Precision Image Calculation

This a new shirt I bought today from a neat local art store called Mixed Media. It's supposedly made from characters from various signs in downtown Hamilton Ontario.

I also got a Death From Above (pre-1979) poster print from the Montreal Pop Explosion. Oh and Ryan McGinness wrapping paper! It's so good I almost want to give myself a gift...

What's this? What's THIS?! Yes, the second Squirrel Cage show which yours truly is involved has firmed up and is ready to be fierced. We're opening for Wax Mannequin, whom I was billed to play with as NFOTXN back in the day. But he bailed and I bombed a bit.

Either way! This is going to be super duper. Come one, come all!

PS: the poster is by Jelly, our singer. Isn't he just such the talented... turtle?

More band rehearsal. We'll be playing on the 21st at the Casbah, remember! The band opening for us, Hundred Heads, was playing in the studio across from us at The Imperial Cotton Centre.They sound pretty good, also Rob gave us some red wine. Pretty swell, eh?

Anyhow, in the Flickr set are some photos we took while we waited for our drummer to show up.

Lately I've been trying to better understand the intimate relationship that I've fallen into with the architecture and community of my post-industrial home town.

I guess it started with Matt running for Mayor then getting involved in publishing Mayday. Starting the job in Special Collections at the library dealing with the various city archives because of Rose...

Since starting in the SC's now I see every building in a different light. I like to call it The SC 'cause it's like The OC only for hopeless city nerds. Plus the soundtrack on my iPod had Imogen Heap on it like years before. But I digress.

I guess I could move to Toronto. Live in the Annex, go to school and get foods from an organic co-op. But then I'd just be joining something other people have already established. I still very well may. It's just more exciting to be involved in what's here. To realize the untapped potential in a dormant place, acting out an allegory for my own life.

So I am playing hooky from school today. By my calculations I am running an 84% average and I've completed all my work for the week that's been assigned thus far. Double plus my back hurts from the gym. Lots of rationalizations, I could go on for years like this. Or at least hours.

Hot times at the gym yesterday. Aprés work out a hot local buddy whom I'd not seen since the early summer working at Local Unionized Grocery Franchise Garden Centre was there. The gym has been good to him and I tried to make chit-chat whilst not staring too intensely at his now 33% more voluptuous everything. Unfortunately we both had places to go despite what seemed like mutual desires to rub man units.

There are many things to dislike about my post industrial town one thing I love is the Hamilton Farmer's Market. A 160 year old tradition that managed to escape the urban renewal that obliterated most everything else in the city during the late 1970s. What I find coolest about the market is that I bought broccoli and brussel sprouts from a farm that still operates up the street from the home my Grandfather built. The place my uncle and his family still live, well within the limits of the city and in fact a rather urban area nearby McMaster University.

I find myself going on riffs like this about my city and my relationship to it. What I realize now is that in the process of leaving home for the UK in 2002-2003 I was, inevitably, brought closer to a sense of where I'm from. It's a good feeling but presents the problem of moving away. If you were to ask me at 21 if I wanted to live in Toronto or somewhere larger I'd have answered with a resounding "yes!". But now I'm not so sure, I really like living in a town that I have such intimate, carnal knowledge of. I'll go where the best opportunities take me but I think I'll always come back.

Straight guys don't wear Priape jeans right? I mean in the age of metrosexuals what's a bear-identifying gay to think?

One of my hot regulars at work has totally sniffed me out. In this town fulla hot Portuguese men it's nice to know at least ONE of them is out of the closet!

Out of the closet.

It's actually pretty awesome how many queer people are regulars where I work. I mean Hamilton is an odd place. Because it's just outside Toronto (45mins, plus or minus traffic) most gays tend to flock to Church St. But we still hold our own here in our medium sized city.

There's the nice tranny who is way into organics who I haven't seen in a while. I have told off my co-workers like a zillion times for talking in hushed tones when they see her. It's so fucking tacky. Yes, she's a he who's a she or whatev'. Bet you don't have the balls to fuck with your born gender.

The creepy closet cross-dresser shops in men's clothing and always touches me with his long nails when he gives me his change. It sucks he is so repressed that he only dresses as a woman downtown. The skin on his finger tips is really soft. And his hairline so high.

I love the 30+ punk rock dykes. We talk about the latest in faux-hawk fashion technology and awesome food. Those ladies know their shit when it comes to various dips and whatnot.

There's a cute retired daddybear couple whom are obviously totally into each other, cruise as I might. Once I charged him for a patio set instead of like some other less expensive item. I think that may have limited my chances of dual-daddy cock action. C'est la vie, non?

There are of course all the bar proprietors and drag scene fixtures. Despite being a city of just over 500 000 people it's awfully gay here. It's no San Francisco but heck, even our former Mayor was a Mary.