wedding crashers

Cara sent me this video a little while back and I just recently watched it.

I fucking love it.

Serious kudos to those two for organizing something so fresh and hilarious. I can only hope that my wedding will be that cool. On top of the dancing, that's got to be the cutest couple on the planet. When the groom busts in with that somersault? Are you kidding me? And the wife's solo entrance makes me want to cry. My wife better be that cool.

Give it a looksy.

assault and pepper

Hey Friends!

I've not been a slack as of late. It was just old Ted Rogers holding our internet signal ransom for several days. Yet, a lot has happened.

I might as well start with last Thursdays show at Call The Office in London.

The night itself was an overall success. Seeing as I don't have Facebook, I never really know who's "attending" and who's not. I'd heard word that many old friends were confirmed guests, and nearly all of them showed! This made for some, well, I'll just say interesting events. Even great friend, past-bandmate, and wonderful human in general Nathan Albion made his appearance. Dan and I used to be in a band with Nathan called Gerald Pessy way back in the day. We also almost won our highschool Battle Of The Bands together after only two weeks of playing our instruments.


The show also went quite well. There's a young and shakey kid doing sound at CTO nowadays, which caused us a bit of sweat. Aparently the show sounded good from the croud. People seemed to respond well to the new material. Even the new-new material (a near remix of an untitled song that had been played at several shows) went off without a hitch. That new version is pretty awesome, and a lot more fun to play, even though I stole the beat from a Josh Ritter album.
I have to mention, the Call The Office stage has heat like no other club. I'd rather play in the desert than feel the lights of that place. I always bring a change of clothes to those shows because, combining the heat with the vigor I play with, always makes for a sweaty performance.

The next morning, after some delicious King's Inn Diner lunch, we made for the road. I drove. Upon arrival, we all split for a Triple S before the show. I got Chippy's, located directly across the steet. If you've never eaten there, and have an appreciation for fish & chips, boot your ass over there as soon as possible. We then showed up for sound check.


I'll be honest, and I've said before, Lee's Palace scares the shit out of me. It's a massive venue that has seen some of the best bands on the planet play since before you were born. The walls of the place just ache with history. Not only is it one of the most notorious, but the best sounding clubs in the city. So naturally it was a bit nerve-racking packing our gear in it's hollow state. All of the bands were cool, except the bill didn't have any flow whatsoever.

The order went as follows: college funk, hue, hip-hop, then metal. Goofy.

We were rushed going on, seeing as the previous band ran late. I was literally still tightening my stands while Darcy tinkered the opening chords of our set. A great amount of people showed up, except we didn't make any money because they were all on the guestlist haha. S'all good. We payed for our gas money the night before.

Afterward we all hit Dance Cave and danced uncontrollably. Kevin Black and I jammed so fucking hard to Arcade Fire. I'm pretty sure we created our own dance circle in the middle of the floor just because nobody wanted to be hit by our flailing limbs. Atta boy. Another story that deserves some attention is actually quite funny. Minutes before we left after packing our gear, a fight broke out only a few feet from us. The cops showed up, and one of the guys who sucker-punched another dude approached us and told him to take his wallet. We said no, so he kicked it under our van. All I did for the next ten minutes was stare at the guy while he was being questioned by the cops. But why would he do this? It's simple really. The oldest in the book.

See, when a cop questions you for something illegal, all you really need to do is chuck your wallet away. That way, upon questioning, you can make up any address you feel like and the cops would be none the wiser. You'll never recieve a ticket and never pay a fine.

The punchers girlfriend noticed me eyeing him up and pleeded with me to not rat him out. To be honest, the only reason I didn't was because Darcy was driving and didn't want to get involved. Lucky him, because I was drunk and wanted justice. The most funny part is, she was pleeding with me as I was sitting in a van full of people, and after I continued to shove everything she said to the ground, my only reply to her was:

"Na na na na na na na na, BATMAN!!!"

We all had a good laugh at her expense right then and there.

I went home after that and slept. Then! Just when life couldn't get any better! I awoke to tickets to that afternoons Jays game against the Kansas City Royals! My good friend Andrew Siu and his lovely girlfriend treated Blair and I to some free tickets behind the plate. That was fucking awesome. I don't really have any good stories about that, except that I would shout any obscenity Andrew asked me to, including telling Vernon Wells to "EARN THAT 20 MILL!!!" when he was up to bat. He then struck out.

