J’aime L’Onion. This week’s edition was especially strong:

• CIA Realizes It’s Been Using Black Highlighters All These Years
• Impersonal Trainer Couldn’t Give A Fuck What You Do With Those Free Weights
• RIAA Bans Telling Friends About Songs

T-Bone said last night she’d never read The Onion, which I find sad. How depressing that someone could go through life without reading classic groundbreaking articles like “Nation’s Porn Stars Demand To Be Fucked Harder” and “Eight Pound Man Removed From Woman’s Vagina“.

All dumb things must come to an end.

Just got home from basketball. The stinking has resumed. My feet don’t hurt, I’m not sore at all, there’re no little cuts and scratches on my arms, and I’m not realy tired. But I did re-sprain my middle finger.

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The Canadiens, not surprisingly, got their asses handed to them by the Senators tonight. And I think I’m in trouble in my pool.

Zip seems to have put a processing centre in Mississauga (immediately to the west of Toronto, for those who aren’t local) which means my movies are getting there and back MUCH faster. It used to be 3 days each way, but now they’re receiving my envelopes the day after I send them, and I receive my new movie the following day.

But they *still* won’t send me season 2 of Arrested Development.

Argh. This tooth wasn’t bothering me until last week when my dentist put in a new filling. Now every time I drink something cold: shooting pain. If it doesn’t get better in a few days I’ll have to go back and get more shit done. I’m sure this is the tactic…destroy filling that works perfectly well, charge $300 to put in shitty filling, wait one week, charge enormous amounts for root canal. I can’t wait.

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Questionable Content started gettin’ gooooood yesterday. I guess Jeph decided #500 was a good place to start the drama. I feel like I’m watching a soap opera in 24-hour time lapse.

If someone tells you The Postman Always Rings Twice (imdb | rotten tomatoes) is a good movie, don’t believe them. The 1981 version anyway; I can’t speak for the 1946 version.

My WM3 shirt (a birthday gift from T-Bone & Stanzi) has arrived. Now I have to find the right occasion to wear it. A rally in support of the death penalty perhaps? Tipper Gore appreciation night? Just-say-no-to-Metallica club night?

My wife has drunk the koolaid. She’s now blogging about one of her favourite subjects: our condo.

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People still use MapQuest?

Friday night we went to see Syriana (imdb | rotten tomatoes), and we loved it. Complex enough to make you think (and, evidently, so complex that the girl next to us had to have her boyfriend explain what was going on every 30 seconds…and not in a whispery voice either) and dramatic enough to be entertaining throughout. I’ll be buying this one, or at least renting it, so that I can watch it again and pick out details that I’m sure I missed the first time through. Not as sweeping in scope as Traffic was, but infinitely better than most of the crap that cycles through movie theatres nowadays.

Yesterday Nellie rented Mad Hot Ballroom (imdb | rotten tomatoes) and the remake of Fever Pitch (imdb | rotten tomatoes), both of which I kind of half watched while doing work on the couch with my headphones on. I got the visuals of Drew Barrymore, and I don’t feel robbed by missing the rest.

Last night, for the second time in two weeks, the Leafs beat the Canadiens in overtime after a questionable penalty call — and when you have a 4-on-3 power play, it’s pretty tough to not score.

I’ll say this for Pat Quinn: he’s done a masterful job of learning how to manipulate the referees. It’s a bit like how the Republicans have operated for the past 20 years…you play the victim at all times, always claiming hardship and discrimination, when in fact you’re the team who fights the dirtiest. Referees, being human, know that if a few of their calls go against the Leafs they’ll hear about it non-stop from Quinn, the players, and every 24-hour sports channel & talk radio show on the dial for the next 24-48 hours.

The really frustrating thing is that the game shouldn’t have been tied 3-3 anyway; the referees blew a call earlier in the game that negated a legal Montreal goal (in fact, the goal should have stood and there should’ve been a penalty called against the Leafs, but neither happened). That the referees just handed the Leafs a power play in OT only rubbed salt in the wound

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I screwed up in my hockey pool. I dropped the wrong player when adding some insurance on the blueline, and PC (who’s well behind me but the only person in striking distance) caught me and grabbed the guy. I was stupid & sloppy, and it cost me one of the best defensemen in the league. Argh.

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While I should be starting economics by now, I’m still finishing up the IT course. We have to write up a paper that expands on the presentation we gave ten days ago. While I don’t relish the workload that comes along with economics, I am kind of anxious to get started on it. It’s interesting enough, and more of a challenge than the IT course.

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Nellie’s off to the ballet today with CB. All the power to her. I can handle all the art house films and pretentious indie music in the world, but the idea of the ballet just doesn’t appeal.