Sunday Click Around

The painting to your right is by Diana Pakkala aka "Mrs Mystic". She's having a showing with the previously mentioned artist Rob Croxford at Gallery "X" at 491 Church, March 6th to April 7th.

I don't generally read Live Journal blogs. I don't know why..I guess I mostly associate LJ with high school students, but then I found LJ Images which is a feed of the last 20 or so pictures that were posted on Live Journal. The pictures link back to the uploaders journal. It's a little addicting if you're like me and love to look at other peoples photos of other people, and the things that interest them. Pictures are often the things that keep me on a blog for longer than a few seconds.

This is Broken is a collection of things from around the world that are broken. People submit pictures of mistakes. I like the reader submission type blogs. Like Mirror Project or Windscreen Gallery.

Stereo Images is a site with lots of jiggly pictures. Kind of like those waterfalls that are lit in the back that you can buy at the flea market.

I'm not getting out of bed is a little gif that really imitates how I feel most mornings when I wake up. Then I remember that we have a mortgage and I force my ass out of bed.

Visual Recipes is right up my alley, and as you can see...I've put you onto the page with the recipes submitted by moi!

And last but not least...Pathetic Personals is just that...pathetic. Even the site has broken links. Pathetic. But the links that work are by slippery and suspect submitters who are looking for something...I'm not sure that it's love though.

That's it boycheks and girlikas

WAIT!
Stop the wedding...
you're just marrying her for spite....
if she knew the inside story, she'd tell you it just ain't right...

Recently, I ran into someone from my past life.
She told me that she had a partner, that they had been together for about four years, and that he had two children from a previous marriage.

Wow!
I thought.

Then, she said that they had three kids together as well.
It took me a second to do the math.

Then I thought...WTF?

We chatted for a bit and then she went back to her life, and I to mine.
We didn't exchange numbers, or promise to "have lunch".
I think that in our convo, we both surmised that we didn't have much in common anymore.

But, I thought about her for a long while after.
Why would a grown woman who hooks up with a man who already has two kids, drop three more back to back?

Why?

Women are very competitive, but mostly with each other.
How else could she instantly make her relationship more immediately important, but to have three children back to back..one more than his current family.
Is it evil of me to think that of her?

Now, there are five children in the equation.
I can't even begin to understand the complexities that come with navigating a relationship, stepparenting, and three children under four, combined.
I cannot be convinced that the two existing children are handling this well, and with no problems.
I mean, she couldn't have even got to know them before their first child entered the scene.

Sometimes women are just flat out fucking stupid.

Yes, yes...that's right...I'm a judgemental bitch.

Question:

If you had to choose, would you live an incredible life but die young, or live a long, relatively non-eventful, and quiet life...

Which would you choose?

Sunday Click Around

I found this neat gif at b3ta Crap . There is a lot of silly stuff there.

Yesterdays post was one kind of contract.
Here is another kind. This guy wants to be your cat, and from his resume, he's really experienced in napping and lying around all day.

Group hug is another site full of strange and sometimes disgusting or scary confessions. A little addicting if you have nosey tendencies like I do.

I'm not a chocolate lover, but for those of you who are, Chocolate Club's Chocolate Recipes looks like it would be useful. Frankly, I might try a couple.
Today I'll be trying this recipe for Super Moist Cornbread. I'm trying to find a recipe to replace the good, but dry when it cools, Jamaican cornbread recipe I currently use.

For those of us who hate Toronto's Queen Street West hipster, here's a funny little clip that should make you laugh. I especially love how freaked he gets when he accidently hits Dundas West. LOL. What's even funnier are the morons who comment and argue about what part of the city is hippest. Maybe they should "battle" like "EglintionYoga pants wearing Jewish girls who hang out at Starbucks" against "Queen Street West Hipsters who hang out at The Drake" or "Yorkdale Rich Bitch" against "Parkdale Skank Crazy" or something like that.
Seriously, the comments are retarded (sorry, no one says "retarded" anymore...they're "mentally challenged").

Occasionally, I stop by Toronto Police Services Board website and check out Crimestoppers, because I'm just interested in that way. I also stop by The O.P.P. Bulletins site and check out the pictures of missing persons and Canada's Most Wanted. You just never know if you're in contact with someone wanted unless you know who they're looking for, and since I deal with a lot of people every day...well...you just never know.

That's all for now...

Oh, baby, baby it's a wild world...

I was reading this post over at Cynical-C, about Travis Frey's "Wifely Expectations" Contract.

