One week later...
I woke up thinking about my ex this morning, and she stayed in my mind pretty much all day long. While I was pulling out the remainder of the pinkish-red hair that still haunts every cloth I sleep with, I thought about what she had told me when I kicked her out of my life: "I hope you don't call me in a few days/weeks to tell me you're sorry, 'cause I can't live with uncertainty." Actually, I still don't think I made the wrong decision, but early in the morning, I missed waking up with someone by my side, I found my shower a bit wide for a single person, and, quite frankly, when I watched porn to try and get my mind thinking about another girl, I still had her smiling in the back of my brain, and I missed the sex...
Not that it was special, but it was the first time I ever went steady with someone, and even tough I had sex with another girl a week ago, I can't help but think that it's hard to find someone you're really confortable with, let alone stay with that person long enough to officially call it a relationship. And I have to admit she was right on some major points:
one- I CAN feel love, and I KNOW what it is, despite the way I used that first point to explain why I was dumping her...
two- I REGRET leaving her, not because it went all that well, but because at least I had something
and three: I AM a lonely person who only needs to be surrounded once in a while to value his own existence.
...now, am I going to weep in my corner and blame myself for what's happening to me, or put on my boots and kick my own ass up to get a better deal out of the next girl I meet? Am I about to meet someone who'd be up to my standards? Am I ready for something long-term? And is it really the right time to try and awnser all these questions? NO...this is not the right time, nor can anybody make it right but myself when and if I decide that my balls need to be emptied on a regular basis. Physically speaking, it's clear as broad daylight that I'm the kinda man who often thinks with his cock, and like other dickbrains I use my schlong as a thermometer for the hotness of chicks I randomly meet and salivate upon when I go out. Now, as a reccuring flaw, I'm about as articulate when it comes to talking to girls (especially the ones that are complete strangers) as an Irishman at 3 in the morning...I find myself speechless, breathlesss, and often pointless as I evidently wind up walking home alone after a night of defeat. But, once in a while, something happens and I find a suitable partner (or one that's drunk enough) and I block because I can't help but think about tommorow, ruining most of my chances of getting laid on a regualr basis.
I used to be a careless teen who saw one night stands as experience and challenge. I could pick up my high school yearbooks and point the ones who were kind enough to let me eat their cunt, but I've thrown these mementos of the past away long ago. Nowadays, I want something more quiet and less risqué, as condoms have never felt right on me. But...ah...fuck...off... Okay, I miss her...
 

Stoner Love
The year began in a very unusual way for me, and I'd like to take a moment to sum up what I've learned from what, at first sight, seemed to be a bad experience. On Dec. 27th, a saturday, out of the fucking blue, I decided to go to the Foufs and meet a pal who had the intention to match me with a friend of his then-girlfriend. As my luck often runs out, the girl could've fucked anyone in that bar, but me, never...So I was stuck without a bed in Mtl and I figured I was going to spend the night in a Starbucks somewhere, fueling on coffee until the first subway came to get me in the morning. Then I met this girl, the ex of a friend of a friend, a girl I had seen about three or four times in my life, who invited me for tequila shots at the bar. So, I start explaining my situation and she offers me a ride to her place, with a place to sleep beside her, and I figure I can't get a better deal, so I followed her. We spooned all night, watched "Tromeo & Juliet" in the afternoon, and I got back home, safe and sound.
Then, on New Year's eve, she calls me and aasks if she can sleep at my place after the Bil's party, a 20$ open bar. I figure we'll both be drunk, cuddle a bit, and that's gonna be fine, but I never imagined I was going to pronounce the dreadful question after spending a few days with her..."Are we together?" And I was up for the challenge of something that never happened to me; dating someone...Now, I won't go into all the details of what happened, but let's just say that we didn't connect on many things, especially in music, where we oftne had very different tastes, which is a huge issue for me since I fell in love with music before I was even born. And I quickly realized I wasn't in love with her, but with the idea of not being alone...
So we broke up, and I now know that, even though this relationship didn't work, I have some room in my heart for that special someone who can make me whole. I am content with the way my life is turning out, besides some minor financial difficulties, and solitude is not the same as loneliness, because one is a choice that involves self-reflection and thinking, while the other is a feeling of emptiness that needs to be filled by another person. I have more than enough friends who can cheer me up, give me a hand, share a beer and/or a spliff, have a serious talk with, and basically I'm never really alone, unless I decide to. The freedom that I have, not being tied to anyone, friend or lover, is a precious and fragile advantage that gives me the strenght and will to go on with my life until something better comes my way, until I can swim out of the gutter and prove myself, accomplish myself, learn to love myself, learn to be proud of what I have and how I got there.
Basiacally, I learned that in order to fall in love with someone else, I have to feel good about myself and, most and foremost, feel it inside my gut that this woman can rock my world, challenge my intellect, become essential to my well being...and that can't be done in three weeks, but I firmly believe in "Love at first sight"...just when I bought my guitar, but in a more organic way, instinctively, a primal urge...but for now, all I can do is get stoned, crash on my couch, and play my guitar until something worthy comes out to make my day... and you know what? I'm fine with that...
Debilitated sense of invincibility
- Bikes in the winter: Now, please, tell me those assholes noticed that ice is slippery, that mountain bikes have tires that don't really grip in the snow, that cars are always honking them, that they look like a bunch of crazies with their thick layers of clothing that reduce their mobility on the goddamn bike...why don't they just walk?
- Heath Ledger: Fucking corpse won a Golden Globe? Big Deal. My mom could earn a Golden Globe if she guest starred in some primetime series...now he's nominated for an Oscar? Best Supporting Actor? Fuck off. Give it to Downey Jr. for Tropic Thunder, at least he deserves it and he can actually put it on his fireplace...
- Hockey: Last weekend was the All-Star game, an occasion for players to prove that they're worth the tens of millions they earn every year. And the season's past the half mark, the Leafs still suck, and I have no interest whatsoever as long as the playoffs don't begin. But I still got the beard...
- Obama elected: Hey, nothng against the guy, but when are the media going to get over the fact that he's black and talk about what measures he didn't take yet to bring the soldiers back from the Middle-East?
and that's it...more to come...later...promised...  

(Anyone who writes this way is a retard, a moron, and an illiterate)

As an old man, it is my duty to criticize the youths of today. And I'm not that old, but there's a significant difference between my generation (the SNES gen) and the one after (the N64 gen)...Nowadays, you get to meet a bunch of undereducated morons whose knowledge could fit in a first generation iPod, not to mention that their bleak future's scarred in advance by the ever-mind-numbing pop music of these days. I mean, pop's always been dumb, but at least in my time, Aerosmith, Metallica, GnR, and various other respectable bands got some airplay on commercial radio. I look at the kids, and all I see is a bunch of future convicts and their unwed teenage pregnant girlfriends who have to work as tired cold-coffee serving waitresses by day, and as cheap 10$ rimjobbing/extasy peddeling hookers in order to buy their way out of misery....then again, I'm sure the NES gen must've said something similar about us, so maybe there's hope after all...

...and now...

