Sharkboy

I have often in the past made fun of “would-be” film critics that describe a film as “haunting”. I mean, I’ve been moved by movies before, I’ve cried, a lot, at the movies, I’ve laughed, I’ve been scared, I’ve gasped, I’ve screamed, I turned away in disgust, but I don’t thing I’ve ever had to described a movie as haunting before watching INCENDIES.

We saw the movie last Friday night and it’s still very much on my mind 4 days later. It is nominated for an Oscar in the Best Foreign Language Film category and I honestly hope it wins. There is no other way to tell this amazing story than the way Denis Villeneuve, the director, did. It would just ruin the ending. The two main characters need to go through all these discoveries, in the orders they find them, to be able to accept the final surprise.

If anything, this makes you think that you don’t really totally know anyone as well as you think you do. Everyone has secrets. Everyone is ashamed of something they did. Everyone has good reason to not reveal everything about themselves.

Just like his other film before this one, POLYTECHNIQUE, this director forces us to witness unbearable acts of horror, and in INCENDIES, without realizing it, I raised a hand to my heart in one particularly difficult scene.

This film is slow at first but then gets really intense and the director’s expert touch can be felt all along. His actors seem very comfortable with him, they all give amazing performances.

We didn’t know anything about this movie before we saw it, all I knew was what I had seen from the following preview and it didn’t prepare me for the intensity of this film’s experience.

See it. Believe this proud Quebequer.

INCENDIES

Also from same director:
POLYTECHNIQUE

At the end of December, DeadRobot rejoined the gym, he wanted to lose weight and feel better. I think the upcoming vacation was a huge boost for us to get back into shape.

Me on the other hand, as much as I want to keep in shape, I can’t stand carrying this heavy bag with me to the gym in the morning, carrying it to work, making sure it doesn’t stink up the place, carrying it home, remembering to set out the towel to dry, blargh blargh blargh… I tried the handle gym bag, the back-pack gym bag, I looked into renting a towel every day but too cheap to pay the $2 they charge for that service. We looked at getting a permanent locker, but that brought the gym fees to $165 / month. If I’m too cheap to pay $2 per visit for a towel, I think you’ve already guessed that I won’t pay that much for my monthly membership either. Going to the gym after work is not an option. I have tried it and regardless if I went right after work or later on in the evening, it was fucking mental and all equipment taken and you just end up waiting around in frustration. Mornings have always been much better for us anyway and we don’t mind getting up at 5:15am to get ready to go.

So DR set it up solo this time and is doing his own thing. I’m proud of him as he’s showing nice improvement quickly. On the other hand, I’ve made up my mind that I had everything here at home to keep in shape… well, I have a floor.

I’ve decided to do as many push-ups and sit-ups that I can every morning before work, I excluded the weekends. So on January 4th, I designed this quick Excel chart to keep score of my progress. I started with 12 push-ups and 15 sit-ups and I weighed 207 lbs. It was my barometer, everything after that would be improved in numbers for the exercises and decrease for weight. It was my promise to myself. I’ve been very diligent about the whole thing and have done it every Monday to Friday first thing in the morning.

Today, January 31st, I have done 67 push-ups and 165 sit-ups. That’s a lot more than I could do at the beginning of the month for sure. I took comfort daily in the fact that I could do more than the day before and it kept me going. This month I have done 734 push-ups and 1545 sit-ups. My original goal was to be able to do 200 of each daily before vacation start… I think I’ll do it with the sit-ups but I think 100 push-ups might be my limit.

As for the weight loss, it’s not going as well, in one month I have only lost 3.8 lbs as I seem to just eat what I want when I want, I’m not being as careful as DR who is showing a much greater weight loss. For the last 2 weeks, I’ve been constantly hovering around the 203.0 to 203.5 lbs, at least it’s constant…

I have one more month before vacation and I’ll keep recording my efforts, maybe I will be at 195 lbs by then.

A camera, a chair, nice bright sunlight through the blinds, a box of Disney princes: GO!

via my coworker Scott

&

3:15 am
I woke up when BillyDeeWilliams jumped on the bed and walked all the way onto DR’s shoulder, all the while purring really loudly and clawing at the furry blanket we have. I raised my head and took note of the time. I was lying on my right side, with my right arm around GeorgeHamilton who was curled up with his head resting in my opened hand. DR was spooning me. I was filled with happiness with all the men in my life close and around me.

4:17 am
I woke up when BillyDeeWilliams, by his litter box, puked his guts out.

4:29 am
I woke up when BillyDeeWilliams was crunching on his dry cat food nuggets. All was good again.

I’m about to scream!

You are warned.

WHEN ARE THOSE FUCKING UGLY UGGS BOOTS EVER GOING TO GO AWAY FOR GOOD!!!

