Last comic standing

Poor Sean Cullen.

Kicked off Last comic standing. Admittedly, I didn't find his material to be the funniest of all the contestants.

But I do think he's funny nonetheless and you gotta root for the hometown boy.

So congrats on getting as far as you did Sean and I'm sorry you couldn't make it further.

Packing for Honeymoon

A rough list. I want to keep it small, I hate having to lug around to much stuff. It just seems wasteful to spend all that time and money carting clothes back and forth across the ocean.

Unlike Ireland I'm doubting I'll be purchasing too many clothes.

Shorts (2 pair?)
T-Shirts (4 pair?)
Long sleeve\ button up shirts (2 pair?)
Pants (1 pair)
Jeans (1 pair)
Bathing Suit
Socks
Underwear
Sandals
Good shoes
Running shoes (I don’t really want to bring 3 pairs of shoes)

Sometimes you feel like a nut,

Taw-rana.

If you noticed a bitter scent in the air last night it’s probably because the nuts were out in full force.

I was walking up Queen West to pick up some dinner for S and I when I came across a little tiff between a bicyclist and a car driver, who’d nearly had a collision with each other.

Both were fine, but a largish crowd had gathered to watch the sparks fly between the two combatants.

The cyclist was gamely trying to explain what had happened to the slack-jawed rubberneckers, such as myself, while the dick in the car was calling the cyclist, and anyone else who attempted to step in, a p@ssy. From what I could tell the car had apparently gotten a little to close to the biker and nearly run him into a parked car. Having biked that narrow stretch of road lots of times, I fully understand that danger.

The crowd was nearly as colourful as the shouting match, throwing in their two cents and trying to instigate some sort of showdown between the two of them, you could tell that more than a few onlookers were hoping for a physical confrontation.

Anyway, I didn’t see who did what, so I can’t lay blame at anyone’s feet. But I will say that the driver of the car didn’t seem too interested in any sort of a balanced conversation. He was quite content to just rage at the world in general.

With the heat wave that’s supposed to be rolling through town just in time for the annual Toronto Caribana Festival I suspect that these kinds of fiery confrontations are going to become commonplace over the next couple of days.

Which is precisely why I’m blowing this popsicle stand.

Your honour, I’d like to enter a plea of ‘boys will be boys’.

Edited for the reading pleasure of those with delicate sensibilities. More quotes to potentially come as bachelor party participants sober up and reluctantly return to their computers.

1. My (censored) glowed in the dark.
2. Hello there little boys
3. No running shoes, no sandals, no running shoes, no running shoes ...
4. Let’s go easy tonight so that Saturday can be the real bender.
5. There are only so many back-to-back episodes of “Hannah Montana” that a person can take this early in the morning.
6. One more person get in the cab.
7. That tomato looks like (censored).
8. Shoe, Jeans, Deals, Deals!
9. Senor Pic-canty
10. I’ll never look at a spoon the same way again
11. Stay thirsty my friends
12. Man, Tele-Latino has some crazy stuff on Saturday night.
13. The Casino Niagara Theme Song (BA-daaaaaaa, ba-DAaaaaaaa…)
14. Awwww, man, I just took her head clean off
15. dudedudedudedudedudedudedudedude
16. Here come the meat sweats.
17. I may not know you by Tim Hortons.
18. Why are there two shower heads?

Bachelor Party: Wrap up

Now that was a bachelor party.

Unfortunately, except for a few rare nuggets, the details of said party shall be forever lost in the mists of time. (What happens in the Falls, stays in the Falls)

But I think I can wrangle up a couple photos, a 'best of' quote list and maybe even a video or two.
Suffice to say that over the course of 72 hours I have never played so many cards, drank, smoked, and engaged in all manner of unhealthy activities that will probably plague me physically and mentally in the years to come, as I did this weekend.

Now to restart my kidneys and my brain.

Six sentence comic book reviews

Offered without comment.

Trinity #8
The Brave and the Bold #15
Green Lantern Corps #26
Justice League of America #23
Superman #678
Ultimate X-Men #96
Invincible #51
Gravel #3
Black Summer #7

Green Lantern Corps #26

Mongul II, dead and dismembered? Don’t bet your life on it. In this issue Mongul goes head to head with almost the entire cast of the GL Corps. In a predictable battle, but beautifully drawn by Patrick Gleason, Mongul gets his ass handed to him after one of the Lanterns, Bzzd, sacrifices himself to bring down the new Sinestro Corps leader. A rock’em, sock’em, widescreen space opera that absolutely could not be any more enjoyable, highlighting just how much writer Peter Tomasi is on top of his game. Consistently one of the best comics being published right now, by any company.

