4067 Paper Street

2006-11-09T11:59:00.000-08:00

Adventures in Corporate Sluttery
Road Rules

Sweet Mother of Mary, dear readers, New York is a scary city. Did you know that some nightclubs stay open untill 5:30 in the morning? They even will continue to serve you tasty alcoholic beverages! Shocking!

Depending on the career you choose, you will sometimes be asked to get on a plane and go do business in some other part of the planet. Business trips can be alot of work, but they should always be alot of fun. If you work for cool people, all of your expenses plus a good portion of your fun will be covered, so managing your finanaces is only important in terms of making sure you get the best out of the company dollar. Also, and other key thing to remember is that business trips are like summer camp, or the first week in college residence in that nobody knows who you are. Keep these things in mind, becuase I'll go into detail later. So, without further ado, I present my authoritative guide to business trips!

Rule #1. You are Chuck Norris, James Bond, and P.Diddy all rolled into one.

As I briefly mentioned before, business trips are like summer camp. Unless you're traveling to the same fucking places and meeting with the same boring people, you're going to be constantly in front of a new group of people. At the office, everyone already knows your details; You chew loudly when you eat your lunch, you're perpetually late for meetings, you have a hard time forming complete sentences around the hot girl from HR. But on the road, you can be anyone you want to be. need some conversation starters? here's a few stock phrases I keep in my back pocket:

-"Oh for sure, volunteer work is so rewarding. When I was in Nepal teaching disabled orphans to read I.........."

-" Yeah, office culture really makes it difficult to balance your life. I had to completely cut back on my competative kickboxing schedual as soon as I got my promotion. Now I can only train 3 days a week......."

-"The travel schedual is really getting to me. I mean, one week in in Prague, the next week, i'm in Italy, and then i'm somewhere in......"

-" Oh wait, that's the average for fully erect? oh well then I gotta show you....."

Obviously, your volunteer expirience consists of the community service hours you were forced to serve for unpaid parking tickets (i mean, it wasn't even something sexy like a DUI, or manslaughter) , your work out routine consists of Xbox and masturbating while standing, and the farthest you've been from the office besides this trip has been your house, but who the fuck is going to know? Obviously not the people you are talking to on the road. Whether you're trying to impress clients, or snag some hard earned road nookie, remember; whoever said to thyne own self, be true Dropped that line on their collection of lifesize Star Wars dolls before working up the courage to blog about it on Live Journal. Fuck that guy, and everyone who looks like that guy (thanks, George). On the road, you're superman, you're Max Power, you're motherfucking Han Solo.

Rule #2. Know Your Body.

Nobody likes being hung over at work, but since you are on a buisness trip, you are mandated by The Lord your God to go out and get your respective freak, sippy, smoke, and/or Crunk on. Now, you will find that being in a new city with new and exciting people will give you much more energy, but remember, you are only human. If you know that on an average, non-business trip day, you require a full 8 hours to recover from going out and getting paraletic, you should allow for at least 1/3 that time (or 2.66 hours [decimal repeating]) to recover from business trip debauchery. Also, be mindful of your vice, and actively plan to only put things in your body that are not going to slow you down.

Now, on this topic, I want all who read this to know that I concider cocaine to be cheating. Come on, get creative! Calling your self a road warrior while blasting lines of blow off of the handdryer in the men's room is akin to doing the happy dance after beating the Original Mario Bros. and you used a Game Genie. My personal favorite in terms of legal methods of keeping the body going is to add Red Bull to absolutely everything you consume. Sure, my heart may explode at any minute, but damn that's shits tasty with Grey Goose.

Rule #3 Learn how to Collect Receipts

The trip was a blast, but when you go back, you must justify the company money you spent on the things you shouldn't have spent company money on. Basically, the rule of thumb is to collect a reciept for everything you buy. That's right, everything. I know, you're concerned that it would be terribly awkward to ask for a receipt in certain situations, but my friend, you are very much mistaken.

To make things perfectly clear for the record, Strippers will give you a receipt if you ask them.

Come on, now. Do you really think you're the first business guy she's met who is trying to justify her services as a business expense? She's a pro, goddamnit, so treat her with some respect. Don't worry, most places are very discreet. You're reciept isn't going to read:

$200 - "Ass as a Hat" special.

Although be warned that your boss might ask what bar charged you $200 for 2 rum and cokes.

So there you have it, folks. Now, I know alot of this boils down to the age old phrase" What goes on the road, stays on the road." but that is not an absolute truth. Things on stay on the road if you know what you're doing. For example, Herpes doesn't magically vacate your genitals whilst you're crossing the border. Your not a heroin virgin just because you shot up in another time zone. That hooker isn't any less dead. So, in short, play safe, have fun, and untill next time....

Get the fuck out of my office.

Love,

The Boss.

2006-09-21T11:16:00.000-07:00

Adventures in Corporate Sluttery
Like a Jilted Lover.....

I thought things were going really well. Now it's been 2 weeks and he hasn't called, or written. It's like he just vanished. No final goodbyes or anything. How am I supposed to feel? I'm hurt! I'm upset! I feel betrayed! I feel disrespected.

I had an employee go AWOL

This motherfucker had the gall to simple leave on a tuesday, and just stop showing up because he didn't like the job. Not only did he just disappear, but the day before he asked me to keep the office open late so he would work late. It would only be me and him in the office, and normally I wouldn't do that because it's not worth my time, but he was new so I thought I'd let him have at it. And then.....nothing. nada. zilch. void. emptyness.

At first I thought he might just be sick, and as time passed I was truly concerned for his well being. I started calling his place and e-mailing him. No answer. My parental instincts soon turned to an epic monolith of anger. a Madcropolis. Not only has my time been wasted, but I look like a bit of a putz to the boss by hiring someone who would pull such shit. But most importantly, I should have been able to smell this shit comming. Most of my anger is truly directed inward, as I feel as my intuition failed. Therefor, this issue of Corporate Sluttery is dedicated to routing out fence jumpers.

Now this particular guy caught me completely by surprise, but most people who are looking to quit suddenly arn't great poker players. You can tell by their body language and the way they relate to other people in the office that thay are planning on giving you the ol "fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool, fuck you, i'm outta here" speach. As an effective manager, it's your job to fire these people with furious bravado before this can happen. This can actually be a blessing in disguise; how bad can you feel about canning someone in a hilarious fashion when you know they were going to quit anyway. Alright, first things first; here are some tips on identifying these lowlife job-haters.

Characteristics: people who are looking to quit are wrestling with the choice between leaving immediately, and hanging around to collect a few more paycheques while they line up their next job. Now, since most people who decide to quit a job are b-type wuss-bags, they will almost always decide on option two. Unless they are total unfeeling cunts, this lot will feel guilty about this decision. Not guilty enough to do anything about it, but guilty enough to mope around the office, become terribly nervous when superiors are in the general vacinity, and only work on short term tasks. Now, people who are quiting usually have come up for a reason why they are quitting to justify their decision to be underachieving drifters; The work is too hard, they don't get along with their co-workers, the coffee sucks, they don't get paid enough, their managers throw office supplies at them, someones touched them in a naughty place, etc...... So during this pre-quitting period, they are going to be much more vocal about these supposed injustices, as they no longer care about keeping their job.

Quick Reference description: meek, passive-agressive, sweaty palmed douchebag. Eyes will be shifty, clothes will be wrinkled. Usually will smell of cheap alcohol and failure.

Solution: Pulling off the perfect pre-quit firing is a very, very difficult task. This maneuver requires expert timing for maximum satisfaction. The integral part of this move is being able to know exactly when the person in question is going to quit. This, dear readers, is not a skill I can teach. This would be like asking a jedi how to force choke people: you can't just learn it, you've got to feel it. (oh, and to anyone who gives me that " jedi's don't know force choke. that's a dark side power" bullshit, beleive me, Jedis know the force choke, and you're a huge dork)

Anyway, once you've mastered the skill of devining an employee's quit-point, you are now free to unleash wanton mental and physical doom on them. Make them get you coffee and then tell them to bring it back when they didn't use cream instead of milk, invite them into your office and order breaktfast for two and eat both orders, or give them a fun nickname like "spud" or "dumpy". The list could go one, and on. The point is to get their blood boiling so that they're ready to give you the fucking best quit speach ever, and give you the verbal assault you more than likely deserve. They'll giggle at their desk thinking off all the stuff their going to get off their chest and the dramatic exit their going to make. Oh, what's this, a new e-mail in their inbox from the boss, eh?

Hi Gary,

Things just arn't working out. Please clear out your desk, and the security guards that are on their way will help carry your things to your car. It has been a pleasure working with you.

Sincerely,
Your lovely Boss

Oh Shit! What the Fuck Now, Pussy?! Didn't see that comming, did you Dumpy?! After reading something like this, the now ex-employee in question will be too stunned to say anything, as they've been forcebly denied their final act of revenge.

Now, there is a completely different way to play this situation. Obviously, people who are hanging on at a job before they jump ship are going to spend most of their time looking for a new job. If they are stupid, they will conduct their job hunt using the office's internet connection, meaning you and your IT demons should be able to track their corespondance with other employers. Now instead of tormenting him, become his best friend. Overload them with praise and acolades, invite them out to all the important-people lunches, give them exciting and challanging work. As soon as you know they've gotten an offer from an employer and have accepted, invite them into a meeting. Congratulate them on the fine work they've been doing, and tell them hey've been promoted and will be getting a very huge raise and a company car. Now you wait for the fish to bite the lure. Noone can resist being top fucking dog, so they will more thasn likely accept your offer. Order your IT minions to alert you as soon as this person has sent an e-mail telling the other company they've reconsidered and will be staying put. Oh Look, somethings popped into my inbox, maybe the boss wants to hit the steakhouse for lun.....

Hi Gary,

Man, did you see last nights numbers? awful bit of business, but it looks as if we're going to have to let you go. So sorry! Good luck in the future. Security is on route to help you with your things! (still up for beers later?)

