Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor

Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.

12 Reasons Today is a Good Day


in Heartwarming

1. One of my best friends in the world and his lovely lady had two healthy, baby twin boys this morning at 5:30. Susan and Matt – I love you, send pictures, I vote for “Owen”.

2. I made amends with an important person whom I was a fool to ever fall out with, and it feels terrific.

3. I just raked the lawn in a t-shirt.

4. Last night Boston kicked sweet hell out of Montreal. I entered my friend’s house wearing one of my Bruins t-shirts and was told at the door “You’re going to get your ass kicked wearing that in here.” To which I responded, “What the hell are this group of bumpkins going to do, bite my ankles?”

5. Today was the first time I stopped to pick up my mail and there wasn’t a single sympathy card.

6. I joined the Portland Historical Society and presented my website ideas to some of the board members Friday – which were received extremely enthusiastically. Yesterday one of them, an 82-year-old man named John, came over to the house to drop off photos of the 1985 sea plane crash he was in for me to scan. He rescued his son and another man and then had his house destroyed by a tornado 4 days later. You can’t make this shit up. Why is that a good thing? I just love living here and am meeting lots of amazing people.

7. Last night the same group of aforementioned bumpkins came over to my house after the game and the new basement has officially been christened by a proper Pye Party.

8. I just burned Hotel for Dogs, which Griffin assures me is an awesome movie, and I’m actually really excited to watch it tonight because there’s a Boston Terrier in a lead role.

9. I’m getting an iPhone tomorrow, because Rogers isn’t going to carry the Storm (jerks), and I always nerd out dramatically over new toys.

10. This time next week I’ll have over 400 satellite channels. That’s all I can say on that particular matter.

11. A guy I’ve only met twice at the bar looked up my number, called and asked me to join his Wednesday night beer league softball team. I have until Wednesday to give him an answer, but I already know it’s going to be a resounding “yes”. In a show of perfect timing, I was batting tennis balls for the dogs to chase a few days ago and I nailed one all the way over my neighbor’s hedge – so my confidence level is high.

12. I’m about to go burn scrap wood and trash . I simply loves me some fire.

This all begs the question – what the hell is happening to me? It took a while for the whole loss of Bonnie and Gord thing to properly sink in, but now I feel like some sort of switch has been flipped in my head. I feel thirty-five for the first time – and it’s OK. That’s right – My name is Dave, and I’m thirty-five.

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Here Comes the Gravy


in Appalling

Couldn’t have been happier with this news today. Go frig yourself, you arrogant son of a bitch. And much respect to Jian Ghomeshi for his calm handling of the situation. For the interview in question please see the video…

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Friday’s Quizzlet: Live and in Technicolor


in Friday's Quizzlet

Last week’s user-submitted quizzlet was a lot of fun, no? Shall we do it again? I’m about to send out Facebook and Twitter requests for questions and I will add to this post as they come in. Please leave your questions in the blog comments. Update: Sweet Jesus. Stop before I end up on a government list.

Appetizer: If you could berate a pro sports athlete at a match, etc. who would it be? – Gary P.

I’ve never been a fan of his, but after last Saturday’s Bruins vs. Islanders match – “The Pest”, Sean Avery. Click the link if you’ve yet to see him thwap the back of Bruins’ goalie Tim Thomas’ head with his stick starting a donnybrook which hardly helped New York’s situation. There is hockey goonery, which I fully encourage, and then there’s hockey douchebaggery. I’d like to take a Gatorade bucket and dump it over his head. In the middle of a rink after a game that would be awfully chilly! Not to mention it would be filled with carbolic acid.

Soup: How are you and Spud getting along now that you’ve inherited him? – Anneliese R.

Surprisingly well, thank you. You were here the day he bit my face and scarred the frig out of it two summers ago. Whether I deserved it or not, there are two types of cats: ones that bite to wound and ones that bite to warn. Spud is of a third type which bites to maim. Anyhew, not only are we getting along but he sleeps in my bed, follows me around the house, sits with me, purrs constantly – it’s amazing. I guess he knows where his mouse is buttered now.

Salad: How many dogs can one man own? – Kent H.

Three. I didn’t even have to think about it. There are several factors to consider in regards to how many canines one household can sustain, but only one of them is worth discussing – it’s what I like to call the “creature to lawn landmine threshold ratio”. It looks something like this:

Number of dogs x 2 poops each a day / lawn acreage = C.L.L.R.

Currently I’m maxxed out. I have my stainless steel dustpan on a pole, my little doo-doo rake and I’m constantly hovering over the grass looking for dead soldiers as it is. If another dog were to be added to the mix I’d be buried in a mountain of recycled Eukanuba by Labor Day.

nero-eric-bana

Main Course: Thanks to a relatively new area of science called String Theory, physicists and cosmologists are on the cusp of unifying Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity (the theory of the very big) with quantum theory (the theory of the very small). If their calculations prove true, it will mean that our universe sits within a sea of parallel universes that existed long before The Big Bang. Could you give me your take on the implications of parallel universes and pre-Big Bang physics? What does this stuff mean for mankind? – Mark B.

