A young man was picking up objects off the beach and tossing them out into the sea.

A second man approached him and saw that the objects were starfish.

"Why in the world are you throwing starfish into the water?" he asked.

"If the starfish are still on the beach when the tide goes out and the sun rises high in the sky, they will die" replied the young man.

"That is ridiculous. There are thousands of miles of beach and millions of starfish. You cant really believe that what you're doing could possibly make a difference!"

The young man picked up another starfish, paused thoughtfully, and remarked as he tossed it out into the waves,

"It makes a difference to this one."

- Loren Eisley

I am a hopeless-bleeding-heart-white-cat-lover.

It's getting pathological. I was looking at birds . . . yes, not cats, I was looking at birds. And what happened? Another Yuki lookalike.

It makes me want to rip my heart out of my chest and hurl it across the room. When Yuki died, I looked EVERYWHERE for a white cat. Do you think I could find even one??? HA!!! (I was hysterical then, but whether or not it was a good idea is beside the point.)

Now, when I don't have room for another cat, white cats are spilling from everywhere. Every time I turn around there ANOTHER white cat looking for a home. It makes me want to bash myself about the head or something.

The dogs at the SPCA were quite heartbreaking too.

So many sad looking dog. Dogs who must have loved someone very much, and are now alone. Dogs who have personality problems because they were mixed with an aggressive breed. Dogs who huddle in the back of their pen and barely look up when you walk by. Dogs with diarrhea and vomitting, a dog missing an eye.

Some of them I wanted to scoop up in my arms and say, "It's okay, I'll take you home and give you a Forever Home. A home where you'll always be safe, and taken care of, and loved."

It's hard to believe I keep going back to the shelter to look in on the animals when it's always so sad.

Forever North and I went to go visit the Edmonton SPCA on Saturday.

We weren't looking to adopt anyone . . . we just like to visit the animals and see how they're doing.

I was surprised at how few rabbits and cats there were. I visit the Edmonton City Pound website regularly, and I knew that I had seen many more cat and rabbits than the few that were at the SPCA.

I was reading a pamphlet about how the city pound is now taking in strays rather than the SPCA, and it suddenly dawned on me.

Only a very small portion of all the animals I've seen on the website ever get a chance to be adopted. Very, very small. So small, that I almost started crying when I realized. The animals that don't get sent to the SPCA for adoption are euthanized. Of all those beautiful cats and rabbits that I looked at and felt hopeful about them being adopted at the SPCA, only a small handful ever got the chance.

Now my heart is aching for all the Yuki look-alikes that I've seen on the city pound website. There are more, and it's heartbreaking.

There's one male white cat at the pound that I'm afraid is going to be put to sleep. Heaven forgive me, but I may not be able to keep myself from going to the pound and begging to adopt him.

Well, we have good news :)

The results from the urine and stool samples are that he doesn't seem to have an underlying condition. There were some red blood cells in the urine, and some unidentifiable crystals, but mostly it looks quite normal. He is on antibiotics now as a precautionary measure, and we'll be doing another urine test next week to rule out any feline urinary syndrome.

He's home now, and quite happy, as are we. I can't say I've ever been so happy to see him sleeping on the bed before. I was trying not to be worried, but having him back made me want to cry with joy. I love that little guy so much. ~sigh~

I woke up like a bolt of lightening had hit the house.

Mr. Cubbs was meowing, and he made a sound just like Dusty.

I feel disturbed.

A more detailed version of last night's events that I posted to a mailing list I'm on:

Subject: OT: Saturday night at the vet clinic

This evening I was putting away some laundry and straightening up the bed. My cat, Dusty, was crying, so thinking that he must be lonely and looking for me, I called him. He seemed distracted and was wandering about meowing and I couldn't figure out why. Finally, he came into the bedroom, walked over to a corner of the room and started to pee. He seemed to be in some discomfort and was meowing as he liberally soaked the carpet, the wall, and a corner of the curtain.

All I could do was just stand there and watch. I was a bit dumbfounded, as I hadn't seen Dusty urinate outside his litterbox, and I hadn't heard him cry while urinating either. When he was done, he seemed rather upset that he had just peed on the carpet. He scuttled away looking rather ashamed, so I followed him to see how he was doing.