10 Movies nobody should ever even think about maybe renting on a rainy day when all the new stuff's out, and there's nothing on TV, and the bowling alley just burned to the ground, and it's too clod to play putt-putt golf, and every movie's sold out at the theatre, and Drew Care'y been sick for a month so the last taped re-runs of The Price Is Right you have were hosted by a terribly boring Jason Alexander who wishes he and Jerry Seinfeld were still doing comedy together because ever since, his carrer's been going down the drain faster than Lance Armstrong on EPO trying to escape the mobster who found out Lance bet on his own race...

(Hell, try to beat that as a title!!!)

So...Not included on this list are obviously films that feature actors who never did anything good (Eddie Murphy, Owen Wilson, Steven Segal, etc...) and films forever to be known for thier lack of consistence (Glitter, White Chicks, Elektra, etc...) but most of these are major studio pictures that may or may not have been shown in theatres, and despite everything, sucked the brains right under the zombie's teeth and made them softer than a trisomic on opium (I should really watch it with politically incorrect jokes like that...)

10- Waterworld: Kevin Costner is a merman, chased by Dennis Hopper, and action sequences aboard his floating piece of crap ship couldn't nearly compensate for the lack of talent of the leading man, who apparently also starred in one of the best Robin Hood adaptations ever. To be honest, all I remember about the movie is that I never got interrested in the story and I just wanted to destroy the VHS (yes, we once didn't watch movies on discs) with a sledgehammer, puke on it, and bring it back to the store to put the blame on my VCR or my mom, who still thinks K-Cost is cute...

9- House of the dead: Let's face it, all the game-to-screen adaptations so far have been fair, at best. But if you thought Mario Bros. and Double Dragon were silly, imagine a game that consists in shooting zombies with a plastic 12 gauge (in the arcade version) in a ruined apocalyptic city...now, the movie takes place on a kind of jungle-island-secret-rave-party-that-goes-wrong...Honestly, I fast-forwarded to the end from the 15th minute, and I still found I was wasting my time...

8- Theodore Rex: Whoopi Goldberg plays a wise-cracking cop forced to team up with a guy in a T-rex costume. Look, I know it's a children's movie, but if I wanted to harm my children that bad, I'd pour gas on them and light up quarter-sticks of dynamite in their rooms at night rather than let them sit through this piece of shit...

7- Dracula 2000: A real smart-ass had the wonderful idea of tying the classic story of Count Vlad Tepes to the biblical story of Judas, making it even scarier that the Prince of the Damned would also be a traitor responsible for the crucifiction of the second most famous child-loving Jew (after Woody Allen)...as far as vampire movies go, this is probably the idea of a guy who dared wanting to do exponentially worse than Vampire in Brooklyn and Buffy put together...

6- First Knight: This is the story of Camelot under King Arthur (Sean Connery), and the feud over a girl he had with one of the knights, lamely played by Pretty Woman's Richard Gere. Now, nothing against Connery, who must've been drunk when he signed on to do this, but as far as the plot goes, the horses are rather more convincing than any other actor trying to look medieval in this awful rendition of the Arthurian tales...

5- Ghosts of Mars: The chick from Species plays a kind of federal agent. Ice Cube plays a criminal. They get to a place populated by alien-body-pierced-zombies and they have to team up in order to survive...That movie just made no sense at all and, if there is an availible version that only features the score, the story looks like a 90 minute video for a Swedish metal band...

4- Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon: I'd like to point out that this is the only Kubrick movie that won the most awards, but this three hour epic based on some novel was so slow that you'd have to be braindead to appreciate any of it. Truly, some of the cinematic techniques employed in it were revolutionnary at the time, but it doesn't compensate for Ryan O'Neal's lack of expression as the title role, and most of all, talking about it won't bring me back these six hours where I desperately watched it (twice) trying to find it interesting. 

3- Getting even with Dad: Macualay Culkin has a girlish look and he's pissed at Ted Danson for not being around when he needed him, so he fucks up his life and learns him a valuable lesson about fatherhood. Meanwhile, Culkin's real-life family are letting their most sucessful son appear in piece-of-shit movies with forehead freak Ted Danson so they can pay their hippie-era drug debts, which, as we all figured, ended in too many unwanted pregnancies and ugly-as-fuck kids who can't act their way out of a Micheal Jackson pyjama party...

2- Phone Booth: Colon Farrell gets stuck on a pay phone talking to Keifer Sutherland about how much he would've wanted to have a father who also had talent and wimpy Farrell admits he's a liar trying to screw everyone on his way just to prove that he's famous for something...

1- Mr.Baseball: Tom Selleck gets sent to play baseball in Asia, where everybody's shorter than him, but he still amnages to have a crush on an asian girl who gets his confidence going again...and he has a mustache. Baseball's a lame sport, Tom Selleck is a bad actor, and the two of them together is like trying to have Chocolate Mousse with hot pepper sauce...

Headlines for fuckheads

Linguistic debate: In Qc, the separatists have long made it clear in their children's minds that the English are bad people, so the kids are afraid of learning english and are bound to stay in this weird mini-culture that prides on such things as dubbed cartoons and Celine Dion. In the rest of Canada, people think that Quebecers speak bad english, therefore having to treat them like kids who dropped out of elementary. This two-way war has been going on for over 400 years and it's still ridiculous, because the key is bilingualism, and the door it ultimately opens is the one where people finally realise that english is understood everywhere beyond Canada, wheras french is only spoken by a few...but then again, you communicate with whoever you want...

NHL: I didn't get to watch a complete game yet, but I know that the Mtl media is all over the Habs, and that the Leafs don't have a really solid team this year. but damn am I glad baseball's finally over...

Phillies: They won the World series in the rain after being postponed for two days. Anyone cares? moving on then...

President Obama?: It looks like he's gonna win. but before he can repair the damage done by 8 years of Texan supremacy, it's gonna take at least 20 straight years of Democrats. So, roll up your sleeves Barrack, 'cause there's a lot to do...

2nd Krash and CAN$: Isn't it ironic that the economic situation's going bad in the States? It sure as hell has nothing to do with the gazillion dollars wasted on the military's mission to free middle-Eastern oil from Islam control while making sure that gun factories provide work for as many Republicans you can keep away from getting killled in a useless war...meanwhile, the Duck's goin' down, and it becomes very expensive to buy online for people who aren't really responsible for the poverty beyond the border...

Led Zeppelin: Plant decided he wasn't going to tour with the other guys, so now they're looking for a replacement. Did it work for the Doors? For Queen? For Sabbath with Dio? The singer provides a unique instrument whose sound, when altered, makes the music feel somewhat wrong, and is bound to disapoint fans who paid 200+$ to see a band falsely advetised by its famous denomination...

Blue toothpaste: I've seen an ad on TV that talked about this product that colours tartar or cavities or whatever, BLUE. Of course, kids are foing to find it funny, but when their teeth start falling in 15 years, somebody at Colgate is going to wonder if they should've made lab testing before marketting the product...

Folk music: Recently, I started giving a more attentive ear to people like Dylan and Neil Young, both of which are performing arena shows. I've seen what they can do, but, let's face it, paying 180$ to see a guy standing in front of a mic with an acoustic guitar is not money well-spent...you can get the Stones for the same price, and the visual spectacle is a bit more worthy...I mean, you gotta compare old men with other old men...some can move, some don't...some can afford fireworks and lighting effects, some can't...some are good on record, but fewer are better live...

