my new muse
the tiniest zen rock garden.
I am entranced.

who is Graig Kent at 5:35 PM?

Okay, maybe I am prejudice.
I traditionally equate foreigners (and other people who have difficulty speaking English) with friendliness.
My bad.
Foreigners can be bitches too.
Yes.
I guess it's wrong to prejudge everybody, innit?

who is Graig Kent at 1:06 PM?

Don't ask if I was talking to myself or to the tele.. cause I don't know.

who is Graig Kent at 12:57 PM?

I've been jogging about other weblogs again and have compiled a list of things that make me run away (and for which I am also likely guilty):
1)references to people I don't know but as if I know them
2)poetry (unless it's haikus...)
3)bad fontage (usually a color contrast problem)
4)copious links to those "which cast member am I" sites, and links of that sort
5)all links, all the time (don't you have anything to say... I know we're all not Verbal Diarrhea Dennis Dolls like me but, hey, say something, kay)
6)people writing with nothing to say (6/22/2002 2:01:09 AM | Nothing to say really, should go to bed. posted by...)
7)anime stuffs
8)umm... it's written in another language I can't read (my fault on that one...)
9)bloggers who don't personalize the templates... (this is a lie, but I find it kinda lacks personality without some modifications)
10) erm... blogs that havn't been updated in a long time (I think 3 weeks is probably the key that a blog's dead)
11)people bitching about other people's blogs... oh, wait...

erm...

who is Graig Kent at 4:46 AM?

-The depressives' mantra:
If it's a crime to love myself, then I don't want to be guilty.

Sure.

I just spent a good portion of my evening blowtorching, machine gunning, neck twisting, hatcheting and, in other words and ways, completely decimating the cruel lackeys of "the Corporation".
Vicarious wholesale slaughter by means of your PS2... a o.k. by me, as long as you're old enough to understand that the thrill you get from killing two hundred clones in under 10 minutes is entertainment purely on a level of clever political satire, and that it's not actually fun to chop someone's head off with a sword, then pick up that decapitated head and beat his cohorts with it...(devilish laugh).
The game, fyi, is "State of Emergency", brought to you by Rockstar Games, the makers of the other uber-violent (yet equally enjoyable on a vicarious violent rampage/poli-satire level (grin))...
Ah, god blessem.

why?
I still search for the reason why it took me four months to pick up Hayden's latest album, Skyscraper National Park. I mean, I love Hayden. I've been entranced by him ever since I first saw the video for "Bad As It Seems" on Muchmusic (MM has now since become the Devil, btw) back in 94. I bought all his albums as soon as a store got them, so why did it take me so long to get Skyscraper...?
It can't be because I was disappointed in Hayden's last album, because I enjoyed it, and continue to enjoy it quite thoroughly... despite shitty critical response.
Could it be I'm mad at Hayden for being away from music so long? But why keep myself from his beautiful tunage just because it took him so long to make it? If anything I should have wanted more. It can't be because of an overwhelming abundance of critical praise and mainstream popularity, cause, well, there hasn't been an over-abundance of praise (although all response has been good) and he still hasn't, nor will he ever, crack the mainstream.
So, why?
I dunno? Other stuff to buy I guess.
Perhaps I just didn't like the moose on the cover.
But I do like moose. Ever since I almost got killed by one riding my bike to work back in '97 (or was it '98?).
Whatever.
Futile exercise, this.

What I did at my Grandma's... otherwise
If you havn't already been doing so, I encourage you to talk with the older generation of your family and find out as much dish on your parents as you can. Generally your grandparents will have nice things to say about their offspring (unless your family doesn't get along, then it's all brutal shitthrowing gold) but every now and then you'll get a nugget of joy from them, some odd tale about what your pa used to do when... heheheheh.
They also help you understand why your family is like it is, observe through listening the patterns of behaviour, and the conscious efforts by members of the family to break those patterns. I listened, I learned.
And I watched the A-Team. 4:00 on TNN. It's not just for rednecks anymore!

who is Graig Kent at 3:01 AM?

