November, 2010

Field Guide to Weirdos

Sitting in a Tree Weirdo

Family/Genus: “I want attention for being weird” weirdos
Habitat: Any area with low-slung tree branches.  Usually Trinity-Bellwoods Park, or the big field in front of CAMH
Markings: Brown puffer jacket
Voice: Hard to hear at first, the “Sitting in a Tree Weirdo” hums the theme song of “Step by Step” starring Suzanne Somers under his breath until an unsuspecting mother with child wanders under his “branch”. Then he suddenly sings at the top of his lungs in an attempt to scare the mother and traumatize the child for the rest of his/her life.
Other Identifying Characteristics: Sometimes, the “Sitting in a Tree” weirdo will just sit across from your condo building… watching your window… and humming other television theme songs from the circa 1998 TGIF line-up. 

Singing Loudly in Public Areas Weirdo

Family/Genus: “I want attention for being weird” weirdos
Habitat: Wide radius of nesting, this weirdo can camouflage himself easily – both within the most affluent of neighbourhoods and within less developed areas
Markings: Usually holding a back issue of “Now” (to check for auditions), wearing a black turtleneck, and overly-coiffed hair.
Voice: The “Singing Loudly in Public Areas Weirdo” is proud of his singing voice, and is not afraid to use time in public areas to perfect his craft.  Usually, he finds that singing very loudly is perfectly acceptable in the following environments: a crowded mall; a silent streetcar during rush-hour; a busy street on a Saturday afternoon, etc.  I mean, come on.  Why waste time conforming to social morés when you can polish up your rendition of “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” before your audition for an off-off-off broadway version of Les Mis?
Other Identifying Characteristics: An inability to recognize his own failure as an actor/singer/performer. 

Screaming at the Rim of the Dog Bowl Weirdo

Family/Genus: “I am actually insane” weirdos
Habitat: This weirdo can be spotted across the entire stretch of Queen Street, but centers his habitat around the 7-Eleven at Queen and Walnut, and is often seen walking at the top of the dog bowl in Trinity Bellwoods
Markings: Red and Navy Blue K-Way-ish jacket, full “Joaquin Phoenix as a crazy person” beard, and navy trucker hat
Voice: Loud and raspy, the “Screaming at the Rim of the Dog Bowl Weirdo” likes to describe his conspiracy theories very loudly with minimal clarity as he paces back and forth across the top of the dog bowl in Trinity Bellwoods park.   

Walks Up To You in the Elevator and Stands Really Close To You Weirdo

Family/Genus: “My Mother Didn’t Raise Me Right” weirdos
Habitat: The elevator at my work.
Markings: Early 80’s red suit jacket and frizzy blonde hair.
Voice: No voice.
Other Identifying Characteristics: This chick comes right up to yo’ face and just stands like, 6 inches away from you, facing you and staring at your face.  Fucking weird. 

Talking Into his Hand Like It’s a Cell Phone Weirdo

Family/Genus: “Strung out on drugs” weirdos
Habitat: This weirdo is only rarely seen and has a wide range in the west end.  Minimal sightings have occurred, since he has to actually be talking into his “hand-phone” to be identified.
Markings: Various
Voice: When talking into his “hand-phone”, the “Talking Into his Hand Like It’s a Cell Phone Weirdo” often screams absurdities that have no logical foundation.  Sometimes, he screams out recipes for pancakes, and other times, he can be heard describing “punks”. 

Talks to you Like You’re His Friend Weirdo

Family/Genus: “I don’t have any friends” weirdos
Habitat: Any sort of public area, but the “Talks to you Like You’re His Friend” weirdo really prefers public transportation.  This usually means you’re trapped next to him for at least a few stops, so he can tell you his life story, including any gross contagious sicknesses he has.
Markings: Varied
Voice: This weirdo’s voice is usually pretty high-pitched and continuous.  You can’t get him to stop talking.  Even if you say that you are listening to your ipod.  Even if you say that you are getting off at the next stop and actually get out of your seat.  Even if you tell him that a bear mauled you when you were young and you can no longer hear out of your left ear.  They still talk.
Other Identifying Characteristics: Sometimes, they have boogers hanging out of their nose that jiggle when they talk to you.  And you’re too polite to say anything.  And it’s horrible. 

Leering Weirdo

Family/Genus: “My Mother Didn’t Raise Me Right” weirdos
Habitat: Usually found on public transportation, these weirdos can also be seen standing in front of Portuguese sports bars on Dundas Street at around 3:00 pm on Sundays.
Markings: Varied, but usually wearing really light-washed baggy jeans and an old “Chicago Bulls” sweatshirt with the cuffs all raggedy. 
Voice: The “Leering Weirdo” does not have a voice.

