Eat the Powdered Donut

I’m a big fan of the incongruous, non sequitur, style of humour. The kind of stuff that most people would label (a bit inaccurately) as “random jokes”.

The reason I hate when people say my humour is random is the same reason I hate when people lean on the word “incredibly”.

It just makes people seem like they’re speaking lazily. Not choosing their words carefully.

Nothing I do, particularly when it comes to trying to make other people laugh, is random. I choose my words hoping to deliver the maximum comedic punch.

So when I’m sitting with friends watching a movie where a bunch of people are eating big fat, deliciously disgusting burritos I’ll say something like, “Damn… you know what I feel like eating all of a sudden?”

Invariably people will answer “burritos” or “Mexican food?” but instead I’ll shake my head and hit ’em with “Nah, man! Remember when Space Jam came out and they made all those Michael Jordan and Looney Toons gummy candies… THAT’S what I’m craving right now!”

It’s the completely disjointed unrelatability of it that makes me, and hopefully other people, laugh, but again, it certainly isn’t random.

I think to myself “what is SO far outta left field, that it’ll throw these fuckers off their game?”

Right now, I’ve made something of a performance art piece of myself.

I’ve transmuted myself into a horrifying tableau of the obscure and seemingly random.

I’m sitting alone, in a 24 hour Tim Horton’s wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs baseball cap, an Achievement Hunter hoodie, tattered jeans and a pair of weatherbeaten Crocs. I’m eating a medium sized bag of peanut butter M&M’s, a boxed Spinach Salad with almonds and mandarin orange slices and a small plastic bag of red shell pistachios while simultaneously drinking a medium frozen lemonade, a piping hot extra large black coffee and a poorly disguised blue “riot punch” in an Aquafina water bottle.

I’m listening to a 7 year old episode of SModcast and reading an old dog-eared copy of Forever by Judy Blume.

It is the funniest joke I’ve ever seen.

And it’s probably only funny to one goddammed person in the world.

I just ordered myself a powdered donut.

I’m gonna eat it, finish up this last chapter, leave the book on my chair, and head home

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Make the Missed Connection

For 2014 I didn’t want to engage in anything even resembling romance until after Valentine’s Day.

There’s no logical reason as to why, it was just one of the random, inflexible decisions I make. It’s like how I’m always hatin’ on “Whovians”, how I never trust people with blonde hair or my instant disdain towards anyone who uses “club” as a verb.

Despite my resolution I ended up meeting with a lovely young lady almost two weeks ago and we spent the evening watching a movie and getting to know one another.

With the idea of avoiding romance still in my head, I said my goodnights and left for home pretty early but not before sharing a chaste, yet strangely intense kiss.

I was in a bit of a post-date daze on my way home but this sort of pessimistic pall fell over me. I started thinking the whole evening was a mistake. After last year, I really don’t need the added complications that dating would bring to my life.

I thought to myself, “This girl is sweet and all but there’s nothing there, bruce.”

I guess I should mention I’ve been spearheading a campaign to replace “dude” with “bruce” in everyday conversation and I even use it when talking to myself.

I started to feel a bit blue so I put on my headphones and maxed out the volume on one of the many Kevin Smith podcasts on my iPhone. That’s when I felt someone poke me in the ribs.

I was standing on a pretty crowded subway platform and my initial urge to pivot like a prizefighter and throw a jab to the nose, fizzled away when I turned to face her.

Her lips moved and she smiled but I had no idea what she said, the master of SMod was jabbering too loudly in my ears. I lowered the volume and gave her my most charming “huh?”

She told me she liked my bag.

I’ve never understood when people use the word “plain” as if it’s a bad thing. I have a very nondescript personal style. I never wear anything with a corporate logo on it and if I wanna buy a piece of licensed merchandise I’ll only do it if it doesn’t have the name of the IP on it. It’s the reason I didn’t buy this awesome limited edition House Martell T-Shirt I saw on the HBO store. I loved the sigil but hated that it said “Game of Thrones”. I feel like those who appreciate it would be the ones who don’t need to be told what it is.

