Ute 'R' Us

Ute 'R' Us is what I'd call my base of operation if I were a gynecologist, but I'm not, so someone else can have the name. I've been thinking about this because in a little more than a week my girlfriend will be going under the knife for some relatively minor surgery on her woman parts.

As a sensitive partner I'll be making the trip out west to be by her side......not during the operation or painful convalescence but three weeks later when she is all better and the area in question could use some intensive conditioning and physiotherapy.

As always, surgery, (including surgery "down there") presents certain risks but also certain opportunities. Now let me just say at the outset that my GF has excellent muscle tone, you don't win Kegel Queen at the Millarville County Fair 6 years running without it!! Still though, with a stitch here and a stitch there a skilled surgeon can work wonders and with that in mind I mailed off a crisp new 20 dollar bill to her Ob-gyn, Dr. Ersek, with a little note that said simply: "Surprise me!!"

As a general primer on the subject you may want to take a look at this educational clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c39sirXOad4

and then revisit this must see video for further insight: http://oxygen.feedroom.com/?fr_chl=1e2039ffe65a8155cf73b19ad333d4a7b2457076

Super Hero Fever (yes, we need another hero)

It's just about summer and once again Hollywood is trotting out the super hero themed blockbusters. We've already had Ironman and The Hulk and there will certainly be others coming down the chute.
The film trailer above is from a movie I saw on TV as a child. I don't remember it much except that the Mexican super hero, Santo, was called upon to battle vampire women who were led by a mysterious immortal with the worst case of eczema ever!!
I saw another Santo film earlier this year while working in Colombia and there, in my hotel room, I had a revelation and at once understood the whole super hero phenomenon. (Santo=Saint...hello-ooo!!)
Think about it...worldwide we spend billions of dollars a year on these fictional characters and it's basically the same story being told over and over again. Good vs. evil, the world in peril or just plain folk victimized by the greedy and treacherous saved in the end by a mysterious being, at once of this world yet possessing supernatural powers, knowable and familiar yet unknowable all the same. Did somebody say Jesus?? (the old testament God was too much of a vindictive asshole, sort of a bizarro Jesus, so I can't include him in this analogy.)
It's hardwired in us, this need for justice in the face of a frequently oppressive and grossly unfair existence. Whether at places of worship or in cinemas, in front of a television or a comic book, we seek to have our wrongs redressed even if it's some kind of vicarious catharsis. The fact that we are willing to shell out so much money got me to thinkin'....maybe I can cash in on this too, come up with my own popular super hero and retire in style!!


Here's the back story for volume#1:


Craig Garner's parent's were killed by terrorists on 9-11. He's presently an Ivy League grad student assisting his physics professor, the eccentric but brilliant Dr. Ladislaw Bronislavski, on a top secret pentagon project. After a jargon laden monologue detailing the experiment (treating mice with irradiated mega-hormones and a new drug that causes cells to vibrate at a frequency invisible to the human eye.) Bronislavski exits the lab leaving young Craig to close up. He ends up accidentally falling into a vat of this toxic soup and dies, a victim of drowning and radiation poisoning. He is buried soon after but the chemicals begin to take their effect...his whole body was affected inside and out except for a small area between his buttocks (which were clenched at the time of the fall) that was never touched by the liquid, indeed, in his comatose state the chemicals never worked their way entirely through his digestive tract. He is now alive, larger, stronger, and completely invisible save for his anus!!

You get the picture....bye bye Craig Garner, hello Anus Boy!!!! (OK , OK...so this is my 1st attempt. I think I got the formula right but the central character may need a litle retooling).


On a related topic, I posted a cleavgey picture of the young soprano Maria Callous a couple of days back and within 48 hours my daily readership more than doubled!! (I kid you not) It's sort of disheartening to think that the whole, massive internet industrial complex is being driven by pathetic men world wide, trolling for tits (guilty as charged). With that in mind this final super hero pic is sure to keep my new enlarged fan base from shrinking back to it's pre-Maria size.

Worst Movie Ever!!

Move over "Sex and the City", step to the back of the bus "Love Actually". I've just discovered the worst movie ever made and this includes all of the films created by the legendary Ed Woods.

Imagine a big budget, desert themed flop like "Ishtar" only without the "A list" stars...not Beatty and Hoffman but a wannabe thespian hack and his euphonium (that's right, a euphonium!!).

A down on his luck musician gets stranded in Syria after the cruise ship he was playing on goes bankrupt. One mishap with some self-tanning cream and a few bizarre plot devices later and our hapless hero is leading a revolt against the British occupying forces. The woefully out of place comedic/homo-erotic interlude with a camel boy was supposedly insisted upon by the leading man himself and the catchphrase: "I say lad, will that be one hump or two??" gained some currency among the bath house set.

Now out on DVD, this is not only a movie to avoid, this is a movie to burn, urinate on, and bury.

(Ed. note: On further review it appears that "Sex in the City" is actually far worse than "Mike of Arabia". Our apologies for the earlier inaccuracy.)

Bow WOW!!....A "Blob" Stage Presence Primer

Maria Callous, frequent contributor and Blob muse, has been in negotiations with me for the past several weeks about today's post. Let's go back to the beginning though.

