Prolific Immigrant

I don’t have the words to express anything…but…maybe that if she enjoyed herself so much, they should have left her there.

Happy “recreating”, Dumba**.

I pulled the attachments; sorry the second was a little wonky – I seem to have trouble posting attachments. If I can figure it out, I will repost…as for the girl, simply youTube Connie Talbot and listen to her – she has the voice of a little angel. I cried both times…x

Updated to add: Please make certain to read the comments to this entry. Thanks.

Walking along Bloor on Saturday, I was approached by two young men, one of whom stopped in front of me and asked: “How are you today, ma’am.”
I turned to look behind me in search of “ma’am”, only to discover she was I.

“I’m well thanks. How are you?”
“I’m very good. If you have a moment, I’d like to tell you how The Book of Mormon brought me closer to Jesus Christ…”
“Actually. I’d love to hear about that – and then I’ll share with you how The Quran brought me closer to Jesus Christ. Oh! We can share and compare. It’ll be fun.”
…blank stare, then: “Well, okay, you have a good day ma’am”, and off trotted the two little Mormon boys in their black suits and black back-packs, so I sincerely asked “you don’t want to share?”, to which the other Mormon boy responded with “Is there anything else we can do for you today, ma’am?” as they continued on their way.
“No. I guess not. But maybe you could stop calling me ma’am…?”
“Good-bye, lady.”
“Good-bye, young Mormon. Muslims love Jesus…”

Please feel free to consider me your own personal amuse-bouche.

Next you’re in Toronto, take the time to eat at the following places:

(1) The Roxton > local neighbourhood joint that turns into a pub later at night. Get there by 7 or else you’re not sitting your a** down for dinner. Try their grilled chicken sandwish with caramelized onions, brie cheese & special garlic sauce. Call to ask if they’re serving it before you go as they regularly toggle their menu items.

(2) The Golden Turtle (Ossington) > go there just for the vegetarian spring rolls. You won’t taste anything like these anywhere else. Cash only and the tables are extremely close to one another and the lighting is very bright…consider yourself warned.

(3) The Drake > they’ll rock the sh*t out of your brunch. Rec the Eggs Caleb (poached, on ebglish muffin, soaked with hollandaise sauce and served with bbq fries). The Drake is among the ‘see and be seen’ joints in Toronto; if you’re like me and find this obnoxious, note the following secret: the main dining room is for people who want that attention BUT the little cafe on the left, as soon as you enter The Drake itself, runs out of the same kitchen and has the same brunch menu. Go there to chill, then run before the famewh*res start arriving.

Enjoy…

(P.S. Pardon the spelling errors, am doing this from bberry without spell check.)

I am on the softest and thickest bed buried beneath and inside of warm white sheets.

Three walls are pale orange. One wall is a window. There is only one dresser of old dark wood, whose shared and kept the secrets of many more than I can imagine.

It’s grey outside and pouring. Rain’s fingerdrops are playing music on my window.

I’ve found a little pocket of heaven inside of Toronto, it seems.

I hope your weekend is as lovely as mine…x

I couldn’t have written it better myself. Please read this brilliant piece on the series that is Twilight.

If your daughters are reading these books and watching these movies, make sure to take the time to (1) read them first yourself so that you understand how ‘relationships’ are being packaged for these young women; and, (2) have the decency (stemming from your obligation and duty as a parent, you useless moron) to sit down and teach your daughters that the Twilight brand of ‘romance’ and ‘love’ are in fact abusive relationships in which the young female protagonist cedes control, isolates herself from her family and friends, is obsessive // dealing with a stalking-obsessive other, and is expected to give up everything (while he: nothing).

Remember to also mention the RAPE and the aspects of PEDOPHILIA prevalent within.

(Mamas, pay attention: After having sex for the first time, the female character wakes up bruised and battered and incapable of remembering the night or the sex. This is not healthy sexual intercourse (and if it is for you, then you need help), but rather it is what one might call date rape via roofies.)

I hate these books. I hate that our daughters are being taught this is proper love. I don’t care that you, of sophisticated and thinking adult mind, are capable of deciphering and peeling the layers of grotesque that make up the Twilight series. It’s the young women. The Twi-Hards, the 10 – 20 somethings (yeah, you’re still a child at 20. Deal with it.) who are reading these books and romanticising the insidious messages within.

For those of you with young boys who are reading these books and watching these movies, then you too have a moral obligation to teach them that this brand of love and romance is unacceptable. That if they behave in this manner, they are (simply put): abusive and dangerous di*ks.

God, I hate Twilight.

(P.S. Since posting this bit, I decided to skim the entire series, so as to ensure I wasn’t talking out of my ass & out of line about something I hadn’t completely investigated. I stand by my initial visceral and violent reaction.)

Note 1: This is not about those who Twitter interesting comments and observations (e.g. Fiery, Lisa, or any of the people following me who I was once able to see), but rather the freaks who tell you they’ve just come out of the bathroom and are heading out to McCrack’s for a McCrack w cheese but only after they call their ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend a crackwh*re with a fat a*s.

