I'll Play You For It

Christmas is a time for all of us to enjoy friends and family, to put aside everything that is going on in our busy lives to busy ourselves with festivity and generosity. This isn't some half baked fluffy statement, it's something I believe so stuff anyone out there who thinks it's a load, you're free to eat a load. Now that was in the spirit of the season now wasn't it?

I avoided the shopping malls for the most part because I can't stand to see the ugly side of Christmas. I don't mean the commercialization of it, but the frayed nerves, short tempers, snotty shoppers and the parking lot buzzards. To me it's all about the family, spreading good will and embracing a little peace among man. Don't get me wrong peace with women is great too.

Given all the shittiness out there, it warmed the old lump of coal in the chest to read about a story from the battle front in France during the first world war. The English and German soldiers were at a deadlock in ground battle on Christmas Eve when they decided to put their weapons down for one day. They came out of the foxholes and embraced each other as brothers, not in arms, but humanity. They played a game of soccer, sang carols, shared meal and drink and posed for pictures. Never mind the fact that once Christmas was over, the recommenced blowing the shit out of each other... The spirit of the story remains.

That story stuck with me and the other night, my partner and I went about making peace with a few of our regular customers. We had been on a detail at the local residence for society's miscreants when we came about a large spread of Christmas turkey with some of the traditional fixings. We were offered a meal and who were we to turn down a turkey dinner? After finishing up, we asked if we could take some turkey back for some of the other guys, with the intention of actually distributing it out on the streets. The guardsmen said to fill our plates since all of the extra was just going to find its way into the bins.

So with 2 plates with about 8 pounds of turkey, another plateful of fruit cake and a cup of apple sauce, we were off. What a sight I must have been, piles of turkey on one side, fruit cake in my lap, and a bag of contraband on the other side riding along trying not to mess myself up. Our first encounter was with one of our local street ladies. She didn't seem to be high on anything so we stopped and waved her over. She had a smile on her face as she skipped over to the car. They know the routine when we stop and talk so she made nice. We asked her how she was and she said she was fine. We then asked her if she'd eaten lately and she told us that she hadn't and was starving. We figured she might like a plate of turkey and asked her if she'd like one. I couldn't blame her for not really believing us but when she saw we were serious she was over the moon. So off she went with the biggest smile on her face and off we went to find our next unsuspecting target.

We stopped off at the 7-11 and immediately saw the perfect candidate for the fruit cake. He was kinda squirrelly looking and had a full length, cruddy grey down coat on. He didn't seem like he was giving the clerks a hard time so when he came out, we talked to him. He said to me, "Hey you've got to help me". I asked him with what and he explained that he needed to find a shelter for the night. I asked him if he was hungry and if he'd eaten lately. He told me that he hadn't. I asked him if he'd want a big plate of fruit cake and he emphatically said, "OH YEAH!" Now this plate must have weighed 2 or 3 pounds and I didn't feel like carrying any of it with me so I gave him the whole thing. This is how the rest of the conversation went:

"WHOA Thanks man!!! But you've still got to help me find a shelter."

"Sorry, I can't do that right now, I've got to take care of this."
*holds up bag of aforementioned goodies*

"Can't you go to Seaton House for the night?"

"Nope, they don't like me there, I've got a bowel problem and they say I stink up the place."

"Whoa, you've got a bowel problem and you're going to eat that whole plate of fruit cake?!?! Dude you're going to shit yourself!"

"Uh... Yup, probably. Heh heh."

"Umm ok man, just make sure you get your pants down first when that happens."

"Ok thanks guys."

After giving a couple of slices of turkey to the folks at the front desk, we still had a 4 pound plate of turkey still to give out so off we went. We scoured the streets and found our last (un)lucky mumbly (affectionate slang for street folks). We spotted him in a coffee shop as he was just sitting down to a fresh cup. I pointed at him from the other side of the glass and motioned for him to come over to the car. He was uncertain at first but when I pointed him out again, he came out. The "normal" looking customers in the shop started to look at me like I was some sort of asshole on a power trip for abusing this guy.

He came out and came up to the car. The same routine came about where I asked him how he was and if he'd had a good Christmas so far and if he'd eaten his Christmas dinner yet. He replied that he was ok, but he hadn't eaten any dinner for days now and was starved. *Perfect* I asked him if he'd want a 4 pound plate of turkey to fix that problem. His answer was predictable and this was the exchange as it happened:

"Sure I would, but you're kidding right?"

"Nope. I'm serious, I've got a 4 pound plate of turkey for you, but you'll have to play me in Rock, Paper Scissors for it. Best 2 out of 3. You win and you get a 4 pound plate of turkey."

"Oh, I don't really know how to play that though."

*blink blink*
"What do you mean you don't know how to play!?!?! Everyone knows how to play R.P.S.!"

"My kids know how to play, but I'm not very good, I lose all the time."

Now I'm getting pretty animated with my hands and the people inside the coffee shop I'm a complete asshole for looking like I'm yelling at him.

"Well, ok, just try and see how you do."

"Ok"

Round 1: Me, Rock - Him, Scissors. "Aww damn..." "Hey don't walk away it's 2 out of 3."

Round 2: Me, Scissors - Him, Scissors. *I think I know why he loses all the time...*

*pedestrian walking by is utterly confused with what he sees and hears going on before him*

Round 3: Me, Paper - Him, Scissors. "All right!"

Round 4: Me, Paper - Him, Scissors. " Woo Hoo! Where's that plate?" "Here you go buddy." "Thanks man!"

As we drove off, I could see him walking back into the coffee shop and the other customers asking him what I'd been harassing him about and then he smiled and pointed at his mound of food and said, "IT'S TURKEY!!!"

Gobble gobble everybody. Hope your Christmas and other holidays were enjoyable and if you made it to the end of this post, good for you, you get a big star beside your name in my books.

Oh No You Didn't...

Me, aka: Jim, J, Jamie

Sister, aka: Ali, Nos, Alison, Snos, Snosage

Brother, aka: Jeff, Yerf, Jeffery, Beefy, Boom Boom, Beefy Boom Boom Buffet

Mom, aka: Moo, Amber

Step-Dad, aka: Joseph

* * * * *

Me: Man that thing is huge!

Sister: You mean as big as *points at Jeff's ass*

Me: Ha ha ha ha ha, yeah, well, maybe not.

Jeff: Shut up, I know you two are talking about me. My ass isn't that big.

Sister: Yes it is.

All: Ha ha ha.

* * * * *

Me: So how are we supposed to cook these things, just put a little oil on the pan and go from there?

Mom: Yeah, oh well, I guess just trial and error.

Me: Hmmm, Mike is coming over to watch the Leaf game, can I feed him the first one?

Mom: Ummm, sure *big smile*

* * * * *

Step Dad: AH!!! The Cowboys and Packers are playing on Thursday!

Me: Yeah? What's the problem?

Step Dad: I'm going to have to miss it.

Me: Why, what else would you be doing at that time?

Step Dad: I promised some friends that I would go watch their son's concert or something like that.

Me: Is there anyway you can get out of it?

Step Dad: I don't know maybe I could tell them I broke my leg or something, I really don't want to go but they came to our event, but really bah.

* * * * *

Me: How do you like this new shirt?

Brother: Quite frankly, I just don't give a fuck. *turns and walks away laughing*

* * * * *

Family: *eating lunch*

Mom: *way out of left field* BRITNEY SPEARS IS ADOPTING CHILDREN!!!

Sister: WHAT?!?! Where do you get your info?

Mom: 680 News

* * * * *

Sister: Oh Suri's really cute...

Me: Yeah, she is, who is that one there?

Sister: That's Shiloh, Brad and Angelina's kid.

Me: Ah, (next page) who is that one, she's cute too.

Sister: That's Shiloh too, of course she's cute, she's got Angelina and Brad as parents.

Mom: Let me see, oh, she's not cute at all, she's got such a big forehead!

Sister: Yeah, well look at Jeff.

Mom: Well, Jeff's a good looking boy.... Now.

Me and sis: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

* * * * *

Mom: Ali, do you want a cupcake?

Sister: Ok

Mom: Do you want one?

Me: No, it's ok, Boom Boom can have one when he gets home.

Mom: No! Boom Boom isn't allowed to eat it!

