A.) Go to musicoutfitters.com
B.) Enter the year you graduated from high school in the search function and get the list of 100 most popular songs of that year
C.) Bold the songs you like, strike through the ones you hate and underline your favorite. Do nothing to the ones you don't remember (or don't care about).
So here we go...
Top 100 Hits of 1991
1. (Everything I Do) I Do It For You, Bryan Adams
3. Gonna Make You Sweat, C+C Music Factory
4. Rush Rush, Paula Abdul
5. One More Try, Timmy T
6. Unbelievable, EMF
8. I Like The Way (The Kissing Game), Hi-Five
9. The First Time, Surface
11. Motownphilly, Boyz II Men
12. Because I Love You (The Postman Song), Stevie B
13. Someday, Mariah Carey
14. High Enough, Damn Yankees
15. From A Distance, Liette Midler
17. Right Here, Right Now, Jesus Jones
18. I Adore Mi Amor, Color Me Badd
20. Good Vibrations, Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch Featuring Loleatta Holloway
22. Emotions, Mariah Carey
23. Joyride, Roxette
24. Romantic, Karyn White
26. Hold You Tight, Tara Kemp
28. Every Heartbeat, Amy Grant
29. Sensitivity, Ralph Tresvant
30. Touch Me (All Night Long), Cathy Dennis
31. I've Been Thinking About You, Londonbeat
32. Do Anything, Natural Selection
33. Losing My Religion, R.E.M.
35. Here We Go. C+C Music Factory
36. It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over, Lenny Kravitz
38. Summertime, D.J. Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince
39. Wind Of Change, Scorpions
40. P.A.S.S.I.O.N., Rhythm Syndicate
42. I'm Your Baby Tonight, Whitney Houston
43. Love Of A Lifetime, Firehouse
45. This House, Tracie Spencer
47. Power Of Love-Love Power, Luther Vandross
48. Impulsive, Wilson Phillips
49. Love Is A Wonderful Thing, Michael Bolton
50. Rhythm Of My Heart, Rod Stewart
51. Things That Make You Go Hmmmm..., C+C Music Factory
52. I Touch Myself, Divinyls
53. Tom's Diner, DMA
54. Iesha, Another Bad Creation
56. After The Rain, Nelson
58. Temptation, Corina
59. Can't Stop This Thing We Started, Bryan Adams
60. I Can't Wait Another Minute, Hi-Five
61. 3 A.M. Eternal, The KLF
63. Saideness Part I, Enigrna
64. Around The Way Girl, LL Cool J
66. Cream, Prince and The N.P.G.
67. Now That We Found Love, Heavy D. and The Boyz
68. Show Me The Way, Styx
70. Cry For Help, Rick Astley
71. The Way You Do The Things You Do, UB40
72. Here I Am (Come and Take Me), UB40
73. Signs, Tesla
74. Too Many Walls, Cathy Dennis
76. I'll Give All My Love To You, Keith Sweat
77. Place In This World, Michael W. Smith
78. Something To Believe In, Poison
79. Wicked Game, Chris Issak
80. Get Here, Oleta Adams
81. Round and Round, Tevin Campbell
82. Silent Lucidity, Queensryche
83. I'm Not In Love, Will To Power
84. Piece Of My Heart, Tara Kemp
85. Real Real Real, Jesus Jones
87. Just Another Dream, Cathy Dennis
88. Everybody Plays The Fool, Aaron Neville
88. Strike It Up, Black Box
89. Rico Suave, Gerardo
90. Disappear, INXS
91. Groove Is In The Heart, Deee-Lite
92. All This Time, Sting
93. The One and Only, Chesney Hawkes
94. O.P.P., Naughty By Nature
96. I Saw Red, Warrent
97. Miles Away, Winger
99. The Motown Song, Rod Stewart
100. Shiny Happy People, R.E.M.
Well, definitely not a lot of music from my high school days stays with my memory (and seeing as we all listened to Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd as opposed to the music of the time), I'm doing it for University now too.