Posted in Makes Me Frown, Randomness, Wisdom 1 Comment »

Current Man Crush

Those of you who know me also know that I have an intense, deep-seeded hatred for Nicolas Cage.  I think that he is unattractive, a horrible, horrible actor, and “sells out” in every single movie that he takes on.  I mean, he’s cast in the exact same role in every single movie and he makes absolutely NO effort to take on interesting or challenging roles.  I always thought that he was the most overrated actor in all of Hollywood.

HOWEVER.  Yesterday, while I was figuring out what to wear, I saw that Moonstruck was on TV.  I remember liking that movie, so I put it on.  Then I discovered:

Nicolas Cage in Moonstruck is mind-blowingly sexy. 

Like, I had to stop getting ready and kneeled on the floor in front of the TV, mesmerized by his sexiness.  So much so, that I was late meeting Marg for dinner.  When I finally did get to dinner, I spent PROBABLY 1 hour gushing over how sexy Nicolas Cage was in the film Moonstruck.  Like… SEXY.  (p.s. Marg… I’m sorry.)  I spent some time thinking about it today, because I find it fascinating that Nicolas Cage as Ronny Cammareri is like, the perfect man, but Nicolas Cage in every other component of his life is the source of overwhelming hatred.  Here is what I came up with:

1. He is naturally and casually good looking, and not a skeletal shell of a man with devil-like features covered in leathery skin like he is now:

2. His character is this perfect balance of sensitivity, inner pain, and animalistic raw sex:

So when you first meet him, Ronny is in the basement of a bakery, sweaty and angry, throwing bread into a huge stone oven.  Then, you find out about how his fiancee left him for his brother and since then, he has allowed his anger to consume him… then he seduces Cher and falls in love with her.  THEN, he tells her about how much he loves opera and takes her to the opera in a tuxedo. 

Like, what?  Keep me guessing why don’t you, Ronny Cammareri.  I dare any woman to watch Ronny in his wife beater, talking about sex and opera and NOT be ready to go.  Right there. 

3. His physical defect mirrors his inner wounds.  And somehow, the fact that he has a wooden hand makes him infinitely more sexy.

Yes.  Sexy-ass wooden hand.  It makes him this totally broken, conflicted and tempestuous figure.  Who is also totally like a sex-wolf.  Like…. jeeeeez.

4.  He is really, really, really convincing when he persuades Cher to come up to his apartment and “get in his bed”:
Ronny Cammareri: “Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn’t know this either, but love don’t make things nice – it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren’t here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and *die*. The storybooks are *bullshit*. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and *get* in my bed!”
I’m sorry.  Firstly, in some kind of stupid, flawed way… that TOTALLY makes sense.  Secondly, if anyone ever said this to me, they’d have to physically restrain me from jumping into bed with them.

Anyways.  One of the best parts about him is that I DON’T KNOW WHY I am so animalistically attracted to him.  Sigh. 

 This is the message that I had to give myself several times last night as I thought and thought and thought of Ronny Cammareri:

Posted in Favorite Things, Vintage Love 1 Comment »

I believe that I am the “hotstepper” identified in this song

… as long as “hotstepper” means something awesome and not something gross/illegal…

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I Feel Like I’m Taking Crazy Pills.

These are things that I really, really, really don’t like, but for some reason, the rest of society is obsessed with them.  It makes me feel like I’m taking crazy pills.  Then I become afraid to tell people that I don’t like these things, because I start to become paranoid that I’m a weirdo who doesn’t like the same things as the rest of normal society and I’m slowly descending into an inevitable downward spiral  into insanity.  So I decided to bite the crazy-person bullet tell people that I don’t like them.  Just in case I regress into dementia too quickly for the source to be clearly identified.

1.  How I Met Your Mother
I do not like this show.  I mean, I guess, like one out of every 35 jokes makes me smile slightly, but I don’t see why people LOVE it so much.  It’s a typical sit-com-ish show, with stupid writing and laugh tracks and shit.  Like, they could have released this exact same show ten years ago, and it would be the exact same jokes and the same characters and you could have just replaced that tall oaf-ish guy with Matthew Perry, and the ugly brown-haired guy with that kid from 3rd Rock from the Sun, and that red-haired girl with the losery girl from Buffy the Vampire Slayer…. wait.   Scratch that.  Anyways.   IT’S JUST A SHOW LIKE EVERY OTHER SHOW.   I feel like I’m taking fucking crazy pills, here!

