What exactly is a Bell Factor?

They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself

2006-11-16T00:12:00.000-05:00

It's utterly amazing to read this thing, see who I was, and realize what I am now.

What came before were the often drunken ramblings of a kid living in/near Toronto. They account for the usual antics of a first/second year univesity student. I had no grasp then on the world really. Life was one crazy time after the next. And while it still is; those are no longer the defining moments of my existence. They are so many more tasty morsels of life that are part of a bigger, much more important existence. Yeah, I still have papers. Yeah, I still party. But let's face it kids, we all grow up sometimes...right? Will I write about those party times again, most likely, but not always.

As of late, my view on school has entirely changed. For one, I give a shit. I am learning things that matter; both to me, and to the course of history, and subesquently you and everyone you know. I sit in my classes and am constantly being amazed. One moment I can feel nothing but scorne and shame for the fate and decisions of humans. I hear of war after war, fought both for valid reasons, and more often for depressing, heart wrenching, and stupid reasons. Stupid. A word that I can rarely apply to such important things, but so fitting. My education at Ryerson has been nothing short of life-changing. I have outstanding professors and peers who continue to amaze me with their eloquence, intelligence and dedication.

I was at an Internation Discussions lecture tonight, one of many in a series put on by students. Genocide. It has happened, and is happening and will probably still happen in the future. What has been done to the people in Sudan, and more specifically Darfur, is enough to turn your stomach. Will we ever achieve a point in history where wars and atrocities are not being committed? I doubt it. That is part of the reason why I get so angry when I don't see people wearing poppies for Rememberance Day. Do they not realize that they have ALL BEEN AFFECTED BY WARS? There is a war going on right now. At this moment people are dying for foolish reasons. Is it because they are fighting for the glory and passion of a nation? No. It is because there are people in power, not only in the United States, but globally, who are narrow minded, prejudiced and hateful. Toleration, of people, beliefs, religion, ethnicity, is a lesson that we all could learn.

Have I really grown up? Probably not. But I do know more, I feel more, I care more; does that make me a better person in the end? I hope so.

Votre maman est chaude, comme un renard.

2006-03-09T00:03:00.000-05:00

Translation: Your mom is hot, like a fox.

Vive le revolution.

Translation: Something about live the revolution... trust me it sounds better with my faux French accent

I've been meaning to write in my blog a little more often, and the night before a paper is due seems as good a time as any.

Translation: I'm procrastinating, big surprise.

So I've chosen to focus on the inequality of man, during the French and Industrial Revolutions. Our papers are to be based on the ideas of thinkers we have had to read in the course.

Translation: I'm tying to stick with what I know, and it may or may not be working. Make that not working.

I sent this MSN Message to Richard as what I may just hand in tomorrow as my essay, "Inequality. Who the fuck cares, let those poor SOBs rot in hell, or Paris, same difference. The End. A paper by Alexandra Bell"

Translation: I'm totally screwed, and probably jealous I've never been to Paris.

They will see us waving from such great heights...

2006-02-08T01:41:00.000-05:00

Hello,

I'm a little drunk, and blogging yet again. I should get my shit together and make a coherent blog. Tonight was half a bottle of wine, rye, and beer. That is trouble. Sometimes I feel like I am living in a cliche! I mean, I'm downtown Toronto... listening to the right bands, doing school, have the home crew, hit the bars when I can afford it, smoke a lot of... you know... Sometimes it's just a little overwhelming.

Everything seems perfect from far away. Bless thee Iron and Wine....

About to descend further into madness.

Catch you crazy, wonderful cats later,

AB *heart*

Woah, Those Streets are CLEAN!

2006-01-11T01:59:00.000-05:00

After me and LInds had an unfortunate run i nm with ARGE NTINIANS!

HEATHER!@!!!! hottest thing since sliced bvreead!

There was a street cleaner. BLOW JOBS WHAT!

IO LOVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEE STREET C:ENSEARER!

KIDNAP THE SANTY CLAUS!!!!!!!!!!

2006-01-11T01:44:00.000-05:00

OMG!

I'm so trashed! Equal to my brithday. It is Adam's birthday! This was the day the real friendship started! JAMAOKE!

Sorry you couldn't make it Swiss Cheese! I am so f''ed!

I have aweseome classes and i keep faling backwards so i am going to just llook at the key borad to type so it ios easier!

The break came adn went without much pomp nor circumstance. I work ed nine days in a row which = sadn ess

Later

BEEEEEEEELLLLLLL FACTOR!

I love you all!

let's make some soup 'cause the weather is turning cold

2005-11-28T18:33:00.000-05:00

The title of the post is taken from Hawksley Workman's Let's Make Some Soup (Almost a Full Moon). It is a song that can be found on his Christmas album Almost a Full Moon. One of my absolute favourites. It is a perfect snapshot to all that I feel every holiday season. It's usually in heavy rotation by this time of the year, but somehow I've yet to listen to it this season. Even writing this I'm not sure I will put it in right away, even though in a way the songs are calling to me. I'm not ready to accept what the album means to me, another year has come to pass. As I sit here procrastinating my final assignments of the semester I can't help but think of what this year has been like. It contains some of the greatest memories I've had yet, but also some sadness. What will always be a particular sentiment of 2005 was the illness and ultimate death of my Grandfather.

A highly religious and spiritual man, he lived the purest life I've ever known. He and my grandmother devoted their entire lives to their religion and it is such a respectable thing, even if it is not my personal choice. Their kindness, warmth, and compassion have reached so many people, far more then I could ever meet or know. To think of all the strangers that love them moves me to tears if I think about it too long.

As Majors (ministers) in the Salvation Army, their lives were never rooted in one place to long. Visiting Jerusalem and living literally across Canada, and Bermuda, born in England, they are well travelled, and knowledgable. Their retirement began in Guelph, Ontario and then to St. Thomas, Ontario (near London). They had their share of illness breast cancer for my grandmother, prostate cancer, diabetes, a major stroke when I was younger, and a stroke/heart attack last year for my grandfather; however no one can ever recall a complaint from either. For the past year my grandfather has been in the hospital, and while he made it home a few times, the majority of that year the hospital was home to him, and in essence my grandmother. Every single day she visited with him. This December 31st would have been their 64th wedding anniversary. As many of you know, my Grandfather, Thomas Edward Bell, passed away comfortably on Monday, November 21st at 2:20 a.m. He was a wonderful man and he will be deeply missed by many. However he lead a wonderful life and we are all hankfull for the memories we have, most often marked with corny jokes, which were his specialty.

I gave a euology at his funeral:

Most people say that when you are going to give a speech or talk in front of people you should open with a joke to warm up the crowd. I know that if it were Grandpa up here that is exactly what would happen. He'd tell one of his jokes, no matter how corny, you'd all laugh, and he's carry on with what he had to say. But when I went to think of one of his jokes I had some trouble. There were so many I couldn't pick one that seemed right.

So then I thought about doing the typical "He's in a better place now" euolgy. And while that is true, it just didn't seem to be enough for a man like Tom, who gave so much and asked for little in return. So as I sat and fought to find the right words to do justice to this amazing man I realized something... I couldn't remember Garndpa before his stroke. Sure, some pictures triggered hazy memories of a time when he stood a little straighter and walked a little quicker, but for the most part, my Grandpa was defined in my memories by the stroke. But, I would have it no other way. You see, the effect of the stroke were just physical reminders of the strength he had. He was the type of person who wouldn't let anything hold him down. If the doctors told him he wouldn't walk again, he'd run as best he could. It was this determination that defined his life. And last year, when illness came knocking again, Grandpa fought it with all he had, right to the last day. And that is why I'm happy with the picture I have of him in my mind, cane and all, because his strength motivates me.

Growing up my favourite part of summer would be the two weeks my cousin Adam and I would spend in St. Thomas with Grandma and Grandpa. For two weeks I got to share in the day to day lives of two inspirational people. A tradition was to make a trip to Port Stanely or London, Grandpa as the tour guide the whole way. I hung onto his every word, and was amazed at how much he knew. The tour never chagned over the years, and I couldn't wait to get to my favourite part onthe way to London. I remember the first year he told us about it... "Did you know that is a military cornfield?" he asked as we drove through the country. When Adam and I said no he was shocked. So I apprehensivly asked "Why is it a military cornfield?" Grandpa just smiled and said "BECAUSE! It's filled with KERNELS!" That was just the way he was, always brining a smile to the faces of everyone around him.