Top 100 Hits of 1995
1. Gangsta's Paradise, Coolio
3. Creep, TLC
4. Kiss From A Rose, Seal
5. On Bended Knee, Boyz II Men
6. Another Night, Real McCoy
8. Take A Bow, Madonna
9. Don't Take It Personal (Just One Of Dem Days), Monica
10. This Is How We Do It, Montell Jordan
11. I Know, Dionne Farris
13. Freak Like Me, Adina Howard
14. Run-Around, Blues Traveler
15. I Can Love You Like That, All-4-One
16. Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?, Bryan Adams
17. Always, Bon Jovi
18. Boombastic / In The Summertime, Shaggy
21. You Are Not Alone, Michael Jackson
22. Hold My Hand, Hootie and The Blowfish
23. One More Chance-Stay With Me, Notorious B.I.G.
24. Here Comes The Hotstepper, Ini Kamoze
25. Candy Rain, Soul For Real
27. I Believe, Blessid Union Of Souls
29. Runaway, Janet Jackson
30. Strong Enough, Sheryl Crow
31. Colors Of The Wind, Vanessa Williams
32. Someone To Love, Jon B.
34. If You Love Me, Brownstone
35. In The House Of Stone And Light, Martin Page
36. I Got 5 On It, Luniz
38. Run Away, Real McCoy
39. As I Lay Me Down, Sophie B. Hawkins
40. He's Mine, Mokenstef
41. December, Collective Soul
42. I'll Be There For You-You're All I Need To Get By, Method Man-Mary J. Blige
43. Shy Guy, Diana King
44. I'm The Only One, Melissa Etheridge
45. Every Little Thing I Do, Soul For Real
46. Before I Let You Go, BLACKstreet
47. Big Poppa / Warning, Notorious B.I.G.
48. Sukiyaki, 4 P.M.
50. I'll Make Love To You, Boyz II Men
51. Dear Mama / Old School, 2Pac
52. Hold On, Jamie Walters
53. Keep Their Heads Ringin', Dr. Dre
54. The Rhythm Of The Night, Corona
55. Roll To Me, Del Amitri
57. Freek'n You, Jodeci
58. I Wish, Skee-lo
59. Believe, Elton John
60. Carnival, Natalie Merchant
61. You Don't Know How It Feels, Tom Petty
62. Back For Good, Take That
64. You Want This-70's Love Groove, Janet Jackson
65. Tell Me, Groove Theory
66. Can't You See, Total
67. All I Wanna Do, Sheryl Crow
68. This Lil' Game We Play, Subway
69. Come And Get Your Love, Real McCoy
70. This Ain't A Love Song, Bon Jovi
72. Player's Anthem, Junior M.A.F.I.A.
73. Feel Me Flow, Naughty By Nature
74. Every Day Of The Week, Jade
75. The Sweetest Days, Vanessa Williams
76. Short Dick Man, 20 Fingers Featuring Gillette
78. No More "I Love You's", Annie Lennox
79. You Used To Love Me, Faith Evans
80. Constantly, Immature
81. Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me, U2
82. 100% Pure Love, Crystal Waters
83. Ask Of You, Raphael Saadiq
84. Sugar Hill, Az
85. Good, Better Than Ezra
86. Brown Sugar, D'angelo
88. 'Til You Do Me Right, After 7
89. 1st Of Tha Month, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony
90. Like The Way I Do If I Wanted To, Melissa Etheridge
91. I Live My Life For You, Firehouse
92. Dream About You-Funky Melody, Stevie B
93. Cotton Eye Joe, Rednex
95. I'll Stand By You, Pretenders
96. I Miss You, N II U
97. Give It 2 You, Da Brat
99. Misery, Soul Asylum
100. Can't Stop Lovin' You, Van Halen
Ok, that experiment failed. Seems I just don't like the music of the times. I'm caught in some bizzare time warp. It figures, since my playliests are all retro 80's, early 90's alternative, 70's and 60's rock.
Yup, for those of you who follow the melodrama that is my life in film, yes, the Vancouver set electrics favourite person, Zane, to my delight, was present on the day call I had for Smallville today.
To bring all of you who are shaking your heads, Zane is probably best described the same way Luke Skywalker described Tatooine. "If there is a bright centre to the Universe, you're on the planet that is farthest from." Zane, to put it mildly, isn't that sharp, and is rather lazy to boot. My last encounter with this highly unique individual saw him show up to set an hour and a half late (though he was at crew park and catering on time), and made the excuse that we were in a cell unfriendly zone, and had to call his mom to call the union dispatch office to make sure he was made available for the next day. Well, the Gaffer and Best Boy got verbal with him, and when he got angry and swore like mad, he got fired.
Today was no different. He was on time though (one of very few differences), but as things started to roll, Zane was magically absent. Of all the stories I heard about him, he seems to disappear to the Craft Service table, constantly on his phone. Well, today was no different. He was supposed to help the Genny Op lay out the power and such, to which he refused to do it. Half an hour into the day, and the Gaffer and Genny Op were attempting to fire him already. Then Zane threatened to shoot the Genny Op. I shit you not, I was within earshot. Zane was mad, swearing, and trying to egg the Genny Op into a fight, but nobody would be phased by his bag of poor tricks. Zane was fired on the spot, though still paid for eight hours, and escorted from the set, and arrangements were made that he never work on the show again.
What an idiot. But in retrospect, I just wonder...
1. He has been kicked out of IATSE before for "anger management" issues. If one does not learn from history, one is doomed to repeat it.
2. Any anger management work he has done has been completely in vain.
3. If it wasn't for his father being a well known name, he'd never work in this business in the first place.
4. Maybe his whole plan was just to get paid 8 hours for doing next to nothing on a daily basis.
But hey, I not only worked 14 hours today, I got called back. Nothing like a good attitude and work ethic.
Ahh, the joys of surfing blogs. Over at Samantha Burns' blog this saucy, Canuck supporting (well, Canadians, I don't know which hockey club she supports) has posted this, which proves Canada is ready to strike the low alcohol tolerance folks down in the United States.
Geez, I wish I found this post earlier.
Yup, working in film kills brain cells. Especially shows like Smallville, where it's the last season, and people don't care so much there.
Meh. At least the call is 10 AM, and I get some rest first.
Nothing like a identifiable set of last words. Take the following into consideration.
Today, Serena Williams, amongst the top female tennis players on the planet, felt the absolute desire to wear gaudy, expensive earrings in her first round of the US Open. How expensive? Forty thousand dollars worth. Just to bring this to scale, her earrings are worth more than her opponent, Yung-Jan Chan of Taiwan, has made in her lifetime competing in professional tennis.
Needless to say, one of her earrings fell out, which prompted the remainder of the attention of the match to that, and the cost.
Now, before I go any further, I would like to say, that as a top world athlete, I would assume that the lesson of grace being the better part of valour is a lesson that should have been learned by this point. One must be graceful in their defeats to learn from them and advance beyond.
Anyhow, after the match, Serena was interviewed, on court, through the loudspeakers, and was asked a question about her Preciousssss... erm, I mean earrings, and the issue of their cost outweighing the entire earnings of her opponents, dear, loveable Serena had but one thing to say.
"I've gotta have the bling."
Can you say OOOOOOOPS. Serena did, as soon as her brain re-engaged, prompted by the chorus of boos from the fans, you know, us loveable sods who don't have forty grand to blow on bling. Let alone having forty grand in the first place.
And I always wondered why I wasn't such a huge tennis fan.
Ahh yes, no business or industry is complete without it's own set of perks. Even though businesses legally are people, with pyschopathic and sociopathic behaviour patterns, they still do things to keep people happy. Casual Fridays. Christmas parties. Paid vacation. Lunch breaks. And the whole lot. I still like the perks in the film industry the best.
1. Two square meals a day on set, not out of your own pocket (well, breakfast if you show up for your call early enough).God I love rigging calls for just that. All the work, all the pay, but only 1/100th of the stress.
2. Legalized jay-walking.
3. The ability to tell your boss to fuck off (oh wait, that's for Zane).
4. Large paycheck.
5. All the coffee/tea/water/milk/pop/whatever you can drink.
6. The cool factor at parties, saying "I work in film", even though all I do right now is route power, wrap and unwrap cable, and move lights and stands around.
7. And, as of today, since all calls are paid for a minimum of 8 hours, be able to work five or six hours, and get paid $204.07 for the experience.
"There's no trace of them sir."
Which leads to such a great line.
"I will assume full responsibility for losing them, and apologize to Lord Vader"
- Captain Needa.
Yes, we all know what happens next.
Yes, the faithful words of the eternally damned Imperial officer who fails Vader. Being without a DVD player (or my DVD collection, which will soon be shipped out to the wonderful world of Vancouver), and the fact the Yorkshire Angel, my ray of sunshine, doesn't have the urge to watch Episode III again, I'm having occasional Star Wars withdrawal.
