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wThe Spider Behind My Toilet |
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There's a spider that lives behind my toilet. I've named him Gringo Starr. This isn't about him... or her... crap, I never thought it might be a her... How do you tell what sex a spider is?
The Gringo so far:
04.something.02 - Gringo Starr appears behind my toilet, doesn't really move from his web until:
06.17.02 - Gringo disappears, no note left behind
06.19.02 - Gringo reappears, no explanations
06.21.02 - Gringo disappears again. Why, Gringo, why?
07.01.02 - Gringo Starr 2: Electric Boogaloo (aka The Spider Beside My Toilet) appears.
07.02.02 - Gringo2 pulls a Gringo1, a phenomenon dubbed "Gringo Starrs on the Move: Crush Groove"
07.02.02 - The first and last appearances of Steve Allens 1&2
07.06.02 - Both Gringo Starrs turn up at the same time. GS2 makes a move for GS1 so I incarcerate him in a jam jar overnight.
07.06.02 - Gringo Starr 2: Electric Boogaloo is fed, and then is released into the wild of the backyard.
07.08.02 - Gringo Starr 2 returns?
07.09.02 - Gringo Starr 3: Rise of the Machines appears
07.09.02 - Spider standoff
07.09.02 - Is he... a she?
07.09.02 - Gringo 3 incarcerated!!
07.09.02 - A spider halfway house? IVan Drago arrIVes
07.10.02 - Johnny 5 joins IVan in the Jam Jar Jail
07.11.02 - What do those damn silverfish have to do with it?
07.12.02 - EXTRA EXTRA: spiders released from Jam Jar Jail
07.17.02 - Gringo saw me naked
07.17.02 - they've followed me to work!
07.24.02
- Steve Allen 1 returns for another engagement.
07.30.02
- both Steve Allen's about, no knows of Gringoses though
July 31, 2002 started out like any other day, finding yet another, unnamed spider behind my sink...
but then late that evening, Gringo Starr, long thought missing, was found dead, crushed beneath a bathmat.
condolences came quickly, as I grieved with Gringo Fans before I milked it too far and sympathies abruptly stopped.
But the Gringo StarrLegacy doesn't end there.
And then I killed Steve Allen 1 (oops).
A houseguest on 08.12.02 brought in a new pal, small and white, who has taken up residence somewhere around the stove. Perhaps he will make it to Gringo's bathroom? Time will tell what's in store
Current Status
two baby spiders beside the toilet and tub.
The Emote Site:
Music
Biography
Lomography (photos)
Links
The Chewbacca Site:
100 dumb things about Graig
Stories and stuff
Other Blogs, Better Than Mine, Worth Attending To Daily At My Expense
More Than Donuts (brilliantly witty, unlike me)
Mighty Girl (less to read than me, better quality)
Adventures of Accordian Guy .. (for all my Toronto fun)
Note To Self (she's a pistol)
The Big List a blog of lists, to which I contribute more of my nonsense
Silvergull.net (your daily serene photo
No Shirt, No Shoes, No Teeth... No Problem (smoke signals from a Texas trailer park)
The Daily Nonsense (it's daily, and nonsensical)
Girls are Pretty (every day's a new "day")
The Daves I Know, so go..
Wendyland is the happiest place on Earth
Carla's Infrared Eyes
Emma Jane's mouth full of food
Kelly's Tasty Marmalade
Rannie is a PhotoJunkie
Gary is allergic to Eggnog
Jen's Circadian Shift
Jeremiah is a tad delusional
GTABloggers.com (Toronto's blogger debouchery)
correspondence
more info on house spiders
this sidebar's getting way too long
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hosted with:
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wSaturday, August 10, 2002 |
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tips for the kiddies:
the sun is hot: don't touch.
who is
Graig Kent at 6:29 PM?
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wFriday, August 09, 2002 |
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words from a dirty old man (28 is old?)
We were discussing those breathalizers that they have in the bars, you know the ones where you stick the straw into the thing and breathe and it'll tell you how pissa you are in red, yellow, or green lights.
Me - "Have you ever seen anyone use one of those things?"
Dan - "No but I have seen the one's on the car, you know, you have to breathe into it before your car will start."
Me - "Yeah, but that won't do much good if you just get your kid to do it. 'Come on Billy, come blow into this thing...'"
Dan - "No way mister, I'm not falling for that one again. (we all laugh uproariously) Last time I blew it all came back up in my face."
ah, the ex-altar-boy strikes again. Dan is a dirty 28-year old man.
who is
Graig Kent at 2:08 PM?
