Wednesday, May 31, 2006

And this is also cause I love Parker so much (and HATE Oprah)

Just for Scuzz (and because I love Parker so much that I am willing to forgive this)

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Today's horoscope and it had better be true!

Sagittarius November 23-December 21

If only all your days—and nights—could be like this: e-mails full of sweet nothings, poetic testimonials to your charms, and sexy squeals of pleasure from your lover’s touch. Or if he can’t make it, some sinewy queer with chiseled cheekbones, sensual lips, and a manroot that would have a sculptor groping for his pot of clay.

Monday, May 29, 2006

Gay Love

Nudey Naked Mondays

Epi this goes out to you.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Friday, May 26, 2006

You are my secrets on the front page every week

This is the continuation to yesterdays entry about Linda and my thinking I was in love with her.
I never told her that I had felt that way, and so she and I remained friends. However, she was a bit moody and took a little bit of getting used to. As I got to know her better I realized how strange her homelife was and it made me sympathetic and my homelife sucked.
So she and I were friends and we went to the movies together and did stuff like that. However she was a really mainstream kind of girl and I was not. Usually what would happen when we went to the movies was that we would make a double feature night of it and see one film that I would choose and another film she would choose. Usually we hated the film that the other chose, but what can you do about that?
But then she became very aggressive about us trying to date. She was always talking about it and asking me if I did not think that it was a good idea. Well, no, I did not think it was a good idea.
I had already come out to some people at this point, it was almost the end of grade 10 and my best friend knew about it and a teacher and my sister, but I was not really ready to start admitting it to everyone. However, Linda persisted that she and I should try being a couple.
Now there were a few other circumstances occurring at this time that made things more difficult. I was unsure as to wether or not I was "gay" or "bi". So I decided to try to sleep with a female friend to find out. I did not sleep with her (and that is an entry all to itself) but it made me realize that I was gay gay gay gay gay!
So one day I was driving around with Linda and my best friend The Pirate Librarian and Linda really began to push the issue of her and I dating.
So I told her a story of a guy I knew who had tried to have a romantic relationship with a woman, even though he suspected he was full on all about wearing knee pads and taking it in the face. However this just made her want to know who it was that I was talking about. Summoning up all my courage (I was so happy the Pirate Librarian was with us) I told her that it was me.
Well she was not happy with this.
No, not happy at all.
In the same moment in the car she confessed that she was in love with me and that this was not what she wanted.
Well, too bad. What am I supposed to get a cattle prod from the farm to do my own aversion therapy? Get real.
So it then began this pattern of her telling me everyday that I was not actually gay. No, I was in denial of my being in love with her. I was pretending I was gay so that I would not have to have all the loving that Linda had to offer.
That daily sentiment fucked me up a whole lot more.
So finally one day I just flat out told her that I was gay, it had nothing to do with her and she should get over herself. And then I transferred high schools, not to get away from her but to get my OAC writers craft credit which my high school did not offer.
Linda and I kept in touch as we both went off to University, but she got really weird. She was depressed, she went on medication, she got engaged and I was invited to the wedding. However, her wedding was going to be a Teddy Bear wedding, kind of like a Teddy Bears Picnic. Her bouqet was little bears on stems, there wear teddy bears all over the place as decorations and the cake was in the shape of - you guessed it - a Teddy Bear. Why? you may ask. Because they called each other their "Little teddy bears" Is that not so fucking cute you want to vomit - I wonder why Norman Rockwell painted nothing with that motif.
So I boycotted her wedding. There was no way in hell I was going to that. Also at this point I was fed up with her and her behaviour of always putting me down for being gay, she was still not okay with that fact even though she said she was.
And today, almost 10 years since I last saw her I have no idea what may have happened to her.
I hope no one choked on a piece of the wedding cake.

How can I repay . . . whatever

Take the quiz:
What type of gay guy are you?