The new Enon album is out, and it sounds awesoma powa. Muss go get.

who is Graig Kent at 5:13 PM?

Ah, you know, there's nothing like being unemployed and taking a few "days off" to go travellin'.
I went out to the hamburg of Peterborough to hang with my Grandma who's got to be the coolest lady over seventy this side of Betty White.
We went out yesterday to "the lake", waterfront cabin land the family owns about 1/2 hour north of the Pb.. a gorgeous day that, nice hot sun, nice cool breeze, and nice swimming water. I hung out on an innertube as I floated out from shore, neglecting the fact that water isn't a sunblock. I'm not burnt, per se, yet my back is a nice burning ember red, and my front is it's traditional whatever pale colour of pink my skin usually is. It's pretty funny looking.
I had a few wilderness close encounters while I was floating out there, including a shouting match with a loon, and a "how close can I get" contest with a great blue heron (answer: about two meters).
I think I had heat stroke last night, or else an over-infusion of cookies (god bless grandma), either way my dreams were fucked up something plenty (sleeping face down with a fan on my back).
First I was sure I was dreaming that my skin was falling off... but not actually off, just hanging loosely from my body (looking like prostetic old-age skin in bad tv and cinema).
Somehow, that segued into me dreaming I was with a whole group of friends visiting Michael Jackson's Fantasyland Ranch or whatever he calls it. Details are sketchy, but I remember a huge restraunt with a "leave your pants at the door" policy, odd bathrooms with stall doors that only covered your chest, a lot of gay men hitting on me, some kind of dance contest (I think Aquaman was there), a huge slab steak to eat, retro-futuristic (ie Logan's Run/THX-116 style) tunnels to roam through, zoo animals and some funky anti-gravity cars. Oh, and before you get bad thoughts, no sex was involved... just fyi, you stinkin pervos.
I woke up at some point (well, it was 4:04 am) and it was bloody hot... there was not much else I could do to cool down (the shorts stay on at grandma's thanks) so I sauntered back into dilusional slumberland, dreaming about losing my satchel - containing all my years of writings (including journals, my spec script, and other stuffs), address book, chequebook, and my favorite pen (but I don't have a favorite pen) - on the TTC subway. Well, I didn't realize until I was up on street level so it was definitely lost. So I went to some station post where I was trying to tell the ignorant TTC employee who was working at an emptied out A&W storefront in a food court at a shopping mall (!), as played by Jeremy Piven, (the odd thing was he was still wearing the A&W costume...)... as I'm explaining what happened for the 30th time, Ray Romano shows up and butts ahead of me, starts palling around with piven. Then the guy who plays his brother on Everybody Loves Raymond shows up (in character) and asks whats going on.. I tell he how big a jerk Ray was being, he laughs and says "Come on, we'll get you your bag." And we left, good friends. I woke up feeling nervous until I realized it was only a dream and that my bag was at the foot of the bed.
Man. What goes on.

Gringo Starr update
Okay, I go away for a few days and the little fucker off and fucks off again.
See if he gets anymore handouts from me.
I don't know what that means.

the weather
It's bloomin fookin hot out.
And raining.
And there's a smog warning.
I ate hotdogs for lunch yesterday and today.
Toronto is really kinda rotten sometimes.
Ever been on Toronto's Gardner Expressway... it's like 7 stories off the ground... the closest we've gotten yet to the flying car.
Something smells in here.

Song of the day
I can't find the one that I was thinking of so we'll just go with this one:
DJ Foosball by Four Head, bubbly, bouncy, and fun.

who is Graig Kent at 4:59 PM?

Song of the Day a bit more dour than ode to joy:
The Organ: We've Got To Meet

who is Graig Kent at 1:04 PM?

