p.s.

Ethical delimma - I wil save the history of how I found myself in the blogspere for later, because that is also an interesting story, but generically, the story is like this: Someone I know was searching for song lyrics on the internet, and some how came across a certain blog, and sent me the link saying "I was looking for the words to song x, and came across THIS" and it was this blog post and so I laughed, read it a bit wondering how the two were related, and then forwarded the link to a couple people saying "X was looking for song lyrics, and this came up, weird" and then soon we were all reading it compulsively. Then the blogger changed sites and so one of the people, Lulu let's call her, emails the blogger for the new url and then gave it to me, and on and on it went. Well then I started blogging and commenting on this blogger's posts, and sort of got to know blogger a little, and I don't really talk to Lulu much now but every couple months Lulu and I email and the last time she said "yeah, it's so bad not to read the blogger now" and I am sitting on the url to the site, but I don't want to send it because if Lulu reads my comments, she might read my blog, put two and two together and figure out it's me, and then it will be "you've blogged for almost 2 years and didn't say anything?" or I'd feel censored in what I say because then I'd think "if Lulu tells so and so and I say something about so and so that we know in common...." so it's tricky. SO, ethical dilemma is whether or not I tell Lulu or not that I read the blogger still.... HMMMM, I will have to cogitate on that one for a while....
night.

A Whole post diverted by The View

Happy Halloween y'all! It's colder than a witch's titty here, let me tell ya, but no snow yet, knock wood. Flurries, but that's it. I am left in the house with, oh, approximately 90 chocolate bars left over, God help me. I ate I don't know how many tonight and I am supposed to get my blood taken Thursday morning for my check up on Monday, and I know it will be like gravy floating through my veins, so this is going to be a lecture I don't want to hear, but I suppose I need to hear it. I just keep thinking "I am almost 40, when all the shit happens to people" so if he tells me I am getting fat again and high lipids and such again, well, I better fucking pony up and deal with it. I really wanted to smoke last night - just the worst instinct to go buy a pack and chain smoke them in the backyard, but no fucking way, no way, no how. I never want to be lying there with lung cancer thinking "I could be out running marathons with Oprah and spending 30 more years on earth with my loved ones, if only I saved myself a couple thousand dollars a year and stopped smoking." It was just a fleeting craving - I was really upset with more parental drama that was just sort of thrown on me (I really don't want to talk about it - someday I'll vent again, but for now, I really just don't want to), but smoking ain't the answer. So, now that I said that public service announcement that is probably driving Margo's eyes into the back of her head, where was I? (Oh Margo, I preach because I love, so suck it up princess, and now that you are in love, I just want us all to be old people annoying Americans when we winter in the same trailer park in Mesa).
Oh, yes, the check up.... I was going to cancel again until I lost 15 lbs, but fuck it, I need him to tell me to do it, to actually be motivated again. Am I the only person who goes for an annual check up? Nobody I know really does, but shouldn't well all be going? Please, make a fucking appointment people.
Wow, ain't I a downer tonight? LOL, I just don't have anything to really say tonight. I watched the View at lunch, and they might as well call it the Rosie show again, because she is in control. She did another Joni Mitchell plug today, which made me smile, but then I get a little defensive thinking "look honey, don't be all 'oh I am the only one who truly digs Joni' because you didn't even know all the songs you were singing to when you had Joni on 10 years ago, and I could beat you in a contest of naming Joni songs any day." Oh, and they had my girl Courtney Love on, who as you know I was a huge fan of for years but fuck, she's either still on drugs or just a bitch whack job. She didnt make sense, and looked like she hated them all, and that Survivor bitch was all nervous. It was kind of funny. I just hate that Survivor bitch - Elizabeth Hassel-whatever. She's so gross and square and just a bitch. I'd love to be the guest host one day, the white Star with a penis spot, and I would delight talking about how in our house, we pop the morning after pill with the vitamins, since we were too frisky for birth control after a rousing night of looking at internet porn and pissing on pictures of George Bush (if you no nothing about Elizabeth, then you won't get any of this). Or I would torture her uptight little persona and blurt out "ELizabeth, you are so nervous today. Do you want to suck on Courtney's titties? Is that it? Because Courtney has seen some fucked up shit in her time, so it wouldn't even bother her if that will make you more relaxed. Courtney, lift up that shirt and give old Lizzie a taste of America's Sweethearts." And you just know Joy would eat it up because she thinks all those ladies as her competition so she'd be all "Go on Elizabeth, just do it and shut the fuck up with your uptightness." And then Rosie would get the laugh with "Elizabeth has now had more experience with women's breasts than Star's husband." And then I'd do my Canadian joke spin on it and blurt out "If you want Elizabeth to stop desiring your boobs, quit cooking with cheese!" Oh man, that whole spiel is only funny to me.
Oh, and Rosie was funny insulting Paris Hilton. She said she is famous for nothing, but she wasn't bad in the porno. LOL, good old Ro. Has anyone actually seen any of these celeb porno things? I have never even seen Pam and Tommy. I did see the Fred Durst thing on a link from something and it was so funny, but that was about it. I used to read the smoking gun all the time for all the dirt on everyone, but there aren't enough hours in the day. But anyway, what do you all care about any of this?
Yesterday marked 9 years since my brother in law suddenly died. I was going to do a whole post about it last night, but then I got distracted with this whole "things are terrible with both mom and dad, what are we going to do" conversation my sister sprung on me at 10 o'clock as we still had ALL THREE kids up and were trying to make fucking cupcakes for the school bake sale, so I didn't want to get into anything else heavy after that. But man, 9 years already. It still seems so unreal. I'll have to add that topic to my list of "entries I have to write". I still haven't had time to write about the internet people I have known and Margo's dance with danger (the Mike story) but I will because they are too good not to. Maybe next time.
Well, this is horribly boring so I will sign off for now.
Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.
xo
JT
p.s. I read a review for Running with Scissors and it said it sucked. I am so bummed.

