Dec
09
2011

the disparate things that we love

1. Richard Laviolette. Do yourself a favour and go to the Zunior page for his solo album, and click on “Silhouettes” to hear a snippet. I can’t find this song on the internet, so this is the best I can give you, friends. I could lock myself in a small room and listen to that [...]

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Dec
05
2011

things I don’t regret #1

Hitch-hiking. To visit friends, see awesome bands, or do karaoke in strange bars with people I hadn’t met. This photo was taken before a four hour long wait on the side of the road in Borden. In retrospect, that might have been a lot of work to go yell a Billy Joel song at a [...]

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Dec
04
2011

4/5 stars, does not taste like turpentine

Continuing my recent internet renaissance, there are three new posts on the wine blog today. I consider this a great success, even if I am still awake at 11:30 on a week night while considering all the various ways I can describe how a wine tastes like toast.

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Dec
03
2011

a hair story, or: an evolving sense of self as demonstrated by the dead cells on your head (part 3)

(part 1, part 2) Where we left off last time, I had a messy mop that was developed in equal parts by sheer laziness, my need to hide from the world, and a desire to look like a fictional Russian spy.  2005: the beginning of a descent into complete shitty ineptitude, poor health, and tremendously [...]

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Dec
02
2011

a hair story, or: an evolving sense of self as demonstrated by the dead cells on your head (part 2)

(part 1) At the end of part 1,  it was 2003 and I had started to become more self-conscious and discerning about the image I projected to the world.  Apparently this meant dying my hair to match my clothes. Way to go. Then one night I got drunk on a quart of butterscotch schnapps. I [...]

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Dec
02
2011

a hair story, or: an evolving sense of self as demonstrated by the dead cells on your head (part 1)

or: An Archival Look at Mistakes My hair has changed in fairly significant ways over the past ten years.  What remained the same was the deep feeling that my hair was talking to the world, telling them exactly what kind of idiot I was on a daily basis.  Even if I didn’t consciously express it, I understood [...]

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