Day Eight: "Did Someone Try the 'Vengeful Ninja' or 'The Pajama Man'?"

Having just finished the Vancouver leg, I just realized that it has been a busy one. I wanted to post a note on here earlier, but for various reasons I was not able to. So thus, I am going to do a bit of a rundown and share with you possibly my greatest con that I have pulled off.

First of all, we shot the entirety of a video for the Early Night Show which I am super excited about. It was nice to use a location that is different than Winnipeg for videos. Vancouver (as well as Victoria) has a distinct look and feel. The only thing that I'm concerned about is the audio because we can only use the mic on the camera and I was competing with the traffic. If some shots didn't work, I will have to cheat Winnipeg for Vancouver. I think the Exchange will do. We'll see.

A fun thing I got to do was do a couple of photo shoots with Caitlin, photographer-extraordinaire-in-training. I need to create a poster and other advertising for my Early Night Show on May 2nd as well, I want to create a DVD of some of my videos that I have done since Mr. Chapel. The theme of the Early Night Show this time around is one of a kind of "down but not out" thing. For it, the image I wanted to have was one where I was beat up but it still kind of funny. So we gave me a black eye and made up some fake blood and dirtied up my coat and went to the parking garage in Aaron and Cait's apartment building. We took over two-hundred shots and pared it down to two and I am extremely happy with we have. Aaron did a little photo shop magic and I have a poster that I can't wait to unveil.

I have decided to call the DVD "Hipster Nerd Wannabe" and it's going to have a shot of me with my coffee spilled over my shirt and the back with another shot trying to squeeze the coffee out. It looks good right now and I can't wait to see the final product. I hope to have it done by the time the show comes around.

I have spent my days exploring the city and working. Aaron and Caitlin were both busy for most of the time I was here and I would hang out with them as much as I could. It was good to see these two and I know I will miss them very much when I leave tomorrow. It's funny to think that I have not really gone to any touristy things and I'm glad. I don't particularly care to do that. Making videos and doing photo shoots are much more entertaining.

Alright I think it's time for the story. A couple nights ago, after a full day with Aaron and Cait, I went off to spend a couple of hours by myself. I felt it was important to make sure I have that time to reflect and have that alone time so that way I don't get too distant while I hang out with them. I headed down to the shore of White Rock about 8:30 and walked around. I walked down the boardwalk and took in the night sky and went to a local Irish pub called Jimmy Flynn's and sat down at a table to work in my raggedy old notebook. I was working on the live segments of the Early Night Show and trying to get some of that out of the way. I was listening to my music and tuning out the world.

However, something caught my attention. I noticed a guy at the next table trying to talk to a woman at another table in my corner of the bar. He looked middle-aged, although it looked like he could be older and was just aging better than most. My dad was like that, too. He had a bit of a British accent and had a local beer in his hand and was trying to smooze the lady the best he could. She on the other hand was just trying to get some work done. I had noticed when I came in that she was working away on a small notepad with her glass of wine. She was middle-aged, although she was definitely pulling off the sexy librarian thing and I could see why the guy was trying his luck. I was interested because I have never been witness to that kind of pick up especially when the woman is pleasantly turning him down and I wanted to see what would happen.

I remove of my earbuds and listen in to the guy's pitch to encourage her to join him. She was claiming that she just came here to write and not to talk. He counters that she could write at his table instead and join him and his friend (who was trying to stay out of the whole affair). She continues to keep him at bay. He starts asking about what she's writing about and she mentions that it's about emotional logic (whatever that means) and he asks what does that mean and she decides that she doesn't really want to get into it.

He tries another angle to keep the conversation and glances over at me and sees that I have been eavesdropping and asks her, "And who's this? Your boyfriend?"

She glances over and looks at me and says, "Yep, he is."

He looks back at me, "Really?"

"Absolutely," I figured she wanted some help and that this might be fun.

He thens go onto ask about why we weren't seated together at the same table. She says that this is what we do. I add that we like to have space to work. He continues to ask about the nature of what she's writing about and she says that her and I are working on a book together. I explain that we are here to do research and observe people.

He was still curious and tried to dig deeper and asked my fake girlfriend apparent about what this thing is about. She says, "Do you want to field this one, sweetheart?"

"We're working on an article for a sociological journal and we're hear just to observe people."

"That's what you're taking notes about?"

She interjects, "Yep".

"So, are you writing notes about me?"

I respond, "Yes, but we're just getting notes on everyone here."

"I don't know what I think about that."

I proceed to write that down.

"You're writing that down?"

"Yep."

"So you're saying that I could pick up a magazine and find an article by you two about me?"

"Not just you and not for a few months. We're doing a lot of research first."

We continue to maintain the illusion for the next hour, all the while playing a cat and mouse game about our names and trying to dodge the whole thing. She eventually relents and tells him that her name is Madison and I decided to go honest (because the easiest lie to maintain is the one closest to the truth) and told him I was David and that I'm Winnipeg and that I've only been in White Rock for a little while. He finally lets us know that he is John and it continues and I start realizing that this guy is buying the fact that I am writing an article for a science journal with the help of my much older girlfriend (she said she was 46 which totally makes her a cougar).

