February: In and Out of a Lamb

February is upon us like Kyle on a Newport. I'm not sure if any of the inflamatory pictures or remarks are on here are even reaching the right people any more. As we're all engrossed with Gears of War, work, or porn. I'm completley taken by my Nintendo Wii. I can't stop playing Zelda or creating a Mii for every occasion.

Though February JUST got underway, I'm looking forward to March. For a variety of reasons.

Or at least a duo of reasons. The first being that I'd like to plan a trip home during the first part of the month. Home being: USA! USA! So if there are any couches that would like to volunteer their ability to support my nude sleeping ass, please e-mail me.

Now. One of the few things I can see postponing my trip home? Guitar Hero II for the 360. I can't WAIT for this crap. Once I saw "Who Was in My Room..." by the Butthole Surfers on here, I was sold. I don't care if My Chemical Romance is on it. I don't care. I put mascara on and play. Lynard Skynard? I'll get in an airplane crash so that my brother can play.

I'm seriously counting down for this game. I think I might even buy a strobe light and a fog machine. You guys don't know how lucky you are that I now have the Live Vision camera for my 360. Well. Chris and Mila know how lucky they are.

I Like it Rough...Draft

Time to break out some new Arm n' Hammer and set it inside the blog here. Things were starting to get a little stale and musty. Sort of like a story I started about a year ago when I had no internet. Just me, my computer and my thoughts. And also some messed up misguided urge to pen a story.

You see, I need a creative outlet. Whether it's drawing, playing video games or even this blog. Sometimes I need to purge myself. Other times...probably not. As evidenced in the story I began nearly one year ago. I'm going to post it here. You can read it. Give me suggestions, tell me how terrible it is.

But in the meantime, maybe I'll print off a few copies so I can be a published writer! Watch out resume!!

The following is yet untitled and has no further developments. Yet. It'd be nice if the one of you that still checks in here tell me what should maybe happen. Or something....

_________________________________________________________________

The shuffling was making me nervous. It wasn't the kind you'd hear in a casino full of geriatrics...nope, this is the walking dead style. The "I'm gonna eat your brains just as soon as my dead limbs can get to you" type of shuffling.

