The Four Horsepeople of the Ablogolypse

happy feat...

2007-08-22T20:00:00.000-04:00

I am poor at keeping this space updated, but I have another new niece! Hannah was born to my sister Amanda and her husband Paul, 5 days after my other niece.

She is awesome and hilarious and still trying to figure out how her face works (as evidenced in the photo - she's not actually crying).

The other thing I wanted to put out there is that I live on the top floor of a 29 storey building. I just came back from a run and I managed to climb every single stair up to my apartment. .... Thought it deserved a mention, though it's nowhere close to the accomplishment of having a baby!

Cas

aunts go marching...

2007-08-10T19:57:00.000-04:00

I have a niece! Me, and my 4 other sisters are all officially aunts. Finally!

Coming from such a large family, and being one of the youngest, I thought being the cool, young, hip aunt was a done deal. I figured I would start my reign at the top at 17 or 18, max....as it turns out...Not so much.

At first I felt dismay, followed by desperation, then resignation, that I had less and less hope of being the cool, young aunt I always wanted to be. However, last Christmas both my brother and his wife, and my sister and her husband announced impending August due dates within a week of each other! Lo and Behold, after much shower-throwing, tiny outfit buying, and belly rubbing, the first of the two - Addison Ward - arrived on Tuesday afternoon!

Two of my sisters and I were lucky enough to go to Hamilton with my parents and see Addison at just a few hours old...I have to admit my bias, but I think she's pretty cute!
Now, I am headed home for the weekend - hopeful for the arrival of the second surprise...looking forward to "he" or "she" instead of "it".

I feel this double blessing - this beautiful familial expansion - can only be some sort of concession to the fact that I am not as young, cool, or hip an aunt as I anticipated I would be...but c'mon - "favourite" is still in the bag :)

Cas

for dummies...

2007-06-28T21:32:00.001-04:00

Today on the subway home from work, I saw a man reading a book.

This in and of itself is no big shocker. Many people read many books on the subway to and from work - it helps them from having to stare around awkwardly at the other people, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. Even more so, during rush hour, it keeps those people smart enough to bury their nose in a book from burying their nose in someone's armpit or even worse (depending on whether they are sitting or standing.)

What struck me as particularly interesting was the book that the man I saw, was reading. It was one of those "...For Dummies" volumes, and I was caught off-guard at how millennial and specific said books are getting. He was reading: "Online Identity Theft Prevention For Dummies."

It made me wonder just how ridiculous these books are on their way to becoming. Not to say they aren't helpful for the Average Joe or Jody (whom I consider myself to be in a plethora of areas), or that preventing oneself from online identity theft isn't a valid precaution in today's wired world... but how far are we from trying to write books helping people do things that "dummies" really shouldn't be attempting?

"Space Exploration For Dummies"

"Building Your Own Rocket-Car For Dummies"

"The Dummy's Guide to Nuclear Physics"

I'm interested to know what kinds of crazy 'Dummy' books you've seen, or what other kinds of crazy titles you think we're headed towards....

Thoughts?

Cas

Creative License

2007-06-13T17:40:00.000-04:00

The other day I mentioned that it was recently my birthday. Kudos to my little brother for finally getting on the well-wishes train, or so it may seem. Here is a homemade card I found lying on my pillow when I arrived home last weekend.

SAD DEATHDAY (with a picture of a tombstone)

Luke,

Have a terrible time w/ this take.
You're forgiven for this card being too early.

Hate,

Matt

PS. if you couldn't tell, this card was in code.
A little code I call opposites. Dare you to decipher it.

PSS. I was inspired b/c all I had was a black marker.
Figure it out. Creative eh?

My favourite part might be "A little code I call opposites." or his accidental spelling of PSS instead of PPS. This was followed by a later phone conversation, in which I thanked the scribe. It went a little something like this...

Me: Hey Luke, thanks for the card. I thought it was hilarious.

Luke: No problem, did you get it?

Me: Yes, it wasn't too tough.

Luke: Did Mom tell you how?

Me: No, I got it on my own.

Luke: Oh, well I needed to explain it to her. She didn't get it at all. Did you get that "take" meant "gift"?

Me: Yep, totally.

Luke: Oh... well pretty good eh?

I can't believe the high Binnington comedy, including so many family members. Thanks Luker.

What a guy, What... a... guy.

The (Still) Funnier Older Brother

the evolution of grocery haute couture...

2007-06-11T10:38:00.000-04:00

This morning on my way to work, I noticed something. It came to my attention as I was sitting on the platform of track 1, waiting to catch the GO train that would sweep me back into the city after a wonderful weekend away.

No one carries anything to work/school in grocery bags anymore.

When I was young and 'too cool for school' as they say, I wouldn't take my lunch or gym shoes to school in anything less than a backpack/lunchbag combo. Bringing lunch in a plastic bag was asking to be relegated to the grouping of desks with the other Untouchables in the classroom caste system. I wasn't Miss Popularity by any stretch of the imagination, but I wasn't about to lose that rung, somewhere in the middle of the social ladder, that I clung to...anywhere but down!

When highschool hit, almost without warning, lunchbags were out. A lunchbag signified everything that was inconsequential and juvenile in the world, and we were soooo much more than that. In acts of Avril-like rebellion we all embraced the grocery bag en masse, to signal our individuality - yes, the logic works like that. All of a sudden your turkey-on-rye and grannysmiths were being thrown around and manhandled inside the unpadded confines of the latest offerings from IGA, A&P, or Loblaws. "I sooooooo don't care what my food goes in, like, I just end up eating it anyway!"

University ushered in the age of the caf and other such waistline-expanding on-campus eateries. Grocery bags served primarily to schlep those extra few items you couldn't cram into your backpack at John's Deli back to your lopsided student house. After fulfilling this purpose, they were good for empties, trashcan liners, and tying up the tupperware you had to throw out b/c you couldn't remember what was in it anymore.

Now, in the working world, people have come full circle. Everyone has reverted to seventh grade, with richer taste. Instead of paper, canvas or (if you were lucky) some sort of Thermocool number, everyone is toting labels. At first glance this morning, it was just one man walking by with his briefcase and an Armani Exchange logo with handles swinging by his side....then a woman with a bag from Davids, and when I looked around it was almost everyone. On the train, in the subway, at the lights, everywhere I looked there were men and women with company names flying freely from elbows and hands; slung over shoulders and clipped to other bags.

This is the age at which carrying grocery bags becomes uncool all over again. People are watching to see where you'll put the spillover from your briefcase or purse. On one hand, I can see why people make the switch: the plastic is translucent at times; it's malleable and there is no hiding whatever it is you've got inside. Your secrets jab out at awkward angles. Whatever structure there is is lost when things get too heavy, and sometimes you need more than one to do the job....

...but on second thought, more so than wishing everyone luck in finding the right label to match their self-consciousness, I hope that we all become a little bit more like grocery-bag people...I have a feeling it would make carrying a lot of life's loads a little easier....

Cas

Our Bicentennial, and Thoughts About Grilled Cheese

2007-06-01T17:46:00.001-04:00

Welcome to the Fiftieth Post for the first time ever in the history of this website and these two, ahem four, people. I only realized that the paragraph I had planned turns out to be an anniversary of sorts... I don't know what to do to celebrate. For my grandparents' Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary someone hired a professional human karaoke person (who knew that they exist?), and I don't imagine I'll ever experience belting out popular sixties tunes with several different generations of people again. On that note, I don't think singing and dancing wildly to Ain't She Sweet would be an appropriate reaction to fifty instances of online writing, nor expounding publicly on the value placed on love and commitment by Noreen and Melville. (By accident, and only through the great gift of editing did I discover this, I had originally written exposing instead of expounding in that last sentence, that would have been an interesting family get together to say the least.)

I'll just write about what I originally intended...

I made grilled cheese today and pondered briefly on the fundamental ingredient missing in its title. I mean, the uninformed might be easily tricked into thinking grilled cheese was just cheese thrown on a grill for a little while to simmer, an understandable mistake. Only with the addition of two slices of bread does the product become one of the most delicious items known to man. Grilled cheese sandwich" or better yet "Cheese Between Two Slices of Bread and then Grilled" should now be the only means of describing this meal. I mean we don't ever call a pop tart toasted chocolate do we?

Do We...?

Matt

I Am One Year Closer to Death...

2007-05-30T19:21:00.000-04:00

Hello out there, this lovely title is what my coworker proudly told me when he learned that I shared his womb-emergence day of May 30. Coming from a handlebar moustache sporting, lambchop sideburning, long curly hair wearing, hair metal rocking, drum playing, banger-mullet-loving, still in the 80s living, hilarious guy I can handle that. He hasn't really grown up much so I guess that means I don't have to either. Paul, I'm proud to share my day of birth with you, keep on rocking the free world.

Another person that causes me to periodically laugh out loud is my younger brother Luke. A perfect example of this was his strange behaviour last week following a friend's wedding. He loudly stated for anyone to hear that he really wanted to get married also, but I think this was only considering the potential for a huge party and not considering the tremendous amount of commitment afterwards. This coming from a kid who has past said that being in a relationship to him is the equivalent of being doomed; he didn't elaborate on this point and my lady, who was right there, took exception with a perfectly timed diss, joking of course. He also continued the previous night's reception festivities by taking them to the shower where he belted out several marriage tunes by the likes of Elton John, Kelly Clarkson, and Sam Cooke. However, not being able to remember all the words he printed off lyrics and stuck them to the walls of the shower using moisture. He was in the shower for a twenty five minute concert. You may be privileged enough soon to spot his writing on this very page, come the new school year.

Finally, a third person that makes me laugh is the both insightful and ridiculous Garry, aka Birddog. His blog has been added to the list on the right, which I've meaning to do for awhile but COINCIDENTALLY waited until he gave me some mad props. I promise.

Matt Out

Helping Put the Romance Back Into Looking at Animals

2007-05-25T14:43:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine recently went on a date of sorts to the Toronto Zoo, this caused me to think of how said date would have gone and where a trip to the zoo would score on the Potential Female Swoon Due to Unexpected Romance scale. A guess would be about 6.3 with possibility of decrease if it was hot and some of the exhibits stunk of poop.

Where many would have stopped pondering a zoo date I continued to wonder what the must see date exhibits were, where you just had to take someone if they were at the very least willing enough to be seen in public with you. Here is a short list, which may be wrong because I know very little about animals and also haven't been to the zoo in ages... methinks it's time to take my girl on an outing...

the classic elephant ride, although I have a feeling the zoo wouldn't let you ride their pachyderms, and this exhibit is notorious for faint-inducing stench.
I recently read a story about a hippo that was orphaned in the tsunami a couple years ago and was adopted by a tortoise. Now if these pictures aren't cute enough to cause someone to want to kiss you, you're in trouble. The one caveat being I don't think this has ever happened at the Toronto Zoo, and I'm not sure if either hippos or turtles are cute enough on their own, but one could try.
I've always thought that monkeys are neat, unless they're like the one from Outbreak.
I would totally hold hands while gawking at the polar bears
the nocturnal animal exhibit is kind of humid and pretty dark inside so one could sneakily grab a kiss without anyone noticing. I suggest by the echidna, just don't step on it.
Finally I'm willing to say that regardless of the person you're with, the palace of the penguins is always a home run. You can take that to the bank.