crazy like a flipping loon, i am

-- Hey hey hey y'all, I'm here to bring sexy BACK, motherfuckers! Yeah! Ok, so I really am not that hyper and have nothing to say, but I thought I would try to pump it up a bit. But I can't get that damn SexyBack out of the ole noggin tonight. It is just driving me crazy because I can't stop singing it over and over in my head.
You know what other song I sort of really am addicted to? "Maneater" by Nelly Furtado, although I have mixed feelings about her. You remember when she had that first album and she was all "I'm like a bird, y'all" and whatever, it wasn't really my cup of tea, that song, although I liked Margo's version with the whole "I don't know where my HOLE is....". I was more partial to "Turn out the Light", the second single, but whatever, she really didn't mean anything to me. Then she did that follow up with the lead single "Powerless" and I have to say that I was VERY impressed with that song and I liked how she just stuck it to the man for, what was it, whitening her color and all that shit in the magazines and I loved the "You tell em, sister!" line of "because this life is too short to live it just for you, so say what you want" and it was a big ass kiss off to the media and the man, and, as Joni says it "the star maker machinery behind the popular song." ANyway, the album tanked, and so I was intrigued to hear she was hooked up with Timbaland or whoever the hell it was with this new album. But, you know, it sort of left a bad taste in my mouth with the whole "Promiscuous Girl" thing because I mean, it's so not her, and it's like she just knew it would get her on the charts, but it sort of compromises everything she just claimed she was about in the last album. I am in no means saying anything, because if you could promise me a hit record, I'd fucking sing about how I love to suck the toes of gay albino midgets with leprosy or do a rap about how I masturbate to pictures of Phyllis Diller without her make-up on riding Merv Griffin with a full face of make-up with Alex Trebeck narrating some dirty talk, while Dyan Cannon strokes her Waddle in time with their love noise, so please, don't get me wrong. I so would be a pop star, current trend whore. I don't blame her for doing the whole dancy, sex singing thing. But it suprises me. And sort of bores me. And sort of lets me down a bit. But again, I'd sell out if I could too. And the maneater song is catchy, catchier than promiscuous girl, because that one was really a lame-o (notice I am tired and not using capitals and quotation marks? I'm a dirty little monkey, aren't I?)
Anyway, it all brings us back again to Bryan Adams. I know I have complained here before about Mr. Adams, but let me say this: I really don't care for anything much of his. I have a soft spot for the Cuts Like a Knife album for sentimental reasons, but Reckless, other than Run to You, I can totally forget, and I downright hate pretty much all of it after that, except for Into the Fire. Anyone remember that one? WELL, lemme talk about it quickly. This was the one where he was all "SERIOUS" - trying to be all Peter Gabriel and U2 like. It was serious, and tried to be thought provoking, and had a couple of his best singles overall, "Heat of the night" and "Hearts on fire" and the title track. Anyway, the serious thing wasn't a good fit at first, and the album sold disappointly and I sort of likened it to Michael J. Fox from when he went from Back to the Future to Light of Day and the Vietnam movie - it didn't work and was sort of painful to watch. BUT you know, Bryan might have been really good if he didn't sell out and do bullshit like 18 til I die. But he sold out and again, I can't blame him. As Joni sang, they got him "used to that clean white linen and that fancy french cologne." And while I would probably do the same thing, it was a disappointment. Just like Nelly. But rock on Nelly, rake in the bucks. As Joni sang, I hope you "are gonna make a lot of money, and gonna quit this crazy scene."
Wow, that was a whole bunch of nothing, wasn't it?