Cheers,
Your Main Man! (the boss)

Wow, can you imagine? Make sure security rolls up on his cubicle with guns drawn cause this guy might go apeshit. Oh the betrayal! How's it taste, motherfucker! You were about walk out on us after years of training, paid-for lunches, and the privilage of telling people you worked for me? take that, work-hater!

Okay, so obviously I'm still alittle torn up about this guy walking out on us. I mean, what sort of job do you walk out on? It's like he was equating us to working at Taco Bell, and I think that's really what makes me upset. Meh, I've got to move on. There's work to be done here. If, outside of 9 to 5, I see him on the streets, i don't know what I'd do. Do I keep my cool, and just brush the whole situation off? Or do I do what my heart says is right and hit him in the teeth with a claw hammer?

Sincerely,

Your awesome Boss

2006-08-24T10:42:00.000-07:00

Don't send me your CV
(If you are fucking stupid)

I've been in charge of hiring my staff for about the last 5 months now, and I think i've become pretty keen at being able to distinguish a well constructed resume from a poorly crafted one. What continues to amaze me to this day is what some people think is acceptable to send in. Granted, I'm not hiring brain surgeons; I need to fill entry level sales and marketing positions. But for fuck sake, sometimes the shit that comes accross my desk that is aparently supposed to be a resume makes me fear that the educational system has failed an entire generation.

Parents, for god sake, teach your children how to put together a resume. Teach them that while most people don't read cover letters, submitting one that is obviously the same one for every job they apply for makes them look like shit-heaps that are looking for somewhere to sit and collect a paycheque.

In general, it's important for prospective employees to realize that the people they call for jobs are paying attention to everything. Comming off like a mouth breather even when not discussing job stuff is a hard hurdle to get by. For example, my company has ads out there for a number of different sales and marketing jobs. here is both the wrong and right way to do things:

THE WRONG WAY:

caller: Hi, I'm calling about the job.

Me: Okay, well we have advertized a number of different sales positions. which one were you interested in?

Caller: The sales job.

Me: Like I said, we have many different sales postions available, which one are you applying for?

Caller: Oh, well, what are my options.

Me: to hang up now, or wait to hear the dial tone. Have a nice day.

THE RIGHT WAY

Caller: Hello, i'm calling about the position advertized in the paper?

me: Okay, well we have advertized a number of different sales positions. which one were you interested in?

Caller: I'm interested in the sales postion for (specific whatever). I've heard alot of great things and simply by hearing the sound of your voice, I can tell you're are an excellent manager who is probably in amazing physical shape and has lots of sex.

me: When can you come in for an interview?

See? Easy! okay, so that last part is alittle over the top, but you get the point. be specific! this goes as well for the meat of your resume as well. Do you think I give two sweet fucks that you won the science fair in grade 5? or that you are an avid fan of star wars conventions (okay, that might score some points. but be sure to list your religion as "jedi". I don't hire sith)? keep shit pertinent, and be organized. Oh, you went to school? That's fucking lovely. What year did you go there, and what did you study? I mean, it's all well and good that you went to McGill, but if you went there 30+ years ago and took 7 years to do a 1 year certificate in philosophy, i would like to be kept in the loop.

I think sometimes i'm too nice to people comming for an interview. If somebody shows up late for an interview I should tell them the positon was filled during the time between when they were supposed to be here, and when they actually showed up.

Oh, and another thing; don't tell your interviewer your life story, and think it has a bearing on the hiring process. I'm not in the habit of handing out jobs based on my level of pity for you. And the factthat you are a lesbian born again christian who likes to garden doesn't really tell me how motivated you are about working for me.

Sorry, this is becoming an unhinged rant. I've just been kinda of depressed with the quality of people we've had apply with this batch of ad's. There are definitely a few promising applicants, so I'm hopeful we'll get ourselves a good team soon. I think I've also beome alot more discerning when it comes to the hiring process. I hate to say it, but hiring is sorta all about discrimination. I know you speak english, but if I can't clearly understand you through your accent on the phone, how can I expect our clients to understand you? And middle age people (and this is a pretty silly view, as one of our sales guys started at the age of 56 and is doing just fine) are usually a no deal. If you have so much drive and ambition, what are you doing applying for an entry level postion at your age? Shouldn't you be rich by now? I know, that's a pretty flimsy argument, but after previeous expirience, older sales people tend to expect a much higher base salary then we are willing to pay, don't take well to a 24 year old training them, are alittle dodgy when it comes to the internet, and sometimes smell like cabbage. And I'll tell you one thing; Success doesn't smell like cabbage.

Okay, i'm done. Realy. Great, my phone is ringing. I'm sure he has a aterribly written resume he's dying to send to me.

Love,

The Boss

2006-08-17T06:45:00.000-07:00

My Latest Red Herring Article

Since most of the people who visit here no longer attend my Alma Mater, I thought I'd post my most recent attempt at humor for you all to enjoy.

Adventures in Corporate Sluttery
Know Your Co-Workers (and hate them)

Hey faithful readers, it’s your old pal Jesse Gainer, back for another edition of “Adventures in Corporate Sluttery”! Most of you reading this are probably freshman, so therefore have no idea who I am, or how I came to be your “old pal”. Don’t worry, I’m confused about that, too.

I graduated from McGill about a year ago, and have since then been a manager at an anonymous and highly successful internet company. In other words, I am “the man”. I have employees, an expense account, silk ties, and a collection of cuff links. I get people to put together reports for me that I never read. I get a hard on when somebody calls me “sir”, especially if that person is significantly older than me. If we actually hired women, I could probably bang a chick in the copy room on credentials alone.

A good portion of you freshman will work in an office environment at some point in your life, either for a summer job or as a post graduate attempt at doing something with your Art’s degree other than starve. There are many different types of office jobs in a variety of industries, but one thing remains constant; the type of people who work in offices can all be placed into one of a small group of categories. It is IMPERITIVE for your success that you quickly identify who you are working with and then how to deal with them. Therefore, I have created a small guide addressing some of these office worker types, and strategies on dealing with them.

1. The Prairie Dog

If you find yourself in a cubicle situation (this is what they meant by “your own office”), prairie dogs ensure you can never have a private conversation with anyone at work ever again. These are the people whose heads pop over the divider as soon as they here human speech, because they thought someone was talking about them, or at least that’s their excuse for trying to nose in on every goddamn thing that goes on within the office. I fucking hate these people and you will too. Prairie dogs are most easily recognized by their blank, anticipating gaze and stupid half smile while they wait for you to invite them into the conversation.

Solutions:

If You Are a co-worker: The Guilt-Out. Wait for them to pop up and mutter “ did you say something” or “what was that” and then launch into the sob story to end all sob stories, the more sad the better. Tell them you just got off the phone with your grandmother whose dying of kidney failure, and since she’s in Detroit she can’t afford medical care, and ever since your brother shot himself your mother has never been the same and your dad has never stopped drinking. If you need to really put a show stopper in there, bite the bullet and use a paper clip to giver your self a number of long cuts along your arm, show them to the prairie dog, and tell him all about how you’ve taken up self-mutilation.

If You are their manager: Engage them in whatever inane conversation they’re looking for for as long as they want, and at the end of your chat give them a giant assignment due by the end of the day. If they complain, say “well, we better stop chatting, looks like you’ve got your plate full!” be sure to grin big. The work will no doubt come back shoddy, at which point feel free to fire the sweet living shit out of them. Fucking slacker.

If you are actively trying to lose your job: Put signs up all around your cube featuring the prairie dog in question’s last name and “is a Rapist”. If they protest, blow your rape-whistle. (oh, get a rape whistle)

2. The Close-Talkin’ Touchy Fella (CTTF)

Ever get stopped in the hall by Bob from accounting who is just dying to give you the highlights from last night’s hockey game only to be whipping his bacon-tinted mouth spray off of your face 10 minutes later and wondering why his description of the goal in the 3rd period required him to touch your back and shoulders so often? CTTF’s usually wear gaudy suits with no tie and their shirt unbuttoned to their naval and think showering consists of an extra healthy sprits of Axe deodorant.

If You are a Co-Worker: Discouraging this sort of creepy, pseudo-sexual behaviour requires a lot of tact if you wish to remain on somewhat good terms with the person in question. There’s no polite way to tell someone “keep your sausage fingers to yourself, chunky pants.” So what you need to do is get the office community involved. Quietly let it slip to others in your office that the CTTF in question has an unpopular disease, like scabies, lice, leprosy, or bone cancer. Watch as everyone he approaches takes 2 steps back. He’ll get the hint eventually and respect your personal space.
.
If You are their Boss: This particular manoeuvre requires absolute consistency. Whenever you see this person, give them a soul-crushing, weekend killing amount of work to do. They will start to avoid you, but don’t stop here. Actively seek them out for the worst and most terrible assignments. Make them fear you. Scream at them in front of their peers. Drive to their house for random inspections. Soon their sole purpose in life will be to make sure they do not come within 500 feet of you. Oh, and if this effects their performance, fire them. Make sure to hug them after the firing.

If you are actively trying to lose your job: First, you must bait the CTTF slightly, with a “Hey man, did you catch the game last night” or a “oh shit son, you should been at the party on the weekend.”. No CTTF can resist this, so they will swoop in close. As soon as they lay a finger on you, aggressively go to third base with them. Massage their crotch with you hand, and with your other, stroke their hair. Keep the conversation as normal as possible, but try to throw in as many kisses as possible, and breath heavy.. If they protest, or push you, call them a pussy and walk away. ( warning: this could backfire. Be prepared to make a new close friend. )

3. The Useless Sack of Shit

This is your most common enemy. You send them an e-mail, and somehow they “didn’t get it”. They are never at their desk. They think a hard day’s work consists of sending silly pictures to their friends via MSN and playing solitaire. Ask them what they are working on and they’re answer will always start with “ ummmm….ah…..well….” The Useless Sack of Shit is sometimes difficult to identify, as part of their daily routine is to appear busy.

