Author: Allegra

I don’t get it. How does making a 4 storey high soldier out of Christmas lights help us get in the holly jolly mood? I mean it’s amazing, and actually almost aesthetically pleasing…. but. How does it support soldiers with inadequately armoured Humvees? I must be a complete Philistine, I don’t get it.

we aren’t going to TO

I do associate Christmas with family, and Leo and Linda are family, so here you go. I think this pic is adorable.

This is how you get around the ONE SALAD BOWL PER CUSTOMER rule at a salad bar. Note the vegetarian goodness of it all, never to mention the serious understanding of what comestibles possess the necessary strength (remember the famous four stresses – tension, torsion, compression and shear) to hold the load. As I have said MANY MANY times, it’s not the stupid customers you have to watch out for. It’s the clever ones with time on their hands…..A bowler bob to Brooke-who-recently-took-up-banjo for passing this one along.

After MANY MANY years of being a good girl, I am now a Buffy fan. One lousy DVD, and now I have 5 seasons to catch up on. Glen, you’re a freaking menace, did anybody ever tell you that?

Had dinner at Glen and Marilyn’s last night. DAMN that was good. The best part was the basement. Why? Because that’s where Marilyn hauled out the single most berloody amazing piece of fetish gear – which is not fetish but working gear, which makes it even MORE fetishy ifn you know what I mean – that has ever smote my eyeballs. It’s RIDING ARMOUR. Picture if you will parallelogram dense-foam lozenges all sewn together into a protective vest which covers in the front down to your noogies and in the back past your tailbone. NOW picture that it’s hunter green. NOW picture that if you wore a green body suit underneath and a bug mask, you would be wearing the most scary costume in history and IF you were motivated to outline the lozenges in both white and glow in the dark paint you’d be a scary sight indeed at the club. Marilyn, what do you want for it!!!??? I’m a craving it! Want picture!!! Ah shaddap, me.

Ah, there are so many pictures I COULD post, but sincere and calm reflection leads me away from that.

I don’t want to go to Toronto. I want to BE THERE. But I don’t want to travel there. Travelling on passes at Christmas is excruciating. Not having a real bed to sleep on when I get there is unpleasant to contemplate. Not having a vehicle is not really a problem, but the weather might be. The fact that Katie doesn’t want to go doesn’t help. And she has more than one good reason not to want to go, including ones that I can’t post here.

The fact that family vacations turn into an extended mix of the world’s ugliest domestic argument might have something to do with it. The fact that Paul, normally the soberest of men when it comes to expenditures, goes completely berserk during vacations (whether or not he buys shoes) might have something to do with it. The fact that I just don’t want to have to be completely emotionally dishonest for an entire berloody week might have something to do with it. (Don’t forget to keep that smile on your face). (That’s why I quit church…. why do I want to re-up in a different location?) The fact that I HATE FLYING has a lot to do with it. I’ve tried, since that little ol’ plane crash back in 1988, to overcome my complete panic stricken loathing of aircraft in all forms. I have even succeeded to the point that I don’t need happy pills or alcohol to get on a plane. But that means I like it? NOOOOOO! You’re in a pressurized flying bomb full of diseases and devoid of adequate space or nourishing food. The fact that it’s maintained by honest and intelligent people means squat to me. Is it rational? Compared to driving a car, or god forbid, riding a bicycle in this burg? NOOOOOO! Pay a shorter visit? I have a better idea. I’m going to stay home. I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want any demands made on me. I don’t see anybody lining up for the privilege of spoiling me, so I’m going to do it myself.

Off to Sin City last night; I was the only person in the joint wearing faux snakeskin so I felt quite pleased with myself. Got myself some proper boots to complete the outfit as really, flat shoes do *not* work in that environment. Had a bit of a time getting Paul in; unless he’s stark naked he looks pretty square, but I picked him up a rather extreme T-shirt at Fetwear. I think I’m going to buy him a black Utilikilt, they completely rock and there was at least one other guy wearing one; with the black tshirt I got him it would be a fetching get up indeed. I’m crazy for kilts. Paul says he’s going as an aviator the next time. (Hmph, he said there was going to be a next time.) A couple of tuxes, one with a full face mask; a latex Sailor Moon outfit, a lot of nice looking half naked women. I really enjoyed myself and what I enjoyed best was NO attitude.