Sister: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Mom: What are you laughing at? I don't even know who Boom Boom is...

Me and Sister: LIAR!!!

Well there are certainly times of the year when we have to take pause and reflect on some of the other things going on in the world other than what we see and take at face value to be normal. Case in point, I just turned 28 yet I was again told by one of my co-workers that even though I looked like I could be in college, that it wasn't ok to go about dating college girls and in addition to that, I acted like I was 6 years old... To those who know me, they could very well agree that I don't always act my age and that the world is a little sugar coated place in my childish eyes.

Now I am not about to disagree whole heartedly with what some of those folks are saying, because c'mon... I am a bit of an asshat at times, and I know that I ought to act a bit more my age as the number associated with that word increases, but perhaps there is something to acting a younger age or at least seeing the world non-judgingly as kids do; no difference to colour, taking a person's word and intentions to be honest and seeing the good in people no matter their appearance.

At work, I run into all types who leave lasting impressions on me: the drunken club girls who shamelessly and in some cases bralessly and pantylessly advance on the uniform, the "emotionally disturbed" who also sometimes offer themselves, but that's a vomit inducing story for another time, the self righteous arse plugs who believe they're entitled to everything and find every single thing wrong with us until they need us, the crack heads / hos who sprinkle our streets with their own brand of delightfulness. Then there are those who look the part of someone who, if not for downward gazes at the ends of our noses, we'd never pay attention to.

You know the type, they occupy the spaces outside shops, drug stores and banks. We often don't bother with any sort of interaction asides from dropping change into a cup or saying sorry, most times not even that and walking on. Now granted most of these types are as useful as the grease on a burnt out pan, but like Asian drivers, if you look long and hard enough, you'll find the odd good one among the lot. If you take some more time to listen you may even find out that they have a story and sometimes it's a story that can change you or at least the way you look at things.

Andrew is one of our locals, we have a run of the mill exchange that goes on between us whenever we stop and talk to him. The routine goes as such, we take his name and tell him to move on, and sometimes he gets a citation or two for his efforts. Unlike some of the others we deal with, he goes about it with us all the time with a genuine smile and he holds no malice towards us at all. After each encounter, it's a "have a good day sir" and a "take care of yourself Andrew" and off all of us go about our ways.

We're all "busy" to a degree with our lives and the rigors of the work day, to the point where as soon as we are done with one thing, we move right on to the next without any pause. So caught up are we that we pass things by more so than the world passes us by. One day some point back, I picked up the habit of asking some of these folks where they were spending the night or how things were on the streets just as a manner of making conversation on some level other than a "professional" one. It was after doing that with him that I got to hear Andrew's story.

He's a survivor and he's had one fight after another on his hands for as long as he can remember. He'd worked odd and end jobs here and there and hadn't been afforded a stable family or surroundings as he grew up. Along the way, he had his episodes with drugs and less amicable relations with my employment agency. He'd also contracted Hep C along with H.I.V. to tie it all together with a fancy pink ribbon. I found most of this out one day when I just put everything aside and just sat and talked with him for a while.

It was amazing to me to hear from him that he wasn't angry at anyone or anything in the world. He had made his peace with everything and I was at a mild loss as to how it was all possible. He went on to explain that he was told a few years ago that he'd be dead by a couple of years ago and yet here he was still alive. He went on to tell me that he'd also beaten Hep C and that the doctors were at complete loss as to explain how it was no longer even in his system and not registering on his blood tests. As he figured, he was on borrowed time and was going to do the best with what he had after all, he was a dead man walking.

He keeps himself going by selling the odd news paper and by the generosity of passers by who drop off food to him. He realizes that he's not going to be working in a bank anytime soon, but as he says each time, he's doing the best he can. The last time I saw him the other day, I asked him where he was staying as old man winter had decided to pay an earlier visit to town and the weather wasn't exactly conducive to comfortable outdoor living. I was more than a little shocked when he told me that he had a place of his own and even showed me the key to his apartment.

He went on to explain that he saved enough money throughout the course of the summer to put down $600 to secure a place. He'd gone to one of the local community centres and had, through a worker, set up a place where he could leave whatever money he made throughout the day without any worry about losing or being robbed of his money. It was nice to see the pride he had on his face and the genuine smile he had when he told me about it. I kinda got the feeling that he'd been waiting for some time to pull out that key and show it off to one of us and I really hope the look and happiness I had on my face for him was what he had in mind.

Early happy holiday wishes everybody.

How Could You Tell?

I guess I should give up my poker career before it begins or I'll lose the shirt off my back. You know the feeling we all sometimes have where we think we're completely in control of our goings on and things are just as we will them to be; we give off the vibe, walk with the swagger that nothing can send our ship listing... Well apparently, I do that as well as I can run a sprint in stilettos. (and no, for the record, I can't do that... seriously)

The other day, I was in therapy, no not that kind, for a strained groin muscle, and no not that kind either... My main therapist Dana had put me through some painful trigger point muscle releases (ok, I can see where you people can get thrown off now) when the time came for her to tend to her next clien err patient leaving me yet to receive my ultrasound treatment. A second year student was sitting around watching and learning and Dana asked Emily if she wouldn't mind doing my ultrasound and she said yes.

At this point, I was lying flat on my back while the sonic gel was applied above the injured area. Let's just get it out there that yes, it was very high up the leg and anyone looking from her back and seeing the back and forth motion could assume the sexual best for me, but alas... We chatted to pass the time, eventually she got to asking about my oft injured shoulder which can only be described as being akin to Mel Gibson's in all the Lethal Weapon movies. She asked when I would be getting the reconstructive surgery on it and I replied when I found a good girl to take care of me afterwards. She let out in response, "I could do with a good guy to take care of me".

Totally un-related, I'm listening to the Killers cover of Dire Straight's Romeo and Juliet right now, it's so good.

I don't know if it was a case of thinking out loud or whatever, but it piqued the interest level a touch. Now I thought to myself, hmmm, maybe she's single, but a cute girl like that with personality not dating someone... Seemed plausible, but then there was the second thought, she's got a guy already and he's a knuckle dragging, douche bag and she's looking for a change... In either case we carried on and I can honestly say it was effortless and enjoyable.

It was only after that I'd gotten vertical did I realize she was much more woman than I could appreciate from my back, a whole 3 inches or so more... I've had to look up to a lot of people in my life and I did so with no issue in this case. I noticed she had nice greenish brown eyes that she framed up very well in her stylish glasses and hey, I've always been a sucker for nice eyes. I didn't care much to leave the clinic after I was finished up with my treatment and we chatted a little bit more with her roommate who also happens to be one of the program supervisors (a potential obstacle).

I eventually made my way home and after settling in for a game of Scrabulous, I got a phone call from a girlfriend of mine. We were talking for a bit, catching up on the goings on of the day and her less than involved relationship that sadly is making it's last laps around the bowl. Eventually I made mention that I'd met a girl and instantly she declared, "A HA!!! I knew it!" I was puzzled and asked what she meant. She went on to explain that she knew something good had happened to me because she could hear it in my voice. I didn't think I had any different tone than the usual so I was caught off guard for being caught out.

Never one to stay bashful for long I tried to play it off but no dice, she was all over me for details. I was sorry to say that there weren't too many but it didn't stop her excitement for me. Who knows what will come of it, but at the very least there's no harm in asking as she and some of the other members of my booster club have suggested.

Excuse Me, You're Calling From Where???

So I was sitting at home a week and a bit ago watching my brother play Guitar Hero 3 when I noticed that I had missed a call on the cell. After watching him successfully rock out to another 5 star video performance, I went about listening to the message and it went a little something like this:

"Hi James, this is Olivera from Max Agency, you met one of our scouts during the Jazz Festival down in the Beaches and I was calling to set up an appointment for you to come in and meet with us. Give me a call at 416..........."

Wait, what the hell did I just hear? I wasn't quite sure I heard that right above the Guitar Hero so I played it again and yeah, it would appear as though I had received call from a modeling agency... I blinked a few times and thought to myself, where in the hell she would have gotten my phone num... !!! I shook my fist as I realized exactly who had given my phone number out...