Chunks mentioned in her blog tonight about Heather Mills, and I was mean and commented that I wanted to shove her wooden leg up her arse, or club her with it like the seals she was trying to protect. But really, that's mean, and I don't believe in clubbing seals, so good on old hobalong for trying to protect those cute little things. And I mean, nobody had a gun to Paul's head and said "marry this one legged porn star, Sir Paul." So whatever. And everyone hated Linda and was mean to the poor women until she died, and that was terrible. So I have nothing else to say about the gold-digger and the horny old Beatle. Well, other than I just realized I really do love so much of the post-Beatle Paul stuff. I love Band on the Run, and Jet, and hells bells, even Spies Like Us, and I hated it at the time but I now am sentimentally attached to "No More Lonely Nights" (even the dance mix) and I admit I have downloaded the silly song "So Bad". And I love Silly Love Songs, and Maybe I'm Amazed, and "Say, Say, Say" and I could go on and on. So while it's always cool to say John was your favorite Beatle for his solo stuff, Paul really has such a huge batch of magic, and he gets the short end of the stick so much.
Now Ringo, I can't fucking stand Ringo, but whatever.
Oh, SLAP ME FUCKING DOROTHY LIKE AN INDIAN ON A TRAMPOLINE, that gross bitch Tyra Banks is on that model show right now and she's trying to fucking sing in this little sketch thing and I just can't stand her. She's so gross. This show looks stupid. We are really addicted to Project Runway because it's funny as hell, though.
Speaking of all this Joni, I can't get the line from Talk to Me out of my head: "There was a moon and a street lamp, I didn't know I drank such a lot, until I pissed a tequila anachonda the full length of the parking lot". It reminds me of this time I was drunk and we were peeing on the highway, me and Dirtnut and Marcus, and there was snow on the side of the road, and I spelled my name and underlined it. That's a lot of fucking pee. Everyone was so amazed, I felt like a celebrity.
Damn, I still didn't get a chance to post about internet people I used to talk to, NOR about the whole Margo "Mike" story and how she had me scared fucking shitless. Please remind me to do so this weekend, because that is a fucking doozie, yessiree.
Hey, what's up with Chantel Kreviasak doing hair dye commercials? It's so stupid - "hey mom, Nutriesse makes my hair soft as a baby's arse and it will even cover your gray, haggish hair' - well, that's the coles notes version. I was also suprised to see her do that commercial, but again, I am not judging her because I so would sell out too, and I'd be putting grey shoe polish in my hair trying out for those senior-citizens-getting-nasty Polident ads, or auditioning to be the old man with the monster cock telling his grandson all about how his grandma has to have it, in the spice commercial, if I knew I could get the gigs. But again, that suprised me. ANd what about Jessica Simpson doing the zit medicine ads? I was all into it when Angela from who's the boss was selling the shit, but Jessica SImpon? Did Nick get too big a settlement? And sorry Chunks, I am glad he got a pile of the money - she wanted out, so give him half, bee-otch! And do we believe she was really a virgin when they got married?
AND what is so hot about Lindsey Lohan? She's just a gross little bitch who will be a punchline like Liza Minelli one day.
Whoa, I am mean tonight, I really need to shut up, because as I said, I don't blame anyone for selling out.. but Lohan, well, she's just gross.
Finally, I am torn about the Madonna adoption thing because would you want that for your mother? As much as I love her, she's not what you would call motherly, and so while I am glad she is saving this kid from starving, what's he getting into? But then again, if I could get some of that Madonna money, you know I'd be all hanging out the pub that Guy Ritchie is currently drinking at in London dressed in an overcoat and with kleenex boxes on my feet, pretending I am 10 years old with the consumption, offering to clean chimneys for a bowl of soup, hoping he would take pity on me and he'd call Madonna up and they'd adopt me and I'd be Lola and Rocco's Ukrainian brother.
So I don't blame them for adopting either, no matter what the reasons are.
Well, I really feel the need to poop, so I must go now - JUST KIDDING! I just wanted to say that!
Night all!