A week later, Darcy and I attended the annual Alzheimer's Tournament at The Highland in London. This was our fourth year playing, and easily the most hilarious yet. I won't go into too much detail, because I have a tonne of pics and video from that day, which I will post hopefully as soon as my sister sends them. You're in for some hilarity.

That same night a whole whack of us went out to Raygun and party-hardy'd, until we eventually ended up at Caitlin's place, free-styling and putting back drinks until the sun came up. Those freestyle tapes exist somewhere and I'll see what I can do to retrieve them.


Nowadays I've just been working, doing laundry, rehearsing, recording, painting, photographing, working on a website, Luminato, watching playoff basketball with K, walking, organizing, and enjoying what has been one of the best summers in years. My life seems to be one hectic, fantastic moment after another.

heidi wore clogs, and so do you

So last night, Meme, Jess and I went to go see Doves.
I've been really into their latest album Kingdom Of Rust lately, so I had to see this material done live.
The show was fantastic, but this is not what I'm here to talk about.

After moving to the front (which is the best bonus to seeing shows with small, cute girls), we began to get our dance on and the tunes were bumping. All of a sudden, I could feel myself being stepping on, and stepping on someones foot. I didn't care because everyone was having a good time and this is, presumably, what happens at shows. Not to this guy."Hey man, you're stepping on my feet. This is my spot."

"What?"

"I said this is my spot. I've been here for the past ten minutes."

"So?"

It turns out that there was a blubbering vagina standing behind me. Some Dexter-Zero was chewing me out for dancing on his toes.

Oh, I'm sorry hun, I've never slow danced before.

First off, who comes to a rock concert, moves to the very front, and stakes a claim amongst hundreds of people? Your spot? Who the fuck are you?! Yukon Cornelius? Maybe if he had a pick axe, monster beard and a hunger for gold- then I would have taken him seriously

Secondly, how can you come to a show and not expect to get your feet stepped on? I could understand if he wasn't dancing and I was just causing a scene, but he was, as was everyone else. I've gone to shows with perfectly white Stan II's on, moshed for two hours, then proudly gone home with someone elses blood and dirt covering them. A real musical experience should be about passion, love, appreciation, and expression. Don't just stand there like a paper napkin. What a fucking pussy. My buzz was killed by this Joe-PC. Grow some balls for gods sake.


One thing that I know in life is that the world is full of uptight, unenlightened, anxious, high-strung matters of waste that we call "the public". People are no longer passionate about anything, and are so afraid to express themselves that they retain mid-life Osteoporosis just from sucking their boss' dick or from nodding "yes" so much every day.

People like this just make me want to stick fireworks in their pants, just so they'll feel something for once. They have pickles so far up their asses that even their breath smells like dill. I have only one piece of advice for these people: Verbally disagree with someone at least once a day. After a few weeks, you'll sleep sounder. I promise. Why? Because it's one of the many free things in life that are good for you. I'll jump back to that topic at a later date when I have more examples.

Am I out of line? You're damn right I'm not. Let's eat some pickles.

everyone sit down. it's sharing time.

Let me fill you in on a little story of mine.

Flat out, when I was a kid I was fascinated with penises (or the correct multiple penis term: penae), particularly my own. I found them so interesting. My sister didn't have one, but my brother and dad did. Old guys had weird ones, and so did dogs. They shrank and grew throughout the day, mostly whether or not it was bath time. I would constantly crack jokes about how I had the biggest dick in the family. I would present this theory using any lock on a door, and it went a little something like this:

I would turn it out from the door a little and say
"Miiiiike......huhuhuhu"
then a little more and say,
"Daaaaaaad.....huhuhu"
and then crank the thing full out and scream
"and meeeeeeee! hahahahahah"

My mom still thinks that's funny shit, and so do I. I was a special kid.

Yet what I am most famous for is called "The Dance of the Dinkies"

The Dance of the Dinkies was more like my "Fuck whatever I'm doing right now, it's time to make grandma laugh" ritual. All it really consisted of was me stripping butt-naked, run into a room, scream "DANCE OF THE DINKIES!!!", and proceed to swing my dick around and have a full-body dance freak-out. Everyone thought it was hilarious, but I'd usually get chased around by my mom with a wooden spoon because it wasn't the most polite thing to do when we had company over.

It mostly looked like this, except totally naked and with much more enthusiasm, if you can imagine.

