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When you think of all the professions in this world, and all the jobs you’d want to do, how often does tub tart come up? Do children, when asked what they want to be, ever say, “I want to be a tub tart.” Most people don’t even know what a tub tart is, or what she does. It is indeed, a secret life.

The term ‘tub tart’ came about when I first heard it used in a bar. After wandering around the bar, I ran into Matt and he’d asked me if I had any success with the tub tart. At first, it seemed he had mispronounced tubby tart, and I nearly punched him in the face for it. But then he clarified, that the tub tart, was in fact that girl dancing over there. Read the rest of this entry »

There’s something about the cold comfort of a brick wall, that steadies you as you lurch forward with every gasp of breath, emptying your stomach of the 14 oz. Alberta Grade A Beef steak dinner, 3 pints of Moosehead, and an undisclosed number of cocktails. It’s like a sign that screams, you should go home and quick.

I remember when I was younger, I would go with my mother to her company Christmas parties, but they were always held during the afternoon, and I would go to the front, sit on Santa’s lap and get a present. One time it was a firetruck with an extendable ladder. Another time, it was a box of Pink Elephant popcorn in a red fishnet stocking. I loved those small popcorn boxes.

Now, I party with millionaires. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. Wads of cash, as thick as books, passed around the bar. Bottles of red wine pouring themselves out like rivers of thick blood. Glasses clinking together, toasting this apparently very religious holiday season. Celebrations of a religion which includes double rye and cokes. Where do I sign up? I embrace Christianity, with all my heart and liver.

So there I was, leaning up against this cold, hard wall, trying to remember if it was rice or mashed potatoes I had earlier. Its too bad you can’t control what leaves and what stays in your stomach. The cab stopped at a red light, and I had just lunged out. Behind me, the rest of the occupants in the cab were screaming out, “HEMINGWAY’S!!” Hemingway? I love that guy. He is my favourite author. Funny that they should know that, I just met most of them. Millionaires are smart people.

Then there was silence. I wiped my mouth and turned around to see a bare street intersection. A single cab would race by on the wet roads. Was that my cab? I don’t even know. The traffic lights sullenly changed to yellow. Then to red. Where’d everybody go? Those fuckers just left me here to freeze and die. Then I realized Hemingway’s is a bar in Yorkville and stumbled my way over. The rest of the night is a mystery.

I woke up the next morning in all my heavenly glory, spread eagle on my bed wearing the same clothes as the night before, with a sad trail of jacket, scarf and socks leading from the apartment entrance way to my bedroom.

I’m not sure how I got home, but there is one thing for certain: I must have been a homing pigeon in a previous life. And I must have been a really good homing pigeon, seeing as I am still alive, having survived 24 years, 5 of which were spent entirely drunk. Yes, I was definitely a good homing pigeon.

Reincarnated to this inglorious man before you, somehow it just doesn’t matter how smashed I get, I always manage to find my way home. Albeit, sometimes that home may be the second stall in a girl’s washroom at a Trent University dormitory, but that’s a different story.

I met Kenny for coffee this afternoon and after telling him this story, he said to me, which may have been my only solace, “At least you didn’t wake up with a sore ass and $200 in your back pocket.”

Words to live by.

Finding a place to eat good sushi downtown is a real challenge. It always feels better going to Japanese restaurants and being served by Japanese people. Not like, walking into Mamma’s Pizza and finding out that “Mamma” is a Korean family of 8, including little Kimchi who is running around filling up the salt shakers.

J2 came into town and we all headed out. Last time he was here, I arranged for us all to eat at Al Frisco’s on a Friday night. I ended up beatin’ mojitos for a good 2 hours by myself, holding a reservation for 12. The hostess there peed all over me, and kept taking away my seats. By the time those jokers showed up, I was on my fourth mojito, and holding onto the last 4 seats for dear life. It was pretty cut.

This time, we went to Hiro Sushi, and again, I made the reservation for six for 9:30pm on a Saturday night. The waitress repeatedly came over to tell me the kitchen closes at 10pm sharp. They didn’t show til 5 to 10. I think she would’ve peed harder if her Japanese nature would’ve allow it. We ate and the food was boo, but expensive. No one was impressed at the portion vs. price ratio. It was pure Mata sizes, like when I use to live in Japan.

Hiro the Sushi Maker was an impressive sight. He was an expert roller, most likely a black belt sushi roller. I’d go there with a girl for a date, but a group of Waterloo expatriates don’t need the glitz and glam. Next time, we’ll hit Ichiban.

We ended up wanking Alto Basso for next drinks, and they poured us out of our wallets. Most of the broads were rot. There was one mint blonde that I would’ve hit if she wasn’t booing with next guy. Jung never came and neither did his harem of broads. The place was sick joke, I think I might wank it again sometime. Pure ultra lounge type place. Not quite a lounge, not quite a club.

It was a mint night. Pure jokes. I almost creeked from all the shots. We closed the bar and aK pyaked all over his shoes. He’ll say to death, “Shovel, it was just splashback”, but I was there. I saw it and so did the security guard. Pure lose points for pyakin’ on yourself. Meanwhile Pannu was kickin’ tits in the car waiting for us. The night finally ended and I crashed. Woke up the next morning with pure throat cancer.

Today I spent the whole day writing a screenplay for the fabula project. Its done and submitted, but I’m still doing edits and re-writes. My sleep pattern is raped from this weekend. I’m gonna creek at work tomorrow.

I have been working on a few things lately. First one is the MOFO dragon boat promotional video. I made the video using Adobe Premiere and rendered it using Quicktime (MPEG4). There are two versions, a small and large. The large one (640×480) is better quality. You can check out both videos here.

Then I made a few banners and flyers for our next jam. It’s been a busy week. Here’s the write up with the flyers, I encourage you to forward this to anyone that might want to come out and partay!!

Kristi is leaving for Scotland this week, and I threw a get together for her. This weekend turned out to be really fun weekend. I wore a kilt in honour of the motherland, Scotland. I’d probably make a pretty defective Scotsman since I can’t head butt very well. I posted Kay’s pictures on the gallery.

Good luck in Scotland!