2009: Most played songs on my ipod

It's the end of the year and there's a ton of top 10 lists going around on the internet.  I had the idea of checking in with my ipod's most played list of songs that I added in '09.  This means that the song could have been released at another time, but I didn't discover it until this year.  I tend to get obsessed with a new album and put them on repeat.  For this reason, I'll only take the top song from an album and move onto another.

Here's the top 5:

1) Don't Let Me Stop You by Kelly Clarkson - This is def. one of the better power rock pop songs off of Kelly's All I Ever Wanted album.  For someone's who been through way too many partners for one year and held onto a few past expiry, this was a good song for me. 

2) Touches You by Mika - Not added until September and yet it's #2 on my list.  Why?  Cuz it's soooo freakin' awesome.  Yes, it totally riffs on George Michaels, but who cares.  It's music.  In concert this last October, it was my favourite song and had the entire crowd dancing.

3) 4ever by Prince - So many people destroyed Prince's 3 album release (well 2 from him, one from his protege).  But like every other album released by an artist, there's a few great tracks on each album.  4ever is a story about waiting on a love, well forever. :)

All I Want To Do by Sugarland - This is a country song.  Which started my semi-renewed in country again.  It's an upbeat positive song about being in love sung with an awesome southern twang.

I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas - Unlike the rest of the list, I seriously can't stand this song now.  There was a time though, when it pulled me out of the blues and gave me faith that today would be a better day. 

There you have it, my ipod's top 5 played songs of 2009.  Judging by this, I was craving some good times and love this year.  What was your top played song of 2009?

FRANCES FARMER

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

FRANCES FARMER

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

“Peter,” said Frances Farmer. “I never had a lobotomy.
A lot of ‘Shadowland’ was pure bullshit. But you know that, already.”
Her head, covered in soft, curly blonde hair, spoke to me from the swirling mist
On the Other Side.
That’s all I could see of her.

The Frances Farmer saga has fascinated me since I read
“Will There Really Be a Morning?” when I first left home in 1973.
I worked at a slave place, with a cruel boss, washing hair
And giving blow dries in a trendy hair salon for about $1.50 an hour.
I loathed it.
I was not in the best frame of mind and reading the book
Threw me into a tailspin of depression.

“Peter. I had such a horrible life, really,” Frances whispered to me,
As if in a dream.
“I had everything: beauty, brains, fame and money.
It all got washed away in a sea of booze.
Listen to me, baby. Steilacoom was as horrible as all the books said.
A hellhole of rape and abuse. We lived like pigs in the back rooms.
It’s an old story, told too many times.”

Frances was just a floating apparition, wafting in the ether.
“Darling, there was no conspiracy against me.
I was a woman with a lot of rage and an alcohol addiction.
I wish I could go back and do it again.
I never got a fair shake.
Being a movie star sucked, actually.
The scripts stank and the hours were the pits.
Who wants to get up at 4:30 in the morning
And spend hours getting your hair and makeup done, every day?
Not me.”

Her story makes me very sad.
Every time I watch the movie “Frances”,
I get so angry that I have to turn it off.
Then I put it on, again, because the tale is so compelling
And Jessica Lange and Kim Stanley are so wonderful in it.

Does everyone know the story of Frances Farmer,
The actress who allegedly went crazy and ended up in the looney bin
For almost a decade?
After her release, she got a job sorting dirty laundry in a hotel in Eureka, California.
Then she ended up having some dumb afternoon TV show in Philadelphia
Introducing old movies.

Gorgeous is a word to describe her.
Talented, mercurial, tortured, idealistic, not really loved.
A heartbreaking saga but the stuff that great drama is made of.
“Frances” gave a great role to the legendary Kim Stanley
Who played her mother in the movie bio.
Stanley was another alcoholic with a monumental talent.
She only made 5 movies, if you count the narration for “To Kill a Mockingbird”.
Two of them garnered her Oscar nominations.
Kim would always quit a Broadway show before the run ended.

Talent equals genius equals torture equals trouble and strife,
At least some of the time.
Was I just daydreaming?
Did Frances really talk to me?
Farmer made a lot of crappy movies.
She didn’t die alone.

Luscious features, the body of a sex symbol,
The mind of an Orson Welles.
She drifts through infinite time,
Weeping softly and sometimes laughing till tears fill her eyes.
Watch “Come and Get It” on the late show
If you want to know what I’m talking about.
Frances Farmer was a saint,
A rabble-rouser, a goddess and a lush.