This is why the bag in question is one of my favourite possessions.

It’s just a plain black messenger bag except that it has the N7 logo on it and, the Bioware online store assures me, it’s made of ballistic nylon.

I watch a lot of Mythbusters and I’ve chosen to believe that means it’s bulletproof.

When she told me she liked my bag what I heard was “I know what N7 means. I’m cool! Let’s be friends.”

The next 20 minutes were the most pleasant I’ve shared with a complete stranger.

Eventually she had to get off the train but not before turning to me on her way out and saying “It was nice meeting you… find me on Craigslist!”

And with that she was gone.

The second I got above ground I went online and posted a Missed Connection on Craigslist. It was the first time I’ve ever done anything like that.

I don’t know exactly what my intention was. More than anything I feel excited about the prospect of making a new friend. It doesn’t hurt that she’s also super cute!

She responded to my missed connection and it got me more excited than I’m comfortable admitting.

Hopefully she’ll continue responding.

Host the Handsome Guest

Today Jaron Francis, the sexy and good looking half of Long Distance Bromance, left the big city and returned home to Saskatoon.

He came for a week and kept me company while the lovely CousCous was off globetrotting and visiting her family.

It was weird having him here. It had been so long since I had seen him and the last time he stayed with me my life was radically different from how it is now. Even though we’re constantly connected through the internet and we do the podcast every two weeks, not seeing him in person for so long sort of made me mythologize him in my mind.

I am a Golden God!

I am a Golden God!

It was fun to just relax like a pair of normal dudes, have a few drinks, enjoy some of Toronto’s finest hippie cuisine and wander the city for hours.

We walked everywhere this past week. I have a pedometer and I usually top out around 6,000 steps per day, or 15,000 on days when I go for my crazy walks. We averaged 8000 steps per day.

Not bad for a couple of hungover deviants amiright?

I would’ve written a post sooner this week. So much has happened but I wanted to maximize the amount of time spent having fun rather than writing about it.

I’m going to come back and make a proper post. For now enjoy this 100% genuine and unscripted video of me seeing Jaron for the first time in years!

Disturb the Sleeping Giant

Thanks to an unfortunate, yet serendipitous, typo I’ve started using a new internet acronym that I’d like to share with you all.

WYF!

It stands for “What ye fucke!” the olde timey way of voicing one’s displeasure without spelling out full words and still retaining a bit of quaint ol’ fashioned charm.

Right now it’s the only invective that adequately expresses how I feel about the newest trailer for World War Z.

Brad Pitt...Go Fuck Yourself!

Brad Pitt…
Go Fuck Yourself!

What ye fucke, indeed?

In order to give everyone a bit of context, and I’m sure it will become clear in the coming paragraphs, I am obviously deeply disturbed when it comes to my love for this book. World War Z is my 100% absolute favourite book EVER!

This movie, on the other hand…

On the short list of things that I don’t joke about, one of the very few topics I consider out of bounds, or taboo is Cancer. My aunt died of brain cancer when I was a teenager. She was one of my favourite people in the world. Her passing is still among the worst days of my life. I don’t take it lightly.

That being said, this movie looks like the cinematic equivalent of infant bone cancer. They could’ve called it Osteosarcoma and it would have been a more appropriate title.

That’s how much I love this book and how bad this trailer made me feel.

Ridiculous hyperbole aside, people who are unfamiliar with the book often ask me “What’s it about?” and I have never been able to answer that question in less than 45 minutes. Lots of folks will try to deconstruct it and say dumb things like “It’s about zombies!” and to them I say, after a chastising (but affectionate) backhand to the face “That’s like saying The Bible is about a bunch of shepherds!”

Cmdr. Shepard Systems Alliance N7 Special ForcesFirst Human Spectre for the Citidel Council, Messiah

Cmdr. Shepard, Systems Alliance Space Navy: N7 Special Forces,
Citadel Council’s First Human Spectre,
Carpenter and Messiah.