As a music educator it has long occured to me that the youth of today are largely unschooled in the art of the stage bow. They stare awkwardly at the audience, legs splayed, arms adangle, with a timorous body language that displays no small amount of insecurity.
Imagine my surprise then at the end of Maria's vocal recital when she capped a wonderful performance with one of the finest closing bows I've ever seen. Legs together but not clenched, bent deeply at the waist, hands clasped reverently, staring at her shoe tops for a count of three. We, the audience, were treated to a double dose of confidence that afternoon.
I snapped a photo of this moment using her mother's camera but then complications arose. The soprano world is highly competitive and Maria wasn't about to send me the photo and let me post one of her stage secrets....hence the negotiations

Dearest Maria,

Attached is a picture of young Timothy McNulty, aged 9, who hails from Oshawa, (Ontario, Canada). Timothy suffers from spina bifida and as such can't bend at the waist without experiencing severe pain. To make matters worse he has encountered complications and Timmy and his family have been informed that he may only have weeks or even days to live.
This brave little boy you see trying to bow at his school's Easter pageant (where, dressed as a banana, he participated in the "The Fruits of Jesus' Bounty" tableau) is, like you, a big fan of The Blob, and I've been contacted on his behalf by the Make A Wish Foundation. This is where you come in.
Timothy's wish is to make an appearance in The Blob and I have made the editorial decision (as discussed with and agreed upon with the board at the M.A.W. Foundation) to do an educational posting about proper stage bowing technique so that other performing children may benefit. I know that you have in your possession a photograph of an exemplary bow. I know because I took the picture at your semi-recital, snatching the camera from your Mother when I realized that I was in the rare presence of perfect bowing technique.
If you'd be so kind as to email me this picture then I can post it in tandem with young Timothy's before he passes and a dying boy's wish will have come true.
I know that your tough exterior is but a facade and that you are in fact kindhearted and benevolent. Those supposed friends who say that you are a cold-assed bitch are dead wrong. Maybe it's time to put the lie to this assertion once and for all. Send the picture Maria...if not for me than for Timothy McNulty. You'll be glad you did.
thank you sincerely,
The Blob



And so, Maria coughed up the photo early this morning in a wordless email (whose subject was "Re: fuck you") while under the influence of a heart warmed by too much alcohol. I'd like to publicly thank her, for by showing such ample generosity she has made a little boy's wish come true (and that sick kid is probably happy too, I guess).

It's Official: The Blob Endorses Obama!!!

These are golden days for even the casual observer of all things political involving our neighbour to the South. I had endorsed Ms. Clinton at an earlier date because I felt that she was the bigger underdog (trust me...it was a sound argument which I will not rehash here!). With Barack Obama winning the nomination last night it can finally be said that the better man has won and now it's on to the general election. The violently prejudiced sector of the American populace has been strangely silent thus far, perhaps waiting patiently to see whether their energies would need to be expended on sexism or racism and racism it will be....unless of course Hilary gets the nod as vice-presidential candidate in which case it'll be open season on everybody!!

What has pundits and bloggers alike scratching their heads is Hilary's far from magnanimous speech where she barely mentioned the impressive Obama's historical accomplishment (compare this to his effusive praise of her some minutes later in his Minnesota speech) and her somewhat divisive refusal to concede defeat and rally the party together after a long and testy struggle.

If there was any doubt about the equality of the sexes I'd say it's about time we put it to rest. Women can be just as stupid as men and that includes smart women doing inexplicably dumb things and dumb women overextending themselves by trying to be smart. This usually ends up in some sort of tragi-comedic disaster. Clinton's blunder is just the latest but here are a couple of clips to further illustrate my point:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrZQ0gEr4Mc&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aN9bqYhNLDs&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L577cWLDH5c&feature=related

The last one with Tyra Banks has an added laugh track (and somehow it works better with the laughs) but the real version, accompanied by silence, was deadly serious and infinitely more awful.

Like men, these women, more often than not, try to redeem their missteps but unlike men they now have their very own awards night courtesy of Oprah Winfrey. This years gala from L.A.'s Dorothy Chandler pavillion was a star-studded affair where all sorts of women were lauded, from untalented flash-in-the-pans to the talented but self-righteous.

That's Some Funny Shit!!

The Blob has inadvertently taken a bit of a scatological turn of late, both on the main page and in the comment section. It wasn't my intention to continue in this vein, rich with lowly comedic ore as it is, but my tracking monitor indicates that hits coming from the former republic of East Germany are way up!! (those Germans sure love their poop jokes!!).
Once again I leave the task to the brilliant Larry David who along with his pal Richard Lewis have formed a latter day and very foul-mouthed TV comedy team to rival even the famed Abbott and Costello. Enjoy the clip and remember guys, unlike women who must always wipe away from the genitalia, we have the God given freedom to wipe in any old direction we please....ahh God, ahhhh freedom!!

(sheisse ist lustig, ja??!!)

TV Notes:

The passing this week of composer Alexander Courage (Star Trek theme -Blob list apr.7, 2008) raises a couple of interesting points:

• Courage had little use for the science fiction genre refering to it as "marvelous malarkey" and yet he penned one of the great sci-fi themes of all time, at once swashbuckling, sexy, intrepid, and futuristic. This only goes to show that a fat paycheck is inspiration enough to a skilled professional.



• His death also points out how far we are from realizing the dreams that Star Trek offered to us. One can only wonder what Courage's dying thoughts were as the NASA space shuttle astronauts had to rig up a back-up bag-like collection system in order to urinate as another mission raced to the rescue with a replacement part for their malfunctioning space loo. He scarcely could have imagined, years earlier, that the signature phrase : To boldly go where no man has gone before" would come to mean peeing into a bag-like collection system while orbiting the earth in a tin can-like space station.

At any rate th(Sorry for the interruption, Troy Huber here by means of a simple hack that maybe about .05 of Blob fans could even begin to comprehend. Blob is obviously forgetting about episode 28, season 2 of the original (and only) Star Trek entitled "The Arcturis Conundrum" where a mysterious force wreaks havoc on all of the Enterprise's life support systems including the waste disposal units. So much for not being able to predict the future. Remember this priceless snippet of dialogue?

Kirk: Scottie, the waste units are still malfunctioning. That Dilothian marsh hog we had for dinner is acting up, we'll have to make a pit stop at the nearest planetoid...give me warp speed 8!

Scottie: But Captain, the engines will never be able to handle warp 8!!! I don't want to be responsible for blowing up the Enterprise. Ye canna just hold it in a wee bit longer??

Kirk: It's either blow up the ship or blow up my colon......your call Lt. Scott.

Scottie: Warp speed 8 it is Cap'n!!

Priceless!!! This is Troy Huber, over and out.)e composer left his mark as did my next subject, Earle Hagen.

Hagen too died this past week leaving behind a rich legacy of television and film music. The former trombonist (who began as a baritone/euphonium player)worked with the Dorsey and Goodman big bands before teaming up with producer Sheldon Leonard to write for TV.