Don't get me wrong. I love zombies as much as the next guy. I mean, who WOULDN'T want to have their gray matter sucked out through their eyeballs?! Call me crazy, but I'm gonna at least make a game of it. I'll call it....hide n' seek. Yeah. That shit's original.
I'll just continue to hide behind this big oak desk while those motherfuckers keep up the Vegas act outside. Yeah. MotherfuckerS. As in "Holy goddammotherucker...there's some scary PLURAL shit goin' on out there!" Yep. Thoughts of hitting the snooze button and waking up to some Phil Collins keep going through my head. "I can feel it coming in the air toniiiight..." Phil Collins? You're a dick. Thanks. Like that song could get any shittier, I've now got it stuck in my head and I'm making lame associations about getting my skull cracked open with it. Why couldn't some freakin' Van Halen or something be playing? Why do clock radios only seem to pick up Classic Rock, Classical or religious stations? FUCK!
As I rolled out of bed I tried to keep a positve attitude. "Phil Collins? Not even Genesis? Jesus. Well, my day can only get better! Folgers, here I come!"
Nothing like a nice hot cup full of dirty ass and a bit of sugar to get your morning going. I find that I like it better than, say, brains. But hey, to each his own. And right now, these dead motherfuckers are DEFINETLY going for their own. No amount of Folgers will suffice for these guys. Maybe Starbucks...MAYBE. But only because they'd want to look cool holding the cup while dipping my frontal lobe like a fresh biscotti.
This morning feels like decades ago. Distant memories. Ones that don't matter, because here I am behind an oak desk trying to stay alive. Ol' oak desk and I have a very shaky alliance. It hides me and I...well, I'm gonna kick a zombie in the balls, then I'll probably slam it's head into one of the solid oak drawers till it fills up with some dead zombie brains. I'm pretty sure Oak Desk knows this and doesn't appreciate it. But what's he gonna do? He's a fucking desk.
My stomach rumbles. I've got a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich on my mind....wait....was that the door?
Shuffle....shuffle...
Shit. I can hear the mucus moving in and out of this assholes lungs...which brings me a thought "Zombies need air? What? They're DEAD." I'll be sure to ask him why he's breathing...
I jump out from behind Oak Desk...only to be momentarily repulsed by the outfit this cocksucker is wearing. Black t-shirt with fishnet going up his arms. Black mascara dripping down his pale skin (even paler now, he'd be so proud if he had an individual thought in his head). Black skin tight girl pants, which had the most repulsive affect: Male Camel Toe. MCT is an affliction of many of the Hot Topic set. So I guess this dude has been a zombie twice. Zombie²? Lame, dude.
I have no qualms grabbing the red stapler from Oak Desk and hurling it at Hot Topic's head. Which proved only to make him angry. Angrier than when he was alive and his parents wouldn't let him take the mini-van to the A7X show. He showed the first initiative in his life and came at me. I kept my promise to Oak Desk.
My foot buried itself right up in Hot Topic's MCT. Apparently zombies still feel pain.
As he went into a standing fetal posistion, I grabbed his hair and flung open the oak file drawer. It's almost like it was made for slamming a head in.
"ARRrrriieee! Please, STOP! My fucking BALLS!!"
Oh shit. Please. No. Don't take this away from me...God...Allah...Buddha...MTV...Please....
"Sob...owww ow ow...what're you doing....asshole...my...my balls..."
Alive. This stupid prick. Is alive. I guess his style had the desired effect. I thought he was dead.
"Why the fuck were you wheezing and shuffling?" I let go of the back of his neck, allowing him to stand up and properly clutch his injured MCT. "You just made me break a promise to a very close friend." I give a knowing look to the desk. Which is not returned.
"...wheeze....wheeze....I just...wheeze...ow...finished a clove when some of those dead things came after me...and these pants...wheeze...my balls were chaffing from the running..."
I don't think this dude had done any running since 8th grade Phys Ed.
"What're you doing in here? What're we gonna do now?! Those things were right fucking behind me!"
I can't believe this shit. This is why I never became a religious man. Because, God hates me. "What do you mean WE? Nevermind what I'M doing in here...and what does right behind you mean?!
It was at that moment that a rotting hand grasped the door jamb.
"Asshole." I'm talking to both of them.
The rotting hand is followed by a rotting arm which is attached to an equally rotten torso. On top of the rotten torso? You got it. A rotten goddamn head. The two dead eyes lock in on my live ones. Hot Topic still has his back to the door. I hate having a consience.
"MOVE IT!" is what I should have said. Instead I kick him in the balls and throw him behind me. The last thing I need is this dude getting in the way...or reproducing.
By now, I can see the drool hanging from the zombies chin. He's making his way toward me. All I wanted was some lunch. So I guess I can identify with this rotting round mound of flesh. But there's a few distinguishments between us. My lunch? Peanutbutter and jelly. His: Probably my brains. His weapon? Stiff arms and gnashing teeth. Mine? A desk fucking drawer.
Grabbing the computer keyboard from the top of the desk, I make a swift movement upwards. I catch this fat dead dick in the jaw with the "Esc" key. His mouth slams shut sending half his tongue to fly over my shoulder and his bottom mollars to shatter. I bring what's left of the keyboard across his jaw, cutting his jowly cheeks open to expose his new vegetarian mouth. It also allows me the oppurtunity to grasp the back of his head and bring a knee into his soft gut. I hear (and feel) the rotten intestines erupt as my knee continues up further than a live person would allow.
Then? An enormous zombie fart. Unbelievable. Fucking nice. At least the gut shot brings him to bend over...right above the desk. I press down on the back of his head (is this gay porn or am I killing a zombie?! JESUS!) guiding it into the desk drawer. I've got the angle. I'm in front of the drawer, while he's at the side. Doing my best Steven Seagal, I kick the drawer in. But something is in the way. Oh. It's a HEAD. The zombie sort of screams/chortles. The drawer rebounds back out. Begging to be kicked again.
At this point, the zombie is in no condition to stand up. His head is still in the drawer. I release the back of his neck, and decide to go for some style points.
One roudhouse(ish) kick later, I'm rewarded with a drawer full of brains, skull and blood. Which amounts to one dead zombie. Is that a contradiction in terms? Dead zombie? I don't care. I know just this one won't be bothering anybody...except maybe the poor bastard who this desk belongs to.
"...ohhhh....my fuckin'...baalllls....you...asshole...."
That's my cue to leave.

