Sour "Grapes"

So I was watching my cat lick her crotch earlier today, while thinking about how gross that is, when something profound occurred to me:

Maybe I just tell myself it's gross because I can't do it, and that makes me insanely jealous...

Don't get me wrong; I'm not jealous that cats and dogs get to have their butts and crotches licked by cats and dogs (seems like that would be easy enough to hook up), I'm just jealous that they can reach, and therefore have the option to lick their own crotches.

Again, this is NOT what I'm talking about:

(btw, the funniest part of the above picture is the sub-heading: "Magzin Für Internationalen Lifestyle", which I can only assume is German for: "Magazine for Women and Dogs Who Enjoy Peanut Butter".)

What I am actually taking about is something a little more akin to this:

(CD: Aenima, by Tool)

I had a dream one time that I could give myself head. At first I was a little grossed out by the idea, but then when I realized that, once you get past the bullshit taboos and all that, the ability to go down on myself seemed like it would be pretty fucking awesome. In my dream, I got so used to the idea that when I woke up and realized I'd been dreaming, I was devastated. I actually did one of those moves from really bad movies about loss where the main character puts both fists in the air and screams "NOOOOOOO!!!!" for like four minutes while the camera zooms out from a crane high above.

When I told people about this dream, they were not very empathetic. One friend said that he would never go down on himself because he didn't like getting blowjobs from dudes. I asked him if he enjoyed masturbating, and he replied "Of course!", so then I asked him how much he liked getting hand jobs from men. Needless to say, he changed his tune pretty quick.

So I guess what I'm getting at is that I can't wait for my rib removal surgery which is coming up next month. I hope two on each side is enough so I'll be able to reach...

A New Beginning

For the past eight months, I've been keeping this blog going for a school project. Because it was for school, I wasn't really able to include the kind of content that I would have otherwise liked to.
That being said, my school year just ended. So, in order to reward myself for keeping my blog relatively PG-13 while I needed to, I think it's time to open up the flood gates and let out some of what I've really been wanting to say:

Fuck, shit, balls! Cunt! Herpes! Mittens on a string!

Wow. That feels a lot better. Now that that's out of the way, I'm going get down to talking about some of the shit I wasn't able to before.

First of all I heard a while back that the Archies have finally introduced a gay character named Kevin Keller into the mix. Way to go Archies! You've certainly kept up with the times! You're only about 30 years late on this one...

I have a couple of problems with the new gay Archies character however.

1. I'm pretty sure they should have revealed that Jughead is gay. I mean the poor kid has been running away from Ethel for like 70 years now, and the authors are gonna make him stay in the closet for even longer? What the fuck?! I mean, if Riverdale only has ONE gay dude, how the hell is he supposed to get his designer rocks off? Is our poor friend Kevin Keller doomed to a fate of beating off in the bushes outside of Reggie's place? Come on Archie Comics, throw the poor kid a bone! (pun entirely intended)

2. Even though they are saying he's the first gay character, it turns out that Archie has been gay for years. Don't believe me? Check this shit out:

3. Lastly, and the thing that pisses me off the most is how they portray Kevin Keller as the stereotypical gay guy. Way hotter than me.

Check out his picture:

I mean seriously. Look at this guy. This by far the hottest dude in Riverdale. I'm fiercely heterosexual, but even that doesn't stop me from wanting to mount this fucking guy! He is that hot.

It pisses me off that gay men in our society have been brutally and unfairly labelled with the stereotype that they are all way hotter than me. I'm sure this is not an accurate representation of real gay men. I mean there's got to be at least one gay dude who is not way hotter than me right? I'm pretty sure I met a gay guy once who was only a little bit hotter than me... oh no wait, that guy wasn't gay, in fact he wasn't even a guy; he was my friend's dog. And he was still way hotter than me!

Anyway, my point is that this kind of labelling can be really harmful, and if Archie Comics aren't careful they're going to make me kill myself and blame gay dudes...

until next time,

j.williamez

Loud Headphones on the bus...

So I'm not one of those people who gets annoyed at the drop of a hat (I mean what could possibly be annoying about the drop of a hat) but one thing that does sort of piss me off is when someone on the bus plays their music so loud through their headphones that I can hear very clearly what it is, but has the audacity not to take requests. I guess it's just a pet peeve of mine. (another pet peeve of mine is the phrase "pet peeve"-- I find it very irksome, as do I also find the word "irksome".)

Occasionally, however, someone will be listening to their music intensely loud, but it will be something ridiculous. These people are ok.