You are the romantic type! You fall for candlelight dinners and sunsets on the beach. You love gazing into your BF's eyes when you make love.
Quiz by Take the quiz

Thursday, May 25, 2006

You are the cut that makes me hide my face

I once thought that I was in love with a girl.
I did. I really believed it.
However I was also really confused at the time and could not handle it. I was an emotional basketcase.
Her name was Linda (yes her real name, but since I am not writing her last name it doesn't really matter and no one can sue me. Right Sheila and Paul?) and she was in my first semester grade nine math class.
So a little backstory first off.
I was a weird kid, but at that point in high school things were pretty rough. I was the token faggot for grades 9, 10 and 11 (grade 12 and O.A.C.had their only girlie boy to pick on and abuse) and I was verbally harassed constantly. It was a barrage of harted thrown at me on a daily basis. Add to the mix the fact that I was overweight and it was enough to make me consider suicide on a regular basis. There is nothing complimentary in being called "Fat Faggot!" on a regular basis.
I also dressed creativley, had strange beliefs about culture and stuff and listened to music that only "girls" were supposed to listen to aka: Madonna and Paula Abdul - I would never admit to my secret love of Weird Al. Oops, too late.
So anyways there was this one girl Charlotte who I sort of liked, but she just did not have it for me. And then I decided I liked Linda, she was sort of sassy, had attitude and listened to me. She was also overweight which was attractive to me since it made me feel safe as I was also fat.
So Linda and I sort of starting dating or whatever you want to call it. We talked on the phone, we passed each other notes in class. This peaked the attention of several of the almost popular girls in our math class, who were also in my homeroom. I say that they were almost popular since they were considered cool, but were not the ulitmate cool, they were one step down. They hung out in the cafeteria, but they did not get to sit on the stage with the uber cool kids.
So these two girls began to take notice of my romance with Linda and on one day they decided to ask me what was going on. Now these two girls had never talked to me before in my life, they had let their male compatriarts call me names and had never defended me. Still they were only mean by association, but I still did not really like them.
On the morning that they approached me I had started to question my sexuality. I knew that my attraction to Linda was not as strong as my attraction to men. I did not think of woman in a sexual way. I did not gaze longily at the sunshine girl, it was always the sunshine boy (who we all know sucked in comparison most of the time). So I was trying to figure things out, and I was confused and in pain and distress and having these two "I can't believe it's not cool" girls come over to ask me what was going on with myself and Linda as I opened my locker was more than I could handle.
I let go, I broke down, I started crying and I told them to GO TO HELL! Mrs. Jones the business teacher heard me and scolded me for language, but I did not care. This was more than I could take.
The message that was sent to me that day was very clear. Up until this point I had been considered an outcast and secondary citizen since I was girlie and had no proof of not being gay. As soon as it was seen that I might not have been, my status was raised to the point that it was acceptable for the almost cool girls to talk to me. I was much more acceptable in social circles as a girlie straight guy, than I was as an unconfirmed girlie boy.
That really hurt me.
And I think that it clearly explains a lot of the reasons why I take it so hard when socity clearly lets me know that they have a problem with my physical demeanor.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