Happy Romantic Adventure!

Matt the Smooth Operator

home...

2007-05-19T08:32:00.000-04:00

Sit up and take notice, fans - I am back.

I apologize profusely for my decidedly lengthy vacation from blogging. What can I say? I'm terrible.

I've had a lot of time to think, ponder, muse and muddle over a few things since I last put finger-to-keyboard. I've left my nest in Kingston, and am attempting to make a home for myself in the big city here in T.O. I've got to say, it's been a little more difficult than I anticipated.

I always thought I was this fiercely independent secret-loner type. I thought that I would relish my own space and agenda, without many other people to take into consideration. I thought I wanted the luxury of anonymity that a large city offered; the ability to disappear and just observe people, and be cozy inside my own head with my thoughts. Turns out, I am not as much that person as I figured.

Since moving away from Kingston and not going back to my parents house for the first summer ever, I have come to realize that I value a support network more than I could have imagined. When I moved here, I didn't know the city as more than a bunch of dislocated attractions and places I had been to before. I had met one of my housemates once, and didn't even know the name of the other. Turns out that they are both awesome people, but they don't know me. Turns out that that is something pretty important to me as well: to know and be known.
I have these moments where I feel awesome and quintessentially Torontonian: checking out a new coffee shop, riding the subway and not having to sneak glances a the map over the doors, or going for a run after work and navigating the pedestrians on Yonge St. These moments, and the friends that I have seen, as well as the fact that I am working for family, have been holding me together. It's not to say that I think that developing a sense of community and family and transparency here in the city is impossible, but I know that it will take time...I want to appreciate all of the advantages that living here has to offer, but what I have come to appreciate primarily is how much the idea of 'home' is tied to the people I know and love...

I want to travel, and I want to explore and continue to discover things about myself and this incredible, creative world, but I am pretty sure that I would like some company in doing so. I would like someone to talk to, vent frustrations to, and share the excitement with...someone that appreciates the pieces of my paradoxical personality, and knows when to give me that delicious time alone...

When I was little, I grew up at the other end of Yonge St., on highway 11 in Northwestern Ontario. I wanted to stay with my mom and family forever, and have my own family in that small town. What I couldn't put into words before was how much that network means to me, and though I am glad to have moved on from that end of the province and that stage of my life, now that I am neighbours with my old self, it turns out we aren't as different as I would have expected.

C

Stop... Die... Recussitate!

2007-05-02T19:15:00.000-04:00

Welcome to a Stream of Conciousness to once again begin blogging as a serious part of my weekly routine. I don't know what happened before, but I have been doing some other writing as well as schoolwork, and plotting the end of the Ottawa Senators playoff run. I think that the plot of previous Pro Line commercials would work. Having the team owner force them to wear vintage equipment, squishing all the players on the bench with the collapse of the glass behind the boards, and a malfunctioning T-Shirt gun could cause quite a stir. I would aim for Daniel Alfredsson's face with a Carolina Hurricanes 2006 Stanley Cup Champions T-shirt while it was pinned by the collapsed glass, it would hopefully cause some pain without the long term stigma attached to permanent disfigurement. In order to continue the blog theme of Senator bashing I hereby decree that Mike shall soon pen the story of his childhood battles against a Young Ray Emery; Sworn Enemy of Hagersville. That should also be the title, or The Goalie Whose Mask Must Feature a Boxer Because He Likes to Fight, but Like a Girl. I would stick with the former.

Also, I have been toying with the idea of posting something about the time I've spent thinking about the following topic. I was flicking through channels the other day and came across professional wrestling, in all it's chauvinistic, macho, sweaty glory. I then thought about how it would be incredible to try and convince someone that the WWE was an excellent reflection of social interaction and relationships in the real world. I then decided it would be entertaining to take a well-meaning alien like ET to a WWE event as part of their education of typical everyday Earth life and then tell them its resemblance to wrestling was a joke. One might have to then explain what a joke is, and if their species is incapable of understanding humour it may result in the destruction of our planet, but at least due to a fantastic fake-out.

Here are a list of other humorous places to escort an extraterrestial if one hopes to lie to it about the nature of normal human life.

The Westminster Dog Show
a Monster Truck Rally
the set of a terrible sitcom, Two and a Half Men comes to mind
the NFL Draft
a conservative Christian youth conference
a mall in mid December
Garry's office
a frat house
an opera
Ottawa, Ontario (dissed again!)

Well, this isn't an exhaustive list, so feel free to add your own items... if anyone still checks this sight with regularity.

Woot, Wott, Watt....

Matt

food for thought...

2007-03-11T21:54:00.000-04:00

This post is short on thought from my own head, but this article most definitely got things rattling around upstairs. Thanks to Dave for the find.

Cas

Found 'em

2007-02-14T15:50:00.000-05:00

Tell the President, the WMD's have been taken care of.

Move out.

The Iron Horse.

Vicious Valentine...

2007-02-14T13:51:00.000-05:00

This morning I walked to A&P at 8:30am to purchase things to bake for my housemates for Valentine's day. I barely made it. Due to the incessant blindness caused by snow and wind, and the continual discomfort of my oh-so-inadequate sneakers filling up with snow, it was a struggle to say the least. So, in keeping with the weather theme from the last post (sort of) and continuing the tradition of developing a new theorem regarding Le Jour D'Amour, I give you my latest brainstorm...

It's hard not to notice how forehead-freezing awful it is in Kingston. As soon as you step outside, you are high-stepping through about 2 feet of snow and the wind reaches out to slap your face like you got too fresh...and fresh you are after the windy blast you receive. Usually cold air. Usually up your coat. Usually makes one feel like the best thing to do would be to surrender immediately: stop, drop, and ball.

I think I have the atmospheric misery of Valentine's day figured out once again. It all has to do with being caught in the middle of a lover's quarrel.

As we all know, Mother Nature and Father Time have been together since, like, Genesis. When they were first dating, everything was fresh and new and perfect. Things were looking good. Fast forward a few trillion years, and here we are: the delinquent products of creation, practically seeking out more ways to mess this place up. My guess is that Mother Nature is pretty stinking mad. Aside from flat out destroying her, we've turned into a bunch of proverbial daddy's girls (that goes for girls and guys) and spend most of our time trying to figure out how F.T. will let us live a little longer and look a whole lot younger. Mama feels slighted, with good reason.

It stands to reason then, that with all of us playing our part in the divide and conquer game, that Pops may be so preoccupied that he forgets Valentine's day. That is not going to go over well in an eons-old relationship that's been on the rocks for a while. Who's mom going to take it out on? She can't directly affect Papa T. too much, so why not try to make the ones in the middle pay for the distraction?

Enter winter in the worst way.

Makes perfect sense, no? I think yes. This leads me to the second part of my installment for this entry, since I am fortunate to be escaping said lover's quarrel as of Saturday, and making my escape to the Dominican Republic. I give you:

Top Ten Things You Will Never Hear Me Utter While In The Dominican:

10. I wish I would have thought to bring my bathing suit. Why didn't anyone tell me we'd be swimming?

9. Look at my gorgeous tan.

8. I wish I was just a little bit more burnt.

7. Tap water, anyone?

6. Let's go to bed at 9pm.

5. It's too hot

4. Let's put on sunscreen and roll in the sand

3. Anyone up for some non-competitive beach volleyball?

2. Who wants to have a sandball fight!?

1. I wish it would snow.

I hope everyone has a spectacular Feb 17-24, reading week or not. If you have bets on what degree my burns will be, place them now, I'll be sure to fill everyone in when I get back :P

Adios!

The soon to be not-so-pale horse.

Sturdy Danny McGee (I wish I was)

2007-02-05T18:21:00.000-05:00

I was gonna work today. Really, I was. I showed up and noticed the site was unnusually empty... 'Funny,' I thought, 'Such a nice day and nobody working.'
Then I stepped outside and realized why. If you haven't been outside today, with the wind chill its about minus 35. I even got on the roof though, despite the loss of feeling in most of my extremities.

I knew it was time to get down after about five minutes when my cheeks felt like leather and my brother complained his eyes were hurting. I looked over and he had icicles on his lashes, I thought it was pretty funny... he just kind of stood for a moment and stared at me like a lost puppy wondering what to do. Then it hit us both at the same time, 'We should take the day off.'

So instead of working, I played hockey. The arena felt like a spa compared to the outdoors. The ice was smooth and hard, I could have cried it was so beautiful. At that moment I knew I had to find a way to block out the sun, so that I could skip work and play hockey forever.

After the game a few of us met for lunch. When it was my turn to order my buddy interrupted and told the waitress that I was going to have 'Raisin Bran', (on account of the beard and the resemblance to Sturdy Danny McGee). Of course everyone laughed. Was I ashamed of my winterbeard though? Absolutely not. Why? Because Sturdy Danny McGee is a man's man. Lumberjack leathery tough. They were jealous is all.

Then I thought about it, and Sturdy Danny McGee definately would have worked today despite the cold... and for that I feel shame.

Humbly
The not-so-iron Horse.

Part 2 of 3

2007-01-31T20:25:00.000-05:00

I like reading posts written by Matt. Sometimes I'll take a break half way through reading and ask myself, 'What the flip is going on here?'
Other times, upon discovering a new Binnington post hot of the press, I'll read the first sentence followed immediately by the last just to get myself primed up. Try this one for example... just the first sentence and the last. If that last line doesn't intrigue you, nothing will.

That's the beauty of a Binnington post, you never know what's coming next... you think you're getting some bread and it turns out to be a stone, you ask for a fish and he gives you a snake. Moral of the story: according to Jesus, Matt won't make a very good father.

Hey, I don't make the rules, I just misinterpret them.

In honour of Matt's 1 year of blog, I've decided to post my favorite Binnington entry from the past 12 months....

Here's to many more my good man.
(Shampagne, fireworks)
Crazy Horse

Addendum

2007-01-26T09:54:00.000-05:00

It's come to my realization that in an earlier post (see January 17) I have either made an unintended graqmmatical mistake (check the unintentional typo related humour in that sentence) or have been the subject of blog sabotage. Now that I've piqued your curiosity I shall go on to outline exactly what has happened. And I quote:

"Firstly, I've come to the realization that I have, as they say, a diminuitive unit. Due to my assumption that you are probably totally shocked and dumbfounded by this statement I shall elaborate. I'm confident in my ability to remain a staunch law-abiding citizen because I've realized that jaywalking still exhilarates me" (Binnington? Ughhhh 01/17/07, emphasis added)

Only just today have I noticed this bizzare ending to the first sentence, not only because it doesn't make sense with the rest of the paragraph. I'd just like to clear the air by saying that I would never purposely outline to anyone that perchance happened onto this website the relative size of my junk. That being said, this statement is not only strange, it is blatantly untrue; my unit would only be diminuitive in comparison to Goliath's, an anaconda, or a redwood tree. And even if it was, it would only be because I had just gotten out of the pool; shrinkage happens to everybody and it's nothing to be ashamed of.