Very young crowd, very hiply turned out. There’s a dungeon in the basement and stuff was happening, but I guess I just don’t have much in the way of being a voyeur… after about 5 minutes I got a big case of “these aren’t the droids you’re looking for” and went back upstairs. Very much liked the bar and the layout; we parked ourselves by the washrooms (which appeared to be somewhat unisex… go figure!) and so got to watch everybody on the top floor go by at least once and of course some more often than that. Did a little dancing, but had to bail after one very long tune because my feet were annoyed with me. If it wasn’t for the expense (it’s only 10 bucks to get in but assembling an outfit, especially like some of these folks, is a major expenditure) and the fact that not everybody gets off on loud Techno I’d recommend it to anyone. I think my favourite piece of clothing was a white bunny fur bolero that would not have covered the chest of a two year child. I think there’s a word skimpier than skimpy, but I can’t think of it right now…. A) it glowed under the blacklight B) the woman wearing it was a size zero but some people look really cool at that size and she was one one them and C) she looked happy!!! and so did her bf who was wearing an all white women’s stretch women’s outfit and a total glam rock makeup job. I loved them; they really looked cool and totally themselves. I think the individuation of everybody is what is so nice. Paul was particularly knocked out by a women in trad 16th century Japanese style makeup. Stunning woman, gorgeous costume, and drop dead makeup. People who affect the bored hipster look ick me out – she gave Paul a radiant smile when he complimented her on her get up.

Didn’t get home til 2. Bad girl.

Katie stayed at Janna’s last night – talked to her briefly this am. She’s close to Mike’s place, isn’t that convenient? Off to Mike’s to move the hot tub at 2pm. Looks like it will stay clear, thanks to a special mercy of Providence. Then off to eat something wonderful and Glen and Marilyn’s. And get kitten therapy, I hope. Kitten therapy is good too. I should do something about dessert, I am supposed to bring dessert. Mmmmm dessert.

American parents who don’t enjoy their children’s teen years have the option of sending them to Mexican fundamentalist boarding schools. There, concepts such as civil rights bow down cringing before the notion of parental authority. The problem with parental authority, she said sighing, is that the people who aren’t scared to exercise it don’t usually know what the hell they are doing.

I am glad I stayed peaceful during Katie’s last outburst. A soft answer turneth away wrath.

So instead of wondering where she was last night we all watched the first half of Dralion, the 2000 Cirque de Soleil production.

Victor Kee, the juggler, obviously learned a lot from Michael Moschen. Amazing work. Music not so great, although Stella Errans has some fabulous countertenor.

A very bizarre coincidence occurred to me this week. Unfortunately, I can’t share it with anybody, because it would involve betraying a confidence. Take my word for it, it’s very po mo and quite funny.

I’ve been meaning to post this for a while. This was when the US was supporting terror in the middle East. I mean, when Saddam was considered better than the alternative. When I said that Rumsfeld was shameless, I meant it. Mind you, I used to be a libertarian. And I used to read romance novels. I guess all things considered I have just as much to be ashamed of as anybody else.

2019 sez given that you’ve been writing destiel fic since 2017 you can just shut up now.

Frontpage

These are scientists talking about the climate in scientific terms.

Katie’s shoes are here and her door is closed, so I assume she is here. I wrote about a thousand words on this blog last night and bumped the keyboard and it all disappeared. Some of it was really funny. You’re just going to have to take my word for it. A hybrid Humvee? Weird things are going down, friends. Check Jalopnik.com for details.

Japan is threatening a huge dollar sell off if the US doesn’t do something about domestic interest rates. Japan lets its currency float against the dollar, which is nasty, because the Chinese renminbi doesn’t float – it’s pegged to the US dollar. So every time the yen strengthens the Japanese have less wiggle room in their two primary markets. The Japanese are also making it clear that they are talking to the Europeans about a coordinated approach to the dollar sell off. This means that not only does the Emperor not have any clothes, everybody knows he’s broke, too, but if everybody rushes in to try to grab 10 cents on the dollar everybody will end up with nothing. Obviously the Americans know this, which is why they are still smiling. However…. The Arab world has been throwing US dollars over the side since 9/11 but apparently it’s been even worse since November 2nd. I wish I could predict which dolt will start the run on the dollar.

Some think tank in California – the only one that predicted the 2001 recession – says that the housing bubble is about to collapse. Building industry spokesmen say, “Can’t collapse – don’t have oversupply”. I laugh in their faces. Once you have higher interest rates, there will be LOTS of oversupply, and that will happen the second the US has to prop up the dollar when the real rush begins. If I wasn’t going to be living on corn meal mush for the rest of my life, I might be entertained by the prospect.

Hear Rumsfeld got roasted by the troops yesterday or the day before. I don’t imagine it helps. After all, he was there shaking hands with Saddam Hussein in the 80’s; nothing abashes that guy.

The former lead guitarist of Pantera was shot dead last night. Heavy metal will kill you, don’t know the precise muzzle velocity.

Eels – Daisies of the Galaxy. This brilliant brilliant album doesn’t have a lame track on it. By turns delicate, kickass, elegiac and in your face, and with arrangements that completely clean the clock of most contemporary rock albums, it is a family fave.

Leonard Cohen – More Best of. Includes Suzanne, Hallelujah, Democracy is coming to the USA and Everybody Knows… and other greats.

