To The River!

A story in 1 part

2007-03-30T21:21:00.000-07:00

I walk into the Chinese restaurant, past the enormous stone Terracota Soldiers guarding the doors, their spent cigarettes dotting the ground beneath them.
"Try the Deep-Deep Fried Rice," says one with a deep, earthy voice.
I nod but make no eye contact. "Fuckin, ass-hat whitey," whispers the other, just loud enough for me to hear. I don't mind, I understand it's all part of the hazing I was told to expect. All part of the test. I ignore their snikering and step inside.
Inside the main lobby of the restaurant, the party is in full swing. The ceiling and walls are washed in a pale pink, highlighted here and there with the vibrant red tassles favored by such places. The far end of the room, if indeed there was any, is too far away for me to see, tables taking up space all the way to a horizon that faded into blackness, so that the room resembled a giant throat. A monolithic red tassle affair dangls from the centre of the room, completing the resemblance by serving as that 'dangly-thing-in-the-back-of-the-throat'. As for the floor, I can barely tell, so covered by tables, patrons and entertainers is it that I don't care to notice. The tables are all different sizes and shapes (some so high I can't see what is placed on them, those patrons seated there wearing stilts or jetpacks or some combination thereof) and there isn't an empty seat that I can see. Everywhere, human-like figures feast, drink, sing and dance, all in a blur. Each person - if they are indeed human - emits a bright but limited light, sometimes of a single colour but sometimes many. Mysteriously, everything in the room except the walls are cast in vibrant blues, greens, browns, aquas, yellows, even blacks. The sound is so loud that it is impossible to pick up any one conversation, but I at least know the language they're speaking: a futuristic version of English based on "The Price is Right".
I wait at the entrance, excited to be here but nervous to fail, when a few of the partiers point at me and colapse to the ground, wailing. I sense more than see their faces contort and frown widly as they cry "What's your bid?", and "Higher! Higher!"
At first I am stunned, terrorfied I have already blown my chance, but I know that I have to do something - say something - to show I'm worthy to work here. I don't know how long I retreated into my thoughts, but I suddenly realize that all activity has stopped and a potentially infinite number of eyes are fixed on me. Every one of the colourful figures weep openly, beating their chests and throwing themselves onto the ground in agony, screaming numbers. By now the kitchen staff has come out to see what is causing the comotion. The head chef - I recognized him from the advertismentes he sent to my dreams - simply stands, arms crossed, watching me expectantly rather than angrily. He wants to see how I handle it.
What the hell, I think to myself. I wave my hands at the crowd, wordlessly pleading them to be silent for a moment, and at once all noise ceases. Every one of them is frozen in place, bodies contorted in various degrees of distress, some hovering soundlessly despite the roar that their jetpacks should be making. Every set of eyes watch mine. I take a breath, and step forward.
"1 Dollar, Bob."
There is a moment, and then laughter. Thunderous laughter, god-laughter. Every single light-person points at me and laughs to the point of tears(themselves colourful and bright), for what seems like hours. Eventually, it dies down, and the general revelry that greeted me upon entering resumes, but not before I feel the burning sting of supreme embarassment.
"Well, at least you match the walls." Said the head chef as he walked towards me. At first, I thought he was refering to the shade of red I had turned as the blood rushed to my cheeks, but even as I observe my own hands, I watch them turn the same pale pink as the wall. Looking at the chef in astonishment, I notice that he too was the same colour.
"It means the restaurant likes you. Don't mind the diners, they put you on the spot and you got burned for it, but you'll get the hang of it."
I realize I must not be able to mask my relief, as he smiles and conceeds, "Yea, you got the job. Here's the guitar. The set-up is in the back, in the fridge."
Almost shaking with enthusiasm, I take the plastic white guitar and march confidently into the kitchen, the swing-doors opening easily. A blast of steem greets my face, its heat and moisture cleansing my skin, and my thoughts. I made it, I think. A gruff voices interupts my self-congradulation.
"Hey, you!"
A gigantic, muscular east-asian man in blue overalls and sporting a fu-man-chu mustache brandishes a saucepan in my direction.
"Are you the new kid?"
I quickly nod yes, my new found confidence just about crushed.
"Great. Hurry and set up. I havn't cooked in days!"
The giant man waits patiently as I run behind him, finding the fridge and turning on the XBox 360. The TV isn't great, but better than most I've played on. I ready my instrument and load up Guitar Hero 2. I select "Sweet Child of Mine" as my inagural track, and I hit all the first notes.
"Oh yea, that's great kid!" shouts the giant, as he deftly starts chopping a carrot and stirring meat over a lit stove pilot at the same time, all to the beat of the song. I feel the rush of my confidence returning, and let it fill me.
I'm going to be the best damned Guitar Hero player this ethereal Chinese Restaurant has ever seen.