When I found out that Grandpa had passed away, even though I was prepared for it, I couldn't help but feel sad. A small part of me sort of figured maybe that strength of his would keep him going forever, that anytime I called his voice would tell a joke on the other end, any time I walked through his house I'd get my toes squished with his cane, that every card I got from St. Thomas would have a picture of a bell in it instead of seeing our last name written. But as I look out to the faces of each of you here, I realize a piece of Tom is left with all of you. You all carry a corny joke, a little more strength , passion, and empathy, and certianly more love because you knew my Grandpa, Thomas Edward Bell.

My Grandpa and I

Everyone get on the Inky-Bus!!!!

2005-11-17T12:33:00.000-05:00

As many of you know, I'm obsessive about music. I love it. It fuels me. Many people struggle [and rightfully so] with the hypothetical question of: Would you rather be deaf or blind? But for me the answer comes easily... I would rather be blind. I cannot imagine a world without music, it is something that I cannot even fathom in the slightest bit.

Lately I've been pulled back in my memories and music listening, to a time a few years ago. A time when my three best friends and I were drawn to one band and the world that encompassed them. Liz, Irene, Kyra, and I were in love with Incubus, we were Incujunkies if you will. I kid you not, it was sick. We loved every song, their CDs were in constant rotation. We latched onto bands they toured with or were friends with [Phantom Planet, Hoobastank, Audiovent]. Aside from being really great musicians and Brandon Boyd being a great lyricist, we had the added bonus of them being easy on the eyes. And, as if that wasn't great enough, the bands they knew had some attractive members too. It was a teenage girls dream!

Endless games of "Who would you do?" were played between Kyra and I..."Brandon Boyd with rat moustache vs. Mike Enziger with 'fro?". We threw 'Incu' in front of everything. "Did you see Brandon's Incu-sweater?" We watched DVDs [Brandon stepping in dog poo what?], went to concerts, bought any magazine that had two words written about them. But really when it came down to it, it was about the music. I remember the fever that took us when 'Morning View' was released, collectively we listened to that CD at every waking moment. I think there are some out there who remember the 'Aquious Transmission' dance in the music portable! And that brings me to where I stand right now.

After their release of 'Morning View', and extensive touring, the original bassist Dirk left the band. It was to be the first step in a line of events that drew me away from a band I once swore I would listen to when I was 90 and in a home. They replaced Dirk with Ben Kenney, formerly of the Roots. I knew that forever the Incubus I had loved would be gone. Dirk's presence in the band was a key component, his bass lines left you feeling full and happy. How on earth could they do this to ME! A huge fan, maybe their biggest!

Skepticism of this new player aside, I bought their last CD 'A Crow Left of the Murder'. In the weeks leading up to this release, I read what must have been a million articles and posts about what I could expect. There were many rumours about what to expect, and in the end I settled for the most common opinion out there, that I could expect a turn back to 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.', their heavier CD, released well before everyone knew the song 'Drive'. I could deal with that! I loved 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.' and I was ready to see how they approached that style again. I bought the CD the day it came out, ready for an incu-experience.

As I listened to the CD, I knew I was dissapointed, but I kept pressing on. It definantly wasn't 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.', in fact it was like no other Incubus CD, which on all previous releases was one of the main reasons I loved the band so much! I kept trying to lie to myself that I liked it, just as I had loved all the other new sounds before this one. But after a week or two of telling people "It's good, I'm still listening to it, trying to get the feel", I knew the time had come to admit it... my band had let me down. By this time, they already had fallen off the Incupedestal... the measure by which all bands were put to, and for a long time, no one could dare reach where Incubus stood, until I really got into Hawksley Workman's music and he destroyed it. Broken hearted, I put the CD away to collect dust.

That was two strikes, no more Dirk, and a release I didn't like. Then the more I saw interviews the less I felt connected to the band. They were huge now, and even though they were fairly popular at the height of my obssession, they had now become so big it began to feel inpersonal. The new lyrics didn't speak to me, and I was highly critical of the new member Ben Kenney.

And thus it stood for a long while. Sure I'd pop in the older CD's and I'd really enjoy them, but no longer did I care about videos, where the members were, who they toured with, if they were touring at all. Until recently... not only have I been constantly listening to the old stuff, but I've found the connection I missed the first time with 'Crow Left of the Murder'. Lyrics that spoke to me so strongly during highschool, speak to me again, maybe with even more power as I've added a few more years of life to relate them to. It's wonderful, and I'm remembering where the love came from.

These days, my musical taste isn't one that reflects the genre Incubus falls in, but I sit here and enjoy them more and more. Maybe it's only nostalgia that is doing it, but somehow I don't think so. They really are talented musicians, with well crafted songs, and Boyd's lyrics are great. This Novemeber my rekindled passion reminded me that when I'm 90 and in a home, I'll still be singing the songs that defined a time in the life of my friends and I. And I smile.

Who Would You Do: Dirk, while having sex with his bass on stage orDJ Chris Kilmore???

Hazel's Nutty Muff

2005-11-14T01:48:00.000-05:00

So somehow these days just keep speeding by. I'm not sure where October went, but I think a flurry of leaves, pumpkins, costumes and parties might have been involved. I can't believe that it is mid-November, a time for essays, late nights, and of course the BAZAAR! In what is potentially up there for crappiest weekend of the year, I also got to realize that my friends totally rule.

With the news that my grandpa's health is slipping more and more, I just felt my weekend crash. Amid a beasting of four essays, a marketing report, impending finals, and work, that was the last news I needed. After being up all week with stressful thoughts and homework I was looking forward to a bit of rest back in Sauga. Friday night I worked, and it was everything you would expect at work. "My humps my humps, my lovely lady lumps" ,oh count room songs... I do love thee. Friday night was another late one, and the alarm clock came really fast on Saturday morning. Enough of the sob story though... Saturday was totally killer. It was the annual Chirstmas Bazaar at Liz's church. Every year we get dressed in some classy digs and serve sandwiches, tea and desserts to a bunch of old people and religious types. It is honestly the start of my Christmas season every year and I love it. The highlight of this year was definantly lunch with Liz, her momma, and the always lovey Hazel (Liz's grandma). Hazel, aside from being your typical old lady, is also the biggest sweetheart of this life. I think that my favourite part was keeping the secret that my roommates are guys from her... because no one needs to hear Hazel's thoughts on that sort of thing! Plus I totally have to marry Pete (Liz's uncle) as determined two years ago at a turkey dinner (got's to be having them peas!) . Joyce Boyce's turkey and Hazel's nutty muff are both to die for.

After the "CHRISMAS TREE BAZAAR!!!!" (60th annual!!), Liz and I went for some cantaloupe (pronounced can-ta-loop-eh) bubble tea, without bubbles, in ice crush form. If you want some sexy bubble tea, I highly suggest the Tea Shop 168 chains in the GTA, and I super highly suggest the Can-ta-loop-eh flavour, or banana sherbert (this shit is BANANAS!), or mint, or pudding... I could carry on. Then I had to go to work. Just as my shift was about to start I found out that my grandpa is basically in a state of semi-conciousness and is not totally coherent. So, you know that night was totally crapped upon.... but again I shall carry on to better things. I served some customer's that night, and they helped me realize that while things aren't perfect, they are pretty swell... one of those faith in humanity moments.

After work, I went to Tim's to have a tea and wind down some with Ryan, Laura, and the Garcha.... I worked double time to make sure Hollex got totally represented. It was nothing more than a usual coffee night, but I was glad to just be able to unwind a bit. "GET ON THE DICK" was for sure the quote of said night.

I was up early after a restless night to visit my grandpa in the hospital, which is by far not fun. Totaly seizing... S and L members know what I mean! Upon return to the 'Sauga it was dinner at Shoeless with Richard and Lomey. Those are the best conversations ever. Tonight it was Rich, Lomey, and I debating cell phone use/dependancy and phone etiquitte.... nothing beats it. That is also the second time Richard salvaged shitty hospital visit days... hence, Richard = hero. After that Richard and Adam Number 2 (aka the roommate aka cun... cunning individual) were total saviours in the reunionof my cell phone and I after 3 hours apart. It was a beautiful moment.... one of those restore yo... oh wait I already used that one. It was just really cool and so appreciated. Although I would expect nothing less from such stars.

Then I got to my maison and Nate and Adam totally rule, as do the pets of our house (Hamtro and Hudson). I got in some laughs in with them, including: my "Jose Canseco is a dreamboat" comment that got "that's gross." as an answer from Nate, a gangsta Nate who listens to rock.... including Prog [King Crizzy is off the hizzy, King Crizzy and the Court of the Crizzy Pimp], Peter Gabriel's giant man package.... and the pajama-winter coat fashion show, complete with nipple rubbing pockets. Also hilarious... "did you call her street garbage???" in regards to Liz (and NO I DID NOT CALL YOU STREET GARBAGE LIZ).

