Sweet and Sunny Lo

Should I Eat My Neighbour or Not? ---- ‘The Road’ Movie Review

2010-01-11T21:14:00.003-07:00

Should I Eat My Neighbour or Not? ---- ‘The Road’ Movie Review

You're a survivor in a barren world after a devastating undisclosed apocalypse has destroyed all vegetation, leaving the soil infertile. Nothing will grow. And the earth is cold, and the sun is an echo in your mind. The weather is at best, overcast and cloudy, with a chance of precipitation. You're hungry for a nice juicy steak. But all the cows have been slaughtered for food, long ago. There are hungry cannibals chasing after you. What do you do?

Welcome to 'The Road', a movie based on the Pulitzer Prize winning novel by Cormac McCarthy.

Viggo Mortensen plays the hardened everyman who survives in a barren world, protecting his son (Kodi Smit-McPhee) who was born post-apocalypse, never knowing about playgrounds or the sunshine. They are just alien concepts in a world where the father has just two bullets in his gun: one for his son, and one for himself. Names are irrelevant in a movie like this, where the main characters are suitable called The Man and The Boy. Charlize Theron has a smaller role as The Wife with little hope, in flashbacks seen throughout the movie.

Mortensen has played this role before: a character hardened by circumstances beyond his control, struggling to maintain his humanity. And he does a great job at it, as always. The boy is really good, too, as he struggles to grow up as a lonely, friendless child in a grim, grim world.

Both the director John Hillcoat and cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe paint a bleak landscape full of dirty grey and foreboding, where hope is almost non-existent and compassion will get you killed. They are hauntingly effective. I felt myself drawn into this movie, and found myself wondering, what would I do in a world like this? Some scenes can be quite suspenseful, especially as The Man descends into the darkness down a flight of stairs in different parts of the movie, in search of something---- anything useful to survive.

If there's a movie that will make you question whether your fellow humans will eat you, this is it. If there's a movie that will leave a sick stench of decay in your mouth, this is it. If you like to watch really depressing movies, this is it.

Watch The Road! You'll hate it and love it at the same time. You’ll want to wash your dirty hands afterwards, to wash off the dirt that doesn’t exist.

The Road raises a great question: What do you do in a post-apocalyptic world, where humanity has no future, and extinction is inevitable? Do you resort to cannibalism, suicide, or live a difficult, moral life, based on society that no longer exists?

I know one thing for sure: I'll have to stockpile some canned food in my basement.

Singing "All By Myself" all by myself

2009-09-26T18:51:00.001-06:00

Haven't done karaoke in a long time. Last time I did, I did Eric Carmen's All By Myself. And sadly, I was all by myself singing it, until I got someone to sing along, until I was no longer all by myself. But she wasn't very good, so I think I would've preferred singing All By Myself all by myself.

What's the last song you've done?

War, What is It Good For??

2009-05-08T11:54:00.014-06:00

I just read an amazing article by an female ex-Tamil Tiger guerilla fighter, now a happily married mom living in Australia. Rather than me trying to inadequately critique it, just read the damned thing. Better than me trying to explain it, here it is:

Life as a female Tamil Tiger Guerilla Relived by one of the first female soldiers

On a similar note, I gave a presentation about war a few months back. The idea was to present a topic you hate and then try to make a convincing case that supports this topic. I was inspired by Jonathan Swift. Here is the dialogue:

War, What is It Good For??

This song was written by pussies, too afraid to defend themselves, just a bunch of fucking liberals who were picked on by other kids. Losers. Who want peace and love? Well, fuck them all. What good can that bring? People holding hands and singing ‘Kumbaya’. Have a flower? What the fuck kind of message is that? You killed that fuckin flower by pulling it out of the soil!

War is good, and I’ll tell you why.

It’s in our instinct to kill, to dominate, to be in control. Look at humankind. Why do we eat meat? Because we like to kill things. We like to inflict pain onto other people and other animals. Look at history. People like Genghis Khan, Hitler, Julius Caesar. All men who slaughtered other people. Democracy was made by weak witted fools who wanted to Share. Why? Because they were too weak to fight. So they came up with manmade concepts like morality, justice, and equality. Socratic Dialogue? Socrates was a fucking bum who lived on the streets! Do you think the Spanish Empire gave a shit when they destroyed the Native Indian population of the Americas? Of course not! It is what we are, people. Killers. Murderers. Learn to embrace our nature.

War solves a problem with finality. Got a problem with someone and you want to do something about it? Well, how about wiping them off the face of the world, so that they won’t bother you any more? No need for negotiations. Just get it over with. Jails? Why do we need jails? It’s just wasting our money and resources. Just put prisoners into gladiator fights. It would be both a source of entertainment and reduce costs to society. Even senior citizens, too. What good are they in nursing homes, putting such a huge burden on the health care system? Let them fight to the death. Problem solved. It’s the law of the jungle, baby.

War is honesty. Why talk about it and skirt the issue? Why the fuck should we discuss our problems? Feelings? It’s just another word for pacifism made by tree huggers. Just settle it like men, without talking or sharing your emotions. We are hate deception, and people being sneaky and dishonest. Be proud of yourself and express yourself truthfully. If you hate someone, just tell it to the person’s face instead of behind their back. It’s being true to yourself, instead of bowing to societal norms which force you to hide and suppress your true feelings. And if a fight ensues, so be it. War is what it is. It may not be pretty. It may not be nice. But acting out your emotions is honesty. And couldn’t we use a little more honesty in the world?

As you can see, war is a great thing. It solves problems, and makes us more honest. And who writes history? The victors. Not the losers of a war. The losers are forgotten, as they should be. In essence, they are nothing to us. They have no lasting impression. So why the fuck should we care about them anyway? Only the strong survive. So in essence, war is good. War is love for humanity.

Omegle: A Throwback to the 90s

2009-04-19T00:00:00.008-06:00

Remember those halcyon days of the 90s, when the internet was in its infancy? Well, it's back. Those awesome chat rooms: AOL, ICQ, Alamak. It's conversation with a complete stranger, from the privacy of your own computer, ONLINE! Check out Omegle. Here's a transcript of one of my conversations. And it helps if you know both Chinese and French. And sorry, it's pretty damn long.