He wrote the Andy Griffith theme and that's him whistling as well, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E59YyrvCzj4&feature=related probably the most famous whistled tune in our popular culture! Mod Squad, Dick Van Dyke, I Spy, Gomer Pyle etc. are just a few of his best known theme songs. The aforementioned should have all been on the Apr. 7th list and I apologize for their omission.

Also gone but not forgotten is the illustrious comic actor Harvey Korman....here are some examples of this master of comedic timing and delivery:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-e7GB6i5vc&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SoM-ZC7uNnc&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEGuVb-mtf0&feature=related (this 3rd one is mostly him cracking up during an onslaught by Tim Conway...one of Korman's trademarks) and at this point may I share with you the blogger's prayer:

Dearest God I write this blog

and do so in thy name.

Thou givest me material

by smiting men of fame.

Amen

Daily Double

PARTYBEAR Writes (In reaction to the attention paid to the bountiful Julie Couillard):

Blobeleh,

Please get on the most important story of the last two weeks: my new crush, Larissa Kelly's seven-day streak on Jeopardy.

MIKEXXSTER's reply:

Television, or"TV", as the great unwashed mass of mouth-breathers calls it, is not worth a tinker's cuss compared to even one pair of Magnificent Mams!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????????Unless this Larissa Kelly of yours has some sweet, sweet Sweater Puppies goin' on, you are one sick, sick Party Bear!!!

Now, now, gentlemen. We can all get along. Larissa, who's impressive streak just ended, is the real deal!! I want to keep all Blobophiles happy and with that in mind spent quite a while researching this topic and combing the internet for just the right photo of the brainy miss Kelly.

You can put down your sabres and pick up your tankards for once again there is joy in Blobville:

Please...don't go. Don't even think about it!!

Sex and the City: the Movie is opening today and predictably the Hollywood hype machine has been in overdrive for some time now. I've purposefully avoided looking at any reviews so that I make a pristine prediction; it will suck!! The film will however garner a few good comments where apologetic critics will say things like "If you were a big fan of the TV series you'll love it", "I was surprisingly moved by the honesty", "The non-stop parade of fashion was a feast for the eyes" etc.

Logic dictates that the show was terrible and the movie will follow suit. The show was inane, poorly written, and horribly acted but it did allow regular women to fantasize that when they gossiped with their girlfriends at some dime-a-dozen coffee shop, they were as coolly pathetic as the female fab four. It also lowered the bar on discourse and allowed womanly raunch talk to be acceptable in public; the lusty Samantha could talk openly about swallowing sperm or something and the demure Charlotte would cringe and change the subject to provide the proper balance. Some guys even enjoyed eavesdropping on good looking babes talking dirty like I do when I'm alone at Second Cup pretending to read the paper.

Where two women sharing their feelings and discussing sex over a cocktail, dressed to the nines at a chic watering hole, is fun, four of them is a veritable gang bang!!

If I knew more about pornography, (which I don't) I'd go on to give any number of parallels between this show and more X-rated fare but since most of The Blob readership are connoisseurs of the genre they can adeptly fill in the blanks themselves.

This show and now the movie, like steamy romance novels or soap operas, is little more than porn for women and that's OK. Most guys however don't get too turned on by haute couture (unless it's "Fashion File" or "Nipples on Parade" as I like to call it) and appreciate talk as long as it's followed by action. e.g.

• "Miss Jorgensen your tax return is done."
• "But I forgot my wallet Mr. Harden, can I pay you some other way??"
• (cue rhythm guitar) "I'm sure we can work something out."

I just hope you ladies who insist on going, allow your man (if you have one) to stay home and that you let him rent whatever he wants, Anal Accountant vol.17 comes highly recommended. Excellent dialogue, fabulous locations, and the pants, shoes, and neckties are to die for!!

Hey Maxime...Don't let the "bedbugs" bite!!

Of late Canadian political scandals have failed to capture the public's imagination and have been of little interest internationally. Obscure tales of patronage, misspent funds, and old, powerful men doing shady things with tax dollars have been the rule but now the exception, a sex scandal, appears to have legs (and really, really, nice boobs as well).

Foreign affairs minister Maxime Bernier resigned today hours after his ex-girlfriend, Julie Couillard (herself, the former moll for a couple of characters with ties to the Hell's Angels) revealed that Max had mistakenly left some sensitive government files in her bedroom.

She claims among other things, that CSIS (Canada's CIA) found evidence of bugging devices in her boxspring, that she has been humiliated as a woman, but that she was not a mole for organized crime.

With any luck this thing will drag on as the drooling press has a field day and we will be blessed when Mlle. Couillard accepts a generous offer from Playboy to disrobe in print and maybe even on video (gentlemen, cross your fingers!!).

And so a square jawed, Quebecois political golden boy (and Easter Island statue look alike) will take the heat for a while and then re-emerge quietly with some cushy corporate job away from the prying eyes of the press and public. Maybe he and Julie will reunite and if not...Julie, you can get my number from Michaelle Jean...we'll talk.

The bottom line is that this is only a scandal because of Bernier's old, brief, 2nd hand organized crime links (non-existent really), his errant handling of some gov't files (and honestly...this is Canada. What of any importance could have been revealed? The location of the next Khandahar Tim Horton's ??) but mostly because Julie Couillard is a hot babe with big, fabulous, tits. What could be more fun than bringing down a good looking, successful, guy who's scoring with a beautiful, younger woman.....probably nothing. Well, almost nothing (really Julie, I'm a great listener, call me).

Easing into Year III

The posts have been pretty sporadic recently and I suppose as a good Canadian I should apologize, but I won't. Sure I could spew out a dozen excuses, each valid and believable to a certain extent, but I won't do that either.

I've simply been procrastinating. There...I said it!

The industrious bastard half of me that's American has been lulled to sleep by the kindhearted yet slothful Canadian half and The Blob may be in serious trouble. We haven't even reached the hazy, lazy days of summer yet and already I'm in the doldrums.