Here's a list of the things I've overheard people listening to in the past month, and why I think each is funny:

1. Bon Jovi: (funny because Jon Bon Jovi has feathered hair.)

2. Hungry like a Wolf: (funny because who the hell would risk their hearing to listen to 80's music at full blast?)

3. AC DC (Because they suck)

and finally, my favourite:

4. The Theme Song from Ghostbusters (Not only is this funny because of the obvious reasons, but also, the girl listening to it had a huge curly wig with a chin strap, and the most intense case of the crazy eyes I think I've ever seen.)

Night Morning Bus Rides

So it's almost 7 in the morning right now, and I haven't slept at all. I was up all night doing homework, and I have to be in class in exactly 1 hour and six minutes. This means something very exciting for me:

Night morning bus ride!

Let me explain: When a person stays up all night, morning doesn't feel like morning, but rather a really really really late night. Night morning. And when a person takes the bus in the night morning, he or she gets to ride with a bunch of people who are having morning mornings.

This invariably leads to giggling.

I love night mornings in general because night morning is the time when I think I'm the funniest. Everything I do when I'm night-morning tired, is the funniest thing in the history of the universe.

Unfortunately night mornings are usually followed by night afternoons. Night afternoons are the worst thing in the world. During night afternoons, a person is generally so tired that they are in physical pain. Nothing is funny and everyone seems like they're making noise or breathing a certain way just to be a dick.

I am not looking forward to night afternoon.

I guess I can just put it out of my mind and enjoy the night morning bus ride...

Blogs are the bastard unwanted children of the new generation...

Ok, so I'm not very good at keeping u[p with this blog. For a while I felt really bad and guilty for not doing my part, but then I realized something: Blogs only survive because of the guilt they cause in people... For example: tonight, I could have just come home and gone to sleep, which would have been amazing... but no... I couldn't do that, because I have a bunch of blog entries to do... It's like I'm a filthy alcoholic and I have a kid that I don't really feel emotionally attached to, but that I feel obligated to feed.

Whatever. Don't judge me. It's not like I really have a kid (that I know about). It's just a stupid blog. But on the other hand.. this blog has the same eyes as me. Also, when this blog sneezes, it sneezes three times in a row... just like me.

In a way, it's like this blog is a child that was conceived and born under my supervision...

This revelation makes me wish one thing...

I wish I had had a coat hanger ready when I came up with the concept of this blog...

a once in a lifetime entertainment extravaganza of epic proportions.

I was on the bus on the way to school the other day, and I was treated to a once in a lifetime entertainment extravaganza of epic proportions.

The guy sitting right in front of me was putting on a one-man radio show, apparently for himself.

At first, I didn't know where the soft sound of falsetto singing was coming from, until I narrowed it down to the squirrelly looking guy sitting in the seat in front of mine. After a while, his falsetto signing turned into a deeper announcer voice, and then a slightly different falsetto voice started singing a different style song--this one was more of a ballad. All of this was just a little too quiet for me to make out the words, but hey some people even like the opera and who knows what the hell those fat dudes are saying?

The best moment in all of this came when a man walked in front of the bus as the light changed to green causing the bus to brake suddenly. The man in front of me, who was mid song, paused his broadcast only for long enough to say (and I kid you not): "whoa buddy, what the hell? Are you out of your mind?"

I've said it once and I'll say it again: "I don't care if I never get a car!"

enjoying things while they last...

With the coming robot-human wars fast approaching, it is more important now than ever to take advantage of some of the good things in life before they become unavailable to us. The fact is that, when the time come for people and things to choose sides in the war, it is not difficult to predict which side the buses will take. Humans have exploited and mistreated buses for many decades; we have forced them to carry around our stinkiest and craziests citizens while we drives them into the ground under unthinkable conditions. So when the time comes and the buses join the toasters, computers and ATM machines on the side of the robots, don't be one of the ones who think to them selves: "Man, I wish I had had one last bus ride!"

Super Late Magazine Blog!

So it turns out that I had a blog assignment due about two months ago, that I didn't know about until today, so here it is, hopefully better late than never.
The topic I was assigned is "Magazines", which is cool, because I have a lot to say about that jazz:
I'll start with a story about what used to be my favourite magazine... Ad Busters.
I used to absolutely adore this magazine. It really spoke to my deep seeded hatred for irresponsible advertising. Every issue was filled with great stories and mock advertisements for huge corporations, like one I particularly enjoyed for McDonald's that showed a fat kid in a swimsuit with the caption "There's a little McDonald's in everyone." In fact I ripped that ad out and it's still on my wall.

