one more time.

I've jumped ship. Come find me at the National Hoax:
http://alextypical.tumblr.com/

by the way

this week is devoted to crazy.

WHOA WELCOME BACK!

I think I went to NY this weekend. I'm still not sure. The thing is I can't remember anything that happened yesterday, so like that guy in the movie that I might have seen, I'm forced to reconstruct my life with notes, and photos. So here's what I've got so far:


As far as I can tell this HAS to be NY I mean those animals are crazy, and if you watch tv most new yorkers seems bonkers right? The only thing that throws me off is that animals don't talk, and don't usually fly indoors at museums. So back to square one. But then I found this:
This can't be NY because New Yorkers, though bonkers (as I established before) never ever sleep. That's right, they are allergic to it. Duh. The flying animals seem to make more sense then the sleeping asshole on the rocks. What a dick fuck. Who does he think he/she is? I am supposed to be happy that I'm paying his taxes every year? No. Because I am not. That makes me so mad, I broke a fist punching my jumbo espresso mug. If this guy thinks he's gonna get a free ride, well, he's got another coming. Yessiree, this slacker should get ready for a stern talking to. Or a complaint in his complaint box - you just know he has one of those, attached to one of his "rocks." Is that even a real rock? It might look like one, but appearances often deceive. I once thought I was married, but it turned out I just owed a lot of money to the government and those people never lie. ANyway I don't know if I went to NY but I sure hate lazy bears, and tigers make me tired.

CUTLOOSE - THE INTERVIEW

Click here to read my interview with cutloose.

CUT LOOSE
[Lips, Reiner, Allison, Dickson]

The word is out
That rock is in
And everyone is banging heads again
You and your mates
You want it all
You take your place at the front of the concert hall
The house lights dim
The stage is set
You're gonna take all that you can get
All you can get
[Chorus]
Let's go crazy
Let's go insane
Me and the boys are rockin' out again
Cut loose
Everybody cut loose
Cut loose
Everybody cut loose
Turn it up
Start to grind
It's got the power to blow your mind
Raise a fist
Cuts through the air
Scream and yell, show me that you care
Show me you care
[Chorus]
Come feel the heat
And energy
Electric force sets your spirit free
Let it out
No holding back
Cutting loose, there's no turning back
No turning back
[Chorus]

REAL LIES

Well I'll be! Turns out we have a scanner in the house. Finally I'll be able to scan page, after page of my (word salad) poetry. You'll thank me when you're older. Builds character.
I called Cutloose today, and chatted with him about the sales biz. I should have an interview up on viceland tomorrow. I think I might take out the contact number, or not. I mean he probably wants people to call, but then he might find out about my questionable interview methods. I think he wants me to work for him now which isn't so bad considering my current state of affairs. WE'LL ALL LOOK BACK ON THIS AND LAUGH. OK?

JUST SPEED IT UP. YOU GOT A HIT!

I went to Value Village today and scored a copy of Chipmunk Punk. Did you know in the olden days they didn't know how to slogan? That's right, they used to refer to the Chipmunks in the following order: Simon, Theodore and Alvin. Or maybe they did it to fuck with your mind, and be all fuck you punk rock about it.

-You may have missed a great job opportunity this week. Luckily I'm here to scour the classifieds and find the gold:

TELEMARKETING METAL HEADS
I am a crazy boss who offers a crazy atmosphere. I am not stuck up just because I have a house, drive a nice car, and have the finer things in life.
I want people who are not normal society, sell-outs who don't want to work for the man, the suits, the people who think they are all that and more.
Come make $1000 a week listening to Slayer with me.
Call now-start now! 416-483-5275 ask for Cutloose

Don't bother calling today, Cutloose is out of the office. Don't worry I'll try my best to keep y'all posted on the Cutloose front - cut to me on the cover of the Sun "DERANGED YUPPIE METAL HEAD SEX CULT BUSTED!"

-Do any of you have any dieting books? Follow diets? I'm kind of fascinated by diets right now, and I'd love to learn more.

PRESIDENT WONDERFUL!