Why only yesterday when I should have been writing I spent several hours at a new store that caters to the legions of sedentary people just like me. It was quite heavenly actually; the latest in video gaming tech gear, all manner of audio/visual gadgetry, aisle upon aisle of processed, heat'n'serve food, sofas, mattresses, bedding, a small robot (like a roomba) to help locate and retrieve the TV remote control (finally, God has answered one of my prayers!!), books on tape, shoes with no laces, clip-on ties in the latest styles, golf equipment....a veritable paradise for the man who wants to do not too much.

I liked the store so much that I spoke to the manager and they're now a sponsor. Take a look at the ad and then take a cab on over to see the real thing for yourself!

Just in Under the Wire - HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLOB!!!!

Today, May the twenty first in the year two thousand and eight, marks the second anniversary of The Blob. Happy Birthday wishes have been pouring in from across the globe to commemorate this auspicious occasion. Here's an example from the office of her royal highness, thr hottest cup of whipped mochachino in politics, Michaelle Jean, governor general of the great and sovereign (sort of) nation of Canada:

Dearest Blob,

On behalf of the government of Canada and her majesty Elizabeth II, queen of England, I wish to offer my congratulations on this May 21st, 2008, the 2nd birthday of your blog.

Over these last 2 years we have followed the progress of The Blob with amusement, glee, shame, and even lawyers. As your readership grows and you attract people from all corners of the world it goes without saying that you act as an ambassador for our great nation, spreading sexual innuendo, scientific disinformation, and euphonium based humour (my personal favorite) with a Canadian slant.

I still remember that weekend 3 years ago when our passion got the best of us. Little did I know then that I would go on to become a leading federalist pol and you would become a shining light in the firmament that is the blogosphere.

While we've gone our seperate ways, (and I can understand why the daily challenge of amusing your 10's of readers would keep you from answering any of my calls or emails) I'd just like to remind you that the door to my orifice is always open.

You needn't worry about Sarkozy and his Gallic suavity. It's all a facade as was made clear when he insisted that I supply both the condoms and the Cialis. At least you, my dear man, had the gallantry to spring for both!!

In closing may I just say again Happy Birthday and may your success continue for many years. You've made Canada and Canadians very proud or at least somewhat less unproud.

love,

Michy

Apocalypse Soon

Not to be to alarmist here at The Blob (where I try to keep the tone as light and gay as U.S. figure skating champ Scotty Hamilton) but I've been noticing that things have seemed to be spiralling downwards at a frightening rate. This is on a global level mind you and not just relegated to my house any more.

The major ills that plague us; food shortages, bizarre weather patterns, shattered economies etc. have as their root cause the oil industry and our pathetic dependance on its poisonous mother's milk.

In North America at least, our soft, cushy lifestyle is being rendered obsolete as we awake from a consumerist dream into a realist's nightmare... "Uh ohhh, we can't make this work anymore. Let's move back to the city, sell the car, eat less and stop buying stuff we don't really need!!"

Even if enough people start to think along these lines there may still be no stopping the advent of a hellish way of life seen in the cult classic Soylent Green (which, I believe, is people), now only a decade or so away. (think hordes of homeless, sickly, immigrants clamoring for sustenance, being carted away in people mover/garbage trucks only to be secretly turned into food). The choice is now ours....either change our ways or party like there's no tomorrow till the end of days, (my place: tuesday 8:30!!!)

Of course the fact that the petroleum cartels are raking in mind boggling profits is bad for their PR as is global warming and the consequent rise in the price of flour, rice, corn, soy and eventually everything else.

To pacify the masses the price of our toys (50" plasma HDTV's, cameras and other high tech gadgets) has been plummeting but this is no longer working so oil company big wigs have trotted out another campaign designed to influence the younger generation who they fear may shun them in favor of a more earth-friendly lifestyle.

Says EXXON spokeswoman Nabillah Haddad-Fisk: "Marrying people's dependancy on the oil industry to the Hip Hop craze is an idea whose time has come. Both are world wide, pan-cultural phenomena that cut across class lines and are heavily wedded to a materialistic world view. We needed an outreach to tomorrow's consumer so we found ourselves a rapper to spread our message....people need petroleum and we need people...it's as simple as that!!"

A few days ago regular contributor Dixxx asked me who my favorite rapper was. I listened to the new Mobil Oil sponsored CD and have to admit that the heady mix of rhythm, rhyme, and laissez-faire economics puts this new guy at the top of my list. I strongly urge you to give it a listen. Time to go gas up the van, check out a sale on GPS systems/pocket organizers and put a downpayment on next weeks cereal rations for the kids.

POST #400 (woohoo!!!!!)

This is my 400th post and while it's far from what you're used to it's the best I can do at the moment. My GF Phyllis flew in this morning, (I spent much of the week putting off housecleaning) big show tomorrow with the soon to be internationally famous Griffon Brass Band and well...The Blob has had to take a back seat. I promise that the next post will be better (promise!)

Whatever the excuse I know nobody really cares. They just want tits, ass, and the occasional euphonium joke and many pray daily for Jewish porn (you know who you are Ahmed, Hosni, Tarik etc.)

Hey Sarkozy; Get your Brie covered hands off of her!!!

PARIS - Gov. Gen. Michaelle Jean charmed French media and even had President Nicolas Sarkozy swooning during a visit to France. Jean was officially there to take part in celebrations marking Quebec City's 400th anniversary.
But the French press soon became enamoured with Canada's "charming," "beautiful" and "intelligent" Governor General.
One leading newspaper went so far as to dub her an "elegant mix of Lady Diana and Nelson Mandela."

Dearest Michaelle,

This was bound to happen sooner or later ,what with all your travels and all, and I'm referring of course to an FL (foreign leader) falling in love with you just as you once did with me on that infamous weekend some 3 years ago when our passion and lust got the best of us and you forced yourself upon me (listen to me ramble on like an exciteable schoolgirl!).

I've been spurning your advances since then in order to devote myself entirely to writing The Blob but seeing you in the clutches of that slimeball Sarkozy, (described in these pages as " a smarmy mix of Napoleon, Jean-Paul Belmondo, and an old, well-worn loafer") has stirred old feelings and quite frankly has me pining for you and rethinking our relationship, or at least the few jagged shards which remain after I broke your heart.

