I Plan On Calling It "The Greatest Story Ever Told Part 2"

The Academy Awards have recently taken place and there is a few people upset about the Best Film winner, "Crash". It seems as though "Brokeback Mountain" was supposed to win because it caused the most controversy because as we all know "Best Film" is French for "Most Controversial" and not as we English speakers would typically think when we hear "Best Film". After all, a story about two homosexual men beats a group of people dealing with racism. Hands down. Racial equality is a such a boring, been there done that kind of subject. We see it in how we in 2006 are currently treating all races the same and thus a movie about racial intolerance is a moot point. Aside from the segregation of Natives in reserves. Oh, and the severe problem of racism that is still heavily present in the south. And the racial profiling of Arabs at borders. Aside from that we're doing pretty good. That's why this incisive commentary about the issue of racism is what should put "Crash" nowhere near the award for "Best Film" (Most Controversial).

And who cares if the play was brilliantly written. Or if the performances were believable. Or if the directing was exquisite. That is nothing compared to gay cowboys!

But don't worry, the Academy always redeems itself. I have confidence that it will go back to the roots and go back to picking movies that are the hot button issue and not movies that are "deserving of the award". That's why I plan on writing a movie about three gay, transvestite, polygamous, abortion doctors that want to create a new religion combining Satan and Paul into the same person and who merely want to fall in love and have everyone validate their new union(s) together as they promote the new Aryan nation. I plan on calling it "The Greatest Story Ever Told Part 2"

A Box of Wine and a Half Used Up Box of Bandaids

I sometimes wonder if I'm at the end of my creativity. Like this is the end of my new jokes, sketches and the like. Because I will sit in front of the computer and there is nothing that wants to come out. I'm left with loathing and doubt in my abilities. Sure, I can make people laugh in real life, but getting that stuff on paper is tough. It seems like it's supposed to be natural for comedians to come up with this stuff. I know it takes these guys a while, too. But I mean since Mr. Chapel, I seem to have hit the bottom of the creativity barrel (cocaine supply) and I don't know how I can fix it. Whenever I watch something I have to try very hard for it to not enter my creative realm, because I will want to copy it. It's terrible.

If only there was a way to be more creative. Like a brain enlarger machine. No that's lame. Come on! You lousy Daveface.

You'll see my creativity reflected in this blog. If I don't write anything for a while. Then it means I'm out of ideas and then when I have something that is mildly funny, I will waste it and the lousy internet. It's like a vaccuum to consume the left side of my brain. That's the creative side, right? My right side of the brain has not been developped enough to know if that's right. Or left.

Perhaps the answer to my quandry lies right in front of me. Something that has eluded me for sometime, yet is the clear solution to this problem. A box of wine and a half used up box of bandaids. Maybe I could make a children's show about Winey and Bandaidity the Bandaid Box. Ah, what the crap?!

Restaurant Review

My trip to a certain restaurant (I was certain it was a restaurant) was a time where I ate food. And if I could describe the taste of the food, I would have to describe it as "unidentifiable" because although the food was there in front of me (I saw it) I was unable to place what I was "tasting" with my "taste buds". It was a dessert, for I ordered it off the dessert menu, however, I did not look at it was called so I had no idea what it was supposed to be. I looked at an it seemed to be topped with some sort of "fruity gelatinous film" but as I tasted it, I could not decide if it was raspberry or strawberry. The person with whom I shared it with said she believed it was "caramel", which really only confused more as I tasted it. The lighting in the "restaurant" made it difficult to examine what it was. If you want to eat food, but you want to know what you are eating, I would avoid this place, unless you learn how to read. So that's why I'm summing up my experience at the restaurant as "not very obvious" as opposed "more obvious".

Lousy, Good For Nothing, Know Nothing, Free Loading Infants

I don't hate children. I don't know where that came from. I really don't. It's just that a lot of my friends and other people I know are starting to have children. And I think that's, uh, rude. I mean I use to hang out with all these people and now they have babies.