NO, Justin, *I'M* bringing sexy back... me and Sha'vonne!

Has anyone really listened to the new Killers track? I am so disappointed. It sounds exactly like Meat Loaf. I am not kidding. It might as well be from a Meat Loaf album. I don't get it. I mean, they were so cool when they had that Duran Duran vibe going on. However, what's cool about Meat Loaf? Oh, you can kiss those royalty cheques going down the drain.

-- So today, we were cleaning up and I glanced at the title of one of the kids' books, "Bearcub and Mama." Well, I thought it would be funny if the next time we saw Rachel's sister and her husband, we mention the title of the book as a fictional tv series. You see, back about 15 years ago or so when we lived in Saskatoon, her sister and brother in law would come over to our place to watch tv because for some reason they didn't have cable. Apparently, according to them, we were always watching "Black shows." I don't really know what they mean, because apart from our unnatural addiction to Evening at the Apollo, I can't think of what else we watched, or what else was on the air at that time apart from Urkel (to quote Homer Simpson, "God I hate that little snot nose!"). In any event, I guess we were really into our "Black" shows. So I said today, "let's just mention something about Bearcub and Mama being a show we watch, and we can say something like 'Oh, last night on Bearcub and Mama, it was so funny, because Sha'vonne and Bearcub were on their way to church, and Sha'vonne's hat was sat on by Raqueen, and she didn't know, and then she figured it out and started swearing in jive." However, my wife didn't seem to think it was all that funny. But I did.

-- Ok, I hate to admit it, but am I the only one who frigging loves "Sexy Back"? Damn, that dorky white boy sometimes sounds like Prince, I hate to admit it. I love it. I am sure I will hate it soon enough, but for now, it's the shit.

-- So I tried to do all my raking today because apparently we are supposed to get SNOW tonight. They first said rain today turning to snow and then 10-15 cms overnight, but so far, still above zero, still no rain OR snow, but I had a wicked migraine in the middle of the night that almost made me throw up, seriously, and it continued as soon as the pills wore off through the day, so there must be something wicked moving in. Oh - I guess I never told you, dear blog, that I get migraines from changes in barometric pressure - aka weather changes. They are more intense in the winter, or with winter weather systems, but seriously, I will be able to tell you at least 12 hours ahead of time if a storm or snow or rain is moving in by my headache. It sometimes happens if it's clearing up too, but usually now just when storms or big systems are moving in, in the form of clouds or precipitation. You may laugh, but ask my wife, I am 95% right with it. And this headache was a doozy. And actually, I sort of still feel it.

-- Everyone is sleeping, and I feel lonely. Sometimes I hate being a nightowl. Sometimes I love it for the "me time", but sometimes it's just so lonely. I would love to make a big cup o' tea right now, but as it is, I try not to piss all night long, and tea would make me up every 2 hours like Margo. Seriously, I am pissing like I have the prostate of on 60 year old. I think it's just because I never get around to having a big drink until after 9 at night. I have my check up in a few weeks, so I will ask.

-- Oh, speaking of Duran Duran earlier, I saw this kid yesterday in A & W who was dressed like either Nik or Simon, I can't remember who, but I swear it was the same outfit one of them wore on something or other. It was these tight white jeans and a striped gray and black long sleeved shirt, and he had these stupid boat shoes on, and this Duran hair, and he walked like he had a stick up his arse and he was so feminine he was obviously quite nelly, and something about this stupid fucker dressing retro like it was 20 years ago just annoyed the snot out of me, and him and his friend were so annoying as they were walking out and I got instantly crabby and just had the urge to cuff him in the back of the head as they walked out. LOL, seriously, I just wanted to go "dooof" and smack the bastard. LOLOL, that's when you know you are old, I guess, when young people annoy the snot out of you.

