Alpha is the new Beta-Max

This is not news, new news at least. But the reality of the situation just hit me this weekend.

With the new fall TV season in full swing, and school work taking up all of my primetime, I figure I should record my shows and watch them at a later time. There are a couple of problems with that solution.

Problem 1) - I don't have a VCR. Revise that; a useable VCR. I do have one VCR whose timer doesn't work, and it's nearly as old as I am. It works, but I'd prefer one that is programmable.

Problem 2) I can't find a VCR to buy. I knew the technology was becoming more and more obselete, but I never thought they'd be this hard to find. All the major electronics stores no longer carry them. I found one at Wal-Mart for around $50, so I may pick it up this weekend.


Look at it while you can; it's headed the way of the dodo.

It's amazing to think how the former king of home video has gone the way of the failed beta-max within a few years.

Resetting the Pace

I finally did it. After over a year of sleeping at 3am and getting up at 11am, my internal rhythm has been reset to accomodate early morning arousals (6:30am).

Why did I do it? OISE (a fancy acronym that basically translates into "teacher's college at U of T") has scheduled me for several 8:30am classes. Factoring in the time needed to commute and do my entire beauty regime (you CAN look as good as me, you just have to invest the time....), I figured I needed about two hours.


The Red Team chooses to raid the Blue base when I fall asleep at my post.

It wasn't easy, mainly because of my late-night rituals. I love watching Conan O'Brien. I love killing n00bs on Xbox Live at night. I love reading novels/comics before going to bed. And I love doing all of this after 11pm. There were times in the past several months where I had to get up around 7am for early morning teaching. 11pm would roll around and I'd think "I can't sleep now!"

Anyway, with all the work I have these days there's barely any time for all of that goodness. Maybe I could fit some things in if I pace myself accordingly.

Countdown to Jackass Part 3 - Butt x-ray

This stunt was originally going to be done by Steve-O. However, prior to the "performance" of the stunt, he discusses how disappointed his dad sounded when he told him about it. Yes, believe it or not, Steve-O has feelings and cares about what his dad thinks of him. So he trades up this one for the off-road tattooing stunt, originally planned for Ryan Dunn.

For some reason, Ryan agrees to get a toy car shoved up his butt. The toy car is placed into a condom, lubed up real nice, and inserted into his rectum - all under paramedic supervision (now that's some safe sex). During the entire ordeal, Ryan proclaims "Oh God, I feel like I gotta s*** my ass!!!" That didn't even make sense, you need your ass to take a shit. How do you "shit your ass"? He's obviously delirious at this point.

With the car shoved in his hole, Ryan walks to the local doctor, complaining of a pain in his bum. He talks about how he passed out at a party the night previous, and awoke to severe rectal pain. The doctor is unsure of what is causing it, so he agrees to take an x-ray.

As he analyzes the results, the doctor furrows his brow. Surely that CANNOT be a toy car in his butt. But the doctor has no choice but to believe his eyes, and infers that Ryan was at a party full of drugged-up homosexuals. While talking to Ryan, he explains that he shouldn't tell anybody about this, not his girlfriend or his boyfriend. How Ryan kept a straight face after that comment is is beyond me. The doctor says that removal of the car will require major surgery, which Ryan refuses.

As the final credits roll, the film shows that Ryan successfully removed the car himself with voluntary bowel movements. Apparently it came out in his shit, as the movie shows the car, in a shit-encrusted condom. Yuck.



Ryan showing off his x-ray. Unfortunately, the idiot that captured this screen didn't include the x-ray. Stupid jackass.

Another legal note for this stunt - the movie could not be clear about who put the car into Ryan's butt. In some states, sodomy is against the law, and this would've gotten the Jackass crew in deep trouble. Since we have no idea who really shoved the car up his butt, I guess that makes it suitable viewing. Whatever.

Countdown to Jackass Intro - Commence Countdown
Countdown to Jackass Part 1 - Riot Control Test
Countdown to Jackass Part 2 - Off-road Tattoo

Countdown to Jackass Part 2 - Off-Road Tattoo

Steve-O volunteers to fuse his love of body art with his Jackass art. The stunt goes as follows: Steve-O agrees to get a tattoo of a smiley face on his shoulder....while in a moving off-road dune buggy driven by none other than hardcore punk artist Henry Rollins. Steve-O straps his arms against part of the structure in a futile attempt to restrict mobility while Henry drives over bumps and rocks in the middle of the desert.


The simplest tattoo pattern ever? Maybe...

Henry floors the dune buggy, and tattoo artist Jeff Tremaine goes to work. Rollins does a good job of finding routes to optimize bumpage and interference for Jeff. He makes sure that physically stable periods are kept to a minimum, whilst yelling to Steve-O "This course is designed to F*** YOU UP!!!".

About 45 minutes later, Rollins brings the vehicle to a halt, and Steve-O looks at his tattoo. At first glance, Jeff appears to have done a superb job of following the simplistic pattern, to which Steve-O proclaims, "It's a total smiley face, dude!". Because of all the bumps, blood and ink can be seen smeared down Steve-O's arm.

