february, 2006
the night of the north toronto fashion show.
myself, fitch, gott, shaun, and a guy named freudman were making our way downtown for an all ages party at some club. fitch had already had a bit to drink during halftime and the rest of us were just a little buzzed. walking towards the subway we decided fitch should be cut off. he didn't like that very much though so he an away onto young street and into oncoming traffic. we couldn't get the 26 of captain morgan's white rum away from him and although he was with us the whole time, he wouldn't let any of us get near him. i danked a bottle of wine on the ride down and everyone else drank too so we were quite smashed (keep in mind this was a few years ago). fitch continued to sit by himself and protect his 26 for the entire ride. we got onto a streetcar and i managed to get the cap of the bottle away from him. he didn't seem to notice though because every time he took a drink he would first unscrew the imaginary cap, and then put it back on. this is an excellent example of how drunk he really was.
we got to the club and were waiting in this big ass line when we decided to leave because of the huge wait. we tried to get fitch to come too but he wouldn't. so we started to drag him away. after a very long and tedious time getting fitch to this parking lot we realized that shaun was missing and so gott went to find him. so there i am, in this parking lot with fitch, who at this point is passing in and out of consciousness. gott comes back with campbell and we drag fitch to try and get a cab. somewhere in the rocess he grabs a wire from a green p sign and rips it out. so now there's a live wire jumping around in front of this bar and people are scrambling to get out of the way. we try to get fitch a cab but he's too drunk so we get a cop to call us an ambulance. at this point fitch is on the sidewalk passed out and covered in his own piss and i am no longer drunk. turns out seeing your friend get alcohol poisoning is quite the buzz kill. the ambulance gets there and after many jokes at fitch's expense they get him onto the stretcher and he throws up. gott goes with him to the hospital and calls his dad who thinks it's a prank call. the next morning fitch wakes up in a diaper.
so after they leave, campbell and i go back to the club and get in because the line is so small. inside, i run into none other than lois einhorn himself. i tell him about fitch and we have a good laugh. at some point in the night i find campbell at the bar with blood all over his face. turns out he got sucker punched by some asshole and then kicked in the face repeatedly by a group of people. i'm still not sure why but whatever. so i leave with campbell and he goes to the hospital to get stitches (not the same hospital though).
if your wondering where freudman was in all this. he stayed at the club until closing and then jogged home. yes jogged.
i don't drink rum anymore
girv
Day 10: The Thirteen Commandments
over the course of my life i have developed a dynamic list of commandments which i follow. without getting too much into it here they are:
1. Anything worth taking seriously is worth making fun of.
this rule means that no situation has to be serious and that the answer to any problem is a good attitude and a little humor. as george carlin said "even rape can be funny"
2. A weekend wasted is not a wasted weekend
one time in first year i was walking down morris st. and this drunk kid yelled this at me out a window. and he was right.
3. Obey all laws (except the ones you don't believe in)
i've always thought that laws were more like guidelines. i don't not kill people because it's against the law. i don't kill people because i think it would be a huge dick move. i park in legal parking spaces because i realize that illegal parking spaces are illegal for a reason and because i don't want to pay a fine. your morals are more important than anything else you could posses.
4. Someday your life will flash before your eyes, make it worth watching
live for the moment, and make sure every instant of your live is exciting and thrilling. that's what it's all about after all.
5. Don’t buy a car you can’t push
besides the literal meaning this tells us not to get too far over our heads and to never put ourselves in a position we can't get out of
6. The unaimed arrow cannot miss
if you don't try you cannot fail. i'm not saying don't try, i'm just trying to impose my minimalist mentality on the world.
7. Go wherever the world takes you (except to mr. sub)
just let it happen. unless it's mr sub. that place fuckin sucks.
8. Don’t quit on the team, just enjoy it while you lose
no matter how badly they are (the leafs), you should always stand by your team and never ever boo. for any reason.
9. Einstein was no Girvan
self explanatory
10. Chill
just chill
11. Eagles may soar but weasels don’t get caught in jet engines
just because someone is better than you, it doesn't make them better than you
12. Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened
don't get hung up on the past. the future is much more important.
13. Never swing on the Girv-Cirv.
the most important of all commandments. if i even began to explain this to you your head would most likely explode.
so this is the end
girv
Day 9: No, Not Like a Power Drill
hey ho, i realize that yesterday's entry was a fucking essay but i just had so much to say. hence the blog. i'll try to keep this one short.
june 26, 2006.
myself, gott, rabbot, malcolm and wes went to a jays game and were sitting in section 524A in one of the farthest rows back. we had been drinking (a lot), and were doing pretty well drunkwise. strangely, i've been to many jay's games but this was the only time i actually went drunk. i know this seems crazy and the boys at DJF would be ashamed but i have no excuse or explanation so i'll just move on.