The Power Of 3 - the 3 greatest songs Part 1

Okay, this will be an ongoing project for the next few days, as I try to figure out my thoughts and feelings on the matter. As you may be able to tell, music (listening & loving, learning & laughing) is a big part of my life. It's the nexus that fills the black hole dubbed my "love life".
Ahem.
Radio On with David Wisdom (which is a Saturday night radio programme here in Canada on CBC radio two, a part of the R3 lineup consisting of 120 Seconds.com, Radiosonic, Just Concerts and New Music Canada) is having an ongoing "submit your top three list" thingy. You'd really have to listen to the show to figure out why it's going on, I think Mr. Wisdom changes it each week.
Anyway, picking three songs as your favorite is a challenging thing, especially when you're such as I and listen to all kinds of music and love so much of it... what criterea do you use to break it down with.
Follow me if you will, this be part1
Do I go by my three favorite bands/artists?
which are (not in order):
Stephin Merritt/Magnetic Fields, De La Soul, and Tori Amos.
Now, these are three of my favorite artists because their overall volume of work really connects with me, I have an investment in almost every song they've done, comparing them to, say, a Blackalicious or a Badly Drawn Boy, well, you can't. There's just not the same impact. But there are a few songs that Blackalicious and Badly Drawn Boy have done that really stand out, way out above the rest of their work, and perhaps even above most or all of my favorites' work. Do you see the dilemma.
So for right now, we'll compose a list of three songs, one from Stephin Merritt's projects, one from the De La archives and my favorite Tori tune (this is all really hard to choose)

Here we are, the 1st top 3 (again, no order.. yet):
Not the Red Baron by Tori Amos (a beautiful, haunting lullaby, encapsulating everything Tori, easily my favorite track)
Oodles of O's by De La Soul (an unusual choice, to be sure, but it's always been my standout De La track, straight-up off-beat hip-hop at it's cereal best)
Epitaph for My Heart by the Magnetic Fields (a difficult difficult choice, considering the quantity and quality of out Merritt produces (69 Love Songs alone has at least 7 of the worlds greatest songs), but for me Epitaph is the epitome of all Stephen's work, encapuslating an infectious hook, clever wordplay, deft song structure, some daft lyrics, completely off-kilter sound shifts and it resonates love, both pain and joy, at the same time)

So ends part 1...please feel free to email me to discuss, I know you’re out there.

She from he

She: Wow, I didn't recognize you. You look different every time I see you.
He: Yeah, heh, that's why they call me the chameleon.
He: Actually, they don't call me the chameleon.
He: Actually. they don't call me anything.
He: Actually, there is no they.
She: Oh, how pathetic.

who is Graig Kent at 11:21 AM?

This is the point in our relationship of Blogger writer and Blogger reader where I totally kill the investment by spoiling some aspect of your life which you probably enjoy tremendously by being oblivious to what I'm going to tell you.
And who do I blame?
My sister of course. (It's been so long since I blamed her for anything, almost forgot how good it felt... kidding PK)
It was late last year, my sister, her boyfriend and I were out at a movie, a rather popular movie where good seats were hard to find. But we did find good seats, or so I thought.
People find talking during movies to be annoying, well, it is, but my sis also found this... the constant tapping of shoes on her seat behind her (whether it was a result of people shifting their seating position, or whether they were resting their feet on the back of the chair and it was slipping down, or if they were just big jerks, I cannot say) annoyed her to the point of telling the person off behind her. Up until then I had never noticed this mildly annoying shoe tapping phenomenon.
But now that I have... ARRRRGH, movies are a nightmare. Everyone at some point is going to have their foot make contact with the back of the seat in front of them, and it doesn't matter if it's once or a hundred times, it's going to pull me right out of the film.
And it has, every time, ever since PK pointed it out. Thanks, sis, thanks.
Now I go into theatres looking for the "safe spot" but of course there is no safe spot.
60 to 70% of people go into the theatres and look for where other people are sitting, and choose a location open but still close to those people. It's true. I'm sure theatre ushers could tell some stories (mostly boring stories, but hey, give the guy a break will ya, he's a theatre usher).
So anyway, the only safe spot is the back of the theatre, where there is no option of feet on your seat, of course you have the rats to contend with back there. (Some theatres have other safe spots, like the seat in front of the wheelchair spot, or the seats that jut out on the far right and far left of the theatre... which are only really good if you have bad hearing in one ear and like looking at films on a slant.)
This annoyance, at this point, has made me come to a decision, either 1)I sit at the back of the theatre now on 2)go see films way into their release time when noone else wants to see them (i.e. end of 1st run, pre 2nd run) 3)go see films no one else wants to see (I hear Bad Company is almost unwatchable, ah good ol' dependable crappy Joel Shumaker... and didn't Hopkins retire like 4 years ago... it's true...read it) 4)just stop going to the theatres, dvd only (I'm tempted) 5)big bucks=private screenings 6)only go for the Varsity V.I.P. treatments (hmmm)
So at this point you're all probably going to kill me for bringing attention to this terribly fucking annoying plight.
(Plight?!?)

