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It figures that the day I pick to have a hangover is the day everyone else will pick to mow their lawns (including the one five feet from my bedroom window, while I am sleeping) and MOVE INTO THE APARTMENT RIGHT ABOVE MINE (including bumping into my balcony with their truck (!); and having a big old French redneck party on the sidewalk in front of the building -- which translates to right in front of my living room window, since I live on the first floor -- complete with all their furniture and beer and pizza. Like, could you have not done this inside the apartment after you finished moving? God, I hate the St-Jean so much.
When I was little we always went camping in Vermont on the weekend of the St-Jean. I wish I was little, today.
Yesterday was great, though. John K. Samson and Christine Fellows played at Casa del Popolo and it was like Friday came early.
Also: An Open Letter to the Kansas Board of Education Let us remember that there are multiple theories of Intelligent Design. I and many others around the world are of the strong belief that the universe was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster. It was He who created all that we see and all that we feel. We feel strongly that the overwhelming scientific evidence pointing towards evolutionary processes is nothing but a coincidence, put in place by Him.
thabto!
"If she makes it, she should be a perfectly normal and healthy cat. Other than having two faces." Riiiight. Except that. Just when I think I'm about as freaked out as I'm gonna get. (There's a picture.)
i give up.
This week has been like a comedy of errors. I tried to go see no less than 5 shows at the Fringe Festival and was thwarted EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. It was like a big cosmic joke.
Then today I was supposed to go to Ottawa to protest the stalling of the equal marriage bill -- because SERIOUSLY, just put it to a vote already so I can stop worrying about the dissolution of the government -- and I was super psyched because there were all these great things planned, but first my protest buddy cancelled, then my ride cancelled. That's just the kind of week it's been around here.
can fish smell gas? no? fuck it.
I missed my stop on the bus today because I was busy thinking about what a dumb name Anouk Reniere-Lafreniere is. Wouldn't Lafreniere have covered it? I think French people overdo it with the hyphenating sometimes. I mean, why didn't they just go all the way and name her Anouk-Lafanouk?
I just did my French and English entrance exams, and get this: I found the English one much harder. The topic for both was natural gas. What the FUCK do I know about natural gas? Answer: nothing. Is this supposed to be a general knowledge category? Because they are way off base there.
The first part of each exam was an article about the dangers of natural gas with a bunch of words blanked out that you had to fill in. The French one was not too bad because the missing words were mostly prepositions, so that's pretty obvious, but for the English one they were mostly nouns and verbs! I had no idea, so I was just making shit up. Like, "If the gas [blank] in the water at [blank] the fish can [blank] it, but if not it [blank] into their [blank] and stops their [blank] from [blank]."
Then we had to write an essay in each language about our opinion of natural gas. My essay basically went, "Use solar power instead, duh." I quit about half way because, honestly. I couldn't bring myself to care. Should my ability to write a cogent essay about NATURAL FUCKING GAS be the entire measurement of language skills? This seems really poorly thought out. Or maybe I am too dumb to go back to school.
I don't mind if I have to take a make-up French class, but I hope I don't fail the English section. That would be embarassing.
talk about the weather or how the weather used to be
Isn't it amazing how when I moved to Montreal six years ago, smog warnings were an extremely rare occurence? It's not even officially summer yet and it already seems like this year it's rare to have a day without extreme heat, humidity and smog. Driving over the Champlain Bridge yesterday was like driving into a surreal dream: the whole island was envelopped in a thick haze like I have never seen before, and you could just barely see the outlines of the buildings.
I had a fantastic weekend out in the country with my friends and family; even though it was still hot there, especially in the church where the David Francey concert was held, and even at the bar afterwards, it was it was a million times more bearable than Grand Fucking Prix weekend in Mtl.
At least my office is air conditioned so I have some incentive to get up in the morning.
Hilarious and random: Live Tetris. Aw, that poor funny-shaped piece never fits anywhere.
Also, Zombie Eat Brain, a blog written from the point of view of a zombie. I love how he has a link to Rosie O'Donnell listed under "Other Horror Blogs." "Brains.
Have you ever heard someone say that a baby is so cute and cuddly, it looks good enough to eat? But then they never do.
My point is, I would make a bad babysitter.
Braaaiiinnnsss..."
And from a link on that blog, brains4zombies.com, a clearinghouse for brains. It must be so much easier when you can just order the brains via internet, instead of having to fight with live people to let you eat their brains.
impersonator? admirer? performance artist? nutcase?
This morning, while I was waiting for the bus, (on a very quiet residential street, I might add, where there is a lot of cultural diversity, but not usually a lot of weirdness,) this old man walked past me wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt. In his picture on the t-shirt, the Che is wearing a black beret with a gold star and a green army jacket. The man wearing this t-shirt? Was wearing a black beret with a gold star and a combat-green jacket. And he was holding the jacket open, presumably to make sure everyone he passed could see his t-shirt, and then notice how he was copying the picture. Oh, and the (very old) man had a nice mane of black hair too (like el Che, natch,) but from the back I could see that his gray roots were growing out.
In other news, it appears that eating too many kiwis gave me bronchitis. Which is the reason for my recent, unannounced hiatus. I was not on vacation, as some of you thought. Or, to put it another way, I was on vacation on the Isle of Bronchitis. There is not much to blog about from that exotic island, which looks exactly like my couch, save mucus levels and frequency of coughing, the daily topic of the Dr. Phil show (shudder), and some fucked up drug-induced dreams. I am totally never eating kiwis again.
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"The mind of the thoroughly well informed [person] is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, and everything priced above its proper value."
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