Billy Talent

   Unlike all other PG-13 punk memes from my youth, Billy Talent has not remained in my past. I like to think that my soul is forever bound to the soft punk band, because of how relevant they remain in my personal and social lives.
   I've been thinking about them a lot recently because they're touring and I legitimately tried to finagle free tickets via the magic of Twitter when they were in Montreal. Twitter did not respond magically however, and all I got was one favourite from a stranger. Any other day that would have been satisfactory, but when compared to a free ticket to see Billy Talent, one measly favourite is small beans. I know a guy who claimed to have VIP backstage passes and when he told me that, I knew the true meaning of jealousy and hatred. That's saying something because a number of love interests have left me for other girls in my life!
   Speaking of gentlemen, I have noticed a near-scientific spike in the frequency of a given guy talking to me after I have expressed my love for Billy Talent-- contrary to popular belief, talking about bands you've held onto since middle school is not the biggest cock block known to man!
   The admittance of my love for Billy Talent is probably as honest and genuine as I have ever been known to be. I can think of three guys off the top of my head who have said they want to take me to a Billy Talent concert, and I know I could remember more if you put a gun to my head. It's a slippery slope though, because while these guys may not have been serious, my expectations have been entirely sincere and the fact that I have never seen Billy Talent live remains one of the greatest disappointments of my entire life.

Tips For the World's Best Selfie

   I notice that a popular trend in blogging has been to give people tips on how to take the perfect selfie. I love trends, but even more, I love people and seeing them succeed! So I would like to add my two cents. Or three cents if I can! Ha! Ha! For all the fellas rolling old school out there, a selfie is a beautiful photograph that a person takes of him or herself. It's a cool thing to do and implies that you are an intelligent career-oriented person!
   1. Okay! First tip! You're going to want to make sure you're in the washroom when you take your selfie because a toilet is a really awesome prop. It boosts a picture, adding a sense of mystery- whats in there? We may never know!
   2. Some noobs make the mistake of looking into the camera when they take their selfies. For that perfect selfie, what you're gonna want to do is look into your own reflection of the mirror you're standing across from. That way you can keep an eye on yourself and make it look like there were interesting things transpiring as the picture was taken, that distracted you from actually looking into the lens.
   3. It helps if you have the exposed length of your forearm in the shot. Sex appeal.
   4. Always take the picture from above. ALWAYS. It is your best angle for sure. You want to elongate your forehead as much as possible. Anything five finger and above will get you at least twenty private Facebook messages from future boy/ girlfriends.
   5. Again, can't stress the bathroom enough.
   6. When you caption your photo, it's best if you do it with song lyrics. Preferably something that people will recognize, but not be able to understand in relation to the picture. Like a good Panic! At The Disco title. Or maybe an All American Rejects lyric. Anything to do with the rain is a safe bet.
   There you have it. Just six simple steps to literally having THE BEST selfie imaginable.

Has Technology Gone Too Far? I Just Wanna Know Who's on First.

   Remember how I wrote that enrapturing post about my job? Well I got a new job wherein (get this!) I sit at a desk and do the same task over and over again! A job is a job, I ain't hatin'.
   At my new job, I'm allowed to listen to music or whatever quietly and not on headphones and since I can't trust my iPod on shuffle (I have an unexpected amount of Odd Future and other things that middle-aged, racist women would not love to hear) that rules out music for me. I could download podcasts I guess, but all the podcasts I listen to are NSFW in some way of other. So I decided I could listen to baseball games. I like baseball a lot. The Toronto Blue Jays are supposed to do well this year. Also Brett Lawrie's got a cute butt.
   The issue I am encountering is that the ideal device for listening to baseball games is a radio and all I've got is an iPod that gets wifi. Okay, cool, just gotta get me a sweet sports app. I could probably do some research and get the appropriate stuff to listen to games. This is 2013! My fingertips are here!
   Problem though. I can't access the wifi at work. I assume this is a precaution taken by management to ensure that actual work is being done while people are "working". I find myself in a strange situation now where my technology is too advanced for my purposes. I just want a radio. Preferably something that was once a prize in a cereal box in the late 70's. Something with as few knobs as possible because, I am versed in Microsoft Excel, Outlook and Word however, I think a radio would give me difficulty.