-The future is located in Illinois, right beside the Kentucky border.
-Bill Murray used to look like a confusing lesbian (crossed-eyed? caterpillars for brows?)
-Pizza has been turned into medication for dumb hippies with cash to blow (finally!)
(click for full genius)

UNDERWATER HOTEL

I enjoy tv shows set in California because there is always the possibility of people swimming, and I love watching rich people swim. This interest branches off into other fields such as swimming pools incorporated into bedrooms, and underwater hotels.

LIKE ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE

Do doctors expect honesty from their patients? Like when I tell my doctor that I have 8 drinks a week, does she multiply that by 3 to get a real sense of how badly I treat my body? Do doctors take a class in bullshit detection? I mean there's always a respected distance between you and your doctor, and sure maybe you're the type that doesn't mind revealing the dirty deeds. Regardless of your personal preference, I'm pretty sure doctors have a liars bump calculation (for the correct term please refer to the title of this post)
In other news, anyone else feel like running away? I hear birds chirping, I see snow melting, but I can't help but feel like unproductive-in-a-rut crap. Even my notes don't make any sense.
And what's with my hair?

YES I CAN.

Hey, fuck you! This rules.

MERCHANT OF DEATH

Hey! Some 22 year old got a $300m contract with the Pentagon to supply weapons to Afghan troops. Can you imagine how stressed out that guy must have been? Think of a small time pot dealer, and multiply that by pentagon and $300m.
Is there anything more fanciful than people in the arms business? These people aren't like us. They live dangerous, Romancing the Stonesque lives. Like that Merchant of Death guy, talk about baller. In fact that settles it, fucked up international rogues are my new fantasy. Sure they might act tough on the outside, but after a few dates you might find out he's an origami master, or has the ability to fly. Plus their stories must last for days. like intelligent, well spoken Rambos, with a side order of evil.

BEHIND THE TIMES, LOOKING FOR WORK

Did anyone else see the Darjeeling Ltd? I knew I was a little disappointed after Anderson's last foray into what the fuck characters, but I had some hope for this one. I was wrong. Sure it was pretty, but when you hear Owen Wilson say lines like "These people are beautiful" as he stares at some anonymous Indians, it ain't right. .Kind of like this article in the Times: How to survive in New York on 99 Cents. Yes it's true, poor people are poor,depressing, and they eat like shit. Gross.

"Another night, after amassing some brown rice and cans of bamboo shoots, water chestnuts and baby corn at Jack’s, I bought some Chinese broccoli off-site for a big stir-fry. For dessert each night we turned to the slightly wanton charms of the Little Debbie product line, particularly young Debbie’s Oatmeal Creme Pies, whose velvety filling so perfectly captures an imagined marriage between buttercream frosting and Noxzema."
It reads like one of those Progressive era pamphlets on Tenement living. Anyone? Eugenics? Anyone? Look into it. And maybe (if you're lucky) Theodore "Trust Buster" Roosevelt will become your favourite American president too!
In other news, that guy Christian Lander, the man behind "Stuff White People Like" is getting mentioned everywhere. Shit I read about him as I ate my weetabix this morning.

I interviewed him a while back for viceland. Check it here Somehow the skinhead weetabix ad seemed fitting.

STUFF I'M INTO RIGHT NOW

-Phrenology


-Cat scan machine gag in The Ten.

-Calico Cafe in Japan. Patrons can hang out with cats for a couple hours without having to deal with their constant nagging, and eventual betrayal.

The trailer for Righteous Kill. Is there anything better than rogue cops, badges, guns, Paci-Nero? No there isn't.

-Spring Break coverage on Much Music. It's so scandalous I have to change the channel in case my parents happen to walk by the tv room.

-12/21/2012 - My 28th birthday! I'm gonna love you. I'm gonna miss you.

NO THANKS FOR THINS.

You might not know this about me but I ride the subway. I also make a point of reading every single ad during my underground adventure, because I detest No Logo (suck on that Klein, and the year 2000). However my distaste for Logo just comes down to the fact that I'm petty and illogical. But then it happened: I was Shocked by the Cadbury Thins chocolate bar ad campaign. Did you know that Thins were voted best chocolate bar in 2007? Well enjoy your time in the sun Thins cos the only thing that was holding me back from an all out smear campaign was my geographic position, and I just got home.

