Not complaining for a change...

I bitch a lot on here, cuz it's fun and easy to bitch, so I thought I'd share some things that I've been enjoying lately.

1) Kelly Clarkson! The gal is back and with a song that I wish I had written. 'My Life Would Suck Without You' is super catchy with lines like: 'Being with you is so dysfunctional' and 'I know I've got my issues, but you're pretty messed up too.' Today, I made a burned cd of Kelly's 'hits' to drive to work and listen to. Sadly, you start to realize that all her songs focus on one theme: LOVE! Mostly breaking up. Either way, this one is a hit as it just slid into #1 on the Billboard charts. Check the video here (can't embed, sorry)

#2) My nephew!!! The kid is freaking hilarious. He's almost 2 and by far, the cutest kid around. He's got this new habit of hitting, then I'll say 'ow-ie' and then he'll lean in for a kiss. Lol! Only a toddler could solve all wounds like that. Plus, he has this fisher price car (well actually my baby bro's from many years ago) that he sits in and then you move him about. He'll steer in the direction that you want and honk, if you don't go in that direction. Either way, he's entertaining!

3) Yoga!!! I'm on a serious serious yoga kick lately. Been doing it every day for at least 30 min or more. It keeps me focused, it keeps me happy, and it keeps me toned. The biceps are starting to look a bit better than usual. :)

That's what I've been enjoying this week, what's on your happy list?

The Bigot

Saturday, January 31, 2009

THE BIGOT

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

The plump English man looked at me

And boomed in a smug, superior voice,

“I’m a little bit homophobic,”

As if he were proud of the fact.

I was shocked and angry but attempted to make light

Of his disgusting, appalling bigotry.

Other people heard his putrid words but no one came to my defence

Or even attempted to shoot down his slurs.

There were jeers in his voice,

During the rest of our conversation.

It seemed obvious that he thought I was shit

And that he was vastly superior to me.

What if I were black and he’d said,

“I’m a little bit of a racist”?

Surely that would not have been socially acceptable behaviour

In enlightened, polite company.

We were in a room full of poets.

The stereotype of a poet is that we are lazy, indolent drug addicts and alcoholics

Who want to party all night and sleep all day

And occasionally write epic poems.

Is this an accurate depiction of the life of a typical bard?

The answer is that we come in all shapes and sizes

And live many different lifestyles.

William Carlos Williams comes to mind.

He wrote poems on prescription pads

Between visits from his medical patients.

We all have our prejudices.

I am one-quarter English

And have to admit that I am not fond of English men.

Many of them are macho bigots

But this, too, is a stereotype.

I’m not proud of this bias of mine

And continually fight against it,

Yet that homophobic writer certainly lives up to this image.

My English uncle, who was a bit of a macho bigot,

Once said to me, as we were driving in a car,

“Real men use a stick shift. They don’t drive an automatic.”

I thought it was one of the most asinine things I’d ever heard.

I imagined poets to be open-minded people

With their fingers on the pulse of the world.

Words of wisdom flow from their pens

And they love all humankind.

Now, what if I were a celibate homosexual

Who never engaged in sexual activity?

Would this zealot still despise me

Because of what I stand for?

I still remember the sneer in his voice

As he kept on interrupting me.

It seemed that my words were totally unimportant to him.

The look of contempt on his face!

I don’t buy bigotry and intolerance of any kind,

Either mine or that of other people.

I had to fight the urge to hit him over the heard

With a baseball bat and tell him he was a piece of shit.

We’re all just human beings fighting to survive

On this treacherous planet full of land mines and spilled blood.

If this ugly little man thinks that what I do in bed is disgusting

Then I have to surmise that his own sex life must be pretty boring,

With the missionary position being his #1 favourite.

After all, in the pitch black of the bedroom,

It could be a man, a woman or a succubus giving you a blow-job

And you couldn’t tell the difference.

Maybe I'm a stupid spoiled whore...

I discovered that I have seasons 8 and 10 of South Park within my DVD collection tonight. Hooray no more having to watch American Idol any more.

I think since I've moved into my new place (1 month+), I've started watching more and more tv. I couldn't watch it ever at my 'rents' place, they always hogged the tv. Pa with his lame movies and Ma with her lame shows (she loves Charmed, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, 7th Heaven).

Tonight, I watched South Park's "Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset" and it was hilarious. South Park is one of those shows that many people write off, but they completely forget how freakin hilarious and spot on its satire is.

Now my only issue is that it highlights just how stupid Paris Hilton i and I've been having some really stupid moments lately.

First, I forgot to put a stamp on an envelope...that's stupid! This last week alone, I've had some not so bright moments.

On Sunday, I was driving and my car kept accelerating and then slowing down, accelerating and slowing down. I'm thinking 'oh crap, my car is fucked. here's another bill to pay.' Turns out that it was in gear 2, not drive.

All week long, I've been putting the Pam (the non-stick spray, not the big breasted baywatch gal) in the fridge. It's happened twice now and finally today, I actually stopped myself.

My final moment was just now in the shower. I put my Life brand face gel in my hands and then proceeded to rub it all over my scalp. Face gel on the scalp...like it was shampoo. I'm a kinda special today.

So while I can laugh at South Park's depiction of Paris Hilton, a little part of me feels some karma coming along as my brain disintegrates into nothing-ness. :)

Do you get tested?

Today, I did what I do every year. I went and got STI/HIV tested. To me, it's an annual tradition that all, especially queer males need to do.

Every year, it completely freaks me out and takes me many weeks to actually call and make an appointment.

This year, it was a little bit easier. My health clinic has finally got the instant HIV test. Instead of agonizing for weeks over everything, at least that one can get out of the way.

It's kinda like a pregnancy test. One blue for 'yeah' or two blues and you get more testing. Before I knew it, the nurse returned with the test and it showed only one blue. So woohoo!!