I can’t say just how much I hate those feet cover that the mass seems to have embraced. The are worn with just about anything from pyjamas to dress pants to mini skirts to dresses… Whatever colour they come in, they are the opposite of awesome and they lose their shape and people walk with their heels on the back of the boots like it’s normal… IT’S NOT NORMAL… YOU ARE WALKING ON A PIECE OF BOOT THAT IS SUPPOSED TO COVER YOUR CALF MUSCLE!!!

And don’t get me started with the tarts who wear them in the middle of Summer…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I hate Uggs boots.

Oh, and here’s a picture of a dead bird I saw today:

I don’t know if we can blame the cold, the weather or fucking-idiotic-idiots, but in the last few days I’ve had some crazy-ass-shit encounters on the city’s sidewalks.

On Saturday, while returning from shopping, DR and I heard this scraggly loud voice coming at us, when we looked, we saw this man walking in our direction, screaming his head off, arms flailing on all side. As he came closer and closer, I noticed the lit cigarette he was holding that was going on like a cheap and small firework display. When he reached us, he looked me straight in the eyes, pointing the cigarette at me like a weapon, and screamed at the top of his lungs, eyes bulging out of his head: “YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZYYYYYYYY. YOU’RE FUCKIIIIIIIIIIIG CRACYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”. And I couldn’t help it, I just immediately stepped out of his way, my left hand reaching from my throat in protection, I really thought he was going to punch his cigarette at me… I don’t get scared that easily, but he totally got my blood flowing fast… And just like that, he was gone, screaming more obscenities at the unlucky bastards behind us.

Yesterday, with the frigid subzero temperature we endured, we decided that brunch in a restaurant was a must, so with warm boots and fur hats on, we took off. After finding out that The Church St Diner had at least a 15 minutes wait, which isn’t that long I know, but their extremely small waiting area already had 4 people in, meaning we’d have had to basically wait outside. Before we even had a chance to let them know if we were staying or leaving, the hostess with the leastest shut the door on us, so we moved on. We walked on Dondonald St and when we reached the area just before Yonge St, we almost took a spill on the icy sidewalk. When I say icy sidewalk, I mean a 2 inch thick layer of frozen water with an equally thick amount of de-icing salt making it like a big soup of ice cube and slush without the cool fruity flavour… I’d have punched everyone in sight if I would have fallen on that spot… This was one of those areas where it was safer to walk on the street amongst the traffic then to try to balance yourself on the path of death. We made our way to Coach House and I had a scrumptious Club Sandwich. My palpitations came down a couple of notches quickly… MMMmmmm. Club Sandwich.

Today, on my way back to the office after lunch, I was walking to the right, almost touching the building’s wall, all the while doing my best imitation of a Torontonian pedestrian: ignoring all fucktards around me. Still, I saw these 3 “sexctratries”, you know the type short skirts, high heels, tight tops, brain dead, coming at me, all walking side by side, 2 of them arms intertwined. I’m not sure if they expected me to climb the wall but I really had nowhere to go, so I braced myself and let the one facing me bump hard onto my shoulder. I didn’t say a word and continued walking but within 2 steps, I heard this shrill of a voice. Without stopping, I looked behind me and she had finally let go of her friend and had her arms up in the air, calling me an asshole. All I could reply was: “I’m sure your mom must have told you to always look where you’re going!”. I honestly don’t know why she thought I was in the wrong, but all she could say was fucking asshole this, and fucking asshole that. Yeah… apparently, I’m an asshole.

Today was the funeral procession for one of Toronto’s Police officers killed in the line of duty 6 days ago: Sgt. Ryan Russell.

Today, a person most of us had never heard of before, was treated as the hero he was, not because of the way he died, but because of what he did for this city while we all went on about our own business.

Today, his name was engraved in our memory forever.

Today was a very impressive sight when 14,000 officers in uniforms lined up one of Toronto’s famous boulevard to march in unison paying their respect to a fallen brother.

Today I was utterly amazed to see this many people in complete silence. All that could be heard was the tapping of feet and the brushing of sleeves on officer’s jackets mixed with the occasional call of: “Left. Left. Left, Right, Left.” to guide all the troops to the same pace.

Today I was moved by a community coming together at once, forgetting all politics and race and gender and life’s daily trouble in a big city.

You can see my other pictures in their larger size through this Flickr link.

Of course, there had to be that one moron, that one imbecile who thinks anytime is good for a “joke”. I hope I set him straight but certainly on his way when he exclaimed while looking at the sea of officers before us: “Pffft… who’s doing their jobs today! Hehe!”. Without batting an eye, I turned to him and said loudly enough: “I think today, they’re expecting people to take a vacation from being assholes.”

Bell Canada loves to get in contact with me regularly on the phone, and I swear, I don’t invite the calls. In fact I’m usually quite rude and remind them we’re on the No Call List. I am a past customer and will most likely never return to them, unless I move in a area where I have no choice. It’s that simple and I have told them numerous time.

Recently they have started sending me direct-mail pieces instead. Last one I receive was returned to them saying I had moved out.

Today I received a new direct mail piece to my address but with a new name as a “tennant”. Let’s see if my return to sender works better this time: