Google is like the top 40 of people

Congratulations Paul!

A.D.D. post #1 for 2009. (Don't get excited)

I first thought that no one read this blog. Then I thought only a couple of friends read this blog. Now it seems there is a human being who shouldn't be reading my blog, yet, they are. I don't know what I could be saying that would interest him/her. I do not lead a sit-com style life like Paul Warford. I just really like SNL.

I am considering placing this piece of literary trash in some kind of "lock mode". I find this ridiculous. I never wanted to know who was reading my blog. If I know who you are, then I have apologize to you for having wasted your time reading my bullshit every time I see you. I guess you'll know if I do this.
I know other people that do this with their blog. Perhaps they could give me tips on how to set up/run this efficiently.

My posts are becoming less and less frequent. It's not that I am abandoning this project. It was a combination of me having continuous sex and not-continuous internet. One of those things has changed. I bought a router.

Earlier this fall, I was writing comedy pieces. I will never perform them. For one, I can't deliver them. I stop and do "um"s and "err"s. Secondly, I told a joke that I was sure was funny to Syrup Turnip and she didn't bat an eye. Immediately started talking about something else. I wasn't hurt. I just knew right then and there that it wasn't my thing. It was about sports, on television. Maybe the wrong crowd to pitch the idea? Whatever.

I can't recall telling you guys to listen to something for a while. Here's a band that is broke up and never released a record. In fact, this may be the only recording of their music in existence.

The Haters - Wrapped






Being a gentleman is understanding when "no" is the answer, accepting it, then moving on to other things.

Fruit on the bottom, Hair on top.

Paul Warford and Sarah Turpin showed up as my house on Thursday afternoon. They do that. I don't mind. They sit to the table and make fake lesson plans. This day it was different. Warford was doing the funny-ha-ha racket downtown that night and he was supposed to pose as Mitch Hedburg. The Afro wasn't making it convincing. Turpin was going to straighten his hair. I have seen pics of Warford with straight hair and it looks unnatural. Like two-headed dog unnatural. With their combined dedication and willpower, they got about half-way through before deciding that they didn't want to do it anymore and decided that just wearing aviator glasses was convincing enough. He did the voice pretty well, and told half-jokes. That's dedication.

Sunday night Whinos

Here I am at the beginning of September. The unofficial last day of summer. "Good riddence" I says. This has certainly been a summer to forget. Especially since the highlights of the summer include discovering the Boone's Chug and having a drunk girl in Goose Bay try to give me a handjob in the middle of a crowded bar.
I didn't have sex either. Me and David Duchovny should hang out. I could straighten him out. This is the longest time I have gone without having sex since I lost my virginity. It actually doesn't bother me that much. I have been stood up too many times recently to give a shit about women right now.

Enough of the chickenshit-bullshit. Let's talk about this weekend... weeee!
I didn't go into work on Friday. I had an appointment that morning and took the day off to go to it. This meant I could sleep in a little later. I ended up at The Ship on Thursday night. Cherie Pyne released a CD there that night. I bought the CD. Unfortunately, most of the songs that she played that I had enjoyed were on one or more of her previous records. Paul Warford told me an attractive girl was giving me the up and down while we were there. He did not tell me this though until we were in the car, on the way home. "Thanks, shithead" I said. If she was hanging out at The Ship, I would say that she was a little too artsy for me. She's the kind of girl who wouldn't have sex with me because I once ate beef jerky. Get over it. Vegetables aren't everything.
Friday night was at Robert Shandera's house. He turned 27 this weekend and he invited a crowd over to celebrate. Robert Shandera invited many single women to his party. A true pal. None of these girl showed up though. They all went to send a girl off to Australia. It was just as well. It was lost. It was a boy's night. I did a Boone's chug. Kirk and Miranda showed up and announced their engagment. That just leaves Me, Warford and Pike.
Saturday was one of the days the three of us will talk about years from now. Shandera, Warford and myself drove out to Spaniard's Bay to get fitted for our tuxedos for Shandera's wedding. We walk in and tell the missus who were are and what we are doing there and she goes around the corner to get nice clothes for us to try on. We wander the shop, making fun of silly dresses and trying on top hats. Me and warford are in a corner where there is a mannequin wearing a wedding dress. I walk up behind the headless woman and start grinding her. I turn on my camera and tell warford to make love to the lifeless form. He gets behind the mannequin, places his hands on her hips and starts thrusting, much to our delight. Missus comes back around the corner and shouts "Get outta dat!" Laughter ensues. Missus goes back around the corner and warford makes his way towards the mannequin and whispers "c'mon, c'mon get a shot of this hee hee" He resumes thrusting the mannequin from behind when the missus comes around the corner and catches him doing it AGAIN! Missus bawls out: "Now Paul, what would yer mudder think if she knew you were doin' dat!?" I really wish I had a movie of the whole thing. Still photography will have to do.