Thank you CBC for airing the trilogy on Sunday nights.
Apology accepted, Captain Needa
As for me, off to think of something to post for Fictional Fridays, and as an added bonus (though don't get your hopes up for an early release), I'm going to work on bringing an earlier story to the 'net screen.
Photoblasted from everyone linked through Fictional Fridays.
| John Wayne |
You scored 59% Tough, 4% Roguish, 28% Friendly, and 9% Charming!
You, my friend, are a man's man, the original true grit, one tough
talking, swaggering son of a bitch. You're not a bad guy, on the
contrary, you're the ultimate good guy, but you're one tough character,
rough and tumble, ready for anything. You call the shots and go your
own way, and if some screwy dame is willing to accept your terms,
that's just fine by you. Otherwise, you'll just hit the open trail and
stay true to yourself. You stand up for what you believe and can handle
any situation, usually by rushing into the thick of the action. You're
not polished and you're not overly warm, but you're a straight shooter
and a real stand up guy. Co-stars include Lauren Bacall and Maureen
O'Hara, tough broads who can take care of themselves.
|My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:|
|Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on Ok Cupid|
"Three... two... one... and wide awake!"
Jane lifted her head slowly, opened her eyes, and looked around the dim room. Dr. Pollard flipped the light switch, illuminating his office, and the reclining chair Jane was still slumped in. She sat upright, and brushed her hair out of her face, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
"Let me get something, I'll be right back," remarked Dr. Pollard as he left the room. Jane began to look around the room once he was gone. It seemed to be a psychologist's office, though Jane could not make heads or tails why she was there. Several degree plaques decorated the wall behind his desk, a spiral wheel, and many books decorated the rest of the office.
WHAM! The door flew open with a bolt, as Dr. Pollard returned. Jane was shaken by the noise, and spun around to see the Doctor, holding a package of cigarettes. "Sorry about that, I can never get anyone to fix that awful door properly."
"You were supposed to be getting something" inquired Jane, as Dr. Pollard drew a cigarette from his pack, preparing to light it. He paused, looking inquisitively at Jane, and then looked at his cigarette. "Would you like one, Jane?"
"Well, um..., sure." Jane took the cigarette from Dr. Pollard, brought it to her lips, but could not light it. She struggled to bring her right hand, holding the lighter, to her face to light the smoke, but could not physically bring the arm up.
"Uh, Dr. What was your name again?" Jane was so puzzled that nothing was clear.
"Dr. Pollard. It seems you still don't remember much."
"I remember you were going to help me stop smoking. It seems you've..."
"Done the trick? Well, hypnosis has that effect. Some people remember everything. Some people, such as yourself, go so deep that your memory of what happens while under hypnosis tends to be affected."
"So am I cured?" questioned Jane, with eagerness in her voice.
"I'm afraid not entirely. I've given you help to keep you from smoking, but there's still more we have to open up. You see, the mind has limitless possibilities that we still cannot comprehend. Hypnosis is a form that opens the mind to such possibilities. If we open it too far, we cannot predict the effect, whether it be good or bad."
Dr. Pollard led Jane down the hallway of his building to the elevator. Along the way, a figure passed them going the opposite direction, a shining, bright, white light. Jane stopped in her tracks, and watched the gleaming presence pass them down the hall.
"Jane, what's wrong?" inquired Dr. Pollard.
"Didn't you see that?"
"See what? Jane, I think you need to go home and get some rest. You've had quite a day."
"I'm beginning to agree with you. So same time next week?"
"I'll be here."
Jane entered the elevator, went to the main floor, and proceeded to exit the building. As she looked up from zipping her winter coat, she could not believe the sight before her, in the twilight before sunset. Dozens of glowing, white figures moving around the roads with the pedestrians and cars.
Jane shook her head, convinced this must be a side effect of the hypnosis session. She made her way down the street, passing both people who appeared normal and these glowing white figures. She continued, with each step becoming more nervous and curious, until one glowing figure was marching right toward her. Jane tried to move out of the way, but the figure kept moving toward her until Jane's panic overtook her and froze her in place. The white figure walked right into her and suddenly everything became black.
* * *
"Miss Duncan, you're home." assured Officer Smith, as Jane realized she was at her apartment door, propped up by a tall, strong plain-clothed officer.
"I just need some rest." Jane found her keys, opened the door. "Have a good day, Miss Duncan." And with that wish, Officer Smith left Jane alone.
Jane, however, was still quite nervous. She shut her front door very silently, and moved around her apartment with stealth. She carefully checked cupboards, drawers, closets, and rooms with extreme stealth, only to be relieved when nothing appeared, and was more relieved when she noticed no other white figures roaming around. Jane wiped some sweat from her brow, when she noticed dirt on her hand.
"Must have been when I fell."
Jane made her way to the washroom, and started cleansing her face. Her calmness quickly became horror as she looked into the mirror, to find the face of her deceased mother staring back at her.
Copyright 2005 by Jeff Vickers
Maybe it's my pining for a gig with X-Men 3. But, alas, the Yorkshire Angels blog has gone the way of the Dodo. In it's place, it has become the Retarded Rugrat. Go check it out, and let my partner know what you think.
Yep, stresses flared last night, as I ended up working too long and not being able to celebrate the Yorkshire Angel's birthday, and as such, went and spent a lovely day at Cypress Provincial Patk, just north of West Vancouver today. Pictures to follow tomorrow (hopefully).
As such, we spent a couple of hours at the mall, and visited PetCetera. Noticed this foot to foot and a half long fish in there. I've only seen large fish like that in a museum (yup I'm not much of a fisherman, you can even tell with my luck crab fishing), and written on the label on the tank, were the words: fish has been microchipped.
What the duece? Who the hell loses a fish?
Happy Birthday to the one I love, the one who makes it all worthwhile, who gives me meaning, hope, and the power to make both our lives better each day. You fill me with love, strength, and hope each and every day. Even when we are apart, you are still there inside my heart, urging me on.
I love you Dawn, now, and always.
As my grey matter slowly transforms back into a solid state, now working on days, I caught some interesting banter on Jack FM, about a movie made (at least in part) by a UBC student, entitled The Corporation. The basic gist of the film was this. Since a corporation is legally treated the same as an individual, a pyschologist decided to profile characteristic of all these legal people, determining what typical character traits exist within the beast of the corporation.