Her voice drifted off into the cosmos.
“We’ll speak, again, my dear,” she murmured.
I know I will contact her, again, sometime.
Vincent Van Gogh, Judy Garland, Montgomery Clift.
I’d love to have their talents but I wouldn’t want to live their lives.

It's X-mas Eve...

It's X-mas eve and Santa will soon be arriving.  I know you're all looking at this pic and thinking 'Mmmmm...if only Santa really looked like this.' ;)

I'm sitting in my parents' living room staring at the x-mas tree with way too many presents under the tree and wondering what the rest of you are up to.

Are you alone?  Are you with family?  Are you wrapping gifts?  Are you drunk?

Tonight, we did our annual x-mas eve traditions.  Us kiddies got to open one present and surprise surprise, it was pjs.  It's funny cuz I don't wear pjs any other nite of the year, but tradition is tradition.

Pa read 'Twas the night before x-mas' and I recorded it this year.  We helped to finish each sentence and for some reason, I thought that 'while St. Nick danced in their heads' was the correct line to yell out loud.  Apparently, it's visions of sugar plums....my bad.

X-mas story done and then a few passages from the bible read.  This led into a picture taking session in front of the fireplace w/ my bro and I.  Sis wasn't here this year as she's a traitor. :P

Tomorrow, we will be opening X-mas presents at noon w/ the arrival of nephew and sis.  This will lead into our usual marathon of opening presents.  It takes so long, because we open one by one from eldest to youngest.  Each person gets to open one present, we all stare in amazement, and then move on.  Honestly, it's gone on for 3 hours plus in previous years.

How have you spent your x-mas eve?  What traditions have been renewed and which one's broken?  What will x-mas day entail?

ANOTHER FUCKING DAY

I like to have a Martini. Two at the very most. After three, I’m under the table. After four, I’m under my host.

Dorothy Parker

Saturday, December 19, 2009

ANOTHER FUCKING DAY


By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns


Drink till you can’t stand up.
Drink till you puke on the carpet.
Drink till the red wine spews out of your ass.
Imbibe until it kills you.
After all, death isn’t so bad.
It’s better than working at telemarketing
And always being broke.
Shoot up till you overdose.
What a fucking way to go, baby!!
Stick that effing needle in your arm and fly to the moon.

Snort coke till your nose haemorrhages.
Till you have a seizure.
Nobody cares whether you live or die.
Maybe all my paintings and writing will go in the dumpster when I kick the bucket.
All that fucking work down the drain.

So give me a bottle of lye, just like that fabulous actress, Rachel Roberts.
She killed herself over Rex Harrison who farted on stage, once.
I wouldn’t look twice at that asshole but she died for him, violently.
The force of the concoction she ingested propelled her through a glass Chinese screen in her kitchen.
Way to go, Rachel. You fucking rock, baby.

Stick that needle in your arm full of smack and speed.
It killed John Belushi.
Now, if you’re lucky, it’ll do the same for you.

I’m just pissing in the wind, here.
No one is listening.
Everyone I know is in AA or Narcotics Anonymous.
Let’s just go to sleep.
Forget about all the drek and bullshit.
All the bills you can’t pay.
The dreams that never came true.
The ones who never loved you.
Who didn’t want to suck your dick.

The pretty blonds who slipped through your grasp.
The success that eluded you.
All the nightmares that came true.
The fantasies that remained just that: illusions and disillusionments.

Pour another glass of Coke.
Spike it with Southern Comfort and just a touch of hemlock.
Give me a dozen reefers.
I don’t even want to know what planet I’m on.
Someone’s down there between my legs
And I don’t give a shit who it is.
If it’s a stinky wino, I don’t give a fuck.
Just get me off.
Shove a hot poker up my ass.
Anything to make me forget about my fucking life.

Montgomery Clift was too fragile for this planet.
He drank himself to death.
Took too many pills.
Yet he was gifted with the talents of a genius.
Let me put my arm around you, Monty.
It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.
You were smart.
You got out while the going was still good.
You didn’t stick around till you needed diapers and a drool cup.
You didn’t mess your pants in the nursing home.