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White Star Line
White Star Line had their cd release party last night at the Horseshoe Tavern, playing to a decent crowd in a non-headlining engagement... oddly enough.
Apparently I was first out the gate to purchase WSL's self-titled album... I was the first cash-for-cd transaction. Fuck, I'm special!!
The opening band, Delusional or somesuch was 98% shite. Really. They were bad. Mal-coordinated, sporadic energy, an unusual repetoir of 60's french-pop mixed with the Cult inspired songs, and three (count them, three) "last songs"... I have no patience for people who can't get the fuck off stage. Basically, these guys seemed like a high-school band turned thirty, like Rod Torfleson's Armada Featuring Herman Menderchuck from Kids in the Hall. Just, *cough* lame. Although, to be honest, I did enjoy one song, which seemed to actually suit the singer's limited vocal range, and the band's limited playing ability (their drummer is pretty good at times though).
White Star Line hit with a shaky but fun performance. Luka didn't have his once trademark chair, opting instead for a shirt-wide-open, Danko Jones inspired, hopping around the stage performance. He was feeling it, but he seemed to want to fidget with things more than play. It was a good show, but not one of the WSL's best performances. It's a shame that the set wasn't really taken more seriously, as the WSL probably pulled in a lot of new listeners after getting a full page in the Eye and really didn't perform up to their usual standards.
For the few that have been initiated in a WSL show, it was a lot of fun to see them cut loose - Luka with his typical improv lyrics are always a highlight - but for those that have never seen them, it may have been a little too unusual, a little too overwhelming.
Until this show, I'd always attributed the WSL as a basement jam band; subdued but extremely into it, and typically very intimate. This go round was more show, more of a push the audience back... good, yet still, not quite right.
Following up was More Plastic, a band whose time may have, unfortunately, passed. This would have been the sixth time I caught More Plastic live, if I had hung around to see the whole show. The introduction of a saxaphone, friends, is not a good idea in any band unless you're really trying to recreate the Miami Vice soundtrack on stage or something. No, More Plastic used to be an incredibly hyperkinetic 5-piece psychedelic-roots-rock band with a whole gospel-revival live schtick, but since the loss of their keyboard/second guitar, the sound and the live dynamic have not been the same. Their lead rodeo clown now is trapped on stage with the second strings so he doesn't have the freedom to, as the legendary Bruce Dickenson would say, "explore the space. No, really, explore the space."
Last night, a camera crew was on hand to witness the More Plastic experience, causing an unusual rhythm to appear in both the band and the crowd. The camera was obtrusive, and the band seemed to play more to it than the crowd.
Did I just have a bitchy night, or am I actually telling it like it is. I dunno.
Unfortunately I missed the last band, A Northern Chorus, an apparently moody, space-pop, drone-core band with a viola which probably would have put me in a great if not sleepy mood.
On the positive: WSL's new album is brilliant
I'm completely entranced by their self-titled debut. It is good beyond words. Tremendously enjoyable, the pace and flow is phenomenal. The songs seemingly bridge into one another (and often actually do), ranging from Pavement-esque goofy-pop straight through to post-rock of the dronology nature. It's so very very cool, you must own it! Easily in my top three for the year.
Buy it direct from them for $12 canadian (I'm sure it says how on their site somewhere)...
who is
Graig Kent at 12:35 PM?
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oh, my, I can't believe my ears
"I've waited for this moment for years,
oh, can it be,
Steve Allen's going to talk to meeeee"
-Space Ghost, from "Boatshow"
Unfortunately, Steve Allen is dead. Yes, the real Steve Allen is dead, has been for a while, is not news. But the spider beside my sink, aka Steve Allen2, well, he's dead also. He got caught betweent he bathmat and the door. Smoosh. His long, spindly, daddy-long legs flattened out like road pizza. Sorry bubby.
He got a proper flushing and a two gun salute (with my fingers and a cacophonous "bang bang" adding "so long lil' buddy").
who is
Graig Kent at 11:09 AM?
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today's cam
is the water bottle cam
Keep watching, and see if Graig is getting hydrated.
who is
Graig Kent at 9:47 AM?
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fun with toronto at night
a- getting on the bus was one of these perky, small-town "just arrived in Hollywood with bright eyes and a wide smile" girls, looking and dressing much like a Brat Pack reject (we're talking pink skirt and crimped hair... seriously... no oversized white belt though). She socially engaged the bus driver and the other passengers at the front of the bus, amusing us all with a very Ethel Merman-esque rendition of Oh, Canada. But I don't think she was straight off the country bus, I don't think she was straight at all... liquored up and flying high.