Now I get to wait the 2 weeks to await no call. Why no call? Cuz no call is good news! A call is not so good news on the STI testing front. So if one Bonnie Case leaves me a message, then I've got me some worry.

So my question for the day is: Do you get tested? How often? Do you freak about it like me?

Poll of the Week: Do you piss in the shower?

Let's implement a poll of the week.

Here's our chance to discover new things about one another and mostly kinda gross things (imho).

I was in the shower this morning, when I was reminded of a conversation that I had with a friend a number of years ago.

She revealed to me that she pissed in her shower and I was completely grossed out. Her reaction was 'What, you've never pissed in your shower?' And no, I hadn't.

The whole 'it's a drain' argument didn't work on me either. It's a drain, so that water can go down it and that's it. I don't do my dishes in my toilet or my shower either. Even though, it's a drain just like the sink. Also, I don't piss in my sink, even though it's just a drain.

If I feel the need to piss, I go before the shower. If I need to during the shower, I get out, piss, and then return to the shower. Or just hold it for the remainder of the shower. If I can hold it in the car, I can certainly hold it a few more minutes as I'm cleansing.

So for this week...check out the poll to the right and fill it in.

Do you piss in the shower?
Often
Sometimes
I did once
Never
No, but I might now.

Oops...

Oops...

Well after 55 days in a row with a new posting, I kinda forgot to do one yesterday.

You see, I checked in the afternoon and decided to post later on in the day.

Then I hung out with a bud, watched 'Wanted' and passed out right afterwards. Mostly due to exhaustion and cuz the movie was kinda silly.

I didn't even realize that I hadn't posted until my drive home today, when I was doing some contemplating.

You see, today is the 6 month anniversary of another project that I've been working on called 'Say Something!' After 6 months, I'm debating whether or not this project needs to continue. It was created as a space for (queer) individuals to get talking about whatever issues they were facing. I'm kinda running out of issues...

So it was with the thought of ending that project that I was thinking about this one and then all of a sudden realized that I had just ended this one - by mistake. The idea was to write a new post for a month. I accomplished that and figured that I'd just keep going until I couldn't write any more. Instead the universe decided I was done writing yesterday. :)

What's funny is that I was thinking all this and then I turned on the radio. Guess what came on? By no coincedence, Nelly Furtado's 'All Good Things Come To An End.' Haha...isn't that crazy?

So yes, I'm not sure what's going to happen or what's happening...but for now, this blog is alive, just with a new purpose. No longer am I chained to posting every day. I'll still post, perhaps not daily.

As this blog goes in a new direction, what would you like to see more of or less?

If you read this blog and don't already contribute...e-mail me and you can certainly contribute!!!

Confession: I love the whorehouse!

If you've never heard of it, you were obviously not born in the 80's. If you've never seen it, you're missing out on a true delight.

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas is pure nostalgia for me. I've probably watched this film from age 5 and onwards way over 250 times. I've listened to the soundtrack (on record and cd) way more than that. It's really that great!!!

It's the story of Dolly Parton who runs a whorehouse and is named Miss Mona and Burt Reynolds as Sheriff Ed Earl.

Everything is running smoothly at the chicken ranch (aka whorehouse) until a local cable news guy exposes it and gets everybody all up in arms.


Now that's the serious stuff, the rest of the time there's dancing boys and girls (and naked!), great songs, and lot of messing around. This is actually the film that features 'I Will Always Love You' by Dolly Parton way before Whitney turned it into a over sung power ballad.

I've no clue how I even started watching this movie. All I remember is that my Mom used to fast forward passed the parts with nudity. My sister and I used to go down to her friend's house and her parents would let us watch the naked parts there. After awhile, my Mom just gave up and we were exposed to it all.

I had this film on Beta for a number of years and it was a kind of tradition for those that would come to my cottage for the first time. They'd have to watch it (and He-man X-mas) on Beta and nobody's ever hated it. It's just good campy fun with great music. You ever get to see Burt Reynolds belt out a tune. Sadly, a flood destroyed the copy this last April.

I strongly recommend everybody check it out. If you've seen it, please share your thoughts on it. If you haven't, what's holding yah back?

Hey All,

Well it has been ages since I have written, so I thought it was time.  I actually think this is my first one this year.  Anyways this is all about the dreaded interview.  Ok I am sure I am not alone here, but going to an interview sucks.  I mean I am all good at putting on a show, but the whole anticipation before and after is dreadful.  I don't know about you, but I get the cramp in the stomach, the sweaty palms, shake nervously and my voice changes pitches throughout.  You go in, knowing nothing about them and really they know nothing about you and you have 45 minutes to prove you are the right person for the job.  They always ask you the same stupid questions, name three strengths/weaknesses, name a time you helped solve a difficult situation.  I suck at giving answers.  Put me on the job and I can show you how good I am.  Give me a one week trial along with the other interviewees and I can prove that I am the right person.  I have gone on three interviews this year, two for the same job and didn't get it.  It was quite disheartening.  I was told I was too junior.  

Now the job was going to be almost 20,000 more then what I make now, and I really didn't have the experience, but it hurts to get rejected.  I think I am a nice guy, a hard worker, and a quick learner, in more ways then one.  ; )  I don't have the financial background in education but I do have almost five years accounting training.  Oh well, the funny thing is I am not that unhappy with my job.  Yeah I do complain about it, but at least I am not getting laid off like the thousands of others during this time.  It pays ok, I get benefits, three weeks vacation and enjoy the people I work with.  The job itself has its ups and downs.  And the thing is I have a plan.  I am graduating in five months, and going off over seas in less then a year.  So why am I looking for another job.  Well hey if I can make more money for the next eleven months, have more vacation and more experience why not.  I have my second interview for the second job tomorrow.

So my question is how do you like interviews?  How do you deal with them?  Should I take this job if I get it or stay?

