Three Things

While standing naked next to the gym shower this morning, waiting for hot water to arrive from the third circle of hell where the old Forum* seems to keep its boiler (about 5 minutes if you’re the first to shower in the morning), I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell I was doing there. Still, somehow it seemed a little easier (just a tad, just a hair’s breadth) than yesterday. I’m not insane enough to believe that eventually I’ll actually like it (the getting up part, not the gym part since I’m probably one of the only people in the known universe who actually likes the gym), but maybe, just maybe getting up before six will go from absolute torture to relative torture. That would be good.

When I was a child, lo these many years ago I never, ever had a Mr. Potato Head. Did he not exist in my time, or were my parents just evil evil people bent on screwing up my childhood by depriving me of him?** Whatever it was, I developed a passion for the spud. Mr Jazz has given me a few, I have Mr. P and his car courtesy of the JazzSis, as well as assorted baby spuds. Today I would like you to meet the latest addition to my menagerie (vegetable stand?) given to my by a friend: Darth Tater. Here he is sitting on the TV at the cottage. How cool is that?

Saw a great movie last night. I had heard very good things about it. I had also heard that it was basically porn (because the actors don’t simulate sex in the movie, it’s the real thing). I guess it’s a matter of point of view. The movie is Shortbus and it’s wonderful and it’s nowhere near porn. Of course, if you have problems with watching real sex on the big screen, you might be better to abstain. I’d also advocate not going with your mom – but I guess that would depend on your relationship with your mom. Most people I know however, well, not so much with the mom.

* The gym is in what used to be the Montreal Forum, home of the Habs and various assorted ghosts. Not that I believe in ghosts, but hey, it’s Hallow’een. The hockey team has moved to the Bell Centre and either the ghosts went with the team or got lost somewhere along the 2-3 km move. The Forum is now the home of my gym, a Cineplex and various restaurants that seem to go under with stunning regularity, only to be replaced my more restos that will go under soon. You’d think they’d learn. Or maybe the ghosts don’t like restaurants.


**I was also deprived of the game Perfection which I wanted so bad. I wonder how my life would have turned out if I had had that game. I'd probably be less of a spazz or, on the contrary, I'd be a twitching slobbering mess, the explosion of Perfection pieces every 45 seconds having traumatized me forever.