Black Summer #7

Warren Ellis’ two year old blockbuster comic event comes to an end, and boy does this thing get talky. The surviving female contingent of the Seven Guns decide that helping keep their city safe is more important than taking revenge on the military for killing Tom Noir in cold blood. Horus, Blacksmith and a not-quite-as-dead-as-we-thought Noir then proceed to jaw at the reader for half a dozen pages in an attempt to justify their actions over the course of this series. A good, but somewhat anti-climatic, end to a better than average story. The incessant moralizing by three of the leads, in order to make their character motivations explicit, really pulled me out the tale. I would have preferred to let their actions speak for themselves and avoid spoon feeding me the unnecessary details.

Invincible #51

The Venom years, only without the sentient costume. For a Jim Lee cover I can’t help but feel like I’m not getting my money’s worth. Invincible’s right hand seems to be twisted into some kind of claw shape and there’s no background to speak of. It’s not a bad cover, just not what I’m used to from JL. Anyway, in this ish Invincible gets a new, darker toned costume, a kid sidekick and a girlfriend to boot. A series that continues to live up to the high standard of comic bookery that it has set for itself, if you’re an Invincible fan you’ll find nothing to hate here.

Superman #678

The latest attempt to repatriate a long lost Jack Kirby creation into the DCU proper continues. Atlas, a former hero type turned planetary dictator, shows up in Metropolis in order to challenge Superman for control of the city. The fists then proceed to fly. There’s a pair of obligatory shadowy figure types pulling various strings in the background and Atlas’ backstory is given an appropriate Kirby style visual treatment. There’s an unfamiliar cadence to some of the dialogue in this issue that’s neither good or bad, but pulls me out of the story nonetheless. An admirable attempt at varying the Superman formula a little bit that will keep me onboard with this title, for no other reason that to see how this story plays out.

Surprise party

I got sucker punched by a surprise party yesterday. I always thought the people in my office were a little slow on the uptake whenever the same thing happened to them.

"Hey you're going on maternity leave tomorrow, that's great. Oh, by the way, we're scheduling a last minute meeting on that day. But don't read anything into it."

My office got both of us a sizable gift certificate to William Ashley. I also got a seperate gift of some expensive cigars to smoke with the boys this weekend. The whole thing was a complete shock. I absolutely didn't see it coming and I was a little humbled when it happened.

Anyway, tomorrow marks the begining of Bachelor party weekend. Paintball, poker and golf. The best man is coming in from Ottawa and bunking on our couch tonight. Of course if you're one of the three people who happen to read this blog. Chances are I'll be seeing you there anyway.

If I'm lucky I'll be able to get up this weeks comic reviews. But I promise nothing.

21st century edge

The word 'edgy' should be ground into a fine paste and then shat on by a million rabid monkeys.

Condo Corp hi-jinkery

It looks our dysfunctional condo corp is at it again.

Based on a unspecified number of requests the corp is cutting the party room in half in order to expand the building's gym facilities. This means they're getting rid of the party room pool table, which is the only aspect of the party room I actually used. So the party room will now be the size of a small walk-in closet and only hold a single Foosball table on top of a mini bar fridge stolen from your kid brothers dorm room. I know I can't wait to try it out.

Of course this new construction project, beginning in two weeks, is likely to be a somewhat costly venture. So look to see yet another small increase to your condo fees the next time they come up to renewal.

Actually, when you consider the building wide wall painting, carpet replacement, new tile floor, underground parking light fixture upgrades and keyless entry retrofits this small increase could actually be quite substantial.

So. To recap. Condo corporation, under the guise of good governance, spends residents condo fees like drunken sailors just back from sea, on a multitude of make-work construction projects. Then, bass-ackwards corporation proceeds to raise condo fees to pay for aforementioned unneeded renovations all while rubbing five dollar bills over their naked and bloated bodies.