Movie Review in Briefs

Hey it's my first short movie review on the Blog page, and in my underwear no less. There's a pretty sight for y'all to imagine. Mwahahahahaa.
The first Blog review is Roman Coppola's CQ, a delectable feast in sixties era eye candy, but hurting in storytelling part. It's not that it's told badly, because the direction and editing is pretty cool, very well done (in fact the editing enhances the story), but moreover there's no emotional connection between the viewer (this viewer at least) and the film. I just really didn't care all that much about Jeremy Davies' bland director having a bland identity crisis, and his dour performance brought the whole energy level of the film down. Dealing with the production of a 60's cheesecake spaghetti-sci-fi film (akin to Barbarella), the energy should have been pretty kinetic, but it was fairly staunch.
I found myself more interested in the scenery (oh, what scenery it is, gorgeous retro everything) and craftsmanship (it was put together very well, very stylish) more than the story itself.
It's watchable, and a fantastic soundtrack really helps fill the voids, but it's only worth seeing on the bigger screen to take in all the pretty details. I would have actually preferred to see the entire "Dragonfly" film (the film within the film) rather than what we got.
My two cents (seven cents Canadian)

who is Graig Kent at 1:31 AM?

Black Books, one of the funniest tele comedies to come from britain is on right now on the CeeBeeCee. If you're Canadian, or an American that somehow gets our fine Canadian "programming", get away from the computer NOW and go watch...
I'll be back after with more nonsensical Graig-like updates.

who is Graig Kent at 12:54 AM?

milquetoast: One who has a meek, timid, unassertive nature.

See, I help as well as I hinder. Now get back to work!
That goes for me too.
I've spent my afternoon transcribing an old comics script (as discussed at 1:38 AM this morning on the board)... unfortunately there's a whole formatting component that goes along with writing scripts, so it takes friggin forever. In four hours I got ten pages done... TEN... forever... sheesh.
Back to the peky peky panel


who is Graig Kent at 5:45 PM?

I've been jockeying (sp?) back and forth between dozens of Blogger pages, from crazy people to even more crazy people... never really staying long enough to get overly encapsulated by someone's life... well with the exception of one, but that's not even a weblog (although she is part of the Jesus is Milquetoast collective... which in itself is a rad little riotgrrrl collective of liberalist and generally people much smarter than I.
What I've figured is "the Bay" area, and by that I'm figuring San Fran, is just the coolest place around for artsy fartsy people who don't seem overly pretentious... but then again, you never know.
Anyway... I'm done with the blogger rally for today... I have to be, otherwise I could be doing it for hours until my eyes bleed, and days on end with no hope of living life to it's pathetic fullest. It's okay today though... cause if you look at yesterday, I wasn't even up at this time yet... you do the math (what math???).
Grok.

who is Graig Kent at 1:00 PM?

Odd little site, followed through from "Sarah's" site:
Human's For Sale

FYI: I am worth "exactly: $1,900,898.00."


who is Graig Kent at 11:37 AM?

I like checking in on other's blogs, just randomly selecting one out of the "recently updated" list on the Blogger main page.

I came across this guy with this intriguing post:
Some crazy person has sold thier soul over Ebay.com for around £12 to someone in America who lost his own soul in an icehockey bet with a friend.
The legal contract is to be written in souls previous owners own blood.

and then followed by this post:
I keep getting ideas into my head for another story but as of yet I havent actually written anything.
My last story is still unfinished , I havent gotten around to re-writting the ending.
Hmm, maybe take some english classes to help your writting there buddy.

