Archive for July, 2009

Crotches can only take us so far

Posted on July 31st, 2009 Be the first to comment

Just like a divorce, it’s not over until the final piece of paper is signed and delivered. Today, that’s what they did at City Hall.

With that, the Toronto garbage is strike is now officially over.

Naturally, some found it hard to let go:

flying US colours ... I'd say that was suspicious

This gentleman assured me most seriously that mere moments earlier, there had been a large crowd on this very spot supporting this early-morning protest. I must say, that’s exactly what’s needed these days; a sense of humour. Good guy.

But despite the comedic relief provided by these folks, it was a pretty tense day at City Hall. Everyone stood up to talk, two guys left in a huff, someone else threw crayons and teased the two kids leaving. Bad scene. How did my girl hold up in the vote? Naturally, she cast the wise choice.

And today, for the first time in forty days, birds are being flipped from truck windows again:

i'd be bitter too

So, that’s it for another five years, or whenever this agreement expires.

Are you bored to tears with this strike already? Me too. Let’s get back to summer!

like europe, only not

Just like being at the beach, huh? A sophisticated beach! That had been paved over. With no water. And big buildings. Also traffic and the occasional deciduous tree. Surf’s up!


Woaw! The zipper for the giant pants of the bank behind it. In fact, the entire financial district is filled with giant testes. (In the “they’ve got some balls!” sense. Not in the complimentary sense.)

Okay, enough of that for one day. Crotches can only take us so far and besides, we don’t want to get sunburned on the first real day of sunshine.

Speaking of getting burned, a story emerged a couple of days ago that the website of Toronto Hydro, my electricity provider, was hacked. Hydro claims that all that was stolen were the personal contact info and last bill amounts of some of their customers. We were advised that we may be receiving a letter if our personal information was accessed.

Since that moment, I’ve been walking around like a kid on December 22nd. I crossed my fingers each day as I opened my mailbox only to find that, no, I would not be the lucky recipient of the Toronto Hydro letter. Not that day :(

But guess what … today I got one! :D

it's not the colour i wanted, but i still love it!

Isn’t that exciting?They say it’s just a precautionary letter, but I know it’s meant just for me.

Now some twitchy teenager with a brick in his underwear knows where I live and how much juice my lair requires. Kid, if you’re reading this, you’re welcome to the info. In fact, feel free to apply some credit to my account next time you’re in there.

Interestingly, in the letter dated July 23rd, Hydro says that they don’t how the hacker(s) got a hold of the information. Meaning that they didn’t know they’d been hacked. So how did they know the information had been accessed?

I know, I don’t seem terribly concerned, but I’ve had fraud at least once on every card I’ve ever owned. And I would love to see someone try to take out a mortgage on my credit. Haha!

Ahh. That’s the best way to start a weekend; with a laugh.

Filed under: B Sides, Pictures

INVESTMENT TIP: Toronto parking lots — BUY BUY BUY!

Posted on July 30th, 2009 8 Comments

Do you remember yesterday with those street-borne communiqués around the city?

Mama meme-a!

This time we have a website and a comfortable patch of grass. I would applaud this effort, I really would. But I actually started to read the web page:

“We want to re-examine public space and to create work which explores our relationship with the space we inhabit. We wish to de-center and disrupt the accepted n…”




*wipe drool*

I don’t know what that site meant but I’ve reprimanded my netbook for showing it to me. I’m sorely tempted to put my programming skills to use in creating a tedious content filter of some sort. When it would detect a web page that fell below the customizable tedium level, the browser would warn you with a gentle weeping sound lest you waste a moment of your valuable life. Also, a shudder if your hardware is equipped for it.

Meh. I’d rather be outside anyway. It’s hard to be bored, especially with Caribana just around the corner. And the rampant crime that goes with it:

Why bother with a dollar sign? It's already an outrageous number!

That’ll go up to twenty bucks on the weekend. Bumbaclot!