Eventually, John (who has admitted to us that he has had a few to drink) needed to go to the washroom. While he was gone, Madison quickly stands up and comes over to me. "Ok, so what's your deal?"

"You mean, what am I doing here?"

"Yes."

"I'm just doing some writing."

"What kind of writing?"

"Comedy sketches."

"That is fantastic. I am having too much fun with this."

"Me too. This is great material."

"Yes, it is."

He comes back and we resume our positions and continue our finely crafted lie that I upkeep with diligently writing notes about what he was saying and describing him and even a quick sketch of him. Every once in a while, after he would say something apparently important, she would look over at me and ask, "You got that, right?". It was amusing because there were a few times that I thought it was obvious that we were lying. For instance, they were talking about some program that apparently is common and was named something like "Del Carnegie" or some such thing and he asks me if I knew about it or read about it and I was not going to get caught in something that I had no idea about and as I said "No," Madison was trying to be intuitive and caught herself before she contradicted me and said "Of course...he doesn't."

The other close call was when one of the servers came up to Madison and asked, "Do you want another one, Nancy?" John was confused and she said that she always liked Madison and sometimes went by that. For some reason he bought it.

At one point I couldn't really hear him too well, so I decided to get a little closer and used the opportunity to slide my stool next to Madison/Nancy and casually put my arm up on the ledge behind her to make it look like my arm was around her. I wanted to maintain the illusion and when the bills came, I quickly snatched hers up and paid for it (that made my two drinks suddenly way more expensive). It was now midnight and the bar was closing and I had been there for three hours. John was suggested that the three of us should get together again for dinner sometime. She said maybe and gave her number to her to arrange a time. I wanted to maintain the illusion for as long as we could and we walked out with my arm around her and then linked arms as we walked down the street. Once clear of the restaurant we separate and have a mighty good laugh. It was at this point that I noticed that she was having a little bit of trouble walking. She said she was parked just a little bit up and I suggested that maybe she shouldn't drive. I was willing to walk with her home. Instead she asked if I was good to drive (I was) and then gave me the keys to her Escalade.

"You do realize you just gave your keys to some guy who just met tonight and is your fake boyfriend?"

I drive her home and get out when she asks, "Do you want to come up for a glass of wine?"

"No, I probably shouldn't."

She wishes me well and to keep up the writing and I go back to the apartment.

Man, sometimes lying is the best thing you can do.

"And would you cry if I told you that I lied?

And would you say goodbye or would you let it ride?

Good bye, hard life, don't cry, would you let it ride?"

-"Let It Ride" from Bachman-Turner Overdrive's second self-titled album

I'm Hoping that at Some Point I Can Rate a Movie as "Shit Sandwich"

So I was on Breakfast Television today and it was a good experience. I've never been on TV or anything, and it was all so new. I had no idea what to expect, and I was feeling a little nervous about the whole thing, that I was going to trip on a cord and unplug everything, or accidentally fight the host until only one person walks away alive. But it was good. Jon made me feel right at home and as the segment went along I did alright for my first time. I even made the guy laugh a couple of times out loud. He asked me if "Definitely, Maybe" was a chick flick and I said, "Yes, it definitely is. It was a little awkward watching it with the roommate" and he lost it for a moment. That felt good. Afterward he was saying to other people that he found the new permanent movie review guy. Mind you, he could be just saying things as passing comments, especially since I was so close to fighting him. He had it coming. But with me now pacified, I think he may had been legitimate, so I might be back. I'm hoping that at some point I can rate a movie as "shit sandwich". I don't think it will happen though. It would be funny, but won't happen. Now, I have to focus on writing scripts for videos. Oh, man. So much to do...

A Cyanide Pill Gets You Out of Many a Hairy Situation

Ok, so I have had a request to finish my story from January 20th, 2006. That's a good a place as any to start up blogging again. I finally have my computer up and going and I am ready for the oncoming onslaught of blog action. In case you do not have my whole blog memorized via date, go ahead and refresh yourself on the story. I am going to pick up the story from where I am about to go on the pre-date with a girl who may or may not be aware of the fact I like her. The pre-date is a beautiful system that allows me to test the waters and see if I even see any potential without all the dramatics of official dates. Unfortunately, with the fact that the girl I am about to go out on a pre-date with is now potentially compromised, I am in uncharted territories. I take a cyanide pill with me in case things go a rye.

We wind up going down to the Forks (a grand Winnipeg landmark) and spending the morning together and it was ok. I knew that we wouldn't work as a couple or whatever. As a pre-date, it would have been perfect. I could have walked away and no hurt feelings. But alas, as she was driving me home, I knew that if she didn't know now that I had a crush on her, she would know soon. I had to do something otherwise this weird feeling would hang over the friendship. I didn't know what to do.

And then it came to me. There was only one way out. But as I was about to swallow the cyanide, a better idea came to me.

It was an idea that would resolve everything with no hurt feelings.

