There's not enough sunscreen in the world

This afternoon I decided to brave the crazy heat and head over to Ward’s Island. I figured it would be nice to get some pictures of the skyline (including our condo) from there and of the Leslie Street spit from the other side. I took the TTC to the ferry terminal and waited for my ride. The Centre Island ferry came and went and I waited with the remaining crowd for the Ward’s Island ferry. I noticed as I waited that I was pretty much the only straight guy waiting. Tons and tons of gay men, mainly couples, but I was definitely in the breeder minority. Strange, I thought, but maybe the gay guys just like Ward’s Island. Whatever.

So the ferry showed up and I climbed aboard. It was hotter than the hubs of hell outside, and standing on the ferry’s deck there was neither shade nor breeze so I waited inside the little cabin and read until we left. The horn sounded and we pulled away from the dock; I checked my watch…leaving a little early. Sweet. Then, around the time that my brain registered that something may be amiss, we made a sharp right turn just out of the dock. I realized my mistake: I had accidentally gotten on the Hanlan’s Point ferry. This was a pain, as I was heading to precisely the other end of the islands than where I was trying to get to. However, it did solve the gay-man-abundance mystery: they were all headed to the clothing optional beach.

Well, there was nothing for it…I decided to walk the 4km to Centre Island. The buff men and their towels went right; I went left, dodging from tree to tree and trying to stay cool. It wasn’t working; the trees are too sparse to provide much shade as you walk, and there was no breeze coming off the water, even as I got around to the southern edge. By the time I made it to the water taxi (I didn’t relish the thought of getting onto the ferry full of hundreds of stroller-wielding families, especially since I was wearing my “I Hate Your Kids” shirt) I was sweating like a pig. I got back to the city, ran to catch a streetcar, caught the subway and on the walk home grabbed a gigantic chocolate/ice concoction at Timothy’s. MUCH better.

Sigh…I guess Ward’s Island will have to wait for another day. Not tomorrow either; it’s supposed to be even warmer.

[tags]toronto islands, ward’s island, centre island, hanlan’s point, nude beach[/tags]


Had a nice, quiet little birthday dinner last night at Fieramosca. Perfect way to end a nice, relaxing birthday: good food, good wine, good friends and perfect patio weather.

Before dinner Nellie took me to Bay Bloor Radio and bought me my birthday present: some outdoor speakers so I can get my music fix on the balcony. Thanks baby!


It’s almost torture to see the film festival lineup announcements appear in my inbox and feed reader. This year I have a course right smack in the middle of festival week, and we leave on vacation immediately after my course ends, so the best we can do this year is one or two films on opening weekend. No frantic schedule-wrangling this year, which is always half the fun.

Next year, when I’m done this freaking MBA, I’m taking a week off and watching 30 films, even if it kills me.

[tags]fieramosca, birthday, tiff07, toronto international film festival[/tags]

11.25 lbs

As of 5:45 this morning (according to my mother; I don’t recall the exact time) I am 32 years old. I have grown by 1900% since then. That’s right…I was 11 pounds, 4oz. Thanks again mom!


I took today off, and am taking the next couple of days off as well. My plan is to do as little as possible for those three days while still keeping my sanity (I have to do something or I’ll utterly lose my mind). A newspaper, an almond croissant, one of my favourite movies (Last Of The Mohicans), a veggie burger, a leisurely crawl through my feeds, a documentary (The Devil’s Miner*), some gadget-y playtime (I managed to make my Zen act as a USB host and pull pictures off my camera by, uh, plugging it in) and some quality time with the cats…not a bad day so far. It’s only gonna get better too: having dinner tonight with CBGB.

I can’t imagine I’ll be able to keep up the sloth thing for two more days. If the weather’s nice I think I’ll head over to the islands tomorrow…maybe see if I can figure out our new wide-angle lens.

*I feel particularly good about having watched this…it’s a Zip movie that’s been sitting on my shelf since March 12. It’s the only substantial thing I plan to accomplish today.

[tags]birthday, last of the mohicans, the devil’s miner, sloth[/tags]

A few more broken limbs and hellish weeks at work should do it

Status du fatblogging:

  • Original weight: 233
  • Weight last week: 229.5
  • Weight this week: 226

Uhhh…ok. Not being able to exercise all week clearly didn’t hurt me as much as not having time to eat normal meals helped me. Still, that’s not sustainable. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to run again once the swelling goes down and I’m in the hard cast.


We’ve eaten two straight meals on the balcony. The weather’s been perfect for it, and now that we can grill things without fear of explosions I think we’ll be out there even more. Nellie popped down to St. Lawrence Market yesterday for some fruit (which we had this morning with breakfast) and some tofu. We heard there was a booth there that makes tofu palatable, so we tried a place called Ying Ying Soy Food. It was actually really good; one type Nellie grilled in bbq sauce, the other was left plain, and both were tasty. Throw in some grilled veggies and bread and a bottle of white…’twas a good night.


