Once you get over the weirdness of it,

it's really funny.

http://www.danradcliffe.com/news/fullnews.php?id=1545

There's something about seeing Harry Potter being a slimy git hitting on older women that just cracks me up. Again, keep in mind that this is British humour and it's not for kids, but there's something really hilarious about watching Dan Radcliffe spoof himself. He's just so painfully awkward--you know, actually it reminds me (albeit vaguely) of the Ricky Gervais character on the Office.

I like this kid because he plays Harry Potter, appears to be a decent kid with his head together, and is growing up awfully cute in a geeky way. However, as much as I like this kid (and I do) I never really thought he was a particularly good actor before-I wanted to think he was a good actor, just on principle, but well, the reality is what it is.

Or so I thought.

It has since occurred to me that he might be aware of how stilted his acting has been in the past after watching him mock his bad acting from Harry Potter on the show. I guess it's a good thing that he's had the chance to get other acting gigs besides the HP series. You can see it, how he switches from the "film acting" and then turns into a complete and utter berk "offscreen". It is awesome. Har har.

It really works, too!

Finally, my beloved El Bill came by to visit and bless my new apartment with liquor and barbecue. We couldn't eat our way through the chicken and the whole hawg, courtesy of Bar-B-Barn, but we sure tried. The ribs in particular, were the worst hit. Man, did I ever sleep well that night. I think it was the ribs. But it might have been easing down every tasty, greasy, biteful with yum-yum-yummy Graham's six grapes porto. (I have since learned that all port is made with more than six grapes, and the "six grapes" thing is just a name. Thanks, Bill.)

And..."Thanks, Ribs!"

My pick of the day...

Har! Har! Har! I revel in my immaturity.

Housewarming Update

It has been brought to my attention that the day I proposed for a housewarming party is a stupid one. October the 8th is Thanksgiving weekend. My family will be looking for me on that day.
So we'll do it same place, sime time the following Sunday, on the 15th. Y'all know how to reach me if you're coming.

Also:

Eileen turned me on to these Kooky Korean girls doing Karaoke, and I must tell you, it's fan-flippin-tabulous.

Check it out.

Craptacular.

Birthday Clown

So, I had an interesting afternoon today, doing a theatre games workshop for a 10th birthday party.

The mother of former student of mine (who I always thought was wonderful and could be a star if she wanted to, she's that good) called me last week and asked me to give a theatre class for her daughter and twenty of her closest friends.

I loved teaching her daughter, Grace. And trust me, the name fits the girl perfectly. This sweet, soft-spoken British-Persian girl with an angel face and the manners of a lady. Sharp girl, very disciplined, quite mature for her age. Anyhoo.

She had a dress-up birthday party and all of her friends dressed up as their favourite characters from the movies. I saw an Elle Woods, Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth, Zorro, D'Artagnan. But Grace had it locked down as Sandy from Grease. But not the sweet Sandy from the beginning of the film. She was the hoochified Sandy complete with off the shoulder top, capris and high heels. And not only did she manage to not look trashy, she can walk in her heels better than I can.

Kids really are older than they used to be.

The workshop was fun, they were a lovely group of girls, and even if things got shrieky at times and it sometimes took awhile for things to settle down, I mean come on, they're ten years old. They were all very polite, and loads of fun. Grace's five year-old brother ("Just Jack" is how he introduced himself to me--how could you not love a kid like that?) participated in the class too, and all the girls were so kind to him and never made him feel like he was slowing things down (well, actually, he didn't, he's freaky smart like a prodigy).

The workshop was a resounding success (YOU try keeping twenty-odd 10-year old girls entertained for two hours) and although things ran a little longer than I expected, it was all good. I keep saying that I don't like kids, but somehow I just keep on managing to like them in spite of myself (seriously) and to have a blast with them.

It might be something like the relationship that my dad has with cats. He's cranky and pretends not to like them, but they see through him and love him anyway, and when no one's looking, he feeds them tuna. Anyhoo.

Just before I gave the parents my invoice for services rendered, Grace's grandfather comes rushing up to me and clutches my bicep to congratulate me on a job well done. Okay, sure, his hand brushed the side of my breast, but I figure hey, accidents happen, like the time Lianne goosed that girl who came to visit her.
However, it was SO not an accident when he put his hand on my butt ten seconds later.

