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The Annekenstein Monster - Comedic performer Rob "Annekenstein" MacDonald comments on just about everything. pop
(Added: 11-Jul-2004 Hits: 771 Rating: 6.88 Votes: 26) Rate It

  • Pipe Wrench Fight!
    This might be the best thing ever: A version of A-Ha's "Take On Me", but with lyrics that fit the action on screen.
  • Here Comes Chimp!!
    Grahpic Design by the amazing Laura O'BrienChimp Logo by Russell Stewart (also amazing)"THUNDERCRACK!" IS ON ITS WAY - NOV 18Track Listing:1. The Living End2. Boy Likes Girl3. Nectar4. Killer Bees5. So Exquisite Harbour6. Love Song for David Arquette7. Tonight (Alright)8....
  • Hole In The Wall - It's Not Gay Porn
    FOX has a new show this season, called "Hole In The Wall". If you haven't seen it, check it out immediately. And by "immediately" I mean "never".What a terrible, boring show. Here's the concept: There are two teams of three....
  • Final 2 Sketch22
    Tonight and Saturday night are the final two Sketch22 performances for this season. Maybe forever?Come see the fun, at The Guild.
  • So, I watched "King of Kong - Fistful of Quarters"...
    I hadn't heard much about this documentary, other than it being a doc about a couple of guys who are good at playing Donkey Kong. Hearing that little bit about it, I went "meh" even though it was getting good...

Truths and Half Truths - Author, playwright, actor, nationally-syndicated TV and radio commentator Nils Ling. pop
(Added: 9-Jul-2004 Hits: 583 Rating: 1.50 Votes: 2) Rate It

  • Tue., October 7th, So, That Went Well
    When Allison was in elementary school, she was in a string orchestra called the Singing Strings. Shortly after she joined the orchestra, the conductor - John Clement, who became a mentor to Allison (and many others) - passed out music...
  • Tue., September 23rd, First Glimpse
    Still surrounded by family, so no time for a full post. But I wanted you to see my little girl on her big, big day ...It went spectacularly well, and I'll have much more to say about it very soon....

Glamor Girl Gone Bad - Funny blog from "Cool Girl".
(Added: 1-Dec-2004 Hits: 551 Rating: 8.80 Votes: 5) Rate It

  • So Sad
    Well, I guess a tanning bed isn't gonna fix this.

    The Boy got a call yesterday morning from Doctor X. Could he attend the office, for a "talk"?

    This does not happen when the news is good.

    And the news was not good. Not good at all.

    His Dad is full of cancer. They think it started in the pancreas, or the liver, maybe. But that is irrelevant now, because it has spread everywhere - abdomen, lymphatic system, bones. He has more than one blood clot. In fact, his circulatory system is full of clots. He doesn't have a crushed disk. He never did. He has a tumor on his spine.

    The Boy was gobsmacked. Gobsmacked! The Boy is only 23, and he is all his Dad has. He listened to Doctor X, and asked no questions. Questions such as "how much time does he have". Having been through this before, I know for a fact he has very little time. But all The Boy heard is "there is nothing we can do to fix this." He couldn't believe it. He still can't.

    His dad is 47.

    The Boy thought his Dad was hiding this from him for a while. Didn't want him to "worry". He was all concerned about this minor factor. "Should I tell Dad I know? What if he still doesn't want to tell me? What if he doesn't want me to know?"

    "Of course you tell him that you know," I said
    "Get that out of the way immediately. Show him you can deal with this. You are strong. He does NOT have to worry about you. He does not have to carry this burden alone. And you CAN deal with this."

    "I'm only 23 Mom." he said. "I can't deal with this. Nothing like this has ever happened to me."

    "Boy, at 23 you are a man." I said.
    "You can deal with it. No one is ever prepared for this to happen, but it does happen, and you've gotta step up to the plate for your Daddy. You will. You can."

    And he can.

    I will help as much as I can.

    It feels almost inappropriate for me to be as sad as I am about this, but I am gobsmacked too.
  • Update: Little Shit not so Shitty
    So this morning I had a doctor's appointment with my GP.
    Myself, The Little Shit, and my ex-husband all share the same GP. That is from the time, many years ago, when we were one big happy family.

    I had just left my doctor and was getting in my car when my cell phone rang.

    It was the Little Shit. Formerly known as:"The Messiah, Possibly".

    He was not happy.
    At first, I worried that he might have read my blog, and found out I had called him a Little Shit, and was going to yell at me. A lot.

    But it turned out, he wanted to beat up Our Doctor, and he wanted me to help him.

