Telephathic

I think the cat may have established a telepathic link with me. Yesterday while I was nearing the end of my Sunday nap I started a brief dream where said cat escaped from my apartment again. I was looking around for him and then I heard what I think may have been a neighbour's voice shout my name really loud. In the dream I turned my head to see where the voice was coming from. In reality land, the startling call of my name woke me up. My head was turned on my bed and when I opened my eyes the cat was sitting there staring at me. As soon as I opened my eyes he began to yell at me about feeding him (1.5 hours early).

I'm fairly convinced he manipulated my dreams to wake me up. It was either that or my bladder. But I think it was the cat.

In Yer He-ad...

My brain made up the following song while I was procrastinating from getting dressed this morning:

(to the tune of There's a Hole In My Bucket)

Oh, where are your pants,
Dear Laura, dear Laura?
Oh, where are your pants,
Dear Laura, your pants?

I hate them,
Dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
I hate them,
Dear Henry.
I hate my pants.

She's Ten Years Old

Watch Out

Some good friends of mine (KD &; MPV) were telling me about a movie they saw late this spring.  It is called "Birdemic - Shock and Terror".  It involves an homage to Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" and birds with lasers.  I watched the theatrical trailer and well, it seems to have "indie" written all over it.  But I'm not an expert in these things.  I'll give you the link to the movie's website, and you can have a gander here at the trailer and then you let me know your thoughts.

Oh, you should also know the film is being shown at the Bloor Cinema in Toronto on June 26.


Birdemic: Shock And Terror Official Theatrical Trailer from Severin Films on Vimeo.

You're Fine, You're Fine, You...You're Cut

I was at my parents' this weekend and watched a lot of playoff hockey.  While watching the Sharks and Red Wings on Saturday night, I initiated a line of conversation about the survival abilities of certain team mascots.  I decided that hockey teams need to be named after things that could plausibly survive a northern winter.

Teams like the Avalanche, Canadiens, and Penguins are quite alright.  Teams in the "eeee, you might freeze to death" category are the Panthers, Ducks and Coyotes.  But Sharks, Hurricanes and Blue Jackets, you guys would die.  You need to change your team names.  My Dad and I suggest the following: Pelts, Snow Leopards, Huskies, Freezing Rain, Snow Birds, Economic Incentive Programs, and Shovels.

Putting A Spin On Things

Sometimes it is hard to be single.  Though I also know it can be hard to be a couple too.  By not dating your Grandparent, I think you can find the goodness in whichever situation you find yourself.  Example - "daaag I wish I had a boyfriend, oh well, things could be worse, I could be dating my Grandpa."  Or "maaaan my significant other is annoying the stink outta me, oh well, things could be worse, i could be dating my Grandma and we could be paying a surrogate to have our child."

In case you're calling the hospital to have me committed, read this article first (then you can call).

Let's Make It A Theme

I googled 1500 in honour of Monday's 1500th post.  Here are some of the results:

• the year 1500 was a leap year and started on a Wednesday
• a map of Europe in the year 1500
• a lot of chatter about Kristina Groves winning the 1500m women's speed skating gold at the Vancouver 2010 Olympics
• a well advertised Dodge Ram 1500
• a February 2010 outbreak of mumps among Orthodox Jews in New York and New Jersey that surpassed 1500 cases

Aren't you glad I shared all of that?

Fifteen Hundred

Well holy crap.  This is my fifteen hundredth post.  Can you believe what an unbelievable waste of time contribution to society fifteen hundred blog posts is?  That is one thousand five hundred.  Do you understand this?  I'm not sure I can even comprehend this internet bytery.

Every once in a while I go back and read some of my earliest posts.  They suck.  Like suck haaaaaard.  Though at times they are a long ad for the Pita Pit or injuring annoying people.  Doing the second one would be a lucrative vocation if one could get beyond the law.  I'm still working on it.  But it didn't work for that one angel in Dogma, soooo I'm not working too hard.

This blog has gone through at least 3 different colour schemes, 3 different names.  At times (usually when I was supposed to be writing papers) there were multiple times a day.  Occaisionally I would take a few weeks off of entertaining and inspiring.  Most of the time I can adhere to a self imposed Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule (how many brains just exploded when I said that - yup, there is a rhythm to my madness).

The blog has been an updater; a sharing vehicle; an outlet for my angst, rage, sorrow, humour, etc.  I'll admit that the dawn of facebook has hit my numbers.  Though it's not surprising that a blog that has no real point would struggle to survive.

I'll keep posting my brand of humour, biasedly pushing things I'm interested in, and sharing the ridiculous.  Maybe I'll make it to 3000. 