I know that I never answered any of the dozens of emails you sent but if it's any consolation I saved them all and spent last night reading them again and again.

I see that you had a private session with Segolene Royale. You and she are the only 2 FLILF's left on my list after the untimely departure of Benazir and Hilary's descent into shrill desperation. The idea of the 2 of you together, discussing foreign policy, stocking clad knees accidentally touching as you sit facing each other in two well upholstered leather chairs, me delivering a pizza and....well, you know the rest. Suffice to say I barely slept last night.

Michaelle I was wrong. I state this publicly, filled with regret but without shame, and I ask you to take me back. Yes, I have a girlfriend, and yes, she is coming to visit in a few days but if you are planning a trip to Montreal I can arrange to free myself up for a few hours so we can rekindle the dying embers that still burn in our hearts (blowing usually does the trick if I remember correctly from scout camp).

The Weak in Review

Once again I leave for a week (internet problems and procrastination beyond my control) and all hell breaks loose. It's more than likely that there's absolutely no correlation but there remains, nevertheless, a small chance that my absence was the root cause of much that went wrong internationally over the past few days.

I call this the directed chaos theory. Unlike the original chaos theory that famously postulated that a butterfly flapping its wings in China could lead to a tornado in Iowa my theory holds that me, neglecting my blog, can cause a devastating flood in Myanmar, political missteps by Hilary Clinton, corruption in the Israeli government, and a butterfly in China to flap its wings.

Israeli prime minister Ehud Olmert is accused of taking a bribe from some American Jewish businessman and now I'm supposed to convince everyone that there's no Zionist banking conspiracy (geez!!). There's no conspiracy people....we just control global mass media and that's it!!! and most of New York.

Hilary vows to fight her losing battle till the bitter end as the infighting democrats invent yet another way to lose a "sure-win" election. (and I usually enjoy the smell of female desperation)

Myanmar's paranoid and isolated military rulers (Heartless is the lonely Junta) deprive millions of aid because of fear of foreigners (and frankly, who can blame them, I mean really?? The country is already massively overpopulated and if losing a few thousand expendable souls means keeping out dozens of bearded, besandal-ed do gooders then I say " go for it!")

I know, I know....all this news stuff is boring. I think Fox News may have found the answer. Before I hit the sack check out some of these anchor babes; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVUDQNMzL4w&feature=related and if that's not enough watch these Germans playing charades http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVUDQNMzL4w&feature=related. Gute nacht.

Up and Running

The good news is that my internet connection is off the fritz (I really shouldn't have to explain that) so as soon as I have a few moments to spare I'll kickstart The Blob and we'll have at it once again. While I wait for the creative sap to start running again you can amuse yourselves by checking out this website. It's a fairly clever, racist, 21st century take on the yuppie bashing phenomena of the Reagan era and it appears to be fairly popular to boot. Thousands of people log on to this site every day but I'm in no way jealous.
I prefer to toil anonymously and for my small coterie of friends and the legions of Syrians, Saudis, and Iranians who come looking for Jewish porn and stay for the laughs. Oh yeah...here's the site:http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/
I know I should post something of substance but I just got back from playing hockey, put the finishing touches on a Mother's day carrot cake (there's surely an icing joke in there somewhere but I can't be bothered) and now will let Conan O'Brien lull me to sleep....perchance to think of something to write here one of these days.

A Groundhog has Gnawed my Cable

The Blob wishes to apologize for a lull in posting. There appears to be a problem with my internet connection, most likely due to the voracious and careless groundhog who owns my house. The Bell Sympatico technicians have been advised and are thinking about getting around to investigating the problem as we speak!
This is a remote post from an educational institution where I work so I must be brief (and pure of heart). Uh oh....the security guard is coming, gotta run.....

There's Something About Milkmaids

Almost every occupation has been fetishized or at least served as fantasy fodder for both men and women. Indeed many jobs have become staples in sexual role playing i.e. The cowboy and the school marm, nurse and doctor (or patient), delivery boy (usually mildly retarded) and bored housewife, actuary and investment banker.....OK, maybe not that one but still, you get the point.

This is a facet of human behaviour that goes back centuries or more. Indeed the photo at left (courtesy of the Louvre-Antiquities; Egyptology Dept.- Role Play wing) details an amorous coupling between Nimanhotep and Nefertiti III, with their attendants in tow, as they precede coitus with an elaborate foreplay ritual where they pretend to be an irate customer and a fishmonger. (it's all there in black and white folks, and besides, most fish markets I know of are veritable brothels, especially when the fresh hake comes in!)

One of the all time classics is the milkmaid who, in tandem with the plowman, was a staple of erotica and bawdy song as far back as the 1800's. Here's a brief example:

"As Nell sat underneath her cow, Upon a cock of hay, Brisk John was coming from the plough, And chanc'd to pass that way: Like lightning to the maid he flew, And by the hand he squeez'd her; Pray John, she cry'd, be quiet do, And frown'd because he teaz'd her" etc.

As men we're all familiar with teachers, nurses, nuns, librarians and the like but the milkmaid holds special sway even though none of us have ever seen one. What then is the power of this archetype? I'm no Freudian (and I killed the last guy who said I was....just happened to be my Dad) but the whole mommy/breast feeding thing is in there somewhere as is the suggestive image of the knowing hand on the cows teat. More importantly we have a woman at one with nature, at once innocent yet knowing in the ways of animal husbandry who, if she's willing to mess around with a cow's nether regions, will probably do anything you want without flinching.

The reality is that milkmaids probably smell like cow, have sore backs, and are often exhausted but hey...don't let me rain on your parade.

The milkmaid has made her way into all manner of cultural forms of expression, from literature to erotic film, from ceramics to fine art (see vermeer).