Yeah, I've probably got tuns of bad grammatik and speeling mistaks on this page to, so I shuddent mek fun of other people's writtings.
I AM BATARDE!!!

who is Graig Kent at 11:18 AM?

song of the day: Flash Ram by Brainiac

who is Graig Kent at 11:07 AM?

Wow, up before noon.
TRUMP!

Every time I do the Power Yoga for Strength (with Rodney Yee) portion of my P.Y. DVD (Region 1 thanks), I always get to doing this "side arm balance" around the 9:00minute mark and thinking, "god, is this done yet?", and by the 13:00minute mark, every time, I think, "god, am I done yet?"
It really is a workout, and not just flexing and relaxing. This isn't what I signed up for.

Gringo Starr update
okay, unless he went under the baseboards to curl up and die, I don't think he's there. He's not back.
I worry.
I hope he writes, wherever he went to.

Writing stuffs

Last night I found a comic script I wrote about three or four years ago. The formatting was a little rough, but it was only a rough draft, otherwise it was really good.
I'm going to transcribe it and post it... somewhere, probably on the revamped Chewbacca site (as soon as I get around to revamping said site...only 3 years in the not doing anything making. expect disappointment).
Anyway, the story won't make sense to non-comic book readers, and even if you do read comics, you'd pretty much have to had followed the Resurrection Man series, as this was a one-off issue I was going to proposed before the series went belly up.
When all is said and done, I'll put up an intro with a little detail of the characters appearing to catch everyone up, and a short description of timeframe for the continuity geeks out there.

who is Graig Kent at 10:32 AM?

I'm in the mindframe to begin tackling some scriptwriting which the other exploding head and myself have been pontificating for roughly ten months, and were totally using a BBC style of story structure to tell our stories, more specifically were in the biz to blantantly rip off (or as we like to say, pay hommage (pronounced wrong intentionally)) to the works of Graham Linehan and that other guy he works with (Dylan Moran, I looked it up), two fantastic tele series from over yonder, Father Ted and Black Books.
Now recently the complete Father Ted scripts were published in book format called (get this) "Father Ted: The Complete Scripts" (how clever) and I was going to purchase this item off of the massive Amazon.comglomerate... only they don't have it, but you know who does? Amazon.co.uk. Well duh.
As I was looking, trying to figure out what the hell "£" that means (yeah, pounds, bloody pounds, I know what feckin bloody pounds are, aye, but bleedin what's all that nonsense mean in real money, eh?) in Canadian (not real money) I decided to look about a bit for other such Eurotreasures, namely what they get on DVD that we don't.
Not much actually, they really don't get too much more than us, and they usually get it way later than we do, but they have some good stuff, some good stuff that I want, and could get, but it wouldn't matter because you have to have a bleedin' Region 2 DVD player.
Now if you don't know what's going on with the whole region bit, lets describe it in metaphor:
I'm a bear that lives in the woods, let's call me Sony Warner Fox-Disney. I am a big bear so I rule the movie market, err, woods, and I've segregated the woods into four distinct areas where different woodland animals live, calling each instead of by a country or continental name, rather a bland and indistinct, void of any cultural signifigance, Region 1, 2, 3, and 4. Now in each region there are trees by which the animals shit, but they can only shit by these trees if they've bought a DVD player for that region. Why is this the case, why isn't there just love and free shitting everywhere? Well, see what happened was years ago, bear Sony Warner Fox-Disney made CD's, err bushes. In some areas bushes were really expensive to shit by, but then along came a clever raccoon, let's call him The Internet Merchant, and he would sell the cheaper new land bushes to the old land where bushes were way overpriced. When the new tree-shitting technology was introduced the bear decided to deliberately fuck the raccoon and the other woodland animals by digitally encoding the shitting trees for specific DVD players... you see, it's all about poop, which is money... I dunno, I basically lost this metaphor when I started it.
Anyway... my train of though is shot, what was I getting at?
Ah, because I don't have an R2 DVD player (North America is Region 1) I cannot buy the rare 3RD SEASON OF FATHER TED on DVD or BLACK BOOKS on DVD or even FUTURAMA SEASONS 1 & 2 on DVD. Well, I could, but I'd have no way of watching them.
Anyone know how to disengage the region lock on an RCA (model number to come once I get off my duff)?
Anyone?

