Kat Dennings Was In Town And Nobody Told Me About It?!!!

Holy fuck! Are you guys fucking kidding me?!!!

I got a chance to watch Defendor a little while back, and I'm pretty pissed off that Norah from Nick And Norah's Infinite Playlist, one of my favourite movies of all time, was in my city and I didn't hear about it at all! I'm pissed off beyond comprehension!

As I watched this movie, I recognized all of the landmarks that seemed to be on the obvious side.

I totally saw the Show World peep show back alley from when I used to go there. I remembered all the perverts walking in there with their short gym shorts and no underwear, but armed with lots of quarters. Of course, I only needed 50 cents, and I was ready to go out the back way, into that back alley.

How could you not see the Columbia Chemicals site? They were the only ones on Burlington Street with stacks and stacks of white, blue and black smoke coming out of them consistently.

How about the now-defunct Harvest Burger? That place was an institution! I enjoyed their greasy food, and their ratty fold down chairs, and the bums that hung about in the bar area. I'm soooo happy somebody caught that on film. At least when I yearn for the place, I can watch that scene where Woody Harrelson gets busted by the cops there, over and over again.

And what about Jackson Square? The scene where Kat walks by the dry cleaners her dad owned. Goddamn, I walk through there every week!

I enjoyed Defendor. Like Nick And Norah was a love song to New York, Defendor was, it seemed, a love song to my beloved city of Hamilton.

About the author:

Everytime he arrives to the Hammer, wherever he's coming from, he always mutters, "hello, beautiful," and means it.

Anyway, the house in Hamilton is sold, and I'm off to greener pastures. It might be quite a while before I come back to the big city. I'll miss you, Hamilton.

I love you. Always will.

Catching Up . . .

I love getting stuff in the mail! I got one from a buddy of mine months ago. Just catching it up now. This mix was buried in my car months back from the awful commute. Just popped it back in and is quite enjoyable.

Maybe eventually I'll get around to making a mix of my own. One can only dream . . .

He also sent me a, "may the 4th be with you," postcard in reference to the date and a Star Wars saying.

I forgot to send people to this artist's propaganda site which is chock full of Star Wars thingies. Go here:
Steve Thomas Gallery

He also has a bunch of other artworks with references from various movies. They provide a chuckle, like an inside joke but also quite aesthetically pleasing.

Red House For Sale!

I own a bit of property in Hamilton, and it breaks my heart to part with it. This is, by the way dear readers, the same property where I fell in love with my city.

I built an aluminum shed at the back in the middle of a windstorm. I replaced the roof myself, and had nightmares for weeks about falling off of it. My mother and daughter have both fallen down the stairs, multiple times. The value of the house is waaaaay more than what we've listed for.

Tell your friends, it's priced to sell. Send them to the link below for more info:
232 Bay Street, Hamilton

BUY MY HOUSE!

Somebody's gotta pay for my funemployment!

Everything Is Exciting With A Countdown!

13 Days until the wedding!

2 Days until we make our way back home to Hamilton!

This is exciting stuff!

http://www.mywedding.com/victorandlise/

Things To Miss About Hamilton #4: Cheapies And the 99 Cent Record

Before I forget. Because I know I'm going to.

There are little unadulterated pleasures in life. All of us should have at least one thing that gives us joy, making our brief existence here somewhat bearable.

If for some reason you don't possess even that one thing that makes you happy, I suggest you find it quick. And when you do, keep it close to you and celebrate it often.

Because it can't be candyfloss and blowjobs every day.

I'm sharing my little bit of joy.

I have my record-buying bag in tow. Right now, it looks like a purse. Up a few blocks from home is one of my favourite record shops, with a name that speaks to my soul. I'm quite a thrifty bastard, even in the best of times, and the Cheapies moniker pulls me toward it like a fucking magnet.

I go in, and acknowledge the rude record store clerks I barely recognize. I head to the back, where the cheap vinyl are, to spend at least a few hours in my own solitude. I take my time, sifting through the mould, the old, and the unheard of. People that wander by are invisible to me. I'm focused. I pick piles out and separate them in my head.



