Oscars fail to be engaging as usual, I stop caring

Last night was the first time the attendees of the 2010 Academy Awards looked particularly bored as the ceremony runs approximately half an hour past its scheduled end. Last night was also the first time I didn't watch a single second of the awards (while on syndication, at least - my impression of the ceremony results from watching YouTube clips for the brief fifteen minutes they remain on the site before being deleted for copyright infringement).

Once again, the Academy plays it safe and rewards everyone we knew would be rewarded, and the Iraq War is deemed culturally more important than nature-loving blue aliens. Cristoph Waltz, the only winner who hasn't yet been chewed up and spit out by the Hollywood robot machine (everyone looks stiffer and blander every year) is also the only person to appear genuinely thrilled, humbled, and does not prompt me to throw a shoe at my television (Sandra Bullock winning an Oscar for playing a rich hick housewife in a predictable, schmaltzy, and possibly borderline-racist family film, however, does). 

Jeff Bridges also addresses the director of Crazy Heart as "man" and giggles during his acceptance speech, reminding me why The Big Lebowski is the greatest movie of all time.

Shabamzy - Sneaky Dees Ruckus Rating

The Ruckus Rating

by Shabamzy

Place: Sneaky Dees

Address: 431 College Street

Toronto, ON M5T 1T1

(416) 603-3090

College st / Bathurst st.

They call it Sneaky Dees, Stinky Dees, Deaky Sneeze, Sneaks and The Tits. They serve up Tex-mex platers that weigh in like a new born baby who needed a C-section; Masseeeve to the French. The staff, those cheerful lot of indoor panhandlers will hate you on purpose, giving you the opportunity to hate them back with equal abandon and feel good about yourself while you do it. It's the most comfortable feeling being in the company of disregard. The staff pay so little care to your needs that it allows you to relax and not have to worry about being polite or tipping anything more than the tiny top strip of a durex condom wrapper you have left from that evenings hide and seek in the mommy cave. The beer; so cheap and soapy, the table scrawl; so mindless and profane. It's a dream and it makes you feel good about yourself because it is so very base. You can wear a ninja hood into the bar, I know because I did it. You can do push-ups on the floor, apply stickers to any surface, nick the hot sauce, the wet naps and the butter knives. Bliss Mofos. Bliss.

Sneaks has been at College and Bathurst since 1990 when it moved from it's Bloor location. It's long hallway of an upstairs is where you'll go to see bands ranging from crotch throttling brilliant (Foxy Shazam April 5th 2010) to sucker punching grandma horrible (My Disco, March 27th 2009). Count on hearing loss and minimal cover charges. If you throw up in the bathroom no one will notice because every inch of the cess pool looks like a technicolor yawn. 10 points. They have a guy working upstairs that is so fast with a mop it's frightening. I've seen him get all up under a falling beer and have it mopped before it hits the floor. He's some kind of slop guru and should be patted and commended. I tipped him last time even though he gave me some sass about the drink getting knocked from my clutches by a petite blonde lass.

While you can scream, dress insane, be ignorant and belligerent at Sneaks we did manage to get thrown out. Here is the tale…. You spend a whole night on a bar crawl and land your proud bum on the splinter ridden benches of Sneaky Dees at 2:36AM. Your good friends head is dangling limp, chin to chest and his eyes are rolling back and forth like he's trying to read something on his neck. A challenge is issued by the lunatic across the table from you named Stifler. The challenge is to each chug a beer with either the entire salt shaker or entire pepper shaker emptied into your pint glass. So naturally I debate hard for pepper and we toss the poisons in. We rifle our heads to the ceiling. I've got him crushed for time and there is beer, pepper and pride leaking all over the table. Mix that with his beer, tears and sweat and you got an accurate picture of what's seeping into the carved wood table. Now, it may not have been the best for the waiter to lean over the table to collect the disgusting beer glasses. It may not have been the best time for our buddy Jamie to swipe his big mitts in the toxic mixture and flick it at my face. It was the interception of the salt/pepper/beer/sweat nectar by the waiters eyeballs that really sent us packing. His cantankerous anger, bellows of rage and indignation echoed above the Slayer riffing in the background. His shock and trembles as he cuffed my inebriated sleeping buddy on his shoulder and hauled us out. I karate kick a chair in retort and slough off the rumour that it was done with intent and waltz like debutant to the door.

I've seen a man mouth kiss a woman who was painted on the wall here. For 10 minutes.

You will love this.

Ruckus Rating = a scale out of 6 rating the amount of crazed behaviours the place tolerates before being thrown out or beaten with a wet leather jacket.

