Jan 07

Digging Up Bodies


Scooter came over for a visit and we were talking about the new stuff I want to do on the blog. It’s kind of a big deal for me, and maybe for others as well, because I want to start doing podcasts and/or video blogs.

I know it doesn’t seem like a huge deal to a lot of people, but for me it is. I have a lot of stories to tell, and I don’t remember the details of half of them, or even that they happened at all, until I’m reminded by someone. I’m also a shitty typer, and a big fan of winging it, so it seems like a perfect fit for me.

What I’m thinking, is to just have friends come in and have a few drinks while shooting the shit about the old days. The first ones will probably be at the studio or the kitchen table, but I’d love to do some at the camp as well, and maybe a few at some old watering holes. We could get a guy’s weekend going, and do a whole shitload at once, but would probably have to bust it up into small chunks, so you bastards didn’t become bored. We’ll have to try and keep them short, I guess. That will be tough, seeing how long winded I am, but I’m sure we’ll manage.

Maybe some stories from this era? (photo credit - Carolee V M)

Maybe some stories from this era? (photo credit – Carolee V M)

I also want to do a bit where I interview local business owners and people with different careers, but I get to ask half of the questions about random things. The other half can be about their interests, but I want to be able to switch topics on the fly, just to mix things up and keep them (and me) on their toes.

There is another thing I want to work on when my beautiful Mexican friend (not you, Mo) gets some free time, but I can’t divulge any of that just yet. I think it could be really cool if we do it right, from the start.

Do you remember any crazy shit that we, or anyone we knew, did? Do you have old photos of us doing stupid shit? Let me know. I went over it with Scooter and we thought of a couple of dozen stories we could maybe go with, so I’m going to try to get some filmed and recorded this week and possibly have something for next Monday. Hopefully. I don’t know.

These two could probably remember a few stories.   (photo credit: Carrie J W)

These two could probably remember a few stories. (photo credit: Carrie J W)

Seriously, I have no clue what we’re up against with editing video, audio, synching, etc… No clue at all. I just think that we need to do this for clarity purposes, because a great many people have alluded that maybe these posts from a younger and crazier time are just based on true stories, and embellished to make it more fantastic.

Well, they aren’t fabricated in my mind, but that doesn’t mean that I remember them correctly. This is where you come in. We pick a night, have a few pints, puffs, whiskey, or whatever else butters your toast, and we try to remember what happened. On video, or audio if you can’t be identified for whatever reason. How does that sound?

I know for a fact that she will call bullshit on a lot of my memories. Her head was a lot clearer back then. Love you, Mom.

I know for a fact that she will call bullshit on a lot of my memories. Her head was a lot clearer back then. Love you, Mom.

Scooter and I will start the ball rolling and then we can see how it goes. I know that Brad is in for some, and we’ll need Bugs for my birthday at the strippers story, but who else can even remember what happened? I’m pretty sure that you were all a bunch of hammerheads back then too. How about you, Stan? What about the weekend at the camp when Minnie was drinking beer in bed? We almost pissed our pants laughing when Paul started tossing all of the empties out.

Ah well, I know we’ll get a few people out, and maybe we’ll come up with some stories about local legends and whatnot. Who knows?

Uninvited he sat down and opened up his mind, on old dogs and children and watermelon wine,


Dec 10

How To Properly Shag A Sheep

(editor’s note – This is a fun post, and by no means should it be taken seriously. Click Here if you don’t have a sense of humour about zoophilia. Okay then, no complaining.)

I remember talking to someone over the weekend, and whatever we were talking about made me want to write a post about it. I said as much, and stored it away for Sunday night, but when the time came to type it out, I couldn’t remember what I was going to write about.

Luckily I have Facebook and was able to ask if anyone there remembered what I was going to blog about. No sooner than I asked, I got a response from Brad. He said it was either about how people can defeat the plutocracy, or how to sneak up on a sheep when you’re drunk and horny.

Thanks, Brad!

Seeing as I don’t even know what a plutocracy is, I guess you are going to learn about raping farm animals and how to properly tamp down your shame with [easyazon_link identifier=”B006Q7F2PE” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]morbid poetry[/easyazon_link] and self-inflicted glass cuts.