The movie cuts to an unspecified amount of time later, and the happy face has somehow morphed into a circular smear resembling nothing. Amazingly, some ink dots can be seen as far as a few centimetres away from the circle.


"It's a total smiley face, dude!" - Steve-O

On a semi-related note, Steve-O had another tattoo done prior to the smiley face. This one, as you can see, is on a slightly grander scale.




Yes Steve-O; indeed you do rock.

This is his self-proclaimed, largest self-portrait tattoo on earth. According to Steve-O, the depicted head is bigger than his actual head. He believes that if he pitched the idea to the Guiness Book of World Records, he'd win.

Imagine if he tried the self-portrait one in the dune buggy. It sounds crazy; all the more reason why I wouldn't put it past that Jackass.

Countdown to Jackass Intro - Commence Countdown
Countdown to Jackass Part 1 - Riot Control Test

Countdown to Jackass Part 1 - Riot Control Test

Welcome to part one of my "Countdown to Jackass" series. It is my hope that this series will either:
a) get you hyped about the movie, convincing you to watch it if you're on the fence, or
b) appall you to the point that you stop coming back, because if your butt is clenched that tightly, you really shouldn't be part of my readership.

Johnny Knoxville volunteers to get shot in the belly with a non-lethal bean-bag projectile gun, the type of weapon used for riot control. According to online articles, its effects on targets are the following: "Incapacitation caused by loss of breath, psychological effect, and/or excruciating pain and extreme discomfort."

He stands watching on the sidelines for a minute as the "expert" demonstrates for the audience how powerful these things are. Despite their lumbering size and softness, the velocity at which they're fired at allows them to cut through paper targets like butter. Johnny just lowers his head as he is hit with the reality of what he signed up for.


Johnny Knoxville under considerably less pain...for a Jackass.

It's showtime, and Knoxville steps into place. The marksman kneels and steadies his aim, focusing on a self-drawn bullseye on the target's abdomen. As he holds his breath to ensure accuracy, Knoxville stands remarkably still, wide-eyed, waiting for the pain to come.

After several seconds of silence, a loud burst of air is heard, followed by the sound of a grown man howling in pain as he doubles over into the fetal position. He rocks back and forth for a bit, while onlookers are so stunned they can do nothing but stare.

The movie then cuts to Johnny, showing what it looks like two weeks later. A large purple bruise, covering about half of his abdomen, marks where the beanbag hit him (it wasn't a bullseye, by the way). Apparently, the pain can still be felt when he stands from a supine position, goes into a supine position, or is generally conscious. Ouch.

An interesting note on this stunt - what actually transpired is different from what is seen on the DVD. The marksman completely missed his first shot. When you watch the DVD, the video of Johnny awkwardly waiting for the shot to come was actually the second attempt. MTV lawyers told them that the first "shot" had to be removed. Reason is that the beanbag gun can be lethal if fired at an unprotected chest and face (both of which were not protected). The Jackass crew were not allowed to waive criminal liability (only civil), hence the markman could've technically been charged with attempted murder. Needless to say, Johnny Knoxville was not too pleased about this edit.

But after getting hit in the belly, I'm sure the legalities of the stunt were the least of his worries.

Countdown to Jackass Intro - Commence Countdown

Commence Countdown: Jackass Number Two opens Sept. 22

The unexpected, yet highly anticipated sequel to one of the greatest comedies in modern cinema, Jackass: The Movie, releases this Friday. The entire series has been widely criticized for signalling the end of civilization. But the Jackass crew doesn't give a crap; with the previous film's $5 million budget and $64 million in domestic box-office income, they could probably care less if the movie was lauded as the worst movie of all time. In fact, I'm sure they'd welcome that label.

The sequel is a dream come true for fellow Jackass fans. After the movie came out, Johnny Knoxville (who founded the entire Jackass thing) decided that he wanted to move on his career, ending the series. But his love for weird, insane, and often disturbing acts could not be ignored. It's kind of like the twin in the bible story who took off for a bit, but like a lost sheep, eventually returned home. To that, I say, "Johnny, good to have you 'BAAAAAAA'ck!". I admit, that was bad.

In order to quell my anticipation before I explode, over the next few days I will recount my favourite stunts from the previous movie. I will try to get one up tonight. But if I don't; too bad, jackass.

Red-zowned

Do you know the mission statement of the Town of Markham? No? Because I do. It is as follows:

A traffic light at every turn, intersection, and sewer drain by 2010.

With such a plan in place, commutes that currently require 20 minutes will require 35. What a blessing; 15 extra minutes. We are being given the gift of time! This generous gift is only possible if Markham becomes completely red-zoned.

How was I privy to this info on the town's mission? Simple; I drove through Denison St. from Markham Rd to Warden Avenue this past Sunday. I was stopped at no less than 12 red lights along the way. Total commute time - 17 minutes. Normally I take 14th avenue when travelling between those two streets. Total commute time along that route (with considerably less traffic lights) - approximately 9 minutes.

Last time I take the scenic route.