William Butler Yeats ft. Sunglasses

   W.B Yeats was all like, "Irish revival? Get me my shades because we about to touch the sky."

Its 420 and Your Life's Still a Joke

Print off this brief questionnaire and circle the appropriate responses.

Are you thirteen? YES  NO

Did you make a Facebook status/ tweet about how pumped you were for 420 either today, yesterday or last week? YES  NO

Have you been counting down the days in some kind of organized fashion i.e calendar, alarms etc? YES  NO

Is this better than Christmas and/or Hanukah or whatever it is that you like to celebrate on your spare time? YES  NO

Did you make a Facebook status/ tweet while you were stoned? YES  NO

Did you take a picture of you and your bong? YES  NO

Did you actually attend a march with a political mandate? YES  NO

Or did you just hang out in that park near your house? YES  NO

Did you go check out those three for one President's Choice oven pizzas? YES  NO

Did you spend more than forty-five minutes in the grocery store at all? YES  NO

Your life is still a joke. YES

So I Saw Spring Breakers.

 Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
   I was thinking of ending the post after all that laughter, but I have too much to say about Spring Breakers to stop there.
   To postscript the laughter and preface the cinematic criticism you should know that I will tune in and watch anything on TV. Like, the worst of the worst, reality TV, you name it I admit to having watched at least three episodes (plus six more episodes that I would not admit to watching but definitely did). So, yeah, I watch a lot of shit. But Spring Breakers is not even Bachelor Pad bad. It's not even Rock of Love, or Rock of Love Bus bad. It's just plain bad.
   Luckily I went with a friend on a giftcard and I had a lot of M&M's to steady me throughout the movie. But I was shocked to learn, after leaving the theatre, that people are seriously considering this movie as a commentary on pop culture and race and feminism and all those big words that get you Oscar noms. Not that anybody is saying Gucci Mane is going to get nominated for Best Supporting Actor 2013 (yeah, Gucci Mane is casually in Spring Breakers. Take. it. in.)
   I've already sacrificed ninety-four minutes of my life to this movie, so I'm not going to do a lot of research on the entire career of Harmony Korine as a filmmaker. It's just not in my plans for the evening, sorry. I just wanna say though that just because you put butts and guns in a movie, does not make it a commentary on anything. This movie being a statement film is kind of like having a Double Gulp slushie and trying to pass it off as water because, hey, a percentage of it is ice which is water so... yeah.
   The only redeeming things about this movie are 1. When you realize Gucci Mane is Gucci Mane, and you excuse the fact that you literally cannot understand anything he says in the entire movie 2. When Selena Gomez or the other one says "All this money is making my pussy wet" and you spit M&M's everywhere because never was a less relatable thing ever said ever 3. When the only way to remain entertained after the first one second of the movie is to softly whisper "James Franco" after everything James "Alien" Franco says. And imagine him "showing up" to "teach classes" at Columbia.
   My theory is that you need to consume as much drugs and/or alcohol as the girls do in order to enjoy any aspect of Spring Breakers.

Snapchat

   Maybe I just live in a bubble, but does anyone actually use Snapchat to sext? Hear me out. I am aware the it's an app explicitly designed for sexting. The number of times I've heard it directly explained as such ensures that this is simply common knowledge, and I get that. However, every time someone explains it to someone who doesn't know what it is, the explanation is alway followed with a "but"; "but I just use it to send double chin pics to my friends", "but I just use it to take pics of me and my cat" etc.
   I know a ton of people with Snapchat, and none of them actually use it for its true purpose. It's like mouth-wash. Listerine was meant to be mouth wash. But homeless people and teenagers had different plans for it, and thats just nature's way. Snapchat is like that I think.