TO POST THINGS I CLICK "CREATE" AND I FEEL LIKE MOTZART

2006-10-10T17:31:00.000-07:00

I like my coffee like my school - hard, yet intellectually rewarding. Can I get a shout out from my in-school friends, to verify?

Tomorrow I meet with webcomic celebrity (ha!) Ryan North, who makes comics about Dinosaurs, which is awsome in the literal sense of the word, the way that Poseidon is awsome. I'm interviewing him for my Careers in Media class, which is odd since I don't think he makes a living by writing a free webcomic.

I'm semi-distressed that a lot of people in positions I aspire to got there accidentally. All the comic writers (web and print) have University degrees in Moon Science or Atomic Strength, and got jobs calculating brain waves for a while before involuntarilly producing an independant or popular cultural phenomenon, probably while sleeping.

Historically, I feel that people who achieved the most success in their field did so without intending, or desiring to. It's like in Gladiator when the dieing Emperor makes Maximus his successor, even though he doesn't want to be and he's all like "I don't want to be Emperor, I want to farm crops and shit", and the Emperor is totaly "That's exactly why you gota be the Emperor!". And as we all know, Maximus is totally sweet and should have been Emperor, but that really creepy Joaquin Phoenix guy really wanted it and then he becomes Emperor and likes his sister too much and performs a weird tongue maneuver in the middle of an action scene for some reason.

(CANT FIND PICTURE OF IT BUT ITS ODD I ASSURE YOU)

That's a lot like real life. I guess you can't really consider Maximus to be a "successful" Emperor, but you know he would have been. If you don't get my analogy, I want to be a writer of comics and other such things, and have directed my life to that goal, but I am outclassed by individuals who have "fallen into" it, often as a hobby.

Basically, I want to be the first Joaquin Phoenix who isn't borderline incestual.

Thanks, come again, won't you?

Social Interaction 101

2006-09-11T17:20:00.000-07:00

What's the social protocal for walking into a public bathroom and seeing a grown man with a pretty rough lookin bloody nose?

Do you offer help? Or do you let him take care of himself, for fear of embarassing him. I mean, afterall, if he was beat up or something and really needed help, he'd ask for it, right? And if it was just a random nerd nosebleed, he'd rather not draw any more attention than neccessary, right?

Or what if you offer help, but he's so out of it from bloodloss that he decides to attack you, projecting his embarassment as rage against the person who innocently pushed him over the edge?

Or what if he's so depressed and desperate for love and care that he interperets my interest in his wellbeing as an invitation to start an intensly obsessive and dependant relationship with me, and starts stalking me while building a shrine out of my stray hairs and skin flakes?

HUNH?? WHAT THEN?!?
TELL ME I DID THE RIGHT THING!
TELL ME HE ISN'T DEAD!

They said College would be harder than high school, but damn!

I'm wet! You're wet! WHAAAALE!!!

2006-09-03T15:04:00.000-07:00

I havn't really posted anything for a while, cause nothing super exciting happened.

Except this.

WoooOOOAA!!

Also, brophy made it back alive, which I think we can all agree is a good thing. Mighty, mighty beard.

Anyhow, something awsome happened last night. The remnants of Hurricane Awsome came through burlington and made Lake Ontario go ape shit. Of course, like moths to a flame, we assembled our Danger Squad and investiagated.

Basicly, we found this -

Replace the brightness with darkness, the small man with 7 of us making our way through the unforgiving rocks and brush on the shore, and the old boats with... newer boats, and that's pretty much what happened.

Of course, navigating the dark and hostile beach was just a warmup for our actual fight with Poseidon himself, which took place on the pier out by the bridge to stoney creek.