2. Glee
YES, OK?  I don’t like Glee.  HOW IS THIS SHOW NOT JUST A PUFFED-UP IMITATION OF THE MINI-POPS???  I don’t GET it.  How does no one see this?  Meh?  MEEEEEH! 
Listen.  I really like musicals and songs and stuff, but this show makes me perma-uncomfortable.  Like, every time they start singing I get super awkward like I’m watching two people on a first date and it’s going horribly, horribly wrong.  Plus, that lead chick is really annoying.  I’ll grant you that Canadian guy is pretty hot, even in his stupid-guy character.  I could watch his brow furrow over 9th grade math problems all day… wait.  That sounds pervy.  And if that show RUINS one more song that I like, I might just throw a boot into my television.  How could anyone think that Heart or The Pretenders or The Police or John Lennon or EVEN Beyonce sounds better when sung by a group of pre-pubescent, flash-in-the-pan horrible singer-actors??  It’s like the Mini-Pops all over again!  I FEEL LIKE I’M TAKING CRAZY PILLS, HERE!

3. 3D Movies
Dude, do my eyeballs have different mechanistic properties than the rest of the human race?  When I go to the movies and watch 3D movies, only the very center of the screen is in focus.  The whole peripheral of the screen is all fuzzy and difficult to watch, and it HURTS MY EYEBALLS.  Of course, you can’t take off the glasses, because if you do, then the whole retarded THING is all fuzzy, and my eyeballs hurt.  It’s like I’m stuck in a horrible, horrible cage of eyeball pain for two hours.  Plus, I don’t know if they realize that a large percentage of the human race needs to wear glasses to see, but the stupid aerodynamic, circa 2001 Oakley-shaped 3D glasses DO NOT FIT over my glasses, and keep slipping down my nose.  It’s so completely uncomfortable.   IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I’M TAKING CRAZY PILLS!

Posted in Makes Me Frown, Musicality, Wisdom 3 Comments »

Clearly… much too much

Posted in Musicality 1 Comment »

Sunday Cocoon

This weekend was, I have been told, a full moon.
Yeah. It felt like one.
So made a concerted effort to be a homebody on Sunday night and cocoon myself from any possible additional weirdness.

I felt like I needed some serious-ass, HARD-CORE doo-wop.  Yes, that’s right.  I love it, and I haven’t fed my addition for a few weeks.  Doo-wop makes me feel so warm and cozy and full of hope.  So… enjoy.

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First, I decided to hang a small illustration by my super-talented and sexy-ass friend Tami. I fuggggging love it. I can’t wait until she starts working on my other piece. Yeah, that’s right. I commissioned art. I’M A BIG DEAL.


Then, I made a HUGE delicious antipasti spread. I love antipasti – it’s like all of my favorite things, all torn apart into pieces that I can smear and pile on top of each other in different combinations. Yum. And wine. Yum.

I made a pretty delicious mushroom topping for my bread-stuffs… it’s- pretty simple.  Just throw mushrooms, green onion, garlic, salt, and thyme in a pan and cook that shit UP.   Goes well with goat cheese, in case you’re wondering.

Molly seemed to enjoy the periodic cheese treats and doo wop music… she wallowed into an adorable, stinky sleep on the couch.

Now, let’s take a moment to mentally chuck some really good karma towards next week so that it turns out awesome.  Please.

Posted in Delicious Food, Favorite Things 3 Comments »


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How to Judge a Man Based on His Beer


Listen.  I don’t want to be all judgey, but I KNOW that men judge each other based on the beer that they select at the bar.  It’s pretty obvious that there is this ridiculous, unspoken hierarchy of beer that forms the foundation of the man-kingdom.  Well, GUESS WHAT?  Chicks judge you, too.  Especially chicks like me, who really like their beer.  So far, in my many years amassing knowledge in this veiled and complex science, I have formulated the following observations.  Here are a handful of beers and their respective “Man-Types”: 

Steam Whistle
Hello.  I am in College, or wish I were still in College, when people who drank Steam Whistle were seen as cool because at that time, it was a “craft brew”. Basically, I want people to think that I’m a big man who can handle a beer that tastes like asparagus piss, so I’m drinking a Steam Whistle. It tastes like asparagus piss, so I must be a BIG MAN.  Asparagus Piss. 

I am a hipster from 2006.  

I am a hipster from 2007.  