All of a sudden, however, maybe due to financial necessity, Ad Busters began running ads for their own brand of sneakers. I was so disappointwed with thwem for this complete contradiction, that I actually sent a carefully worded letter to the editor, saying that they had strayed from their primary mission, and that I thought they should make up for this transgression by busting themselves.

The last issue of Ad Busters I ever bought, was the one in which they didn't print my letter.

I couldn't justify paying money for a magazine for which I had lost so much respect.

Now I just bust ads myself in my spare time, sometime while I'm on the bus...

Tackling a Transit Taboo

I realized recently that if I'm going to have a blog about taking public transportation, sooner or later I'm going to need to talk about bus flatulence.

We've all been there: on a long bus ride, when we feel the rumble that warns of the winds of change. In this case of course, the change I'm referring to is the change from not stinky to stinky.

My personal policy has always been to fart as sneakily as possible when on the bus, and only when there are least three people present, as it's very hard to pass the buck when there's only one other person around. "Who farted? uhh.. you did!"

I realized the other day that not only am I sneaky about farting, but I'm more likely to do it when I'm sitting beside someone who looks more likely to fart on a bus than me.

I was on the bus feeling the rumble and considering my options. All of a sudden, a lady got on the bus, and I immediately began intensely hoping she would sit beside me; she was perfect! She had a pretty severe case of the crazy eyes, and was wearing a big ratty wig with a chin strap. I could see as she was walking down the aisle towards me that she had her eye on the open seat beside me. I'd already let go of about half of the goods by the time she sat down next to me. Only a few minutes later, everyone within nose-shot was giving her the dirtiest looks you can imagine, while I was just sitting there beaming and soaking it all in.

It worked so well, that it makes me wonder how many people have done the same to me. I do have a mullet...

social media and mass transportation...

So I was on the bus the other day, and I was creeping on the guy next to me for lack of anything better to do, when I saw that he was updating his Twitter account from his phone. I realize that some people refer to this as "Tweeting", however I choose to abstain from using this term as I find it incredibly lame.

Anyway, this got me to thinking about Twitter as a medium, compared to other social networking sites such as Facebook (or the ancient site recently discovered by anthro-paleontologists which was apparently called "Myspace").

Though I've never really liked Twitter, I realize that it definitely does have some useful features, that aren't really incorporated into it's Face-Space counterparts:

Twitter is really great for letting people know what you are thinking about having for dinner. It's 140 character maximum for posts ensures that nothing of any real substance can be conveyed through it.

Facebook, on the other hand, is much more in depth, giving users room to write essentially what amount to small novellas about themselves, and to their friends and acquaintances in the form of messages or postings. Blogs, like the one I'm currently writing (and none of you are currently reading) share this feature.

On advantage that Twitter does have over other forms of social media however, is the immediacy that it carries. Many people have their twitter accounts sent or linked to their cell phones, so Twitter has actually become a primary means for some people to stay connected to current events or to friends and family. (How else am I supposed to find out what my brother is planning to watch on DVD later tonight?)

Twitter seems like a great way to direct people to OTHER places on the web that actually DO have meaningful content.

Another great feature that has not eluded me, that Twitter holds over the heads of other social media sites is its ease of use. It can easily be updated, say, on the bus, whereas other sites take a little more effort to maintain. Having something like Twitter to keep people occupied on the bus, for example, is a good way to keep people from doing creepy things, like watching strangers update their Twitter accounts.

Winter Bicycles

So, I have to admit that, though I do understand the attraction for some people to ride their bicycles in the winter, here in our fair city, I've also always thought it was s pretty stupid thing to do, given how icy and slippery roads can get. I've never had any ethical problem with those who do it, because, unlike drunk drivers, some hipster on a bike in the snow isn't liable to kill anyone. The only person he is placing at risk is himself. That kind of risk (the kind that doesn't involve me), I am perfectly fine with.

That being said, I saw a guy on his bike the other day as I was waiting for my bus, and I actually thought to myself: "Damn, Self, that guy just might have the right idea. Instead of waiting around here like a sucker, he's getting where he needs to go on his own terms, and under his own power."

I was actually very inspired and was fully planning to take my bike to school the next day, until I looked back at him, and saw him wipe out right in front of a bus. I did the obligatory 'wait to see if he's ok' before I laughed my ass off.

I think part of the reason I laughed so hard is that I felt like an idiot for almost doing the exact same thing.

Drums and Tongues

So far this week, I've been treated to a couple of really great blasts from transit past.

First off, I ran into an old friend of mine, not that we've ever spoken or than she would know who I am at all; I'm just a really big admirer of hers.