He seemed to be in fair condition, but I felt like this just couldn't wait until the morning when the regular vet clinic is open. I wanted to make sure he would be okay. (I don't know, maybe I'm a still a bit sensitive after losing my cat, Yuki, in December.)

So off to the emergency vet clinic we went. While all the people around town were streaming in and out of bars in various states of inebriation, I
had my arm shoved inside a cat carrier trying to assure Dusty that a car ride is not a cruel joke that humans play on their pets.

The vet checked him over, but needed to get a urine and stool sample to get and idea of what was going on with Dusty. So now, instead of warming my
side with his furry little body, he's sitting at the emergency clinic being coaxed to pee and poo for the nice doctors.

I hope this all ends well. It's been a long night.

And so, the long night continues.

Dusty is still at the vet, and still no pee or poop. I'm hoping he produces something before 24 hours goes by, or this is going to suck in the most $$$$$$ way.

Otherwise it sounds like he's okay. We still don't know what's going on with him. At least he's in good hands.

I'd like to leave you tonight on a somewhat lighter note.

I present, the two bunnies I met at the SPCA today:

Dusty is at the emergency veterinary clinic.

He's not going to die, or at least I hope not. Something very freakish and weird would have to happen for him to die tonight.

Okay, so anyway, we don't know exactly what's wrong with him yet, but my guess is that it's Feline Urinary Syndrome. He still has to poo and pee for the doctors, though, so we're not 100% sure yet.

Until then, I am without my beautiful black baby. ~sigh~

I'm trying to be light about it, but in the car I was having vivid flashbacks of Yuki's death. This is going to be a long night.

This picture was in the latest Yahoo! Geocities world report:

Is that Min Jung, or am I mistaken? The picture is giving me a weird déja vù feeling.

iVillage has good cat behaviour information. The information on fighting cats was very useful.

Dusty and Mr. Cubbs were crabbing at each other today.

They've lived together for 5 years, but there's still the occassional scrap.

I don't think Mr. Cubbs is used to playing second fiddle when it comes to sleeping on the bed. Apparently Dusty wasn't a bed snuggler before, so Mr. Cubbs had free reign. Now Dusty follows me everywhere, and won't be satisfied until he is draped on some part of me. Since Dusty is such a sucky baby, we figured we would let him glom onto me and encourage Mr. Cubbs to glom onto Forever North.

Well, I don't think that's quite enough for Mr. Cubbs. He's a very easy going fellow, but I think even he is feeling like he isn't getting enough luvin' from the only woman in the house. Looks like I'm going to have to pay more attention to him.

There's a wicked storm grunting and snorting outside.

I'm so glad we didn't miss out on big thunderstorms this summer. I was afraid I wouldn't get to see that dazzling flash of lightning and hear that crack of thunder that I'm so accustomed to.

There's a plot to convince Canadians that A&W is a Canadian fast food chain.

I don't know why they ever felt the need to do that . . . I mean, we're a bunch of McDonald's-loving-zombies, and we know damn well that Ronald McDonald ain't a Canuck.

They pitch A&W food like it's good old-fashioned Canadian stuff. Now I find out that it all started with root beer in Lodi, California. If that's not enough, A&W food is in fact All American Food™.

What did they think? That we'd say, "Oh, it's American? Oh dear God. We can't eat there. Let's go eat at home instead."

Yep, all those dozens upon dozens upon dozens of fast food chains better not let the cat out of the bag, or they'll be hooped for sure.

Hmm . . . looks like da boys left some Chubby Chicken out.

Anybody want some?

Scary.

Does your doctor know you stopped taking your medication?

Ooooooooooh!

I'm such a sucker for cute kitties!

I thought the picture was of a self-involved Fashionista meeting her demise in a pile of spilled jelly beans.

Yeah, well, you knew Japanese people were weird anyway.

Oh, by the way, I'm moving.

I figure if I say it enough times, I'll actually do it.

Yep, Limegirl, aka Stagnant-immobile-digging-her-heels-in-because-she-can't-stand-change-girl, is moving. And not just across town. I'm moving to Vancouver.