Uh Oh, I don't know what I'm talking about, this post wasn't intended to be a means of defending the size of my naughty bits to anyone. Let's try an addendum to the addendum.

I just want to say that I'm officially accusing Mike and/or Jon of blog tampering and that I'd challenge either of them to a size-off any day of the week.

Loser has to refer to themselves as the second "Horsewoman" of the Ablogolypse, and wear a t-shirt that says "My 'Unit' Is More Diminuitive than Matt Binnington's" for one week without washing. And it has to be hot pink, with tassles, and show some major midriff.

May the best (read: most endowed) man win,

Matt

My Ego Is So Last Monday Evening

2007-01-24T12:04:00.000-05:00

By following Mike's lead, and in an effort to score more points with the voters by trying to show my non-egotistical side I've decided to point you folks in the direction of several brilliant online writers that are not me.

First of all, since Mike is unwilling to do so himself I will hit you with his best TWO entries of last year, mostly due to the fact I couldn't narrow things down to one. They are located here, and here respectively, and contain material not for the faint of heart, or bladder.

Also, I have singlehandedly figured out enough HTML to post links to the following online journals I regularly read:

Rage's Blog: The thoughts of Rachel rarely have anything to do with rage yet her nickname, used sparingly, still remains. She writes about a lot of neat stuff, most notably her family. If she ever discloses info about childbirth again do what I do and skip the naughty bits...

He Is Pernell: I stumbled across this blog through procrastination via reading multiple links and have enjoyed it ever since. Pernell is the pastor of a church that really excites me, and one which my brother attends. He also has a picture of a hippo's butt at the top of his page, which scores extra points for showing some skin without being promiscuous.

Poser or Prophet: Dan is a guy I'm lucky enough to know from camp who writes about really challenging and thought-provoking theological things. He also has lots of homemade T-shirts; my favourites say "I F***ing Love Boys Camp" and "Jesus Is My Girlfriend Now", although I don't know if he wears the latter one too much now, it might confuse his fiance...

And there you have it, I'm a genuinely nice guy...

Matt

42 Things Jon should Tattoo to his Chest (if he had the space)

2007-01-23T20:36:00.000-05:00

Right now I'm in between sips of Compliments refresh Apple Juice (TM), with Viamin C added. I bought it at the grocery store for 99 cents. That's right ladies, I do my own shopping and I'm thrifty.

I love apple juice because I was denied the precious nectar for so long as a child, not because my parents didn't buy it, but because as soon as a can was discovered in the cupboard it was consumed in its entirety by the lucky pirate who happened to stumble upon the liquid gold... If you have at least one sibling, you know what I'm talking about.

So now I'm making up for lost apple juice drinking I missed in my formative years, which would explain my chronic diarrhea (I kid, I kid). Well, now that wasn't the segue I was anticipating, but it will do.

So, I've been keeping a watchful eye on our blog collective and couldn't help but notice the walk down memory lane. Well, I've got three words for you, "MSN Live Spaces is dead!" (Okay that was about 4 words and an acronym but you get the point.) We have each other now, we're united in our polyblogging.... Live Spaces is sooooo 2006.

I'm sorry. I miss it sometimes too. Late at night when I'm tossing and turning I'll remember my MSN space before it became 'Live' and cry a little.
I decided that it would hurt too much if I were to go back and relive my old Bulletless Gunslinger magic. So, instead of posting a favorite from my old blog, I'm gonna one-up all you egocentric fops (and fopette) and post my favorite from each one of yours respectively... starting with Jon.

Without further adieu...
Here it is.

Pure gold Jon.... pure gold.

Yours Truely,
Crazy Horse

sneak preview of summer 2007...

2007-01-22T10:37:00.000-05:00

I know I am getting a little ahead of myself by writing about this now, especially because winter just decided to formally enter the picture last week. However, I am too flipping excited about some things that have taken place recently not to talk about them. They are awesome!!!
This is what they are:

Over the Christmas break, while my brother and his wife were visiting us, on their way home from a trip to minnesota to visit her family, we found out that Shannon is pregnant! Yaaaaaay! No one in my famiy - despite everyone's hopes to the contrary - thought babies would be making an appearance on the Ward family scene any time in the super near future. My brother and his wife are both doctors and Colin practically lives at the hospital right now given his chief resident's position. I can imagine that the decision to have kids would have been difficult, but we are SOOOOO excited!

THEN, a few days later, my sister Amanda and her husband were over for dinner and Amanda was looking a little green around the gills. Out of the blue, while sitting in the rocking chair in our kitchen she says rather woefully "I'm so sick!!! I am tired of living a lie and making up excuses as to why I can't hang out anymore! I'm pregnant!" I thought she was joking, until I found out she wasn't...(duh). I got to be excited all over again! The best part is that Amanda and Shannon are both due in August within 4 days of eachother. Pretty awesome!!!

So that covers the latter part of the summer, but what about the former, you ask...

Friday afternoon I got a call from my oldest sister who runs a company in Toronto. We chatted for a few minutes, and then she says: "Oh, Cas, I just wanted to let you know that we definitely have a job for you this summer. When you start on May 1st, you will be assistant producing the Curiosity Film Festival." I can't tell you how excited I was/am! After the festival is over in June, I get to do more production work for the other projects Curiosity Inc will be working on. Ridiculously amazing opportunities!

So that's that - those are some things that I have to look forward to this summer. I am feeling particularly blessed these days! It helps keep things in perspective when school seems to be a little (or a lot) much, and I start to feel like the light at the end of the tunnel is a long way off...

I will enjoy the semester here, it's going to be busy as well as really great, I think...but come May 1st, Toronto might not know what hit it.

C

I was nervous.

2007-01-20T12:44:00.000-05:00

When I first read this challenge I guffawed

Me: *readreadreadread* "Guffaw! I surely have posts of such hilarity that I will be crowned the bloggiest horse of this ablogolypse."

However, as I typed the name of my previous blog I became nervous. What if I didn't have anything really funny. I mean, I can't, off the top of my head, remember anything particularly funny. I'm also having trouble typing. I think I need to clip my fingernails.

Better. So I began reading through old posts and came across one that was, even by my standards, fairly weak. That was until I got to the end and realized that - wait! this is bloody brilliant! If you don't think its funny, at the very least marvel at my mastery of the English language.

Voila:

Remember Cousin It? I do. For me he's become a tragic hero of sorts. But that is neither here nor there.

I was thinking about Cousin It the other day, and I started to wonder if there was a whole race of Cousin It's. And if so, do they have a ruler, a king or queen? And what would this monarch be called? The Great It? The Wondrous It? Miss Most In Need Of Scissors? After much deliberationg I decided he/she would probably be called the Grand It. I then proceeded to write this poem in dedication:

How much granite could the Grand It grind if the Grand It could grind granite
-J.B. Sinclair, Poet-for-hire

not so fast...

2007-01-18T09:55:00.000-05:00

In honour of Matt's blogging anniversary, I will proceed to beat him at his own game. I've narrowed my selection of numerous guffaw-inducing posts down to just a couple. The first is a theorem I divised last Valentine's day. I was single at the time and observed the world at a safe distance. In any case, hilarity ensued.
The second is actually an email I wrote recently (don't tell me it doesn't count, becuase I will fight you. It counts because I said so and it's funny.) I was attempting to give some advice to someone [I will give you a hint...Matt] regarding their fantasy sports basketball team, with which they may or not be in love. Hard to say. In any case, my advice is airtight just like my theorem. I hope that you *rotfl* while/after perusing both!

love theorem...
In the spirit of Valentine's Day, what follows is my dissertation on why people tend to hook up less in the winter. I have no scientific or factual evidence to support this claim, merely a set of logical and well-observed suppositions. I am sure that upon critically thinking through them, and hitching a ride on my train of thought, you'll come to be of the same opinion. If not, well, I'm smarter than you anyway, so just take my word(s) for it.

OK, so, you'd think that it would make more sense for more hookups to occur in the winter when people are cold and seeking heat from one another. Arguably (at least in terms of a Kingston winter) jackets, coats, scarves, hats, Uggs, longjohns, hoodies, or any other manner of insulation, are all inadequate. We gravitate towards other people to preserve some semblance of comfort during our frigid existence. However, i posit that this is only the case up to a point. That point is reached upon the experience of any sort of precipitation, wind, or combination of the two (and once again, given that it's a Kingston winter, you are likely to get the latter, involving snow, rain and hail).

Thus far: P = Precipitation W= wind.

The experience of said combination causes SF, or Squinty Face. Squinty Face is the result of trying to shelter ones eyes from the onslaught of the various forms of P, in tandem with the gale force of W. It involves the eyelashes and lids coming together to form the smallest of clefts through which to see. I contend that some people will close their eyes entirely, but I do not address this asinine phenomenon within the confines of this theorem. In conjuction with the affected eyes, the top lip of an individual tends to rise above the teeth into a sneer of sorts. The nose also wrinkles, which causes the cheeks to bunch. All elements combine into the seemingly permanent cold-weather expression that I refer to as Squinty Face.

Due to the fact that absolutely no one is attractive (and therefore undesireable or "U") when sporting the aforedescribed (TM) expression, I have derived the following equation:

(P)(W)^SF = U

An individual's degree of U is directly corelative to SF, which is directly corelative to P and W, which is an absolute truth of the geographic location of Kingston and surrounding area (and I suspect, most of Canada and the American midwest).

There you have it. This is why I have heard more people lamenting the lack of a valentine today, than the sound of lovers cooing into one another's ears. (I suppose if I could hear the latter, it would beg the question as to why I was standing so close, or why the lovers were cooing so loudly...showoffs...i hate PDAs...but I digress)

I think you will see that this theorem is in fact, airtight. The evidence to support it is insurmountable. Thusly, I challenge anyone to send me, or post a link to, a picture of someone with SF that is attractive. SF is a serious winter affliction not to be taken lightly, however, looking on the bright side - summer is just around the corner, and even if you're squinting into the sun, at least you're showing a little more skin. *Brrrow*.

Happy VD to everyone,

CAS

helpful hints and tricky tips
I was reading through the sports pages this morning, and I thought I would help you out a little bit, in case you haven't had time to keep up with your F-sports pools. Unlikely, I know, but sometimes someone else's vision can really clear things up for you. These suggestions might just rocket you out of your current position (even if it's first) and put you in the stratosphere of winning - untouchable by anyone.

Here goes. These are some folks I think you might want to consider for your teams, and why:

Mardy Collins: I have no idea what his stats are like, but he is suspended for 6 games for a scrap with the Nuggets. I know he won't get you any points sitting on the bench right now, but think long term - when he gets back, he'll surely be the baddest 'MC' around!

