This morning, Andrew and I were doing laundry. During the drying cycle Andrew went for a little walk (I stayed at the laundromat to read about RPattz in Entertainment Weekly.

Whilst walking, Steve from Magic Pony accosted Andrew to tell him that The Mighty Boosh Action Figures we wanted were finally in -- after a year!

P.S. Vince isn't dead, he just can't stand up on his own.

So today I was crossing the street at the lights at Queen & Niagara. Because the walking man signal came on, and because I assumed the cyclist barreling down the road would wither stop or do that lazy ass thing where they run the red but go around you, I crossed.

Anyway the cyclist running the red became angered that she had to in anyway adjust her path or speed for someone legally crossing at an intersection and sarcastically yelled "Thanks for nothing" at me. So I said Oh you don't have to thank me for making your running at red light more difficult." Or something like that. And she said. "Oh fuck off!"

What I should have said back was this: "My ears are not toilets! Mind your ruddy language, Madam."

I am committing this phrase to memory as my universal comeback for all pickles and conundrums.

Andrew was listening to Tones on Tail's Go this morning. It made me want to go dancing in some dark, dank club. I couldn't find a video for it, so instead I'll share Love and Rocket's Yin and Yang (the Flowerpot Man).

In a related note, I got a pair of 99 cent leggings at the Laundry Mart. They were dusty old back stock left behind by the old owners. I felt a flood of nostalgia for late 80s, early 80s leggings when I put these German made babies on. They made me want to dance in a dark, dank basement with concrete floors sticky and smelly from beer.

...since last I posted?

So much has happened. I was a zombie for a day to promote the movie Zombieland -- the best rom zom com since Shawn of the Dead. What else? The niece has moved back for the school year. Andrew is in St. John, New Brunswick for Canadian Comedy Awards. I did a thing for DNTO, which you can listen to here.

I am also on another diet, so don't tempt me!

Looks like I picked the wrong week to start a new diet.



Seriously, they are selling this at the CNE. My latest money-making scheme is to have a restaurant that sells Ex food -- Tornado Potatoes, Deep-Fried Mars Bars and 99 cent Spaghetti -- all year round. I'm going to call it "Reckless Endangerment".

And on weekends, we'll have Brunk.

It's end-of-summer cleaning time, so we're involved in a Garage Sale this Sunday. All the nifty things pictured above will be available for cheap, cheap, cheap (the most expensive thing is the modernist vase and its $15).

Check the link above and pictures below for details...

AK and I went to see Ponyo this weekend. It is a wierd and beautiful movie. Not to sound too much like a critic, but it was an ambitious failure -- too much scope equals too many themes that are unresolved or even simply dropped. But still, better to see an ambitious failure than an a prefab, market researched jumble like Transformers II.

Also saw the new trailer for Where The Wild Things Are:



I love the book and am not sure if the Spike Jones/Dave Eggars reimagining will square with my memories, but I'm still gonna see this movie. We also saw a preview for The Fantastic Mr. Fox:



I've never read the book, so no chance that childhood memories will override the story. And the stop motion animation looks great, but AK has qualms about the voice talent. Too obviously George Clooney.

Saw this at the Flamboro Antique Show last weekend. It has scarred my retinas for life!

Here's a two-year-old track by Dan le Sac VS. Scroobius Pip. I have placed it here so I don't forget it.

When selling records, it's important to remember that the more successful that record was, the less money you're likely to get for it. There are some exceptions, of course: The Beatles always sell and Major Hoople's Boarding House never does. But generally, nobody wants Billy Joel vinyl. And if you do, we're having a garage sale on Saturday. Glass Houses can be yours for a buck.

Also, Dick Wolfs is doing the Sketch Comedy Lounge at the Rivoli tonight (Tuesday the 18th), so come on down.

This time last week, I was driving with AK and our friends Craig and Elizabeth back from Chicago. It was my third trip to the Chicagoland area, and whilst there I couldn't help but feel nostalgic. Not only was I reminded of adventures I had on past visits in the 80s (we ate at Ginos East and drove past BaBaLu -- home of the great tapas debacle) and the 90s (They changed the name of the Sears Tower, Wicker Park has become totally gentrified), but also was haunted by memories that weren't mine. All sorts of things reminded me of things that happened in John Hughes films.

And now he's dead.

Another memory came at the Art Institute of Chicago, where we met a security guard with the worst job in the gallery. He had to stand beside a floor mounted piece that was situated around a blind corner to warn people not to "step on the art." The sculpture was situated outside of a room where Bruce Nauman's Clown Torture played on a continuous loop. So for hours, this poor man had to listen to the sounds of a screaming clown while repeating the mantra "please don't strp on the art."

I was also reminded that for at least four years of high school, I kept this picture of Bruce Nauman in my locker.



Bruce Nauman then looked a little like Jim Kerr from Simple Minds, who as we all know, had a big hit song on the Pretty in Pink soundtrack.