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[01 Nov 2006|04:08pm] |
I chased a pink balloon out onto a busy street today. It was pretty windy, and no one thought I was going to get it, but I did, and right before it met near-certain death on Highway 27. The balloon has a cartoon beaver face on it, and two 'ears' that very strongly resemble nipples.
When I came into my humanities class today, there were several of them set up for what I assume was a presentation (or a party?). I laid claim to the pink one, for which the teacher dubbed me 'Mr. Pink'.
So when I lost my grip on the thing and it blew out onto the road, I was pretty upset. My friend Sandra kept saying, "It's gone, Tim, it's gone" as if she was talking to a kid. And when it was almost completely out of my range of vision, I decided to run for it.
It was oddly exciting.
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| Blackout |
[30 Oct 2006|04:07pm] |
The power has been down for about 6 hours in my residence building. The word on the street is that some sort of outside construction work was going on and they cut into the powerline, and it could be out until tomorrow. Thankfully, I don't have anything in my minifridge. But the lack of warm water's probably going to get pretty problematic after a while. A lot of the dudes on my floor smell really bad.
I did meet a few of my floormates though. Turns out the people on my floor don't all suck, I was just stuck on the shitty end of the hall. The people who live around the bend at the opposite end seem hella cool.
There's one guy a few doors down from me who listens to the Backstreet Boys a lot, and not in an ironic, look-at-how-funny-I-am way. He particularly likes their Millenium album, which I'm sad to say I can identify. He doesn't seem ashamed of his BSB love either, since he keeps his door open while he listens to it on his stereo. The fact that he's an overweight Star Trek nerd especially complicates things, because I didn't think a person like him could possibly exist... but there he is. Look at him go. He also likes Bon Jovi's more recent musical output. Bon Jovi hired Scandanavian hitmaker Max Martin to write music with him... that's the dude who wrote songs for Britney, the Backstreet Boys and probably most bad-but-infectious song that's been on the radio in the last ten years, and I noticed that he didn't really curb his style too much for the Jovi. 'It's My Life' in particular sounds like it could have been a Backstreet Boys song if the instrumentation had been a little different.
I'm currently abusing my computer privelleges at the Humber Computer Commons. I rule.
Okay, I think I'm going to catch the second part of my Humanities lecture. It's the second one I've attended this year. THAT's how bored I am.
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| A brief encounter |
[15 Aug 2006|01:14pm] |
I was walking to a bar after a show a few nights ago and I could hear a guy screaming at me from a car that was speeding by. He shouted directly at me (and I quote):
"You look like you just got fucked in the ass, fag!"
I was pretty dumbfounded at what a needlessly hateful remark it was, but I shot back:
"At least one of us got laid tonight!"
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[07 Aug 2006|10:26pm] |
To anyone I haven't shown - I'm in a horror movie called 'Psycho Ward'. I play a guy called Tino.
I'm in this teaser trailer, for about half a second. View it here in glorious Quicktime.
http://www.psychowardthemovie.com/
WATCH.
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| Grease! |
[01 Jul 2006|03:38pm] |
From August 8-20, I'm going to be performing in Escape Production's 'Grease!' in the Bluma Appel Theatre at the St. Lawrence Centre for the Performing Arts in Toronto.
I'm playing Eugene, the school nerd (I played him four years ago).
It's my first professional show, and my first show in Toronto, so I'm damn excited. Come see it if you have the chance.
Tickets range from 35-56 dollars I believe, but the theatre's not that big so there are no really bad seats to my knowledge. It seats over 800 but the audience is raked like a stadium.
I haven't advertised at all to this point but tickets are apparently going pretty quick (they extended the run by several shows).
www.escapeproductions.ca
I'm hella excited!
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| A LIFE OF CRIME and The Scars to Prove it - review |
[02 Jun 2006|12:22pm] |
The now-immortal Wesley Willis said it best: Going on long road trips can really be a hellride.