What really bugs me about this whole process is how they've completely overlooked what the building's tenants think. They've gone and decided on a course of a action, along with a timetable to implement said course of action, but they haven't bothered to seriously poll the building to see how much support there is for this endeavour. And because this thing is already in the works it, and assumed to be going forward, it makes it harder for me, or anyone who agrees with me, to stop it or at least have an open conversation about whether this is what the majority of tenants want.

It's a lot harder to effect a program that's already in motion than it is one that's still in the planning stages. Which is what I suspect the corporation wants, it's just smart politics. If you open up the whole consultation process to the building as a whole, who knows what we might agree to? We could decide that we don't want the gym at all and that the space could be better used as a library. What then?

Better to just commit ourselves to a course of action and deal with any problems as they arise. It's easier than the much more messy and less easily controlled group consultation.

If the majority of the building's tenants want a bigger gym than I'm content to go along with that majority. I don't use the party room enough to really care. But don't tell me an unspecified number of people want a more gym facilities. Is that number 2 or 200?

If you're going to embark on a significant construction project that may have real implications on my condo fees. The absolute least you can do is be open, honest and transparent about what you are doing and why. And that includes giving me an opportunity to disagree with your decision.

Vehicular Homicide

What a weekend.

After a quick round of early morning golf with the boys on Saturday, in temperatures approaching records not even seen on the planet Mercury, I raced home to pick up S so we could knock off a couple wedding related errands, such as getting our international driver’s licenses and meeting with the DJ to iron out our all important ‘Do Not Play’ list.

(Macarena, YMCA, the chicken dance and the entire works of John Denver)

We weren’t in the car five minutes when the radio starts to cut out on us and S notices that the power windows were really sluggish. At this point a strange tone starts to creep into her voice and she starts giving me ‘the look’.

We bought a new used car about 9 months ago. It wasn’t even five years old at the time, didn’t have a ridiculous amount of mileage on it and was thoroughly vetted by S’s Cuz, who just happens to be a mechanic. Despite all of these elements working in the car’s favour, S has a nasty habit of hearing phantom noises and thinking that the car is on the verge of some sort of massive mechanical failure. An idea that I’ve done my level best to assure her could never happen.

Except now it’s actually happening and all bets are off.

“What did you do the car?” says S, instantly discarding my weak and feeble protestations of “nothing”.

“You were the last person to drive it,” she reminds me. “You must have noticed something.”

At this point in time the radio dies on us completely and on the advice of her cousin, hastily reached via his cell, we decide to get off the road and take ourselves to the nearest Crappy Tire before the car calls it a day. Cuz tells us the alternator is most likely shot, but the upside is it’s an easy fix and most likely we can be back on the road the same day.

The Canadian Tire mechanic is thoroughly unimpressed with the fact that Cuz is quarterbacking us through the entire process. As some mechanics are wont to do they try to hit us up for unnecessary parts and excessive labour costs and seem a little peeved that we have a better-than-average understanding of what is going on.

Rule number one. You don’t screw with S. She deals with blood and death and hysterics for a living so it takes a lot to throw her off her game. Trying to bulldoze her into thinking a one hour job takes twice as long as Cuz says it will is only going to guarantee your very public and very humiliating verbal disembowelment.

My job in this little comedy of errors is to preach moderation and to remind S that if we dig our heels in too much, we may get the alternator fixed but they might also take three weeks to do it and when they finally do give the car back to us we’ll end up dead in a ditch somewhere because they’ve cut our brake lines.

Yes I know its inherently wrong to suggest rolling over like this. But we’ve got less than a month before we get married and in that time we need to be mobile. So we can’t afford to be without wheels for an hour, much less a couple days. If we had an infinite amount of time and money I’d be standing right next to S, handing her the sharpened knife as she slowly filets the mechanic for his condescending attitude. But we don’t. So I try to be a moderating influence, settle for only being screwed a little bit (just the tip) and ensure that no one leaves this little transaction happy.

In the end, we missed our appointment with the DJ, somehow managed to get our international driver’s license, depleted our wedding fund to pay for the repairs and then collapsed at home on the couch in an impromptu nap session, thoroughly exhausted by the trials of the day.

And all this before bachelorette party began.

More on that later.

Flashpoint: Redux

Despite half a dozen cups of coffee, my morning caffeine has yet penetrate the fog that has settled on to my thoughts. So instead of a post outlining the high and low points of my weekend, of which there are many, enjoy some mindless review-ery instead.