I mean, we used to be friends. C'mon. I've been drooling all over myself for the past 23 years. Why do these rookies get the spotlight? I can put together coherent sentences and know how to manage a bank account. What do these kids got? Nothing. Nothing, people.

Some would argue that they are cute. I thought that we as a people were trying to move away from this idealistic Hollywood-sponsored movement of "cuteness" and start hanging out with people based on what they have on the inside. And I have a lot more insides than these "babies" who are doing nothing for our society but freeloading along. I mean I've known so many babies that don't bring in any income and who has to pay for their food and their living expenses. Their parents! I mean if I told my roommate to buy all my food and pay for all the rent and for my student loans, I'd be kicked out so fast. I mean I should know. I'm writing this on a laptop that I borrowed (stole) since Wednesday.

I try to break into this acting business and here I am being beat out for parts by babies for diaper commercials! C'mon, I look way better in those diapers. Lousy, good for nothing, know nothing, free loading infants.

A Musical About Cats is Our Best Piece of Work That Shows Our Moral Integrity?

I'm tired of people always saying that North American culture is devoid of meaning and that the increase of sex and violence in our media is a good sign of the coming downfall of our society and soon a different society will be the powerhouse. Sure there's plenty of examples from the Greeks and the Romans and the English and the French and the Germans. And sure maybe there's plenty of completely unnecessary forms of entertainment that do nothing but feed into primal, carnal desires of debauchery and violence such as Bumfights and Jackass and most if not all kinds of gangsta rap and Survivor and professional wrestling and Doom (both the video game and a lesser extent the movie) and Dane Cook and monster truck rallies and Simple Life (all seasons and pretty much anything Paris Hilton condones) and phone sexlines and Bob Sagat. And sure there may be numerous attacks on the sense of moral responsibility and the over-glorification of freedom and political correctness which has helped led many of the inhabitants of Africa to be hungry and often to be under the threat of war. And sure we're involved with many self-destructive behaviours like the destroying the ozone layer and ever dwindling energy supply and numerous gun crimes and still much ingrained racism through out a lot of parts and the center of the pornography industry and growing anti-intellectualism prevalent in our society. But all these nay-sayers and cynical Sids have conveniently overlooked the fact that North American culture still has one piece of culture that holds up throughout the test of time that shows that we are still good-intentioned and have a continuing hope to be the beacon the others will follow and of course I'm referring to the beautifully inspired story of the Mario Brothers. The fact that these simple plumbers from New York would go forth and push themselves to jump numerous times their height, fighting off the turtle demons of the Koopa kingdom merely for the safe return of one woman. That's an example of honour and bravery and love that shall be passed - wait a second... Mario Brothers was made in Japan. Oh sweet bastard! What the hell do we have?... Cats... you mean the musical...Oh come on! A musical about cats is our best piece of work that shows our moral integrity? It's about nothing. Nothing. We're dust. Just give the crown to Japan already. They're the ones with Mario Brothers! I'm going to irrationally drop everything in life and move there right now! Who's with me!?

Maybe I Should Start Getting Inspiration From Family Circus

I've officially transferred all of my blog entries from my previous blogging area, so for all those who would have never seen my inspired blog entries before, now you have a chance. And really, when I say inspired, I mean the time in my life when I had something new to say as opposed to now when I've finally had to realize that my humour is lacking and one dimensional. Like Jeff Foxworthy. But alas I will not give up. I will put on a smile and keep trying. Maybe I should start getting inspiration from Family Circus. You never know what Jeffy will do next!

I'm Pretty Sure Seeing a Dog with Three Legs and is Three Quarters Deaf Would Be Sadder

So with the help of Mr. David Colvinsonington, I've been relocated to this location for my blog. I'm glad he's plugging me on his blogging area. On his February 14th blog entry, he has this sweet graphic thing to advertise the Third Wheel Convention that I held on my birthday.

