Seventeen

Yes, it has come to this.

Nobody Looks Good in Flourescent Lighting

David Zilber, 2009

David is a butcher but actually spotted these bad boys while making a delivery. I've long been interested in taking a butcher class just for fun. I know, like when will I stop trying to convince the boys I'm cool. I did a wicked project on Ebola in grade eight primarily to impress them. This is probably where all the adrogeny stems from.
Shona just pointed out that there are going to be wicked hot political science nerds at Bush-Clinton this afternoon, so I better go start primping...also, got snuck into Powerball last night (THANK YOU SHANNON!). If you weren't keeping track, that's two 150+ tickets in less than 24 hours...and I didn't even have to put out.
Oh and by the way, the reason why I didn't go into McDick's last night was not because of the smell or animal cruelty or to not be tempted by the ice cream (the only thing I ever eat there), but the bad lighting.

Also I stole a cigar last night. Was unsure of who I would give it too, not remembering the obvious.

Decent Savage this week. His podcast is not as good as it once was, but he's still consistent with his column.

"...Using drugs is something you do, DRUGS, it's not something you are.
Look at it this way: If you stopped doing drugs today, DRUGS, you'd no longer be a drug user. If I stopped inhaling my boyfriend's pheromones - and cock - today, DRUGS, I'd still be a big homo. Because gay is like Cats ("now and forever"), while heroin is like Twitter (fun at first, sure, but you'll regret it one day). See the difference?..."

Especially the successful ones. The successful ones bored me to tears.
-Henry Miller, Tropic of Capricorn

nothing like a good...book.

olivia says:
i can't just read a book casually
olivia:
i read it
olivia:
ALL THE TIME
olivia:
until i finish

The Unthinkable

On Monday I got Thom to promise, once he was drunk, to take me to this Friday's Clinton & Bush conversation in Toronto if for some reason his uncle couldn't use his ticket. And then the unthinkable happened. While enjoying some Spaghetti Nero at a cute place on College (to the left of Utopia) with Matt and my mother, Thom called and said his Uncle couldn't make it. So all I have to do is get him drunk before and after the event (more after), and the ticket is mine.

I once waited seven and a half hours outside of Indigo for Bill to sign my copy of My Life. The closest I got was seeing some old white guy stick out his arm to wave from a limousine with the windows almost completely rolled up. Somehow I think Bill has better things to do.

I also spent the latter-half of my second year listening to My Life in order to fall asleep. This reminds me to download Dreams of my Father and The Audacity of Hope. My Life is actually fantastic, until he becomes president. At that point I started falling asleep right away. It's just alot of "I tried to do this but the congress..." and "I would have done that (her) but Hillary..."

All of this is not to justify my worthiness of this ticket. I guess it's just what blogs can sometimes result in.

!!!!!!!!!

Robert Rauschenberg (1926-2008)
Collection
1953-54

Explore it here.

Meh

I'm not sure if anyone else has noticed, but The Satorialist has been a little off lately.
Please see exhibit A, exhibit B, and, exhibit C.
Since when did unattractive guys drowning in vests, hooker shoes and token Indians from The Darjeeling Ltd. make the cut?

All Apologies

Le Baisier

The 3AM to 6AM time slot for a blog is hard to sell, just like on a radio station. That's why Werewolf is run by Derek at these hours. (Hint: this is not Derek).

Wow here's something weird for 6AM, or anytime, really.


Le Baisier
Joel-Peter Witkin
1982

Youth: Wasted, II

Dan Epstein, 2009

[Valentine I'm sorry but "youth: wasted" is just so good I can't stop using it. It might be a permanent fixture on MW (hint: this does not stand for Mitch Wong, Adrienne). I promise to give you a portion of the first dime I make off this thing...]

Francis Bacon's notoriously messy studio.

My Dad said he's half-jokingly thought about cancelling his Sunday NY Times subscription because he's sick of reading about things he wants to do and then realizing they're in New York and he's not. Enjoy the optimism of your 20s.

