, Nate and I are going to see the Foo Fighters. I’m really excited about it. I have needed a good rocker of a night for sometime. (One of those nights where the amps are cranked to 11…)
The weekend was good. On Friday, Erin and I went to a family function. It was fun; we roasted hotdogs, and flaked out in front of a roaring fire. It was a nice relaxing time. I like her family, they are well connected to one another, and that’s something I’ve missed since I left home. (Not that my family isn’t close, just spread all over the country.)
Saturday, Brett and I went to the football game. Calgary vs. Winnipeg. It was a kick ass way to spend the afternoon. Later we went to Yuks, Brett had a few spots, and I went along for amoral support. We wound up staying late after the show.
We sat there, being plied with booze, laughing and having a good catch up session. Derek Edwards was in town, and it was a pleasure to hang out with him. I haven’t seen him in a while, and I was surprised at how interested he actually was in my progress in the fucked up world of stand up.
Somewhere along the way Freddie pulled out a video camera, and the drunken stupor got recorded for posterity. I wonder what that will look like in ten years from now.
More to come…
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Friday, August 05, 2005
08/05/05 Just a little update...
I did some time at Yuks on Wednesday. It was really fun. I have changed my pacing on stage. It’s a little slower than it used to be, and a little more subdued. It seems to fit better with my personality, and is a little closer to who I am trying to present on stage. It almost feels like a well-tailored suit, fitting properly in all the right places. This is the first suit that actually makes this man, and I really like it.
The set went well. It was one of those moments when my actions played out in slow motion. Everything seemed to get blurry. It was very much like the precious few seconds before impact in a traffic accident. (Minus the bone shattering collision…) My level of control has changed too; I am more able to whip an audience into shape without using obvious techniques.
Stand up has become more of what I wanted it to be, an exercise in freedom. I am getting more and more comfortable with straying away from material and expanding on ideas without being anchored to the original joke. I like that,
Other stuff…
Brett has been in town for the last few days. I am enjoying seeing my old friend. He is more grounded than I have ever seen him be. He has started to weave the questions he has about the universe into his act. He has found patience on stage, and that is refreshing,
Tomorrow we are going to the football game. I haven’t been to one in a long time. He and I have the same unhealthy love of sports; although he is certainly better a rattling off stats than I will ever be. The impending return of hockey has made both of us into junkies, inhaling the daily trade reports as if they were the wisps of some sweet narcotic smoke. (Imagine the Saddle dome as an opium den for 19,000) I can’t wait for the first puck to drop. I need my fix.
More to come…
The set went well. It was one of those moments when my actions played out in slow motion. Everything seemed to get blurry. It was very much like the precious few seconds before impact in a traffic accident. (Minus the bone shattering collision…) My level of control has changed too; I am more able to whip an audience into shape without using obvious techniques.
Stand up has become more of what I wanted it to be, an exercise in freedom. I am getting more and more comfortable with straying away from material and expanding on ideas without being anchored to the original joke. I like that,
Other stuff…
Brett has been in town for the last few days. I am enjoying seeing my old friend. He is more grounded than I have ever seen him be. He has started to weave the questions he has about the universe into his act. He has found patience on stage, and that is refreshing,
Tomorrow we are going to the football game. I haven’t been to one in a long time. He and I have the same unhealthy love of sports; although he is certainly better a rattling off stats than I will ever be. The impending return of hockey has made both of us into junkies, inhaling the daily trade reports as if they were the wisps of some sweet narcotic smoke. (Imagine the Saddle dome as an opium den for 19,000) I can’t wait for the first puck to drop. I need my fix.
More to come…
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Bob Mould - Body Of Song
Bob Mould - Body Of Song
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
Okay... I've been a Bob Mould fan for as long as I can remember. I have waited for a long time for this record.
So far after 3 spins, I'd have to rate this album an 8 out of 10.
It's quite a solid effort, but there are a couple of stinkers on here. Sadly they suffer for exactly the same reason.
For a logic that is lost on me, Mould seems to insist on playing with one of those damn Vocorders. (See Cher's Believe...)
That being said other than (Shine Your) Light Love Hope, and I Am Vision, I Am Sound, this record rocks.
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