While I'm Into Music... Here's Jack White

Once again, Jack White has taken one of my ideas and gone mainstream with it. After reviving the blues spirit in rock, the two-piece band and the girl drummer (all with the same band while I did it with 3, he's good at condensing!)...

I've always said my biggest wish in music would be to front an all-girl band. Said it loud, said it proud. Tried to do it for one song in a studio with two different sets of members and it never panned out properly...

And he goes and does it on Saturday Night Live of all places...

Better Know A Hottie: Alizee Paradis

You're a star athlete in College, yet no one pays attention to your stats; instead, they focus on your looks and the ''outrageous'' things you do when you go out with your friends. They're surprised to find out how much alcohol your body can take, not knowing that genetics - like being born in Québec - is part of the recipe of your success.

College ends and you don't know what to do. You turn the way people look at you into a job - and you become a model.

That's exactly what Alizée Paradis did, and it's working fine for her so far.

Busted Coverage called her the sexiest NCAA female athlete of the decade, and she turned it into a photoshoot and runway model job.

Her blog posts are fun to read, too.

Hot Chicks In Batman Shirts

Yes, even hotties like The Bat. The real Batman, not Christian Bale.

Urgh, just writing his name gave me shivers, and probably cold sores, too.

In any event, check the blog here.

Goaltending Styles

I've been asked a few times what my goaltending style was, when I was playing hockey, and I thought now was as good a time as any to answer. Standing at 6'3''covering half of the net standing up was not a problem, and going down on my knees in butterfly style, my pads would cover the complete bottom of the net, roughly a foot high; my shoulders would still reach the cross-bar, so the middle part of the net was covered, and I just needed for my glove and blocker to be fast enough to cover the space on either side of my chest.

When standing, my basic position resembled that of Jeff Hackett, pictured below, with the legs in a bit of an upside-down V, (but not exaggeratedly so like Cristobal Huet here), the stick blade flat on the ice, and my glove at hip level (I was quick enough to raise it on time to cover the top corner when need be):

But, more importantly, was where my concentration would lie when play was stopped - and that was more reminiscent of Craig Anderson, pictured below...

Except, you know, my mouth wouldn't be open in awe.

Playing Robert Pattinson

No, I haven't seen the Twilight movies, and hopefully I never will have to. I haven't read the books either, but that's because I'm still reading things I haven't read from my favourite authors: William S. Burroughs, Hunter S. Thompson, Charles Bukowski, Paul Éluard, Daniel Pennac, and a slew of others that get in the way.

But Kristen Stewart is in town filming On The Road, directed by Walter Salles, based on the Jack Kerouac book of the same name (who many don't know is actually of Quebecer origin - although he never lived here himself, proper - both of his parents being natives of La Belle Province - he even initially started On The Road in Quebec French!).

Now, I was never a fan of Stewart's (again, not a Twilightee), but I'd seen a few films she was in, such as The Cake Eaters and The Messengers - typical ''meh'' Hollywood fare. But her turn as Joan Jett in The Runaways was fucking dead-on. Flawless. Perfect.

And since Megan Fox is taken (just kidding! just adding to my readership count again!)... maybe I could take on acting myself, play her boyfriend, film a love-making scene... just for fun.

Thursdays At The Mad Hatman's

It'd always be an unusual night when we'd go drink at the Mad Hatman's; strange characters were drawn to whatever crowd I'd be with, and we were all the better for it.

This time around, Mexicalex wanted to get his drinking on in ways he hadn't in a long time. His original plan was to bar-hop from downtown to my place, drink a beer in every bar on the way. I talked him out of it, even if it took all night, but it wasn't easy, and no bar was co-operating.

First we tried to hit the sports bar - The Sports Stallion - with $17 for 4-liter pitchers, but it was full. Maximum capacity reached, for reason of basketball game. Who the fuck watches the NBA playoffs in Montréal???

