Keep Calm and Recite the Lords of Hockey Prayer

Keep calm and Canuck on

Keep calm and Canuck on

I was walking down the street, minding my own business (for once) when, right at the corner of Richards and Hastings, I saw this. I had to have it. And since I don’t have a camera capable of photographing it well enough to capture all the text, I ripped it off the hydro pole on which it had been pasted, and took it with me to type it all out. So here it all is, laboriously typed out by hand, so I hope you appreciate it.

Thus saith Michael the Captain of the Lords Host,

The year I was born, they joined the Big League, and waited patiently for Me,

They didn’t play for last, no more two line pass, bring on the Holy Spirit Gas

To bring it into submission, you must surrender to a God, and agree on the vision

Good Grief, I love My Beloved Leafs, but Vancouver I desire to give the cup to thee

REVELATION 19 THROUGHT 22; EZEKIEL 9: DANIEL 12

I am Stanley’s Lord, drink from My cup, after the parade we will sit and sup

I AM the Man clothed in linen, with Trevor Linden, saying the Devils ain’t winning

Game 7, a loud trumpet sound, a musical ride gathered around

Oh Canada, don’t you see, New Jerusalem a virgin bride dressed for Me

Hebrews 13: Thessalonians 4:16-17

Skates of Fire, Stars on Ice, entertaining angels is it not nice

In 89, Al MacInnes stood on the line, Patrick Roy ducted every time

Lanny McDonald, I Am the Golden Arch, I began My shout on the 19th of March

Don Cherry, I Am the vine, you Me and Ron the Devils will whine

Matthew 24L Mathew 18:19, Daniel 12:1-4

Davey Crocket and the Richard Rocket, I have a cup, in My pocket,

Bobby Orr he shoots he scores, I AM Michael, I hold the oars

I row row row the boat, I Bless the Humble, and oppose the goat

If you want this gift from Me, get on your knes in My Name Jesus say please

Mark 13; Matthew 24; Luke 21

Uncle Steve and Wayne the future I see, Luongo, will stand on his head for Me

Hey twins call Sundin up, and tell him to come, and sip from My cup

Surroundd by the cops, the crowd weeps, and the tears will drop

The crowd will roar, the Master is home, as Roger packs the Thunder Dome

Revelation 14; 1st Thessalonians 4:16-17; Daniel 12:1-4

Scotties tissues, a tournament of hearst, as I tear her walls all apart

To her shall the Archangel sing, about a Seven Carrot, Diamond Ring

Hey B.C I aAm the Lion, I am Orion, and you are standing on Mount Zion

Before Christ, this is the blan, I long to give you the cup from My hand

Revelation CH 6 through CH 13 understand the silence Aug 26, 2011

The Pacific Rim, the Ring of Fire, all prepared for cowards and liars

A three game sweep, a three game come back, Michael and His Angels lead the attack

The Devil and his angels, all cast down, 7 trumpets and they will gather around

Gates and the Pope I will capture, the rest marked, and headed for disaster

Isaiah 11

Born to be My Baby, she gives love a bad name, The New Jersey Devils concede the game

Little Girl Airheart, I tore her world apart, IAM destined to win right from the start

Across the oceans her claim to fame, she is taking, My New Name in vain

In your hands, I command you to lift her up, Zion’s Daughter must raise My pup

Love OrionMichael Prince “MY NEW NAME” Rev 19:11-16; Rev CH 2 and 3

Email Michael_Prince777 AT yahoo.ca with questions and comments


Memo of the Day: Toilet Wars

Or should that be “Loo Wars?” I dunno, “Loo Wars” kinda sounds like a 1920′s bisexual movie star, probably one that took the virginity of both Ginger Rogers and David Bowie later in life. In fact, “Loo Wars” sounds rather awesome, now that I think of it. I should pitch a biography of this fabulous, imaginary person. BRB, writing proposal…

Okay, back. Where was I? Oh yes, posting about toilets once again. I KNOW I’m supposed to call them “Washrooms” like the way the news refers to “Afghanistan” when what they mean is Tarok Kolache. But they’re toilets, specifically the things you sit on. And here are two memos from Ye Olde Englande where, it seems, standards (and colons) have relaxed considerably in recent times.