My head just started throbbing. The answer to your questions, however, are obvious. The implications of a parallel universe were well documented in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and I’m not going to jump through hoops for you and rehash it all here. What does it mean for mankind? Well – we’re fucked, basically. Especially after Nero warps in on May 8th.

Dessert: If you had to cut off one of your fingers from each hand, which ones would you pick? – Staci D.

You can’t live without your thumb. Watch the Pope of Greenwich Village for more detail on that point. Your index finger enables you to pick your nose, point and poke. The middle finger – enough said. And the pinkie is just way too adorable. Reminds me of my mother telling me nursery rhymes about pigs. The third finger, however, doesn’t even have a nickname. So lop those suckers off on both hands. If for no other reason than I can look like I’m throwing the goat, 24/7.

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Introducing Pixie Pye!


in Animalistic

Back in February, when Mom was particularly bad, Shep’s breeder graciously offered to take care of him for a few days. When I returned to pick him up Megan mentioned to me that Pixie, who was Shepherd 1.0‘s mother, had to have an emergency spay after her most recent litter was delivered and as a result would be put up for adoption should I be interested. I had always adored Pixie – she was the first Boston Terrier I ever really met in my life – so the wheels started turning.

A bit of background – you may recall that the first litter Janet and I were supposed to get our puppies from, parented by Pixie and Oscar, died of the equivalent of canine SIDS. The impending existence of an “accidental” litter became apparent to the breeder a few days later, parented by Cricket and Oscar this time, and Megan called to let me know Janet and I would have first choice of those puplets when the time came. Hence we went on to become fanatical Boston Terrier people. Just call me Rose McGowan.

The bottom line is that Shep is an incredible pain in the butt when the two of us are up here alone and his sister is with my sister in Boston. He sits beside my office chair and whines all darn day. When Rhuby is here, however, they keep each other amused to no end. This was the basis on which I made the decision to adopt Pixie last week – and I picked her up Monday night right after I got back from Beantown. The breeder told me that she was “elated” that I wanted the dog because three other families she interviewed with didn’t work out. Whether the people sucked, or I’ve just adopted Satan spawn, remains to be seen.

IMG 0849
“What did you just say about my new brother?”

She’s small for a Boston Terrier with a muscular little frame that shoots around the house at breakneck speeds. She’s not too fond of the cats as of yet and frequently corners them before barking in their faces until I come and drag her away. She snores like a sailor and makes little grunting sounds constantly which may cause some to mistake her for a pot-bellied pig – but I assure you it’s beyond cute. Snoring will begin literally 20 seconds after she puts her head down, so let me change my previous comparison to “drunken” sailor.

Two days before I picked her up she was in a scrap with another of the breeder’s dogs, “Dancey” who managed to tear a big hunk out of her left brow. I’ve been doing my best to keep it clean and closed which is why you’ll see a band aid in some of her pictures. I am now of the opinion that Crazy Glue should be a feature of every first aid kit.

So far so good. I love the little monster, and the fact that she’s named after my favorite band made the decision that much easier. Destiny turned on the Terrier, perhaps. Stay tuned for more silly puppy photos and videos featuring my new muse – Pixie Pye! Click for the full gallery.

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Help Get Stan Rogers a Star on Canada’s Walk of Fame


in Canadiana, Musical

stan-rogers-songwriterIf you don’t know who Stan Rogers was, that’s OK – he’s been dead since 1983 (went back to pull other passengers out of a burning plane even after he himself had escaped) and never permeated the American mass music market the way many other Canadian bands have. And by “Canadian bands” I of course mean the Bare Naked Ladies. If you’d like to learn more about this remarkable musician please visit the Wadio post I did on Stan Rogers a year and a half ago.

There’s currently a petition to have Rogers awarded a posthumous star on Canada’s Walk of Fame – and I think that’s a damn good idea. I’ve loved his saltwater-soaked sea tales since my father first played them for me as a child. In fact, modern bands like the Decemberists must surely count him as an influence.

Barrett’s Privateers – You have to watch this!

They need at least 5,000 signatures by noon eastern time on April 30th and currently have less than 2,000, apparently. The person leading the Stan Rogers charge, and who created the Facebook group I belong to wrote me only this morning. A for effort, my friend:

“Please sign so that when I meet with the Walk’s selection committee on April 30th I can show Stan Rogers was truly admired.”

It’s really hard to believe this is even in contention or being discussed. The man is a national treasure and definitely should have been in line for a star before Brendan Fraser (2006) or Celine Dion (1999). I signed the petition a few months ago and it takes seconds. If you’re a Stan fan then please take 2 minutes today and add your name to the petition. For the love of Trebek.

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