to desire the replica

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 26th, 2009

It’s no secret that I follow Matt Good’s blog or that I adore his music and take weird stalkerish pictures of him in his front yard. I read this post on his site about an hour ago and am still shaking my head at the fuckery of it.

Back when I lived in Vancouver and later when I lived in Toronto for a few years I was a bit of a concert junkie and have seen literally hundreds of terrific live acts in all shapes and sizes. I am not a particularly star struck person or groupie type but have often, whether through friends or work, had the opportunity to meet or chat or sit down for a beer with many different singers/bands/performers. It’s just kind of one of those things… Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. I for paid my ticket and I saw the concert, anything over and above that is just a happy chance.

I have seen Matt Good perform live about a half a dozen times and have always thoroughly enjoyed myself. The fact that he sits on his tour bus after nearly every show and shakes hands, signs merch and poses for photos has always amazed me as he has a rather unlucky knack for catching every bug or flu that happens to be currently making the rounds. Given the fact that my ticket price didn’t include a “meet & greet” I sure as shit don’t feel as though I have the right as a fan to demand one. It’s not just the situation of fans being pissed at Matt for not signing stuff after the show because it’s everywhere. It’s the chick ahead of you at a buffet that just piled 12lbs of prawns onto her plate because godforfuckingbid she not “get her share.“  and it’s the guy that demands a million free extras added to his service because he is after all a “Goddamn paying customer!” Where the fuck does this over inflated sense of entitlement come from?

If a bartender promos you a round of drinks just for the hell of it are you the type of person who is pleasantly surprised and says thank you? Or are you the type that if he doesn’t slide you a freebie you somehow feel ripped off??? I’m confused as to when this whole thought process of it being your right to demand more than you paid for became so socially acceptable. I honestly just don’t fucking get it. How much is enough? And honestly, how fucking exhausting must it be to be one of those people that spend their day making sure they get what they (haven’t) paid for?

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 25th, 2009

I have decided that I am going to start something new on this blog and I shall call it Recipe day! You’ll notice that I haven’t called it “Food Friday” or “Tasty Tuesday” and there is a very good reason for this. Let’s be realistic here people, I’m not nearly reliable enough to stick to one specific day. My inaugural recipe is French Onion Soup and it’s fucking delicious.

You’ll need;

4 cups of red wine (1 for the soup, 3 to drink while cooking)

4 or 5 cups beef stock (or one of those liter boxes if you don’t make your own)

2 large sweet onions

1 tbsp butter (the real stuff, not marg)

1 tbsp olive oil

tsp mustard powder

about 1/2 cup swiss or smoked gruyere cheese

couple of slices of baguette

2 Oven safe french onion soup bowls

Slice up onions and saute them in butter and olive oil. Cook over medium heat stirring every now & then for about 1 hour until they’re a pan of golden brown caramelized goodness.

While the onions are cooking put on a pot of beef stock. Drop in garlic cloves, mustard powder and red wine and simmer while onions are cooking.

Grate the cheese and toast the slices of baguette under the broiler. Once the onions are ready add them to the beef stock and bring to a boil. Turn down the heat and let it simmer for 15 min. Fill soup bowls, put in toasted bread and top with cheese. broil on high until cheese is brown and bubbly. Serve with bread and slices of hot Genoa or some other yummy rich sausage.

Oh yeah. That’s the goods.

For more goodness check out my food blog Fig & Pepper

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 22nd, 2009

I spent most of the day on the couch nursing a wee bit of a wine hangover.

There was napping involved.

Then I did something rather remarkable. I spent hours painting round wooden beads to make a pretty garland for our Christmas tree because I hate that glittery tinsel-like shit. I hate it with the heat of a thousand suns. So yeah, I sat at home and made wooden garland.

I think that someone slipped me something. Seriously.

Fuck I hate Martha Steward.

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 20th, 2009

“Fuck no! My mom raised bad kids, not stupid ones!”

Overheard today on my way to work.

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 17th, 2009

While walking my lovely rovers yesterday I came upon this house a few blocks from my own. I know it isn’t the greatest picture in the world but take a good long look at it.

It isn’t the fact that it’s November 17th and the Halloween shit is still all over the windows, door and front lawn. No, it isn’t that. That bugs me a little, but nothing really photo worthy. It IS however the fact that it is November 17th and the Halloween shit is still all over the windows, door and front lawn AND their rather large and fully decorated Christmas tree is in the front fucking window peeking out from behind the creepy drapes.

Seriously.

Yes- I know it would have been a better shot had they put the tree lights on. No such luck, and really, I could only stalk the front yard for so long until someone called the cops the dogs got bored.

Oddly enough, right down from that little mind numbing decorating sense was this. I love the way the Christmas lights twinkle off the plastic Halloween ghosts in the tree.

What the fuck and how…..??? You know what?, forget it. I don’t even know what to say. There’s a pain behind my left eye right now.

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 16th, 2009

Dear Asshole,

It isn’t the 60’s or 70′ or even the early part of the 80’s so the “I didn’t know!” bullshit doesn’t fly. You do know better. I don’t care what your fucking reason is. All that I know for sure are these two things;

#1- Every time that I see you outside of your office building across from mine I feel physically ill.

#2- This makes you a selfish fucking twat.

Sincerely,

Kim

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 13th, 2009

Are you superstitious?

I am most decidedly not, though people who don’t know me well tend to think that I am even though I don’t do the whole salt over the shoulder thing or other such craziness. I do however double and triple check things, when I ride Lola Gold I have to ring the bell twice when I start out, and I talk to inanimate objects quite often. I have always found it strange that people confuse OCD with superstition. C’mon people, it’s an entirely different brand of loony. I don’t have a problem walking under ladders, nor do I knock on wood but I will wash my hands 50 or so times a day and jiggle the doorknob a few extra times even though I know it’s locked. Because I just fucking locked it!

Sigh.

I will never be on one of those reality shows tapping my nose against the window pain 7 times, pulling out my own hair or arranging things in my shopping basket a certain way in order to stave off a panic attack. This strikes even me as odd as I am normally such an all or nothing kinda gal. Yes, you read that correctly, I am surprised that I’m not specifically organizing my fridge condiments or omitting the letter R from my vocabulary. I don’t usually do things in such a half assed sort of way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for this, but am nonetheless, surprised.

My question is this; Are you superstitious? If so, are you compelled to be, or have you chosen to be?

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 11th, 2009

“I dream of giving birth to a child that will ask, ‘Mother, what was war?’”

-Eve Merriam