Things That Drive Me Insane Vol. 4 - People Who Can't Find Their Seats

Well, after Volume 3 of this incredible series was posted, I've been inundated with requests for more things that people can do to piss me off, so here we go: WTF is up with peeps who can't find their seats when they have a perfectly clear ticket in their hand, and perfectly clear seat signage?

Let's start with some recent examples of this. Last week, I was in the shit-hole of Surrey, British Columbia, just outside of Vancouver. (Apologies to anyone from Surrey, but I mean come on - the city's slogan should be "It's not a crack house - it's a crack HOME".) On both my flight to Vancouver and back, some fucking dumbass was convinced that they should be sitting in my seat, despite the fact that the sign above the seat clearly indicated that they were not. I really enjoyed the idiocy of the woman on my flight to Vancouver who - once she took her correct seat beside me - decided to wake me up at one point, to enquire if I was using her seatbelt. I wasn't because that's...you know...FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE. But thanks for waking me up.

While these seat-morons are irritating on flights, where they really tweak my nipples is at sporting events. I mainly attend Leafs and Raptors games at the Air Canada Centre, and I really don't know how the sections and seats could be more clearly marked. Additionally, there are ushers (aka "Idiot Gate-Keepers") at every entrance into each section to direct illiterate morons. I can only imagine the chaos if these guys weren't there. Despite this fact, at virtually every game I go to, there always seems to be mass confusion a row or two in front of me shortly after the start of the game where people argue over whose seats are whose, punctuated with much head-scratching and staring at tickets. More enraging? This always seems to happen during a Leafs power play.

I never know how to finish these posts. I'm usually so worked up that I feel like flinging my keyboard through the monitor, so why don't we just end this here.

Beautiful Transit Anarchy

The scene
I’m onboard a Toronto Transit Commission subway car, work-bound. I board at Christie station, and take the Bloor line east to St. George station, at which point I had planned to transfer to a southbound train to the downtown core. Upon arrival at St. George, it’s apparent that this commute will be seriously disrupted.

The problem
As I get off Bloor line subway, I’m on the lower level of the station (see the cross section of Clusterfuck HQ below). I’m shocked to find that there has been so much delay on the North/South line on the floor above, that the backlog of passengers has filled the stairway, stopping me one third of the way up the stairs from the bottom floor (as our regular readers would know, TTC service disruptions make us some of us pretty excited, as do strikes, terrorism, guerilla warfare and the proliferation of nuclear weapons).

The following (cherished) societal abnormalities result from this situation

• As I turn to get back on the Bloor line, I find the passengers from the trains that came in after mine have now filled the entire bottom floor, and the bottom third of the stairwell on which I’m standing.
  
• Anyone with a hint of claustrophobia starts seriously freaking out, mindlessly and stressfully asking people next to them what’s going on. When one of these cool cats shakes the question out of their quivering lips to me, I say “umm, looks like a lot of people are taking the subway today.”
  
• The escalator keeps moving up to the second floor and there isn’t space on the second floor. But people keep boarding and then coming off the escalator like lemmings. As they come off at the top, the density of bodies keeps increasing, reaching a point of overcapacity distinguished by the crowd’s angry grunts and shrieks.
  
• The passengers on the bottom floor who want to go to street level (again, see cross-section of station above) start realizing they are trapped. Obviously waiting out what is likely to be a short 20 minute ordeal is not an option, and instead they do the sensible thing and try to climb up the backs of the people on the packed stairwell.
  
• Two ladies ahead of me are shoved backwards, and I catch them, forced backwards with the hard heel of my dress shoe only half on my stair. I manage to keep it together by grabbing for a rail, which is a good thing as I would’ve absolutely crushed the four-foot grandma behind me, and likely others in the human-avalanche that would’ve ensued.
  
• A few stairs up from me, two guys who were a little to close for comfort had a face-to-face 'fuck you' competition, cussing each other out and looking like a rumble was going to ensue. When they realized that this would require fighting in a very tight crowd on a stairway, they gave closing gestures and turned away. The funny part: they had to then stand there steaming at each other for 20 minutes, shoulder to shoulder and faces turned away like some old married couple after a fight. Hilarious.

Of course, when I told JohnnyM about all this, that anarchist asshole was fucking elated and wished he could've been there.

