True Urban Legends

why trip over things that don't happened as planned when you can celebrate the random?

after bumping B.O.B (my chosen tantrum song) after dedicating the last week of my life to applying for my "dream" job and having it all fall through, it just took one call and lurking in the street to meet a refugee from vancouver that i've been trying to connect with for sometime.

one walk down laurier, and i'm glad i'm wearing a one sleeved shirt (so as to always be appropriate for the weather). fall is coming sooner than we all would like, but it's all good.

this week's version of the st.laurent street party is less attended, no pineapples on sticks (but mangos in full effect) and i got my bday outfit, a cute versi-tubey that has a mouse on it (holding a giant cookie and saying "it's a cookie kind of day") for 5 bux, last time i got that acid wash/crinoline skirt (b bring it back from nyc!) for the same price, so it's all gravy.

highlight: 1/2 chicken, fries and salad from ramadon's-the portugese know how to mess up some birds! and the best part is that it was only $6.99. we ate it in the children's park, and i think the local cats know that it's a regular spot to get some chicken because they kept coming, one after the other. my fave was this skinny but scrappy little grey one with green eyes. he was the best. orange was ok, as was giant long-haired tabby, but they didn't really get down on the chicken the way the little one did.

i seminated Jeanne-Mance/St. Viateur with some Strangers With Candy goodness and called it a night.

this morning, I woke up refreshed and ready to record my translation videos, coming soon to a viewership of very very many. the empire expands, and since i've moved to Montreal, it's been screentime after screentime! first the doc, then the exercise for the installation at the MAI with the Halifax artist who's interested in maps (that one was a paid gig) and now, I've got my foot in the door at www.watchmojo.com. for anyone that knows me, y'all know that size 6 foot is all I need to make people love me. and somehow I manage to coordinate this with my becomming drunk with power and make it mutually beneficial.

if True Urban Legends was a pilot, I may be moving to syndication sooner than I thought. whoo hooo!

wow. warning signs foreshadowing that beyonce's about to pull a mariah/whitney all in one:

-in every video for the new album, she looks progressively more crazy, very feverish, jerky motions, giving that weave the workout of its life, but hey, she's providing new positions for people, bigup keeping folks employed, b!

-the new track is about her man cheating (though screaming about chinchilla coats is not the way to keep him) and the last video, where she's "swamp beyonce" featured him not even looking at her, i think all the rumours of him slipping rihanna some of the presidential carter sausage must be carrying some weight

-letoya, silly as she is, is set to blow up in that way that all them girls do, which is probably making the bday girl sweat a bit as well, as that is the girl who used to look like her minime, she used to be the cutest one in the original dc lineup (and because she had no knowles bloodline she was one of the first to be kicked out). now, she's looking more like lil' kim and playing to that same crowd.

-the angry vid shows that b just can't do it like the bossiest one, kelis. who DIDN'T feel that hype williams joint when she came out smashing that cat's records?!

-more assorted nutty shit: did that idiot really just say, "fergie ferg and me love you long time?!" damn. just when i thought she couldn't get more offensive.

-is diddy rocking grills and a suit? (again done better by kelis, grills and roberto cavalli bathing suit) i wonder if he's going to hear it from the heads for coming back kanye style like he never left.

-what is WITH that lead pussytwat doll?! but at least she's the only one that's not setting herself up for some 6th man reality show two years from now. why are there so many of them anyway? they just take up space.

ok. can you tell i have a yahoo player? the internet is better/worse/better/worse than tv.

last night, i hollered "those are hawt boots" at a girl who just nonchalantly replied, "thanks" as she hurried furtively past. one of my companions commented that she knew they were hot so that's why she didn't thank me for the compliment.

i think it's because as women, we are socialized to believe that we are all competing for limited resources, which is why we hate on eachother as much as we do, and are suspicious of eachother when we say nice things to eachtother. how ass-backwards is this? (and yes, i do realize that not too long ago in my last blog, i was cutting up the fashion non-sense of my peers).