we were playing the mets and we were chirping pretty well. i had a good one on julio franco but that's not the point. soon after the game started a cop came up to us and told us that he was "all for the hootin' and hollerin'[yes in those exact words] but wee're getting complaits and you guys need to keep it sown or i'll have to ask you to leave". don't ask me why but we were convinced that the bald guy five rows ahead of us was the one who complained so gott decided to tell him to get a "chromedomeium". i don't know what that is either but i don't think he appreciated it and yada yada yada we were on the TTC.
those of you not from toronto and some of you who are have probably never heard the radio station Q107 but every weekday morning they have what they call a "tool of the day". apparently the bald man we (gott) were heckling was none other than beloved toronto voice man andy frost. well, frost told the boys at the morning show and they thought it was pretty stupid so, seeing as they make their living on stupid, we became the "tools of the day". this may be my greatest claim to fame.
tune in next time
girv
june 26, 2006.
myself, gott, rabbot, malcolm and wes went to a jays game and were sitting in section 524A in one of the farthest rows back. we had been drinking (a lot), and were doing pretty well drunkwise. strangely, i've been to many jay's games but this was the only time i actually went drunk. i know this seems crazy and the boys at DJF would be ashamed but i have no excuse or explanation so i'll just move on.
we were playing the mets and we were chirping pretty well. i had a good one on julio franco but that's not the point. soon after the game started a cop came up to us and told us that he was "all for the hootin' and hollerin'[yes in those exact words] but wee're getting complaits and you guys need to keep it sown or i'll have to ask you to leave". don't ask me why but we were convinced that the bald guy five rows ahead of us was the one who complained so gott decided to tell him to get a "chromedomeium". i don't know what that is either but i don't think he appreciated it and yada yada yada we were on the TTC.
those of you not from toronto and some of you who are have probably never heard the radio station Q107 but every weekday morning they have what they call a "tool of the day". apparently the bald man we (gott) were heckling was none other than beloved toronto voice man andy frost. well, frost told the boys at the morning show and they thought it was pretty stupid so, seeing as they make their living on stupid, we became the "tools of the day". this may be my greatest claim to fame.
tune in next time
girv
Day 8: I'm Henry, Clay Henry
it's been awhile since we talked baseball and considering it's 15 days until pitchers and catchers report to spring training (think about that: pitchers... and catchers) i thought i'd wet all of your appetites with this nugget from our friends over at DJF.
so...
in march of 2001 i experienced one of the most life-altering moments of my life. i bit into a subway sandwich for the very first time. it was lunch hour at the great deer park. a school which has spawned such greats as: girv, lois, and that is all (yes, i realize many of our faithful readers went there as well). but i digress, it was suggested that we go to subway for lunch and i was a bit skeptical. at this point in my life i hadn't yet had my sideburns cut off and wasn't all that open to new experiences. but i went and ordered a six inch roast beef on hearty italian with cheese, lettuce and mayo. i do realize that this is rather plain but i was new and didn't quite know what i was getting into.
the woman who owned the subway on young just north of st. clair was a very nice asian woman named debbie. she got to know us pretty well after we became regulars and we were all happy.
after enjoying the sub my parents decided that they would fund daily subs because they saw it as an opportunity for me to get a healthy meal every day. if you don't yet understand the irony of this situation you will soon. after eating the roast beef for awhile i started adding bacon to it. this would prove to be a major breakthrough in my subway career.
after grade eight i moved to NT and we found a new subway on the way to fitch's house. we would go to subway and get lunch, then move on to the fitch household and watch a movie and eat our very satisfying submarines. our new spot had another very nice woman for a manager, i don't remember her name but one of the employees on her staff bared a striking resemblance to captain morgan. i shit you not, he was a fucking pirate.
by this time i was getting footlong BLTs, sometimes with extra bacon. get it now? i was in my prime, eating good (sort of), friendly with the staff, and enjoying having the same thing for lunch everyday.
at the start of grade ten we made a life-altering choice. we decided to start going to the other subway. this subway was our rival, i once had a twenty dollar bill that was counterfeit (no, i didn't make it). i got rid of it by buying a sub from them. we spent some time discussing whether or not to move. in the end we did and that's when we met tony. the manager of the new subway.
tony became our greatest manager yet, we were on a first name basis and i could walk into the place order "the usual" and sit at "our table". it was heaven, every day at 11:40.
our tenure at tony's was the longest and certainly most eventful of my career. we had a core group of five: me, gott, fitch, rabbot, and sean (the one from the girvan ouch). others would come and go but we were the core.
i remember on what i have come to know as "Black Monday" tony informed me that the head office had stopped sending him hearty italian bread. i may have cried a little. another poor day was when they discontinued the sub-club cards. at one point i had 22 full cards, that's 88 feet of BLT.
there were more bright spots than dark though. i remember when chicken parmesan was brought in and i finally switched to: footlong chicken strips (breaded) with bacon, shredded cheese, lettuce, onions, mayo, and honey garlic on italian herbs and cheese. yummers. the woman who made my lunch everyday was fantastic, i can't remember her name but i remember once tony was about to make my sub but got her to do it because he didn't want to ruin my lunch. oh that tony.
