Best News I've Heard This Week

Gérard Depardieu has announced he's retiring from acting.

It's about fucking time.

Am I the only one who hates this guy?

Broke Down Engine

I take transit everyday, and there's something that really bothers me. We all know that everyone prefers to take one of the 2 seat sections all to themselves and not have to share. But we do relunctantly sit beside another person if one seat is full and there is nowhere else to sit. This is what I'm talking about, we all have to do that, sit next to a stranger.

Personally I don't really pay any attention to who I'm sitting down beside, but I think a lot of people do. The stop I get on the bus at is before that particular bus picks up most of its passengers so I almost always get one of those 2 seat sections to myself. I sit by the window.

There is a vacant seat beside me each day. I find that people always go past me and take other seats beside other people before they resort sitting next to me.

And I take it personally every time.

I think they either believe me to be scary, creepy or smelly. I don't get it. Am I that bad of a bus passenger? I think maybe it's because I get on the bus at 6:30am most days and I am sleepy and cranky. But isn't everybody? Who wants to be up that early?

The point is, it hurts my feelings when no one sits beside me.

But when people do sit beside me it pisses me off because they're taking up my god damn space. They always try to get part of my seat.

Stealing beer is my thing

I should stop drinking so much that I projectile vomit blood.

It's the nwe youear bitches!

How do you like that eh? I am a lot drunker thaen I outhgta be, but I am. Fuck you. I like beer. ANd are you telling me that if there wasn't 2 pitchers of berf full when they told you they weere locking up that you wouldn't down it? fuck that yes you would. bitrhces.

Whateves. I got class at 8am. Woo fucking hoo. I don't give le shits. Pete morelli is good times. Dock currie is good times. Mike hignston is good times. I am drunk still friends.

what do you want from me? fuck youoooo. wooo. waldo.


btiches aint shit.

P.S.

Friends,

I am having a good week. Really.

Thanks for asking.

Love, Warren

Lounge

Similar to Mike's most recent entry about him discovering he hates taking philosophy, I have discovered I hate taking photography as a school subject. I have only ever enjoyed one class I took for it, and that was a month long class at Ryerson where they let us do whatever the hell we wanted. But the SFU course I took, and all this Langara business is just rechid.

It honestly makes me feel too good to be there. That shouldn't make sense. I am learning a fair bit, most of which I didn't know. But still, I feel like I'm better than everyone else in the course at photography. It's just a natural feeling that I get. I hate doing the assignments. They are the most generic, painstaking, technical assignments anyone could ever think of. And I know I can produce far more interesting photographs so it makes me feel like I'm better than everyone who is participating in the assignments. But we are all assigned the same thing.

We have to be very meticulous in our note-taking, which I'm not opposed to, but if we don't take notes in the style our teacher wants, we will do poorly. We are supposed to write-up the assignments in a fashion so that we could easily repeat the assignment again, but if the teacher doesn't like our write up, we do poorly. I'm very brief in my note taking and I can usually (I stress usually) decipher my notes and re-create something I've done before. But if the teacher can't figure it out, then I will fail. That is bullshit. And that's a major thing I don't like about this course.

Yes we are being trained to be a professional photographer, but I would think I am going to be one on my own terms, I am not being turned into a professional photog robot who does everything Langara Style. Fuck that.

I AM NOT A ROBOT, MOM AND DAD. YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

Gary

The name "Gary" has been a favourite of mine for some time. Not the kind of favourite name that I would like to use for my own children, but the kind of name associate with people that I deam to be interesting in a ridiculous sort of way.

When I think of Gary, and the person that the name represents, I think that the following conditions must be met:

-His occupation must be plumber. Or some other similar trade position. Construction? Perhaps.
-He must have a beer gut.
-He must have a jovial sense of humour.
-He must be a handy-man around the house. Sort of like Tim Taylor, but not as useless as him. He must be able to accomplish his jobs.
-He must drive an aged, black or red pick-up truck.
-He must be married to a woman who wears stretch jeans.
-He must own a trailer (it doesn't have to be his main home, it can be what he uses for summering)
-Said trailer must be in a trailer park 2/3 of the year.
-He must wear glasses. They can't be stylish.
-He must smoke cheaply priced cigars.