Sheryl Crow’s Sheryl Crow. A wonderful singalong album.

Pukka Orchestra – Pukka Orchestra. Anybody who grew up in TO in the 80’s remembers CFNY playing about half a dozen tracks off this album. Apart from Flies there isn’t a lame track and Might as Well be on Mars is a complete classic. And there’s Cherry Beach Express….”52 Division, handcuffed to a chair, joining the lineup, to fall down the stairs…” wonderful album. Oh, and Listen to the Radio, another great great tune.

Steeleye Span – Below the Salt. I have no idea why we love this album so much, but I just get into a wonderful mood when I hear it. It burned up in the truck, lo these two years ago.

David Byrne’s selection of Brazilian tunes which I think is called Beleza Tropical. The first album, anyway. I wish somebody could give me a proper translation of some of the lyrics.

Dead Can Dance – A Passage in Time. Saltarello anyone?

Exchange – Into the Night. Okay, call us sappy for liking what is essentially movie background music, or maybe somewhat more highbrow elevator music, but this is a very soothing thing to have on.

Before some sumbitch stole it, we had Ry Cooder and Ali Farka Toure in Talking Timbuktu. That, friends, is a bloody amazing and wonderful album.

Chumbawama – Tubthumper. Nuff said.

There’s a few more, but you get the idea. It’s a pretty eclectic bunch of tunes we like.

John Hiatt – Walk on. Definitely very high on the ranking.

Bucketing bloody rain and windy. Lil Kate continues to spend half the evening talking on MSN to her non-boyfriend. As we approach the solstice my mood darkens.

Last night Paul pulled out a bunch of LP’s. We listened to Bonnie Raitt’s Give It Up (I had never heard it and frankly was stunned at its utter gorgeousness) and the Stones’ Sticky Fingers all the way through and listened to parts of Roxy Music’s Country Life. Man, Phil Manzanera is one of the best guitarists on the planet. I had scolded Paul the other night for always sitting passively in the living room while other people’s musical taste ruled the roost, so I think he, uh, what’s that phrase, announced his presence with authority. More tonight, I can hardly wait to see what else we’ll hear. And no scratches – he took good care of his LP’s. But holy wtf we need new speakers! Those Advents have frisked their last biscuit.

Remind me to list the albums all five of us can listen to, it’s a very funny list.

Okay, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep but at least I’m awake. Forgot to take my vitamins. Anyway.

Off to have coffee with my dear colleague Mo tonight, as it’s been ages since we had a good chinwag; he is a little more morally advanced than I as he doesn’t eat things with faces anymore.

I am almost to the point where I can start writing comedy again… writing sermons is incompatible with writing comedy, because I have to be in a respectful, consider the implications of what I’m saying kind of mood when I’m writing a sermon and I have to be disrespectful and considering the complete idiocy of the implications of what I’ve said when I’m writing comedy, so it’s quite a challenge to go back and forth. Hopefully that’s the last one I’ll have to write for a while.

Katie insisted that I put on my old albums last night, and AS USUAL I found myself singing along like the world’s largest Karaoke Moron and AS USUAL cursed at all the fluffs, errors, the completely rancid guitar sound and how I really SHOULD record all of them again. The stupid thing is that some of them are classics. I know that sounds really self absorbed, but Artificial Happiness is an amazing song. In three verses it traverses most of the moods and difficulties of having a depressive illness when you’re in a family situation; it does it with neatness and economy and a very good rhyme scheme, and the chorus is catchy. Erica’s Song is just a plain sappy love song, except that the lyrics are really good. And Some Words Before We’re Through, with the incredible pun (that nobody ever gets, that’s all David Dowker’s fault (go check http://members.rogers.com/alterra/content.htm if you’re interested in language poetry)) in the middle and the very puerile but somehow entertaining imitation of Bob Dylan’s songwriting style and the TRUE STORY in the second verse, in which a woman gives somebody all her money, which actually happened to a friend of mine when she was mentally ill, and the street musician she gave the money too had a baby and was about to be evicted, and then they met again in Vancouver, and then I got to meet him too, so the song and the story got to be in the same room, which was extremely cool. Trust me, it’s a good song, and then Paul told me it was too depressing and I should put a better ending on it, so I did, and it’s better. And then there’s I Guess I Never Felt This Way, which the kids helped me write when we were living in Montreal (that’s a funny sad story) and Bela Lugosi is the King Around Here, in which a bunch of people at a party all start telling stories; the first one is true and the rest get com-PLETE-ly out of control. And there’s beer and Plan 9 from Outer Space in it, how could it be better?

The only thing wrong with these songs is that they are basically archival. Only a very fond person would sit still for listening to them, even if they are good tunes; they all need arranging in the worst possible way, and now somebody’s forced me to listen to them again I’m now contemplating spending more money I don’t have to redo them. Pic is some random whatever off the drive.