Note 2: Obviously, I won’t be twittering, though I have kept my twitter page because I think that little brown square with the blue eyes representing me is all kinds of adorable.

It’s a little unbelievable how lax people are about their privacy, no?

Why so public?
Why the need for so much instant attention from others?
Is this a form of famewh*ring?
Why are people okay with making themselves so accessible?
Has privacy in North America lost its flavour?
(Do I care that you broke up with your boyfriend? In 140 characters or less, my answer is: No.
So why am I still reading your Twitter page? Because your willingness to share so much of nothing is both fascinating and grotesque to me.)

This cartoon, courtesy of Michelle (thank you!), says it all:

“Twitter-ebrity”. Fkn genius considering how much our society trades on the currency of fame. Sad, too.

I am curious as to what Twitter says about our society; about how we interact today and how this will shape tomorrow – if at all. Also, I am really honest-to-God curious to hear your thoughts, so I’m encouraging you to either comment or send me an email about these things. Ask Qs of your own, too, please….

Note 3: The above Qs may appear to be entirely lame when coming from a girl who writes entries and posts them on-line, but trust me when I tell you the following things: (1) This place is a caricature of my life and truly is my life in crayon; and, (2) It is, first and foremost, an exercise in writing, always has been and will always be (this is why I have a problem with the term ‘blogger’…I’m a writer, not a blogger. The blog is merely the medium, yo.).

Am I being too harsh?
Is Twittering the new medium to exercise one’s writing skills?
Twitter: Friend or foe? (What do you think is going to become of our communication skills?)
Are we moving away from the short story, the epic novel, the trilogy to…the Twitter?

140 characters today.
Sign language tomorrow?
Is Twitter the secret fantasy of The Artist Formerly Known As Prince come to life as technology heaven?

Please…honestly…someone give me something to help me wrap my mind around this new technology. I am gripped by this Twitter frenzy.

Also, I am gripped by some funny dude named Tom Oatmeal (whom I wish to watch silently as he Twypes. Because I’m creepy like that. Was that 140 characters?).

I am not of the belief that there can ever be such a thing as a ‘moral army’. I feel nothing but sorrow for the State of Israel – because although the death toll they amass against the Palestinians continues to rise, they’re going to need national therapy to get over the idea that’s pushed by their political and religious perverts: that they are forever victims, threatened by all, only safe in the State of Israel.

Forget that grouping all individuals following the Jewish faith in to one small area of the world is really nothing short of drawing a bull’s-eye on them.

Many of my dearest friends, Jewish, are fighting this on a personal level, refusing to be victims, refusing to inherit this legacy, refusing to make the State of Israel the only place they can feel safe and protected. It is a daily struggle for them, a personal battle against their families and their community and one I watch with only the greatest admiration and respect.

(Yes: I lump fundamentalist Muslims and fundamentalist Christians into the same category. Also any fundamentalist who tries to force the idea of reincarnation on me, anarchy on me, communism on me, confusing the lines of politics and theology, discourse and ideology, fear and power.)

“The soldiers’ testimonies also reportedly told of an unusually high intervention by military and non-military rabbis, who circulated pamphlets describing the war in religious terminology.

“All the articles had one clear message,” one soldier said. “We are the people of Israel, we arrived in the country almost by miracle, now we need to fight to uproot the gentiles who interfere with re-conquering the Holy Land.”

“Many soldiers’ feelings were that this was a war of religion,” he added.”

Read the complete article here.

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“October 16, 2008 saw two coordinated actions against leading weapons factories in two different cities located in central Sweden. Equipped with hammers and bolt cutters, activists gained access to the manufacturing halls where they found and disarmed weapons used in the American-led war on Iraq and warfare material destined for India.”

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“Hi, you’ve reached Cleo, Dane, Nora May & Trent. We can’t take your call right now, so please leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.”

“Hey Cleo. It’s Maha. I just got your email – I was out of town this weekend, but I’m home all week and would love to come by on Thursday night. I’ll pick something up on the way over and we can watch Grey’s…”

click

“Ello?”

“Hello Trenty.”

“ELLO.”

“How are you?”

“I GOO.”

“Good! Me, too. What are you doing?”

“I PLAYEEN.”

“How fun! Are you enjoying having mommy around over the holidays?”

“YEA.”

click

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hi Nora May. It’s Maha.”

“Oh. Hi Maha.”

“Hi honey. How are you?”

“I’m good. We’re playing.”

“That’s great. Is mommy around?”

“She’s taken a shower. Please leave a message.”

“Should I call back?”

“No, Maha. Please leave a message.” (With the clear inflection that she thinks I must be a little slow in the head to ask such a foolish question.)

“Uhm. With you?”

“Yes please.”

“Ok. Will you please tell her I called and that I will see her on Thursday.”

“Yes, okay. Goodbye.”

click

Kids amaze me.
I wish adults were as honest as them.