    It seems that his Dad was very very sick, and was just home, lying on the couch, apparently dying, while "waiting for a bed".
    He needs a bed, but there are none.

    From what I understand, he has a blood clot in his neck, which has caused his left arm and left leg to swell twice their normal size. He also has a crushed disk in his back. He can't walk. Or eat. Or even go to the bathroom. I understand he has lost so much weight he is down to about 100 pounds. He already only has a quarter of a liver, from a previous accident.
    The Boy is emptying his bedpan and giving him water. Apparently 250 times a day. He is under medical care, and they are giving him blood thinners to look after that clot, and telling him he is first up for a bed.

    Yet The Boy has been watching him failing at home, and thinking "This is RIDICULOUS!! This man is going to DIE in front of me and NO ONE CARES!"

    So this morning, he decided he needed to beat up our doctor, and I had to help him.

    That put me in a rather precarious position. Although I very much like, and respect, my ex-husband - and will do anything for The Boy - is this really my business? I mean, I am divorced from this man, and have been for many years. And though I know he is not a good advocate for his own health, I really have no truck in this.

    Except for The Boy, and his love for His Dad. I have much truck in that.
    So we made a plan. We would go directly to our doctor's office and demand a meeting. I was only moral support.

    We met there. The Boy was all big, and jangly, and upset and imposing. Well, he is six foot four and sort of pumped. Plus, he's got a new little bit of facial hair.

    He demanded to speak to our doctor's nurse. He said it was "urgent". She took us in a room.

    "I need to speak to Doctor X," he said. "He is my father's doctor, and I don't think he really understands how sick my father is."

    She waffled on about patient confidentiality, and how she could not give him any information about his Dad's health care, because of confidentiality, and the like. And she indicated Doctor X was busy, and had a full schedule, and could not possibly speak to him.

    "I don't think you understand," The Boy said.
    "This man has a blood clot in his neck. He is wasting away in front of my eyes. I am afraid for him."

    "We know your father is very sick," she said. "We are trying very hard to get him a bed. We know he needs to be in hospital, but there are no beds."

    "NO!" The Boy said.

    "I don't think you know anything about him. Do you know this man can't walk? Do you know I am changing his bedpan? Do you think it's acceptable for a man with a blood clot in his neck to be unsupervised 75 per cent of the time? Would this be acceptable for your father?"

    He went on further. He asked if, in her opinion, she felt he should call an ambulance, since blood clots tend to break free sometimes and kill people, and also he was suffering so much The Boy couldn't stand it.
    She finally said, yes. Probably, if no bed was forthcoming that day, he should call an ambulance.

    "I'm not making any threats," he said. "But if that man dies, at home. . ."

    "You BETTER NOT BE MAKING THREATS," she said, turned on her heels, and walked out.

    He said we had better leave before the Security Guards escorted him out.

    So we talked about a new plan, which was to call an ambulance tonight. He talked about calling his MLA and I promised to pull whatever strings I had available to my disposal, discreetly.

    But less than a half hour after we walked out of the doctor's office, the hospital called.

    They suddenly had a bed.
    He is there now.
    Thank God.
  • Our Max
    I must tell you about Max.

    Max is, of course, a dog.
    A Very Special Dog.
    And I will tell you why. . .

    When my mother (who is now a Saint, in Heaven, thank you very much) happened to be dying of cancer, her very best friend, who lived in Halifax, decided to adopt a dog.

    She picked this dog out of an ad in the newspaper. This poor dog was a "beagle mix" who, for some reason, had been adopted by a family as a puppy, but then the kids outgrew him, and didn't like him anymore, and the family, who lived in a rich, posh house, decided when poor Max was two (TWO!!!), they didn't need him any more.

    This is when my mother's best friend decided to adopt him.
    So she did. And I think she even paid money for this creature. And I know for a fact that she wall-papered his bedroom with wallpaper featuring bones and such, for her new dog, which she had adopted.

    So she took this new doggie home to her Halifax apartment, with her new doggie wallpaper, and hoped for the best.

    By her own account, Max did not take to her, or to his new home. And she found him somewhat troublesome. . . needing walks and stuff, and possibly attention .But her best friend was dying and she didn't have time to worry about such things.

    And then, my mother was dead.

    This is stupid, but, my mother's best friend decided that she couldn't keep Max anymore. So she phoned the Humane Society in Halifax, where she lived. They had no room at their Inn. Believe it or not, the humane society in Halifax/Dartmouth was full.