Peace.

So You're A Little Sick Of It

Ok, you don't give two shakes about the Olympics. I can get that. I don't agree with it, but well, you just go ahead and live your empty, meaningless life.

Anyhoo, I thought I'd give you a link to a site that will give you some great advice and has nothing to do with sport.

7 Reasons To Keep Your Tyrannosaur Off Crack Cocaine

Just In Case You Hadn't Been Creeped Out Recently

A Little Different Than Earworm

I have this funny little habit. Ok, I have thousands of funny little habits. But let's focus on just one for this post. The habit of focus is this - sometimes when I see something (and label it) or think about something very specific, the term or label pops into a song that fits the syllables of the term. That explanation was kind of convoluted, so let me share an example.

Sunday evening I was standing out on my porch and I saw a couple walking by. The female of the couple was wearing skinny jeans. I identified them as such. Then in my head I started singing (to the tune of Silver Bells), "skiiiny jeaaans, skuh-innny jeansss, it's Christmas time by the bay-ay." I'll share a couple of others to prove that it is indeed a quirk of mine.

One day after a particularly enraging meeting I was walking home singing Zippidy Doo Dah in my head. But the lyrics, uh, well, I'll use a rhyming word, it went like this: "duckity, duck, duck, duckity yeah...". Or last week (this one's a little different) I was getting ready to go out for Chinese with my friend Linda and my head took the tune from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat and started going "Go, go, go Linda, you know what they say. Hang on now Linda you'll make it someday. Sha-la-la Linda, you're doing fine. You and your dreamcoat ahead of your time!"

Does anyone else do this?

Equation

1 Friday afternoon + 1 roommate's hair extentions + coffee grounds + vapo rub = Dwayne

Just A Reminder To...

Laura The Merciful

If I ever need to send underlings to collect things for me, I think I'm going to hire this cat...

"It seems that the time has come for you to repay your loan. Laura the Merciful requires your cooperation in this."

"I see. You do not *have* the money. Ms. Merciful has given me the authority to strongly encourage you to *find* the money."

Plucked From My Head

While looking at blades that have grown too long,
do you ever have the urge to braid your lawn?

Testing, Testing

If you're on facebook you may have been subjected to a barrage of requests asking you to take quizzes testing your knowledge of friends and family. I'm proud to say that I have managed not to take any of these quizzes. But I can say that I am intrigued by them. Every so often I like to give my loyal blog readers an edge over facebook peeps.

In that spirit, I am creating a "How Well Do You Know Lstew? quiz right here, right now. Read the questions, jot down your answers somewhere and on Friday I'll post the answers. There will be a prize (or prizes) based on scores.

1. What year was I born?
2. What city was I born in?
3. How many children are in my family?
4. Where do they live?
   
5. What is my favourite colour?
6. What is my favourite sport?
7. How many citizenships do I have?
8. What is my favourite animal?
9. What colour is the stone in my nose ring?
10. How many piercings do I have?
11. How many tattoos do I have?
12. What were my high schools sports teams named? (like Spartans or Pioneers)
13. Excluding Canada, how many countries have I set foot in?
14. How many times have I been engaged?
15. Though what did I become a Christian? (although the Holy Spirit is technically a correct answer, it is not the one I'm looking for here)
16. Who is my favourite jazz artist?
17. Who is my favourite theologian?
18. What was the name of my first car?
19. What major(s) and minor(s) did I graduate with?
20. What year did I graduate from university?
21. If you know, I'll give you a hug to not tell anyone what year I graduated from high school.
22. Name 3 things I'm allergic to.
23. What is my favourite drink (I'll accept one of 3 answers here - or all three for bonus points)?
24. What is my favourite type of non-anglo food (or "ethnic" food)?
25. Name 4 jobs I've had since I left high school.
    

She's A Little Curvy

(a wee creation of mine: one tea light, one mini pair of vice grips, one cork, one cork screw, one crazy woman)

Where Was I When That Happened?

I was washing my hands after urinating this evening and looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed that one corner of my "eye skin" was all dark. I mentally chastised myself for having got my eye region so dirty and not realized it. Thusly, I began to try and wash away the dark spot. It turned out not to be dirt, grease or sin, but bruising. I have a partial black eye and NO idea how it got like that. Zero.

It's just a little guy, but still so strange.


I'll let you know if baby spiders hatch out of it, or if the police show up at my door looking for a statement.

Alexander

This is one of my neighbourhood friends, Alexander. He's friendly and almost assuredly full of lead paint.

The Natural Order Of Things