on the last day of grade twelve i got tony to sign my yearbook. i haven't seen him since.
fuck mr sub
girv
so...
in march of 2001 i experienced one of the most life-altering moments of my life. i bit into a subway sandwich for the very first time. it was lunch hour at the great deer park. a school which has spawned such greats as: girv, lois, and that is all (yes, i realize many of our faithful readers went there as well). but i digress, it was suggested that we go to subway for lunch and i was a bit skeptical. at this point in my life i hadn't yet had my sideburns cut off and wasn't all that open to new experiences. but i went and ordered a six inch roast beef on hearty italian with cheese, lettuce and mayo. i do realize that this is rather plain but i was new and didn't quite know what i was getting into.
the woman who owned the subway on young just north of st. clair was a very nice asian woman named debbie. she got to know us pretty well after we became regulars and we were all happy.
after enjoying the sub my parents decided that they would fund daily subs because they saw it as an opportunity for me to get a healthy meal every day. if you don't yet understand the irony of this situation you will soon. after eating the roast beef for awhile i started adding bacon to it. this would prove to be a major breakthrough in my subway career.
after grade eight i moved to NT and we found a new subway on the way to fitch's house. we would go to subway and get lunch, then move on to the fitch household and watch a movie and eat our very satisfying submarines. our new spot had another very nice woman for a manager, i don't remember her name but one of the employees on her staff bared a striking resemblance to captain morgan. i shit you not, he was a fucking pirate.
by this time i was getting footlong BLTs, sometimes with extra bacon. get it now? i was in my prime, eating good (sort of), friendly with the staff, and enjoying having the same thing for lunch everyday.
at the start of grade ten we made a life-altering choice. we decided to start going to the other subway. this subway was our rival, i once had a twenty dollar bill that was counterfeit (no, i didn't make it). i got rid of it by buying a sub from them. we spent some time discussing whether or not to move. in the end we did and that's when we met tony. the manager of the new subway.
tony became our greatest manager yet, we were on a first name basis and i could walk into the place order "the usual" and sit at "our table". it was heaven, every day at 11:40.
our tenure at tony's was the longest and certainly most eventful of my career. we had a core group of five: me, gott, fitch, rabbot, and sean (the one from the girvan ouch). others would come and go but we were the core.
i remember on what i have come to know as "Black Monday" tony informed me that the head office had stopped sending him hearty italian bread. i may have cried a little. another poor day was when they discontinued the sub-club cards. at one point i had 22 full cards, that's 88 feet of BLT.
there were more bright spots than dark though. i remember when chicken parmesan was brought in and i finally switched to: footlong chicken strips (breaded) with bacon, shredded cheese, lettuce, onions, mayo, and honey garlic on italian herbs and cheese. yummers. the woman who made my lunch everyday was fantastic, i can't remember her name but i remember once tony was about to make my sub but got her to do it because he didn't want to ruin my lunch. oh that tony.
on the last day of grade twelve i got tony to sign my yearbook. i haven't seen him since.
fuck mr sub
girv
Day 7: Just Like Salame
it's no accident that i didn't post this yesterday. i was going to but i was lazy and in true Blidlife fashion just didn't get around to it.
somewhere around the age of 13 i went to brampton to visit my cousin who had built a plane and flew it out of the brampton airport. it was a red two seater which he spent ten years building from a kit. i sat in the passenger seat and we flew around for awhile and i even got to fly the plane a little. afterwords i went to get a haircut and the guy cut my sideburns off. not short, off. just like in episode 4 of season 1 of Tim and Eric.
that was painless
girv
somewhere around the age of 13 i went to brampton to visit my cousin who had built a plane and flew it out of the brampton airport. it was a red two seater which he spent ten years building from a kit. i sat in the passenger seat and we flew around for awhile and i even got to fly the plane a little. afterwords i went to get a haircut and the guy cut my sideburns off. not short, off. just like in episode 4 of season 1 of Tim and Eric.
that was painless
girv
The 100th Post
That's right ladies and gentlemen. this is the 100th post on Blidlife, a historic day in our proud history. there are many people who should be thanked by the writers of this fine blog but on a personal note i would like to thank my partner in crime lois einhorn. as a homage to lois here are a couple of his posts which never got posted:
Educated Opinions
Good afternoon,
A Few Words About Going Dumb
Good afternoon fine blidlifer's..Lois here, just having on a perse airport styles, enjoying the perks of free internet and overpriced food..but enough about my plight, lets talk about going dumb.