While I was marvelling at the amount of thought Travis put into the length and amount of pubic hair his wife was allowed to have, as well as all the effort and logging that it would take to keep track of "Good Behaviour Days" and so on...it occurred to me just how naive I am.

While I was reading Travis' four page contract, it occurred to me that this was not a marriage contract at all but a submissive and dominant play contract of some sort, because really...what average woman would want this in a relationship?

Really.

I mean, I don't even like The Mister to interfer with my grocery purchases, much less tell me what I'm allowed to, and not allowed to wear..

I went on a little search, and I'm not going to link to any of the sites I found connected to this lifestyle, because they're por.nagra.phic and I get enough hits from degenerates looking for fet.ishes I didn't even know existed.

But, with this kind of thing, I wonder what kind of abuse or frontal lobe damage has occurred to have someone aroused by degr.ada.tion and this kind of lifestyle.

I have read a couple of blogs, and there is all this talk about "loving" and "freedom" in this way of life.

Loving enough to lock you in a cage?

Beat your ass with a broomstick?

That's a different kind of love than the mainstream love that I'm familiar with.

Freedom from what?

The responsibility of having to make even the simplest decisions like what kind of underwear to wear?

I suppose you really would have to trust someone totally to allow them to rob you of your decision making capabilities, because everyone knows...if you don't use them, you lose them.

Then I got to thinking...these are people with children and jobs...I mean, really!

I know.

I know.

I kind of imagined them to be tattooed and pierced goths, beating each other in basements between sips of absinthe...but in reality they are the middle aged overweight woman in the next cubical, or your Accountant who prances around in a maid outfit with 3/4 gloves like Michael here (and really, you don't want to see what other things Michael gets up to).

Think about it...

That chick at the office who can never meet a deadline or make a decision?

eh? eh?

The arrogant bastard who has to control everything, and never lets anyone have any input on the project?

eh? eh?

I'm not sayin'...

I just sayin'...

P.S. Blogger ate my original post, AGAIN! so if this post shows up FOR THE THIRD TIME later...it's because blogger is free and what else can I expect? I'm lucky to get something for nothing.

Thought of the Day:

"Hire a student, while they still know everything."

Uja (my Uncle) used to say that when you realize you know nothing, is when you really know something.

I Get a Kick...

...out of some sayings used to flower up language or a description. These are just a few that I could remember.
Do you know any?

"She's stroked more wood than a Furniture Polisher"

"As useful as a one armed trapeze artist with an itchy ass"

"As busy as a one legged man at an ass kicking contest" (Crabby's fav)

"Went over like a pregnant Pole Vaulter"

"Went over like a whore at a church picnic"

"Empty as a bag of Hershey's Kisses at a Weight Watchers convention"

"I wouldn't trust him with the key to a can of sardines!"

"Talkative? She's got more tongue than a Mountie's boot"

The art is by: The fabulously talented Toronto Artist, Rob Croxford

Ode to My Garbage Man

How do I hate thee?
Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
My garbage can reach.

When one fine paper finds it's way to the blue bin,
You shall not pick up.
Though I wash my garbage to please you,
you still will not pick up if it's in a bag, and not in the blue bin.

I hate thee to the level of Thursday's
unknown time of pick up...sometimes at dawn, sometimes in the afternoons light.
I hate thee freely, as I rush to get my garbage out at the right time;

I hate thee purely, as I can't leave it out too early for risk of fine.
I hate thee with a passion put to use
In my old beefs, and with my childhood's hope and faith that I too would be overpaid for a menial job that requires no College or University education.

To be able to have the power to infuriate residents with my petty little demands of
type of garbage bin they may or may not use, refuse to pick up certain colours of bags, and smelly green bins.
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but hate thee better after your death.

For your information; a first year teacher in Ontario gets paid less.

Yuh face it pretty
But yuh character dirty
Gal, yuh just act too flirty flirty...

We're spoiled.

I know that this isn't news.

But, the other day I was sitting with some colleagues and one was talking about her vacation in a South American country, and how shocked she was by the conditions of life for the people of that country.
Then another told us a shocking story of how children are treated in another country...

Then I piped in with, "Life is cheap".

Conversation stopped and all stared at me.

I continued with, "In most countries, life is very cheap and easily lost. We're lucky here. We get give dogs birthday parties, and dress our pets up in silly costumes. Be pissed off when our Latte doesn't have enough whipped cream, and can buy soap.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the world there are children beating flies off what they picked out of a garbage dump to eat. People are being killed for a wrong word, or a pack of cigarettes."

Yeah.
Just call me, "Patty the Party Conversationalist".

That's Why I Love Mankind...