Jumping on the Band Wagon: The Oscars

The nominees for the Oscars were announced this morning and another year goes by that I haven't seen many of the nominees.

Either I used to watch a lot more movies or the Oscars used to select more mainstream films. Which is it?

No nomination for Dark Knight? The flick was a summer blockbuster that was actually good and made more money than anything in a long ass time. If the shitty way too long romantic drama Titanic could take home a shit load of Oscars based on a billion in global box office... why couldn't Dark Knight get a Best Picture nomination?

The only film that I've seen out of the best picture nominees is Milk. This was a good film, but is it an Oscar film? Not so much. Is it Oscar friendly?? Sure, it's a gay success story. Plus a straight actor playing gay. Whoa! What a concept. Don't get me wrong, I liked the movie, but didn't love it.

I've downloaded Slumdog Millionaire and will give it a view in a few days. Fox Searchlight is on a roll with the nominations these last few years. They convinced ppl that Little Miss Sunshine was best picture worthy.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is on my 'to download' list. I really like David Fincher and his style of directing is always good. Cate Blanchett seems to attract nominations to her flicks, yet she didn't get one this time. Instead, Brad managed to over shadow her.

Frost/Nixon?? What?? Why? Anybody seen this? Anybody interested in seeing this?

No clue what The Reader is about. Just that there was a lot of 'controversy' over Kate Winslet winning a supporting acress Golden Globe for what was apparently a lead role.

I'm disappointed to not see Wall-E for best picture too. This film was amazing!!! 2 hours, robots, little human dialogue, and sooo sooo good.

Them my thoughts on the Oscars...what movies have you seen this year?

Don't be a wanker!

Seriously, I don't get it. It's something you can do alone. It's something many of us have been doing for a long time. I'm talking about jerkin off, masturbating, wanking, tuggin it. Whatever you like to call it. For many, it was our first form of sexual exploration.

So my question is why would anybody seek a random encounter with somebody for just this purpose?

I've been strokin for over 15 years and a new person is not going to know what I like. We each have our own technique, rhythm, and tempo. Besides, the psychological impact of me cursing you for only coming over for a stroke off would also kill any enjoyment of the situation.

If I'm going to take the time to chat up a stranger, swap pics, make plans to meet, shower for said meeting, and put on something cute (but not too cute, so it doesn't look like I tried too hard...) - I'm not doing all that for a hand job.

Call me crazy, but all that work better get me a blow job and better yet, a fuck.

What about you? Is the feel of a stranger's hand enough for you?

It's a new day - Obama Style!

This is one long inauguration party. It just keeps going and going and yet, it all seems kinda familiar.

I guess I was hoping for some serious change now that we have Obama.

Instead, I get Aretha, Yo-Yo Ma, and a homophobic preacher. How is this change? Weren't these choices kind of predictable?

Watching the day, it seemed that Biden and his wife were the one's really enjoying themselves. Plus, Biden's wife looked WAY hotter than Obama's. Sexy boots w/ a red jacket compared to grandma's yellow outfit.

We'll have to wait and see how this all turns out. I found Obama's speech to be pretty realistic in the grim picture that he painted of the present situation America is in. His flip side of the optimism that he has for the future was slightly lacklustre.

If he's out of Iraq by 2010, gives every child Health Care, and accuses Bush and his cronies of war crimes...I will be beyond impressed. :)

Let's look to the future and hope that Obama's visit here will come as Harper's government is toppled and we have a new leader in Canada.

DARINKA

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

DARINKA

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

My blonde friend Darinka is a bit of a nutcase

But I like her, just the same.

My friends have always been eccentric or downright certifiable.

Schizophrenic, bipolar, depressives,

They’re always drawn to me.

Darinka spends $400 on a black cocktail dress

But she has nowhere to wear it.

She buys it in a too-small size hoping it will force her to lose weight.

She cries poor mouth then tells me that she has $5,000 in her chequing account.

Darinka talks a mile a minute,

Fantasizing about being a famous screenwriter in L.A.,

Yet I find her poetry to be rather trite, I’m afraid.

This 50-something woman hasn’t had sex in over 20 years.

She doesn’t want to go out in the evening

And leave her frail mother at home.

My parents both decided to check out

Before they became a burden to their 5 children.

Darinka makes dates with me then cancels, at the last minute, because she is depressed.

I’d be suicidal, too,

If I hadn’t had any cock in 20 years

And stayed home every night with my mother.

Who wouldn’t?!

I met Darinka on a film set in Cambridge, Ontario.

We were spectators watching a marathon race in “Saint Ralph”

Starring the venerable Gordon Pinsent.

It was raining and I had holes in my hard, uncomfortable shoes.

By the middle of the first day,

My feet hurt so bad I could only walk on tiptoe.

We saw each other on sets over the next few months

And she started phoning me.

Darinka always says, “I’ll call you in a few days,”

Even though I don’t want to talk to anyone that often

Unless I’m regularly gnawing on their succulent flesh.

This woman has a kind heart but she frequently tells untruths.

She sometimes doesn’t show up for film shoots

And makes up bullshit excuses to her agents.

My friend spends $650 on a Fendi bag that, to me,

Is the epitome of ugliness.

To each his own!

Then Darinka says she can’t afford $25 for a Tarot card reading.

This middle-aged woman thinks she will never find a boyfriend

Or get laid ever again.

We all have our beasts to slay

But I’ll gladly take my troubles over hers,

Any day of the week.

Forgive me for these words.

Now, what would she have to say about me,

One wonders?

“You can do so much,” she tells me.

“I don’t understand why you don’t make $50,000 a year.”

Darinka has never lived away from home.

It’s a hard way to make a life.

Bedbugs Are Gods

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

BEDBUGS ARE GODS

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

These celebrities think they’re so grand.

