Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Pezi Detective Continues at New Address

Hey all,

I've moved. I'm over here now.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Stealing Evergreens from Chocolate Lofts

A couple of weeks ago I went to a party at the famed Chocolate Lofts on Queen West. A friend and co-worker of Sarah's was having a birthday celebration of epic proportions. I can't imagine actually having a party like this for myself, but I'm sure glad that Salome did. There was a doorman who took your coat and then jumped behind the bar and made you drinks, and the charming owner of Oyster Boy/The Swan came out with a giant box of mixed oysters that Sarah and I gorged ourselves on. I loooove oysters.

One of the side-effects of having a party with a great bartender and a free bar is that everyone in attendance ends up drinking more than they probably should on a school night. Thus, when we finally made our way outside at some time in the wee hours of the morning, we were intoxicated enough that it seemed like a good idea to steal the tree in the planter that was outside the fourth-floor elevator. We were pretty durned proud of ourselves once we successfully snuck out the back door to escape the watchful eye of the night security guard, potted tree in tow, giggling madly and feeling like we'd gotten away with the crime of the century. Even the cab driver on the way home appreciated our efforts enough to not get angry with us for filling his taxi with pine needles.

I realize now that this should have been our first warning that all was not as it seemed. After all, how many people keep potted evergreens in their hallways? And of those who actually do, how many of these trees are dry to the point of shedding all their needles at a moment's notice? But at the time, we were too drunk on the heady satisfaction of committing such a conspiratorial caper to take notice of such details.

Flash forward two weeks to a conversation between Sarah and Salome at work. Sarah is overcome with guilt and decides to confess our crime. Salome, much to Sarah's relief, is not upset. And why should she be? As it turns out, the tree that we stole from outside the elevator on her floor is the Christmas tree that Salome herself had in her apartment over the entire holiday season and that she was too lazy to take out to the garbage, so she dumped it in the hall.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that our prize from that night, the lovely potted pine that Isil* (pictured above) proudly took home and, for all I know, is still displaying on her mantle, the subject of our well-executed, spy-like Mission Impossible to get it out of the building, was...garbage.

That's right. We snuck Salome's garbage out the back door of her fancy loft and took it home as treasure.

* This is the closest to spelling her name that I can get without using strange Turkish symbols. I was also going to include her last name to clarify things, but apparently the closest that we can get to spelling it on a QWERTY keyboard is "Degirmencioglu" and that really doesn't clarify anything.

Friday, March 10, 2006

I want a parrot!

I love this bird. I want one of my own that I can teach crazy words and sound effects to. Then I can freak out the Jehovah's Witnesses when they come around.

Note: Jehovah's Witnesses never come around anymore. Is it something I said?


Between this and the boobie post earlier this week, I'm going to earn myself a bad reputation here. Oh well. This is the sort of amazing find that is worth a bad reputation.

Frankly, what with the world being as freaky-deaky as it is, I'd be surprised if this was a new idea, but leave it up to those crazy Germans to take a zany idea like this waaaaay too literally.*

That's right - a group of brilliant German olfactory engineers are marketing a product that literally and intentionally smells like vagina, aptly named Vulva.

I'm not making this up. If you're not at work (or if you have a very understanding boss) you can take a look for yourself, right here (NSFW).

Highlights of this amazing site:
  • Right off the bat, we get a flash intro with a stylized vagina shooting towards the camera
  • Next up is the standard warning of explicit material that asks persons under the age of 18 (and persons who do not "enjoy juicy erotic") to leave the site. Note that they seem to have decided that the child-safe header image for this warning page should be an artistically-lit picture of a woman's lower belly and pubic hair.
  • The header text that follows you through the site claims that Vulva is an "Authentically Natural Vaginal Flavour" - I can't bring myself to delve into the implications of this statement
  • Press photos in a flash presentation on the site seem to be demonstrating the authenticity of said vaginal flavour by showing a random male audience member smelling a nude model's vagina, close-up, then giving the camera an enthusiastic thumbs-up
  • Horrifyingly, the site's FAQ promises a male version of this perfume in the near future

* For any Germans who take offense to this statement, how do you explain the popularity of this man:

Monday, March 06, 2006

I think we used to be in a band together, or something.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

First outdoor entry of 2006


I know that it's fleeting, since it is only early March, but I would just like to point out that I have been sitting on a picnic bench outside the Linux Caffe (sic) for the last hour, drinking coffee and working on my laptop. That's how nice it is here today.