and here are some people we would like to thank for other things:
AA-for the tunes
bambu-for paper
chron-for inspiration
david attenborough-for planet earth
fitch-for providing us with nuff material to write about
gott/campbell-for putting up with all my shit
mac dre-for hyphy
monica-for making Blidlife her homepage before i did
patty-for persey
rasho-for obvious reasons
shyssa/parkes-for believing without knowing who we are
tim/eric-for give us someone to look up to
wes-for the mess
willies-for sustenance
if we've left anyone out it's not because we don't like you, it's because we just forgot and it's not my fault. if you feel deserving of thanks please thank yourself in the comments section.
here's to you guys
girv
Educated Opinions
Good afternoon,
So after having a very relaxing morning, and a fun time in class(yea thats right). I came home to catch up on some serious social networking...So i logged on, checked my facebook, and then something caught my eye...Someones status update featured a link to a blog, and then said and i quote "This guy is a huge dick, rape his blog"...So to quell my curiousity, I clicked the link, and read through it...I soon discovered that this blog was done by a bereaved parent who was attempting to change legislation regarding drinking and driving..And then in somewhat of a blind rage, it came to me...That the person who was commenting on the blog author being a dick was a fucking idiot(pardon my swearing)
This brought back to me, a revelation which I had previously, and promptly forgot. That those who are smug, and believe that they are smart and educated on a topic, usually are knuckleheads. Especially those who have dropped out of school, and believe that they are learing "street knowledge" and are smarter than everyone else due to the fact that they were too proverbially
A Few Words About Going Dumb
Good afternoon fine blidlifer's..Lois here, just having on a perse airport styles, enjoying the perks of free internet and overpriced food..but enough about my plight, lets talk about going dumb.
Going dumb, the term used to describe when someone is in a state of utter and complete ruckus.
and here are some people we would like to thank for other things:
AA-for the tunes
bambu-for paper
chron-for inspiration
david attenborough-for planet earth
fitch-for providing us with nuff material to write about
gott/campbell-for putting up with all my shit
mac dre-for hyphy
monica-for making Blidlife her homepage before i did
patty-for persey
rasho-for obvious reasons
shyssa/parkes-for believing without knowing who we are
tim/eric-for give us someone to look up to
wes-for the mess
willies-for sustenance
if we've left anyone out it's not because we don't like you, it's because we just forgot and it's not my fault. if you feel deserving of thanks please thank yourself in the comments section.
here's to you guys
girv
Day 6: The Birth of Fear
first off, i'm not sure what's going on here but although i agree whole-heartedly with what the post had to say i was not responsible for the post about jose. now this is starting to get weird. oh well.
although i can't remember when this happened exactly i can tell you that i was seven years old. my bed was fairly low to the ground and beside the head of my bed was a radiator which i used as a bed-side table. this wasn't very economical though because the top of the radiator was about a foot and a half above my bed.
one night i was playing with some silly putty when my mom told me to go to sleep. being the good, obedient child that i was i put the putty on the radiator and dozed off. i tend to move around a lot when i sleep and sometimes roll over. once i even woke up with my head at the foot of my bed having turned all the way around in my sleep.
i guess the silly putty fell off the rad and landed on my pillow only to have me roll over onto it because when i woke up i had a huge clump of putty stuck in my hair. for reasons i can't remember i didn't want my parents to know so i put on a tuque and pretended that i had hit my head and it was a harmless bump. this was an obvious lie because the lump stuck out about an inch.
luckily my mom cut the putty out of my hair. however, this left me with a bald spot on the side of my head. this can be quite traumatizing for a kid at such a young age. a few days later i went to the barber and had my hair cut to the same length as the spot which turned out to be a #4 buzz. from that day right up until this summer that was the only haircut i would get. i probably sub-consciously didn't want my hair to get any longer for fear of what might happen to it. but that fear is nothing compared to the other fear which was instilled in me by this traumatic experience.
even today i feel very nervous around silly putty and haven't touched any since that day.
now you know my darkest fear
girv
although i can't remember when this happened exactly i can tell you that i was seven years old. my bed was fairly low to the ground and beside the head of my bed was a radiator which i used as a bed-side table. this wasn't very economical though because the top of the radiator was about a foot and a half above my bed.
one night i was playing with some silly putty when my mom told me to go to sleep. being the good, obedient child that i was i put the putty on the radiator and dozed off. i tend to move around a lot when i sleep and sometimes roll over. once i even woke up with my head at the foot of my bed having turned all the way around in my sleep.
i guess the silly putty fell off the rad and landed on my pillow only to have me roll over onto it because when i woke up i had a huge clump of putty stuck in my hair. for reasons i can't remember i didn't want my parents to know so i put on a tuque and pretended that i had hit my head and it was a harmless bump. this was an obvious lie because the lump stuck out about an inch.
luckily my mom cut the putty out of my hair. however, this left me with a bald spot on the side of my head. this can be quite traumatizing for a kid at such a young age. a few days later i went to the barber and had my hair cut to the same length as the spot which turned out to be a #4 buzz. from that day right up until this summer that was the only haircut i would get. i probably sub-consciously didn't want my hair to get any longer for fear of what might happen to it. but that fear is nothing compared to the other fear which was instilled in me by this traumatic experience.
even today i feel very nervous around silly putty and haven't touched any since that day.
now you know my darkest fear
girv
Go Dumb Fridays
Every Friday I will post a next yay area musician to broaden your horizons to the wonderful word of the purp.