Kenneth Williams, from the Carry-On movies,
Wrote in his journal, “Oh, what’s the bloody use?”
Then he offed himself.
I ask myself the same question, frequently.
But a little voice keeps me going.
This Aquarian feeling that maybe tomorrow will be better.
That I am worth something despite all the shit and piss
Rubbed into my unwilling face, on a daily basis.

This snake pit is an evil place.
I climb up the hill and roll back down into this sewer, again and again.
What is to be done?
Just breath.
Get out of bed. Get ready for the day.
Try not to stink or waste too much time.
Have another drink.
Fill up the syringe.
Load up the hookah.
Get out the rolling papers.
Unzip your fly.
Tomorrow is another goddamned, fucking shitty day.
What the hell is to be done?

Tis the season...awards season!

Awards season is upon us. The Golden Globes were announced yesterday and a slew of others will be coming in the next few months all leading up to gay Christmas, the Oscars. The hit of the Golden Globe is "Up in the Air" a dramatic comedy with George Clooney and director by the guy who did Juno.

Now, I am by no means a George Clooney fan. He comes off as a bit too smug for my liking, however he's great in this film. The female leads are fantastic and were also nominated. Anna Kendrick (from the underrated movie Camp) plays a fresh of of university overachiever. As the film progresses we get to see there's more to her than we initially thought. It's kind of a perfect movie...a simple story with flawed, funny and relatable characters.

The other big flick for Awards is Precious. It's been getting a TON of buzz. I think it's a good movie but not nearly as fantastic as Oprah and Tyler Perry would like us to believe. Plus I wanted to slit my wrists and after it was done. Mo'nique has a few amazing scenes but some moments in the film feel like a bad made for tv movie. Most surprising is that Mariah Carey can act! Her part isn't very flashy, but she does a respectable job and, dare I say it, shows some potential for being a working actress in the future.

Other notable movies that should be getting awards this winter are 500 Days of Summer, Julie and Julia (in a perfect world Meryl Streep would win an Oscar every year) and The Blind Side (will be seeing this tomorrow, we'll see if Sandra Bullock is deserving of the buzz she's been getting).

Any awards season faves?

Olympics on Stolen Land > your protest against them

I think activism is super-important. In my history of comitting it(and make no mistake, activism is something you do, not something you think about) I have been blacklisted, spat upon, been targetted for various types of thrown objects, gasses, and hoses, and narrowly escaped arrest (RGH goes to jail? sounds like a musical).

HOWEVER

I feel really disillusioned lately. The current "No Olympics on Stolen Land" protest that is so popular with many people (including dear friends with whom I have agreed %%100 with before) is so centrally flawed and ass-backward. The activists yell "OLYMPICS = COLONIAL THEFT OF INDIGENOUS LAND!!!!!! CORPORATE PROFIT GRABBING!!!!!! ECOLOGICAL DESTRUCTION!!!!!! MILITARIZATION!!!!! MIGRANT EXPLOITATION!!!!!!" The people yelling the loudest seem to be students, who are ignoring the fact that their precious institutions are similarly built on stolen land(true also of the spaces they party in and the jobs they hold down). Why are the Olympics being blamed for things like migrant exploitation and ecological destruction when pretty much every thing that exists in north america is guilty of the same? I'm not suggesting for a second there aren't problems with the big O's, but the current protest will achieve nothing other than further marginalizing the activists' arguments. Colonialism, Corporatization, and Militarization are real problems, but there are MUCH worse offenders, much closer to home. If we hold the Olympics accountable, we must hold every business, organization, and entity that does the same.

A lot of activism seems to be about famewhoring. The excellent Stop Murder Music Campaign is sometimes overtaken by folk who'd rather be quoted in the press when someone big or notorious comes along then do anything when someone whose music they like or hypocritically deem as being "in the interest of artistic freedom" comes to town. A few summers ago, a big theatre-related protest centered around a man who isn't even allowed in the country. His absence negated the efforts of people who worked long and hard to make sure their outfits would be seen on tv and their voices could be hear loud and clear. They updated their facebook statuses and played cafe politics instead of doing something actually productive. In the end hype and the the publicity machine trumped actual political engagement.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not turning my back on protest life...I love complaining too much! However, I promise to back up that complaining with action, and to think through things. I hate seeing corporate logos everywhere, but I understand that money is needed to make things happen and that they have as much right to try and make a dollar as I do. Racism (and eveything else it engenders) sucks, but working from without is less effective than working from within. I'll be watching the Olympics this year with excitement, and I don't feel like I need to apologize to anyone for that. That is, until Canada's medal haul is again embarassingly low :P

Who's your cheerleader?