Are all cheerful people to be socially rejected in this manner?
b- oh those hotdog guys, vying for my affection and attention. Last night I began approaching the two competitors (like Spy vs Spy) and they immediately started yelling "Hotdog, Sausage, Veggie, Hotdog? Sausage? Veggie?" in tandem and almost in unison, in a relationship not unlike Siskel and Ebert had before Gene went off and died. I stood there between the two stands for a second as they called out to me, my head twisting side to side, their thickly accented English unable to really convey any sense of sway... I was like a dog caught between two owners "come on boy, come on come on..."
I basically chose in the manner I always choose (jobs, apartments, girlfriends, etc)... to whom am I approximately the closest?
And once I made my choice, I was promptly cooked up a dog and then easily forgotten as another famished midnight traveller blipped on their radar.
c- teenage mothers on the bus, at 12:30, passing booze across the aisle hidden in a brown paper bag but not well enough. The cute curly-blonde haired child, slouched forward, asleep in her stroller. The girls were complaining about having to go home and they were wondering if they could cover each other with their mothers. I didn't want to listen.
d- In front of my house there was a stumbling couple, well her more stumbly than he. She was giving him that "state of the union couples address" that insecure drunk chicks like to give when they're really ripe an toaste. "How long we been seeing eachother now, 7 months, and you... I adore you... you are like, the best guy, you're perfect for me..." and on and on... I should have sat and watch the scene on the front porch, cause it would have been a highly entertaining show, but, alas, at quarter to one in the morning, I have better things to do.
who is
Graig Kent at 7:36 AM?
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wThursday, August 08, 2002 |
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you'd think...
that after my adventure with Carla and the Amazing Technicolour Preserved Eggs that I'd have pretty much wanted to keep away from ingesting ovaries of any sort for the next little while. Well, I ate two before the horrible coke-bottle-gym-mat flashback nearly upset the balance of the force in my stomach. Yeugh.
Next time, I'm taking a picture. Hot or not indeed.
who is
Graig Kent at 7:17 PM?
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wow!!!
today, I feel all funny, and yet, I'm making nobody laugh
Wow, this is amazing. I've been looking for my dream girl, a 24 year old blond girl from Toronto. Wow, can life get any more perfect. And I found her on the net too, wow, this is just... amazing. Wow!
I must email her, because she said she is my dream girl (see, look, right there "I am your dream girl!"... what reason would she have to lie to me?)
And her name, Cali6n9_82... such a pretty name. Imagine if Cali6n9_82 and I got married, then she'd be Cali6n9_82 Kent. Oh, how perfect would that be, me and my dream girl...
This is all just to creepy weird.
I need Tacos... from Tacotime (not fucking Taco Bell... aren't there any real fake Mexican restaurants in this berg, jeebus)
who is
Graig Kent at 5:49 PM?
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song of the day(?)
so what's going on with the song of the day?
well, thanks, nobody, for asking. Glad to see you all care so much about my musical taste.
I'm thinking I might, instead of doing the song o' the day, do a compilation once a month or so, using a mix of ripped mp3s hosted for a ltd time on my site and other mp3s available on the net.
Could be fun.
blugh
who is
Graig Kent at 11:59 AM?
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today's cam
is the Autobot cam, also known as Graig's boobie cam.
for doze
Typically I make a decision as to when I fall asleep. I traditionally am up writing, reading, goofing on the web or whathaveyou until I basically come to a point where I ask myself "am I staying up or am I going to sleep". It's my decision.
Except, from time to time, usually during the day, my eyes go buggy, the begin to vibrate in the back of my head, and with each blink my eyelids open less and less. I sometimes have the sense to put myself into a comfortable position before I completely zonk out, but usually, I find some way to stimulate myself awake.
Last night was another exception, a very rare exception, where I fell asleep without deciding to, without realizing it. I don't remember dreaming, I just know I woke up suddenly at six o'clock-ish, realized it was light out and was profoundly confused. I didn't remember falling asleep, it didn't really feel like I had slept, and yet, I had assumed "the sleeping position".
It was dark, blink, it was light. It was 11:30, blink, it was 6-something. I was on my back, blink, I was face down in a pillow. I was tired, blink, I'm still tired.
What I know: very unusual.
who is
Graig Kent at 11:36 AM?
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wWednesday, August 07, 2002 |
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there's a word there (aka Lunch with Lala)
It's a rare and unusual treat when I get to go out to lunch with people I actually like, instead of the having to eat with the measley bastards with whom I work...