Sneaky Dees has a Rucks Rating of 5.0

Signed,

Someone who favours mass hysteria to mass complacence.

Shabamzy.

You Should Probably Avoid This

The other night I was channel surfing and stumbled on CNN, aka, What You Should Fear Today. If this isn't the biggest waste of time in our Solar System, then I'm not sure what is. I would rather plant gardenias than watch this; and boy, do I hate flowers.

I won't lie; I did briefly sit there with a smirk on my face while I read the ticker at the bottom, and of course it was all negative; US invades IRAQ, Teen Girl Missing, Terrorists Plan to Attack Again, and blah blah blah. Wouldn't it be beneficial to put jokes or even some motivational quotes that will inspire you, instead of bad news and negativity? I'll give you a hint why they don't; Fear = Control = Money = Beach House.

Everything on CNN is based around fear. To keep you afraid of the enemy, but who's the real enemy? Do you really believe Afghanistan has weapons of mass destruction? I believe it's all a facade. They need to keep you in fear so they can give you some BS excuse to invade other countries for resources and raise your taxes. Were you aware that not a single red cent of your tax money is put towards where you would think it goes. It's put towards the countries debt. What's sad is that all the media has to do say the word Terrorist and the majority of people will gladly open their wallets; especially now after 9-eleven. And if you still think Terrorists are responsible for the 9-eleven attacks, you need to give your head a shake and begin your own research. I would recommend this as your starting point.

I don't personally watch television, but when I do it's either sports or something educational like Jersey Shore The Discovery Channel or Space. I think the best thing you could do for yourself is avoid channels like CNN. When it comes down to it, all news channels are all the same. They tell you what's wrong with the world today. Do yourself a favour and avoid as much negativity as you can, including news papers and news radio. You may think it's no big deal if you're exposed to it, but you would be surprised how it affects your subconscious.

Film dork video of the week

A brilliant example of what would happen if Wes Anderson were to direct the new Spiderman reboot. I always welcome parodies of directors I can't stand.

I promise this isn't a virus. Or a Rickroll.

Thoughts on the TTC - Allen Lee

My recent experience on the blue line TTC inspired me to write in response to the related news frenzy. After a night out for a buddy's birthday, I found myself stranded on York U's campus without my original ride back downtown Toronto.  This was around 1:30 am, so to my knowledge the subway was shut down for the rest of the night. I was facing a sad $30 dollar taxi ride home when I came across an idling TTC bus with the driver having a smoke break outside. The taxi expense made me shudder, so I asked the employee about the possibility of getting home via a bus route.

"Sure buddy, you'll be doing some transferring but you'll get home," he said. I was in no rush, and since saving money was one of my strengths, I hopped on.

At the time of night, I was the only passenger to take the 41 bus down to Keele Station. The driver took off after his smoke, and suddenly I was reminded of the recent news surrounding the TTC. From passed out attendants to inappropriate coffee breaks, I felt inclined to strike up a conversation with him. I asked for his opinion and how he felt about the recent TTC situation. He glanced at me sort of surprised and with skepticism, likely to figure if I was truly interested or just drunk. Eventually he relaxed and began giving me his perspective.

I asked how it felt to be spoken for by a negative TTC driver's behaviour and having to face the consequences that might not reflect him personally.

"Actually, the driver isn't actually suspended for the coffee break," he answered. "He was suspended for being rude and escalating the situation."

I was quite intrigued at this response, and urged him to go on. According to him, the media had gotten some key facts wrong, and that the driver was actually 6 to 7 minutes ahead of schedule. Technically drivers are not allowed to arrive or leave stops earlier than schedule.

I was captivated when he began telling me that he had driven that very route a couple years ago.

"I know that route, and I know that stop where the Tim Hortons is. Its almost guaranteed that the bus will arrive 5 minutes earlier than expected," he recalled. "But I personally never took a washroom break there," he finished. "There's no running water in the washroom!"

Our conversation lasted a while longer, and he managed to get several points across. Being a passenger in the past, he was always ticked off at the way drivers went for coffee breaks during their routes. Therefore, he personally vowed never to take breaks when passengers were on board. 

I transferred buses 4 times that night to get home. Three of the four drivers gave me food for thought. One driver described an incident that happened 5 years ago. While working on the TTC subway, the driver fell victim to gang violence that ended up leaving a scar above his right eye. Apparently, the assault was committed by a newly recruited gang member. His test, or better known as "initiation", was to punch the TTC employee in the face while he was making sure the doors were shut properly before the train took off.