Here are some more thoughts on Flashpoint, then we can stick this sucker on ‘simmer’ for a few months before potentially re-visiting the show.

1. Hugh Dillon is still smiling too much! There’s something to be said for being an actor who handle a broad range of emotion. But at the same time, you’ve got to dance with the one that brung you.

2. Actually, overall, the show still needs more grit. Throw in some realism won’t you? The leading cast is far too balanced and normal to be cops. Where’s the alcoholism? The sexist asshole who doesn’t believe that women should be a part of the team? Where is the inter-squad tension? People are too nice and too polite here, yes their manners are too Canadian dammit.


3. The show has a bit of a case of the CSI’s, more focused on the procedural aspect of hostage negotiation and looking good while doing it. Hell we’ve even got the pre-requisite, montage of events over sappy music at the end. Not sure if this is a criticism, or just an observation.

4. There was a moment last night where Henry Czerny tried to fire his gun into the ceiling to make everyone back off and the safety happened to be on. That brief instant, and the character reactions it highlighted, defined the whole series for me.

5. Timmy’s name dropping.

6. All my information about how cops handle situations like this comes from American television. There were about a dozen instances during last night’s episode where the cops clearly had the drop on Czerny (lethal or otherwise) and didn’t take it. I caught myself noticing this and wondered, with the show’s heavy pre-occupation with procedural accuracy, which method do cops actually use?

Overall, a solidly written and acted second episode. I still think they need to refine the formula a little better. The show is good but with a little more focus giving on giving its production values a bit more of a realistic polish

Bachelorette Par-tay

S’s bachelorette party is tomorrow night.

I’m really curious to find out what kind of trouble she’s going to get up to. When we first started going out S used to regale me with all these stories about how her work friends were the ultimate party animals. These booze soaked adventures were always outlandish, over the top and spoken of in the deepest reverential tones.

Yet whenever I met members of this group (weddings, Christmas parties…weddings) it was apparent by the number of swollen bellies in the crowd that their heavy partying days were in the past. So instead of Courtney Love, I got to meet Martha Stewart, only minus the jail time.

But tomorrow, in a much requested revival tour, the husbands will be left at home with the children and the women will finally paint the town red again.

S has been handed a list of various tawdry items that she will be expected to bring to her party leaving only the sickest and most depraved imaginations, such as my own, to concoct a convoluted game plan that justifies their usage.

(A health card, really?)

Just like the Polka-roo the myth of the RT party animal will be just that, something often heard about, but rarely seen.

Six sentence comic book reviews

A light week for comic books. And unfortunately not a very satisfying one.

Trinity #7
Final Crisis: Rogues' Revenge #1
Flash #242
Hellblazer #246
Captain America #40
Ultimate Fantastic Four #56

Final Crisis: Rogues’ Revenge #1

Now THIS is what a Flash comic should read like. Oh, it’s not a Flash comic, it’s a Final Crisis tie-in? The premise behind this mini-series is that four of the Flash’s rogues gallery, Heatwave, Captain Cold, Weather Wizard and Mirror Master, have decided to give up a life of crime, but not before they pull one last heist, er, murder to atone for their role in the death of Bart Allen. After the end of his phenomenal run on the Flash solo title three years ago, it’s great to see Geoff Johns back in the driver’s seat writing the Rogues again. He’s able to transform this band of criminal misfits into complex characters, with a semblance of their Silver Age sensibilities, instead of just another bunch of gritty thugs. It’s enough to make a fanboy yearn for the heady days of 2005 when Johns was still working with these characters on a regular basis.

Captain America #40

I feel uncomfortable sometimes reviewing some Marvel comics because I’m not versed enough in the minutiae of their universe to make judgement calls on some of their creative directions. This universe just doesn’t have the same history and emotional resonance with me that the DC stable of characters has. In fact I initially only picked up this title because I wanted to take a look at what Alex Ross had done in Cap’s costume redesign. But I stayed because I’m enjoying how Brubaker is developing and redefining the Captain America mythos, pulling in disparate elements from across the character’s long publishing history. It’s unfortunate that the return of Steve Rogers is practically pre-ordained as Marvel has pulled off an excellent character transition here in the manner of a DC-esque legacy hero. That being said, once this particular story arc is finished, this title will be dropped from my pull list.