If you are a co-worker: Useless sacks of shit are only an issue if you depend on one of them to get your own work done. If you end up having to do all the work, grit your teeth and get it done. Remember, payback is a bitch, motherfucker. One day, they will need you to bail their ass out. At this point, act as if you’ve never met them before. No, really! If they ask for your help, introduce yourself, and ask if they are new. Take them on a tour of the office. Take them to meet their supposedly new boss. If your boss happens to to remember this person works here, apologise for your mistake and explain that you hadn’t actually met them before. If they get irate and start yelling, call security and tell them a crazy person somehow got into the office. Once they’re gone, take all of their office supplies.

If You are their boss: Make friends with your IT department for this one. Get this systems administrator to load your targets computer with the filthiest pornography the internet has to offer. I’m not talking your run of the mill cum-shots, or 18 people triple dildo DVDA gang-bangs. I mean some sick shit, like donkey on infant bukkake, or baby seal fisting. Saunter over to your targets desk before they find the questionable material and ask what they are working on. They will no doubt Alt-Tab over to some assignment they should have been working on instead of reading The Onion. As soon as they do so, make them get up so you can sit down and take a closer look. Pull up the smut fest and wait for the blubbering excuses to begin. Give them the choice between termination and the police. Prank call their house later and pretend to be the police.

If You are actively trying to lose your job: If you fit this category, useless sacks of shit are rarely a worry since you don’t actually care what gets done work-wise anyway. Hell, this category might actually apply to you. But hey, if you’re attempting to go out with a bang, why not bring some other shmuck with you, right? You’re probably doing this poor person a favour, as they are obviously not happy with the direction their career has taken. So go on and give their life a jump start!
Really, anything you can think of that will get you both fired will work, but try to be creative about it. If you are proficient with Photoshop, create some images of you and your new friend double teaming the boss’s wife and make 20x30 glossy posters. Hang one on each floor of your office. Or, since useless sacks of shit are prone to periods of deep sleep within the confines of their cubicle, wait till they are asleep and hide blasting caps, oily rags, and gas cans and then start a fire in their waste paper basket. Obviously, your target will be deemed a crazed arsonist and canned on the spot, as well as arrested. As soon as they’ve cleaned everything up, take your boss aside and let him in on your gag. Be sure to laugh and say “Boy, I sure got him good”. There are definitely a lot of easier ways to get yourself and someone else fired; the point here is to be creative.

Well, I hope some of this will help you on your future white-collar adventures. Learn to identify your office enemies and strike with furious anger.

Now, I’m sure some of you are thinking “wait, if you’re a boss, why the fuck would you go to so much trouble? Why not just simply fire these people?” I can understand where you coming from; you’re students, and have yet to experience the pleasure of having employees. Why fuck with these people? Because I can, Goddamnit! After you’ve fired enough people, the experience is repetitive and boring. Do you know how many people cry the exact same way? Boo hoo, I’ll try harder, I promise! Can’t I have another chance? Blah, blah, blah,…. It’s monotonous, and after a while I’ve realized I’m not a sharp as I once was, and the people I was firing weren’t getting my full attention.. Therefore, my final parting advice to you is if you ever rise to a position of power, and have employees who need to be fired, be creative in your efforts, as you will learn to enjoy it, and the ex-employee will thank you for the experience, or die of malnutrition.

Jesse Gainer

2006-06-20T12:31:00.000-07:00

My Skinny White Ass is Genetic

(Christmas Swim 2005)

Yup, that's right ladies, I didn't have to work for this body, DNA worked it's motherfucking mojo.

Tash and I are heading to Cape Breton on Friday for 8 or 9 days. I'm really stoked to be going on vacation, and am looking forward to spending time with my folks and my brother. A solid week of good food, good times, beach bumming, and general slothiness; Can't wait.

I also get to go to my good friend Kim's wedding. Oh, and it shall be an indie rock affaire with much cuffed-jean (or maybe cuffed-dress pant?) pompe and horn-rimmed glasses circumstance! Their wedding song will be something by Metic, or Postal Service, or whoever (i'm really not cool enough to listen to indie rock), and 60% of the guests will spend the rest of the evening talking about how their first album was better. In all seriousness, i'm really excited for Kim. This Rob fellow is definetely "good people", and Kim seems happier than she has a long while, so good stuff dude (mind you, their respective Indie Jedi Powers could be enough to destroy the planet as we know it.)!

Is that picture blinding anyone yet? Yes? okay good, that was my intent. See you all after my Vacation, bitches!

Love,

Jesse

2006-06-12T11:43:00.000-07:00

My Nerves Suck

I went to a wedding on saturday. The person getting married was a friend of Tasha's from work who basically invited everyone she's ever met, so I was able once again to use the BF card to get on the guestlist. (Woot) It was your standard, awesome Greek wedding.

So, after the ceremony, we head to this Giant reception hall where we are treated to an open bar and lots of food. Once we are able to go into the dining room, we greet the family and sit. I finally got to meet all of the people Tasha works with, which was really awesome. Good people! Especailly this Pasquale fellow.

Alright, so to the point of this story; the MC gets on and starts announing the honor table. Pretty standard stuff; mom and dad, flower girls, ring boys, yadda, yadda, yadda, and then the big finale, The Bride and Groom! So they walk in and their names are read and just at that point men with guns stood up and started blasting off shots into the air inside the fucking reception hall. I damn near shit a brick. At this point, Tasha leans over and goes "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you there would be guns. It's a tradition in Crete!" Wow, just wow.

The fucked up thing was the effect of the shooting on me. Initially, I was shook up, but cool with it, but after awhile, the constant blast of gunfire unexpectedly just killed my nerves and i think I had a minor panic attack. it was cool, i just needed to get some air every once and a while, and we left a little early, cause it was getting to be a bit much. I was litterally a ball of nerves till I got to sleep. i think I also just got freaked out by getting freaked out.

Anyway, without delving too far into my ultra sensitivity to sudden loud noises, the interesting thing here is the tradition of firearms at a wedding ceremony. From a political science standpoint, this sort of thing seems to make sence in areas of the world with long histories of conflict, civil or otherwise. As the conflict affects the daily lives of inhabitents, who are forced to arm themselves, weaponry works its way into the traditions of the culture. I'm surprised there wasn't a wedding game called "shoot the turkish target". Anyone know anything about this beyond my theoretical conjecture?

2006-06-06T13:08:00.000-07:00

Happy Satan Day!

Boo! Slayer's new album is not hitting stores today. Yes, I like Slayer.

Yes, within this clean cut, HC fashionista exterior beats the heart of a long haired, unshaven dirtbag, pumping my fist and swinging my ugly locks to songs about satan, war, and death. Although there is the occasional metal band here and there that comes out with a ditty that I like, I'm really not a metal fan, But I love Slayer. It's interesting (well it's interesting to me in an extremely self centered way, so by extention, i assume you are interested) because when I meet new people and we get on the topic of music and someone asks me what type of music I like, i invariably say "Hardcore", and I know, i just fucking know, they think I'm talking about "linkin Park" or "Staind" or any other radio friendly band that has guitars with distortion, but I can't launch into a pre-emptive diatribe, because then I'm the " I listen to exteme, underground music, and you just don't understand me" guy and although I am that guy to a certain extent, I don't need everyone knowing how uncool I am; I have a reputation to think of. Also, alot of people that hear the music I listen to would just assume it's metal, and assume I'm a metal fan. Don't get me wrong, like I said, there are some deadly metal bands out there; Children of Bodom, Lamb of God, Martyr & Cryptopsy ( both from the MTL, baby), and of course, the best metal band of all time, the aformentioned Slayer, but because so much of my enjoyment of music is derived from the lyics, and the sence of authenticity created thusly, Metal as rule is a little too fanciful. I can only take so many songs about the Dark Lord Of The Abyss Of Sorrow, Peeling Your Skin Off Using Lemon Juice and a Lady Bic, or the Wings of the Flame Dragon; i mean, how do I relate? Am I a spawn of the sulfer pits? Am I a Deranged Torturer? am I a mythological beast? Sure, i need my dose of music about defacing the bible with swimming pools full of blood, but on whole, i need my music to speak to me alittle more.

Is your musical taste misunderestood? Need a forum to vent? Want me to ridicule your favorite band? Post a comment!

2006-06-02T08:03:00.000-07:00

Y Rly...

I'm a terrible blogger. Lots has gone on in since my last post, but nothing thast I thought i needed to write about, but today is a perfect day to post something, as I am really being a lazy sod at the office today. So Enjoy!

I recently went on a trip to Ottawa to visit Iain and The One Who Should Be Obeyed (Iain's beautiful wife Allison...don't kill me) It was great so see them both, and good to see them both doing so well. Their house is terribly, terribly cute and domestic, and it's just so funny to see my friend Iain, who used to be mr. Party guy (I shall discuss Frank the Tank syndrome later in this post), in his little house with his wife and two cats. Tash and I went up to ottawa on the friday, got a hotel that night, and met up with Iain and Allison on saturday. Allison took Tasha on a girly shopping mission, and I joked before I left that Allison should make sure Tasha doesn't go shopping-crazy and buy a whole bunch of shit. The girls took off, leaving Iain and myself to our own devices. Iain suggested we go to Long & McQuade (giant chain musical instrument store) and browse for drum stuff. (Iain is also a drummer. Actually, Iain's a much better drummer than me. He plays in a band called Finger of Knowledge, or as I like to call them; Penis of Enlightenment). Long story short, we both ended up buying stuff. Well, we both got the same things (new heads), he just got all new heads, I just ended up getting a new bass drum head, and a new floor tom skin. The Long & McQuade people are really helpful, and let you demo everything. One of the drum dudes even took my number cause he said his band was looking to play a show in MTL (might have just been a sales tactic, but it worked none the less.). So yeah, Tasha was smart and didn't buy anything, and I flew off the handle at the music store. So what?! Fuck off!