I turned to her and said in an apathetic kind of way, "Hey, so I wondering if you want to go on a date or something."

It was brilliant.

She said no. She dropped me off and that was that. It didn't hurt me because I didn't want the date anymore and she gets the benefit of not having to guess whether or not I liked her.

Of course, if you're reading this, it is quite arguable that I asked her out with intent and that I'm just giving you an excuse that makes it seem like I wanted her to say no. But I guess you will have to believe my word. And if you don't believe me then that's fine, a cyanide pill gets you out of many a hairy situation.

As a side note, I should that the other girl that I liked turned into another debacle worthy of a hilarious romantic comedy with out the romantic part.

You Kick Your Heroine Habit By Entering "Jig Therapy"

Here's another story to hold you over as I try to scramble to finish my script for my play. I was just reminded of it today. It happened back when I was in my first year at Prov when I was a simple newbie to the drama program. I was hungry for parts and acting and free cookies from the cafeteria. The college life of Prov was so engaging. I even created my own work of drink perfection in what I call "Chocolate Beer" in which I combined root beer with chocolate milk to concoct what I thought what was the equivalent of money in cup and later money in the digestive tract. Anyway, that has nothing to what I want to talk about which is of course, my first acting part on stage at Prov. Actually, I don't want to talk about that. Essentially, I did what actors do which must be common knowledge. You read the script, you read it again, you memorize the script, you memorize it again, you eat the script, you spit it back up, you tape it back together, you practice it, you block it, you "get into character", you do acting exercises like becoming a walnut, you listen to the ocean sounds of the prairie, you fast, you make a robot, you read the script once more, you take a quick cat nap, you pick out your costume, you burn down your neighbour's asherah pole, you read a Shakespeare play, you then read a play that makes sense, you read your script, you threaten to quit for a week, you make a crazy demand like wanting a trip to the moon, you do a jig, you call your director a jerk, you do another jig, you memorize the script one more time, you practice it with the other actors, you pick up a trendy heroine habit, you do another jig, you kick your heroine habit by entering "jig therapy", you get on stage and perform. That's all that acting is.

What I want to talk about is actually during the performance of the play. I was on the stage as Kenicki of Grease fame and I was about to destroy the phone booth from Bill and Ted's excellent adventure (I am not even vaguely making that up). It was a difficult role to do because I have never seen Grease or read it or listen to the music or performed a jig to it. However, I did better in that role than I did the off stage portrayal of Dr. Grant from Jurassic Park and my role as Elvis (both of which were also in the same play I should add. It's a complicated story). Anyway, I was supposed to destroy the phone booth and attempted to use a baseball bat, but it was not yielding the results that I desired, so I kicked it over and attempted to frog splash it. This worked because it was not a real phone booth, but rather a refrigerator box. It collapsed underneath my weight and flattened. Little did I think that the box when flattened would emit enough force to be able to kick out the frame that held up a black curtain. The frame and curtain then fell forward on top of me, whacking me on the back of the noggin and covering me like in a cartoon. People were taken aback and through their laughter I realized their concern for my well being. I then wrestled my way out from underneath the curtain and ad libbed "Take that!" It pretty much immortalized the play. That's true acting ability. Being able to make clumsiness look like you are "acting".

So what can you learn from this. Absolutely nothing. If you think there is some grand lesson to be learned in this event. You are looking too hard. Although, there is the acting lesson of knowing how much time to spend jigging and the answer is there is never too much time spent jigging.

That Glimmer of Hope Was Vomitted Upon By the Cruel Demon of Reasons for Suicide

Ok, so I know for those who have spent any significant amount of time talking to me know that I am frustrated with the dating scenario in my life. Or more like the lack of one. Things are usually convoluted and strange. And I don't know how it happens.

But as of tonight, I have another weird story to add to the pile. My good brother, Darwin, invited me out to his company's party which happen to take place at Celebrations Dinner Theatre. I always wanted to go but it was so expensive for one meal. That's why I was all over it. I'll take any meal that's free.

I arrived by bus to the restaurant and I was ready for laughter and tears and heck, maybe I'll even learn something. I walk to the doors and see Darwin and go up to him. It was not long before I was accosted by one of his co-workers.

"Is that your brother, Darwin? Is he single?"

I should have lied. Said I had a girlfriend. But it was too late.

Now, I don't usually believe in auras. But if you could summarize "maneater" in an aura, that was the feeling I garnered from within moments of encountering her. I don't know what I mean by "maneater", but it seems suitable.

Apparently, I am tall and that is the thing that won her over. Apparently, she thought that we looked like a good couple when we stood together. She gave me her number. Actually, that is how I learned her name. Her name was on the piece of paper with her number on it. By this point, I have barely gotten my coat off and have said maybe ten words total since entering the building.

I wanted to leave. As we stood in line, she was playfully telling Darwin that he was in her way and that she wanted to stand next to me. I thank the Lord above that Darwin gets along with her and while he did that, I could quietly pray for sweet death.

