ATTN Kmart Shoppers: There Are Jews In Aisle 12.

I saw the light today.
My entire existence rectified by one miniscule, commercially inferior movie.
The friends and I rented The Hebrew Hammer tonight, the only way to properly culminate the evening spent with fellow jews of the neighbourhood. This glorious, and oh so GLORIOUS film starred Adam Goldberg (yuhuh, Waking Life) as Mordechai Jefferson Carver a.k.a. the Hebrew Hammer, who saves Channukah from the evil Santa, Andy Dick, along with his jewish girlfriend, Esther (played by that chick from Jawbreaker). Within the first ten minutes you get to watch Santa Clause get assasinated, and the jewish rhymes that are busted are no less perfect than a yoyo with a self-retreiver. The Jewish Justice League team up with the Kwanzaa Liberation Front, which leads to superbly inserted lines such as "I'm gonna kwanzaafy yo' ass, bitch".
Without giving away too much of this magnificant movie-going experience, I will leave you with the image of an evil Andy Dick santa clause, along with his irish Tiny Tim lover, handing out bootleg copies of It's A Wonderful Life to all the little jewish kids on the streets of Manhattan.
Go watch this movie before I smother you with potato latkes and shove a menorah up your bumbum so you can't poo the potato latkes out.
No, seriously...in all seriousness (and no, that seriousness does not cancel out the seriously... I'm serious)... this movie will change your life!!! Especially if you are of the jewish species, such as myself.

Chicken a la Zen

So, sometimes I'm not always the brightest kid in the world...

Yesterday at work, I was given the duty of running down to the dollar store to get some work supplies with money from the store. You'd think I'd act a little more reliable, considering the joy that supplies shopping brings me. So I ran down to the dollar store with my co-worker Melanie, making sure to annoy the SAQ strikers on the way, and made my way down the splendid aisles of marked down products. My task was to buy holiday decorations for the store (note- they always say holiday, but what they really mean is Christmas... reminder to self- bring in dreidels and star of davids). Our shopping duties were almost complete, when the most amazing thing caught my eye. Up on the shelf with the other mugs, rested this most perfect work of art to ever grace the shelf of a dollar store. It was a white mug with the black outline of a chicken on it. Just one outline, one chicken. It had such a zen-like quality to it. The mug looked at me and said "hi, I'm chicken a la zen. Take me home". I counted the money that I was given to buy store supplies with and, while Melanie laughed at my ridiculouso, did some supply shifting to fit the mug into our budget.
Upon returning to work, I came face to face with my boss, who was eager to go through our findings. I was so enthralled by this mug and its manipulation of my mind, that it never occured to me that my boss wouldn't appreciate it in the same way that I did. It turns out that he didn't and wanted to know immediately why I felt the need to spend the store's money on a chicken mug. After quick deliberation, I decided to tell him that one pen holder at the cash would just not suffice and we most definitely needed another one to balance out the workspace. While I don't think he bought it, I think he sometimes lets me win a few rounds for fear that I will lash out irrationally.

And that is the story of how it came to be that a chicken mug found its way to the cash counter at dvd passion.

Words Make Me Giggle

sometimes I like to go to Miriam Webster online and listen to the audio pronounciations of words.

I like how they say EUPHORIA.

MONTANA ain't too shabby either.

Prophets and Messengers.

Today I thought I saw Jonathan Brandis standing on a street corner, handing out free newspapers.
Then I remembered that Jonathan Brandis killed himself last year...

Maybe he was trying to send me messages from limbo of an upcoming apocalypse...

I think I shall ponder this while watching an ode to Jonathan Brandis in the form of The Neverending Story II.

Douglas Bowman, You've Done It Again.

Gee Whiz, that Douglas Bowman sure knows how to pick those templates.

After we get married at the synagogue next to the McDonalds, we're going to go to Utah for our honeymoon so that we can laugh at all the Mormons.

Oh Douglas Bowman, be still my heart...

*thump thump* *THUD*

(I love a man who can design a good template....don't you?)

Motionless Wheel, Nothing Is Real

The world is a horrible place when you're running on 45 minutes of sleep.