Here's the problem with Thins ads, they all read like some piss poor attempt at Cosmo english. Manscaping? No one outside of some boardroom with a giant glass table covered in discarded starbucks wrappers, and forks with salad encrusted on the tines talks like that. Just cos you stayed up all night coming up with an idea doesn't make it good. You know why? Because I don't want to want to deserve chocolate like I'm some sort of snotnosed kid. MacLaren McCann you might think you get women, but you don't get me. You know why? Because I don't really like chocolate enough to buy it, and I hate unspoken bonds between women.

So Cadbury here's where we stand on me buying a Thins bar. First off it probably won't happen. Sorry, I'm into salty snacks, but you could consider a visceral attack on me, by say, showering me with bars as I walk down the street. OR you could put together an elaborate ruse involving a hypnotist à la Old Boy which would set off a chain of events relating every moment in my life to Thins bars. OR you could focus all your time and energy on constructing a time machine so that you could go back to those nine months in 1984 when my mom was pregnant with me and attempt to manipulate my genetic makeup so that nothing in my life will matter until the day I discover Thins. If you do that then maybe I'll be into your chocolate bar. Otherwise quit hogging the subway ad space, and let the old Sex guy tell me more about his return to the sex fold.
On a lighter note: Maroon 5 is back! I'm already reserving my tickets for Live Nation. What about you?

BALL DROPPED, PICKED UP, DEFLATED.

Back in Toronto only to discover that a favourite east-end fixture is no more:
One more brown Oldsmobile replaced by a Matrix.
I saw Teenanger on Saturday night. Steve, Gabe and I invented 2 new insults: dipbomb and lubeback. Usage:
Jerk 1:"F-you dipbomb!"
Jerk 2: "Who you calling dipbomb, lubeback?"
Funny no? Ask me about it in person and I will try my best to make it live.

Ate some ham last night. My mom and her friends want to do a boomer ladies club night, watching them churn out ideas for the party that will never happen was fun. It also conjured up bittersweet images in my head.

No big deal

So here I sit in an apartment in Austin with people I have never met, surrounded by dogs I have never met. No big deal. It's late and early all at once. I saw groups I'd never heard of. Took a bus unsure of where it would go. Drove 48 hours with someone I barely know. A time of bizarre firsts to compliment my confusing day to day. Can't explain. Well I guess I can, but this isn't the place...you know 6am and all. I drink whiskey and it makes sense, sort of. I miss lots of people. I really do. I guess that's why I'm here. I saw a midlife crisis the other day. Yellow Corvette, cigar, sense of entitlement. It was a sight to see. In Little Rock, Arkansas I saw a giant billboard that read JESUS. I was struck by its aplomb. Not that it convinced me, it was just clear.
What should I do?
Tomorrow is Motorhead, and more silliness. Everything's bigger in Texas I guess.

TOUCHÉ

I'm back in Toronto. Yes, after a 12 hour adventure through the skies, and U.S customs... Anyone else been there recently? Retina scans? Fingerprints? Yeesh. Philadelphia airport did not win any power points with that attitude, nosiree. Although the jerky cop scene was pretty amusing:

cop: hey bucko why you standing there?
Innocent passenger looking for his wife: ...
cop: Hey buddy! Buddy. Jesus Christ (huffin). Who the hell do you think you are?
Innocent passenger looking for his wife: ... (walks away)
cop: Fuck that guy. Whadja need sweetheart?
me: *swooooooooon* Nothing.

After some decent people watching and
bad movies (Bee Movie? What. The. Fuck? Litigious bees? What's next, Panda Army?) I landed in Toronto.
I need a few days to regroup and really get down to the nitty gritty. Last night at the Adidas shop really made realize that Paris has turned me into a party snob.
Adrienne and I came up with great company: MARKETING WORKS! or mktg wrks. More on that later. I need to do something. Blast this grey and dismal weather. Regret isn't a river in Egypt.

I'll leave you with this excellent film.