(just kidding, they're a lot of fun, really)... no, today the lovely Carla joined me in chinatown for a new restaurant eating experinece. I played it completely safe with sweet and sour porkchop on rice (varying only in meat selection from yesterday... how adventurous) while Carla ate some duck on rice with... something. Bad memory.
But she also had a side dish... atop a garnishing of ginger were some egg wedges... very different egg wedges... basically, it looked like someone took a snapshot of some quartered hard-boiled eggs and then solarized them in photoshop.
The "whites" were translucent(!) beer-bottle-brown(!!) in colour, and the yolk (traditionally yellow, for those that don't know) was, essentially, gym-mat foam green(!!!). I'm am completely serious. And Carla ate this stuff... and enjoyed it immensely with a dipping sauce of her own concoction... and she knew it was going to look like that when she ordered it!
I braved the smallest of nibbles, remarkably withholding a very weak gag reflex, and actually finding the taste and texture to be completely similar to a regular hard boiled egg, if not just off a little (kinda like fridgey water). Can't say I'd ever try it again, but I can at least say I tried.
I'm waiting for Carla to remind me what they were called, but you can go check them out at the Golden Dragon yourself if you really feel like doing so. Really.
***update***
these nasty looking buggers are "preserved eggs"... I don't know how long or where they're preserved but... eugh...
(have to get a picture next time)
who is
Graig Kent at 4:10 PM?
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today's cam:
is Normal Cam, because, unlike typically, I'm feeling especially normal... which I'm pretty sure is a good thing.
who is
Graig Kent at 8:52 AM?
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wTuesday, August 06, 2002 |
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*bang head against something hard*
this happens every time I have a nap...
no, not banging my head against something hard, but the total stammering about the world without any motivation except the desire to eat sweet, sweet brains... all coated in candy and gelatin...mmm.. and SPRINKLES! yaay!
Blug.
I have no desire to work on anything at all. Thankfully I'm not getting paid to do anything right now so I have every option to slackerass, my good man... it's only me that feels guilty and gets wounded every time I have an unproductive evening at the computer.
update9:48pm
I did get a resume out to a bigwig tech company through my dad's friend an neighbour's son (follow that logic)
problem1) I no tech guy
problem2) I no bigwig guy (I'm a sweet and simple guy, although I know a few who'd beg to differ)
problem3)umm, whatever, my resume kinda sucks. Two years at wal-mart will destroy your future like that. (They're not only the small town killer, they're also the career killer)(and they're also like Grandma prison, and I'm not going back there)
Plans:
lunch with carla (maybemaybe)- wednesday
white star line - thursday
taste of danforth/freebie "the weekend" concert - friday
put in a bear suit/pre-wedding party - saturday
off to windsor (maybe, plan 1) - sun thru tues
work (?, plan 2) - mon thru fri
off to owen sound - fri thru sun
ummm. yeah. something's just not fitting there.
who is
Graig Kent at 9:19 PM?
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baby names
guy at work just became a daddy. He named his child Thomas... their last name is Tom.
Tom Tom.
Riiiight. He's going to have a fun childhood.
I'm going to name my kid Kent.
who is
Graig Kent at 1:54 PM?
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I loveExcellent Peking House
on Spadina, just before Dundas... why?
For 4 bucks, I get sweet&sour chicken on rice (with onions and green peppers), eggroll, sweet&sour soup, tea, and a fortune cookie.
Of course, if you only get take-out, you get your meal and the cookie, but no tea, eggroll or soup dammit... and no chopsticks. Grr.
this christmas...
I want socks.
Nothing else.
And not sport socks or tube socks... nice socks dammit.
who is
Graig Kent at 1:29 PM?
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smart thing I wrote in email
"sanity is for suckers!"
yup.
who is
Graig Kent at 11:17 AM?
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today's the Spider Behind at Work cam is...
black and white and upside-down.
wee!
LOOK DAMMIT
who is
Graig Kent at 8:57 AM?
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wMonday, August 05, 2002 |
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make a mixed tape/cd
it's fun.
who is
Graig Kent at 4:39 PM?
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strange thinking
I'm the only one out of my tight-knit circle of friends who has no allergies or dietary restrictions. Sure I'm picky, I just don't like some stuff, but jesus, to have a dinner party for all my friends... egads...