British Liz Lemon

Ever since Giuliani left, it's gotten harder to harvest hobo organs.
- Jack Donaghy

Bunny Slippers

I have three more days off before I have to work again. Here is a list of what I hope to accomplish:

1. Watch American Psycho for the first time. This has been a goal for a year or so now, so watching it will be quiet satisfying. Last summer's Dark Knight craze inspired a priority to have a week of all Christian Bale, all the time, but somehow ended up being a Daniel Day-Lewis marathon. I'm not complaining. Also I read my first Brett Easton Ellis novel last summer, which inspired a short-lived nickname of Brett Easton Alice. Thanks Deforge. You'd better believe I'm going to take you up on that wedding invitation. This is pointless, he's far too cool read my blog :(

2. Wash all my clothes. They all need washing. All.

3. Swiffer the main floor of my house.

4. Sweep the front porch. We have a nice one, except it's no 95 Lippincott...that was the best porch of all time. Glad I had two summers on it.

5. Scope out a sweet bar tomorrow night for Miss H's birthday this week. We're going to wander to a few places in the neighbourhood. Shots might be involved.

So yeah I guess my next three days involves cleaning, booze, and movies I'm watching ten years too late...welcome to summer 2009. I'm actually pretty stoked. OH and also the left half of my body is becoming increasingly numb. I might be having a stroke, but I don't smell burnt toast.

Lisa Marie Look-a-Like of the Week

Nicest part of Graceland: the plane, named after Elvis' only (known) daughter, Lisa Marie. Gold sink, double bed, yeah.

Remember that text you shouldn't have sent last night? We do.

In typical slow Saturday morning fashion, the interns are giggling this morning about textsfromlastnight.com

A few of our favourites so far...

"Blackberries need to come with a feature that disables to certain numbers after 2am based on content. liek disabling texting to 'dad' containing the words 'lets try to find more blow.'"

"i'm drinking out of my 'black like my president' mug"

"im surrounded by empty glasses of chocolate milk WTF"

"I chose taco bell over sex..."
"good choice."

Mama Leone's Ox Tail Sauce

Recently I was once again having that classic conversation about the "weirdest" thing you've ever eaten or had the opportunity to eat. For the record I was once offered Horse Sashimi in Kyushu, the south island of Japan. It was the speciality of the town we were staying in at the time. I gratefully declined; however, only recently learned that most horse meat is eaten on the raw end of things, which made me rethink my decision, sort of. I did once eat cow's tongue, mmmmm.

Anyway, if you've never tried it, ox tail is one of my favourite meats. It's cooked and served on the bone, broken up into small pieces. Someone asked me if it was actually what it sounded like, the tail of the ox. I honestly did not know, and concluded that it was the tail-end of the ox...wrong. It's the tail. of. the. ox. The Jamaicans cook it really well, but I've only ever used it in a pasta sauce. So easy. Try it. I think it's the year of the ox, too.

Mama Leone's Ox Tail Sauce

2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp butter
1 oz salt pork, sliced thick
¼ lb onions, diced
2½ lbs ox tail
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp fresh rosemary
1 bay leaf
1/3 tsp salt
1/3 tsp black pepper
pinch crushed red pepper
6 tbsp dry red wine
½ celery stalk, minced
1 carrot, diced
1 green pepper, diced
2 ripe tomatoes
2 cups beef broth


Combine oil, butter, salt pork and onions in large pot and cook to medium brown. Add oxtail and brown on all sides. Chop garlic and rosemary together and add to pot with bay leaf, salt, black and red pepper. Stir and cook 2 minutes. Add wine, cover, and cook for 3 minutes. Add celery, carrot, green pepper, tomatoes and cook for 5 minutes. Add broth and cook slowly for 1½ hours. Remove salt pork, bones and fat from ox tail, and adjust seasoning. Serve with polenta (I never do this) or heavy pasta.

(One of the very few things my psychologist during high school ever told me was that she had gone to Mama Leone's restaurant in NYC as a child. Probably my favourite cook book. The restaurant closed, I think, before I was born.)

Also, can someone please get this song out of my head? Thanks.

WHY I SHOULDN'T BLOG AFTER 4 HOURS OF SLEEP BEFORE WORK

I would like to spend the day in the bathtub.
If it was sunny outside today I might not have "slept in."
I gave a crack addict three dollars last night and she asked me for money again a couple of hours later and I told her I already had and she was very nice about it except her face looked more like the opium addicts I saw in Tokyo when I was seventeen.
I have never seen American Psycho and want to watch it this weekend and very very excited but scared I will not like it because I am regretfully or not seventeen anymore.