Today, well focus on the Pack
Next mens coming correct on a gang of tracks
and my personal favourite, Dum Ditty Dum
Thizz In Peace Mac Dreezy
your cutty,
Young Lois
Day 5: Dolla Dolla Bills Yall
april, 2000.
my pal alex and i would walk down to the local beckers every day to get a froster and possibly some other candies (ie. jaw breakers, monster truck wheels, fizz, warhammers, and vanilla coke). one day i found a twenty dollar bill on the floor and alex and i began discussing the merits of keeping or turning in the money. alex convinced me to turn in the money and come back the next day to see if anyone came to get it. if not, i would take it back. so we gave the bill to the woman at the counter who we trusted and saw every day. the next day we came back and she seemed to have forgotten the whole incident and the suddenly remembered and said in what i can only describe as a lying tone that someone had claimed it. as i walked out of there with my froster and my not twenty dollars i realized that i had been taken for the proverbial "ride".
if there's one thing i've leaned from the movie cocktail is that there are two kinds of people in this world. the workers and the hustlers. the hustlers never work and the workers never hustle. this particular experience has made me into a hustler, and if this hadn't have happened there's no telling how much shit i would have put up with for all these years. usually you can't put a price on character building experiences, but twenty bucks is pretty good. even for a cheap bastard like myself.
never drink a red eye
girv
my pal alex and i would walk down to the local beckers every day to get a froster and possibly some other candies (ie. jaw breakers, monster truck wheels, fizz, warhammers, and vanilla coke). one day i found a twenty dollar bill on the floor and alex and i began discussing the merits of keeping or turning in the money. alex convinced me to turn in the money and come back the next day to see if anyone came to get it. if not, i would take it back. so we gave the bill to the woman at the counter who we trusted and saw every day. the next day we came back and she seemed to have forgotten the whole incident and the suddenly remembered and said in what i can only describe as a lying tone that someone had claimed it. as i walked out of there with my froster and my not twenty dollars i realized that i had been taken for the proverbial "ride".
if there's one thing i've leaned from the movie cocktail is that there are two kinds of people in this world. the workers and the hustlers. the hustlers never work and the workers never hustle. this particular experience has made me into a hustler, and if this hadn't have happened there's no telling how much shit i would have put up with for all these years. usually you can't put a price on character building experiences, but twenty bucks is pretty good. even for a cheap bastard like myself.never drink a red eye
girv
Day 4: Survival
in july of 2004 i went on a month-long canoe trip with seven other guys. it was a hell of a time and we saw some crazy shit. in fact, on day seven one of the guys, jerry, actually went crazy. but that's not the point. our trip was cut short a few days by an unfortunate incident.
on day 14 we came to a fairly easy set of rapids which ended in a ten foot drop which we had no desire to go over. this drop was followed by a frothy set with lots of standing waves. myself and pope (my sternsman) went first and portaged around the drop i then went back to tell everyone else to go and make sure they were ok. the first boat came down easily but then i saw an overturned boat come around the corner. i remember remarking to the guys in the other boat how funny it was that those idiots dumped on such a joke of a set. i remeber then realizing that the boat and all the shit that was in it was about to go over the drop. i ran like a motherfucker down that trail and pope and i paddled out to try and catch all the shit. but we were too late and the stuff was lost. luckily there was a campsite at the end of the portage and we were able to asses what we had lost. here's a list of what we were missing:
pack 1:
2 people's dry sacks (all their shit)
2 days worth of meals
pack 2:
full of food
pack 3:
all three tents
both tarps
both cooking grills
and the boat of course.
that night two guys went down the river to find the shit and the rest of us built a shelter with a small tarp that we had and canoes. this was the worst sleep of my life. the bugs were rampant (northern quebec in july=balls), it was very hot and we were sleeping on rock that was covered in ash because it had just been the site of a most vicious forest fire. the next day the two guys came back and said they had found the boat. we went to that site and also found packs one and two. when we were searching for pack 3 we realized that none of the items in the pack would float and it became evident that the pack had sunk to the bottom of the river somewhere. the 15th night i slept by myself under a canoe and had a great sleep. the next night we camped beside a huge waterfall (shown below) and i built a shelter (shown below that). i slept under a canoe twice more and on the last day it started to rain. there were no campsites to be found anywhere and it was about 5 degrees C and very wet. we were all cold as fuck and had no tents or campsites to build shelters. luckily, blake, a man i am forever indebted to, saw a small cabin in the woods where we could stay. it was a plywood box about eight feet square. it had a cot, a counter, and a dismanteled wood stove. we tried to get the stove working but let me just say that duct tape does not go well with heat and smells fucking aweful when it burns. the next day we arrived at james bay and the town of waskaganish (the chlamydia capital of north america).