Nene: also suspended, but just for one game. This is peanuts, and I'm pretty sure it's probably becuase of his name, lucky guy! One name = one game. You might want a player on your squad who can pretty much get away with being a little dirty! Get those fists up, son!

Steve Nash: Even if it's just for posterity, you are going to want to have the only white guy EVER who (will probably) be voted MVP thrice. That's crazy, man. Get on it. Plus, TJ Ford says he's "smart and crafty" if that doesn't say ringing endorsement, i don't know what does.

Gilbert Arenas: THe man scored SIXTY POINTS! THat's ridiculous. Against Kobe Bryant, no less. I bet you all the arenas in the world couldn't hold his talent *cymbal crash* and he's obviously pretty good at drawing fouls; always an asset

Jason Kidd: only men accomplish what this guy does. he recorded his EIGHTY FIRST career triple-double last night, and though that might make your coffee pretty gross, it's delicious on the court.

I don't even know if you have the right guys in that 5 to start them all...I will guess not. However, these guys should be so good, that they could theoretically play anywhere. Think about it. It just might be your chance for greatness.

That's it, folks! Thanks for thinking I'm awesome.

C-horse.

Ughhh.

2007-01-17T20:41:00.000-05:00

Since no one has enough metaphorical cajones (we here are a unisex hair salon blog of course) to challenge my stake on 2006 blogging supremacy I thought it best to write another entry in 2007, to continue my unchallenged run into this year. Thus I present two things that I've spent a lot of time thinking about recently - both in coincidental relation to my life in crime.

Firstly, I've come to the realization that I have, as they say, a diminuitive unit. Due to my assumption that you are probably totally shocked and dumbfounded by this statement I shall elaborate. I'm confident in my ability to remain a staunch law-abiding citizen because I've realized that jaywalking still exhilarates me, in ways that cause me to now spontaneously nickname myself Matt: Thrillseeker Extraordinaire - My Middle Name is Danger, and by that I Mean John (TM). I figure I won't be eagerly looking to commit some sort of unlawful act when I still get a rush waling across a busy road not at a crosswalk. One way streets are purely for a small high, two way roads make me feel like a real man, and I sweat a little when going by just after a police cruiser. I can't imagine what would happen if I tried to cross a highway, I probably would lose my mind in a fit of pure euphoria. I live life on the edge...

Second, I've been poring a lot over what I would do if someone tried to steal my wallet while I was peeing at a(n)? urinal. I figure I would have a few options:

1) Turn around and pee on the guy
2) Turn around and pee on the floor, hoping to create a pool of slippery, brutal-fall-causing liquid
3) Turn around immediately and try to hit the guy in a face with a urine stream of knockout-causing strength
4) Turn around, swear, and then chase the guy down once I was finished my business
5) Turn around, tuck prematurely, and chase the guy down while peeing my pants

If I had a choice I think I would choose 3, mostly because it would make for the best story, even if it didn't quite work.

Mattoilet

PS - I started writing this last week, when the first paragraph actually mad sense.

Self-Proclaimed Champion

2007-01-13T09:29:00.000-05:00

Happy Anniversary everybody! Oh, you may be wondering exactly what sort of anniversary you might be celebrating... well January 2007 marks the completion of my first year of the adventure I like to call blogging, and in order to celebrate I decided to post my favourite entry from the past year. Also be sure to peep the limited edition, digitally remastered content in the re-release (marked by a *).

That said, I can think of nothing better than to issue a public challenge to my blogmates to get the competitive juices flowing. So, Mike, Jon, and Cas, I dare you to post your favourite personal entry from the past year if you even think it has a remote chance to stand up to mine, let alone be included on the same webpage. We all know which of the horsepeople is pacing this here blogging apocolypse; I'll give you a hint...

Me

So readers feel free to comment on your favourite once everyone has posted, or just comment in general on whatever you feel. It doesn't even have to be relevant, or understandable, or even in English.

Um, Yeah! Here goes...

Pretty Sweet Band Names

The other day I was bumming around and listening to Jimmy Eat World when I was hit by a ridiculous band-name related epiphany. I'll let you in on my thought process:

Thought 1 -Jimmy Eat World is a pretty sweet name for a band
Thought 2 - Jimmy Eat World is a sentence that is totally ridiculous grammatically
Thought 3 - Jimmy Eat World is a sentence that is totally ridiculous grammatically because it's just a name, then a verb, and some random noun
Thesis - Jimmy Eat World must not be the only pretty sweet name for a band that is just a name, then a verb, and some random noun

So then I started coming up with pretty sweet band names of my own, here are a few:

Martha Urinate Firetruck
Eugene Lick Isotope
Gertrude Backflip Vaseline
Aladdin Jumpkick Envelope
Napoleon Ransack Pineapple
Beowulf Interview Electron
Geoffrey Fight Aristocrat
Matt Is Awesomest-Thing
Erica Breakdance Underwear*
Logan Uppercut Detergent*
Macy Somersault Sunglasses*
Edna Snuggle Elastic*
Sigfreid Digest Urchin*

It's actually a mildly amusing exercise, so try coming up with a few on your own!

Matt

PS - If you or anyone you know is actually in a band and want to use these pretty sweet band names go right ahead, I won't be needing them for awhile anyway.

Socially Butterflied

2007-01-11T11:03:00.000-05:00

After being away from school for a number of weeks during the holidays I returned to mighty Kingston ON for a wild new semester. Unfortunately, I had forgotten how many people go to my school and subsequently, how many of them that I sort of know that I run into around campus. By nature I am sort of an introvert, and don't really go out of my way to say hello to mild acquaintances or people I've only just met. I've learned from past experience that this doesn't always sit well with the people who think I should be saying hello to them; I've been told I'm a jerk through the intermediaries of various better acquainted friends more than once. So I decided to make an effort this year to go from no acknowledgement of sort-of-friends to awkward eye contact, followed by a head nod, potentially an attention-drawing wave, and maybe if I'm feeling extra inspired a full-on hello. I might even hug someone; especially if there's a good chance I think the gesture would be reciprocated, otherwise I'd go from jerk to creepy hug fiend, and that wouldn't be good especially if I was sent to prison for assault and there continued my hug-giving ways. I'll just stick to audible affection.

With this new resolution in mind I headed off to my first day of class eager to awkwardly ask someone about their Christmas holidays, expecting little but a brief sum-up of "good" and the following painfully awkward silence once I'd run out of material. However my plans were thwarted by two variables I wasn't expecting; I'll call these Powerful Supernatural Indicator that Matt Should Continue Keeping to Himself 1 & 2.

Powerful Supernatural Indicator that Matt Should Continue Keeping to Himself 1 = The Sun

The glare experienced on my 25 minute walk to class was the greatest I'd ever experienced in my entire life. I was partially afraid the cause was an enormous solar flare rapidly speeding toward Earth to wipe out all of its inhabitants; luckily I often trot around in the winter with a thick coating of SPF 80 on my exposed skin - just to keep up appearances. So I wasn't worried about being vaporized. However, I was worried about being unable to clearly see anything coming toward me and thus felt justified in mostly looking at the ground or squinting awkwardly at oncoming persons, cars, and trees. I don't think I hit anything, but I'm big enough not to feel pain when plowing through small shrubs and 5'3" girls. I gave up engaging anyone fairly immediately, mostly because I thought God was giving me a sign not to, but not actually.

Powerful Supernatural Indicator that Matt Should Continue Keeping to Himself 2 = Crazy Girls

I'm convinced that the ongoing trend of girls wearing sunglasses that cover their entire face is an actually premeditated act of the entire female sex to frustrate me. As evidenced from before, it's hard enough discerning faces in bright retina-imploding light without anybody wearing face-shieldish frames. Now some of my good friends who I would legitimately say hello to look like 17 different other girls whose names aren't Sarah (I've discovered this in an embarassing fashion more than once before). In a bizarre twist of fate I just witnessed someone who fits exactly the description I just outlined slip and fall on the sidewalk outside. Take that embarassing tumble on behalf of the entire womanly persuasion, you mega-sunglassed crazy girl... Snap!

So sorry if I've refrained from properly saying Hello to you on the street before, I was crying on the inside too...

Just Joking,

Matt

Holiday Happening's

2007-01-09T20:16:00.000-05:00

Most Favorite Christmas Gift:

Scene: Christmas Eve Dinner Party with relatives
Act 1 Scene 1: Enter Grandpa, sits down at kitchen beside Mike, who is busy small talking with uncle Gary.

Grandpa: 'So I saw that movie "Borat."'
Mike: 'Excuse me, what?'
Grandpa: .... 'Borat'
Mike: (unable to respond due to breath stopping fits of laughter)

Yes, by far the greatest Christmas gift this year was the discovery that my Grandfather --retired Police Chief of Hamilton Wentworth-- had taken my Grandmother to see the movie 'Borat.'

Second Most Favorite Christmas Gift:

Act 1 Scene 2: Grandma discovers that Grandpa has let the cat out of the bag.
Grandma (smiling bashfully): 'I was hoping he wasn't gonna tell anybody... it was disgusting'

And just when I thought I was beginning to compose myself.

Whatever posessed my Grandparents to see the movie I'll never know, but I'm sure glad they did. Merry Christmas to me, best two presents I got this year.... makes me laugh just writing this.

Holiday Happening 1: Shaving Chest

I shaved my chest. It was an accident - I was only trying to shave an 'M' into the chest hair between my (small) nipples but it turned out for the worst and so - everything had to go. Don't worry though... it'll be back in about 4-5 business days.

Holiday Happening 2: Shaving Head

The youthfulness I felt after seeing my chest bare after all these years inspired me to move the razor North (and only North for all those polluted minds). It was a bad idea, I look like 'Curious George.'

Holiday Happening 3: Beard Growing

Seeing Dave B.'s winter beard last year at the Third Space inspired me to try growing my very own. From December 21 - March 21... its nothin' but beard for this guy.

Holiday Happening 4: Brother's Engagement.

Yup, its true - one of my kin has found himself a life mate. I'm pretty happy for a variety of reasons.
a) My mother is baby crazy. Ever since my brothers and I have had the ability to procreate my mother has been patiently (sometimes not so patiently) waiting for us to get married so we can have babies of our own. (When I say of 'our own' what I mean is babies for my mother). Now that one of us is one step closer to babies, it takes the pressure off the rest of us. Here's to Josh, for takin' one for the team.

b) What was B?? Can't remember...

c) His fiancee (let's call her Chantal) is Dutch, and the Dutch are practically baby making machines - I'd say she's got at least four in her. Which means I should be eclipsed from my mothers watchful eyes for the next 7 - 10 years.

d) Did I mention my mother likes babies?

e) Chantal also manages a 'Subway.' Every time I visit she makes me a free sub of my choosing. Once I even felt bad for taking advantage of her kindness and so only ordered a 'Cold Cut Trio' (cheapest on the menu) but she would have none of it and upgraded my sub to something more delicious with bacon. I love her.
I probably shouldn't be disclosing this classified Subway information on a public space... but I don't think she reads this. At least I hope she doesn't... otherwise I won't get anymore free subs and my life will be ruined.