The costs of sympathy

I walked into a local Chapter's bookstore this past Saturday. Out of habit, I looked to the bulletin board on the left in the vestibule, where the staff posts recent recommendations and author appearances. Lo and behold, an author was scheduled to appear. Her book was a fiction piece, something about a girl, while going through some village rites of passages, is prematurely thrust into a scenario where the balance of the world tilts on her fingertips. MY GAWD!!! Without a second thought, I walked in and MY GAWD! Her appearance is today!

The author is practically an unknown as far as I'm concerned, so it's no surprise that there was nobody at her table. Our eyes met, we smiled at one another, and in a split second I thought "Shit, if I go there, I'll have to buy the book. But man, I feel bad for her. Maybe I should buy her book just so she feels a bit better. Wait a sec....glossy cover, bigger than standard 4 x 7 size....IT'S NOT PAPERBACK! That's gonna cost me $20 at least." After a few more split seconds of pondering and some awkward moments of staring at one another, I decided to bolt to Starbucks and get a coffee while I pondered (which I was gonna do in anyway, as per my regular Chapter's routine).

Now, keep in mind that I have had this experience before, and the first time around, I bought the book. I won't say which book it is so as not to create negative publicity for it, but.... WORST BOOK I EVER READ. I didn't even finish it. The author told me how he had never written before. Initially I figured he meant "never written a published book", but he must've meant "never written anything creative", because it was the most awful, contrived plot EVER!!! A previous girlfriend had done the same thing as well with a different author, with similar results. My past experiences were not boding well for this prospective benefactor of my sympathy.

As I mixed my coffee and pondered on the fiasco that was the last time, I decided that I would plunk down the $20. I turned in that direction and to my surprise, someone was talking to her. I thought, "Great! Now I don't have to!", headed straight to fiction, and half an hour later, walked out the front door.

In retrospect, I think I should've bought the book anyway. I don't know how many copies she sold, but I know the majority of the time, the authors don't do all too well at those things. She was by herself again as I left. My wallet still has that $20 (and the tax is still in my pocket in the form of change), but now there's this slight lingering guilt that I could've helped out a bit. I guess I should've considered the other costs of my dumb sympathy.

In sincere days

Oh, where has all the sincerity gone? It hit me today as I walked through the mall on my way back from school (I'm one of those people that park there for free when I'm not supposed to - feel the rebellion!).

Since I've got a long night of work ahead of me, I thought a Second Cup would do me good. I walked into the cafe and instinctively looked at the coffee bins to check the flavours of the day. Somewhere in the background I heard "Hi, how are you today?" I turned to respond, and before the the sight registered to identify the source, said "Fine thanks. Yourself?" I kept looking, and she didn't look up, nor did she respond. What the hell? Did she even look at me?? Probably not. Maybe she saw movement at the corner of her eye and felt compelled to greet.

Afterwards, I went to a bookstore to check on a book that had interested me. As I walked in, I was promptly greeted with a "Hello, how are you doing today?" I looked to see a woman behind the desk looking in my direction. "I'm fine thanks, and your...." before I even finished the sentence, the woman turned to her companion and resumed conversation with a "So anyway....".

Great, we've got a person who can't be bothered to look at me, and a person who can't be bothered to break away from conversation long enough to take in my response. In sincere days, person 1 would look at me, and person 2 would hear me out for three seconds. Insincere days are upon us, however. In the future, if you don't give a shit about how I'm doing, don't ask me.

Some of you may be thinking "C'mon Andrew, they were just trying to be nice." Bull shit, that is not "nice". In my book, sincerity is inherent to being nice. If you act nice when you don't mean it, you are not nice. You're FAKE.

Risin' Fall

Before I begin, I'd like to make a few things very clear:
1) I do not watch, partake, dabble in, or take any interest in gay porn.
2) I have no problem if you, or anybody else does.

OK, now that I've set myself 'straight' in a politically correct manner, I may move on.

There is currently much speculation regarding a new'comer' in the gay porn industry, a guy known as Brock (wow, oppurtunities for porn puns just keep 'popping up' <---there it is again!).



I hope you enjoyed those pics, because I went through great lengths to find pictures that didn't give you grounds to sue me. There are things that I saw that I do not wish to talk about - let's leave it at that.

The controversy and speculation have nothing to do with Brock's past criminal record or what he used to do to little kids. More like, what he used to do for little kids.

Look at his first picture closely, and try to see if he resembles somebody.
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If you don't have it now, you'll never get it. Many believe that Brock is this guy.



Austin St. John, the Red Ranger of the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers! I don't know about you, but I think Austin St. John would make a great porno name. He should've stuck with it. If the speculation is true and Brock and Austin are one and the same, what a sad state of affairs for the ex-Ranger. One minute you're on top of the TV world, mowing down monsters to the delight of wee little children the world over. The next minute you're in a men's communal shower, dropping a bar of soap. Mind you, it was a scripted event, but you know what I mean. Sort of ironic how Austin's fall from grace is through his 'rise' within the underbelly of the entertainment industry.

I'm sure it must be 'hard on' him, but hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Sometimes, it's another man.