it's especially dangerous when it's made into a means to sell anything and everything under the sun. just think of all the celebrity "fueds" that we are bombarded with, not so subtly forced into choosing sides to champion a cause, as if the women involved are representative of anything but industry pawns. we are given the same scenarios and the same cycles over and over.

brandy vs. monica, prince vs. michael (you know i had to throw that one in, and besides, michael's pretty much a girl), hilary vs. lindsay, paris vs. the world, beyonce vs. "her backup singers" or everyone who's ever been in the group that's not family, mariah vs. jlo and christina vs. britney.

the last pair inspired this post, because i just saw the video for "ain't no other man" (gotta love youtube) and she killed it. we all knew she could sing, but she's officially on the upswing of this battle, her last album was successful, she took a hiatus from the biz to get married (and therefore gets her ticket to be as slutty as she wants, see my girl Tara's xxl blog about "freak in the streets but a lady in the bed") and releases a double album all glam like. This is her Emancipation of Mimi.

but lest we think that anyone is immune from "comeback", just remember that Mariah was officially kookoo not too long ago and bounced back. not that i'm saying that britney doesn't have a hard line to ho, er. toe, or even that i'm rooting for her. what with the white trash pregnancy, k-fed fiascos, and bobby brown remakes (though kevin and britney are really the millenium bobby and whitney), i think that dark haired pregnant diamond cluster photoshoot with harper's or not (hello demi moore GQ jack sans body paint), that is nearing the territory of impossible.

and lest my final note on "competition" be a big britney slam, i just want to say that it's too bad that we subscribe to this "divide and conquer" mentality, which, along with the "purist" ideas of needing to believe that consensus=survival of a movement, has led to the idea that feminism is dead, which is absolutely false, we've just branched out. the boomers are dying, it's time to be our own heroes, not grasp at straws at past idols.

don't hate for no reason, but don't bigup for no reason either. use your discretion, folks.

serious montreal love is about to follow:

i had a great interview on friday morning and you may see me in video form sooner rather than later, and that's all i'm going to say about that. i also tried out a great vietnamese/thai place just around the corner from prince arthur/st.laurent which seems to be a hot spot as of late. the lunch special is out of control: i got veggie soup, a spring roll (a real vietnamese spring roll) two pork chops, rice, coffee and a deep fried banana for 7bux. can't beat that.

the discussion group went well, we each got our 7bux even though only one of us was a McGill student, too late now suckas, you paid me! i love cash. it makes all transactions so final.

after that, i made a new friend S (very stylish and self-confident, the Nigerian faction of my UCBFG) and led this gaggle of folks all the way back to Tri-Express for more sushi (thanks J and A-ironic that new yorkers had to hip me to the best sushi place in montreal) it was a bit pricy, but worth it. afterwards, we rolled back (S has a bike that i rode for one revolution of the wheels before i got scared because it was too tall) and stopped by pre-loved where we were invited to their fashion show on Tuesday. sweet.

met up with the best photographer in town who's leaving us for Toronto at the end of the month and her love, the MTL dj who's currently got two remixes of Isis's songs under his belt (thanks to whose myspace connex?) and we were waiting for Killa Kela. they left early because of a chicken hangover (St. Hubert's) and i tried to stick it out, though i think this is where my suspicion (see title) started. there are some dirty, desperate people in clubs...Tokyo is alright, but the clientele leave a lot to be desired. and a note to women: please use tights with caution. they are dangerously approaching the misuse of spandex in the '80s and nobody needs to see that. Also, the tiny skirt over tights is SO becoming the uniform equivalent to Vancouver's lululemon suit/luis vuitton bag/fake and bake bleach blonde (Kits I don't miss you!) so please think of rubber bracelets, trucker hats and those woven bedroom slippers when you go to put that on, ladies. the back hole shirt with the cute patterns and rouched sleeves has quickly worked its way onto my hitlist too. i don't care what they push on you in Urban Outfitters, think for yourself!!!!! Marche Montreal or even Simons' has lots of alternatives. Oh, Killa Kela, if you're going to proclaim that "I'm gonna blow your mind with this shit, I'm going to tear you a new asshole", then you better be prepared to deliver more than 15 minutes of ok material. i was mildly impressed with Milkshake, but you should practice "Get Right" a little more before you unveil it publicly. Long story short, i wanted a refund and i was on the guestlist. the $2 chow mein on Pins/St. Laurent was the highlight of that night, but what's with the peanut sauce on the wontons? i saw someone eat that, and thought it was all kinds of foreshadowing to a stomachache.