Ultimate Fantastic Four #56

What always appealed to me about the Ultimate universe is that it retold classic Marvel U stories in a streamlined fashion, without the baggage of decades of continuity. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your point of view, that well seems to have run dry and the universe chugs along on its own now, only occasionally checking in on the properties that birthed it. Which means that its just like any other regular Marvel title and I’m having problems figuring out why I should care about the Ultimate line anymore. To be honest, Ultimate Fantastic Four is the worst offender of the bunch. Ultimate Spidey and X-Men do a much better job staying true to their roots. In this issue, if you can keep your eyelids pried open, the FF fight a seven headed uber-germ based on the mythical Hydra.

Flash #242

The saga of Wally’s children continues. Iris continues to age rapidly and the West family is helpless to stop it. A last ditch effort to turn back the clock, thanks to some help from the Nzame of Gorilla City, ends in disaster as Iris prematurely ages to her death. I think this is purely a temporary comic death here. It’s meant as a convenient excuse to push Wally over the edge and have the character do something he regrets. Perhaps there’s another Flash standing in the wings who could take over for him?

Now get thee to a nunnery.

Post Script

While I'm on the subject...

It's refreshing to know that some people you may not have heard from in years, will still drop everything and come running when they hear you're getting married.

That's friendship.

These aren't a few of my favourite things

It’s getting close to the big day and the topic that most people seem to be wondering about is if I’m nervous or stressed yet.

Um. With a couple exceptions the answer is no.

Marriage itself? Well I wouldn’t have asked in the first place if I didn’t want it.

Planning the wedding? I’ve organized enough film shoots, stage plays, and last years award show for work, to be comfortable enough with the logistics of planning this kind of thing. It’s never fun but I don’t find it particularly stressful either. The basics are pretty much the same.

Full disclosure: S is the lead planner for this event. I’m pot scrubber and chief bottle washer, throwing out opinions left, right and center, but essentially (unsuccessfully) trying to keep myself from getting in the way of her planning.

We’ve also been fairly lucky that our family and friends have been there to lend a hand when they can and so far nobody has made any outrageous requests of us.

No, the most stressful part of the wedding planning has been some guests.

Early on we adopted a no-children policy for the reception. Kids are absolutely welcome to attend the ceremony but we wanted to give people a more adult wedding reception. S and I have both been to weddings where parents spent the majority of their time chasing after screaming children and then have to leave early to get the kiddies to bed. We wanted to avoid that aspect of it all.

With a couple rare exceptions most people seem to be support this choice. Unfortunately the exceptions have been notable in their declaration of abstentia, making us fully aware that it is our policy that is keeping them away. This can be a bit tough to take. Of course we’d like to have them attend. And we absolutely understand their reasons for not being able to come.

It’s the ripple effects that bother me. Couple A chooses not to attend, so they put pressure on Couple B to pass up on the reception as well, in a show of support. They’re trying to make us feel crappy about our decision. The people close to you always know which buttons to push to get a reaction.

There are other political games that we have to play. The seating chart was one of them, dealing with personality conflicts between groups of friends another. Hey, just because they’re your friend, doesn’t mean they have to like, tolerate or make nice with each other.

It’d be nice to think that the world would shelve their personal problems for a day in order to celebrate our wedding. But unfortunately it doesn’t really work like that. It’s the rare human being who is able to rise above it all when the circumstances aren’t to their liking.

Da Flick

I love this picture. It looks like I’ve got tremendous amounts of air.

So apparently I can flick now, just not in a game.

It started a couple weeks ago, I was horsing around in the backyard with my brother-in-law, just tossing a disc and for shits and giggles I decided to try flicking to him. After a few wayward throws I settled down into a nice rhythm. No one was more shocked than I was. This may seem like a rather minor victory to you, but in the four years I’ve been playing Ultimate I have yet to throw a flick with anything approaching distance, accuracy and success.

It’s become a standing joke. I can chuck a hammer, which is a more difficult throw that utilizes the same principles as the flick, but I can’t throw a flick itself.

A couple days later I tried to throw a flick during a game and it was the same old story.

So after the game a bunch of us were tossing the disc and once again I started trying to flick and it worked. Near as I can figure, I’m over thinking the throw during the game, trying to hard to force it work.