-- There's nothing even on television right now. HMMMM, I just checked environment canada's website and they say 60% chance of snow tonight and tomorrow, rather than the 90% on the weather channel, and the 5-10 cm. Hmmmm, maybe it will miss us. Saskatoon is getting snow right now. Oh please, just skip us, I hate the frigging snow. HATE IT.

-- Well nobody has updated their blogs tonight, so I think I am just going to go to bed and read I guess.

Have a good Monday y'all.
xo
JT

the unforgettable fire - my favorite song

P.S. This is my alltime favorite song, and it's perfect for the fall and winter - listen to it and fall in love with it too.... there isn't a more beautiful song to me in the world......
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umpz7NFc34g&mode=related&search=

More Little Known Facts about the Enigma that is JT

Random Thoughts on a fall night of things I like:

-- Some bands I love and always listen to but never talk about so you might not know I am a fan: The Eagles, America (Sister Golden Hair always makes me sort of choked up and I can't figure out why it makes me all weird), the Fixx, Depeche Mode, New Order, the Smiths, The Cure, the Doobie Brothers, the Cars, and Crosby, Stills, Nash, and sometimes Young.

-- Solo acts I love and always listen to but never talk about: Carole King, Anita Baker, Elton John, Prince, Springsteen, Tim McGraw (but not his wife, who I find to be a phony baloney), Mary Chapin Carpenter, Billy Joel, Kool and the Gang, the Bee Gees, Cyndi Lauper, Berlin.

-- Ten albums I bought in grade nine which reveals my strange musical tastes: Walking on the Chinese Wall by Philip Bailey; No Jacket Required by Phil Collins; Perfect Strangers by Deep Purple; What Becomes a Semi-Legend Most by Joan Rivers; Love Life by Berlin; No Parking on the Dance Floor by Midnight Star; that really good Scorpions album, Can't Wait All Night by Juice Newton, Lawyers in Love by Jackson Browne, and Around the World in a Day by Prince.

-- Another little known fact about me is that I am a tea drinker. Since I was a kid, I've drank "oodles" of tea, as my dad would say. Particular favorites are Earl Grey, Bigelow's Constant Comment, Bigelow's Plantation Mint, Celestial Seasoning's Chai, and Twining's Dajarling. I need my Tim's XL coffee with milk each day, but in the afternoon, it's tea time baby.

-- Brands of cigarettes I used to smoke: du Maurier, du Maurier Light King Size, Craven M, Macdonald Menthol Lights, Players Light Kings. These are brands I smoked on a regular basis.

-- I have a love of Calvin Klein underwear, particularly his boxer briefs with the button fly. They really are the most comfortable.

-- I love bartlett pears, if they are B.C. grown, prune plums, pumpkin pie, and anything with cinnamon.

-- I hate mustard, zuchini, olives, green beans, and lamb.

-- I don't floss nearly as often as I should. I go in crazy fits and will do it regularly for a while and then I just say fuck it.

-- I have never seen a Star Wars movie, ET, Alien, or any of the Lord of the Rings.

-- I have never read a Harry Potter book. Tried, couldn't do it. Same with the Hobbit.

-- I've read 17 Shakespeare plays.

-- I've taken the following English classes: Middle English Literature, Shakespeare, 17th Century Literature, Eighteenth Century Literature, Critical Theory, Canadian Literature, Western Canadian Literature, Canadian Drama, Native Literature, Biography and Autobiography, Women's Depression Narratives, the 20th Century British Novel, Post Colonial Fiction, Modernism, Trauma, and the Body, Science and Medicine in 18th century literature, and Melanie Klein and Life Writing. And you know, there may be more.

-- Books I love but never reread: The Catcher in the Rye, The Winter of our Discontent, The Bell Jar, Frankenstein, It, The Shining, Great Expectations, Beloved.

-- Books I always reread: Smart Women, Summer Sisters, Amittyville Horror, Rosemary's Baby, Stepford Wives, Domestic Arrangements, To Kill a Mockingbird.