"I kissed a girl": I heard that song on the radio and I thought: This is nothing new: a pro-lesbian song...Melissa Etheridge did "Like the way I do" in 1988, and if you can stand to look at her face for more than 10 seconds, you'll see what real dykes look like, and suddently think: well, most lesbians aren't that cute...remember lesbians in porn are just coke-whores trying to pay for college (if they have ambition...)

McCiabatta: The Angus burger and Crispy chicken are now served on the thickest bread ever, which makes it harmful to the jaw. Ciabatta is an Italian bread, McDonalds an American junk food joint. Stick with the classics, and don't try multi-culturalism just because half of your staff are illegal immigrants...

Manual jobs: NOT HANDJOBS. It seems that, in a near future, there will be need for plumbers, mechanics, electricians, roofers, basically, any job where you either build of fix something using logic and manual labor together. Now, for all these losers trying to make it to a Doctor's degree, this is bad news, because they'll all wind up unemployed with not enough money to call someone to fix their toilet, and not knowing how to. Meanwhile, manual workers are gonna make a fortune out of the cluelessness of the overeducated who, still paying for their overpriced education, will ultimately become the middle class...and Mad Max's gonna save us all in the end, so don't worry...

DLR: I don't care what anyone says, Van Halen songs are better musically under his voice, but I can't stand it anyways. David Lee Roth used to hold his left testicle in the recording booth and pinched it between two fingernails at the end of each rhyme, causing his to pig-squeak like a madman in every song he ever recorded. As a matter of fact, I think if you remove his squeals from the songs, you can actually hear the guitar going slightly higher to sustain the high notes, but the choice between a flashy fucker in leather pants and the sound of a Strat shouldn't be this hard to make...

Monster Trucks: I'm sure there's enough rednecks who enjoy this type of event, but if I could understang inbred lingo, I'd ask what they find interesting about a big truck crushing a small car for a few hours...might as well run the lawnmower over some Hot Wheels if you ask me...

Next Blog: How to masturbate doggie-style, the 10 movie stars I wouldn't fuck  even if they were dead, and a delicious reciepe for dripping peacan pie...not...   

 

What the Hell? Since when have they started making Kryptonite condoms? That's about as riconculous as Shaq in "Steel"...

...and while we're on the subject, since O'Neal's an Irish name, how many beers does it take to get that overpaid 7' motherfucker drunk?

I still can't write. I think computers have made me a lazier writer, so I though I'd go back to old school ruled sheets and HB lead, altough I can't stand the sight of a yellow pencil (and why is YELLOW the standard anyways?) so I use this mechanical pencil instead, and I curse every time the lead breaks or gets shorter as I'm right in the middle of a long sentence, which is apparently my trademark...

Paper has its physical limitations to blame for its modern-day electronic counterpart, as writers everywhere were getting sick of side-notes and the ever-fustrating continued on page 11... so, every time a writer uses Word, he owes a little more to a guy who made a fortune selling an expensive and incomplete program that you absolutely need, in America at least, in order to work an even more expensive piece of macinery that's already technologically impaired the day after you took it out of the box...every piece sold separately, of course...

...but I did write ever since the last time I published a blog. I wrote about half a dozen songs. Now songwriting is another thing altogether, because it applies some fair writing abilities on a medium where I have so much more to learn. Not only do I have to facce the limitations in space and rhyme, but also the fact that 35 lines ain't much to make a point, withoout leaving loose ends...

I feel the last three years of my life have broght me back to square one, leaving traces of knowledge and wisdom through life experience, but coming full circle to the place I wanted to leave to begin with. I actually started to write these lines on ink at my workplace, because the mind-numbingness of the job at the factory reminds me how I escaped boredom all the way through unchallenging and boring school teachers. In class, I could write anything and still pass the class because the notes I had to study were either online or in print, or better yet, xeroxed from another (and often better) student whose handwriting was readable...

Now, I'm really tired of playing chess against myself, with every move I make bringing me closer to victorious defeat. I know now that I'll always grow against the grain and all which hasn't killed me yet made my life more miserable and lonely. I'm wondering why ignorance is bliss to all the so-called normal peple, or as I commonly reffer to them, the unawakened...

I've been having these crazy thoughts about gong to a shrink, altough it never worked for me in the past. I really can't open up to a complete stranger whose judgement I feel from the instant I walk through his door, not to mention that he gets paid for calling me crazy...

I love that linke in Kevin Smith's "Clerks", where Dante says: You hate people, and Randall awnsers: But I love gatherings, isn't that ironic...

Am I hard to follow? That's probably due to the fact that I don't really know where I'm going or rather how far I'm sinking...but then again, for all it's worth, I think confusion is a prelude to reflection, which leads to action...which brings the human soul closer to its completion, its full maturity...

...I'm feeling old, and I feel some things have slipped by me, and no matter how convinced I am that these things are gone for good, I hopelessly beg for a second chance to grasp them and make up my mind...

I guess there's no point to what I'm saying, it's all random thoughts thrown together in a scramble...but maybe this conversation with myself will eventually lead me to better understand what purpose it had...

...I smoke too much... 

Really...you wake up at 9:57 because your brain tells you that you set the alarm for 10 sharp, and you don't want to be waken up by the irritating sound of and old 1980's GE clock-radio that makes a tidbit more noise than a firetruck passing through your bedroom...Your teeth feel rotten from the inside, just like if you slept all night with the remainder of gastric acid that just wouldn't get thrown up when you layed dizzy in your bed a few hours ago...Your head feels like if your pupils were swollen, kept open by poker chips, your temples hurt just holding your eyeglasses, which you have no choice to wear because that goddamn yellow bastard, provider of Vitamin D, and closest star in the sky, is showing its sunny side up around seven and creeeps between the blinds like a thief stealing away the night...Your breath feels like if you licked a filtty ashtray and there's still an aftertaste in your mouth that reminds you never to accept shots, especially if girls are choosing them...The morning wood doen't rise when you think about some of the girls you met the night before, but it sure does when your bladder wans to remind you that you had 6 too many beers on an empty stomach...

You get in the shower and get cleaned up, but still feel like shit anyhow, and the only thing that can bring you back up again is a strong black cup of coffee...but you're too lazy to make any, so you wait to get to the nearest convenient store and bother the undereducated clerk behind the counter with a pile of spare nickels and dimes...You grab a Tylenol and laugh because you're swallowing 2 extra-strenght caplets, as "Nobody wants regular strenght anymore, no, Give me the maximum human dosage. Calculate what could kill me, and then, just back it up a notch..." J. Seinfeld...

And the day is just slowly starting, and you discourage yourself as you get closer to 1 o'clock, knowing that the day doens't end until midnight...well, 3AM in my case...

Now, where was I?

Oh, yeah. See, back in the old days, my grandma was telling me, women had no right but to stay home and take care of the children, and kids were more polite, grew up to be more responsible, blah, blah, blah...it's a bunch of hogwash if you ask me...I try to tell my grandma that some things evolved beyond her wildest drems, that the way they lived was alright back then because they didn't know better, that nowadays oral sex is a standard practice, that the fact that most kids lose their virginity around 15-18 years old after being exposed to the most hardcore pornography their tiny minds can look for on the internet is a good thing, but no...she just lives in the past...and she can't believe that I've never introduced a girlfriend to her. So I tell her it's complex, that I'm looking for near perfection, strike that, suitably perfect, that most girls who're attracted to me are demented psychos, that most girls I'm attracted to, I'm too shy to talk to them, thinking they're too pretty for me...