One hope that I had was that the tickets to get inside indicated a specific table and seat. And ours were nowhere near her. That glimmer of hope was vomited upon by the cruel demon of reasons for suicide. We were let in and as long as we sat where the company had tables reserved, we could sit anywhere! Yea for freedom of choice!

Fortunately, Darwin and I got it first and I'm a fast thinker and quickly proceeded towards a table and went for the far chair so that there was only one chair next to me. Darwin sat there. It was fortunate that Darwin sat there, because The Crazy was hot on our tails. She sat next to Darwin. She then continued to complain that he was in her way of sitting next to me. Normally, I'm not a fan of Darwin's unending stubbornness, but it saved me tonight. I then pointed out to her that if she wanted to talk to me, she would talk to me and not be seemingly flirting with my brother.

That was the mistake of the night that led her to move to the seat across from me. Damn.

I was hoping that if I could imagineer a way out of my physical body, that I could escape. She then noted that I didn't talk much. I responded that the only thing that was talked about so far was how she wanted to flirt with me. She said she was trying. It was trying in the same way, that old, dying donkeys try not to fart so much.

I needed a strategy change. I figured if I could prove that we did not match up at all, then the whole thing would disappear. I needed to draw all my powers of awkwardness to full fruition in order to end it. I've been doing that since I hit puberty. And all my awkward dating scenarios having been prepping me for this night. I would need all my strength and skills of strange jokes and terrible social negotiations to make sure it ended right.

I go about trying to have a conversation by asking her what she likes, what she does and the like. Normal questions. Or so I thought. All her answers were "I don't do that" or "no" or "country music" and if there could be a vague possibility of innuendo in a question, she would say, "You don't want to know what I'm thinking." But no matter what, they were always dead end answers. Yet, if there was a long pause, she would demand that I talk and keep the conversation going.

Of course, when I told her about the things I like, it was like trying to explain how to make the perfect crumble cake to a dead otter. She knew the name of Johnny Cash. That was it. She may have known that he was a musician, although the jury is still out on that one. She didn't know anything about Nirvana, because "that guy is dead, right?" In fact, if the person was dead, it was a strong chance that she didn't know anything about them.

She has no interests in sports, hardly watched movies, barely any TV (except for "Dr. Phil"), did not read, did nothing in the creative realm, has no aspirations.

Her reaction to finding out that I want to be a mortician was an audible gag reflex. She was horrified that any human would want such a job.

Things were going well. Or so I thought.

To my horrified surprise, she still thought we would make a great couple. Apparently good conversation is not necessary. Or the fact that we share nothing in common (me liking anything at all and her not). Or the fact that my future profession nauseates her.

The night ended and I told Darwin that I never want to see her ever again.

The thing that bothers me most of about this night is the fact that the one person who is obvious about liking me, is clearly desperate. I mean, is it really a compliment if the person is desperate? I mean, it would be completely different if the girl wasn't so over the top at the start or even if we actually shared anything in common, but there wasn't. This girl didn't want me, she wanted anyone. That is so depressing. People tell me that I will find someone someday. I'm assuming that they are talking about someone that likes me and wants to be with me. Some one that I will enjoy being with. Someone that I love and cherish. However, it seems like I might have to settle for some one who likes me because I'm tall.

Debacle of '05

Gather round my children for I will take you by the hand and lead you into the mysts of time and show you what could very well be the funniest/worst/funniest again week of my life. Mortal men would have been brought to the brink of sorrow and lapped up the murky water of devastation that would give them a tapeworm of depression. But I prevailed due to the fact that I used a Brita filter.

Let me take you back to the summer of 2005, when I was on Mr. Chapel. One of our stops was cancelled, but a friend of Jessica and myself from our year of CBC invited our group out to her place in Cochrane, Alberta where we would perform at some Remax event. It sounded ok and so we agreed. Our path to our battle of Evermore began.

We arrive at her parents ranch which covers a vast piece of land. They clearly do well for themselves. Her father has the classic rancher look. Full on beard, wears the cowboy hat along with those weird multicolored collared shirts. He's also very conservative. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I am trying to paint the picture of the scenario in which the Debacle of '05 rests. He used to work with lighting or sound or something and had come to not like actors very much. Mind you, all of us, with the exception of our one tech, were actors. But I was the creator, the writer, and director. I felt perpetually uneasy around the guy. I think he even smelled my fear. Cowboys can smell fear. Or is that dogs?

Either way, we had a week before we performed. And then it hit that we were going to perform for kids. With Mr. Chapel. Mr. Chapel goes over the head of some adults. It's satire. I could see how this is going to end. It was like being handed a prophecy. However, the daughter and the father both assured me that kids would like it, because I had a superhero in it. I tried to explain that the superhero was only a small part of the grander show. But like how the prophet is not listened to in his hometown, the actor is never listened to. We don't know anything about engines and hockey, so concordantly we don't know anything. Even the stuff I learned about.

Anyway, we had time before the performance at the end of the week, which I was predicting to be an unmitigated disaster. And you may be thinking that that is the thing I am referring to that brings me the previously unattained level of angst in my life. You are mistaken and you should just let me tell the story!