After Le almost lost his foot in a magic hole on the first pier (the less dangerous one), we ran into some security guards who I thought would try and talk us out of our journey. Instead, the said "This is AWSOME!" and walked away. Burlington's finest.

We ventured to the Dangerous Pier, where giant waves crashed against the front wall and made a wave pool out of the surface. We took shelter behind the lighthouse, which split the giant waves around it if you could get directly behind it. But that still wasn't enough. A brave number of us went to the very front to try and see what nature had to dish, and dish it did.

Someone thought of the bright idea to crouch behind the waist-high wall, assuming the waves would crash over us and leave us dry as a bone. We neglected to take into consideration that water is indeed a liquid, and as such, goes all over the damn place.

After water shot up from underneith me and into my brain via my nostrils, we witnessed a bird bravely fighting the wind and sea. We cheared it on, only to watch it be consumed by the waves. It was tragic. Furthermore, Poseidon demanded another sacrafice, brophy's glasses.

That was the last straw.

We charged the front once more, to give nature what for. A big mother-wave hit us like a truck, and all but evans and myself were swept off their feet and pushed back. I was so pumped about staying on my feet that I high fived evans and made professional athelete style smack talk to the lake.

But then a larger, more angry Truck-Wave hit us, and sent both of us a good 10 meters back to the light house.

Poseidon rules.

Any Questions?

2006-07-18T18:40:00.000-07:00

1 Bear requires 6 Men to defeat in unarmed combat

The Bear will pick 1 man and maul him to death

When that happens, 4 of the other men will leap at the bear and wrap themselves around its arms and legs. This will confuse it, as it can not attack as effectively with the extra weight, and can not generate enough force to smash any of the men together powerfully enough to knock them out. With each man only having to worry about an attack from 1 limb, survival is likely.

The 5th (and preferably bravest) man will leap onto the back of the bear, wrap his legs around it's neck and plunge his hands into it's eyes, removing them violently. (NOTE: Diagram is outdated and vaguely shows a man leaping onto the FRONT of a bear's face. A revised diagram is in development, DO NOT ATTEMPT THE ACTION DESCRIBED IN OUTDATED DIAGRAM)

Once the bear realizes that it has had it's eyes removed, it will seek revenge. All combatants should disengage and scatter. The blind bear will have little chance of successfully tracking a moving target. Climb a tree or run down a hill, if it appears to be undetered.

Wait a month or more, and journey back into the woods. The bear should be dead from blood loss, disease, or from bullets from cowardly hunters.

Congradulations

Joe Rogan wasn't there!

2006-07-10T16:27:00.000-07:00

DUURRR MONKEYBOY WHERE MY FALSE TEETH AT

Man, UFC 61 "Bitter Rivals" was WEAK! Ortiz beat Shamrock, as intended by nature, but he didn't do it convincingly. It seemed like the ref was afraid Shamrock was gonna have a heart attack or something and called the fight before Ortiz could do any real damage. Which of course, had Shamrock's panties in a bunch. Poor bastard probably thought he was winning too.

Arlovski and Sylvia was just plain boring. It was like a 25 minute warm-up session, with one of them randomly being declared the World Champion. And they weren't even really rivals, let alone bitter. They clapsed and congradulated each other at the end. Bitter rivals don't do that.

Looking back, I understand why Rankine kept trying to order giant pitcher of beer after another. Just something to distract us from the disapointment. Do you see now why we didn't invite you, Clint and Ed? We tried to spare you the boredom, but you just wouldn't listen.

The next UFC's main event is Chuck Lidel vs. Captain Some Guy, which I think is basicly an excuse to let Lidel maul somebody on TV. Can't wait!

What? It was Canada Day?

2006-07-03T10:23:00.000-07:00

I didn't realize until this last weekend that part of me was missing. Some friends mentioned getting together for a BBQ and getting some fireworks for Canada Day. The word "fireworks" made me feel funny... and the more I thought about it, the more it felt right.

Yes, we needed fireworks. I needed fireworks. Not just for Canada Day, but for every day. We don't use fireworks nearly enough. I bought some to be used this past weekend (with a wizard riding a horse in front of a UFO, how could we NOT buy a 50$ firework) but also some for my own personal, or "medicinal" use.

