Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame

Today it was announced that R.E.M. are among a list of artists (including Patti Smith, The Stooges and Van Halen) that are nominated to be inducted into the Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame next March. It would be really cool to see them at the ceremony performing onstage with Iggy and Patti Smith. I just hope that Van HALEN would perform.... not Van HAGGAR. Not that being inducted validates an artist's work. But it would still be nice to see them amongst other worthy inductees like U2, Springsteen, The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Rolling Stones and The Beatles.

Football and cars and chicks f'n rule!!!!!!! Give'r!!!!!!

I think I made my least masculine purchase ever today when I poked my head into Walmart (Yes, I hate Walmart but I was in a hurry) to purchase some black makeup for my halloween costume and some white panty hose for April's costume. Yup... makeup and pantyhose. Somebody, please get me a beer or something. Fark.

Actually, on second thought, that would be my second least masculine purchase ever. About four years ago I entered the annual Waskimo Red Dress Run with my friend Sandra so I had to go to Value Village to by a red dress. Yes, I got some funny looks. Although after checking out some pics of my cousin George on his myspace dressed up as a woman for Halloween, I've got nothin' on him.

The New Pornographers

Last night April, Mark, Tessa and I checked out the indie rock supergroup The New Pornographers at The Distrikt. Besides having arguably the best name for a band ever, they put on a great show of hook-filled, pop-rock tunes. Even without Neko Case in the lineup, the band put on a fun, energetic show. I especially liked how they insulted the guy who requested "Freebird." Their drummer, Kurt Dahle (formerly of Age of Electric and Limblifter) was the most entertaining to watch. He reminded me of Animal from the Muppets with his crazy hair and manic, spastic movements. Definitely money well spent. Sadly, The Distrikt was only about half full. People wonder why so many great bands pass over Regina in favour of Saskatoon. Maybe if people actually showed up to some shows here we might get some more good bands stopping in on their tours.

creative writing

I've really enjoyed my creative writing class so far. It's been a lot of work, but some of the writing exercises have been fun. A couple weeks ago, our professor asked us to choose from 15 possible options to write a very short story. One of the writing prompts read: "Write a story that begins with a man throwing hundred dollar bills out of a speeding car and ends with a woman urinating in a tin bucket." So of course I had to choose that one! Here it is, in all it's um... glory?

Macsweeneys Writing Exercise…$100 Bills and a Tin of Piss

Brown bills were flying in the air. Hundred dollar bills! So of course like a mad vulture I scrambled out to the street where this crazed man was just freely tossing out handfuls upon handfuls of brown bills out the passenger window of a car that was just zipping down the street. Luckily for me there weren’t that many people on that street so I made out like a bandit. It was the easiest $2000 I ever made. I figured this had to have been a joke or something or that there had to be a hidden camera lurking around somewhere. I don’t believe in God or any sort of higher power, but sometimes I get tempted to start. I mean, I don’t pray. The closest thing I do is close my eyes sometimes and just wish I could win the lottery or something. It’s never anything to improve the world really. Just good old money. For me.

I’m an artist you see. An artiste. I hate to sound like I’m the stereotypical starving artist, but it is really feast or famine sometimes. Okay, maybe it’s more nibble or famine. So this extra money came at a great time for me. I wasn’t really ready to get a day job for a while yet. I dabble in a few things. I do some photography, a bit of painting, some writing. I’m just versatile I guess. I don’t have any visions of grandeur of writing the great Canadian novel. Some people put everything they have into their work. Good for them. I just want people to buy my shit. No more, no less. I figure if pictures of Campbell’s Soup or a picture of a crucifix in a container of piss can be considered art, then count me in. I can do that. I’ll throw a handful of paint against a canvas while in a drunken rage and I’ll call it art. It’s amazing that some of my art has sold. There was even a review of my work in the local independent paper. I found it hysterical that the writer saw how much my photographs portrayed the existential angst of living in a world of McJobs and globalization. I took a wrapper of a Big Mac, pasted it to a lamp post with a wad of gum and took a picture of it. I decided to make it black and white. Voila! Art! And I got paid for it. And now I’m another spokesperson for anti-globalization. Whatever floats your boat I guess.

I was a little late for my appointment with my model this morning, since I got preoccupied scavenging after any brown bill in sight. After I figured that I picked up every last bill, I picked up a cup of coffee and walked to my studio. Okay, it’s my apartment. But it is where I do all my work, so I call it my studio. The woman was a little nervous when I showed up. She asked me why in my add I asked for the model to drink lots of fluids an hour before the session. She thought it was a little bizarre. She said she felt like she was preparing to go to a doctor’s office for a check up or something. I told her not to worry and that it would all make sense soon enough. I made sure that she was comfortable with nude modelling. She said she’s done it a few times for various art classes. My set up was pretty simple. A white sheet for background and blue lighting. And a tin can. I made sure that I had the temperature pretty cool in my apartment because I probably only had one chance to get a good shot. I gave her a big glass of water to make sure she was ready to go. Then I gave her her money for her time and efforts. I explained to her what I wanted, so she chugged the water. We waited for a few minutes until she started to get really antsy. She was finally ready. She took off her robe, grabbed that tin can and pissed like a race horse. I got seven great shots out of it. It was a good day. Except for the cleaning up part.

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boobies

Sarah had to get a couple pictures of her boobs in, so I have to include them. By doing so, I am not condoning any ogling of her breasts. Because she's my cousin. And that's just wrong. So don't stare at them you sick pervert. Yes, keep scrolling. Keep scrolling. If you can read this, then you are probably still staring at Sarah's boobs. So quit it. She has a mind too, you know. You're still staring, aren't you? I am really ashamed of you now. Pervert.

High five!

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Dave and I always have to ham it up for the camera. Shameless mugging, I know.

pics pt. 4? I don't even know anymore...

more pics

pics pt. 2