That night we went out to Yuk Yuk's and it was actually "The Montreal Show", so we got the chance to see Joey Elias, one of my favorite MTL comedians. We sat right up front, and this probably drunk woman says to me "oh yeah, leave you hat on, Joey loves them hats" and I wanted to say "yeah, i'm sure he'll pick on my hat instead of the drunk 40 something who looks like she's about to wet herself". But I didn't. No need starting a bar fight while visiting friends. So, just as predicted, Joey Elias comes out, and soon enough he's tearing me a new one. Man, I was almost laughing so hard I almost threw up, this guy is so good. I'd write down what I remember, but I doubt I could do it justice, and it would loose his classic delivery. I went up to him afterwords and bought a CD, and he thanked me for being such a good sport. I can't believe some people would actually take that stuff personally, you're at a comedy club in the first row, what do you think is going to happen? Anyway, good times had by all. Tash and Allison decided to pack it in, so Iain and I went to this bar called Whiskey and had some...um...Whiskey. One thing at the bar I noticed is how lucky I am to have Montreal nightlife, and montreal people populating that nightlife. White people from Ontario, from what I can acertain, have no sence of style, and also no rythem, and must also be mandated by law to dance like they have a large stick in their bum.

On the Sunday, we took off for Allison's parents cabin in northern Quebec. great time, besides the weather. Allison's mum, step-dad, little brother Adrienne, and crazy dog Chester came up as well, so it was good times had by all. We played alot of scrabble. I won once, but I didn't get a chance to play one on one with Tasha and beat her, as that is something that must happen soon.
We drove back to the OT, said our goodbyes and drove back to the MTL.

My buddy Shaun Arsenault (refered to in a previous post as The Asshat) celebrated a birthday while I was away, so it was time to celebrate. Shaun recently gave up the sauce, so I was alittle confused as to what to do, since all of our birthdays past had consisted of taking each other out and getting one another respectively fucked up. Or, as Wick would put it; Casually Plastered. So, Tuesday, I took him and a group of people to Dundee's for their gutbusting Ribs and Wings plate. We hung out, watched the game, shot the shit. good times. though, still, bithday styles on a tuesday isn't enough birthday times, so I arranged for everyone to go out to Foufone electric on satuday. Total awesome shit show. An impromptu party broke out at my house the night before, and Willsy even came down for the festivities. Here is where wew shall tell the Frank the Tank story:

Iain Wills is a lovely man. Loving husband, great friend, good provider for his family of cats. Goes to home Depot and Bed, Bath, and Beyond all in the same day, even if it doesn't look like there is going to be enough time. Iain was always the most responsable out of everyone in our crew at McGill. But, every once and a while, Mr. Stewart Wills would go alittle off the handle on the sauce, and truly becomes "the drunkest man in Canada"

The day of the party, Willsy shows up. We hang out, play some music, and then start making plans for the night. Wick's asked if wecould pick him up some booze on our travels, so while we were at the SAQ, Iain and I decided we'd be drinking beer at the bar, so why not get soming harder for the pre-drink. So we decide to split a bottle of Jack Daniels. So we start drinking, and people show up, and we're having a good time, and then I see it.

Oh No......Iain's holding the bottle.

See with Iain, if you've known him long enough, you can see it comming. his smile gets wider, he goes alittle flush in the face, he starts slurring, and it's all very suttle, but if he's at this point, he's passed the point of no return. Before we left for the bar, i couldn't find him. sure enough, our friend Iain had wrapped himself around the toliet. Iain did not make it to the bar. Anyway, we all had an excellent time at foufone's, and I might have drank alittle too much (not as much as Iain though, hehe) . The next morning, we all went out for lunch, and Iain puked in the bathroom of the restaurent. Classy, man....real classy. Thus, Iain's weekend ranging has been diagnosed as "Frank the Tank" syndrome.

Moving on, this week has been flying by. Tonight, the crazy fellas in Papa Justify are playing a show, so I'm going to go out and suppoort my buddys. Tommorow though, oh tommorow will be glorious. Not only are we decending on the Montreal Beer Festival, but as always this trip means one very special thing: PANCAKE FALOOZA! (def; traditional pancake gorging party before beer fesitval to ensure maxium beer drinking ability)

Alright, that's pretty much everything up untill now. I just wasted my entire morning at work.

2006-04-25T06:11:00.000-07:00

A Heartbreaking Story of Emily's Stupidity.

Okay, a short post today, but a funny story I thought some might appreciate. Those of you who know me well, know that I can be forgetful. I am also slightly disorganized at times. Due to the unfortunate combination of these two personality traits, I also have a terrible habit of misplacing things.

Approximately one year ago, Emily lent me her copy of Dave Eggers' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Now, upon lending me the book, she stated quite emphatically that I was to be very careful with it, as this was a limited edition. I logged this up in my skull, as I knew I had to be extra careful not to treat this book like my own possessions, as it would undoubtedly end up dog-eared, rip-covered, and on a bus for Hamilton in 3 months.

I read the book (awesome!) and finished it around the time I was moving to 4067, so I carefully packed it away with the rest of my books and trucked it over to the news digs. About 8 months pass. Emily pops on messenger one day and asks "hey, do you still have my Eggers book?" to which I reply very proudly "Of course I do, I packed it all special, so it's without a doubt in my house. Just give me a couple of days and I shall get it to you." I went home from work that day and opened up the suitcase which contained the book and....

What the fuck?

Where is it?

I started to panic. I knew I’d put it in this suitcase. But then, coming to grips with my shortcomings, I realize I must have screwed up somewhere along the line. A couple of days pass. Emily pops on MSN. "Hey, so did you get my book yet." "Oh sorry, Em, Been really busy it work. But i'll be sure ot get it to you." Stalling was stupid, I know, this could only go on for so long, but I was convinced this book was in my house. So, I went home one day and just tore the motherfucker apart. I looked everywhere for this book. I checked and rechecked everything I had stored in the basement. I basically pulled everything I own off the walls and checked every possible space in my room for this book. I even interrogated my poor roommates about borrowing my shit without asking.
More days pass. Emily comes on MSN "Dude, I really want my book back, it's a limited edition you know, so it can't be replaced." "Dude, don't worry! haha, it's hear somewhere, I'll find it." I almost started avoiding MSN altogether out of sheer guilt. The book was nowhere to be found.

Yesterday, I went to work as always. Emily comes on MSN "Hey" she says. " Hey" I say back. I pause for a second, then I just let it all out. "Emily, I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner, but I think I've lost your book. I know it was a limited edition, and it can't be replaced, so the best I can do is get you a more recent edition. I am so Sorry!"

Silence. Oh lord, I've crushed her. Emily is a librarian, so she loves her books. I would have rather told her I accidentally beat her cat to death with a sock full of quarters that I stole from her Mother's dialysis money.

"We're no longer friends" she says.

My initial reaction to this statement was black guilt at being so careless, but then reality set in. "Wait a second" I thought, "that statement could actually be alittle sarcastic...could she possibly be okay?"

"haahaahaha" She LOL's. (yes, I made it into a verb, because I'm L33T like that.)

"Guess what, I found the book at my house yesterday. Guess I must have come and picked it up months ago and we both forgot. haha"

OMGSTFUBBQ. (I didn't actually say that over msn to her, as there are only a select crew of people I know that could accurately interpret what emotion that accyronym...um...emotes.(?))

If I wasn't equally to blame for being THAT forgetful, I would punch you in the ovaries, Emily. That's right, right in the babymakers.

Ugh,

Le Jesse

2006-04-17T11:02:00.000-07:00

Guns Up!

Happy Easter Everyone! Well, while I can't claim to have had as awesome a weekend as Ali (http://hippychickali.blogspot.com/), mine was still at an acceptable level of awesomeness. Friday was basically a write-off, as I was recovering from a cold so I sat in my house and played video games all day. Saturday, I awoke feeling much better, which put me in a great mood, as there was a concert I wanted to go to that night, and I would have been none too happy if I had to bow out due to illness. The concert Saturday was totally rad. Sheldon had told me to go see this group, Guns Up! (pictured Above) whenever they came to town, and so...um....I went. Shaun and I walked into L'inco, and after spending mad chedda on merch, we tried to find some place to chill out before the show started. There was some dude sitting by a table that had some empty chairs, so we asked him if we could join him. The guy turned out to be the guitar player for Guns Up! and was a really nice dude. The first band to play, Aces & Eights, wasn't too impressive, so we just hung out with this Ricky guy for that set, which was fun. As a Guns Upper, Ricky obviously new pretty much everyone in the Boston scene, so his name dropping kept both Shaun and I in a state of Fan-boy rapture. The most interesting story that Ricky told, however, was that his boss was going away for 2 years on a vehicular manslaughter charge, and that his boss also happened to be one of the members of the band Anal Cunt (To quote Kristen McLean "I don't care what any of you motherfuckers say, Anal Cunt is the best fucking band in the world!" ...they realy arn't, but noone living or dead was more punk than these guys). I also had a great discussion with him about the whole FSU scene in Boston, and similar youth crew movements in today's scene as a whole. As someone who attends and plays shows where their is a great FSU presence, Ricky definately brought up some ponts I hadn't thought about. hrmm, maybe my next semi-serious post will be an op-ed about FSU and the Youth Crew movement...hrm......

Anyway, on to the show. Besides Guns Up!, the rest of the bands were local, which was cool, because I had really lost touch with the local HC scene, since before my newfound appreciation for traditional Hardcore, the only shows I was going to within the genre were for big name away bands (Read: Trustkill/Ferret bands.) who would always bring other away bands with them as openers. The local group who impressed me the most was Final Word. Man, did these guys know how to get the crowd moving. I didn't know any of their music, but they put me in the mood to dance! Well, mind you, screaming "Turn this place into a fucking mad house!" at a room full of testosterone-fueled HC kids will generally produce an acceptable level of kick-ass independent of the screamer. On the dancing note, in my never ending quest to be cool and fit in, I watched alot of the more expirienced dancers and gained alot of insight into performing the "Two-Step" without looking like a complete knob. It seems that while footwork is important, proper upper body and hand position is key.