But the fact remains: Women are insane.

Now, I don't want to look like someone who judges a whole group by the sterotype, as it is so often done with me. But there are women and bitches, just like there is a Jekyll and a Hyde. A girl can look sane when she's rightfully accompanied by a suitable masculine accessory, but once this poor wallet on legs goes away, they hysterically cry their love out. The guy could've been an asshole who didn't respect her, who beat her up, who cheated on her, who left the toilet seat up just so she falls in the water at night, but the girl Loves him...

And I try really hard to play the good guy role, as my looks betray my character and most people think I'm a metalhead at first sight. Truth is no matter how good you are, the most interesting girls are the bizzare ones who end up with a douchebag for a boyfrriend and who then manage to stay with him for a long while, putting up with much shit and heartache, only to find out the good guy was behind them all the time, less obvious, but a better match...a silver medal.

The bronze medal is a "better than nothing" case, and it it fairly noticeable when you see a mismatched pair, an odd couple, a dwarf with a 7 footer, a skeleton with a blimp, or just a pair of uglies. In that last case, you really have to say "well, it's the best they both could do" but since beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and self-esteem builds pride, even bronze medals are silver inside...

Then the gold is too proud of itself, for it knows what he's worth. And an ego is hard to pop and infiltrate in order to commit human contact. Usually, a truly beatiful person will be well-kept, but not overdone, or else it'll stink fakeness ten miles around. Most girls think they're gold, but just compensate their lack of personality by wearing too much makeup, or revealing/slutty clothes that draw away attention to their outer selves. And when they catch you staring at their tits, they're upset...

Maybe it's just me...maybe I smoke and drink too much to understand that strange, yet compatible creature...maybe it's best not to think about it and just pretend like they're objects...just like in the old days...

I'm about to crack my own skull with the nearest availible blunt instrument...

The search for inspirado was long and completely pointless, so I still don't know what to write about...

At first, I thought I'd get stoned, then all the ideas would come rushing out of my brain like a fountain of negative energy, but instead I realized that the only two things that could occupy my brain while it's under the influence of THC were my guitar and my cock...

Perhaps, I had to go back to the well, so I started listening to old CDs, not necessairly old music, but stuff I was really into some years ago, like early Manson, Soundgarden, Rage Against the Machine, nineties Skater-Punk and even classical...but that did nothing except resurface painful and not-so-painful-but-better-left-behind memories that really needn't be written down, much less be read by anyone...

Then, I sat on my couch and watched classic movies, films I love and almost know by heart like Pulp Fiction, Evil Dead 2, Airheads, Ghostbusters, and, yes, Annie (what can I say, that goddamn redhead just does it for me) but I realized that spending 6-8 hours a day in front of a TV screen is the last thing someone should do to feel inspired again...

...So I read. I read a few novels, re-read some of my philosophy books, checked out all that was happening all over the world by getting information from this global newspaper that's called the Web, and still, I felt detached from it all, not knowing what to make of it...

...so I had to take it to the extremes...I recieved my brand new credit card, which makes me a real person by modern standards, because I can spend beyond what I earn, and I spent...bought movies, records, porn, booze, a latex vagina I'm still waiting for(commonly refferred to as a "pocket pussy"), a huge bong, a new pair of shoes (which made me feel all girly...like anyone needs to have 2 pairs of shoes?), and a few expensive meals I wouldn't have had if the card hadn't paid for them...as a result, when the bill comes in, I'll know the true meaning of the expression "go for broke"...and still, all these material distractions didn't help me feel good enough to write anything worthy...

...now, I'm stressing over this because I haven't written a new song in almost six months, I hadn't done a blog in a long while, and overall, I found all the efforts I made to write something good only made it worse...

Then my birthday came by, and I partied quite a bit...the day after, because I had to work on my birthday, so I could have the next day off 'cause the band and I were playing a 20 minute show for which we had to prepare a month and a half in advance...after playing outdoors, in the rain, in front of fifteen people who were there to see the other bands, we all went back to the Bil and, as usual, I drank Red Amber Ale until I couldn't see straight anymore...then a few shots, and a couple more beers at a friend's house...only to wake up with a slight headache the next morning, along with the desire to take it easy on my liver for the rest of the weekend...honestly, I think it was the first time in ten years where I didn't puke like a madman on my birthday, and it somehow felt wrong...

...so, I'm getting old, perhaps wiser, prudent with my drinking habits and I haven't done chemical drugs for at least a year and a half...at a turning point in my life, finished one level of school aiming at the next, not knowing when or where I'll end up going, let alone what the fuck I'm gonna do when I get there...I'm changing my routine factory work in order to get a juicier paycheck in another factory, I'm losing touch with some friends who're going away, some who've already gone, some who can't stand others so I can't see these two people in the same time anymore...the crowd at the Bil is changing every new Cegep year that begins and I'm officially ten years older than these people, so I'm forced to sit at the bar with the old-timers like myself...hoping never to be like them, while knowing for a fact that we're all the same kind...

I got into a solid argument with my drummer, J-Fuzz, and it's been gong on for at least 3 weeks...every time we see each other, it falls back on the subject and we argue over it endlessly, knowing damn well none of us will ever back down because we're both passionate about the art of debate and will never shut up until proven and admitted right...The source of this anger? The Beatles...he thinks they're Golden Gods without whom all music would cease to exist if they wouldn't have had such a tremendous 7 year carreer, I say they're overrated hippies who were lucky enough to become the Backstreet Boys of the sixties under a great producer...now, don't get me wrong, I love the Beatles, and I enjoy their songs quite a bit, but most of their lyrics are weak pop-bubblegum stuff...hire the London Symphony Orchestra if you will, make musical arrangements for 118 instruments, point is when all you say in your song is "I wanna hold your hand" or "Hello, Goodbye", there's no deeper second meaning to the words, no matter how you twist them...besides, I like the Stones better...

What does "Sussudio" mean anyways?

Anyways, I should take a cue from the Beatles and write anything, as long as it rhymes, or perhaps go mid-way, write anything that rhymes, as long as it makes sense...but I'd rather stop thinking about it...

"Great words come from the heart, never the brain"

- Robert Zimmermann (a.k.a. Bob Dylan)

It's been a while since I haven't been able to write anything...I had too much running in my mind, with a new guitar to cherish, working full-time without a sense of social life outside my band and bar crowd on weekends, staying home by day to sleep and by night to read or watch flicks. I am an ermit. Oraganizing thoughts is a tedious task one can't really do without an outside perspective, which is another thing I can't rely on (or wish I didn't have to rely on, whichever's the case)...Unfortunately, I have a tendency to find a solution for everybody else's, if not the entire world's, problems and worries, but when it comes to my own, I am the most incompetent shrink on the face of this Earth...

Nevertheless, this is Blog no.60 for me, and with an even number comes a more focused (and, to some, boring) style of writing...

Getting money out of an addiction for money... 