So then I also got to talk to Paul DellaP (aka Sprocket aka Slippy D) and Kira (Pirate Core Forever) on msn. And because those are two of my favourite people in the world, and I don't talk to them nearly as much as one should in order to maintain good levels of Paul and Kira times, it was really awesome. Paul and I had a good blast to the past talk and Kira made me feel better about all the yucky things in life... like midgets.

In short... or long... friends... you all totally rule my universe.

Thing to do this year: Take a day and hide somewhere up north for some much needed R&R.

Living in the T.Dot. Oh....

2005-09-23T23:03:00.000-05:00

Hey,

So I am posting after so long... a little tipsy.... Rachard I promise your's is coming soon!

Living Downtown is so much fun. Nate and Adam are the greatest roommates ever! Tonight was Heather's 19th! Soooooo good....

I promise to update more later....

Alex Bell-Factor

Theory: Toronto is entertaing, no matter what you are doing.

2005-07-22T17:46:00.000-05:00

Things seen in Toronto when walking around with Liz for two hours:

a man in a shriners hat
a crazy lady who gets way too close in line
a man wearing nothing but boxers, fully grabbing the baby maker like he would never see it again
some creepy Scientologists
a police officer totally pick up (and not in his cruiser) an entire bridal party
a fat little Asain boy staring at animals roasting in the windows on Spadina saying .. "ohhhh it looks ssssoooo dee-licious"
piles and piles of rotting putrid garbage
at least two transexuals

AND... as if that list wasn't good enough already.

WE SAW BUCKY.

As in Mayfield Bucky. Riding a skateboard, with long black emo hair. Thus proving that if you are looking for a cheap night of entertaining laughs... just walk around Toronto for a few hours.

Grimsby Day - Part III

2005-06-23T15:01:00.000-05:00

At long last, it is time to complete the story of Grimsby Day... about 3 months later. My bad.

So, when we last read about this motley crew of characters, they had successfully made it to the Falls, and were about to search for the mysterious Lick's for some grub....

So we take off from the touristy part of Niagara Falls, and were able to count no less then three trillion hotels offering heart shaped tubs. Seriously... TRASH VEGAS!!!! Now, all we know about this Lick's is that it once existed on some road that remains nameless in my mind. But as we keep driving, we cannot find it. So we stop at some hotel (most likely offering a heart shaped tub) to enquire. We send Nate to investigate, but it was closed. So we go to hotel/motel number two, and Nate again goes in. This time we have success.... sort of... we find out that while, yes there was a Licks, it was long since closed. We were devastated, what were we to do with ourselves??? Normal people would have turned around and gone home, admitting defeat. But not us... and not on this day! So I ask you all.... have you ever eaten in outer space??? I HAVE.

We ate lunch in a FLYING SAUCER!!! It was this totally kick ass restaurant that was shaped like a flying saucer. The food was your typical diner-ish fare... leaning towards the greasy fried side. But Nate... he ate a turkey sandwich. That my friends, is a classy ride. Turkey, inside a flying saucer, on a Wednesday in the middle of March, when you should be at school, in one of Canada's most surreal cities. Honestly, by this point in the day I figured that there was no where to go but down. It had been one "hella tight" ride so far, and I couldn't imagine it being much more adventurous. But oh how I was wrong... and really what was I thinking, a day with the unsavoury characters is certainly never dull!

So after lunch we beasted it back to Grimsby. The plan for the remainder of the day was to buy some food at Sobey's, get beer for St. Patties (which was the following day), eat dinner, then head back to Toronto. So in Sobey's we got a wide array of animal to eat... and then a little lettuce for salad. Honestly, it was like 4 HUGE steaks, and a chunk of salmon. We were like a bunch of cave people... who grunt and walk all mangly (eh Nate?? ;-) ). So we headed back to Adam's house and since we were still full from lunch we decided to have a few beers and play some SEQUENCE, a partnered card game (SnL make note!). Apparently I don't have the mental capacity to play that game very well... Adam, my partner was very displeased. And wouldn't you know it, when I tried to apologize I got sassed with "Don't apologize to me", so I went and jumped over the falls. And thus ends Grimsby Day.

By the time we got to cooking dinner, we were a little tipsy, and decided that perhaps we should just spend the night. And so we continued to drink as we cooked the most delicious meal ever.

And after we ate that tasty tasty meal... we pub crawled (for those of you who don't know what the hell that means... a pub crawl is when you go from pub to pub, drinking at each one you pass until you 'crawl' because you're too drunk to walk). At 11pm, on a Wednesday, we pub crawled Grimsby, Ontario, Canada. A tiny little butt-fuck town (no disrespect, it's just true). We walked for a year of our lives there and back in the freezing cold. But it was so worth it.

We then returned to Adam's home for some Duke's of Hazard. Woke up the next morning, grabbed Tim's, rushed back to Toronto.... thankfully my van was still alive after spending the night at the Kipling TTC station. I thus went home, showered, packed a bag, and beasted it back to Toronto for St. Patties.

And that... is how we (the SC Crew) do. This has to become a yearly tradition. From now on St. Patties starts on March 16th and carries to the 17th!

THE END

Most scandalous song ever: Pussy Control - Prince.

Grimsby Day - Part II

2005-05-03T15:38:00.000-05:00

So now that exams and school are all finished up, I have some time again to write in here, so it is time to finish the tale of mishap and adventure that is... GRIMSBY DAY!

When we left off the Shady Characters crew had arrived at the Burlington GO Station to see if Adam's car was still there... and it was! So with much happiness we got into the car and started our trip to Grimsby. Along the way Adam played tour guide and told us of different places, then we started to climb the Niagara Escarpment. We ended up at THE DEVIL'S PUNCHBOWL! This place is just some point that looks out on Hamilton and surrounding areas, and has a GIANT cross that lights up at night. It is totally surreal, and really quite crazy. We totally want T-Shirts that say "I lost my virginity at the Devils Punchbowl", these shirts would totally need a picture of the cross too. You've gotta see this thing to believe it... road trip to the devil's punchbowl anyone??

After that it was a drive along the escarpment, a tour of actual Grimsby and then a stop off at Adam's place. Then it was off to THE FALLS! You see Erin, being from The Van... aka British Craplumbia, he had never seen the magic that is Niagara Falls, Canada's Trash Vegas if you will. As we drove along the QEW towards our destination, I was flooded with childhood memories of Prudhommes Landing (totally had to check how to spell that). It was an amusement park that was built near St. Catherines, with bumper cars, water slides, a scrambler, go karts, a wave pool, and I remember going there as a kid... there is a picture somewhere of me in the go karts. So I decided to inquire to the Escarpment expert Adam... commence dialog:

Alex: "Hey Adam... do you know about Prudhommes Landing?"
Adam: "You mean the abandoned amusement park."
Alex: *heart being broken* "You mean it is no more???"
Adam: "About 6 years or so ago, one day everyone that worked there just up and left. They left everything behind, everything. My friends and I used to break in, there would be old employee records and everything still in the offices."
Alex, Nate, and Erin: "We so have to go."

So we did. We went to the abandoned amusement park of my childhood. And it was SO AWESOME! We had to hop a fence into a snowy muddy pit, but it was all good, we ran around on the teacups, then went up the water slides, and ran down them. I nearly fell on the ice several times, but whatever, it was awesome. Then we fiddled about on the old bumper car platform and then we were off. It was so quiet and eerie, it was certainly one of the coolest things someone could be doing on a Wednesday afternoon when you should be at school. This is a picture from the top of the waterslides.

So after that little impromptu sidetrack, we were back off to the Falls. Along to way we drove through Port Dalhousie, too see the plethora of bars and pubs... and all I have to say is I will be going once it is patio weather. When we got into the falls we took a drive up Clifton Hill, to see all the absolute trash, and if we were wealthier individuals I'm sure we would have participated in some of the absolute crap. We parked the car, and went to the falls. We mocked jumping over, laughed at the shitty American falls, and then, left. I mean really how much fun could the falls be. One thing that is particularly funny or disturbing depending on your take on things is that there really is not a lot that stops people from jumping over... case in point:

So by now, we had been experiencing a pretty eventful day. For people like Adam and I who are in ACS and don't get up very early, the fact that it was about 2 pm, and we had done more then wake up and laze about, was impressive enough. We were all pretty hungry and decided to go find Lick's to eat at for lunch...