Little do they know,

But there are celebrity-stalker bedbugs on the red carpet.

They jump off the clothes of the cheering, dirty, poor people in the stands.

They crawl across crimson wool and jump on Kate Winslet’s leg.

They crawl up, tenaciously, and cling to her silk underwear.

As she is telling “Entertainment Tonight” about her love life,

They start munching on her inner thighs.

That’s why the stars always appear fidgety when they’re being interviewed.

Movie stars are caviar to a hungry bedbug

And they don’t even know it.

When Halle Berry became the first black woman to win the Best Actress Oscar,

She had a bedbug chewing on her armpit at the podium.

If you watch the clip on YouTube,

You’ll see her hand move close to her underarm.

Halle is trying to resist the urge to scratch her pits

In front of one billion people.

Bedbugs are everywhere.

A famous Canadian actress had bedbugs

In her mansion condo in Toronto’s Yorkville district.

She had to fly home from her movie shoot to arrange to have them murdered.

My bedbugs are my only real friends.

They keep me company at night.

They fulfill my exhibitionistic tendencies

When I bring home my beautiful buff lovers.

The creep-crawlies applaud our acrobatic lovemaking

And whisper encouragement in my tasty ears.

A cheeky man with a foul-smelling sprayer

Came and killed all my bedbug friends.

I’m still reeling from the pain.

I pay a high-priced escort to beat this guilt out of my system.

Bedbugs take a long time to die.

They wail like a martyred saint and swear like Vietnam vets.

I mourn the death of my bedbug lover.

He used to hop on board and accompany me to dance clubs,

Riding on my shoulder as I hopped around the dance floor.

My bedbugs serve as an alarm clock to save on my electric bill.

They love to feast at dawn, I’m told.

Every morning, they bite my sweet butt at 7 a.m.

So that I never oversleep for work.

Bedbugs are such loves.

They nibble on my earlobes and kiss my rosy cheeks.

They boost my confidence when I’m alone.

Let’s face it.

You’re never lonely when you have bedbugs.

They always come out at night to feast and greet me.

I don’t have to feed them, either,

Or change their litter box

Or walk them three times a day.

Bedbugs are the best thing that ever happened to me.

They changed my life.

I’m sorry,

But I’m getting all choked up

So I can’t continue this discussion.

Oh Dreamers, let's get a reality check!

I've been dreaming on here for about six weeks now and thought it'd be fun to look back and reflect and see if any of the earlier dreams had come true or if they'd simply vanished.

In week #1 - I introduced you to my unrealistic bf, Patrick. He lived in Montreal, was moving to Vancouver and was coming to Toronto in July. Well sad to report that we haven't chatted in almost a month, besides a 'Merry X-mas' text that was exchanged. We got into a groove of skype-ing it up around 11:30 for awhile there, but now that I sleep b4 11, that's been killed. Alas, I'm back to being both realistic and unrealistic single for '09.

In week #2 - I wrote about my dream apartment/condo that included ensuite laundry, fitness centre, indoor pool, incl. utilities and all for the price of $1000/month. Well this one semi came true. I found a great 3 bedroom condo w/ fitness centre, indoor pool, laundramat on premises, and neighbours that I rarely hear/see, but for $1200/month. This one was pretty close to the dream. :)

In week #3 - I had big dreams about a smooth move into my new place. Dad would be only positive, internet would be up and running, the place would be complete within a week. The actual move in went quite smoothly. Took less than 2 hours thanks to the assistance of great friends and family. Plus, friends and family helped with ripping up ugly ass carpet, cleaning tons, and keeping me sane. The internet took a few weeks, but that was worth it. The place is pretty much done, I just need some art work for the walls.

I feel that one might as well dream big and hope for it to come true. I'm a big fan of putting one's thoughts out into the universe and watching to see what you get. While I haven't received all of my wishes, the one's that I most wanted did happen.

I encourage you each to keep on dreaming and spreading what you want. Post on here, share with friends, write a letter to the universe. Be specific, very specific. The universe takes everything from literally.

Have a wonderful week, fellow dreamers!

Can you think of a moment that defines you?

I came along this video today and it's freaking Carlton from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. The nerdy guy that Will always made fun of. The guy who went on to...well nothing of any substance. While, Will went onto much fame, fortune, and some more fortune.

This kid seems pretty cool, he's got all the dance moves, Michael Jackson like style, and yet, he grew up to be an actor that probably was type cast as the loser geek for the rest of his life. Why? Because, that's all that we saw him as due to a memorable role on a popular sitcom for a number of years.

It made me wonder, what moments are there that defined me?

As a worker, I've been in the same field and location for almost 10 years. The position duties change over time, but at its core, it's all the same. Plus, since my first year, I was the calm one, the one who everybody else can turn to, the responsible one. I continue in this role, even though sometimes, it'd be fun to be the one who flips out, yells, and fucks up.

As a person, I'm still an extremist. Shy, yet talkative - once comfortable. Sarcastic to the max. Serious, when I think it's right. No real definitive moment on this one...I think personality is just static.

As an artist recently, my first performance at Queer Cab has defined my work. I did a sexual chair fucking routine with spoken word. It went over really well. A few years later, I'm still sexual, still spoken word, just added some beats to assist with chair fucking routines.

Dig into your life and figure out some defining moments that have shaped you for better or worse.

Haunting of Molly Hartley...A warning.

Hey ya'll.
Please forgive my lack of posts lately.
My computer has been in rehab for a little bit...but now is back.
So this is just a quick one to say Hey...and also send out a flashing warning.
DO NOT rent Haunting of Molly Hartley.
Don't get me wrong...I love my horror movies...even cheesy horror movies.
but this was awful....AWFUL.
It just seemed like they needed to throw Chace Crawford into a movie and make him look cute and BAM...there we go. He wasn't even shirtless for Pete's sake.
Plot holes...no character development...yawn yawn.
Ok ok...I knew it was going to be bad when they didn't release it to be reviewed by critics when it was initially screened...but not this bad.
Bottom line.

