I don't get the big deal over a movie about two gay cowboys.

I've always just assumed cowboys were gay in all the movies I've seen.

Not only are all of the cheques available to me from my bank boring and/or ugly, but they cost a considerable amount for being simple slips of paper with text imprinted on them.

If not for new guidelines for canadian cheques (yes it's spelt cheques not checks) and odd international banking standards, these hello kitty cheques would be mine.

Nothing says like big money like a pink cheque.

Happy Birthday Jesus.

You bastard.

One of the racial stereotypes that always puzzled me was regarding the supposed genetic predisposition of negroes (aka black people) to like fried chicken and watermelon. It seemed to me that in this age of hypersensitive political correctness, overzealous efforts to strike down stereotypes tread into the realm of trying to alter truth and fact.

Dictionary definition of a stereotype is an oversimplified and generalized misconception of a group, but my lack of social boundaries and my impromptu survey revealed that at least 9 in 10 people do indeed enjoy both fried chicken and watermelon. Why? Because fried chicken is delicious and watermelon ain't no slouch in the sack either.

So what's the issue with this supposed stereotype? Why so much anger and offense over the undeniable fact of universally enjoyed foods? Maybe we just shift our anger to white american culture for coming up with such a dumb stereotype in the first place.

Inpsired by all those cute girls and their cute colorful blogs (most notably: rhea, ari, and now p), I contracted an outside agency to empower high-impact experience innovation and realize the new manifestation of my brand. (I stole that line from workplace marketing, similar to the way they steal my life force)

For those who don't understand marketing speak, nothing has changed but this site now looks darker. It also means I sent jeff some asian porn for making me a new logo.

update: if the site looks all fucked up, hit shift and reload the page.

As a giver, it's a great feeling to finally figure out what to get the most important person in your life. Something you know they'll love and appreciate, not only because the gift itself is awesome but due to the thoughtfulness behind it. Though getting rather late in the game this year with only a week to go before christmas, it finally came to me.

I'm getting myself a new phone.

The best thing about daytime television is catching an episode of maury povich where a mother has tested 10 men and still hasn't found the father of her baby.

I need to meet these women.

See you guys you never listen to me. I said that there was going to be trouble but you didn't listen to me. you guys are crazy. You know you guys are self destructive. There's a funny farm and it has your names written all over it.

(needs IE)

I was inspired by the ex to write a letter to my future self to reflect on the person I am now and to see if I've grown into the person I want to be.
I think that covers it.

Upon reading this news story, my broken heart took refuge in the arms of a sausage and egg mcmuffin this morning.

I am by my own admission an emotionally reckless person. Whereas my sense of adventure for risks financial and physical is muted, I stand in traffic when it comes to women.

From those already in relationships to the emotionally unavailable, I form bonds and emotional attachments akin to kicking a cat with dynamite shoved up its ass with a flaming boot.

Now if only I could blend some good old fashioned moral bankruptcy with my emotional recklessness, I think I could be devastatingly fun for a bit.

The most beautiful and natural thing about childbirth is when the mother makes a poopy while trying to push the baby out.

Am I the only one mildly troubled when people working in food prep are wearing gloves when handling your food but are also wearing those same gloves when handling cash, the phone, garbage, their hair, and all other things the gloves are supposed to keep away from our food?

Back in the fall when I fell in love with a girl, I had the brilliant idea of making her a mix tape for her birthday cos I otherwise suck at giving gifts and making a girl a real analog audio cassette mix tape shows her how totally rad (or awesome) you are.

So I wandered from store to store tracking down a blank 74 minute cassette tape, a cassette walkman (I didn't know if she had a working tape deck to listen to it with) and a friend who could lend me the use of his tape deck (I'm from the future and don't have analog equipment). What did I manage to put together?

Side A:

1. Guns & Roses - Sweet Child O Mine
2. Iron & Wine - Naked As We Came
3. The Cure - Love Song
4. Aimee Mann - Save Me
5. Journey - Don't Stop Believing
6. Morrissey - Hated for Loving
7. Coldplay - Don't Panic
8. The Shins - New Slang
9. Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence

Side B:

1. New Order - Bizarre Love Triangle
2. INXS - Beautiful Girl
3. Simple Minds - Don't You Forget About Me
4. The Postal Service - Such Great Heights
5. Spandau Ballet - True
6. The Killers - Change your Mind
7. Roxy Music - More than This
8. Wham! - Careless Whispers

Obviously a playlist like this was totally going to get me some totally hot action but just about the same time as I made this for her she told me she couldn't leave her man (did I forget to mention that part?) and I was left crushed like a watermelon with the misfortune of being caught on stage with gallagher. That doesn't make this playlist any less awesome though even if it didn't get me the girl.

I've come to the horrifying realization that I just spent two weeks in the states while McDonald's was serving up the mcRib and I had completely forgotten the fact and missed out on the best pressed pork patty smothered in sweet bbq sauce product ever made.

My cat seemed rather unimpressed with my week long absence and the amount of attention my brother gave his litter box and so he took a shit on my carpet to teach me a lesson.