This morning I woke up from an all-nighter of writing literary papers and binary case-studies. I figured that I could relax once I got to class... just sit back, relax, and disregard every little thing my professor says.
I just needed one thing. There was a book at the library that I needed to take out to complete a political science assignment. No problem right? Well then, you've never set foot in the Mcgill Library. Its six floors of mazes. I had 20 minutes to find the book and get out. A few wrong turns later, and I was hopelessly lost. So lost that I missed my first class.
After my logic class, I forced a boy in my class to help me with my assignment that is due on Wednesay. In my constant whining that took over his soul for an entire hour, I made him late to his next class.
On the train back into the West Island, my friend broke the news to me that he was returning to his homeland in January. Hit me like a pack of licorice twists. The black ones. That is not the kind of news you divulge to someone who is functioning on 45 minutes of sleep.
On my way home from the train, I thought about my grandmother's brother who is reaching the last leg of his life. He's in the hospital and its a known fact that he's going to croak at some point in the near future. Now hypothetically, if he's going to die anyways, is it so horrible that one would prefer him to die sooner than later, as to dodge certain final exams (hypothetically, remember)?
I ate five pieces of sushi and a baked potato for dinner.
I have to write a ten page paper for wednesday and I haven't even started.
Sigh.... why am I even writing this?
Stupid Julia Stiles who goes to ivy league college and studies english literature and stars in movies during her free time and manages to keep her hair nice and her warbrobe varied.
I'm out.
The End.
Bah.

A Thought:

Why is it that a woman is a Miss when she's unmarried and a Mrs. when she's married, but a man is always a Mr. regardless?

SPEEDING MOTORCYCLE

Speeding motorcycle won't you change me,
In a world of funny changes.
Speeding motorcycle won't you change me.

Speeding motorcycle of my heart
Speeding motorcycle; always changing me
Speeding motorcycle, don't you drive recklessly
Speeding motorcycle of my heart

Many girls have taken you out of a ride,
hurt you deep inside but you never slowed down.
Speeding motorcycle in my heart.
Speeding motorcycle let's speed smart.

Because we don't want to wreck but we can do a lot of tricks
We don't have to break our necks to get our kicks,
Speeding motorcycle, the road is ours.
Speeding motorcycle, let's speed some more.

Because we don't need reason and we don't need logic.
We've got feeling and we're damn proud of it,
Speeding motorcycle, there's nothing you can't do
Speeding motorcycle, I love you

-Yo La Tengo

The Injustice Of Living

Why does it always rain whenever I straighten my hair?

PIXAR PROMOTES ANIMAL CRUELTY

Last night I caught a movie with the DVDJERKS, Pat and Jenna.
The movie of the night: The Incredibles (or as the frenchies put it: Les Incroyables).
Now what is the best part about going to see a Pixar film?
Why thats easy. It's the short film that they always show before the feature presentation.

This short film started out with great potential. I was sure it was going to be my favorite one yet. It opened with sunny blue skies and animals in the wild. There was a sheep hopping and dancing along to a Woodie Guthrie-esque ditty. It was quite lovely...Until the mean humans came along in their noisy truck and grabbed the sheep. They shaved him clean and left him cold and naked and sad in the bitter cold rain. The little sheep was no longer happy and all the other animals made fun of him.

Thus enters stupid, moronic jackrabbit, hopping and singing along. He tells the sheep that it is not what is on the outside that counts, but whats on the inside. Now this could make just quite a moral fable, except that the Jackrabbit teaches the sheep to be happy with what he has, even if the mean men come around every spring and shave him.

The film ends with the sheep hopping through winter, all fluffy and proud, and then when spring comes along, he puts his foot out, allowing the men to grab him and tackle him and shave him.
Now I'm not sure what the intentions of this film are, but I'm pretty sure it send out a graphic message that torturing animals for our own pleasure is okay, because the animals will learn to be happy anyways... Or at the least bit that succumbing to abuse is a-okay, so long as you put on a happy face. Too bad I'm no longer a hippie... I'd so start a petition or something if I was.

And so we come to the moral of my story...
Never trust anyone from Montana.

SIDENOTE: The actual movie was incredible, hence the name. The teenage girl incredible was what Mary-Kate Olsen would be if Mary-Kate had super powers.

A DIALOGUE FROM A TUESDAY NIGHT

This dialogue was recorded after dinner in my household, as I was preparing to leave for a movie.

me: *running down the stairs and into the kitchen*
Who wants to prove their love to me?

mom: I can't afford to prove my love to you. I'm broke.

me: just five dollars worth of love.

dad: I thought you had a job.

me: I know, but I'm saving up to be a better person.

dad: all I have is four dollars
*deposits change in my hand*

me: thanks dad. Oh but mom, I don't want you to feel left out.

mom: don't worry. I feel fine.

me: no, really mom. It's okay. I want you to be able to reach me with your love as well.
*fumbles through her wallet in the other room, grabbing a five.
THANKS. BYE.

Exuent me with nine dollars of love

THE END

WHY I HATE TECHNOLOGY

first reason:
Today I almost got hit by a car crossing the street downtown, while trying to figure out how to use the text messaging on my phone.

For the record, it took me 10 minutes to figure out how to read a text message that was sent to my inbox, and another 25 minutes to figure out how to compose and send a reply.