A conversation with a bud made me wonder something about all of you, who's your cheerleader?

In your life, who supports you? Who jumps for you when you arrive? Who keeps you going after you want to quit?   You know, who's your cheerleader?

I've previously written about my 3 mentors in my life, these would definitely be my cheerleaders.  One for work, one for the arts and one for life.  Not a bad trio at all!!!

I, then, have my posse of friends.  The one's who support & berate me through horrible decisions. Who, then, still console me when I finally realized what they saw months ago.  They're also the one's who volunteer on my many art projects.  Who stay my friend, even when I don't see them for months due to my crazy lifestyle.

I grew up being taught to be very independent and self reliant.  Around my early 20's, I started realizing that while I can do it on my own, I prefer having a support network. 

It's a pretty simple question, who's your cheerleader?

A year of completion

So to celebrate the one year anniversary of Let's Be Vain, I have decided to chat about the year of completion for me.  Big changes have occurred in my life (most of them in the past month and a half).  And here it goes;

1) School - Well this is a major one.  Eight years it took me to get my undergraduate but I finished it.  Too be honest I never thought the day would come when I could say I am done university.  I started at Laurier back in 2001, such a long time ago, with high hopes and inspiration to stay in Waterloo for four years.  It turns out I didn't last past one year.  See the school was great, but the town sucked.  There was only one gay bar and it was lame.  On top of that I had a bf back in Toronto and the floor I was living on was full of 20 straight guys (well turns out at least one was gay...but he never came out to me).  Anyways I decided to move back to Toronto and go to U of T.  Unfortunately I didn't make the cut the first year, long story.  So I worked for a year and started at U of T in 2003 part time.  U of T turned out to be quite a challenge, especially working full time on top of it.  I failed two classes and barely pass many others and it just never seemed to end.  There were many points I thought of giving up and dropping out, but I got my act in gear and worked hard.  My marks improved and I started enjoying school again up to this last year.  I finished my last course on November 30th and couldn't be happier.  I know I will get a good mark and I ended on a high note.  I am proud to say I stuck with it and it paid off.

Relationships - In February I met a boy and we quickly started dating.  He seemed to be perfect for me and compliment me in every way.  We never argued and always enjoyed doing the same things.  As time rolled on, I realized that things that seem perfect rarely are.  What I realized is that we were both ignoring issues we had with each other and scared to confront them.  I was in that relationship for all the wrong reasons.  I was scared to be alone (really I have been in some type of relationship for the past 9 years).  I also realized that it is wrong to be with someone when you love someone else.  In the end back in November we broke up and I do hope that even though our relationship is over, one day we can be friends.

Family - Back in August a very important person to me (my grandma) lost her 5 year battle to colon cancer.  She put up an amazing fight and made it to 80.  She was one tough lady but had the biggest heart.  There was something about walking into her home, where you instantly felt like it was yours.  No matter who came over, she was there waiting with a smile, a hug and food.  The last eight months were tough, but I was fortunate enough to spend plenty of time by her bedside, watching her favourite shows, playing scrabble, watching her do her scratch and wins.  In the end she went peacefully and is now off wherever she is with my papa.  

All in all, it has been a year of completion.  Funny how it is also the end of one decade and the beginning of the next.  I hope that the 10's are just as exciting as the 0's were.

THE AFTER-LIFE

Friday, December 11, 2009/Thursday, January 7, 2010

THE AFTER-LIFE

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

Thank God, the overdose is taking effect.
Won’t have to live on this shitty planet any longer.
Yippee!!
Fuck you, Planet Earth.
Hope I never see you, again.
Eat shit and die.

Oh, I feel so relaxed.
A little scared, I have to admit.
If that sadistic shit-head God does exist,
Maybe he’ll be pissed off that I killed myself.

What’s this?
A pink and vermilion corridor of neon.
What’s that sound?
A Musak version of the fucking Monkees!!
I was expecting a celestial choir of angels all in white.
At the very least, Puccini.

Who’s that coming towards me?
Oh, no! It’s my Aunt Tilly!
I never could stand her.
Didn’t she die in the late 80s?
I run past her, ignoring the calling of my name.