Forever North is staying here in Edmonton. I'm taking this opportunity in what's left of my youth (har har) to go try something different and spend more time with my dad. My dad is turning 68 this year, and while he is a very spry 68 year-old, he's no spring chicken anymore. I haven't really had many opportunities to spend quality time with my dad in many, many years, so I'm really looking forward to this.

I'm also really looking forward to trying something different and shaking things up a bit.

The pets are going to stay with FN for now, at least until I get my own place where 1 or 2 of them can come and stay with me. He's a good dad to his fur-kids, so I'm not concerned. :) In fact, a lot of my stuff is going to stay here for a good long while too. I'm trying to keep things simple, instead of drowning in an ocean of my own junk.

In the meantime, I have a lot of tedious sorting, cleaning and packing to do. Woo hoo.

AGH!

Lord help us all, AsianBastard.com is gone. The Asian Bastard himself is alive and kicking, but the site is gone.

Dammit AB, what the hell are we all supposed to do now???

So many lookalikes . . . ~sigh~

Scam Alert

I received a letter from the Internet Registry of Canada. It came in a nice brown envelope, just like the one that the Canadian government uses to send out tax refund cheques and such.

It's a notice telling me that I need to renew my domain, Limeworld.com, and offers methods of payment in addition to other domains that I might be interested in owning. It's very solemn and official looking.

But then I thought, "Uh, why is the Internet Registry of Canada telling me to renew my .com domain?". So I went looking. I looked at the website indicated on the envelope, and I knew, having visited the site for the .ca governing body, that this was not it. Then I went to the site of the .ca governing body, CIRA. Clearly they are two totally different groups. So who the hell is the Internet Registry of Canada?

Then I found this.

Yes, all you Canadians out there who own internet domains can now rest assured that a great many people are trying to fuck you over.

I'm seriously considering mailing them a dead animal. If you'd like to have a bit of snail mail fun, send your goodies to:

Internet Registry of Canada


P.O. Box 4696


Markham, Ontario


CANADA


L3R 5M3

And tell me if you do, so I can give you my thanks.

Seriously though . . .

Whoever Fraser McScona and Farool McChan are, you guys get out of 5 for being wacky bastards.

I haven't heard Forever North laugh like that in ages. :)

Adventure From My Guestbook - Part V

Fraser McScona:

Mo. Entomo. Sajimo, kimono. Fuschimo-mo, frezo, Frezo, FREZZO!! OMIGLAMPERON, TOKATROKALOG!! Masatrin frin-meka-calsimone! Ooble, ooble, wen camagrendon alasofinocker? Herjinwenableeple ooza brennasnoof, loofatrogilose boomafleeb. Boomafleeb wurza der horudko. Lillanoozle patalon? Boomafleeb wurza boomafleeb. Trukalon.

If you take those wads of cotton out of your mouth, you may find that people can understand you better.

Adventures From My Guestbook - Part IV

Don Coyote:

Hello, Limegirl: I clicked on you from ULC. I detect in you a slight attitude of disparagement for older people, and this is certainly the province of youth. Keep on truckin'.

I'm glad to see that my disdain for individuals over 30 came through clearly. In my quest for world domination, I knew that people over 30 would have to be my first targets. They tend to be wiley and quick moving, but improved technique and widely dispersed anti-personnel mines seem to be doing the trick. Thanks for visiting.

Adventures From My Guestbook - Part III

Billiam:

Your Comment Wild, freaky,a bit unsolved, disconserting, avorist with a twist of pork-chop, Meaningful, dull in color, I like cats that know their place...in the window-sill, Will willy-Wanka every make a gobstoper for real? Does it ever rain in calif? If the EAST was to meet the WEST, what would they say? Do babes live in babe-land?

I will answer your questions individually:

1) Will Willy Wonka ever make a gobstopper for real?


According to Vern Pitmeyer, spokesman for Wonka Corp., a Willy Wonka Gobstopper™ is in the works. The prototype currently has a two foot diameter and is estimated to last 18 months under normal use.

2) Does it ever rain in California?


Although rain has been seen falling within the borders of the state of California, according to leading meterologists at The National Institute of Meterology, the rain is an elaborate special effect designed to attract tourists. California has in fact never received any actual rainfall, and has had a continual drought for the last 50 years.

3) If East was to meet West, what would they say?