FRIDAY ZINGERS

I just bit into the worst apple of my career. Granular, pesticidal, soft. Awful, awful, awful.

But then this three-legged wonder showed up, and poof, apple disappointment gone.

RACIALARIOUS

It read like a classic Yellow journalism headline, but it was about bugs, so I tuned out, and went back to practicing my fake English accent.

LIDELL LIVES UP TO MY PERSONAL HYPE

I've seen Jamie Lidell twice in concert. The first time was at the Harbourfront Music Fest. His whole system crapped out midway through the set, but that didn't stop the rock, oh no, Lidell brushed it off with the nonchalance of 1950s cool guy. A few months later I saw him put on an excellent show at Lee's Palace (which will now be referred to as Lee's Paradise). In both cases I was taken aback by his charisma, and pyjamas.
I was certain that Lidell wouldn't disappoint in person. I was right. You know someone's on point if they can do bang on impersonations of every single Doobie brother, Phil Colins, and Lionel Richie. Damn. He's easy on the eyes too. I'll have my interview done today, but it'll be in French. I'll try and post the Anglo version.

WHO'S WITH ME ON THIS?

Wouldn't it to be great to wake up everyday with this kind of energy? I'm about 80% sure he's a human. But a case could be made for geriatric cyborg, or haggard, yet curiously happy, Hulk. Either way I'm convinced. I hope this man makes energy drinks because I want to live off them. I would also like to spend an entire day smashing things, and complaining about modern day foibles like "people don't wear hats like they used to" and "the pictures"

FASHION WEEK

Last week in Paris, and it's fashion week! The plan is to see how many glasses of champagne I can score because that's what it's all about. That and shit talk, lots and lots of shit talk.

NOT SO TERRIBLE

I was quick to judge this funny movie posters blog mostly because it didn't live up to its name. Fresh Prince of Persia? Really? Come on. But sometimes the shitball blogs drag me in (as well as those terrible "funny picture" sites that seem to recycle the same tired Russian cops wasted pics like they're some sort of ancient currency), and I can't help but check out their wares. Anyway I was pleasantly surprised to discover this gem:
What an excellent premise for a film. Is there anything better than imagining curious bears roaming around a submarine? Sure they're ferocious, and would run amok killing all those aboard, but there's something Biblical about it. A bloodier, less impossible version of Noah's Ark. Ok maybe not, but a version of this should be made with bear suits. Gorillas on a submarine could also work.

YESTERDAY: RAD. TODAY: WRECKED

I'm really happy my expression turned out exactly the way I wanted.

MUSIC VIDEO PITCH

Artist: Sébastien Tellier
Song: Roche
Setting: Rainy Parisian street / Biarritz en été
So this is one is based on the classic John Carpenter film They Live if you haven't seen it the premise is pretty simple. The main character finds a pair of sunglasses that allows him to see the aliens that have enslaved the world. Got that? Good.
So, same sort of thing, except this time, Sebastien finds a pair of sunglasses while walking down a street in Paris. Every time he puts on the sunglasses he's on a fuck beach in Biarritz. The kind of beach where experimental 30-40-50 year olds go to rekindle the romance. At first Tellier freaks - is he losing it? hell no! So after the initial "what the fuck" he gets into it, and starts wandering around this imaginary beach where women keep throwing themselves at him / cuts to the reality of the Parisian street.
Please refer your questions to the comments section. Thank you.

HOW IT'S MADE

So we start with this:

I thought you might appreciate these live action Don'ts from the Raw Spirit Festival in Arizona. If you're unfamiliar with this annual hippie gathering, seriously, where have you been? It's only the "World's Biggest Meeting Place for Raw Veganism and Eco-Sustainable Solutions!" Enjoy!
TOM

And then I propose this:

You guys love ripping into people for what they wear, and it saddens me. Why can't you open your spirit up a little? Anyway, I wanted to let your readers know about the Raw Spirit Festival. People from around the world come together to celebrate Gaia, and living a sustainable life.
Good vibes and love,
TOM

It became:

Here are some live action Don'ts from the Raw Spirit Festival in Arizona. It's the world's biggest celebration of raw veganism, world music and eco-peace.
Groovy,
TOM

