Oct 30

Where’s My God Damned Shoe?

That’s what I was probably yelling at the end of Gadget and Penny’s annual Halloween Extravaganza. I am just assuming that I was saying that, because I ended up going home with only one. It’s okay, my constant puking kept my mind off of my one cold foot. That’s right, I attended far too many meetings. Meetings that last year, I warned you against. There were actually a bunch of birthday celebration meetings, until the cake flavoured vodka ran out. then we were back to sambuca, Sour Puss, and dirty, old Mamajuana. I’m fairly certain that’s what put the nails in my coffin, but it could have been sheer quantity as well. I ate the worm shooters that made me choke last year too, but I knew they were in it this time around, so I lived through it. There were a lot of new faces, and a lot more old ones. I honestly got drunk enough that I was surprised at a lot of the pictures, and The Cleave hasn’t even shown what’s on hers. I had to pick through our camera and delete well over half of them for different reasons. Nudity, work, and lewd behaviour that could end in possible divorce were the three main ones. (Don’t worry, fuckers, I’ll never tell.)

I’m going to let the pictures do the talking, but first I need to tell you that we have enough pics for three posts. I say that is too many, so I’m going to weed it down to two, unless you want to see the rest. If you do, just leave a comment on here, FB, Twitter or Google+. I am going to post all of them on the G+ page anyhow, so it’s not like you can’t see them. Alright, here we go.

The start of the night. Bunch of somber looking bastards

Whoa! Somebody (Gadget) must have stayed up for over a hundred hours carving those out of foam.

Continue reading

Oct 29

Anything But Primitive

Long before I was even aware of the internet, I spent my time at bars. For a long time, the bar that I spent the majority of my evenings was called Southbound. I wish I had pictures of it, because it was phenomenal. The decor was from another world, and the owners were too. I believe they were from Bohemia. I was home.

Rhonda was the bar manager, and she was half hippie love child, half barroom brawler, and all awesome. Ron was the free-spirit behind the decor, and a veritable wealth of knowledge if you wanted to know anything about world travel. That guy had been everywhere, or so I thought. They had the best wings that I’ve ever had, and an amazing staff that changed quite a bit, but kept a steady level of awesome throughout.

They also used to travel every year to Southeast Asia for a couple of months and load up a container full of carvings and other oddities that they would find over there. That would get shipped to their place in Grafton ON, and from there, they would truck a load to the market on the Toronto waterfront every weekend. People would go crazy for the stuff they had. It was all very unique, and when you’re in a city of millions, unique is pretty hard to come by.

Fast forward 13 years. Continue reading

Oct 24

I’m A Bit Of An Arsehole

I may have gotten a bit soft as well. People have been mentioning that lately, and I guess it’s time to confront that demon.

“You don’t swear as much.”, or  “You aren’t as biting as you used to be.”

Both true and valid points. The fact of the matter is that I’m very happy, and I don’t feel like being mean or snarky.

Except on Sunday. Sunday was the day that I started this blog post. It was going to be posted on Monday, but I was too tired to finish the last little bit, so I went to bed. I had a good sleep, and got up Monday morning to publish it, and as I read it back, I was suddenly ashamed of myself. I deleted it all.

I asked myself, Who the fuck am I to be so high and mighty? Continue reading

Oct 16

Trash The Dress

I guess that now is a good time to tell you that I get a little bit pissed off when I see something being done by one gender or another, but not by both. This is a modern world, full of equality, but there are still certain activities that women seem to be doing exclusively, and I finally got sick of it.

I’m talking about “Trash The Dress”. For those of you who are unaware, I will let Wikipedia enlighten you:

“Trash the dress, also known as fearless bridal or rock the frock, is a style of wedding photography that contrasts elegant clothing with an environment in which it is out of place. It is generally shot in the style of fashion and glamour photography. “Trash the dress” is the art of destruction or deconstruction of a bride’s wedding dress to create a new “artwork” that the bride would be proud to display on their wall. This new “masterpiece” is formed in the creative destruction of the dress. This will normally be portrayed in a sequence of images or simply a single image.”

From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trash_the_dress

Well, ladies. What’s good for the goose, is good for the gander. I happened to jump into a shoot with a bunch of models, and they were quite welcoming. Feast your eyes on this.

Only one of my co-models would agree to be on the blog, so here we are.

It’s too bad, because they were all beautiful women, and it’s sad that you can’t gaze upon them. Ah well, such is life.

I want to introduce you to Breasts McGee, the greatest of the models appearing in this shoot. Do you know why? Because she is fucking fierce and fabulous, and her dress isn’t duct taped onto her. She actually fits into things.

The most beautiful and happy bride in the world.

This girl is going to be a star, and it won’t take her long to get there. Just look at these two shots. Continue reading

Oct 03

OUR TROPHY WAS STOLEN!

If you have missed the first part of this, CLICK HERE

Can you believe that someone would stoop so low as to kidnap such a beautiful trophy from such a wonderful team? I think that someone should contact the authorities about this. Not me, just because I don’t need to attract any more attention to myself, but someone sure should. These brazen bastards mustn’t get away with this sort of thing.

They even had the balls to post photos that we are still trying to understand. We know that J-Roc…

She may look like a lot of fun, but don’t let the look fool you. She’s dangerous.

Continue reading