In the story of my life : The Pre-quel

I was a prissy little kid.
I am not gonna lie about this.
I just was.
I was not a neat freak, I was just a kid who liked to have things in a certain place and that I should wear what I want to wear.
I guess I was strong willed as well as prissy. Cause I wanted to wear what I wanted to wear, when I wanted to wear it. And it did not matter what my parents wanted.
I could throw a hissy fit to beat all hissy fits, and well my Mom usually caved pretty easily so I always got what I wanted (both my sisters (especially the Dykey one) were annoyed by this - but I can not help that I was born last, can I? Not to mention the fact that being the only son on a dairy farm meant that I had to do way more boring shit with our father than they did, so I think it evens out).
I was the one who wanted to direct.
After I finally saw "return to oz" in grade 4 I decided that my calling was to force my sister to re-enact the film with me, but we would have to change things for copy right reason.
Since I was so enamoured with the original Wizard of Oz, I decided that what the sequel lacked was the music. The glamour, the songs, the dancing. Can you really have Dorothy and the Scarecrow and not have a jazzy number? I mean even The Wiz was a musical (not that I knew it existed then) so my re-make was also going to be a musical.
So what I did was I went through my Mom's country music collection, my oldest sister's (who I will call Miss Polly Prissy Pants) tape collection (mainly Whitney Houtson and Rick Astley - Ugh (and does that explain the name?)), and I think that was about it. Obviously we would not be using my Smurfs or Rainbow Brite albums (and to think my parents had no idea I was gay at this stage of my life - how could they be so blind? I was remaking "Return to Oz" as a musical starring me as Dorothy and the Dykey sister as everyone else. Man when people live in denial, they really live knee deep in it) they were far too childish an element for my sophisticated musical.
Also I was recording this on tape, audio tape. Remember those? Yes my Magnus Opus was to be a radio remake. It would be beautiful.
So my master plan was to re-enact the film, and put in the appropriate song at the appropriate moment (I was not worried about copyright law or whether or not the song really fit the moment, just as long as it had one or two lyrics that I felt fit the moment).
However the film ended really before it began. Almost an hour into recording the Dykey sister and I ran into irreconcilable artistic differences. She wanted to do the scream herself when Dorothy was jumping into the river. No way was that ever going to happen - I also had the movie book on tape that had a girl screaming that was perfect as you could hear the river rushing in the background. We had no river and to be perfectly honest, like her laugh - my sisters scream is scary in a not-so-good way.
So we came to blows over this one detail. I would not give in and she would not give up. So my radio remake movie version never saw the light of day. But it did teach me one very good lesson, I can not work with my sister. She is just as stubborn as I am.

Did you dreamed you woke up happy?

I have something that I want to say, but it does not seem to want to come out.
Hopefully another time.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

That is kind of sticky

This past weekend was really cold. And even colder when you are by a lake.
So my friends and I spent most of the weekend indoors with a roaring fire and lots of beverages to keep us warm and happy.
On sunday my sisters and I were watching a movie and I took a sip of hot chocolate and had a coughing fit. I did not have time to swallow the hot chocolate, nor did I have time to spit it out, in fact I tried to not cough and in fact ended up with hot chocolate all over my face and mainly on my glasses.
This amused Dykey sister to no end.
Who laughed her usual laugh.
Now for those of you not familiar with my Dykey sister (I say that because she is a lesbian, not cause she looks like one) she has the most powerful, ear drum splitting, annoying laugh an older sister could have.
I am sure that in some countries having to listen to her laugh constitutes severe prisoner of war torture, however since I am related to her I need not be at war, I get the torture for free.
So my having hot chocolate dripping down my face and all over my glasses was quite the entertainment for my sister. She went into laughing hysterics and could not breath, but finally she got control of herself, and frankly I am happy she did since I did not really want to save her at that moment as she was not the one all sticky and gooey, nor was she the one being laughed at (at, not with, cause I was not really laughing).
And kids that was the highlight of the weekend.
Fun, huh?

Friday, May 19, 2006

the edge of nowhere

Today has been a strange day for my interactions with men.
It all started when some guy from the gym said "Good morning" to me on the street. It caught me off guard. I managed to barely eek out a reply but I did it and I think he heard me say it.
Then next I accidentally held open the door for my arch nemesis at the gym and he actually seemed really nice.
I have developed a hatred of a gym goer when one day he thought I could not hear him and he made a comment to two of his friends stating that I had not signed up for the machine I was on. So? BFD! No one else signs up for any of the machines. He is the only one, most of the names on the erase boards have been there since the dawn of time (which is last Sept 2005 whenI joined the Y, in case any of you were wondering).
Then I am back at work on the reference desk in Soc and Rec and one of the Admin assitants comes over to chat with me. And he asks me how I am, and I reply that I am feeling wonky. He asks why, I just simply state that I am going off some medication and it is giving me withdrawl.
He then tells me he is jonesing for some pot. I sort of laugh and then he lets me know that he has a great dealer and can hook me up. At this point it made me a little uncomfortable. I have no problems with drugs or in doing them (within moderation) but it does bug me a little when I co-worker I barely know is trying to hook me up. He then proceeds to ask me if I know of anyone who can get schrooms. At this point I changed the conversation to how old he is as I don't really want to have anyone in the library overhearing this conversation. Maybe he is allowed to talk like that on the "manager side" of the building, but on the library side I know it is frowned upon.
Men, I have a hard time relating to them. It is a part of the problem, and I realised that I find it so much easier to talk with women. Mainly because I don't want to sleep with them, but also because I am just so much more comfortable with them. They usually don't ask me for drug connections.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

