Quiz: Which Celebrity Drunk Are You?

Well, I don’t know which you are, but I’m apparently a closeted lesbian cutter:


Find out what drunk celebrity you are at LiquidGeneration!

Is very weird and possibly even incorrect, as all my friends tell me that when I get drunk I actually get friendlier. The one time someone slipped me Roofies I went up and down the halls of my apartment building, knocking on doors and introducing myself with “it’s high time we said hi!” God, it was hilarious. Or so they tell me.

Be a Movie Producer!

or look just like one…

Oh god, not ANOTHER one!

Oh god, not ANOTHER one!

No, it’s true: this is a plan to enable you to put “movie producer” on your business card, which will come in handy on a Friday at the clubs, if no-where else. Actually, it will count for something with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, who will allow any actual credited producer to purchase a ticket to the Academy Awards, better known as the Oscars.

Come to think of it, I’ve got a friend who’s always wanted to go. Hmmmm…

Allow me to introduce With Glowing Hearts, the motion picture:

So far, so awww, right? Yes, it’s an inspirational documentary, perhaps the least likely to be commercially successful genre of film in filmdom. How can you become a producer of this acclaimed-but-so-far-unreleased soon-to-be-classic? Easy; everybody knows there’s one way to become a producer.

You come up with the money.

In this case, you can come up with amounts as small as a Toonie:

Making a film costs money, and although we’ve done a great job at keeping our costs down there are certain expenses which are unavoidable. That’s why from now, until the middle of August, we’re running our Toonie and Tweet Torch Relay to help get us to the finish line and to get your name in the credits.  Starting with a minimum contribution of $2, “producers” can have their name published in a word cloud that will appear in the film’s credit roll and on this site. Increasing your contribution will increase the size of your name in the cloud.

All money collected will go directly towards costs related to finishing and distributing the film like insurance, music rights, and salaries for the great people who have been working on the film with us.  Just click on the Chip-In widget to the right and follow the instructions to use either your PayPal account or credit card, note that transactions are conducted in US dollars but will be converted to your local currency on your bill.  The name that is associated with your PayPal account is the same that will be used for the credits, if you would like a different name to appear in the credits please indicate that under “special instructions for vendor” on the “Review your payment” page.

Sure, it says mid-August, but if you ask nicely you’ll probably find there’s always room for more money (though perhaps it will need more zeros after the 2). Go on, haven’t you always wanted to be a Hollywood big shot? I hear Clooney is breaking up with his latest bimbette, so if you’re a brunette and you can get him good and drunk at the Vanity Fair afterparty, you’ve probably got a shot.

Crazy Little Thing Called Rehab

We’ve been on an Amy Winehouse kick lately (and yes, are consequently in desperate need of a de-lousing, even though only one apartment in my building is reported to have insect-y kind of vermin), so here’s a wicked-good mashup: Crazy Little Thing Called Love and Rehab. It’s bad when looking at pictures of a healthy woman makes people think of death, but I defy you to watch this and not think about what she looks like now. The saline implants are probably the healthiest part of her; anyone else wondering if she went off to her Caribbean retreat specifically so she could get healthy enough a doctor would operate on her? Going through rehab to get a pair of new tits: yes, welcome to the 21st Century. Here’s your six-inch miniskirt, here’s your coke, here’s your fake tan, and here are your tattoos. You now look like a homeless hooker from 1968; in fact, if you’re anything like Amy here, you probably look like the same age, too.

The Money Shot

It's not the size, it's how you use it

It's not the size, it's how you use it

From the Guardian:

Greenland: A ship melts an iceberg by spraying it with seawater near the Stena Forth oil drilling ship

Don’t worry, it happens to everyone.

Operation Global Media Domination: Soundtrack for Losers

Amy Winehouse expresses herself

that door had to be carted away and burnt later, for public safety reasons

Remember that old-timey singer Amy Winehouse, back when she was still alive?

Studio performance of Love is a Losing Game by Amy Winehouse

For you I was a flame
Love is a losing game
Five story fire as you came
Love is a losing game

While I wish I’d never played
Oh what a mess we made
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game

Played out by the band
Love is a losing hand
More than I could stand
Love is a losing hand

Self professed… profound
Till the chips were down
…know you’re a gambling man
Love is a losing hand

Though I’d bet on blind
Love is a faith resign
Memories mar my mind
Love is a faith resign

Over futile odds
And laughed at by the gods
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game

You know what else is a losing game? Trying to clean up the code in a popular page you copied bodily from Facebook because you are dutiful and political and committed to freedom of speech and think the world NEEDS an archive of the now-deleted Everybody Draw Mohammad Day page, and furthermore, you are doing it on a beautiful Friday Saturday (I have lost track of time GOD HAVE I BEEN HERE THAT LONG???) night while reading the posts and tweets of all my friends who are a block or two away, having a great time NOT editing Facebook code. And further to furthermore, not doing the workout I was supposed to get done four hours ago either, because I am here, madly editing this stupid, extraneous-div-filled code to appease the Google Gods, who have thrown this blog into the Ninth Circle of Google Hell since the start of May. I even pulled my best string, who yanked Matt Cutt‘s personal chain and got nothing better than When I search for ‘raincoaster’ that blog is the first hit, which proves it’s being indexed properly which is bullshit.

Don’t believe me? Here is my stats graph:

I die! I DIE!!!

Is it any wonder I'm so fucking CRANKY?????

