Like a boss on a boat

Those of you who know me know I like to laugh.

Andy Samberg doesn't know me but he sure does know how to make me laugh.

Here are two oldie-but-goodies from Lonely Island to get your work week rollin': "Like a Boss" and "On a Boat."

"Like a Boss*" features two very funny -- and offensive -- dudes: Andy Samberg and Seth Rogan.

Caution: It's almost as catchy as it is funny. You might get it stuck in your head, and you might have to fight the urge to finish your sentences with "like a boss" after watching it.



"On a Boat**" is just as funny but not quite as vulgar. Basically it's just Andy on a boat*** with Akiva Schaffer and T-Pain.

I think I find it funnier than most people because this of this random dude I encountered at Lavo one night. His business card is hands down THE funniest one I've ever seen in my entire life (sorry I don't have it with me; I'd love to include a pic to show y'all just how glorious it is). At any rate, he added me on Facebook and I OK'd the request just because his FB profile pic (that's it, to the right) is of HIM on a BOAT -- and therefore solidified his spot as "cheesiest guy I've met in Vegas" -- and everyone knows Vegas is one of the cheesiest (while simultaneously coolest) places on Earth.

Hope you enjoy the video. As Schaffer says, "This isn't Seaworld, this is as real as it gets."

Other favorite moments include Samberg's mentioning of "flippy floppies" and Schaffer's dolphin-riding. The best line, though, goes to T-Pain: "Believe me when I say I fu©ked the mermaid."

Once again: Enjoy.



*course subject matter, language and images.
**course language.
***it's not a boat, it's a yacht.

Let them have cake...

A few months back my friend Chantal asked me to make the cake for her wedding.

Now I realize that it comes as a surprise to many of you that I actually know how to bake -- but I do, dammit. Had I ever worked with fondant icing before? No... and I had never made a tiered cake, either.

But I wasn't about to let such minor details get in the way.

I ordered the CakeLove cookbook, did some online research, watched a cake decorating video on YouTube, then gave it my best shot.

(Originally I told myself I'd do a few dry practice runs, but those never happened.)

Yes, there were a few anxious moments but after the smoke cleared (note: there was no actual smoke) the legions of doubters were ultimately silenced.

It wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination but have to admit the cake turned out pretty good: It was tasty as heck and didn't look like it had been hit by a bus or dropped from a third floor window, either.

In fact, my handiwork was even declared "best wedding cake ever" by a large and independent collection of unsolicited wedding-goers -- which made the whole process totally worth it.

If I was a cake inspector, I'd give it a 90%, or 4.5 stars out of a possible five, depending on the grading system.

Bill McConnell told me in 8th grade home ec that I'll "make a good woman some day." Well, if cake-baking is a requirement of said status, it appears that, at the ripe old age of 26, I may finally be on my way.

At any rate, here's the example that I modeled my design after (top left), the final product (bottom left), and plan B (the obvious right) which was ultimately deemed unnecessary:

I know I'm home when...

I'm home, i.e. in Canada, for a friend's wedding right now.

I often forget how different life in the U.S. is compared to what it's like back where I grew up. From the surface the two countries seem very similar but whenever I return home for a visit it never takes long before I'm be reminded of just how different the two countries are .

I'm not going to get all heavy on y'all but here are some of the lighter snapshots from my collection of recent "I know I'm home because..." moments:

1) The guy at the next car had "Superman's Dead" by Our Lady Peace playing on his car stereo. (It was a #1 hit when I was in high school.) Sure, it was probably the radio, but that makes it even more "I know I'm home because..." worthy.

2) My little brother had a hardcover book lying on his bedroom floor: "Winnipeg Jets: A celebration of professional hockey in Winnipeg."

3) It was 22 degrees today (that's, uh, 72 or so) but it might go down to -3 (26F) tomorrow night. Winnipeg is famous for 30 or 40-degree swings in temperature.

4) The street is dotted with recycling bins. Everyone recycles here, and recycling is picked up twice a week while trash only gets picked up once.

5) My mum asks if I'm hungry and assures me, "There are perogies in the fridge."

6) There's City Rye bread on the counter.

7) I walk into the house midway through the afternoon and TSN is on. And they're replaying last night's NHL playoff game.

8) TV commercials are more funny than they are annoying.

9) There's a Saturday morning cartoon show modeled after Bob and Doug MacKenzie a.k.a. the guys from "Strange Brew." Suddenly I have a reason to get up early on Saturday.

10) The tap water (literally) doesn't taste like crap.

11) The air smells like... air should.

12) The gas station sign reads $0.91 -- meaning per litre. (-re, not -er, people.) Sounds cheap but actually works out to $3.44 a gallon.

13) I catch myself talking funny, and not because I'm mispronouncing "out," "about," or "process," or saying "eh."

14) One of the speeches at the wedding I was at was interrupted so the person giving the speech could update the crowd with the latest NHL playoff scores.

15) On my way out of the hotel I passed two people. I knew one of them.

16) Someone asked my dad what his fax number is. He replied, "8674" and didn't need to provide any additional digits or dialing instructions.