We unfortunately live in a capitalist world where what you can afford represents who you are. But it doesn't stop there, because different people love different things. Passion for an immaterial thrill that only comes packaged, purchased and owned before you can actually indulge in the activity of your choice. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but when "the industry" decides that some of these goods are affected by inflation and technology, they make the afficionnados angry, but obliged to cope with the way things become, because, like it or not, they run your wallet. Let me demonstrate:

- The automotive industry: People love their car, some more than others. Then, a few years ago, The Fast and the Furious depicted a phenomenon that's been called tuning, paying obscene sums of cash to better a car on various levels; aestethic, performance, sound, but mostly because you want your car to look unique. I personnaly don't give a shit about the way a car looks, as long as the driver's nice enough to give me a lift if I need it, but now these people have been complaining about gas prices. The electric cars, the Hydrogen engine, and even Hybrid cars are a good way to save on gas, but for the moment they're either unaffordable or, better yet, out of stock. It's been controlled by the car industry, bought by the oil companies who still need money, and delivered as a lack of advancement to the oblivious public. I saw something about Paul Newman who took an old Chrysler and had it Eco-modified for about 100 000$, but who else has got that kind of money but an actor turned racecar driver and salad dressing spokesperson? So, while the wealthiest have access to better things, the regular Joes still drive their old rusty Neons to work, stuck in traffic jams, helping all major cities in America develop a great big smog...and the actors on TV tell the people about being eco-friendly, about helping humanitary causes, about this or that noble thing they did...why not help the middle-class working men instead?

- The entertainment industry: This is funny and, as a matter of fact, it concerns me a little more. Ten or so years ago, I started switching all my VHS movies for DVDs. now, with the Blu-ray disc, I'm not about to get in their wagon and spend my hard earned money to trade a film on a disc for the same film on another and more expensive disc. What kind of dumb morons really see the difference? To the naked eye and ear, unless your TV is a 72" wide plasma screen and your sound system spits out 500 watts of ultra-surround-THX-Dolby Digital 6.1 ambiance, you won't see a difference. And I think that's why music CDs haven't been replaced, and are there to stay...or are they?

The recording industry has been trying to limit downloading, calling it a crime, for a while, and now that they are aware about the loss of their fight, they're bailing out on artists. We, real music fans, like to have our music on a fresh new record, unwrap it, read the liner notes, check out the entire booklet, read the lyrics, but most and foremost, take out the disc for the first time, when the plastic grip is still a bit tough. Point is, no real music fan wishes that cds would dissapear, even if most download the songs anyways, there's a certain collector's pride that comes to mind.

....but what happens in Joe anybody's mind? Eventually, you're going to think: "Hey, wait a minute, my neighbour's got greener grass, and he looks happier, so what does he have that I don't?" Maybe I should get a Prius and one of them blu-ray players... 

If I have learned something from 1984, it's that there are three types of people: the top cats, who call the shots, the middle men, who work in favor of the bigger picture, and the drones, who simply exist in a world of nonsense, trying to figure out a part of it. Now, all these people are economical agents in their own right, the big ones always getting the main benefits, the middle men who get shares (in money and pride) and the drones, who get the crumbs when everyone else's had their share. Now, because the drones have nothing, they're concerned about nothing as well. That's why their focus in conversation will often stay on light subjects like sports and entertainment, rechewing the so-called information they heard or faked to read in the media. Since their opinion doesn't really matter, it's often misguided and as sturdy as a leaf in the wind. Next, your middlemen handle politics and economy, pretending to know a helluvalot more than anyone else to predict what could happen, always falling under the blade of the big guys who know what can happen BECAUSE THEY MADE IT HAPPEN!!!

...and one day, you wake up and think: Well, if there's no escape, I might as well make the best out of my situation and not care too much for the world outside my immediate circle...me, myself and I...the you say: I'm gonna get me some luxury, something that I will enjoy, something that'll piss off the neighbours...and just when you think you could escape, you're still inside the endless storm...

Then, you turn on the TV and see any award show, where they rub their bellies saying: look how good we did. Not the artist, not the fans who helped them get known, not the mom that helped sew old blue jeans for a show, and certainly not the fans who went to the concerts, but the industry who made a splash with their efficient marketting campaign, molding the weakest minds into following trends that change every two months....and you're going to watch the whole goddamn 4 hours of awards thinking: I'd sure like to get on that stage...

Money is a sin. We are, by nature, sinners. We are natural predators who only feel threatened by the surroundings we live in, quite large surroundings if you limit yourself to land. For most of us, it represents America as a whole, but lest we forget that, even if Canada and USA are rich countries, central and South America are divided by war and poverty...than again, it's too far to matter to me...

I'd like to offer something about the seven deadly sins that Christianity has condemned, so here's an excerpt from the Satanic Bible...

THE seven deadly sins of the Christian Church are: greed, pride, envy, anger, gluttony, lust, and sloth. Satanism advocates indulging in each of these "sins" as they all lead to physical, mental, or emotional gratification.

A Satanist knows there is nothing wrong with being greedy, as it only means that he wants more than he already has. Envy means to look with favor upon the possessions of others, and to be desirous of obtaining similar things for oneself. Envy and greed are the motivating forces of ambition - and without ambition, very little of any importance would be accomplished.

Gluttony is simply eating more than you need to keep yourself alive. When you have overeaten to the point of obesity, another sin - pride - will motivate you to regain an appearance that will renew your self-respect.

Anyone who buys an article of clothing for a purpose other than covering his body and protecting it from the elements is guilty of pride. Satanists often encounter scoffers who maintain that labels are not necessary. It must be pointed out to these destroyers of labels that one or many articles they themselves are wearing are not wearing are not necessary to keep them warm. There is not a person on this earth who is completely devoid of ornamentation. The Satanist points out that any ornamentation of the scoffer's body shows that he, too, is guilty of pride. Regardless of how verbose the cynic may be in his intellectual description of how free he is, he is still wearing the elements of pride.

Being reluctant to get up in the morning is to be guilty of sloth, and if you lie in bed long enough you may find yourself commiting yet another sin - lust. To have the faintest stirring of sexual desire is to be guilty of lust. In order to insure the propagation of humanity, nature made lust the second most powerful instinct, the first being self-preservation. Realizing this, the Christian Church made fornication the "Original Sin". In this way they made sure no one would escape sin. Your very state of being is as a result of sin - the Original sin!

The strongest instinct in every living thing is self-preservation, which brings us to the last of the seven deadly sins - anger. Is it not our instinct for self-preservation that is aroused when someone harms us, when we become angry enough to protect ourselves from further attack? A Satanist practices the motto, "If a man smite thee on one cheek, smash him on the other!" Let no wrong go unredressed. Be as a lion in the path - be dangerous even in defeat!

Since man's natural instincts lead him to sin, all men are sinners; and all sinners go to hell. If everyone goes to hell, then you will meet all your friends there. Heaven must be populated with some rather strange creatures if all they lived for was to go to a place where they can strum harps for eternity.

"Times have changed. Religious leaders no longer preach that all our natural actions are sinful. We no longer think sex is dirty - or that taking pride in ourselves is shameful - or that wanting something someone else has is vicious." Of course not, times have changed! "If you want proof of this, just look at how liberal churches have become. Why, they're practicing all the things that you preach."

Let us sin until we die, if it's the only decent thing to do, but never be ashamed by what our desires demand us...