I come to a toll-gate at a fork in the road.
A man in a blue uniform says,
“Hey, asshole. Tell us what you did on Earth, if you want to pass through.”

“Well, I didn’t just drink beer and watch football on TV.”

“There’s nothing wrong with football, you snivelling little faggot, “he says.
(Christ, homophobia is okay on the other side?
What kind of an After-Life is this?)

I list my accomplishments to him.
“Big deal!” he says. “How many awards did you win?
How much money did you make?
Were you the CEO of any company? Did you have a PhD?”

“Well, I did win Best Performance at a poetry event
And I won the door prize at my Grade 8 reunion.
I got a couple of Toronto Arts Council grants.”

“Big fucking hairy deal. Not good enough.
Hey, guys. Beat the crap out of this little shit.”
A bunch of thugs come bursting out of nowhere,
With lead pipes in their hands.
I blast away, like a rocket, into the void.
My heart bursts out of my chest.

The mist surrounds me, like London fog, as I run and run.
My bare feet pound the ground, with no end in sight.
The jackals snap at my ass in a world of perpetual night.
Maybe I made the wrong decision.

I sit in the mist for what seems like a thousand years.
I get up and tramp along.
The landscape changes to the Camino in northern Spain.
Beautiful trees, sunshine and light.
I walk and walk for days and days.

Marilyn Monroe appears out of nowhere.
“Philip Cairns. You’re my favourite actor of all time. “
Under her breath, I can hear her mutter,
“I say that to all the actors. It makes them feel good.”

“Philip, I’m telling you,
There’s nowhere to go. Nothing to do.
You’ll be walking down this path forever.
That’s your punishment.“

“Marilyn! I can’t believe it’s you. You’re my favourite. I love you.”

“Of course, you do, my dear. Of course, you do,” she says.
“What’s that fabulous refrain you wrote? It’s so beautiful.”

“I loved you in “The Misfits”. In everything you did.”

“Thanks, sugar,” she says. “Let’s sing that song.
We’ll be walking a long, long time.”

Come on, everybody, let’s take an overdose.
This Earth sucks the big one,
I think it’s pretty gross.
Pricks and wackos ‘round every bend.
It’s enough to drive you crazy
And go off the deep end.

We trudge into oblivion, together.
The swirling, glorious nothingness enflames and engulfs us.
Iridescent Gold and Silver shimmers and burns our souls.

Bestiality or Necrophilia?

So, I haven't read the books or seen the first movie but I decided to see New Moon. Mostly because a friend asked me and I made him sit through Cameron Diaz horrible movie The Box a few weeks ago.

Well, I now know I'm not missing anything by not getting on the Twilight bandwagon. New Moon was a steaming pile of cinematic crap. First I'll tell you about the good - the cinematography was pretty and the Taylor Launter is hot for a 17 year old...when not "acting".

The Bad - The acting was on par with a middle school production of the Wizard of Oz. Kristen Stewart spent the entire movie sulking, being moody and staring longingly out a rainy window. Robert Pattison is not nearly as attractive as the tabloids and my 12 year old cousin would have me believe. And then there's Taylor. Dear Taylor spends the first half of the movie in a ridiculous wig and is shirtless at any chance he gets all while unsuccessfully trying to act.

They really stretch out 15 mins worth of plot into over 2 hours. The story is basically it's the age old question "Bestiality or Necrophilia?"....I'm not spoiling anything by telling you she picks necrophilia.

Any thoughts?

THE END

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

THE END


By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

Wish I had a guillotine to chase away the blues.
Quick and painless.
No more dealing with vicious crazies.
I could dress up like Marie Antoinette,
Complete with a foot high mauve powdered wig.

Get a friend to videotape my dramatic exit.
No. Better do it myself.
Don’t want anyone to be charged as an accessory.

Oh, Goddess.
Help me out of this pus-filled snake pit.
Try to think of Paris,
The beautiful young men and La Tour Eiffel.

Climb out of this bricked-in tomb.
I thought painting would ease the pain.
Instead, I’m staring at my glaring, gaping limitations, all over again.

The glass isn’t half full.
It’s smashed on the floor in a pool of human sewage.
I drilled through the Koran.
Hung it from a lamp post by a rusty chain.