This disturbing report on attacks of Embassies in the Middle East is about a friggen' cartoon.
How many times have we seen Jesus depicted as a joke?

Anyone who reads my blog knows that I can't get with organized religion.
The behaviour of these fundamentalist freaks is a perfect example of why I can't buy into the man made rules and regulations connected to believing that you need to be a decent person in this world.

It's the misguided and blind faith of people who believe that they must kill Doctors and Nurses in the name of abortion. The crazy idea that being aggressive and scaring people is the way to bring people to the fold of their faith.
The mob mentality of people driven by religion to do terrible and unforgivable things for the possibility of going to their heaven.

It makes me think of Etta James' version of "God's Song (That's Why I Love Mankind)" written by Randy Newman.

"Cain slew Abel, Seth knew not why
For if the children of Israel were to multiply
Why must any of the children die?
So he asked the Lord And the Lord said:
Man means nothing he means less to me
Than the lowliest cactus flower
Or the humblest Yucca tree
He chases round this desert
'Cause he thinks that's where I'll be
That's why I love mankind

I recoil in horror from the foulness of thee
From the squalor and the filth and the misery
How we laugh up here in heaven at the prayers you offer me
That's why I love mankind

The Christians and the Jews were having a jamboree
The Buddhists and the Hindus joined on satellite TV
They picked their four greatest priests
And they began to speak
They said, "Lord, a plague is on the world
Lord, no man is free
The temples that we built to you
Have tumbled into the sea
Lord, if you won't take care of us
Won't you please, please let us be?"
And the Lord said I burn down your cities-how blind you must be
I take from you your children and you say how blessed are we
You all must be crazy to put your faith in me
That's why I love mankind

You really need me
That's why I love mankind"

Life is a chocolate bar
A broken string on a cheap guitar


If you're a Torontonian, and you're ever in the area of West Mall and Burnamthorpe, stop into The Etobicoke Civic Centre for a time warp into 1950's Canadiana.

I was at a meeting in Council Chambers, and the paneling (pictured on the left) was moving, it was such an optical assault.
In the basement, they have mounted fabulous photographs of the old, kitschy, seedy hotels on the Lakeshore that were torn down a few years ago to make room for those lakeview blocking condos.
The photos are most excellent, and the Civic Centre is like a time capsule in it's shiny, waxed 1950's goodness.





While driving along Queen Street, I saw this great window display and had to stop and get a picture. This Photographer has been in business in this spot for as long as I can remember.


As you can see, Ben Afflecks father was clearly Canadian.

Lastly,
you know that little thing you found on the floor, and you were wondering where it came from, and where it belongs, because it's obviously a part of something, but you don't know what...and it sat in a certain spot for weeks?

I'm here to tell you that you won't know what it is or where it belongs until you throw it away.

You say there's peace in sleep
But you'll dream of love instead...

Just a couple of amusing things for you today:

Katja from Yakima Gulag Literary Gazett found an amusing little Bombay TV site where you can subtitle your own Bollywood movie.

Needless to say, I've been harrassing most of my friends with pointless little productions that amuse me to no end...like this one.
(Check out how upset I look as we're driving away! LOL)
Go ahead, make your own and then send it to me, or post the link in my comments for everyone to enjoy!

This quote from Katja had me giggling:

"on the Baptism of Cats; Cats simply refuse to accept the Light of Christ what can I say!"

Make your own Church sign here

Who's Your Master?

Being of Eastern European origin, I tend to be opinionated.
However, due to my upbringing in Canada, I have been able to actually see other peoples points.

Historically, romantic marriage is relatively young.
Maybe only a century or so old.
Prior to this, marriage was essentially a business arrangement. Women were not much more than chattel, in some cultures less than.

So, the idea of arranged marriage to me, as a modern woman is foreign.
Although, in my mothers dreams, she certainly would have liked to have had the power to choose a husband for me, regardless of the fact that she sucked at choosing one for herself.

The year before last, I taught ESL courses in child development.
Many of my students were of Far Eastern descent.
During our discussions around family, and children, I had the opportunity to ask some questions of women who (most of which) were in arranged marriages.
The women I spoke to were pragmatic, and grew up knowing the score where their marriages and lives would be concerned.
The more I spoke with them, the more I understood where in the right circumstances, an arranged marriage had more of a chance to survive than a "love" marriage.

Love marriages are full of emotion, and "I wants".
It's about what makes us happy personally, without the support and pressure of family expectations.
It's not so much about sacrifice, family, compatibility in life, expectations, and level of life.
While I was thinking about this, I ran across this entry at "Procrastination" from 2003 arguing the pros and cons of arranged marriage.
It's an interesting discussion, and while I'm too conditioned to accept the concept of arranged marriage for myself, I can certainly see it's merits.