East in fact did meet West, back in 1932. East was travelling east on a train moving at 70 km/h. West was travelling west on a train moving 90 km/h. East began his trip at 8:00 am and was 400 km from the meeting point. West was 300 km from the meeting point. What time would West have to have begun his trip to arrive at the meeting point at the same time as East?

4) Do babes live in babe-land?


It is a common misconception that babes live in babe-land. Babe-land is in fact inhabited by 742,000 elderly men named Herman. The Hermans, as they are known, subsist primarily off of native roots and bulbs. Due to environmental pressures, The Hermans have developed the ability to reproduce asexually. This has allowed for prolific reproduction despite the fact that all off-spring are born old and wrinkled.

Ooh . . . a Napster alternative with the word lime in it. I haven't tried it yet, but I like the name!

Apparently mostly women and children enjoy visiting Africam. Yep, apparently men only like to watch animals killing and eating each other.

Not only that, but this is also true for shows like National Geographic. So all you guys out there who think you were watching those nature shows because you were actually interested in them? You're wrong. You were just waiting to watch something die.

Sam Donaldson only seems to be getting more and more hyper. I never thought that I'd ever see Sam Donaldson bounce around like that.

I never thought I'd see him fondle a woman with pink hair either.

I guess there's a first time for everything.

I'm watching the archived webcast of The Webby Awards.

Sam Donaldson seems strangely uncomfortable for someone who has been in front of the camera as long as he has. Like he's out of his element or something.

I almost wonder if someone said to him, "Sam, the Webby Awards are hip, modern. They are now. We need pep, energy. These are the awards for the MTV generation, and their attention spans are short. We need a 'phat vibe', as they say."

He began the pre-show with a quote from a French general. Yep. As he quoted it,

"My centre is giving way, my right is pushed back . . . situation, excellent. I'm attacking!"

Mmm hmm. Okay then.

Yay! It works. Here it is, Star Trek - The Lost Gay Episode.

Woo hoo! Weblogger slashfic!

It was bound to happen eventually.

Found via Asian Bastard.

~blinking blearily at the screen~

I'm trying, ever so desperately, to start sleeping at normal hours instead of being nocturnal, but I've been nocturnal for so long that my body thinks I'm supposed to be sleeping right now.

I actually had to have a coffee because I felt like I was sleeping with my eyes open. Yes, it has finally come to this. I had a coffee after several months of abstinence. But I think I'll be okay. Instead of screwing up my sleeping habits, it'll probably improve them. Heh.

Hard to believe I could be tired after 15+ hours of sleep.

Adventures From My Guestbook - Part II

Franz Shnitzenhoffer:

Dos ist a flaumenkuchen!

I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted. Anyone speak German out there?

Adventures From My Guestbook - Part I

Ferdinand Romaguella:

Careening spinning discs of green citrus embed themselves in the tequilla sunspots of the seventeenth dimension. The spider-cats gurgle their solemn approval and roll their eyes wildly in unbridled appathy. Look to the moon for answers.

I'd like to take this opportunity to invite other readers to submit any and all poetry and stream of consciousness writing inspired by the phrase "Googly Moogly".

"Goddam those half-Japanese girls. They do it to me every time."

Do what? Make you constipated? Give you an inexplicable craving for salty fish snacks?

Just when you thought you were free of strange and useless facts, I discovered more strange and useless facts!

How about a list of celebrities born in Alberta?

No, wait, that list is too long. Only Edmonton, then:

Melody Anderson - born December 3, 1955


Sharon Bajer - born June 20, 1968


Gary Basaraba - born March 16, 1959


Michelle Beaudoin - August 25, 1975


Jack Black - born April 7, 1969 Wrong, wrong, wrong. My bad.


Jessica Anne Bogart - July 30, 1974


Tommy Chong - born May 24, 1938


Richard Comar


Paula Devicq - born July 7, 1965


Nathan Fillion - born March 27, 1971


Michael J. Fox - born June 9, 1961


Jacqueline Hennessy - born November 25, 1969


Jill Hennessy - born November 25, 1969


Arthur Hiller - born November 22, 1923


Brenda James


Eric Johnson - born August 7, 1979


Teresa Lee


Bruce McCulloch - born May 12, 1961


Danielle Pessis - born April 20, 1975


Klodyne Rodney - born April 13, 1970


Susan Roman - born April 17, 1957


Lisa Ryder


Isabella Simone - born May 14, 1973


Catherine Mary Stewart - born April 22, 1959


David Stuart - born November 19, 1965


Anne Wheeler - born 1946


Jennifer Wigmore - born November 14, 1967

I dropped a few less notable actors from the list, but that still leaves a huge chunk of people that I've never heard of. People I've actually heard of are in italics.