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK WHEN WE FIND OUT:
Did the SC Crew make it to Lick's?
What did they do for the rest of the day?
Did they all make it out alive?

How to Rock Club 279: A Guided Journey

2005-04-18T16:27:00.000-05:00

Ohhhh 279... my favourite club downtown Toronto. Yes, that is right, the one above Hard Rock Cafe, at Dundas Square. The one that is live to air from Q107, the one inhabited by old old people, and several mullets. It is by far, my favourite place to go on a Saturday night. The love affair started back when I was 18, when Liz, Irene, Kyra, and myself, all armed with Michigan Fake Ids (excpet Liz who is blessed with an early birthday), went for our first trip to 279. It's ridiculously fun, and really has yielded some great stories (Garbage man, James, Leather Pants, Kick it up lady, Kira on Yonge street, the list is seemingly endless), Irene met Dan there even! But over the years we have developed the art of 279 into a fine art, and using this past Saturday (April 16th) as my example I will take you on a journey of a night, one that you could experience if you too wish to have... THE 279 EXPERIENCE!

10:30 arrive downtown/at the club: This act we actually forfeited on Saturday, but usually you want to get down there by this time to avoid paying the oh so expensive 5 dollar cover!! Sorry we are cheap and want all the booze money possible. If you are driving in, Park at Dundas Square... underground parking... yes please!

10:45-11:30: after getting over the initial worms in the belly at the thought of entering such a shady place full of old men, and getting past door/coat check three things happen:

You walk once around the club, just to get a good sense of how busy it is, how cougar-y it is, how old creepy mans it is, and how many people are going to be annoying in this small club where you get to know the faces of everyone else within the first hour.
A group of men, usually old enough to be your father, or at least the weird uncle at family dinners, oogles you, then makes some sort of comment, Saturdays was just a "Niiiiiiice!" as you walked by. You can expect to know who these people are, cause you'll pass them a few more times, and nothing will change. A special case of this event is when a solo man will latch on to your group and follow you around all night! This time we had the pleasure of a short indian man in a toight white tee, and toight acid wash jeans!
You commence drinking, to ease yourself into the crowd you are with (Liquid Cocaine, Sex on the Beach, and some Canadian, are usually a nice start! But be warned, the shooters and cocktails at 279 ain't cheap!!)

11:30-12:00: You hit up the dance floor. You're still not buzzed enough to be right into full out dancing, and we personally prefer to take this time to make fun of other people. We point out the cougars, we mock people dances, we outright laugh at people, we do our favourite one arm over the head dance taught to us long ago in that very club! I suggest if you go do the same, or you know just sit at one of the benches and drink/talk with friends.

12:00- End of Club: This is where timing gets tricky, so instead I will tell you all the things you need to have accomplished by the end of the night to have had the FULL 279 EXPERIENCE!!!!

At some point in time, you must, and under no means may you skip this step!, flirt with an old man! Give him the eyes! Guys reading this, you hit up that cougar! Rwwwarrr! I personally choose an older indian man who looked like Shaunak (think giant moustache for those who don't know the Show-nak!). I started by smiling and giving the eyes, and then later licked my thumb and index finger and smoothed down his 'stache in one swoop! But be warned, such outright signs of 'attraction' will make it hard to get rid of him. He brought me a beer, which I took then got rid of when he wasn't looking. And finally had to tell him "I'm sorry. We just aren't going to work out, I fell out of love with you in the last few minutes! It just can't be!!! Look... there are many other coug...ladies you can hit it up with... go... no really go... GO AWAY!!!" Once he is gone, commence laughter with friends!
A group of people in your age bracket will find you ("I'd totally fuck them!!" --> uhhh we can here you...). They will talk with you, and you will talk back. Together you will laugh at the other club patrons! So old!!!! Then if you are lucky they will buy you drinks! Take this time to have those cocktails you avoided due to high costs on your own wallet.
Go to the bathroom, on the way you will be harassed by old men, or cougars if you are a guy. It's ok... it's 279, just roll with it.
Remember those people who attacked you with cat calling at the beginning of the night. At some point in time you're going to have to tell them enough is enough. For Liz, Irene, and I, this point came around 1:15 on Saturday. We realized the white shirted man had not only oogled us, but had been FOLLOWING US AROUND ALL NIGHT!!! So I yell at him "YOU'RE WEIRD! STOP FOLLOWING US!" then he promptly scurried away around the corner!
On the dance floor, you should always mingle with everyone around you. Dance with the cougars for a bit, mingle with the nerds! Just have fun... there is no shame at 279!
Look for the "Special Dances". These are usually air guitar solos by larger fellows, trying to show off their "oh-so-manly-plumage" with orchestrated planned dances to their favourite air guitar songs! On Saturday a 300 pound man, not only air guitared it up, but during the solo, fell to the floor and commenced humping of the air! HUMPED IT GOOD! Yes it is ok to laugh really loudly at these specimens... they half expect it.
Sometimes... and this is only rare occasions, the creepy men from the start, that you had to yell at, don't quite get it! This occurred Saturday. So I just looked at white shirt and said "NO!!!!! GO Away!" then shooed him with my hand, and off he ran!

2:30 am: Light go up! Get OUT! Don't linger on if you are still there! That is not fun for the club people!

2:35 am: You are all too drunk to go anywhere, so you gotta wait it out downtown for a while. This is when everyone who was also at the Club will take the time to talk to you! In this case we met up with the CRAZIEST lady ever... THE GURU!!!! Theresa was her name... the bar scene her game. She knew EVERYTHING there was to know about bars and clubs. She had 'MET' many a band, been to all sorts of places... she even carried toilet paper for peeing behind dumpsters! She was nuts... we left her at Gerrard and Mutual, as we were going for some good old La Zeez aka Disease, Chicken shwarma.

Thus ended our night of 279. But trust when I say you to can experience this ridiculousness. No seriously, it's really actually fun... anyone with me... anyone?

Thing I need to do: Get Grimsby Day Part II up and posted!

Grimbsy Day - Part I

2005-04-16T11:07:00.000-05:00

The time has come for me to talk about... Wednesday, March 16th, 2005... Grimsby Day.

Bright and early I awoke, to meet Adam, Nate, and Erin downtown at 10 am. We were off to Adam's hometown of Grimsby, Ontario/Niagra Falls. So when I get there Erin takes off to buy film, and the rest of us stay and talk to Jenny at the desk at Pitman. We finally got our lazy asses into motion and went to meet Erin at the film store. Commence dialog:

Adam: "Where did he go again?"
Nate: "The one on Yonge, by Pizza Pizza."
Adam: "Are you sure?"
Nate: "Yeah man, that's what he said."
*off we go to Yonge...BUT ALAS! No Erin!!!!*
Adam: "I think he went to the one on Church."
Nate: "He said the one on Yonge...."
*Adam takes off at record breaking speeds to the Church street store. Nate and I follow at a slow stroll. We discover that no... Erin is NOT at the Church store, so Adam rockets back to Yonge, and Nate and I continue the stroll... but still NO ERIN. It's now 10:30 and the 10:45 train to Burlington, where Adam's car is waiting, seems like a once distant dream.

So we go back to rez, and see if Jenny knows where Erin has gone. Apparently according to Jenny, he had returned at one point and then left...so we have no idea where he is. This would be the part of a TV show where they say tune in next week to find out what happened to Erin! Did he leave campus for union? is he sitting on some street corner? is he having sexual relations with a drunk homeless man? Those were all very real possibilities, so we decide, we shall go to Union to catch the next train, hope he shows up, and if Jenny sees him she will let him know what is going down.

But all was righted when we finally saw him coming back to rez to look for us. Turns out that he did in fact have sexual relations with not only a homeless man, but also a dog, pigeon, and himself. But hey... that's just Erin, so we accepted it and carried on our day. We had a rather uneventful train ride. I'm sorry I just can't find anything about the Go Train exciting after taking it and other forms of public transit to school for a year. So we arrived safe and sound in Burlington… but the question remained… was Adam’s car there after a two night stay in the Go lot?

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK WHEN WE FIND OUT:
Do the Shady Characters Crew have a car to drive?
Do they make it to the Falls?
Will all four make it out of this day alive?

Things I've Done in the past two days to avoid studying...

