Quality, Not Quantity: It's That Time Again

Note: I just edited out some of the things I wrote yesterday in this post. I think I said alot more than I needed to. Too late for the feed readers, but...Jeezus, it really is a good time for me to take this break.

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To anyone who gives a flaming shit, I'm taking some time away from the blog.

Other commitments in my life and just going to work every day are factors in this little hiatus of mine; they do cut into blogging time.

I've discovered I can actually write, and derive a deep gratification from it. But lately I've been caught up in trying to manifest interesting things to post about every other day. I don't enjoy feeling like I'm forcing things. I've reminded myself that I am not writing a daily newspaper column here. I have forgotten my own promise of no promises.

I have to say, I am in awe of all the bloggers out there who can and do post consistently, with energy, and with quality.

Thanks, fellow bloggers who've been reading and commenting here. I am learning a lot from you all. I'll still lurk around, perhaps creepily even, and comment on your posts because I enjoy reading your work. And the minute something strikes me that needs to be shaped into letters and sentences I shall post away...I don't think it will be too long before that happens.

Definitely not months, like the last time.

Alrighty then.

Knock Knock. Who's There?

Well, at the moment I am fresh out of posts, people. It's not that I have nothing to write - I got plenty to write about. I just don't have a post.

So much for "starting fresh in the morning!"

I feel like everything about everything is destined to be in a book, just by the stubborn interconnectedness of each aspect of my existence and because each aspect is too lengthy for a blog. I mean, I suppose I could post about how my day went.

I do have days.

I could talk about the mean old man who farted defiantly at me on the subway a couple of days ago. But I am afraid that is just too unsexy. I really don't wanna be associated with old fartfaces, right or wrong. However, if you really, really want to hear about fartman, just say the word and I'll post it quickly, but not without loudly announcing that it is at your request.

How's about strip club carryings-on? Eh, eh? Definitely sexier. Or there's the time I punched a guy out for his threatening me on the street. Now there's a good one, actually...hmm.

Ah, nevermind.

Not that you're not worth it, reader. You are worth it. Hell, I'm worth it. It's just that I have a hard time organizing my thoughts and condensing things sometimes, and it is definitely one of those times right now.

But before I sign off, allow me to leave you with the greatest l'il knock-knock joke ever. Know a better one? Pssh. I doubt it.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Interrupting cow.

Interrupting cow wh-

Moooooo.

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The Manic Monster Sleeps.

I was pretty happy about the review, though…obviously...alright,'nuff said…

Now that the drunken ranting has faded away and I'm left with that high-pitched tinnitis called regret, I can safely say that my insane gushing about my blog review should be one good indicator to all as to why I never made it in the acting biz, and perhaps why I shouldn't. In case anyone's wondering, yes, I am often socially stunned. A large, blind, manic idea will manifest from my deeps, something like that monster in Cloverfield.

It is called forth by mysterious forces: success, bedazzlement, or maybe environmental poisoning (I stopped writing thank-you letters to the omnipotent casting directors early on in my acting "career").

The monster is invariably pregnant with something, something that could destroy the natural world exponentially, of course. And it can't navigate to save its life or even the lives of its unborn – it obviously gets confused by the big city, and so enflames and crushes things for hours on end.

Bridges do burn...

I really should write more about the showbiz shit since I don't take pills.


Worst-Case Blog Scenario Survival Guide Tip #8: Post purdy pictures to distract. Start fresh in the morning.

I was going to cutely post about my recent trip to Halifax and the restaurants there, but I still haven't posted a post about my previous Halifax trip back in November. The train of pictures I took and scribbled things I tucked away is getting impacted beyond any hope of my ever weeding through it tonight.

So I found these Cuba pictures to try to distract y'all with instead. I took them the week of January 24 when I was there with le Kelle. Kelly.

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At the castle where I bought a cigar and a bottle of Caney rum.


My new friend.


A pit stop on the road in Mantanza province, at something-Del Frailes, where everyone drinks real cuban drinks and uses the washroom.


At some museum.


In old Havana, you'll see bitches sleep in the streets. It takes some getting used to.


Neptune!

This shot is less about Havana and much more about Kelly's magnificent healing mammaries.

Goodnight.

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The Last Mixed CD I Made

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Note: I'll be removing the links below in a couple of days, for "moral" reasons revolving around musicians' rights and all that other copyright stuff. Like as if removing them now will help at all, but I guess I have to do something.

Sorry I neglected to mention this when originally I posted it, I was a little out of it.

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It was about a week ago. The one before that was in December. I named myself Corstar The Compiler for these music compiling times. I guess it's my mixed-tape alter ego.