-- Books I read as a teenager strictly for the sex: Hollywood Wives, Wifey, Jackie Collins' Chances. I read Hollywood Wives when I was 14, during a horribly hot summer weekend during the L.A. olympics, in the cool of our basement. I don't remember any of it other than it was trashy and I think I had an erection from the second page on. It probably wouldn't even be anything dirty now if I reread it. You know, until you've been a 14 year old boy, you just don't understand.....

-- I have a strange obsession with certain buildings such as the Arlington in Edmonton and the Zen Building in Chilliwack (I am working on a post about both of them in my head, coming to a blog near you), and the Dakota in NYC. One of my favorite books and movies is Rosemary's Baby, which is set in a building like the Dakota, and filmed IN the Dakota. I've also never seen a movie that is as close to the book as Rosemary's Baby. Fuck man, Ira Levin is the fucking shit. Read it. See the movie.

-- I have a fear of being homeless and always wonder where I would sleep if I was homeless.

-- Something I am ashamed of saying: I used to work with this woman who has this strangely big ass - really out of proportion with her body, and when my friend Lisa who worked with us said one night she went to aquasize with this woman, I immediately said "what does she look like naked" and then Lisa said "it's really not that big" and it's just so horrible a thing to say.

-- 200 Cigarettes is on tv right now. I fucking LOVE this movie. Courtney Love is so underrated. Fucking pills anyway.

-- I have stomach issues and have to take Pepcid or Zantac each night before bed.

-- I love George Benson, Al Jareau, and that poppy jazz shit.

-- I like dry wine.

-- I hate tattoos. Sorry my tattooed readers, but I hate them like a motherfucker.

-- I have a thing of reading newspapers from other cities. I am in my glory with a NY Times or an L.A. paper or the Village Voice.

-- I had a thing for Donna Pescow as a kid. My favorite angel was Kate Jackson.

-- I always thought I would have a daughter named Rhiannon. I don't think my wife will let that happen.

-- I am not sure if I believe the relationship between Bowie and Iman. But I want to hang out with them. But they both sort of scare me. But I want to be their friend.

-- I have an old feather pillow that is about 25 years old that I have to sleep with - I put that one over my head. I don't really give a flying fuck about dust mites on that thing.

-- I will not be fulfilled until I go to New York City.

-- Tell me again - why do we even know who Nicole Ritchie is? I am sure Peabo Bryson has a daughter too - why isn't she all over the place?

-- I can't believe I am saying this, but Esther Rolle, the original maid on Maude and the mom on Good Times, always reminded me of my aunt Jean for some reason, but also, her face was always so clean and shiny and round and dark that I every time I see her, I am reminded of when i was a wee lad and my mother would make me chocolate pudding on the stove, and something about Esther Rolle's face makes me think of that pudding with the thick skin on top in the bowl. I don't mean this to be an insult.

-- And that, my friends, is the latest installment in the life and times of JT.

Peace out mofos.
xo
JT

i'll just post tomorrow when i aint so gosh darned tired (swearing would have gotten be kicked from 40plus)

I had all intentions of blogging about internet people, I really did. Sadly, I think I am too tired. I promise, tomorrow night. I need to be peppy to tell you all about my time spent on IRC in the late 90s, parked in a chatroom called #40plus. LOL, you will piss yourself when I regale you with stories such as the fateful night I wandered in there, to my status as being a big whoopdeedoo with "Ops", and all the people I chatted with each night. Holy moly, only I would be sucked into this shit, I know. So I have to be in good form to actually talk about this all to get all the humor out of it.
So, I will talk to you all tomorrow.
xo