I am happy to say that I am now a text messaging prodigy.
...But I still hate technology.

second reason:
They have installed new self-service cashes at most of the supermarkets in my area. Now instead of having to go through the "extruciating" activity of human interaction, you wait in line to use a machine that doesn't try to inflict conversation upon you.

Why the hell should I have to pass my own groceries through?
If I wanted to be a cashier at a grocery store, I would have applied for a job at one.
(one upside= I seem to have a gift for handling the machinery, unlike some of my unfortunate neighbours in line... But I still hate technology.)

HOW I FELL OFF THE HIPPIE BANDWAGON

I used to be a good person.
I was an avid environmentalist and humanist.
I used to recycle, I used to run fundraisers, I used to eat only organic products and free range eggs and meat. I never used to download music. I quit my job at the Gap over child labour, and I condemned the corporate hohums a.k.a. the man.

Today I eat all sorts of meats and non-organic vegetables. I forget to recycle and I bought a Gap shirt last week. I just burned three mix cds. I have emersed myself in consumerism and have learned to love the money.
(I still listen to folk music of the indie persuasion, though).

I have joined the dark side... and I love it.

Goodbye Soulseek, Hello Limewire.

I used to think I had it made with my Soulseek music downloader. I was able to find all the music I needed to fulfill my indie rock desires. I was also able to chat with others about my indie rock desires. Life was good, music was fun.

Oh how ignorance blinds us.

It all began Friday night, as my family came together to celebrate my grandmother's 85th birthday at a stuffy, not-so-lovely-but-quite-expensive french restaurant. I was complaining about how I was missing a new episode of Joan of Arcadia (I watch it for the god parts... its the closest I'll ever get to him) for such a retched meal. My cousin then suggested I download it from LimeWire.

"LimeWire you say? Will it hurt my new Dell laptop?"

"LimeWire carries no adware OR spyware, so you're as safe as Soulseek"
ENTER BRIGHT LIGHT

Is this true? It can't be? Music AND Video downloads with pretty yellow and green accents?

Now let me tell you that LimeWire and I are very happy together. This will certainly be a long and prosperous relationship.
EXUENT BRIGHT LIGHT AND I, HOLDING HANDS.

ipod, youpod, we all pod for ipod.

I have absolutely NO idea what an ipod is and what the big hooplah is about it.

maybe I should go throw myself off the consumer cliff.

Why Going To School Only Causes Me Pain:

I get to class 20 minutes late and I slide into a seat, trying not to make a scene as I attempt to peel off my layers of soaked clothing. The class: Modern Jewish Authors, although I'm starting to think that the name is just a technicality. We spend the next hour or so talking about nothing, as usual. It's now 1pm and I have no desire to wait around for my next class, which only begins at 2:30pm.

I decide to catch the 1:30pm train home instead of going to class. It's pouring rain and snow all at the same time (the "magic" of living in Canada) and I'm rapidly trying to make my way down the busy streets of Montreal to the train station as some guy stops me in the middle of this natural disaster. He's clearly an immigrant and although I am horrible with accents, I have a strong feeling that he is German. He asks for directions but once I give them to him, he doesn't go away. He compliments my hair and asks me if I want to go get some coffee. Now I'm not a fan of crummy weather and I'm also not a fan of creepy, immigrant boys.So I tell him to get lost (only I used the words "no thanks") and I continue on to the train station.

I'm sitting on the train catching up on some reading for school (Paradise Lost quiz tommorrow...god god satan god eve's so dense, adam's so noble, jesus, god, satan, satan) when these two french canadian boys take the seats next to me. They must be about 12 or 13 years old and they start playing some probably french canadian game, where they slap each other really hard and scream out french insults. I realize that studying would not be happening on this train ride so I take out my discman and turn it on, to be pleasantly surprised by the Bangles Greatest Hits blasting Walk Like an Egyptian. There is nothing better than 80s girl rock when you are drenched and in a pissy mood.

Anyways, two hours till I've got to drag my ass into work so I better go do some homework (a.k.a. watch an episode of the Gilmore Girls on my season one dvd set).

Toodles. Maybe later we can all get together for a ritual sacrifice of some sort.

Hollywood Connaisseur Extraordinaire

It's Celebrity Scoop week on Who Wants to be a Millionaire. You know what that means... I could so be a millionaire right now. All that money wasted on Star magazine was not in vain.

Some lady named Virginia take the seat. She claims to be a celebrity connaisseur extraordinaire.
We shall see...
Well, she seems to be getting all the Reese Witherspoon and Anna Nicole Smith questions, but let's see how she does with the Serena Williams question. Holy Shit, this woman watches more Access Hollywood than I do.