Oh, and I didn't get that Father Ted book, cause I don't know how much £15.99 will come to in CDN worthlessness, and I don't have infinite resources here.

Gringo Starr Update
Still missing.

who is Graig Kent at 1:38 AM?

From DVD File:
Hey Muppets fans, Columbia continues to mine the Muppets for yet more DVD releases, with three new ones due on 9/3. The Best of The Muppet Show Volume 1 and Volume 2 include three classic, uncut episodes revolving around superstar guests ("Elton John," "Julie Andrews," and "Gene Kelly" on Volume 1, and "Mark Hamill," "Paul Simon" and "Raquel Welch" on Volume 2) plus promos, and on 9/3 Columbia will also release something called Kermit's Swamp Years. Each is presented in full frame and retails for $19.95 a pop.

Dag, I was hoping for, like, an actualy season 1 box set.
Oh well.


who is Graig Kent at 7:38 PM?

Gary rules because of things like this:

"inner ear spider photo!
like a chiahuahua, except in human format.
(or that homeless guy around here with the hair made of greasy foam pillow. ewwww.)

well, now if gringo is gone, is your blog a tribute? to the best spider in the world?"

See, Gary does all the work for me. Why should I spend my time trying to find things such as the picture above (again, arachnaphobics beware) when I have my own personal NET AVENGER... or is that net adventurer... to do it for me.

And to answer the question, if it must this will be a meta-tribute page to poor ol' Gringo Starr (who I actually think is just hinding under the baseboards... maybe he's cold, I should knit him a sweater).

who is Graig Kent at 5:29 PM?

He's still missing, and thanks to Gary for this lovely bit of info:
bad spider story (to arachnaphobics, DON'T READ!!!)

Song of the day:Radiohead - Stupid Car : a haunting Thom Yorke vocal track with ghostly spirits breezing through the background. Download, savages.


who is Graig Kent at 4:28 PM?

Oh sure, I start this damn blog, affectionately naming it after my little pal Gringo Starr who lives behind my toilet and what happens the day after??? The little fucker disappears. He's been living there over two months, in the same spot, moving only when I toss food occasionally into his web.
Now, gone.
I thinks it's cause I took a foto of him yesterday. The flash probably pissed him off, and now he's off and away on some "Incredible Journey" meets "Incredible Shrinking Man" type voyage... only there's no talking animals in real life and I'm sure he's not going to take on a pin-high guy with a pencil.
Remember those great sci-fi films from the fifties, the ones with all the dour, unhappy endings, like in shrinking man, where he shrunk into oblivion, or the fly where he dies in the spider web... they don't make depressing films like those anymore.

who is Graig Kent at 2:47 PM?

People always wonder about the air quality around us... well I was emptying out the dehumidifyer (again, it's humid here in tranna, bae) and I was wondering exactly how pure the quality of water is in the air... could I drink that water.. not that I would but.. if someone dared me...
Hey, it'd be cool if Brita made a dehumidifyer that purified the water it took from the air, and you could just dip your glass into the punch bucket resevoir and have yourself a nice glass of air-water.. mmm Oxygenariffic.

who is Graig Kent at 2:15 PM?

"Waking up and getting up have never been easy.."
Boy, you said it sister.