And Now for a Splash of Colour

Don't Worry Baby

Now I know why my Dad hates The Beach Boys. I told this was my favourite song of all time, which he accepted, grudgingly, but pointed out that it also has the worst/non-existent guitar solo of all time, which I also accepted, grudgingly. What he neglected to point out, however, was their awkward stomach clutching and bad lip-syncing (Ashlee Simpson, anyone?). But damn, those pants sure are high-waisted!

Also, Brian Wilson is arguably weirder then than he is now. It turns out physical abuse to the point of near-deafness does things to your head. Tasteless, I know; True, absolutely.

Strandzas reunion in only ten years!

So how long has this singing been going on?

Youth: Wasted

My idol.

Most people realize that, after spending their childhood defending Darren #1 (Dick York), Darren #2 (Dick Sargent) was actually hotter/better/cooler. The producers wanted Dick Sargent from day one, but due to scheduling conflicts, had to hire Dick York. After a horse-back riding injury, Dick York developed an addiction to pain killers and had to leave Bewitched. So they got Dick Sargent, eventually.

Feminist Spam

Toronto Women's Bookstore, PLEASE, for the love of God and the preservation of my (or what's left of) sanity, stop stop stop e-mailing me daily. I just don't care about your book launches (XYZ TRANSFORMATIONS OF URBAN SPACE: TRANSGENDERED AND TRANSSEXUAL EXPERIENCES OF THE CITY, or STUNNED: THE NEW GENERATION OF WOMEN HAVING BABIES, GETTTING ANGRY AND CREATING A MOTHERS’ MOVEMENT), your drum circles and your "inclusive" potlucks. These institutions hell-bent on making every single person, including "two-spirited folks," actually end up being the most exclusive, indoctrinated, and, quite frankly, annoying, collectives. (Collectives? What the hell is wrong with me? I blame TWB for my use of that word.)

Uhhhh.

Better in a basement on vinyl.
Also, one of the benefits of living with someone stuck in 1985.

(Video by Jonathan Demme, that Rachel Getting Married guy.)

Robert DeNiro, The Deer Hunter

Interesting fact: DeNiro has only ever had interracial relationships.

Priorities

I would really like a transcript of the bitch rant at the end of cot' damn.

Joseph Beuys (1921-1986)
I Like America and America Likes Me
1974

I dreamt last night that Kurt Cobain was on Charlie Rose.

Diane Arbus (1923-1971)
Child with Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park
1962

Wrong Ideas

Sometimes I miss the days when I thought being home alone at 12:45 on a Saturday night was socially acceptable, and tv romances were of the utmost importance.

Tutela Valui

For my graduating friends, a short piece critiquing the antiquated tradition of issuing diplomas in Latin, written by a Classics professor. Apparently while hippies at UC Berekely were protesting Vietnam in the 1960s, Bostonians at Harvard (yes I know it's in Cambridge) were engaged in the "Diploma Riots." In 1961 Harvard started issuing their diplomas in English, a transtion many students objected to.

(He also makes a hilarious almost non-sequetor about Eliot Spitzer's prostitute having a tattoo in Latin, Tutela Valui, which translates to "I use protection." Gold.)

XXX

Read Judith Warner's defense of this scandalous cover here.

Love, Boston

Dear Mourning Werewolf,

I hope you like this as much as I did. A quote:

In a world of changing values, mathematicians still count.

It was on a bumper sticker on a car parked on Commonwealth Ave. Now, ordinarily, I'd file this away in the "classic Boston" category, seeing as how it was right between BU and MIT. However, the car had plates from WEST VIRGINIA. The combination of the whole scene, funny quote and license plates made me LOL right there on Comm. Ave.

Maybe it only makes sense in context, but seriously, it was hilarious.

Surreal Things

Saw the new Surrealism exhibit at the AGO tonight. Turns out it costs $7, and I proceeded to spend my remaining $13 on a couple of cards in the gift shop. Only the main gallery is free on Wednesday nights. All of this is to say that it's definitely worth going to, and is easily the best exhibition the AGO has had since the Warhol show in 2006. Many have critiqued the AGO's new exhibition techniques; however, the architecture, unlike the ROM addition, has, overall, been well-received. I'm still on the fence: If Toronto wants to be a forerunner in new art gallery methods, however, I'd say we can't complain...

