I went out for my (second) cousin's birthday last night. His sister and their mutual friends got him a selection of gifts from one of the local adult shoppes. These included erotic dice, erotic lottery tickets (scratch-and-win variety, where "the big prize is YOU!") and this erotic novella, The Unwilling Stewardess, featuring a picture on the cover of a man encouraging the (presumably) stewardess in question to, well, let's just say she doesn't seem too willing.

What was kind of interesting about this book is that it claims to be some sort of "classic", and has been reprinted any number of times, the most recent copyright being held from 1994 (it was previously published under the more telling title Raped Stewardess). I can only assume that such a story appeals to enough people to make it popular in the abscence of the usual methods of advertisement, such as print media, any kind of commercials, availability in regular bookstores, or even word of mouth (what, like you're going to tell people you thought this was a great book in your bookclub?).

I took my car in today to have the winter tires put on (yes, that's right, you can have a whole extra set of tires for winter), and killed time by wandering around the mall. After grabbing some (much needed?) shaving and washing products, I started looking in clothes stores.

I ended up buying a sweater and some pants, but the weird thing I noticed while trying them on was that the change rooms had those ashtrays where you can flip them up so the ashes dump into a cup underneath. They were set into the little bench (which also had a cushiony seat) in the change room. I can't even understand why you would let people smoke around your clothes that they don't own yet, because that makes for all kinds of accidents waiting to happen. And how do you have so much time that you would even want to or need to smoke in there? Fascinating. Of course, the ashtrays are no longer employed for thier intended use, and now just hold disposed clothing tags.

So I went to see Jackass: The Movie with some friends tonight. It is all the wise-cracking, crotch-punching, anal-lubing mayhem you might expect from Johnny Knoxville and his gang. Following in the tv-to-movie footsteps of shows like South Park, this is basically a longer, less censored Jackass episode. I won't ruin any of the "good parts" for you, but I will say don't go in on too full a stomach; the camera is pretty jerky and you might see some things that make you a little queasy.

To round out my evening of mature-yet-juvenile content, I also checked out the new Grand Theft Auto: Vice City game for PS2. It has all the charm of the previous version with all sorts of cool 80s music and looks. It's a nice switch to do the big stunt jumps to Flock of Seagulls.

I co-manage an indoor soccer team here in Saskatoon. There is a big facility with four indoor pitches and a city league.

Indoor soccer is an odd game. It combines all the ball-kicking and ruthlessness of soccer with all the board-ramming and ruthlessness of hockey. The pitch is not quite as big as a hockey rink, but has boards in that fashion. The boards are useful for passing off of, getting ridiculous rebounds (the goal is set into the wall), and smashing people into. As in hockey, the game is played 5 on 5, with substitutions on the fly, and a penalty box. The ball is only called "out" if it hits the (high) ceiling or lands in one of the benches, which makes for a much quicker game with fewer stops.

If you would like to see how we are doing (our record is 1-1 after last night's loss), you can check here and look for Sybian Athletico in Men's Division 4. I would post the link to the team web site, but the site has grown into somewhat of a monstrosity that is way more offensive than anticipated. Among this log's audience of which I am aware, I imagine it would probably only appeal to Urbanski.

As most of you reading this will know, it was time to "fall back" last night. But what you may not know is that Saskatchewan is one of those few places in North America where Daylight Savings is not used. I believe the reason has something to do with farmers, who form the main opposition to the time change (and to most things around here).

So if you live West of me, it is now even an hour later here when you call. And if you live East, it is now an hour earlier when you call. Not that any of you call . . .

I realize updates have been getting more sporadic. I've been a bit busy lately, partly due to my upcoming litigation, which I'd rather not carry on about right now (don't worry; I will post any Matloack-style courtroom debate). I've also had a bit of a cold this past week, which left me in no mood to brag about or make fun of anything. You could also blame it on a general log malaise that seems to be affecting all of the antiflux crew.

Anyway, welcome back, dear reader. I'll try to post more, and try to keep yous guys updated on my trip to the US (have I not mentioned it yet? Keep your eye on this space, then).

via fortune -o:

"I have a box of telephone rings under my bed. Whenever I get lonely, I open it up a little bit, and I get a phone call. One day I dropped the box all over the floor. The phone wouldn't stop ringing. I had to get it disconnected. So I got a new phone. I didn't have much money, so I had to get an irregular. It doesn't have a five. I ran into a friend of mine on the street the other day. He said why don't you give me a call. I told him I can't call everybody I want to anymore, my phone doesn't have a five. He asked how long had it been that way. I said I didn't know -- my calendar doesn't have any sevens."

-- Steven Wright

Bad news from SGI today. Our friend Randy refuses to acknowledge that he (driving his car) was at the scene of his accident with me. Since his car is now totalled, there is no way to match up the damage with my car. SGI now says they can't do anything about it, and I have to take him to small claims court.

I spent the rest of the day driving around collecting information for my case. While I have nothing strictly physical, I have a lot of compelling information in terms of when I phoned police, ICBC, and SGI. I haven't sued anybody before, but I intend to do it properly.

The ironic thing for Randy is that, if he loses, he will have to pay the whole $1400 to repair my car, whereas if he had come clean but refused to admit he was drunk, he probably could have gotten away just paying his $700 deductable for the accident and letting insurance cover the rest. But we already know Randy isn't all that clever.

I now attract drunk drivers, apparently. I was in a friend's car tonight, in a parking lot after the mediocre movie Knockaround Guys, and this kid whipped around a corner and caught us on the front corner of the car. Not super damaged, but the whole thing will end up, as usual, as a real hassle. And again, the dumbfuck in the other car is drunk. We even talked to a couple bouncers at the bar nearby (we needed a pen) and they said he had been in there for quite a while.