JTC Hotness Contest, Volume 2: Bette Midler vs. Barbara Streisand

My co-board member Pchrist recently saw what he thought was a picture of Bette Midler. Being totally into that genre of music (and steeped in gayness), JohnnyM promptly corrected him, indicating that it was in fact Barbara Streisand. Given the many similarities between these 60-something Jewish goddesses, I can see how Pchrist mistook one for the other. So, following the inspiring (and somewhat gay) path that JohnnyM has blazed (flamed?), I'll attempt to show the subtle differences between these aging songstresses, and through the course of that exercise, decide who is hotter.

abc
Hotness Category 1 - Nickname

Bette: "The Devine Miss M"
Barbara: "Babs"

Edge: Obviously "Babs".

Hotness Category 2 - Jewishness

Bette: Known to pepper her speech with yiddish
Barbara: Won't even press elevator buttons on Sabbath

Edge: Barbara, by a schtickle.

Hotness Category 3 - Singing voice

Bette: Sultry, with occasional schtick
Barbara: It's not without it's chutzpah

Edge: I want to be the wind beneath Midler's wings.

Hotness Category 4 - Nose

Bette: Average
Barbara: Schnozzle

Edge: Babs.

Hotness Category 5 - Trunk

Bette: Juicy
Barbara: What a Tuschus!

Edge: Streisand.

Simple math: it's 4-1 Babs. Mazal Tov, you hot, hot yenta.

Things That Drive Me Insane Vol. 3 - Date Abbreviations That Don't Make Sense

After the overwhelming response I received to Volume 1 and Volume 2 of this series, I really had no choice but to continue explaining things that make me want to gnaw my own hand off out of irritation.

In this installment, I'd like to mention people who insist on stating that (as an example) the year 2008 - pronounced "two thousand and eight" to most of us - can instead be shortened cleverly to "two-oh-eight". I don't know who the fuck started this, but "two-oh-eight" would be...you know...208. The start of the 3rd century. According to my friends at Wikipedia, this is what was happening then: "After the death of Commodus in the previous century the Roman Empire was plunged into a civil war." Not 2008, when ...uh..."Dawson's Creek (2003 series finale): The characters meet once again. Dawson, now 25 is the creator of a television series, The Creek, based on his life." Um...right.

I'm really not sure why this bothers me so much, but sweet fuck, it really, really does. Really.

Just realizing that I'm creating a blueprint for people that want to irritate the shit out of me,
JohnnyM

P.S. Did you guys hear that the toilet on the International Space Station is broken? They have one toilet on the whole station? That's just asking for trouble. What do they do when it's they're all eating hot and spicy food on (freeze-dried) Indian night?

Brainer

To my shock and dismay, my hero's attempt has failed! His balloon floated away without him, taking with it both $200,000 of his budget, and my hopes and dreams.

But I'm confident he will try again. Despite the naysayers and their "intimidating risks", and despite spending $12M to date, only to fail three times? Fuck yeah.

And damn it, I can't think of a more important thing in the world to spend $12M+ on than a giant balloon ride to the edge space. Except maybe a bunch of smaller balloons to give to the one billion kids on this earth who live in poverty. Or food for them. Or they can all find hope in this one big balloon as it rises to the heavens, transporting a bored millionaire to space.

No-brainer

Headline news today is the record-setting-skydive attempt by retired French paratrooper Michel Fournier, who plans to jump out of a hot air balloon on the edge of the stratosphere (the threshold of space, mind you), and plummet towards the earth. Delayed several times, the launch crew has been awaiting the right conditions. While they’re waiting, I thought I’d give them my views on this brilliant idea.

It makes so much sense that frankly, I’m embarrassed for all humanity that it took someone so long to do this. This whole thing seems like a no-brainer to me. Here is what the article calls “an intimidating set of risks”:

• Upper-level wind shear that could damage the balloon (Fournier's first two attempts in 2002 and 2003 ended when wind gusts shredded his balloon before it even became airborne).
• If the apparatus he’s riding in fails within the first 1,000 feet of ascent, there will not be enough time for Fournier to bail out, or for the balloon's parachute system to deploy. The engineers call this low-altitude segment the “Dead Zone”.
• When he first exits the apparatus, because the air is so thin, he will not be able to correct his path by manoeuvring his body in the air – if he goes into a spin, he probably will not be able to recover before he blacks out from the force of acceleration. After falling about 15,000 feet, Mr. Fournier will pass the speed of sound. Even a minor kick could initiate an unrecoverable tumble.
• If he is unconscious when he lands, his team must find him and remove his helmet before his spacesuit's air supply runs out. He could land anywhere in a 40 kilometer radius.