NOAU and the really strange sleeping habit

Do any of you do this?
I used to sleep walk.
I don't remember it but my siblings have informed me that I have done it.
And now it seems that I have started a new sleeping habit.
I have started sleep eating.
I woke up this morning with an almost finished bag of licorice in my bed with me. I do not remember getting up to get it and eating it. (just so you know it was strawberry flavoured, I hate black licorice)
The strange thing of all this is that I had to have gotten up, gotten the licorice, not let my cats into the bedroom, taken out my night guard and eaten the candy.
How fucked up is that?
Please tell me that someone else does weird things like this whilst they sleep.


Don't make me be the crazy one.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

I have no idea what to write about

I am going off my medication.
It is a strange experience.
After since months of being on anti-depressants I am now going off of them. My therapist and I are trying this to see if the psycho therapy is helping to relieve the problem or if I need to be on the medication longer.
This is a join effort with my GP to see if it is the effexor that is causing my sweating or if it actually is over training.
Either way, this is not the most fun that I could have in a week. The withdrawl has not been as bad as it could be. There have been cases where withdrawl has been so severe that it has been recomended that the individual stay on the medication for the rest of their life, that would suck if you got stuck on a desert island. Could you imagine that after years of avoiding the withdrawl that you have to go through it without any sort of other medication to help.
And I have also read about cases where the withdrawl effects have lasted up to 3 months after stopping the drug completely.
Currently the main side effect that I am having are the brain shivers. This is a weird sensation, it is like your body is cold and shivering, yet the shiver begins with your brain and then moves out to the rest of your body, it is like a cross between being cold and getting an electric shock. It is not uncomfortable, just a weird sensation. And the other side effects that I am having are those of a mild headache at about 2 in the afternoon and it lasts about 45 minutes and then goes away. I have not taken any aspirin for it since it is so light and dissipates quickly enough.
After three weeks of halfing my does, I was then on 37.5 mg for two weeks and today is my first day without a dose. So far it seems all right, the brain shivers are there but they are as mild as before. I am just hoping that in three weeks or so that the sweating and other problems will go away, if not it is back to the Dr for me.
And no hot bathroom sex yet, damn!

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

The Shaving Cream Knows

This morning I shaved.
Not really a life changing event.
But I noticed while running those 3 blades across my face that some renegade cream had formed an upside down valentines heart on the tile of my bathroom wall.
I have decided that this is a sign.
Of what I am not sure, but it is a sign nonetheless.
Does this mean that I will meet someone and fall in love?
Does it mean I will have dirty nasty bathroom sex with the manager who I stared down at work yesterday?
Or will I cut myself shaving and bleed a lot?
I don't know.
What does everyone predict?

Monday, May 15, 2006

How to dance gothic

Follow the link above and learn my pretties.
Learn to be better dancers.
Oh and make sure that you check out and stare down some manager at where you work and let him know you are interested by just staring at him and then smiling dirty.
I did that today with some guy at my library.
I am a bad bad boy.

Just for you, le camcam

1. Next person you'll kiss: Scott
2. Next movie you want to see: Stick It! Because it will be hilariously bad.
3. Next person you want to sleep with?: Scott
4. Next car you want to have?: If I had to have one, it'd be a Prius or a Smart Car.
5. Next time you're going out? Tonight! Rainer Maria! Yay!
6. Next time you're going to move: I would like it to be when I buy a place.
7. Next thing you're going to save money for: A laptop or a trip.
8. Next time that you will drink alcohol: Le never, thanks.
9. Next person you are going to call: A person about a job.
10. Next place you'll take vacation: I don't know - possibly New York City.
11. Next thing you are going to do after filling this survey?: Eat something.
12. Next thing you are going to eat: Possibly a veggie burger. I haven't decided yet.
11. Next time you plan to be drunk? Le never.
14. Next thing you are going to do outside: Mail letters.
15. Next person you'd like to see fill this out: Whoever wants to.