the lesson here is never put all your tents in one pack. which is not to be confused with "never put all your eggs in one basket". seriously though, it's a totally different concept.
and remember not to ever burn duct tape,
ever.
girv
on day 14 we came to a fairly easy set of rapids which ended in a ten foot drop which we had no desire to go over. this drop was followed by a frothy set with lots of standing waves. myself and pope (my sternsman) went first and portaged around the drop i then went back to tell everyone else to go and make sure they were ok. the first boat came down easily but then i saw an overturned boat come around the corner. i remember remarking to the guys in the other boat how funny it was that those idiots dumped on such a joke of a set. i remeber then realizing that the boat and all the shit that was in it was about to go over the drop. i ran like a motherfucker down that trail and pope and i paddled out to try and catch all the shit. but we were too late and the stuff was lost. luckily there was a campsite at the end of the portage and we were able to asses what we had lost. here's a list of what we were missing:
pack 1:
2 people's dry sacks (all their shit)
2 days worth of meals
pack 2:
full of food
pack 3:
all three tents
both tarps
both cooking grills
and the boat of course.
that night two guys went down the river to find the shit and the rest of us built a shelter with a small tarp that we had and canoes. this was the worst sleep of my life. the bugs were rampant (northern quebec in july=balls), it was very hot and we were sleeping on rock that was covered in ash because it had just been the site of a most vicious forest fire. the next day the two guys came back and said they had found the boat. we went to that site and also found packs one and two. when we were searching for pack 3 we realized that none of the items in the pack would float and it became evident that the pack had sunk to the bottom of the river somewhere. the 15th night i slept by myself under a canoe and had a great sleep. the next night we camped beside a huge waterfall (shown below) and i built a shelter (shown below that). i slept under a canoe twice more and on the last day it started to rain. there were no campsites to be found anywhere and it was about 5 degrees C and very wet. we were all cold as fuck and had no tents or campsites to build shelters. luckily, blake, a man i am forever indebted to, saw a small cabin in the woods where we could stay. it was a plywood box about eight feet square. it had a cot, a counter, and a dismanteled wood stove. we tried to get the stove working but let me just say that duct tape does not go well with heat and smells fucking aweful when it burns. the next day we arrived at james bay and the town of waskaganish (the chlamydia capital of north america).
the lesson here is never put all your tents in one pack. which is not to be confused with "never put all your eggs in one basket". seriously though, it's a totally different concept.
and remember not to ever burn duct tape,
ever.
girv
Day 3: Incompetence
first off, i would like to point out that although the last post entitled: "patty" was not written by me even though blogger seems to have credited me with the piece. as you can see, this was lois in the most drunken of stupors being generally blid. in no way was i involved in the publishing of that post, regardless of how jealous i may be of it.
now, on to business.
in grade ten i took a computer science class. we learned how to use turing, which is, i suppose, some sort of language like java or something. as you can see i rarley paid attention, in fact, the only thing i did for the entire year was write a program which turened out to be composed of over 600 lines of code which i called "sinister fish". when you ran the program you saw a small, yellow fish begin moving accross the screen. soon afterwards, a larger red fish whose facial expression could only be described as sinister began chasing the small fish. when they got about 3/4 of the way across the screen the sinister fish would catch up to the small fish and it's mouth would open and close as it ate the smaller fish. the sinister fish would then continue to move off the screen and the program would be over. i spent an entire school year and 600 lines of code for that, and i couldn't be more proud. in fact, i'm pretty sure i got more out of that class than anyone else. but onto the real story:
2003, december, it's a friday. now anyone who attended north toronto CI will tell you that for their entire high school career exams were scheduled at 9:00am and 1:00pm. i had an exam for comp-sci, i knew it was not in the morning which meant that the exam was at 1:00. i arrived at 12:30 with a half hour to do some last minute studying. as i'm walking through the halls two chaps walk out of the washroom discussing the exam that they had just written. i inquired as to which exam they had just written and they told me they wrote the computer science exam. well, for the record, my first reaction was to say "holy shit" at an above-reasonable level. but my bewilderment quickly turned to hilarity as i was informed that on this particular friday the exams had been scheduled for 9, 11:30, and 2. i was one hour late and quite unable to write the exam. for those of you who care, don't worry, on the report card (remember those?) where the exam was worth 30% i still pulled in a whopping 52.
as a blidlife exclusive i will confess that while the rest of the class was taking up the exam when we got back in january, i realized that i had no idea what the fuck was going on and porbably would have failed the exam anyway.
but i haven't missed one since
girv
now, on to business.