I'd only been working with two other guys that whole weekend so it was a simple process of elimination. I called Jeremy and asked him if he'd ever heard of a Max Modeling Agency. I heard him chuckle on the other end of the line, instantly confirming my suspicion. He could only say, "I may have been around when the talent scouts were around but I can't really say how your information got passed on to them". I told him that he didn't have to explain and that I had a pretty good idea of who had given my info out.

So I sat there and thought to myself, why in the hell would he have done that? Then the obvious answer came, "because you're so fun and easy to have a laugh with (at)". *D'uh* The next question I asked myself was, what the hell are you going to do about it? So I consulted with the girlfriends and the overwhelming response was "go for it". So I thought to myself, why the hell not? What's the worst that can come of this, I get told I'm not what a modeling agency was looking for? Hell, I could have told you that before having to be asked. : P

So I called and set up an appointment for this past Monday. I was told to dress somewhat professionally, meaning no jeans or sneakers. I figured I'd do it up and wear my new shirt I that I'd bought on a spur of the moment fashion upgrade shopping trip with my friend Niki. Hell, if ever a time to show off, or at least make light of, an attempt at fashion, this was it. So I showed up for my 1230 appointment looking as dapper as I could for mid day. I figured the meeting would only take half an hour at most and I would have more than enough time to get to a far more pressing engagement, a hockey game at 1400 vs a rival station.

I arrived in the office and was greeted by a smartly dressed dude who was obviously but not flagrantly gay. He was nice and took note of the fact that I had arrived. I sat down in the office and made note of the fish tank behind the receptionist's desk. I thought there was a toy crocodile or alligator floating in the middle of it, but upon closer inspection, I found it to be real. Couple that with the odd cinematic gladiator style symphony orchestral music, it was just a touch odd, but not altogether unsettling, I began putting everything into Zoolander perspective.

Shortly after my arrival, the guy behind the desk was replaced by the actual receptionist. She had a pretty face and wore smart, and very bum friendly black dress pants and a very flattering dark apple green top which complimented her natural features. I thought, hey now, things are picking up a bit. She made little attempt to acknowledge my presence. I figured, hell she sees so many "beautiful" people coming in through the doors, what was another face to her? I was the only person in the office at the time so I settled into a 2003 issue of Men's Health.

After a short while, this pompous looking tit walked in followed by a larger, solely due to girth, tit who I assumed was his agent. Small tit had a very high forehead. Think mine but twice as high. He had long, bottom of the ear length hair which he had slicked back. He wore a tarty little green zip up and annoying slim, TAPERED, and I'm assuming $200 designer jeans with some silly criss-cross pattern on the back of the legs. His shoes were of the pointed variety which made me, for the few seconds I looked at them, want to use them to stab him in his beady eyes.

When the receptionist asked for his name, he bladed his body to the right as if at the end of a "dear God please one day land me on this" catwalk, turned his head ever so slightly to the left and said in some bastardized mutation of an English or Australian accent "Dipsy McLightLoafers", or something close to that. I couldn't help but let my left brow arch up in absolute bemusement. I quickly retreated to the mag lest he see my utter contempt. It was at this point too that I noticed what appeared to be an dirt spot on the face of the receptionist. I just found it a touch odd that said spot just happened to follow an outline of a 'stache... I knew at this point, I had a blog post coming.

As I sat and waited for my turn, a middle aged woman who was almost as snazzily dressed as yours truly walked in and took a seat almost directly across from me. She checked in and sat down and proceeded to ignore everything else, so I did likewise to her. Shortly after Ms. Middleagenoring, a younger teen girl with a little punky look to her arrived with her very middle class very white mom and her older sister who spoke with ZERO tonal or volume control. I couldn't happen but notice the troupe was quickly being filled and the big top would be in full swing very shortly.

As the latest additions to the gong show sat down, I couldn't help but notice the older sister. It quickly dawned on me that there was a Ben Stiller theme to this office as she reminded me more of Warren from "There's Something About Mary". While she wasn't wearing earphones to soothe her into the room you could tell she was out of her comfort zone. I think she must have found the whole experience as comedic as I did. We looked at each other and I smiled at her and she smiled back at me half shy and half giddy. I figured this was as "real" of an interaction I was going to experience so I continued the smile game. It was actually quite fun.

It was now pushing 1300 and I was getting a little impatient but hey, I figured this was how these industry types rolled, so I just went with it. When the receptionist finally got off the phone, she called my pal with the tapered jeans and directed him to an awaiting office. He stood up and looked to the larger tit with his smarmy vest, plastic rectangle frame glasses and annoying salt and pepper beard and pony tail and beckoned, "daddy..."... I blinked repeatedly over the same spot on the page I was reading. I then looked up and had a giant smile and giggle waiting for me.

It was getting a bit much for me and my bladder was reminding me that I had consumed a large amount of water prior to my departure for the agency so I asked for directions to the bathroom. After walking down the hall I came up to the bathrooms, but my attention was quickly diverted to the matching set of cock and balls couches in the waiting area outside the bathrooms. As you can see above, there is no other description for them. If I didn't have just cause to wonder how crazy, eccentric or gay I'd have to be to survive in this industry, I did now.

After returning to the reception area, I kindly asked Miss Stainedlip when I could expect to be seen as I had a very pressing professional engagement coming up. She told me that it would only be 5 more minutes. A figure I was amazed that she could come up with seeing as how she didn't place or receive any phone calls or messages to suggest that would be the case. As it turns out, her 5 minutes turned out to be 15 and I was more than annoyed with her.

Finally I got into the office and met with an agent who I thought was young to be in her position, but what the hell did I know. She introduced herself and she actually seemed nice enough and somewhat normal. She started into her shpiel and started asking me some questions about my background, activities, languages, abilities scars, tattoos... I had to cut her off and tell her I had absolutely no experience whatsoever and further more, that this whole thing was a bit of a joke. She looked mildly offended so I clarified explaining to her that I had been the victim of a small practical joke but was going through with it all for the sheer hell of it.

She said that she could see why I may have been signed up by my friends complimenting me on my eyes and the fact that I was really personable and easy going about it all. I just explained to her that I, for the lack of a civilized term, quite frankly didn't give a fuck and was going along with the nothing ventured, nothing gained motto and that if I wasn't what they were looking for, no big deal. When she showed me that some of the contracts they secured for their models added up to $4000 take home per day after agency fees for simple things as a print campaign, I began thinking it might just be a big deal.

We shook hands and she told she'd be in contact with me in 3 or 4 days if the agency liked me for whatever category my goofy mug fit in and we'd go from there. I left her office and quickly took one last survey of the kaleidoscope of krazy I saw before me. I duly took note of one last big grin and noticed the pink triple velcro shoes she was wearing and thought to myself, fuck those are cool. I'd love to see anyone else there try and pull that off.

Fortunately for me, the exit was on my right and my lack of ambiturning ability was hidden from the modeling world for at least another day.

A 5 Point Post

The Good: My sister recently bought a new blue Mini Cooper with money she'd been saving for the last few years of work. She decided to name the thing Paddington after narrowing her choice of appropriate "English" names down. She bought it standard and after a few (trying) days of teaching, she had it mastered. My sister is wee just under 5'1" so it's a perfect fit for her. When she picked it up from the dealership, she let my brother drive it home since she didn't know at the time how to drive it. This was a big honour for Jeff so as a little show of thanks, he went about finding a little Paddington Bear doll. While my sister was at work, he tucked the little Paddy into the driver's seat of the big Paddy and fastened the seatbelt and left it to be discovered at a later point. When my sister found it later, she came back into the house with all the happiness and surprise of a 5 year old having found exactly what she'd asked for on Christmas morning. It was so cute.

The Bad: Miscommunication and unfortunate circumstances... Let me preface this by saying that I had been worn right down and was tired beyond reason and she was just welcoming her monthly visitor.I recently pissed off a friend of mine. We have a pretty easy going friendship with no strings attached and it has suited both of us very well. Before I left on my trip she and I had been talking on the phone when she asked why I was single and why I didn't have a good girl in my life and I told her I had one until she decided to get rid of me. From here things get a little foggy. She said something along the lines of her saying that she'd want to be with me if she wasn't so wrong for me. In my head and heart I know that I could never date this girl so I didn't argue, but that's not the point at hand here. After she'd said that, I think I verbally agreed with her and then I said something, which for the life of me I can't remember what it was, and it pissed her off something mighty. I was trying to say that I liked what we had going and that it was good, but somehow I managed not to get that message across and had her get a "little" upset at me. She promptly said a quick piece and hung up. I still don't know what I said...