1. Last kiss: Yesterday.
2. Last person you hugged: My brother-in-law, Zaid.
3. Last person you spoke to: Zaid and my sister.
4. Last alcoholic beverage: Grasshopper. In 1996.
6. Last movie: Stay. It was...interesting, in a "I think I missed what they were trying to do" way.
7. Last person you thought of? Cam.
8. Last school you went to: Ryerson University, but I'm not done yet. So completed programs, it would be University of Guelph.
9. Last person you said I love you to: Scott.
10. Last run in with the law: Never, unless you count that evening I hung out with my brother's friend, who is a cop on maternity leave.
11. Last fight you were in: One that involved hitting and/or throwing things? With my sister when we shared the house in Guelph - 1999 or 2000.
12. Last bar/club/concert/party you went to: Pearl Jam this past Tuesday. But I'm seeing Rainer Maria tonight!
13. Last person you e-mailed: Umm...Scott. Unless you count livejournal comments, since they generally get emailed - then it would be Allison.
14. Last thing you ate: An oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.
15. Last thing you saved up money for: The maid of honour dress for my best friend's wedding this August.
16. Last song you sung: The Nocturnal House by Pretty Girls Make Graves.

First car: Thor: Car of Champions and God of Thunderbirds! (He was a dark red, 1986 Thunderbird. He ROARED and was quite awesome.)
First pet: A black lab named Sunny and a black cat named Bullet. They were family pets. As for ones that were just mine, it would have been Rufus, the beta fish.
First word/phrase: Probably Mama or Dada. My sister's was Polkaroo, though, which is pretty funny.
First alcoholic beverage: Not including sips of wine or beer from other people's glasses as a kid, it would be Grasshoppers, as mentioned above.
First time you stayed out all night: SOAR in the 1990s sometime - I stayed up for 30 hours. And part of that was doing a dance to "Let Your Backbone Slide". Oh yes.
First best friend: Krista.
First job: Office Assistant at an Aggregate company.
First school: Macville Public School.
First kiss: Probably Mike Bayliss. I don't know for sure, though.
First Tattoo: None. But I think I would like the Anti-Flag star made of broken machine guns.
First car accident: Boxing Day, 2001. I hit one of those little brown phone things after hitting ice and landing in the ditch. They FINALLY fixed the box last summer. I was getting sick of going past it and having my parents bring up the accident ALL THE TIME.


I am working in a different department today.
Fun huh?
Let me back track a little, on saturday I finally learned how to link the extension to other extensions to forward people to different desks. I am very proud of myself for this as it took me forever to do it and now that I have mastered it I don't feel like such a dork.
And it is a good thing that I did as no one who calls this floor actually wants to talk to me, so I have been a linking fool.
But at least I know how to do it.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Dawson's Crack

Last weekend I had a couple over that I am good friends with. In fact one half of the couple was the first guy I had dated in University, amazingly he and I are still friends.
This couple is very big into porn. They really like their porn. They are aficiando's of the gay porn realm. The two of them were incredibly smitten with this new film that they had seen called "Dawson's 50 load weekend". They would not stop talking about it. They said it was amazing, that it was sexy and awesome and something that I just had to see.
So I downloaded it.
And I watched it.
Well I watched parts of it.
I sort of fast forwarded back and forth to see things.
I did not find this movie sexy at all.
I found it rather appalling.
How on earth did this movie even get made?
First off this movie is very amateurish, which is fine, because I think that they have done it on purpose.
And the film stars their stock actor named Dawson. Now according to this film and to the publicity surrounding it (yes I am such a librarian) that the star is insatiable and can not get enough.
Fascinating stuff.
The actors are all attractive and the action seems genuine and not faked or forced like other films.
However I found the action degrading. The film starts with Dawson have 20 different men's sperm funneled into his ass. This starts off his 50 load weekend. Personally I think this is cheating and I think its gross.
Then he gets fucked or ejaculated on by 30 other guys. Strange if you ask me. Most of these men just treat Dawson like a piece of meat. Okay, maybe Dawson is okay with this, or maybe this is suposed to be a turn on for the viewer and it all means nothing, but in my opinion I found it embarassing. And not only was I embarassed to watch it I was embarassed to find myself getting turned on by it. It was a strangely humbling and erotic experience all at the same time.
But then I made a startling realization, the action was all bareback. Now for those of you not familiar with the term, it does not mean riding on a horse with no saddle. It means without the use of any protection. No condom, no nothing.
So our hero Dawson had the sperm of 50 men in or on him.
This concerns me about STD and STI transmission.
What are the makers of this film or the actors doing to ensure that their actors are not passing on any infections? And Dawson? What on earth would possess him to do this? Even if everyone involved in this film had testing, there is still the possibility that something did not show and was passed on.
I realize that this film is meant to be erotic, but I can not help but critically analyzing it and wondering what sort of comment it is making about what turns us on and about socially responsible behaviours.