friday was all about making new friends. first up, my experimenter, who bonded with me so quickly that we were chastised for making too much noise and thought we would never get through the 2 hour test, another smelly one, but less invasive. she invited me to the free bbq after and i had some delicious farm corn on the cob, a nice smokie and cake. we're gonna party it up, but it was pretty good, i was paid $10 to have a free lunch and meet a cool chick from philly.

meeting went awesome, ending with all kinds of inspiration and opportunity, and an invite to hop a g-list or two. started in discoteca, which was ok, but the dj needs some help with transitions/music choices: peep the songs of the moments we were there to take a shot of peppermint schnapps: "Fantasy" by Mariah Carey to "Here Comes the Hotstepper" (ya, juice like a muthafucking strawberry hotstepper, Ini Kamoze, where you at?) to "Mo'Money Mo' Problems" to "Ghetto Supastar" to "Welcome to Miami", clearly a tribute to 1996 and before, but talk about random.

big willie style is a good time to change your scenery, and we tried to get into Rouge, just across the street. the bouncers were not letting us in, and just as we were going to figure out what to do next, we witness this chick puke in the street, and when she went by, we realized that she had shit her pants. ooh. if ever there was an ad not to buy white pants, that was it. before we could even process that, we were ushered into the club (yeah for loitering!) and it was packed. the first floor was the rock floor, which we passed to get upstairs. "Rub You The Right Way" was playing (Johnny was the underrated New Edition, really) and followed closely by Whitney's "How Will I Know" so it was a great night. i just danced and enjoyed the company and it cancelled out the night before. that new justin tune is pretty great (ya, i said it) and timbaland can churn out a club banger, even if he's been doing the same one for the past 10 years.

see ya at lola tonite for the 1 year anniversary party...good to know the doorgirl, another refugee from vancouver.

okay, so i think that painting an alligator on the wall of your room officially counts as laying roots. an alligator, a giraffe, an elephant, a tiger, a cactus, flowers, snails, butterflies and a ladybug? i'ma be there for a hot minute. that's my new appartment, and we got all the living room painted and my bedroom is now a safari scene. i'm in the process of rolling all my belongings in and i should be there by the weekend. We'll see how things progress in the next few.

i've had a reunion with the fabulous C from Vancouver, who i only knew elusively there, but now that he's talking about fijian passports, perhaps it's exclusively. he's the only one of the harem that has expressed that he wants to be the only one in the "united colours of bennetton montreal faction of fancy garcons" so i'll have to just roll with it. he's hilarious, as we had to joke about having fake papers to take the immigrant french course (everyone else wants papers saying they're legal, naaw, we want it the other way) and i have to take him away from his beer guzzling compatriots.

i didn't really take him far, as we went to cafe campus last nite to see the coloured lights rock it out, but before that, we loitered and people watched. it was awesome.

we had a most excellent night, and now i've roped him into the discussion group later on, and we are going to see killa kela for 3bux tonite at tokyo...whoo hoo.

that's what my nose looks like. today, as an added perk to my experiment (other than the ten bux) i got to look inside my own nose. it's like a hairy tunnel, kind of narrow. that's right, like my outgoing message says, "i'm bringing sexyback".

so, the olfactory experiment, i impressed my swiss experimenter with my german vocabulary (i know how to say "shit",
"ants", "chocolate", "cinnamon" and "football") then i had to laugh because we were trying to make small talk in between sniffs and i asked this:

"so, have you always looked up noses?"

to which he responded:

"no, when i was younger, i played soccer."

that shit made me crack up. seriously. i tried to recruit him to do another experiment, that's using the resources. there was a tiny piece of latex blocking part of my nose and the experiment was to see if i could smell things with the block, so i had latex in my nostril, tape over the other one, and a blindfold. uh huh. so glamourous. i found out later that it was two scents: one was an artificial scent, and the other was male body odour (which apparantly i couldn't pick up at all) i guess i have an affinity, or lack therof, with male pheremones. smells like teen spirit, y'all. and my montreal faction of fancy garcons is finally coming together!!!!

Why do people use the handicap doors/automatic doors/push the buttons for doors to automatically open when their arms and legs are in clear working order?!

Why do people who make movies with bestiality themes not put condoms on the animals? (Ok, i guess this would be the least of your worries if you are doing Great Danes) and yes, i found out that this is a true urban legend. dam. but how could i resist (i should have) when it's introduced like this: "this girl has sex with three dogs, all of them with bigger dicks than mine..") yeeech. it takes a lot to gross me out, but my stomach was turning...yeech.

Live Legend: yesterday, when S and i were at the grocery store, we saw this lady who had nothing in her cart but 15lbs of nectarines and was parked in front of the meat section, indiscriminantly yet roughly hucking steaks into her cart. S had to get in the line of fire, dirty looks.

Speaking of S and M, how many pictures of me humping gay men will there be on Facebook? I'm not even on Facebook! I think that it's an unspoken agreement that Myspace folks aren't on Facebook and vice versa.

I'm loving the online radio. I have it on a cheesy "urban" station, and it's really bringing me back: Yesterday's pick: "Nobody" by Keith Sweat, this morning I started off with a dose of "Bump and Grind", and they just did "One More Chance" by Biggie, "How Come You Don't Call", the PRINCE version y'all, and now it's "I'm so Into You" by SWV. too much. and I guess I missed The Game's hookup with Kanye (Dreams) but that must have been because I missed all of the Game. and Kanye getting married, I wonder if he had her holla "we want prenup!"...and to make a point about male golddiggers, yes, of course they exist. one girlfriend of mine has to break the cycle of supporting all the trifling unclefuckers that come her way, girl..i'm not saying be a gold digga, but at least find yourself a WORKING shhh. while you're at it: youtube Carlos Mencia's version of the song. Oh, finally got to that chicken souvlaki craving, the best on my block! at the McGill Pizza...almost like that of Eugene's in Victoria,the only thing that wasn't comparable is that the pita was a bit thinner. But the tzaziki and chicken was fresh....ironically, I ate it while reading about Indonesia, the country with the most prevalent death rate of bird flu...thanks, Economist!

summer lethargy and lots of sleeping on the verge of moving, painting and changing addresses and such (hopefully for the last time in awhile, a quick count of moves in the past decade has me shaking my head at "25"-damn.) i painted my new room yellow a few days back, and when i roll some things over (yes, i'm moving by foot, in Vancouver it was scooter, but in Montreal, i'm rolling my damn luggage back and forth) the paint smell should have dissapated.

i also spent my friday nite at a bollywood party which i was glad to have gotten a media pass to because i would've been mad to pay $15. it was alright, but we blew that pop stand pretty quick in order to smoke the shisha, and somehow a bottle of 57% Iranian liquor got into my hands, and i'm not a drinker, but i was the only one able to handle that and i didn't even get red or tipsy like i usually do. i made a new gay friend, and there was youtube going on, mostly exposing the room to margaret cho and carlos mencia. the theme to the evening was gay dry-humping and "everyone's a little bit racist"...that's all i need to say about that.