When you click on a song below, your default music player should open it and then the artist's name will be displayed for you.

My tastes are all over the place, but if my computer could manage the software, I could rearrange and then blend these songs seamlessly, maybe. It would be fun trying.

About six of the artists are Canadian, two of the songs are by Saul Williams (not Canadian), and "why'd ya do it" is painfully profane, whiskey-soaked, smoked dry, and as swaggering as Elizabeth Taylor in Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf, for anyone who may care.

the beat goes on - Saul Williams

devil's eyes - Buck 65

galang - M.I.A.

golden boys -Reese

la la la - Saul Williams

dry the rain - Beta Band

why'd ya do it - Marianne Faithfull

turn on your receiver Nazareth

no heaven - DJ Champion

love is the drug - Roxy Music

riffs and variations on a single note for jelly roll... - Sufjan Stevens

i'm deranged - David Bowie

melody day - Caribou

voodoo - Godsmack

feast here tonight - Foggy Hogtown Boys

evil - Howlin' Wolf

the greatest - Cat Power

chicago - Sufjan Stevens

vultan's theme (attack of the hawk men) - Queen

future love paradise - Seal

que pasa contigo (latin simone) - Ibrahim Ferraro & Gorillaz

carratero - Ibrahim Ferraro


p.s. give "future love paradise" a chance - it's time to bring it back.

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I Was Reviewed by Ask And Ye Shall Receive

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Holy sheee-it, I submitted my blog for a review I got a rare and coveted "I Fucking Love You" award!!

As a pleasant bonus, my reviewer gave big-ups to blogs from Toronto, Canada in general.

And to make things ever more overwhelming, I got quoted (in a good way) over at Ryan Lawson's blog. Then to top that all off with a big creamy dollop of "Good morning, sunshine" I find out Ryan is Scottish. And has strong arms. Help.

I'll try not to gloat.

About my review: I received the review and award from Bitter Mistress, that elegant taskmaster, that be-fishnetted femme fatale at Ask And Ye Shall Receive. Well, to be honest, I got two of the awards from Her…but I don't wanna ring my own bell too long about that...I am actually still shaking my head in awe and disbelief at the huge ego inflation I'm experiencing. The Mistress never gives two of these awards, and will rarely give even the usual one.

I've been in Halifax for a week, and while there I played more than six hundred rounds of battle in Soul Calibre, the Playstation fighting game. I kicked almost everyone's asses to the floor with my 4'8" fifteen-year-old fighter, Talim. But there was a British dominatrix fighter named Ivy who keeps popping into my mind today, back home in T.O., as I ponder my boon of self-actualization.

At the risk of sounding sappy, I respect the writing at AAYSR, and the notched riding crop by which they measure quality, and feel I've benefited a great deal by simply reading their work. This review I've gotten is really just such a wholehearted acknowledgement of something that feels really important to a writer. I don't want to hide my silly pleasure at all this.

Ask And Ye Shall Receive

Yes, I submitted my blog to Ask And Ye Shall Receive, that labour of love where righteous reviewers rate blogs under microscopic scrutiny - a fair, but no-nonsense, and stinging bottom-line. I've been avidly reading the posts and comments there since I discovered it about a month ago. Lurking. Spewing with mirth at some of the most colorful spittings of the scorned I've ever come across. To wit:

Let me give you a little tip: when I'm reading a blog that has multiple colors of text, I get completely distracted and have to start over. And frankly, no author is so fucking fascinating that I'd read a post 15 times, even if it was how you fucked 15 guys in 2 hours while snorting coke off your mother's ass before you picked up your daughter from preschool. It just pisses me off and makes me want to stab you in the fucking eye.
-Bitter Mistress

Yes, the blogosphere can be a beautiful thing.

I have gleaned lots of good advice on blog writing, just by reading what everyone has to say about it and by the way they express themselves over there. Despite my gleaning, I thought I might get two stars. I was even prepared for the "Meh" rating, or the somehow more biting poser rating:




Positive feedback from Bitter Mistress about my writing is kinda like getting a big slab of white-icing-with-orange-m&m's cake (real cake - the birthday kind) when you had your mouth open for the cod liver oil. Or a slow, feathery tickle when you were bent over for the paddle.

I know I'm in a huge learning curve.

People, y'all don't know how scary it can be submitting to these guys. Here's a hint - and beware ye who seeketh to ask for what thou wanteth to receiveth – the address to Ask And Ye Shall Receive is:

iwillfuckingtearyouapart.blogspot.com.

Did you get that? Not for the faint of heart.

But from what I have read there, the turning you out is worth the claw marks. You will learn.

You can read the review by Bitter Mistress here.

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