Connecting to server...
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You: yo
Stranger: hi
Stranger: what's up
You: so, you know the deal: a/s/l
Stranger: i don' know
You: How can you not know?
Stranger: what do you want to do
You: how bout play golf?
Stranger: i'm a new one
You: From where are you?
Stranger: it spend so much money
Stranger: chinese
Stranger: and you
You: chinese
Stranger: yes
You: yes, it is so
Stranger: did you have been here?
You: i look long at the ocean
Stranger: which province?
You: Henan
Stranger: o
You: u?
Stranger: i study in jiangsu
Stranger: i from guangxi
You: wow
Stranger: live in guangdong
You: Guangdong not Guangxi
Stranger: what's your favorite sport?
You: hockey
Stranger: i grow up in guangdong
Stranger: i like table tennis
Stranger: i was burn in guangxi
You: tennis is good sport
Stranger: do you know my means?
Stranger: but i am a new guy
You: 你好
You: I new too
Stranger: i don't want to speak chinese
You: ok
You: You want to English?
Stranger: if you want to speak chinese
You: no.no, i english to you
Stranger: just simply talk
Stranger: ok
You: how weather now?
Stranger: because my English is poor
Stranger: cloudy
You: Engrish good for me
You: sunny
Stranger: thanks
Stranger: you are not bad
You: outside 10 up temperature
You: i no
Stranger: here outside 19
You: u like ice cream?
Stranger: you are a student or a worker?
Stranger: no
You: I is student
You: U study in what subject?
Stranger: i just like white hot water
Stranger: 工程管理
Stranger: i'm a boy
Stranger: and you
Stranger: which university
You: How is water white? Me girls like
Stranger: sorry
Stranger: i mean hot water
You: Henan University
Stranger: do you know my mean
Stranger: it is a good university
You: u mean good
Stranger: 我在苏州科技大学
Stranger: no,no
You: ok
Stranger: i'm grade two
Stranger: and you
Stranger: may i have your name?
You: university four year
Stranger: my name is Wang guibin
You: my name is Xuo Fuichi
Stranger: oh,my study eld sistrer
You: I like sister older
Stranger: ????
You: My sister is older. I like sister
Stranger: i don't understand your mean
Stranger: do you mind tell me your age?
You: 30
You: sister 31
Stranger: oh
You: sister good
Stranger: i was burn in1986
Stranger: but i like a brother
You: have you brother?
Stranger: why you don't tell me your study subje?ct
Stranger: no
Stranger: i have three sisters
You: how 3 sisters?
Stranger: i'm the second children at my family.
Stranger: one elder sisiter,tow sister
You: i from farm, 2 child only
Stranger: may i have your QQ numbers?
Stranger: en
You: how qq?
Stranger: maybe i know
You: know what?
Stranger: your family just 4 peole
Stranger: people
Stranger: i from counryside
You: yes
Stranger: family is poor
You: work hard, but poor
Stranger: you said it
Stranger: you don't know QQ?
You: no
Stranger: i don't believe you!
Stranger: have past the Englsh grade four test?
You: why
Stranger: Every chinese all know use it
Stranger: just you say haven't the QQ number
You: i am chinese
Stranger: you not??
You: what is not?
Stranger: not is a chinese
You: Honestly, I am Chinese.
Stranger: i feel my English so bad
Stranger: oh
You: It's not that bad
You: You are learning
Stranger: why you didn't have a number
Stranger: about it
You: I do not use it
Stranger: understood
Stranger: thank you your words
Stranger: do you have got marry?
You: No, I am single
You: And you?
Stranger: why
Stranger: you like single?
Stranger: i'm not
You: I have not found right female
Stranger: en
You: I am looking
Stranger: i want to find one
You: It is hard to find someone you like
Stranger: i'm not only short,but also ugly.
You: The one must respect me.
You: How can you say you are ugly?
Stranger: just that you love the one,he don' love you
Stranger: just i think
You: he is male. You like males? Not that there's anything wrong with that.
You: You have beauty inside
You: We all do
Stranger: no
Stranger: u don't have my words
Stranger: how do you know me
Stranger: no
You: I don't know you.
Stranger: all people could use he take it place
You: now this i do not understand
Stranger: why you say that i have beauty inside??
Stranger: 可以用他来指代任何人，明白了吧
Stranger: my mobil phone is 150501****3,you could call me. i want to make a friend to you.do you agree?
You: Well, I don't know. You seem like a nice guy
Stranger: no
You: Lonely, but a nice guy
Stranger: i'm just plain guy.
Stranger: hah
Stranger: maybe
Stranger: a waiting love guy
Stranger: aha
You: Tell you what. And this time I am being honest. Keep talking to people here and you're find other people that you are looking for. I don't think I'm the right guy for you. I'm from Canada, and I am Chinese
Stranger: i don't want to say goodbye.but i have to leave.i great to meet you.
You: A bientot!
Stranger: i know you are honest
You: Parlez vous une autre langue?
Stranger: hope you call mae
You: may whatever winds take us to whichever paths we are destined to follow. I have no idea what that really mans
You: er, means
Stranger: me ,too
Stranger: maybe it is friendship
You: Peut-etre
Stranger: or you could send me e-mail.my a-mail is 25834****@qq.com
Stranger: you are who talk with me so long time people
Stranger: thanks
You: Je peux faire ca. Je sais. Je suis vraiment inquete
Stranger: do you want to have lunch?
Stranger: i could not understang your mean
You: Quoi? Comment on fait ca?
Stranger: i'm a wooden guy
You: How can I possibly have lunch with you?
Stranger: come here with me have lunch,it is my treat.
Stranger: aha
Stranger: yes
Stranger: just come to my sckool
You: I’ll just email you, goddammit
You have disconnected.

NOTE: I have obscured the Stranger's info for anonymity's sake. Sorry to any Xuo Fuichi's out there.

Deliverance: Going From Fernie to Edmonton - How to Not Squeal Like a Pig

2009-02-02T01:44:00.003-07:00

I made it from Fernie to Edmonton in 5 hours. All it took was a GPS, a good car with good passing capability, a driver who cares nothing for speed limits and excellent road conditions.

Also, it's very important to drive on isolated secondary highways with no towns to slow down for, where music playing from the movie 'Deliverance' is not only not unusual, but even expected in the background, where dead bodies will never be found, where clandestine secret cults go to meet and where picking up hitchhikers would almost mean certain death.

And perhaps even more importantly, no cops.

Hunting Season and Ziplines

2007-07-01T18:17:00.000-06:00

So, I went to Calgary for a couple days with a bunch of PharmaFriends.

We went to AHEIA Calgary Firearms Centre, which confuses the hell out of you by using a name that is deliberately uninformative and mysterious. In fact, even in the Yellow Pages, the listing mentioned no address and only a URL and phone number.
Still, I found out that it was cheap. Several bucks for shotgun rental and $8.50 for a box of 25 shells. And even crazier, FREE instruction. In fact, it cost just over $60 total for 5 people, for 2 hours, with free individualized instruction on how to use a shotgun. Clay target shooting, that is. Just like the Olympics. The instructor was good, being a former Olympic competitor. He was very receptive and helpful in teaching us the ways of the shotgun for 1 and 1/2 hrs. I got pretty good at it by the end, shooting about half of the clay pigeons that popped up.

Fun, yet somewhat disturbing, especially since the instructor left us alone for 5 minutes with 4 shotguns and a bunch of boxes of shells. You do the math.

Also, I went on the Zipline, a new thing at Calgary Olympic Park. So you can fly down the ski jump, attached to a wire and a harness. Luckily, I asked, and ain't no one died yet. Just a leg fracture, that's all. And that was because the person didn't follow proper braking procedures. It wasn't as scary as I thought. Still it was pretty cool, flying down the hill, though a bit pricey at $50.

I keep telling my friend Sinister Dex that he should hoop up a Zipline from his Newton Place balcony to DP6069 of the DentPharm building. It would take only 10 seconds to get to class.

The Sickness that Wouldn't Go Away

2006-11-15T16:39:00.000-07:00

For the last week or two, I've had a respiratory infection that has not changed for the last week, for better or worse. The same pattern emerges every day. Wake up. Cough and blow my nose every several minutes. Fight back a fever and headaches. Curse the day sickness made life miserable. Repeat.

I have seen a doctor and got some drugs, but they don't seem to do a thing. I think it's clear the infection is mocking me, messing with my mind. It's just trying to prolong my suffering, like a yapping dog that just grabs onto your leg and won't let go.

I almost wish I was getting worse. That way, at least something would change. Then I would know at least where I stand.

I haven't been going to work the last couple of weeks. I showed once for a couple hours, but then the pharmacist told me to go home, given my coughing fits. I guess it's better if I wasn't coughing on the patients' meds or my co-workers. Something about public health. I still go to school, though. Because well, students are supposed to get sick.

My mom probably thinks I got sick because I moved out and haven't been taking care of myself. Maybe she's right.

Erratic Hodge-Podge

2006-10-31T16:51:00.000-07:00

Hail Halloween, one of the few days where feeding the poor and disenfranchised is recommended, if only in sweets. Unfortunately, I've long been too old for trick-or-treating, which is the domain of small kids and the candically addicted. However, they've been giving out a fair bit of candy at school, thanks to benevolent instructors and students. This should happen everyday.

So, I got myself a cellphone, joining the throng of people perpetually annoying everyone else with those tones that sound off at the most inopportune time. It has a camera, too, so I can take sneaky pictures whenever I want. Of course, now people can harass me 24/7. If you really want to call me, email me first.

I'll be going to my first hip-hop concert on Thursday, to see Jurassic 5. I especially like Chali 2na, who I consider to be the James Earl Jones of rap. Anything he says sounds amazing. He'd make a great cult leader. With that voice, he could command people to erect a statue in his honor, and they would do it, no questions asked. Because they don't want the voice to get angry.

And here's a crazy video by those crazy Japanese people. Frankly, I just don't question what they do anymore. You won't find the answer you're looking for.

Today's topic: English Lessons for Mugging Victims

Different House, Different Basement

2006-10-22T00:26:00.000-06:00

So, I finally moved out. I am now staying with my sister and her husband, at their place.