I think that's enough sharing for today. Dismissed.

the wild

Lately, after several large-party hangout scenarios, I've continued to unravel things that I truly stand for, and against. Par example:

Within the past few years, I've noticed somewhat of a rapid resurgence in the use of racial slurs and general racially-charged name calling that I thought was on its way out with our grandparents. Now, I have tried to understand this phenomenon (and trust me, it is) from many points of view, including the one about how racism is not as serious as it once was, making it a more widely accepted brand of comedy. However, like anything, there are limits. I hear and see these same limits being pushed every day. I don't think I've ever felt as uncomfortable as I have over the past year about these issues. I was raised in a home where discrimination was not even a frame of mind and not once did I ever hear my parents or siblings crack a joke surrounding ones race, except for the one about bad Asian drivers when my sister got in a car accident.

Now, I know these jokes are delivered with harmless intentions by most of today's youth, but this exact frame of mind has held racism a priority amongst modern cultural dilemmas for decades. It is something that I seriously will not stand for and have never found amusing. For instance, just the other night I said to someone "If I had a gun I'd shoot your fucking dick off," after said person referred to a young black girl as "darky". Disgusting. I can only take so much more of it.

Another serious dilemma that I won't stand for is chauvinistic behavior towards women. This is another issue that should have been out the door a long, long time ago. The fact that such disgusting behavior is still present amongst many "gentlemen" makes my fucking blood boil. Which brings me to my next point...

The humiliation of jocks. This is the stuff of my dreams. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than keeping that American Eagle frown right-side down. As far as I'm concerned, most of these unenlightened zeroes take up far too much space on this continent and serve no purpose other than keeping the beer and khaki industries afloat. So guys, a little heads up from old Andy: I will take your girl aside, dance the shit out of her, and give her right back like a true gent while you grip your pint and wonder how legs move like that. I will smile, and probably wink at you, and you won't like it.

But what would motivate an individual to do such things? Simply put - revenge. I was fortunate enough to attend multiple schools that were full of meat-heads in the making. We all know the type: bullies, goons, cooliosos, jocks, thugs, dickheads. The kind of guys that will end up snorting blow out of their polished briefcases before going home to measure their dicks in front of the mirror before watching the big game or cheat on their wives. These are the guys that I like to mess with strictly for my own personal gain, and I really don't see anything wrong with that.

LG

This video honestly kills me.

The other day Bike and I were down in the studio working on some stuff. He was editing some video on my Mac and I was working on a new piece.
He'd noticed I'd been jiving to some Hey Darcy! pretty hard in the basement and decided to shoot a video to see if he could catch my dancing on film. Surely enough, about ten seconds after pressing record, some goofy dance emerges and is forever captured on film.
Maybe it was the joy of being reunited with my favorite sweater, or maybe it was my fancy drumming on that album. Either way, it's funny as hell.

there's always one!

And it's true: there is always one song that comes out during summer that kicks undeniable ass.

Electric Feel by MGMT

Damn, this song is good.

Every summer, one single comes out that just has that certain something about it. We all know the criteria: nice tempo, great groove, catchy, non distracting lyrics, and replayability. Come to think of it, it's comparable to great sex and may even make you want to have it.

It's one of those tracks that makes any songwriter or musician throw down their gloves and say, "Yep, you won this one." As ridiculous and narrow-minded as that sounds, it's just fucking true. In fact, you should probably be listening to this song while reading this.

www.myspace.com/mgmt

This song just has that groove that makes you scrunch up your face and say Daaaammn, all while your shoulders, hips, and feet move in perfect unison. It's nostalgic to Simply Red's Sunrise, which makes me move in quite similar ways. The production and mixing is brilliant. The vocals and drums are as loud as all hell (which they should be), it's soaked in reverb, and combines some sort of guitar/keyboard/bass line that I can't seem to wrap my head around. The formula is easy simple enough that tweeners to geezers can get down to it.

I find myself dancing to it at work, even though it's never played. My feet tap, and I mouth the words when my back is turned to people. It's the only good thing that Mtv is playing nowadays, not that I'm ever watching. And what's with Mtv playing only short clips of music videos? Just when you get into it, it's commercial time. I still don't understand.

Either way, listen to the track. Hell, the video is even good: An organic party-orgy set in the amazon with animals backing the band and random glimpses of forties? That can't miss. Oh, and if you don't like it, listen to it the next day, and then the next. I didn't like it much the first time I heard it, now I listen to it several times a day. Enjoy.