Guns Up! played last, and due to an unfortunate scheduling problem, their regular drummer couldn't be there, and the guy who was going to fill in (The drummer from Shipwreck), couldn't make it last minute, so they only had time to teach this other replacement guy like 4 or 5 songs. The set was short, but then they invited anyone onstage to freestyle lyrics to their new song, and this guy, who I'd seen at other shows, gets up, and just lets loose on the mike. And you know what? He wasn't half bad! it was just really funny, and it put everyone in an awesome mood.

We were then invited to join the Gun's Up! fellows at a club after the show, so after returning home, shaun and I dropped off our treasure trove of merch, and picked up the other roomies, and headed out for Vinal (Old Luba Lounge); a very chilled out hip hop lounge with reasonably priced drinks. Good times had by all.

Another funny story from the Guns Up! crew was the line up for Hellfest this year, which happens to be in France. The traditonally all HC fest will this year include such awesome acts as Korn, Alice in Chains, Moterhead, and Tool! (hey, don't get me wrong, I like Tool, Moterhead, and AiC, but this is like, um, Pat Benetar playing at Edgefest.) Ricky brought up an awesome point though. From his perspective, this is awesome, because he can tell people he partied with Korn. How many people can say that?

On Sunday, we had a big Easter dinner, complete with turkey, roast beef, potatoes, veggies, and wine. Big ups to Colleen for most of the cooking effort. The food was fucking awesome, and I slepted like a tranquilized rock.

I Miss my Girlfriend! Come Home Soon, Hunny!

Love,

Le Jesse

2006-03-29T07:18:00.000-08:00

It took me a while, but I finally recovered from my birthday. As you can see, I had a phenomenal time. (the drink I'm currently spilling all over myself is a reverse boiler-maker, which consists of about 4 to 5 ounces of wiskey in a glass, with a shotglass full of beer dropped into the glass prior to consumption)

The whole weekend was enjoyable, actually. My good friends Iain and Allison ( AKA "The Wife") came down from Ottawa for both St. Patties and My birthday. They were nice enough to take Tasha and I out to dinner on saturday night (See, I didn't know they were going to pay, and so I went ahead and ordered the most expensive meal on the menu...Thanks guys...)

St. Pat's was good, but I was TIRED. We went to Brutopia and got pretty drunk. The fun part of the evening was running the straight up homosexual cockblock for Shane, who was being unfairly propositioned by a female of questionable mental stability (think Stacy from Wayne's World.) I could tell he was trying really hard to get out of the conversation, so I just walked right between them, wrapped my arms around Shane, and then just got down with the funk. After that, things got hazy ( read: I fell asleep) .

I woke the next morning and had a great breakfast with Tasha, Iain, and Allison. The rest of the day was pretty boss; the boys came over, and we all played music for a couple of hours. The plan for the night was a party at my house, then off to Foufones. Unfortunately, a couple people didn't end up comming, as a mutual friend's band was playing the same night, but we had a good crew anyway. Alexia's birthday was that weekend as well, and she not only invited a bunch of people over, but had two friends staying at the house from France, who were both hilarious. Usually, the french/english devide makes joint parties alittle awkward, but Alexia's friends were very cool with us all being anglos, and everyone got along great.

Got to Foufones around midnight, and it was a great time. Good music, lotsa drinks, and a nice crew of people. Shaun Wicks was there, too. Shaun Wicks is an awesome fellow, if only for the fact that extended exposure to him ultimately ends in intoxication. Shaun has also inspired me to start working out again, although I feel guilty cause I ahven't been able to start at the gym because of lack of funds. Don't worry man, soon enough. I can't feel too bad though, cause aparently, during the birthday revelry, he punched me square in the kisser. Sure Shaun, you hand "grazed" my should and "accidently" caught me in the jaw. Just wait till I get huge, jackass, cause your going down to chinatown. Fuck the Thunder and the Lightening; be prepared for the "Jack Bauer" and the "Chuck Norris".

Okay, I am rambling, but I'm bored at work. Um, lets see, other random topics involving me that I assume, due to my mutant narcisism (it's glandular), you would find interesting..... Oh, what the Hay..random political commentary! On with the show:

Man, can someone tell me where drugs George W. Bush was on during his interview on CTV came from? Cause I've got to get me some of those. He was rational, charismatic, polite, relatively well spoken, and all without a hint of fire and brimestone. In the television industry they refer to things like this as Jumping the Shark. The term refers to the direction a television show takes when there is fear the show will be canceled due to lack of ratings. Make a main character die, or worse, gay (see, i'm not usually homophobic in my posts, so this could be another example of Jumping the Shark. Learning is fun!). Send the hero into space, introduce a cross dressing hippo as a new sidekick, whatever, just make it drastic enough to catch people off guard. In politics, this usually happens sometime during a presidents first term, as he needs to get people interested enough in him around election time to vote him in for the second term. But wait, this is W.'s last kick at the can, what the hell is he so worried for? Couldn't he very well order a preemptive tactical nuclear strike against Poland while doing a line of coke off of his daughter's back, and not have to give it a second thought? Legacy, Ladies and Gentlemen, Legacy. Would you want to be remembered as the president that conducted a less than ethical war in the Middle East (Round 2: Iran - FIGHT!), choked on a pretzel, referred to the citizens of a fine South Asian nation as "Paki's", created the WMD craze, ignored a key briefing on the levy situation in New Orleans, etc....yeah, it's a long list. See, if you shit your pants in the third grade, and you live in a town where you likely will see the same people till highschool, you will do everything in your power to change people's perception of you, because anything's better than being known as "Brown Note" for the rest of your life. So, this new Geroge W. Bush, The concensus builder, the environmentalist, the baby kisser, is Jumping the Shark for legacy sake. Is this a bad thing?

Absolutely not.

This means shit will finally get done. Promises will be fulfilled, and social spending will actually happen. Is it being done for altruistic reasons? fuck no, but hey, can we complain? To give W. his dues, the guy is very much an action president. I pretty much disagree with 9 out of 10 of those actions, but he was at least decisive when it came to fucking things up. Now, because of the legacy time frame, it's possible he might channel this decisiveness into popular agendas. Thank christ. Maybe finally , the leader of the free world will take it apon himself to exersize the powers of his office, and get us a new Transformers movie. Oh, and more side-boob.

Oh! One last important note, I'm having a party on March 31st (this friday) it's the end of the year Red Herring Ragin' Box Social. Show up at 9:00pm and bring a small cash donation to help support the magazine. should be lotsa fun.

Snakes on a Motherfucking Plane. 2006.

2006-03-13T11:51:00.000-08:00

And I'm Back

So where do I start? It's been a while since I've posted anything. I guess the first thing to talk about would be my vacation to Cuba. Man oh man, I don't even know where to start. It was the best time I've had in a long time. Tasha and I stayed here: http://www.sandalshicacos.com/

That's right, bitches. Drool with envy! hehe. I have a hard time describing how awesome this place was. I really have to remeber to bring my camera to work so I can post pictures to my photostockplus.com site. My biggest pre-conceived notion that was dashed apon arriving was that All Inclusive resorts replaced quality with quantity. I was expecting average meals, and dixie cup size drinks. Man, was I wrong! Lobster and steak dinners almost every night, and in terms of booze, I was sitting in the pool bar (yes, it's a pool with a motherfucking swim up bar. Snap.) and the guy sitting beside me orders a pina colada, but then says " and can you throw some extra dark rum on it?" and I'm all like "silly guy, asking for extra booze." and the bar tender is like "sure, here you go." and drizzles his pina colada in tonnes of extra rum. My jaw almost hit the motherfucking ground. I almost came right out of the pool at the bar tender "Do the same thing for ME!"

We had some sucky weather initally, so alot of time was spent hanging out, eating, and i picked up an appreciation for fine cuban cigars. Also, what was really cool about the shit weather was that Tasha and I played alot of chess. She knew how to play, but we had never played together, and it was really fun. As someone who doesn't play that much, she is actually quite good, and is a very thoughtful player. I usually hate playing with people who don't play, since they don't think out the consequences of their moves, but she plays a hell of a game and plays smart. Well, then the weather got nice, so it was beach time. Man, oh man, you never quite believe water can be that color untill you see it, and then swim in it. It's like a fucking bath. But Cooler! I think I had one of those "this is the life" moments our first day of nice weather. I'm sitting on a beach chair, the sun is blazing, tasha's tanning, i'm smoking a big cuban cigar, and a waiter comes running up the beach, stops, and says, "sir, can I bring you anything from the bar" at which point I order Tasha and I somewhere between 4 to 6 Mojitos. Awesome

Oh, and at the end of the trip, we went of a snorkling excursion. They basically boat you out to this protected coral reef, give you fins and a mask, dump you in the water, and start tossing in food. The best analogy I can make is to say that snorkling at a coral reef is basically like watching the best cartoon ever after eating 16 bowls of Lucky Charms. I could do nothing but laugh the first time i put my face in the water and realized I was literally surrounded by millions of acid trip colored fish.

Leaving Cuba was sad, and arriving in Canada was harsh, since we went from +30 to -18 with wind. Although, I can't whine too much, because 4 days after I got back from vacation, work put me on a plane to Orlando, Florida. The Orlando trip was the busiest work trip i've ever been on (first time traveling without the boss), but it was nice to sit by the hotel pool with a beer and one of my cigars ( Don Thomas' from dominican Rep. [not bad!] Not stupid enough to bring Cubans into the states) and think "heh, I'm getting paid to do this" . The trip has prooved to be a pretty successful one for us, just in terms of the type of people at the convention, and the outcome of some meetings I had whilst I was there.

So, finally back in montreal, I have a new employee start. OMFGSTFUBBQ it's a girl! She's turning out to be an awesome employee, although I constantly have to deal with people accusing me of hiring her because she was attractive. Mind you, that shit's stopping pretty quick now that she's starting to really kick some ass. Thank god my girlfriend is well adjusted and trusts me, cause I could have also seen this causing a strain on my relationship if I was dating a nut job.