"Did you catch the bastard?" I asked. He snickered and said, "We're talking about the TTC here guy. He was gone like the wind."

I got off my last stop and was left with my own thoughts. The driver who drove down Yonge St. did was stuck in my head. Several homeless folk caught the bus and clumsily boarded. "You know we're not allowed to give free ride," the driver sighed. The men murmured softly and found their comfort in the back of the bus. What was the driver to do? Deny these men the ride? Adamantly deny them in the name of the TTC?

That night I felt a strong desire to begin looking deeper into the story. Personally, I am a pleased and happy customer of the TTC, and thoroughly enjoy the service. I'm sure there are many of those out there that share the same approval of our city's public transportation. But when a couple of people with their cellphones recording a worker on his coffee break and causing such useless news coverage, I feel like I've been spoken for. You are not the righteous citizen that you think you are.

Shabamzy - The Central Ruckus Rating

The Ruckus Rating

By: Shabamzy

Place: The Central

Address: 603 Markham Street, Toronto.

Annex local

Ever been handed a drink from a bartender that was supposed to be water but ended up being 100% vodka? It happens at The Central. Pour me a tall glass of sobering aqua goodness my good man! Nope. No way. Time to tell the brainstem to go real quite, still as the midnight tundra. Your feeble protests can no longer break through the 280 pound/proof Russian vodka bouncer I've thrust between your messages of restraint and the all out madness of the next four hours.

Brainstem pleads, "Don't sing every song with a thick Irish accent" It cries, "It's poor form to ransack your own purse, dump it on the floor and stealing your last $18 to buy shots for strangers". At The Central, you have no chance of sobriety or redemption. You will do these things and more. You will become a rutting savage, pure in the bliss and glee of the wild, free of your workload and the malcontents who stay home and drool. You will be sexy and advantageous in all regards. The Central will coat you in hot plastics and smear you on the opposite sex.

We call this place the Vortex. The small morsel of your brain that cares for your well being and says, "Don't dry hump the coat rack" will be sucked with gale force from your body as you enter the door. You will spend the rest of the night filling the void with candied liquors and a mouth full of foreign tongue.

They sell delicious food here as a front. You can't beat their sweet potato fries and they have wondrous sangria. Their tasty bites come at affordable prices and arrive quickly. They earn top notch for service and pleasure. It's a trick though; a ruse to make you believe you are not going to stay out too late and arrive red eyed and body buzzed to work the next morning. Clever little Central.

Our good friend left a party Lenny Kravitz was hosting to come to the Central with us. The Vortex consumed him and he spend the whole night walking around with his phone on his shoulder held aloft to show the picture of he and Lenny posing. He introduced him as though he were standing beside him. "Have you met Lenny he croaked", "yes, five times tonight chap." We've seen a candy food fight here, people walking out on a $200 bar tab, vomiting from the 2nd floor patio deck into the flora below and a guy walk straight into a window thinking he had somehow mastered the quantum physics needed for such a task. It's a prime picnic if I may say.

The Central is rated one of the premier live music venues in Toronto and has taken great steps to ensure new talent can flourish. Shabamzy plays there regularly and loads the place full to the tits with hounds and non-spade kittens. Bark and Moan we say.

Check out Justin Plet, John Tayles, The Weeds and more.

Visit Dirty Junk for 69cents play on Sunday Feb 7th for your chance to see local artist peddle their wares for extraordinary low prices. Just the name alone suggests you'd be a bed wetter not to attend.

You might not be the kind of person who looks for a mind bending local. You might be the club footed prison punk type who would rather touch a puppy while it sleeps.

Whatever type you are, you'll be welcome at The Central. Even the puppy private petters. You'll just have to stand at the front where everyone can see your hands.

Ruckus Rating = a scale out of 6 rating the amount of crazed behaviors the place tolerates before being thrown out or beaten with a rotten shoe.

The Central has a Ruckus Rating of 4.0.

Signed,

Someone who can tell your fortune by squeezing your nipples.

Shabamzy.

Link: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=2268861180 The Central Facebook group.

EyeWeekly: Oscar Nominations Announced, James Cameron Continues to Bring Hilarity

Nothing new to report, except to urge you all to read this article posted on Eye Weekly, which contains estimates on what ridiculous things James Cameron will shout at the Oscars. Expect most of these to actually occur.

Get Ready for Some Serious Fist-Pumping: Jersey Shore Hits Wet Bar - Amanda Kevins

And, of course, by "Jersey Shore", we mean guest host Mike “The Situation” and Pauly, “DJ Pauly D”, who, surprisingly, will ACTUALLY be DJ-ing.