Adult Fun

   I was hanging out at a family friend's house recently because my mum was staying there while she was in town. I got there at around 11:30 in the nighttime because my mum's bus didn't get in until late. It was pretty far past my bedtime so I was not really participating in the conversation and ended up just observing the hilarious conversations of adorable adults. 

   I don't know if all adults are like this, but if so, I really hope to be one some day. Within moments of being in the kitchen my mother flew to the door (door leads onto an enclosed terrace). She proceeded to  shower our family friends with compliments the way one might do to the proud parents of a newborn babe. It wasn't just my dear sweet mama though. Our friends crowded round the door (with some difficulty, I might add, because the door was wedged between my seat and a counter), gingerly pointing out the delicate intricacies of the door. 

   It just looked like a door to me, but I guess you develop a more refined design palette with age and homeownership. I simply do not know about these things yet. I'm surprised my mum didn't cover my ears and whisper, "She's too young".

   Anyway, this door had some sort of extreme blinds built into it and all you had to do was press down on a thing and the blinds closed. It was almost sensual. Like dimming the lights. 

   I hope that when I'm an adult (if it ever happens) I will get similar satisfaction from a new door. To be real, I'm jealous because youthful kicks are getting exhausting. I want to see a door, be one hundred percent stimulated and then be in bed by seven pm. 

Top 5 Things I do at "Work"

   I work as a receptionist at one of the offices in my university. I literally do nothing. One time I taught someone how to use the photocopier. It was the most rewarding experience I've had in a while. My best moment in the office ever was when no one else was here one night, and I was feeling sick because I'd taken my coffee with cream like a goddamn idiot (I know I'm lactose intolerant, why do I try to play god?) and I unzipped my pants and lay on the floor of the photocopy room in the dark while my stomach rocked a symphony of grumbles. Here are the five things I do most regularly at work:

1. Look out the window which faces into the hall and watch people approach the office with a confused face and will them not to come in. Sometimes I actually mutter "no, no, no" under my breath until they are actually right infront of me speaking their words in my face.
2. Facebook.
3. Answer the phone and tell people that I don't have the authority to do whatever they are asking of me and tell them to call back when my supervisor is in the office.
4. Look into the fridge and see if any of my co-workers have grapes or some kind of food that I can take some of without them noticing.
5. Make personal photocopies. I'm pretty sure I have broken even with the cost of tuition in making so many photocopies.

The Delete Button is a Lie Always

   I am really excited for the general election of national leaders in about ten years. When I think of all the incriminating things that people do and how explicitly documented all of those things have become with recent technological advancements I think the tabloid industry is going to be the place to be in the upcoming decade.

   I know my friends have career-damaging photos of me. Lucky for me, prime minister is only my backup plan in case writing doesn't work out. For real though, there are going to be a lot more dick pics of the future presidents readily available for voters. Maybe that will be a good thing for some candidates, I don't know.

   I tend to think of the collective delete button of everything on the internet and computer-related as the mouth of this amorphous pit. I don't believe that anything is ever truly deleted from a computer or internet source. There are definitely dudes who travel through the chasm of computer slush in wetsuits retrieving incriminating photos and messages, just waiting to cash in on it. 

   They might not wear wetsuits, but they definitely exist. On one hand, the thought of this makes me want to pee my pants and retreat into Antarctica and eat nothing but snow for the rest of my life. But then I remember the silver lining in all of it: it's going to make such. good. TV. 