Why is it always the men’s room? Except at Metrotown (whereof we will not speak…)?

The first, from the Grauniad, venerated temple of lefty journalism:

Subject: Gentlemen of the Guardian and Observer, we must buck up!

A plea on behalf of the cleaners and your fellow staff…
In the event that you are, ahem, inconvenienced when visiting the toilets, please use the brush handily situated at the side of the toilet to clean the bowl after yourself, rather than leaving the bowl – and in one case on the second floor toilets – the seat covered with evidence of your visit for the next occupant of the stall to behold.
Surely no one would leave a toilet in that state at home, would they?
And a happy new year to all.

And the second, from Endemol, whose website is a masterwork of corporate gobbledygook (building franchises and extending them into new consumer experiences etc) but whose memo is admirably direct, vivid, amusing, and (doubtless) effective:

"You fucking animals" is the new "You dirty rats"

A toilet memo for the ages: "You fucking animals" is the new "You dirty rats"

via Popbitch, the rest of whose stories today involve absolutely nobody of whom I have ever heard except Adam Ant. If you want to feel like you’re far away from anywhere a language you speak is spoken, read British sports, celebrity, and music journalism. Impenetrable, I’m telling you; some day I’ll do a rant just on British sports writing, but that rant is not today. My doctor says only one rant per day until the 28th, then it’s back to free-flowing bile 24/7 as usual.

A New Year’s Prayer from Jeff Buckley

This was Jack Kerouac, every single day

This was Jack Kerouac, every single day

The more I see/hear/read of this guy, the better I like him. Yes, some true abominations have been done in his name (including the entire genre of hipster music; you know what I’m talking about: I’m talking about the soundtrack of Juno, that’s what I’m talking about) but as with Hunter S. Thompson and William Falkner, the original emanates such pure, numinous quality that it nearly absolves the wannabes from their failure, because everybody can understand wanting a piece of that, however second-hand and degraded.

via CelluloidBlonde

 

Shebeen Club tonight at Rogue

Shebeen Club S

Shebeen Club S is for Scribes!

Just a reminder that tonight’s Shebeen Club meeting, Going Pro with Sylvia Taylor, is at Rogue Kitchen and Wetbar, in Waterfront Station skytrain/seabus station. They’ve developed a terrific seasonal menu for us, too, and of course they offer all the fabulous microbrews of their partner in crime, Steamworks Brew Pub. We have lots of space in our private room, so you can just show up and join us at 7pm tonight: $25 at the door.

Choice of Entrées:

1. Coconut Poached Chicken Salad

snap peas, red & yellow peppers, mixed greens,

thin asian noodles, sesame soy dressing

2. Mediterranean Penne

kalamata olives, basil, tomatoes, artichokes,

yellow peppers, goat cheese

3. The 9.2 oz Rogue Burger

home ground sirloin burger cooked to 160

degrees farenheit, sesame brioche bun, bacon,

cheddar, lettuce, tomato, pickle, sweet relish,

mayo, hand-cut kennebec fries

4. Fresh Halibut Tacos

seared cajun-spices halibut, avocado cream,

mango salsa, fennel coleslaw, white flour tortilla

what did you do today, raincoaster?

i hate facebook

What did I do today? You mean besides become enraged by Facebook? I spent the better part of an hour first trying to get it to accept an ad without churning, churning, churning, churning, finally had the brilliant idea to disable Adblocker, which was successful at getting it to finish churning, whereupon I moved on to the second step where I put in all the details about who I wanted the ad to be shown to (don’t worry, it wasn’t you; you’re smart enough to use Adblocker, like me, right?) and how much I wanted to pay and goddamn if it didn’t really, REALLY want me to pay in British Pounds and use Dawson, Yukon time.

I think Facebook must be secretly controlled by Richard Branson from an underground lair he has in Dawson, Yukon.

