My Baby's Gone With The Wind

It's a strange thing to apologize for not blogging.

But, that's what happens.

When you don't post regularly anymore, people start to wonder what happened to you. They ask if you're ok, or complain that they don't have mindless crap to read during their work days.

So, for that, I guess I'm sorry.

I was otherwise occupied.

When you're trying to run a business, work can get quite crazy. It takes priority over all else.

Then add everything else to the mix. Personal stuff. Social stuff. Boys. Events. Stress. Health. Big Macs. It all adds up, and this li'l site o' crap takes a backseat.

During this particular blogging break, we had another fun night at Velvet. 

Big thanks to everyone who came out. It's always fun to party with my favourites. As usual, I'll post when the next night is scheduled so you can start shining your dancing shoes. Cuz surely you're from the 1920's and do that. Shine 'em up nice, now!

After that, I went home.

Good ol' Niagara. I missed it. Needed to be home with the parental-folk for a few days and get away from city stress.

I never quite appreciated where I was from until I moved away. Now going home is like a vacation, and I'm glad for it.

Plus beers, backyards, and bitches are three things that make me happy.

The simple things are usually the best.

Came back to Toronto in time to grab some buddies and go see the JaysFanBoy play a gig with one of his bands.

I'll likely always be a sucker for live shows. One thing I love about Toronto.

But now I'm back in my apartment, buckling down to work and attempting to get into my usual routine.

So you can expect the normal blather to resume once again. My neglected site will see the return of the sarcasm, Daisy photos, and nonsensical rants.

I'm even back to my previous Veronica-hair. No more ginger, and near-black as my cold, cold heart.

I'm back, my lovelies. Let's hug it out.

He Can't Be Wounded Cuz He's Got No Heart

People often make a pretty big deal about the Victoria Day long weekend.

I don't. I rarely pay attention.

But this one proved to be a fairly packed one, so the inevitable picture post has to happen because the (non existent) Canadian Blogger Rulebook says so.

I started the weekend off with a $54 bottle of beer. Unheard of in my world. But our friendly Swedish import, Kim, likes to broaden people's beer horizons.

And what was the beer like? In Matt's words: "like drinking licorice molasses".

The rest of the evening was spent on a balcony 18 (frightening) floors up, or otherwise playing drunken Twister.

Sweet view.

Scary fall.

Next day was perfect for a Jay's game, a stint in the park & a walk through the city.

Toronto is most amazing on gorgeous days like that one.

And a happy birthday to JaysFanBoy.

On Monday, I headed to the east end for some fireworks and baby time.

She is the sweetest, smartest little monkey.

Babies. I want 'em.

...and speaking of 'want'.

I want to see you tomorrow night at Velvet Underground - info here, as posted before.

Cheap drinks, great tunes, fun people. Come & play!

So, happy belated Victoria Day long weekend. Hope you didn't get fireworks in the face.

I Want To Be The Girl With The Most Cake

The Friday before a long weekend calls for some random Masuka questions:

How do you explain the dichotomy of your rock girl persona with your being a normal person? How come you're not all counter-culture with ill-fitting jeans and weird colored hair?

I counter the counter-culture. Although, sometimes my jeans are accidentally ill-fitting and sometimes my hair is a weird colour (it's currently turning red - my hair dresser superwoman will soon be saving me from ginger-land).

Do I have a rock girl persona? That kinda makes me giggle when people say it. I know what you mean, but it's still funny to me. An ex used to call me "rock pig", whatever that implies.

I'm currently blogging this in a White Zombie t-shirt and a towel wrapped around my head. Not really the kinda rock chick image you want dancing on a car in your video (eh, Tawny Kitaen?).

Here I go again on my own... but this bitch won't get off my car.

For me, it's about the tunes, the bands, and the live shows. And, yeah... fine... the collection of band tshirts. But if ever you see me trying too hard to fit into any kind of specific 'culture', please... smack me. 

You can dress me in a suit and ask me to be polite, but it doesn't mean I won't be headbanging and screaming an hour later, while messaging my guitar teacher to teach me a Faith No More song so I can pretend to be awesome.

That's not a persona. It's more like a sad, sad disorder.

And hey, didn't you used to be in a band? Would there be online evidence of your front-woman leading antics?

Hahahahaha... no. I keep many secrets from the interweb. My antics are better left hidden.

Or burned and buried.

Only the bitch knows my secrets.

You're all better off not knowing.
 
Have an excellent long weekend, my rockpigs.