Gotta Have. Definitely Maybe. Distant Maybe (depending on the budget).

I really don't care about nicks and scratches. Sometimes it's just good to have something physically to take home, and maybe hear that one track that's been in your head for years, finally being enlightened all over again. Who cares if it sounds like dog shit? It's all in how you remember it.

I walk out, heading home. My record-buying bag is full. It hardly looks like a purse anymore.

67 King Street East. HamilTONE!

Things To Miss About Hamilton #3: Waterfront Trail Torture

Goddamn, I miss running. I miss it as much as wine enemas.

I ran the 30k, and now I'm over it. But one thing I do miss was the training aspect of things, specifically taking Chewy for a run around the water.

You see, the training for the race, on my part, was pretty lackluster. I didn't follow the training program. I was lazy. I didn't stay on a clean diet. When it rained, I stayed home. I didn't run in a group. I thought groups were gay.

My running group was made up of myself and my dog Chewy. We'd run a little 2.2k trail around the water every night after work. Sometimes we'd run it a few times, but mostly one lap was enough to break us into a sweat, and we'd just head home.

But on Sunday morning, Chewy would always be game for our torture run on The Waterfront Trail.



So every Sunday morning, we'd start from our house, down to the Bayfront Park, going to Cootes Paradise, going up The Stairs Of Death onto York and try to limp back home.

5.5k.

It's a great wake up if you're still hungover from the night before. Just ask your liver and kidneys.



What Chewy and I both enjoyed are the views. Myself, the sun slowly shimmering across the water, and for Chewy, all the ducks and geese close to the shore, teasing him. It is quite a sight, though. It made some of the pain go away. And it was quite a workout, trying to hold the stupid dog back from taking a swim.

To give people proper warning, the trail is just that . . . a trail. There's no lavish access points along the way, no mini malls, no parking for your big cocksucking SUV. You go in with your bicycle, your rollerblades, or just your legs. But if you get stuck, you're fucked. There's nobody to call to come and get you, unless you can swindle some fucker to bring his boat to where you are. So when you make the decision to go do this, it's iron-clad. There's no turning back.

The Halfway Point (The Stairs Of Death)




Take a deep breath. Don't bypass the stairs and head for Coote's Paradise. It is nice and all, but it will just prolong the agony, taking you all the way to Westdale. Do go up these stairs, swiftly and efficiently. It's the equivalent of doing 75 lunges with weight, so expect a little lactic acid forming in your quads soon afterward.

Almost Home



Let's take a minute. Check out the view. It's nice, with the exception of the steel plant by the water, but let's not get into that.

I do miss the peace and serenity that comes with a run by the water after dawn. It makes all the effort made worth the price of action. By the time we end up on York Street, we're spent. But it's such a satisfaction that doesn't come with a lame running clinic spurring you on. It was my own motivation, and my own goals that pushed my desire to get up early and get it done while other people were still sleeping.

We make the turn to Copps. Chewy and I slow it down.

Then we're home.

Now, where's that WINE for my enema?!

Things To Miss About Hamilton #2: Junk Food Cheaply

My wife and I making a return to our hometown Hamilton for a brief tour, and it's been weeks since we've been home. So I've decided to tally up all of the certain gluttonous items that she and I enjoy when we're home, and exhibit no self-control.

Mex-I-Can!

It's hard to find good authentic Mexican food anywhere. This hole in the wall located on James North is a prize waiting to be found. Tacos, enchiladas, flautas,and the best guacamole-in-a-stone-bowl you will ever have. Order it up, tuck in.

They even have their own tindera, so you can take home your own tortillas and Fanta and Jarritos!

(As far as I recall though, no tamales. Kind of a drag, but fuck you! Go to McDonald's, you jagoff!)


Crystal Dynasty (pronounced Die-NASTY!)

I'm a sucker for good, tasty Chop Suey. They gots it. Their Cantonese Chow-Mein is like your mom . . . loaded and saucy. HEYO!