People thought it would be fun to maybe ride the horses. People typically think that horses are fun. I don't know why. But being that I am a fan of comradery, I agreed to go. But knowing that there was a good chance that I would fall off, decided to wear clothes that could get dirty. In this case, it was baby blue hockey jersey for some backwater team along with a checkered pants and grey cowboy boots. I looked like an idiot. When they were deciding who got what horse, they gave me the one closest to death and who was a show horse. They assured me that a show horse are trained to never gallop and the fact that he's old means he wouldn't want to anyway. I fell for that and got on the horse. The horse was also in on it and was behaving just fine as we went around in a circle in the training yard. That is the not the name of the area, but I am actor.

Once we got used to the basic stuff, it was decided that we would hit the dusty trail. It started off fine. Everybody was sharing laughs, talking about how their horse and how much they missed Full House. I don't actually remember due to the fact my horse wanted to go another way. As we headed down the road, my horse veered against my will towards the neighbours house. Now let me set the record straight, I didn't panick. I remember what I was supposed to do and that was to pull on the reins. And that's what I did. But the demon horse started to pick up speed instead. It was a mere trot, but it was mere trot away from where I'm supposed to be. I started to yell "Whoa!" along with the tugging. This made the horse go inexplicably faster. Despite my feeble attempts to stop the animal that is five times my weight, it sped to a gallop, the apparent thing that the horse is unable to do. It was a miracle! Unfortunately, the horse was headed towards a fence and I was thinking that show horses that have never galloped probably have never jumped fences either. I then thought that this may very well be my death or at the very least, it would go all Christopher Reeve on me. What? Oh, the Reeve comment? Too soon?

Anyway, the horse realized it could jumped, so it slowed down and turned around. I thought that I was safe, but the horse then continued on it's terrorizing rampage and went back towards all my friends at blistering speed. I then started to think that I was going to be sent headlong into one of them. It was at this point that Shannon, the girl who brought this death trip upon my head, come to meet me and stopped my horse. I looked over to see the father, who had watched a horribly dressed clown of an actor being tossed around like a rag doll on the back of a dying show horse. Strike one.

It turns out that when you tug on the reins and yell "whoa" while you also dig your heels into it's sides, you are sending "mix signals".

Two days later, we go quadding a thing I haven't really done before. It was fine and funny. We got muddy, we didn't crash, the thing didn't misinterpret me to the point that it almost killed me. We get back, turn them off and put on clean clothes. It turns out that you need to do something to drain something from the something in order to stop it from leaking something on their lawn and killing a large patch of grass. I was informed of this later and I asked the mother and daughter if the father was mad. They said, "He'll get over it." In other words, he was extremely upset. Strike two.

It came to the day in which we had to perform. I was more anxious than ever. I find out that the show is for little kids, not even junior highs who would be able to catch some of it. I accepted this fact as I got ready to move things into this igloo of a tent. I got into the van, started it up and moved forward, the van lurched and was up on something. I then heard yelping. I looked out my window and saw that the 15 passenger was currently standing on top of the father's favourite dog. I said "uh oh" and put it in reverse and back off. The dog runs off yelping and crying. Strike three.

Didn't see that one coming did you?

People arrive and the father starts advertising the show and they got all the kids excited to go. And as I looked upon their smiling faces, I knew that it was like I was sending them to the death of their joy. The kids all crowd into the tent. We have our screen up and start to perform. And every time we come out to do the next sketch we lose half the crowd. By the end, we had like five kids in there. All of which were the older kids. If I could've swore so loud that I would've finished off the dog who whimpering over it's wounds. The thing that I was supposed to be good at was one of the biggest disasters of the week. I was talking to the father afterward and he was clearly not satisfied. Strike four.

I only had 36 more hours before we would be out of there. 16 of those hours would be spent sleeping. How hard could it be?

Two hours later, the daughter came up to me and told me to go chase the llamas again. You see, two days before, when we were out in the pasture I jokingly tried to pet their llamas and the llamas would run away and I looked hilarious for trying to run after them. It was quoted as being "entertaining". So I figured, why not? Maybe I will regain some of my lost status. You know, any of it. So John and I tried to trap them and people were laughing. It was great. Then I got tired and that was enough. But then I noticed that the llamas were still running. In fact they were running for entrance to the whole ranch. I said "uh oh" and ran through a wooded area, jumping over fallen branches and through the thickets to head them off at the gate. The llamas saw me and actually picked up the pace and one of them escaped out the front. I hung my head low and walked back to Shannon. She, her sisters and the rest of Mr. Chapel helped me to go track them down. I was hoping it would be me who would bring it back, but it wasn't. Strike five.

I spent the whole week trying to not be the stereotypical idiot of an actor and instead fulfill and even move the step beyond to fulfilling the characture of an actor. It was awkward. It was one of the worst blows of the summer and it was only the first week of touring.

I was thinking that I should pull out a final stunt and ask permission to marry one of his daughters (of which he is very protective). Maybe the one who was eighteen. That would have been awesome. The main reason I didn't would be the fact that he may very well murder me. And I'm pretty sure I would not be able to fight him.

