not buying it today.

I'm not buying anything today.

I don't think I'm better than anyone, and I'm not doing it because Adbusters told me to.

I'm still pissed about Adbusters screwing up my order for guilt free sneakers. Just like hippies. Sell you on an idea and then forget to follow through.

I'm not buying anything because this morning a Walmart employee was trampled to death by a mass of consumers. They didn't even stop when the paramedics and cops arrived. Just kept on shopping with a vengeance. Just like the above fish. All teeth and cold eyes.

There is nothing worth dying for in Walmart.

I don't feel like being identified as a shopper today.

I suppose I do think I'm better than some people.

blog statistics.

Recently a popular Montréal blogger (I really hate that word - let's call him a journalist. It sounds much more exciting) linked to my video of a baby squirrel. Fagstein gets more hits than me, and as a result many people clicked on the link to see the cute squirrel that temporarily confused me for a much larger squirrel.

I had a sudden jump in internet traffic. Everyone was stopping by to look at the cute baby squirrel, not leaving an encouraging comment, and then promptly pulling back out into the information super highway.

I was excited, expecting that book deal, or at least to create the latest viral video and be invited to the Oprah show to have middle aged american ladies scream and clap and go 'AAhhhhhh' as my cute squirrel baby captures their easily manipulated hearts... and then I imagine Oprah would say something like 'LOOK UNDER YOUR SEEEAATTSS!!! EVERYONE IS GOING HOME WITH THEIR OWN BAAABBBBBYYY SQUIRRELLLL!!!!'


This has not yet happened.

[Lately, with French Panic working at home too, I've taken to having an extended coffee break around the time Oprah comes on. I'm warming up to her, I suppose.]

And my traffic quickly returned back to the usual average.

With all the temporary attention, my hubris got the better of me, and I returned to my obsession with hits and page views.

Here is what I learnt; I get hits everyday for a post I did regarding the infamous man purse. So much so that I am now the number 3 hit in google images. Anyone in the world searching for a photo of a man purse eventually wanders by my blog.


You'd think this would give me thousands of hits.

You'd think this would make me unbelieavably happy.

It does not, for both.

I did receive a somewhat angry comment from someone accusing me of being narrow minded regarding man-purses and questioning my Canadianism. Perhaps my humour didn't come across properly. Perhaps that person is an idiot. Everyone has a limit. Mine is man purses. I am encouraging of satchels and I believe it is a combination of fabric, strap length and method of carry that distinguishes the two.

What pisses me off about this is that no one stays past the image. I doubt people even read the post. And it has to be one of the worst pictures that I've posted here. Is that the extent of my internet fame?

So what makes a blog a success? Apparently gossip about famous people, bad photos of famous people, bad photos of naked ladies/famous people, muttering about your religious beliefs, giving far too much information about your sex life and of course, mommy/marriage blogs.

I will not be writing about my sex life.

I've decided that internet fame is not worth it. This humble little blog will not make me rich or famous and I can live with that.

I will continue to fight the man purse.

a bike in Montréal.

angry, drunk baby.

Near and Far.



Here is the full version of my interview with Mark Near and Rob Phillips, otherwise known at Near and Far or Dumb and Dumber, best friends since grade 8. How many of us are still best friends with anyone from grade 8?

Well not me, anyhow. Grade 8 sucked.

Near and Far work for Alberta Rapattack which is group of forest fire fighters that rappel from helicopters.

31 seconds of cute.

This baby squirrel was the second one to jump into my hand in 2 days. I think it was just a sudden spring snow storm that confused them.

Or I am the squirrel whisperer.