Situated down the street from Copps, this grease trap offers a lot of charm. I think my table consisted of a crate stood vertically, with a table-top made of chipboard! This place is ghetto-fabulous!

Harvest Moon on James is good also. Highlight dish: Spicy Fried Pork Chops.


Sushi Star

All-You-Can-Eat Sushi. And it's fucking amazing, despite the shut-down from the Food Inspection Agency.

In the heart of downtown, on King.

Very charming.

Very Good.

Please, please, try the Dragon Roll. I could eat that all day.

Please, please, don't try the Hamilton Roll. Unless you're being ironic or retarded.

Actually, with sushi, we alternate between Sushi Star, or Sapporo on Main, or August 8th on Wilson. We actually did that for a week, and by the end of it we were all sushi-ed out.

If you are looking for Pho, please check out my previous posts to find out where in Hamilton you can find a steaming bowl of sexy.

Eat-A-Pita

Located on King Street, across the tattoo parlor, they possess the best Chicken Shawarama in town. Their distinction from the rest of the pack is that they roll up your super-loaded pita, then slap it on the grill for a quick toast.

Super cheap. Super amazing.

They even have another location on the other side of town on Main. Other establishments that come close are Nabil's on Wilson, Sana Grill on King, the other on Barton, and Lulu's on John. Try Eat-A's first, then check out the others to compare.

Modern India Buffet

All-you-can-eat Indian food is heavenly. This place on Main has it all: the curries, the pakoras, and tandoori-style dishes to put you in a hot sweat.

Try drinking milk before gorging yourself on Hot Indian. (There's a joke in there somewhere. Please help me out by leaving some tasteless jokes in the COMMENTS section.)

There are so many places that are soooo cheap to eat at and easily accessible, that I don't understand why we even stay in to make food. This serves as a guide as to where the tour of gluttony will make their stops.

Stop by and come see us for a bite . . .

Things To Miss About Hamilton #1: The Cheap Noodle

Pho solves everything.

In harsh times, where budgets are being stretched to the limit, I can always count on the inexpensive Asian noodle. The Udon, the Ramen, and of course, Pho.

When everything in the universe is out of whack, go to one of the many Vietnamese noodle establishments all over Hamilton, and have a some goodness to realign it back. My regular haunts are the Pho Dau Bo On Cannon or the one on Queenston, The Pho Bo on Barton, or the very best at Bien Thanh on Cannon, close to downtown.

None of these restaurants ever hurt my wallet, but my problems totally dissipate after a hot bowl of love. Make sure to ask for extra sliced meat!

I Say Disco, You Say Drunk!

One of the many things we will miss about Hamilton is goddamn "Disco/Punk," night at Absinthe. Located in the anus of downtown, a cramped, dirty basement bar that many people wouldn't be caught dead in, is my favourite place.

DJ Digisnail murdered the dance floor last night! He fucking killed it! His set pretty much had all the choice nugs from my "Chuck U Farley," mix, http://tinyurl.com/yhf47ot
, and by the time he got to play MSTRKRFT, I pretty much lost my voice. That's something special, because I usually save my throat for heckling prima-donna millionaires and the odd bout of tourette's.




This sure beats having one-person dance-offs in my living room. One of the best dance parties I've ever discovered up the street from my house, with like-minded indie-rock kids jam-packed in a little basement!

So hats off to you guys at Absinthe. You guys put on a hell of a drunkfest. I'll miss you.

Pictures in this post were used without permission. Try to find me, fuckers!

And ladies, why the hell bother LOOKING for Mr. Right? Go to Absinthe and FIND Mr. Right Now!

The Countdown Is On . . .

It's only a little while before we pack up and leave, turning this:



into this:



Check the counter to the right of the screen.

And for fuck's sakes, vote for your favourite shitty Blue Jay!

About the author . . .

My birthday is April 12th.
Home base is Hamilton.
I've plenty to keep me busy.
Come over if you want to discuss Hair-Metal and Baseball.
Be sure to bring beer.
Or coffee.