saturday was all about running around showing some surprise guests from NYC the city that i don't quite know yet, but it was cool. we got accomplished everything on their list (including buying some trees in parc St.Denis) and finding truly the best sushi around, at Tri-sushi on Laurier (damn, that's my new street, so i'm going to be there all the time). What's with Vietnamese folks running sushi restaurants anyway? but in the last couple days, i've had really good sushi for cheap, and i can bigup my people at the same time. we also went to the Main for a great smoked meat sandwich (without the wait of Schwartz') and another stop at Ripples for ice cream (i'm sooo glad when friends come to visit so i can roll them by that way) flavour of the nite was blackberry cheesecake. we hung out on St.Denis and i had a cafe au lait at the brewery while they sampled beer and told me about middle school flour babies.

half the party was kayaking, and everyone wanted to head back to the campsite (yes, they came to Montreal to camp) so i gathered some more assorted local peeps together to head to Salon Daorme for some sick house music. ya, i said it. the company was good, the ambiance was amazing, the cover was manageable ($3-if that's not non-commital, i don't know what is) and there was lyrics, so i was seriously feeling it. there was about 2 hours of constant dancing, and if there's such a thing as "spiritual house", that's what the dj was spinning...with all the "rejoicing" and "lifting", i felt like we were at church early, after all, marroon 5 weren't the only ones there on Sunday morning...

after the club, we hit up the $2 chow mein on the way home, and it was ok, other than all the wasted styrofoam that i tried to avert my eyes to. i had lofty plans to go to Parking yesterday, but i barely made it to bellydance and did my laundry and that was about the extent of my accomplishments. but there should be many projects on the rise....creepin' on the comeup.

is it that when a power couple (re: BOTH parties worked hard to contribute to the title) breaks up, that the woman automatically gets called a golddigger? I mean, call a duck a duck, a spade a spade, Anna Nicole Smith what she is, and Superhead...well, let's not go there (have I asked already why she doesn't ever choose to sleep with good-looking men? I mean, Ice-T and Irv Gotti/Ja Rule and Shaq?!) but whatever, I digress.

Kimora and Russell broke up (sorry Alicia, your song was foreshadowing, huh? kinda like when Common kept dropping all them tracks about Erykah then he got his ass dropped). When they got together, Russell was doing awful documentaries (I'm sorry, but "The Show"?) and talking about how he was all about models. Kimora Lee? tall drink of water of a model? Check.

He was not really doing a lot on the Phat Farm tip then, he was "graduating" to Phat Farm University, so he lets the label develop into the women's line at the helm of his wife (pimping his children in the ads-let's not even talk about those ads) in the incarnation of Baby Phat. Ok, so it's a runway/runaway success.

Now, Kimora may be a lot of things, including dellusional about how good that blonde hair looks, but golddigger? Um, methinks she might just be a designer who knows how to tap into markets and exploit her best talents. If it was a "business arrangement", then both parties got theirs.

Babyface and Tracey Edmonds? Homegirl built the business end from the ground and got hers while her husband was busy re-inventing the English language (on "bendED" knee? "UNbreak" my heart?) and birth his babies to boot.

It just goes to show that no matter how successful a couple can be, and what they EACH contribute to an effort, the woman can always be cut "down to size" in a minute with that label, so let's watch how we throw it around, ya?

On a related note, if you haven't seen Carlos Mencia's version of "Golddigger", check it. Youtube forever.

To close, if folks start calling Jennifer Lopez a golddigger, I'm going to get really mad, I mean, what has Marc Anthony done for you lately?! But when she dumped Puff, it was thrown around. Nobody said nothing when things ended between Chris Judd though, or Ojani Noa. hmmmm...

i woke up this morning wanting to hear the song "no guarantees" by chico and joe (remember that jam?!) and so i went to my new obsession, youtube for help. well, what i found there....just check it out.

first off, i perused some pretty homoerotic/scorned man videos from about the same time period as above (post prison) but this here is the gem that inspired this blog. isn't the whole thing, from hairdo to beat, just "what have you done for me lately?" decide for yourself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2vuxhndzqA

next is my jam:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AY5EbxTu66U

what is it with this guy and the faces?!

and just for good measure and history:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PFCdkRdLmE

(bigup Richard Pryor)

good morning, y'all.