After we get fitted and we see our parents, we go to Ernie Green's for a feed of chicken, potato and lard. A tasty treat. My car still smells like garlic and savory.
Saturday night was full of inspiration. I was hungry and my eyes could have used visine....
Sunday was Robert's birthday. We decided to go to comedy and then hit the street for tomfoolery. Comedy was pretty good. There was a girl there who i had not seen before. Her name was Mikaela and she was funny. Not a typical female comedian. Nothing was typical about her. She was funny (duh), smart and absolutely attractive in my eyes. Warford told me she had perfomed here before but hadn't been around in a long time. After the show I went up and talked to her in an attempt to find out more about this woman that intrigued me so much. Turns out she hadn't done comedy in a while at the Victory because she lives in fucking Toronto and is home for a few days. Alas, my world continues to spin on.
We leave the comedy 3/4 of the way cocked. We immediately turn into a dark alley where myself and warford take turns drinking a bottle of homemade wine from his father. This is where the night goes downhill for me. We end up at Greensleeves downing pint after pint and shouting requests to the poor musician on the stage. "Play Metallica! I bet you can't fucking play Metallica!" He did. On an acoustic guitar no less. I don't remember much about leaving. A friend of a friend saw me and later said "I wasn't fit and could barely stand up" That sounds about right.
We are walking down the street and I see I girl I know. For a while I had an interest in her. That's a different story. Anyways, I approach her and say "hello". She looks up and gives a cheerful "Hi" that she is known for. It is at this point I realize how drunk I am really am. I don't know what to do. So I tell her the truth'
"Uh, I'm too drunk to talk to you right now" I say. Then walk away.
I guess I won't be calling her anytime soon.
I then ate a hotdog, went home and threw up. First time in a long time. I was due. I needed that hangover too. Made me realize the messes I am putting myself in.

Stand up and explain yourself

There were conflicting messages in my entry-before-last and the one before that. I didn't realize that until today. Although they conlfict, they both have aspects that are true. I'm still gonna enjoy the sundresses (even though summer is just about over) but I'm not gonna sweat it either. You can wear a sundress and strut over and see me. We'll see what happens.

I have been thinking about doing a stand-up comedy routine. I have thought of some bits that i would like to use. I thought of not doing it because comedy is Paul Warford's thing and I didn't want to take is thing. I have since realized that he is so much better than I'll ever be and I'll have no fear of even holding a candle to him.

Like Sailors....

Stories are sometimes funnier when you don't tell the whole thing.. You don't bore the person by telling them the unfunny bits... Example:
- Me and Warford decided to get drunk one night. We did. We went downtown with a bunch of girls. We ditched the girls. We end up on a boat. Drinking and getting drunker in St. John's harbour.
Maybe that story wasn't so funny. It is still better without the drama mixed in. There was moderate drama mixed with the evening. it was a good thing we drank. a lot.
When me and warford used to drink a lot I used to go into his laundry room and put on one of the many hats that were down there. I'd wear the cowboy hat and do this. There are pictures of me doing that.
Speaking of funny, I went to comedy @ The Victory on Sunday night... Everything was funny. Warford killed. This is because he remembered what he was supposed to say on stage which is an accomplishment for him because he sometimes forgets that he has to take a shit. I'm no better. I just don't get up in a room full of people and forget things.
I think this should be on a list of funniest things I have seen on the internet..

Youd Shouldn't Need to Laugh

Corky is a shitty name. That's why I thought that "Life Goes On" was such a pile of shit. I can only imagine what should have happened in real life...
DOCTOR: I have examined your new-born boy and and I am happy to say that he is perfectly healthy. We have also determined that the baby has Down's Syndrome. You both are excellent parents and I think that you'll both be able to provide the special care necessary and be able to nurture the boy and have him live to his full potential. What are you going to call him?"
PARENTS: Corky.
DOCTOR: Get the fuck outta this room! You should be ashamed of yourselves. Kids are cruel ya know. It's going to be hard enough having to grow up with Down's. You are going to call him Corky now and make sure he never has any friends? I'm calling the cops.

This is how it plays out in my head. I laugh at myself.. kinda like Jimmy Fallon. Did he ever do a sketch without laughing? People say he was the funniest performer on SNL in years but I don't think you would have laughed at a lot of his sketches if he didn't bust out laughing during his lines and make everyone else in the sketch laugh.
Check out this tune. We played with these guys at a battle of the bands once... It was like, their first or second ever show. They played one song twice because they didn't know any more. Not very good when you are playing a 6 song set. I think they still won... They are that good. Good bands can do that and get away with it.