Spotted: Hottie Chace in a lame made for tv movie on the big screen.
Don't quit your day job. The small screen is just the right size for now.
For horror, rent something else.
XOXO.
GG

How do you unwind???

I've ended work day #6 in a row and I'm freaking exhausted. I was suppose to 12 days in a row, but I just don't think I have it in me. Between working full time, taking 4 classes through distance, and attempting to be semi social, it's taking a lot out of me.

It's only 9pm and already, I'm set for bed. I've only been up since 7:30 and I got about 8.5 hours sleep last night.

Tonight, I came home and had some veggies w/ dip, finished off Arrested Development season 2 (is there a season 3?), made dinner (egg w/ sausage and yoghurt with apple slices), watched an episode of 'House', and now I'm writing on here before slumber.

Today, I was talking with a work buddy and he's experiencing his first 2 weeks of 40 hour work weeks and a go train commute and it's left him super drained. He literally goes home, watches tv, gets up the next morning and off he goes. I never really understood how ppl that sit all day, go home and sit some more.

In my field, I'm up and about, setting up equipment, playing games, picking up copies from the front office (a good 100 m from my office), and so I'm keeping physical fit, while I work. Though, still feeling lazy for just coming home and watching tv.

My question to you is: how do you unwind after long hours of work?

What a shitty sequel!!!

I'm one of the few, but I really enjoyed the first Fantastic 4. It was fun, funny, and fulfilled my non-existent expectations.

I remember going into it with an ex and just thinking nothing of it. I found myself laughing a lot, enjoying the action, and walked out thinking that it was good popcorn movie fun!!!

I never got around to watching the sequel until tonight. It was surely one shitty sequel!!! This time, it met my expectations. I've never read the comics, but as soon as I saw the title 'Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer', I knew it couldn't be good.

Usually in the comic movies, the 1st is about discovering your powers and the 2nd just throws you into the action. Not so this time, instead we get a wedding and then the drama and then the loss of powers, and a hint of a team breaking up, and a return of an Evil guy (that now they trust...), and in the end...problems solved. Lame, lame, lame. Minimal action, few laughs, just dreadful.

So the question of the day is: what sequel has disappointed you lately?

I don't get sweat pants in public!!!

I'm in no ways a fashionista or really even fashion conscious whatsoever, but I don't freakin get why people wear sweat pants in public.

I'm sitting here at my local library and it's crawling with annoying high school youths. Girls with high pitched laughs and guys with pants tucked into their construction boots.

I'm starting to notice that everybody is wearing sweatpants, especially grey sweatpants and none of them look flattering on any of them.


What happened to wearing a simple pair of jeans or just anything else that is in the least bit attractive? Or do youths just not care about their looks any more?? This I don't believe.

Or are sweatpants the new fashion??? Is this what one wears to look good? Why do they choose the colour grey?

Now don't think I'm hating on the sweats. I love me a good pair of comfy sweats for wearing around the house (when I wear clothes in the house...). Also, I'll wear them when road trippin, cuz jeans can get uncomfy over long distances, but that's about it.

So catch me up, you fashion gurus...what's up with the sweats?

My Friend Douglas

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

MY FRIEND DOUGLAS

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

Douglas lives in total squalor.

You would not believe your eyes.

Years of dead cockroaches hidden under

Stacks of old Playboy magazines.

You walk into his living room

Tripping over junk scattered on the floor.

Mostly film books, porn mags and movie magazines from the sixties.

The kitchen is a mess of dirty dishes and filth,

Probably left over from many years ago.

How could he live in such a pig sty?

All he needs is a vacuum,

Some boxes and five or six bookshelves

Reaching up to the ceiling.

Then everything would be in order.

Doug just turned 65 but won’t apply for pensions,

Which makes no sense to me,

Because he desperately needs the money.

Yet I’m not allowed to touch his precious Madonna “Sex” book,

Placed regally on the back of his couch,

As if it were a tiara from the Crown Jewels.

Doug bought a TV set over a year ago,

Which sits, unpacked, in his crowded hallway.

Dyed jet black hair,

Major health issues that have never been dealt with.

Self-loathing oozes out of every pore in his body.

A childish, explosive temper that lost him a good friend

Because of an argument over some Elvis Presley trivia.

I think life stopped for him when he was 15,

And Doug never moved forward.

Dirt, decay and minor madness

All rolled up into one major mess,

But he’s so much fun to talk to, on the phone,

Late at night,

When the topic of classic movies and old-time movie stars

Comes up.

He knows the life stories of dead celebrities

That most people have never even heard of.

Douglas is a mass of neuroses and major contradictions.

We even had sex, a few times,

Way back in the good old days,

When we were both young, slim and hopeful,

Not knowing what lurked around the sharp corners

Of aging and such.

I wish I could shake him out of this trap.

Get the rusty motor working, again.

Perhaps he sees me as a dreamer.

My friend frustrates me

But I can’t live his life for him.

Please take us back to a happier time.

Winter Thoughts

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

WINTER THOUGHTS

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

The words are percolating inside me

But he sometimes won’t let them out.

Emotions boiling up,

Like a hot, scalding pot on the stove

Ready to explode.

He needs more sunlight to make him feel good,

Putting healing herbs on Bonnie Parker’s shot up leg.

Winter horrors are here, again,

Sitting in a chair like a rotting zombie.

Dreaming of meeting Joni Mitchell

And misunderstandings at parties.

He wants to stay inside,

Sit beside the non-existent fire.

Touch the cold, hard rads and look at the dark chocolate ass

Of the handsome maintenance man.

He’s addicted to fantasies and the Internet

And always wanting things that he doesn’t have.