- Best friends with a girl? Can it happen? NO...unless there is no physical attration whatsoever, it is impossible for a straight man to befriend a woman and have a close friendship/partnership, especially if he's got a girlfriend. Now, I'm stuck with a situation with a girl who used to go out with a guy I used to hang out with. And she says things like: Ah, I appreciate your friendship, you're sure going to make a girl happy someday. Why not you? why not today?ah, I guess I'll just stick with porn, at least it doesn't ask any questions...

..and now, I'm going to take a long summer break because I have better things to do than to write for numerous hours in front of a computer, complaining about this and that, and if I write, it might be more for the band than for myself...and I can do it on a sheet of paper, sitting in the shade of a tree on a hot summer night...

'later... 

Here's why you should never put too much faith on luck...I used to have a black cat I had named Zombie...my mom had him killed because he bit everyone buut me, but otherwise he was a brilliant pet; he headbanged when I played music and he followed the rythm...I don't remember braeking mirrors, but I figure I had my fair share of bad luck over the years, regardless...

...but here's what happened to me, from the morning of the twelfth to the moment I write this blog...and here's a nice song to go along with it...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBEkolNNfJc

PM 12:45: I wake, jump in the shower, empty my mailbox (where I find Videodrome, a David Cronenberg movie starring James Woods and Blondie I had ordered not too long ago, whose payment hadn't cleared yet on eBay) and take the bus to Mtl at 1:50 with 13 joints in my suglasses case and a ticket for section 118, row C, seat 13...I get there around 3:30

3:37: A homeless bums me a smoke and starts telling me that I'm an infant of the Lord. I wish him the best of luck and silently curse him with a cancer stick, hoping that smoking will put him out of his misery sooner than later...

3:42: I stop by a drugstore to purchase condoms. A nineteen year old cashier makes a crack about "some lucky girl having a busy night" and I blush like a 15 year old who counts on an older woman to tell him how to put the damn rubber on...

3:50: I meet Alan at the Park on Peel street, smoke a joint and a cigarette under a tree and head for The Keg Steakhouse

4:00: The coked-up "not supposed to work today after a rough night" receptionist at the entrance of the restaurant informs us that they don't serve food until five. Alan and I get stuck in the revolving door and the black-eyed girl laughs at us while Alan and I joke about her boyfriend showing her who's the boss by pushing her down a four storey window and into a trash container that also serves as a house for a couple of smack addicts who let syringues lying around...

4:15: We head for the McLean's pub and wait upon a fat cow of a waitress who probably didn't even wash her hands after taking a gastronomic dump. We wait forever for our beers, our meals, our check and a simple smile from that out-of-luck-needs-so-badly-to-get-laid-that-even-Santa-Claus-can't-provide-a-cumshot-big-enough-to-quench-her-thirst-overweight-should've-stayed-home-and-dined-on-Valium-and-Vodka waitress...we leave a 3$ tip...total...

5:45: We go back to the park and wait for Tatanka and Crumbs, who were supposed to meet us for a spliff and a beer. They never show up and we head for the Bell Center

7:01: We still are waiting for Tonto (because we have his ticket) and we're getting impatient, as Alan's got a bladder the size of a nickel and the scalpers around us are selling tickets below cost.

7:27: As the show is scheduled to start at 7:30, I hear a scalper who needs a single ticket. He offers me 20$ for it, then, sells it for 50$ right in my face and there's nothing me, Alan or the short stalky baldie who snags the ticket from right under our noses can do about it. The slimy motherfucking scalper waves us goodbye as he just made 30$ off of a clueless indian, a short-fused finance student and a freaky-but-stoned Devil's Blogger who remembers another time when he saw a scalper rip off one of his friends...but at least, that time, the friend was there to be insulted...

9:45: I have to run to the bathroom while Alex Lifeson is playing the 12-string instrumental "Hope". I get caught up in the merch line, only to pick my second choice for a 30$ T-Shirt. I miss the intro to "Spirit of Radio" while I'm loooking for my seat (and Alan) in the dark. I'm feeling kinda good because the proceeds of the merch go to support the Museum of Human Rights, and because, after all, the shirt looks awesome on me...

11:20: We get out of the Bell Center just in time, no  more than a minute after the last song of the 40 minute encore. For the fourth time, Alan and I agree that Rush is the best rock band in Canada, the most well-balanced power trio ever, a group that gives a live show like no other and the main reason why we should kill Celine Dion and put them as the main musical ambassadors for our country...

11:40: I order a 9$ pitcher at Café Chaos and share it 70-30 with a guy who has to drive and who admittedly has a lower tolerance to alcohol than myself.

AM 12:10: We smoke a cigarette outside and I ask an April 08 quarter whether I should stay or go. Tails decides that I should get back inside and order another pitcher. 

12:50: After going through half of my pitcher, I get out to smoke a cigarette and get hassled by a guy who wants money. I offer him and his friend to share a joint instead and chat with them, talking nonsense as the alcohol and THC create a deadly cocktail inside my body.

1:30: I empty the pitcher, talking about the Rush concert to a couple of guys from UQAM and wave the 4 of them goodnight, as I shake hands with only two of the imaginary twins...

1:50: I order a 10-nugget meal at McDonald's, eat four of them and throw the rest away, keeping the flat Coke to wash my throat as I'm pretty certain of what will happen next...

2:30: I start puking all over my shoes in the Park near Berri station. I put on my hooded sweatshirt not to die of hyperthermia-or is it hypothermia? nevermind...Cold sweat runs down my back, down my armpits, down my forehead and under my hat, and I begin to think I shouldn't have drink that fast...

4:00: I get to a Couche-Tard to grab a large Moka and a pack of gum. The insolent clerk wishes me goodnight with a punchable grin that says: I can tell that you've had better nights...

6:05: After a quiet ride in the metro, I grab a Sausage McMuffin meal with an apple juice to try and set my stomach straight. I end up having painful heartburn for the remainder of the bus ride home.

7:40: The bus driver wakes me up to inform me that this is the last stop. I walk home when I should've jumped off three stops earlier and my pillows welcome me in a misericordious way...

PM 3:20: I wake and damn my alarm that didn't wake me up an hour and twenty minutes ago. I jump in a mercyful shower, get dressed, pack up my guitar and leave.

4:05: I get hold of the latest John5 record, called Requiem, and run into an old friend at the store. I don't have time to chat with him because I'm already late. Getting out of the store, a girl waves me hello from her bike and I stare at her, still comatosed from the night before, realising only too late that it's my friend's sister and that i'm taking her to her high school prom next week.

5:30-9:00: I unerperform songs from my repertoire at an improv show and the audience is mildly amused by me.

10:35: I smoke a spliff on my couch while waiting for my food to be delivered. I eat, smoke a fag, jerk off and get to work.

AM 9:00: I get to sleep listening to my John5 record and wish tonight is going to go more smoothly...

PM 6:30: I decide to go eat at Subway and the skinny homo who prepares my sub packs it with more vegetables than it takes to make a gallon of V-8, but fails to give me napkins.

...and now, it's ten o'clock and I'm still writing this...

Bad news...like anyone would care for good ones..

- Obscene gas prices: Last summer, the liter of gas in QC detailed for about 1.20$ and people were outraged. A year later, it reached 1.50$ and people are even more insulted, but still use their car in the same selfish way...single minivan drivers, people who let their motor on while they eat a whole meal in their car, dumbasses who take their Hummer to get milk at the convenient store two blocks away...you think a car is expensive to run? Buy a horse and try caring for it...