Anyway, Surreal Things explores the relationship between the Surrealism movement and Design/Commercialization. Many Surrealist painters, especially Magritte and Dali, accepted the mass production of their images. Some artists in the movement, including, I believe, Breton, thought that this industrialization was completely counter to the main tenets of Surrealism; however, I think that this a much more Dada frame of mind. Just a thought. The exhibition is not especially large, but quite cohesive. It has all the big stars and related artists -- Duchamp, Cornell, Magritte, Dali, Masson, and even a couple of films. Un Chien Andalou, not shown in Surreal Things, is short, funny and very entertaining. A good introduction to the wacky world of Surrealist Art and Film.

Surreal Things
AGO
May 9 - August 30

Kanye West, Jared Leto, Chase Crawford & Patrick Wilson
Calvin Klein Menswear Fall 2009 Fashion Show

Woah Mama.

The Cost of Drinking

I lost my beautiful Valentino Sunglasses on Monday night. Yes, that's right, I LOSE my sunglasses at night. I even returned to the Victory -- where they were last seen/remembered -- no such luck. Should I buy the same ones again? Oh, the tough questions in life.

1982

The Message

"It's like a jungle sometimes. Definitely. Great narrative and funky beat. And you can dance to it. I'd give it a ten! Wish I had speakers in the classroom to share it. Oh yeah, I DO." -my mom

The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even

Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968)
The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even (The Large Glass)
1923

Making sense of Marcel Duchamp.

Apparently Duchamp probably made his famous Fountain. An American Art Historian her concluded in her PhD thesis that no such urinal was ever made, after searching in vain through literally thousands of toliet catologues for the model Duchamp signed and submitted to the Society of Independent Artists show in 1917. He also wrote about in the Dada NY "zine" The Blind Man.

"The only works of art America has given are her
plumbing and her bridges." - Marcel Duchamp

Sylvia

The wedding scene in Sylvia (2003) has since made me fantasize at length about getting married alone in a Gothic Cathedral.

(Yes that is Daniel Craig.)

Fancy Funeral

Some think a fancy funeral
will be worth every cent
for every dime and nickel
is money better spent
better spent on groceries
covering the bills
instead of little luxuries
unnecessary frills
lovely yellow daffodils
and lacey filigrees
pretty little angels
for everyone to see
lilly of the valley
long black limousenes
three or four months salary
just to pay for all those things

So don't buy a fancy funeral
it's not worth it in the end
goodbyes can still be beautiful
with all the money that you'll spend
theres no amount of riches
bring back what you lost
to satisfy your wishes
you'll never justify the cost.

Look at This Fucking Hipster has been getting all the attention now that the 45 year olds at the Globe and Mail have figured out why the kids they see on the TTC dress so strangely, but I humbly posit its brethren Hipster or Gay is way more newsworthy/deserving of bookmarking. The guys featured on Hipster or Gay are bangin' like 75% of the time, if you're into plaid shirt Macbook white boys and I very much am. Perhaps LATFH and HOG serve different browsing purposes- chuckles and scorn vs orgasms and scorn, but I much prefer the possibility my attractive masturbation fodder is a fellow man-lover to flashy misses on mostly ugly people. (s'alright, i hope.)

-Amber C., of Ottawa

Georgia, Oh Georgia

...The Georgia state senate, by a 43-1 vote, has passed a resolution that mixes three parts inanity and one part prospective treason into a Kompletely Krazy Kocktail of militia-minded moonshine and wacko white lightning—a resolution that not only endorses defiance of federal law but also threatens anarchy and revolution...

Read more here.

I've long wanted to go Georgia. I've travelled through most of the American South, but have yet to visit the home of both Flannery O'Connor and Martin Luther King Jr., the adopted home of Elton John, a few distant cousins, and the state Matt spent his childhood summers in. Savannah is the city that most entises me, with its Civil War-era architecture, multiple graveyards, and the thick sweet air of...mystery? Whatever it is that draws me there, I hope to go soon. Driving there seems like the only way, so it may be a while before I find myself there.