in grade ten i took a computer science class. we learned how to use turing, which is, i suppose, some sort of language like java or something. as you can see i rarley paid attention, in fact, the only thing i did for the entire year was write a program which turened out to be composed of over 600 lines of code which i called "sinister fish". when you ran the program you saw a small, yellow fish begin moving accross the screen. soon afterwards, a larger red fish whose facial expression could only be described as sinister began chasing the small fish. when they got about 3/4 of the way across the screen the sinister fish would catch up to the small fish and it's mouth would open and close as it ate the smaller fish. the sinister fish would then continue to move off the screen and the program would be over. i spent an entire school year and 600 lines of code for that, and i couldn't be more proud. in fact, i'm pretty sure i got more out of that class than anyone else. but onto the real story:
2003, december, it's a friday. now anyone who attended north toronto CI will tell you that for their entire high school career exams were scheduled at 9:00am and 1:00pm. i had an exam for comp-sci, i knew it was not in the morning which meant that the exam was at 1:00. i arrived at 12:30 with a half hour to do some last minute studying. as i'm walking through the halls two chaps walk out of the washroom discussing the exam that they had just written. i inquired as to which exam they had just written and they told me they wrote the computer science exam. well, for the record, my first reaction was to say "holy shit" at an above-reasonable level. but my bewilderment quickly turned to hilarity as i was informed that on this particular friday the exams had been scheduled for 9, 11:30, and 2. i was one hour late and quite unable to write the exam. for those of you who care, don't worry, on the report card (remember those?) where the exam was worth 30% i still pulled in a whopping 52.
as a blidlife exclusive i will confess that while the rest of the class was taking up the exam when we got back in january, i realized that i had no idea what the fuck was going on and porbably would have failed the exam anyway.
but i haven't missed one since
girv
Patty
Hey peterson...Way to fucking be a dick..Steve nash is a manz, you are a legit batiridah tang.
mens on that little big planet perse...wack fruity tangs
listen to that asher roth, mens on that morning dew bidnesss.susssssssss
your boy
lois "Doctor Green Thumbs" Einhorn
ps...bun that kush
"Grew Kush Before The Fashion, Doctor Green Thumbs betweenthe gloves and the hashplant"
NExxxxxt
what a historic day
this day will be marked forever in history, as a day of second chances, a day of rebirth, a day of hope. today, Claude Lemieux makes his return to the NHL. 
take him off the washed up list forever boys
girv
take him off the washed up list forever boys
girv
Day 2: Road Warrior
alright so before you guys start reeming me out for my last post, i wasn't trying to be insensitive or jump the gun. ok, so nathan jawai didn't actually play last night but i still think it was a huge step for him.
onto day 2:
when i was a young lad my friends and i used to play road hockey almost every day. and every day the ice cream man would come by at around 4:00. when he first started coming around we would call him the "ice cream nazi" not because he was mean but because he looked like the soup nazi from seinfeld. we thought it was rather ironic though that he turned out to be really very nice. after awhile we learned that his name was norm and started calling him uncle norm.
one fine day two freinds and i were at someone's house where they had
some realistic looking toy guns. we proceded to hold up norm with the gun. now, when i say we, i mean my buddy and not me. the other two of us hid behind a bush. at the sight of the gun he held up his arms and said "i surrender". he then gave my friend a huge wad of fives. he got the money back and called me a chicken for hiding behind the bush.
since then i have never hid behind a bush from a robbery.
and neither should you
girv
onto day 2:
when i was a young lad my friends and i used to play road hockey almost every day. and every day the ice cream man would come by at around 4:00. when he first started coming around we would call him the "ice cream nazi" not because he was mean but because he looked like the soup nazi from seinfeld. we thought it was rather ironic though that he turned out to be really very nice. after awhile we learned that his name was norm and started calling him uncle norm.
one fine day two freinds and i were at someone's house where they had
some realistic looking toy guns. we proceded to hold up norm with the gun. now, when i say we, i mean my buddy and not me. the other two of us hid behind a bush. at the sight of the gun he held up his arms and said "i surrender". he then gave my friend a huge wad of fives. he got the money back and called me a chicken for hiding behind the bush.since then i have never hid behind a bush from a robbery.
and neither should you
girv
a great day for black people
yes, in america it's martin luther king day and barack obama is about to be sworn in as president. but i'm not taking about that. i'm talking about Nathan Jawai, who as of this afternoon has become the first australian aboriginal to play in the NBA. now the game hasn't started yet but he should get some playing time.
here's hoping
girv
here's hoping
girv
The Twelve Days of Girv
for the next twelve days i shall be revealing stories from my childhood so that some of you may get a small glimpse into my dementia. each day i will tell a different story pertaining to a certain life lesson that i learned or to a certain quality that makes me who i am.
the first story is about my eight minutes of fame, and the discovery of
"The Girvan Ouch".