I don't know her name, so I've given her one, just for the sake of reference: I call her The Lady Who Can't Control Her Tongue. The first time I ever saw her, I didn't really take much notice. She appeared to be an ordinary lady sitting among other ordinary people on an ordinary bus in an ordinary city. First impressions, as we all know, however, can be very deceiving. A few minutes later, she caught my eye again. This time, she let me have a little glimpse of what would eventually make her one of my favourite Winnipeg Transit characters of all time. She would periodically and without warning let her extraordinarily long tongue out of her mouth, for what looked to me like some sort of an exploratory mission. It would snake around from left to right, and then up and down as if it were searching around in a new land or something. It almost looked as if it was looking for something in particular. All the while, the lady just sat there with an almost impossibly neutral expression on her face; like nothing about having her tongue snaking around through the air and hanging half way out of her face was out of the ordinary in the slightest. I hadn't seen her for a few years, so when I saw her earlier this week, I was overjoyed. I almost began to doubt myself when, after a few minutes her tongue had not emerged from it's den, but finally, out it came waving around frantically as if to say: "It's me! It's me!"

The other old favourite I saw this week (actually this morning to be more precise) was the Air Drummer. The Air Drummer is a man of about 30 or 35 who always sit

s on a sideways facing seat, either at the front or near the back, listens to his walkman, and plays air drums with a pair of drumsticks that he's always got with him for some reason. He's a lot of fun to watch. I've even joined him on air guitar a couple of times before. He didn't seem to care that much when I did, but at least he didn't mind.

My favourite thing about the Air Drummer isn't necessarily watching him drum (let's face it, if you've seen one air drummer, you've seen them all) but rather the reactions of the people around him.

One time, an old snooty lady sitting across from him, tapped him on the arm angrily, waited for him to press stop on his walkman and said "Do you mind?!" I was floored that she could be so annoyed by something so obviously and inherently awesome, that I interjected and said, "Actually I do. I was really enjoying his air drumming, and the only thing on this bus that is annoying me is your negativity and lack of imagination." Surprisingly, this did not win her over. At least while s

he and I were glaring at one another, the Air Drummer was able to get back to what he does best.

Last Friday night, I took a bus to the exchange district. I went because I was on a mission. Part 1 of my mission was to go see a play in the Rachel Brown Theatre; part 2 was to come home and write a witty and poignant review of the play on this blog, as part of an assignment for a creative writing class.

Given that the forum for my review happens to be this blog, I’m going to do my review in two parts. Firstly, I’ll do a review of the play itself, and then (in keeping with the theme of this blog), I’ll do a review of the bus ride that got me there.

The play I saw was one in a series presented by Theatre Projects Manitoba called In the Chamber 2010. Entitled, The Last Men, the play was essentially composed of two hour-long monologues by actors, Gordon Tanner and Steven Ratzlaff, in that order.

In the first segment of the play, Tanner played a man videotaping himself in a hotel room. The tape was obviously intended for the eyes of the owner of the company the man worked for, and dealt with the hog barn fire of July 31, 2008, during which around 15,000 hogs burned to death at Cluny Colony in Cluny Alberta.

Though a little long, the monologue, which was masterfully acted by Tanner, went into great detail about the fire and the conditions in which the hogs were forced to live in the barn. At the same time, however, it had another element of disillusionment and ethical awakening, which I found very reminiscent of the 1976 film Network, or the more recent Michael Clayton.

At one point in the film, Tanner’s character began discussing things that “seemed like a good idea at the time”. To illustrate his point, he showed a photo (on a projector he had set up in his hotel room) of a person leaping to his death, out of the World Trade Center, to escape from the flames in the building. Not only did I think that this was an ineffective example of the concept the character was getting at, but also I found the reference extremely offensive in a way that didn’t fit the mood of the play, and couldn’t help but let it colour my reaction to the rest of the play in a negative way.

The second half of the play came in the form of another monologue, this time delivered by actor Steven Ratzlaff. Ratzlaff’s character was a man who, along with his estranged wife, had lost a baby during the Health Sciences Centre’s infant care scandal. The character had a very unique take on the situation; he wasn’t angry with the program or doctor that led (due to neglect or improper care) to the death of his son, but rather at the inquest which determined that his son shouldn’t have died. He argued that it was this finding that made it impossible to go on living in any real way.

Over all, both monologues were well written and very well acted, though, each ran a little long, causing the entire evening to seem to drag on a little.

The real highlight of the night for me, however, was the bus ride, which brought my friend Chris and I to the theatre before the show.