I really hate that motherf**king Charmin

There, I said it. I really hate that fucking Charmin toilet paper, and I am not ashamed to admit it. Not because it's thin like one ply or anything, or sandpapery rough. No, it's fine in those aspects. The problem is that the motherfucking shit clogs the toilet like lint in a bellybutton. Every frigging time we buy it, I am constantly running from one toilet to the next with a plunger, looking like that freaky old lady on the Old Dutch bleach bottle. And you know, it never fails that we buy it once a year. I usually am quite particular with bum wipe - I am partial to Royalle, and it's not just because my parents always used it, nor the cutsey kitten commercials from my childhood. No, I like it because it's strong, yet soft, and flushes like a motherfucker.
I have always *wanted* to like Charmin - really, I have. Back when I was a wee lad, Charmin wasn't available in Canada, so like all popular products not available in Canada but endlessly flogged on American television as the cat's ass, I just KNEW that Charmin would be the Cadaillac of ass wipe. I remember thinking "if only it was available here, it would be so funny to go and squeeze it in the store." Yes, I guess I was looking for our version of the mythic Mr. Whipple, who kept his eye on his Charmin. I really wanted to squeeze it. I think that Charmin mania had so effectively indoctrinated us as children that we all would squeeze our Canadian ass wipe and then turn away, disappointed and saddened. Indeed, squeezing the Charmin was sort of like a pre-pubescent feeling-up, if you will. Before there was boobies to fantasize about, there was Charmin to squeeze. Actually, you could use the term "squeezing the Charmin" as a colloquial phrase for spanking the monkey: "Ah, squeezin' the charmin againn, are ye laddie? Yar, that will make ye blind and pimply!" If I ever write a book, I'll have to use that line. But I digress.
So, like Clorox bleach, Spaghetti O's, and Bush Beans, Charmin was something in our collective unconscious, but never there for us to access.
So, fast forward 25 years, and Charmin is flowing here like vodka and sleeping pills down Liza Minelli's gullet. And it plugs the motherfucking shit out of my toilets.
Why do I always buy it once a year you ask? Simple: The damned Walmart anniversary sale, which comes once a year and makes me a fool. Each year, you can count on the sale to have the same things: Time, Cascade, Kraft Dinner, and Charmin, all at riddiculously low prices. So, each year, I am all "we can't pass up 5 dollar asswipe!". And each year, I am running around like a plummer after various members of my household scream at the rising waters in our commodes. My joke of "Charmin changed its name to Sponge Wipe - I wonder why!" has grown old fast. Since there are about 12 double rolls left, we gots us some wiping to do before the pipes settle down, and then it will be quiet until next year.
You know, I really hate how some products have changed throughout the years. It just makes life confusing. Remember Libby's beans? You knew what you were getting and what they were called. Then suddenly, they are "Libby's Beans by Heinz", so you have both Heinz beans, yet there is also Libbys Beans by Heinz, and I mean, I don't care if John Kerry himself went and bought every stock in Libbys - keep the name Libby's, and collect the money through Heinz. It's not going to hurt you none.
I won't even comment on new Coke. Oh, and Ivory Liquid. Remember that shit - soft on hands or whatever? It was pearly white and smelled like Ivory bar soap? WELL... I see "Ivory Classic" in the store a few months back, and think "cool, it's the same old shit" and buy it. Well, let me tell you, it ain't the same old shit. Not even close.
Oh, and I am just having a brainwave. Something tells me that when Charmin first came to Canada, they bought out Royalle, and then people hated Charmin and they had to bring Royalle back, and market Charmin separately. Hmmm, that's right..... interesting.
Anyway, enough of that shit. Did I tell you peeps what I found on DVD? Seasons one and two of "Family". Does anyone remember family, with Sada Thompson and Kristy McNicoll, and Meredith Baxter Birney? She lived in the garage or something. I loved that show! However, the mofo dvd is like 50 bucks so I can't bring myself to buy it just yet. But just knowing it's there is a comfort.
And that's the REST of the story!
xo
JT

Back in the day I was a rum drinkin', platform shoe wearin' wannabe.... what about you?

I don't know how this will go, because something is buggered up either wit this laptop or with my connection, so I type something and nothing happens, and then suddenly it all comes rushing out at once, so I can't tell when there is a typo until way later, and it's really annoying me, so i might just have to abandon this posting thing. We'll see what happens.

I haven't posted for ages because I really have nothing to say or anything. As it is, this will be an exercise in futility, because obviously, the posting gods are against me, with this delayed typing thing and all.

So tonight we had our very first... what the hell is it called... home and school association or whatever meeting. There was like 5 of us parents, with the principal and vice principal. I think it will be really nice being involved in this shit. So that was fun.

Anyway, as I said before, but I will say again, I had an Augusten moment yesterday. I was pulling into my driveway and on the radio was that song that goes "we've got to keep our love alive, so can go on living" from the early 70s, and flooding back came the memories of being like 6 years old, listening to that song on my headphones, fantasizing that I was decked out like Donny Osmond, in a white sort of suit thing with platform shoes, singing with my 13 year old neighbor Geneva, who I had a crush on, and we'd be singing at high schools to each other, with those freaky microphones that Donny and Marie used to have. I remember the fantasy so vividly. I would imagine us singing "SOS by ABBA, "Best Disco in Town", "I'd Really Love to See you Tonight", and others - all songs on my K-TEL records.