There is a certain image that I have come to associate with Gary, but I also like to know the other requirements are filled. I know of one Gary that I think is the true, defining soul of what it means to be Gary. And that my friends is this man, he is everything a Gary should be:

Return to Castle GreySkull

Photo by Yuanzhu Peter Chen (I found it on Google)

It's "official". I just made up my mind as I was sitting on my couch studying for my mid-term on Monday.

I know it's not surprising for any of you after listening to me talk about Langara for the past 2 months.

But to be honest I'm a little surprised. I thought photo school was for sure what I wanted. I've realized though that if I am ever to be a working professional photographer, I want it to be based on my creative/artistic merit rather than a technical knowledge.

Going to Langara is not going to help me in that respect. I think taking philosophy made me a much more creative person, although I have no idea why. I want to get back to that.

I'm still listening to Neil Young.

Double E

I'm sitting here alone at home. I'm staring at my computer screen. I have checked all my required web pages, but I still refuse to go study. I feel sitting here and listening to Neil Young is a far better use of my time.

I really need to be able to buckle down and do some work. I've found I also have no motivation to do work in my photography course. I have no desire to do well. I think I might even fail out of the class if I chose to stay.

But I'll stick with my Neil Young, and leave with the current lyric of the song I'm listening to:

"This much madness is too much sorrow. It's impossible to make it today."

One of them will be me as a boy

This post has been brought on by my last couple of photo-only posts. And the fact Dock was saddened by the neglected blogs.

I have been very tired this week, partly because of little sleep, partly because of my trying to make up my mind of what to do about school.

The Langara photo program is not what I was expecting, nor what I think I want. I've produced far better and more interesting photos on my own time for the past 2 years. I'm not improving my skill, only increasing my knowledge. These are different in my opinion.

I wouldn't mind having a degree, especially in philosophy. I enjoy the subject and it makes my mind work in a more interesting fashion. The prospect of being involved with The Peak again is also inticing.

I haven't made up my mind yet, but most of you know which way I'm leaning.

My mind has lost its will to be intelligent. Speaking with 18 year olds all day will do that to you.

Today I used the phrases "Oh man I've got a gnarly turtle poke going" and "Dude I was prairie-dogging it all the way to the bathroom"

Yeah. You said it.

Because I sure didn't.

See My City Dead

The Cutting Room

Live at the Mesa Luna on September 28th.

I woke up in Burnaby

I saw a ceiling. I forgot where I was. I looked around and remembered I was at the university. But I forgot why. I looked at my watch, it was 8:30. For some reason I hopped right up and made a B-line for the bus stop. Without really noticing. I was still drunk.

I caught the bus as soon as I got there, and I almost fell over as I walked on. I laughed to the bus driver. I rode the bus to the loop and then headed to McDonald's. After consuming a delightful meal I went back to the bus stop to wait for my bus. The bus was there and the driver was sitting inside. But it was 10 minutes before the bus was scheduled to leave so the driver decided to not let us on.

This irked me and an old man who was also waiting for the bus. We started talking about the weather. To be honest I couldn't understand half of what he said because a) I was still drunk and b) I think he was too.

We started talking about how nice it was that they let us wait outside when it's raining. And then we traded sarcasm about the seriousness of letting passengers on the bus too early. The old man started to get very impatient. He was staring intently at the driver, who was busy consuming her own McDonald's.

Finally she opened the doors, but the old man held me back from getting on and said to the driver "Wow. Wait. Are you SURE we can get on? Is it really ok?"

He then boarded the bus behind me and we took seperate seats. But then he turned to me one last time,

"Cunts. Some have them. Some are them."

2 posts in a couple minutes

Christ Killers?

We From Chicago

It was everything I wanted it to be and more.
Tom Welling is stellar, Selma Blair wears a thong while talking to her son. And then makes breakfast for him. Still in a thong.
This movie didn't like pants.

Sugarless

I was intending on writing a fairly long blog discussing people who have no convictions in their opinions and can't take criticism(i.e. several people at my school). But I'm very tired and need sleep.