The Funny (but not really): Some of the excuses being pandered about by men being caught in gay scandals. I'm not going on an anti-gay thing here. I love gay people, after all, the more there are, the more women become available to the dating pool and hey, if you only women go after you're only attractive to half of the population out there. Poor Senator Craig from Idaho alleged he was a victim of entrapment and that the under cover police officer had been the one soliciting sex in the bathroom of an airport. That at least isn't as fishy as the one offered up by the Vatican Priest Monsignor Tommaso Stenico who, when caught on camera, said he was merely doing psychoanalytic research and was merely "pretending" to be gay to gather information on those who damage the church with homosexual activity... While both have more or less committed professional suicide, you gotta give the priest more points for originality.

The Sad: New Era, the caps' manufacturer, and the New York Yankees — whose famous interlocking NY cap features a choice of a red and black bandanna design for the Bloods, blue and gray for the Crips and a gold crown for the Latin Kings and Major League Baseball is deliberately marketing to gang members and wannabes to make more money off a horrible trend.

The Down Right Odd:An Australian woman was killed by a pet camel given to her as a 60th birthday present after the animal apparently tried to have sex with her. She was killed at her family's sheep and cattle ranch. The 10-month-old male camel weighing about 150 kilograms knocked the woman to the ground, lay on top of her, then exhibited what police suspect was mating behaviour. A police spokesperson said, "I'd say it's probably been playing, or it may be even a sexual sort of thing," adding the camel almost suffocated the family's pet goat by straddling it on several occasions. The woman was given the camel in March as a birthday present from her husband and daughter. It is not known if the camel's exposure to the other barn yard stock had anything to do with its state of arousal especially given the close proximity of the sheep. There are un-confirmed reports the camel may have some Welsh or New Zealand blood lineage which could explain a few things.

Full Moon Rising

So, I was riding home on my fair Lady Limerick, when I happened across a cab full of very attractive girls on their way home from a night out on the town. As I got closer to the cab, I could see that there were three girls in the back, but I could only see the faces of two as they smiled while looking back out of the cab.

I looked closer and noticed that the third girl in the back on the passenger's side was standing up, with her skirt hiked up to her waist hanging and shaking her ass out the window for all to see. Now, Steph I instantly thought about you, and I don't know why..., when I saw this girl. I wondered, is this worthy to be labeled as a "supertard" moment? Feel free to poll the others and get back to me.

Now I've had girls do weird and sometimes very funny things in-front of me on the highway as I've passed them by on my bike after the clubs have let out. Smiling, winking, hanging and waving out the windows are par for the course but this took the (moon)cake. I couldn't help but laugh at the sheer hilarity of the situation and the girls in the back were obviously enjoying it too. I can only imagine what the cabbie was thinking. At the very least, I don't think he'd need to expect a tip after filing enough images to fill his jolly trunk for many a tosser's night.

So as I got closer as I passed, of course on the passenger side, I noticed the other girls waving me towards the cab. As I drew even, one of them made the motion for me to slap the bare ass that was hanging out the window. Now, who was I to say no to a request like that.? With a little precision riding, I managed to satisfy their request while probably scaring the crap out of the cabbie and the cars directly behind us...

I figured hell, how often does something like this happen...

Steph?

: P

Now This Is What I'm Talking About.

I've long been a fan of British culture and on occasion their women. :P This to me sums up all that is right with thems folk across the pond.

Too often we relegate our seniors to tight, forgotten quarters where they are left to their own devices to cohort with others in like circumstances about what used to be and why the rest of the world sucks. Not our problem if we don't have to deal with them right?

To me, this is the perfect solution. Ok, I may have a professional bias to this of course, but think of it in a good way. They're out getting fresh air, they're participating in socially conscious activities and they get respect from the younger, able bodies would have nothing to do with them if it weren't for such a progressive thinking social program. God bless.

My Two Pence Worth (an excerpt from the biography of Jimmy Ryan, fallen rock star)

My arrival in London was met with little fan fare. I had gotten used to porn queens and throngs of adoring women showering me in tidbits from their unmentionables drawers as soon as I stepped out, beshaded, from whichever plane I had arrived on.

My disappointment was palpable as grey skies loomed, threatening but failing, like The Bravery, to live up to their potential. My limo was nowhere to be found and I had to sift about the common as though I were but a speck amidst a dripping shower of colourless faces. Had I been forgotten in such a short absence?!?! My agent was so fired.

Celebrity is such a fickle and fantastic thing. The women, the blow, the cars, the complimentary face towels and pillow-top candies. Fick, what the shit was up? Culture had spun and lost me from a 45 to a 74 min crystalline coaster.

Somehow counter culture's 'Cid And The Smack Bunnies had pussied into a putrid slur of rhyme spinners whose talent couldn't amount up to the monetary worth their self-given names suggested. I want my 50p back. If not that at least a 20p spot to use the phone box. What about a mobile you ask, seems if you let lapse a bill payment or 5 they cut you off. Virgin ... Funny how with a name like that, one entity knows exactly how to fuck you.

Phone coinage in hand, its method of acquisition un-mentionable lest some equal rights, pro-soy milk conglomeration throw up their arms and hang me from the dangling pit hair, I rang up the only stupid c*nt I figured would be half arsed to pick me up. Funny enough, that's exactly what his nickname was in China when we lived there 6 years ago.

Jason answered and agreed on one condition, that I find him a father's day card for a man whose style I can only describe as Sahara-esquely dry. I acquiesced half thinking it would be fun to sort him out with a picture of a tot hugging his father with a caption underneath sayin, "this is a hug you rigid sod, would it have killed you to give me one growing up?"

After some consideration I decided against it, but had I known it would have taken me back into the bowels of Heathrow to find one, I might just as well have xeroxed my own middle finger and sent that off instead and watched with glee when the envelope was opened. The devil, I know.

After settling with a classic hot rod driving in gray and white glory into the desert, I set about finding my ride. I was half expecting him to have some sort of luxury sports car or something fancy so imagine my surprise when I found him with his car in all its green Mini glory. Mildly shaken, yet somewhat not stirred, it all seemed par for the course.

He hadn’t changed one bit since the last time I saw him; Disgustingly good build and looks of mixed heritage, a familial fortune waiting in the wills. Every friggin’ reason in the world to loathe him, yet a clown prince melded with panache and utter absurdity he was, and God was it good to see him.

I’d heard also that he’d gotten a proper gig with some degree of professional responsibility but I just couldn’t see it. This comedy of errors shackled with propriety… Like me given another chance, a fist full of money, locked in a room of sexy and seductive vices on one side and redemption on the other, it just didn’t seem at all plausible.

After a warm welcome and genuine hug (possible the only real thing I've experienced in at least a fortnight. Well there was Angelique and those were lovel... oh wait, nope.) I was loaded up, luggage wise, and we were off along the M25 to the house in Henley.

Before the all mind numbing, "how're you doin" could get asked, I was informed that it was my duty as passenger to keep my eyes open for any nursery that was open. I even had my limits when it came to a potential dating pool and I was in no way going to participate in anything that could see me back in the hag rags for all the wrong reasons. (again)...

After my slightest "what the fuck" protest, he explained that we had to find a flowering plant or two for his father's present. I thought the card would have sufficed especially since I had been the one to find it, and didn't even want to think of what I'd have to go through to la-botanize myself...

As we drove I began to wonder if strapping myself in was enough protection. I'm a firm believer in putting on a helmet when the situation deems it necessary... but I figured a trip down the motorway to pick up plants was a safe bet not to be one of those. As we flung again and again through the round-about while Jason consulted his mother which exit we should take, I nearly opted for the open door... surely death would be the end result either way.

After shopping for orchids and the what not we did the next most non-gay thing possible and hit up the vendors outside the nursery for ice lollies... "Ah sorry, out of money at the moment, do you mind?"... "Fuck you, Ok".

TBC'd

NAMED!

So after some consideration and suggestions (some constructive, others curious) I've settled on a name for the bike. I've gone with my friends Ashley and Tom (S'Mat)'s suggestions and combined them. Going forward, her friends will know her as Jade, but to the rest of the world she'll be Lady Limerick.