PAIN AU CHOCOLAME

Hollywood mythmakers, French bakers, and Proustian childhood memories have lead people to believe that France is a bastion of hope when it comes to baked good. I won't disagree, but I would like to warn others about the reality of the situation. On my walk to work I pass at least 6 bakeries. Although I haven't been to every single one I'm pretty sure that 75% of them make some weak ass Pain au Chocolat's, or chocolate croissants (pronounced kre-sants) for all y'all erudite readers. How do you know if you've been had? As soon as you bite into the pain you note the dryness, lack of crunch, and overly salty dough. Also note: appearances deceive when it comes to pain au chocolats. Just because it looks small doesn't mean it won't pack that buttery punch you've been searching for. Oh and if it looks a little squashed, odds are you've hit a goldmine, or a butter mine (!)

This video pretty much sums up a everything I just said except it glosses over a few things including: most women running bakeries are fat, old, and rarely smile. There is also very little singing in France, but leisure suits remain the norm.

GRATUITOUS

I need a job.

MUSIC VIDEO PITCH

This one needs to get made.
Song: Shattered
Artist: The Rolling Stones
Setting: Doctor's office
Mick rolls in, distraught. He's worried he's caught something cos he's a fuck machine. His doctor (Keith Richards - smoke in mouth, aloof) listens to Mick 'splainin' his love troubles, and takes notes. That's it.

WORK IN PROGRESS

I had a late night at the office a few nights ago - actually this whole week, but whatever these things happen. By 9pm I'd had enough. And I came up with a story that I want to turn into a major motion picture / youtube video.
Pitch:
(setting: dreary office cubicle - classic!)
Cody and Neil have been cubicle-mates for years. They might know each other, but these two aren't friends. Instead of railing against the institution that has enslaved them and stolen their manhood, Cody and Neil have chosen to channel their rage toward each other.
Today's confrontation: Glass of Oil
Neil: What the fuck Cody?
Cody: Neil I refuse to be spoken to like that. This is supposed to be a professional environment. Just wait til I tell Mr. Wickersham
Neil: Wickersham is a dick. Wait. What the fuck is that?
Cody: What?
Neil: In your mug. Is that oil?
Cody:[sheepishly] Yeah Neil [nervous laugh] I drink glasses of oil because it tastes good, and reminds me of my grandmother. That makes sense.
Neil: Holy shit. You officially became the quiet neighbour. I mean I always knew you were a weird guy, what with the hentai, chapped lips, clammy hands, but this? This takes the cake.
Cody: FINE. I drink oil. I. Drink. Oil.
Neil: Give me back my pen.

METHYLPHENIDATE

A few months ago I interviewed Prefuse 73 and he gave me a bunch of bizarro meds- real shit if you will. You know the kind of drugs that get served to you by a man in a lab coat, not by an overweight has-been who can't play guitar, or whatever. Today I sampled Daytrana. A patch for kids with ADHD.
So, have I become an overachiever? Wellllllllllll, I did manage to edit my interviews, perfect my intros, and do my usual busy work. It didn't however turn me into an Aryan ass-kiss as featured on the Daytrana website. It also made me irritable, and a liar. You see, I'm still not done all my work, and for some reason I felt compelled to write this. How on earth will children be saved with this godforsaken hip sticker? Back to the drawing board.
I will recommend Provigil because that one turned me into a cheery party machine.

It's official

The glamour is officially dead.
Note the red face-at work beer (way to concentrate), the dead eyes, the bad skin, shit lighting. I need to do something quick. Party? Yes, please.

MY HEAD HURTS

This:

Or this:

Paris wins sexy points, but NY has a certain dipshit swagger that I can't get enough of. Any thoughts?

Oh shit, we can't forget this option:

DISPOSABLE INCOME

I was cruising the web today, and I discovered my new favourite doll collector, Dolores. She has an outstanding collection, and shoots her dolls in a grey, dismal light that connotes serial killing, depression, and divorce-actually that's a bit harsh, but there is something unnerving about solitary dolls and bad lighting. I was taken by the Nancy Reagan doll, and her uncanny resemblance to Rexella Van Impe. Don't think for a second that this isn't on purpose.