Yeah, there's nothing sadder than being born on Valentine's Day, being left out and then be the key note speaker at a Third Wheel Convention that you created because you knew nobody would actually go to your real birthday party. Well, I'm pretty sure seeing a dog with three legs and is three quarters deaf would be sadder. Or may a lone piece of pizza lying at the side of the road. That'd be pretty sad.

Anyways, the need for the convention is simply that the old adage "bros before ho's" goes right out the window on Valentine's Day. And from my thorough research into the topic, I'm pretty sure that the "bros before ho's" was probably coined by a third wheel who was trying to convince his friend to ditch the girlfriend and he figured that if it flowed then it has to be true.

However, there was a small turnout which is better than expected (no turnout) and I gave a rousing speech about third wheels and then watched Shrek, because after all, Donkey is a great example of a third wheel. Then I realized I just turned twenty-three, watching an animated cartoon and analyzing the aspects of third wheelism knowing that when I get home I would gently cry myself to sleep.

Computers are Nature's Matchmakers

Ok, so I've run into just some of the most sitcomish events of my recent memory. It has been ridiculous really. These stories will be my fodder for the next few entries. This one happened ten minutes ago.

I was happily checking my e-mail after work at Domo, when I notice one from an acquaintance of mine which advertised a "crush calculator" and I'm like "Oh, what the hey, I'll play along with one of these mass e-mails. How can it possibly go wrong?"

The link takes me to a site and it says I can put up to three names and then it will see if there is any matches and I assumed it was some gong-show method of comparing names and then it randomly says yes or no or possibly "cooty-infested". It seemed pretty innocuous. So, I put a couple of names down, that I was serious about. I after all I'm not going to be one of those people who have fake crushes and then send fake love letters and then get fake married and have fake kids. Kids are always so disappointed when they're told that they are fake.

Anywho, after I typed in the two names, I was thinking about how the computer was going to figure out the possible future of my love life, because computers are nature's matchmakers. I was then appalled to see the message that popped up and said, "You've been tricked! The names of your crushes has been sent to ...." and then it put the name of the person who originally sent the e-mail, who shall remain nameless due to the fact that she will have an unfortunate accident in the coming hours.

Normally, I would probably shrug off such a "trick". After all, if it was a good friend of mine, they probably would already know my crushes.

However, this was a mere acquaintance. One of those people that you talk to only occasionally and would never give them money (which is a true sign of friendship and/or bastarditity). This may not be such a problem either if they had no idea who I was talking about or had no influence in my sphere.

Enter the twist that you saw coming, she is good friends with the crush that I wrote down. The same crush that I'm planning to hang out with on the weekend and execute the critical preliminary date to see if there is a potential in moving towards an official girl-sanctioned date. These preliminary dates are like secret missions that only the guy and other male advisers should know about. That way if the preliminary date is lackluster, the guy still has the chance to walk away because the girl has no investment yet.

This whole best friend now knowing about the secret mission is what leads to international incidents. This is also compounded by the fact that I entered two crushes into the site and thus she'll know that her friend is not the only one. This takes away a lot of the much needed credibility that I need later on in the relationship, if there is going to be one.

I am now going into that scene in the sitcom where its after the first commercial and then the whole thing falls apart and then it ends in trainwreck and then perpetuates the idea that men are greedy, lustful jerks and that women clearly don't need men.

This is what I get for trusting a computer. And friends.

A Love Affair in the Fact That I Write Letters to Him and Then I Dress Up Like Him

I recently checked up on the website of Bob Odenkirk and David Cross, the guys who created Mr. Show. On it, David Cross put up a letter that he wrote to Larry the Cable Guy in response to Larry’s comment about something that Cross said in Rolling Stone about Larry’s stand-up bit and audience. (I know, it’s confusing, but wait to the part when Cross goes back in time and there’s two David Crosses getting into all sorts of mayhem) Anyway, Larry took offense at the fact that Cross that called Larry’s crowd a bunch of redneck idiots or something like that and that Cross has no idea what he’s talking about.