It seems that those were the only suggestions that seemed to heed my asking to go along with the female theme, but it's not by default that those were the winners. As Ashley said, "JADE, DAMMIT, JADE. Asian hooker = sleek, sexy, fast. Typically cleaner than the North American variety. You may tell yourself it's not good for you or your bank account, but dammit, it's fun and you'll tell your friends about your experiences riding her. :D"

Tom justified his suggestion by adding, "one of the names i thought of briefly seems to be nicer for your baby: Limerick? its from the emerald isle and all... plus, adding a 'Lady' in front would feminize a charm... so how about Lady Limerick?"

Both of them seemed to key in on the fact that my baby is green, and though my bike friends call her the pickle and Steph lovingly wanted to call her Kermit, it'll be Lady Limerick, Jade. I just hope LL Cool J doesn't get wind of it and whine about identity infringements.

So it has been decided and it will be good.

P.S. Oh, and I swear I will get back to a "regular" blogging schedule now that the work month from hell is over and I don't have to work every weekend of the month. Next up, the long put off and hopefully eagerly anticipated blog entry about the first leg of the London experience from my June trip.

Name My Baby

Ok people. Indie needs your help with coming up with a name for my baby. As you can see she is sexy, has style and a little killer instinct. I've been trying to come up with a name for her, but as of yet, haven't found anything that has stuck. The facebook crowd have come up with Jade, which I kinda like, but my sister thinks that sounds too much like an Asian hooker's name... Some of the other facebookers have also taken to referring to her as the pickle... I see it, but don't like it.

So I leave it to you to come up with any suggestions for a name for HER. Yes, female names would be best, but then again, I can't control it if you come up with something that is clearly not, like the pickle...

Please don't support the pickle movement. I still have some faith in you people. :P

Like We Both Saw A Ghost

Ah, back to the world of the Blog...

I've been working on an entry for the London part of my trip but it's been slow coming. Instead, I left it be for a while hoping to get into the right groove to finish it. You'll understand when you read it... I figured that I'd maybe witness something interesting to write about in the mean time. Had I known what exactly would have unfolded for me to write about, I'm pretty sure I would have traded that experience for the tedium and skullduggery that usually inspires my prosaic literary endeavours... (j/k)

It's taken me the better part of my week to reconcile everything in my head and heart and seeing as how I tend to wear the latter on my sleeve, I needed to get some dry cleaning done before I resumed my type. Last Sunday was the last day of the International Jazz Festival that is held annually in the Beaches area of my division. We'd worked the previous 3 days and the day before, I'd played 2 full rugby games in the stifling heat and then worked a full 10 hour shift so needless to say, I was pretty ground down by the time Sunday had come around. Add into the mix that we had a short turn around from the end of shift 2AM earlier that morning to be back in again at 10AM and I was at the point where a teething infant could've taken me out. I'd have cried, but the press would've loved the photo op.

Most of the team was pretty wiped as well so we figured it'd be a good start to the day if we went out for a group breakfast. It was decided that we would meet up at Vi Vetha, a nice but not over-priced restaurant in the east end of our territory. After a healthy selection and a few jokes, many having me as the ass end of them, we attempted to settle our bill. We were politely told by our waitress that someone else who had been dining in the restaurant had already taken care of our bills and just wanted to say thanks and to keep up the good work. We all thought that was a grand gesture considering the venom that is at times directed our way. After leaving the waitress a massive tip we made our way out. As we exited via the front patio, I looked out to the last table before the exit. At first, I noticed a nice red top, and then long brown hair, and then a pair of very familiar and striking green eyes that looked like and OH MY GOD, they WERE Jeannie's...

I hadn't seen her in almost a year and a half since the night we broke up and this was NOT the way I thought our first meeting would go. Our eyes seemed to lock and I couldn't tell if that sensation coming over me was relief or a mild dose of cardiac arrest. Oh yes, and there was also the slight matter of the company she was in for breakfast. I had taken a quick look at the guy and immediately knew that he was the fortunate one who had started to see her after me. In case some of you are scratching your heads, refer to this before you continue reading. Caught up? Good. I figured this wasn't the place to get all tongue tied and goopy so I put my best face and foot forward and then proceeded to smile and say hi to her. I don't know what it was, but she had the complete deer in the head lights thing going on, like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't have been. I hadn't the slightest that she was in the area seeing as how her home was about an hour away but it didn't take me too long to figure out she had been visiting him. (Sign me up for rocket science class)

I should have had some clue that I would run into her in the near future after I had run into her friend and travel mate, Lauren. A few days earlier, Lauren was walking with her mother and had just said to her, "this is James' area, I wonder if we'll see him tonight" when I rode past them. I doubled back to talk and she had told me that Jeannie had mentioned that I had gone traveling and asked if the trip had been good. We chatted and caught up briefly and I left thinking, hmmm, it's nice to know that Jeannie still thought and talked about me even if just in passing. I just didn't know that I would see her that soon after seeing Lauren. Things coming in 3, I figure, it'll only be a matter of time until I run into their other roommate Katie, but I digress.

I stood there barely believing what was unfolding before me was actually going on. I can't remember for the worth of me, all of what I said, but I do remember her tripping over herself and asking me the same things twice. I made sure not to blither like an idiot or go all doe eyed on her lest I lose any foothold I had on the situation. She introduced the guy she was with just as Mike. I shook his hand and introduced myself all the while silently wishing to myself that he'd die a fiery death or at the very least develop leprosy somewhere in the groin region. After that, I had a quick silent chuckle to myself as I really don't think that she knows that I know who he is in her life and if he didn't know before who I was, he would know in very short order. I seized the opportunity and excused myself from the chance meet (and personal implosion) citing my intrusion on their meal and the need for me to get back to my duties. I told her that it was nice seeing her and said good bye.

I walked to the other side of the patio where our bikes had been locked up and said under my breath to my partner, "and now I'm going to hang myself"... :P He didn't quite understand why at the time and as he explained, just thought that she was someone I knew and might have been an ex. When I told him that was Jeannie, the "OOOOOOooooohhhh" he dropped said it all. As we geared up, another customer sitting on the patio engaged me in conversation. As it turned out, she was still in my line of sight, but I made it a point not to look obviously in her direction. I could see when he got up to either pay or relieve himself that she reached for her cell and feverishly typed out a text message to whom I can only assume was Lauren. I wonder what that message said... He came back and the two of them left, and I couldn't help but notice the distance or the lack of closeness there was between them.

The whole experience left me in a daze and I almost got into an accident riding away from the restaurant. I was shaken and visibly put off enough that the guys even stopped making jokes at my expense for the day. I had some time later to think and it was something that I can't really put in words, but the brief moment of silence where our eyes were the only connection being made, I knew there were unfinished matters between the two of us. I don't mean to say that I thought we were going to get back together; that would just be asinine. There was just something left wanting. As for the other guy, I honestly don't have any malice towards either of them, unless of course he is a royal douche bag and mis-treats her. Life is always about change and the chances you take or don't. Her plans to travel were constantly being delayed and in the mean time she started seeing him. I still believe she was right in her reasons for breaking up with me and can honestly find no reason to be upset other than pride. It will be interesting to see what if anything unfolds from here going forward. I'm still trying to process it, and from what some of my friends have opined, she most likely is doing the same, if not more so.

I guess if there was a way to run into her, despite my internal mashing, that was the best circumstance. Everything that is there to know is out there. There were no comfort blankets of guy and girl friends for either of us to wrap ourselves in. I'd like to think that I handled it well and having recently read a Cosmo article on what not to do when running into an ex, the chances of that are good. :P

There's Something New

Ok Ok Ok

If you look slightly to the right and up a bit, you will find something that you all have been dogging me about.

Enjoy.

Ah Amsterdam... Part 3

The next day the American Crew saw the Anne Frank museum and it was incredibly simple, but completely moving. It's one thing to read about an event form history in a book but a completely different thing to be in right in the middle of it. Good on Amsterdam for keeping the house as it was and making sure her message was not silenced. I had seen the museum the day before yet somehow managed to forget to blog about it... I'm a dumbass.