One more thing: happy birthday, T-Bone!!

[tags]fatblogging, bbq[/tags]

It was pretty funny when H-Simp punched N-Flan

I’m liking my new blog template. If you notice any bugs (beyond the broken links in the consumption/mp3 widgets in the sidebar; already noticed those ones) let me know.


The Simpsons Movie (imdb | rotten tomatoes): pretty good. Little dopey toward the end, but solid laughs throughout. Much more sophisticated visuals than I’m used to seeing in the show, and humour a little more in the pratfall/timing style of the early seasons than in the more recent absurdist style. Good escapism for sure.


Daily Dose of Imagery has (yet another) very cool shot of downtown Toronto, including our condo. The perspective is misleading; our building (on the far left) is actually dwarfed by the big bank towers).


The whole athlete nickname thing where they use their first initial and the first syllable of their last name (e.g., A-Rod, J-Kidd, T-Mac, etc.) has gone too far. It was already silly when it got to J-Dub, but now that it’s reached Man-Ram, it’s just torn the ass out of the whole thing.

[tags]wordpress templates, simpsons movie, daily dose of imagery, toronto, athlete nicknames, manny ramirez[/tags]

I want off

I left work about 90 minutes ago. I ran down to Volo to meet Nellie and a friend, but the service was so slow I had to cancel my food order. I got plain M&Ms, the first thing I’d eaten since a croissant at 9:30. Now we’re waiting for the Simpson’s movie to start.

I’m not having fun.

[tags]simpsons movie[/tags]

Break. Break.

Earlier tonight a muscle in my forearm cramped, under the splint/wrap. I tore the whole rig off and tried to massage it out. It hurt like bejeezus. I can’t wait for that to happen when I have the hard cast on.


I have three days of vacation coming up next week.  Even though I’ll be in this cast and tied to my blackberry, I can’t fucking wait. I really cannot.

[tags]broken bone, vacation[/tags]

In which I am a sook

Ooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww this hurts. More Advil, please.


Very cool: the Walk Score, which tells you how convenient your neighbourhood is (for walking to things). Our current home scored a very high 80, and our previous place scored a 73. Friends of ours with houses scored 62 and 51 respectively, pretty good considering the suburbs seem to net scores in the 20s.

[From Torontoist]

El snappo


I don’t know what all that stuff up there means, but it’s broken. Slight fracture in the smaller bone in my arm. Less serious than a fracture in the bigger bone, up by the thumb, but they still need to confirm there’s no break there next week. It’s in a soft cast now, but when I go back next week they’ll put it in a hard cast.  Hard cast should last about 6 weeks, so I’ll have to push them to get it off before we go away in September. Don’t want to shlep luggage with a cast on…

[tags]broken wrist[/tags]

How ironic…the one time I want to punch somebody…

I am not a happy man. Nor am I fully functional. While playing basketball tonight, some fuckwit, some asshat we don’t even know or like or want to play with, he does his signature move: he runs into me at full tilt, shoulder first. I go flying (230 pound guys do not fly readily, so you can imagine how hard this smacktard hit me) and land awkwardly on my wrist. I get up and swear at him a bit but keep playing, thinking I just jammed it. After a few seconds, though, I can tell this isn’t just a jam. I can’t dribble the ball. It’s hurt. I get the ball and I’m open so I take the shot. It goes in, but my wrist goes from numbness to searing pain. It’s hurt bad.

I can’t bear the thought of losing or letting this twat think he knocked me out of the game, so I finish, playing with one hand. Playing badly. To make this guy just a little bit more of a shitbag, he won’t play defense…he just cherry picks. So I hang back on offense to guard against that, and make sure to bump him a few times whenever possible. My team picks it up and we win the game. I get my bag and leave. My wrist is swollen as hell. I can’t even open my bottle to pour some cold water on it. Frosty kindly gives me a ride to a major intersection where I can catch a cab. Even getting myself and my gym bag into a taxi using only my left hand is a chore.

Now, as I (very, very slowly) type this with my left hand, my right hand is stuck at a 30 degree angle, pointing toward the floor. Moving a finger hurts. I can’t even pick up my Blackberry, let alone hold it. It’s probably not broken, but it’s clearly not functional. Obviously this is not my summer. I need to find a cave.

The worst part is that I wanted to tell this fuck not to play. We all did. None of us wanted him there, but we were all too nice to say it. If I’d said it my wrist would be fine. So let that be a lesson to you, kids. Never be afraid to tell an asshole that he’s an asshole.


On a sunnier note, my feeds tonight produced excellent examples of irony, balls, wit and whimsy.

And now, back to the pain. ‘Night, everybody.

[tags]wrist injury, basketball, polyps, darjeeling limited[/tags]