Just look at these lovely Delft salt and pepper shakers I got at an antique fair a while back. For some reason the craftsman forgot the holes. A weird error yes but sure to increase the value. My girlfriend took a shine to the darn things and I haven't seen them since! (strangely enough I haven't seen her either)

While I'm giving examples here's yet another, this time from the pulp fiction genre of the 1950's:

This has been another in "The Blob" Sexual Archetypes Educational Outreach series

What Does Mayday Mean to You?

It's May 1st and traditionally workers across the globe gather in large throngs with placards, yelling about this or that and are featured for about 5 seconds on the evening news.

For all us working stiffs, full or part time (semi-stiff?) , it's a day to reflect back on the fiscal year that was. Our receipts have been sorted, tax forms mailed in and a lazy, hazy summer waits just around the corner.

Things seem to be OK and yet who are these angry people marching everywhere. Based purely on ill informed conjecture I'd say that 70% are dyed-in-the-wool syndicalists, union organizers and the like. The rest are a scruffy coalition of nostalgic commies, anarchists, pacifists (any excuse for a nice walk), and maybe even a handful of misguided survivalists.

Both the survivalists and the anarchists hate big government and mega corporations. The survivalists come from way to the right and the anarchists from way to the left and differ mainly in that the former are more open about blaming everything on the Jews.

Another seasonal tradition that I'm not clear about is the Maypole. I know what one looks like, I think that comely maidens grab a ribbon and dance around, and it may have originated as a pagan fertility rite (God knows why they'd have used a pole for that!!). Today the ceremony is practiced year round by comely maidens in strip clubs. Honestly, I don't understand the stripper pole either. It's not erotic and if I wanted to see naked gymnastics I'd just go to my local grocery ....(new management, new policy, 73% increase in sales).

Anyways, maybe people are angry because of the global food shortage, rising commodity prices (especially oil), global warming, record foreclosure rates as the middle class gets compressed downwards etcetera, etcetera. All this as the oil companies rake in record profits; the fat cats getting fatter as the thin cats get thinner.

Again, this is all guesswork. There's such comfort in not knowing for sure. Maybe I'll watch some TV now.....

Where is He Now....Looking for Sonny (Sik Phuk) Yung

I'd completely lost touch with my first drum teacher, a little know but brilliant performer named "Sonny" (Sik Phuk) Yung. A Korean by birth, he came to Canada as a 20 year old to seek fame and fortune and left half a year later with Chlamydia. In those few months of lessons with him I learnt more about the art of musical performance than in all my years of study that were to follow.
Sonny used to say; "You got to putting good show...every time!!" or "Why you no having fun, music make you happy...every time!!" He wasn't a great technician but he swung like nobody's business and thanks to regular contributor Dixxx and YouTube I've found him once again.He taught me that technique was a means to an end and not the end itself. As such I came to loathe Drum corps even though I was studying to be a percussionist. Watch this next clip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFtc_rpg-Wg&feature=related and see if you agree that it is an awesome technical display, precise beyond words, and yet at the end of the day remains a lot of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Sure they're hot but could they move an audience to tears like Sik Phuk??
I'd always thought that drum corps was to music as body building was to sports/athletics, both concentrating on only a couple of parameters and raising them to super human levels. After the initial "awe" factor wore off I was left cold....until I saw the following clip of drummer girls http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNgPIx45Lk0 (again Korean...they say you are never really cured of yellow fever once you get it) in this drum corps style performance. Drums played by sexy Oriental chicks in suggestive poses, what's not to like??? So what if they're probably all gay and doing each other...a guy can dream can't he??!! (in fact gimme a minute....Ok, I'm back)
Flashy, sexy, precise, whatever....I'm sticking with Sonny Yung, a drummer who had more Seoul in his little finger than the whole lot of them (cue rimshot).

A True Story or: a Urinary Tract

"Carlos Castaneda takes us through that moment of twilight, through that crack in the universe between daylight and dark into a world not merely other than our own, but of an entirely different order of reality."

So writes Walter Goldschmidt in his foreward to "The Teachings of Don Juan" by Carlos Castaneda. I've never heard of Goldschmidt although he is remarkable for the 9:2 consonant to vowel ratio in his last name and I'm mostly aware of Castaneda's works because of the Chili Cook-off episode on The Simpsons (season 8 - "The Mysterious Voyage of Homer").

Nevertheless, the tales of the Yaqui Indian shaman and his use of psychotropic drugs (peyote, datura, etc.) to induce a heightened state of consciousness, provided a pseudo-intellectual rationale for millions of people, from teenage slackers to pompous academics, to get totally wasted.

I've never needed drugs to experience the other worlds that sorround us. Why just yesterday I had one of those perceptual time warps that Castaneda refers to as moments of power.

warning: the following story deals with male urination. If you are in any way uncomfortable with the subject please leave the room now.

We have a small powder room off the kitchen where I was now urinating, standing as is my wont, prior to the preparation of a delicious lasagna. (don't worry, I always wash my hands).

This was no different than any of the thousands of other such experiences I've had only I started to detect a quiet fizzing noise that, as I listened, grew louder with each passing second. It was a noticeable crescendo, as though someone were gradually moving a glass of alka-seltzer to my ear and I started to become alarmed. I stood motionless, looked down and sure enough there were bubbles but not the roiling, boisterous display one would expect to go hand in hand with such a noise. In mere seconds I had entered the twilight zone where my own urine was apparently effervescing enough to scare the hell out of me. And then, just as quickly, the mystery was solved and the universe returned to its rightful order....I had set some ground beef to brown for the Bolognese sauce before I went to pee, hence that sizzling sound as the stove element grew hotter under the meat filled pot...phewphhh!!!

Fears that I'd contracted CUS (carbonated urine syndrome) were quickly dispelled and I went on with my day.

Coincidentally, May is "CUS Awareness Month" in Canada. If you have any of the warning signs i.e.

• A not altogether unpleasant urethral tingliness



• A pervasive odor of fermenting cabbage



• foamy bedding

please contact your urologist immediately.

Another New Sponsor

Long a staple of Argentinian family dining, Himmler's has finally made it's way north. Famous for its quality food at low prices most Americans and Canadians are willing to let bygones be bargains and have flocked to the 1st US franchise, just outside of Detroit.