In the mean time while the rest of them were checking Anne's house out. I wandered about and found a really vivid photo exhibit of wildlife. I don't know why it struck me as much as it did, but it must have been good for me to stand in the rain to look through it all. After that I went to the old town square and made friends with a horse. I don't know what its name was, but I assumed him to be my friend after I let him eat the apple I had previously been eating. Now I could be wrong, but how cool is it to have a horse as a friend, so leave me be.

After a couple of hours and the Texans managing to get lost around the corner from the brewery. : ), we all managed to meet up for the tour of the old Heineken Brewery. The cost of the tour is 11 Euros or $15.85 Cdn and $15.15 US for my southern readership. Included in the cost are tokens for 3 glasses of beer and 1 gift upon the conclusion of the tour. Upon entering the front door, we were greeted by a girl that was positively something wow. She had awesome wavey almost curly hair, really bright blue/green eyes and again had very natural and un-assuming good looks to her. So naturally I paid her a compliment and was quickly joined by one of the Texans, Kate who totally adored her hair. I think between the two of us, we made her freakin' year! I just figured we were off to a good start...

After going through some exhibits from the origins of the brewery to some of the advertising campaigns run throughout the decades, we came upon the first bar. It was rather normal and we had our one beer that our green token alloted us. After some interactive exhibits and a stop in the gift shop, we came to the last stop. Quite fittingly it was another bar, this one themed like a busy pub or club. The way it was SUPPOSED to work was that we had 2 orange tokens left for 2 more glasses of beer. Most of the other visitors had their 2 beers and left. We were not fully prepared to leave the cozy confines of our emerald chamber and were determined to mine more out of our 2 orange tokens. Cue the parade of good looking Texan women to the bar...

One round became two and eventually three. We came up with a simple system; When the guys had their rotation behind the bar, we sent in the women to do whatever they could (within the realm of decency) to get as much beer as they could with as little cost to the orange bank as possible. At its best, they would each come back with 4 beers in hand and still have their orange tokens. This day was progressing just swimmingly but it got just a touch better. The girl that was working the entrance when we arrived, paid us a visit when she finished her shift behind the bar. As she walked by, she very discreetly deposited a handful of orange tokens in one of the girls' hand. What was supposed to have been a 3 beer tour turned into a 9 beer blow out. Needless to say when the lot of us popped back out into the mid afternoon sun, some of us didn't exactly know what was going on. Not bad for 15 bucks and change.


After a well deserved siesta we caught dinner and wrapped the night up with a few more drinks in town. What you thought we'd stop there? C'mon. Though with the bars closing at midnight, I think we were spared a horrible next morning. We wrapped the night up and I think I arrived back in the room sometime after 2 AM. I had previously mentioned that I had 5 female roommates in my hostel room. I don't think any of them were happy to see me when I got back into the room. The girl on the top bunk closest to the door shot me a look that I can only compare to a vampire recoiling from the searing crack of the morning sun. I was mildly amused and scared at the same time. Or maybe I was just still swimming in it. I did feel bad though when I found out later the next morning that she had to be out the door by 6 in order to catch a plane to her next destination. That feeling didn't last too long. :)

Later that day, I said my goodbyes to the Texans. They were such a kick ass group and if any of you guys are reading this, I will be down to visit as promised. I met up with my friend Bryan who I had first met in China 6 years ago. As with my friend Christian in Stockholm, he was pretty much exactly the same as I had remembered him. The next couple of days were spent catching up and falling right back into the old ways. It's funny how time and distance can physically separate but purity in simplicity is the key to sustaining any friendship and the bond was just as strong now as it was back then. Bryan and I spent pretty much every day together in China and it was so nice to be able to see him again. Of course the conversation wasn't the only thing that was brought back en vogue from Beijing... We also reverted back to some of social habits that almost got me arrested in Tien An Men Square, but that's another story for another time. I'll just leave you with a photographic and typical goodbye from Amsterdam.

Ah Amsterdam... Part 2

So after having met a porn goddess, an earth dwelling angel and then being punch lined to death by a store-front hooker, I found myself wandering back to the hostel from the train station as all sensible forms of public transportation ceased to operate after 12:30 AM... For a city that has such a good public transport system, I found it odd that it all seemed to shut down, leave a few buses which I had no plans on boarding lest I end up in some remote part of town to be captured and enslaved in an underground clog finishing factory. Lost among all of that excitement, I even forgot to tell you that I had visited a sex museum. Seriously...

Upon my return to the hostel, I ended up meeting a couple of guys who were from the States and had been back packing throughout Eastern Europe before arriving in Amsterdam. They suggested I join them to check out the area around the hostel and partake in some of the allowances afforded by the liberal culture... I figured it would be a good way to meet and get to know some new people so I figured why not. As a testament to the quality of the Canadian product, I would have to say from what I remember from those hazier days that our homegrown is a spot better than the local fare sampled to me on that night. At any rate they were a couple of cool cats and we made plans to hit up a few sites later the next day.

As it turns out I ended up spending the first part of the day exploring the museums on my own as the other two had already seen what I was planning to the day before. Eventually I ended up at the Van Gogh Museum. I had hatched a plan well before hand to see the exhibit in an enhanced sensory mode. I figured when in Rome... So in due time a fungal fantasy became an artistic reality where colours melded and images entranced and almost 4 hours passed by. The Van Gogh collection itself was spell binding, but there was also an additional exhibit by an artist surnamed Maxwell. His style, dark carnivalesque images with dark coloured bases, accented with sharp, bright colours and that only added to the entrancement.

After a nap back at the hostel, my body having seemed to have been returned to me in my sleep, I set about trying to find Pete and Jay. Forward thinking would have seen us exchange room numbers the night before so we could find each other at the agreed upon meeting time. As it was though, that wasn't the case. To make things even better, the hostel had 5 floors with about 5 rooms on each floor. I didn't exactly feel like knocking on each door to find them. I picked the forth floor and ran into a big group of people, who from some of their t-shirts, were from Texas A&M University. We exchanged the typical hostel questions of where we were from and where we had been and how long we were staying. Then I explained that I was looking for 2 other Americans, but had no idea which room they were in.

Normally this would have been rather awkward, but one girl, Megan volunteered herself to find them for me and went about knocking on the door she guessed Pete and Jay were staying behind. As it turns out there were two American guys in that room, but not the two I was looking for. In the end, I gave up looking for them and was quickly adopted as an honourary Texan and pseudo Long Horn for the night. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise as this lot was a laugh a second pretty much. We ended up across the road at an Italian restaurant and I don't know how the waiter didn't lose his mind serving us. We were easily the loudest group in the joint and even broke a few decorations during the course of our dining. The destruction wasn't limited to inanimate objects as a couple of the girls actually managed to injure themselves while eating and telling stories. I swear, it was one of those things you just had to be there to witness.

We eventually met up with Pete and Jay and had a few beers in the main square of the bar district. I was shocked to find out though that the bars in Amsterdam all closed up around midnight. I figured that was a touch odd for a city with the reputation it did. It was suggested that most people are so stoned / spent that there really isn't any point for the bars to stay open past midnight. As it turned out, there were clubs still open into the wee hours, but seeing as how none of us were club people, that did us no good. We ended up calling it an early night having consumed a reasonable enough amount of alcohol during the course of dinner and in the square to see us off to dreamland in a happy state.

Ok, this is getting a bit long so I guess there will a part 3 coming up shortly.

HOME

So it would seem that I've arrived home and have already gone through 4 days back at work. The trip was a blur and I will update the rest of Amsterdam and get onto London, Dresden, and Geneva in due time.

At this moment, I am working on uploading the photos and figuring out how the hell I am going to show them all to you.

Looming Large Over London

So there's nothing quite like waking up and finding out there was an active bomb ticking away no more than 5 minutes away while I slept... So that was the reality of my morning today. Good thing the good guys caught on and defused the thing before it went off. Not a good way to cap off the trip.

After going for a brief walk, I decided to walk through Trafalgar Square. I was enjoying a stroll when all of a sudden a hockey game broke out right before my eyes. Being a good Canadian boy, this brought a tear to my eye. Ok, it didn't just break out. It was actually part of the 2'nd annual Canada Day celebration in London. They transformed the whole of Trafalgar Square into a Canadian theme park. Hell, a free concert to boot with Sam Roberts playing will be a good end to a turbulent day in the city.