_______________________________________________________________

Hairy New Year!

Wow. January. It brings the beginning of a new year. It ushers in the end of the NFL regular season. Huh. Now...something was supposed to happen at the end of the NFL season. Something...it's right under my nose. Hmmmmm...Chris? Do you remember what's supposed to start at the end of the NFL regular season? It was something that's you're supposed to keep hidden. Like, you must stash it. But in plain view. Josh? Kyle? Do you remember? Maybe if the three of you got together, you could come up with it. I'm pretty sure Chris knows...because it was his idea. I'm also pretty sure Mila doesn't.

Happy Holidays!!

Losers! I'd NEVER Do This!!

As many of you know, I work at a Toy store. Also, as many of you know, it's the holiday season. We're less than 2 weeks away from Christmas. And Chanukah is underway. Kwanza? Knockin' on the door. With all this going on, my work has been INSANE. I wish I could make that even more clear: INFUCKINGSANE. Jesus would be proud. I'm pretty sure whoever the Jewish guy is would be proud too. Jon Stewart? Yeah. Yeah, he'd be proud.

However, there's an even bigger religious figure that is grinning at his disciples. Who is this Holy Man? I'll give you a hint. If there were bumper stickers, they'd say "My Boss is an Italian Plumber". That's right. Mario. Mario's followers have been calling my place of employment for WEEKS inquiring about the Nintendo Wii. Literally 30 inquiries in a span of 5 minutes. "You guys got Wii's?"

"When you get Wii?"

"Herro, you have Wii?"

"Did you guys get Wii's in?"

On, and on. Well, we finally knew when we were getting them in. Saturday. Today. So we started telling people "Yeah, Saturday the 16th". It became Wii-Day. A day that will live in infamy. I started telling people to bring a sleeping bag and or a tent, because there's gonna be people there early. Some of those people laughed at me.

Well, to those people who laughed? I give you the above picture and my middle finger firmly pointed at you.

People showed up at 6pm to get their Wii's. 6pm on Friday. The day before Saturday...at which we open at 9am. This is also 3 weeks after the initial release of the Wii. PS3? What is that? We have some. But the interest isn't there. Not even CLOSE.

The above picture was taken at 11:45pm. I made a special trip just to confirm what I knew was going to happen. I laughed hysterically when I saw the tents peeking above the cars as I rounded the corner. It was also -8c. So to these people, I tip my hat. I also hope you can play your Wii without any fingers. Happy Winter Solstice!

Long Live Mario!!

One Week Later...