This is a "Sidewalk", Not a "Jack Me of All My Money Area"

People often think that I can't handle myself. They think that because I have never been from the "hood" or from the "streetz" or from the "soowerz" or just because I have never owned "gat" or have never "pulled the strap from the nine" or know what a "grill" is or just because "rap music frightens me" or I punch like an "infant" that I am somehow unable to handle myself in the city. And that is proposterous!

One night, I was out going around in a walk-type manner and I was taking in the fresh cold air, thinking about fine wines, fine clothes, and fine ladies and fine ladies wearing fine clothes and drinking fine wines and then being taken in by my fine charms. It was while I was having this magical journey of self that I saw someone walking my way on the street. I was fine with this, because that is what a sidewalk is for. "Walk" is right in the word and who am I to argue against this guy that he can't walk on it? I then moved over to one side of the sidewalk so that he may pass, because that is also suggested in the name.

As he approached me, he then veered towards me and pulled out an inch long blade and said to me "give me all your funky money". At least that is what I thought he said. He may have also replaced money with "monkey" but that doesn't make sense due to the fact that I clearly had no monkey on me. Although I did not necessarily discount the fact that maybe he wanted a monkey, because who wouldn't? I know I wouldn't but that is because they are high maintenance and if I would have had one, I would have given it to him. But the money thing seemed more likely and I was a bit incensed that he would demand my money. I mean, this is a "sidewalk", not a "Jack me of all my money area". I was only incensed for a split second as I realized that he was willing to cut me for my money (or monkey) and that is when I went into survival mode. My eyes opened wide and I paused a moment and then did the only rational thing and ran past him as fast as my gangly legs could take me. He started running after me, but I was much faster. Probably due to the fact that I walk a lot and unlike him who probably focused on his knife work or possibly homemade Christmas cards. He gave up and then turned to walk away as I ran for the safe haven of a Burger King. I noticed that he turned away.

At this moment, I knew that I could survive on the streets or streetz. And I did the only rational thing to do at that time. I yelled out, "EAT IT!" and then I went to go into the Burger King for safety. I got to the doors and to my horror, found that they were locked for the night. I checked to make sure that the mugger was not following me. He wasn't so I went home.

In hindsight, I should've followed him at a distance and called the police on him, but that was not on my mind as "I don't want to get stabbed" or "shanked" if you will.

The Day I Learned How to Love a Woman and to Scold a Child

To state the obvious, the Nintendo Wii is great. I can play old games from my childhood. Including one that has unleashed a floodgate of memories and nostalgia that makes me sigh. The game itself is not that good. It's quite not good in fact. But, I will play it because of what it reminds me of. What game could possibly stir up such feelings in a 23 year old man who is renewing the landscape of intellectual thought through inspirational blogging and Guitar Hero rock solos? It is none other than Ice Hockey. Now, it doesn't bring back memories of me playing hockey (although if I was a player in the game, I would definitely be one of the skinny guys that are quick like a mongoose but are easily knocked over like a toddler learning to walk). I never even played hockey. Except once. It was a game versus the girls' hockey team (I even got a shot on net and when I say "shot", I mean I fell and the puck moved towards the goalie).

Anyway, the memories summoned by the game are two fold. For one, it is from when I played with my dad and he would always comment on the sloppy job of the zamboni operators that cleaned the ice during the second intermission (he was a zamboni operator himself for the Brandon Wheat Kings).

The other memory is none other than that dark day that would revolutionize the very core of my being. It was the day I became a man. It was the day I learned how to love a woman and to scold a child. The epic nature of the event would be recalled by numerous bards and passed along to following generations as a story of hope and cooking recipes. I was seven at the time. I was young and naive. The world was wonderful. Smells delighted me and I enjoyed the sunshine on my face. Little did I realize, I would grow up fast that day. It was May 19th, 1990. I was in the dining room, next to the TV, set up with my bowl of Golden Grahams, my obligatory glass of milk and a Nintendo controller in my hand as I was playing none other than Ice Hockey.

I was the Canadians, of course, and I was playing against the USSR. I was winning as was usually the case. And that's when I heard the crash of metal on metal and the shattering of glass. With my curiousity piqued, I went to investigate. But I wasn't irrational. I made sure to pause my game, because I was not going to let the commies catch me with my pants down. I then proceeded to the porch, but before I got there, a miniature apocalypse slammed into my reality and the house in which I stood lurched under the command of a thunderous collision. I was thrown from my feet and was launched into the door frame. I then reacted in the most rational response for a 7 year old and that was to run around in circles, screaming. This would usually solve most other problems in my life, but it didn't seem to work this time. The house was still shaking. I then tried to run for the back door of the house. When I got there unscathed, I composed myself and went outside. It is then that I saw two city buses crashed into the side of my house.