Beat Halo 2 on Legendary? BOOM!
Breakfast tasted really good? EXPLOSION!!
Spring Equinox? BAM MUTHA!
Just did a sweet High-Five? POW!!

From now on, any emotion I express will be accompanied by an appropriate firework. I feel this makes me a better person.

WARNING: BEARDLESS FIGHTING AHEAD

2006-06-22T20:15:00.000-07:00

I really wanted to make a longer fight movie with at least an interesting story or gimik or something, but I realized it would require a lot of time, effort and the support of many other people.

So to make myself feel better, I made a so called "trailer" out of other footage.

Don't worry if you don't understand the talking at the beggining, or the text. Just rest assured that you're missing out on a really awsome and funny in-joke.

Super-People and Tiny Bugs Need Not Apply

2006-06-19T21:37:00.000-07:00

I keep trying to post another movie, but youtube is doing a crappy job of letting me upload, so in my frusteration and impatience to post something, I'll just throw up an X-Men comic re-lettering I did a couple months ago. There's a couple others, but this one is my favorite.

Click it to see the fuller version so you can read it properly... unless you can read really tiny letters, in which case you are either a super-person or a a really smart but tiny bug. Either way, your time should really be spent doing something better, like solving crime or dropping really tiny stones on small children, so stop reading this!

Stephen Colbert Has Me Bugged

2006-06-13T19:43:00.000-07:00

Just like most successful people in the world, Stephen Colbert has made a career off of suckling at my brain-teet. Most of the time though, the people who steal my ideas have the good decency to not rub it in my face. Colbert, however, lacks that kind of class.

He was talking to some NASA guy about the mars rovers, and the guy mentioned (in an annoying cocky scientist way) how the mars rovers were only designed to last a few months, but have been going on for so much longer. But then, he casually mentioned how the two rovers were "developing distinct personalities".

Now, I like to think that I have simple tastes. I like my coffee hot, my cereal with milk, and my robots lacking the ability to think independently and develop unique personalities. Why? Because when I think about robots becoming self-aware, the only outcome I can imagine is for them to become hellbent on destroying every last human being down to the last infant. I made a joke about it with my brother, about how these "distinct personalities" will eventually lead to the mars rovers cutting off communication with ground control and several years later descending upon the earth with an unholy army of martian robots.

Then, guess who made that same joke 2 seconds after I did? Stephen Colbert, that's who! Really man, I expected better. I'll assume my check is in the mail.

In the meantime, behold, the Roverlord!

Lawng Bak

2006-06-05T15:48:00.000-07:00

Not really a scene, more of a "study". From this video we walked away with a better understanding of the value of multiple cameras to capture something from different angles, rather than doing an action over and over to get the shots.

An action like jumping off marco's leg and smashing him into the ground, for example. Sure, we could have only done it once, but it wouldn't have been cool.

Marco's a Dirty Dog

2006-06-03T16:05:00.000-07:00

I've recently remembered that I really like filming random movies, but my camera and/or computer won't let me capture footage, so until I get that fixed, I'll have to fill the void with old movies my friends and I put together like 2 or 3 years ago.

It sure seemed like a good idea at the time.

It just wasn't his house anymore

2006-05-30T12:53:00.000-07:00

Someone out there didn't believe!

Hughs beat the crap out of Gracie. We all cheared for Gracie, but knew he was gonna be outclassed. Like Matt "Minh Khanh" Le says, Legends always lose. The coolest part though was when Hughs had him in an arm bar, and Gracie didn't seem to notice or care. If he had tapped out, no one would like him anymore.

The UFC is always exciting though, and the match before Hughs vs. Gracie was awsome! I've never seen a man try to break another man's arm using his face before, but there it was. Also, a flying knee in the match after the Superfight was incredible! Stuff like that is what makes me want to fight, but hopefully not on the receiving end. If only I learned how to throw a Hydukan, then I'd never have to worry.

Fortunetly, I can win matches based solely on my fighting profile picture.

Check it.

Are you terrorfied? Cause I am.

OH YEA

2006-05-24T14:58:00.000-07:00

Now I remember. This one really had me pissed off for a couple of days.

Some friends and I sat around a tim hortons table one evening, the somber expressions on our faces glazed by pillars of steam rising from our extra-large hot chocolates, waiting for one another to make the first move and launch our destinies forward. Our mission - design a board game we could actually sell to a company, thus eliminating the need for a summer job.