If it works (is there really a chance of failure here?):
“He will land, get some high-paid speaking gigs and take his place in aviation history”. High-paid speaking gigs? Aviation-fucking-history? Fournier’s got it made!

If it doesn’t work:
He will die, and take his place in aviation history. Just like this guy.

Coachella Hotness Contest: Emily Haines vs. Richard Ashcroft

During JTC's recent sojurn to Southern California for the Coachella Arts and Music Festival, there were a few bands that we were quite looking forward to seeing play live. For me, the biggest draw was probably The Verve; CoCo was quite smitten with Metric.

Following these bands' performances, it became apparent that we were interested in perhaps more than just the music (although I defy any musical artist to open a set better than ripping into "This Is Music", like The Verve did). No, no - we were also quite taken with the lead singers of the respective bands. To settle the argument, I have decided to declare the first ever JTC Hotness Contest.

Step right up, peeps - it's Emily Haines of Metric versus Richard Ashcroft of The Verve:

Hotness Category #1 - Torso Attire

Haines: May not have been wearing a bra

Ashcroft: Definitely not wearing a bra (I saw nipple!)

Edge: Ashcroft

Hotness Category #2 - Footwear
Haines: No one could remember

Ashcroft: None. All that hotness has to escape somewhere

Edge: Ashcroft

Hotness Category #3 - Haircut*

Haines: "Could use a trim"

Ashcroft: "Looks way better with his hair like that"

* Quotes are courtesy of my CHP

Edge: Ashcroft

Hotness Category #4 - Smitten JTC Board Member

Haines: CoCo T. Monkey

Ashcroft: JohnnyM

Edge: Ashcroft

Hotness Category #5 - Aging?

Haines: Yes

Ashcroft: Gracefully

Edge: Ashcroft

Hotness Category #6 - Genitalia Location

Haines: Internal

Ashcroft: External

Edge: Haines (DAMMIT!)

So there you have it - through this totally scientific process, Ashcroft wins by a clear margin of 5-1.

I'm pretty sure CoCo has sex with men, and this is gayer than that,

JohnnyM

WTF Volume 5: The Baconator

In this edition of JTC’s continuing “WTF” series, we analyze “The Baconator”, Wendy’s new hamburger, which is essentially a cow wearing buns.

Wendy's Strategy

WTF Factor: Palm-covered face

For a company that prides itself on quality and freshness, offering this colon-clogging behemoth is quite the fucking departure.

The Egregious Size of the Burger

WTF Factor: Speechless Pointing

Two quarter-pound patties, six slices of bacon, cheese, cheese sauce, mayonnaise. It sounds like a week’s worth of groceries.

The Nutritional Content

WTF Factor: Crinkled Brow

840 calories, 1880 mg of sodium: That’s just the burger. It’s 1660 booty-plumping calories with a large coke and fries. I feel like I’m putting on weight just looking at pictures of it.

People Who Order It

WTF Factor: Condescending Stare

Fast food enthusiasts can relish in their dissent of a pussy, health-conscious society, saying “fuck off, you granolas – I’m going to do what tastes right!”

The Experience of Eating One




WTF Factor: Clenched Anus

Wrapping your quivering lips around this meat-stronsity may quell your longing for grease, but trust me, your beleaguered bowls will pay for it. Constipation: what a rush!

fds

The Lack of Warning Labels

WTF Factor: Puzzled Stuterring

They have warning labels on cigarettes. Why not for this hamburger? The wrapper should read with at least the following warnings: Do not operate heavy machinery within 3 hours of consuming the Baconator. Women nursing or pregnant should avoid contact with the Baconator. If eating the Baconator results in an erection lasting longer then 8 hours, please contact your doctor.

