I found the first video on a site called Manboobz which listed it as a Steely Dan cover band. So you can be sure it's quality stuff. Yup.
Just one more practice and they would have nailed it.
See?
On a more serious note: I firmly believe that not everyone should have the right to buy a musical instrument.
Okay. Palate cleanser. Santana shreds!
I once heard tale of a young woman from Japan wandering the halls of a Canadian mall, looking for a taste of home to to fill the hole in her homesick soul. "Excuse me," she'd say to passers-by. "Where can I find shoe cream?" They'd point her to the nearby Footlocker store with a bemused smile. She walked dutifully to the shoe store, but never entered. She simply looked in with sad eyes.
She didn't want shoe cream. So what did she want?
It's not that I don't get why think tanks exist. I do. They exist for the same reason lobbyists and serial killers exist: some people have uncontrollable urges to do the wrong thing. No, what I don't get is why anyone listens to them without either laughing or replying with their bum parts.
And that's all I have to say about think tanks. What I have to say to think tanks involves my anus.
Gone are the days you could merely cull the eggs. Now the eggs have hatched, revealing the gooey but familiar image they contained, making a sound not unlike a random profile generator. It's a lot like someone describing themselves, but lacking any real sense. You can tell it's not real because, while people make mistakes, these mistakes are the wrong sort.
They come across as nonsensical rather than stupid.
It had been a while since I checked my list of followers on twitter, largely because I don't care. I only started on twitter as a way of making fun of it but it manged to out-wit me. My intention was to periodically baa like a sheep. Twitter doesn't let you make the same post over and over again. I gave in. I started to make real comments. Frustratingly short ones, but still real ones.
Should I be sad that a spammy spambot sometimes generates more interesting and amusing profiles than a real human? As I was going through the list, blocking eleven apparently fake followers in a row, I felt a strange sense of loss mingling with the usual hatred. Sure, most of it was just obvious gibberish. (eg. "Favorite movie - Woman in the Window, The" or claims to be 230 years old.) But other parts have a decided ring of Engrish to them. Who doesn't love Engrish?
I was reading the Province newspaper at my favourite soup and sandwich place today when I read a very interesting letter to the editor. Interesting in the negative sense of the word.
Cartoonist Dan Murphy has every right to make fun of the Queen as a freeloader, with zero relevance to Canada.
Such anti-monarchy sentiment is increasing as Canada chooses to sever all ties with Britain. Perhaps B.C. should drop the “British” from its name, and look for allegiance elsewhere? Perhaps China — a one-party dictatorship — is a better alternative?
John Clench, Vancouver
I have a memory of driving down Hemlock Street on my way downtown and seeing a small cafe claiming to be wicked and to have great waffles. Even more intriguing to me than its odd location - just a block away from somewhere yet decidedly nowhere - was that combination of wickedness and waffle. That's not a combination you see every day.
Well, unless you drive along Hemlock every day.
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| The Wicked Cafe |
I despise the sort of breathless, self-righteous emails that get forwarded around the ethernets just slightly more than I hate penis-enlargement SPAM1. They're terribly written and seldom have even a nugget of truth in them. The few times they hold a bit of truth, it's so surrounded by bullshit that it hardly matters.
Here's a case in point.