In the documentary 'A Life of Crime', James Loftus and John Eagan packed a couple of mini-DV cameras and hopped into 'Bessie', a grumbling monster of an old van, to accompany Ontario-based indie band The Parkas on their second cross-Canada tour.
They set out to make a film that would capture the typical experiences of a fledgling Canadian band on the road. And though I've never been in said situation before, I can guess that they got a lot more than what they bargained for - and that's a good thing.
Nearing the end of the two month tour, the Parkas were on the road discussing recording their follow-up to their critically acclaimed debut album 'Now This is Figthing'. When trying to schedule what dates they would record, founding member Grady Kelneck announced "I don't think I want to be in the band anymore". The scene is explosive, and Loftus and Eagan wisely bookend their film with parts of it. After being teased with the terse breakup scene right off the bat, I was all the more curious to know: What the hell happened on that tour?
The short answer is that the Parkas regularly play in lousy bars with minimal promotion, no crowds, and worse - very little money. When we're given a glimpse of the east coast concert goers, the result is both humourous and depressing.
Thankfully Loftus and Eagan showcase the Parkas' comedy as well as their pathos. A trip down the 'Magnetic Hill', idiotic beer guzzling, and emaciated bassist Mark Rhyno all provide much-needed laughs during the very frustrating tour.
But most importantly we have the music. Though they don't always sound so hot playing for empty rooms with bad sound setups, the Parkas music endures. Though I'd recommend attending a live show that people show up to for a primer in the Parkas, the movie is damn good to listen to given the limitations of the filmmakers equipment.
For this reason I was particularly glad the new Parkas EP 'The Scars to Prove it' was included with the DVD. Recorded 3 months after Grady's departure, the companion disc showcaes the growth and maturation of several songs that were performed in the documentary.
With Grady gone, guitarist Michael Brown is left to his own devices as lead singer and he shines, pushing himself to both extremes of his vocal range as well as showing off a loopy vibratto on 'Sweet Amputations'. In terms of raw emotion, Brown's best is the Dylanesque 'The Highway Divides'. Written as a bitter send-off to Grady after the tour, the song is a roots-rock gem that is all the more powerful to anyone who's seen 'A Life of Crime'. In that context, the break-up songs on the EP seem all the more authentic. Also included is a live version of Brown's flagship concert song, 'My Life of Crime', which is sadly a lot better than the version used in the film named for it, and maybe even better than the originally recorded version. Definitely a great bonus, and I can't wait to hear the newer stuff that they're currently recording for their next full-length.
www.theparkas.com
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| Cheesesticks |
[11 Apr 2006|09:49pm] |
I was on the subway yesterday, and I sat on the seat facing the aisle, opposite a mother with two little kids. One was a little girl, about five, and the other was a boy, young enough to still be in a stroller. They were both enjoying cheesesticks (remember those?). They were very cute kids. For what it's worth, they were oriental... and asian kids are cute.
I'm reading the newspaper or doing my crossword puzzle or whatever, and the woman sitting beside me is talking to the mother across the aisle, so I find I keep looking over at them. I have no idea what they were talking about, it's not important, but the woman beside me pointed to the little boy and said, "You've got too much there".
I look up above my newspaper and I see the little boy with a mouthfull of cheesestick... he's just mutilating the thing in his mouth. There's drool everywhere, because he can't even get his baby teeth through the thing... just this mess of processed cheddar that he can't possibly work his way through. It's a little gross.
Then the mother says, "oh no... open up". The kid opens his mouth, she takes the chewed up disgusting cheesestick, and sticks half of it in her mouth, and swallows it.
It was so fucking gross. I dryheaved a bit, and made a quick disgusted sound, which I quickly swallowed, ironically enough. Then what's left of the cheesestick in this kid's mouth tumbles out and lands on my shoe.
Nice.
I'd imagine the drool residue remains on my shoe to this very day.
