This Should Explain a Little

So -- while I am a dude who likes ladies, I must admit, I'm not sure if I have a 'type' of lady that is my go-to archetype for attractiveness. I don't tend to get too worked up over blonde/brunette/redhead, and I'm relatively nonchalant about any particular height or weight numbers. I mean, granted, I definitely find certain women more attractive than others, but they might not necessarily look the same, you know?

And then, there's this, probably the best example I can come up with. If somebody asked me what I thought of Zooey Deschanel, I would likely respond with, "Mmm. Yes please." Then, if that same hypothetical somebody asked me if I found Katy Perry attractive, I would probably say something like, "Meh, I dunno, she's not really my thing."

Erm.

I mean, obviously, right?

(h/t eject)

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Stephen Fry

"Who do you feel more sorry for? Who do you actually want to hug? The person you happen to know has a tumour, and is just getting through life not talking about it, smiling, trying not to embarrass anybody about it; or the kind of person who’s always going, “My leg, that went there, and then I had this pain here and the doctor didn’t know what to do about it, and I get these flashes --” Oh, Christ, I’m sure it’s terrible for you dear, but shut up! Now – of course we do our best and we feel sorry for all kinds of people and we, you know, show sympathy, but – the real heroism of people who quietly get on with their lives and think of others should be rewarded, and usually is by the fact that they are liked. And if you’re liked, people want to be with you, and if people want to be with you they share opportunities with you, and you observe the way they do things, and your life can open up, and there are opportunities everywhere."

"I suppose the thing I most would liked to have known, or been reassured about, is that in the world, what counts more than talent, what counts more than energy or concentration or commitment or anything else is kindness. The more in the world you encounter kindness -- and cheerfulness, which is its kind of amiable uncle or aunt – the more, just the better the world always is. And all the big words – virtue, justice, truth – are dwarfed by the greatness of kindness."

More meandering insight to be found here, or here.  (h/t No Sign At All)

Sadly, the beast needs more torque

Well, on a sad note, Maury Chaykin has passed away. It was his 61st birthday today -- which, strangely, makes him exactly the same age as my mother. (She, thankfully, is in the pink of health, and yes, I did call her with birthday wishes long before I contemplated this blog post.) It also means that he is the second instrumental cog of the Whale Music movie to have shuffled off this mortal coil this year, as Paul Quarrington died in January. They both seem way too young to go, and all I can say is that I hope Dave Bidini is taking his vitamins.


Rest in peace, gentlemen.

 "The music ends, that is to say, it disappears forever to journey in the cosmos."

Wave of Decrepitude

Well -- I gotta say, I have no idea what you do for a living, and neither do I have any idea what hobbies you enjoy in your spare time. Maybe you're a nurse, or a cut-man in a boxer's corner. Maybe you enjoy dumpster diving at the hospital, or perhaps you're a groupie with an odd assortment of souvenirs gleaned from your personal associations with rock stars. What I'm getting at is, I have no idea how many plaster casts you see in an average day, but as for me, I could probably go a good six months without seeing a single one -- and even then, I couldn't guarantee you that seeing that single plaster cast would make a big enough impression that I'd even vaguely remember it the next day. So, yesterday was a little odd -- I saw:

• one plaster cast on a broken wrist on a customer in a Subway at Vic Park and Danforth at about 4 in the afternoon;
• one on the arm of the driver in a car next to me on the 401;
• one on the arm of  patron outside a gas station convenience store just outside of Belleville;
• and yet one more on the arm of the clerk at the Burger King counter in Belleville at about 10:30 at night.

So, what I'm gathering from that (besides the fact that I eat juu-u-ust a little too much fast food), is that the average South Ontarian suddenly needs a whole lot more calcium in their diet. Weird.

If I was on Twitter, this post wouldn't exist

Just to let you know -- I have a feeling that the next time I get drunk, I'm gonna try to make out with you.

You've been warned.

Oooh, watch out for sunburn

So, I don't know what this says about me, but apparently I have become your official source of news when it comes to events promising randomly harmless nekkidity. Thanks to NOW Magazine's calendar of upcoming events, I am possessed of the knowledge that Saturday June 12th is World Naked Bike Ride Day, and now, you know it too. I felt compelled to check their website, and I think my favourite part is when they say, "the Crown has acknowledged that participating in an orderly event naked is not illegal, so long as you are wearing something, such as shoes."  Seriously? Shoes are the limiting factor in how naked you are? Man, was I playing doctor wrong. It reminds me of years ago, when I was trying to figure out exactly what kind of documentation you needed to cross the border into the states, and I discovered that it was forbidden to transport a switchblade knife internationally, unless of course you only had one arm, in which case you were good to go.

I'm out of town for the next couple of days, and it's entirely likely I won't be back in the city on Saturday at all -- but if anybody was to make plans that just happened to involve being, oh, say, on a patio on Queen Street or a table in Dundas Square early Saturday afternoon, keep me posted. Of all the spectacles I should see before I die, 100 or so naked people on bikes is probably on the list.

Good things come to those who... mystify?

So, I realize it took a fairly long time for this little nugget to penetrate my consciousness -- but it just dawned on me that within a week or two, no matter what happens, either Ron Artest or Nate Robinson will be a bona fide NBA Champion.

Somewhere, Ricky Davis is reminding everyone who will listen, "I used to be a Celtic too, you know."