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Showing posts from November, 2009

So, I don't have rabies after all.

About two weeks ago, I was strolling past a grocery store, content at having found a sweet doll to send to my best friend's new daughter -- when I was bitten by a dog. An English bull terrier. You know, a Spuds Mackenzie dog from the 80s beer commercials? I was walking towards it, thinking what an odd looking head these dogs have, and how people think they are so violent, but this one looks sweet. (ha ha, right?) It was tied to a post outside the store and as I walked past, it jumped up like it was greeting me. No growl, no bark. Just up on its hind legs, pawing in the air with its front legs like it wants a head scratch or other affection. So I stepped closer to pet it -- and CHOMP! It dropped down and went straight for my shin! Bit right through my jeans into my flesh. Thing is, when I backed away, it again just sat there calmly. It wasn't being aggressive. It wasn't straining at its leash. It obviously was just stressed and scared about being tied up with all

Photographic Proof

Me and the lovely Ms. Underhill. No, I don't have her permission to post this. I have chosen to interpret the Producers' request to only post pictures for which I've received permission to pertain solely to the photos and videos which may be compromising to the celebrity... ...which is why this picture is so narrow: Celebrities in compromising positions have been cropped out. (I think I'm singing. I think.)

So that's the way it goes, eh?

"I learned the truth at seventeen, that love was meant for beauty queens. And high school girls with clear-skinned smiles, who married young and then retired..." So Stephane and Marie-France were not to be. Although perhaps we did have them one week longer than we would otherwise have had them. That's something. I really enjoyed watching the finale. I haven't ever been one to watch shows like this, actually. Not a fan of any of the [Insert Nationality] Idol[s], So You Think You Can Dance [What Makes You Think I Care One Way or The Other] or Dancing with the Stars [I've Usually Never Heard Of]. I don't think I would have watched this show had I not been involved with it. But that's the way it goes. It's been picked up for a second season, and let me tell you, even if I'm not working on it again (although I'd like to be), I will be watching it now. If only to see if Stephane and Marie-France will return for a guest episode. Now the fun part -- th

Yay.

Okay, so now Richer/Dubreuil

Sure, for some Simpson/Sale may seem like the safe choice. Too safe. It's too easy. They're pretty. They're smooth. They're flexible. Yawn. I find I'm kind of liking how Richer and Lemieux are doing. They still look like hockey players, except now they're hockey players who are figure skating. So I'm going to throw my hat behind Richer/Dubreuil. (and my hat in front of Domi as he skates by) And it's starting to get physical in the stands. We've been asked to clear out the arena after the show each night so that the Gardens can be shut down as soon as possible. This is complicated by the skaters who want to be accessible to their fans, and sometimes will linger at ice's edge gathering crowds like a rolling snowball. So we just have to wait it out, try to keep the fanball from growing, and disperse them as soon as we are able. Two weeks ago, one guy was bound and determined to roam the arena to pick it clean of any famous personnel he could flush o