- Parking lots: A friend of mine wrote about people who ignore the lines in the parking lots, careless douchebags who think an empty lot is the ideal place to go wild and screech their tires, dreaming of stopping short in front of a pregnant woman who's carrying twins in a grocery cart full of kittens...(no, that's a bit too cute, but you get the point...) my friend almost got ran into twice as he was going to the bank, by a couple of dumb kids who like to speed up when it isn't appropriate...I've had the same kind of luck while trying to pass on foot and rollerblading...there's a nice spot for the police to put cameras and send anonymous fines, not on the highway...

- VHS: Does anyone still buy videocassettes? I was looking for Stevie Ray Vaughan's Live in Austin on eBay and I mistakenly bid on a VHS version (I cancelled the transaction shortly after)... I mean, the guy would probably cause less harm to the world by burning his tapes instead of trying to get rid of them as 3$ each...

- All you can eat: Now, there's a concept for stoners who get bad caes of munchies...not so much for already overweight people who only use the excuse of variety to "taste a little bit of everything"...but in order to get your money's worth, I've calculated a healthy way to ration the food: One soup, a big salad, two full plates, a small piece of cake, a small tasteless bowl of Jell-O, a bowl of fruit salad and ice cream...and if you're still hungry after that, fill up on bread, for crying out loud...

- Hockey Night in Canada: CBC lost the rights to a theme song they've been using for so long that it's commonly reffered to as "our second National Anthem". CTV (and their affiliates, including TSN and RDS whose entire programming is about sports) bought the song forever, and now CBC are holding a contest to choose a new song...I have a suggestion: Why not take an already existing song by some popular Canadian artist...such as "We're gonna win" by Bryan Adams or any song by Rush...Keep it Canadian...

- Attack of the chicken-shit infected Killer Tomatoes: Apparently, some tomatoes from the U.S. got infected by a virus that's commonly associated with poultry, salmonella, causing the major chains to remove tomatoes from their menu for an indeterminate period. I don't know for the rest of you, but I rather like tomatoes in a hamburger or some kind of sandwich...and, since the problem is only coming from the South-of-the-border fruit/vegetable/who gives a rat's ass which one it is as long as it's red and juicy, I find it rather stupid that restaurants didn't think of offering Canadian grown tomatoes to their costumers for, I don't know, an extra 50 cents, since they cost more...I guess these big corporations care more about profit than encouraging local economy...

...and that's all for this week...now, I really need a beer...and not to get as drunk as last time, so I can maybe try and use those damn condoms...do you think I can make a giraffe out of the lubricated balloons? If I manage that, I know an elementary school that's gonna be terrorized on Monday...

flip me off, so I have enough juice for next week....

My mom's turning 50 today... I wonder...what will I be like at 50? With the kind of life I lead, I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't reach 50, but let's suppose I do...I don't know...maybe I'll have kids, maybe I'll have a life partner, maybe I'll be working in a domain that makes me proud, maybe I'll be on an iron lung, waiting for my newly-bought synthetic lungs to replace those I am currently destroying, maybe I'll be in jail for my opinions, maybe I'll be traveling around the world...it's hard to figure what we'll be five years from now, so trying to imagine what we'll be like at the edge of retirement is even a wilder guess...I asked my mom what she thought she was going to be like today, 25 years ago, and she awnsered that she had already settled in a rather comfortable routine at that age, one that looks about the same as what she does now...and I thought, what if my ambitions would stop, what if I had no dreams, and I coped with a situation that's only satisfying to me...and what if I woke up spending my long and speechless evenings in front of the TV...leaders and followers...I guess I like my individuality too much to accept the bare minimum...

13 CULT CLASSIC MOVIES (AND WHY THEY WERE HITS)

- The Rocky Horror Picture Show: At first, the musical was played onstage, but when the movie came out, it got to reach millions who embraced the talent of a perfect cast; Tim Curry as Dr. Frankenfurther especially. Now, the plot is not that complex, but it deals with homosexuality and jokes about horror movies in a very twisted way. Straight people who love it for its musical aspect only learned to appreciate the S&M fashion as a spoof on the gay community blended with the classic stroy of Frankenstein. And gays made it their own, using it for the spectacle. But most importantly, it's the only movie where you get to see Meat Loaf sing (and get killed) AND Susan Sarandon in an unusual dumb girl role that fits her perfectly...

- Grease: Like any musical that started on stage, the movie was way more ambitious, casting then-unknown John Travolta. Moreover, it came out in the seventies when, as always, the era's fashion standards were a readapted take on what went on twenty years before. Travolta's character is nothing but a lame Fonzie, but somehow, it works...but personnaly, I hate the songs, the plot and the acting in that film and I've only seen it one too many times...get me Cry-Baby instead, you know, back when Johnny Depp was employed by somebody else than Tim Burton...

- Star Wars: Here we go...Hardcore fans despise the newer trilogy, but the old ones are marvels of technology. Of course, the story is derived from Christian beliefs; the son that comes back in the picture to start a better world, the holy crusade that gets him there, the "evil" who controls the world and turns friends against one another for money. I can't defend it as a masterpiece, but then again, it's a fun seven hours to watch, by my standards...

- Star Trek: The other cult of Sci-Fi fans, the ones who think Star Wars is stupid, and I agree, in a small way. I mean, it's true that the story is rather thin in the Wookies, while Trekkies base their faith on a view of space travel that sems more logical, driven by science and veradically explainable. Hey, a guy I know got married in Klingon! Nothing against that, but not my cup of tea...

- Alien: This is a weird one, because none of the four movies were directed by the same guy (and I'm ignoring AVP, because that sucked sooooooooo fucking much...) but, the creatures, drawn by the crazy mind of H.R. Giger, were truly frightening...and if there had never been a third and fourth film, maybe we could've avoided to treat Alien fans as a bunch of retards...

- Pulp Fiction: How many quotes can you say, right fro  the top of your head? I mean, Tarantino's second movie was (and still is) one of, if not THE, best of the nineties because it allied different genres of film, featured an all-star cast who worked for pennies, and a perfect soundtrack. Period.

- Indiana Jones: Guys identify with Indy because he's a reckless explorer who seeks the truth and lives a bunch of crazy adventures in the name of a bigger fate than his own. He's the ultimate badass hero, more than Bond, because he doesn't need a thousand gadgets to succeed, just tongue-in-cheek humor and a whip...

- Scarface: First lesson when dealing cocaine: don't get high on your own stash. Pacino was amazing at telling the story of the american dream: working a little to get rich and on top...I could've mentionned the Godfather too, but it's a bit more complex explaining 3x3 hour movies than it is to tell about one good mobster film...

- The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: People always loved western movies, I don't know why, but I always felt like if I watched too much of these, I'd feel like chewing on sand and horseback riding to a bank heist...

- Some like it hot: Marilyn Monroe. Enough said.

- Nightmare before Christmas: Now, the popularity of this film came hard with the Emo kids, who allegedly grew up watching it. Just because they had a fixation on that particular film, it beacame fashionable and tasteless...but as an animation feature, it still was brillantly done...die, emo kids, and give real people back their movie...

- The Evil Dead: Bruce Campbell, a severed hand that's replaced by a chainsaw, zombies-a-plenty, cheezy humor, Sam Raimi, before he decided to go digital Spiderweb and Hollywood...