The Space Between Us Is As Boundless As The Dark

I've been a bad, bad blogger-bitch as of late.

Bad only due to the fact that I haven't been doing my usual amount of blogging. I've been keeping busy with work, and a social life that I haven't bothered to document. Imagine that.

However, Masuka requested a post. Specifically a Daisy post. And since Daisy is pretty much a part of almost everything I do, here's a brief picture post of some random day-in-the-life kinda junk:

Dogsitting my Jack.

Dog park.

"Business" meeting.

Acrobatic pigdog at (where else?) the dog park.

Eyeballs 'n sunshine.

Uh.... the dogpark. You guessed it.

Tough day at the office.

I find many purposes for booze.

Deep thoughts.

Daisy and a daisy. Whoa.

Considered yourself updated. Dogs, booze, 'n work. Enthralling, non?

....non.

What's So Amazing That Keeps Us Star-Gazing?

It's Mother's Day. A day all about the awesomeness of moms, and all things mom-related.

Like songs, for example.

There are a few mom-titled songs that I love to belt out and pretend no one can hear me (but they can. My sincerest apologies, neighbours). And I do it often.

One example... Danzig - Mother:


I'm certain that if any dude (aside from Glenn Danzig) decided to sing this to my parents with the intended meaning, they would immediately be belted in the face. But oh, how I love the tune.

There's also this mother-related song by Tracey Bonham. Sitting here in the apartment where I live in alone in a city different than my parents, some of it makes sense.

I like to yell this song. A lot.

Tracey Bonham - Mother Mother:


And there have been a few times that the title of this one has been completely appropriate. Like when I moved back to Niagara for a year because things got a little... rough. My mom was super supportive and awesome.

So Ozzy's song wasn't about his mom, and it wasn't exactly a happy one. Shhh, it still fits the current theme.

Ozzy - Mama, I'm Comin' Home:


But, y'see... my mom doesn't love these songs. And today is about her and all moms. I realize that there are many, many songs that mention mothers, but would my mom be happy to hear them? Would they mean anything to her?

Probably not.

So, the right song for my mom would have to be one that I know she loves. One she made sure her daughters loved. In fact, it's one that I recently printed out lyrics to, and framed on my wall.

Because it's our song:


Happy Mother's Day, mom. Love you lots.

And Happy Mother's Day to everyone else's mom, or mom-like person in their life.

They're the rainbow connections, after all.

I'm A Thief, I'm A Liar. There's My Church, I Sing In The Choir.

Open up your calendars. Go to May 25th. Enter the following words: "Good friggin' times w/ Kris at Velvet Underground for Full Card Friday".

Perfect. You're learning, my grasshoppers.

Yep, we're back at it again.

DJ Bingo Bob (known to the mere mortals as Bob Willette) will be spinning the tunes that make me freak out in the best way possible. So, please... come freak out with me.

All the info is here. Click 'attending' to get on guestlist with no cover (or message me if you are Facebook-abstinent). And bottles of 50 are 4 bucks, so you can praise the Labatt gods with the cover cash you saved. Boom.

It's always a good time.

I have photo evidence of such things.

And if the promises of 'superfantasticgoodtimes' aren't enough to convince you, I will also be giving out high fives and compliments on your shoe selection.

A win/win for everyone.



See ya on May 25th!

Find Me Sittin' By Myself, No Excuses That I Know

When I came online this morning, I planned to write some kind of general music-related post as I do. But a quick check to my Formsping changed my mind. This question was waiting there for me:

'With all your posts and tweets about loving beer do you ever worry that people will think you have a drinking problem?'

Until this question, no. I never really worried about that.

Yeah, I like Cinquante. So?

You're absolutely right. I post a lot about beer, I tweet a lot about beer, I talk a lot about beer. It's no secret - I love beer. We're close friends. But this kinda love is all about moderation. If I've given some type of false impression that I'm drunk every day, then I apologize.

Actually, no... apologize is the wrong word. I have absolutely nothing to apologize for.

I like rye too... alert the police.

Drinking issues aren't a joke to me, and they shouldn't be to anyone else. I've known a few people in my life with alcohol problems (whether they admit them or not), and dealing with those consequences has been enough to keep myself in check. I don't sit in my apartment every night, drinking alone. If I ever do, I may randomly have one beer on the couch after a particularly taxing day. When I go out, yup - I drink beer. And I enjoy it. But again, it doesn't mean that I'm shit-faced every night or need to drink to get through a day. That could not be further from the truth.