Now, if you are unaware what I’m talking about by this time, you’ve either been living under a rock for the past 8 weeks or so or you’re one of thousands who have boycotted this so-ridiculous-its-awesome MTV reality series. But again, we aren’t here to talk about the show, we’re here to talk about next Saturday February 6 at Wet Bar.

In an ideal world (and I must admit I love the Shore) we would all be present to witness the poufs, the fake tans, and, arguably best of all, the fist-pumping dudes trying to catch the attention of said fake tanned & poufed women that’ll undeniably be attending. But be advised, at this multi-level facility that has previously hosted the likes of Verne Troyer, Brody Jenner, and numerous other B-list, fame-whoring celebrities, bottle service for the top level (where the action will be happening) will be unavailable, for some stupid, stupid reason. The lineups will undeniably be at least an hour wait, and to even be able to get in this lineup, a reservation is STRONGLY advised. I waited over an hour when I was last there, and there was nothing special happening, other than the greased up dudes sipping their Stoli, staring at the bikini-clad bartenders - oh yes, you read that right, for those of you who have yet to check out this fairly new, waterfall-ridden club. But hey, I’ve only been there in the summertime, so maybe they threw on their sarongs this time. Or, more appropriately for this occasion, ripped Ed Hardy dresses. (Har har. Again, if you aren’t getting this reference you clearly never watch the show. Or you have no idea who Ed Hardy is, in which case please refer to the Fashion entries found in this blog.)

All in all? Sure, any other time, I would recommend this club. With its great third-story view situated directly under the CN Tower, you can sit there, have a few $14 shots (oh, yeah. you’re nuts if you even THINK about getting a beer here) and stare up at the pretty, smoggy Toronto sky. in the summertime. But a cold night in February? Unless you have three bills to spend and a LOT of patience, I advise the two levels UNDER the place, Level & Suite, which, in my not-so humble opinion are better clubs anyway for a decent Saturday night. This way, you’re still part of the action without the ridiculous crowd, book a booth, and enjoy yourself there. At least until the screaming “guidettes” leave, at which time you can jump up a few stairs and sneak a peak at Pauly’s tanned biceps spin & see how many girls are still trying to get The Situation’s all-American (agents) digits. Better still, wait a few weeks for the release of the DVDs and relive the action from the delightful comfort of your couch. Like me.

But here’s the info for all you masochists, just in case!

WETBAR - House Electro Mashup

Music by Juice Mikey Dato and Pauly D

SUITE 106- Hip Hop and Top 40 

Music by Dj LRS

[$100 Bottles Available Only In Suite 106) *by 100 they mean 150 minimum, just so all are clear.]  

Arrive Early To Ensure Entry [Ha.]

Guest list And Bottle Service Strongly Advised [HA]

www.StatusToronto.com

Wetbar and Suite 106

106 Peter Street, Downtown Toronto

647 284 8930 [you’ll never get an answer but try anyway!]

Film news - Infamous Toronto Pervert Going to Hollywood

Toronto's favourite misogynistic weirdo is getting his own movie.

Brad Goodman, producer of Sasha Baron Cohen's Brüno and Borat is making a documentary about Dimitri the Lover, harasser of young Toronto ladies, subject of feminist controversy, and source of constant amusement (for me, at least).

The movie is apparently taking a fairly neutral stance and not attempting to vilify Dimitri in any way, but, well, it's kind of hard to avoid picking up on his absurdity altogether.

I, for one, am eagerly awaiting the result, which will probably be ridiculous and hilarious despite its obvious attempt at controversy (c'mon, you don't really think he's serious, do you? He's writing a book called Mein Kock, for god's sake).

Full article at The Torontoist.

A letter to the pedestrians of Toronto - Jessica Gilbert

Dear pedestrians,

First of all let me say that this is not meant to be viscous or patronizing in any form, nor do I gain pleasure from telling you what I am about to tell you. This is simply a matter of necessity and I would like to inform the general populous of certain concepts that may have never been introduced through a series of letters.

Turning corners is one of the most important skills you will be required to master in your pedestrian career seeing as more often than not, they exist around…well… every corner. Now, the Toronto layout bears a striking resemblance to that of a grid system and if you want to lead a harmonious existence within our multifaceted metropolis, you’ll have to come to terms with the facts. These bastards are everywhere and they are out to get you. As you approach one you may find yourself blind and bombarded with worries. Is there anyone coming the other way? What if they’re running? What if they’re running with scissors?!
 
I assure you that there is a method of getting through these unharmed. This sudden panic may compel you to stick to that wall like Velcro but you must fight this urge as it is the root of a common misconception.

