http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoGYx35ypus
this guy is hilarious! and he's spot on... we can't go back
4 years ago
Friday, May 1, 2009
Ideas - Part 2 - Road Kill Cam
This one just needed to be documented somewhere - even though it may never be realized.
Tiny cameras with protective re-inforcement covering around it that sit, embedded into the road on the median line (is that what that line is called?) that basically take pictures or movies of cars speeding past.
Not sure at this point what the ideal use for this would be but i'll think of something.
Tiny cameras with protective re-inforcement covering around it that sit, embedded into the road on the median line (is that what that line is called?) that basically take pictures or movies of cars speeding past.
Not sure at this point what the ideal use for this would be but i'll think of something.
Monkey is an asshole - Part 1
I love cats - let me clear that up for you. Alot of the times,
I even love MY cat!
But my cat Monkey is the biggest jerk-wad ever!
I even love MY cat!
But my cat Monkey is the biggest jerk-wad ever!
small cat brain my ass!
Look at him, doesn't he LOOK like a jerk?
He knows exactly what he's doing.
He knows exactly what he's doing.
Thursday April 9, 2009
I came home to find that I had not folded my pyjama pants and put them away - but instead in my haste to get to work, left them on the bed. The carnage took place sometime during the day - and the remnants - shredded pieces of chewed up tie-up strings that keep my pants on were all over the bed. But he didn't keep them even, perhaps chew both to a similar length, no! He left one completely intact - and at useable length, but the other one was half its size!
Making it very hard to use them, but unable to throw them out.
And now, everytime I use them - my anger spews out in half-formed sentances and I say something in his general direction. And he knows what he's done - his face says, I know.
I wish I could say this is the first time he's done this, even the second. But he's left a path of destruction through my wardrobe, a favourite bra cut by his teeth right on the strap, a little black dress now with one strap cut and one intact, a great tank top - now with one strap only. And I've kept them all.
To remind me.
Ideas - Part 1 - the Urban Whale Song
I think one day soon someone will do this - and make lots of money from it. I've just been too lazy to buy some kind of hand-held recording device and get this started. But riding the subways - our urban whales - swimming, gliding, underground - under our city - you hear the kinds of noises that reminds one of Star Trek IV, only one of the BEST of the Star Trek movies, I don't care WHAT you say - Sven! the whales rocked!
Anyway, I digress.
The sounds that sometimes come out of the grinding metal or creaking rails is astounding. Sustained notes of anguish or lonliness or just perhaps, maybe...a Northbound Yonge-University line train trying to communicate with it's poor cousin, the East-bound Bloor-Danforth line train. Oh, what's that? You don't know why I would say such a thing? Well, just take a ride on the different lines one of these days and you'll see what I mean...even the seats are nicer (consistantly - perhaps not every single time, sometimes a good car slips through and the East-Westers get to ride on the shiny cars). You know I'm right.
Again, digressing.
I wonder what a collection of these recordings would sound like...maybe different times of the day, sound different - or different lines sound different or different groupings of stations - like the Runnymede to Lansdowne stretch, lots outside-inside parts vs. the deeper tunnels near Spadina.
If you steal my idea, just have the decency to send me a free copy.
Anyway, I digress.
The sounds that sometimes come out of the grinding metal or creaking rails is astounding. Sustained notes of anguish or lonliness or just perhaps, maybe...a Northbound Yonge-University line train trying to communicate with it's poor cousin, the East-bound Bloor-Danforth line train. Oh, what's that? You don't know why I would say such a thing? Well, just take a ride on the different lines one of these days and you'll see what I mean...even the seats are nicer (consistantly - perhaps not every single time, sometimes a good car slips through and the East-Westers get to ride on the shiny cars). You know I'm right.
Again, digressing.
I wonder what a collection of these recordings would sound like...maybe different times of the day, sound different - or different lines sound different or different groupings of stations - like the Runnymede to Lansdowne stretch, lots outside-inside parts vs. the deeper tunnels near Spadina.
If you steal my idea, just have the decency to send me a free copy.
what do ya need? what do ya got?
Simple question, really - it's too bad we rarely ever have a definite answer - at least one that will stand the test of time.
I work at an investment bank and I don't think people there have any other need than to make money. Not environmentally cooperative, but at least it's honest.
My friend Sue-Sue (the name she will go by on here) was telling me the other day that her workplace had some salsa lessons (mamba? something spicy, can't remember) going on in their cafeteria and I was confused - does your company offer free lessons? (--as I dreamed about finally being able to execute a spicy dance--) - she sarcastically replied with some insult about where I work (it's a weekly occurance, especially since so many lately have been so very responsible for so much heart ache!) - "free? we don't sell money here, you know!".
I corrected her.
We don't sell money, Sue-Sue, we sell dreams.
My dream was to work in the pet store downstairs in the concourse and rescue small animals that were not being bought by bringing them back to my home. But tomorrow it'll be something else.
I work at an investment bank and I don't think people there have any other need than to make money. Not environmentally cooperative, but at least it's honest.
My friend Sue-Sue (the name she will go by on here) was telling me the other day that her workplace had some salsa lessons (mamba? something spicy, can't remember) going on in their cafeteria and I was confused - does your company offer free lessons? (--as I dreamed about finally being able to execute a spicy dance--) - she sarcastically replied with some insult about where I work (it's a weekly occurance, especially since so many lately have been so very responsible for so much heart ache!) - "free? we don't sell money here, you know!".
I corrected her.
We don't sell money, Sue-Sue, we sell dreams.
My dream was to work in the pet store downstairs in the concourse and rescue small animals that were not being bought by bringing them back to my home. But tomorrow it'll be something else.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)