We would move into a hotel later that day. Normally, this would shake a child's world, but for me it would be the greatest blessing of my life. For the next five weeks, I had access to cable TV and was able to rent Super Mario Bros. 3 from a store a couple a blocks away. Wisemen believe in God when they see a mighty work by His Right Hand. And that's what happened to me when I got to play the most cutting edge in Mario technology.

Of course, I could've died that day. The two buses hit the porch I was headed for and it has been my experience that a child versus two city buses is a little lobsided for the buses (because there's two of them and only one of the child). But because I learned my lesson well of pausing my video games, I did not make it to the porch so that I would have become just another statistic of deaths due to buses hitting your house.

Oh, Ice Hockey, you bring that good lesson back to me every time I play you.

The Story of the "24" Day Revealed in "24: Revelation of the Day of 24 Exposed"

So I have received a request to tell about the 24 day that I put on for my good friend, Chris Klowak (who recently got married) as wedding present. I figured I would not be able to give a better gift than this. And because it was so much work, I figure it may be good to keep a record of it for memories? I guess. I don't know. I can just see myself being an old man and wishing to remember the good old days, but I can't remember. Actually I have that problem now.

Anyway, this is the plot line of the day. And if you don't know the 24 references, I'm not going to explain them.

The following takes place between 11pm on Thursday night and 11pm on Friday night.

After taking his Nadine home Chris arrives home to see a DVD on his table that says "Watch at exactly 2300". He does to watch a CTU agent, Chad Merchant (ME!) tracking down a bad guy connected to a mafia type group. Chad takes him down, interrogates him about a transaction that is going down in the city later that day. Apparently the mafia, who is located in Toronto is trying to sell a vial of the Cordella virus from the terrorist attack in Los Angeles three years ago. An American patriot group called Eagle Splendor is looking to buy it and is sending a person to come buy it and it is going down in Winnipeg. The informant is killed by a sniper before he could leak anymore. CTU then tries to start tracking the sniper and tries to dig up info on what was given to Chad. Chad in the meantime tries to track down the sniper. CTU debates over whether or not to activate Jack Bauer, with Chad being one of the most vocal opponents. Finally, Aaron Ibzin is shown in a limo headed for the airport in Los Angeles. He is talking to a shadowy figure that assures him that CTU will be taken care of. Ibzin is concerned with the fact that Jack Bauer is in the city.

A few minutes later, Chris receives a call from Chad who tells him that for next 24 hours, Chris Klowak is effectively non-existant. He is now Jack Bauer, because CTU is in need of another field agent. The real Jack Bauer is dead, but only Chad is actually aware of this, so, he has set up a fake id and is making Klowak step up. Tells him to get plenty of rest before the day starts.

6am: Jack is called to go to a residence which is a middle man in the transaction. Jack needs to break in and get a hold of a file located on the computer that is thought to hold the information for the transaction. It seems as though Chad has a dislocated shoulder and cannot do it himself and the terrorists and mafia alike are aware of what he looks like. So Jack sneaks in and by the middleman, gets to the file and sneaks out. The messae talks of the airport and a Phil Corseley. The two head to the airport. Chad calls CTU to get background on Corseley who turns out to be a driver for a driving company and CTU was able to track the current location of the his car which is at a Tim Horton's on Portage.

7am: Jack and Chad head to Horton's and locate the driver. Jack spills chocolate milk on him which causes Corseley to get upset and cause a scene. As Corseley goes to the washroom, Jack steals the keys to the car, gets in the car and drives to the airport and poses as the driver.

8am: Ibzin's plane lands after delays and is picked up by Jack and is driven out. Jack drugs Ibzin's coffee and when Ibzin is drugged, Jack takes him to CTU (Covenant Church who CTU has invoked privaleges of the government to have a temporary headquarters in the city). Jack takes Ibzin's suit and heads to Frisco's to pose as Ibzin and to be picked up by the middleman, Benson who will take Jack to the transaction.

9am: Jack poses as Ibzin and meets with Benson and is taken to La Barriere park for the transaction. Once there, the mafia members turn on Benson, and stab her as Jack hangs back while Chad warns him the something is off. Jack hides as the mafia members go to there car. Jack checks Benson's body and gets her keys along with a decryption code. Jack also takes her car and follows the gangsters through the city in a car chase scenario.

10am: The chase ends at St. Vital mall and the gangsters go in and wait. Jack is told to do surveillance of the meeting and takes pictures and overhears that the two are waiting for the big boss. They receive a phone call and the boss has moved the meeting. They leave a package on the table by accident. Jack takes it and heads for the car.

11am: Jack goes back to CTU and hands over Benson's car. Jack has deciphered the message from the package of the gangsters with the code found in the pocket of Benson. Chad then drives Jack in a SUV and takes him to the TD tower downtown where he was to meet someone. Chad receives a call from CTU that says that Ibzin's has escaped custody of CTU. Chad drops off Jack and Jack goes to meet the contact. The contact turns out to be Ibzin. Jack chases him on foot through the underground mall, the MTS centre, and Portage Place and into the parking lot. Jack goes to grab him before Ibzin gets into the car. Chad comes in with gun drawn and forces Ibzin to give him the information. Ibzin hands over a package from the glove box. Jack runs with the package as Chad takes Ibzin into custody.