I met Bruce McCulloch once when I was working at a coffee house. I saw him outside and ran out to get his autograph. Yes, I'm sure he thought I was a total dweeb.

My step-mother used to be friends with Anne Wheeler, but they lost touch.

Also, for those of you who watch shows like Breaker High and Boston Public, Scott Vickaryous went to the same high school as Forever North. In fact, Scott's parents still live in Sherwood Park. That's right. You can look them up in the phone book. Time to move from ordinary fandom to stalking, kids.

I think I've filled my quota for useless facts.

Ah, the joy of belonging to the strange club of part-Asian people.

It's a strange club, because we seem to be able to pick each other out of a crowd. Instantly. Anywhere. And then stare at each other as if communicating telepathically.

It happens all the time. There was a girl at dim sum a few weeks ago who was half Chinese. There's a girl who works at a nearby convenience store and we always seem to share a laugh, as though being part Asian were some kind of inside joke.

This also applies with celebrities.

Those of you who are half or part Asian will know what I'm talking about. Celebrities who are part Asian do not strike you as Asian. Not immediately, anyway. It's something you start to wonder about absent-mindedly the more you see images of that person. It kind of whispers somewhere in the back, and you just can't figure out if you're on the mark or not.

Well, darnit, my hapa-radar is better than I ever imagined. My hapa-radar is masterful, as I'm discovering that I can spot part-Asian celebrities before I have any information to confirm it. Here are a few that nagged at me for years:

Dean Cain
Phoebe Cates
Meg Tilly
Jennifer Tilly

And yes, all are of Asian descent of one sort or another. Dean Cain is 1/4 Japanese, Phoebe Cates is 1/2 Filipino, Meg and Jennifer Tilly are 1/2 Chinese.

Others that I didn't wonder about as much, but are also part Asian:

Rob Schneider (1/2 Filipino)
Jane March (1/2 Vietnamese/Chinese)
Tyson Beckford (1/4 Chinese)
Keanu Reeves (1/4 Chinese)
Tiger Woods (1/4 Thai)
Lou Diamond Phillips (1/4 Chinese/Filipino)
Brandon Lee (1/2 Chinese)
Rae Dawn Chong (1/4 Chinese)
Tommy Chong (1/2 Chinese)
Danica McKellar (1/2 Korean)
Eddie Van Halen (1/2 Indonesian)

The two that really surprised me were Tommy Chong and Eddie Van Halen. (Tommy Chong was also born in Edmonton, but more on that later.)

Now there's a few celebrities that I suspect are part Asian, but I can't substantiate it:

Melanie Sykes (British TV personality)
Rachel Stevens

And finally, a few celebrities that I suspected could be part Asian, but I was a damn fool:

Jessica Alba
Catherine Zeta-Jones

Of course, it's soooooo obvious now why those last two aren't Asian at all. But before, hey, I figured my hapa-radar was pretty fool proof.

Right, well, I think I've devoted quite enough time to examining other people's ethnicities. Welcome to the strange club I belong to.

----------------

Dec 31, 2004 Addendum

Thanks to Rah for helping solve the Melanie Sykes and Rachel Stevens mysteries. Melanie Sykes is half-Indian (as in the country) on her mother's side, and Rachel Stevens is 1/4 Chinese and 1/4 Filipino on her mother's side.

I finally got off my ass and updated the Who's Limegirl? page.

Aren't you excited? Yep, I thought so.

Before my website disasppeared for unknown reasons, I was going to mention that a friend of ours had lent us some of his anime collection.

One of the animes was a DVD copy of Bubblegum Crisis - Tokyo 2040.

Pretty standard stuff . . . mad robots, possible conspiracy, fancy hard-suits for fighting, secret group of anti-mad-robot-fighters . . . but it was very good.