So! So I get through that part, I get through even the pricing part. There’s a part where you can set limits on how much you want to spend in a given day, and a place where you can say how many days you want the ad to run. Now, I figure you multiply the how much by the number and you get the total maximum cost for the campaign, right? Oh no, how could that be right? We’re talking about Facebook!

So you can pay via Visa, Mastercard, or Paypal. Yay, I have Paypal. So I click Pay By Paypal.

And it asks me for a credit card.Going round and round and round and round: the Facebook customer service experience

Sure, you can pay by Paypal. But not if you have to. It’s rather like the retail banking system, where anybody can get a loan as long as they can prove they don’t need it. What’s particularly annoying is, thanks to a couple of good months I actually have enough in my Paypal to pay for the whole campaign, even if it cost the maximum every damn day. I could pay for it right now, and they could just refund me the money it didn’t end up costing me. But will they? Nooooooo…

Anyway, Facebook sucks, which I’m sure is not news to you savvy readers.

What else did I do today? I’ve been astonishingly productive, and it’s obviously not ME, but some alchemical magic reaction between the Diet Coke and pasta salad left over from my birthday party along with the Evening Primrose that I’ve been trying to remember to take.

I did this:

Posted:

I also listed Blogging for Writers online workshop on (yes) the dreaded Facebook, so if you know any English-language based people who are interested in learning how to blog and use social media while improving their writing skills, pass the link along to them.

Made some aesthetic decisions about my new site at Making My Life which is a network of various social media platforms including audio, video, and blogging. I’ll be moving raincoastermedia over there and focusing more on my social media teaching and less on all the hyperlocal blogging that I’ve been doing such a bad job of.

Had to put out several fires, only one of which was mine. If anyone finds their life boring and staid, I have quite a collection of second and third-hand social media drama that you can take off my hands for free any time. Also, apparently an email went out saying my course on Social Media for Nonprofits was going to be fantastic (great, so far so terrific!) but alas, it also went on to say that there were several free places available. Guess what? Nobody wants to pay. The free spaces in my courses aren’t supposed to be for agencies on the Downtown Eastside, they’re for clients of the agencies: you know, poor people. I think I negotiated a compromise everybody can live with, but god help me, I didn’t get into this to give stuff away to the middle class. Also, BOB is charging me full price for the room anyway, so one free seat just evaporated so we can give the money to Shirley. All of which prompted the post outlining the social media scholarship policy. There, it’s in black and white!

Posted everything relevant from raincoaster media to the SMCYVR Facebook page and to the raincoaster media page itself. Sigh. At least THAT worked okay.

Deleted all the outdated emails from the Shebeen Club mailing list. Attempted to buy a Facebook ad for the Shebeen Club meeting but, crunching, crunching, crunching…gave up.

Promised this woman who messaged me on FB (it’s FB day, I swear; the CanadianPolice on Twitter just pinged me to complain how crazy things are lately, so it’s not just me or Vancouver, it’s everywhere) I’d read her MJ post (she was polite YAY and said she’d read mine, so reading hers was the least I could do, and she’s right about that) but OMG it’s a big one and I’m not sure I’ll get it all done today.

Bitched on Facebook about not being able to buy an ad on Facebook and promptly got two emails offering help. Problem appears to be solved, but I’m too sleepy to finish the job tonight and besides, the bank’s not open yet, it’s not even 7am.

Oh yes, sent three pitch letters to editors today. Sure, it’s spec work and probably free, but it’s ink and paper AND it’s tremendous profile-building. It’s nice to be able to put “President of SMCYVR” on an email. Which reminds me to put it in my signature too.

Tuned up the professional profile on raincoastermedia: what do you think?

What did I not get done? A podcast. Sometime between now and 7pm I’ve got to record and upload a podcast. It was an assignment I gave everyone last week in the Blogging for Writers online course, and the least I can do is try it myself! Wish me luck!

Will in all likelihood go for a walk/jog now, provided I can find my Zune, which is the only portable timekeeping device I have that still has a working battery.

Then: I will have a Martini and collapse. Yes, gin is not in the diet. But it’s very good for collapsing with. With which to collapse. Whatever.

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