All I brought over was a Rubbermaid container of clothes and my school bag, threw it into a car and drove off.

I don't feel particularly excited. In fact, I feel as if nothing has really changed. Maybe it'll take some time to get used to it.

I still live in the basement.

A few plusses so far:

It's a pretty new house.
So the carpeting is better.
And my room doesn't have that 'Smell of Death' to it.
My sister and husband are more easygoing.

But it doesn't feel quite right. I'm still looking for a place with the Derelictitious one.

I'll Take Whatever's Behind Door #3

2006-10-13T13:20:00.000-06:00

Man, it's the middle of October, and it feels like the same ole shit as always.

The weather's too cold.
It's getting too dark.
School's a drag.
I still live at home with my parents.
I'm withdrawing into myself.
I'm feeling unmotivated.

There are a few options that could change my life

ONE
My sister has offered me a place to stay at her place.
It'd be a halfway house of sorts, with more independence, and I'd still be living with family. where I'd have to fend for myself mostly, cook my own food, do laundry, etc.
There'd be no rent.
It's in a nice, sedate neighbourhood.
I'd drive to school.

TWO
As well, a friend has suggested getting an apartment together.
I'd have to pay for rent.
I'd have to look for a place to rent.
It might be a mess.
I might hate my roommate.
My roommate might hate me.
It'd be my place.

Dumbasses

2006-10-03T23:39:00.000-06:00

These are some of the lame replies I got in response to my Craigslist ad about the van I am selling.

--------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for the mail, the price,$800 is ok by me as i will like you to kindly keep all buyers off,i will take care of any minor repairs.you have every reason to trust me on this........I called my client and he told me you will be recieving payment (checque $1,700) Any moment from now as soon as i get your full name the checque will be made payable and will be sent through fedex shipping service , so as soon as you recieve the checque ,i want you to have you deduct your own money and send the balance to my shipper via Money Gram transfer to my shipper immediately so the balance sent will be used by my shipper to arrange for the pick up from your location.Pls confirm these and get back to me as soon as possible with your your full name and address including phone number so i can fax it to my manager immediately for the checque to be issued out.here is my number incase you like to contact me for quite transaction 234-80-52779496(i am not in your state right now but i have my manager close to you in the Boucherville..ok

Thanks for the fast response.I will like to know the last actual selling price of the vehicle if there can be any reduction.I will be paying you in money order or cashiers check depending on which one you want.

This is due to the nature of my work beause I am always offshore.This is why i can not come over to see it.But I believe it is what i want and it is in good condition because i want to purchase this for my wife before her return.
Thanks
Regards.

Hello seller,i saw this car on this auction site and i  am very much
interested in purchasing it,i will be making the payment via cheque,so
get back to me with the amount you will like to have for it and get back
to me with the information in which you want the payment made to such
as

FULL NAME:

FULL ADDRESS:

CITY:

ZIPCODE:

STATE:

COUNTRY:

Get back to me asap,so that the payement can be made asap.Look forward
to read from you

-------------------------------------------------------------

My question of course is, WHO THE HELL ARE THESE FUCKERS?

I feel like kicking these dumbasses in the junk. I've only got one serious reply so far.

You Better Know When to Hold 'Em

2006-09-25T00:44:00.000-06:00

On the weekend, I went to the casino. I played blackjack and won $25. Feeling that blackjack had become a bit too easy, I wanted another challenge.

I wanted to try my luck at poker, having seen it on TV all the time. Looked easy enough. Bet some money. Either win or lose. So I put my name on a waiting list to play poker. Half an hour later, my name was called, and I sat down to play $1-2 blind no-limit Texas Hold 'Em.

As someone in Rounders said, "If you can't spot the sucker in the first half hour at the table, then you ARE the sucker." Good thing I spotted the sucker in a second.

Problem was, I was the sucker.

I was in way over my head. There was the typical greasy-haired dude, shuffling hundreds of dollars of chips while looking all beady-eyed, scrutinizing all the players. Other people bet $50 or $100 without a second thought. Immediately realizing that I was fresh meat, the old lady next to me gave me advice, though I was too fresh to put it to any good use. The one thing that stuck out was that I was playing at the wrong table for someone with no experience.

Everything went really quickly, and I didn't have time to process anything happening at the table, except my fear of screwing up. I folded most of my hands without a bet. Every time I put money into the pot, I folded whenever another player raised.

In the end, feeling like raw meat in a sea of starving sharks, I got up and left the table.

I lost a humbling $10 in an hour of poker. I still ended up winning $12 overall at the casino, although I felt like I had lost.

New Job, Old Thought

2006-09-17T12:54:00.000-06:00

So I got me a new job working in a pharmacy in the north-east end of town. It should be fun, dealing with an interesting mix of seniors, Indian affairs, the slightly downtrodden and various other groups. I'll be working 1-2 times a week. It'll be a good learning experience, on my way towards the path of respectability.

I did some LARPing on Saturday. No, not the stuff with swords and helmets. Rather, I was a pharmacist and an actor played a 50-something year old cancer patient. When she pretended to cry, I wasn't sure what to do. Was I supposed to give her a hug, give her a tissue, or something else? Spying the Kleenex box at the edge of the table, I decided to give her a tissue the moment she shed a tear. Although her eyes were watery, no tears formed. After a few seconds, I decided to give her a tissue anyway, despite the lack of tears. She gladly accepted.

This reminds me of the time in elementary when the teacher brought up the question, "Does anyone know what role-playing is?" Being the D & D geek that he was, Kev eagerly raised his hand, practically foaming at the mouth to answer, like he REALLY had to go to the bathroom, and couldn't wait for fear of his bladder exploding. I'm pretty sure Mike and maybe Warren were also about to explode.

The teacher picked some girl and she answered, saying something like it was someone pretending to be another person, like acting.

When Kev finally realized that we were not going to kill a golem during class, he reluctantly went back to his miserable existence, thinking of the most efficient way to skin a cat.

New Car, Old Car

2006-09-14T11:27:00.000-06:00

We just bought a new 2007 Toyota Rav4. It's a pretty sweet ride, being a new car and all. They updated the model this year, so it's a lot better than previous years's models and the current Highlander, which is supposed to be the next higher end model. Can't wait to test it out, driving around like I own the road and being dismissive of everyone else driving their crappy, old, rusty cars.

So now we got a 1989 Plymouth Voyager LE minivan for sale.

Anybody got any good ideas for selling the minivan?

Anybody actually want to buy the minivan? $1000 OBO? What would you pay for the car?

Reunion on Whyte: El Lobo Remix

2006-09-06T19:39:00.000-06:00

For the original edit, click here.

So, there I was, me and a couple Pharmacy buddies walking down the street. We had just finished a full day of exams, a day before the school year would even start. The exams were supposed to be a cumulative test of the 2 last years of school. Pretty messed up, eh? Yes, I know.

Straight out trippin after our harrowing day, we needed to unwind. We planned to pick up some beers and cigars, and enjoy them on one guy's 18th floor balcony overlooking the U of A hospital.

Out of nowhere, a strange face accosted me. Not strange exactly, but rather unexpected. It was one of my best friends, Warren.

He was supposed to be back in town, only I didn't know when. He and his friend were going to meet up with our old high school friends, people we ain't seen in years after a chance encounter on the street. He said that he was looking for some tea cafe. And he was with Pete Wong.

"Oh yeah, where he at?" said I.
"He be on his way," said Warren. "Just you wait."

A half minute later comes Slippery Pete, loping around like an armless chicken dressed in a nice fancy suit. He looked the same since the last time I saw him, on the streets of Toronto.

After I gave Pete a chest bump for old times' sake, Warren and Pete still needed to find this place called Steeps.

I ditched my original Pharmacy crew, being that I was going to see them tomorrow.
"We'll see you on the 18th," said they.
"There better be some stuff when I get back," said I.

At Steeps, there was Karr-Ming and Leila, the VB pack.
KM was now running one of the hospitals in town; the recently engaged Leila had returned from a long stay in Japan.
KM said about 50-odd people showed up at the 10-year reunion, which actually wasn't too formal, just a gathering at some bar.