it was a cold january day in 2002, much like today, only it wasn't raining and school hadn't been canceled. since the "field" was actually concrete and had no grass we could only play football in the winter when there was a lot of snow on the ground. we were playing a friendly match when the opposing team's third down came and went without success. my friend sean was getting ready to punt the ball and i was steamboating. i think it's important to mention that i was, hands down, the best steamboater on that side of isslington. it is also important to note that sean was three times my size. he wasn't unhealthily obese, he was just huge. anyway, i was steamboating and he punted the ball right at me. in an effort to preserve my manhood i turned around and the ball hit me in the back. well, i flew about five feet in the air and landed flat on my face. after i got up i looked a sean and said "ouch". now, since the ball had technically hit me and sean recovered the ball. he got a fresh set of downs. the play was named the girvan ouch and was used on many unsuspecting victims where we would purposefully kick the ball at people so hard that they couldn't catch it and we would recover it. this only works in your own endzone in the NFL but i have seen it done on two occasions and every time i theink of how much money i could have made if only i had become a professional football coach.
more to come
girv
the first story is about my eight minutes of fame, and the discovery of
"The Girvan Ouch".
it was a cold january day in 2002, much like today, only it wasn't raining and school hadn't been canceled. since the "field" was actually concrete and had no grass we could only play football in the winter when there was a lot of snow on the ground. we were playing a friendly match when the opposing team's third down came and went without success. my friend sean was getting ready to punt the ball and i was steamboating. i think it's important to mention that i was, hands down, the best steamboater on that side of isslington. it is also important to note that sean was three times my size. he wasn't unhealthily obese, he was just huge. anyway, i was steamboating and he punted the ball right at me. in an effort to preserve my manhood i turned around and the ball hit me in the back. well, i flew about five feet in the air and landed flat on my face. after i got up i looked a sean and said "ouch". now, since the ball had technically hit me and sean recovered the ball. he got a fresh set of downs. the play was named the girvan ouch and was used on many unsuspecting victims where we would purposefully kick the ball at people so hard that they couldn't catch it and we would recover it. this only works in your own endzone in the NFL but i have seen it done on two occasions and every time i theink of how much money i could have made if only i had become a professional football coach.
more to come
girv
The Hiatus
Ohhhhh zappp...So hangover sundays are in full effect, in order to persy and escape the wrath of the countless drinks that were ingested over the course of last evening, having on some blid is necessary.
Fuck, sorry young zanglefeen(fitch for you noooobs) is ranting on redwall abbey, remember those civil and noble mice and other assorted rodents fairly perse
Runnnnnnnnnnnnin away
koombyaa
yo, if your here because your hating on various posts made on ign boards please don't hate on this blog. on behalf of blidlife, i do apologize for our CBO's somewhat unorthadox advertising methods. while your here though, please feel free to peruse our enterprise.
onto other matters. this past week has been a great and historical one. chuck comes home to toronto, rsho hosts the raps in the indy while similtaniously and at the same time the graham crackers make smores (not a sexual refrence) and JO gets a mixed welcome.
this week's rasho of the week: andrea bargniani, for finnaly following in joey graham's footsteps and finally living up to his potential.
also, since we are in the new year the rasho of 2008 will have to be: a vote. why is it always me who chooses this shit. here are this year's nominees:
chuck swirsky
cito gaston
matt fitch
young pat
and
steve guttenberg
please vote for your favourite. without people to read the blog, we're just talking to each other
more to come
girv
onto other matters. this past week has been a great and historical one. chuck comes home to toronto, rsho hosts the raps in the indy while similtaniously and at the same time the graham crackers make smores (not a sexual refrence) and JO gets a mixed welcome.
this week's rasho of the week: andrea bargniani, for finnaly following in joey graham's footsteps and finally living up to his potential.
also, since we are in the new year the rasho of 2008 will have to be: a vote. why is it always me who chooses this shit. here are this year's nominees:
chuck swirsky
cito gaston
matt fitch
young pat
and
steve guttenberg
please vote for your favourite. without people to read the blog, we're just talking to each other
more to come
girv
NOT WORTH IT!
oh weaslee, how do you do?
in other news leafs pick up the most delicious Brad May. if, for some reason you don't have the most respect for brad may check this out. yo, what up son? i love to find shiny things in the sand with a metal detector. thinsillated.
ok but seriously i'm wearing a took. wathicn bet. there's a man with a very poor dental plan speaking in slow motion. bloohaaa?
on to the tribeks, doughnuts till ya puke. micky dees
speaking of julian kent. where the fuck is matthew broderick.
yeh
girv
in other news leafs pick up the most delicious Brad May. if, for some reason you don't have the most respect for brad may check this out. yo, what up son? i love to find shiny things in the sand with a metal detector. thinsillated.
ok but seriously i'm wearing a took. wathicn bet. there's a man with a very poor dental plan speaking in slow motion. bloohaaa?
on to the tribeks, doughnuts till ya puke. micky dees
speaking of julian kent. where the fuck is matthew broderick.
yeh
girv
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