    But she was coming to PEI that week-end. Because that is where she, my mother's best friend, is from.. So she decided to take Max to the PEI Humane Society, because they had no room in Halifax, or Dartmouth.

    She felt horrible all the way, but she felt she could no longer keep this fella. So she gave him bone-e-ohs in the car and tried to talk nicely to him all the way to PEI and gave him to the PEI Humane Society.

    That night, for some reason, she called me (I called her?) and she told me about Max.
    Well, I wanted Max, right then, right that second!

    But my husband at the time said "NO DOGS ALLOWED"!

    I happened to be talking to my Dad. And I told him about Max.

    "Well," he said. "I might like that dog."

    He was quite fragile, at the time, and though he is a dog lover, he has had had very good luck, and some very bad luck, with dogs in his life.

    But he decided he wanted to meet That Dog, who happened to be at the PEI pound, because there was no room at the pound in Halifax. And the dog in question was the dog of his wife's best friend.

    So we phoned the PEI pound. And although there is a "quarantine" period for given up for adotion dogs, once we explained the situation, they let him meet Max.

    He took him immediatly.

    That night, Max tried to knock down his bedroom door to get in the bed with him.

    That was 10 years ago.
    They have been tight ever since.
    Tight would not actually describe it.

    I'm not sure how one would describe it. How can one describe it? That dog, that man, are meant to be.

    Did Mom do it? I think so.
  • Watching
    I am watching the meltdown in the financial markets. . .

    And I am seeing, reading, and hearing, people panicking.

    About their RRSPs. Really, I am listening to the most minor things about people's "portfolios". And hearing folks who have the most comfortable lives in their early 40's obsessing about their good "future" going down the tubes through the loss of the markets.

    I have been reading the blogs of well-off people advising citizens to plant acreage and make their homes solar-powered, NOW! (As if poor people can plant acreage and install pellet stoves that meet all regulations, stat!)

    I have been listening to whiners whining about their interest rates climbing several per cent.
    About their oil bills and grocery bills and electricty bills going up. And such. Oh, it's hard. Maybe they might have to give up their second vehicle, and isn't that TRAUMATIC!
    What about the sattelite dish? NO!

    At the same time, I am thinking about the many, many, many people in the world who don't actually have "portfolios" to worry about.
    Who don't have any sort of RRSPP or pension-insured future to be traumatized regards.

    These would be people who are already buying ten gallon jugs of diesel oil because they don't have credit at the oil companies, and they can't afford to pay $400 for a minimum fill-up.

    These would be the people that we didn't actually "want to know" before the Market Crash made us, sort of, like them.

    Because, of course, we "aren't like that".

    We are smart. Possibly. We have good jobs, make good money.

    We are not poor! Poor people are bad. They do things like popcorn and beer, and that is not us.

    Perhaps they had disasters in their life - illness, loss of job, Gawd knows what.

    But they are poor, and we don't want to know them, because they might infect us with their poorness and loserness.

    But perhaps at some point we will all come together.

    They will be enjoying this, I think.
  • My husband is an immigrant
    My husband is an immigrant.

    From what I have ascertained, it was somewhat difficult, but no one asked him for two hundred thousand pounds Thank God, because if they did, I would still be a lonely, bitter, (or bitterer?) woman.

    Instead, he was not allowed to carry more than one hundred pounds into this country and he had to have a job when he got here. Which he did.

    He also had to get a severe medical examination. And although there was some concern about an undescended testical, they let him in.

    Thus, we are not shareholders in a PEI business.
    And he is here. Fair and square.
    God Save The Queen.
    (I still worry about that undescended testical, though).

Profile PEI - the Jeremy Larter Story - Satirical web serial about hapless wannabe-screenwriter Jeremy Larter. New episodes every Monday.
(Added: 25-May-2008 Hits: 22 Rating: 0 Votes: 0) Rate It

  • Chindia 
    Jeremy runs into his old high schoole buddy, Scott Gallant, after a not-so-hot meeting with the unemployment officer.
  • Money Troubles 
    Jeremy runs into some financial difficulties
  • Duet 
    Jeremy and Kelly...in love for ever.
  • The Morning After 
    Loose Cannon - A good cop, bad cop film starring a trigger happy monkey and a straight-laced dolphin.
  • Fort McLennie  
    Jeremy and Graham pick up Lennie at the airport. Lennie is hot off the Fort McMurray Press and he's ready to rule the island.