Poetry Readings (Woah There, Don't Get Too Excited)

   So I went to a magazine launch the other night which featured five readers, some did poetry and others read fiction. I feel like it's important to support my peers through attending such events, even though readings are not really my thing.
   Anyway, if you've ever been to a reading, you know there's certain etiquette. If you can help it, don't enter the room as someone is reading because it's loud and distracting and takes away from their moment. Also, don't talk on your cell phone. You wouldn't do it in a movie theatre, so don't do it at a live performance where everyone is mostly silent. That kind of stuff.
   But I had this weird moment where I went to the washroom at the start of someone's reading, effectively trapping myself in there until they were done because I feel like there is nothing ruder than flushing a toilet in the middle of someone's poetry. The reading was in a pretty small venue, and the washrooms were single person washrooms so I was concerned about the soundproofing. It was one of those "my awkward life" times when I left the washroom and there was a lineup, and people probably thought I had a bowel problem when really, I was just standing in there twiddling my thumbs and scrutinizing my hair in the mirror for ten minutes.
   It would appear that poetry reading etiquette does not coincide with bathroom etiquette.

Thoughts On Moving Across the World

   One of the best parts of moving to Glasgow is that I will feel closer to One Direction.

Dead Guys with Sunglasses

   Do you ever try to pursue serious activities on the internet, but then it just turns into MS painting sunglasses onto portraits of dead poets?

Alexander Pope? More like Alexander DOPE! Dude wrote an epic and he knew it was gonna rock. OWN IT GIRL.

About Dancing

   My dance moves are depressingly similar the movements that I make when I step into the shower and the water is too hot and I'm trying to turn down the hot water while putting the smallest percentage of my body under the offensive stream. We've all been there. Except I apparently like to revisit that when I'm pon de dancefloor.
   Maybe it's a muscle memory thing. I get pretty sweaty at the clubs, so its almost as if I've been in the shower. My body just automatically goes for that arms-half-raised-shifting-side-to-side-awkward-faced movement. Maybe I should make a music video that will hopefully take off, Soulja Boy style.
   Now I'm just Googleing pictures of Soulja Boy and let it be known that he is not bad looking, and were it not for the face tattoos and the pitiable rap career I would be awkward hot shower dancing in his general direction.

Slow Walkin'

   I feel like 90% of my youth is being spent waiting behind slow walkers. Hey girl, why you gotta rush, is something you might say to me. Stop and smell the roses, is something you would continue to say as an extension of your original thought. Jokes on you because I have never lived in an area where the air quality was even remotely good enough to grow roses.
   Maybe I would walk more leisurely if there were beauteous things to see, or even a new Starbucks to check out. But there aren't so I don't. In fact, I could potentially be putting myself in harm's way just by spending time outside downtown. Do you know about pigeons, the airborne poop machines? Anyone who is outside for more than twenty seconds in the downtown core is asking for it. Do I look like one of those chumps? No, I do not.
   Also, here in Canada we are experiencing a lovely winter this spring. I leave my apartment in a jean jacket, and by the time I'm coming home its snowing. The slowpokes best be getting out of my way because there is nothing mama hates more than being dressed inappropriately for the weather.
   For any or all of those reasons at any given time my internal dialogue consists of me shouting "while we're still young!!" at the person ahead of me. I don't care if you're a little old lady or just a dude who's wearing his pants too low- there is no place for slow walkers in or around campus!

What Does a "Kind Face" Look Like???

   In my program, I happen to read and write a lot of amateur fiction writing. It's awesome and I love it most of the time. You could even say it is one of my passions, although my cynical disposition does not lend itself well to being passionate about anything.
   Having read a variety of fiction and poetry over the year I feel the need to address this thing that writers do called Kind Face Syndrome. People will write stuff like, "Stewart had a kind face". I'm sorry, but I will pay someone money to give me a airtight definition of what that looks like. I don't think kind faces exist outside of poorly written fiction. I could see a kind voice maaaaybe. But even then it's like, get a better adjective, this is 2013 for god's sake!
   Kind faces have plagued my existence this year. I can't even think of an example of what I would imagine to be a kind face. Mother Teresa perhaps?