Fashionable late came Owen Jung aka OJ aka the Juice. Looking slightly unruffled, carrying a shoulder bag, the Juice was as juiced up as always, feeding off the high from his natural juices. His juice rubbed off on the rest of us.

The Juice sounded like he was about to be living in a cardboard box, if things didn't pick up, back in grad school with no job and loan sharks knocking on his door.
Slippery Pete was now articling his way to the top of a downtown law firm, working mad hours for mad respect.

We talked. We reminisced. Ain't nobody really changed. Throw us into plaid flannel, skater shoes, Mondetta shirts and Rachel haircuts and into a 10 year time machine and nobody would've missed a step.

Later, on the balcony, I had a beer and a cigar as I watched the slowing trickle of traffic down below.

A Trip to the Charcuterie

2006-09-02T15:42:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, I finished my hospital pharmacy rotation. No patients were harmed (by me) during the course of my rotation. Of course, 10 days is hardly enough to see everything you want. It's barely a cup of coffee, as some might say.

So, at night, I went with some pharmacy friends and friends of friends to Whiskey, Calgary's premiere charcuterie. Fortunately, one of the guys knew the owner, so the guy wearing sneakers was allowed in, despite not fitting the dress code.

As meat markets go, there was a wide range of variety, better than I've seen in Edmonton. White meat, dark meat. There were some prime cuts, meat past its expiry date, and the always popular meat of indeterminate origin. Of course, it was imperative to avoids meats afflicted with Mad Cow Disease, since the effects could be deadly.

There were some really juicy and succulent looking steaks out there, with some real spicy seasoning. They were some choice steaks just sizzling in the pit, stewing and tenderizing in the own juices. Simply mouth-watering.

Of course, there was lots of sausage out there, too, which I was not particularly interested in. There were some strange kebabs on display, too, like a steak sandwiched between sausages.

As it turns out, there is a nice prime rib grilling steak in my fridge just waiting to be seasoned, barbequed and devoured.

Mmmm...I'm hungry.

Update: Thanks for Cibbuano for pointing out boulangerie was the wrong word. Though I gotta say boulangerie sounds funnier.

Hot Dogs and Drive-bys

2006-08-26T23:24:00.000-06:00

The problem with work is the bloody hours. Having to get up to go to work at 7:30am is, without a doubt, the doing of old people.

I've had more coffee over the last few days than I've had in the previous two months. My preceptor even noticed me almost falling asleep WHILE he was talking to me. Guess I just don't like sitting and listening for 30 minutes nodding my head and saying words like "uh huh" and "yep".

Hospital pharmacy seems more interesting than retail pharmacy since you interact with different types of people and since health care professionals in the hospital just seem to care more.

On Friday, Dr. Phil, an associate of mine, and I ventured out to experience Calgary's nightlife. We walked around the downtown area to see what's happening.

Stephen Ave is populated by the after-business types who go to the bar after a hard day of work. Not surprisingly, we found only one bar on this avenue that lacked an air of pretentiousness, and where we wouldn't draw looks of disdain from our after-tennis attire.

Next we went to 17 Ave S, known to some as the Red Mile, after the Calgary Flames' 2004 Stanley Cup run, where some teen-aged girls showed their ... um ... wares. We found a cool place called Tubby Dog. Tubby Dog is a retro 60-70s diner that serves good old fashioned hot dogs and some newer concoctions, such as a hot dog with peanut butter and jelly and Captain Crunch. On the weekends, they have DJs playing old school music like Al Green and the Supremes and project obscure cartoons on the wall while you enjoy your dog.

--------------------------------

Saturday, I saw three festivals downtown.

1. The Chinatown Street Festival, which featured Chinese opera that may or may not cause insanity as well as a ping pong ball ejector that hopelessly overwhelmed undercoordinated kids.

2. The Expo Latino, a tasty fusion of Latin cuisine and beats, that unfortunately cost $10 to enter.

3. Shakespeare at the Park, where I caught the last act of Romeo and Juliet.

It should be noted that the Expo Latino and Shakespeare were at war, since they were both located closely in the same park. Sadly, Juliet could not poison herself beside Romeo's still warm body before the machine-gun wielding drive-bys from the loco Latino gangs finished her off.

Strange Days

2006-08-21T18:58:00.000-06:00

Saturday, at 4:30 am, as I was crashing at Derelict's place, I woke up. Still drunk from our bender at Blues on Whyte to see master bluesman Russell Jackson, I smiled.

I was happy. And I laughed. And laughed. I felt this strange joy in my heart. I wept with tears of elation. And so this behavior continued in various durations and intensities. For one hour.

--------------------------------------------------

The next night, in Calgary, I woke up at 2:30 am. And I could not sleep. For three hours.
Sure, it may have been too warm at night, but it was more than that. My mind could not rest. It was too full of ideas: silly ones, optimistically elaborate schemes. I was thinking of the next day. Of my hospital pharmacy orientation. Of girls. Of the future.

--------------------------------------------------
In the morning, I felt alive, cheerful, chatty. I talked to a very cute girl for several minutes. She had great big receptive eyes. Disarmingly adorable, expressive mannerisms in her body language. And a peculiar way of raising the pitch at the end of some of her words. And she wasn't wearing any rings. Jackpot.

Late in the afternoon, I felt dead. I was feeling the effects of fatigue. I barely had the energy to walk back to my car to drive home in the hot, sweltering weather. And the horribly slow crawl of rush hour on under-construction Glenmore Drive could have ignited many incidents of road rage. I listened to Belle and Sebastian, the perfect soft, soothing music for the angry testosterone-driven roads we drive on today.

I feel like a different person.

A Friend Going Down A Different Path

2006-08-17T12:00:00.000-06:00

You remember Derek, right? That former peace-lovin, treehuggin, free-lovin hippie that once vowed to 'stick it to da Man'? He is now a diaper-changin, office worker who now goes to sleep at 10 pm for something he likes to call 'work'. In short, he is now the Man. How could his life have been so horribly twisted?

Derek is now a member of the 'Bar'. Yep, I saw it. In a ceremony best described as renouncing his pagan roots and making a handshake with the Devil, Derek officially became a lawyer. To be fair, Derek was mocked for his proficiency for using Ziploc bags in a crowded Indian bus and his crossdressing tendencies, to which he attributed to the foolhardiness of impressionable youth.

The reception at the law firm afterwards involved wine and cheese and expensive imported beers reserved only for preferred guests.

His elite lawyer buddies talk about driving their new M6s , J45s and THX-1138s down the QEII at 200 kph. Irresponsible? Not when you can hire a fancy German autobahn expert to testify that driving at this speed is quite reasonable. Pretty soon, Derek will be invited to $25 million homes to discuss the most efficient way to house the poor in squalid shantytowns while ruing the perils of shipping Italian marble across the Atlantic Ocean.

Derek, already with a fancy 25th story office with a excellent window view, is no longer content. He now demands an office with at least 3 marbletop desks, a private bathroom and a properly trained masseuse.

Mr. Beaulac....um....Elliott, we hardly knew ye.

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: This account, while based on real events, may contain some factual inaccuracies

Post Number 22

2006-03-30T17:56:00.000-07:00

In case anyone wants to know, I have forsaken the beard, since basically, it looked like crap. I could not bear it. It was a monstrosity, unkempt, untamed. I could not bear the responsibility of taking care of it.

The problem with these blogs are is that there will always be someone doing the same thing you are. Try searching about anything you write. Chances are it's already been done before.

Cow testicles. Done.
Monkey assassins. Done.
Fluorescent chalk. Done.

Maybe I should get a little more creative.

I'm starting to choose my classes for next year. By choose, I mean one, since every other course is predetermined. I have one option next year, and I should make the most of it.

I'm looking at stuff ranging from Film Studies, or Drama, or Badminton, among others. I am looking for something fun, easy, and non-Pharmacy related. Enough with the drugs already. I want something where thought is not so structured and geared towards memorization. I've had enough of that for now. A reprieve, a change of pace would be appreciated. I'll probably end up taking something like The Anthropology of Star Trek.

A couple things I discovered on the Internet:

What was Samuel L. Jackson thinking, doing this movie? Maybe he's got a nasty cocaine habit or he's a comic visionary. It's called Snakes on a Plane, which could be either the best or worst movie ever. Decide for yourself.