At first, I wished I had a sock full of chalk so I could smack him on the head and say:

"I don't think so! Homey don't play dat."

Then I thought that I would not be a credit to the race for getting dragged into a police cruiser in the middle of Westmount because I gave an elderly man an open-handed smack in the mouth.

Apparently, my body really is too bootylicious for ya, Babe. I wonder: maybe if there was less of it, he wouldn't have had such an easy target. Did he think that just because I have more than my fair share of backy, I wouldn't notice if he grabbed the extra?

I was ready to bounce out the door, and forget about the check, but Grace's mom offered me a glass of wine and a piece of birthday cake, and I thought it was rude to refuse (and Hell-O! She offered me VINO), so I spent the remaining ten minutes eating my birthday cake and sipping a glass of white wine with my back to the wall. Grace's parents gave me a bit of a funny look, but then again, I guess I looked strange navigating the swarms of little girls with my backside resolutely plastered against the walls or moving from seat to seat like a musical chairs game.

Finally, enough time passed that I could politely excuse myself from the party, and said goodbye to all the girls, who were all quite sweet and blew kisses and gave me big hugs. Grace, ever the lady, came up to me, thanked me for the workshop and told me I did a lovely job. The hostess with the mostest. And once I put on my coat and grabbed my purse to go, Grace's dad came up to me, shook my hand, and pressed a folded check into it, with a fervent thank you.

And as I walked out the door, singing to myself:

"Homey the clown,
Don't mess around,
Even though the Man,
Try to keep him down,
One day Homey will,
Break all the chains,
Then he'll fly away,
But until that day,
Homey don't play."

And I stepped out just in time to see a rainbow. And all was forgiven. Grabby Grandpa shrunk from a specter of dirty old manhood down to a harmless horndog in a matter of seconds. When you think about it, it was such a clichéd situation anyway that I just had to laugh.

And then I open my check and saw that they had paid me an extra fifty dollars.

I'm not sure whether that's their way of rewarding me for a job well done, for apologizing for their grandpa: David Cop-a-feel, or if they're just purchasing my silence.

Well whatever it is, it's translating to a much-deserved cocktail for yours truly tonight.

Cheers!

(Incidentally, I just noticed there's a Homey the Clown, Advice Columnist blog. Thought I'd go check it out. Mind you, if you know Homey D. Clown, you know he's not for kids. Visit at your own risk.)

You know it's true, too.

Y'all know how much I love Despair.com and the Demotivators.
Well, now you can make your very own posters, and I just had to offer up the one that resonates with me the most. (Seeing as these days there's a little more bounce to the ounce.)
Which ones would you come up with?

Oh, and I've decided...

That I'm having my Housewarming Party on Sunday, October the 8th, at 3pm.
Y'all know how to reach me. RSVP and I'll give you the directions and whatnot.

I was going to wait until I'd finished decorating and painting and all, but I figured, if I just get on with it, I can get decorating advice and liquor and your company all at once. How can it possibly get better than that?

If you can't make it that day, let me know. I'll invite you to my Collective Hosing Party. (All you non-Canadians, get your minds outta the gutter, because we are gonna park ourselves on the

SOFA OF DOOM!!!!!

and the nefarious

ARMCHAIR OF DISASTER!!!!!

and eat and drink and blather on...or not, if we decide to watch DVDs or play video games. Just basically be lazy as a group. Bacon pizzas are optional.) Date TBA.

Call me y'all or email me or something. Or not.

I have spoken.

This reminds me...

of when my husband and I broke up.
God bless all you loverly people who fed me and offered me booze when I was sad.

Mind you, just because I'm not sad lately doesn't mean you can't feed me and give me booze. If you feel like spoiling me, well refusing you would just be plain rude.

I'm just sayin...

(erm, visit Scary Go Round. Please don't sue me, John Allison.)

Oh so sleepy...

I don't know how I'm going to log in a full day today at BTW, after doing seven hours at the gym this morning. Kiddos, I have my doubts about this job, and it's not just about the schedule. But I'll tell you more about it when (if) I manage to get alert again .