I’m climbing up the gallows stairs.
My head fits snugly in the cold slot.
The blade comes down and … splat!
Plop!
Nice and easy.
No rent to pay.
No credit card debt.
No difficult artists to deal with,
(Or am I the volatile one?)
But it’s all in my head, if you’ll pardon the pun.
Still crawling over broken glass in the desert of my life.

Snap out of it!
Dream of flying erections and pretty blonds with curly hair.
Cherubic faces gazing up at you when you first meet.
A long, wet sloppy kiss
With tongues and groping and rubbing,
Crotch to crotch.

Sometimes, it’s hard to fly.
It can be icy up there, all by yourself,
With no one to catch you when you fall.

The Naysayer is pushing me over the cliff.
I’m holding on with my bloody fingernails.
Try to think of the sensual sensation
Of bright acrylic paint oozing onto bumpy Arches paper.
Layer upon layer of gooey wet colours,
Like shaving foam being spread onto the chiselled jaw
Of a hot male fashion model.
Red Liquitex paint, ebbing and flowing against a bed of Iridescent Gold.

Sex isn’t everything but it’s better than nothing.
Give me Cathy Petch and her sexy poems and loopy musical saw.
That will put a smile on my face.
Lick my forbidden zones.
Put some cold hard cash in my bank account,
With rows and rows of zeroes.
Please don’t send me nasty emails
With embarrassing cc’s to my best friends.

I sent the guillotine back to Wal-Mart,
(Or should I just hide it in the closet?)
I ache all over.

Just give me something, anything, to ease the pain.
A bottle of Scotch.
A pen and notebook.
A pill.
A syringe full of heroin.
An intelligent beauty lying naked on my bed,
Waiting for me with open arms.
An uplifting message from the Great Beyond.
A miniature silver guillotine hanging on a chain around my swollen neck.

Close the door, please.
It’s cold.
Fuck you, asshole!

BLUE BEADS

December 8, 2009

BLUE BEADS

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

The blue beads tumbled to the floor.
The steaming corpse rolled over on the cool steel gurney.
Good friends will betray you, at the drop of a hat.
Pink plush curtains hang around,
Bored out of their skull.

The poetess talks about sex a lot.
Perhaps, like many attractive people,
She doesn’t really get enough.

I picked up the silver beads,
But they scurried, once again, to the parquet floor.
I must say, I’m really tired of it all.

Is death a pleasant place?
Are there rules and regulations?
Do they speak English, in the Afterlife?
Do they even speak at all?
Can you get an erection?
Do you have a body, as we know it?
I’ve heard you’re just a beam of light.
Don’t forget your sunglasses.

Is there coffee?
I hope you don’t have to audition, endlessly,
When you cross over to the other side.
Do you think there might be acres and acres of fresh amethyst,
Sparkling in the blinding light?
Do people criticize your poetry,
When you pass over?

I fell down into the hole.
Or was I pushed?
It’s not a pleasant place to be.
I’m sure you know that, already.

The feeling of smooth, satin, hairless skin,
On your fingertips,
Is glorious to the touch.
My tongue caresses the curve of your buttocks.
My hand strokes your face.
Jimmy Stewart sometimes bugs my ass.
I fell headfirst into the downward spiral.
She wanted cocaine burning up her nose
And a glass of hot Scotch chugging down her gullet.

The blue beads cascaded to the floor.
The perfect necklace came apart.
He wanted good health and warm weather,
And enough sex to satisfy his desires.

Is there music after death?
The blazing sound of a jazz saxophone?
Top 40 hits of the macabre,
With ghouls and ghosties and creepy-crawlies?

There probably is no copulation,
For there’s no need to propagate the species.
I’ll try to forgive some of the people who betrayed me.
After all, they’re fucking crazy.

What happened to all those beads?
Silver and blue, silver and blue.

No, the glass is half full.
Stop thinking of yourself as a victim.
It’s not very glamorous.
The crazies have always been drawn to me.

I’ll pick up the beads and continue.
Make a new necklace and brew some Caf-Lib coffee substitute.
Roll over, sweetheart, it’s time to play.
You know, I really am crazy about you.

Things I don't get this week...

There are things that I'm just not quite understanding right now, perhaps you'd like to help me to figure 'em out.

#1 - Why does the TTC feel the need for more staff?
They've announced that a 2 week project to get more people onto the subway at Yonge has been a success and will become permanent.  They cited more riders getting on. 