Biggest fears of the littlest people

When I was little I was generally only scared of two things: vampires and aliens.

When the lights went out, however, my imagination would sometimes get the better of me.

I'd think there was something -- or someone -- lurking in the closet, or waiting for my tasty little foot to dangle off the edge of my bed.

While I don't have any tangible proof of these creepy creatures, there's no question they were, in fact, there. And waiting for me.

What's more, I swear to gawd there was something -- or, again, someone -- living under the creaky stairs at my grandparents house. I shuddered whenever I had to go downstairs to get something; every time I went I knew there was a chance I'd never get back.

Even today -- when I'm working late at night, especially -- I can get a little freaked out. I think I hear things, I think I can "feel" someone watching me through the windows, or from behind the door.

Did I just hear something?

Exactly.

But I digress.

I recently stumbled across a collection of beautiful pictures depicting common childhood fears: the boogie man under the bed, the monster behind the couch, the goblin under the stairs, and more.

The album can be found here courtesy of kontraband.co.uk.

So it turns out I WASN'T imagining it. Finally, after all these years, we have proof.

Thankfully, though, I managed to evade these bad buys as a little person and now I manage to scare them away on my [grown-up] own.

I could say something cute and cliché about grown-up fears being just as scary, but let's face it: The uncertain economy has nothing on the monster under your bed.

And I've seen far scarier things at the bar.

At least the boogie man has manners: Unlike Captain NoChance, he keeps his distance and doesn't talk your ear off or repeatedly try to buy you a drink.

New media 2.0: time-wasting d-bags

(thanks to TSoligo for this one)

Yuck yuck yuck.

Waking up in Vegas

I wake up in Vegas all the time.

OK, technically I wake up in Henderson -- maybe that explains it.

Either way, I can't help but notice my experiences are nothing like what's shown in the video for Katy Perry's latest god awful single, "Waking Up in Vegas."

While Perry and I both hail from Commonwealth countries, it's painfully obvious that we have nothing in common. Sure, the two of us have the same naughty bits, but that's where the similarities end.

For starters, I don't gamble. I haven't bet a dime since I got here and I don't plan to start throwing my hard-earned money away any time soon.

Perhaps that's why, unlike Perry, I don't often hang out in the high roller suites at the Palms.

And unlike Perry (and Britney Spears and all the rest) I have yet to walk down the aisle here in Sin City. Or anywhere, for that matter. Hell, I haven't even been engaged... Yet. You never know what tomorrow might hold. Or tonight, for that matter -- this is Vegas, after all. Call me optimistic; I call myself romantic. But I digress.

Like the British pop tart, I've been to Fremont many times. But whenever I go it's hillbilly central, not some splashy, flashy scene where elephants and fire-breathers run wild. (Let's face it: the Griffin and DCR are more my speed; even Beauty Bar is too hip for me sometimes.)

I admit, I've done a lot of wacky stuff downtown, but unlike Katy, I've never made out with some guy in a phone booth while dollar bills swirl through the air.

Or made out in a phone booth at all, come to think of it.

Wait. Does Vegas even have public phone booths? I don't think I've seen any. Hmm. Perhaps I should find one; they look like a good time.

At any rate, here's Perry's new video. Turn the sound off and enjoy the all the Vegasisms, including Penn and Teller's cameos.

Does this make me a feminist?

I found this ad simultaneously offensive and arousing.

One one hand, I think it's aggressive, sexist and just plain wrong. Violent, even. One might argue that it borders on sexual harassment.

But the other part of me thinks it's damn sexy.

After thinking about it for a few minutes, I wondered: Have I really been desensitized to the point where I don't find such a blatant display of predatory male dominance totally disgusting?

Apparently I have.

There is no, no, no way an ad like this would fly back home; people would be protesting in the streets and demanding it be removed. But not in Vegas, no sir. Instead, it's par for the course. Just another day on The Strip.

I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

A combination of curiosity and convenience led me to investigate this a little further. That's right, I actually went to this event earlier this week.

I wore pants.

I wasn't sure what to expect, a crowd of half-drunk mid-career professionals talking inappropriately after a few too many Manhattans; a herd of suits with a sprinkling of Samantha Jones-style man eaters here and there; or something altogether different?

Surprisingly -- and thankfully -- it was a very respectable event. The crowd was small, reserved, and responsible. People were drinking tea. No one called me "tutz" or "doll." And there was no grabbing of anyone's goods.

There were, however, very few women in attendance -- and of the few who were there, none were wearing fishnets.

Personally, I was relieved -- though I'm sure the same can't be said for all of the men in attendance.

I'm sure some of them were ready to file a complaint citing false advertising.

This is why gawd (er, Steve Chen, Chad Hurley and Jawed Karim) invented YouTube

It's been a long week. Happy Friday, everyone.

More about the Generation (of) Swine Flu

So much for the swine flu being the newest craze -- turns out it's totally retro.

Here's a Swine Flu PSA from the 70s. Note the lack of "pandemic" references.