12pm: Jack is deciphering the clues on his paper which involves looking around downtown a little bit and he receives a call from Lauren at CTU and tells him to meet her at 12:40pm at the Louis Riel statue at the legislative building. Jack barely finishes putting together the puzzle to meet her and she tells him that there must be a mole at CTU because Ibzin's escape was an inside job. As they have this conversation, one of the gangsters that killed Benson a couple of hours earlier shows up. Jack and Lauren try to escape but are cornered in an alley and Lauren is shot as Jack is taken captive, thrown in the trunk of the car and taken away.

1pm: Jack sends out a call to Chad and asks for help. Chad can't get there right away because Chad is currently checking out a farm on the outskirts of Winnipeg where the virus was supposedly earlier that day. Chad tells him that he will track him down as soon as possible. Jack is taken in undisclosed location and is tied up, blindfolded and handcuffed. He is interrogated and asked questions. During the torture, he has a leg waxed and has an orange force fed to him.

2pm: Torture continues and Jack attempts an escape while the gangsters leave the room. He is caught shortly there after. Finally, the gangsters have had enough and are about to shoot Jack when Chad breaks in and shoots the gangster and frees Jack. Jack and Chad search the apartment for Jack's belongings.

3pm: They find everything and then look at the message that Jack was working on earlier. It says:
14
3:14
St. Mary's and Vista
Jack pieces it together as there might be a bus at that time and place. Jack gets some change from 7-11 and waits. He gets on the bus and sits there. Suddenly a package is dumped on his lap and a girl gets off. He tries to follow her but she loses him. The package is coded and the encryption is jumbled compared to before. He works on the puzzle and the answer is confusing. After a talk with Chad, it seems to indicate a library. Jack realizes he wasn't supposed to get off the bus and waits for the next one.

4pm: Jack gets downtown to the Millenium Library about 30 minutes before closing time. He looks for Gideon's Fear which he finds out is a book. In the book is another note that tells him to go to the fourth floor and look for a bell and to meet Sargent William Lee. He doesn't see a bell inside but one on the church across the road. He goes over and looks around outside for Lee, but sees noone. He then goes into the church where one of the workers lead him into the sanctuary and he is allowed to look around. He still can't see anybody inside, but then notices a plaque with the name Sargent William Lee. On the pew below is a Bible with a note stuck in Judges (the book where Gideon's story is found) that tells him to go to the Osbourne Bridge.

5pm: Jack goes to the bridge and tells Chad about it. Chad meets him there and they look around and Jack finds an orange cannister which is supposed to contain the virus. They take it back to CTU and Chad tells Jack that they have found out where the head of Hannick family is going to be at 6pm which will be at Applebee's. In order to prevent Chris's fiance from becoming suspiscious, Jack agrees to take Nadine on a previously agreed upon date to the same Applebee's.

6pm: Jack picks up Nadine and goes to the restaurant, eats a meal and descends upon Hannick in the washroom and interrogates him about the events of the day. Hannick tells him that his organization is falling apart and that someone else is trying to take control. It turns out Hannick had nothing to do with the day. Jack goes back into the restaurant and finds that Nadine is gone as well as Hannick's associate. He looks outside to no avail.

7pm: Jack receives a call from Chad to continue to look and then meet him at CTU. Jack does so and as he arrives, a familiar voice calls Jack and tells him that she has Nadine and if he ever wants to see her again, he will get the virus out of CTU and bring it to her. Jack reluctantly agrees and goes inside CTU. He confronts Chad and is highly suspicious of Chad's involvement in the day. Chad says that they were able to track the location of the gangsters to Providence College, that they took over by force. He tells Jack that that is where Nadine most likely is and that they can sneak in to get her out. Jack asks questions of Chad to check his truthfulness, and although the answers were not freeing, they were not damning either. He goes along with the plan for now. They pack up and head out.

8pm: They head out to Providence where Chad confides to Jack that he lost his wife to this job years earlier and that this job is a bitch, etc, etc. They get out to the college and break in and start looking around. It's a large building with a lot of patrols but Jack is able to stay hidden.

9pm: Jack tries to search the patrolled building and after a lot of subterfuge, finds Nadine unconscious in the top floor. The two sneak out and meet up with Chad who unleashes the cannister of the virus as a cover for the escape which causes a great orange cloud to go up into the air. When they get back to the SUV, it turns out Chad is shot. Nadine agrees to stay with him until an ambulance arrives. Chad tells him that the mole is thought to be trying to escape the city and that the mole is leaving by helicopter which will pick the mole up on the roof of the U of M parking garage. Jack rushes off.

10pm: Jack goes back to the city and arrives at the top level of the parking garage at U of M and confronts the mole who turns out to be Lauren. She faked her death earlier that day and was the one that set up all the surveillance inside CTU's mainframes. She asks him to spare her and she will take him to the source of today's problems. She takes him to Dave's apartment where people who helped all day are waiting and the clock turns to 11pm.

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!