You are not Pac-man. No one will be impressed by how fast you can turn a corner and unless there is a convex mirror mounted at that pivoting point, please take caution.

This common malpractice has led to many collisions and spilt coffees that could be easily avoided if only you would round out your trajectory but a fraction! Implementing this method is well worth it and though doing it takes some effort, it benefits everyone. If you are late, you won’t be any later; if you’re angry you won’t piss off anyone else; if you are an oblivious klutz, no one will be the wiser!

Like I said before this is the most crucial aspect of pedestrian navigation and I know this seems hard but it gets easier from here. So until my next letter I implore you to try your best. Think about it Toronto.

Hype-Worthy Thrillers at Sundance 2010

Sundance usually caters to a select crowd - you know the kind. The kind who like stuff about a malnourished hobo with homemade tattoos and a chick who lives on a mountain with her drug-dealer dad.

However, in case you're the kind of film fanatic who enjoys movies about vengeance, torture, bio-engineered monster, and Ryan Reynolds stuck in a box, do yourself a favour and keep reading.


Buried, starring Ryan Reynolds, directed by Rodrigo Cortes

This is hands-down the most exciting thing I've heard out of the festival circuit this year. Ryan Reynolds stars as a contractor in Iraq who literally gets buried alive. What ensues is an entire film that takes place in a dark coffin with one man, one lighter, one cell phone, and what promises to be one absolutely terrifying experience for someone claustrophobic like me. Rumours are flying about Buried becoming this year's Paranormal Activity, and a pretty good testament to the fact that it doesn't require a ton of money to create a great thriller. Check out the teaser trailer here.


Splice, starring Sarah Polley and Adrien Brody, directed by Vincenzo Natali

Vincenzo Natali (responsible for cult-horror hit Cube - arguably a better pre-Saw film than Saw) teams up with fellow Canadian Sarah Polley (director of the acclaimed Away From Her) and Adrien Brody for Splice, a tale of two young and eager scientists who use cutting-edge biotechnology to create what later becomes a monster. According to IMDB, the creature "develops from a deformed female infant into a beautiful but dangerous winged human-chimera" - um, yes please. Here's a clip, which, in my professional opinion, looks pretty batshit insane.



Les 7 jours du talion (7 Days), starring Remy Girard, directed by Daniel Grou

Yet another (French) Canadian Sundance selection, the news is that 7 Days does what other torture horror films fail to do - be quiet, contemplative, and (judging by the trailer - it's in French but you get the idea) with beautiful cinematography as well as explosively graphic violence and brutality. After his young daughter is murderer, a father kidnaps and tortures her killer over a course of seven days. Reports that this is a difficult film to watch stem from both the extreme violence and the emotionally gripping visions the audience has into the mind of the traumatized father. Dark, bleak, and depressing for sure, but it does look fantastic.

Social Media Revolution

I recently stumbled on this video that shows us the "Social Media Revolution" we're currently in.

How accurate the stats are, I'm not too sure. Nevertheless, it has a Fatboy Slim track playing in the background, and that alone is reason enough to take a look. Seeing these facts makes me wonder what the hell people did before this so called "Revolution"?

I think somewhere along the line of this whole social media frenzy, people figured that it was necessary to update everyone on their daily business. Am I suppose to care that, "Stacy is gearing up for Friday Night", or "Steve got a paper cut and it hurts like a B****"? The answer is "No. Hell no".

Don't get me wrong, I love the Internet and all it's perks. And to be honest, the Inter-webs along with Nintendo raised me better then my parents ever could. But I do think it can also work against you if you don't know what you're doing.

For instance, the whole stolen identity and privacy thing is a huge issue. You have people b****** about their accounts being breached and their pictures being used. What do you expect when your whole life is plastered online. The only thing missing from some of these people's albums is a picture of them when they were 4 years old, sitting on a pony. People put a little too much trust in these social sites.

13 albums and 314 pictures?? Don't mind if I do!!

Want to finally show that ex who keeps hanging around to the door?

Well now thanks to one of Toronto’s newest additions, you can do it without the hassle of hauling your ex’s ass out there yourself. No, this is not a relationship advice column. Nor is it and ad for GROPETO’s own line of personal ads. MYEXCLOSET is Canada’s newest connoisseur of vintage, indie, and mid to high end designer fashion labels. Who says you can’t have your best friend’s leftovers? With MYEXCLOSET you surely won’t be getting sloppy seconds.