Friday, May 12, 2006

World Views Explained with Cows

"If it can not be described metaphorically using cows, then it can not exist."
-Geoff Johnson

FEUDALISM: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.

PURE SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care of all the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.

BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and as many eggs as the regulations say you should need.

FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.

You share two cows with your neighbors. You and your neighbors bicker about who has the most "ability" and who has the most "need". Meanwhile, no one works, no one gets any milk, and the cows drop dead of starvation.
You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk. You steal back as much milk as you can and sell it on the black market.
You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.
You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.
You have two cows. The government thinks one is smuggling drugs and it is shot. The other cow actually was smuggling drugs.
SINGAPOREAN DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. The government fines you for keeping two unlicensed farm animals in an apartment.

MILITARIANISM: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.

PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.

REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.

AMERICAN DEMOCRACY: The government promises to give you two cows if you vote for it. After the election, the president is impeached for speculating in cow futures. The press dubs the affair "Cowgate".

BRITISH DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. You feed them sheeps' brains and they go mad. The government doesn't do anything.

BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. After that it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows..

ANARCHY: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a fair price or your neighbors try to kill you and take the cows.

You don't have any cows. The bank will not lend you money to buy cows, because you don't have any cows to put up as collateral.
HONG KONG CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell three of them to your publicly - listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother - in - law at the bank, then execute a debt / equity swap with associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax deduction for keeping five cows. The milk rights of six cows are transferred via a Panamanian intermediary to a Cayman Islands company secretly owned by the majority shareholder, who sells the rights to all seven cows' milk back to the listed company. The annual report says that the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. Meanwhile, you kill the two cows because the fung shui is bad.

ENVIRONMENTALISM: You have two cows. The government bans you from milking or killing them.

FEMINISM: You have two cows. They get married and adopt a veal calf.

TOTALITARIANISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and denies they ever existed. Milk is banned.

COUNTER CULTURE: Wow, dude, there's like... these two cows, man. You got to have some of this milk.

SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

LIBERTARIANISM: You have two cows. One has actually read the constitution, believes in it, and has some really good ideas about government. The cow runs for office, and while most people agree that the cow is the best candidate, nobody except the other cow votes for her because they think it would be "throwing their vote away."
You have two cows. You use them to do labor, provide milk, etc. until they no longer can, and then you worship them.
You have two cows. They go missing; as you amble about the countryside looking for them you see a beautiful woman. Life is good.
You have two cows. You throw one out in the street to get a cab to stop. The other cow gets stabbed before it can get into the cab. The cab driver yells something in a language you can not understand, and you are left on the curb with two dead cows.
You have two cows. One of your cows doesn't work and exploits the other cow which works. This is the way it has always been throughout history.
You have two cows. One of your cows produces milk in great quantities so you keep it. The other cow does not, but you get a leather coat and some hamburger out of it.
You have no cows. Billions of dust particles collide. BANG! You have two cows.
Two cows are watching you.