The film's conclusions? Corporations, typically, are PSYCOPATHS. Insert looks of horror here. And when I say horror, I really mean...
TOLD YOU SO!
Not a big surprise to this satirical mind. Hell, 1/2 the corporations in America (and could be Canada too) take out life insurance on their own employees. They call it dead peasants insurance. Essentially, if you work for one of these companies, and die, the companies make money on the insurance, and none of you family sees a penny.
Makes this man
not look quite so bad.
Then it reminded me of something I wanted to post a while ago, though never had any kind of referring articles, but here's the basic idea.
There are lobby groups, south of our border, who are trying to stop (or at least slow down) the amount of smoking characters do in films.
The main argument is that Hollywood glamourizes the sickly habit by having many lead characters smoke.
The right wing establishment presented the argument that in the top ten grossing films, it is primarily the villains who smoke, and as such, is more of a deterrent as opposed to glamourization. Let us look at the facts, shall we...
TOP TEN GROSSING FILMS OF ALL TIME (US DOMESTIC)
1. Titanic (1997) $600,779,824
2. Star Wars (1977) $460,935,665
3. Shrek 2 (2004) $436,471,036
4. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) $434,949,459
5. Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999) $431,065,444
6. Spider-Man (2002) $403,706,375
7. Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005) $378,977,117
8. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) $377,019,252
9. Spider-Man 2 (2004) $373,377,893
10. The Passion of the Christ (2004) $370,270,943
Let us see here. In Star Wars, Shrek 2, Star Wars: Episode I, Spider-Man, Star Wars: Episode III, Return of the King, Spider-Man 2, and the Passion of the Christ, only one character smokes. J. Jonah Jamieson. And he is neither a villain nor a hero, merely a nuisance. As for Titanic, many characters smoke, so I call that one a draw. 1-1. And E.T., well the only one I remember smoking was the little alien himself, while drunk. Let's see, that's 2-1 against the right wing.
Then again, it might be worldwide.
TOP TEN GROSSING FILMS OF ALL TIME (WORLDWIDE)
1. Titanic (1997) $1,835,300,000
2. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) $1,129,219,252
3. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (2001) $968,600,000
4. Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999) $922,379,000
5. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) $921,600,000
6. Jurassic Park (1993) $919,700,000
7. Shrek 2 (2004) $880,871,036
8. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002) $866,300,000
9. Finding Nemo (2003) $865,000,000
10. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) $860,700,000
Well, the conservatives win this round. We lose ET, and they gain Jurassic Park, whose lawyer smoked. Not that it's focused on past the carnivourous rampage. But still, very few of these films have smokers, which leads me to believe, what do the idiots in power want to hide?
It's simple. All this glamourization doesn't encourage people to smoke. We start smoking as kids (well, typically), because of peer pressure. The fact that only adults can legally do it, and peer pressure, keeps the tobacco industry alive. What the advertising and glamourization does is simple. It keeps us from quitting. I had many failed attempts at quitting before being truly successful this past January (now 7 1/2 months tobacco free). But I remember watching Reservoir Dogs, who, by Dubya standards are all bad guys, smoking, and it ignited the urge to smoke when I had quit, or at least started down the path, and another attempt to stop was squashed.
The solution is simple. Keep people from even starting. The tobacco industry is the most pyschotic of all. They make money legally by killing people.
Wow. I think I finally my brain back in solid phase. Well, okay, maybe. I don't know if it was working three nights, then switching back to a day shoot, being under heavy lights for every and ever, but I haven't even had enough cohesive thoughts to string a few words together into a sentence. As such, now, a post. And not one in really in terms of news or taking the piss or such, but rather, a one day late post for the World's Greatest William Shatner Fan (ducks and hides).
Sorry, just had to do that silk. At least no pictures this time around. So, one day late, for Fictional Fridays, I give to you another *ahem* classic.
WITH GREAT POWER ... copyright 2005 Jeff Vickers
The peaks of Menkaure, Khafre and Khufu break the otherwise cloudless, piercing blue sky. They pull out of focus momentarily, then once again become sharp. Everything then snaps into darkness with a mechanical click, only to re-appear a rapid moment later.
Lucas drops his camera from his face, and looks up at the three wondrous pyramids standing before him in the barren desert, amongst the gaggles of tourists. Something catches his attention, and Lucas changes lenses on his camera rapidly, dropping the one he was using in the sand in the hustled process. He makes no effort to pick up the fallen lens, zooming his lens into the object of his intrigue, high atop the pyramid peak.
Sgt. Heath Johnson. 1915. Carved right into the stone at the very peak of Khufu. Lucas stands at the base of Khufu, the Great Pyramid, staring up at the peak through the long lens of his camera gazing into what felt to be an eternity. "What?!?" shouted Lucas, who now being poked, turned quickly to his right, seeing nobody.
"Mister, you dropped this" Christopher, a boy no older than eight remarked, holding up Lucas's dropped lens. Lucas gazed down at Christopher, with a fierce, piercing glare, and snatched up the lens, without saying another word, and proceeded toward the pyramid face.
A good hour later, Lucas reached the apex of the monumental structure. "For thousands of years," Lucas pondered to himself, "this structure, man made, has stood, standing the test of time. Whoever makes this climb, will know the name of Sgt. Heath Johnson. There is no greater guarantee of immortality." With that sentiment, Lucas had pulled out a hammer and a small rock chisel, and began carving his name beside Sgt. Heath Johnson. Once Lucas finished carving his first name, a surge of power rushed through his tools and directly through his body, ripping his nerves apart with their intense rush. At the end of the assault, Lucas's body went limp, and slumped over the apex of the pyramid.
"Lucas? Lucas?" echoed through Lucas's ears as the white haze slowly cleared into the ceiling of a hospital room. A nurse stood over him, holding his wrist, while checking his pulse.
"Where am I?" inquired a still misplaced Lucas. "In a hospital room, Mister!" the nurse replied, looking at his wrist, very unamused. "I can tell that, thank you. Do they not have finishing schools in the middle east?" The nurse dropped Lucas's arm straight down, and the nurse gazed hard into Lucas's eyes, saying "you're done here. You can check out immediately."