So things have been rolling well. Sheldon Grant, AKA Relic, came to visit this weekend. Him and gaggle of eastcoasters came up to see the Death Threat, Shipwreck, Death Before Dishonour, Hammer Bros, show (For all of you who read this post and do not recognize the band names, it's more of that yelling music I like). This show was awesome, but one thing stood out about this show that made it one of the best shows I've been to in a long time. Keep in mind, I've heard a couple of tracks from one or two of the bands, but on the whole, I don't know much and was going on the suggestion of Sheldon who said I'd like what I was going to hear. And to tell you the truth, the music was totally awesome, but that wasn't why it was such a good show, and I'll tell you why.

I was scared.

Yes, scared. It was the first time in a long time I'd been to a show and felt like it was dangerous to be there, yet I actualy felt a genuine sence of community with the people in the room. This was truley dangerous music. I saw a kid get his fucking nose broken in the first song. Oh no, he wasn't just bopping along and accidentally caught a flying hand, he was knocked down and shin kicked in the fucking face. And I actually talked to a guy I met at the show about it. (nice fellow from Peterburough. Everyone check out his band, Three Point Stance. Best merch ever.) This love of dangerous music has been a progression for many years in my life, as I assume it has been in many people's lives. In high school it was punk rock, because it truley to me seemed like the people making that music were serious about the message, and not just if they hit the right notes. I could never get into alot of contemporary rock/alternative music, because it all sounded so pre-packaged, so over produced, so safe. From punk, I get into hardcore bands like Poison the Well, Bleeding Through, 18 Visions, Snapcase, etc...basically, if you were on Trustkill records, I was your biggest fan. Now, don't get me wrong, i'm still a big fan of alot of these bands, but lately, some of these previous heavy hitters seem to care alittle too much for make-up and image, and I've found myself drifting towards more traditional Hardcore bands like Death Threat, Bury your dead, Judge, Blood for Blood, etc because although the music is really simple, it cannot possibly ring more true. This whole line of thought also made me think of the book I just finished reading, Lullaby by Chuck Palhaniuk. In the book, a scenario is described in which all sounds would have to be censored, and essentially be cleaned before people could here them, as they could be physically dangerous. I thought it was a neat, however blatent, analogy to the constant trend in western media to dumb things down, and to make sure all content is political correct, or safe.

Now I know this part of my post may sound like some angsty teenager defending his rap music collection, but it's seriously the first time in a long time I was in a situation where I had that feeling of both fear and belonging at the same time. To celebrate this moment of enlightenment, I bought merch. We actually cleaned up like bandits in terms of merch. Heh, we're so cool.

Oh, and to the drunk, barrel-assed, Bostonian that was at the show (because I know you read my blog); causing an entire room of people including members of the bands you came to see to hate your guts for being a completely annoying piece of shit might tell you it's time to stop drinking at shows. If you woke up the next day with a pounding headache, it's not a hangover, it's because the giant guy you spit on after punching decidided he didn't quite like your behavior and knocked your fat ass out. You were a walking advertisment for the sXe movement. (p.s. don't worry everyone, Ol' Jesse hasn't jumped on the wagon just yet, but I have to give sXe kids alot of credit since, unless your a preachy bastard, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being Straight Edge, and it's definately a good thing to promote. well, unless your a fat piece of shit drunk who is demonstrating the woes of obesity and alcoholism.)

Till next time!

2006-02-03T13:14:00.000-08:00

Of Rights and Responsabilities

Those of you who know me, know that I hold a rather strong belief in freedom of expression. As an extension of this strong belief, I am also, unsurprisingly, very much in support of freedom of the press. The recent events involving the publication of anti-Islamic political cartoons have created much debate on the issue, and in my opinion, the debate has centered on the wrong issue.

Asking whether or not a paper should have the right to publish those cartoons is silly. Of course they should have that right. The press should be free from legal or government pressure when selecting material to make public. The debate here should be about the responsibility of the press.

Every blog and opinion piece I read says something along the lines of " Well, make an anti-Christian Cartoon, and nobody says anything, but as soon as you criticize Islam, Muslims freak the fuck out and start killing people" To those who take such a narrow minded view of the issue, I say this " Well, what the fuck did you expect?" We live in dangerous times. The Muslim world is at the epicentre of global scrutiny, and the majority of Muslim countries are currently involved in some of the worst violence seen there in decades. To attack the religion as violent neglects both current history and geo-political factors. The reason anti-Jesus cartoons fly in North America is because we live in a stable social democracy with a government that has a monopoly on coercive force, and have developed a system of justice that allows people to follow non-violent discourse when they have a grievance. So is this strictly a Muslim problem? Go to some parts of Northern Ireland with a t-shirt on that says " Protestants = Godless Retards" and see if you last 5 minutes.

In my opinion, the press had every right in the world to publish those cartoons. But was the act ethically irresponsible to the eight millionth degree? Fuck yes. Now, am I saying the press should back off when reporting on possibly sensitive issues? No, not at all. These cartoons added nothing to the current discourse. They were crude, and their message was offensive. Basically, the gist of the cartoons was that Terrorism is intrinsic to the religion of Islam. Don't even get me started on that fucking non-sensical, "kettle calling the pot black", xenophobic bullshit. So I would support the press reporting information that could upset people if it was helpful, but these cartoons were essentially tasteless hate mongering.

Basically, freedom within society can never be absolute freedoms when in the context of society. The conditions necessary for people to live together require individuals to consent, both tacitly and explicitly, to some constrains on freedom. I'm free to say what I want, but, to use the famous example, I can't scream fire in a crowded theatre. By printing these cartoons, the press has essentially done just that.

Oh, and I also hate the Dutch.

2006-01-30T12:44:00.000-08:00

Chuck Norris, when not busy being Optimus Prime, is He-Man.

So I'm finally back from Texas. Woo! Yeeha! I actually had a great time, and the work part of it was not bad at all. The convention schedual was pretty lax, and allowed us to explore Austin pretty thuroughly. I even had some time to visit with David Mader, a good buddy of mine who also went to McGill. He's down at U of Texas studying law. What a smarty pants. Oh, and I think you can literaly go blind from Tequila. Tequila can also turn a CLM (Career Limiting Move) into a CEAIRD ( Career Ending Alcohol Induced Rampage of Doom) . Luckly my employers enjoy getting on the sauce just as much as I do.

In other news Shaun ( http://www.4067-paper-street.blogspot.com ) and Shane ( http://spaces.msn.com/sylphidshane/ ) bought new guitars. This means Paper Street is back on a semi regular practice scheduale. All MTL'er who read this get ready for lotsa live shows. Oh fuck, and speaking of practice, allow me to use this wonderful forum to publicly shit all over my wonderful roomate and bassplayer Shaun.

Yeah, there he is. What a fuck-bag. I get back from my girlfriend's house, and I'm pretty sick and very tired. I go down to the basement to find Shane and Shaun jamming on their new guitars, ready to start our first practice in a long time. In the first two sentences shaun speaks to me, I get basically this (I'm paraphrasing) " dude, your face is realy broken out, you look terrible, you sound like your going to die, I like your old belt buckle better, and you're stupid" Nice to see you too, pal. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I put it to you to decide whether the above pictured individual (who will from this point forward be refered to as " The Asshat" for brevity sake) is qualified to make such statements. On the photo evidence alone, we are able to acertain that this simple creature's nasal cavities could be used as major industrial filters, based simply on their sheer girth. Also, as you can see, the Asshat is clearly touching his hands. This is due to the fact that the Asshat is a chronic masturbator, and subsequently gets very itchy hands which require constant rubbing. Also, to the untrained eye, it would appear as though the Asshat is indeed talking to a female who happens to be out of the shot. upon closer analysis, it turns out that the Asshat was actually talking to a 12 year old cross-dressing Taiwanese boy, propositioning him for foul sex acts, the kinds of which I shall not discuss in this post. sickening.

So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. I give you The Asshat; Social parasite or Puertorican Flash Dancer? Knuckle dragging mouth breather or Transexual Rights activist. You be the Judge.

2006-01-16T09:55:00.000-08:00

How Drunk was I On Friday Night?

You Be The Judge.

Man, what a weekend. Tasha's best friend Lin was in town visiting from Chicago, so there was must going-out to be had. This particular photo was actually from Friday's outing to Biftek, my favorite local dive. My geek-sister Mounia is being deported back to Morocco due to some awesome red tape paperwork fuck up, and won't be back for 3 months. Therefor, the only solution to the problem was to get blind, stinkin', drunk!

I, like everyone else on the planet, hate red tape, and I'm amazed that with today's technology, a student still has to return to their country of origin and miss a semster of school just because an i was left undotted.

I leave for Texas this friday. Thank Christ, cause it's starting to get really fucking cold here. And, Cross your Fingers, I might actually make it to Cuba next month with Tasha. W00t!

And for the ultra-dorks, Eddie and I have resolved our differences in regards to fighting games. He finally admitted I was right and he was wrong, and that he was infact a poo face. Eddie, I appreciate and respect your humility and tact. You are truly the better man.

Oh, and My friend Gabe took this picture of me. Eat Horseshit, you artistic motherfucker.

Le Jesse

2006-01-11T06:01:00.000-08:00

I Choose To Disagree.....

Okay, while it's of little importance to pretty much everyone besides two people who read this, I have to put my two cents in regarding both Eddie and Mounia's comments regarding 3D fighters. Ahem; both of you are stupid-heads, and smell like poo poo.

Okay, let me elaborate; While many of the first wave of Three-Dee fighting games (read: the first couple virtua fighters, DOA 2, Bloody Roar [still a fucking awesome game that nobody played] Tekken 1 though 3 and tag, etc) are most definately button mashers, the newest generation of these games require much more skill than the old school 2D fighters. But to clarify this point, I think I must make light of the major difference between these types of games, besides their respective graphical fortitude.