Didn't they just do a fare increase, where they stated that with every fare increase they lose customers?  Now they're using/wasting staff to stand there and direct traffic? 

A fare increase is being used to cover services they can't already afford and now they're introducing new (stupid) services. 

I don't get it

#2 - There's another bathroom, so use it.

I took the LSATs this weekend and at break, there was a mad dash for the bathrooms.  I got in first and was thankful.  I walked around a  bit and spotted bathrooms across the hall.  I went back and told a group of girls standing 10 deep in line and they just smile and nodded.

The break is only 15 minutes, there was 5 minutes left.  Why would you continue to stand in line and not go shit/piss elsewhere?  Why stick with what ain't working instead of trying something new?

I don't get it...again.

#3 - I already have a sense that Tiger Woods is going to get off (haha) for having a slew of whores.

I guess I can kinda get this.  Tiger Woods makes a lot of people a shit ton of money.  People are extremely invested in him.  In fact, I'd say that the entire golf industry is reliant upon Tiger continuing in the sport.

But where's the fucking Christian Right?  Like why will they spend way too much money on ads against a group of good loving folks wanting to get married and not launch a campaign against Tiger.

When nude pics are released, sexual voice mails, etc, they ain't doing anything and yet Lambert humps a guy's face and they send in 1500 complaints!!!

Plus, I just don't get Tiger Woods.  Kid has everything going for him, so why not just divorce your wife and be a big ol' whore???  Hook up with Lindsay Lohan, destroy your fortune, etc.  Or better yet, be smarter about what you're doing.  Don't send texts, leave voicemails and don't send cock pics on your cell.

I seriously don't get it.

Gayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

I have had a really gay week.
Between Adam Lambert, the NY State Senate's rejection of gay marriage, Sky Gilbert's article in the Globe and DV8's To Be Straight With You, I have had the chance to explore various different view points and examples of...gayness.

And so.
Let me begin with...
I don't like Adam Lambert.
His only performance I ever enjoyed was from when he was on American Idol, his rendition of "Ring of Fire" by that country dude. And then he had that KD Lang impersonation and I was over him.

I find him to be over the top in a really annoying way. His CD cover made me want to vomit unicorns, and I don't care if it's a throwback to the "glam" age of whatever: it looks ridiculous. And yes, the world loves photoshop, but did you really need to throw yourself in a vat of photoshop, swim around with your face down for five hours and then have your ex beat you with a photoshop stick until you had the perfect 7-year old chin?

Ranting aside, I did however, like what he did at the AMA's. I really respected how he defended his actions after it all...that is, until he admitted that perhaps he did go "a little too far" on Ellen.

Good job, homo. It's one thing to be make a valid statement about the double-standards of conservative dumb asses, but it's a totally other thing to backtrack and admit defeat. I'm slightly disappointed, because Mr. Adam Lambert wouldn't have lost much at all once everything died down--so why is he acting like he suddenly did something wrong?

Now for something right:



I'm upset that it got turned down. But hey--at least we now have a few more awesome allies in the States. Another day, another chance to make history.

And now, onto Mr. Sky Gilbert.

I admire his work. I admire what he's done for the Toronto gay community. But for him to make this huge kerfuffle about how gays are no more, sort of irritates me. If you really do think this, shouldn't your job, as a gay activist and artist, be to educate and challenge the complacency of Queers who believe that "homophobia is no more so we can now all be like them breeders?"

Though, perhaps I'm looking at this all wrong. Maybe his article was written to incite a response from the gay youth of today. Maybe he's trying to get us to fight, instead of sitting idly by while Church street struggles and gays are still getting beat up and killed all over the world. Maybe Mr. Gilbert knows exactly what he's doing. Maybe.

And this of course leads me to my last subject: DV8's "To Be Straight With You."

This is one eye opener of a show. Using sound-bytes from interviews that DV8 Artistic Director Lloyd Newson had with various Middle-Eastern and South-Asian individuals, he has constructed a show that uses dance to convey and embody the struggles of these interviewees. Primarily, this show deals with homosexuality and certain eastern religions, as well as Dancehall music (featuring artists such as Buju Banton, who loves to talk about setting gays on fire in his music) and the need to...dance.

These performers are spectacular. Their precision and trust in one another and with their amazing set is just... amazing to watch. I am constantly becoming more aware than ever about the powers of live theatre and its ability to change the world and make you feel so much in such a short amount of time.