Cross then uses this letter to defend every single comment he said in the Rolling Stone article, including the part where he called Larry a racist and then goes on to draw out three outrageous quotes from Larry’s book that proves the point. It was hilarious especially if you appreciate Cross’ style of edgy humour.

This is the thing with my secret love affair with David Cross (secret in the fact that only I know about it and it's a love affair in the fact that I write letters to David Cross and then I dress up like him and pretend to answer them) even though we would disagree on several points, we do have the same sensitivity to the glorification of dumb. That’s why I can look past a lot of the inflammatory things those guys say and laugh because there is thought behind it and not a string of fart jokes (Larry the Cable Guy).

After I read the article by Cross I figured I’d give Larry a chance and the first thing I see when I go to the official “Git-r-done” website is a Christmas decoration made out of Christmas lights that depict a reindeer being hung upside down with red lights acting as the blood dripping from its head onto the ground. Classy. I didn’t have to read anything. I thing the picture defended just right. Cross had no right saying that only rednecks would appreciate Larry the Cable Guy. Who wouldn’t want a guy who’s “line” is “git-r-done”? Nothing redneck about that.

If you want to check out the letter by Cross, go to: http://www.bobanddavid.com/david.asp?artId=183

It May Not Work, But I Thought I'd Give It a Shot...And Oh, I Like Crack

Apparently Microsoft is still conducting their beta tests by tracking e-mails and sending cheques to the individuals who forward a dumb mass e-mail that says "It's true, I saw it on the news!" How does this make any sense! I've personally received the very same e-mail four times in the last few years and no one has pieced it together that this thing is bogus! I mean, very intelligent people have sent me this thing and the only thing this letter does is prove how you didn't think about it at all.

For one, why would any company just give thousands of dollars to annoymous individuals across the world for a lousy e-mail. I mean, they could do this internally to test whatever it is that they would want to test. That way, they wouldn't get gullible idiots who don't know what the basics of computer programming involves.

Second, why would this e-mail so unofficial. Shouldn't something like a test from Microsoft that involves money have a subject that says "Microsoft Officially Invites You for Participation in a Program Test" and not "It may not work, but I thought I'd give it a shot...and oh, I like crack".

Thirdly, why they even test an e-mail for Rosencratz' sake! They know it works. It works fine. Even the most computer illiterate can learn it. Even the fools that fall for this trick can use it.

This is the reason that humanity will fall apart in a fiery wreck because it will be these people that perpetuate this insult of humanity who will elect the next Napoleon.

These Shoe Buckles are on Sale for $3.99

A couple of days ago, I heard from one of my co-workers that during one of the conference calls that Mrs. Important Lady said “Dave is a great example of why we created the game expert position.” I found that to be quite the compliment. But wait a minute. How come no other game experts were mentioned? Perhaps there are no other game experts. Maybe I’m the only one. When I was hired, they said it was because they had a special position just for me. But what if that they meant “special” position? They’re probably just filling their “special” job quotas. And that means that they’re saying that they created this position because of lesser people like me! I’ve never been so insulted. No that’s not true. I’ve been to Insultfest ’98, ’99, and ’01 and man did you ever feel insulted after that. But still, that was a slap to the face.

I was also talking to one of my friends and he said that I tend to “twist peoples’ words so that I hear what I want to hear”. And that took me aback. What was he hinting at? Perhaps he’s saying that I tend to look beneath the surface of others’ comments to find a deeper wisdom. A wisdom that I and others would want to hear. That would make sense. I’m very good at interpreting what other people mean. I’ve told that by many people. Like when they say, “Do you know what you’re talking about?” and “You just a pompous jackass, aren’t you?” and “Why are stealing my newspaper?” and of course, “These shoe buckles are on sale for $3.99.” I mean, if you didn’t believe me before, just look at those testimonies.