So my game plan is to warm up with flick almost exclusively and create some muscle memory. That way when I make the throw during the game it’ll happen automatically.

Well, that’s the plan anyway.

Dry run

S and I went to a friend's wedding this weekend.

While I was there, slowly depleteting the bar of its ample stock of rye, it really hit home that in less than a month I'll be doing all of this again, only from a slightly different viewpoint.

After spending about five minutes sitting in the church this weekend I had completely sweated through my shirt. I looked, and smelt, like I'd spent the afternoon sumo wrestling on the front porch. And this was just me wearing a regular shirt and jacket. For my own wedding the male portion of the bridal party will be wrapped in four layers of thick wool.

You remember wool don't you? Nature's suffocating, heat absorbing, creation.

I'm envisioning at least one fainting and a fatality.

Note to groomsmen. I'm...sorry?

Anyway it was a very nice wedding. I got to play pool, drink and 'dance' for free. What more could you ask for?

But after watching the groom's father deliver his speech, it made me realize that I'm going to have a quick heart to heart with my own dad. I don't think I want to be reffered to as 'sensitive' in front of all the assembled family and friends, no matter how true it may be.

Flashpoint: As it happens

First thoughts.

1. Hugh Dillon is smiling!!! (and laughing to boot) in the opening scenes. Hardly the grim and gritty uber-sniper that the Americans are going to love to watch.

2. The action scenes take a back seat to the character building material. And that's a good thing. Substance triumphs over style.

3. Why do I care so much about how I think this is going to play south of the border? I know that there's been a lot of talk about it's American license and what that means for Canadian filmmaking. But as I watch it, nothing really grabs me. It doesn't feel like must see TV. It feels like better than average television with a lead actor who is interesting to me because of his musical career and his real life demons.


4. Amy Jo Johnson, utterly miscast in the role of Jules Callaghan, sniper. It feels like shes here to counter some of the gender disparity issues of the show and bring a softer side to this series. Unfortunately she sticks out like a sore thumb. There's no rule that says women, attractive or otherwise, can't be snipers. But it's not hard to see that this show places a premium on young attractive actors and unfortunately AJJ feels like just another entry in this column rather than a character of substance.


5. Hey! Henry Czerny is in the next episode. That pretty much guarantees that I'll be around for the next installment.

6. Overall the show is good but not great. I'm hoping it'll stick around for a little while. I wonder what kind of viewing numbers the opening episode will pull down. (Edit: Apparently 8 million Americans saw the opening episode, which is more than the premiere of House)

Here's mud in your eye...

I live in a townhouse which is smack in the middle of a larger condo complex. As such our place is governed by the complex’s condo corporation.

S and I pay fees to gain access to the condo’s services and facilities such as snow removal, mailboxes, gym access and underground parking. The condo fees aren’t onerous but, sure as shit, every year they’re guaranteed to go up. (And yet try to book a party room for your fiance’s wedding shower and watch the machinery break down)

But what I really don’t like about the condo corp is how it embodies the worst aspects of a gated community. Last summer, the corp declared that all exterior doors would now be painted black, to keep visual look of the doors consistent with that of the railings and exterior light fixtures.

Ooooooookay.

This summer our exposed concrete wall has become a test canvas for the corp to experiment with finding the perfect shade of red for all the exposed concrete in the complex. (Incidentally our next door neighbour is the condo president which is why we got saddled with this particular honour)

As we own the townhouse, it bugs me that the corp is free to redecorate our entire exterior based on their bureaucratic group think. Um, the last time I checked we were paying the condo fees and should therefore be the final arbiters of what our own house looks like.

Do I really care if our door is black and our wall is red?

No. Not really. I think it’s an improvement to be honest.

But what if I didn’t like the new colour scheme? Then I’d be stuck with someone else’s design choices and a long uphill battle to preserve a status quo that’s already been changed.

What I care about is how someone else gets to make decisions that affect my property without even consulting me on it.

I’m tempted to paint our entire front porch neon orange, throw up some broken Christmas lights and maybe even throw out a pink flamingo or two in the front flowerbed, just to what would happen.

It may trigger an interesting conversation.

Idle minds...

Interesting meeting yesterday.

I think I've built up some political capital within the organization. I was able to suggest a story idea for our latest mag that, while not met with a lot of initial enthusiasm, was signed off on by the board. Which is a good thing.

