Jan 14

One Step Closer


First of all, go HERE and scroll down to the fifth photo. Recognize that motherfucker? That’s right, I got a very, very part-time job. It will probably only last a month or so, so you had better get a screenshot of it now, for proof.

It’s going to definitely be a challenge for me to write posts less than half the size of my average, but I think I’m up for it. I’m running out of shit to say, anyhow, so this will hopefully help me re-energize and start to focus on some other projects. I said “hopefully”, because focus has never been one of my strong suits.

It was really a shock, and an honour to be offered this, even if it’s not a full-time, real job. Aiming low is a great site, full of fantastic bloggers, and I might even get to try out some of my video and podcast ideas there. If they’re any good, that is. For all I know, they will suck and I’ll be run out of town on a rail.

Ow, my balls!

Ow, my balls! (from www.usareport.org)

That’s something that you just don’t see anymore. That, and tarring and feathering. I remember when I lived in northern Ontario, hearing about this guy that had been fucking around with some other guy’s wife and got caught. I guess all of the local menfolk gathered this dude up and tarred and feathered him for his indiscretion.

Oh good. A real photo of the abuse, and not some stupid drawing.

Oh good. A real photo of the abuse, and not some stupid drawing.  (from jematthews2.blogspot.ca)

I would persecute those fuckers for that. I would stalk and maim every last man involved. With no mercy, either. That is a horrible, torturous thing to do to someone, just because your buddy’s wife is a fucking whore. That’s like in high school, when you catch your girlfriend of three weeks giving some guy a handjob at the Impressions dance, and you knock his ass out. That prick just did you a favour, but for some reason you don’t skid your cheating slut girlfriend, you automatically blame the guy in the tight, stonewashed Ikedas. In truth you hit him because you could only afford Levis, but that’s beside the point. Continue reading

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 31

What Have I Done To Myself?


Seriously. I’m a mess, and have been since these holidays have started. The kids have gone south with their dad, and we thought that we would just wallow in our sadness while laying in bed and maybe watch some movies. I got the LOTR trilogy from the girls, and Mrs. B hasn’t seen it, so this seemed like the perfect time to enlighten her.

It was damn tasty. Click here for the photo credit.

It was damn tasty. Click here for photo credit.

The kids left on the 22nd and on the 23rd we had one of my many family dinners. That was filled with amazing food, my family, whom I love, and possibly a few beer followed by a coffee with my new love: Rum Cream. I think Lisa told me where it came from, but I don’t really remember, so I’m going to say Jamaica. It was a wonderful night, and I was glad to see my mom’s side of the family get together, because I missed last year, but I ate and drank far too much, and spent the night and next day eating Pepto and Zantac sandwiches.

The 24th was spent getting ready for the birthday of the Christ child with baking delicious cookies (I didn’t help), and making the ultimate dip (I chopped the onion and garlic). We took that to Mom’s and went up to Dad’s, where we were assaulted by a flurry of amazing food particles. There were meatballs, lasagna, garlic bread, and a bevy of hors d’oeuvres. I, of course ate too much, and then went back to Mom’s and ate a bunch more.

I can’t help myself. It’s not my fault that everyone makes such excellent food, or is it? I don’t know what makes me think I need to try everything that is offered, but I do. I guess it’s a curse, albeit not a very bad one. 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