It's all so Augusten, isn't it? And as I have said before, it makes me sound like a kook, but fuck, I lived in a fantasy world half the time. I would go put on those big honkin' headphones, you know the ones, the ones that looked like safety equipment, with the spiral cord, and listen to the stereo in our living room, one of those crazy ass long cabinet models. Half the time you'd have to put a penny on the needle to stop it from skipping. Oh, I spent so much time there as a 6 and 7 year old, and it's so weird when you think of it. But I always had these grandiose fantasies that I was the cool singer in these fucking platform shoes and feathered hair, or those male version of clogs, and singing to a captive audience in a high school, or sometimes I'd be on Merv Griffin or Mike Douglas or Dinah Shore. Since I didn't really realize that people lip synched back then, I just thought that someone was sitting backstage turning the sound down on the mics when the song was ending. But anyway, that was a common fantasy.

I also remember always fantasizing about moving into the house across the street. There was this lot almost across from us, and these people started to build this nice looking house - it wasn't anything special I guess, but at the time it was the cat's ass - I bi-level with three bedrooms up, and it looked like 2 down, and a covered deck. Anyway, it looked really nice and in my 6 year old mind I thought that I should be able to buy it and move into it, and I used to fantasize that I would move in there and I'd have a brentwood rocking chair, which were cool to me I guess, and this tan couch and love seat set I saw at Sears, and those laps that had those rounded shades that looked sort of like burlap, and a macrame owl, and ferns everywhere. Why ferns? I dunno, I was 6. I also thought I'd have this big-ass stereo, a Kenmore, with the reel-to-reels and such. But the main thing was that I was going to open my livingroom window and crank my music loud to show how cool I was and invite the widow next door to visit - she was only like 30 and I sort of had this crush on her - she was my friend's mom - and she'd think I was cool because I would be blasting all the hits on my K-TEL record "Right On". I was also going to drink rum and coke, I don't know why or where my 7 year old self would have tasted rum (but i drank it when I was 8, which I'll post later), but not smoke.

So that was my weird mind. Our house was situated oddly, at the end of a street, and beyond our back fence was a back "alley" that you didn't drive down, but instead was filled with blackberry bushes and puddles with tadpoles and frogs. Beyond that was a dyke road, and an Indian Reserve and slough, so it was all country. Here's a map - we overlooked the Skwah Reserve: http://www.maps.worldweb.com/ChilliwackMap.html

Well, everyone dumped their lawn clippings and compost in the "alley". As I said, for some reason, me and my friend "Ruby" who lived on the other side of me, had this thing we were going to drink rum when we grew up (can you tell we came from drinking parents?), and we finally had our opportunity. My parents' friends from Cranbrook came for a visit and they had a 40 of dark rum with them. Well, they were there for a couple days but never finished the 40 - there was maybe 3 or 4 oz. left in the bottle. So, one day when we were home alone, Ruby and I took the bottle out of the liqour cabinet (which really was an end table) and mixed it up in 2 juice glasses with some coke. We then took the bottle and threw it in the alley next to the grass clippings. Stupid move.

So a while later, my dad was cutting the grass and and dumping the clippings behind the fence, and lo and behold he sees this empty 40 in our clipping pile. So he of course remembers that they had some of this in their cabinet, the same bottle and all, so checks and then asks my sisters if they drank it and blah blah blah. So I come home and they ask me and I am all "well, yeah, Ruby and I drank it" but now that I think of it, I think they just laughed and that was it. It was a funny story we always told. I didn't think it wa sa big deal though. My parents always let me drink wine and liqueurs and such as a child, so it wasn't a big thing. Every birthday I got to pick what wine I wanted. I remember my 9th birthday, and having Baby Duck. It's so weird to think of, but whatever.

Anyway, I best get to bed as I have a kid who is coughing reeeaally bad right now, so it will be a long night, methinks.

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives....

Oy, as I typed this, my dog just fell off the top of the couch in her sleep.... she's retarded, God bless her.....

xo

JT