Not your average consignment boutique, MYEXCLOSET is a Canada-wide online venture started by the likes of Cassie Cowie & co. Offering in-house pickup when you want to sell your gently loved ex’s and mail to your door when you think you’ve found a new love, MYEXCLOSET puts a twist on your Grandma’s favourite consignment shop. Catering to the university, hipster and yuppie crowd alike, MYEXCLOSET also hosts shopping parties every couple of months held in warehouse-style locations in Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver. With labels ranging from vintage Louis Vuitton to Urban Outfitters and American Apparel, every fashionista will be doomed to have their shopping cart (or their arms) full with some chick’s leftovers.

MYEXCLOSET provides a practical solution to those of you who want to raid their closet of all that gorgeous stuff you bought because you just couldn’t resist (even though you knew you probably would never wear it), and gently loved designer (like that vintage LV bag your Aunt Flo handed down that you couldn’t really ever find an occasion to use) but just can’t find the time to sell it all yourself yet can’t find it in yourself to just give away. The only pet peeve I have with MYEXCLOSET is shipping costs. Which technically isn’t their fault, since we all know Canada Post just sucks, period. Local pick up for buyers might be a good solution, since it’s already being done for sellers, but until then the brick & mortar sales and Clothing Show appearances do the trick if you’re the type that just loathes buying online.

The ecoholic and recessionista in me are giddy just thinking about raiding their inventory at the next Clothing Show at Exhibition Place this spring. When I first fell in love with MYEXCLOSET last fall at The Clothing Show, I essentially bolted over to their booth once I spotted their array of mukluks, Frye boots, 7 for All Mankind jeans, Marc Jacobs bags and tons and tons of more ex’s from Aritzia, Urban Outfitters and Holt’s. Looks were definitely NOT deceiving, as I winded up leaving with a nice hefty bag full of goodies, only to give in to temptation and end up going back for more before leaving. The experience was far from your usual vintage shopping trip at Kensington or Value Village’s 50% off days, with impeccable organization to make your shopping experience all the easier and mint condition items (some even with tags, like the American Apparel high-waisted nylon tricot tights I picked up for $10, marked down from $46, what a steal!).

You can rummage through some seconds online at MYEXCLOSET.com or check them out on facebook and keep in the loop about upcoming sales and updates by searching “MYEXCLOSET”.

Tattoos and Why One Woman Thinks You Shouldn't Bother If You're Not Angelina

Sitting in the waiting room of a downtown Toronto counselling clinic (not for therapy, for once – scouting out locations for a student film and anticipating the arrival of my now twenty minutes late partner in crime), I idly flipped through the October 2009 issue of Elle, a highly-regarded Canadian fashion magazine that leans toward the haute couture. Due to this fact, I did not expect to happen upon

A: An article about tattoos;

Or B: A positive article about tattoos.

Best guesses as to which the article contained (Hint: it sure as hell wasn’t Option B).

Oh, it wasn’t all bad. The author did admit that tattoos look “fab” on Angelina and Rhianna, but she cautions the rest of us mere mortals to think twice before getting a tattoo, because we might not “suit one.”

There are some interesting notions surrounding this tidbit of advice. One is that only “certain people” can appropriately pull off tattoos. Whether they be exotic Hollywood goddesses or punk rock rebels remains to be seen, but the author seems to be hinting that “normal” people, with normal clothes, normal looks, and normal attitudes, would look positively ridiculous with a tattoo. She claims tattoos “suit” a person, like a particular outfit would, and if a tattoo doesn’t fit within the boundaries of your look, it is inappropriate for you to bother with one.

The other strange part of this article is the author’s experience with her own tattoo, which she got on a lark in college – by a tattoo artist in a dingy shop who smoked a joint the entire time and, quite obviously, ruined the Urdu script she had chosen. She went home, immediately hated the tattoo, scrubbed it with a scouring pad (allegedly believing this might actually work), and eventually gave up and took to constantly wearing clothes that hid the tattoo for the next fifteen years.

According to this enlightened individual, because she was incredibly irresponsible and chose to leave something as monumental as a first tattoo, something that is a permanent and life-altering decision, in the hands of an individual under the influence of drugs in a shoddy shop, we should all take caution when getting a tattoo. The author could have stressed the importance of research, how to locate a friendly and clean shop with talented artists, but instead she simply shrugs off her story as yet another reason why some people should avoid tattoos altogether.

Reading this, my immediate thought (aside from irritation and “I should totally write an article about this”) was, “Why doesn’t she just get a cover-up from someone who knows what they’re doing?” Sure enough, the author does address this – and claims it is only one of her many fantasies. She imagines herself (I paraphrase here) “At L.A. Ink, hair flowing over one shoulder as Kat von D constructs an elaborate piece to cover up my mistake, but this will never happen.”