Molson Stock Ale
I have much body hair and enjoy a beer that, based on the label, has the appearance of a 1970’s dark “gasoline” brew, but is actually quite smooth on the pipes. I might talk to you about deer… but not hunting deer… instead about the new concept ‘Canadiana’ restaurant on Dundas West that serves braised deer.  

Keiths, Canadian, Export, et al.
… really?  Natalie’s in the wrong bar, obviously. 

… see above… 

I am one of those douchers who likes getting the big Hoegaarden “trough” glass because it looks like I’m drinking SO MUCH MORE BEER THAN YOU ARE.  Plus I feel like SUCH a hilarious, hilarious funny hilarious guy when I order it and (incorrectly) say “Hoe”.
** Note from Natalie – It’s pronounced “hoo-gar-duhn”, not HOE-Garden.  You tool. 

Mill St. Organic
Natalie loves you. Let’s make out.  

Craft Brews
I am a big deal.  I am a beer connoisseur, you know.  I have visited the finest breweries in the bowels of Poland, Albania, and Tukmenistan, and have returned with the knowledge that other men would give their right testicle for.  Based on all of my beer knowledge, it is not the *scoff* big breweries that know how to brew beer.  It is Hamshifef, the small, amputee craft brew master in Albania who uses urine from the toilets of virgins to brew his delicious suds.
** A quick point from Natalie here… although many craft beers are good, why pay $8.00 for an obscure beer when you can spend $8.00 and get an MGD for both yourself AND NATALIE?? 

Rickards OR Dos Equis
I want to have the appearance of knowing about beer, but I just order whichever beer I think has the best commercial.  

Saint Andre
Natalie loves you. Let’s make out  

I DON’T KNOW IF YOU NOTICED, BUT I’M DRINKING GUINESS. I’M SUCH A BIG MAN. LOOK, YOU CAN’T EVEN SEE THROUGH THIS SHIT! I’m going to be pretty gassy later, though… like, atom-bomb farts.  So yeah.  Big man. 

Natalie loves you. Let’s make out.

Posted in Randomness, Things, Wisdom 5 Comments »

I Want.

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Sexy Tuesday Foodstuffs

Here is my current favorite healthy meal.  Plus, the white bean dip lasts like, a whole week!

Tilapia with Leek and White Bean Puree and Teryaki Mushrooms:

Buy some tilapia and put that shit in the oven at 425 degrees for 20 mins, flipping once.  It’s DID.

Leek and White Bean Puree
This shite is the best.  You can use it as a puree on fish or chicken, or as a dip, or as a topping on salad… full of protein and tastiness.  I make a LOT so that I can save it for the rest of the week.  It’s actually ridiculous how much I make.

  • 5 cloves of garlic
  • 3-4 Leeks
  • 2 cans White Beans
  • 1 cup-ish Vegetable Stock
  • White Wine
  • Thyme
  • Salt and Pepper
  • Olive Oil or Butta
  • Your Sexiness (optional)

Anyhoo, mince about 5 cloves of garlic reaaal small and sautee it in some olive oil or butta, whatever your little heart desires.  This is going to smell delicious:

Then, throw in about 3-4 chopped up leeks in the pot (also throw in the thyme… but I forgot it here… but throw it in…):

Let them simmer until they’re soft and limp and creamy… Yeah.  Sexual references there.  Then chuck in the beans after you have rinsed off all the bean-juice/preservative jizzum from the can:

Throw in the cup of wine and vegetable stock, until the beans are juuuust about covered… but not completely covered.  Then let it simmer all aggressively until the beans get all soft and limp… Yeah.  Sexual reference there.  Then MASH ‘EM UP.  MASH THOSE FUCKERS UP:

Mmmmmmmm.  Mashed beans.  Then, throw in some more thyme and the salt and pepper, then let it simmer until it gets all thick and creamy and soft and limp and full of cream.  DELICIOUS.

Teriyaki Mushrooms
These are really good and are pretty healthy. 

  • Mushrooms (whatever kind you like)
  • Teriyaki
  • Brown Sugar

Chop up those mushrooms and throw them in a non-stick pan:

Then, after things get all toasty in the pan, put in the teriyaki.  Let the mushrooms get a little soft, droopy, creamy and limp… Yeah. 

Then, after the softness consumes the mushrooms with tender, sweet, hot, sweaty love, sprinkle about 1 tablespoon of brown sugar over them.  Such sweet love:

Now, all you have to do it plop it together on a plate!

OH NO!  I forgot my sweet basil garnish!


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