Random Thoughts

So - we've been back from Coachella for over a week, and haven't posted anything - our bad. Turns out that our "real jobs" are actually keeping us all pretty damn "busy". That's okay though - here's a random listing of shit I feel like talking about:

1) The Fucking Toronto Transit Strike

We've gone on and on about how a strike by the Toronto Transit Commission would be pretty damn cool. The union insisted that they would give at least 48 hours notice before going on strike, so we should be fine to leave town for a weekend to go to California, no? No. Those fuckers went on strike, ignoring the 48 hours notice promise, and we were in Cali, unable to enjoy the hysteria. By the time we were back, all transit was once again running smoothly.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.



2) Best T-Shirt Seen At Coachella

While we saw a ton of great t-shirts at Coachella, the one with this graphic was hands-down our favourite:

3) This Deserved A Pair Of Bad Idea Jeans

So there we were, 4am on a Monday morning, driving the rental car back to LA, and we needed to fill it up with gas. I spotted a station, and pulled off the highway. The following conversation ensued:

CoCo: "If we get shot, this was your idea."
JohnnyM: "Don't be silly. I'm not getting out of the car. You are."

What followed was fucking bizarre. I got out of the car, to try to pump the gas. A car immediately pulls up beside me, and some woman gets out, offering to sell me a pair of "high-end car jacks". I then notice her vehicle has no rear wind shield. The gas pump won't take my fucking credit card because it's asking me for a zip code (hilariously, I tried "90210"). CoCo and I then tried to talk to the guy in the attendant booth, and give him $20 to pre-pay for some gas.

Despite some excellent miming of the action of gas pumping (which in hindsight MAY have looked like we were pretending to shoot someone lying on the ground) and the fact that the guy WORKED AT A GAS STATION (what did he think we wanted?) he had no idea what was going on. As more and more weirdos came out of the woodwork, and seemed to be taking a lot of interest in us, we decided to leave and purchase our petroleum derivatives elsewhere. I enjoyed this comment from CoCo - looking at the map - as I gunned our white-kid-carrying-rental-SUV straight outta there:

"Jesus - you just tried to buy gas at 4am in Compton."

See you in a week!

The Board of Directors is en route (that's french for "on the way", people) to the Coachella festival this weekend. Enjoy yourselves (not that way), and we'll undoubtedly have some hilarity to share on our return. In the meantime, all of you JTC delegates are asked to participate in the new poll.

In my mind, you're all Super delegates.

Coco

TTC Strike Averted; JohnnyM Horrendously Disappointed

So - contrary to my previously mentioned hopes and dreams, there will be no transit strike here in the city of Toronto, and the estimated 1.5 million daily TTC riders (my sublime, self-righteous ass among them) can continue to be herded to work like cattle tomorrow morning.

But before we go back to our regularly scheduled programming, I'd just like to relay a conversation held between myself and CoCo on Friday afternoon on a downtown patio, which I think gets to the root of my "put people outside of their comfort zone, and something good might happen" argument...

JohnnyM: "So, if there's a strike on Monday, how are you going to get to work?"
CoCo: "I'll just walk. You?"
JohnnyM: "I think I'm going to run in."
CoCo: "But won't you be all sweaty?"
JohnnyM: "Yeah, but I can shower at the gym."
CoCo: "Hey - that's a great idea...I think I'll do the same. Actually, regardless of if there's a strike, I might just start doing that."
JohnnyM: "There it is."
CoCo: "You're really hot. Let's make out."*
JohnnyM: "Holy shit, you're so gay."*


* I may have taken some 'artistic license' with this portion of the conversation. But I'm pretty certain CoCo is gay. And I don't mean happy. We're talking rainbows.

WTF Volume 4: Calgary

Welcome to the fourth installment of JTC Inc.'s "WTF" series, where we highlight things that make us say "What the fuck?". This edition deals with Alberta's largest city, Calgary: gateway to the west. And by "the west", we mean "rampant crack smoking".

The ludicrously short Calgary (nee Husky) Tower

WTF Factor: Head recoil with eyeroll

Usually the narrow form factor of a tower is used to achieve greater heights than surrounding buildings of standard design, but not in the case of this embarrassingly short edifice from which the Husky company quickly disassociated itself. In a contest of phallic symbols, The CN Tower makes this look like a nipple.

Trailer Park Tuxedoes

WTF Factor: Cringe with groan

Jeans. Jean shirt. Jean Jacket. This class outfit is a Calgarian staple, even in the business district. With every second person around me consistently draped in denim, I felt out of place in an actual suit.