She's at 8000 and on a roll. She's stumped on the Marths Stewart trial question but she pulls through. This woman really does have a gift. And they're going to give her a million dollars because she's so enthralled by other people's lives. Then she'll write a book about marriage and scandal in Hollywood and make more money. She'll go from desperate housewife to a-list socialite. Lucky bitch.

Oooooh, they're bringing in the Joaquin Pheonix questions. It worked and she asks the audience. As it turns out, 67% of the audience knows that Liberty is not a name of one of Joaquin's sisters' names. Or do they? Turns out Joaquin DOES have a sister named Liberty. And hollywood extraordinaire goes home with a mere 1000.

It just goes to show that reading Star magazine is just fruitless exercise.

Exploding Blogs

I have just discovered the magic of BlogExplosion.
Wow...its like a party in my laptop and there's never a shortage of hard liquor.

anyways, to celebrate my newfound glory (not intended to be a pun on the band's name), I wrote a haiku:

what I'd say if I were married to Beck

Beck stole my Kraft cheese.

I'd get mad but he's too cute,

so he can have it.

Hugh Grant and the secret to immortality.

I forgot about the potato kanishes that I had in the oven and they got burnt.

As I was eating the burnt flaky, jewish, potato-y goodness, I discovered the secret to immortality.

The end.

p.s. I heard Colin Firth is the new Hugh Grant. How do you think Hugh Grant feels about this?

School + Cartoons = Sushi

I'm already bored of these blog things.
It was fun while it lasted, but there's not enough action.
And I don't like it how some people have those stupid popups on their blogs that do nothing but annoy people with the insane amount of mouse clicking you have to do to get rid of it.

Sorry, I'm in a bad mood this morning. I stayed up for a good portrion of the night, writing a term paper. Why do they call them term papers if they give you a thousand of them to do during the term. It's not like its the one paper of the term...It's deceiving, thats what it is...
Sharkie knows my pain, don't you?

Anyways, today I am cheating on my university and going to visit an advisor at another one to see about them maybe letting me transfer in the fall. Take that McGill, with your high MacLean ratings and your pretentious lit teachers!!

Alright, I'm outta here. I'm gonna go eat some early morning supermarket sushi. Then I'm gonna go watch cartoons and remind myself that there are only four weeks left in this bloody semester.

p.s. I was so bored with the blog, that I started another one. It's the chronicles of my job.
http://dvdpassionstaff.blogspot.com check it out. maybe. yes. bye.

O.B. Wan Kenobi

I felt something weird in my sock as I was writing a lit paper, so I took off my sock.
I found a tampon wrapper in it.

don't you hate it when that happens?

Here's To You, Douglas Bowman.

Well ladies and gentlemen,

We have reached a milestone of epic proportions. I have left my duties at bingovirtue.com to jump on the blog bandwagon. When first faced with the suggestion of starting a blog by one of my fans, I laughed at the thought of spending my time at a place that was called a blog. I mean, what are the origins of such a word? I get the LOG part, but what about the B? When I think of blog, I think of blah and then I think of verbal diarrhea (did anybody else get that from their own word association game?). Then a friend of mine commented to me about her 500 hits and high blog ratings and my competitive nature kicked in. I was suddenly hit with the need to beat her out. What can I say... It must be my instinctive urge to prove that people like me best.

When asked to pick a template, I was disappointed by the selection and wished for something with a little more pizazz. Maybe a duck hanging from a rooftop or something. But then I decided that one of the pre-selected templates would suffice, so long as it was designed by Douglas Bowman. I only picked this template because Douglas Bowman designed it and now everytime I log into my blog, I will think about how one day me and Douglas Bowman will meet at a Duran Duran concert and then we'll get married in the synagogue next to the run down McDonalds and then I'll forever be Mrs. Stephanie Bowman. With a name like that, I'll have no problem getting an ultra exclusive membership to an ultra exclusive golf club. Then I can be one of those bourgoie women who dress in golf suits and buy expensive golf clubs, but never make it past the club's bar. Oh Douglas Bowman, you little rascal...

So in case you would like to know what you are getting yourself into by pledging your loyalty to my blog, here's a little background on me. I'm a jewish, canadian university student who would rather spend her time creating blogs than opening to her schoolbooks. I work at a movie store and when I'm not buying discounted DVDs, I'm buying CDs at regular price. I was once an avid recycler but then I gave up on humanity when the photocopiers at school were unable to photocopy doublesided.

Well thats it for today... Keep those chins up and don't forget to suck up to a dwarf this week. One day they will rule the world, as Ben Folds predicted once, and you'll be sorry you didn't.

-Dr. Ajax