The oscars=dreadful

So I did watch the Academy Awards last night. Early on, I had to ask myself, "what the hell am I watching?"

First of all, I only saw one of the movies nominated for best picture, Juno. Honestly, if this was one of the best movies of the year, it's probably good I didn't see too many this year. Then last night I had to endure performances of those three god awful songs from Enchanted.

There were very few laughs. The only thing I kind of found funny was Jon Stewart's line after The Bourne Ultimatum won one of its awards, "Someone just jumped ahead in the office pool with a complete guess." T

he show wasn't as predictable as many critics have said, however. Marion Cotillard and Tilda Swinton were total surprises. But most speeches were a total bore. Thumbs down. A boring cliche, I know, but fitting.

My next post will have new pieces of writing, I promise. I know it was Friday I promised it would come.

Expensive Chain Coffee Joints

Tonight, rather than going to the local pub to write, I went out to a local coffee joint. Not a local independent one, mind you. A couple of weeks ago, through details I won't get into, I received a gift card for Second Cup. I sat in a Second Cup on Bloor St., the one across from Bloor Cinema, writing and reading Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. Hey, that Pole/Ukrainian sure could write.

Anyway, A chocolate tart, a chilled green tea milkshake or whatever it was and a berry smoothie (I was there for awhile) cost me roughly $14. That's almost three pints in a pub. I'm not complaining. It wasn't my money and I'll probably feel better tomorrow morning than I would've with three pints. Mind you, I'm sure that chocolate tart packed alatta calories and wasn't all that healthy. But this morning I had no time to eat and thought I'll grab a muffin or something at Timmy Ho's on my way to work. I got there and saw I wouldn't have time to stand in a lineup going around the store. I ran across the street to another Second Cup. A (really small) scone and a croissant cost me $5. Five bucks! Now Magazine spent a whole whack of time bitching about how it costs up to $30 to get into the ROM. How about how it costs too much to do anything?

Anyway, I'll post some of what I wrote later. Like Lady MacBeth said, "to bed, to bed, to bed."

Haven't written here in awhile

I haven't written here in awhile.

I went and saw Juno last night. It was alright and kind of funny, though I found it bizarre they managed to make a comedy out of teenage pregnancy. I just don't understand what was so great about this movie to the point where it would be movie of the year and where one would think Ellen Page had an absolutely standout performance. I didn't think any of the performances or the story or the direction stood out with greatness.

Probably the highlight of my week this week was me launching my own poetry series in Toronto called Rich Dog Rhymes and Readings (RDRR). Probably 12-15 people showed up to see Krystle Mullin and Lara Bozabalian. I was happy with the turnout considering the miserably cold weather. This weekend seems to work as follows for poetry in Toronto: Toronto Poetry Slam on Saturday, $100 Slam on Sunday. Live Words on Monday and the Art Bar as well as the Plasticine Series. I figure I'll have to sit out one of these days. I have other things to do besides just poetry. The date for the next RDRR has not been set, but it will be on a Sunday at the Regal Beagle on Bloor St. W.

Four things bothering me tonight

1. The Raptors lost tonight.
2. The Raptors lost by a lot tonight.
3. The Raptors absolutely mailed it in toward the end tonight.
4. When in the shower, no miniature Irish woman pops her head out of the Irish Spring bodywash bottle to check out my manhood.