Probably not, dear author – but why not do the apparently unthinkable and actually put more than thirty seconds of thought into your cover up design, visit an artist who doesn’t have a blunt sticking out of his mouth, and get something to change your mangled piece into something beautiful? Or can only incredibly attractive rebellious celebrities who get tattoos from other incredibly attractive rebellious celebrities fulfill this particular fantasy?

Feminism and U - Rustybucket

Ding! Dong! The Bitch is Dead!

 

Mary Daly’s dead.

Or she has been for more than two weeks as she died on January 3rd. Still, it’s not every day someone important dies, especially not famous feminists. Some of you may be know who she is, some of you won’t. For the convenience of the latter group, that’s okay, because I’m here to paint a particularly nasty and biased picture of the hag for you.

Mary Daly is the epitome of everything wrong recently with the feminist movement. She was a radical lesbian feminist who taught at Boston College, and was almost fired for a publication of a book in 1968. Following support from the public and the all-male student body, she wasn’t fired and was granted tenure. That’s perfectly fine, though, because 30 years later she was fired (or in the words of the media, “retired”) and lost her tenure because she decided to refuse male students from attending her classes. Oh wait, that sounds awfully familiar...

…Nope, doesn’t ring a bell. Can’t remember what that reminded me of. Oh well, it couldn’t have been important.

 

"Boston College has wronged me and my students by caving in to rightwing pressure and depriving me of my right to teach freely," Ms Daly said. "This is not about discrimination. This is about leveling the rights of women and minorities."

Of course, Miss Daly decided to elaborate on that view:

"But Daly argues she cannot effectively teach these courses with men in the room because it creates a dynamic that inhibits women. Not only do men misunderstand her concepts - because men cannot understand what it's like to be a woman - but they tend to be disruptive, believing they are similarly oppressed, she says. These kinds of disrupting influences 'dumb down' the class, she insists, keeping it from 'soaring.'"

Makes sense.

To a question posed to her about an article that stated that men should be reduced to about 10% of the population, she supported the idea and elaborated that “If life is to survive on this planet, there must be a decontamination of the Earth. I think this will be accompanied by an evolutionary process that will result in a drastic reduction of the population of males.”

The transcript of the interview can be found here:

http://www.enlightennext.org/magazine/j16/daly.asp?page=2

It’s people like her that make the modern woman disassociate themselves with the term “feminist.” The image is no longer the positive one of strong women marching for suffrage, for the right to their own body, to equal treatment, but of a lunatic who doesn’t shave in defiance of “the man,” butchers the English language by quibbling about job titles, and thinks of men as the scum of the earth and the instigator of all that is unholy. The feminism movement is based on equality, and for those who define themselves as feminists and believe in that concept still, wonderful: All my love to you for supporting a reasonable concept rather than one of purging the male population like a Feminazi Germany. To those of you who consider this woman to be respectable and credible rather than merely an interesting read, what provokes you to think this way?

On a related note, the Toronto Women’s Bookstore is in danger of closing its doors. Seeing as it is actually a positive influence on women, I implore you to support them in their time of need.

http://www.womensbookstore.com/communityletter.html

Shabamzy - Super Market Ruckus Rating

The Ruckus Rating

by Shabamzy

Place: Super Market

Address: 268 Augusta Ave.

Kensington Market

Calamity ensues every single time they let me into the Super Market. It's the kind of bar where you can tear your shirt from martini guzzling throat to beat gyrating pelvis and the bartender won't say boo bigly. The fine lot at the Super Market caters to a thoughtful flock like yourself. They offer you nights called Tear It Like A Ferret with host SERBSUPERB on Jan 29th, humping out Funk, Hip Hop and Electro. Note also, The launch of DINOSAUR PORN on Jan 28th a talkie talking event with readers like Louise Bak, Gary Barwin and Arnaud Brassard. Slick! Free! 7:30pm!

There always seems to be a tiny line there, evidence of popularity with a mild notion they are keeping you as patron trophies to attract More patron trophies. Like a greedy friend you still want to hang around with but secretly wish you could jab with a saucy dinner fork. Once you get past the bouncer; and from experience a sizzle hot face and a sob story is effective, it's vitally important to march straight to the back and climb on the stage.