Something seemed to change. Lucas was no longer in his hospital room, but rather in the emergency room, and the nurse was there, checking on another patient. She left the patient to exit the room, when an orderly pushing a cart smashed into her, causing her to fall, clutching her right knee.
"Lucas! Please leave now!" the nurse shouted at Lucas, caught in a complete daze. Lucas snapped out of it, and proceeded to get changed.
After signing out of the hospital, Lucas traveled through Emergency to exit the building. A sadistic smile crossed his face as he noticed the nurse was now a patient, clutching her right knee.
On his way home to New York, Lucas caught the gaze of a single mother, sitting across from him at the waiting area. Lucas kept staring at the young beauty, as his mouth opened more and more, and he did his best just to keep from drooling. The single mother then looked up, and straight into the eyes of the stunning young mother.
The two were then in the airplane bathroom, both naked, in a passionate embrace. Though the quarters were cramped, the two were able to manage to keep the passion and fire lit without any difficulty.
"Last call for flight 912 to New York City" rang through the PA system, and Lucas noticed he was the only one sitting in the waiting area. As he hustled to board the airplane, it dawned on him. "I can see a glimpse into the futures of others." And with this knowledge, Lucas became convinced that this will be a flight he would not soon forget.
After the in flight meal was served, Lucas notice a small, folded wad of paper drop on his tray, just before a stewardess was clearing up after the meal service. Lucas grabbed it in time, and read the message. "Meet me in the lavatory in 5 minutes." along with a drawing as to which lavatory to proceed to. Lucas sat and waited, nearly staring at his watch the whole five minutes.
When the time came, he proceeded to the lavatory, which displayed the red occupied label. He knocked twice, and the door opened a crack. Lucas entered the small room, where he saw Ashley, stripped down to her panties. "Off!" commanded Ashley, and Lucas proceeded to remove every ounce of clothing, showing his thin, but somewhat flabby body.
Ashley then handcuffed Lucas's right hand. "What's this for?" remarked Lucas, now a little in shock. "I'm in charge right now. If you have a problem…" retorted Ashley. Lucas was sure this wasn't how the vision went, but wasn't complaining in the least. He let Ashley handcuff him to the one handrail in the washroom.
"So, big-boy, want to feel like a man?" Ashley invited seductively. Lucas couldn't get a word out of his wide open, drooling mouth, and just nodded in agreement. Ashley looked at Lucas, and plainly said "then treat children with respect, you asshole." She then quickly slipped her clothes back on, grabbed Lucas's clothes, and left the room. Lucas stood, still locked to the handrail, in so much awe he could not speak.
Ashley returned to her seat, right beside Christopher. "Did you fix him mommy?"
"What did you do?"
"I made him think he was going to get what he wants. Instead he got what he deserved."
...you and the wife retire to Fort Lauderdale, you start eating dinner at two, lunch around ten, breakfast the night before.I'm just wondering. Does working on a night shoot basic training for old age diet habits?
Mitch Robbins - City Slickers
Let us examine. Getting onto set last night at 6pm, and breaking for "breakfast", at about 8pm. Now it's called breakfast because it's the first meal served in the work day. Yes, film shoots serve breakfast to get the crews in early. Anyhow, my breakfast consisted of beef teryaki and salad, with rice on the side. And it was great. But I've never had beef teryaki for breakfast. Beer, the breakfast of champions, yes, but never a dinner (or supper or tea, depending where in the world you live in) for breakfast. Even if breakfast is served at 8pm.
Worked all night. Essentially the crew was trying to squeeze in as many night shots as humanly possible before daylight broke. And in British Columbia, daylight breaks awful quickly. So, around 5am, lunch is served. Eggs and bacon, breafast burritos, or my favorite
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Maple syrup.
Followed by a beer before a lovely 2 hour drive home through morning traffic to Burnaby. D'oh!
But this mess up in my physiology, aside from the financial gain of working on set (and the experience), has one very happy benefit. Lets call
FOR 1.5 HOURS
Upon his obvious and very late arrival on set, the Gaffer dug into him as to why he was late, and after a bizzare exchenge, he told the Gaffer to go fuck himself. The Gaffer emplored him not to swear, and Zane's obscenities worsened, at which point, Zane was fired, after driving out 2 hours to set, heard clearly by all crew present.
The tirade continued, as Zane called a chunk of electrics "fucking idiots", and we all laughed at him and continued on.
Comment of the evening?
Zane, why don't you go find a job where you can tell your boss to go fuck himself all the time and they don't mind.Maybe his fall through a set ceiling caused a whack of brain damage. Well more brain damage.
What a different perspective, watching daytime television. I just hope my film calls start going back to days, as these night shoots are just messing up my body clock now.
As such, sitting here spending a quiet afternoon before sitting on a condor reading at $23+ an hour, we flicked through the channels, and ran across one of the many varieties of the Martha Stewart Living series. And every time I watch her, I still see Luba Goy's
parody of the
I have to ask... has Martha's little brush with the law caused her ratings to slide to attract the rare yet viable muppet demographic? Has Martha cut a deal with Don Cookie Monster, to handle her sugar cravings? Or is it this?
She needs a symbolic image of childhood to restore her shattered image.
Wether it be
"D'oh!" - Homer J. Simpsonwe as people tend to associate people with one dimensional catchphrases, right Lisa?
"Excellent." - C. Montgomery Burns
"I'll make him an offer he can't refuse." - Don Vito Corleone
"Damn you vile woman!" - Stewart Gilligan Griffin
"Eat my shorts." - John Bender
or just simply "May the Force be with you, always." - Obi-Wan Kenobi (and hosts of other Jedi)
As such, I just happened to be perusing the Internet Movie Database this morning, waiting for my 4 Red Bull buzz to wear off as so I could get some sleep after an all night rigging call. I decided to do some investigative research on the next film I shall be working on, Dungeon Seige, yup, the film adaptation of the VG.
Before I go further, I will be just doing a condor call on second unit. I've never played the game, nor will know any details of the film. As such, for the lurkers, I won't be able to answer any other questions than I'll be up in a crane for a night shot, enjoying some time to myself, reading Lynch on Lynch, as they shoot a background or establishing set of night shots. And getting paid $23.19 an hour to do so. Disclaimer over.
I decided just to see what imdb.com had to say about the film, and saw this page. Quite a few reputable stars. And Claire Forlani.