I'm hoping it means that I've proven myself in my position and people are able to trust my instincts on what makes a good story.

Recently a job posting showed up at work that would be a great position to apply for, but is just a little out of my grasp right now. I'd like to wait until I have my Certificate and a little more flexibility to my schedule before I apply to any jobs as demanding as that one.

But it did make me wonder about the future. How long am I willing to stay in my current job? And if/when I go, where am I looking to go and what am I hoping to do?

There are some fantastic advantages to my current job that I won't find anywhere else. But I don't want to get so caught up in the perks of this job that I hesitate about taking on bigger and better challenges.

Just something that's been hovering in the back of my mind for the last week or so.

Six sentence comic book reviews

All right you insufferable bastards.

Enjoy your pound of flesh.

Trinity #6
Action Comics #867
Green Arrow\Black Canary #10
Justice Society of America #17
Ultimate Origins #2
Wolfskin Annual #1
Final Crisis: Requiem
Booster Gold #1000000

Wolfskin Annual #1

This was a surprise purchase on my part, especially since I’m actively trying to prune my pull list. But two things combined to encourage me to pull this number off the shelf. First, it’s written by Warren Ellis. Second, Wolfskin kills a man by hitting nails into his face as if he were practicing hammering fly balls into the outfield at Sky Dome. What’s not to like? Aside from some intentionally opaque dialogue I thought this was an amusing done-in-one story that sets the stage for the title character’s next story arc.

Booster Gold #1000000

I hadn’t realized that Johns’ final issue of Booster Gold was coming out this week. Regrettably with his departure this title moves into my drop pile. After the death of Ted, Blue Beetle II, time repairs itself and Booster begins to question what’s been driving him to be a superhero in hiding over the last twelve issues. That is until Batman shows him the photographs from the Joker’s camera, that he's apparently been holding onto for years, of Booster trying to save Barbara from being shot. I’m sorry, I’m not buying it. Even keeping the vagaries of a fictional universe’s timelines in mind I have touble believing that Batman is dick enough to hold on to those photos for so long without saying or doing something about them.

Final Crisis: Requiem

Hey, lookit that, Aquaman’s back. Um, I was never the biggest Aquaman fan, but the Internet tells me that the incarnation showing up in this issue is no more. Is this a scheduling goof that has now spoiled upcoming events from Final Crisis? Or was DC determined that all of their Big 7 make an appearance at J’onn’s funeral, throwing logic and continuity to the wind? Anyway, Requiem chronicles the life and death of J’onn J’onzz, the Martian Manhunter. Nothing about the way his death is presented smacks of permanence and I think it’s obvious that this is an editorial decision to remove him from the board for a while, for whatever reason.

Action Comics #867

Geoff Johns thrives in his role as DC’s chief continuity repairman for some of their more convoluted properties. This time out Brainiac is getting the Johns treatment. Rather than wait for Brainiac to discover his existence on Earth, Clark decides to turn the tables and bring the fight to him. So he heads out into space where he interrupts one of Brainy’s city smash-and-grab routines. Gary Frank’s art made this issue for me, I’ve never seen Brainiac, and Braniac related constructs, looks so evil and menacing. Now if only we could find some way to get rid of Steve Lombard again, another Crisis maybe?

Now get out of here. You can’t bother to leave me my dignity, so just leave me in peace.

Hell's Kitchen Bitchin'

Oh Petrozza.

You wuz robbed buddy.

I thought you had the better menu, ran your service well and handled all the ups and downs that the night threw at you.

I wuz rootin' for you.

Gold Diggers of 2008

Powering down the home stretch for the wedding.

Although the ‘To Do’ list hardly seems to be shrinking, indeed the opposite appears to be happening, we are making noticeable progress in getting ready for the big day.

A while ago I noticed a key flaw in my budgeting. I budgeted X amount of dollars for the wedding, but neglected to mention that this amount was also supposed to cover any honeymoon expenses.

Unfortunately, only the wedding budget was crafted around figure X and it when it came time to start planning (and paying) for the honeymoon it became apparent that there was a hole in our finances. Well, my finances anyway.

So things got stretched a little bit and the important stuff (transportation, lodgings) were able to be covered. But food, walking around cash and fantastic miscellaneous are regrettably still beyond my means.