Side scrolling, or 2d, fighting games, are like spelling bees. Players wait patiently on either side of the screen and then launch into the sunday's best memorized litany of violent fury, hoping that they correctly put to memory the 36 button combination that will quickly end the fight. No Eddie, your triple hakdoken purple fireball raining meteor flaming cowboy combo still looks pretty. My point being that there is no detailed back and forth with the old games. With the new generation of fighters, the physics model is alot more intuitive, and the combat actually recuires to you pay attention to what is going on and react to each move. As well, new generation 3d fighters also include enviromental factors, like fighting on top of a building and being able to fall off, instead of, well you know, a foot and a half left or right.

And beleive me, i'm a sucker for historical value. there are some pre-milenium games that I don't think could ever be topped by modern technology, but to say that fucking King of Fighter's is the be all and end all of two dimentional combat isn't just stupid, it's offensive. The main good guy looks alike he delivers pizza. Guy's wearing a mesh back hat in the ninties? Teh Lame. I mean, why not something out of the street fighter library? shit, i think my favorite 2d is one of the newer, rediculous ones: Marval Vs. Capcom 2. haha, just madness. Akuma, Wolverine, and some crazy motherfucker with a lightsaber = un-fucking -stoppable.

S0, in closing, Eddie and Mounia, I appreciate your fanatical dedication to a bygone era, but you must both learn to move on an accept that old things, like KoF 97 , eventually die. It's okay, I'm sure it's in a better place, like some bowling alley in South Jersey.

Snap

2006-01-05T09:53:00.000-08:00

OMFG

Sarah Pottle is getting married.

/me is elated for sarah!
/me feels very, very, old now.
/me warns Sarah that inviting me to her wedding will almost certainly end with me being drunk at the reception.

Thank you, that is all.

2006-01-03T13:45:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR, MUTHAFUCKA!

Man, what as awesome vacation. It was really good to see my family and chill in Ingonish for a bit. I definately needed the time off. I'm pretty sure Shaun and I drank all of the booze in Cape Breton on New Years. And for the secondyear running, I went swimming in the atlantic Ocean during the Christmas holidays.

Larger Post will follow when I am inspiried to go into detail, and I have my camera to upload the picture goodness.

By the way Eddie, saying you dominate at King of Fighters 97 is like saying you rule at using paper clips. Big fucking W00t; learn to play a real fighting game ( Like DOA 3) and then we'll talk further about my handing of your ass to you and in what style of presentation (read: silver platter or no silver platter) you would wish to recieve it.

2005-12-15T10:15:00.000-08:00

A Small Post.....

.......just so I can say I post more frequently than Sarah Pottle. Not much to report; my new position at work is keeping me ultra frigging busy, so I've been a real party pooper as of late. My good buddy Kim McNeil came to visit recently, and she has informed me she is getting married in the summer. Her fiance Rob was traveling with her, and it was a pleasure to meet him. Really nice guy (how could I not like a guy with spiderman tattooed on one arm, and Venom tattooed on the other?)

Oh, and to Teh N3rd Qu33n ( AKA Mounia) , don't even pretend that you could beat me in Virtua Fighter 4. You're ass is grass, seabass. I'm gonna quarter-circle back, X buton all over your stupid face!

Speaking of nerdiness, anyone wanna buy me a new computer/Xbox 360 for Christmas? I'll be your best friend for ever and ever!

Le Jesse

2005-12-06T09:53:00.000-08:00

With great desk, comes great responsibility.

Wow, who knew that having a bigger desk meant they were going to increase my workload? Jesus H. Christ, I'm busy (not yet busy enough that I can't blog on my lunch hour, but hey) The two new guys started today and they're awesome. Motivated, smart, and they enjoy the prospect of making money. Guys after my own heart.

Okay, I feel it neccesary to address the comments of a recent commenter (Hi Jessica!). Yes audience, I am a giant fucking sellout. I wear buttoned shirts that tuck into my pants. Hell, if I've got people to see, I even don a sharp tie and a nice suit. I covet material possessions. I want a car with shiney rims and a stereo that causes bystanders to go deaf. So in the popular sence of the term, I've sold out. I've currently put on hold lofty aspirations of enacting greater social change so that I can work towards having a fridge in my office.

But. I come home, I put on jeans and a Converge T-shirt, I crack my can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and I fire up the Xbox. I still listen to loud music, I still go see bands that play loud music. I dance at these shows. I still play loud music. I still viscously (read: hypocritically) despise most aspects of popular culture. I still adhere to a core set of values that favor a common good. I fucking Recycle. Have I sold out? Probably. But if the charge is that I too much enjoy the businessman lifestyle, and some of the cool perks that come with it, then yes, I am guilty of the charge. I like my company. We do cool things. They even gave me a big desk and employees to manage. They understand that I like to feel important. So, at the end of the day, i don't feel guilty about what I do, or who I've become, I'm actually proud of it. So while the punk rock police might take two studs from my lapel, I believe, as my good friend Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson ( or Fiddy as I call him) says, I am in fact "keeping it real."

Le Jesse

"So, um, do we call you sir?"
"Oh come on fellas! That's just silly! hahaha.............Mr. Gainer will suffice."

2005-12-02T16:50:00.000-08:00

New Desk!

That's right, They gave me a big shiny new desk. It's hot. W the fuck 00t!!!!! I will post pictures soon showing a before and after. I've got big drawers. a new filing cabinet, a set of shelves. The most important feature of this desk is that it's bigger than everyone elses desk. Okay, that's not true, but it's bigger than everyone else's desk in my department, so that's what counts. The new employees come in on monday, so it's fucking game time. I've been given green light to manage these fellas alittle, so I have big plans, which of course involve making me more money. Soon I shall have my office/raise/promotion combo glory......be afraid.

So the new guy kept his job. I dunno, I still think he's got one foot out the door, but he made an order at the end of the day. Shit, I even helped him out. Don't get me wrong, nothing would make me happier than to see this guy turn into an ultra producer, but I'm very skeptical of that actually happening.

Um, not much more to report. The Taco pie, for all of those keeping score at home, was delicious.

2005-12-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

So, yeah, about the whole posting from home thing.....

Posting actual articles from home will happen, but I'm lazy, and now when I get home all I do is practice the drums and play video games, so all of you waiting on baited breath (hehe) to see something more interesting here will just have to sit tight.

I think we're gonna fire the new guy today. Poor fella. I mean, if this guy was the barkeep at the local, I'd call him a hell of a guy, but he just doesn't cut it here. I think the guy has negative work ethic, and this annoys me. I love comming into the office and joking around with the guys, but when it's work time, it's fucking work time. This guy just feels it neccesary to stretch out and shoot the shit whenever he damn well pleases. I think it's the general lack of respect for the job that drives me nuts. I like what I do, and I'm proud of what I've accomplished, so I guess it just irks me that he's not on the same page, because he acts like it doesn't matter. Anyway, the head honchos asked my oppinion, and I gave it to them, so I think the desk by the window will be free by day's end.

Anyway, we've done quite a few more interviews, and the last two people I think are shoe-in's: qualified, smart, energetic, and best of all, they seem motivated to make money. Also, one of them happens to be female. Now, please don't take this the wrong way, because I'm really not an office creep-o, but my office is a complete sausage fest; a collection of business guys and tech geeks, and honestly an attractive female coworker would really do alot for morale.

Life besides the office is just fine. I went to coffee with Kate last night to give her some advice for Underground Economics (An awesome class taught by one of the most interesting professors I've ever met.) I love hanging out at Pi Cafe, not only because the music is so freaky deaky, but because it's a chess cafe, and I love chess. Now, i'm not a very good chess player, but I enjoy the game. Kate beat me last night, but it wasn't a trouncing. Next time, Bitch, you're going down!

Been playing alot of drums lately. I've found the best practice method is just putting my walkman on and learning what I can from my CD collection. The best instruction has been from my Throwdown cd. Thanks Throwdown! I can't wait untill Shane gets back from Europe so we can start playing again as a band. Don't worry, when the CD drops and we become super ultra rock stars, i'll be sure to blog about it.

Man, this day's gotta end. Not that it's a bad day, but Tasha's comming over for Tacos! I think we are going to attempt a taco pie. We have no recipe, but I'm sure the result will be awesome.

I read an article from The Onion that had me in stiches, as it felt very true to life: http://www.theonion.com/content/node/43032

Cheers,

Le Jesse

2005-11-24T08:37:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

Uh, yeah, I really couldn't think of another title for my post, so there you go. Not much on the go lately, work has been busy as hell, but today is going to be quiet because of the holiday, as the majority of the business we do is in the states. This is frustrating , because I have people at companies in the US that are supposed to be doing things for me, and they have the day off, and I have to wait till monday to see results. Stupid people and their stupid holidays with their stupid families. Don't they realise that I'm more important?!?!

Len, the new guy, started today. Seems like he'll do just fine. I have to admit, I suffer from alittle agism. Len's in his 50's, so automatically I think he's not cut out for the job. But he has a wealth of expirience in the industry, and seems like a decent fellow to work with, so i'm glad he's on the team. Speaking of employment, I conducted my first interview today for a new employee. Poor fellow is totally not getting an offer. I mean, he was smart, polite, and had just enough expirience, but at the end of the interview he just didn't sell himself to me. He didn't even bring a resume. Meh, my position is, if he's hungry enough for the job, he'll be persistant, so if he calls me back a couple of times, and really hounds me for a second interview, I'll more than likely give him a second chance.

Section for the Geeks

Halflife 2 (xbox) = awesome. I mean, I still think FPS's are best experienced on the PC, but as a port, this game works really well. The enviroments are rich and very interactive, and the AI is really quiet good.

Fable (xbox) = Sorta awesome. This game had alot of potential, and I have to give it a bit if a break, because console RPG's have to do ALOT to impress me, as I'm a Baldur's Gate 2 fanboy. Fable's concept was unique and the gameplay was exciting, but this game failed big time in duration and difficulty. I beat this game without dying once, and I finished it in two days. BG2 took me 4 months to finish, and I definately didn't do every last side quest. These two complaints are intertwined, since if the game had gotten progresively harder, I would have had to spend alot more time leveling up, and gaining XP to finish the game, thus wrenching out more play time.