Anyway, welcome to the family Chantal, have lots of babies with my brother.
No really, lots.

Sincerely,
The Mike Horse.

Belts

2007-01-01T18:15:00.000-05:00

First off, let me second Cas on congratulating Terrence and Helen. See Terrence, I told you Helen would forgive you for borrowing her prom dress to help me clean the dried red wine off my windows.

I've started collecting cool belts. I didn't mean for it to happen. I never decided to become a belt guy. It's really the dumbest thing to collect - I mean the only way anyone will ever know is if you become one of those tools who tuck their t-shirt into their belt to show it off. And I really don't want to be a tool.

But now I have a belt collection(A pretty kickin' one, too), mostly as a result of people who love me giving me belts as gifts. This is a dilemma of unprecedented proportions, and so my New Year's Resolution has been to hide in my bed until my belts grow old and ugly or global warming kicks in and I don't need to wear a shirt anymore.

Of course, then I'll need to hit the gym and buy one of these.

One last word on belts. There recently been a remarkable innovation in belt technology (I think the fact that there is still room for functional belt improvement after 8 milienia of civilisation is evidence that maybe we really did come from primordial ooze) Half of my belts, instead of sporting the traditional metal loop and prong closure have a much more convenient hook system. Unbuckling, which used to be a time consuming two handed manuevre, can now be accomplished with the simple flick of the thumb. If you think the few seconds this saves is inconsequential then you have never had a three hour meeting with the president of a multinational corporation after getting the extra spicy pad thai at the sketchy chinese place around the corner, and then had to make small talk about the new Michael Buble album before breaking the record for the 100 metre (8.97s) making your way to the little boys room.

And with that, I'll leave you.

-jon

yay!...

2006-12-30T22:49:00.000-05:00

I can't think of why this would need to be kept secret now that the cat's out of the proverbial bag, facebook-style, so this is my formal and public

"CONGRATULATIONS!!!!"

to Helen and Terrence on their recent engagement! I would assume that I speak for all the horsepeople of this blog when I say that we couldn't be happier for the two of you!

We are equally excited for the rumoured open bar that it is said you will be having at the reception. PARTY ON!!!!

(juuust kidding)

Good luck and God Bless, you crazy kids!

Cas

Things I Learned While Studying that Won't Help Me Pass My Exam

2006-12-20T23:33:00.000-05:00

Thoughts from today; one spent cooped up inside my room, the only one home for most of the day, studying for exams. Lack of social contact causes me to lose my mind.

1) People With the Last Name Curry on the Oklahoma State Basketball Team Have Unique First Names

I've become accustomed to the fact that quite a large proportion of North American athletes have intriguing, non-traditional names. Some of my personal favourites are Lofa Tatupu, D'Brickashaw Ferguson, and the retired, yet all time greatest Zarley Zalapski. Then today I encountered an entire new kind of strange while reading some American college basketball news; one of the star players at Oklahoma St. U has the name JamesOn Curry. That's right, either his parents decided to take a pretty standard English name and add the word On to it, or they decided to randomly capitalize a letter in the name Jamieson, and spell it differently. Both these possibilities have interesting and humorous results when applied to the names of people I know;

For starters, the writers of this collective: MattOn, MikeOn, CasOn, or my favourite JonOn.

I then checked out the top 10 baby names in Canada: EmmaOn, EthanOn, EmilyOn, MatthewOn, SarahOn, JoshuaOn, MadisonOn, JacobOn, HannahOn, NicholasOn. After the innumerable nationwide audience of this post gets their hands on this material you'll be one of the first to have read the top 10 names of 2007. Yeah, adding "On" to people's names is the next big trend in baby names, and by that I mean the first big trend.

Now to just capitilize random letters: MattHew, MichAel, CatherIne, JoN, EmmA, EthAn, EmiLy, SarAh, JoshUa, MadisOn, JacOb, HannAh, NicholAS(S). I'd hate to be the kindergarten teacher the day MadisOn has to spell her name on the blackboard the first time, that would be a discussion brought up at the parent-teacher meetings.

2) Rerverseumcision Existed in Ancient Palestine, but not in the Dicitionary

I know, it's not a word right? But according to my New Testament textbook the process exists. Let me explain, my next exam is on the New Testament course I am currently taking and one important concept is the Hellinistic society that allowed Christianity to take root. In said society it was common to assimilite native cultures and infuse them with Greek tradition, religion, recreation, etc. In most areas of Palestine these change were met with anger and disgust, but in others... "Some of the Jews living in Palestine welcomed those innovations. Indeed, some men were enthused enough to undergo surgery to remove the marks of circumcision, allowing them to exercise in the Jerusalem gymnasium without being recognized as Jewish."

This idea blows my mind.

I have no idea how that "surgery" would work.

Therefore, I'll leave it up to your imagination because there's no need to for the concept to be fleshed out. *cymbal crash*

3) There Are Parts of My Body I'm Not Good at Touching with My Tongue

Remember when you were a kid and you learned that you couldn't lick your elbow? I think today I figured out how the first guy to come up with this earth-shattering idea stumbled upon the discovery - I don't think he wanted to waste any of his Astro Fat Free Mixed Berry yogurt either. I usually don't try to pass things to my mouth via my funny bone, but sometimes accidents happen, and this one caused me to spend several vain seconds holding on to the hope that I could somehow break an anatomical impossibility. Flip, maybe next time...

Somewhat More Enlightened,

Matt

Joyeux Noel...

2006-12-18T13:36:00.000-05:00

Well, I know I said I would share my most embarassing story with everyone in my last entry, but I hope you will all forgive if I share something just a little bit different instead. I promise I will loose the ridiculous ramblings of my silly self, soon.

Yesterday was the 5th anniversary of the death of someone special. While he was alive, I was fortunate enough to be close to him for over a year. 5 years seems like a long time, and at the same time (as cliche as it sounds) not very long at all. As a result of this contradiction-in-terms, I am usually thrown into a contradiction-in-feelings, when December 17th happens around. The hurt associated with it has lessened as the years go by, but certain memories - what I was doing; where I was when I found out; the look on my mom's face having to tell me - remain all too clear.

This year, I wasn't sure what was going to happen, or how I would feel. The night of the 16th was pretty rough, but I think it was a combination of having been pretty isolated for most of the time that I've been home, as well as wishing I could be in the company of all of those people that I hold nearest and dearest, instead of being alone inside my own head. Maybe I should have been listening to my ipod...

In any case, I got up yesterday morning and went to church, and though I didn't really feel up to sticking around for too long afterwards, the topic up for discussion during the sermon was all too appropriate. Chris was talking about Joy. As strange a connection as that may seem at first, I want you to stick with me.

We all know what kinds of images and definitions come to mind when we first think of the word 'Joy': that ecstatic exhuberance; the smile stretching from ear to ear; the I-Just-Won-Both-Showcases, Bob!!! sort of look. However, what came out of yesterday's conversation at church had more to do with something intrinsic in us. Something softer, less brash. Something not as finite as a perfect-present sort of glee. It was defined variously as 'anticipatory,' 'a Jesus gift,' and 'a choice, at times.' I liked all of these, but most of all I liked

'a quiet delight.'

Yesterday for me was not - and may never be - a time when ecstatic exhuberance enters into the picture. But, after being blessed to be a part of the conversation at church, I realised that I have a lot of things to be quietly delighted about - something made possible because of everything I've been through, not in spite of...

I've been by myself a lot in the last few days, but I've been hanging out in a great home that is warm, with no shortage of things to eat. I have the luxury of looking forward to seeing my family and friends when they are home, which all happens later this week. I have the time to replenish my mind and body after working hard at school - an opportunity I am also fortunate to have. And, I have been blessed with the capacity to love and be loved by someone else: A God assisted endeavour that 5 years ago, I might have told you was impossible...

Another element of Joy that was mentioned yesterday was Hope...and, at the risk of sounding a whole lot like a Hallmark card, I hope that joy will find everyone this Christmas; (as well as the 364 other days, this year) I hope it hugs them, sneaks up on them, feeds them, comforts them, surrounds them, and is with(in) them...

Cas

Why the Invention of the iPod has Saved Your Life.

2006-12-17T16:46:00.000-05:00

The iPod is a magnificent invention.

I know I sound like some suburbanite yuppie, which I guess to some extent I am, but the truth is I'm trying not to buy or own things I don't need or use.

With that being said, I do own an iPod. I bought it before I moved to South America for the summer, justifying it's purchase by the belief that I couldn't survive life in another country if I didn't have my world of music to escape into from time to time. Turns out I was probably right.

Now that I've moved back I justify my iPod ownership through another means, 'the Podcast.' I'm a relative newcomer to the world of podcasting, but since the discovery, I've signed up for more podcasts than I could probably listen to in a year.
I love them for three reasons
-Most of them are free
-I'm an information junkie
-If not for music or talk radio I would otherwise be inside my head all day.

I'll expand on the last of the three points.

My job consists of staring at shingles all day. The only thing that separates me from the sky and the roof is my mind, and in it I play all day long. This is great for awhile, but if you've ever sat and stared at a wall for any length of time, you'll know the excitement usually doesn't last. In order to combat the boredom my co-workers and I (who all, coincidentally, happen to share the same mother) play games like, 'From which movie is this line from?' 'Remember the time?' 'Name that tune.' Most of the time however, we just go about the day on our respective side of the roof.

And that's why the iPod has saved you life.

You see, I'm not normally criminally minded nor do I wish any ill will upon anyone, but I'm pretty sure if I didn't have podcasting and music to guide my mind through the drudgery of staring at shingles all day, I probably would have plotted to kill most of the people I know. If you're reading this, that probably means you. Sorry.

But Hurray for iPods.

M Horse.

PS. Since its Christmas and I'm in the Spirit of recieving, I would like to end this post by requesting some podcast suggestions. First to recommend a podcast gets to twirl their fingers through my chesthair for 30 seconds. If that isn't incentive... I don't know what is.

Daughter, Water, Yachter....Teeter-Totter?

2006-12-16T11:51:00.000-05:00

My housemates and I don't really watch TV all that often, but when we do the show rarely is anything other than sports, and certainly not a reality Pop Star program. Strangely however, part of yesterday evening ended up being spent enjoying (tolerating?) So You Think You Can Dance?

I thought the show was pretty dumb, but I did laugh at much of our ongoing commentary. At one point after watching a routine with lots of crazy lifts and throws somebody threw out this gem;

H-mate: Wow, that was made all the more impressive by the fact she wasn't the smallest of dancers; I mean, she could really hold her own on a teeter-totter.

Someone asked him where he came up with that beaut';

H-mate: Oh you know, I was thinking about it before I went to sleep last night and it made me laugh; good one huh?

I don't make this stuff up.

Matt

boy crazy...