So I will wait until tomorrow or the day after.

More Than Meets The Eye

There is a disturbing amount of photos of Optimus Prime toys to be found on Google.

A Whale of A Movie Star

I think this guy is an underrated actor. Really.

Riveting performances across the board.

Full House

The Olsen Twins. Poop. Saget. Penis.

Battle of the LegoBots: The Greatest Story Ever Told

When you have Thanksgiving dinner, you generally expect your memories to be of eating great food with your friends and family. You would probably sit and chat about funny stories and anecdotes, you may even have a few drinks. You generally wouldn't expect to be involved in any kind of an argument or physical fight. Sure there may be a few heated debates on Native Americans, but you generally aren't prepared for a full on BATTLE.

But tonight my friends, a great war was waged. It was the war of the Lego Bots.

The evening started out simple enough, with a few drinks and some nice small talk. But not long into the gathering the great warrior Invulnerable Blastbot arrived. Myself (Ladderbot), Crapbot and Sadbot weren't initially worried by Invulnerable's presence as we figured he was there to enjoy the same food as us. And this proved to be true as dinner was consumed without incident.

However shortly after we had finished eating and were having simple a conversation about videogames and movies, Invulnerable Blastbot started to stir in an uneasy fashion. He grew restless and bored with our meger chit-chat and started to look for a way to amuse himself. Personally I started to grow a little worried as I knew he could only hide under the table for so long before he wanted some form of physical entertainment. And he had eaten all of his shrimp.

Being the Ladderbot, I have the advantage of having a greater range of sight than Crapbot and Sadbot. I was able to peer over the table and sneak a glance of Invulnerable Blastbot plotting out an attack from underneath the dinner cloth. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing, but as soon as I figured out what he was up to; it was too late.

Sadbot was the first to be attacked. This was good strategy on the part of Invulnerable, as Sadbot is weakened by his sensitivity and relunctance to fight. Sadbot tried to outmaneuver Invulnerable Blastbot by using his propeller for some swift side-to-side flying and was successful for a short while. Soon enough though, Invulnerable planted four kill shots into Sadbot's glass of merlot (resting on his frontal board) which sent shards of glass into Sadbot's eyes causing him to crash into the Legobot Junkpile.

This left myself and Crapbot in an all out dogfight with Invulnerable Blastbot. I attacked him several times with my top rung lasers but the problem with this particular Legobot is that he is INVULNERABLE so my shots went relatively unnoticed.

Meanwhile, Crapbot was evading Invulnerable's fire. But the problem with Crapbot is, well, he's crap. And despite his claims that he's the greatest Legobot ever and completely indestructible, we all know he's not. This reality was proven when Invulnerable Blastbot crashed right into Crapbot causing him to smash into several pieces. This was a terrifying sight as I was now the lone target left for Invulnerable Blastbot.

Just as I thought I was to meet my end, Son of Sadbot emerged from the Legobot Junkpile. He diverted the laser fire from Invulnerable allowing me to retreat to the safety of my Taxi-Jet which was parked beside the cranberry sauce. After getting my craft in the air, I returned to the fight to assist Son of Sadbot who was still managing to keep Invulnerable Blastbot's fire at bay.

We continued to fly around each other, exchanging laser fire and increasing ridiculous taunts. Invulnerable Blastbot kept reminding us that he was invulnerable and therefore we could not destroy him. This began to bore myself and Son of Sadbot as we had also proven that Invulnerable Blastbot's accuracy was not enough to defeat us. Suddenly Son of Sadbot stopped flying and simply said "Yeah I think I'm just going to retire now, from this whole Legobot war stuff. Yeah I'm done." And with that, he was gone.

This angered Invulnerable Blastbot who insisted that Son of Sadbot had not retired unscathed (which in actual fact is exactly what happened) but was defeated in battle. This only increased my boredom with the battle, but I decided to make on more pass at Invulnerable Blastbot. I soared over top of him unleashing a fury of laser fire that gave him a bit of a rumble, but oddly enough didn't solve his invulnerability. So I flew behind the mashed potatoes and contemplated my next move.