They let you do this with little regard for your dancing ability. I pull off the "cement mixer", the "samurai sword" and the "limp left foot is asleep" and don't get a single bottle to the head from the crowd. Tolerant I'd say. Friendly even. The patrons of the Super Market are attractive people. The kind you would sleep with out of wedlock. Trend hounds and fashion buckers mix at the 15 or so tables they have. Most stand by the bar and chat about Asian fusion food and bad memories from high school. Having one friend repeatedly screaming happy new year in mangled chinese went over well with grins from the 20 something crowd on Friday night. You will like this place.

The food is packed with flavour and agreeable to the insides. My wallet still has some weight to it as well, not having been stripped bare by their rates. I went with their nightly four course for $15 prix fixe meal. Soup, mango salad with chicken satay, vegetarian pad thai with vegetables and dessert.

You can drink at the Super Market with an average of 4.50 a bevy. It's not $10 pitchers and it's not $10 martinis It's right in the middle. Like a navel. You can impress a date you want to lock flappers with and you won't come off as pretentious or homeless.

Shop smart, Shop S-uper Market.

Ruckus Rating = a scale out of 6 rating the amount of crazed behaviours the place tolerates before being thrown out or beaten with a pipe end.

Super Market has a Rucks Rating of 4.5.

Signed,

Someone who could tackle you to the ground.

Shabamzy.

House On Parliament

Cabbagetown may not be the first thing that pops to mind when you think of brunch, but on weekends House on Parliament serves up the one of the tastiest brunches in town. Their Eggs Florentine platter boasts 2 poached eggs perched on top of mushrooms and tomato, which in turn rest on gently toasted English muffins. The whole affair is drizzled with rich thick hollandaise sauce and paired with hot salty breakfast potatoes and cold fresh fruit. Orange juice was served in the largest glasses I have ever seen.

It is located on Parliament Street (if that was not self-evident) on the corner of Carlton. Thick curtains shield the entrance from the outside world. Inside, the lighting is dim, but the pub has a softer, cozier feel than some of the other pubs you may find along king street and other neighborhoods in the downtown core. The staff is friendly; there is no attitude here. They serve you as if you are family. If you are stopping by during the summer there is a patio as well.

If you are stopping by in between classes during the week, their lunch menu is also very tasty. A recommendation would be the soy burger paired with sweet potato fries. The pulled-pork sandwich is supposed to be a top recommendation as well.

Prices are very reasonable, with plates costing around $10 or less. It was approximately $30 for two brunches with beverages, and lunch was similarly priced. Whether you haven’t made it over to this side of town yet, or you’re in the neighborhood and looking to grab a quick bite to eat this is definitely one place worth checking out.

456 Parliament Street Toronto ON M5S 3A2 Tel: 416-925-4074

How High School Leaves You Unprepared

I know what you're thinking; high school gives you the fundamentals for your future. Uh, not so fast. Although it does set the ground work, it fails to completely prepare you for life after school. Let me explain.

Don't get me wrong here; I agree that Math, Science, English and Social Studies are all building blocks for future success but I think the school system fails to implement the most obvious studies. You're taught subjects throughout high school that are basically meant to make you money when put to use. Your knowledge or expertize in a specific field ultimately makes you money to survive. What blows my mind is the failure to teach how to manage the money you make. Investments, saving, spending habits, etc. This has to be one of the biggest over sights in our solar system. There are a lot of people making decent money, yet some how maintain a huge amount of debt. Still unsure how the school system missed this one. Who knows, maybe they want you in debt.

Second; relationships. This should be a given. Your partner determines a lot about your future; Financially, emotionally and maybe even physically.

Your home is NOT your biggest investment, your partner is! What's sad is that the majority of people place more thought into what car they're about to lease than their potential life long partner. The school system should at least teach the basics. Look for someone who's giving, caring, positive, smart, motivated, etc.
Ask yourself, would I go into business with this person?
In reality that's what you're doing because if worse comes to worse (and it probably will) and you do end up parting ways, you can bet that your break-up/divorce will end up costing you financially and emotionally.

The current divorce rate is 50%. Just imagine all those couples that are unhappy but stay together for kids, finances, and/or comfort.

Anyway, in the end you're gonna do what you're gonna do. =D

Grope TO: An introduction

Greetings all who stumble upon this blog. Here's a hook for those of you who automatically assume we're nothing special.

I hate to brag, but we are special. We're a thorough compendium of everything awesome about the art, music, fashion, and culture within our city, seen through the eyes of post-secondary students, those who wish they were, and those who have a particular fondness for them. We're also a collection of musings, rants, raves, and special little tidbits of advice for the student in you who asks; where am I going with my life? What can I do about this crushing stress in my gut (aside from "drink more", that is)? Where can I find four-dollar Thai food at 2 AM?

Know what we know, and grope what we grope. Feel out our city.