Having a few beers sometimes doesn't make me a monster, nor does it make me an alcoholic.

So, no. I don't worry that people will think I have a drinking problem. And I also don't worry that my constant talk of Big Macs and poutine will cause anyone to worry that I'm obese. Those are very real things to those who suffer from them.

I'm just a regular chick who likes regular things.

Just friends.

I do love beer... but I give it space, so it can love me back.

And this is why we have a healthy relationship.

Cheers!

Fifteen Blows To Your Mind

Some days I can't quite wrap my head around how the internet has changed absolutely everything, especially our relationships with each other.

The main culprit may be what we consider "social media", but it's really the whole dang interweb. I mean this in a very good way... and a very bad way. Think (if you can remember that far back) about how things were before we were all online. How did you talk to people? How did you meet them? How did you date, stay in touch, and learn about a person?

Ah, I remember those offline days. Vaguely.

Now, I love the internet. I truly do. So don't get me wrong... but sometimes it makes me want to pull my hair out. The problem is that you can't avoid things anymore. When there are things you don't want to read, pictures you don't want to see, or information and people you'd rather stay away from, it can be very hard to block it all out of your life.

The internet and social media have made a lot of things tough. Breakups are more painful and difficult. Relationships can be ruined by what is considered 'online cheating'. It's easier than ever for others to attempt to assume your identity, or copy certain things you do (this one I know all too well). For those reasons alone there are days that I hate the ol' web; the days when it makes me sick to my stomach and want to live in a cave, off the grid completely.

We could hack a life offline. Right?

On the other hand... without it, you wouldn't be reading this. There would be no Shambled Ramblings. The MediaHaus wouldn't exist as it does because most of it is highly internet-based, especially social media. I wouldn't have an easy way to update my friends and family at the same time, or stay in contact like I currently do. I would have missed out on a lot of amazing connections and friends I've made, not to mention some wonderful opportunities. Hell... I likely would have never had certain serious relationships, because I communicate and open up better in writing than I do in person (yes, it annoys everyone).

And online banking? That stuff is the tits! Why would I want to live without that?!

So the internet is pretty goshdarn awesome, even on the days it's horrible. I guess that's the bottom line to this ramble of a blog post. For the most part, the positives outweigh the seemingly brutal negatives.

But that doesn't stop me from wanting to completely disconnect sometimes.

Maybe one day...

Long Legs & Burgundy Lips

It's no secret that I often drop the ball when it comes to blog fodder for this damn site. And when I do, there are two other familiar subjects who pick it up for me. One is Daisy. The other is Masuka.

People often comment to me about both of them; they each have their share of fans.

But today is not about Daisy.

Today is about a dude who is known for his pervy perviness, his love of boobs, and his ability to turn anything into a dirty comment. Gotta love him for all that. And I truly do.

But he's also a great guy, an amazing and supportive friend, and a crazy talented producer.

So, everyone join me in wishing Masuka a happy birthday.






Happy birthday, dude! Yer old! (And awesome.)

[Not to forget my dearest lady Leah, today is her birthday as well... all the things I wrote in this old 'Leah Bday' post still stand. Except maybe her age. HA!]

Cuz Everyday Is Halloween

Saturday was Halloween.

Ok, so it was Half Halloween. Cuz why should Halloween only happen once a year? That's just crazytalk.

And so, there was a Half Halloween party at the Firkin on King, complete with karaoke.

I left my costume to the last minute, because that's what I do. But in the end, it became pretty easy.

The two dudes in my Half-oween posse went as half of the awesome Channel 4 News Team:

Brian Fantana/ Ron Burgundy (yes, he was both).

And Brick Tamland, complete with banana.

And so, my costume was easy.

I was Lamp.

Papa Burgs wore suits so fine, they made Sinatra look like a hobo.

Where'd you get your costume? The Toilet Store?

Brick also loves banana.

This just in: Rye is delicious.

And that is a Hannah Montana microphone. Only the best for this team.

Ever seen a lamp karaoke?

How about a lamp karaoke-ing with a banana?

Oh, the potassium. 

 

This shit is bananas.

It would be inappropriate for the Channel 4 News Team to not sing Afternoon Delight. And so they did. And it was glorious.

Super duper, Team! 

Can't pay homage to the Leg Lamp without the fishnets.

Hey, look! It's Chris!

Because it's a small world after all, my friends.

Happy Half Halloween!