I wish I had a floating lamb leg offering interjections as I speak all day long:
Para ducks
Time traveller captured on film? Calling home? The future? Her agent?
Spectre
I try not to write about work. It’s a slippery slope that can be twisted around and thrown back at you when you least expect it.
Case in point, the first job I had where I had to enter end of day numbers into a Apple Macintosh II (you can guess the year), I decided to write a friend a letter on the word processing program. In the letter I tore into the management style of my boss and then went on to say how much I hoped that my friend and I could bump uglies soon. Hit print. Nothing came out of the printer. Yeah you guessed it – straight to the management office. At the time I didn’t know much about computers and didn’t glean that the letter was going to their printer (after printing off 3 copies) but managed to change the printer, get it, send it off and forget about it. A few days later I had my review (bad attitude, lazy work, no raise) and there was my letter, on the top of my file. I left a few days after that.
Okay that had nothing to do with my point, I just thought it was funny. But many harmless posts via social medias have lead to termination or insubordination letters. You have to use your head when you write.
But I’m compelled to bend that rule today and just say there’s been a lot of closed door meetings with HR and the accounting department (HR + Accounting, usually = Severance pay). To say I’m concerned is a bit of an understatement: middle management such as myself are usually the juiciest apples on the tree for pruning. I won’t go into the “why” of this feeling I have, just that I’ve observed some behaviour by upper management that resembles a loud talker on a cell phone while riding a bus, suddenly dropping their voice 2 octaves. We all strain to hear what we’re missing.
SharkBoy told me of one of his incredible flame outs he had with a past employer (which I’ll let you beg him for a blog post for) which had me thinking: Have you ever been fired? Let go? If you left of bad terms did you grab two beers and hit the chute?
The Numbers Game
This just in! Breaking news from the city of Toronto. We now go to Amy, an ASL talking, Dead Robot Heavy Industries Political Correspondent. Amy?
Amy! Good Gorilla!
New big gorilla! Promise to stop eating Amy’s banana! Make banana go to smaller gorillas outside gorilla nest. Make choo choo train go through ground with no banana! But why Amy not get own banana? No worry, Amy! New deal! Get rid of most big gorillas and we only love new big Gorilla. But big gorilla break law. Big gorilla could murder someone on the steps of city hall and small outside gorillas still love. Amy think small outside gorillas are dumb.
Thank you Amy.
Couple points about last night’s vote:
While the numbers weren’t really that surprising, the speed at which they did come in, was. Thank god for algorithms that can calculate averages of political wins within 8 minutes of the polls shutting.
Twitter users are 90% liberal.
What was up with Hazel’s throat-dusty rant about “the media” when asked by CP24 if she was surprised she won again? Holy back off, grandma!
While commenting on Rob Ford’s weight is as equally unfair as commenting on Smitherman’s sexual preference, one is much funner to do than the other.
Smitherman’s speech was classy, yes. But that child needs some PR training. When Daddy says “Wave”, you better fucking wave, kid.
If you want a vision of Toronto for the next four years, see the fat fuck that cameras loved last night when Flounder won: air pumping to U2’s “Its a Beautiful Day”.
I said last night in my tweets that stand up comedians and political cartoonists will be rolling in the dough for the next while.
These certainly are interesting times.
Toronto Zombie Walk 2010
Yesterday SharkBoy and I ventured out to Trinity Bellwoods to see the running of the Zombies. After the launch by the lead exhibitionist from the band GWAR, we connected with Fortess and Jtree and their faithful dogstar, Penny and (dead) people watched for a while.
This year we didn’t dress up like we have in the past, and that felt weird. I can’t decide if I like being the one taking the photos or being taken. I do LOVE my new camera, though. Here are some good shots (Full set on Flickr here):
Until Next Year my undead minions!
Canadians Being Canadian About Canadian
Canadian Icon Gordon Pinsent reads Justin Bieber
Bumpy Ride
Subway, 8:04am. Front car. Somewhat crowded, not shoulder to shoulder, but getting there and I have my back against the driver’s cab wall when a man holding a coffee gets on and stands directly in front of me. He’s decided to keep an overstuffed knapsack well in place on his back in this crowded car – whatever. People should take them off in busy trains but I’ve given up riling against that stupid wall of stupidity long ago. His pack brushes against my iPhone a couple times so I hike it above the top of his bag and continue playing.
With every stop his knapsack bumps into my chest/stomach. Ugh. I have nowhere to go, either side of me has people. After the 5th bump I give the bag a gentle nudge forward. Enough to let him know it’s hitting me, not enough to be rude. He is holding coffee over the sitting people in front of him.
It continues for two more stations.
Without stopping my game or looking up from my screen, I push his bag hard to the right. No question as to why the sudden jolt. He whips around. I finally see that Mr Knapsack an adult (I was expecting a high school kid) and his eyes are angry.
“Your bag kept hitting me,” I say. My eyes focus and get decidedly more angrier than his. I’m in no mood for this shit.
“Sorry.”
He then stands perpendicular to me, sipping his coffee. His eyes light on my screen as I continue to play LUXOR on my iPhone.
I look up and lock eyes. He turns.
Yeah, that’s right, bitch.
RoboPop
The one in the middle is a bit off…
Twist And Shout
Priscilla, Queen of the Musicals
Full disclosure: I absolutely hate musicals that rely on pop music to tell a story. I hate how the writers and producers try to crowbar a song about political unrest in Ireland into a musical number about seducing a love-at-first-sight prostitute.
Moulin Rouge? Hated it. So hated it. It actually makes me mad thinking of how this turd of a movie was actually liked by any percentage of humanity.
Mamma Mia? Love the music, hate the show. Take my Gay card. Please.
Priscilla? When we sat in our 5th row seats (thank you SharkBoy!!), I opened the playbill and scanned the musical numbers and found not one original tune I thought “Kill me now.”
Well. I’m eating crow, it seems.
Last night’s performance of Priscilla was amazing. Yes it was fluff and unoriginal like any derived movie-to-musical but I can honestly say it was as much fun as watching the movie, if not better. The show hit all the great points of the movie; story, character and costumes, and did so in an inventive fresh way. I found myself engrossed in the story as if I was watching the movie for the first time. This was thanks to the cast: each member bringing enough familiarization that makes you connect to the movie, yet adding their own twists to their character to make it fun to rediscover. Most notably is Tony Sheldon, who plays Bernadette (Raaaalph!) completely right angles to Terrence Stamp’s creation. Sheldon’s Bernadette is more like a smart Lucile Ball, a wide eyed Carol Channing compared to Stamp’s subtle yet strong Bernadette. And it works – s/he creates magic with a nod, a glance, a well timed pause.
The show is full of risks, in the metaphorical and physical, and they succeed on every level. I won’t spoil one technical marvel, but I’ve never been that close to a woman’s stiletto heel before in my life. If you thought a falling chandelier was a captivating stage effect, a drag queen on a giant shoe on a bus will decimate that.
Go see it before it leaves Toronto. And I’m not saying this because I’m a homo. It’s just a damn fun show.