First, last and everything

1. Next person you'll kiss: Dunno

2. Next movie you want to see: Poseidon

3. Next person you want to sleep with?: Dunno

4. Next car you want to have?: Don't want one

5. Next time you're going out? I never go out

6. Next time you're going to move: when I can buy

7. Next thing you're going to save money for: student loan

8. Next time that you will drink alcohol: saturday night

9. Next person you are going to call: Emiline

10. Next place you'll take vacation: The cottage

11. Next thing you are going to do after filling this survey?: Weed the esl section

12. Next thing you are going to eat: Blood orange

11. Next time you plan to be drunk? Tommorrow night

14. Next thing you are going to do outside: catch the bus

15. Next person you'd like to see fill this out: Emiline (cause she never posts)


1. Last kiss: Almost a week ago

2. Last person you hugged: Tara

3. Last person you spoke to: Branch head at Rexdale

4. Last alcoholic beverage: Red wine

6. Last movie: Elizabeth town (ugh awful)

7. Last person you thought of? Emily

8. Last school you went to: Univeristy of Toronto

9. Last person you said I love you to: Dunno

10. Last run in with the law: Never

11. Last fight you were in: With my sister in grade 10

12. Last bar/club/concert/party you went to: The Velvet Underground, a month ago

13. Last person you e-mailed: Emiline

14. Last thing you ate: Strawberry yogurt

15. Last thing you saved up money for: to pay back my sister

16. Last song you sung: Dying proof: Juliana Hatfield



First car: Tricycle

First pet: Dog named Laddie

First word/phrase: Don't remember

First alcoholic beverage: Vodka

First time you stayed out all night: canada's wonderland grad night

First best friend: Darryl

First job: Farm kid

First school: Warsaw public school

First kiss: Oh god Tracy Morton, I regret that. And then Chris Herent

First Tattoo: Pink triange on right foot, it is now covered up

First car accident: Never

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Makes sense, she was my role model

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Kitty to go

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Monday, May 08, 2006

The Very Latest in Fashion

Okay kids, follow the above link.
Then watch the video.
Then piss your pants laughing.

In the story of my life (the musical)

Directions: Open your choice of music player
and put it on shuffle. Press play. For every
question, type the song thats on. When you
go to a new question press the next button.

Opening credits - "Big Bottom" - Pansy Division

Waking up - "Someone Always Talks" - Mary Lou Lord

Average day - "How Far" - Sarah Cracknell

First date - "Your Way or the Highway" - Blake Babies

Falling in love - "The Only One" - Juliana Hatfield

Fight scene - "Sugar Coma" - Hole

Breaking up - "I'll Remember" - Madonna

Getting back together - "Berlin" - Kirsty MacColl

Secret love - "Silent All These Years" - Tori Amos

Mental breakdown - "All I Really Want" - Alanis Morrissette

Driving - "Plump" - Hole

Learning a lesson - "A Pigfoot and a Bottle of Beer" - Billie Holliday

Deep thought - "The Ballad of Cleo & Joe" - Cyndi Lauper

Flashback - "He Thinks He'll Keep Her" - May Chapin Carpenter

Partying - "One or the Other" - Paula Abdul

Happy dance - "Spin Spin Sugar" - Sneakerpimps

Regretting - "We Will Rise Again" - Juliana Hatfield

Long night alone - "I've Got Time" - Letters to Cleo (Ha ha ha)

Death scene - "Rang You & Ran" - Jen Trynin

Closing credits - "Sea Song" - Emm Gryner

(all in all I think that these songs are just a little too appropriate)

Friday, May 05, 2006

When I walk on a cyclone

As many of you readers and friends may be aware, I have been trying to find out what has raised my body temperature. I have been going to the Doctor since October, having blood removed, stool samples, more blood removed, ultra sounds, etc.
And all of this has come to reveal nothing.
My GP is pretty certain that what is causing this is my meds.
I am not sure how much I agree with her.
However, as of Weds night new light has been shed on the situation.
Apparently too much exercise is the most probable cause of all my symptoms. Of which I am not gonna list 'em all.
But I have been doing research and although I can not find any concrete information on the subject (I am borrowing the book from my friend tonight so I will tell you more) the bits and pieces I have put together show that I am over training, severeley. Apparently I am training more than an olympic athelete and the effects of this can be: reduced metabolism, depression, low libido, anxiety, high or lower body temperature, etc.
So I am gonna look into this.
The creepy thing is that this means that I probably have an addiction to exercise. I never really knew that this existed or that it could be a problem. But it looks like it may be.
Oh my goodness.
I hope I don't have to go to over exercisers anonymous.

