We're Headed Up My Mom's Ass!

I descended the stairs into the lobby that smells distinctly like my mother, but my mom is quite obviously not here. I'm on a date, not a family reunion. I wince, rub my palms against my legs, and immediately want to leave.

It takes me thirty seconds more than it should to find her, so I'm obviously already unimpressed. I realized I shouldn't be and being mad is obviously completely unjustified, but I pick it up, try it on, and decide to go home with it anyway. 'No need to bag this one Mr. Clerk!'

She runs over to make eye contact with me, running on the tips of her shoes. 'Those are shoes with some give' I think to myself. Being taken with the her footwear and footwork almost is enough to dull my unnecessary dissatisfaction. She spins around in a circle, it's sort of like the pirouette that you'd expect to see in a grade school production. It ends with a beautiful little curtsy, it would have received applause.

'C'mon you little weirdo, let's go...'

Barry Bonds

Remember when I used to be dope? Yeah!
I owned a pocketful of fame...
But look what you're doin' now!
I know, well I know
I lost touch with reality, now my personality
Is an unwanted commodity, believe it!
Can't believe I used to be Mr Steve Austin on the mic
Six million ways I used to run it
I guess Oscar Goldman got mad
Cos I got loose circuits
I be the Mother Goose with the eggs
That seem to be
Fallin'...

You played yourself

So Barry Bonds, on the verge of being the best baseball player of the modern era (read : ever) admits to unwittingly using steroids and thereby puts in doubt anything he's ever accomplished.

Most people are having a hard time buying the whole 'whoops, I used this magic cream and surprisingly I string together one of the greatest statistical seasons ever at the age of 40' defense. You see, noone really likes Barry Bonds. He's not Smilin' Sammy Sosa, he's not whitebread Mark McGwire, he's not Saturday Night Live hosting Derek Jeter. Plain and simple people think he's probably the biggest jerk in baseball. Not even his teammates like him.

Some sports writers seem particularly validated that Bonds is finally proven to be a cheater. Yes, sure he's not the kindest of sports personalities, especially when it comes to his dealings with the media but it's kind of fucked up the way articles about him are written. It's obvious that such venom fuels them. Maybe he deserves it, maybe that's Bonds' legacy. Rotten as it is.

Also today some country somewhere decided that Democracy is a-ok, sort of, and Steve Streatch apologized for suggesting that Nova Scotia was for Nova Scotians (obviously he's a Morrissey fan). It's quite clear to me that Streatch apologized only after he read my email to him :

I was just curious what sort of values do immigrants not value,
that Nova Scotians seem to hold in such high esteem?
I'm so very puzzled.

All this time I thought that people were arbitraily born in a certain country, but apparently that's not the case.
From your remarks it would seem that people are born in a certain country because they all share the same
values. I had no idea that values were an innate element to humans, so that all the people who value hard work
live in one part of the world and all the people who value sloth live in another part of the world.
What a great and simplistic way to deal with other people.

In all seriousness, given the current state of economic affairs in the
Maritimes, not just Nova Scotia and Halifax,
your comments on Nov 30th are particularly unnecessary.
Not only are they disrespectful, implicitly deriding
the contribution immigrants have made to this province,
but they're incredibly short sighted and hurtful to the
growth of Nova Scotia not just economically
but culturally.

Thanks

his email is streats@halifax.ca

Cape Breton's on the pills, but not in the way you'd think.