Yes it is, and no they don’t. They don’t even like getting laid by other sheep, as if your tiny pecker is going to do it for them. If you are human, and you fuck an animal, you are a rapist in every sense of the word.

[easyazon_image align=”center” height=”500″ identifier=”B001OAEMA4″ locale=”US” src=”http://changethetopic.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/41TAFSqOvSL.jpg” tag=”granligh-20″ width=”394″]

Yeah, but what about if she fucks me? Then it’s okay, right?

You deserve to be thunderfucked by the ram for being so stupid. No means no, and because you don’t understand sheep language, you can’t know for sure that it’s consensual. That would be like me forcing myself on random [easyazon_link identifier=”0996398201″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]Taiwanese[/easyazon_link] women, and because I don’t speak their language, using the defence that I thought they were saying yes. They weren’t.

No one, except sometimes my wife, willingly has sex with me. Continue reading

Dec 03

Movember Gala Parté

Yes sir! We thought we would head up and check out the big Movember Canada gala event at Kool Haus (The Guvernment), down by the waterfront in Toronto on Friday night. What a cool party. Other than the $25 to park, it didn’t cost us anything to attend. The tickets were free, because our team totally rocked the shit out of fundraising, and as we went through the door, we were handed free tall boy tickets from Molson. Every time we went through the door.

Before we get going, I should show you what Gadget did for the cause.

He’s a trooper.

That’s right, he shaved his head, except for a huge moustache at the back. Don’t laugh, it got him into the kitchen at The Keg with a couple of hot waitresses.

Inside we were greeted with quite a few moustaches and the Appleton Estates Ice Bar Thingy, where they pour a shot through this carved block of ice, and into your glass. For someone who likes to drink straight rum, this would be the place for you. You could just stand there and do a free shot, walk out to the lobby, punch the bag to win a Schick t-shirt (I was pretty close), back through the door for another free tall boy, lather, rinse, repeat.

Yeah, I don’t think it was just the rum that attracted the boys.

Continue reading

Nov 30

I Saw The Sign, And It Opened Up My Eyes (and a whole other kettle of fish)

If I remember correctly it was around the summer of 1993 when Bugsy asked me if I wanted to go to a keg party with these chicks he had met at Trudeau Park. He’ll recall the story better, but I’m telling it, so you get my version.

I said that I’d go with him on the four hour drive to Ottawa, where we would meet up with these sisters that he was all googly-eyed over. What the fuck? I didn’t have anything better to do A trip to Ottawa, a keg, sisters. What could go wrong?

I think his was fancier than this, like maybe it had a hood scoop and some ground effects.

He picked me up in what I assume was his Turbo Sprint,(He now tells me it was the Prelude) but please don’t quote me on that. Whichever vehicle it was, it got us there safely, but four hours of Ace of Base was a little much.

Anyhow, we arrived in Ottawa around 1PM or so I think, and I was happy to have some reprieve from that son of a bitching tape. We went into the backyard and this family was sitting there drinking a nice, warm keg of beer. I looked around for the party that was to be attached to the keg and thought we must be at the wrong house, because this was literally a family sitting there and getting hammered. There may have been two brothers and a sister; I don’t remember, but the point I’m trying to make is that it was not what most people would call a keg party. It was more like a family of alcoholics having a backyard cookout with no food. Continue reading

Nov 14

174 Albert

There wasn’t a cab driver in Cobourg that didn’t know that address in the 90’s. Some of the best times, with the best people happened right there. I don’t remember the exact circumstances of how I ended up being invited over there, almost every night, but I think it had to do with Mickey and the boys eating at the restaurant all the time.

I love Google Street View.

It was a constant party there. I mean it. Someone was drinking there every night of the week. It was crazy. We did a lot of stupid shit at that house, like building a potato cannon and lobbing whatever fruits and vegetables we could stuff into it over the houses towards the lake. It was a few streets back, so I doubt any of them made it, but when you are hammered at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, your trajectory knowledge of Lysol propelled produce is not at it’s peak.

I remember the day that Rocket and I finished the cannon. We were so excited, that we couldn’t wait to go to the store and buy potatoes, so we raided Mick’s fridge and cupboards. we got peaches, lemons, apples and potatoes. We had a cut off hockey stick as a ramrod, and an electronic BBQ sparker as our ignition source. It was pretty slick, let me tell you. Continue reading