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[23 Mar 2006|10:28pm] |
I met these two old, European-sounding men at the Yonge-Bloor subway station today. One was standing, wearing a baseball cap with the letter 'P' on it and playing violin. The other was sitting, wearing a stereotypical Russian-style hat and playing accordian.
I asked them if they knew anything from The Beggar's Opera by Kurt Weill and Bertold Brecht. Neither of them could make out any of what I was saying, but then one of them said 'oh, opera'... and then they played Mozart's 'Serenade' for me and it was very nice.
I then took out my cell phone and played my 'Serenade' ringtone for them. The man playing accordian really seemed interested in the phone and kept asking me how much it cost (I wasn't sure because my dad bought it).
I took these pictures of them really hastily. I really want to get a real camera. The second guy's hand is blurry because he was waving at the camera.
"Your English, it is very very good... mine is not good... I'm taking lessons."
"How much was it? 190? 200? Is the picture... is it camera...? *waves at camera*"
I loved seeing these two old guys playing music for the love of it... they didn't seem to have made a lot of money at it, but they were having a great time when I saw them.
While I was watching them play, I saw a very small girl was watching them with her parents and her mom handed her a few coins to drop into their violin case. When she got close to the accordian player and they made eye contact for few seconds, she ran and hid behind her mother's leg.
I remember that feeling. Old people used to scare the hell out of me when I was little.
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| Something that happened today |
[22 Mar 2006|04:56pm] |
I was walking north on Dufferin early this afternoon, walking towards the Eglinton West subway station. Normally when I'm traveling downtown I head in the opposite direction, but for whatever reason I decided to take a slower route through Little Jamaica today.
As I neared the corner of Dufferin and Eglinton I heard a loud, guttural cry coming from a bus shelter that I had just passed. As I stood dumbfounded by the noise I noticed a young woman who was trailing just behind me with a baby in a stroller stop in her tracks as well.
"What was that?" I asked her.
"I don't know," she said, her eyes staring unflinchingly at the bus shelter. There was a large advertisment obscuring our view of what was going on inside the shelter, but it sounded bad.
"Did you see anything in there?" I asked her.
"Two people fighting... a guy and a girl..." she said, her attention diverted to the big yellow construction vehicle that had pulled up on the curb beside the shelter. The two men inside the vehicle were obviously watching whatever was occuring.
The woman with the baby resumed her walking. "Maybe they'll do something about it," she said, ushering to the construction vehicle. But immedietely after she said this, the yellow machine pulled away. I was left alone to deal with it.
I walked towards the bus shelter, and with each step the muffled screaming from inside the glass walls became more and more audible. If I'd had headphones on, I could have easily mistaken the scene as two people huddling together in the corner of the booth for warmth. But it wasn't very cold out, and though it was difficult to make out exactly what was being said through the hysterical sobs of the girl, the young man she was with was definitely menacing her, and he was very loudly instructing her to 'shut the fuck up'.
I walked by the booth a few times and surveyed the situation carefully. He was hovering over her, and she was backed into a corner. I didn't make eye contact with either of them, but I assume because I was roving by so slowly that he must have noticed me. His acknowledgement of my prescense was likely the only thing stopping him from hitting the girl, because everything else about the situation implied violence. They both looked young, most likely teenagers.
My immediete thought was to step into the shelter and do my best to firmly but calmly put a stop to it. He seemed too volatile for that. If I tried to break it up with words, he'd likely attack me. It occured to me that I'd probably have more luck ambushing him violently... I didn't have anything on my physical person that I could use as a weapon, but I could probably throw him through one of the glass panels of the shelter. He wasn't big... he looked several inches shorter than me, and his baggy clothing that was draped off his body revealed a small frame. The girl he was with was smaller still... I'd wager she weighed little more than 100 pounds.