Just a little hi and hello to let you know Indie is well and good despite people trying to blow up his fun.

Will catch you up proper with all of the events before London shortly.

Stay sexy.

Indie

Ahhhhhhh Amsterdam Part 1

Last I left you, I was in a mad scramble from the personal abode of a hockey club's admin girl back to my friend's and then to the airport. So hurried was I that I completely forgot to mention the lovely Mariella, a very intelligent and attractive Greek girl, not that we should hold that against her, on the bus to the airport. Who knows, maybe I've worked out a place to stay should I ever visit Greece. Now which one of you fellow bloggers is responsible for turning me into a man whore? Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm? Seriously, I hope more men figure out that all it takes is to say hi and just be happy to meet someone.

So I arrived in Holland and a quick train and tram ride later, I was at my hostel in the middle of the bar district and not too far from the museumplein or district as they'd have you refer to it as. I checked in to my room, which I had signed up for as a co-ed shared accommodation for 6, and was a little shocked to find 3 girls asleep seemingly waiting for my entrance to wake them. I figured, hmmm, the guys must be out already. I'll meet them later and we'll have a good night. Wrong. As it turned out, my other roommates were 2 other girls. So me and 5 girls. You'd think that my stars had aligned yet again for me, but alas, no joy.

No worries though, I grabbed my trusty camera bag and after I filled you all in on Helsinki, set about discovering the city. The layout of the city is awesome and everything is planned out by sections, seemingly like they were twinned with a side of a rolling dice, your destination set forth by a chance roll and delivered by an incredibly easy tram system. I went for a walk up the main road in the area where I was and as I did so, I nearly threw my neck and back out as she caught my eye as she walked in the opposite direction. Now girls, you know it's true... you know damn right what thin white pants look like when you put them on... so that's all I'll say on that. She was just incredibly fit and I just said to myself, wow.

Upon returning down the street from my brief adventure, I stopped into the pharmacy to pick up some shampoo and tooth paste. Easy and boring enough, until I went to pay for said items. Once at the counter, I took a look to my immediate left as I noticed out of the corner of my eye that there was a rather tall woman standing beside me. At first glance, she looked like Tera Patrick, who for those of you who don’t know, is a very famous porn star. I had an amused and quizzical look about me and thought, nah… Only one way to find out so I allowed myself for ever so brief of a moment to look at her boobs, as they are her natural claim to fame. After just barely noticing her assets, I noticed the sizeable diamond ring she had on. I then noticed her slightly bigger and way more tattooed male companion lurking close by. She and I smiled at each other. She knew I knew who she was, but must have been relieved that I left it at that and didn’t make a scene. Celebrity has never really fazed me before and I wasn’t going to let a porn star change that, though it would have been a reasonable exception. Can’t say the same about the guy lurking about outside as I left though. I knew then that my stay in the city would be an eventful one.

Down the road from the pharmacy, I happened upon a candy shop and a la Homer Simpson, I twiddled my fingers and said aloud, "Oooh, candy". I went inside and what should I see before me but the girl in the white pants. I couldn't help but look again as I set about filling my sweets bag with sour apples, jelly bellies, cola bottles and the what not. This time around I managed to see her face and it was angelic and un-assuming, the heart meltingest kind in my books. She was ahead of me in line and paid for her bag of candy, and I did the same and figured that I'd say something to her since I was there and hell she was just something wow.

So I caught up to her just outside the front door of the shop and just said outright and not even knowing if she'd understand what I was saying to her, "excuse me miss, I just wanted to let you know that you had caught my eye and I just wanted to let you know that I thought you are absolutely stunning." You'd think my next thought would have been, shit what have I done, but that actually didn't happen. Her face lit up even more than it had been before and she said back to me, "wow, thank you, I'm really flattered by that, you completely made my day". Actually, she had just made my day, but that's neither here nor there. She asked where I was heading and upon me telling her, she said that she was going in that direction to catch the tram to her ailing mother's. So we walked and talked for a little bit. Actually I think I floated over on a thin cloud layer. We said our goodbyes, exchanged no more than smiles and I found out that Dutch people kiss cheeks 3 times to send people off.

Later that night after I had let myself come down from the bliss that Roseanna had sent me about with, I caught a bite to eat and made my way in to the infamous Red Light District. From what I had seen of the rest of the city, I thought to myself that Amsterdam's reputation as being a complete gong show wasn't deserved. That was until I ventured into the streets and more so the alleys of the infamed district. Holy God. This place is an absolute zoo and a world removed from the norm that's for sure. I still can't get over window shopping for hookers. Like think about that. I wandered pretty much all of the alleyways and thought to myself that some of these women were way too good looking to be hooking out of a display window. Then I saw some of their co-workers who made me almost lose my breakfast, lunch and dinner. I honestly think I walked by one window and said aloud to myself, "now Jimbo, that was a dude".

Seriously now, they pay rent for the window and room space. Girls or guys like that must surely lose money plying their trade. Cause if they actually do enough business to pay the rent, I am going to lose it. (again) The area is truely something that you all have to experience for yourselves if you haven’t yet already. Live blazing red adverts for live sex shows, porno shacks lining pretty much every corner. Temptation was everywhere and anything you could ask for was available to you. Walk by drug dealers offering in broken french-english if you wanted eggstazy or coken amused me at first but then quickly became annoying. I even had to resort to playing the dumb Asian tourist with the camera out, pretending not to understand English…

Ok, I hear you all moaning now, pictures, pictures pictures… I will do my best to upload a few tomorrow. No promises though as I am on a borrowed computer. But for now, that was only day 1. I have to still clear some more haze and figure out what the hell days 2 through 5 did to me.

Quote of the night...

"Come here, talk to me. where are you going?"

"I'm just going for a walk"

"You go to a forrest for a walk, you go to the Red Light District for a fuck!"

Till later, stay super,

Indie.

Hey Now Helsinki.

Hello Helsinki, at least that was what I said when I got off the plane. I don't know what it is but in Scandinavia so far, there has been an absolute breath taker waiting in line at the baggage carousel. It's the perfect way to welcome someone to the city that's for sure.

So I found myself in Finland, not knowing what to expect. Having been to Stockholm and finding out that the sun doesn't hardly ever set, I knew I was in for long days. That was all fine and good for me as I had to fit a lot into the two days that I was going to be visiting. This time out though, I had no guide to show me around. My friend Kirsi, was supposed to have been there, but after I had planned my trip, she was sent out to a work trip in West Africa. She was nice enough to leave the keys to her apartment with a friend and he met me at the train station when I arrived and set me about on my way. She had an amazing apartment too.

After I got settled in I did a quick tour of the city. It's small enough that you can literally walk around it in an hour. Suited me just fine and I got to take some good pictures without the hustle and bustle of a tourist crowd. Now Steph if you're reading this, this is akin to your story about borrowing your friend's digi-cam. After I got home and settled in for bed, I wanted to put some clothes away into a proper cabinet instead of having it bunched up in my backpack. I opened the bedside cabinet and happened to find a small plastic bag... The contents of which were pleasurable... Again, in case this is read by my friend, and in all likelyhood it will, let's just say, "you go girl, at least you know how to have fun with yourself". I always thought she was so prim and proper. I even refer to her as the definition of a lady. Oh how I should have known. :P

So the next day, I set about going to Hartwell Arena to visit the home rink of my favourite Finnish hockey team, Jokerit (team logo above). I thought I'd go and pick up a souvenir from their team store for my brother as one of his favourite players is from Helsinki and played for that club before going to play in North America. To my shock and dismay, the arena was closed and the shop barren. I called the number for the store that I had been given in town. I nice sounding girl named Riikka answered and I explained that I was a crazy Canadian on a hockey sojourn and was looking for something to bring back to my brother. She told me to come into the arena office and she would see what she could do.

I got buzzed into the arena and made my way down to the office. I was greeted by a lovely girl who tried her hardest to find someone and something to give to me to take home from the hockey club. In the end though, her efforts were for naught. I was disappointed so I setted for the next best thing. If I couldn't get something from the hockey team, I'd just take one of their employees instead. So I asked her if she had plans for later, and she didn't so I had myself a date. Long and short of it, is that we met up had a nice walk about the city and then made dinner at my friend's place. We started up a movie and then got called out to a park to chill out with some more of her friends and have a few drinks in the open air.