2005-04-12T20:51:00.000-05:00

Slept in until 1 pm on Monday... it was nice, but tres counterproductive.
Went on MSN some.
Read a bunch... no no, not the exam material, it was the Poisonwood Bible.
Went to the pet store to get shavings for Hudson's cage, and then to blockbuster... ohhh hideous nerds who work at the blockbuster... one day I hope you love me enough to invite me to your LAN parties!
Watched 'Alexandra's Project', which is basically low class, depressing adult, soft core porn, without meaning to be. Oh yes... with a name like Alexandra in the title what more could be expected!
Went on MSN some more... damn you distracting heathen that is MSN!!!
Watched some of Blow... Disco Shit. Man I love that movie TOO much!
Slept until 12:40... damn... class starts at 1 pm!!!! Eek!
Went to the Rye on break between classes as opposed to attempting some sort of studying... if only Gillan's class wasn't so damn boring! Thank fuck it's done.
Watched: the end of The Usual Suspects, Adam get 5 stars in Vice City, the end of Wheel and the start of Jeopardy.
Spent 20 minutes getting one piece of paper from work. (Thanks to Richard, James, Mel and Andrew for distracting me from studying)
Wrote this.

Sorry I've been lazy...

2005-04-03T16:38:00.000-05:00

So I've been really bad with keeping up with posting lately, and it really isn't because I don't want to, but the fact that I have no time. School is really hectic these days, and add work onto that, I really don't have a lot of time to write in here.

So, I mean I have been doing things, and I have to write about a lot of shenanigans that have gone on (Grimsby day, A-train's birthday, March 24th, Waterloo roadtrip... there is more I am sure!). So really, it's just a matter of when I have time, I will put these adventures into written form, and probably add some pictures to go along with the stories!

I'm running for treasurer of the Arts and Contemporary Studies, Course Union (ACSCU). Yes I am aware that it is the nerdiest position possible, but really I like the monies a lot, and being designated the cash flow of my course union, just is a nice thought. Pub nights and frosh week for all!

OH! I wiped out good on my rollerblades. That was funny, I flew horizontally four feet through the air (my legs kicked up from beneath me and my body continued moving forward), then dropped straight down on the road. BAM! I totally winded myself like a beast, then I got up and bladed around my street to maintain some dignity (as if there was any left). Once inside I realized I scraped my elbow, and yeah, that is my first wound from falling this year, I am sure there will be many more falls before 2005 is over, as anyone whoe knows me, knows how clumsy I am... oh turtle reflexs, you do me no good in preventing injury!

So yeah school is over for me come April 25th, after which I will have lots of time to do nothing but work, party, and write in here.

CD I WANT: The new Hot Hot Heat one, I think it's out next week or so... tres exciting!

The Principle of Hearting.

2005-03-24T20:44:00.000-05:00

I heart you all.... ummmmmm... Red Lion.

Happy Birthday Ella! Happy 1-9!!!!!

Too the Red Lion!!!!! Jameokee for all. Scotty watch out son! Handle bar staches are my love.

The principle of hearting is directly related to the awsomeness of one being hearted!

The Saint Patty's Day to remember.... or forget?

2005-03-21T14:43:00.000-05:00

Well, reading the comments from my last post, made me realize that it is high time to retell the night of green beer.

I must first off say, I did not forget you Marco, nor anyone else from that night! I just haven't posted about St, Patty's since then, and that post that I did make, was created WELL before I hit the bar and met you all! First off, you are all on my camera! Secondly, we chilled for a good chunk of time. No need to fear, totally unforgettable.

So here is the run down of my Thursday, March 17th. After getting dropped off at Kipling TTC station Thursday afternoon, by the Unsavoury bunch of kids (after wackiest Wednesday EVER), I was more than happy to discover my sweet '95 caravan, was still there, even though it had spent the night in a really shady area. So I drove on home to the 'Sauga. I showered, got my stuff together, and went back down to Ryerson on the GO Bus. It was during that ride I caught a few extra zzz's.

I spent the afternoon in the library with Kevin... cause that is how we do on Thursdays. Most enjoyable part of the afternoon... or laughable, was when Legend totally gave the once over to Kevin. After that the evening began.

So I head into the LCBO at the Bay Atrium and but me 6 tall cans of miscellaneous beers, then head over to Rez. After an uneventful dinner at ILLC with Adam, Lindsay, Mary-Ann, and Mike, it was back to 829. So you kno we did the chill down thing on rez, drinking green beer, and Erin painted Adam's head green. It was somewhere in here I decided to post slightly intoxicated on my blog, not ignoring the emo kids from Winchester, for I had no idea they existed yet! I drank a few pints of Polar Bear... yeah thats right, pints of Polar Bear and then it was off to the Winchester, which is where the calamity started.

Once inside, I felt it necessary to introduce myself to THE ENTIRE BAR. Everyone. It was kinda sad... but then there was this table of pretty cool kids. (here comes the shout out!!!) Ummm, there were a lot more of them than me, so forgive me if I forget any names.... Hi to Steve, Marco (and his band $12 T-Shirts), Eric, Rick, ummm Pam maybe... ok that is where I kind of lose track of names. It's not that I don't remember you, it's the names that kind of elude me. They were into the emo, as am I, and we played some pool, and talked of many things. They were definitely awesome people to meet on St. Patty's. Plus they totally took a million pictures of themselves on my camera, which is always funny the next day.

So after we parted ways (and they had my blog address, and e-mail...), it was off to rez again with the Ryerson kids. Now I have a question (and Lindsay, I know you'll find this one funny). Who the Heck is Kristen? No one knew her... other then "she lives on the 8th floor". Either way... totally creepy to wake up the next morning, then remember her putting a tiny braid in your hair. I totally fell like 3 times on Church street, and there was some guy who thought he was a ninja, but thankfully we lost him. I don't know who picked him up along the way, but it was totally not me, he was a nutbag.

So back on rez, it was a lot of randomness, I know I went to Disease (La Zeez) all by myself, and that the room was over run with strangers... one of who wrote on Adam's head (not cool). Ummm, I think that by the end of the night I was signed in by Nate. Anyways, that night was a lot of fun, but not nearly as nuts as Mike's birthday, or Grimsby day... which I suppose I should post about sooner or later. Anyways... nights that end up in a blog like this, are really quite over the top.

In short, Winchester kids, I didn't forget you, c'est impossible! And now you have made it on here!

Movies I could watch right now: I'm going to have to pick one.... School of Rock, Blow, Beetlejuice, I heart Huckabees, or Swing Kids. Hrmmmm... too many to choose from.... I'll probably end up watching something I didn't list, like the Labyrinth.... ohhhhh Bowie, your pants are so toight, your package is totally visable!

"Oh!!!! You Bas-tard!

2005-03-21T01:30:00.000-05:00

I figured I would take a break from the story telling that I often do in my blog to just say.... SCHOOL IS STRESSFUL. Like I am honestly paying for stress! There are a million things due in such a short amount of time, I hardly know how I will make it through. Come on April 25th... get here already!

Anyways, tonight was a good time. Went over to the Dellapenta's with Richard. I've really missed the nights of just bumming around, doing nothing important. Plus I totally owned you guys in poker, until that evil Adam reclaimed the winnings. And The Birdcage being on the telly... doesn't get much sweeter than that! "OhhhhhKay" Can't wait for freaking summer already.

Friday night I went to Montreal jazz club with Irene... to see Larnell Lewis play. There are no words to begin to describe how fantastic it was to see him. For any Mayfielder's reading this, he is getting to be uber successful, and is so close to being totally famous it hurts. He's playing drums for Jully Black (Canadian hip hop artist), has his own band, plays with Denny Christensen (head of Humber Jazz), won the Oscar Peterson award last year, played the CMA's with Jully Black, might be getting a Yamaha endorsment... oh I am sure I am missing some things too. He said his life is all rehersals all the time. Ohhhh Carnell Louis! How I still remember the day you rolled into SJAM... to be in grade 7 again.

Speaking of Field alumni... CARMEN SPADA GOES TO BERKLEY FOR MUSIC! What the hell is that???? Carmen Spada couldn't play his way out of a fucking paper bag, and he's at Berkley... someones parents have some pretty deep pockets!

Anyways, that was a lot of nonsense and nothing all that good... I am usually telling funny stories in here.... or making fun of myself... meh next time I guess.

Totally Emo Song, that I adore : You're So Last Summer by Taking Back Sunday.... "The truth is you could slit my throat and with my one last gasping breath I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt." That... good folks... is some damn fine emo lyrics. Plus the song says Lush... and well we all know that is great.