Hi everyone, my name is NOAU and I have a problem . . .

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Even though I am not as tall as you, I soar in my high heels

I recently read a quote by Madonna about teaching her daughter self respect in terms of her interactions with men. I can not remember the exact quote but the gist of it was quite powerful.
It made me begin to wonder about myself and how I feel about myself. I have always tried very hard to be the most best version of myself that I could be. Loud, noticeable, witty, charming, outrageous, you know - who most you think I am. Not that that is not who I am, but in part it was to cover up the insecure side of me. The side of me that was afraid to actually be me.
To be quiet or be alone.
The person who I am, but I am afraid that people will not like because I am depressed or stressed out, or that I have problems.
I was never taught self respect by my parents or my peers.
Mainly I was taught to hate myself.
I had some friends who have attempted to teach me to love myself and respect myself, but their efforts only went so far as I was so ingrained in the behaviour that I had going on and in the patterns that I had trapped myself in with my attempts to get my parents to notice me and to actually see the real me.
My parents and peers taught me to hate what I liked. So even though I liked it, I always felt like I shouldn't. I am talking not in terms of just popular culture but in terms of the things that I held dear.
I had always assumed and been taught by our society that the reason I like fashion, acting, writing, the arts, wine over beer, decorating, dancing and cooking were because I was gay. That somehow my being gay caused this. It never really occurred to me until the other day that I like those things becuase I just like those things and that my sexual orientation has really nothing to do with it. It is quite probable that I would like those things if I was not gay.
These are the things I like. And the things that make me happy and I have spent far too much time being told that as a male I am not supposed to like these things. That these things make me GIRLY. Well fuck it. If these things make me intrinsically girly then I guess that the world will just have to suck it up. I am tired of the rest of the world making me feel insecure because they can not handle how in their face I can be. I am tired of feeling like the world is out to get me because of the stupid comments that the few say that make me afraid of the masses.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

a rent controlled apartment with a communist family

I have officially been rejected by teacher.
Oh what you say?
Who on earth is teacher and rejected? What on earth for.
Well, teacher is a guy I went on a date with, two fridays ago.
We had a lovely time, we had dinner at this lovely italian restaurant that Mainja recommended. We talked and then we talked some more. We talked for the entire date, from 7:30 at night until 2 in the morning. He even came back to my place so we could talk some more.
We have ridiculous amounts of stuff in common, we like the same TV, the same music, the same movies, the same books, everything. We talked for what seemed like five minutes but was hours. I have rarely had that experience of talking to someone and just having the time fly by. He then left and I went to bed quite happy.
The next day I had dinner with a good friend and found out that Teacher and (I am gonna call her Ikea Girl) Ikea Girl went to high school together. Turns out he was overweight, not well liked and kind of a weirdo. Ha! Just like me.
So I called him on monday night to let him know that I knew someone who went to school with him. He finally called me back on friday to say that he had given up and wanted to know who it was.
I called him last night to tell him and to ask him out on another date.
So he remembered Ikea Girl and had thought of her often since graduating high school. So we talked about her. And then I went to ask him out and he informed that he was busy for all of May.
So I asked him what he was doing in June and he told me that he was moving back to Windsor. Oh really?
That is news to me. We talked for 8 hours and he did not once mention that he was contemplating moving home. And he would have had to be thinking about it cause he would have had to give notice yesterday. So funny that he tells me last night that he was thinking of doing this. It was one of the meanest rejections I have ever felt. It was not that he was rejecting me, but that he did it in this really cold manner. And to make it worse Ikea Girl has suggested that he probably did not tell me cause he wanted to jump my bones, but wanted me to make the moves on him. Which I did not.
Well pooh to you with knobs on you!
I find this almost devestating. It has been so long since I have been on a date with someone who I felt a connection with. I am not heart broken, I will pay my hydro bill and continue to go to the gym, but crap. I thought maybe it was my turn.