What started off as jokes soon led to full blown brain-storming, and we came up with a solid idea: Zombies. We all love zombies and fantasize about clubbing wave after wave of ineffectual cannibal monsters, so why wouldn't the world love a board game with that love in mind?

So we worked out the objectives and overall mechanics of the game, and decided that players would all have to work together to progress, but as time went on and the final objective came into sight, players would turn on eachother in an effort to be the sole survivor, because only one player would make it to the helicopter and triumph over all.

We were pretty excited, until a fatefull Google search shattered our hopes like a baseball bat to the cervix.OOOOOPSE ! ! !
YOU LOSE LOL ! ! !

SON OF A BITCH

It seems that someone beat us to it by about 10 years. And not just the concept either, but the entire game mechanic. Reading a description of this game was like reading a transcript of our conversation a few nights before.

The worst part is that it sounds really fun, and I kind of want to buy it (it's available at almost every comic shop) but my seething hatred for time-traveling idea-stealers often gets the better of me.

We were pretty crushed by this whole fiasco and never really recovered our motivation to make a board game, although we do have alternate rules for a G I Joe board game that changes it from a simple dice-rolling fight into a highly specialized form of chess...

TO BE CONTINUED??

Why I Should Wear A Tinfoil Hat

2006-05-21T10:33:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty much always complaining that people have stollen my ideas, so I think it's time I started keeping track of what exactly has been plundered from my ripe and juicy brain and what villain did the plundering. I don't even know if I can remember them all, but I'll start with the most outrageous.

BEAR COMBAT SUIT

In grade 7 or 8, I came up with a sweet idea - to develop and build a suit of armor for the sole purpose of fighting a bear in hand to hand combat. I was so excited, and sketched a number of possible prototypes, all of which have been lost to time. If I still had them, however, I could probably sue this guy -
This guy did EXACTLY what I had in mind... it could take sledge hammers, pick axes, and even a pick-up truck to the chest and the guy inside was still good to go. Before I even had a chance to build my first shoddy bear fighting suit, this guy perfected it. But the worst part, he doesn't even try to fight bears. He doesn't even challenge pro wrestlers or something super cool like that. This guy decides he's gonna STUDY bears with MY bear combat suit! Can you believe that crap?!? Study them!

That's not only an insult to me, but to bears all over the world. You can't just walk up in their turff and expect them to let you measure their snout length and all that bull without earning their respect, and you do NOT earn a bears respect by letting it hit you in the chest with a pick axe. You gotta step up! Rough em up a little, and then they'll let you poke and prod em all day cause they'll know that you got the marbles to back yourself up. Its simple zoology! SHEESH!

I've got myself so worked up about this that I can't remember the other things people have ripped off from me, but I'll get to it.

Oh yes, I'll get to it.

A very Lawson Christmas

2006-05-17T15:54:00.000-07:00

These are from Christmas, and it was the first time I had seen my little cousins in years. At first they didn't recognize me, being slightly more sassquatchesque than before, but they soon warmed up to me...
so warm that their bloodlust made them crazy enough to challenge me! To calm things down, I played Super Smash Bros with little Andrew and made him do 200 pushups over the course of the weekend for loosing. I like to set examples.

On Camera - My mother, my brother, and I.

Off Camera - Andrew and Hannah punching my knees. Bless their fighting spirits.

Hannah spent most of the weekend pretending I was a Furby and that she was going to kill me. I know this, because she'd say "Hi Furby. DIE Furby!!"

Needless to say, I was impressed.

LOVE AND UH PEACE ! ! !

Let's - Fight - Again !

2006-05-16T19:05:00.000-07:00

I wish real life was like a tournament fighting game - Everyone is special and unique, has their own style, is able to do crazy Ong-Bak level of fighting manevuers, and even if you get the crap kicked out of you, you just get up and fight again. It's like Valhalla, except its full of drunken masters, native american wrestlers, Bruce Le rip offs and a boxing kangaroo.

Plus, everyone has a ridiculous and sometimes non-sensical one-liner before and after the fight. Mine would be "Wu Cha, Mutha!" and when I win I'd say "Ha! That's what SHE said!"