2006-12-14T22:05:00.000-05:00

So in procrastinating from doing the work I previously had piled on my proverbial plate, I watched a certain amount of television. In doing so, I saw many an ad for the new show on TBS called "My Boys." Upon watching a little bit of that show, and doing a certain amount of purely superficial contemplation, I realised that my life is exactly like that of PJ.

I too have "My Boys."

Over the last 5 or 6 years, it seems that I have cultivated many a friendship with members of the opposite sex, and most of them have managed to last. It's not uncommon for me to find myself in the presence of all/only males, and aside from being totally repulsed from time to time, I don't feel uncomfortable in the least.

This is all to say that I think that the creators of TBS's current hit modeled the show after my life...except that I am not a sports writer....and I don't live in Chicago....and my brother is 10 years older and not part of my immediate posse...aaaaand I love but don't LOVE sports, my name doesn't start with P or J and I have plenty of female friends as well.

...

I guess it's come down to the fact that I am less like the lead character than I thought, but really popular nonetheless. (like, really popular)

All in all, it's been a good day.

Cas

ps - tomorrow I'll tell you about my newly created most-embarassing-moment-ever...tonight, let's not spoil the good cheer...

Liam Neeson Breaks Things With Unfortunate Parts of Himself

2006-12-14T21:39:00.000-05:00

In the midst of studying exams I often find ways to procrastinate that go so beyond practical that they become things I would never do if I didn't have four different exams to study for. Case and point; today I spent a good chunk of the afternoon reorganizing my closet, making root beer floats, and reading about Edward Norton. Then I came across this item, which I later related to my ridiculous housemate Taylor.

Me: I read the wildest thing today. Did you know that Liam Neeson, the guy who played Schindler in Schindler's List...

Taylor: (No response)

M: ... he was in Love Actually...

T: (still nothing)

M: uhh, he was that Qui-Gon guy in Star Wars...

T: Oh yeah yeah, Qui Gon, gotcha, what about him?

M: Did you know in the year 2000 he had to get his pelvis bolted together after a horrific motorcycle accident? Get this, he was driving around 60km/hr when a deer came galloping across the road and tried to jump over his bike, when it landed right on his pelvis, broke it, and killed the deer... Isn't that nuts?

T: (amidst laughter) Oh man, that's crazy.

M: Yeah I know.

T: (deadpan) So what you're saying is he broke a deer with his pelvis?

M: Oh shoot, yeah, he totally killed a deer with his pelvis.

After laughing for awhile at the absurdity of that conversation, I immediately made the connection as to why Neeson was later cast as famed sex researcher Alfred Kinsey in the biopic of the same name...

Yeah, I went there.

I'm here all week folks,

Matt

PS - I originally entitled this entry "Liam Neeson Breaks Things With His Groin", but thought the last word was a little over-the-top. So I checked Dictionary.com for some other options; here is the info for "pelvis"

Synonyms: abdomen, bay window*, beer belly*, breadbasket*, corporation*, front porch*, gut, insides, intestines, paunch, pelvis, pot*, pot belly*, solar plexus, spare tire*, tank, tummy, venter.
* = informal or slang

I might start reading the thesaurus for its comedic value, and so I can say things like "Wow, that vase, jeroboam, or reliquary, whichever you prefer, is lovely, beauteous, exquisite, and pulchritudinous."

prolifiwhat?...

2006-12-13T16:28:00.000-05:00

Well, that's it for me. I'm home for the holidays and finished all of it. It was terrible.

However, it's interesting to note how short a memory I have, as the wretchedness of the entire experience is already fading from my consciousness. I have only vague recollections of the 12.5 hr day put in at the library, with the odd 6 or 7 hr campout at the JDUC sprinkled in for good measure. I am not sure whether it's the sense of accomplishment of having finished everything that is clouding my mind, or if I've simply retreated into mental fetal position so that my overused grey matter can begin to recuperate....tough to say...but it's obvious nonetheless as to why my poor habits of procrastination have yet to be broken....

Aaaaanyway, on to the point. My sincerest of apologies to everyone who has been waiting - nay, yearning - for me to write more. As mentioned above, it has been a busy time, but now that I am home I am making a solemn vow in front of all (threeish) of you that I will maintain a prolific status on this blog throughout the holidays. My prolificness...proliferocity...prolifi....?? will be unmatched!

Let me use this first writing opportunity to wish everyone who is not me, and not done - BONNE CHANCE! (I think that's french for "neener neener, I'm done and you are not") From my couch, in my sweatpants, I salute you!

Giver of Glad Tidings,

C

ps - jokes...seriously, to those with inordinate amounts of stress still with them - you have my
best!

A Splash of Irony

2006-12-12T19:50:00.000-05:00

I had the pleasure of being a guest on our very own Catherine Ward's radio program recently (check out the Tuesday Indie Wakeup on the CFRC website) when I was struck by a particular news item. The former President and dictator of Chile, Augusto Pinochet, had passed away December 11 at the ripe old age of 91. What intrigued me however was a man responsible for the death and torture of hundreds of his countrymen during his reign passed away on International Human Rights Day. In other words, in commemeration of a day devoted to raising awareness for Human rights a famous politician, known for his disregard for human life, decided to die. If that isn't ironic I don't know what is.

This got me thinking about the somewhat morbid topic of ironic deaths. I remember when I was a kid I won a goldfish in a bag at one of those dinky elementary school carnivals; I probably threw a couple beanbags through a hole in a piece of cardboard or something. I realized once I got home that I had far more interesting things around the house than a tiny goldfish in a plastic bag and turned on the fish neglect switch. As you can imagine it wasn't long before the goldfish passed due to a lack of food, and I was left with a plastic bag full of water and a decaying pet. Naturally I flushed the fish down the toilet and didn't think much of it until later that week, when in the car a host on the radio was reminding listeners to be particularly kind to their furry, scaly, or aquatic friends, due to the fact it was National Pet Week. I had starved my only pet ever to death during the yearly seven-day period designated for appreciating it. Needless to say I was somewhat introspective and decided I was a horrible person; but after those five minutes had passed I changed the radio station and felt fine. In hindsight it probably would have been more ironic had the fish passed away from drowning, but I suppose that's impossible.

That evening decided to surf the internet to try and discover the most ironic death possible. The Darwin Awards are always interesting, but there were just so many stories so I moved on. Here are some of my favourites which I discovered later:

Attila the Hun:
One of the most notorious villains in history, Attila's army had conquered all of Asia by 450 AD-from Mongolia to the edge of the Russian Empire-by destroying villages and pillaging the countryside.
How he died: He got a nosebleed on his wedding night.
In 453 AD, Attila married a young girl named Ildico. Despite his reputation for ferocity on the battlefield, he tended to eat and drink lightly during large banquets. On his wedding night, however, he really cut loose, gorging himself on food and drink. Sometime during the night he suffered a nosebleed, but was too drunk to notice. He drowned in his own blood and was found dead the next morning.

Horace Wells:
Pioneered the use of anesthesia in the 1840s
How he died: Used anesthetics to commit suicide.
While experimenting with various gases during his anesthesia research, Wells became addicted to chloroform. In 1848 he was arrested for spraying two women with sulfuric acid. In a letter he wrote from jail, he blamed chloroform for his problems, claiming that he'd gotten high before the attack. Four days later he was found dead in his cell. He'd anaesthetized himself with chloroform and slashed open his thigh with a razor.

Jerome Irving Rodale:
Founding father of the organic food movement, creator of "Organic Farming and Gardening" magazine, and founder of Rodale Press, a major publishing corporation.
How he died: On the "Dick Cavett Show", while discussing the benefits of organic foods.
Rodale, who bragged "I'm going to live to be 100 unless I'm run down by a sugar-crazed taxi driver," was only 72 when he appeared on the "Dick Cavett Show" in January 1971. Part way through the interview, he dropped dead in his chair. Cause of death: heart attack. The show was never aired.

Jim Fixx:
Author of the best selling "Complete Book of Running," which started the jogging craze of the 1970s.
How he died: A heart attack....while jogging
Fixx was visiting Greensboro, Vermont when he walked out of his house and began jogging. He'd only gone a short distance when he had a massive coronary. His autopsy revealed that one of his coronary arteries was 99% clogged, another was 80% obstructed, and a third was 70% blocked....and that Fixx had had three other attacks in the weeks prior to his death.

Sincerest apologies if you find none of the above the least bit funny.

I'm a horrible person,

Matt

Stream Of Conciousness

2006-12-06T23:39:00.000-05:00

I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been suffering through some serious blogging inconsistency the past while, a slump as they might say in professional circles, and therefore have been very rarely sharing thoughts. This wasn't always the case as I did at one point maintain my own private space, but I think this blogollective has had a negative effect on my motivation to write. Why share my musings when there is plenty oppurtunity for my friends to do so in the very same space? That's a good question, and you may be asking yourself the very same after reading this entry...

Well I've decided to make a change; consider this the start of a renewed commitment to my online audience. A chance to get back into my prime and seize back the fame and fortune I could once call my own as one of the self-proclaimed elite writers of this illiterate generation.

I think that last sentence got a little carried away.

I just write because it's relaxing and I enjoy it. I hope you do too.

I have a good friend Jer who innocently asked me last week in the cafeteria if there would ever be a situation where I would do cocaine. Pondering my answer I immediately realized that this conversation could get extremely awkward due to the prescence of a third party; a crazy girl who I've only met once before, but talked to long enough to realize she's wouldn't be afraid to jump all over me if I said something dumb. As I grabbed a brownie for dessert I mentally cycled through several situations, eventually deciding to share the least shameful one; that I would do coke in order to save my family from a deadly Cuban drug Cartel who forced me to do so in order to secure their freedom. Proud of myself for avoiding what could've been an embarassing situation I could only later laugh at Jer's response.

Jer: I was gonna say I would do coke in the middle of the Caribbean, on a yacht, off a supermodel's sweaty washboard abs.

Me: Oh. Oh yeah... That too. That one must have slipped my mind...

Awkward.

Matt - Substance Free and Somewhat Cool

A Hint...

2006-12-04T23:16:00.000-05:00

As a hint of things to come...

I was watching a concert today on TV and had a thought...

Wouldn't it be hilarious if a professional concert conductor developed a wild twitch during the show? My hope would be whoever plays the tuba would assume it was an indication of the necessity for an impromptu ten minute solo, while spinning in only underwear.

Wild comedy would ensue, as it will when I add a full entry...

Matt

a new home...

2006-11-28T20:43:00.000-05:00

Our good friend Alison has a new home at wordpress. It's no google relative, but it'll do ;)

She's a talented lady and a lovely writer. She sings too!

Her info has been updated to the right - check it out!

On behalf of all the horses - we love Alison!

C

Fear and Loathing in Hagersville

2006-11-26T18:44:00.000-05:00

Do excuse my prolonged absence lady and gents. I was in the process of storing food for my long winter hibernation and got lost in the wild of living... but not living wildy... I'm not into that kind of thing.