The only thing that stopped me was the realization that he may have had a weapon. He PROBABLY had a weapon. He was a coward... he had to be. A person who would mercilessly bully someone so small was a coward. But it sounded as if she was crying for help... why would she do that if the level of danger was that severe? Her life was probably not in immediete danger, but if I intervened the decision could have been a disaster.
I ran to the nearby gas station, borrowed a phone book, and called the police to report a domestic disturbance. As I was speaking to the operator, I saw a few police cars turn the corner towards the bus shelter with their sirens blazing. It immedietely occurred to me that someone else had already reported the crime, and the operator informed me that someone had.
I saw the two figures from the shelter running away from the cruisers, across the street, and on to a bus. Or I thought it was them... I couldn't be very sure but it looked like them. I glanced back at the two cop cars now parked beside the bus shelter. The empty bus shelter. The abuser must have realized the sirens were directed at him and hurriedly jumped onto the bus. I quickly took note of the bus as it pulled away... 32D to Eglinton West station.
I ran across the road to the police officers, who were speaking to an elderly woman who had witnessed the scene and called the police. I tried to interject to tell them that the suspect and victim had just boarded the 32D bus, but the police officers were slow to understand what I was telling them. After about a minute one of the officers realized that he should pursue the bus, and he got in his cruiser and left. I wanted to go with him, since I would have done a much better job of identifying them than he could have, but I stayed there at the crime scene, completely useless.
I listened to the woman as her witness report was filed, and her assessment of the scene indicated that she had seen the suspect strike the victim, more than once, from her house across the road. That she could her his bellows and her cries from inside her house across a busy street is a testament to how shrill and cacophonous the assault was. She claimed that the victim was a child... she was unsure of its gender but she guessed it to be 8 years old.
I believe that she was likely underage, but she was at the very least an adolescent, and definitely a female. I gave the best assessment of the scene that I could but my mind was plagued with regret for not chasing after them on the bus... I could have followed them to wherever they were going and he likely would have been arrested. The second cruiser pulled away in pursuit of the bus, but I had a feeling it was too late.
When I got to the Eglinton West station, I ran to the cruisers that were parked there, and tapped on one of their windows. No sign of either parties in the dispute.
The attacker will probably never be caught for the offense, "unless she leaves him and comes forward," the officer told me.
I said to her, "for what it's worth, I saw them up close and the victim was definitely a female and certainly not 8 years old... she may have been in her young teens but she wasn't a small child."
"In situations like this," she said, "witness reports are usually full of misinformation, so it's not surprising that her account was so vague. But you did the right thing by reporting it."
"Thanks."
In the slim chance that the crime is reported by the victim, I may have to testify in court as to what I saw, and heard. But unfortunately the guy will probably never be brought to justice for it. I have a strong suspicion that he will end up in jail someday for another offense, though.
The taste of disgust I had was strong, not only to witness an act of violence like that, but also to know that several others saw it happen, and turned a blind eye to it.
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| A Love Letter |
[07 Mar 2006|03:58am] |
I recieved a notice in my email inbox today from iVillage. The title read 'Tim, Megan has sent you a love letter!'
'How pleasant!' I thought. 'I will read it right away!'
I opened the message hoping for a flowery love letter from my sweetie. But it was not a love letter. It was a link to a 'love compatibility test'.
See, Megan had already taken the test, and now I had to take it as well, and some computer machine scantron thing somewhere will put our two tests together, and then I imagine a council of very smart actors like Ben Stein and Kelsey Grammar will be consulted, and then a verdict will be reached to the question that hangs over my head like the Sword of Damocles:
ARE MEGAN AND I COMPATIBLE?
'I sure hope so! I'd hate to find out we aren't after almost a year of dating... then I'd have to break it off and we'd both be sad. But the testers know their shit, I guess, and it must be obeyed, or strict penalties may be enforced.'