Frankly, though, what I was most excited about was watching anime on DVD instead of grainy old bootleg videotapes (uh, did I say bootleg? I mean copied-for-personal-use-but-lost-the-original). I also dug the fact that I could take screenshots:

Okay, none of the Globe and Mail links work anymore. Well, even so, I managed to print a few out if any die-hard Richler enthusiasts are looking for them.

Alright! I finished typing out the column. Enjoy.

Okay, I fixed it. I'll post the column shortly.

Oh, and if you're really interested in reading those newspaper articles, you'd better hurry, because they don't keep them on their websites very long.

Stupid, yes, but what can you do?

Okay, before this thing disappears again, I can't edit my Mordecai Richler post.

Just so you all know, I will post the column of his and edit that post just as soon as I figure out what the hell is going on. I think I have gremlins or something.

One minute my website is there, the next minute it's not. One minute Blogger is there, the next minute it's not.

WHAT THE HELL is going on???????

On July 3, 2001, Mordecai Richler passed away from complications due to cancer.

For those of you who don't know who Mordecai Richler was, he was a Canadian author. He was probably best known for his books, The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz and Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang. He was also something of a Canadian icon who was often loved and hated for his sometimes blunt and inflammatory comments.

He may have ridiculed my hometown as well as many groups that I probably belong to, but he was one of my literary heroes.

Not that he was a hero, exactly. But his column in Saturday Night Magazine was a revelation for me. I started reading his column when I was 15 or so. Saturday Night Magazine came inside the newspaper once a month. I'd never heard of it before, but the magazine soon found its way to the bathroom counter next to Reader's Digest beside the toilet.

Toilet reading can be an enlightening experience. Generally those items that find their way into becoming toilet reading are of unknown quality and may or may not be able to hold your attention for the time you spend doing your business. As I soon discovered, Saturday Night Magazine could hold my attention. So much so, that the magazine soon graduated from toilet reading status to being carried about the house and read in all manner of places.

My enthusiasm for the magazine was due in large part to the regular column that Mordecai Richler wrote. I was fascinated at how outspoken he was, how unafraid he was of speaking his mind even if it offended huge numbers of people.

He did what I was often too afraid to do. I rarely spoke my mind or had any opinions on any topics of consequence. On the rare occassions that I did express my opinions, my arguements were often watery, vague and indecisive.

Mordecai Richler was the opposite of watery, vague and indecisive. He was clear about what he thought and why, and he expressed it with an extraordinary caustic humour. Readers either loved him or hated him for it.

I loved him for it. I ate up his writing, and searched the newspaper constantly for the next issue of Saturday Night Magazine. The first 100% I ever received on an essay was in 12th grade when I wrote about a particular column he wrote about Quebec Separatists. I'm not sure that my essay was worth 100% . . . it wasn't phenomenal. But I think he deserves a great deal of the credit for the mark, and I thank him for his help in restoring my faith in my abilities as a writer.

There was something delightfully prickly about him . . . someone I felt that I knew, although I did not. He seemed like someone who was merciless with his typewriter, but had a softness about him that only the very privileged had the opportunity to experience.

Perhaps I make too much of him, but that's what he was to most of us. Larger than life.

I will miss him for his ability to get under the skin of all Canadians. I will miss him for showing no mercy to any group, for portraying Anglophones as ignorant patsies and Francophones as rabid "tribalists". He was fair. None of us were above his criticism, and those of us who mourn him wouldn't have had it any other way.

Someone will probably come after me for it, but I've decided to include a copy of one of Mordecai Richler's columns from Saturday Night Magazine. To read it, click here.

You can also read more about Mordecai Richler here:

Saturday Night Magazine pays tribute


Globe and Mail - Mordecai Then and Now


Globe and Mail - Oh Mordecai, Oh Quebec


Globe and Mail - My Mordecai: Wicked smoothie, gentle genius, loyal friend


Globe and Mail - Curmudgeon me no curmudgeons


Globe and Mail - The man who came to dinner (and dished the dirt)