Take that, Vancouver.


Friday, March 03, 2006

Shock Absorber Bounceometer

I'm sorry, I saw this over on Chris DiClerico's blog and I couldn't resist trying it out. And now I can't possibly resist letting you try it yourself.

Warning, don't click on this link if you're in a place where you would get in trouble for having cartoon naked breasts bouncing around on your screen.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Giant Banana

Sometimes I like to give my posts clever names. Other times, a post called Giant Banana is exactly what you would think - a post about the biggest banana that I've ever seen in my life. This post fits into the latter category.

We spent so much time this morning trying to capture on film an accurate depiction of just how big this banana was that Sarah actually ended up being late for work. Hopefully our efforts will not have been in vain.

First we tried a picture of the banana beside a wine bottle. If the peel looks a bit funny, that's because the banana has already been peeled and rewrapped at this point.

Another wine-bottle comparison shot, this one from a lower angle to emphasize the greatness of this gargantuan fruit.

Next, a couple of shots of the banana dwarfing the bowl of cereal that it was originally intended only to garnish.

The banana is cut, allowing us a view of the rare DCP (Dual-Core Phenomenon) contributing to the abnormal size of this amazing specimen.

And finally, the banana is separated into its two halves, each the size of a normal banana.

Behold in all its glory, the Giant Banana!


Rollerskating is a lot harder than I'd remembered. I remember hot-dogging it around a rink when I was 12 or 13 to the pumping sounds of Push it by Salt 'n' Pepa, doing my best to impress the older girls at the rink. What I don't remember is that rollerskating is, apparently, quite difficult.

Rajo rassled up the peeps for a trip out to the burbs on Sunday night. He picked that particular time of week because that was the time allotted to the weekly "Adult Skate" where only those old enough to imbibe alcohol legally are allowed inside. Why this is the exact cut-off, I can't say - it's certainly not because you can get beer during that time, lemme tell ya. I couldn't even get a bottle of iced tea - they poured it into a plastic cup, kindergarten-styles.

Anyway, we had naively assumed that the adult skate would be a good time for amateurs like us to come out and enjoy a relaxed night of bumbling around the rink. Not so. It turns out that adults take their Sunday night skate very seriously. These people were pros! The five of us were, I think, the only ones who weren't regulars at the rink, and the mad skillz of some of the older skaters left us absolutely bewildered and intimidated.

I should also point out that none of the ladies who came with us had big enough hair to fit in with the regulars. Remember that touching (yet troubling) love scene in the roller-rink from Monster? Yeah, that's pretty much how this place looked to us. I think that the clothes on our backs were the only things in the building that hadn't been around since at least 1990 - and that includes the nacho cheese sauce at the snack bar, and the vile pitcher of vile Fosters that we had at a vile Mississauga "pub" after we'd had enough skating action.

Next time, we're totally hitting the Family Skate. Maybe that will be more my speed. That way, when I'm showed-up by a hot-dogging 12- or 13-year-old, I'll be able to put him in his place without getting knifed.

Oh, and it was so dark in the rink that this is the only picture that I took that turned out.

Not much of an action shot, but at least Rajo is wearing skates in the picture.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006


"Blendie is an interactive, sensitive, intelligent, voice controlled blender with a mind of its own. Materials are a 1950’s Osterizer blender altered with custom made hardware and software for sound analysis and motor control."

Link from boingboing.

Influenza Season

I can't believe how tense this fast and loud game makes me, while still somehow remaining in the territory of "fun."

Does that make me sound old? Anyway, let's see if you can beat 20748.