Truth is, this cockeyed Canadian lifestyle was getting to me and I had to find some solace in Las Vegas for nine days. I can't say much about that vacation (Golden Rule of LV), but I will say that whoever thought of having a bikini contest involving a mechanical bull was a genius. I think I will put a mechanical bull in the living room of my house, and when I have guests over, we will have competitions.

Last night I went to a wedding with my partner in crime James Douglas Miller. His name tag said 'Michael Gowing's Guest', which I translated to meaning 'Michael Gowing's Property' ... so I forced him to shine my shoes and get me dancing partners (he's very good at that). When I would inevitably scare the girls away or offend them in some way, it was also his responsibility to apologize on behalf of me and my obscenities.

Cupcakes and chocolate fountains are what makes my world go round.

The M. Horse

Warning: the following contains potty humour

2006-11-23T21:29:00.000-05:00

This is one of my favorite movie quotes of all time:

Sheriff of Rottingham: Sire, I have news!
Prince John: And what sort of news do you have? It's not bad news, is it? You know I can't take bad news. The day started out so good. I had a good night's sleep, I had a good B.M. I don't want to hear any bad news. So, what kind of news is it?
Sheriff of Rottingham: Well, to be perfectly frank, it's bad.

B.M. is such a funny word. And as far as I know this is the only time it has ever been used in comedy. I don't remember much from 1993, but I do remember thinking "Man, that's a funny word, that word should be used more often." I've been waiting 13 years.

Waiting is a tough thing to do. I've been waiting a lot recently. In fact the only reason I'm writing this post is because I'm waiting. Waiting. You know what was another funny movie? Old school.

-js

Francine Finds Frappucinos

2006-11-22T23:00:00.000-05:00

Last night I became a member.

Membership is a weird thing. Joining a group of people can be scary. They might, oh just for example, forget your group for swaths of time at a ... time. One time I joined Margaret Laurence fan club because I thought some of the girls were cute. But then they all got enamoured with Pete Richardson in the Margaret Atwood fan club and switched loyalties. I spent three wednesday lunches alone with the well aged Ms. Mackenzie ("leatherpants Mackenzie" we called her. *shudder*) before admitting to myself they weren't coming back. Fie on you Pete Richardson.

Another time I joined the weaving club. I thought I was going to learn how to drive dangerously on the highway. I still have an impeccable driving record. Except for failing my driving test for going too slow. True story.

Seriously though, I think there just aren't enough clubs for people who want to compliment, date, or give money to me.

-jonovision

People who are making my life more difficult

2006-11-12T00:53:00.000-05:00

No 1. Nik Antropov.

I've hated you for a long time Antropov. Sure, you're no Aki Berg, but you're still a terrible waste of a 10th overall pick. When you got injured I was happy, becuase it meant players like Wellwood would get quality Sundin time, and it paid off. Then you got healthy and wormed your way back onto the top line. But you did something unexpected, you started scoring. This was tough for me to take because though I want the leafs to win, I didn't want it to be because of a talentless oaf like yourself. But then Saturday happend. On Saturday you carried the puck into the zone all by yourself, made a move, and fired a blazing wrister from the top of the circle. You impressed me. I haven't felt this emotionally conflicted since my favorite band ever - Sum 41 - invited me backstage the same day Avril Lavigne told me she would no longer be bothering to turn down my requests for a date because she'd found someone.

No. 2 An unnamed Friend

I have this friend, a good friend, a friend who has been close to me for years now, who I've seen once in the last five months despite spending most of that time in the same city as him. Every time I invite him out he is busy, which is bizarre because despite a charming personality he's never been the most social of individuals. I'm convinced its either illegal activity or a girl, but seeing as he's been known to shy away from both (or they from him - oh, burn!) I think the answer is behind mystery door number three: He's actually a very incompetent spy for the Kremlin and hasn't figured out that 1) the cold war is over and the USSR dissolved 2) waffles, quite simply, do not count as a complete meal, even with maple syrup.

No. 3 the creators of Lost.

Seriously guys. You're fall from glory has been more spectacular than Tom Cruise or Britney Spears, and I don't see a Pop Princess-esque coming for either you or shortstuff. I mean, I'm more emotionally invested in the plot twists of The Office than your once spectacularly addicting program. For shame.

No 4. Mikthew Gowington.

Seriously guys. I miss you. Though it is some solace that your names fit together so well you can't tell who the 'ing' is from in Gowington.

No 5. Jon Sinclair

Last week I bought a chicken schnitzel sandwich and an egg salad sandwich. I often buy two 'wiches and save one for 4:00 snack time. But I forgot to eat said egg salad sandwich. Next day at lunch there he was, sitting in my drawer. Without thinking I downed half. With thinking I paused before starting in on the second half, smelled it, and realized that unlike wine and episodes of Seinfeld, egg salad does not get better with age.

"Pastries and pomegrantes pontificate on postmodernity"
-JS

P.S. Listen to this great rap on Tetris. Songstowearpantsto has it going on.

but, seriously...

2006-11-08T15:16:00.000-05:00

ok, the realization has begun to really sink in: i have less than a month to get every piece of work that my first semester grades are based on, in to my profs. this translates into roughly 50+ pages of writing, filming/editing/putting up an interactive cooking website, and one more presentation. in the meantime, i am collaborating on a bunch of other things that are outside the scope of school marks, all of which are taking up considerable amounts of time. don't worry, i still manage to find time to waste watching reruns of friends, though. all is not lost.

so here i am: on the 4th floor of Stauffer library, trying to do research on how Foucauldian theory might link to modern day blogging...i'm feeling more than a little overwhelmed...and the secret's out - i'm terrible at coping with life when i feel overwhelmed. i stare out windows, and feel guilty of the time wasted; i feel further behind. i start to cry, but then realise that i don't have time to, and that's even more sad. i wish for hugs and warm blankets and my work to disappear...and i know that won't happen, and have some sort of inkling that somehow my character is in fact benefitting from all of the stress...but it doesn't make it any more pleasant, you know?

my break/tirade is over. i will go back to listening to The Kings of Convenience, and reading the Fibreculture Journal...here is a poem i wrote in 5 seconds, about 5 minutes ago.
hopefully i feel differently tomorrow.

it's coming down in thin, linear rivulets
out the window
the gravel and the pavement are wet
i wait for life
to stop escaping me
in the same manner.

The Pale Horse

Words fail me.

2006-10-27T01:02:00.000-04:00

http://video.google.ca/videoplay?docid=-3382491587979249836&q=hasselhoff

except for the words "the" and "dopest"

haha. "well I ain't... YAAAAA!"

1800 Hasselhoff is the dopest. "Hasselhoff"

2006-10-22T00:12:00.000-04:00

You should check out the site www.songstowearpantsto.com . He is my friend's brother who is now my friend and writes songs about whatever people want for a living. He wrote a song about david hasselhoff. You should check it out. I think I'm going to ask him to write one about this post. (N.B. Pale horse, I can't figure the heck out how to add to the links section. Do you mind throwing this precious pearl up there?)

A friend of mine made said something to me today. "I don't have any christian friends do introduce you to, but I do know a lot of HOT heathens". The first thing I thought of was hot (as in sexy) hearths, until I realized the hilarity of my unintentional pun and blacked out from humour overload.

Here's the thing about hot heathens(male of female). If you were to play hockey against them or sing them a song over the telephone their hotness wold be entirely inconsequential. Yet their heathenness could inspire them to stick their stick in that little space in your skate blade or set the phone down next to a stereo playing Stephen Harper & The California Raisins' 13th LP - Penulimate Skullduggery: The Death Metal years collection. Either would totally ruin the moment.

So you don't want the heathenness. Just the hotness. But stoves are just hot, and let me tell you, the sooner you learn not to touch the stove the better.

So I guess that leaves us with nothing. Which is where I was before the hot heathens. It would appear this has been an exercise in futility, but we all know appearances can be deceiving.

Musing In The Rain, Pt. Two

2006-10-19T15:45:00.000-04:00

While I was walking to class the other day, in the rain yet again, I had a bit of a caniption. However, for this caniption to be as jarring to you as it was to me, I have to give the audience some background info.

- I am a pretty scrawny guy and I don't often win when wrestling, especially against other people.

With that in mind it came to my attention that I probably could beat up the guy who invented the umbrella, as well as the majority of guys who use umbrellas, despite the fact they are human beings with all their parts in working order.

My reasoning is as follows; any man who went to the lengths of inventing a tool to prevent himself from getting wet from a little rain must be a wuss. If this guy was afraid of the rain and getting wet then I probably would win in the fight's first thirty seconds. Now, when sharing this with my housemate who was walking down the street with me at the time, he offered the thought that umbrellas were first used to protect people from the sun, probably in a wussy country like France. Since this is an unconfirmed rumour, I can only comment on the possibility of it being true; but if that is the case I could take on the all the French guys who invented umbrellas because they were afraid of the sun with both my right limbs tied to a large tree.

Next time I'm out in the rain I'm going to yell things like "C'mon precipitation, bring it!", "Is that all you got?", and "I wish you were acid rain so I could at least feel like I was being tickled, you wussy atmospheric downpour!" as part of my training. And if anyone with an umbrella passes me they'll most likely cower in fear before I beat the lack of water from the rain right into them.

I also decided on the way home after seeing a guy walking in the rain with only a T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops on that he was probably braver than I and could beat me up. That, or he's from a parallel universe where they wear rain gear in the sun and summer clothes during cold monsoons; Probably the latter, because ever since I started beating up umbrella toters I've gotten to be quite a tank.

In fact, I just tore numerous holes in my T-shirt typing this entry...

Matt

Only a Steel Man can be a Lover

2006-10-15T17:01:00.000-04:00

I’m really glad Superman’s not a home-wrecker. I think I would have lost a lot of respect for him.

My brother Matt and I watched ‘Superman Returns’ last night at some back alley theater in Brampton with sticky floors and Christmas lights on the walls. It was only a 3$ cover so I’m not complaining. Plus I snuck in a ‘Jr Burger’ and a cup of ‘Great Biggie’ french fries from Wendies instead of paying 6 bucks for popcorn, so it made it all worthwhile …(but I ended up buying the popcorn anyway because I’m a sucker… as soon as it hits your nostrils, it just smells so good).

I thought Kevin Spacey was his usual amazing self as Lex Luther. I did find Brandon Routhe as Superman a little off at times; I think its because his face seemed digitally animated in every second shot. And possibly because he reminded me too much of Christopher Reeve. Despite this, however, I still thought it was marvelous.

I don’t remember Superman and Lois ever ‘consummating’ any kind of relationship though, and so was a little concerned at the super-boy twist in the plot, (I can’t have movies diverting from the original plot history). So, I asked my brother (who, when we were younger, was forced to watch all the Superman movies multiple times whenever it was my turn to pick the movie) about this after the show, and he confirmed that they actually did ‘do it’ in Superman II. Though he didn’t really understand what exactly they were doing, just that the bed looked really comfortable.