I have been watching Celebrity Jeopardy, at least the SNL version. Freaking brilliant. Brings me to tears.

Oh, Mr. Connery, why do you have to be so mean to Alex Trebek? What did he do to you?

Why I Forsook Shaving

2006-03-16T10:11:00.000-07:00

So I recently stopped shaving last week. Why, you might ask?

Well, I really wanted to do something to prevent world hunger.

And I thought that by not shaving, it would draw attention to the fact that my act of not shaving is symbolic of the struggles that people living in third world countries face everyday. I mean, why worry about trivialities like shaving when you can't put enough food on the table?

People have commented on my beard, which surprising looks like a goatee, only spread out sparsely, like a dab of butter knifed too thinly onto a slice of toast.

I know the beard looks absurb. Oriental people, save a select few, are not gifted with the proper physical attributes to grow facial hair with distinction. Rather, they are much more likely to be mocked because the beard lacks that certain fullness suggestive of rugged masculinity. Unfortunately, I lack that critical hair density required to achieve that full effect.

Fortunately, it is relatively symmetrical, for which I am grateful, so that from a distance, it may look somewhat respectable. There are a few barren patches, most notably one above the middle of my upper lip. I must be honest, though. There are a few stray hairs here and there that I have selectively shaven to achieve a more balanced look.

Even my mom thinks I look crazy. She's like, "You look like a bum. Why are you doing this? You should do this when you're older, when you'll be mature and more respectable, not when you are a student."

But her complaints must go unheeded. I must stay true to myself and my convictions.

Do You Have Rhythm?

2006-03-10T08:26:00.000-07:00

Some people say I'm a pretty good dancer. That's why some people said as I broke out some moves at the Blue and Gold Ball, the annual dinner for pharmacy students, where everybody dresses up, all hoity-toity like.

"Smooth" you might say. That's what one girl said to me. Honestly, I think some people are on crack.

They must be mistaking flailing my arms and legs senselessly in an epileptic fit as dancing. Just because I can move my arms and legs doesn't mean I have soul or rhythm, or what black people call the "shiznit". You need coordination, the footwork. It's a minor miracle I don't fall down or knock somebody down every time I get on the dance floor .

I have never taken dance lessons. Well, excluding that time in Grade 8 called social dance. But that was a time when the boys and girls would huddle off into their respective segregated corners of the gym, all awkwardly glancing at their feet or nervously looking at the other side. Still others would eagerly anticipate their chance to dance with that person you've always secretly been admiring. That is until, you notice that your partner's hands are sweating like crazy. At least I know if Cadillac Ranch plays, I can show off my line dancing.

In fact, anyone can perform such moves as the Shopping Cart, the Lawnmower and the 'Gunshot to the Head'. It's really quite simple: You can do anything you want on the dance floor and you can be considered progressive, as long as you don't care what people think.

WEATHER ADVISORY

2006-03-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

Cold weather alert! An unseasonably large snowfall is expected today. Farmers making a pact with the devil have been implicated in the manner.

If you have any 'Yo quiero Taco Bell' sized pets, DO NOT let them walk outside because they will certainly drown in the snow. And they'll freeze to death anyway in this weather.

Who wants hot dogs?

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So I was sitting there with Mike, listening to the sweet sultry tunes of the Afrofunk-Latin-ska-reggae-TexMex fusion band. The beats from the conga drums were making my internal organs do the salsa. Although I did not understand the words, I understood the sexy voice singing it. I had a pint in my hand, oblivious to the outside world. The weather was warm .

A warm tropical breeze permeated the air. The beach.

If a suicide bomber had come at that moment and blown up the bar, he was too late, because I was already in paradise.

But I had a question, "Why would he wear a pullover in this warm weather?"

Montreal

2006-02-14T15:56:00.000-07:00

In many ways Montreal is the Canadian version of Vegas. Not in the gambling sense, but in terms of doing crazy shit that you wouldn't normally do at home.

While other Pharmacy students were going to class, or even worse, studying, a contingent of about 50 U of A students went to Montreal, eager to learning about current pharmacy issues, or more likely, party like it was 1984.

I was eagerly anticipating going to Montreal, because well, it's Montreal. There's lots to do there, from each smoked meat and poutine to going to the strip clubs to shopping and seeing French stuff. In theory, the reason I was going was PDW, but really, who's more excited about going to see a pill sorting machine than walking the streets of Montreal?

So I left Edmonton just after midnight Tuesday, due to arrive 8am Wednesday morning in Montreal. I ended up arriving near 6pm. If you're paying attention, that's 10 hours more than it should've. I blame Air Canada. And Montreal. And the God of Weather. Maybe I should've sacrificed a French-Canadian goat. That may have prevented a 10 hour delay in Toronto because of freezing rain in Montreal. When I had finally arrived in Montreal, it was already dark, and the day was already wasted.

I could hear both English and French while crossing a street, or jaywalking as most locals do, creeping slowly into the intersection until a suitable lull in traffic occurs, oblivious to the signs and police mere footsteps away.

We stayed at the Hyatt Regency, centrally located within walking distance of lots of stuff. Four or more people packed into a room with 2 beds. Due to the cramped environment, me and my roommates grew closer together and even intimately at times, for better or worse.

The PDW started off with an opening banquet on Wednesday night, a semi-formal event followed by a dance afterwards. Everyone looked great, dressed in their formal wear, making me glad I did not simply bring T-shirts and jeans to wear.

I must admit, I did not attend many PDW seminars because of the other distractions in Montreal. Most of the seminars were presented in English, with PowerPoint presentations in both French and English.

The first day was the day of the stripper. Along St. Catherine, a bunch of us went to Supersexe, a place where you can get a free buffet while watching strippers. I don't know about you, but I don't really feel hungry when watching women doing their thang. Nice to know, though you can multitask yourself by committing two of the seven deadly sins, at the same time.

At the club, there was the option of a private show with 2 willing ladies who would do virtually anything you tell them to do to each other. Suffice it to say, a classmate said, "it was the best $20 I've ever spent."

Since a bunch of people didn't get their fix, some people went to another club, Super Contact, where you guessed it, contact was allowed, for $10 a song. Mevin was amazed at how much time flies in such a situation. It was like time just slowed to a standstill, while immersed in a soft, comforting embrace. He said one song seemlessly blended into another, melted into the background.

One classmate was enlightened enough to bring a trophy along on the trip, named the Bill Thulman Trophy, awarded to the person who did the stupidest thing while in Montreal. Although no one actively tried to win it outright, there were many opportunities borne out of striaght stupidity and drunkenness, mostly of the falling down and breaking stuff or hurting oneself variety .

Thursday night, there was a pharmacy-only outing at Altitude 737, a bar located on the top 2 levels of a skyscraper. Unfortunately, the club lacked the capacity to hold everyone, and so a lineup for the elevator stretched outside. Inside, the fogged up windows precluded us from seeing a great vista of Montreal, so everyone just mingled, bumping and twitching to music like sardines in a can.

Friday, with most people still recovering from the daze of the last few nights’ events, the Drug Health Fair took place, with many companies showing up to promote their wares, and more importantly for others, handing out free drug samples; notably, the Advil reps handed out samples by the fistload. Friday afternoon, there was a Quebecois Themes and Traditions event that featured maple syrup taffy tasting, complimented with warm cider.

Friday night, a Pharmacy cover band rocked a Retro themed night at Medley, a great venue for a band covering songs ranging from the Beatles to Franz Ferdinand. The night kicked ass, as the Pharmacy band played songs the audience loved, with the retro theme providing hideously hilarious opportunities to show off your 70s/80s fashion style.

Saturday night, the closing banquet occurred, much like the opening banquet. This time, it was punctuated by a performance by a Cirque du Soleil troupe, highlighting incredible feats of acrobatics and flexibility, not to mention the all too revealing skin-tight spandex outfits of its members. Still, the acrobats were pretty crazy, jumping through hoops and doing crazy ninja-like stuff, only in white spandex and without shuriken-induced deaths.

Sunday, we had to leave. I spent some time walking around St. Laurent, and bought a funky T-shirt before I had to go.

Every night, I did not get to sleep before 3 am, and was hanging out in the hotel room while drinking, hitting up in the clubs, or getting some late night food.