A new friend asked him why he didn’t move to Southern California,

Which is much easier said than done.

Standing on a hot, wet beach

Gazing out at the glorious ocean.

He wishes for a glass house in the Big Sur,

Making pottery and painting by the tides.

Spending half his life outdoors.

Wishing he had inherited wealth

Like so many of his friends.

Weary of the years and decades of rejection.

Oh, yes!

Give him some success and money,

All the colours of the rainbow.

Talking dolls with real jewels around their necks

And a well-polished Academy Award to sit on his mantle.

Someone to wake up with in the morning.

No giant bedbugs to bite his ass when he sleeps all day.

He needs to look up at the sun,

To feel the healing qualities of violet light

And art created by Old Masters.

Try some witchcraft and affirmations.

Say hello to a cute stranger on the street.

No more bar stools or telephone blabbers

Or bored psychiatrists who give you no decent advice.

They just yawn in your face whilst collecting outrageous paycheques.

Going to art galleries will give him a boost,

Pretending he can afford to buy an original Monet

On auction at Sotheby’s

Instead of Dollarama angel figurines.

He used to walk for hours in the snow,

When he was younger,

Just to keep fit and ponder where his life was headed.

He wondered when things would get better.

When the pot might be full, again,

With a warm, comforting stew

Bubbling on a stovetop that actually works.

Sometimes I'm real stupid!!!

It's days like today that I just feel that a complete stupid retarded loser!!!

I'm going on no sleep this week. On Sunday, a friend rang my buzzer at 2am and awoke me from slumber to which I couldn't get back to sleep.

On Monday, a friend awoke me from a deep slumber with a phone call at 11:30pm. I couldn't get back to sleep.

Last night, I went out to an event and then for food afterwards that I shouldn't have gone too. I got home late and so I got little sleep again.


Me on little sleep = someone really stupid. Ugh...it's kinda hard to admit this.

So this morning, I mailed a letter. Well an application to the Toronto Fringe festival. I was all excited and everything. I haven't applied in like 8 years after my first non-entry into the lottery.

I go about my day and I'm working hard and trying to stay awake and all that. Then I realize something...that one needs to put a stamp on a letter, when they mail it.

See, I haven't sent anything in the mail in YEARS. Like anything that didn't already have a stamp on it. I've had zip.ca (online movie rental service) for awhile and you just pop that shit in the mail as it has a stamp already on it.

At work, I mail stuff out all the time. But there, I put in the outgoing mail and then the admin people add the postage and shit. So literally, I haven't mailed fuck all in forever.

So today, I think I'm being all good mailing in my application bright and early. I do it in Toronto to ensure it'll get there for 4pm on Friday (the deadline). I don't wait, I even am late to work as I have to drive to the closest mailbox, get out and everything. I'm thinking 'woohoo, good on me for not procrastinating' and 'woohoo, now I don't have to send it overnight delivery on thursday...i'm awesome.'

Instead, I'm feeling like a dumbass and can't believe that I put a letter in the mail without a stamp. Plus, I don't know what to do. If you submit something twice, then you get canceled out. Sooo on the off chance that my application makes it there without a stamp and I submit another one, then I can lose. On the other hand, if I don't put anything in, I won't get a chance for a performance. Grrr...it's all so frustrating!!

So yah, please share your stupid tales, so I can feel less like an idiot.

Customer Service Goodness

Today, I had a great customer service experience. I hit up this one pizza pizza probably once every 3 weeks or so. I get the classic super (or pepperoni...whichever looks more fresh) and then turn it into the $5 combo with garlic dipping sauce, an iced tea, and fries.

It's always the same guy and I guess after my 18 months or so of visiting, the guy has started to remember me. Today, I come in, I get the classic super and then he goes to the fridge and pulls out an iced tea and garlic sauce and asks if I want fries.

Some may get Miranda (bonus: if you get the reference) type feelings over this and wonder if they've been visiting a place too frequently or you can acknowledge the awesome-ness of this guy towards his customer service skills.

We always make some small chit chat, when he delivers the food, he says 'here you go, my friend.'

For a fast food experience, it's great and of course, it ensures that I'll return at some point.

What are some great customer experiences that you've had?

Bedbug Blues

Monday, January 12, 2009

BEDBUG BLUES

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

What a way to start the New Year!

Bedbugs are the scourge of the planet.

Just when I got my place all nice and cozy,

Tchochkas all over,

My collection of miniature high heels, crystals and angels sitting happily

All over the apartment.

Now the evil sprayers have to come and kill the little shits.

Those hideous bugs crawl all over you when you’re in bed.

Suck my blood.

They shit in my clean sheets.

All I’ve been doing is laundry, laundry for weeks,

It seems,

Trying to kill those ugly, wicked bed bugs.

Now I have to dismantle my ordered life

To let the Pest Control people

Enter my den of iniquity to spread poison all around.

I itch and scratch and scream inside my head,

So freaked out by these tiny beasts.

My mind spinning,

My life in turmoil.

The jacks thrown into the air and nothing has landed

Except bedbugs crawling and creeping over me

In the dark.

I’m afraid to go to sleep.

Don’t know what to do.

The blood is being sucked out of me.

I have no pills to overdose on.

No money for a new bed.

Nowhere to go to hide.

A giant bedbug held me down and raped me.

Bit off my cock and ate it for lunch.

I feel like the mother corpse in “Psycho”

Sitting lifeless and rotting in a fruit cellar.

I need order and serenity.

I love peace.

A place for everything and everything in its place.

This is not where I want to be expending my energy.

Take me away to my house by the sea.

With no money worries.

Shooting movies in Chile and living off the land.

I read a book where a bourgeois woman from the States

Went to live with Native People in the South American rain forest.

Everyone had lice, including her.

How hideous, I thought.

Little critters crawling all over your body.