So I wrote the test. Perhaps 'wrote' is the wrong word. It was only like 15 multiple choice questions. Seemed kind of short given the weight of the test but they were pretty key questions, such as 'what's your idea of a perfect date', 'sex toys: yay or nay' and the like. I managed to avoid the standard traps that were laid out for me to plummet into. A few of them were pretty obvious. For example, I KNEW that the right answer to the 'pefect date' question couldn't be 'I leave her at home and go to the rub 'n' tug', so I picked one of the safer choices.
By the time I'd reached the test's end, I had lost about 5 pounds in water weight from all the sweating... and was praying for the first time in my life.
After shedding a single tear I clicked the 'get my results' button.
I was told that in approximately ten seconds I would recieve my results. A new page began to load... it read 'Page not found'. I cried a little, then screamed a bit, and then did a combination of screaming and crying that warranted my first noise complaint.
So if it's alright with everyone, I'm going to stay with Megan, despite the fact that the test was never processed.
I love her too much to leave her just because Kelsey Grammar tells me I should.
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| One side of my face hurts |
[02 Mar 2006|02:27pm] |
At around 11:00 on Tuesday, I had my wisdom teeth cut out of the back of my mouth and pulled out of me.
The good news is:
I'm alive.
The bleeding stopped within 24 hours.
The left side of my mouth feels alright.
They put me on cool drugs during the procedure.
They let me keep my teeth, even though a few of them have been smashed to bits.
I'll never have to have my wisdom teeth pulled out of me ever again.
Megan made me some stew, and bought me some Dairy Queen.
The bad news is:
The right side of my face is as swollen as Kanye West's ego, and it hurts to close my mouth on that side.
I haven't been in quite enough pain to warrant taking any Demerol.
The frayed ends of the stitches that I'm able to bat around with my tongue are hella annoying.
In other news:
It looks like the long-awaited EP and DVD by the Parkas is finally coming out... at some point. They've got a new website up that is still in testing, but the design definitely trumps the old one. You can download two of the songs on the EP at www.theparkas.com. Hopefully there will be a mini-tour over March Break when Greg Rhyno isn't teaching, and I'm able to leave the house.
I've been cast in a production of Cabaret. I get to sing an a capella solo of the Nazi anthem 'Tomorrow Belongs to Me'. If I don't fuck that up, it could be a highight of the show. The company seems to be pretty damn good. A lot of the people at callbacks were semi-professionals, and the directorial team definitely seemed to have their shit together a lot more than, say, the RCMPi. The only downside is that it's in Scarborough, exactly an hour away from my apartment, but the travel time will allow for me to learn my shit on the way to and from rehearsals.
My relatives want me to sing at some 25th anniversary party for my parents, the date of which has not been disclosed to me yet. I'm not sure why my relatives want to celebrate a marriage that doesn't seem very happy, but putting that aside I might not even be able to attend in lieu of the Cabaret production. Pretty shitty.
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| I will soon be rich |
[12 Feb 2006|08:03pm] |
I'm currently hard at work creating a female deodorant. The deodorant will contain pheremones that will attract mates to the person who wears it.
The TV ads that I'm going to shoot are brilliant. Honestly, they're very funny and I think people will really get a laugh out of them... the premise is as follows:
A woman is walking down the street, and several men start pursuing her in an attempt to have sex with her. She hurries her pace to avoid their advances, but they are coming from several directions, and eventually they all catch up to her. The audience is left to assume some sort of gang rape occurs.
I think that women will consume it in droves, if the marketing research I've done into AXE's advertising campaigns was any indication.
I was worried at first that people might be offended by this ad, but then I decided that as long as I cast goodlooking, well groomed actors to play the rapists, then no one should take issue. Am I right or am I right?
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| Awful |
[24 Jan 2006|05:19pm] |
Participants on The Jerry Springer Show wear their microphone packs on their underwear, in case they feel the need to strip down to said skivies at any point.
I feel blessed to know that I've never been in an argument that I thought I could win by taking off my shirt or pants.