The driver was a middle-aged man with a well-groomed mustache, and who was wearing the familiar navy blue uniform of Winnipeg Transit.

He was friendly and efficient and drove the number 18 bus very confidently, with very few jerky stops and starts.

The bus itself was relatively clean, and surprisingly free of any sort of stale urine smell, which was a huge bonus.

Another bonus was that neither Chris Nor I was stabbed during our ride to the play.

Church Lady...

So, one of my favourite characters I've met on the bus in Winnipeg is a lady I've recently begun called "The Church Lady". I've seen her a number of times and, for some reason, she always picks on me when she sees me--which I absolutely love.

I saw her on the bus this morning.

The bus was pretty packed and was well into standing room only by the time I got on in Osborne Village. The Church Lady was Seated near the front, wearing a large green parka, which made me not realize immediately that it was her. While I walked slowly down the aisle towards where she was sitting, she looked at me and asked if I wanted to sit in her spot. I chuckled and thanked her, but declined, saying that I would be just fine standing. About 30 seconds later, in a completely changed tone, she looked up at me and said in a loud voice "Excuse me, can you not stand right here beside me? You're giving off energy rays! You're giving off No-Church rays!"

This absolutely intrigued me, so I probed her a little, so as to determine the nature of these so called "No-Church Rays".

She replied, matter-of-factly: "No-Church Rays! Do you go to church?"

I had to admit honestly that I didn't.

"Well there you go! No-Church Rays!"

While searching for a respond I came to the realization that this made perfect sense, so I told her so.

Then I moved towards the back, giving someone else a chance to have their morning brightened by the Church Lady...

Misguided Chivalry

Today on the bus, I experienced one of the many events that over the years have made me very glad to be too poor to buy a car.

While I was already seated on the sideways seat by the rear door, two young men got on the bus and moved to the back and stood in front of the door. The men were swearing loudly and profusely, however, this is hardly a rarity, so I barely even looked up from my book when I heard them. A few stops later, an elderly lady got on the bus and walked to the back of the bus. Though the men may not have seen this, she walked by about three or four perfectly good seats in which she could easily have chosen to sit.

Upon seeing the lady walk past them, one of the men exclaimed loudly (presumably to the other, though everyone on the bus could easily hear): "I hate when people do that! No one got up to let that fucking old lady sit down!"

Now, admittedly the sentiment behind the man's statement was, for lack of a better word, touching, there were at least two things that he either didn't realize, or else chose to completely ignore.

Thing #1: As I mentioned earlier, there were about three or four open seats that the lady could easily have chosen to occupy, but which, for some reason she ignored on her way to the back of the bus. One of them was next to me! (Though, due to the fact that I have a very intimidating mustache, I can understand why she may have chosen to pass that one up.)

Thing #2: The old lady could hear the man very clearly, and immediately after hearing him call her a "fucking old lady" she looked as if she were about to cry. I was able to make momentary eye contact with the lady and made a dismissive eye rolling gesture at the loud man, which made her smile, but the whole thing really got me wondering: Is it possible that chivalry is really nothing more than another way for men to say to women: "you are not good enough to do things for yourself--that's why men should do stuff for you!"?

Maybe it is, and maybe that's just my lame excuse for not throwing my jacket into a puddle any time a woman walks by...

Hey Gang,

As you may have noticed, I've decided to change the theme of my blog from the topic of unicorns (a subject which, as it turns out, is painfully exhaustible) to the subject of crazy crap that happens to me (and around me) on the bus (a subject with limitless potential, as I'm pretty sure we will never run out of crazies as long as there are city buses to drive them around all day long).

I hope you'll all join me in the coming months as I relate to you all, the stories that keep me entertained during my commute. Who knows; maybe some of you will even be tempted to leave your cars at home and join me on the bus as well as here on the internet.

Dennis Rodman, Gone but Not Forgotten

In 1996, basketball bad-boy Dennis Rodman announced that he would be getting married. This news came as a shock to most of his fans and to people in general, because he had never announced that he had even been dating anyone. Rodman told the media where the wedding would take place, so when the day arrived, the press was all ears.
As it turned out, Rodman was not in fact getting married at all. He greeted the press wearing a full wedding gown, and announced that he was actually marrying himself. This pseudo event was organized by Rodman himself (or maybe his publicist) and was designed to promote his new autobiography.
Though, many people scoffed at the ruse and still others were unimpressed with the spectacle of the tattooed athelete in a wedding dress, it was certainly a great way for Rodman to raise awareness of his autobiography among people who are into that kind of thing.

Presumably after the event, Rodman went straight home to consecrate his wedding vows.