The Idiotic Street/Avenue/Quadrant System

WTF Factor: Clenched "I'll get you!" fist shake

Albertan Urban Planners must be smoking B.C. bud, because they decided to combine the 'avenue/street' cross-hatch city plan with the 'ne/se/sw/ne quadrant' plan. The resultant layout means not only does each avenue intersect itself (ie. 9th and 9th), but there are two of each intersection (ie. two 9th & 9th's). Perfect for the hammered out-of-towner trying to give directions to a cab driver.

Plus 15

WTF Factor: Gestures suggesting masturbation

Instead of being a real city and burrowing beneath the earth, the city decided to escape Old Man Winter's chilly spank by building walkways "Plus 15" feet above ground. Welcome to Calgary: Despite bathing in oil, we're still lame and cheap.

The Number of Transient Crack Smokers

WTF Factor: Turned-up-the-wrong-street regretful frown

Actually, although there were a lot of crack smokers, what was weirder was the number of addicts on the streets generally. The fun part is seeing who can get the least number of needles stabbed in their arm while running by the Cecil Hotel.

The Red "Mile"

WTF Factor: Both palms facing upwards

The fact that a few Flames' supporters bars are within a three-block length in a four-kilometer strip-mall called 17th Avenue is great, but Calgarian's belief that these these bars cover a "mile" might explain the Calgary Tower's height.

JTC Inc. would like to extend our deepest apologies and sympathies to Calgarians; Apologies, for the above scathing commentary about your municipality, and sympathies, because your city really, really sucks.

On behalf of the entire crew, thanks for flying JTC Inc.

In the midst of loathing air travel during a recent excursion, I noticed how the whole flight safety routine with the flight crew sherades et al is little silly. There's no need to point out the only four possible exits from the hermetically sealed vessel that passengers will be riding at 30,000 feet above the earth: trust me, I'm pretty sure we know exactly where the door is in the event of an emergency, and have probably already sussed out the old ladies and children we'll need to trample to get there.

That said, the useless pointing routine could be used to alleviate the doldrums on the plane between the "sit down with your seatbelt on" time and the "get up and have sex with a stewardess in the bathroom" time; They could do a fulsome job of pointing out the insanely obvious and add the following to the routine:

"There are two exits at the front, two at the rear" *point at two exits at front, and two in rear - don't forget to blow out your guns after using them to point*

"Food goes here" *point at passenger's mouths*

"Pants go here" *point at passenger's leg/crotch areas*

"This is going to be huge!" *point at own crotch*

"Motherfucking snakes!" *point at motherfucking plane*

I think you get the idea - it could be a lot more exciting.

What doesn't need spicing up, however, is the fold out safety pamphlet geared towards those who slept through the safety procedures at takeoff and need a quick refresher as the plane dives into a tailspin. It's fucking hilarious. For instance, the pamphlet shows that during an emergency, the following will occur:

Business women will fire dashed lines out of their eyes down at helpless souls on the earth's surface:

fdas

Despite the prospect of crashing into land or water, passengers will be as enthralled as my first year archeology class (check out bearded dude just staring at the ceiling):

sdf

sdf

fds
And more interestingly, there will be unnecessarily hot women suggestively inflating their vests:

sdadfd

If this is what really goes on, I very much look forward to my next emergency, in particular, having my vest inflated. As a final thought, if you take anything away from this article, please remember to adjust your own motherfucking snake before adjusting the motherfucking snake of a child.

J-Lo's Miracle Weight Loss Plan

I was walking past a magazine stand on Friday, when a headline caught my eye - it was something along the lines of "J-Lo Loses 40 lbs With Miracle Weight Loss Plan!"

Now - unlike CoCo - I'm not much of a celebrity gossip hound, but didn't J-Lo just have twins? Wouldn't extricating two small humans from your abdomen certainly help with your "miracle weight loss plan"?

We here at JTC have a bit of an engineering / process background, as evidenced by our well-documented love of flow charts. In order to help those who may be wishing to employ the J-Lo miracle, I quickly put together the following:

The beauty of this is that it DOESN'T MATTER how many children you may be carrying - triplets? quintuplets? - it STILL WORKS. You just keep on removing them, until you reach your WEIGHT LOSS GOAL.