Thats right. AND Claire Forlani. No slam, she was great in Mallrats. But topping a list featuring other stars such as Burt Reynolds, John Rhys-Davies, and Ray Liotta, I thought she would have a greater tagline to her biography then this:
Ranked in Loaded's Hot 100 Babes.
Yup. Night and Condor calls cause nothing but brain damage. This whole Saturday has been very blah, even hanging out with the Yorkshire Angel (or Yorkie Pud, or Yorkie Bar, your choice) seem a little slow and foggy. Dawn wanted to know what's up. I'm just recovering.
Then I typed the word "meh" into my browser (yup, I use Firefox), pressed return, and got sent here. Yup, the Urban Dictionary. Finally, a dictionary to make Homer a PhD. Words like buh, snuh, meh, and Flanders-like are all there.
But, as for my find, here's the most appropriate definition of meh:
Meh is used to describe any and every word possible, including:Meh.
look bitch i really dont care so just shut the fuck up
if you want
If you wnat
i dont want to really
i dont really care
no honestly, i dont care...
...and is never explained on which is actually used...
"you wanna come round mine?"
"whats that mean"
(told all of the definitions above)
"so which one? yes or no?"
"that a yes?"
"l ook please tell me"
This wasn't me. Though I've worked on sets, here in Vancouver, that are just as bad.
Check it out.
I can remember two months ago. Living back in the mighty Toronto. Gas was 77.9 cents per litre (America, this is still 3 to 4 times more than you pay after exchange, so don't cry to me about your prices), and I was complaining that it was too high, and remembered the good old days of 50 and 40 cents per litre.
Ahead one month, and then it was 89.9 cents at the pump (less 3.5 cents for being a Petro Points card holder), still rushing to the pump at night, pushing the limit in the day to save. And it felt good that we could find such a low price, as daytime rates cracked above $1.00 per litre.
Well, today, must have set some kind of record. $1.10 plus per litre. Eech. was a relief to see 99.9 cents after 5pm today. Something must be done.
I recieved a bunch of chain emails saying "we should stop going to the two biggest petrol outlets, namely Petro-Canada and Shell, in a plan derrived to bring the giants to their knees, and thusly lower prices. Hmm, commercial customers, the gas industries bread and butter, just can't do that.
Good try, however misguided.
I have a simple solution. Once I get a good chunk of film work, I'm buying one of these...
I won't bring Bush, Harper, and the oil Barons down to their knees, but I'll save my money by not paying them nearly as much gouging me to fund a pointless war.
Found on Laura's LJ:
|You Are 50% Weird|
Normal enough to know that you're weird...
But too damn weird to do anything about it!
|Which Star Wars Character Are You?|
You are the galaxies most feared figure. A giant among ants, you are a demi god and are capable of much, although you are evil.
|Click Here to Take This Quiz|
Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.
And I just don't know what to say about this, so check it out.
But why do I need a test to tell me that?
Yup. The rumours of the last two days are true. The Leafs have signed this man,
Eric Lindros, to play in his hometown of Toronto, and nearby his Mommy. He joins the likes of Leaf Captain Mats Sundin
enforcer Tie Domi
and goaltender Ed Belfour
How can you beat such a team? Simple, don't cry, and put on the blades. But I wonder why Pat Quinn seems so happy?
Maybe we should tell him that's a cigar in his mouth this time.
Well, for those of you who know me well, I stand at a crossroads. Who's in my gut? A very young Montreal team who is building on some talented young players, or a Canucks team who is in their prime, ready to make a run at the cup. Definitely not like Toronto, who I knew from day one that I hate I HATE I HATE the Leafs.
And rumour has it they're going after this guy.
Yes, this crybaby of a hockey player, Eric Lindros, is rumoured to being in talks with the Leafs over a 1 year deal. Nothing like giving up experience for a crybaby hasbeen.
Go Leafs Go! It will be nice to see the Leafs this year, in the place they truly deserve to be.
But back to my dilemma. Well, for starters, there's only one game between the two, and the likelihood that the Canucks play the Habs in the final is low. So I guess you could say whoever gets further, though at the moment, it's leaning towards a more experienced, free-skating Vancouver franchise.
But really, there's a number of people I met here who moved from out east who have split loyalties. So it's all good. Just don't wear the Habs jersey at GM Place.
And don't wear any of the throwback jerseys. Look at these ugly things...
Hell I don't even see John Cena wearing these awful things.
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog...along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around and look for the "coolest" book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.
6. Then list the book you got it from.
Gaffers devise very ingenious ways of making lanterns look real.
FILM LIGHTING, by Kris Malkiewicz.
Yup, I'm still boring. But, some of my close friends call me Theresa.
Greetings Civilians! I'm Col. Stacy. Some of my close friends call me Theresa.
Seem strange, well then watch this, this, and this.
Special thanks to the Royal Canadian Air Farce, our only use for the military.
Gary has done two positive things for hockey in the last month. Seems like karma's a bitch, huh, and now he's trying to get some back.
Anyhow, Bert, aka Todd Bertuzzi, was re-instated. Finally. Yes, I'm biased, as the Canucks are my hometown team. But it seems the team was punished in the last NHL season, losing their irresistable force of an immovable object. And where is his sentiments?
With Vancouver's fans. See here, as Todd thanks all for their well wishes and support. And to boot, he's been cleared for the Olympic team training camp.
Oh what a 2005-06 season coming up. Olympic gold for Canada
yet again, and a Stanley Cup Championship in Vancouver
Yep, I've made a recent stop to the website from hell. And then ran across this . For those who don't like playing follow the links...
So what exactly is John Ferguson doing? I thought Peter Forsberg and Markus Naslund were coming to Toronto as a package deal to play with fellow Swede Mats Sundin? I thought Adam Foote was a slam dunk in Toronto so he could play in his hometown? Pronger to the Oilers? Surely the buds could've given the Blues more than that for a guy who wants to play here anyway, right? Right?Ahhh, how the rumours fly around. We had our share here in Vancouver too, that Forsberg wanted to come and play with
Markus. However, we Canucks fans were more concerned just with keeping our Captain, not wishing for the world. Yet Toronto fans followed the Pied Piper, believing whatever nonsense being said, that even in a hard salary cap era, that they could afford Naslund, Forsberg, and Sundin (probably the three best Swedish players).
Well, they could. Denying any income whatsoever to the remaining 17 skaters and two goalies necessary to make up an on-ice hockey team.
