I'm Gonna Bust my Shoes, I'm Gonna Bust my Socks, I'm Gonna Spread my Word from Standing on this Box

So, here's the latest:

I, after the Great Hard-Drive Disaster of 2006, have been limping along listening to nothing but Sublime and DJ Shadow, mostly because I was too lazy to find anything else. Yesterday I decided to agressively reacquire my collection of Beastie Boys music. It's kind of like falling in love again, except instead of draining my wallet and my energy, I just get to rock out to some serious doody-rhymes.

Of course, this was greatly helped by my discovery of DJ Green Lantern's Beastie Boys Remix album New York State of Mind. Find it, listen to it. That's basically all you need. If you're up to the challenge, go through his site and find the sample tracks for a listen. It's all done in flash, though, so I can't give a link. It's in the "store" section and this album is the one on the bottom left, the cover is all black and white. His remix of "Hold it Now Hit it" did it for me, and the rest of the album doesn't disappoint.

This renaissance of B-Boy grandeur got me on a quest for more interesting tidbits of theirs that I don't possess. I didn't get too far, but I have a target in my sights, and it has grabbed my fancy so that I even stuck it in as my new tagline at the top of the blog. Def Before Dishonor (silly american spelling...) is quite rare, apparently. I've found a copy on Ebay, but I have absolutely no idea how to go about acquiring it. Anyone who wants to help me with that (or give their favourite bearded friend a very special birthday present) please email me.

Def Before Dishonour is an excellent segue into my next important topic: Captain Dan and the Scurvy Crew, check them out. I recommend scrolling down and watching the video for "Black Beard's Treasure". I predict this sort of music becoming a leading factor in my life when I move back to Stratford in January and get to spend more time with Carl.

Oh yeah, I'm moving back to Stratford in January for anyone who didn't know. I think I've mentioned that my first co-op term is coming up and that I'll be spending it at the same place I worked last summer. And the summer before that. And that. And the one before that. But this time I've been hired into a new position created just for little old me. I had a meeting with the CEO last Friday and she basically told me that my duties are just going to be general bitch-work for every department, with, probably, a focus on my own former department. Of course, she failed to let me know during the meeting that the only reason I'd be spending a lot of time in my old department was that she fired my old boss the night before! That's right. In no way shape or form have I been hired to replace my boss, but that's what it looks like, and I'm planning on making the most of that to all the people that I need to work with. I'm pretty sure that I even convinced the CEO to give me his old desk, so it'll be awsome.

On another note entirely, I received some strangely preceptive comments on my last full-length post from one Sharmin Chaltra. Aside from being named after a questionably soft brand of toilet paper the man seems to be alright. However, I know from long experience that interesting people don't just happen upon my blog (even if I am the first hit for a Google of my name...), and so, having just been lambasted by Binks for my lack of credible Googling skillz, I decided that I would try and determine who this person was. I picked his profile apart for anything really interesting. I decided that the photo was my best bet. It looked faintly familiar, but I couldn't remember where from. I thought that it might have been a movie, but which one in particular still eludes me to this day. The I noticed that the picture was linked from a Myspace profile. This was my big break. The address was:

http://myspace-173.vo.llnwd.net/00523/37/10/523780173_m.jpg

A search for the entire address was useless since nothing came up, ditto for portions of the address past the .net part.

So I Googled http://myspace-173.vo.llnwd.net/ and sifted through the results until I reached the 43rd page, where I found the photo leering back at me. Of couse, my work was far from over. The guys profile was restricted and I don't have a Myspace account with which t view it, but this is it, for anyone who's so inclined.

I ended up working from the Google page. The first thing I found was that his address was myspace.com/coleisme I don't know anyone named Cole, so this was slightly annoying. However, I felt that if I could read his profile, I might glean some more information. So, you know how Google gives you about 2 sentences of whatever it finds on a page? Yeah, I copy/pasted those sentences back into Google and read the sentences after them for a while. Nothing too interesting emerged. I was busy devouring a list of his favourite books

when

This came up in the first hit instead of his Myspace page. It's a Flickr page, and apparently our friend was too lazy to write a different profile for it than for his Myspace page. I'll save you the trouble of looking through it: This was, apparently, my elusive quarry. Now, the title of the picture is "Cole is sick in Mccleod Ganj", not knowing what Mcleod ganj was, I assumed (much like a certain high-school principal) that it was something to do with drugs. So, as a way to find out where the man was, I googled the name of the business behind him in the photograph. That took me to some promotional journal about Mclead ganj. I was having issues connecting, so I used Google's html version of the page to read it. I learned that a) Mcleod ganj is a city in India, which gave me an idea.

I'm a pretty arrogant person. I'm not gonna lie. It galled me slightly that this guy had walked into my blog and left his perceptive commentary without even bothering to acknowledge who he was or how he'd found me.