That means these items may have to be taken care of by Senor Credit Cardo.

Which I hate. If there is one occasion when you can justify a smallish amount of debt it should be your honeymoon. But I’m so debt-phobic that I’m likely to bend over backwards and spend as little as I can in order to keep any potential debt accumulation to as small amount as possible.

I don’t want to go hog wild on my honeymoon and break the bank. Hell, I don’t want even want to dent it. But I do know that if I’m paying for things on credit I will begrudge each and every penny spent. And the last thing I want to do on my honeymoon is pinch pennies.

Engagement Photos

Finally got our engagement photos in.

Here's the front runner.

I'm biologically incapable of smiling naturally for the camera. Hence the smoldering look.

Believe it or not I'm trying like hell to smile here.

Dill Fiction

Marcellas Wallace:
I think you are gonna find, when this shit is over … I think you're gonna find yourself one smiling motherfucker. The thing is, Bicks, right now, you've got flavour. But painful as it may be, flavour don't last. And your days are just about over. Now, that's a hard motherfucking fact of life. But it's a fact of life your ass is gonna have to get realistic about. See, this business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers. Motherfuckers who thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does. If you mean it gets better with age, it don't. Besides, Bicks, how many bites you think you got left in you anyway? Two? Pickles don't have an "old timer's league". You came close, but you never tasted it, and if you were gonna taste it, you would have tasted it before now.

Bicks:
There's a lotta mothaf*cking salt, in a mothaf*cking pickle.

Six sentence comic book reviews

It’s a well known fact that the Internet produces 67 pounds of unadulterated crap daily.

Which, when you think about it, is actually a lot less than you’d expect.

Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls of all ages….I bring you, six sentence comic book reviews.

Let’s do this.

Trinity #5
Walking Dead #50
Batman #678
Rann\Thanagar: Holy War #3
Astonishing X-Men #25
Dark Tower: The Long Road Home #5

Rann\Thanagar: Holy War #3

Droppity, drop, drop-drop, drop-drop-drop. Sorry but this title just isn’t doing it for me anymore. I only started reading it because it combined many of the more interesting spaced-based series and miniseries (Adam Strange, Mystery in Space, 52) from the past few years. But after realizing it was a chore to have to sit down and actually read this issue I knew it was time to cut the cord. Jim Starlin’s story is so-so and Ron Lim’s art is…passable. But reading the space adventures of DC’s C-list heroes just shouldn’t be this dull.

Batman #678

I’m loving Morrison’s Batman because it’s so against formula. I generally wouldn’t touch a solo Bat-title for love or money. He’s grim, gritty and solves crime, I get it already. But Morrison’s Silver Age labyrinthine mind games and disjointed storytelling techniques are so different from standard spandex superhero stories that they force me to raise my game as a reader and I dig that. In this issue the Club of Villains continue their assault on Bats and company by shooting him up with weapons grade crystal meth and dumping him on the streets. It’s an interesting little story that is regrettably hamstrung by the lack of a big name artist.

Astonishing X-Men #25

Where Morrison tends to enslave characters to the needs of his ‘big story idea’ Ellis takes a different tack, placing the ‘big story idea’ firmly in the background and focusing on how the threat impacts a story’s characters and their relationships. That’s what this issue of CSI: San Francisco is all about. The X-Men are asked to consult on the death of a suspected mutant. But all that really happens is that Ellis spends the entire issue introducing his version of the X-men lineup and (re)establishing their relationships with each other. Simone Bianchi’s art isn’t really my thing. I think he makes an interesting cover artist but his interior work is flat and generally unappealing to me.

Walking Dead #50

A fantastically well written epic character piece set in the background of a zombie apocalypse, what’s not to like? This issue was a fantastic coda, dealing with Carl’s repressed emotions and inner turmoil stemming from recent WD events. For a young boy living in a world where death is an everyday fact of life we’re shown that almost anything can become commonplace, even zombies. Robert Kirkman has done an excellent job giving readers a chance to adjust to the new status quo and allow his characters a similar opportunity to mature and grow. I strongly suspect that with the next issue we’ll see the titles remaining disparate characters, and possibly some new faces, begin to reappear. I can’t wait.

Now go away and leave an old man in peace. You’ve got what you wanted from me you dirty bastards.