Julius Knipl, Real Estate Photographer

A little political commentary to start your Friday.

Fever

Truth be told, I think John Travolta is a pretty terrible actor. Saturday Night Fever, however, is one of my favourite films.  That era of 1970s American Film is gold: it holds its own with some of my favouites, including The Deer Hunter, One Flew Over the Cukoo's Nest, Taxi Driver... and on and on.

SCANWICHES

Apparently this is a food day.
Possibly a side effect of the new 100% natural metabolism speeder-upper I'm trying.
Probably a side effect of drinking at 1pm.

Mmmm Scanwiches!
(Thanks Maria Sword)

HOBBIES GIRLS THINK THEY SHOULD NOT MENTION ON A FIRST DATE

BLACK Widow, I think we should start our own burger of the month club.

The Year of Magical Thinking

I've been wanting to read Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking since it came out in 2005. I saw her give a reading from it the year it came out with my parents and roommate at the time. We were all in tears by the end. The Year of Magical Thinking chronicles the year following the death of Joan's husband, writer John Gregory Dunne. They were together for 40 years, rarely apart. Shortly after the publication of the book, Joan and John's one and only daughter, Quintana, died as well.

One of the anecdotes from the book Joan shares with Charlie Rose is that while she never spoke about death, John, a true Irishman, was obsessed with it. He was constantly rewriting his list of friends to speak at his funeral, to reflect who he was currently on good terms with.

While fear of death is common, I would argue that this fear is particularly common among only children. Something about Joan's plight seems particularly possible in my own life, and thus I'm hesitant to start reading it, despite knowing how much I'll enjoy it. I highly recommend Slouching Towards Bethlehem, an early collection of essays.

Abracadabrah

Apparently this is what my dad does at work...watch mediocre magic videos.


Thanks Dad.

Bobama

PETA asked the Pet Shop Boys to change their name to the Rescue Shelter Boys. Not surprisingly, they graciously declined; however, they encouraged their fans to make the right decision and adopt animals from shelters.

Bo Obama, a Portuguese Water Dog, was a gift from Ted Kennedy to the Obamas. He finally found away to get another Kennedy into the White House! Bo has a "playdate" with my friend Kelly's boyfriend's aunt's dog. I hope they become best friends!

Wedding Dress

Atsuko Tanaka (1932- )
Electric Dress
1956

You Need Me: May 4th, 2009

“Beach House” may be one of the worst band names ever, relative to the quality of their music anyway. While I have no problem with beach houses per say, it doesn’t really conjure up anything significant in my brain in regards to music. Perhaps this is because of never been to a beach house before. In Ontario we go to cottages, which may or may not be on the beach. I think it’s mostly an American east coast thing. Beach houses are probably nice places, but they seem to have nothing to do with the somber, airy pop of either of these albums. I’ve included both albums of their catalogue for this entry because they sound very similar, and I just put them both in a playlist which totals about 80 minutes in length. I think this is pretty good winter music; I distinctly remember riding the bus to Buffalo during a terrible blizzard in February of 2008 listening to their first LP. And yet, it also works very well for Spring, particularly Canadian spring, which is kind of like defrosting your dinner in the fridge rather than the sink: it’s more drawn out, colder for longer, pretty wet, and yet you appreciate the final results all the more (perhaps).
Some people maybe find the vaguely romantic lyrics and general tone depressing. I don’t, but people are strangely sensitive about this kind of thing. I wonder what it is says about people who don’t listen to any mellow music because it sounds too sad. My friend Greg avoids anything sad-bastard, and it suits his character in my opinion. What’s that line from High Fidelity, “Was I listening to pop music because I was sad, or was I sad because I was listening to pop music?”
In any case, I don’t think this stuff is really much of a bummer. I find it very pleasant and maybe even romantic in a way. I can picture girls in particular liking this stuff, but my dad didn’t complain when it came on while a mix CD played as we drove, and if anyone is a man in this world, it’s dad (unless you live an Almodovar film).

Buy it here and here.
Download it here and here.

That Mountain Air

Mourning Werewolf is proud to welcome it's newest contributor, Dust Bunny. DB is working as a maid at the Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge for the summer and will be keeping a condom count going for MW...any guesses on a summer total?