I went on a crazy rant about it on this week’s Long Distance Bromance so I’ll try to reign in the ire on this blog. The less I talk about it the better, because so far it’s just been a source of grief and it get’s me irrationally angry the more I think about it. Over the past few months I’ve been making a concentrated effort to feel better about myself and life in general so I won’t say any more on this sore subject. You’ve got to accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative,

So instead of the anti-Brad Pitt tirade that will make me seem even crazier, I want to take some time to write about something positive.

I went on a date Thursday. It was the second time I went out with this girl. She’s super cute and super cool and I’m eagerly awaiting the opportunity to see her again. In addition to being very pretty she’s a great conversationalist and funny too. The plan was to meet for a quick bite to eat, she was taking me to sample some of Kensington Market’s finest vegan desserts. We ended up staying for hours just talking and laughing until the guy behind the counter’s dirty looks forced us to stop loitering long after we had finished.

Not wanting the fun to end we wound up wandering around aimlessly taking in the mild weather and sporadic sunshine just enjoying one another’s company. At one point during our walk we found a pair of discarded books just laid out on the ground. We each took one, sort of as a souvenir.

photo(8)

“I’ve often felt like a discarded book… waiting for someone to take the time to stop and pick me up off the floor.”
-Unknown Hipster Poet

We wrapped up the evening back at my apartment where we got a little snuggly on my couch and tried to outmatch each other while watching Jeopardy!

Sounds like a dream girl, amiright?

Most people will probably take for granted the normalcy of this kind of interaction and are probably asking themselves, “So what? Big Deal!”

The big deal is that I’m notoriously misanthropic. I don’t get along with very many people and the times when I actually DO find people I like, they, for whatever reason, don’t seem to like me. To find someone who piques my interest AND who can tolerate me is amazing.

Again, I feel like I’m flogging a dead horse with all the podcast plugs but I tell some crazy online dating horror stories on the newest LDB. I wasn’t having the best luck and was feeling discouraged but one of my favorite bloggers has been a source of inspiration with her recent positive experiences in the world of internet dating. Read her blog, she’s insightful and snarky!

At this point I’m not expecting too much. I’m happy just getting to know this girl and am looking forward to spending more time together. Where it goes nobody knows, but what I do know is that I’ve been on 2 dates with this girl and I’ve enjoyed every second. We’ll all just have to stay tuned to see what happens next.

Shed the Heavy Burden

Less than 8 hours ago I felt worse than I have in almost a year. Right now, at this moment I’m feeling the complete opposite.

I’m pleased with this shift and I’m crossing my fingers hoping that I’ve allowed myself to be cheered up and that I’m not just crazy bipolar, fluctuating between two extremes.

I ended up forcing myself to go to the party I was nervous about attending. It was the lesbian equivalent to a Stag and Doe. A Doe-sy Doe!

I met some really cool new people, and I wasn’t a jerk. I think I was even a bit charming.

It didn’t hurt that I had, just hours earlier, unloaded all my stress by pouring it out of my brain and into the internet and it also didn’t hurt that I had had a few bevs and hogged the mic at the party’s karaoke station.

Its just a bit after 2 AM and for the first time in months I feel like I’m going to fall asleep easily instead of tossing and turning until sunrise.

I just felt like I needed to update VTAN with some positive news after how dark and disturbing my last entry was.

The only thing about the night I regret is not taking pictures. It was a Lesbian wedding party. Good food, fun and games, amazing prizes, pretty girls AND ROCKBAND and the only picture I took was of a cookie shaped like the Millennium Falcon!

It's the cookie that made the Kessel Run in less that @twelveparsecs

It’s the cookie that made the Kessel Run in less than @twelveparsecs

Drink the Good Scotch

It’s no secret that in today’s world of sensationalist media the stories that get all the attention aren’t the most well researched or socially relevant but rather the most exciting. This means sex and violence. Since the overall goal of this project is to get people to understand me more and like me better I don’t think we’re quite yet ready for one my sex stories.

So that leaves violence. Here we go.