- The Wizard of Oz: Little girl gets lost, fights witches, meets friends who admit they have defects, gets to an Emerald castle after walking the long yeallow brick road, meets a wizard who tells her the awnsers she seeks is in her heart...a masterpiece, no, but a damn classic nevertheless...

 ...you know, that was kinda pointless...sorry for wasting your time (and mostly mine)...

IF I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS, I'D BUY ME ANOTHER MILLION...

- Nudity on camera: At the risk of being called a pervert (which I am) I'd like to complain about the industry's overly paranoid way of hiding frontal nudity (even in R-rated films)...Sometimes, for instance, there'll be a shower scene or a love scene and the camera will always be at the right spot to avoid showing a nipple. And if they dare show thighs, it's inevitably gonna lead to a thick and disgusting eighties bush (apparently, only 1/3 of girls in porn are fully shaven, the rest of the world still weras a pubis toupee)...I can understand that some actresses would not be comfortable showing their naked body in front of a camera, but they should think of that when they read the fucking script...

- Racing activities: Men are dumb, so they need speed limits on the road so they behave properly. Actually, they need to know that, if they break the law, there can be dire consequences. Nobody takes anything seriously until it costs something being caught doing wrong. So, when they created a "sport" where events were held on a closed circuit racing track and the goal was to race against one another to find out whose car works the best, they went ballistic. Yet, how many fatal accidents happen at high velocity...but what a rush it must be to die knowing that you've oversped a bunch of douchebags who didn't have a car as good as yours...

- Hockey's over: ...And it was about time...shit, it's summer and the ice has long been melted...and I lost interest before the playoffs even started...

- The axis of evil (Taco Bell/ KFC/ Pizza Hut): I'm not a big fan of pizza, and I never went to a Taco Bell because there are none that I know of in Quebec. But I find it hard to believe that you can pack so much stuff in a flat bread and not get sick, at least from what I've seen in the adds...Pizza Hut is even worse because they perfected a way to cram more fat into the pie by stuffing the crust or transforming into breadsticks...and KFC, every time I go there (once or twice a year) I swear that it's gonna be the last...I get bad heartburn and bellyache, I shit ten bricks for a couple of days and I still can't say that it tastes like chicken should...

- Toxic Avenger Box Set: I thought that I made an awesome deal, buying the Complete Toxie on eBay for a price of 45$; a 7 DVD set that includes all four Toxic Avenger movies and the whole saturday morning cartoon called "Toxic Crusaders", a 13-episode run, and a shitload of extra features (the interviews are somewhat entertaining, but I wouldn't hold my breath for the rest)...well, I began by watching the animated series only to recall how lame it was...at best, the drawings are somewhere between the first Ninja Turtles and Cadillacs n' Dinosaurs, but the plot...awful...lesson is, you can't do a kids show out of a horror movie, no matter how ridiculous your film is...next, I watched all the movies , only to remember how bad the second one was, I saw the third one for the first and, most likely, last time because it's only slightly better than Part II...then, Part IV (which director Lloyd Kaufman says to be the only real sequel, apologizing for the preceeding two...) is a nice effort, but still never came close to the original...so, don't waste your money, get the first one and save numerous depressing hours and at least 20$...

- Woodstock en Beauce and other summer activities: Few Quebecers are pretentious enough to call a festival by the name of Woodstock but, don't be fooled and look at the bill; it features a great number of tribute bands, a few "underground" bands and, of course, a headline comprised by has-beens (this year, they have Dennis DeYoung of Styx and Filter, a good band that never hit big enough)...but there are other notable festivals that just dropped the towel this summer...Ozzfest is only held for one day in Dallas and features Metallica (whose new record has yet to impress us) and Ozzy, plus an assortment of ordinary opening bands (including the new solo projects of Korn's Jon davis, System of a Down's Serj Tankian, Sepultura's Cavalera Bros. and Pantera's Vinnie Paul ...Lollapalooza is a 3-day event held in Chicago, featuring Radiohead, Rage against the Machine, NIN and another 20 bands or so, but Chicago is too far for me to travel, unfortunately...Vans Warped tour features a shotload of Ne0-Em0-core, punk-core, hardcore, noise-core and emoc0re bands whose carreers will last as long as the fashion they embrace... and then, there's Heavy MTL, a two-day event that was speculated for months, only to feature a few good bands surrounded by Metal-crust-core-death-epic-power-Thrash bands nobody really cares about (except those dickheads who give metal a bad name by getting drunk and beating people up)...but I'd still go for Maiden...

- Guitar Hero (again!): Aerosmith sold out, and apparently Metallica followed...yes, it's official, they're selling special expansions of the game that feature a ton of songs from one artist...artist? If these guys really cared about the music, they'd let people learn how to play the songs for real instead of giving them bars on a stupid game with a plastic guitar that weighs the same as a controller...learn guitar, kids, not guitar hero...

- "I'm buying shots!" rhymes with "Sick drunken sluts!": A simple explanation; guys usually drink beer in bars, therefore, their stomach is reinforced by barley, and they can handle a few shots...Girls usually drink cute cocktails that already contain hard liquor in smaller amounts, therefore, it is almost inevitable that if you have a few rounds of shots, someone will get sick, and most likely be sick and intolerable...

- Beer inc.: Okay, here's a little story about a brewery that's located in Chambly, QC...They were popular for years while staying independant, but then the greed got them and they merged with Sleeman in Ontario, for distribution purposes...that's when they lost the right to sell their beer in clear bottled, not to copy Sleeman...Then, Sleeman got purchased by Molson and, Molson merged with Coors, then Molson-Coors became Molson-Coors Sapporo...and the small bottle of beer that used to be so gently different, so particular compared to the commercial stuff, became flavourless and ordinary...

- Bo Diddley: A great guitar player passed away this week, a guy whose very name he gave to a picking technique used by millions of guitar players worldwide, even if most never heard a song by the man...just like Les Paul, whose name is also the best-selling model made by Gibson, people like what they hear, but ignore who did it...

- Lindsay Lohan's dating a chick!: And who gives a shit, beside paparazzis...good for her...lick cunt, you filthy ugly whore...damn, she's so fucking disgusting that I'd like to fuck her just so I can compare myself with Viet-Nam war vets who raped prostitutes while rolling in a landmine field...

- Waterproofed Band-Aid: I use an exacto knife at work and, once in a while, I'm bound to cut myself on a finger...and no fucking adhesive strip is strong enough to withold wetness, so after washing your hands, you always have to put on another one because the one you have is not only unglued but, if it's made out of fabric, it's wet and disgusting...Best-selling brand since the 20's and, still not competent enough to make a water resistant strip...dumbfucks...

- A Motörhead feature film?!?!?: http://www.lemmymovie.com/

Finally, a Metal GOD has a documentary that shocases him as we all learned to love him; rude and crude, louder than everyone else...I can't wait to see it...

...and alas, a little recognition...thanks to the people who read me and comment on a regular basis (MC Carolito, Smumdax, and a few more)

...for the rest of you, leave  amessage after the tone...

...and whatever you do, keep in mind the wise words of Frank Zappa: "Watch out where the Huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow"...

...right, it's summer...no more snow, only T&A walking by...something I can't seeem to get my hands upon...