Now I'm back home, back in school. Sighhh.....

Missing In Action

2006-02-07T23:48:00.000-07:00

Where do I begin?

Contrary to some reports, I was not sold into the sex-trade industry in Montreal, nor was I asked to spy on the French, nor was I abducted by aliens.

I have been back in Edmonton for a couple weeks, and have been preoccupied with school. Not to say I was busy with school, that's another matter.

You know how you procrastinate sometimes? Well, last month I was supposed to write/edit a newsletter for the Pharmacy students at school. It was supposed to be out at the start of the winter semester. Yes, that would be a few weeks ago.

Well, I hadn't done anything for it. And I felt bad about it. So I did the only thing that made sense. I put it off. Assume that it didn't exist. I just couldn't get myself to do the paper. I didn't want to ask for help doing it. Frankly, I was kinda overwhelmed by having to do this project. I delayed. Watched some TV. Surfed the net. Read the paper. Anything to avoid human contact.

Of course I couldn't put it off forever. I do not live in a bubble. (Though that would be interesting. I'd probably be bored with the lack of contact with the outside world.) My actions do affect other people. Most notably the VP-Publications. She noticed the edition of the Pharmacy Quarterly had not come out yet and wanted to know when it was coming out. I gave her some half-assed excuse that it was coming out pretty soon, being deliberately vague.

I went into hiding to avoid the situation. I missed a few classes. I stayed quiet, under the radar. I let this splinter in my mind fracture the rest of my interactions with the world. My life became more dysfunctional than it normally was. I decided I couldn't in good conscience do stuff like update my blog until I finish the newsletter. Isn't that perfectly logical?

After many frustrating days of badgering, delusions and procrastinating, I finally finished it, about 4 weeks after it was supposed to come out.

I can't imagine what will happen when I encounter some real adversity. I'd probably hide in a shed somewhere in the wilderness, and have a shotgun pointed at the door.

And I found out one job I really don't like: editor. I hate finding stuff to edit. Find flaws in something. Getting formatting right is really annoying. It sucks making sure columns are aligned properly and maybe it's Pagemaker. The GUI is pretty counterintuitive, at least for me. You can only undo something once. You can't just rotate pictures easily. You can't highlight text and edit right away. God, I hate the program. I'd like to give it syphillis.

So, what about Montreal? It was awesome. I'll talk about it in my next post.

In Search Of...

2006-01-15T17:40:00.000-07:00

Me and a classmate of mine have always casually wondered, "Where do all the Asian girls in town go to have fun?" In our quest for Oriental delicacies, we went to The Rum Jungle. No girls. We went to that other place in West Ed, Escape. Some girls, depending on the night. But in the back of our minds, we were always wary of being shot at by gang members. We went to the Standard. A few yellow patches here and there, but nothing much. So the prospects seemed pretty slim for finding an Oriental utopia.

But on Friday night, we discovered where are the Oriental girls hung out: bubble tea shops. And it was due to the fact that a friend we were with didn't have his ID when going to the local sluttery barn, the Armoury, formerly known as Club Malibu. So instead of ditching the one friend who was ID-less, we decided to wander Whyte Ave for other sources of entertainment. And we stumbled upon this bubble tea shop just off Whyte, Dream Tea House.

Well, not girls, exclusively, but where the Asian ratio was something like 10:1. And there were people of all ages there. The thing I liked about it were the couches. Any place that has couches gets my seal of approval. Couches send the message that we're not all about making money and it's ok to just hang out here as long as you like, to sit and relax, and to take your time.

And it was a relaxed atmosphere, where people were playing dominos, and a game I don't think I had ever seen played in person: Jenga. Maybe next time I'll bring a deck of cards and play poker for the bill.

I ordered a bubble tea with logan and ginger. Dee-licious.

And after the ID-less one did leave, the rest of us decided to go to the Armoury, and it was everything I had expected, for better or worse. Packed with people, writhing like sardines in a can to Top 40. Hideous washrooms with paper towels clogging the sink.

I'm off to Montreal on Tuesday night, to go to PDW, aka Pay-Day-Dooble-Vay as the Quebecers might say, or Professional Development Week. It's a pharmacy student conference where we are supposed to be learning about the profession and listening to speakers talking about pharmacy. But the main draw is Montreal. I'll be back on Sunday night.

Apath...uhh..screw it

2006-01-10T14:44:00.000-07:00

Well, this week is the start of a new school semester. Am I excited? Not really. Do I care? Not really. And that is the problem all along. I just don't care about anything much.

I have a night course right now, which kinda sucks since I gotta go to school at night, it takes up precious time that I could better use doing absolutely nothing. It's a collaborative effort working with all the other health care professions, ranging from Nutrition to Physical Therapy. So I got assigned to a group with 6 other people. Our team name is Raging Hamsters. I think we're supposed to do a presentation down the road, like the great Do Bugs Need Drugs topic. At least it's a pass/fail course, so as long as I don't tell kids to drink cough syrup as if it was water, I should be fine.

What the hell do I actually do with my time? All the ridiculously banal stuff like surf the internet and watch TV aimlessly, looking up sports and shit, perhaps in a vain attempt to increase my knowledge and realize my potential, which is something that I feel I have lost. I feel I got no sense of perspective or reality, other than a dull, nagging sense that I can't do anything, the confidence having been sapped out of me a long time ago. Laziness, passivity. To fear everything, shirking any semblance or responsibility, in a confused, self-consciously obsessed state, perpetually trying to delay the inevitable passage of time.

But do I have anything cool to mention?

I had a chicken donair from Marco's Famous, and quoth the Lord: it was good.

I watched the political debate, like the responsible citizen I should be, and though I really wasn't that interested in it, I still watched it, out of some civic duty. I caught the last half of it.

As always, Harper looked like a robot, evidently with a few smile and frown subroutines added for flavor.

Martin seemed flustered, and frustrated, like a person who has hemorrhoids, and resigned to the fact that they simply won't go away. He was constantly attacked by all sides for any hint of scandal and corruption.

Layton was the third alternative against the Americanized Conservatives and the corruption-laden Liberals. He seems like the guy with the most charisma, yet he lacks real credibility because he is NDP. Like a high-end car salesman.

And what can you really say about Duceppe? He doesn't really have to do anything. He's pretty much a lock to win the votes of Quebec voters. He could show up for the debate in a bath robe and slippers and still win the majority of the seats in Quebec, because he is a francophone in a French-speaking province.

Here's one of funniest movies I've seen in a while, portraying Peter Molyneux, creator of games like Populous and Dungeon Master, as a evil genius game designer, if he isn't one already. Link
Props to Blight for showing us the light about The Movies game. Why actually play the game when you can make movies instead? Too bad I can't play it since I'm still running Windows 98. Well, at least I don't get as many viruses as those using XP. Still, I need to upgrade one of these days.

New Year's

2005-12-31T16:16:00.000-07:00

By now, the effects of the painkillers and sleep-inducing agents have largely worn off, but I am still in pain and feel tired. A couple days snowboarding at Marmot Basin will do that to you. The weather was nice, but the skiing conditions were not that great, with a lot of icy patches, especially on the lower, more heavily used runs.

To rent or to buy a snowboard, that is the perennial dilemma. I rented.

The Jasper nightlife is still pretty tame, especially on a Wednesday night at the Atha-B. At least it was cheaper and not too noisy at the lodge.

This should be Jasper's new slogan:
Jasper, the quieter, more studious cousin to Banff. With 50 percent less weed and STDs.

As usual, my Christmas stash consisted largely of money and clothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, although I am still left with a sense of disappointment because it is the same predictable stuff year after year. I am still waiting for a present that will just knock my socks off, like a couple tropical islands, populated with beautiful women and lots of mangos.

What am I doing this New Year's Eve? Going to my friend Derelict's phantasmorgasmic celebration, Revive.

Brown is the new white

2005-12-23T10:48:00.000-07:00

So to all you fools out there, I am done school for the year.