I guess I don’t mind if Superman has a bastard son, it’s just gonna take some getting used to… but the next Superman movie better not be a courtroom custody battle starring Richard Gere or I’ll be miffed.

Mike.

Rhyme Time!

2006-10-15T15:13:00.000-04:00

Hey folks,

It's been awhile, and I have twenty minutes to spare, so I thought I'd just share a fun game with you I've been playing for a little while in my head (no girls allowed). It's called Rhyme Time and it's really simple, I just rhyme things that are prominently featured on this blog like...

Matt - Phat, Cat, Phat Cat,
Mike - Strike(-out), Tyke, Pike
Jon - Pawn, (smellyshoe-)Spawn, Bon-Bon
Cas - Bass, Pass, (boring-)Class
Ablogolypse - Fish, North Korea, Pint, Orange, Antidisestablishmentarianism

As you can see, I still need some improvement. But on a lighter note, I'm sorry if my conterparts are the slightest bit offended by this, but maybe you should consult with your parents on not choosing names that so conveniently rhyme with derogatory things (and this is the PG version).

All joking aside, I really enjoy sharing this spot with you three and am sorry that a lack of ideas resulted in my writing at your expense.

Still friends?

Matt

Pog on the blog

2006-10-14T13:15:00.000-04:00

I found a pog in my closet yesterday. How does something of mine that I haven't seen or thought about in ten years, and have no emotional attachement to, survive more than a decade of storage and two moves? And it wasn't like I found my pogs, no, just the one. This pog, Jurassic Pog, has, unlike his namesake, survived pog extinction, kind of like the loch ness monster, which does really exist, btw, and now I don't know what to do with it. Or with all those commas. My first instinct was to frame it, but then I realized that I might be able to exploit this for my own romantic benefit.

You see, whenever something freakish from another era is discovered, the public goes nuts and tries to kill it. So the nerdy guy and the hot girl first hide it, then they convince the public of it's harmlessness. The public changes their mind, accepts the freakish creature, and the guy gets the girl. You may say this is what happens in the movies, not in reality, but I can't tell the difference.

Last night there was this girl at the bar in red heels who we kept referring to as dorothy. Turned out to be a mistake when I ended up talking to her later and went "So dorothy, what do you do" and she "No, its Kathryn. I'm student here at U of T." "Sorry. So Caitlyn, what are you studying?"

I'm so smooth I can use a dry slip n'slide.

Idea Sniper Strikes Again...

2006-10-11T15:01:00.000-04:00

It seems that my idea sniping ways have indeed transferred from my individual blog, to this bloglective. However, upon reading this and this, I think you'll see why I found it necessary to re-post.

I am intrigued by TheStory...I have no idea if it's actually supposed to be one word, but it looks cool, so I'll go with yes. I am also so incredibly fortunate to be a part of the lives - to varying degrees - of the people that NC is speaking of. I am proud of the work that they do, and humbled that I have the opportunity to be a part of it. There is a home to be found at Next, and a family. There is an adventure taking place at Rustle, and a lot of movement. They are absolutely changing the world, and everyone is invited to be changed with them...

Thanks to them for that, thanks to God for sure, and thanks to NC for wanting to live it out loud in other places.

Cas

The Red Horse Burst Upon the Scene

2006-10-04T10:24:00.000-04:00

Okay, I'm here! I'm here! What happened?

Alright, I'm sorry... I'm late. But I'm here, ready to blow your collective minds with Apocolyptic Blogmanship like only the Red Horse can.

How about a story?

So, I have a confession to make. I've been roofing for the past month. Yes, laugh it up, "Mike spent 5 years at university to become a roofer."

Roofing is how I put myself through those 5 years of university so I have no shame in saying it.

The truth is it's actually an alright job... I'm essentially working for myself, which means I'm my own boss, which means I can take holidays whenever I see fit.... like next month for example, when I'll be going to Las Vegas for 9 days (who's laughing now)..... AND, I can make enough money for that tummy tuck I've always wanted.

I've also been working with two of my brothers, which has been a lot o' good ol' fashion fun. We get along real well; the only yelling we do are Robert Goulet quotes (SNL style) from opposite sides of the roof.

Right, so this story doesn't have much of a point. Actually its not even much of a story... more of a confession. You get the point - I live at home, I've yet to use my education to do any meaningful work, I take extravagant holidays for no reason.

This is the life of the Red Horseman

Musing In The Rain

2006-10-02T23:44:00.000-04:00

The other day when I was walking home from the gym I happened to spy the most peculiar thing at one street corner. Let me set the stage for this bizarre event by telling you that it was dull, dreary, and most importantly a very rainy day. As I stood waiting for the light of the intersection to change I glanced to my left and noticed that out front of a fairly large apartment building a man was standing and using a hose. Upon further inspection I noted several weird things about the situation. Here they are in order of weirdness, with an accompanying rating on the scale of 1 - Weird.

The guy was wearing only a small T-shirt in pouring rain - 1
The guy was using a super-extra-strength-double-decker hose - 2 point Strange
The guy was watering something with said hose in pouring rain - 5 and 1/2 Odd
The guy was not in fact watering anything organic or alive, but instead drenching a puddle in the middle of the asphalt - 8 dash Bizarre
The guy was watering a chunk of pavement, and mostly a puddle for that matter, in POURING RAIN, with a gigantic hose while wearing only a T-shirt - 10 decimal Mind-Blowingly Unbelievable

Rather than continue the journey home once my chance to cross the street came, I decided to remain at the corner for a little while to see if I could gain a little more understanding as to the point of this guy's endeavour. Alas, I learned nothing, except that toting a fire hose in a small T-shirt is a good way to pick up passing girls despite the fact the use of both items is straight up crazy; lesson learned.

I then spent some time on my walk home thinking of what some other pointless/weird things to do during a downpour would be. Here is a list:

Wash a car, especially one that didn't belong to you
Dry clothes on a clothesline, particularly if they were already dry
Make a fire, extra points for not using gasoline, a lighter, or matches
Sweat
Wear sunglasses
Have a competition with a friend to see who can stay dry longest outside
Tan
Build a sandcastle
Try not to grow an entire army of Sea Monkeys
Complain about how hot and sunny it is outside
Write a treasure map revealing the location of millions of dollars using washable marker on toilet paper
Wish aloud that the ongoing drought would stop

I can't wait to see what strange things I witness the next time it rains in Kingston, which will probably be about two minutes ago.

Matt, the guy who dislikes Lake Effect Precipitation... unless it's snow... in that case he's okay with it.

A New Era Begins...

2006-09-30T22:51:00.000-04:00

Due to the fact Mike has yet to publish a thought regarding the following topic, and also because The Girl mistakenly gave credit to someone where no credit was in fact deserved (jerkface-girlsnot...), I believe it is my sincere pleasure to reveal the reason behind the name of our conglomeration.

There once was a time when the other three blogging amateurs were able to attend the same church in Kingston as I, that would be Next Church for those keeping score at home, and Next proposed that all the folks that attended post links to their blogs on the church website. After each member of our team followed my lead and created blogs of their own to unintentionally make mine look much, much wittier I proposed we submit the web addresses to all our sites as a group, with the heading on the Next website as "The Four Horsepeople of the Ablogolypse".

This was my idea for a few reasons; one, I'm a huge sucker for wordplay - it is most definitely not coincidental that pun and fun only differ by one letter. Two, since I'm an apocolyptic prophet I have a hard time getting the thought of Earth's impending doom (July 8 2010; book it) at the hands of our Maker out of my head. (Kidding, the End Times are going to be wild, so don't miss out, and while you're at it bring a camera, a box of kleenex, 3-D Glasses, and a vacuum) Three, since there's The Girl, and I make a living out of being politically correct, Horsemen was replaced by the more apt "Horsepeople". The previous reasons are the three ingredients for what I consider a metaphorically delicious blog cake with chocolate icing and unending entertainment baked right in.

In time this idea proved to be inconsequential, as nothing was done about the addition to the Next website and the four of us were left with a witty pun as a private joke. Until the day the web design team at MSN Spaces made a mistake which ended up costing them their most talented four bloggers and the idea for a family blog named The Four Horsepeople of the Ablogolypse (said in deep echoing voice, with accompanying trumpets, and visions of Earth's destruction by a meteor of HTML) was born. And we find ourselves here, with much more to say and much fewer sites to read it on. Four cheers for increased efficiency!

Finally, I leave you with the summary of a comment Mike left on my original blog one day. It reveals our true Ablogolypse Horseperson identity. It's like the alter-ego of a superhero, except rather than a mild-mannered office worker with glasses and messy hair, ours are destructive, world-ending, Biblical demons with bad tempers. Yeah!

Matt - The White Horse; not sure why, but I get to conquer stuff with a bow and a crown, which sounds kind of cool.
The Girl - The Pale Horse; for obvious reasons
Mike - The Fiery Red Horse that Removes Peace from the Earth; typecasting we know, but it's his nature
Jon - The Black Horse of Pestilence; key word being "pest"

So there you have it folks. Keep checking in and enjoy our thoughts, as well as the manic, burning, devastation we leave in our path as we symbolize the end of web logs everywhere.

Or something like that...

Matt

Lost in Translation

2006-09-30T16:47:00.000-04:00

A few months ago I sat beside a guy with one of those personal dvd players on the train. He had a second headphone jack so i joined him in watching the very mediocre film, Poseidon. What was great though, was that it was an illegal copy which had obviously been subtitled into japanese, and then had the subtitles retranslated into english so the every time i got bored with the movie, i would try and follow along by reading the subtitles. For instance:

Kurt Russel: I'm your father and I say we're going now.
Subtitle: You are the offspring of my mother's son. Haste will be required. Now is the time haste is needed.

Now, we all know about engrish, but this was my first actual encounter with it. My second came yesterday. My dad had been to the wedding of the daughter of the guy who owns the Mandarins(don't ask), and was given a shirt. The shirt is in a bag which says:

"Classic wear
This garment is soft comfortable and srunk
THROUSH SPECIAL WASHING
Process natural andunique look actieved."

Fair enough. They could have used a dictionary, but at least I can understand it. What really impressed me was the note at the bottom:

"As if this change to there is man impersonation of too many role necessity in the tidewater life. "

Read it again. Now here's your question of the day, and I'm not being facetious. Is that a philosophical exposition, or washing instructions?

In The Beginning...

2006-09-29T17:36:00.000-04:00

Well, I have the distinct privelege of posting the first entry on our new blog collective...bloglective?

Anyway, we're hoping you're as glad to be here as we are. You will laugh, you will cry, you will smile and frown...you will wonder who the funniest of us is, and you will come to the conclusion that it is me, Cas - the one and only horseWOMAN of the ablogolypse.

I'll let Mike do the honours of explaining the title of our newest online (ad)venture, and in the meantime Jon, Mike, and Matt will be thinking of ways to outwit(ty) me. Unlikely.

Thanks for stopping by, please come back soon!

Cas

ps - you can check out our former individual blogs on the list to your right - the top four are us!