MY OWN PERSONAL TIPPING POINT

In regards to the latest Vanity Farm post I'd like to take minor credit for Pinky's use of charlatan. Yes, I'm that guy. Right here, right now. You know why? Cos I'm in the process of hunting down one of the greatest modern day charlatans, Jim Callahan. Master magician, and founder of Applied Thought Technologies. I'm close too. He wrote me back on Monday, unfortunately I was bogged down with the latest issue of the magazine, so I haven't had the chance to pose my questions - which are great by the way. Where the hell did my humility go? Apparently sleeping in on a weekday turns me into Mick Jagger on a coke binge circa 1978 - relatively speaking.
There was a party on saturday.
Some chumps stole a giant bottle of vodka...
This guy passed out around 9pm. What an animal!

PISS STINK AND TOURISTS : LE METRO DE PARIS

Whenever I have friends in town for a visit (like once, but fuck it that totally qualifies as a trend) I don't pick 'em up, I make then take the RER/Metro. The first thing they always say is "my god the piss stench is overwhelming in the metro" and I just shake my head, smile like an asshole and say "yes, you foolish tourist pig, the Parisian metro doesn't give a cu-de-rat about your precious olfactory system" But they're right, the piss stench cannot be ignored. The kind of smell that blasts you in the face, like when you happen to walk into the public library bathroom right before close, and all the hobos (hobettes??) are in the middle of their toilette. I remember being confronted by similar odors in the NYC subway, but not to the conversational level of Paris. One major source of stink is the metro clodo (French for hobo). While the RATP tries its best to make life difficult for the metro clodo (imaginative seat design, cops with dogs, children) they still manage to set up shop and harass the jerks. And seeing as they couldn't give a fuck about fuck, the metro is one big giant toilet for them. But let's make one thing clear, everyone thinks the metro is a giant toilet at their disposal (old habits die hard). Point is all the old urine flowing through the drain system in the metro makes for a visceral affront to one's nose. Alright it's probably not that bad, compared to a slum after an afternoon rainstorm in the middle of summer, but it's pretty awful.

SEXUAL SPORTSWEAR

Oh wow, as if this song wasn't cool enough, now there's a sleazy video directed by Guy Manuel de HOMEM-CHRISTO to add to the sexy mess. Haters begone. Sexual Sportswear isn't boring, it's perfect. The Vice UK reviewer was all wrong, but sometimes French sexualité makes people uncomfortable.

NEW HAT. SAME DREAM.

Ah winter in Paris. Gusts of wind, and so many rain variations. A personal favourite is the fog spritzer. Not heavy enough to make you hide, but just enough to make opening your eyes difficult and grimaces aplenty. This morning it was a light shower, though drops were perceptible. Luckily the market beside my place was a bustlin' so I decided to buy myself a new hat.
It might not look like it, but I'm really happy with my new chapeau. Will it replace trusty pink beret? I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

FAMOUS SUNGLASSES

REASON 130578291 THE APOCALYPSE ISN'T SUCH A TERRIBLE THING

What is he teaching a great course at the community college How To Disappoint Your Parents 101? It's not that I condone physical violence, but don't you feel like smacking this dingus upside the head and/or enlisting him?


At least there's this kind of thing to counterbalance the horror.

BACK IN FRANCE

Ok so I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'm an unreliable ghost friend. Yep, that plucky, loveable(?), go-getter has been replaced with a lazy, unfriendly, traphound (don't know what that means, well neither do I. Chances are it's slutty, or drug related? waitaminute!) Which brings me to the point
NEW WORDS THAT SOUND KIND OF GROSS TO BE USED AT LEAST ONE TIME IN 2008
Traphound
Curdlemuncher
Bramblebrowser
Trimzelate
See just like that you can sound weird and smart because I just made like a real life fake balderdash game for you. Now you don't have to hate me. It's like the greatest present of all, well other than a Dune buggy holiday adventure in the sun.
Maybe tomorrow I'll write something real.