It's an interesting discussion.

While arranged marriage is not for me (too late for that anyway), I can see the point.
The same way that I can see the point of women who wear Hajib and say that they are more free than women who dress in contemporary clothing because they are not slaves to fashion and fad.

But in the end, we're all slaves.
Be it to fashion, religion, family, or to love.
It all depends on who your master is, no?

Another Roadside Memorial

I kind of like roadside memorials.

I remember as a child driving by them in the former YU, and thinking and wondering about the person who died at that spot.

But then, I'm someone who also reads the obits in the weekend paper and reads about the love and pain expressed by family members, as well as a synopsis of the persons life.

Is that morbid?

To be a stranger who will read about your death, and for a moment think about you, and your life, and the people who loved you, and hope that you're in peace.

I kind of like roadside memorials.

There seems to be some discussion around a plaque in the memory of Tahir Khan the cab driver who was tragically killed last week.
Some poll was taken asking residents if they would mind a plaque put up in prestigious Rosedale, on the corner of Whitehall Road and Mt. Pleasant, where Mr. Khan died.

For some people, Mr. Khans death was symbolic of the typical Canadian immigrant.
Someone who works hard, and sacrifices in order to achieve the Canadian dream, and become a citizen of Canada.

76% of residents polled apparently want no part of the plaque.

I'm not surprised.
Who wants a plaque commemorating the death of a Pakistani immigrant cab driver in Rosedale?
Especially when he was accidentally killed by boarding school brats.

Certainly not the snotty residents.

When did Oprah get to be the last word on everything?
Did I miss something?
Isn’t she a Talk Show Host?

Don’t get me wrong…I mean, if Oprah’s Book Club can get hosers to read “The Bluest Eye” by Toni Morrison, I think that’s great…but holy shit, man!
She’s a talk show host, not God.
Not St Joseph.
Not Mohomed.

I just watched Oprah’s public flogging of James Frey.
I just watched a bunch of people kiss her ass for “bringing this to the forefront of journalism”.
Who the fuck is James Frey?
Some guy who wrote a personal memoir that he sensationalized?
Someone who embellished on his memories?
I’m sorry, but it’s a memoir, people…not news.

For one of the Muppets (asked to come on the show to comment), to reckon it to claims that the Holocaust never happened is just fucking ridiculous.
It's insulting.
That now, if we read a biography or memoir we will not believe again.
It’s all Mr. Frey’s fault.

In times of war, lies in journalism are rampant.
In fact, the old adage:
"The first casualty of war is the truth", is the biggest truth ever told in times of reporting during a state of war.

To flay this writer for doing what many do in the guise of real news, seems like non-news to me.
The real news is that he pulled the wool over Oprah’s eyes.
That seems to be the real issue here.

When did Oprah become the North American conscience?

Obviously, the world of journalism and TVland collectively think that the general public are complete and utter morons.

I must concur...I huffed, puffed and snorted through the whole thing...

Begging for Charity

I have a pet peeve to pick today, and it's not about the election results.
Our new government is not as bad as it could have been, it's a minority...so they'll have to fight for every cut they'll most probably put forward.

Ok so, onward...
I am not a selfish person and I donate both my time and money to worthy causes.
However, am I the only one who would like to make this decision on my own without being harangued by a Cashier or by some person standing at the exit of a store like a Union Picketer?

This really irritates me.
What ever happened to the donation box by the cash register?
Why is the Cashier obligated to ask me, "Would you like to donate to (large company's pet charity) today?".
"No, would (Large Company) like to donate on my behalf?"

It's not enough that there are sometimes two or three people stationed at the exits of large stores soliciting donations, but I have to dodge those kids stalking me in any mall parking lot to buy their chocolates!

This is the truth.
One Saturday afternoon, I counted 12 different people that approached me for a donation as I ran my errands.
I saw one kid twice!
I said to him..."Didn't I see you in front of Scotiabank two hours ago?"
He got this constipated look on his face and said, "no".
I know it was the same kid.

It's enough already.

If I want to donate, I'll put my money in that little box by the cash register or send it to MY favourite charity and get a tax receipt.

Stop nickel and diming me every time I run some errands!

That's all for now folks...

Sunday Click-Around

I stumbled across Cardstacker Gallery which, I must say is quite impressive.
Another impressive sight dealing with paper is Robert J. Lang Origami which is also pretty impressive.
I must say that I certainly have never had the patience to get through to the third diagram with origami.