Biting your skin.

Sucking the life out of your veins.

One day, this will be over, I hope.

No more upheaval or chaos.

Despair rushing down to the earth,

Like a lanced wound draining pus out of the bowels of my brains.

This is not the way to begin a New Year.

I’ve fallen into a David Cronenberg film,

With Alfred Hitchcock as my advisor

And Stephen King as my mentor.

I love listening to Bessie Smith sing,

“Mean Old Bedbug Blues”.

Little did I realize that one day I would live

Smack dab in the middle of that lowdown Dirty Thirties blues song.
Give me a pig foot and a bottle of beer

‘Cause nobody knows you when you’re down and out.

Bessie, honey, I got them lowdown, no good,

Mean old bedbug blues,

Just like you.

Bitter bugs aging me.

Putting dried up wrinkles onto my actor’s headshot.

Away!

My bedbugs are Olympic champions.

They jump off the towel rack into the bathtub

And sprint across the wide expanse.

They run relay races across the carpet

When I sleep on the floor to avoid the horrors.

I even saw one do a back flip, after a particularly sumptuous meal.

But my favourite was the one in pink satin drag

Wearing “come fuck me” pumps.

His wig was blonde and crooked

And made of my pubic hairs.

Yes, they can get very industrious while you sleep.

I also saw a Bedbug Awards ceremony

One tawny, sleepless night.

The top prize was “Best Bite” won by a waddling, blood engorged old pro.

He farted out blood at the podium

And his peers exploded with applause.

Seeing a bedbug in a beaded Armani gown on the red carpet

Is quite the dazzling sight, I must say.

But what I want to know is this:

What purpose do they serve,

In the scheme of things?

Except maybe to make people miserable

And to disrupt our domestic lives.

I’d rather be bunted by a playful dolphin

In the warm Pacific Ocean at sunset

On a mystical day in Paradise.

Unrealistic Land: Another Semester Starts...

Hello dreamers,

It's Monday and it's time to cast our dreams out into the universe and see what she'll bring us.

For this week, I'm asking for a semester unrealistically filled with nothing but soothing sounds of the ocean and compliments from every teacher.

Assignments will melt away, when they realize my intelligence merely at the mention of my name. Hours spent on discussion boards will no longer be required. For I am King of the program and a King never needs to prove themselves.

Endless hours reading, studying, writing and editing essays will be filled with strictly oral exams. Oral exams done on my stunningly hot teachers.

This semester shall conclude halfway through with a surprise party to celebrate all of our accomplishments. A's will be given out to the highest bidder and magically, everyone will have much less money than I.

It's going to be a wonderful semester, where my 4 courses won't at all interfere with either my social life nor full time job and artistic pursuits.

Come April, I'll see a refund for all my course funds, as the teachers will acknowledge that it is I that taught them a thing or two.

With this return deposit, I will excuse myself from life for a month long escape to Brasil, where I'll get up to no good in a stunning paradise.

Arrested Development - Hidden Gem!

For those of you exposed to Arrested Development many a years ago when it first came on air, congrats to you!!!

Those of you like me, who tried watching and never grasped it, I encourage you to check it out now.

My boss lent me the DVDs for the 1st 2 seasons and halfway through the 2nd season, I'm starting to get that sadness that comes with cancelled TV shows on DVD. You love the show, but you're aware that there's only so many episodes left until it's all over and done.

This show is a serialized sitcom and that's why it never was a huge success. If you tune into one episode, you literally have no clue what's going on. Plus, you miss a bunch of the laughs that come from knowing all the back story.

Essentially, the story follows a family who's one son tries to hold everybody together after their father is sent to prison for naughty dealings. The mother is hilarious as she's a cold hearted bitch. The eldest son is a magician, who's a completely dick. The youngest son still loves and obeys his mother's every whim. The responsisble son's son is wickedly awkward with his crush on his possible cousin, Maebe. Plus there's great guest stars in Liza Minelli (surprisingly coherent), Henry Winkler, and Carl Weathers.

If you want to watch something marathon style over a rainy weekend, I strongly suggest this show. The 2nd season keeps getting stonger and it's amazing how well the writer connect EVERYTHING!!!

Check it out!

Empathy for a Hater!

This article stirs up different emotions in me.

Donors supporting Prop. 8 are upset that it's been revealed by public records about their financial contributions. They cite that due to this companies have been boycotted, death threats have been made, and fliers spread around town calling one a Bigot.

Which is no different than the queers that have been isolated, physical assaults they've taken, and you know daily confrontations of 'Die, you fucking faggot.'

It appears that in their quest to remove basic civil rights from queers, these donors have simply been confronted with what they've put out there. What goes around, comes around, my friends.

Yet, I do feel some empathy for these haters. As Paulo Freire taught me that it's not about removing the power from the oppressor and turning them into the oppressed. This creates a power imbalance that can be as devastating as the original situation.

I empathize with somebody who stands up for what they genuinely believe in and who now faces hardship over it. I call out ignorance as being the main reason for people who blindly give away their money citing religious belief. Many people voted for this Bill on the idea that their churches would be forced to conduct gay marriages amongst other ridiculous scare tactics. The other side won by offering The Stupids a 'legitimate' reason to vote against them.

The no on Prop 8 side would be wise to empathize with what's happening to those who financially supported the Bill. To compare their plight to the plight of many queers on a daily basis. One of the campaign's biggest failure was taking the Gay out of a gay issue.

No one should face retribution for believing in a cause, they should face compassion and our continued attempt to show them that our side isn't deviant.

To campaign against the dark, one should offer light.

Confessing to a lie!

Take a moment to read the above caption and then laugh with delight when you get it. :)

Moving along to today's posting...

It's Friday and time for another confession and this week, it's debating whether I'm a liar or not.