St. Patty's Day

2005-03-17T20:45:00.000-05:00

HAPPY ST. FUCKIN PATTY'S DAY

There are some days when rules (like no drinking :S) are meant to be broken. This is one of them/. Today marks four fuckin' years at AMC. Sans that sight leave of absence... HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ALL THE SAUGA CONVENTION CENTRE KIDS STILL AT AMC.... WE'VE HAD SOME FUCKING GOOD TIMES, and I heart you all more than you know.

I would like to make a special shout out to SHADY CHARACTERS CREW. Adam, Nate, and Erin... you are all stars in my boooks. Totally... like no questions. Who the fuck else would rummage through abandoned amusement parks??? huh!!!!????!!!!! Grimsby forever!!!!!

HEY KJIDS.... THIS IS A SHOUT OUT TO LINDSAY... greatest kid in rez that doesn't live in 829. Linds..... H&M day soon!

Also shout out to Roberts... why i am doing this??? she started the blog phonom for me

Ummmmm yeah..... everyone PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE have some green beer today... like myself (rules broken two days in a row :S:S:S)

I'm in suite 829 greatest room in Pitman... everyone love the Irish today.... I love anyone reading this...irish or not.

Thing to do tonight: take a lot of pictures on good old didgital cameraska (anyone remember kamouraska... fucking anglaise classs)....

PS - WEDNESDAY MARCH 16th.... blog to come!!@!! :D

Nice pants.....

2005-03-14T00:36:00.000-05:00

It is always good to mock yourself, so that is why I am willing to tell you; I wasn't always the uber-cool kid I am now. In fact, I was quite the opposite. I was a loser. Not just any kind of loser though. I mean I always had friends, and I always had fun at school. But I was that weird kid, who dressed funny... no really... it was bad enough that I am writing about it now.

My fashion faux pas, lasted from grade 7- early 11, with the peak years being grade 8 and 9. I was into rock music back then, but mostly classic rock, The Beatles, and Hendrix topping my list. And for some reason, which now is waaaay beyond me, I thought "Alexandra Graham Bell, you should dress like a hippie, to fit in with your favourite music!" So I did, well at least I tried, mostly though I didn't dress like one. I just dressed like some little kid with negative fashion sense. It started with the pair of red and white striped pants I dug out of my mom's closet. THEY WERE HIDEOUS. They were bell bottoms, and they were diagonal lines that sort of zig zagged. I wore them with pride.

For shirts, I mainly stuck to baggy t-shirts that were for the most part black. I had one for Bush-X... oh it was old enough to still maintain the "X". And I had my Jimi Hendrix one (I still bust it out if I am running low on clothes... for shame). I wore these shirts with anything, and everything. I usually paired them with a fuzzy black zip up.... even in the summer. I told you I was weird.

For shoes... it was THE MOLES. Anyone who knew me in those days, should remember the moles. I wore those fuckers for a long time. They were black running shoes, and they had a little mole on them, and I put my own sparkly shoe laces in them, just to be EXTRA cool. I even wore them in grade 10, the very first year I played in Blue's Alley (Mayfield's sweet senior jazz band). And as we did a song where the entire band stood in a row in front of the stage, my mother still remembers to this day, the embarrassment she felt when the lights caught the sparkles, revealing the ugliest, beat up shoes... on the feet of her daughter.

After my start into fashion hell with the red and white pants, I added many other atrocities to my wardrobe. I two skirts, one black, the other dark grey. They went to just above my ankle, and had cargo pockets on the sides of them about half way down. They were from the Bay, which should tell you what age group might have been better suited for these skirts. I wore my baggy t-shirts with them, and of COURSE the moles, and as for my socks, the brighter the better. I also was one of the baggy jeans wearers. Many a pair of baggy ugly jeans served me through to grade 10 or 11, when I joined the world of bootleg and normal flared pants.

Then, came the hair. I dyed it, well streaked it. But wait, you must be saying, that is not so radical at all. In fact, many many ladies streak their hair Alex! But, I ask you... do they streak their hair PURPLE ???? Because I did (I would like to take this time to throw a little shame to my bestest bud Liz, who also put some of my purple hair dye into her own locks... Sorry Liz, you know I luv ya, but that is just gold...)... in Grade nine. My first year of five, at Mayfield Secondary School, I died my hair purple. How I ever lived past that without taunting, and still had friends for my remaining years, is beyond me. Thank god it was an arts high school!

Then came THE PANTS. One day, while shopping with my mom, I found a pair of pants in 'le chateau', that I JUST HAD TO HAVE!!!!!!!! They were paisley printed, and were bright blue, green, and orange. Yes, I just told you, I owned a pair of paisley print, blue, green, and orange pants. Laugh, it's ok, I do. I wore this suckers with pride, at the time of my purple hair. And I thought my shit didn't stink. I was the greatest thing since sliced bread. I often wondered why on earth, was I the only person who owned these pants (other than one girl, a few years older than me, who also owned these pants, making her WAY cool in my books).

One day, I was walking down the hall. (for you Mayfield kids reading this, it was the hall that went west past the entrance to the servery in the cafe towards the exit to the teachers parking lot). Now, a lot of older people hung out in this area, and most of them were the kind of people who dressed normal, and not in paisley pants. So, there I was in my niner glory, Hendrix shirt, purple hair, paisley pants, and of COURSE the moles. I am sure I was playing some sweet walking music in my mind, like Stayin Alive... the kind of beat that BEGS you to walk along to it. When all of a sudden I hear the voice of an older guy, *sarcastic voice* "Hey... nice pants." So I turn, and in all seriousness say, "Thanks! They're from le chateau!" and keep on going, not missing a beat in my walking tune. I really thought he liked my pants. It wasn't until years later, when I finally laid the pants to rest, in a garbage bag to the Salvation Army, did I remember the day, I was clearly mocked, but chose to ignore it.

Oh man, sometimes, you just gotta make fun of yourself. This is one of those times. I have a picture somewhere of my in the skirt and moles get up. If I ever get it scanned, it's going to be posted. But really, I couldn't have been the only kid who was THAT weird... could I???

I really need to: Clean my van... she is one dirty lady these days. I am sorry bitch van, and I am sure that every person who has left garbage in you over the past while (and that is A LOT of people), are all sorry too!

Smack that ass bitch!

2005-03-07T21:42:00.000-05:00

This is a tale that happened one Monday night, back in maybe September/October of 2004. This is hands down my favourite strip club story I have been present for, and well actually, just the greatest stripper story in the history of life.

So on occasion I have gone to Kennedy's, a strip club in Mississauga. I hang out with a lot of guys, who like to drag the girls in our group out to the strip club... as they see it "Drinking vs. Drinking with Naked Chicks", no choice to them. For a while during the September/October months, every Monday was amateur night, which is the only reason why I would be at a Peeler on a Monday night.

For those of you who know what Kennedy's set up is... this next part will be a bit blah, for the rest of you... the layout of Kennedy's.

1 = STRIPPER POLE - some of those ladies can go all the way up then hold on with their crotch! don't ask me how the do it, because it really defies logic.
2 = STAIRS - this is where they descend from the dressing room, onto the stage in the HOTTEST stripper gear. Clear plastic heels... yes please!
3 = PERV'S ROW - right up against the stage where all the action is at... who doesn't want crotch juice spray!!!! Think marine land.
4 = 2nd PERV'S ROW - set back further then the first one, but still holding on to some pervy nature, just the way I like it!
5 = OUR GROUP - taking over the pole side of 2nd perv's row
*beyond the two perv's rows is an elevated level with the bars and more tables...

So, we get there and we are chilling, have a brew watching the non-amateurs shake their thangs. It is a rather large group of us there, maybe 10-15 or so. Then... came time for amateur night.

A brief rundown on the workings of such a fine night:

Any girls who want to sign up to go on stage can.
Once on stage, they dance around to a song or two.
While they strip, an MC reads some facts about them off a card they prepare themselves. (ie. favourite sexual position, job, crazy things they've done, etc.)
A panel of judges selected from the patrons of Ye Olde Watering Hole, vote on who they feel was the best amateur.
The winner receives some cash flow, and the knowledge she was everyone's favourite piece of meat... I mean dancer, that night.

Now, by this time I was quite bored, as I find the strip club can do to you, when you are not physically attracted to the naked people on stage. More often than not, the girls and I comment on costume choice and tattoos on the peelers, rather than their "assets". But quite quickly the MC grabbed our attention. He was a rather built, fairly tall black guy, and he was funny as hell when reading off the strippers cards. We were all enjoying ourselves and having a laugh at these dancers who were, for the most part, making fools of themselves.

