I’m not obsessed with “Which X Are You?” tests — Kelly’s actually the queen of that — but I couldn’t resist the Which FARK Cliche Are You? test.
(If you’re not familiar with FARK, check it out.)
My result:
Other possible results include Domo-Kun, Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars, The Guy From Memento, The Mustard Guy and of course, The Too-Cute Kitty. Notably absent are those poster children for spoiled kids trying to act “street”, the Icy Hot Stuntaz.
Okay, it’s a dumb title. It sounded clever to me in the shower. (And yes, that’s the way you spell it.)
Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve received about a dozen emails asking if I’m doing anything differently as a result of the SARS outbreak. With all the coverage of Toronto and SARS in the media, I suppose it’s easy for someone to think of Toronto as a city beseiged by plague, but from it doesn’t seem that way to me.
I live a mere two blocks away from Queen and Spadina, an intersection of two of Accordion City’s most interesting streets that forms a nexus of several neighbourhoods: the bohemian boutique-y neighbourhood to the west, a yuppified boutique-y neighbourhood and the financial district to the east, the club district to the southeast, the warehouse loft conversion district to the southwest, the waterfront to the south, the University of Toronto to the northeast, downtown Chinatown to the north and Kensington Market, Little Italy and Little Portugal to the northeast. This corner is under the ever-watchful eyes of Max’s hot dog cart, which is open twenty-four hours a day, closing only for Christmas (Toronto’s hot dog carts easily trump those of New York City — ours are real sausages as opposed to their piddly Oscar Mayer offerings; while they boil or steam theirs, we barbecue ours; in New York, you’re lucky if you get more than just ketchup, mustard and relish, here in Toronto, we get dozens of toppings). If you want a gauge of Accordion City’s leisure mood, just come to my neighbourhood on a Saturday afternoon or evening.
The weekend was gorgeous, with spring-like temperatures, budding trees and cloudless skies. I spent Saturday afternoon wandering about my neighbourhood and part of Sunday afternoon in High Park. Both were filled with teeming crowds, and I didn’t see a single N95 mask.
SARS didn’t scare away anyone from the opening of the X-Men 2 movie this weekend. The theatre was pretty crowded. (I saw it on Friday with Paul and Hector and on Saturday with Paul, Deenster, her boyfriend Chris, Possum and Cory Doctorow. Great fun.)
I did a little busking over the weekend, and I’m pleased to report that the accordion is still more infectious than SARS.
Not everyone was out enjoying the gorgeous weather, but they were outside, in a manner of speaking:
…nobody, that is, except for Mr. T, in Mr. T.’s Storm Chase School. Funny and educational!
[Thanks to FARK for the link.]
Last night, after the 2003 edition of Iron Chef White Trash (where I played the role of Chairman Kaga — here are the 2000 photos), the friend whom I brought along turned to me and said “It’s nice to have a funny evening out with someone who isn’t…broken.”
Things have been a little twisted lately. While I’m pretty sure I’m not broken, I’m certainly feeling dinged. Or would the correct word be scratched? Or scuffed?
Perhaps I should hit the pub and get bent or hammered. (It is Cinco de Mayo, after all…)
The weather in Accordion City is lovely (it could stand to be a little warmer), and I also have some chores to do. Enjoy the weekend!
I love you, really, I do. I’m even the direct descendent of an American from Dayton, Ohio (actually, he was from Eaton, Ohio, which is just outside Dayton). You know, the home of Vicky von Vicky jeans in that one episode of WKRP.
You get lots of things right. Rock and Roll. The Internet. Diet Coke. The Constitution. Sara Lee chocolate-covered cheesecake bites. Women’s sufferage. Plentiful air conditioning. The civil rights movement. Lots of ice cubes in drinks. New York City. The Daily Show. Inspiring the lyrics to AC/DC’s greatest rock anthem. Occasionally doing the Philippines a favour (getting rid of the Japanese occupation, making the Philippines the Asian hub for FedEx). Allowing me to live the lyrics to AC/DC’s greatest rock anthem. Freedom.
America, you’re my friend. And friends can talk honestly with each other, right? You’ve been acting a little weirdly lately — and not in the good way. Here’s the latest sign: U.S. says Canada cares too much about liberties.
Is everything all right?
While I’m on the topic of dating: I’m still getting linked to from other blogs about the New Girl story. From some pretty big names in the blogosphere, no less — Asparagirl has just linked to the story, driving my hits up once again. I’m going to have to pay my Web hosting company a little extra money this month, but it’s nothing that 15 minutes of accordion playing on a good night couldn’t fix.
I’m also still getting lots of nice emails from strangers sending their condolences, offering free beer and wishing me well in general. Thanks, everybody!
Some of you have been asking if I’ve seen or heard from New Girl. Here’s the latest:
There’s only “injury” here because the “victim” had his/her own expectations of the duper. I’ve known better dupers than the one he met – I see no need for moral outrage. The only people they “injure” are people who want something from them, and don’t get it [or don’t get it back once they give it]. And pointing out double standards between the sexes is not a “man-vs-woman” thing, it’s just an individual opinion thing. Oh but sorry to interrupt the flow of the moral condemnation for “bad behaviour”. I realize that’s important to some of you… so please… resume the ‘tsk tsk’ talk n’ the public flogging of this evil spidery deceitful wench… I’ll piss off.
Sorry Joey I hadn’t seen your last post. I’m glad you’re starting to see that I wasn’t “relishing in your pain” [you were a hypothetical stranger when I first commented] but rather simply taking issue with this woman [or anyone] being tarred n’ feathered online for doing what seemed [from your own account] like little more than masterfully lying to you about her identity and *not* living up to your romantic expectations [annoying yet somewhat benign in and of itself]. It seemed to me a double standard to condemn her as some kind of harpy, since… when men do the same as her, it’s passed off as mere “bad boy” behaviour. As for her criminal record and “bad behaviour” – I still feel that’s for the law to decide, not rumour mills and virtual stoning [which is what is happening – even if her ID is withheld]. I don’t know this woman. Hell – *you* don’t know this woman either by what you describe. And me – I was simply uncomfortable with the idea that I was expected to fall in line and throw another rock at her. I admire her guts and her obvious talent – that doesn’t mean I’m glad she hurt you. I see you as partly to blame for your own situation – that also doesn’t mean I think you “deserved” it and it also doesn’t mean I’m glad she hurt you. Brief – more personal responsibility – less rock throwing.
I never “relished” in Joey’s pain – I merely celebrated power in un-expected places. You think the world owes you the “truth”?
I won’t link to the comments directly, because they’re from someone else’s blog, and I don’t want to start scrapping there. Blogs are people’s homes on the Web, and you don’t bring fights to other people’s homes.
As for New Girl’s one and only fan, a little advice: when you live in a moral vaccuum, you cannot help but suck. Make good on your promise and piss off, willya?