Go see it.
It's only on for two more days.

Do you like to self medicate?

No? Because I do.

At the first sign of a cough, a sneeze, a hot head, achy bones, an untimely erection or a slight dizzy spell, I head strait to Shoppers Drug Mart. Why? Because I'm a consumer. I love Shoppers. It's like the Wal-Mart for really, really, vain people. I can walk in and walk out with $100 worth of crap I don't really need, but I will use it all and pretend like it does what it's supposed to do.

Most recently though, I realized that I was starting to get a runny nose. Than I got an itch in my throat, and not from a bunch of spermies that may have gotten stuck after my mid-afternoon snack, but rather it was the tickle of an oncoming bacterial infection, designed to stop any and all cock-sucking habits (because let's face it, since NPH and I, Kaila W. Montanna, split, its all I can do to stop from popping fourteen Valium's and saying goodbye to this God forsaken world). And so with a sick sort of excitement, I went to Shoppers, stocked up on COLD-fX, Neo-Citron, Ricola lozenges and Robitussin! (Also known as my Winter Party Mix)

Tomorrow, I will go out to school prepared to battle the bacteria in my body. I will be amped with a super-immune system, reinforced by a questionable new pill, several Halls-Vitmain C tablets and lots and lots of orange juice!

So, what do you guys do at the first sign of a cold, or a flu, or a nympho episode?

One Year of Let's Be Vain...

I never thought that I'd spend a year consistently working on a project, but we're celebrating one year of Let's Be Vain today.

Shortly before this passed December 1st, I had the idea that I wanted to write more.  But without self judgment.  I believe the greatest barrier for a writer is our own self criticism.  Write a page, review it, cross off half of it, review it, crumple it up and toss.  Or the computer version of sending it to your recycle bin and then emptying it.

The blog's purpose was a forum where individuals could write anything and everything.  Punctuation, grammar, etc. didn't matter.  What mattered was that they were writing.  If you write, you are a writer.  Simply as that.

Plus, our namesake ensures that people come expecting the lowest of the low.  If we beat that expectation, then it's our victory.  "Reaching new lows every day" is our tagline, but I don't believe it speaks to the quality of the writing.

The blog has had about 10 different contributors at various points.  Some have signed on and never contributed.  Some have quickly submitted one post and then faded away.  Some have consistently posted and others more infrequently.

When the blog first started, I think I went about 53 days consistently posting.  It was a struggle and admittedly, I'd write 4-5 in a creative burst and then post them on different days.  Out of about 280 posts in this last year, I have contributed 183 of them.

This blog has grown from 6 people viewing it on opening day to 354 at our highest point.  I've discovered that if you talk about Britney, Anderson Cooper, or anything porn related...it drives the traffic in.

This blog has been assisted by traffic sent from facebook, twitter, reddit, best gay blogs and through randomly searching keywords via google.

It has been a great year personally, creatively, and professionally for a jay stewart project.  We have branched into new areas successfully and continue to strive to open spaces for ALL individuals to express themselves creatively. If you'd like to join, all it takes is a quick contact.  These days, everyone is reachable.  Please take advantage of this fact.

Here are 5 of my random posts over this last year that gives you an idea that I like to write about everything...

Let's get into the X-mas spirit, with a Let's Be Vain rant.

 http://lets-be-vain.blogspot.com/2008/12/stop-lying-to-my-nephew-x-mas-is-for.html


By far, one of my fav. series on this blog was "Unrealistic Land."  Each week, I'd paint a picture of where my life would never go, but dreamt that it would.
http://lets-be-vain.blogspot.com/2009/01/unrealistic-land-wishes-for-2009.html-

There's quite a few postings about my stupidity on this site...this one has my favourite title.
http://lets-be-vain.blogspot.com/2009/01/maybe-im-stupid-spoiled-whore.html

Social commentary is always fun, this post is even more relevant today.  Chris Brown is making headlines for appearing on GMA on ABC, while they cancelled Adam Lambert.  It's okay to beat up girls, but not to simulate oral sex with another man.
http://lets-be-vain.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-cool-to-buy-illegal-guns-but-wrong.html

It's rare, but there are times, when I get serious.  This is by far my most honest piece.
http://lets-be-vain.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-trio-of-mentors.html

Thanks for being a part of Let's Be Vain's first year, it'll continue to be around for many more. :)