I'm More Woman Than They Are

Despite what this looks like, I'm not a hot supermodel. It's an illusion. Although, I think I could make a really good supermodel. I'm tall, I'm skinny, I have superpowers and I have a small dog in my handbag. Oh, and people are generally jealous of me because I'm more woman than they are.

But that picture is completely fabricated despite what others will tell you. Like when they say that I "volunteered to wear it" or that "I was happy to wear it" or that I "stole it from Stef's closet" or that I "threatened to fight people who tried to stop me". I mean it's ridiculous. Why would I want to wear a dress and pose in the supermodel pose that I've been perfecting for the past six years?

I've had enough of all these accusations and threats and I know it will come back to haunt me if I ever want to become a politician or a woman because my friends have forged this picture. I mean that can't be me. Look at those girly arms. Or that perfect skin or that long flowing hair. No way. I'm a man's man.

So, I'm not standing for it anymore. I'm standing up against you character assassins out there. I'm outta here, you jerktards, and I'm going to go back to making my new dress!

She's Like the New Me in the Group. Except, She's Quieter and Less of a Jerktard

This is a picture of my friends Ryan, Michelle, Zeke and Michelle. They're all really good friends. Except for Michelle. The second one. I don't really know her. She's just sort of there. The others know her. In fact, it's more like I was just sort of there. She's like the new me in the group. Except, she's quieter and less of a jerktard. When I first met her earlier that night, I think I kind of embarrassed her and thus set up our relationship to be awkward after that. I really should work on that.

Wait a minute. I don't even know her that well and she's already taken most of this blog entry. Can you believe that? How can you be so rude.

Anyway, Ryan's great. And Michelle (the first one). Zeke's great, too. All great. Just great. That's all I really got for them. Man. If they're so great, how come I got nothing to say about them. I mean the other Michelle already has two paragraphs. What's up with that? My friends aren't really helping me tell really good stories about them. I mean, what's the point of having friends if you can't post them on your blog with some sort of anecdote to go along with it?

As a message to my other friends. If you want to send me pictures, I'll post them and try to come up with something positive.Except for these people. I don't know what was with that.

Then You Have to Explain to the Police Why You Gave Him the Poker in First Place

This is yet another entry in a row and so I'm actually using tomorrow's date, because you can only live each day once or some crap like that.

For those of you who don't know or care, there has been a bit of a compilation of dramas in my life. Some involve me and others do, too. Here's a brief rundown.

1. I put my foot in my mouth with this one person I know and I was a damned idiot in what I said. It was my fault and I had to bite the bullet and legitimately say sorry. It was some of the dumbest things I think I've ever said to an individual and so now I have to go through that awkward feeling of "did I make it up to them enough?" Apparently, you need to say something like 8 nice things to make up for one bad one. That's like 32 things I need to say nice. You see you can't use retroactive positive comments either. Oh well, that's 32 nice things for her and like 6 shots of Jack Daniels for me.

2. As of late, people making fun of me has started to take it's toll and find it difficult to face constant ridicule (although still unfair of me to put it on others). And there was a recent time where every single piece of conversation that came my way was a form of ridicule and that was like an awesome cherry of punch in the face that I've had to deal with in addition to the normal day-to-ridicule. It's the kind of thing that's worth at least 8 shots of Jack.

3. Another individual in my life did not make a certain engagement this past week and although it did not affect me that much personally, others in same said group have and now there's going to be that damned awkward thing in the air, where people pretend nothings wrong, but everyone knows there is something wrong. It will be "great". I can't tell if that last statement came across as sarcastic. Because it was supposed to be. Very sarcastic. Although ultimately I think it's only one shot. I mean Jack Daniels is so expensive.