As for my own car, I am currently dealing with SGI (Saskatchewan Government Insurance). The winner who hit me claims that he was nowhere near the intersectino where I was hit. The only reason he is still talking to them is because he plowed into a parked semi about 40 minutes after he hit me, and his car is no longer drivable. I'm not really sure what he thinks he can get away with . . . the insurance adjuster is clearly not a fan of his. He didn't even pay to have his car released from the towing place so they could match his (now even more mangled) car up to mine at the claims centre. A real gem, this one. My theory is that SGI is now trying to release any kind of responsibility they have on account of him being drunk, which means that I will have to get them to talk to ICBC (Insurance Corporation of British Columbia, who insures my car) to explain that it wasn't my fault. I can't imagine that any of this will happen quickly, which is a little disconcerting as I was hoping to take my car to Calgary as the first stage of my upcoming trip to San Diego, and while I'm 95% sure the $1300 damage will be fully paid for, I'm not sure when that will happen.

And while I'm at it, in case any of you are driving around Saskatoon, watch out for Randy McMurtry, currently known to you as "the guy who hit me". I initially thought SGI had his name when I first called because he had owned up to what he did, but no, it was the people from the second accident who had called. Instead, he has chosen to deny everything and refused to take responsibility. Anyway, Randy McMurtry is his name, and he can fuck right off.

I can only wish my buddy better luck with what happened tonight.

And now, thoughts on the Tool show. So good. Even the neophytes we dragged along (Tim and Bryce) were impressed.

I had heard a rumour from a friend of mine in the US that Meshuggah, the opener, was some sort of Swedish death metal band. And hey, what so you know, they were. Really not my thing. Tim and I went to grab a beer and checked out the crowd while we waited for their set to be over. It's kind of an ignorant thing to say, but their music all sounded kind of the same to me. I felt a bit vindicated taking this position when Tim met up with one of his friends, a fan of the death metal scene, who said very much the same thing. Perhaps my taste can wander a bit beyond my usual genres . . .

Tool opened with Sober, much to the delight of those who had seen them before and were hoping for something from Undertow at the Vancouver show. From the opening straight through until the end, I basically just stared and listened and tried to be as alert as possible. The animation was again pretty fancy and really added to the whole experience. It was nice that they didn't show exactly the same thing, either. And as Tim mentioned, they did not feature the live-action tentacle porn quite as much this time around, which if you ask me was a good call.

The setup for the stage was pretty similar to the Vancouver show. Danny Carey (still a total freak - so cool to watch) had his own stage for his extensive drum kit plus gong, and Maynard had his little Maynard stage again, this time with its own turntable action. Painted all black and dancing around a lot, he was much more active this time.

Enema was the real highlight for me. There was this really cool rain effect over the pit crowd down in front acheived by sparkly bits and clever lighting. Relevant and effective. And the performance was amazing.

Overall, I think I preferred this show to the last one I saw. I think the flow was a little better in terms of the (sometimes kind of long) breaks during the performance, and I don't think much was lost in dropping the wacky Schism acrobats for whatever reason.

It's now a bit after the fact, but I figure I should write something for all my fans about the weekend in Edmonton.

I travelled with three friends from Saskatoon, and we met up with more later on in the weekend. The trip was in part a reenactment of Adam's bachelor party a year ago, though with fewer strippers.

Friday night: Arrival. Check in to the reasonably priced and located Econo Lodge downtown. Some wandering downtown suggests that it is not the most exiciting place to be on a Friday night, unless maybe you are looking for drugs or to get jumped. We hear Whyte Ave is the place to be.

Saturday afternoon: West Edmonton Mall. I think Tim (either one) probably thinks we are goofy tourist hicks for it, but the Mall is a staple destination people visiting from Saskatchewan. Much shopping took place, and I picked up some fancy silver shoes for indoor soccer (did I mention I'm organizing a team? Well, I'll tell you about it another time).

Saturday night: Iron Horse. This is a bar located on famous Whyte Ave that is a converted train station. I'm a fan of the atmosphere and music. Our group from Saskatchewan, now six strong with a late arrival to the city and a mathematician ex-pat now studying in Edmonton, proceeded upon arrival to get quite drunk and mix with the locals. I might link to the pictures which feature such antics as a girl with a cell phone in her cleavage, Brian flirting with girls using Adam's wedding ring, and me in a yellow plastic lei which I do not remember receiving or wearing (and also escaped me). As you might expect from a fun night at the bar, we procured a mullet wig on the way out, which I wore on the cab ride home.

Sunday night: Tool. Which I will detail a bit in the next post.

Monday: A sleepy return to Saskatoon.

All in all, a great trip. I'll have to make it to Edmonton more often.

Today I leave with my cohorts for the Tool weekend extravaganza in Edmonton. It's a 5-hour drive from Saskatoon taking the lovely Yellowhead highway. Sights along the route include the Red Bull gas station, North Battleford, and Lloydminister, the wacky town that has two time zones because it straddles the Alberta-Saskatchewan border. There isn't much to see in Alberta now that there is a bypass around Vegreville (home to the world's biggest Pysanka!), but Edmonton should be fun enough.

Pysanka!

I'm having trouble thinking of things to write at the moment, but until I figure something out, let me recommend the film Supertroopers, which I think a lot of people missed back when it came out. It is the creation of a comedy troupe named Broken Lizard, sort of like Brain Candy from an American Kids In The Hall group. The movie is quite excellent meow.

If I am just way behind on this and you have all seen it, then feel free to chastize me in the comments.