Upon refusing us entry, the door guy directed us across the street, to the Cock'N'Balls, saying ''it's the same concept, same owners, just less crowded''.

Yeah, I'd just spent an hour explaining to Mexicalex why the place now sucked: the previous owners had been kicked out of there by their shady landlords but hadn't copyrighted their name, and when over a year had passed that no tenant wanted to pay the extremely high rent, the landlord just re-opened the bar under new management, taking it upon himself to register the name and steal the business. And now I'd learned they also owned the sports bar with decent, affordable beer, and I was going to have to boycott that place too.

Push came to shove and stumbling became walking, and our feet led us to the Mad Hatman's, where we'd spent many a fantastic night in previous incarnations of the place, be it the one five steps down from its current location, or the one on Newhouse street. Even before that, it had been on McPeel street, but those are memories I'd rather forget. In any event, Mexicalex hadn't seen the new location, and I'd only been there thrice myself, so it seemed logical to delve into a pair of seats and experience ourselves a new past. It made sense at the time.

The first table we hit was leaking. Well, technically, it was being leaked on, from the ceiling. Or, rather, probably, from the men's room on the other side of the ceiling. So we moved two tables away.

We had a good time, as I usually do when drinking and talking with friends. Some serious subject matter, some abject, some humourous... always spontaneous. It was a great time. Then we were interrupted by an Oversized Child who seemed to want to pretend she didn't speak French, although it was clear she was fluent in it. What was also clear was that she wanted to get into Mexicalex's pants, although to his defense, as soon as he realized it, he made tremendous efforts in trying to convince her that he already had someone worthwhile in his life and didn't want to jeopardize it by engaging in anything more than discussion, which only led to more serious discussion about dark topics like The State Of the World.

Oversized Child (picture a baby, now make it 5-feet tall) had a friend, blonde, with intellectual/sexy secretary glasses who came to refill her glass at some point. Oversized Child told her: ''Kittie, come sit with us'', and Kittie glanced at the three of us and opted not to, but I said ''she'll be back, she'll sit right in that chair''. An hour later, she did. Lucky for me, Kittie was less gloomy and saw more humour in the world than her counterpart, so we soon got into our own conversation about British politics, dead baby jokes, and her boobs - she started it. All in all, for each of our interests, it was a good night. It would have been if it had ended right there.

Unfortunately, that isn't really the case. First off, Kittie told me to meet her back at the Mad Hatman's the next night, between 8 and 9. Then Mexicalex got hungry, and we went to Harvey's, the terrible hamburger place. I had the vomit burger and he had the vomit chicken burger; what fucking crap, and a terrible way to lose ten bucks. I should have eaten my money instead. Also, I went back the next night, got there at 9:15, neither of them in sight, had a pitcher of Rickard's White and a tasty burger-and-fries drenched in Louisiana hot sauce, then left as they still hadn't entered the premises. I'd been stood up.

I went home and went to bed. Unlike the eve of, this was a day to forget.

Girls In Their Summer Clothes

I love Montréal in the summer, the weather, the sun, the humidity, the cleavage, the legs, the tummies, the women smelling of fresh flowers and and passion...


Some disagree, it's either their m.o. or their prerogative, but either way... fuck them.

But I see nothing wrong with a downtown like this

populated with creatures like these:

Semi-Fail

I was hoping I'd get 30 posts in 30 days in April in each my sports-and-chicks blog and this one...

With this post I'm at 29 here, with a little over an hour to spare. I'm at 26 there...

So close!

I probably would have made it if not for having posted in my French blog 5 times and the political blog I share another 4 times.

Oh, well, there'll always be next month!

Quote of The Day

From Matt Grande, software developer from Hamilton, Ontario.

He has a blog: http://mattgrande.wordpress.com/

More importantly, he said this:

Remember, no matter how beautiful she is, someone, somewhere, is tired of her shit.

True on so many levels.

Thanks, Matt.