4. I went on a date recently, which technically went well, it didn't end as I hoped. Meaning that that's the end of that. That was a lot of "that"s for one sentence. My english teacher would kill me for that. Oh, and my over-use of exaggeration. Anyway, through said experience, I've had an epiphany and now have a renewed vigor for life and self-confidence (but I still don't like the whole ripping Dave's being apart from 1). But I think I may have foolishly told the individual that majorly influenced this epiphany and that may have been a mistake. And I'm left with have to figure out what the hell is going on. That's easily worth the price for the 10 shots.

5. I'm planning on having a launch party for the Mr. Chapel DVD release and many of these people may be there all together under one roof, ready for a sitcom-like meltdown. And even if they don't come, all the conversations that involve inviting them will just suck. 1 shot for every invitation. That's like 30 shots.

I didn't sign up for all this, but this is what you get for getting involved socially and having little diplomacy skill to deal with it. It's like giving and enthusiatic kid a hot poker and releasing him into a mall full of people. And then you have to explain to the police why you gave him the poker in first place and you have to tiptoe around the fact that you were there to steal from the jewellery store and why the hell did I use my little cousin for that. That kid can't do anything right. I mean I needed you to be a distraction. How hard is that?

Oh and now I have to buy a lot of Jack Daniels. That's like one of those big bottles and I can't throw money around like that. That's worth two shots.

Oh, Why the Skunkmold Do I Even Bother?

This is the first in a series of blog entries that I'm writing in an attempt to make it up to my fans. To ask for forgiveness for my lack of responsibility. To climb up the harsh terrain of forgiveness, you need to do whatever it takes to make people forget about what you did and hopefully it will be enough to cover the next thing you're planning to do to them. Ah, yes. The life of a jerktard is a tough one. Long and arduous. Unrelenting.

Back to my apology for lack of responsibility. If you happen to be in Winnipeg, why don't you look me up and give me a call on the Dave Rae Apology Hotline and we can arrange a time to get together and I'll take you out for dinner. More like have you over for dinner. Actually, I'll just be giving you some of my grapes. But you'll have to be quick on that, because I'm currently eating them as I write this.

I guess since I'm on the topic of me being a jerktard, I think my biggest problem is just saying things before I really consider the implications of what I say. That's why I don't write a whole lot of blog entries because I'll start writing it and have just a bunch of filthy words strung together in it that make sailors blush (like "mudcrap") and then I have to go back and edit them out and I just think, "Oh why the skunkmold do I even bother?!" and then delete the whole thing.

And beyond the whole blog thing, I'm a jerktard because I have this tendency to yell at people on the street. You know, people are just walking along, enjoying life and I have the bold tenacity just to yell out stuff like "Watch out, there's a truck coming!" or "Hey, that guy's going to shoot you!" I mean, where do I get off? Just yelling like I'm some kind of circus ringmaster with some new freak on display. That's it. Next time a truck is barrelling down the road at someone, I'm not saying anything. Keeping the mouth shut. I can't be a jerk forever.

Who do I have to thank for that character change? You guys. Thanks. Keep the dream alive.

February 14, 1983: Grab Life By the Face, Kick It in the Crotch, Suplex It Through a Table

Note from David: This is actually the first thing I ever wrote and it was moments after I was born. Forgive the grammar and spelling. I was a baby for goodness' sake.

Dear Life,I'm David Rae and you have no idea what the hell is coming is at you. I'm going to grab life by the face, kick it in the crotch, suplex it through a table and unman it through my display of superiority and leave it weeping and wailing. I will legimately destroy you, life.

Don't doubt me for a moment because I will get you when you least expect it. I may be in diapers (whether it be tomorrow or when I'm an old man) but my power will allow me to go through life like an iron baseball bat breaking stuff until it eventually gets rusted and stops working.

I will be a strong man. Able to crush anything that you throw at me. Crush it with rippling biceps and hard feet, so I can...step on you. Like grapes. Like grapes at the juice factory, ready to be crushed into juice.

I will be fast. Like a cougar. Or a leopard. Whatever the fast is, I will be it in the sense of my speed of character. My character will change so fast and so often, you won't even know how to deal with me.