You're welcome,

JohnnyM

P.S. I saw Doug Gilmour in the Loblaws at Laird and Millwood this afternoon, and almost shit my pants, I was so excited. I guess that could be another weight loss plan...

Watch Out!

We here at JTC are huge fans of watches. And no, I'm not talking about Swiss time keeping pieces (although we are a big fan of both the Swiss and their currency) - I'm talking about when something is considered so "news-worthy" that it gets it's own "watch" on the evening news. As luck would have it, these watches usually come packaged with their own graphics and theme music.







I know you've all seen these - if you troll around the net long enough, it's not difficult to find all sorts of this shit, be it a "Storm Watch", "Hurricane Watch", "Disease Watch", "Gas Watch", "Stock Watch", "Britney Watch", or what have you.



However, what we really love - and what seems to grip our beloved city of Toronto every few years - is the threat of a public transit strike by the Toronto Transit Commission. Who can forget the fantastic Wildcat Strike of '06 when we all found out how important wild felines are to the smooth operation of our transit infrstructure? Shit - we loved it so much that we here at JTC came up with our own graphic for that one.




Well, with another TTC strike appearing imminent, our fear-mongering friends at CityTV ("How simple household items CAN KILL YOUR CHILDREN! Coming up, after sports and weather") have come up with a fresh, updated strike watch graphic




I can't wait to see what happens. Truth be told - even though two thirds of the JTC Board of Directors rely on the TTC to get to our...uh....real jobs - I wouldn't mind if there was a strike. I enjoy seeing people being put out of their comfort zones and realizing that maybe walking/biking to work wouldn't kill them. Also, I'm a big fan of general civil unrest. Throw in an Olympic Torch protest with a TTC strike, and I might just be in heaven, comrades.

WTF, Volume 3: Las Vegas

Following Coco's lead, the following is a list of things that made me say, "What the fuck?" when I recently travelling to the charming village of Las Vegas, Nevada:

Jaw-Dropping Obesity
WTF Factor: Loss of Appetite
Seriously - this kinda grossed me out. I noticed on the plane when we were flying there, that there appeared to be a few more...uh...COS's (Customers of Size) than on most flights I've been on, but I frankly wasn't prepared for the amount of sub-cutaneous fat that I got to observe. How did these people walk around with all that weight? Well...some of them didn't...



Why Walk When You Can Ride?

WTF Factor: Pursed Lips
Never have I seen so many people riding on those little scooters in my life. I think the "water-shed" moment for me though was when I saw two scooters "parked" beside the buffet at the Rio.



That Dude That Gave Me The Finger
WTF Factor: Bemused Smile and Wave
One night, me and the CHP were standing on a corner outside the Bellagio. A taxi came around the corner, and the dude who was riding shotgun, leaned out the window and gave us the finger. There was no one else around - it was clearly directed at us. The following conversation ensued:

CHP: "That was nice."
JohnnyM: "I'm sure he had his reasons."


REAL Whoring
WTF Factor: Disbelieving Stare
While there's been some recent discussions of our own whoring activities here at JTC, I wasn't prepared for the open nature of the REAL whoring in Vegas. Trucks went down the strip, guys wore t-shirts with phone numbers while handing out ads, and every 10 feet there were boxes with pamphlets in them, all offering "girls to your room!"

Not my bag, peeps...but if it's yours - stay safe.



Bringing Children To "Sin City"


WTF Factor: Head Shake
Why? Seriously: why?

WTF, Volume 2: JTC Inc. Blog Comments

A comment on the previous post:

Anonymous' Comment

WTF Factor: Wanker
I'll plead guilty to whoring for blog traffic on SWPL, but not to vaginal irrigation, and if you're one of the millions of people who hate spam, you could help the cause by not making "anonymous" comments on blogs. Muppet.

WTF, Volume 1: Toronto

The following is a short list of things about the city I call home that keep me asking "what the fuck?":

The Cost of a Large Beer at a Leaf’s Game

WTF Factor: High
Increasing at about 100 times the rate of inflation, this season a large was $13.50. I guess they felt they were just giving it away when they charged $11 a couple of years ago.




People who say “Spah-Deen-Ah”

WTF Factor: Moderate
It’s “Spah-Dine-Ah”, you fucking muppets.