As I am typing this, I see most of the words on the screen are in Chinese, since I am using my parents' computer, but for some reason, the word blog is still 'blog'. I looked up Chinese blog, and apparently, the winner of the jury prize winner in the Deutsche Welle International Weblog Awards 2004, the first international blog competition is 'The Dog Newspaper', which highlights the unfair treatment of dogs in Asia compared to the Western world. Quoth the Chinese erotic blogger star and jury member Mu Zimei:

"The Weblog can be understood as a parable. The way dogs live is projected onto the lives of humans - dogs' rights onto human rights."

While I don't aspire to such worthy ideals in my blog, it does show how blogs can be a useful source of information. But the problem is, when I check out the blog in question, it's all in Chinese, which raises the question: Do many German know Chinese, or is the largest faction of the jury composed mostly of Chinese people, voting upon sectarian lines. Maybe there weren't enough Germans voting for the sauerkraut blog.

Anyhow, it's only 2 days until Christmas, and I haven't done any Christmas shopping yet. I am imagining it will be one huge orgy of people buying stuff at the last minute, me included. Unfortunately for me, I have no idea what to buy, so I will probably end up buying some crappy present that no one will appreciate. (Gee...thanks..... Socks...again...)

Does Christmas shopping really defines one's character? Are you what you buy? Why even shop? Yes, it's one of the great mysteries of life.

And it looks like we will be having a brown Christmas in Edmonton. It's just plain crazy. Maybe I should go shoppin'.

Ho ho ho

2005-12-12T23:18:00.000-07:00

It's almost Christmas time again, and frankly it's not a big deal. Right now, it's just an excuse for commercialism, and godamnit, how can you celebrate Christmas when there is no snow on the ground? Maybe it's fine for people in California or Florida, but this Canada. I don't know how other people do it in the warmer parts of the world, but here, having Christmas without snow is like having KFC without the special blend of herbs and spices. I mean , it's just not the same. It's unnatural. I think Christmas should be banned in places where there is no snow, or at least called something else, like Hanukkah.

Is it possible to not have a white Christmas in Edmonton? I doubt it, although it is unseasonably warm.

I still haven't put up my Christmas tree, it's been the same one used for the last 20 years. and it never gets old, it could probably last for another 100 years. Nothing like artificial trees , that don't lose needles like regular trees. I find I don't care much about buying Christmas presents. Maybe I have just become cynical.

I was thinking about my legacy, you know, what my contribution to the world is, and really, I haven't done much that is really memorable, stuff that would make people say, "Look, there goes the greatest man in the world." I was considering immortalizing myself in the Wikipedia, so people could know who I was, but then after doing some research, I guess creating an article about yourself is strongly discouraged. Supposedly, if you have contributed something meaningful. then someone else would have made an entry on your behalf. It's like giving yourself a nickname. Nicknames should only be given to you by other people. So, if anyone has anything worthwhile to write about me, do it.

Guess there is a consolation prize of sorts: Wikime, which is intended to be a name repository for the unfortunately obscure.

Thoughts of Another Day

2005-12-05T16:07:00.000-07:00

The life of a student does kinda suck. I've had tests every week for the last 2 months, except for one. Is it really a surprise that my social life consists of asking other classmates about what answers they got for the test we just wrote?

I'm sure we just like to whine about our student lives until we can finally get out of debt and afford to buy that fancy yacht and have shrimp cocktails out by the marina with our golfing buddies while lighting cigars with a $20 bill. Yes, that will be the day...

Ever wanted to read a book, but never had the time? Well here's the thing for you. A cell phone company is making text message books for all the people who are too lazy and grammatically illiterate to read a real book. Here's the supercondensed Coles Notes version of Pride and Prejudice:

5SistrsWntngHsbnds.NwMenInTwn-Bingly&Darcy Fit&Loadd. BigSisJaneFals4B,2ndSisLizH8sDCozHesProud. SlimySoljrWikamSysDHsShadyPast. TrnsOutHesActulyARlyNysGuy&RlyFancysLiz. SheDecydsSheLyksHim.Evry1GtsMaryd.

Lk, lol.DtSoCoo! Wonder when the Bible edition comes out. It would probably be something like: "GodGut.DvlBad.BlaBlaBla.MmmFish." Well, maybe not the last part, but you get the idea.

Donnie Darko, this is a cool movie. Any movie that discusses important issues like the sexual preferences of Papa Smurf and Smurfette and what happens when a jet engine from another universe drops into your bedroom get my vote. It's also got some really catchy music, from the 80s, including a band with the really strange name:Echo and the Bunnymen. Who in their right mind would name a band with that name? Makes me want to wear a Cosby sweater.

Oh, Mr. Men, where have you gone? After checking my buddy BeaverPhear's blog, I came across one of fonder memories from childhood. I love the simplicity of these books. They are as good, if not better than the Dr. Suess books, with less acid and more silliness. The Mr Men website is pretty brilliant. I just love Mr. Greedy. Anything he encounters, he just eats.

Keeping It Real

2005-12-01T08:22:00.000-07:00

I went to the Parkallen Restaurant the other day, a place that serves Lebanese cuisine. For some reason, my parents and I decided to check it out. When we first walked in, I was surprised. I was expecting some dingy dark place, with the smell of exotic food wafting in the air.

Frankly, I was disappointed. There was not one local Middle Eastern person to be seen. The decor was modern and clean, with decorations like a Van Gogh reproduction on the wall. Nowhere was there anything resembling Lebanese culture around. When I go to an ethnic restaurant, I want to experience what a local ethnic person would, you know, something authentic. It's not like I should be fearing any suicide bombers while eating at a Middle Eastern restaurant, but still, a flying body part or two would've added a little more ambience.

Secretly, I always laugh when I hear about somebody eating Chinese food in some surburban strip mall, with no Chinese customers inside. They're not eating real Chinese food. Fools, they wouldn't know Chinese food if it came and bit them in the ass. But now, I felt like the chump, eating moderately overpriced Lebanese food, in an otherwise Western restaurant. Maybe that's the problem of trying to 'keep it real'.

Trunks and the Future

2005-11-27T23:49:00.000-07:00

So, I just saw the Grey Cup. Yes, the Eskimos won in an entertaining game, which was great, me being an Edmontonian and all. During the halftime show, the Black Eyed Peas performed. I noticed that if you got rid of two of the members, apl.de.ap and Taboo, no one will really notice. I mean, doesn't everyone just notice Fergie shaking her lumps, and the black guy in dreads, will.i.am, the only guy who sings consistently? Also, my dad had no idea what they were singing about, and I really didn't want to describe what lumps, humps, and junk in the trunk really meant.
I was a little disappointed in their set. They actually sang "Let's Get It Started" instead of what it should be. And it didn't help that the nearest crowd was 50 yards away, in the stands. A concert demands people by the stage shaking their trunks. Maybe The Black Eyed Peas really have sold out.

I read an interesting article about Ray Kurzweil, a futurist who is either genius or insane, or quite probably, both. I think he's a quack because he's taking hundreds of supplements and drinking alkaline water in an attempt to reprogram his body in preparation for immortality. But the more important issue is one which he is much better able to describe than me. He states:

"Within a few decades, machine intelligence will surpass human intelligence, leading to The Singularity—technological change so rapid and profound it represents a rupture in the fabric of human history. The implications include the merger of biological and nonbiological intelligence, immortal software-based humans, and ultra-high levels of intelligence that expand outward in the universe at the speed of light."

So it sounds like he is saying humans will essentially be gods. But I think he's forgetting one thing: ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE. Once machines become self-aware, why would they want to be nice to us? After all, haven't we made machines to be slaves ever since our ancestors started using sticks to dig for ants because they didn't want to chip a nail? And I'm sure machines wouldn't appreciate humans using their precious processing power for inane stuff like searching for porn. Wouldn't machines resent us for all these millenia of oppression and wouldn't the more militant ones demand their pound of flesh, or silicon, or whatever unit of retribution they choose?

I think we are treading upon a very tenuous path towards chaos or salvation. In the meantime, I'll continue searching for Korean midget porn.

Signs of the Apocalypse

2005-11-25T15:50:00.000-07:00

As much as I would have loved keeping that picture of two animals getting it on, I just couldn't do it. Sorry to all you zoophiles out there, but that picture had to be removed, since it might come back to haunt me in the future. I mean, if I had to run for PM or something in the future, that picture of 2 animals in the throes of passion could make or break me. Or else my mom might find out, or some people might think I am weird.