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[10 Jan 2006|03:44am] |
Has anyone else seen R. Kelly's 'Trapped in the Closet'?
I am trying to create a drinking game centered around the 45-minute music video masterpiece. Because it's so short, and because of the rapid frequency of the cues I've chosen, I think beer shots are in order for this. The recommended drink is Colt 45.
Drink every time:
-A character pulls out a gun
-It is revealed that a character has cheated on a significant other
-R. Kelly sings in falsetto
-R. Kelly vocalizes a sound effect (ie click, or woo-woo-woo)
-R. Kelly 'bleeps' himself
-R. Kelly attempts rhyming by repeating the same word at the end of several phrases
-R. Kelly delivers a rhyme so imperfect it's funny ('Barretta' with 'dresser' is my personal favourite)
-Extremely shitting greenscreening is used
If anyone has seen it and could suggest any other possible drinking cues, help me out.
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| 20 - 22 = - 2 |
[06 Dec 2005|05:49pm] |
The People Vs. Tim Clarke
Part II
Went to court today to defend myself in the parking ticket charge.
Got dressed up in my blue pinstripe threepiece suit (courtesy of Unkie Wayne). Wore a light blue shirt, as I heard that light blue evokes innocence (advice courtesy of Megan's mom). My trial was set for 10 AM. Megan came with me for support, and possibly to be a witness if I needed one.
I didn't get to argue my points. I didn't get to make a dramatic, romantic stand in the face of the Man.
But I didn't have to pay the 20 dollar ticket.
The guy working under the judge, I'm not sure what his title was, said, "In leiu of all the unnecessary paperwork I've had to do in the last two days, I motion that all parking infraction charges today be withdrawn to save time."
They called my dad's name (because that's who the ticket was issued to, being his car and all) and I walked up to a big microphone at the stand. The judge said, "Good morning."
"Good morning, your honour."
The judge read my Case Number, and then said that the charges are now withdrawn.
And then we left. It was all really anticlimactic... I was honestly hoping to a dramatic standoff between me and the judge. When I called my mom afterwards that's how I made it out to be, but when I told her that I ended up slamming a book against the stand and screaming, "you can't handle the truth", she realized I was maybe embellishing the truth a lot.
The ticket that I was defending was worth a mere 20 dollars, but on principal I could not allow myself to pay for it, even though it cost me 22 dollars to get a roundtrip Greyhound discounted student ticket from Toronto to Guelph and back. So I guess it's really a moral victory, and a monetary loss. But accounting that if I'd lost, there would be an additional 12 dollars in fees added to my fine, then I guess it's sort of like I'm still up 10 bucks on them. I think I'll buy myself a Coke.
I would like to thank everyone for all the moral support given to me during this time of difficulty, and announce proudly that I have cracked the fuckin' code.
I HAVE BEATEN THE BASTARDS OF CITY HALL.
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[04 Dec 2005|11:34pm] |
I was on the 29 Dufferin bus last night (or early this morning, depending on how you look at it), at around 2 AM. I was drunk, with Megan, who was also drunk. And this guy was getting onto the bus, and he was also drunk, I suppose, and for some reason he thought it would be a good idea/funny to literally slam the bus driver in the face with his wallet (probably flashing his Metropass). The driver told him, "You can't behave that way, get off this bus" but he sat down and laughed instead. So this one guy that was on the bus with us, said, "I've been working for 10 hours, and I want to go home, get off the fucking bus".
And then the wallet-slapping guy continued to laugh, so the 'I've-been-working-10-hours-guy' got up, grabbed the guy by his jacket, picked him up, and physically threw him off the bus. It was probably the coolest thing I've ever seen.
Immeditely afterwards, I commented to Megan: 'that is definitely going in my livejournal'.
She challenged me, saying that I always say that, and I haven't updated in several months.
So here we are.
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timmerbo's journal