I figured since there was no way I could defeat Invulnerable Blastbot but I could likely outmaneuver him for quite a long time, the best thing to do would be follow in the footsteps of Son of Sadbot and retire. I flew my Taxijet out one last time and told Invulnerable Blastbot that I grew weary of his boasting and constant reminders that he can't be defeated.
"Ladderbot is retiring" I proclaimed. A look of frustration and pure child-like anger came across his face, but he had no words for me.

I piloted my Taxijet over the remains of Crapbot, whose circuity was still sending out radio transmissions.
"Well whatever I still beat you at Soul Calibur, Blastbot! I beat you like 2 million times!" His ramblings about his superiority continued as I made my way past him, towards my refuelling station just south of the Legobot Junkpile and north of the stuffing.

Invulnerable Blastbot continued to fly around and shoot off his lasers in random directions, and I could hear his cries of his superiority fade as my Taxijet guided me to the joy of retirement. I refueled my craft and continued on to my final destination; the SunnyDaze Relaxation Facility for Legobots at Del Boca Vista.

Dunsmuir & Richards

Photographed today.
I think there was a funeral at the church.

You Are A Runner

Borg

In the past few weeks at my school, I have managed to garner the nickname of "Grandpa". This is mainly because I constantly bug the 18 year olds about the fact that they are 18 and therefor don't know much. For example, they listen to bands like The Used and Greenday. So I go off on that. Mostly in good fun, even though I am serious. But also people think I am bitter at the world. This is because I swear a lot when I'm frustrated.

It doesn't bother me, I just find it interesting. It's interesting to me that these people immediately associate anyone trying to straighten their ways with an elderly figure. I think it's because they're only really used their parents criticizing stuff or something. Most of them are straight of high school, where hardly anyone has the guts to voice their opinions. So I think it is a new experience for them to have people tell them they should do something else. I think they are instantly offended and instictively rebellious. It's amusing to me.

It's not amusing to me when almost every other sentence is giggled at because it has the slightest of sexual conotations.

Example:
Me: "Hey, where do we do it?" (referring to an assignment)
Others: "Teehehehehehehehe. He said 'do it'"

That is really growing old on me fast. I'm not going to pretend I don't do that from time to time, but I like to think I aim for very abstract phrases that aren't really sexual at all.

I'm glad I'm not 18 anymore.
When I'm 24 I'll be glad to not be 21 anymore. And so on.

P.S.
Random, old, self-portrait!

Best. Website. Ever.

My Little Pony

West Side

If you thought the re-mix of The Shining trailer was good, check this out.

I was sad on February 7th

I had forgotten about this shot. I found it today. I like it.
It's 3 years old.

What I like About This Print

I emailed Rick McGrath a little while ago about the whole advertising thing. He hasn't emailed me back. I suppose it doesn't really surprise me, but it would be cool if he sent me a message back with just a tiny shred of advice of how about getting into advertising. Yeah, that's right. I'm going to advertise shit. What.

I went to the Professional Photograprer Association of British Columbia convention in Abbotsford yesterday. I volunteered there as part of my school. For 6 hours we basically just mounted prints on a swivelling board and changed it so the judges in the next room could see them. We also briefly opened wedding albums for them. I didn't mind doing it, but I really didn't like most of the photos there. They were all so very commercial and kind of unoriginal. The few I did like, the judges hated.

It made me realize what kind of standards there are in professional photography, and I definitely still have a more "artsy" sensibility about me when it comes to photography. I can love a photo with technical flaws, but at this convention the slightest and I mean slightest flaw would be critiqued for 10 minutes by the judges. (They seriously could take 20-30 minutes on one photo)

But basically, I'm not sure if I'd ever try to join this association. They really loved portraits that looked like they were taken at Sears. And one of the best black and white portraits I've ever seen barely made it into competition. And it was shot down quickly in the next round. The winning portrait was a heavily photoshopped photo of some woman riding a horse at a ranch. It was lame.

I definitely won't ever submit any photos for competition at these events, because any photo I would deem suitable would almost certainly not be accepted into the competition.

But I got free lunch. So it was worth it.

French Maids?