The night or morning ended off at about 4AM. My flight for Amsterdam left at 9:30AM... So at 6 I made my way back to Kirsi's to shower up and tidy up her apartment before I left. I was aiming to be back at the train station at 7:30 to catch the shuttle to the airport. Things ended up taking a little longer and I ended up missing that one and reset my aim for the 7:50 shuttle. I ended up missing that one as well and was a little concerned because the next one departed at 8:10 and wouldn't arrive at the airport until 8:45 leaving me a grand 45 minutes before scheduled take off time.

By the grace of God, I made it onto the plane. I promptly fell asleep a short time after take off and splet pretty much the whole flight over. I woke up in time to catch the landing as opposed to my arrival in London when I realized we were landing when the thump of the wheels woke me. A train and tram trip later I arrived at the hostel and that's where I will leave you. There will be plenty of stories to fill the next blog whenever that happens to get written.

Happy in the high times or happy in the high times,

Indie

You Had To See It For Yourself.

Why Planes Crash - The best free videos are right here
So hellooo from Stockholm! Tomorrow I actually leave for a quick few days in Helsinki, but first the news up until now. As is tradition for me, I was not completely prepared for this trip as I was essentially packing my ass out the door when it came time to leave for the airport. Hell, I didn't even feel as though I was even on vacation. My mind was not into it yet. I'd just that day, finished working 20 of 22 days in a row and a total of 26 out of the last 32...

In the end, it looks as though I may have over packed but oh well, I'll survive. The flight over to London was great as I had a nice girl named Chelsea sitting beside me. Too bad, or lucky for her, I spent most of the flight sleeping while she drank coffee and watched movies. We also had a stewardess serving our section of the plane who looked like she would cry if she was forced to smile. Sad but funny at the same time. Damn just wasted material for a 5 pt'er.

I had to transfer airlines and as a result terminals to catch my connector to Stockholm. After I picked up my big travel sack, adorned with very large and obvious Canadian flag, I sweated my way about 15 minutes through a labyrinth of tunnels to get to my departing terminal. Once there, it all seemed easy enough. I checked myself via the automated process and all I had to do was drop off my bag at the counter. That took much longer than it looked like it would seeing as though there were only about 15 people in front of me.

There was an English fellow about in his mid thirties who was lined in the queue just behind me. I thought I'd be nice and make some small talk about the delay. He agreed something to the like and then stood back. I was in the middle of thinking to mysel.. "wake me up before you go-go" What the f... The dude starts singing something that sounded like it was straight out Wham or Duran Duran's track list. I looked quizzically from my spot in line and was oh so close to blurting out, "easy there Simon, you should have stopped with Ordinary World (or maybe sooner) ".

The flight to Stockholm was a breeze as again, I spent most of it sleeping. When we landed in Sweden, I thought I was hallucinating because I thought I'd heard the captain say that the local temperature was 30 degrees Celsius. WTF, I just knew that couldn't be right. How ever would the reindeer make it? Sure to his word though it was. I'd heard the stereotype about gorgeous Swedish women before I arrived, but it couldn't be completely true. Well, I was wrong. All I will say is that she set a very high standard for the rest of this trip and that's saying a lot. At the baggage carousel of all places too.

I was picked up by my friend Christian whom I haven't seen for 6 years in China. It was very much like old times again. We went out the first night within a few hours and proceeded to have a night out in the posh part of town with all the beautiful people. They were tall, their hair was long and perfectly blonde, their skin was glistening and their eyes crystal blue, their looks were easily model calibre. That was just the men!!! The women were more than their equals in that department but good God were they some of the most vapid bunch of self-attributing worth whores out there. Note the distinction from attention seeking fame whores. Those we like around here. I guess that was the price of going out in that part of town. My mind hurts, but my eyes are singing.

I'll admit though that most of the ladies were doing their mother country proud. About doing their actual mothers proud, I'm not sure of that. They also have this thing with the high school graduates all getting little sailor's hats as a sign of their graduation. So it was a bit of a site seeing scores of these good looking (albeit high school) girls running around in their white outfits and their drunken male friends in tow. Yes, at times I felt dirty. Damn this getting older thing.

There is one thing though that I can not get over at all about this country. On the first night, I was sitting outside on the porch enjoying a beer with Christian when I noticed that the sun was still up. I swore to myself that I had recently looked at a clock and it had said 10PM. Turns out the sun doesn't fully go down until well past 11PM here. That was odd. Imagine my shock then when upon exiting a club at just after 3:30AM, the sun was already well on its way to coming back up! I have a picture of a clock tower just before 4AM and it's almost broad daylight!!!

The city of Stockholm itself is beautiful. I encourage you all to get out here at some point. Some of the design and architecture is grand and very eye catching along with some of the other sights. I do have to wonder though what attributes, beyond their genetically blessed looks some of these girls have to offer and what they expect from the world. There were two drop deads outside a soul and groove bar last night and Christian asked them about the white outfit one of them was wearing and if it had anything to do with graduation. Mind you they looked a bit older but it seemed within reason to ask. The blonde's response, "um, move on". Seriously. I bet there are few of you ladies who may have started swinging upon hearing that one. I thought about the old headbutt to the perfectly shaped nose, but I thought I'd be the loveable Canuck and leave it be. But seriously...

Ok, sleep needs me, or vice versa... Will catch you sexy bitches later.

Till Next Time

Hey all, I'm off to Sweden!
Catch you soon from Stockholm.
Crash, how far is that from G-Town?

A 5 Point Post

The good: I'm going on my trip in a few days. I will have worked 20 out of 22 days by the time this Thursday comes along. I finish work at 5PM and I'm on a plane to England at 11PM. Doesn't leave too much time to pack or even get ready for it but so it goes. I think I'll finally realize I'm on vacation when I arrive in Stockholm. There's just been so much going on with everything over the last year and a bit that this little journey should be good for the soul. I've decided to make traveling a priority in my life. Best way to fix a mushed up heart is to fill it with whatever the world can offer. Next up after this, surf camp in Costa Rica. But first up, Europe and I'm sure there will be more than a few sights to get the appreciation for the finer things in life back. Any one want to take a guess as to which country will have the nicest ladies? Ok Crash, no biased answers here.

The bad: Wondering what the hell it is I'm doing with myself. So goes the woes of the 20 something, but really, I just feel kind of out of touch with what is going on out there. I look around at some of the other people I grew up with and I see them and equate their lives to our respective ages and I just don't feel like I'm at the same place with it all. Sure, I have a career, doing exactly what I wanted to do. (how many people can honestly say that) Said career carries with it immense responsibility, hell people's lives are literally in my hands at times!!! Yet being all that as it is, I still just don't see myself as a 27 year old. The ex once told me she sometimes didn't see me having the job I did, because I acted a lot like a 6 year old. Seeing as how she was working with kids that age at that time, she'd know. In a way I was glad that I didn't carry the job home with me and that she could see beyond the uniform, but did it mean more? I've always held the belief that as you grow up, you should never lose your inner child, but at what point does being an adult take hold? Bah.

The funny: I haven't seen a professional sports coach lose his mind quite like this in some time. This is impressive as much as it is embarrassing, but still a good laugh.

The sad: Fuck the sad for once. There's too much of it and I got really put off by something that happened the other day. So for at least one post, there will be none of it. I have had enough. Angry and down is not who this half full half pint is. Grumble grumble grumble.

The down right odd: Police in Naron, Spain pulled over a man in an electric wheelchair who was traveling "at considerable speed" down the highway linking Ferrol with As Pontes, in the northwest of Spain. First off, I'd like to know what a considerable speed is for one of those things. I can just imagine the possibility for after market kits to soup those babies up... The man, who is TETRAPLEGIC and drives his wheelchair with his mouth and chin, had apparently become lost while looking for a brothel. Seriously. Like is there feeling down there? Maybe this part of the section should have fallen under the sad portion of the post, but I guess we as humans all have our needs. But C'MON... Maybe in Spain the ladies are more courteous and compassionate, but are they that far ahead that they have wheel chair accessible brothels?!?!? That'd be something. But then again as I typed that out, I found this from 2001. Steph, this is another reason why I love the Aussies.