Of course the founder, SS man Heinrich Himmler, is the source of much controversy even long after his death, cryogenic storage, and several failed attempts at cloning. The restaurant's opening last January caused quite a furor (or should we say führer) but things have calmed down since then.

Himmler's famous stylized S-shaped "geschnitteneKartoffelnbrietenimÖl" or french fries (pictured below) have become an instant sensation as have many of the other Germano-American dishes. Next time you're in the Detroit/Windsor corridor stop by Himmler's....that's an order!!!

Spring Cleaning: The Forbidden Dance

There's a comfort level and intimacy shared by old friends. You know each others secrets, you've been there during good times and bad, and you accept each other, warts and all.

One such platonic friend (I'll call her Lise because it's easier to type than say...Genevieve) recently had a great idea.

We were discussing the sorry state of our dirty domiciles when she suggested that we could alternately visit each other and do a thorough day long cleaning followed by a home cooked meal.

I eagerly and innocently accepted, not realizing the dangerous ground that I was now treading upon until a later conversation with my GF Phyllis. I told her the idea and here is her reply: "At this point I don't care who you fuck but if I find out that you cleaned stuff for her that you wouldn't for me then it's over!!!"

I could imagine her rage...."You wet mopped her vestibule!!???!! and what about your front door, that knob didn't just polish itself.......(crying) you didn't dust her ficus did you??!!!"

Realtionships, even long distance ones, are replete with minefields and I'd gone ahead and unwittingly discovered yet another one. It occurred to me that for centuries men have been trading housework for sex. The image of wifely favors, yet to be doled out, motivating a strenuous bout of vacuuming, toilet cleaning or a myriad of other drudgeries we'd sooner avoid. I freely admit to doing this and come on guys...you know we've all been there. We're all chore whores and we know that a little elbow grease is better than any sex lube on the market!!.

Even though Lise and I will be jointly cleaning each others houses it will be Phyllis who reaps the benefits. Spring cleaning with its pushing and pulling, rubbing and buffing, delving into nooks and crannies (all this followed by a nice meal) is a great way for platonic friends to have physical, quasi-sexual fun without crossing any forbidden boundaries. If Phyllis trusts me to follow through with this plan she will show up in May to a spotless house and an eager boyfriend.....all because she let me sweep with another woman.

A Passover Story

Last year I posted a Passover primer (apr. 8, 2007) to bring my gentile readership up to speed on this beloved holiday. This year we can add a layer of meaning, (especially for Canadians and hockey fans everywhere), for Passover, as a rule, occurs during the NHL playoffs and this bond is forged so deeply in our psyches as to render the two virtually inseperable. As a youth I still remember my Grandpa Boris intoning the age-old prayers from the haggadah (story of exodus) or was it Canadien's play by play man, Danny Gallivan??

This year the tradition continued as the first Seder (or Passover ceremony of gastronomical overindulgence) coincided with a crucial game 6 (Bruins vs. Canadiens, round 1). As we made our way through the retelling of the story of the great exodus from Egypt the parallels were unmistakeable. I felt a kinship with my ancient ancestors as never before. Just as the Israelites acted with great haste as they prepared to flee from the murderous Pharaoh so did we, thousands of years later, as we zipped through prayers and wolfed down umpteen courses in order to free ourselves for a trip to the promised land....the den (or as we call it The Land of TV and Sofas).

My beloved father had to entertain the few guests who weren't interested in hockey and as such never did make it upstairs. Much like Moses he never got to cross the river Jordan (in this case a tastefully carpeted flight of stairs) and had to content himself with the knowledge that his offspring had.

And what of our beloved Canadiens??? As did the land of Israel, their playoff venture started out with vigour and optimism only to fall on hard times at the hands of a long time foe(see: Boston Bruins- The Arabs of the NHL. wikipedia). And yet....there is still reason for hope.

Tonight is game 7....next week in Philadelphia????

There's Gold in Them There Hills

....and it's black gold too but not the Texas Tea variety spoken of in the Beverly Hillbillies title song. I'm talkin' Montreal Silt and if you hear me out you'll be smacking your forehead and asking yourself "why didn't I think of that??" any minute now.

After a near record breaking winter, Montreal is still riddled with massive piles of snow and ice that cling tenaciously to our lawns and parking areas despite the recent spate of good weather. These are not the pristine, fluffy, alabaster heaps of January but rather the gray and dingy afterbirth, the quasi-corpse of a once healthy season waiting to be put out of its misery by the April sun. As the hills melt and shrink the gray turns to black as the crust of sediment condenses and this is where I come in!!

Listen up: Salt is used to reduce inflammation and leech out toxins from the body, carbon has well known curative properties, and any good exfoliant will have it's fair share of silicates. Throw in a few trace elements (and animal byproducts), add a bit of spring water, package it all handsomely et voila......a facial mud treatment for the home that can rival any available at even the finest spa!! Road salt, sand, and sludge that endure weeks of the freeze thaw cycle and a healthy dose of solar radiation are magically transformed into a top of the line health and beauty product!!

(warning: may cause tuberculosis....will probably cause typhus. Women whose breasts start to enlarge should immediately call a doctor, or me. Not for use on badgers or other members of the mustelidae family. May contain car and/or truck. If a persistent, burning rash appears on the area of application don't be alarmed...the product is working! Should not come in contact with the mucous membranes...ironically though, it may contain mucous......probably hobo mucous)

Tomorrow is set aside for harvesting the precious silt. I'll set out early with various spatulas and skimming tools and a van stocked with empty pails waiting to be filled to the brim. Once home I'll start loading the miracle mud into designer containers and while this product should market itself I'll still be looking for a spokesmodel just to be on the safe side. To date I've only had one application......if any of you out there are interested don't be shy...give me a shout.

While I may be the very 1st to market the stuff, a few locals have known about it for years....ever wonder why the women of St. Hyacinthe look so good???? And rumor has it that Celine Dion had a fresh vat of it flown to Vegas every week to share with her staff and give facials to the homeless (bless her heart).

Use Neige Noir der Montreal because let's face it...you could use a little help.