On December 1st, I started this blog with the idea that I wanted to post something new for 30 days in a row. It was an opportunity to no longer agonize over one's writing and simply post whatever was on my mind at that very moment.

Now here's the thing, I have been posting something new for 37 days, but I don't write them every day.

This week, what's been posted has been written that day. Last week, I was in Manhattan for 5 days, so I wrote 5 postings in advance as I wasn't sure what my net access would be like. Some days, I get in a groove and write 4 things and then set them up to be posted over a period of 4 days.

Does this make me a liar? Does it invalidate this project? Does it really matter?

This week's confession is more of a question. If your intention is not to deceive, can your impact be different?

For the purposes of the project, my intention is to simply write 30 new thoughts a month and I feel that I met that expectation.

Individuals who come to this site always have something new posted by either myself or the other contributors on a daily basis. This is certainly no easy feat and somewhat of a rarity for newly born blog.

Well that's my semi confession for the week...

What's the point of illness?

Someone tell me the point of being ill??? Honestly, it makes no freaking sense to me!!!

Why do we need illness? Why do we need to get sick? It's just a freaking waste of time.

I had 2 weeks vacation and now I'm back to work and so it's a little stressful due to a lot of things going on.

I come home on Tuesday night after working a long ass day, feel the need to pass out, and wake up to feeling super ill. Super ill = puking like crazy for 2 hours straight. Ugh...it was awful. It freakin burned my throat, it was like pure poison. I had a glass of water to hydrate myself and that just brought up all sorts of badness.

Of course, I have to take a day off work, cuz now I've no sleep and feel sick all day. I slowly ease myself back onto food by sipping on a water bottle until 1pm. 2 pieces of toast with butter throughout the afternoon. Finally, some pasta with chicken in the evening. Thankfully, everything stays down and I'm starting to feel better. It's only a 24 hour flu...awesome!!!

I wake up this morning and now I've got a head cold. My nose is stuffy and my sinuses are filled. No fun at all. :( I have to go to work, cuz I have a staff orientation to get through. So I endure a 10 hour day, where I don't recall anything that I did. So hopefully, I didn't fuck up all that much.

Now I'm at home, still stuffed up and eagerly awaiting tomorrow to come and my work day to be over and done with.

From there, I can head downtown to pick up my school books for this semester, reference letters for a grant due next week, and then back to my place for some well deserved rest. :)

My question is, what do you think the point of being sick is??? Cuz I don't see one at all!!!

Why do we believe?

When we're younger, we're told to believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and even Jesus. What is the benefit? We grow up and learn that Santa is a skinny man in need of funds around the holidays, the Easter Bunny is merely a creepy notion, and Jesus nor his brother Bob have never been proven.

What's the point of belief? Does it not just end up hurting us in the end? Is the brief bit of happiness worth the amount of pain in the end?

The greatest lie is what exists in our relationships. From cheating to lies to half truths, the lack of honesty is relationships is truly sad.

A friend of mine told me that she had caught her partner cheating only to discover that the truth had come out. Alas, the guy wasn't cheating on her, he was merely jerking off into condoms. I couldn't believe that she had fallen for such an obvious lie. Only to discover that another friend had fallen for the same lie.

Half truths seem to keep a relationship together. Whether it's twisting words or simply leaving out the whole story, so many people have demonstrated this. An ex of mine, I always need to ask very specific questions of. He's very good at keeping things vague in an effort to not hurt others. When in the end, he ends up hurting them.

A recent trip demonstrated that the whole story isn't always given out. When a dude that I was sleeping with was asked by a guy that he had recently starting dating, who had woken up with on New Year's Day, he told a half truth. He correctly identified that he had woken up beside a friend, but didn't share that on the other side was not a friend, but someone he had slept with.

What'd you think? If you had kids, would you lie to them about make believe characters?

When in a relationship, do you tell half truths in a supposed effort to make your partner happy?

I guess bigger is better...

I tried, I swear that I really tried. It just didn't work out. For once, I went for the smaller sized and thought it'd work out well. Sure, it was a little different and not quite what I wanted, but I really wanted to give the smaller one a chance. In the end, it just didn't work out. The smaller size just didn't fit. I had to cut it loose and hit up the bigger size.

That's right, I went for a smaller internet company and it failed drastically.

Recently, I moved into a new place and was looking around for good internet deals. I did some online research and found a company called 'Acanac.' They had DSL for only 18.95 a month including taxes. I thought 'hoor-ah' - who needs the big guys (rogers/bell), when you can get great service at a reasonable price.

I was wrong, wrong, wrong! You see, the little guy has to feed off the tit of the big guy. Soooo, Acanac hires Bell technicians to come and install the service into your home. The trouble is that Bell sucks hard and either just doesn't care about customers or especially doesn't care about a smaller company's customers.

I was called by Acanac on Dec. 22nd to inform me that a Bell technician would arrive between 8-5pm (possibly even 8pm) on Dec. 24th. I wait around until 8:30 to nothing... I miss X-mas eve dinner for first time in entire life. I am sad.

I call and complain and get a Bell technician booked for Dec. 27th from 9-5pm. I have the television screen on in my front lobby. This time, I ain't missing nobody. I wait and nothing. I am pissed.

I write in to cancel my service get told that I have to call into the office after the holidays.

I go away on vacation, I return, I call in. I get told that I must email them to cancel a service. How does one cancel an internet service by e-mail with no service??? What an excellent question. I asked them too and they said that they require written confirmation. Thankfully, I'm at work and I sent in a notice.

I promptly visited the Rogers kiosk at my local mall, waited 1 hour, and walked out with portable internet. You see, you don't need to wait for anybody with portable internet. You just plug it in and it works, in various places across Canada. I take it home, expecting it not to work, but my friends, it does and I am pleased.

While I tried going after the little guy, I am pleased to announce that the big one's always make me much happier. :)