I will be tough. As nails. Made out of adamantium. And uranium. Tears will never meet this face. And I will laugh at those who do. I will never let anybody tickle me, because I would giggle and then I would have to fight them. But because I will be a colossus and I will win fights by default.

I will be smart like a dolphin or a chihuahua. Or however you'd spell that. My mind will be so powerful that I will solve any problem. And if I couldn't I'd simply use my mind powers to blow it up.

I will be wise like a serpent. A crafty, jerktard of a creature, ready to pounce with my wisdom and injecting it into the veins of others and they will faint from the poison of my deity-like wisdom which apparently comes as poison.

I will be charismatic like an eagle. I will be a ladies' man. I will have line-ups of ladies ready to make out and a line of dudes ready to give me hi-fives. I will know what to say at the right times and if I say it right, they'll give me five bucks.

What do you got, life? Nothing in comparison to all that. That is an awesome mix of animals in one super animal. And I am that super animal. Oh and I will have all the humility in the world, you son of a donkey-butt.

But now I'm going to have a nap. And maybe some applesauce. And then watch out because I will never need sleep again.

Your dominatrix,
David "King of Pain" Rae

Things quickly changed after this.

Like Comparing Wet T-Shirt Contests to Dry T-Shirt Contests

Near my place there is a donut place (some call it a "shop" or "shoppe") it's got the greatest deal in the world. You can go there past 11 at night and get a bag of donut for $2! Two dollars! That's it! And the donuts are still awesome. Clearly people don't know about this enough! The end of the world's hunger problems is contained in the bags of donuts. I mean I have a heart for the hunger problem and I think I have the solution. People think that I can't solve hunger. That hunger will always exist because of human greed. I laugh at them, because this idea compared to other ideas is like comparing wet t-shirt contests to dry t-shirt contests.

They should set up donut shops in Africa and then people in the village could come after 11 and give a couple of bucks and get a bag of donuts that could feed a whole family for a day. It's foolproof. Wait, they don't really have money, do they? They couldn't really pay for the donuts. In fact, it would be kind of flaunting the donuts in their faces. Oh man. Well, perhaps there can be someone from the tribes that could be sent over to Canada and then they stay at my place...no there's not really room...ok we find them another place and then they go to the donut store every night and ship the donut's home. That doesn't work either. The shipping would be atrocious. But wait, doesn't the commercial say that a dollar a day feeds a family or something? So that means that they must be getting just dirt cheap bags of donuts from somewhere.

Where would that be? Oh man. I gotta find this place. Find the dirt cheap donuts. All this time I've been paying $2 for a bag of donuts like a sucker. That's it, I'm going to find this supply of cheap donuts and keep them for myself. Who cares about Africa? What about me?

Except I won't Call Them "Deep Throat" Because That Guy Was Named After a Porno

I thought that I would post a little known Dave secret. Actually, for those who've talked to me in the past few days, it really isn't a secret. I mean, if you've seen me at all, I've probably told you already. Or if I saw you walking across the street, I would yell to you my secret, but if you were coming in my direction and I had a little time, maybe I'd wait for you to get to me and then I would momentarily forget what I was about to say, you'd check your watch, and then I'd remember and finally tell you my secret.

In fact, the people that I haven't told don't have an inkling. I guess that's usually the case when you don't tell them. Anyway, the people I haven't told would most likely crush their spirits.

Anyway, my secret is this: I'm about to appear in the worst movie ever written by a human. I'm not even going to tell you the title so that if you look for a bad movie that I'm in, you wouldn't know where to look...and I'll use a fake name. The whole reason I got involved was because I thought, "Be in a movie? That'd be great" and then after I agreed I read the script and wished that I hadn't doomed myself to artistic suicide. The reason it is even a secret is because aside from myself and another individual (whom I will keep anonymous. It's kind of like my Deep Throat. Except I won't call them "Deep Throat" because that guy was named after a porno) the others seem to put forth that this is actually a good script. Drugs, perhaps? Brain washing?