Now, having gone through ismyblogworking.com and Quantcast and the W3 Validator, Feed ValidatorGoogle Webmaster Tools and (the much more decipherable) Yahoo Site Explorer, I have found my blog is riddled with a metric snotload of code errors and, since I, myself, don’t write in code unless someone is holding a gun to my head AND there are sharks with frikkin laser beams on their heads circling my desk, I didn’t put there. Right?

Anyhoodle, it appeared to even my inexperienced eye that code that looked like div /div div /div /form div div div div /h5 and so on was somewhat problematic, and so I sat down to eliminate said code, line by painful line. For two point seven five hours I sifted code, exercising my Delete button and my Backspace ruthlessly (have you seen Ruth lately, by the way? I’ve been Ruthless for months now) and when I looked at the sidebar I saw that I had successfully cleansed less than one-tenth of the code.

At that point I ruthlessly (seriously, where IS that bitch?) exercised the Move To Trash key, and I hope Lindsay Lohan is happy with the present I sent her.

Now I’m off to sacrifice a unicorn to the Google Gods.

Om nom nom nom, baby!

Who knew Lady Gaga = Voldemort?

Wish me luck. On the plus side, I think this may be a good omen:

Quiz: what kind of scientist would you be?

I’m pretty sure I’ve done one of these before, but that was from a different company; why would I be the same kind of scientist?


Mad Scientist

Though your chief goals are the somewhat contradictory aims to rule, and then destroy, the planet Earth, you have a strong grasp of the scientific principles of blowing up things (Explodology). Good luck and please have mercy.

Take the quiz on BuzzFeed.com


Well, this seems pretty dead-on.

The Most Canadian Story Ever Told

Bear none.

I mean Bar None, which is a nice bar in Yaletown and surprisingly unsnooty, although that’s probably just because it’s too dark to see if they should snub you and also because I know the right people. But the bar is not what I mean, unless you’re speaking with a broad Eastern accent, in which case yes, it is.

I mean this:

by Wayne Barnes, Tofino Photography for the Raincoast Education Society

I don't remember reading this part in the Cthulhu Mythos

That is a BC Black Bear totally pwning a servant of Great Cthulhu. These bears are normally peaceful creatures, doglike, even timid:

They enjoy nothing better than playing on the trampoline, relaxing in a hammock, or enjoying a pic-a-nik basket with pals.

bear fall down go boom

The workers couldn't wait for their turn at the Bouncy Castle!

but when they are protecting their territory, hunting for food, or taking care of those they consider family, they can be ruthless. The so-called Red Devil Squid in the top picture must surely have gotten too close to one of the cubs, or possibly attempted to make off with the bear’s particular crop of salmon.

Now, from deepest, darkest Christina Lake, British Columbia comes word of a new kind of bear.

Not that kind.

This kind.

Damn straight they do, especially when the people steal their stash

They'll pry the machete from my cold dead paws

It seems a local farmer had developed a close relationship with some 13 neighborhood black bears, to the extent of feeding them, handling them, taming them, and really, everything that can still be mentioned on the evening news short of folding, spindling, and mutilating them. The bears, in turn, acted as guardians for the farm, which was a farm which required guardianship, what with it growing 2300 plants of the finest BC Bud, a crop worth enough loonies and toonies to keep the bears in dog food and the farmer in Gucci for many a year.

Amusingly, unless I’m misremembering the name, this farmer would be the selfsame Justin who used to be the assistant manager at one of the billions of Starbucks at which I worked; in this case, the one at Main and 14th. I heard him on the phone once in the back room, saying to person or persons (or ursines) unknown, “No, it’s perfect. Jimmy’s father is overseas for a few years and has to rent out his land. It’s surrounded on four sides by corn farms, and corn is, like, TALL. The neighbors aren’t nosy at all, and the only access is a private dirt road. It’s PERFECT, I’m TELLING YOU!” and then he looked at me funny, as if I was eavesdropping or something, and said, “I’ll call you back.” He quit shortly after that…to become a farmer.

He was a very, very smart boy.

Anyway, not only did this farm eventually get busted, guard bears or no guard bears (they were probably on a pizza and dorito run, if I know stoners) but while the arresting officers were figuring out what to do with the semi-tame bears, BC bear fanciers (more than you’d think, unless you’d been to the Pumpjack on a Friday night) got themselves together to petition for the freedom of the bears, who face the death penalty for … being bears that eat whatever’s put in front of them.

Pot Bear is a new subspecies

Doesn't he look terrified?

They don’t appear to constitute a terrible threat to the public safety, what with chasing thrown sticks and all:

“They were tame, they just sat around watching. At one point one of the bears climbed onto the hood of a police car, sat there for a bit and then jumped off,” said Royal Canadian Mounted Police sergeant Fred Mansveld.

That said, you apparently don’t come between a bear and his favorite crop.

The strange tale of some B.C. black bears that were caught guarding a marijuana grow-op has gotten stranger, after someone stole the confiscated pot from the RCMP and tried to protect it with a stash of stolen dynamite…

On Thursday, RCMP obtained a search warrant for a nearby property in Greenwood, where they found a stash of about 10 kilograms of marijuana stolen from the lockup, including a small amount from the Christina Lake bust.

The officers also found a grenade, a loaded 12-gauge shotgun, and two loaded rifles.

Of even greater concern to police was the stash of about 19 sticks of dynamite they found rigged with homemade fuses, according to Cpl. Dan Moskaluk.

Well, that IS a matter of great concern. Everybody knows bears are slackers when it comes to safely handling explosives.

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