Then.. this girl gets up on stage and she had got the HUGEST ASS I have ever witnessed in my entire life. Like I am talking MASSIVE. So the MC is all "Now that is a black sistah for ya!". So he goes on and on about her ass, and really it was very funny. Then he is like, "We need someone to smack that.... give it a good one." So he calls this guy up on stage (who was white), and he tell the girl to bend over and hold on to the pole. So this IDIOT woman does, and so the guy from the audience winds up, and gives her a good schmack!

So we all have a laugh and shake our heads... but the MC was not satisfied, oh no he was not!

"YOU CALL THAT A SLAP!!!! Maaaaan I knew I shouldn't bring no white boy up on stage to do a black man's job. Looks like I'm going to have to do this myself."

So you can see the fear in the eyes of the girl on stage. The MC keeps revving the crowd up and like warning how hard he is going to smack that ass.

So he puts the mic down, starts at the stairs, then runs towards the ass, SMAAAAAAAACKS! that ass like NO TOMORROW. The girl goes FLYING, rolls over and lands.... right... in... perv's row. He hit he so hard she flew off the stage. Our entire group explodes with laughter. As anyone who witnessed that would. A naked black woman, with the biggest ASS, gets smacked and lands in perv's row. Honestly... gold.

It's moments like that, which make life worth living.

Song you should download today: Ride My Llama - Neil Young... Adam and Paul Dellapenta in a song... I think so.

Me and the Street... at one or at war?

2005-03-03T21:14:00.000-05:00

Having lived in the GTA my whole life, I have spent considerable amounts of time downtown Toronto. More so now, considering I attend Ryerson. Now I have had many a great time downtown; from my early times running around Yonge and Eglinton, to the glory days of 279 at Yonge and Dundas Square. In these many years, there have been all sorts of crazy times, and crazy things that have happened to me. Stories that could fill a book. But one particular incident stands out in my mind, so well. This is a story that you might hear in the " It happened to a friend of a friend of mine..." format, but in this case, I am shamed, proud, slightly amused (ok greatly amused), to say that this, happened to me.

So Ryan and his band Quip had just played a show at the Rocket Club. http://www.quiprocks.com This night had been a good one, and after the show, the guys of Quip, and Liz, Irene, and I decide we are kinda hungry. Now someone in the group decides that we need to go hunting for a Shopsy's Deli where one never existed. So we take off on the start of a very long journey. Now as we are walking, we pass various banks, and as people go by they take out money if needed. Finally we get to the giant TD Canada Trust bank on Yonge, near Richmond. So some of us stop to get cash out, myself in that group. So as we are starting to walk away from the bank (going Southbound to King), a few people are ahead, and a group of us are further back. We were just talking and having a good laugh, when a homeless guy begins to approach coming north down Yonge. This guy is OLD, all white haired, with a crazy beard... defianantly no rookie to the streets. So he gets through the first group with no problem, he gets to ours, and mumbles something about spare change.

I put my nicest face on, smile, say no and apologize. (Now he knows we obviously have money, considering this guy would have TOTALLY seen us at the bank machines). So just as I do my smile/apologize I turn around to keep walking, when all of a sudden....*WHOMP/THUD!!!!!!!!*
The homeless man, the very old homeless man, had punched me. Right in the back of my head; hard, quite HARD. There was a very resounding sound of fist to noggin action. As people heard the thud, they turn around in horror to see what was happening. I turn quickly to see the guy RUNNING, with haste, down Yonge Street.

So I TOOK off, running, caught up, and gave him a quick taste of his own medicine.

Oh HOW I wish that was actually how the story goes, but no. I did not go after him. I did not even yell at him. I laughed. My head really hurt, but I just laughed. I laughed until I fell, into a heap of chuckles, on the ground of one of Toronto's busiest streets. I didn't know what else to do.

Of course everyone was quite flabbergasted at what had happened. I mean it isn't like everyday, some homeless guy, punches you or someone you are with, in the back of the head with force, for no apparent reason.

Regardless, I swear I have seen him around that area after that day, but he came and went so fast, I would never be sure if it was actually him. I still think of that day, EVERYTIME I pass that bank.

What to do: Karaoke at the Old Triangle tonight... yes please.

What makes one unsavoury?

2005-03-03T03:26:00.000-05:00

UNSAVOURY

adj: 1. morally offensive "an unsavoury character", "an unsavoury scandal" 2. not pleasing in odour or taste.*

So, why the talk of unsavoury-ness? Because, I, Alexandra Bell, am an unsavoury character. Oh I know, it must be hard to believe that I could be an unsavoury character, but I am. This would be a very heavy burden to shoulder, if I was alone on this. But I am not, there are thousands of unsavoury characters around the world, some are probably reading this, and I am proud to say that some, if not most of my friends could be classified as unsavoury at some point in time. But two people stand out as especially unsavoury aside from myself, and they are Adam and Mike. The three of us probably fill the quota Ryerson has for tolerable levels of unsavoury.

Here are some of the grounds by which I make the bold statement of us three being tres unsavoury:

After quietly discussing with Adam many drug growing schemes that could be possible for someone to do during a lecture by Professor Klaus Kraay. Kraay stated in an example "People who grow drugs are unsavoury". Not only was this hilarious coming from a man with the physique of Johnny Depp at the end of Blow, but it also elicited a laugh from us considering our previous conversations. Thus was born the realization that maybe we were unsavoury.
Not that is has actually happened.... but, I somehow doubt that it would not be beyond us to drink before midterms and exams. I'm just saying....just saying... you know like a couple shots of Sambuca... just saying.
Some kid, in the bushes**, keeps jumping out as we walk by saying... "So, you wanna party?". So we do, we heed the call of the man from the bushes. Always. Regardless of whether or not school work needs to be done or if we are going to be going to class in a few minutes.
Thursday, March 3rd 2005. Kira, Adam, Nate, Mike and I in my van. That is ALL I am going to say.
Cunt. Did that word bother you? Because it doesn't bother us... in the least (I take this time to also mention that Richard, Paul and Adam (not the same one from Ryerson) are fellow cunt renegades, using the word to it's stunning potential).
We are absolutely, 100 percent the definition of slackers. Readings, pah! Attend class, pish posh! You see, we realize that our time is better spent with that kid from the bushes, or celebrating birthdays, or just not being in class.
Mike's Ryerson ID. Really. Pedophile.
If you could hear our stories... (puking on the Acropolis, friends crapping themselves/pissing themselves...). So ridiculous.
Saturday, March 5th, 2005. Mike (Adam's roommate's birthday). Oh the calamity that ensued... look for further explanation of the antics another time.

There is so much more I could say, but there has got to be internet police or something. But anyways, we really are morally offensive. But here is the best part of being there morally offensive slackers, we always come out on top. Every exam we have, we rock. I mean it, like we study for a night, and by the end of it, we have successfully taught ourselves entire courses. We are resilient and resourceful. Who else would be able to reuse Marshall McLuhan on like three consecutive exams. We always get to the exam, minutes to spare, roll in. And afterwards, a round of high fives is had by all. We have allies from previous years to aid us in our quest. I mean, if there was an ACS year book, we would be the three kids voted, Most Likely To Flunk Out. But that is only, because our peers are not wise to the intelligent ways of perhaps the greatest trio to grace Ryerson yet. Plus, we do EXTRA CREDIT WORK. We sit for an afternoon, make some clay chickens, and get handed three percent. We truly are amazing, and I enjoy the win-win situation we have placed ourselves in. Always having fun, always doing well.

Now, I don't want you thinking we are bad people, because we aren't. We are just assholes sometimes. So while we are unsavoury yes, there is no doubt in my mind, that in a few years time, we will be bringing the ways of unsavouryness to Thunder Bay, where we learn, how to teach the youth of tomorrow in teacher's college.

I close this post with a list of who I feel have been some of history's most unsavoury characters.

Keith Richards - this guy is number one.
Hitler - seriously unsavoury
Professor Terry Gillin - for a guy who looks like Art Garfunkle, he certainly is a sassy cunt.
Mike Brancatella and the GOT - a real mish mesh of unsavoury people
Heidi Fleiss - Hollywood's youngest madam
Rick Campanelli - the guy is like coming on 50 years old or something, but doesn't look a day over 19, something unsavoury had got to be going on
Guns and Roses c. the 80s - ok them and every other 80s hair metal band (specific shout out to Vince Neil of Motley Crue)
Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie - "dem is some SKAAAAANKY hoes"
The Corey's - poster boys in Tiger Beat one month, rehab's poster boys the next
Faux-Julian - This kid stuck his PENIS inside a calf's mouth so it would suck it, thinking it was a feeding bottle. No really. I told all you city slickers I went to highschool on a barn! We had real bonefide rednecks!

