Category Archives: Gonzo

The Progress Bar Unicorn Chaser

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Uniformed Letter Carrier with Child in Mailbag
Image by Smithsonian Institution via Flickr

It’s Wednesday. Is it ever Wednesday. It’s that Wednesday, in fact, when you’re invited to a fabulous cocktail and catering showcase in a swanky hotel and you get there and the staff says Sorry, it’s not in this hotel, it’s in that hotel, and you go to that hotel and wander around, peeping in the ballrooms and concluding (on very little evidence, it must be admitted, except the Board of Trade cards left on one of the tables) that it looks like no balls were had that day, not even those of the cute bellboy, because you were running a bit late and besides, still weren’t entirely convinced you was in the right hotel, and when you ask the staff they say you were worried for good reason because the event is not, in fact, in that hotel, but in still a third one if it’s anywhere, and now you’ve got a 15-minute walk ahead of you in your flowered sandals which are very pretty but definitely more akin to a cheese wire between your toes than one is or should ever become used to, and so you go halfway to the third hotel, decide you’re hungry and your feet hurt, and stop for a #14 with beef and a diet coke.

THAT Wednesday.

That Wednesday when your computer scan renders the system so unstable that you conclude that it, itself, is a threat, and you delete it.

That Wednesday when you’re 48 hours behind on something that isn’t even due yet and you’re already two days late with it.

That Wednesday when the office is full of people having meetings at the back and guys doing construction at the front, and, very definitely, the smell of dairy products gone bad ages ago, perhaps when Elvis was last in the building, and now lying, forgotten, in a dark corner where they are becoming progressively more expensive cheese products by the day.

That Wednesday when, if you open the door to get some fresh air, the crackies chat you up.

That Wednesday when you think THIS would be a good post.

That Wednesday when you fantasize about winning the lottery and opening this:

The Progress Bar, loading in progress

The Progress Bar, loading in progress. I'll take the seat closest the whiskey

Ahhhh, that’s more like it. And so, in the name of progress, we present my inaugural link roundup at the ol’ raincoaster blog, a new tradition which is destined to continue at least until Google has seen the error of its ways and reversed The Soundtrack for Losers Situation. Yes, this is what I get paid for, three times a week.

Mean Disney Girls just a bunch of drama queens (raincoaster)
The Beatles, Captured! (Lolebrity)
Rihanna is disoriented, hideous (Ayyyy)
Reznorvision coming soon to your screens? (AgentBedhead)
The Face of Kotex! (BusyBeeBlogger)
Some people will do ANYTHING to impress Sandra Bullock’s castoffs (CeleBitchy)
Spot the cyborgs among us! (CelebrityCosmeticSurgery)
Violent repeat felon seeks custodianship of Lindsay Lohan (CelebDirtyLaundry)
Michael Bolton, it is FAR too late for respect! (CelebritySmack)
Gaga a Go-Go (CityRag)
Naomi Campbell’s feet are HUGE (CojoStyle)
Yes, everyone but me DOES have a book deal (DailyStab)
Macaroni Rascals (DListed)
A foursome isn’t just for golfing and bridge? (EvilBeet)
Sly, stylin’ (GabbyBabble)
Brigitte Nielson is looking younger (GoFugYourself)
Get your Bieber Babies! (HaveUHeard)
Michael Bolton is the Rodney Dangerfield of show pony has-beens (INeedMyFix)
Catching up with Bristol Palin’s favorite show (IBBB)
Oh holy Jeebus, even Hilary Duff has a book deal (JustJared)
This will be some actress’s lowest career point (MovieLine)
Baby Buble (PerezHilton)
B from the block (PinkIsTheNewBlog)
Backney! (PoorBritney)
The Mysteries of Minnelli (PopBytes)
Jon’s got a Ham in his pants (SeriouslyOMG)

And special bonus links:

What we have here is a failure to communicate: Comments vs no comments; the eternal argument

Bukowski: the worst hangover: (warning, this is NSF Peace of Mind)

Harry Potter and the Homework of Vengeance: A GOOD story about spammers

And I’m selling this link service, so if you run a gossip blog, jump on this bandwagon now by leaving me a comment. When I have five subscribing blogs, the price will go up. That’s what you call high-pressure tactics. I read it on JohnChow.com. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with an imaginary bartender.

Brian Atene: Staying Gold

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Brian Atene contemporary

Brian Atene didn't turn out so bad after all

Someday I’ll go through and edit all my old Brian Atene posts (I used to be THE source for Brian Atene information online, having once gotten a shout-out from Atene himself on a video), but that day is not today.

For today, I was awoken at about 6am after falling asleep at 4, and awoken in my least favorite way at that: by someone else’s cat galloping across my face and, specifically, over my eyelid, with its claws out, a fact which anyone nearby can determine by looking at the five long scratch marks on my face right now. They’re extra-super-visible because of the glossy antibiotic cream I’ve spread over them in a layer thick enough to double as an air bag, in case of car crash. And as yesterday I was awoken at 6am by galloping cats as well, after falling asleep again at 4 like any decent, normal, non-cat-owning person, this does not take me to my happy place. It takes me to that place where I can stare at people, listening intently to what they’re saying to me, and actually comprehend not one syllable; nay, not even so much as to be able to identify the language except after careful reverse-thought-engineering.

“Well, it was Doug who was talking to me, and Doug only speaks English, therefore it must have been English!” I think with a great deal of relief once I finally work it out. “Now, I wonder what in hell he was talking about?”

But enough about me (can you ever get enough?). It’s time to talk about Brian Atene, Superman Vodka, Trigger, Google, AOL, and me (again).

Longtime readers of the ol’ raincoaster blog will be familiar with our longtime Ateniac status, dating all the way back since 2006, when the vintage Good Day Mister Kubrick audition tape hit the internet, and hit it hard. I’ve posted his more contemporary videos on this blog and virtually any other blog I could get my hands on even so much as the comments section. So far, so what, right? You either love Atene or you identify with him so strongly you can’t stand the sight of him because all those things about yourself that you’d change if you were a better, stronger, richer, younger person? He is all about those things, three cheers and pass the Nembutal.

And, about once every two years, he signs in to YouTube, finds a camel’s-back-breaking-straw comment and deletes all his videos, leaving me with vast holes in whatever of my blogs I’ve put them into, obviously. BUT I’M SO OVER THAT. Anyway, the one with the shout-out to me is no more, and has not been re-uploaded to the new account.

Cognitive dissociative moment (been having a lot of those recently). Change of subject, slightly.

So I’m looking at the stats for my professional website, raincoaster media, and it appears the blog has suddenly gone from a respectable 100 daily hits to 350, all courtesy of this post on, yes, Brian Atene on the subjects of personal, thespianal, and alcoholic marketing, which outranks every other Brian Atene post on Earth except the one on BoingBoing, even though there are about a dozen Atene posts on THIS blog, as opposed to a simple two on that one. Referrers? I can see three clicks from an AOL search for “Brian Atene” but nothing else. No Google, no Yahoo, nothing else shows up on the referrers. Are people pulling this out of thin air, or is it a hidden link of some sort?Why this post? And why now?

Did he marry a Kardashian today? Get a tv show? Carry a full hot water bottle onto an airplane?

Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

For now, we have this. We have, instead of The Atene Button, Atene Talks Trigger.

Be a Movie Producer!

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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.

The Most Canadian Story Ever Told

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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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ever have that feeling…?

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That feeling like you identify completely with a misunderstood character of widely popular fiction?

existential hulk is existential

existential hulk is existential

Me too.

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