Now you have background to the event that happened on Sunday. On Sunday, we were supposed to start filming. My spirit was at a crushing low. We get out there and we find out that one of the actors did not show and wasn't answering the phone. Oh well, I guess we can't shoot. Ah no.

Then the others were saying stuff like "Oh, I can't believe this guy!" or "He is going to be replaced".

He was treated like he was the villain in the story. Like he was trying to bring down the idea of freedom from America.

Apparently, I may have been the only one to think that perhaps he was a hero. He should be awarded a minor medal. He is my role model.

It kind of reminds me of Louis Riel and his rebellion. Some think he's a villain, but I think he's a hero. Except this hero doesn't go crazy and run around a battlefield with a cross and saying nonsensical proclaimations. That was Riel. Not this guy. Yeah, that wasn't Riel's best moment. It kind of hurts the analogy a little bit in fact.

I Deserve to Have Food Summoning Powers

What a wonderful technologically advanced era I live in. It's great. I get to listen to free internet music that I get to choose. I get to play video games. Watch movies. Talk to people far away on my cell phone. I can do a lot of stuff. All at my finger tips. It's great. God has truly blessed me. I mean what more could I want. Or need. I guess if it were possible to create food out of thin air, that would be awesome. But I mean aside from that, there is no where to go. I'd have all the stuff I have now and a food summoning machine. That's it. Life would be set. And maybe like a hover car. That's only if they get around to it. I don't think it would happen, but it does, that'd be just peachy to have. And it's not like I deserve one anyway. I mean who do I think I am? Why should I demand more, right? Just because I'm North American and am a good-hearted individual who gives of his time and energy to promote good as best I can, why should I expect more? Wait. Why shouldn't I? This is incredible. This is like a break through. I've never thought of this before. Of course I deserve more. Look at me. I'm hot. I'm large and in charge. I have a drama degree for goodness' sake. I shouldn't be on the same plane as the rest of you common peasant folk. I deserve to have food summoning powers and a hover car, no hovering abilities and telepathy. Man, I've just been too humble for way too long. What about me for once? That's it I'm out of here to burst in and demand my rights even if I don't know what my rights are. Who's with me?!

Telling Some Guy That His Cookies Suck Will Get You Kicked Out of Anything

I officially joined the "Shrugging Off the Responsibility of Blogging" which is a nation-wide group of bloggers who are committed to stating awesome blogs and then leave all the people who read in the dark and never posting ever again. That's why there's a lack of posting. But I was recently kicked out for my comments that I had at our convention when I said, "Isn't there something better we could be doing than wasting taxpayers' money on flying to Ottawa just to try out some guy's cookies. You guys are all losers. You taunt people and destroy their lives of dependency on our wit or in some cases ignorance. Besides, the cookies weren't even that good." Telling some guy that his cookies suck will get you kicked out of anything.

Besides, I've been doing a lot of other writing and when you write a sketch and then you think, "Hey, I could write in my blog," that's when your creativity is at it's lowest. That's because small gremlins come and steal away the creativity and put it into a small cage and make fun of it. Mind you, it's not too harsh. Usually they just mock the style of clothing and about how the creativity smells like something they think smells bad, which is like good for the rest of us. Like when a gremlin says, "You smell like flowers," he's actually trying to insult you. So, I mean the creativity is intact, it's just inconvenienced and "insulted".

Oh, and I have wonderful news. It seems as though my wisdom tooth is coming in wrong and is creating just the greatest sense of euphoria, that makes me want to continue to have the tooth cause me vast amounts of pain, because that is just what I'm looking for right now.

Sarcasm doesn't really come out in writing very well. Anyways, I plan to go to the tooth doctor or "tooth dentist" and I think he'll solve it by putting leeches on the teeth so that it can suck out the sick inside that was put there by witches.