But it seemed not only the Toronto fan bought into such nonsense. The beancounters and management of the Leafs bought into this too. So much so they let go of two of their three veteran Stanley Cup ring bearers (not Sam and Frodo, but rather Nieuwendyk and Roberts, both of Calgary Flames cupdom), in hopes to land both Naslund and Forsberg.
Naslund, however, loves the Vancouver area, and after signing back with the Canucks, bought a house here. He's not going anywhere. Stanley Cup here we come. Forsberg, on the other hand, went back to where it all began. Philadelphia.
The Leafs, however, now must face the fate of the remaining 5 Canadian franchises when the rules were quite the opposite. Rebuild. Without the draft picks. Ahh, the sweet irony of the players mistake stops the country club atmosphere in Toronto. Now they have to build their team the old fashioned way. The same way that made Vancouver, Calgary, and Ottawa cup contenders.
Well, well, well. Seems darling Ms. Silk is taking charge of Fictional Fridays. I know I wasn't necessarily picked (read not this week), but as such, I am still volunteering this offering. As such, the rules were that I was to use one picture to inspire the story. This is the one I picked
I know. Surprise, surprise, surprise. However, by accident, I think I incorporated themes relating to all the pictures, found here.
But, without further adieu,
ACROPHOBIA - Copyright 2005 By Jeff Vickers
Deep blue moonlight covers a brief clearing in a eerily quiet forest. Wind blows sharply, swaying the trees in near unison. A sharp crack of a tree branch breaks the silence, leading a slow crescendo of footsteps, followed by quiet giggling, laboured breathing, and a pronounced collapse of two bodies to the ground.
Ayda lifts her head, gazing deep into Peter's deep blue eyes. Peter draws closer to kiss Ayda, and their lips lock. The two exchange their passion in a moment that feels like an eternity, until Ayda pulls away sharply.
"I'm not that kind of girl Peter."
"But it's your birthday Ayda. I'd just thought..."
"That we'd celebrate? This seems much more for you than for..."
"You're eighteen now. Surely you can kiss on the first date."
"I... I know. I'm just nervous that..."
"It won't go any further. I don't want to pressure you"
"You're not. Let's continue on. Take things..."
"At a time. Besides, I've lived in the mountains all my life, and still haven't had the courage to do one of those suspension bridge thingies."
Peter searches through four pockets in his jacket before he finally finds his flashlight. The two seemingly roam randomly through the forest, with the beam of the flashlight pointing in random directions, and any clear direction the flashlight finds, the young pair follow.
Nearly half an hour passes, until they discover a large, clear opening. "There's the parking lot!" exclaims a gasping Peter, who half keels over, huffing and puffing, out of breath. "Geez, you really shouldn't have dropped PE. We weren't even walking that fast." The two wait a moment until Peter re-composes himself. After a moment of flashlight pointing, they find the sign directing them to the bridge.
Following the signs, the unlikely young pair find their way down a pine rich path to two pillars of concrete, supporting two inch diameter braided wires. "This is it. Ayda, if you don't..." Peter's words drown out to the sound of a low flying airplane. As the rumble from the plane fades away, Peter notices that Ayda has already began to make her way across the bridge, holding both wire rails very tightly.
"I didn't know you were so eager to do this. I'll be right there." Peter begins to follow Ayda onto the bridge, but the first step he takes makes the suspension bridge sway from side to side, and Ayda lets out a shriek in utter terror. "Peter, don't go any further. This thing is going to collapse! I don't want to..."
"Ayda, stay put! You won't fall. I promise. These things are designed to move."
Ayda decided, however, not to heed Peter's advice. As Peter slowly approached Ayda, nearly halfway across the bridge, suspended 180 feet above the canyon below, the bridge continued to sway and rock, each movement of the bridge sending Ayda into deeper and deeper states of terror. Her breathing became shallower and quicker. The strength in her knees failed as she slowly sank to a kneeling, the soon lying position on the steel floor of the three foot wide floor of the bridge. Her loud shrieks faded to quiet whimpers as the fear overwhelmingly overtook every aspect of her being.
Just as all hope seemed to disappear, a familiar hand clasped Ayda's, and began to draw the shuddering young lady to her wobbly legs. Peter embraced her with one arm, and slowly Ayda's quivering stopped, and her breathing slowed to a more normal pace. Ayda finally was able to lift her head, gazing once again into Peter's deep blue eyes.
Peter, however, ignored his earlier male instinct, and turned his flashlight back on, revealing the beauty of the evergreen forest in the canyon.
"It's beautiful Peter" amazed Ayda, as she gazed around the eye-level views of the canyon. The pine and fir trees stretched on with no end in sight. Ayda followed the movement of the flashlights beam, until suddenly it dropped.
Fresh, cold mountain water cascaded over rocks, nearly 200 feet below. Ayda's shriek of horror echoed through the whole canyon, and Peter felt a clench on his wrist so strong that the feeling began to leave his whole arm. "Ayda, please..."
Another airplane, even lower, roared along, swaying the bridge. Peter, staring at the arm clenched by Ayda, could no longer feel it. A giant spotlight hit the pair, from some unknown point in the air. The sound of the airplane vanished, leaving a near total silence under heavy, warm light. As Peter's eyes adjusted to the brightness, he gazed at Ajda. She was still clenching his arm, tight as ever. But, as Peter's vision became truly adjusted to the bright light, gazing into Ayda's eyes, he saw nothing but black pools staring back at him, accompanied by primal growls.
Peter tried everything to break free, but with no avail. Ayda's clasp on his arm was too strong. Ayda spoke to him, but the words coming out of her mouth made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever. "Ayda, what's happened to you?" Peter screamed as he struggled, fruitlessly, to escape. The giant spotlight suddenly flicked out, and all Peter could see was two red eyes staring back at him.
* * *
Andre pulled his car into work early the next day. After his ritual of punching his timecard in, grabbing a coffee, and getting his radio, he began his early morning patrol of the park’s trails. It wasn't long before he reached the suspension bridge, where he noticed an odd lump sitting in the middle of the bridge.
"Not another abused animal" Andre thought, as he put his gloves on, ready to remove another carcass on the bridge. The horror in his face though worsened, as Andre realized what was really waiting for him to clean off the bridge. "Oh my God!" he screamed as he saw the severed head, with the eyes of his dead son staring back at him.