Lamport Stadium is where the Caribana judging takes place, and if memory serves, they have about one-hundred million-billion floats and get-ups to evaluate. It’s a lot, whatever the precise number is.

When it comes to parade costumes, people go certifiably insane. They seal themselves up in darkened workshops for months on end, devoid of any human contact. There, they toil away, metamorphosing wire, fabric, and sequins into wings, antennae, and gaudy headdresses.

Finally, after many months and a third refinancing of the house, they emerge.

As a beautiful, gargantuan butterfly!

gimpy leg or awkward erection?

I’m sure it’s much more impressive than it looks. From what I remember of past parades, the costumes are enormous. That thing he’s pulling out of the truck is probably meant to be worn on the eyebrow. The rest of the costume usually arrives by helicopter.

I suppose I can understand why they’d want these creations protected behind fences this weekend, but I’m not sure if they’re legally allowed to call it Caribana unless everyone, including spectators, are jumping around. Seems like a fence would dampen that enthusiasm.

When I walked along Lakeshore Boulevard (the parade route) today, it felt a bit like I was in a penitentiary exercise yard. With the natural barrier of Lake Ontario on one side, and the gun-turret-like projections of the Direct Energy Centre on the other, winin’ and/or grinin’ just seems out of place.

Guess we’ll just have to see.

Filed under: B Sides, Pictures

I am still not a crook. More of a banker, really.

Posted on July 29th, 2009 6 Comments

After five weeks off the job and finally managing to walk away with the bank, you’d think the unions would be eager to get back to work, wouldn’t you? I would too. But we’d both be wrong. Now they’re fussing over how they should return to work.

Have you ever done that thing where you rub the palm of your hand into your forehead in an agitated, twisting motion? Yeah.

Do you wanna know what I think happened? I think that City Hall saw Caribana looming and figured it couldn’t afford to lose it. Perhaps because of money. Perhaps reputation. Perhaps both. The negotiators blinked and, as a result, Miller has offered our collective anuses up for all sorts of wanton abuse. I can’t believe I used to call him General.

Oh well, at least it’ll be settled soon and we can all get back to doing whatever it is we do. Which is actually pretty much the same thing we’ve been doing all this time. How exciting.

Sarcasm, you say? Moi?! The impropriety!

Just hit the streets if you require evidence of various, excitingly subversive a-goings-ons:

JaMaCo Unite!

Now who feels like an impudent little monkey?

Unfortunately, these people are so underground, I have no idea who they are or what this is all about. It’s clear they’re fucking with the post office, I  just can’t fathom why. Until they make themselves known, I guess we’ll just have to call them the Jacket Mailers Collective, or JaMaCo for short.

I know, right? That would make a good song. JaMaCo, down in Key Largo, blah blah blah blah, on the go, etc. Already half written! Unfortunately, JaMaCo is going to need a kick-ass stage show because someone already beat them to the headlines:

talkin' to the wrong guy, pal, a domain whose brilliance is bested only by

The nifty people behind this campaign are targeting one Janet Nixon, wife of Gordon Nixon, president and CEO of the Royal Bank of Canada. RBC is one of the few remaining bank conglomerates in Canada and I believe Gordon can have people legally “disappeared”. He’s that powerful. The bank invested in a, let’s say, controversial project called the tar sands. It’s a messy way to get oil out of tar-covered sand patches.

The group has been trying to stop the project’s source of funding, which is RBC, but Gordon doesn’t much care for their company. What to do?

Of course; talk to the guy’s wife!

The website features a fireside chat addressing, in a casual and friendly manner, Mrs. Nixon, asking for her assistance in helping her husband see some reason. “Thank you, Janet. Thank you very much.”

So nice.

In keeping with the sentiment, I’m so glad you could join me and share a moment of your time. That’s right, I’m pointing directly at you. Thank you.

Now, unfortunately, I have other duties to attend to, so I’ll have to bid you adieu. I’m sure you understand that I would never eschew you for something if it wasn’t critically important.

speaking of tar sands :D

Filed under: Pictures, Why I'm Right