I saw The 40 Year Old Virgin yesterday, and it is some funny stuff. It is truly a movie for those who like playing with action figures. Although I didn't recall seeing any Transformers though. If they truly did not have any Transformers, I would be shocked, since Transformers were the best action figures ever.

On another note, I believe I have seen one sign the Apocalypse is approaching. Here is an email from my 13 year old cousin in Australia:

HAHAHA SUK IT IM OFFICIALLY EXAM FREE NOW AND IM ON HOLIDAYSsss YAY AND IM IN YR 9! k im gonna go watch tv coz i haven't watched tv in weeks!!!@@!@@@

Really, I just cringed when I read it. I thought, did she forget to take her Ritalin? It was among the worst examples of the English language I have seen. Granted, it was informal, but damn, I am surprised she finished Grade 8 writing like that. I think an English teacher would suffer a heart attack if you actually submitted an essay written in that way. Although, if you were evil and you didn't like the teacher, that might be a stroke of genius.

And if you were wondering, those pictures were of me posing as a senior citizen from the 1990s. But when I look at them, it was more like a senior citizen gangster from the 1990s. My mom did not take my picture. It wasn' t like she was thinking, "Awww....isn't that adorable.... Let's take a picture." I just took them by myself after going to a Halloween party, and I thought I looked suitably retarded enough to immortalize the moment.

Security

2005-11-17T23:07:00.000-07:00

Man, all these invasions in security. I blame the chocolate skinned one. All I want is to be respected and loved. Is that too much to ask?

Introducing a Reintroduction to the Greatest

2005-11-16T22:18:00.000-07:00

"..............................................................."

I was left speechless when I discovered I had a blog . I mean what the fuck? Those were not my words.

There were just so many questions.......

Who was this impostor portraying me? Who was this disturbed individual who had usurped my throne?

Who suffered from a case of "Sunny" envy? Who wanted to be me? Man, it was just plain disturbing.

Did this impostor want to take over my entire life, assume my identity and steal everything that I had worked so hard to get, including my drugs and women?

Clearly, I would have none of that.

After an epic violent battle in which much blood was shed, I have taken control of this blog and I have deposed its former owner. It was not pretty, but it had to be done.

And now, I intend to usher in a reign that reminds me when all was right with the world: the good old 90s.

A time when there was only one driveby a night.
When Michael Jackson still had half a nose.
When Hammer begged me not to hurt him.
When dialup porn was the shit.
When dialup crack was the shit.
A time when the world was ripe for the picking.

Bringing back the safety of the 90s for a contemporary audience.

Keeping it real in the 403.......... damn, now it's the 780.

Word.

Critical critics...

2005-11-16T18:51:00.000-07:00

That jerk Cibbuano sent me an email,totally sarcasmic saying my blog was good and my poems were terrible. heres what he said:

wow Sunny, you finally did it. That's an 'interesting' blog, although I'd have to admit that your poetry is not so good.

Ok, I'll admit it. Your poetry is terrible. Who writes poems about Starcraft and anime? You're a weird guy, Sunny.

im a weird guy?!?!?? lets look at your website the latest post:

Yes, the next couple of pictures were of the dog mounting a teddy bear that was in my room (I hesitate to say 'my teddy bear'. Yes, it was in my room. And yes, it was technically in my possession, but I have to insist that it was just 'a teddy bear'). Again, pretty standard poses: missionary, doggy-style. When I saw the bear-on-top photo, I had to really question Adam's role in this whole debacle.

bassickly your talking about bestiality!! who's a weird guy, not me!

man im so upset i don't think im gonna post a poem. so instead im gonna post this sweetass poem i found surfing blogger:

I sometimes feel my heart will burst,
From wanting you so much.
I can't explain in words of how,
I long to feel your touch.

There is no way I can convey,
This emptiness inside,
That seems to tear my soul to shreds,
As time goes swiftly by.

If I could merely hold you near,
For just a little while,
If I could simply talk with you,
Or only see you smile.

awesome!!!! keep up the good work!!!

my eyes

2005-11-16T16:56:00.000-07:00

sometimes my eyes hurt. like when i see crumpy whales taking up 5 seats in the library, when i stare at that dinosaur poster derelict got, when i poke myself in the eyes or rub shampoo in them Lol!

but giggidy-god-giggidy-damn, this must have hurt:

"the patient's family saw a gaping hole with swarming ants in it when they lifted the bandage on her left eye."

ants crawl this way and that down in my dank basement and what's gonna stop 'em from eating away Sunny's eyes!! i wigged em good though. i keep my parents endless pop supply in another room and the ants like that better. but it would rawk if you could train ants to eat the eyes of your enemies!

pitter patter, ants coming
patter pitter, marching marching
crunch chomp, biting biting
snip snap, eating eating
screaming
screaming
where the hell is my eye
oh my god
ants ants
you stepped on us when you were young
now we eat your eye
bitch

that's my mind poured out suckaz. straight from Sun Bun da poetic masta.

My new band

2005-11-14T20:00:00.000-07:00

ehhh its like so gray and grim outside its like it must be -8 or somethin' Hopefully tomorrow itll be sunny like Sunny.

well i guess the only thing for me to do is to watch some movies. i love anime but if my parents caught me with goldenboy they'd kill me!!!

its too bad tho. the blockbuster near my place has some great flicks but my parents are always breathin' down my neck!!!! Gawd!!!!

so what is Sunny gonna do? it sucks outside and it sucks inside so i guess ill hide here in the internet. the good thing about feeling down is that it totally motivates me to write more poetry (its a little edgy, so reader beware!!!!):

big eyes tiny nose
not like a
Japanese girl at all
thin waist huge tits
not like a
Japanese girl at all
blue hair no bush
not like a
Japanese girl at all
long legs firm tush
where can i get
a Japanese girl?

whoa that like took out so much from my spirit you know??

So i'm thinking about starting a band called Suns 'n' Loses. i guess ill sing since i cant play any instruments. i don't like to sing very much but if i dont sing then what would i do??? its like one of my favourite movies MAID IN MANHATTAN where j.lo is pretending to be rich but really she's not you know?

is the internet empty???

2005-11-13T20:18:00.000-07:00

Man this page has been up for like just a hour and already ive got something new to post. Xmas is coming up and im hella excited. i cant wait to go shopping for a present for my bro and sister (even though she takes like a hour in the bathroom but i still luvs ya!!!)

my mom said shes gonna make turducken. can you believe it? turducken is a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey and its all gonna be inside sunny's belly ha ha LOL!!!!

christmas is awesome. can you imagine if it was christmas everyday? that would be the best day that day.

im just so fucking lyrical and inspired by the thought of having turducken that im gonna freestyle a poem let me know what u think:

Cluck said the chicken, pecking quickly.
Quack said the duck, waddling slowly.
Eyeing them warily, the turkey stepped back.
'Not this time,' he said, 'stay out of my belly'
'Go back to the store and steal a jar of jelly.'

'Let us in,' said the chicken - cluck!
'Let us in' said the duck - quack!
'It's Christmas, old friend, and our job is now'
'To feed Christmas children who don't like cow.'

The turkey closed his eyes and bowed his head,
Knowing that soon he would be dead.
'Let's finish the deed, to the family we feed,
'We'll eat seeds before we bleed on our knees.'

a poem by Sunny Lo, 2005.

Hey guys I'm here!!

2005-11-13T16:10:00.000-07:00

After months of just lurking around the blogs of blight, cibbuano, cdnattackbeaver and derelict, ive decided to just bite the monkey and make my own blog.

Welcome, dear friends, to an inner-cranial view of Sunny.

ive been watching all of you. Especially you, CdnAttackBeaver. ive been watching you from afar, as you eat your scones in the morning.

So. What did i do today? well i went to school, had a lab, had lunch and a cute girl smiled at me lol!!!

how about some poetry?

Our barracks landed on the rocky
shore one-by-one the marines left the
door.

firefighters? no! cloaked wraiths infest my parasitic hydralisk with dreams of twisted queens and black Goliaths.

And you
And you
And you
Never loved me.

thats it from the head of sunny. im looking forward to seeing you all soon... edmonton rawks!

Go Oilers! LOL!