Category Archives: Canada

The T Factor: Japan Edition (plus Welcome to the Blogroll: Japanprobe)

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From James' Japanprobe site, which is a cabinet of curiosities not to be missed by those who encounter the Japanese on a daily basis, and which I shall blogroll immediately.

In any case, it appears that what Americans are to Canadian tourist sites, so Koreans are to the Japanese. Bringing your own food to restaurants does indeed beat out the Yanks's hearty bellows of, "Y'all got chicken-frah'd stay-uk?" in the tackiness stakes. Read on for more tales of unspeakable gaucheness.

go to red alert!

Vulgarity: the one true international language.

Behold, the island of Tsushima: a small Japanese island near Korea. Ten years ago only a few hundred Korean tourists visited the island each year. For some reason that number has increased to 40,000 Korean tourists each year! Let’s focus on the rude ones!

The Irish Heather’s painting and its story

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Update: raincoaster has discovered that the following is an Urban Legend. See the comments section for an update from Sean Heather, and stand by for a new post with the true story. Live and learn; thus are myths born. 

Wednesday, October 02, 2002Irish Heather Painting

I know a little bit about Sean Heather.

And I know a little bit about Fireman.

And I say it was 50/50. But what do I know?

There's a big painting hanging on the wall of the Irish Heather, a big whopper of a canvas with a lively depiction of the staff, the owners and a great many of the regulars, all much bigger and grinnier than in the life, but then that is how Fireman paints them.

Now, guess what Fireman does for a dayjob. Right the first time! But when he is not climbing ladders to rescue kitties or hauling hose to quench flames he is a painter and caricaturiste extraordinaire, vraiment, and in the true artistic tradition he has been known to be just a bit…sensitive…sometimes. Not that that is bad, but I think we can all give thanks that he does not apply the same exquisite sense of discretion and inspiration to, say, answering a fire alarm as he does to, say, painting the staff, owners and regulars of a pub.

Now they say he did two of them, the big paintings. And they hung one up in the front of the bar, right where everyone could see it and say, gee your chin isn't nearly that pointy or other silky phrases, depending on if they knew she was married. What they did with the other does not matter, which is good, as I do not know.

But they did not pay very promptly, or not very well, or somehow not to the liking of the Fireman, he of the artistic temperament. Oh, can't you just see this coming?

One evening the place was in full swing. The walls can throb, it gets that busy, and it was, it was that busy, that night. And Fireman walks in. Without a word to anybody he walks over to the built-in seating along the wall, hops up on it (being not only artistic but also, apparently, flexible too) stares eye to eye with the image of Sean Heather in his very own painting. Then, keeping the stare going he takes a knife out of his pocket and slowly cuts the face out. He puts the knife back in his pocket. He puts the face in his pocket. He gets down. He walks out.

I believe the bill was settled shortly after that, and the second painting is the one you see.

overheard on Dunlevy

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This is exactly how you can tell that where I live is nothing like where you live.

As I was walking home from the grocery store the other day, toting my wholesome load of carrots and peppers and low-fat-but-not-quite-skim milk, I passed the lineup for the Bread Jardin, so-called because "Bread Garden" is a well-known string of yuppie fast food cafes around town and they can't use the same name because God forbid and so do the lawyers. The Bread Jardin, however is what the Franciscan Sisters of Atonement call their breadline, which is actually a sandwich line, and good for them, as man cannot live on bread alone but requires turkey with mayo or at least some spam with mustard and lettuce one-st in awhile. And it so happened that on this day the Bread Jardin had yet to ouvrir. Alors, there was a lineup du pain. And as I passed said breadline, I overheard the unfortunately crystal-clear words,

Oh you know him! He's always wearing the proctology gloves!

Headline o’ the Day: Bust in Vagina Theft

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From the Ottawa Sun via Fark, bottom story. Um, so to speak.

BUST IN VAGINA THEFT

A 19-year-old man faces a theft charge after a hand-held vagina was stolen from an adult video store in Kingston. Police said the suspect allegedly selected the sex toy, ran from the Bath St. store and was chased by a staffer. Police found the man 10 minutes after the $80 toy was stolen. "We found him around the corner — and he had used it," said Const. Neil Finn. The toy was apparently dumped after being used and was not recovered.

You know, I was gonna make a joke about the Hand-Held Vagina, but I figured they'd never let me back on The Drive again. Probably repossess my Alanis Morrisette albums, too.

Operation Global Media Domination: Life and Times

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TIAThank god for the Internet, I say. Not only does it ensure that we need never go Shatnerless, but it also guarantees that, no matter how pathetic, meaningless and ultimately debased our own situations, we can always rely on a fresh supply of inbreds to whom to condescend. I speak as one who adored working retail for a decade because working with the public gave me so many people to whom to feel superior.

Now, having broken the top 170,000 of 40 million on Technorati, I am practically impossible to talk to, even though I've stayed in my pjs, blowing my nose, blogging, snarfing reheated pizza and reading Fark all damn day; call my agent, baby!

Particularly if you are responsible for the following.

Behold a ten-thousand word Wikipedia entry on the seven forms of jedi lightsaber fighting, the eight OTHER forms of jedi lightsaber fighting, and the horrible realization that the author hasn't exchanged physical affection with anyone other than his cats since The Empire Strikes Back.

Just kidding about that last part.

Die Muppet! Geek Rage

Each Jedi chooses the style of lightsaber combat that best suits him or her. For example, Master Yoda uses the Ataru form to compensate for his lack of reach and height, as well as to take advantage of his nearly limitless amount of Force power; Mace Windu uses Vaapad to tap into his anger and employ it constructively (without giving himself over to the dark side); Count Dooku's practice of the Makashi form fits his intention to frequently engage in lightsaber-to-lightsaber combat as well as his emphasis on class, elegance and precision. The Jedi Exile from Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II was an expert in many of these forms but never relied on just one. In the game, the Masters remark that he masters their forms very quickly, as if he had studied them for years. While not always, Lightsaber styles are generally taught to the students by the Jedi Battlemasters.

And, lest we forget, the Shat has, as always, some words of wisdom for us. (Sorry Metro, it's just a Shatner kinda day, and damn the loading time!) a side note: has The Shat replaced The Giant Squid as the muse of raincoaster? Better than Blair!