I got hit by a car last week.

I’m gonna be jumping back and forth chronologically and making wild tangential asides so try to focus. Also there’s no need to point out my my unnecessary use of paragraph breaks. I write the way I speak, which is long winded, simultaneously narcissistic and self deprecating, and full of pauses for dramatic effect.

I went to a bar last weekend with people I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a friend’s birthday party but it was meant to be a low key “non-event”. I was initially hesitant because it usually falls onto me to be the entertaining one in social situations. It’s a lot of pressure when you’re not feeling too enthusiastic about where you are or who you’re with and as natural as it may seem from the outside, most of this charm is affected. But, I heard that a person that I had wanted to see would be there so I went.

I got there exactly on time so I circled the block for a few minutes and almost froze my ears off. It was cold as dicks and I didn’t wear a winter hat because I had my hair so carefully disheveled. I wanted the illusion of messiness not the real things and so my ears paid the price. When enough time had passed where I wouldn’t appear to be too eager I walked in to find a dozen people already 3 rounds in, and having a great time despite my absence. It was pretty relaxing having that burden taken off my shoulders seeing how they were all able to have fun without me there to be the life of the party. The person I was most interested in seeing wasn’t there though and those in attendance weren’t exactly what you would call my biggest fans.

So I started drinking. Everyone was splitting pitchers but they had been there hours before the scheduled meeting time so in an effort to catch up I started ordering Scotch and Sodas. Within 20 minutes I had thrown back 3 doubles and was starting to feel uninhibited. I was wrestling with my scumbag brain to not make the situation awkward by bringing up that fact that I, not too long ago, had a bit of a romantic dalliance with a certain lady in attendance who had brought her new boyfriend to the party.

He didn’t know anyone at a table full of friends and so rather than being left out of conversations he started clutching onto topics like a drowning man in the flotsam. Inevitably I got stuck talking to him but I couldn’t pay any attention to anything he was saying. I felt bad for the guy but I didn’t care too much because I was still waiting for someone to show up so that the real fun could start.

That’s when I got a text, “I’m not coming. Tell everyone I said hi and wish her a Happy Birthday from me.” I was bummed to be sure, but I wasn’t going to let this bring me down so I just kept the party rolling and continued having a good time.

So I kept drinking and everyone kept talking, I kept making everybody laugh and the night wore one. Eventually everyone left except for the birthday girl, her boyfriend and this one other really cool guy. We stayed until last call and the birthday girl ordered me 2 more Glenfiddichs bringing my total score for the night to 8 (10 including the ones I had with dinner before going out). When it was time to go she said what she probably meant as a compliment but what made me never want to go anywhere with anyone ever again. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “It would’ve been no fun without you here!”

I left the bar feeling like a clown who gets hired to perform at kids parties. The subway had stopped running and so I needed to catch the Yonge bus to get home. I saw one starting to pull up to the stop but I was on the wrong side of the street.

I needed to make a break for it.

There were a few cars crossing, but this one must’ve been closer than I had thought because as I made my wobbly-legged sprint to the bus stop the guy in the car leans on the horn and slams on the breaks. He comes to a skidding stop just a few feet away but the snow, ice and slush on the street had him slide forward and close the gap between us. His bumper hit me in the right knee and I toppled over, my shoulder bouncing off his hood, and collapsed onto the floor. I shot up onto my feet immediately as if nothing happened because at the time my main concern was still catching the bus, but it had already passed.

I looked back as if realizing for the first time that there was a car behind me and the driver started shouting at me before speeding off. I was left standing in the middle of The World’s Longest Street at 2:30 AM completely alone. I felt like the last survivor of the apocalypse as I limped back to the bus stop.

I eventually made it home but not before getting kicked off the bus at Eglinton. I walked the rest of the way with a veggie dog in one hand while I sent multiple sexually harassing text messages with the other.

I woke up the next morning fully clothed with a pocketfull of toonies and a sore knee and shoulder but NO HANGOVER.

The moral is “Don’t waste your time. Always drink the good stuff.”