*I would like to just mention that we pertain to the first part of the definition. We do not smell nor taste bad.

**The guy in the bushes is not actually from the bushes. He is Nate. He is Adam's roommate. He will be found in the bushes one day though, this, I am certain of.

Random Filler

2005-03-01T20:10:00.000-05:00

Well, I am preparing a grand rant, on the hell of York University, but with school and life it is taking way more time than I expected, so I figured I'd just post a quick rambling to ensure that my blog isn't naked... although a nekkid blog might be kinda hot.

So today, March 1st, saw a nice blanket of snow over the GTA. It kinda messed my day up a bit, with the wet shoes, and having to get up WAY too early to make it to class. Class was amusing as always, cause well, me and Adam are awesome. Who else notices that their Professor (Klaus Kraay) has the physique of Johnny Depp at the end of the movie Blow. "Disco Shit".

So, on the way to school, I always have a lot of time to think about things. And two things stand out, in relation to my drive into school. The first is that I really rely on those electronic signs. I don't really give a crap about the "Children are precious, buckle up" ones, cause, we all know kids are anything but precious. But the ones that say things like "Lakeshore moving well, GARDENER IS A DEATH TRAP, DO NOT ENTER" or vice versa, really help the drive in. And wouldn't you know it, that sign, my favourite sign...is broken.

I also decided I would like to have the power to read the minds of people coming from the other direction. If I could hear them thinking things like I do, such as "HAHAHAHA! Look at those suckers, driving into a horrible traffic jam" or "Lucky SOBs, they have not one bit o' traffic ahead of them"; I would know whether or not to get off the damn highway.

Now, yesterday as I sat through the biggest piece of garbage Marketing class, I thought of another power I want to possess. I want to be like Alex Mac... remember her, and her "secret world". If I could be all radioactive and just turn into a puddle, I would have been able to escape the evil red jacket TAs. (These guys walk around in matching red jackets and berets, and take away your participation points if you talk... they have some serious power issues. Like this one bearded dude, is total power trip, like stalking around, writing down peoples names.).

Coming Soon: Me as a mind reading puddle... it's going to happen folks.

Oh Sergio, let me count the ways I love thee.

2005-02-24T23:05:00.000-05:00

After my last post (and my MSN picture from a few days ago), that told of my love for the mulleted man of Tim Horton's Courtney Park, I was reminded by Richard, of my real Tim Hortons love. Sergio. Now, there have been many a Tim's story, be it Hidy Hello, Fellatio, or the magician. But, none have stolen my heart like Sergio has. Allow me to elaborate.

The setting: late November of 2004. Tim Horton's/Wendy's at Britannia and Hurontario. I had spent a so far enjoyable evening , laughing it up with members of the S and L, who never disappoint. Most likely we were discussing a series of rather disturbing dreams I had been having. I believe it was around day three of seven that I had the same dream in a row. Either way, I am more than certain that the evening had been nothing but stellar.

We had already been there for about an hour, maybe longer, when the establishment was suddenly beginning to fill with drunken fools. The majority of them were in the middle age bracket, some could have been my father; cougars were certainly on the prowl. They had all spent a rather drunken evening at My Apartment, the Mississauga hot spot for those past clubbing prime and were looking for an after club snack. So these clubbers had been coming in for a few minutes, when I decided to go get another tea for myself. So I get up, and go solo into the Tims line.

I am standing there, and laughing on the inside at all the people who are clearly acting ridiculous for their age, when a "Hello there" breaks my thoughts. I realize that the two 40 year old men in front of me are trying to make some contact. So I smile and say hello back. They then proceed to tell me that they have spent a lovely evening at My Apartment. Then the one who was balding, and had a close shaved head, asks if I was there. Seeing an opportunity to amuse myself while I waited in line, I said "Oh YEAH! Of course I was". We introduce ourselves. And my sweet bald stallion was named Sergio. He then asked "Why did I not see you there?" and I tell him, I was on the dance floor all night, so he should have seen me. He says he doesn't recall, but he probably did. So we continue talking and to amuse myself, I flirt with Sergio and his counterpart, whose physical appearance and name have been long since forgotten. By the time we got to the counter, Sergio bought me my tea, and the rest of the time he was there he kept smiling at me. I tell ya, it's love, the man bought me tea!

Sergio, is the sexiest man on the face of the earth, totally worth marrying. So, anyways, as I said, I was reminded by Richard that Sergio is my true love, and that is why, I have decided to return to Tim Horton's to get a picture with him. I will have to play the part. A drunken club goer. Now, some of you may be saying "Alexandra, YOU CRAZY! How do you expect to find this Sergio, yet again?" But my friends, Sergio is a regular. He has been spotted there, twice, since the original incident. It will not be hard for me to obtain this picture. And when I do, it will be posted on my blog, as it rightfully should be.

Song that is way to stuck in my head: Tom Sawyer - Rush... if I play that keyboard line in my noggin once more (you know the one), I might explode.

Mullet Hunting...at Tim Hortons

2005-02-23T22:47:00.000-05:00

So today was round two at Ikea. I got a new office chair today, and it makes me feel like a dictator. Which apparently, has come to be my new life goal. I am totally going to rule over some small un-expecting drug country in South America. I figure it can't be all that hard. I will have to build a balcony house, like the ones on Mississauga road, so I can yell orders to my subjects, from my awesome home.

If I was dictator of Mississauga, I would make my first order of business the finding of the mullet man from Tim Hortons. I mean, it wouldn't be very hard, considering I see this guy almost once a week. But it would just be magical to break the awkward silence that we hold as two regulars of the same establishment. Last coffee trip, he and I were in line at the same time. An extra large, double double, and a Raisin Bran Muffin. Totally not what I expected at all. I would have pegged him a large black, one sugar, and ten diesel Tim Bits. Then again, I am just weird that way.

Back to my Ikea talk. Now that I have gotten a desk and a new bookshelf, my room is a kickin' place. I would totally spend forever in there. Just me, Brian Wilson, and Mr. Eaton lying in bed. Because anyone who is anyone, knows that back in the days when Mr. Eaton [the greatest razzamajazz man to grace the face of the earth, and teach at Mayfield] was running around touring with the Beach Boys, him and Brian Wilson, were ALWAYS lying in bed together. He so told me. Daryl Eaton is by far the sexiest 64 year old on the planet. Don't believe me, just ask Briana.

So in the end of this post, it seems that I will be a dictator, with an assistant with a mullet, and the sweetest room in the world.

Movie I really want to see: Ong-Bak. Sweet Asian action at its finest, or so I've heard. And we all know I like the Asians (nothing like a good self-burn).

Blog City... here I come.

2005-02-23T02:25:00.000-05:00

So, this is a blog....

Wow... having seen Briana's MSN name for a while now, I kind of got inspired to do this. I am listening to Bright Eyes and writing on a blog... never, ever have I felt more emo than this exact moment. What am I supposed to write in these things?

I went to Ikea today, which is always a pleasing adventure. Except for the time I went with Liz, to get tea candles, for some economics project she had to do. That was a negative on the good times at Ikea. It was hardcore busy, and really confusing, and just not right. Today however, I got a lot of crap, the most pleasing purchases have to be my yellow lamp and a mat that is shaped like a snail. Hopefully once I get these, and my new furniture set up in my room tomorrow, Streetsville will finally feel like home.

Speaking, of Streetsville. This place is weird. It kinda killed my desire to go out all the time. Never have I been content to just sit at home and do nothing. It must be in the water. And everyone drives so SLOW here. Ten under the speed limit seems to be the acceptable pace, for Streetsvillians. I am a menace on the road, with my sweet '95 Caravan, tunes a blasting, actually driving the speed limit and *gasp* going OVER it sometimes. Really, who would think that I would miss the armpit that is Brampton, but oh how I do. I really am suffering from some severe separation anxiety from Brampton. I drove through Brampton today, and really, it felt like it had been years since I was there.

All in all this has been a satisfying day: I had more money in the bank than expected, got my computer from the crazy asians at ITTC, went to Ikea, and spent some quality time with Hudson watching Napoleon Dynamite. Hudson is for sure the coolest guinea pig ever. Re-reading what I just wrote, proves my earlier point that Streetsville is demonic, and ruins people.

Song you should totally listen to: Changing Your Demeanour - The Cheiftans