Globe and Mail - Blessed be Mordecai


National Post - Italians make folk hero of Barney


National Post - Letters


National Post - Seventy years of glorious trouble


National Post - Death from cancer comes as a shock


National Post - Polemic on language laws still resonates


National Post - Novelist, journalist, wit


National Post - He shared the essence of his Montreal with the world


National Post - Don't look to writers for morality lessons


National Post - In the shadow of his balls


National Post - Letters


National Post - At Table 28 and across Canada, gestures of respect for Richler


National Post - 'I can't see this and I do not want it, life without him'


National Post - Richler archives safe in Calgary


National Post - A toast to Mordecai from his buddies at Bar 243


National Post - Critics sitting shiva for Mordecai


National Post - Mordecai and Florence insisted I join them for a drink. It occurred to me I had been welcomed back by the one person who epitomized the very cosmopolitan soul of Montreal


National Post - Why Solomon Gursky is the great Canadian novel


National Post - How the Richler papers went west

My website and my website host has dropped off the face of the earth and I can't figure out why.

Agh!

Gross.

I'm coughing like I'm drowning in my own phlegm, so I'm going back to bed now.

Speaking of terrifying monsters, you don't know how scary a chinchilla can be until you've met Snuggles the chinchilla.

Yes, his name is ironic, and yes, his thirst for blood is unequalled by any animal I've encountered. He does not fight with other chinchillas, and he is a total baby to his human, Bonnie. Everyone else, however, is just a moving target.

I saw him again after many months. I am no less fearful of him now than I was the day I tried to get acquainted with him and he latched onto my heel with his dagger-like incisors and refused to let go despite much shaking and screaming.

He has sent grown men, men who have served in the military, screaming from the room like 3-year old girls. If you see him, I suggest you cover all body parts with thick padding and run like hell.

I recently bought an excellent book called House Rabbit Handbook.

I do not know the author, nor do I get any kind of financial compensation if you decide to buy it. Really, I'm just saying it's great because I've been reading it and I am very impressed. It has all the information I've been dying to get my hands on since I got Momo, and if I'd known that this was such a great book, I would have spent more time reading it and less time frantically combing the internet trying to figure out why my placid little bunny had suddenly turned into a terrifying monster.

If you have a bunny, or were planning on adopting one, this book is for you.

Here's an even bigger version of the balloon torture.

I love 3D animation, especially ones with balloon torture.

~giggles wildly~

I have found an alternative to Napster.

Who knows how long this one will survive, but I'm going to use it while I can!

WHY.

Would someone please tell me WHY this is in my referrals?

Do Limeworld and hot horny teens have anything in common?

Seriously.

Forever North and I spent the day with GMAN's step-daughter, Taylor, (aka FN's niece). Or part of it, anyway.

She wanted to go see the taxidermy display at the Provincial Museum, which is not at all as gory and gruesome as it might sound. Just a bunch of stuffed dead animals looking rather not dead, and enthralling small children. It's cooler than it sounds.

It taught me a whole heck of a lot more about wildlife in Alberta than any book ever did as a child.

We were going to take Taylor to go see Atlantis as well, but we spent too much time looking at the stuffed animals. Instead, we met up with GMAN, his wife, his mother-in-law and his brother-in-law. We had a meal together at Boston Pizza, and FN and I planned to take Taylor to a movie after dinner. We walked over to Silver City (movie theatre), just in time for the fire-breathing dragon in the lobby.

Yep, we subjected a 3-year-old child to the experience of the Silver City fire-breathing dragon. She was horribly frightened and started to cry. Believe me, you don't really know what it's like to feel like an asshole until you make a small child cry. When you see those tears roll down her little face, you become quite sure that death by electrocution would be far too good for you.

We tried to make her feel better, but our evening with Taylor was clearly over. She wanted Mommy or Grandma, and wasn't at all interested in seeing a movie with talking cats and dogs. We dragged ourselves over to Playdium, handed Taylor over to GMAN in lieu of Mommy or Grandma, and went off to give ourselves a good video-game-thrashing.

I'm glad we had a chance to spend time with her before she goes back to the U.S., but things didn't go quite the way we had hoped.

Oh well. C'est la vie, I guess.

My heart is going to burst.

I went looking for pictures of bunnies looking for homes, but instead I found 4 cats that look exactly like my angel-kitty, Yuki:

The first picture looked so much like him that when I showed it to Forver North, he said, "I've never seen that picture of him before". I hope these cats find good homes, or I'm going to have to adopt the