Sketch-22 Blog - Sketch-22 is a PEI improv comedy troupe.
(Added: 16-May-2005 Hits: 401 Rating: 0 Votes: 0) Rate It

  • Trans Am?
    Hey, remember that blog post last spring about looking for a Trans Am? We're still looking. If anyone has a lead on this, please let us know. Again, we'd prefer a mid-late 70s Firebird, black with a phoenix on the...
  • Season 5's first video shoot a wrap
    With our first video in the can, it feels like Season 5 is officially underway. This photo was taken on March 25 at about 7:30 p.m. near Covehead Harbour. Despite the fact that we were on the north shore in...
  • Sketch-22 Season 5: Assignment: Miami Beach
    Here we go again! Sketch-22 Season 5 is officially underway. Several writers' meetings have been held and I am happy to report the material is as strange, shocking and outrageous as ever. But is it funny? Well, we never really...
  • Rusty & Jerome pt.2
    Jerome (Masenfer) Malone grew up on the streets. The streets of a middle class suburb outside of Fredricton. He began his directionless life of delinquency stealing apples and carrots from neighbours gardens. When he was old enough to ride a...
  • Rusty & Jerome
    Rusty Higgins was a rapscallion from his early youth. Always getting into to trouble in his Neighbourhood in Bristol. When he was 13 he was finally caught by his parents making little bombs and promptly sent to reform camp which...

You Are Now At The Centre Of The Known Universe - A thoroughly fabulous peek inside the glamorous world of LCM, Centre of the Known Universe, featuring my identical twin 39 year-old mother, Mumsey - and our talented troupe of escaped criminals now rehabilitated into mimes, all helpfully named Marcel.
(Added: 28-Aug-2004 Hits: 470 Rating: 0 Votes: 0) Rate It

  • I'm Sure It's Lovely, Dear

    Darlings,

     

    A friend e-mailed me this aft with all manner of news. Well, actually it was mostly a stream of filth and baseless accusations, interspersed with moans of how hard it is to paint a few crummy rooms. I smiled lovingly and responded thusly…

     

     

    Upon Hearing Of A Dear Friend’s Redecorating, by LCM

     

    There once was a lady who painted

    Though her tastes were more or less tainted

    She slapped it all on

    Then drank until dawn

    An elegant story, now ain’t it?”

     

     

    Smiling Lovingly, As I’m So Often Found Doing

    LCM

     

  • Let's See If This Still Works...

    Hello, darlings – just testing to see if could still post a blog entry from my Outlook.

     

    Patting Wig, Looking Fabulous

    LCM

  • Comebacks
    Dear Princess Lira,

    Thank you, sweetie, for you welcome back message. It's heartening to know that not everyone has forgotten about me. (smiling bravely through the tears) Come have a cocktail with me, darling - I feel a poem coming on...


    On My Preference For The Sea, by LCM

    Yes, I've been both there and here
    Seen the usual and the queer
    But nothing dares compare to this
    Here in our unfetered bliss
    I say to all, my friends and foe
    If you ask, I'll tell you "Go"
    I've held the world in both my hands
    In the ports of stranger lands

    I've spent my time with witty men
    But In the end, I pity them
    For at the docks, you'll find me beamin'
    In the company of seamen


    Tossing Head Back And Laughing In That Good Way I Have
    LCM
  • Words And Such
    Melanie, darling!

    How fabulous of you to drop by and compliment me on my vividness. As a resident of Texas, you surely know the how-you-say of the English language. (patting wig, passing Melanie a cocktail) So anyhoo, sweetie, I think I should write a poem about words. I mean, they're a fabulous tool for any modern gadabout, along with the icy smile and withering glare. Let's see what I can come up with...


    The Slower Wit, by LCM

    I often say, I will admit
    My words see me in deficit
    When bright young things as you, my dear
    Wearing such and so, come near
    "Oh how pretty!" I'll profess
    Gazing at your latest dress
    "It couldn't be just off the racks"
    "I've been to Macy's and to Sax"
    "You've been sewing, true it rings"
    "Who knew machines could do such things?"
    But when you saunter off, impressed
    I tell the others "What a mess."
    "The salesman was an evil jester"
    "To put a cow in polyester."

    Patting Wig, Looking Fabulous
    LCM
  • Are You Slanky, Darling?
    Sweeties,

    I recently wrote a poem for my slanky friend Cindy and then forgot to include a proper definition for the word.

    Slanky means slinky. Except only in the extreme past tense. It's the sort of word you might use if you were to be standing next to the pyramids - or the Acropolis - or even Cher. It's a tremendously fabulous word, and I encourage you all to use it with wild, yet elegant abandon.

    Helping The English Language Be More Relevant To Today's Caustic Bitch
    LCM

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