Music Geek Section

Every Time I Die - Gutter Phenomenon: This band continues to blow my mind. The current glam/ post HC trend in hardcore music has been a real bummer to say the least, and many band's have really failed when trying to create a more progressive sound. The result usually takes HC bands and turns them into forgettable grunge/rock/indy/emo messes. Not ETID. Gutter Phenomenon is what Post Hardcore should sound like; hardcore music with rock and roll sensability. As well, lead singer Kieth Buckley continues to pen some of the most interesting, thought provoking, and down right fun lyrics I've heard.

Throwdown - You Don't Have To Be Blood To Be Family: These guys are anything but complex or progressive, and that's okay with me. This album could be refered to as meat and potatoes hardcore. fast parts and break downs; that's it. But that's the beauty of good ol'fashion hardcore music, it lives and dies on it's authenticity, and Throwdown (well at least on this album) are as authentic as they come. The lyrics can come off as a bit silly, as do the lyrics to many old school sXe hardcore songs, but that's really part of the scene it seems, and shows the genre's roots in punk rock. Raw, simple, sing along, heavy music. It's a real shame these guys got a new singer for the last two albums, because the new stuff sounds like corny, radio friendly heavy metal. Although, their new drummer is a guy from Montreal, who used to play in A Death For Every Sin, a kickass local band.

There, I've wasted as much time today on my blog as possible. Stupid American Holidays. Happy Fucking Thanksgiving.

Le Jesse

2005-11-18T07:07:00.000-08:00

BAH

So I was all set to go to Cuba during early April. I get to the office this morning, check the stats, check my voicemail, shoot the shit with a couple of people, and then check my e-mail. There's an e-mail from the boss, and all that's in the body of the e-mail is a link. So, I click the link, thinking is going to be some company's website he wants me to check out and try and get in touch with, and it's a site for a convention. April 7-12. Fuck. Now, normaly, I'd be stoked about a trip to Las Vegas, but the Cuba thing keeps getting pushed to the back burner. I know Tasha and I will figure out a way to get there, but it's really important to me that this trip happen, because I really need that time with her. We both work hard, and we're both busy people. And seeing her on the weekends is great, but a solid week together, kicking back on the beach...I really can't think of anything I'd rather do.

Went out with a work buddy to see his brother's band play. Pretty cool time, great music, and I think I was the only anglophone there. No biggy, I just had a hard time keeping up with all the conversations, but I held my own (everyone pretty much switched to english as soon as they heard me, which is very nice of them).

Going out to dinner with Tasha tonight for Ber Ber food. I love this restaraunt. They serve rabbit. I love rabbit. The funny thing about eating here with Tasha, is that if I am to order the rabbit, I must refer to my rabbit as "chicken", as Tasha has serious problems thinking about the consumption of rabbit, as she immediately thinks of Thumper, or any generic cute fuzzy little pet bunny. So tonight, I'm having the chicken. I love chicken.

Le Jesse

2005-11-17T06:09:00.000-08:00

Sweet Suffering Christ...

...I think my ears are still bleeding. The Bionic show was absolutely amazing. It was really cool to see Tim (the drummer) and Kelly (his fiance) again, as it had been awhile since we got to hang out. Tim's a really great guy, but I have a real hard time relaxing around him because he's such a goddamn rockstar, and I don't mean that in a negative way, it's just that he's the drummer in a band that has their CD's in HMV for god sake, and the guy plays my insturment better than most i've heard, so I find myself trying to be friendly without being a total fucking fanboy.

Anyway, besides gushing like a pre-teen schoolgirl about Bionic, all's quiet on the Western Front. The last two weeks of work have been very good to me, and I'm finally close to landing a couple of very important clients. I used to get so impatient with corporate deals, because I wanted the results like, the next day, and if shit didn't work out in the first month of negotiation, I'd probably move on, but my attitude changed the day I landed this software company (I dunno, I'm sure it doesn't matter, but i'm leaving the names of the businesses out) as an affiliate partner. It took me like 6 months just to get the right people on the phone and at least another month to convince them it was a good deal. They finally went for it, and now there one of our most profitable affiliate partners. The funny thing about this story is the number one most profitable client I've landed as a partner took me three days tops to close. Which was wild, cause it was a big publishing company, and I just happened to get on the phone with the right people.

I'm going to have Intertron at home next week. This makes me happy, because it'll allow me to get some work done from home, download some more music ( read: Pr0n), and actually give this blog some beef besides just being a journal. What I want this thing to be is what I guess alot of people want their blogs to be. I want to write about shit that starts discussions. It's been a while since I've done any serious philisophy/political science writing, as everything that flows from these hands these days is either business or humor (Go Red Herring) related. I didn't want to do the blog thing before, as I saw it as simply a platform for me to inflate my ego by writing long words down and sending it to people on a pretty website so that it looks authorative, but now if I could write, send the link to people, and get people to respond and start discussions, it would be awesome. It would still inflate my ego, but it'd really allow me to gauge if I'm bright enough to write something that intices someone to actually respond based on the article, and not just my friends trying to help out my blog.

Anyway, that'll come soon. untill that time kids: Don't throw rocks at glass houses. Throw them at the Dutch.

Le Jesse

2005-11-15T06:05:00.000-08:00

Rock and Roll!

I'm going to go see one of my favorite montreal bands, Bionic ( http://www.sound-king.com/bionic/main/ ), tonight. Man, any of you that are fans of good music have to check these guys out. Now, I know most of you who read this thing, as there are only a few of you, probably would judge my musical taste as you knew it in highschool. Well, While I can't say I've changed that much, I can say I've definately brodened my Horizons. So check it the fuck out.

I had an Awesome weekend. A friend of the family invited Tasha and I up to his sugar shack in the Eastern Townships for a traditional Quebecois meal. (much drinking ensued) What was really cool about this trip is that my father and this guy were really close back in the day, and so my dad was around alot when this guy's son was growing up and they became very close, and my dad bought him a guitar. Now John (the guy) 's son has grown up and is a really great musician and still has the guitar my father gave him 20 odd years ago, and he brought it up to the country place for me to play. Kind of an odd, but mostly awesome, experience. Michelle (the guy's son) is one hell of a musician, so it was fun playing with him even though I had a hard time keeping up.

Saturday was Beer-larity. Two friends of Tasha and I just got a new apartment and threw a party. Their new place is pretty sweet, and I got alittle drunk. (Woah!) The most awesome part about the party was somebody had a mix CD of mid 90's dance music, which kicked some serious ass. I know what I want, and I want it now, I want you, because I'm Mr. Fucking Vein. Oh hell's yeah. Okay, after that nonsence, we bounced to Bifteck for my buddy Mounia's B-day. Hard for anything original to happen at the Biffer, but hey, I love the place. All and All, good times.

I'm counting down the days till I get the internet at home. Then finally, I can use this blog for something more than a report on my life, and actually write something more interesting to read.

Till next time kids: When life hands you lemons, burn down the orphanage.

Le Jesse

2005-11-10T05:47:00.000-08:00

Texas?

Yup, I'm off to Austin, Texas in January. Now, I could try to act all cool and be like, "oh man, all this travel with work, you know, it really makes me tired." Fuck that, I'm excited! Going to texas will be the farthest I've ever been from home, and according to the Sisters of Rock (Julia and Angelica) Austin has a kick ass underground rock scene, so hopefully I'll have a chance to go to some shows. Oh right, and I do have to work while I'm there. Our company has developed a web service for pro photographers ( http://www.photostockplus.com ) so we're going to this: http://www.imagingusa.com . Looks like a it'll be a good conference, and I have some clients down there so it'll be cool to meet them in person. That was my favorite part of my last trip to NYC, was finally meeting some people I only had a phone relationship with. Oh, and partying on the company dime is always a plus.

I'm going to try and book some time off in April, as Tasha and I are finally going to go to Cuba. I'm very excited about that. Not only to I get to spend alot of time with her, but it'll be on a beach with free drinks. I'm going to see if I can get the drink Garth got in Wayne's World part one. That's right, I want a goldfish bowl full of rum and fruitjuice. Party on, Jesse!

Oh wow, I'm at work. They might want me to do something other than blog. Especially on payday. Till next time, keep your stick on the ice.

Le Jesse

2005-11-09T09:41:00.000-08:00

That's me on the Left

2005-11-09T06:50:00.000-08:00

It's been a very odd 2 weeks as far as friends are concerned. It all started with April, an old highschool buddy, comming to visit me in MTL. We hadn't seen each other in years, so over a few drinks we caught up on alot of stuff, and went back and forth on the whole " so how is ( insert old friend's name here) doing?" thing. Got me to thinking about other people I hadn't talked to in a while. Then my friend Gabe tell me that he knew Sarah, a girl i've attended pretty much every level of education with from kindergarden till university, through the debate team geek sqaud and gave me her blog address. Sarah and I had lost touch over the years (Different friends, different interests), so I thought it'd be cool to visit her blog thing and e-mail her. But once I get there, I see a list of names I hadn't thought about since I left Sydney.

Anyway, to make a long story short, after years of saying I'd never give in to the self absorbed world of blogging, I'm doing it. Fuck it. oh right, this is my first post ever. Here's alittle about myself:

Hi! I'm Jesse Gainer. I was born in Montreal, QC, raised in Sydney Nova Scotia, and now am back in the MTL after completing my undergad at McGill University. Curently, I have a kick-ass job working for an E-commerce Marketing and software development company called Webstorm Media. I like hardcore music, cheap beer, good books, and smart ties (more on the tie thing later).

Currently, my two biggest hobbies have been playing music with my new band (Paper St. ) and helping put together McGill's comedy magazine, The Red Herring.

Okay, so here goes post number one. For those reading hte blog, don't expect the posts to get more detailed than day to day ramblings untill I get highspeed at home and can write bigger peices on the weekend.

Cheers,

Le Jesse