My alarm went off at 9:30 am... I don't need an alarm for anything. It's not like I really have anything pressing to do or anywhere to go. So, I shut off the chime and promptly went back to sleep. When I went back to sleep I started dreaming about waking up. Really. Strange.
In the dream when I woke up the clock said 12:00 and I thought "I really have to get up"... I hauled ass out of bed and went to a Humpties for breakfast, only in my dream this restaurant was located where Sonic Boom (formerly Cheapo) is on Bloor in T.O. (Riiiight).
I went in figuring it was lunchtime, sat at the table closest to the door (the odd thing is the place is huge, HUGE, and there were only like, 6 tables inside, the rest of the space was primarily empty with a couple of pool tables and a cash registar booth situated in the center).
So I'm checking out the menu and the only thing on it are drinks, all kinds of drinks, four flippin pages work. I see an advertisement posted in the window for a chicken burger and a veggie burger and I say "If I must".
The waitress is the Finance Manager from the place I last worked at... I just realized this now, and not in my dream, how odd.
Theres a group of five at 2 tables pulled together near me (I met these guys at the Riv two weeks ago) and they were ordering breakfast food. I saw no menu for breakfast food. Then somehow I caught the time, and it was actually around 7am. HUH?
Mass of confusion abounds. So I borrow the breakfast menu from these guys which turns out to be the movie listing clipped from the newspaper with gibberish written in blue pen (which was supposed to be the menu items..ookay...). I tell the waitress my little story and everyone in the place laughs along.
I proceed to draw little arrows in blue pen on the tile of the floor, but not too many, then I blank out for a second, and when I come too there are a bunch of miscellaneous college girls who had drawn more blue pen arrows all over the freakin place.
The end (of what I can remember)
Really.

I just got up.
My life is sad.
Time for yoga, and then I'm job hunting... spear me a big boar of a job, yeah buddy.

who is Graig Kent at 1:06 PM?

What is point-to-point (p2p) protocol? WHen you're on KaZaA or Morpheus or Winmx, what is your obligation to the people uploading from you? Are you obliged to stay online while they grab things from you? Is it wrong to want to shut your computer down when you leave it for a time?

HAHAHA. Just had some guys download my "Hidden Cameras" pictures from KaZ... I was like, really, these guys are into the Hidden Cameras as well, cool. But then I did a check of their user file, and gues what... porn porn porn.
Sorry guys, these Hidden Cameras are all about making damn good music (check out their
Radiosonic In Session... it goes beyond the description of good.)

who is Graig Kent at 1:22 AM?

Just hung up from a marathon phone session with a great pal of mine, asking for my advice about the fairest sex and age difference. Now if anyone knows me (and anyone reading this likely does, cause hey, who else would be reading this?) they know I'm almost all theory and no practical when it comes to women.
But he was asking about brainmatters and how to think about certain things, that certain thing being younger girls and the age difference between 19 year olds and people our age (that's 25 pushing granpa, fyi)... should it matter?
This is like a low-budget canadian Sex and the City column here.
But should it? In my experience with 19 year olds (and people not born in the 70's) as "romantic interests", well, they just don't seem to get it, and by it, I mean me. Unfortunately, most people don't really get me, so my opinion's pretty jaded. But I digress. I have some friends who are a ways younger and they're cool, we just don't quite relate as well, it's kinda the same with me and the 30-somethings who have lusted after me.
But in general, if it's not a problem (the age thing) then there is no problem. If you get along fabulously with a person and everything clicks, then screw the age difference, it's a formality of time, and nothing else. It has no bearing on our mentality, our maturity (I mean, look at me, 9 year olds have the upper hand on that one), and often our physicality (I'm healthier now than I've ever been, except I have an annoying head cold, but forget it).
Don't let the age thing stand in the way of making you happy. As long as the elements are there, attraction of mind in particular, it ceases to be an issue (unless they're underage, then it's a problem with the law, y'dig?)

who is Graig Kent at 1:14 AM?

I've noticed that when I have my Proxomitron on, I can't sign out of my Blog account... it just wont let me...
God, what am I doing with myself.


who is Graig Kent at 6:06 PM?

Okay, the plan is to change the header JPG every so often... but I'll probably get lazy and forget. If so, somone remind me... anyone.
please.
I'm wasing my life.

who is Graig Kent at 6:04 PM?

onto the next one:

who is Graig Kent at 2:19 PM?