Permanent Dentures. Permanent markers. Permanent hair removal. Even permanent flavored gum...or maybe that's peppermint. I now have a new found permanent. RESIDENCY!! Nope, not to be a doctor. Though I'd make the best one ever. Dr. Ryan, medicine woman. I like that.
One week ago, I was granted my permanent residency here in Canada. During that week, I've been congratulated by my new countrymen. I've also become very sick with what I can only assume to be SARS. Or Mad Cow Disease. Either way, it's just a cute way of getting hazed into the country. OH! Haha, I just coughed up my liver. You guys are great! Crazy Canadians.
But I haven't forgotten my American heritage. I couldn't even if I wanted to. I'm reminded every day by the people of Canada. Whether they're from here or India. They know I'm not from here. Or India. How? Either they have super powers, or it's the way I say "wagon" and not "way-gen". Or "Semi' and not "Sem-ee".
"May I have your zip code?"
"No. But you can have my POSTAL code. American."
Ahhhh, subtle nuances. Funny how close that is to nuisances.
You know what else keeps me feelin' my American pride? The new Me First and the Gimme Gimme's album "Love Their Country". All country songs with a nice punk rock reimagining. I felt a little guilty about the fact that I could sing along to "Earl" the first time.
Also fueling my American pride? My huge weiner...and ability to exagerate the truth.
Truths like the one I posted 2 down from here. About CODIII. Mostly I didn't get it. I got Gears of War instead. Thank God. I love the Locust. I'll be adopting a Locust baby here in the next few months. Hands off Jolie/Pitt!!
Also? Look at my demand for Joey Harrington to play for Miami. LOOK AT THAT SHIT! Dolphins? I'm waiting for your phone call and your apology to myself and my on again off again boyfriend Joey Harrington. Why won't you return my calls, Joey? JOEY?!!!
Completley off the subject, here's a list of bands I'm currently rocking out to. Possibly nekkid.
1. The Falcon (members of Slapstick/Lawrence Arms/Alkaline Trio...I can't stop listening to em')
2. Me First and the Gimme Gimme's (D..d...d...DESPERADOOOOOOO)
3. Ryan's Hope (Chris and I got lost in Calgary while listening to em'. Remember, dude?)
4. Los Straitjackets (Greatest. Christmas. Album....EVER. Thanks Conan!!)
5. Gatsby's American Dream (Just some good ol' indie scenster rock. I like it.)
6. Lagwagon's cover of the NOFX classic "Linoleum" (it's got a banjo. BANJO! Plus it takes like 30 seconds to download. Free. Rad.)
7. Scream! Hello (Piebaldish rock. Mi gusta!)
8. I'm sure Form of Rocket would be on here. But I can't find their new album "Men" anywhere. Fuck. I LOVE these dudes. But "Men" eludes me. Why can't I find "Men"? I looked online for men...I mean, "Men". I've checked the mall for "Men". All I want is to have "Men" in my ears all night long! WHY CAN'T I FIND "MEN"?!!! Not even iTunes. Form of Rocket? Please send me "Men." Please.
9. Your mom.
You may have noticed the change to the blog template. Or maybe you haven't because nobody comes here anymore. Either way, I'm gonna be adding some different pictures when I figure it out.
You know what would be rad? If any of the elite people who read this would send me some pictures. I don't care what of. It could be a turd in your toilet. It could be your turtleneck. It could be of the Christmas lights you hung on your house. It could be of a Silvertips game or your new boyfriend. I don't care. Just hook a brother up! I miss everyone!

Belated Zombieween

Panda soup. That's what I suggested for a tasty Halloween evening treat...mostly because a little Asian kid was wearing a panda costume. Tasty.
We went to the in-laws house to hand out candy on a VERY cold Halloween night. It was totally Canadian. All the kids had huge jackets on. Before being thrown into the soup.
I revisted my zombie roots again this year and branched out with a bit more color and also popped my collar to be a "Fashion Zombie"...thanks Aquabats!
Anybody else do anything? Or are you all a buncha old cranky geezers? The kind that leave your porch lights on and answer the door nekkid and say "treeeeeeat". Nice.
Click the pictures and tell me what's scarier. I think the one on the right is...and I have no idea what that furry stuff is on my head from 2005. Man. Thanks, Dad, that shit didn't wait!

COD III

As I prepare myself to go to work, I find my thoughts wandering to the very near future. November 7, to be exact. That's when COD 3 drops. Chris? Your bolt gun won't save you now. 

Joey! Joey!

