Monday 26 November 2012

Rob Ford, Spectacular Loser!

Well Folks,

As I mentioned way back when, Rob Ford is an offensive moron who cannot help but shit all over everything every time he opens his mouth.

I am happy to announce what you undoubtedly already know...ROB FORD HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY AND WILL BE REMOVED FROM OFFICE!

Here is a video from me to you. I've tried to compress all my schadenfreude into an MP4:

Thursday 15 November 2012

Star Trek TNG vs The Beastie Boys

I haven't been writing much. I'm sorry. But I hope I can make it up to you...


...which is to say, I had a dream. Last night:

It began innocently enough, I bought a sugar figure in the shape of Tasha Yar, security chief:

So there I was, holding my sugar Tasha Yar. When suddenly...I had a jar of blackcurrant jam...

NOW, for all you non-TNG folks out there (ps, tng = The Next Generation, aka the best Star Trek series ever).


You need evidence?

That's your evidence. Now, STFU.

SO, Tasha Yar was awesome and badass, but got killed off by the lamest villain the franchise has ever seen...EVER. And that says a lot:

Liberace look alike will crush you! ...Kirk is...aroused.

So yea, basically Deanna Troi (terrible) is trapped on a planet in a shuttle by an equally terrible monster...THE SKIN OF EVIL.


Terrifying...? No. Really not. But Tasha ends up being killed by this pile of marmite. Everyone is sad.

Now, back to blackcurrant jam...! So I'm holding this sugar Tasha Yar, and a jar of blackcurrant jam...

I dunk. Then laugh uncontrollably for hours of dream time.

But the dream didn't end there...Suddenly I found myself composing a rap about the whole jam + Tasha Yar situation to the tune of the Beastie Boy's "Paul Revere":

And here, for the rap my dreaming brain composed:

Noooooowww, here's a little story I got to tell - about a starfleet officer ya know so well! It started way back, in history, on stardate 41254 (.3!).  
I had a little figure, named Tasha Yar. Just me and my Tasha, chilling out right hurr. Running down the street, to find something to eat, when I bump into a jam seller, isn't that neat? 
One lonely jam jar I see. Blackcurrant jam, all for me...
(skip a bit...hey, it was a dream) 
She told a little story, it sounded well rehearsed. 3 days on this planet and she's dyin' of thirst. I grabbed her by the feet, and dunked her in my jar. She writhed around, she made some sounds, and then I laughed "har har".

Monday 5 November 2012

Surviving in a Survival Situation...or not.

I went indoor-climbing on the weekend, for the first time since I was about 11 years old...I also got to try bouldering:

Within minutes all the muscles in my forearms and fingers that I never knew about were making themselves heard...and they were pissed.

I watched 50 year olds, 10 year olds, and many in between scramble like monkey-men up walls and under 45 degree slopes...with ease, naturally.

I attempted to do the same...

it didn't really work out...

full of shame...and bruises.

Over several hours I got to a point where I could almost complete a yellow bouldering challenge (the second easiest level...the 10 year old aced it...sigh).

I watched some incredible climbers, swinging by only their fingertips, or leaping sideways across a wall to grab a hold the size of a cupcake (on a sidenote, I had a cupcake for breakfast. I'm content with my choices...?) , and I felt like maybe with a lot of practice, I could be leaping through the air to grab cupcakes too. Er...holds. Not cupcakes... (mmm, cupcakes).

Then I went home and, inspired by my new found climbing skills, watched The Descent ( it's pretty awesome, same director as Dog Soldiers)...thinking that my mad skillz could (potentially) save me from horrible cave-dwelling humanoid monsters...and then I saw this scene:

And realized that I would reach for the first hold, and immediately plummet to my death. Swearing up a storm the whole way down.

I started to reflect on what skills for survival I actually possessed...

Very bad flaws that I am burdened with for survival situation:
  • Slow runner (gonna get eaten by fast zombies)
  • No long-distance running ability (gonna get eaten by slow-but-persistent zombies)
  • Myopic eyesight (without contacts or glasses, I can't tell if you are a friend, or a giant monster)
  • Not good at hanging from cave ceilings (will fall or get eaten, cave-dweller dependent)
  • Allergic to various things found in nature (will give away hiding places to serial killers when sneezing)
  • Easily distracted (will venture off alone to investigate strange noises)
  • Cat lover (most likely to invite demon-possessed cat into social circle)
  • Will touch unknown flora (will give away position when screaming about firefly-floors)
  • Has been known to argue over details... (high likelihood of starting war with cannibal neighbours in the post-apocalyptic future)

...Hmmm, this list isn't giving me very good chances of survival in any situation, much less one involving zombies, serial killers, or cannibals...

On the bright side, Rob Ford is unlikely to drive to a post-apocalyptic future in his 2 remaining years as mayor...but if he gets a second term...I'll be stocking up on axes and Benadryl!