Mark - nothing with eggs, fish, or poultry
Gary - no eggs, nuts, legumes, or fish
Emma - specific fruits, nuts, veggies, oils
Ryan - rubber family produce
Candice - no meat
Paula - no wheat/gluten/dairy
Kelli-Ann - no dairy
....
so here's what I serve:
potatoes, rice/rice crackers, water, corn/cornbread, honey, a pepper platter (for colour), a green salad, vitamins, cardboard, sugar.
who's in?
Jesus Christ: Vampire Hunter
A freaktastically enjoyable campy fun film. The diminutive Jesus Christ is resurrected to take out a gang of vampires preying on the Ottawa lesbian population.
Gloriously overacted, terrifically badly dubbed, full of complete off-the-wall ness...it's cheesy, intentionally, and funny.
It was shot for about $40,000 bucks (that's Canadian folks, so, like, $3 U.S.), so it's definitely not pretty, but that works to it's advatage.
It's best described as a cross between the Gaillo genre of Italian Horror Filmmaking and Cannibal:The Musical... in other words, cheesy horror mixed with zany comedy and dance sequences.
And the soundtrack, an original soundtrack mind you, kicks ass. Honestly, it does. The techno-industrial opener with vocorder vox just rocks.
And the spinning dial and the rotating crucifix.. haha, made me laugh every time.
This is the best $40,000 film I'll see this year, I hereby proclaim.
who is
Graig Kent at 2:22 PM?
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wSunday, August 04, 2002 |
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the coolest thought I had today
You're sitting on a bustop bench, anxiously awaiting the transit's arrival, happily shuffling you off to work, and somebody walks past you, dropping a folded note on your lap. You unfold it, and in red pen and bad penmanship it reads:
"You're still sleeping"
That's trippy.
also trippy
I made a bunch of phone calls yesterday, and nobody was home, including two attempts to my friend who just moved to windsor. Perhaps she doesn't have her phone set up yet, or just no voice mail.
Anywho, get a call this morning from some guy asking for Kent, Craig... saying he was from windsor and I tried to call him twice yesterday.
Um. Yeah. But. No.
who is
Graig Kent at 9:35 AM?
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oh, mama
I don't know where they came from, but there's about four (4) baby spiders hanging aroung the ol' Gringo bathroom... yes, I've named the bathroom Gringo (just now... there... just then...)... they're still too small to tell, but I think they're sac spiders like Gringo and not those other kind that seem to have take over for the moment.
As an aside, one of the great things about this site is hearing about, or being shown, others' bathroom spiders. Em showed me hers, and I balked at his patheticness and tried to encourage her cat to eat it, which I don't think was appreciated by anyone/thing. Mr. Faux-mo told me this morn about the spider on his windowsil, and the other spider at work that hangs out in a similar destination (I'll have to check 'em out).
Perhaps I'm creating tolerance for the arachnic species. They've gotten a bum rap lately, and propeganda like Eight Legged Freaks don't help so much.
song of the day
Disco Inferno was a strange little band mixing electronic and found sounds with piercing lo-fi post rawk.
Ian Crause was the former lead of DI, and carry's on the tradition, with perhaps a bit more melody than DI ever had.
New stuff
Ian Crause: Head over Heels
who is
Graig Kent at 8:25 AM?
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burl early
Yup... it's afore eight am as I start this and I am so not awake, and yet have been for two and a half hours now.
Through the greatest of sacrifices, I drove Mr. Eggnog to the airport (but he paid for gas, so I guess that balances things out... or not). The Faux-mo is doing yet another tour of duty (heh heh, doody... heh) in NYC, still unsure of whether he's to become a permanent resident or just another Manhattan Transfer (oh, that's lame)
It's Caribana/Carinval big time around Toronto right now. As it was last year, my street is completely bogged with parked cars and passer bys, and I can hear the music standing in the front yard. Hey put me up on the roof and I can watch what's going on too. Awright.
Traffic is more nuts than usual, and the people are too. Hanging out at Em's we were treated to numerous backed up cars booming a wide variety of music... but, people, come on, Spice Girls? during Carnival/Caribana (don't ask about the name change cause I don't get it)? A big "W" to the forehead for that one.
The hair has been clipped again, and the box office for follicle fornication is now open... next caller...
Looking over August, maybe it's a good thing I'm not working (yeah, cause having no money coming in is soo cool... let's all try it now!!). Visitors, travelling, more visitors, more travelling, more visitors, concerts, visitors vicariously..., probably some more visitors... let's just say it's all pretty busy. And I still havn't received my summons for when I'm supposed to go back to court for the whole busted-into car thing (it was perpetrated upon me, not me the perpitrator... this time...)
bleh... sun.
who is
Graig Kent at 8:12 AM?
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