Man, it's midnight. I just took a sleep aid to help me get back on to a normal sleep pattern (thanks work).
In the midst of (or as a result of) taking the sleep aid, I couldn't stop thinking about today's NFL events.
I swindled my brother in Fantasy Footbal. I'll probably still lose, unless Favre found an all night pharmacy in Philadelphia, that is. I totally blew my picks this week. Messing up my FIL's gamblin' picks as well as my credibility. Not to mention that I think I'm now the number one contender to grow a mustache. I'm counting on you hermano!
I also couldn't help but think of Mr. Daunte Culpepper and what seemed like endless possibilities when he went to Miami. I just thought they'd be possibilities of winning. I even kept him on board in my salary cap football league. Holy crap.
It could be worse. I could be Sports Illustrated. They chose the Dolphins to go to the Superbowl. No shit.

F.E.A.R. 360 = Scary Ass Crap

Though the Xbox 360 still doesn't justify it's lofty price, I'm still a fan. The PS3 continues to shoot itself in the face. The Wii is gonna be rad, but I don't think it's going to take anything away from the 360. It's a totally different animal than the 360/ PS3 with it's crazy ass controllers and consumer friendly price of $250.
But I'm getting off the subject. The purpose and inspiration of these paragraphs is: F.E.A.R.
I just got done playing the demo. A demo that I downloaded for free on the Xbox Live marketplace.
I've got to tell you, I haven't been this freaked out (it's the freaking AFTERNOON) playing a game since the first Resident Evil, when those goddamn zombie dobermans (dobermen?!) crashed through the window.
The game was originally released on the PC. You might remember the commercials. It had one of those scary Japanese style little girls, a corridor of blood and TONS of explosions. This Xbox 360 port (port = console adaption) has all of those things. And that's just on the demo.
The game is a First Person Shooter (FPS) ala Halo or Call of Duty.
The weapons are so effing awesome. SO effing awesome. They range from standard to experimental. I got freaked out during one of my first encounters with a bad guy and pulled the grenade button (meaning to zoom in, thanks COD). The grenade made contact with the bad guy...and the small room I was in turned a nice shade of red. Dripping, splattered red. The shotgun seemed to have the same affect at close range. I also vaporized a dude from long range with some kind of badass sniper rifle that shoots lightning.
Do yourself a favor and download this demo. Do it after you're done killing me in COD2 and you're heading to bed. Do it before you leave to go to work. Do it while cooking dinner. You're not doing me a favor by getting this. I've got it. I crapped my pants and screamed profanities (this time I have an excuse). Do YOURSELF a favor and get this.
Oh, and the dude in the picture up there? I didn't encounter him, but he seems like a total dick.

Setting Kids Up to Fail: CFL

Last Saturday I attended a CFL game. It was Calgary vs Toronto...or drunken fans vs Ricky Williams. It was pretty rad. Thanks again to the FIL for hookin' me up. Our seats were at the endzone. Pretty cool.
We saw Ricky get tackled. A lot. There were also a buncha girls who appeared to be going through some sort of hazing process. They all had outfits on that consisted of leggings, underwear on the outside, face paint and (most importantly) wife beaters with letters on the back.
When each sat next to each other in a certain pattern, the letters spelled (shockingly) a word. What was the word? F-U-K-C. Yep, but then the K and C chick switched spots and it totally made sense.
After half time when the opposing players (incuding Mr. Williams) ran onto the field the chicks turned their backs to the field, much to the delight of the opposing players. And us. Pretty effing funny. Now that I think of it, why the hell do I have 20 pictures of Ricky and none of this incident?!! Goddammit.

SOWWY!

To my friends and brother who almost made me crap my pants last night. I realize this is apology number 2 (haha) to Chris. I laughed so hard at mine and Slag's intial apologies that my stomach (which has had a rough week) hurt. It hurt in such a manner that it demanded to be emptied. Immediatley.So I did.
My pajamas then begged me not to put them back on without taking a shower. So I did.
When I returned, everyone was gone. So, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you by playing COD and giving you some easy ass kills.