And Then There's Mauderation

What was I thinking?? It was late, I'm overworked and stressed and things here at The Blob got a little out of hand yesterday with a picture that would have brought an embarrassed rosiness to the cheeks of even a seasoned gynecologist.

I realized today that I can't be trusted and would need to hire an arbiter of good taste (it's a given that none of my readership can be trusted in that capacity either). In that light it was obvious that my first call would go out to Bea Arthur. Long revered as the 5th lady of American TV comedy (with apologies to Linda Lavin) for her pioneering work in the feminist sitcom Maude and later in Golden Girls, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NglGyn8yE20

Ms. Arthur has been busy of late on the college lecture circuit where her discussions of ethics or the lack of same in American popular culture play to SRO audiences nationwide.

A bit of arm twisting, a free crate of Blob Gear and it was a done deal. From here on in Ms. Arthur will parse and vet all posts before they go to print and has an iron clad agreement that her editorial veto will go uncontested.

I did get one concession however and any post can be re-enstated to it's original form if 3 or more people write in with an official request.

Case in point is my photo-shopped image of the faux Jewish Porn film; Butt Mitzvah vol.12 which has garnered so much attention from the Arab world. Arthur was appalled but withdrew her veto when I told her about the post's popularity. As luck would have it the image has even showed up on a major Russian news site!! http://newsru.co.il/pict/big/182322.html (Editor's note: Our knowledge of Cyrillic is not what it used to be...this could merely be neo-nazi propaganda)

And so, with a new sheriff in town, in the name of good taste and per Bea Arthur's recommendation, the vag pic has been downsized but the product depicted is still available from my catalogue. (she ordered two!!)

Too Much Information

I'm a curious fellow by nature and try to study and understand people who practice alternative lifestyles. There is however a show on CBC called Steven and Chris...sort of like Martha Stewart meets Queer Eye, that never fails to raise my ire if my random channel hopping leads to their show. See if you can tough out this clip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XBkEeyQe8yA and then see if you agree with me...I'm not a violent man but there's something about these two that makes me want to shoot them in the face.

One lifestyle choice I'm not a big fan of is body modification. Of course anything is OK in moderation (the distilled and diluted essence of human feces is used in some perfumes for instance

see: skatole)

but the indignities people inflict upon themselves is beyond the pale. Research led me to some sites too revolting to name where a myriad of attention starved losers pierce and cut parts and indulge in procedures I didn't even know existed...have you ever heard of a urethral reroute??? I hadn't until a few minutes ago and now I've seen pics of it!!

The internet truly is the wellspring of information that it promised to be. A generation or so ago people that knew lots of facts about many things were called "trivia buffs". The topics were more or less limited to entertainment, sports and a few others but today anything goes...it's all out there only a click a way. Yesterday's trivia buff is today's infomaniac. I myself am an infomaniac but this urethral reroute idea (along with a host of other bizarre things guys do to their dicks) has me rethinking the whole quest for knowledge.

What is clear though is that there's a large sub-culture out there attracted to this subversive form of supposed beautification and where there's a sub-culture there's also a fortune to made.

Genital adornment is the next big thing and with this in mind have I got a product for you ladies out there. Many of you have opted for labiaplasties, sizing down the labia majora for that porn star look after the girls in the shower commented on your meat curtains once too often. (BTW women with large ones are more than twice as likely to survive falls from high places because of the increased wind resistance ...see: flying squirrel)

I got to thinkin' "meat curtains...hmmmm" and so was born the concept of the labial drawstring and sconce ensemble. Not only is it decorative but it helps control that unwanted flapping noise. It's still in the prototype phase as I wait for my assistant to heal but it should be available at Home Depot by July.

Spring has Sprung

As my driveway glacier slowly recedes and Mt. Christolopoulous (as we call the majestic snowpile at my neighbour's house) turns to Lake Christolopoulous, it's safe to say that we have survived the winter of '08!! Spring, with it's bold promise of hope and renewal is at hand and it couldn't have come a moment too soon. The birds are back waking me at 5 a.m. with their delightful cacophony of joy (note to self: stop at Canadian Tire, buy Acme Bird Zapper) and the melting snow reveals tons of rotting animal feces that will be subsumed by our gardens later to become the tomatoes of August (that's also the name of my next novel).

Listen here to Nina Simone's take on the Beatles classic "Here Comes the Sun". Still an optimistic song, Simone, with a slower tempo and her moaning emphasis on key words adds a layer of meaning, the sense of relief after having survived an ordeal. We Nor'Easterners can relate: : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSSIlx9hiu8&feature=related

Spring too has it's moments of dread as any flood victim will attest but for me the fear lurks underground and, as I write this, is most likely stirring from his hivernal torpor, rubbing his beady little eyes, priming his trowel like claws, and feeling a might peckish after a 4 month fast.

I have a groundhog problem and nothing I do can stop the plundering beast. Budding flowers are routinely devoured, garbage bags violated, garden and lawn booby trapped with tunnel entrances and this brazen creature has the nerve to sun himself on my deck every morning as I watch helplessly!!

Also known as the whistlepig or land beaver this voracious and crafty earth moving machine taunts me at every turn. This is no ridiculous hand puppet as was Bill Murray's nemesis in Caddy Shack. This is the real deal; nature red in tooth and claw and armed with eons of well evolved survival skills. I almost brained it with a large rock from 30 paces once but that was as close as I'd get and now I find out that they have an uncommonly thick cranium and could easily survive a blow to the head that would jellify the brains of most other rodents.

And so another inevitable rite of spring awaits me, another round of stop gap landfill projects and pointless cayenne pepper dusting of flower beds.

This kind of brings to mind a different Bill Murray film and if any Hollywood type execs are listening OY have I got a sequel for you!! Groundhog Day II. Just think of it.....the exact same movie, don't change a thing (except the title a little bit) and in this, the irony age, people will flock to theatres or at very least revisit the movie on DVD. Small cash outlay, huge returns, what could be better??!!?? Call my people, we'll book a meeting....off to Spice Depot to pick up my bulk order of cayenne.