My response was tempered and crafted to provide the ultimate rebuke to his unspoken challenge. It was aimed at the centre of the mysterious cloud which covered him. Read it yourself. As far as I was concerned it was a sublimely casual way of letting him know that I knew just about everything about him, in spite of his attempts to keep it from me. It was a veritable cruise missile of cool employed as the first-strike option in a shock-and-awe campaign.

Which failed to hit, apparently. If you bothered to look at the comments you'll know that he denied ever going near the ganj which, given my photographic evidence to the contrary, hinted pretty strongly that it wasn't him. He went on to mention that he'd found me through Blake, when Blake had offered unsolicited opinions on one of his older blogs. Now, he names Blake as Jesus, which he hasn't gone by for some time, and the blog that he says Blake commented on, Car Full of Cash, no longer exists (although it certainly seems to have influenced the name of his current one). Is he telling the truth? You, my readers, may be the judge.

In any case, he's got a blog. It just seems to be the ramblings of another english student somewhere in the world. I've linked to it because the subject material has caught my fancy for now. I haven't left any comments because I'm uncomfortable giving literary advice to people I don't know. However, I doubt that Blake has any compunctions about it, and neither should you, dear reader.

Two more items of business before I sign off:

One: What the fuck happened to Jen? Can anyone read her blog anymore? Have I been excluded for a reason?

Two: My birthday is coming soon. Clear your schedules for the afternoon/evening of the 27th, and probably the morning and afternoon of the 28th if you want to be able to recover properly. While I don't have anything special planned for this year, I am excited to announce that I'll be hosting in conjunction with the lovely M-TOD, as her birthday falls the day before mine.

The format should be pretty much the same as many years past:

-I wake up late and curse having already missed half of my birthday

-I put the telephonic word out and engage in general merry-making throughout the afternoon

-I kick everyone except my really special friends out and eat dinner with them and my family. This dinner will hopefully be the traditional greasy mound of A&W burgers on the family china

-Prezzies follow. These are not required from anyone who doesn't share a really significant portion of my chromosomes. If you really want to buy me something, get booze and we can share it. And by "booze" I mean high-quality vodka, otherwise you're on your own

-At this point I reestablish contact with everyone that I kicked out as well as greeting new faces invited purely for the party itself and the drunken festivities begin. With any luck, we all get smashed, no one throws up, and Carl doesn't try to steal my party like he did last year... Or maybe that was 2 years ago. I can't remember. There's a good chance that he did it both times

The nitty grits:

-Don't invite anyone who I don't know. Don't let it be known that I'm having a party and tell all of your friends to come. I have enough friends to make things cozy at my place, I don't need any more. M-TOD's friends are the obvious exception. Also, my siblings are all of partying age, and I'd expect them to bring a friend or two to keep them company. Although I know most of their friends anyway so it's kind of a moot point

- Don't touch anything. The party will most likely be in my shed. The shed will probably be full of breakable objects. I will do my best to have these packed away, but they will still be there. Don't open any boxes, crates, etc. If you find something interesting, put it down and don't think about it. If I find you playing with my stuff while I'm drunk you'll be lucky to escape with a harsh mocking

-If you insist on drinking enough to make yourself throw up, I'm planning on providing a set of buckets/ garbage pails in my backyard for you to employ. No one is going to be passing out in my bathroom, so bear that in mind before you incapacitate yourself. You might want to employ a buddy system or something so that you don't freeze to death in my backyard

-On that note, I'm going to ask males to pee outside somewhere in my backyard. I'm trying not to annoy my folks by having a constant stream of drunken revellers running in and out of my house from the bathroom, so let the ladies use it. If you need to take a dump, kick yourself in the ass and remind yourself to go before you come next time. Also, don't pee on the path from my house to my shed. a) No one wants to walk on your piss, b) you'll make it icy and dangerous, and drunkards are notorious for not having the greatest balance

-I don't have plans for anyone to stay at my house. Exceptions can be made for people who live out of town and/or are too drunk to drive home. However I have limited room, so that will stay the exception and not the rule. Also, be sure to keep in mind that there will be:

-No fornication of any kind of my property. Keep it above the belt, and try to leave the drama at home. This is not a suggestion.

If we all try and follow these rules, everything should go swimmingly.

Time for dinner. Three cheers for peanut butter and jelly.

Edit:
It appears that the-person-who-is-not-Sharmin-Chaltra's Myspace page has become unlocked, as I can now see it easily. I discovered this as I checeked all of my links for this post. Apparently this person has his own blog, and you can check it here. However, since i really don't know the guy I haven't left any comments, and I won't be linking to him. He seems like a pretentious indie freakshow anyway.