This guy is pretty good with sand. I personally didn't have the patience to sit through the whole video, but it's still interesting to be sure.

Back to paper for a second and check out Napkin Quotes, a project a stay at home dad took on for his daughters. I got this link via Riri.

It's a project that would be really cool if you were a young daughter, a lot of work if you were the Dad...but a heartwarming priceless memory as an adult daughter.

I'm a fan of photography, and Ikon is a blog by Kirk Condyles.
It's a new blog, but I'm looking forward to his photos since my favourite photos are of people.
I can look at photo after photo of people, and never get tired of looking at them. Photos of wildlife and landscapes are beautiful, but start looking the same to me after a few photos.
Chalk it up to being city raised.
People are just more interesting to me.
Even in art.

For those of you who are tortured by dreams, like myself...here is a dream dictionary that is a little less specific than many, and somehow the interpretations seem more logical to me than other dream dictionaries.
Most of my friends know that I have had a love affair with sari fabric for years. I cruise Indian fabric shops for vibrantly coloured fabric like I'm going to a Hindu wedding every weekend.
Here is a gratuitous photo of some of my beloved sari fabric.
Here is an Indian Recipe site.
I haven't tried anything from it yet, but I will.
If any readers have a tried and true recipe for "vare" (sp?) or "Keseri" I would really appreciate an e-mail.

Here is a Cooking by Numbers recipe site, where you mark off what you have in your fridge and it will generate recipes for you.
Also, the Table of Condiments telling you the shelf life of many condiments.

Sean Penn demands to know what asshole took seanpenn@gmail.com?

Last, and maybe least World Jump Day on July 20, 2006 at 11:39:13GMT.
Yeah. Ok.

That's all for now.

Another Episode of "What Were You Thinking?"

Me: "She's pregnant again. I don't know how she's going to manage, especially since the father of her last child is unreliable and doesn't help her."

The Mister: "She's going to have this one?"

Me: "She's got religious convictions"

The Mister: "That's convenient"

Me: "What do you mean?"

The Mister: "Well, what about the conviction of 'no pre-marital sex'? It's funny how we can choose our convictions and sins. What makes her think that she's any less guilty of sin by giving her kids the shittiest life she can give them?"

The Torture of Women

There is no doubt that women endure all kinds of crap to look like...well...what men think we should look like thanks to anorexic, coke fueled models, fashion magazines, actresses with personal Chefs, Personal Trainers and months at a time with 8 hours a day at the gym, and porn.
Women are made to feel as though they have to pump botox into their faces, chemicals into their lips, and silicon into their breasts in order to feel beautiful.
All of this is painful, and expensive shit.
I, being of the modest income variety am limited in what
a) I can afford and
b) What I am willing to do in order to live up to some sort of womanly standard.
Being of Eastern European agricultural engineering stock, my main battle over the years has been with hair.
I have used or tried everything on the market.
Many, many of which did not work.

Oh yes...I fell for those infomercials about the sugar based, spreadable crap that is supposed to work like wax...I fell for it because it was being pushed by a family of Middle Eastern women...and if anyone should know hair removal, they should.

They lie.
They lie like Persian rugs!

I would like to introduce you to an instrument of torture...The Epi.lady.
This was probably the worst experience I've ever had with anything that plugs in and claims to rid me of leg hair.
This little tool of the devil is an electrical device with two flexible coils that go in opposite directions to excruciatingly pull out hairs one by one as you drag it down your chosen appendage.
This is the only thing I own that I have not been able to give away.
Every time I try to give it to someone, it comes back like a boomerang within a day or two, with the trier-outers' lip trembling at the memory of their date with The Ep.ilady.

It still sits menacingly in the cupboard under our sink in the bathroom securely subdued in the fake leather pouch it came in.
I don't think that they make the model I own anymore...I think that perhaps the legend has instilled fear and nightmares in little girls all over the world.
But trust me girlikas...it existed.

It's when I read about happenings like this , taking away certain peoples' personal rights starts looking reasonable:

"A San Ramon couple who police said left their 5- and 10-year-old sons home alone -- but got a dog-sitter for their puppies -- were arrested Wednesday after celebrating the New Year in Las Vegas for five days."

"The couple, who police said may have left the kids home alone before, remained jailed Wednesday night in lieu of $200,000 bail each. They refused media requests for interviews."

"The 5 year old is autistic"

""It makes me feel unloved, put it that way," Joshua (the 10 year old) told The Chronicle"

No. shit.
Are we bringing back stonings any time soon?