   I wouldn't even say that she looks particularly kind. I would say thats more of a tired face. Someone get that lady a soft cushion and an Us Weekly.

   Okay, so if not MT then who else? Anne Hathaway? She's pretty placid and complacent and she always seems kind in interviews. 

   Okay, admittedly I started writing this with the conceit that there is no such thing as a kind face, and at first I thought Ms. Anne had proven me wrong. Girl's got the closest thing I've ever seen to a kind face. But the more I started scrutinizing photos of Anne Hathaway's face (PS my browser history is going to be weird for the next person who uses this computer!), the more I realized it's just a face. In fact, she looks a little uncomfortable in a lot of pictures. In this one she looks especially perturbed. Also, what is she wearing??? Enough of this though, this is not another shit on Anne Hathaway piece, we move on! 

   Who even else is there in the world? And how could we possibly get more saccharine than Mother Teresa AND Anne Hathaway? What about a lil kitten, would that do it?

   Oh goodness, look at how precious! Look at its little feet! And its little pointy ears! See how it frolics! And its whiskers! Its! Whiskers! Yes, the kitten is far more adorable than Anne Hathaway and even Mother Teresa BUT does this kitten exude kindness from its furry little pores? Would this kitten lend me five dollars? Would this kitten give me free cocaine just because it wants me to have a fun night? Would this kitten give me its last tampon? I'm looking at its face and I just. can't. tell. 

   Okay, lets try one more for good luck. It seems that women and animals are out. But what about men? Whats that you say, all men are swine? Touché! Okay, lightning round, here we go: Joe Jonas. No! One step further, I say! All Jonases on deck! Triple threat! Show us the kind faces!

   No. Just, no.

   Alriiiight so I guess if you're looking for someone with a "kind face" you'll just have to picture Anne Hathaway from here on out. Sorry if I've ruined the creative illusion. But hey, there are worse things than Anne Hathaway, right... Right? Sorry, that was mean. I'll stop now.

PS Stay tuned for upcoming piece entitled "Things That Are Worse Than Anne Hathaway"

PPS I don't even dislike her that much I'm just a sheep! A sheep, I say! 

Sofa Shopping

   There is a special place in hell for people who force oppressed persons (like their children) to go sofa shopping with them. Maybe "hell" is too harsh, considering that I don't want my beloved parents to go to that place, but I think we can all agree that sofa shopping is some kind of cruel and nefarious punishment.
   When I was roughly fourteen my parents decided it was time for a new sofa. And they made me come with them. For two consecutive weekends. This might not sound that bad. Picture this: driving through Scarborough (raaaaatchet) in the unseasonably cold April weather, hitting up every Leon's imaginable (why are there so many out there? Only god knows) all under the guise of being a "family adventure". There is nothing adventurous about a brown pleather sofa. There is nothing family-oriented about it either. If anything, more families have been torn apart through the process of trying to acquire new living room sets than anything other leading cause of divorce and/ or estrangement.
   Over the course of those two weekends I learned more about human relationships than I have ever learned. Like if you're looking carefully enough, you can literally read on a person's face the precise moment they become totally fed up with something. Also, I'm pretty sure furniture stores are one of those few places on earth where people lose all social standards and will blatantly yell at people around them.
   For me, the weirdest part about being taken sofa shopping was that I had to go despite rarely being consulted and whenever I was actually asked for an opinion it was more a formality. Rightly so, as a very G-rated punk, what did I know about the benefits of suede versus imitation suede versus imitation imitation suede. Eventually I just started saying I liked everything and can we go now. There were no responses.
   The very worst part of it all was that after all this deliberation and field research, the prospective sofas just festered in my parents' brains until they came to some conclusion on their own that I was not a part of. Which would have been fine with me were it not for the thirty-six plus hours of my life that had already been sacrificed to the sofa shopping gods. For the record, I'm still waiting for those gods to send me something good.