The fact that the TTC built a Sheppard Subway Line

WTF Factor: Cocked Eyebrow
Mel Lastman’s ‘Ikea Express’ is breathtakingly stupid: Check out Leslie station, conveniently located on a 6-lane suburban corridor with barren sidewalks.




The Flagrant Gentrification of Queen West

WTF Factor: Head Shaking
The “Bohemian Embassy”? Really?!













The Uselessness of Yonge/Dundas Square

WTF Factor: Eye Rolling
A paved, bleak square surrounded with offensively large advertisements and big box stores. It’s really urban planning at it’s best.






The Amount of Roasted Corn Consumed at Toronto’s “Taste of” Festivals

WTF Factor: Stink Face
People who probably never eat roasted corn will line up forever for a butter-soaked cob at these street parties. I think it’s really fucking weird.






By-law 522-78

WTF Factor: Mild
This is why little kids in Toronto grow up wanting to overthrow the government.







David Zancai, a.k.a. “Zanta”

WTF Factor: Honey Garlic
Yes! Yes! Yes!

Couple of quick items

Here are two things I thought you would all (both?) love to know:

1) File this one under 'full disclosure': For those of you who were over at our house last Thursday night, I have an admission - as is rapidly becoming a habit on Thursdays, I was going commando for a good portion of the evening. When I got changed after my cycling workout earlier in the evening, I realized that I didn't have any underwear with me, so it was...uh...just me and my jeans, if you know what I'm sayin'. Don't worry though - I eventually got changed after about an hour or so of coming home.

2) Similar to CoCo's well-documented issues in the bathroom, I tend to run into odd situations in change rooms. While I don't believe I've ever written a blog post about these, I'd just like to comment that one of my favourites was the time when I saw a dude blow-drying his pubes at the gym. Anyhoo, last Saturday I enjoyed quite the spectacle at a local community centre. Following a swim, there was an older Asian gentleman in the showers with me. (Well - not with me...he was sort of beside me...oh, whatever.) This guy appeared to be showering prior to entering the pool area. Suddenly, without warning and with the water still running over him, he dropped down to the floor and started doing push-ups in the shower. It was fucking odd, let me tell you.

Degrading Discounts

Ah, tiered fares - the first world's caste system! If you think they were born out of stiff competition in the airline industry (where airlines pass on savings to customers who forego frills), you're dead wrong. Dead wrong. It's actually a group of sadistic marketing sonofabitches making up the restrictions, hoping to humiliate passengers. Don't believe me? Here's a couple of recent examples:

1. My recently purchased 'Economy Supersaver' ticket on BMI restricts me from being able to select a seat, even at check in. I don’t even know what the fuck this means. Do I just show up and look for an empty seat like I’m at the movies? Are there going to be assholes who put their bags on empty seats like in the subway? How does this save BMI money? Oh right, it doesn't - it's just another random inconvenience for me, the cheap-ass passenger.

2. Similarly, a friend flew Southwest on their “Wanna Get Away” fare. Apparently, “Wanna Get Away” means “I’m poor and would like to be treated that way”, because what ensued was staged boarding at the gate, with the stages not being defined by the usual “old people and babies followed by row number” fashion, but instead, by “fare class”. So essentially, there was no assigned seating, and they let the passengers on in order relative to how much they paid. When my friend finally got on, he and his wife were about 20 rows apart. Humiliated? You bet!

If any of you sadist marketers are reading this (and given our absolutely massive readership, that’s more a certainty than a probability), I’d like to suggest other things me and my fellow cheap ass passengers are willing to do to save our hard-earned and tightly-held travel dollars.

Instead of a seat, I’ll sit on a stool in the galley in the back. Or I'll just stand. If you want, in between movies, I’ll make your full-fare-paying customers feel great by walking up and down the aisles yelling “Hey people! I’m sitting on an uncomfortable stool in the back of the plane because I paid less than you! You're getting value for your money, dammit!”. Alternatively, I could sit in a corner near the washroom with a dunce cap that says "discount fare". Or, I could forego use of the bathroom. If it’s an overseas flight, I’ll wear a fucking catheter if I have to. If necessary, your stewardesses can tell the other customers why I’m wearing a catheter. I’ll also offer to show them the catheter while discussing my thrift and smaller annual income.

Anything you want guys! Lets work together to make air travel accessible, and embarrassing, for all.