According to the NHL, and now most of the Sporting Press that covers the glorious game, Hockey, it seems this man
will announce tomorrow that he will officially accept the post as the head coach of the semi-competitive Phoenix Coyotes
in hopes that his presence and sense of the game will rub off on his players, injecting life into this otherwise lifeless franchise.
Wayne, buddy, can I talk to you for a minute? Remember, my grandparents lived near your parents in Brantford. Anyhow, I have the solution to the woes of the Coyotes. See, this is the second half of the Bettman era, where the mistakes of the past are corrected. First, we have a salary cap. Now, lets look at things. Ultimately, you cannot ignore the importance of the fans. And frankly, in Phoenix, Arizona, you have five. All Canadian immigrants. It seems rather obvious what you need to do.
Move the franchise back to Winnipeg. You are, however, the managing partner. You are also the President of the Canadian Olympic team. Doesn't it make sense to do what's right for hockey in Canada? I know, I know, theres a much lower population in Winnipeg, but theres a hell of a lot more fans in the
Revive the franchise. Move back to Winnipeg. Maybe then Colorado, in the Pepsi Centre
will move back to Quebec
with all the Pepsis.
This one is quite amusing (well, as from my point of view anyhow) as that I've learned this really two weeks ago. However, with the many, multiple layers of concrete (probably placed there by my old buddy from University days, Frank), it finally hit me. And not in the most ordinary of ways.
Two weeks ago, I was working on [film name deleted - hey, I gotta keep some things confidential], and was setting up one light on one of the many shots that were taken that day. As usual, one of the grips followed with a few flags and a C-Stand, looked at me, and sarcastically made the remark "this is where the art begins now", and promptly shaped the light I set. We had a giggle, and then enjoyed eating multitudes of craft service as we watched shots being taken.
It really helped me recognize the full collaborative effort of all the artisans involved, at a much deeper level. But this wasn't anything new, rather just a deepening and broadening of the appreciation of the efforts of every job, no matter how simple it may be. What I didn't realize until just a few days ago, was when the crew (or a shorter version thereof) had to reshoot a few scenes because 2000 feet (about 20 minutes of footage) was ruined because of a scratch down the whole length of the film (hey, $275 in my pocket for the day after taxes). No, the film will never win an Oscar for Best Picture or the like, nor the Palm D'or, but commercial film keeps us film types fed and clothed. But I did realize just the amount of art in the performance, and that grips effort shaping light just may have been the most amount of art on the set.
I must have a net addiction. The last week had me itching to the point I rushed to the library consistantly to check emails. Augghh!! Thanks to Shaw for promptly hooking up the net for us. And the cable, so when the better half is on, I won't get so antsy. And I can watch tons of
But what a week it has been. To bring
First off, and most importantly,
Vancouver, in the new age of free agency under the salary cap, managed to retain superstar forward (and team captain)
Markus Naslund. Could a Stanley Cup be in Vancouver's future? A few questions still have to be answered. Will Todd Bertuzzi be re-instated by the NHL? Will Vancouver resign other key players such as Matias Ohlund, or the Sedins? How strong will powerhouses such as Philadelphia, Detroit, et al from the [sic] American franchises be?
Maybe the better question to ask is this. Will Vancouver become Canada's team, saving the country from the nauseating overcoverage by the CBC of the Leafs, enhancing the Anglo-Francophone war in my home city of Montreal, making the
Let us look at the FACTSTM, shall we?
1. In the last 28 years (funnily enough, the duration of my viewership of the greatest sport known to man), let us see. Vancouver has been to the cup twice, whereas Toronto has gone zero (only making it to the semi-finals three times).
2. Thanks to Sportsnet airing all 5 channels (for time zones + HD), the rest of Canada got to see the rumour propagated by Toronto. That Peter Forsberg, rumoured to leave the
3. Whereas the Canucks have the room, and are making moves to contend for the cup, the Leafs lost two solid, Stanley Cup Champion players in Joe Nieuwendyk and Gary Roberts, who opted for money in Florida, as opposed to "a cup" *snigger* in Toronto. Guess those cup hopes are dashing. Also nix Owen Nolan, who's out for the season after knee surgery (again).
4. The Leafs, plain and simple, have traded most of their prospects to try to win now. But the players they got in return are leaving. Oops.
Looks like the Leafs are no longer Canada's team.
GO CANUCKS GO!
As for some serious notes, in my said old "home" (though it never felt like home) of Toronto, there was a serious crash of an Air France flight landing at Lester B. Pearson airport Tuesday. Miraculously, all the passengers and crew survived. I am relieved as I am sure are the families and friends of those involved. Though, humourously, I will say this. It will be a while before mom will get on a plane and visit now. She's nervous enough when there's no sense of threat on the plane.
We have a new Governor General.
Michaelle Jean. Our first African American leader. Well, I never knew what constructive actions the Governor General really takes. She is the head of the Senate, which is closed to the public. All I ever saw was previous GG Adrienne Clarkson hand out the Order of Canada to many distinctive, accomplished Canadians. I wonder if this will get any press south of our border. Imagine the riots in the southern US if they find out that prominent countries in the free world is governed (at least in part) by a group that is still persecuted like they have no rights. Something tells me CNN won't be covering it heavily.
C'est la vie. Glad I'm Canadian.
1 The only reason Toronto is marketable in the United States is because it's the only city that an American citizen knows exists up here in the frozen tundra.
Well, for those of you who read my better half's blog, then you are aware A Golden World is moving locations again. As to where, well, that's just a secret. Until next Saturday. That's when I'll be home next to be ready for the cable guy to install the internet at our new abode.
Not saying that I may not pop in and post the piss (the bloggers version of take the piss) out of something. But I can't guarantee net access until Saturday.
As such, some parting
Jana, luckily, the phone isn't cut off, as such, give us a call :P. Or maybe we'll call you.
For Stiggy, two things. Have fun over that side of the pond, and Kawaah (why that blog exists I still don't know...)
For Todd and Mandy, really, just fly out here. Then you'll get more time with us, and not on Highway 1 between Kelowna and Vancouver on mountain roofs trying to fix your faulty Dodge (note crappy Chrysler product).
Heather, if you get your net hooked up, we haven't disappeared, just moved and temporarily internet challenged.
And finally for silk, this should be enough to keep you occupied until next week...
To those of you left out, my apologies. Just be thankful you have no fear of Mr. William Shatner, and not one, but two friends who takes full advantage of that on a very consistent basis.