Kisses!

P.S. Incidentally, Matt Damon losing his mind on Jimmy Kimmel Live is perhaps one the the best pulled off pranks in the business. When you stop feeling embarassed about it and realize it's a joke, it gets super funnny. In fact, I think I might just like Matt Damon more today as a result of it.

Like when I left for work this morning...

Yes, I'm a little lazy about posting any meaningful content lately. Hm, maybe my next demotivator will be about laziness.

And the word for the day is...

I am almost ashamed to admit how long it took me to leave my house today. But I'm living it up while I still can, relishing the time when I'll be able to look back and say, "Before I started working at 6 am..."

(On the other hand, I finally took the time to give myself a pedicure and my feet are really soft. So it's not like this morning was a total loss.)

This is why I wear weaves, people....

I have sound clips...

...I just haven't figured out yet how to post them in such a way that you can listen to them. I finally have recordings of me singing in casinos (I'm warning you now: although I'm utterly ridiculous, I'm the only one allowed to mock me about it). Does anyone know how to post mp3 audio files to the net? Perhaps I can figure out a way to make a link, but I don't want to pay for it.

Anyhow, I'm almost settled into my apartment. I mean, basically everything's unpacked and there are just a few more purchases to make it so that it looks like a woman in her thirties rather than a college student lives there.

Yes indeedy, soon we will have housewarming hijinks! No gifts necessary please, just bring yourselves, music, food and drink (or any combination of the above but most importantly the yourselves part) and we'll chill or get silly, depending on our mood. Quite frankly, I owe my karaoke-singing neighbours a rousing chorus of just...something. Anything.

And if you're the stubborn type who will insist on getting something because you're a shopaholic, please think along the lines of air fresheners.
Plug-Ins, candles, sprays...it's all good. I like spicy, warm amber, herbal, citrus or vanilla-y type smells. Floral and fruityness is just nasty. Think about it.

Not that I'm filthy or funky. It just so happens that one of the minor drawbacks of where I live is that I can smell my neighbours' cooking. Don't get me wrong, I love Asian cuisine. It just smells stank when it's cooking. Deep frying, onion, and fish paste smells waking you up first thing in the morning, wafting into your shower, or just popping up at all kinds of random moments in several rooms at once do not inspire neighbourly feeling.

Trust me.

Oh, I've also got a new job. I'm going to work part-time at the gym.
Free membership: ha-HA!
Starting work at six in the morning: WAH-haahhhhh.....

I'm alive...

...just busy.

And ridiculously broke. How in the heck does this keep happening?
Oh yeah, I spend all of my money before my next paycheck.
Right.

Up, Up and Awayyyyy...

Wow y'all.

Do you know Mrs. Miller? She's this woman in the sixties who was somewhat classically trained and had gotten a recording contract to sing contemporary tunes in her style.

The problem is, she's really bad at it (the poor thing), and the whole recording contract was something of a practical joke. But she was quite successful for a time.

My favourite song of hers is her rendition of "Girl from Ipanema" but it's hard to find if you don't have the album. Her scat midway though is...it's...well, no one does it like her, is all I'll say.

You can find "Up, Up and Away" on LimeWire which is bloody brilliant!

But just for giggles, take a listen to Downtown. Just. Wow.
No, seriously.

"Wouldn't you like to ride in my beeyoootiful balloooooon...."

If you want to hear her massacre the Beatles, check out this site.

Home again, home again...

Yee-HAW! I'm in my new apartment!

We were moving yesterday for 14 hours. We were four people sharing a truck and never more than nine people schlepping stuff at a time , but we got it done! It was nice to reconnect with people I haven't hung out with in awhile. There was a lot of pizza and beer that day. I will be content to not eat pizza again for many months, I think. As for the beer, I make no promises.

Over the course of the next week, I'll be cleaning up the apartment and unpacking because right now it looks CRAZY in there. I can't stand living in chaos.

Also, I can't wait to have a housewarming and to have you all come to visit! two weeks from now, for sure!
It's funny, now that I finally have my privacy and solitude, I'm much more willing to invite people to come into it and visit.

I love you and kiss you ALL, *m'wah! m'wah!*