I spent the week­end at Trolley’s place and had a great time. We just hung out, played Gamecube, and watched some movies. I’m not sure if I over­stayed my wel­come, but I’m sure that any good host is able to blur that fine line. It’s good to have anoth­er friend that I can con­nect with. Wheaties and Ian went ski­ing at Tremblant, and although I was invit­ed, I felt like I was­n’t pre­pared to spend over $100 on a lift tick­et with rentals.

Trolley also intro­duced me to Crank Yankers, a hilar­i­ous show on Comedy Central. The con­cept of the show is that peo­ple make crank calls, and both the roles of caller and reciev­er are played out using pup­pets. The crank calls are usu­al­ly very orig­i­nal though, some­times involv­ing a third par­ty (such as a moth­er pick­ing up the phone while her son is call­ing about a penis enlarg­er). Everything is very well done, and the actors are able to impro­vise their lines with per­fect pre­ci­sion depend­ing on what an unwit­ting par­tic­i­pant says. My favourite
series of crank calls are by Spoonie Love, the res­i­dent playa (played by SNL’s Tracey Morgan). Sometimes he’ll call a news­pa­per to place a clas­si­fied ad, and his mes­sage will involve bust­ing a dou­ble hor­i­zon­tal on some­one’s ass.

Thom lent me his Pantera DVD, 3 Vulgar Videos from Hell. The music has­n’t been that great, but the behind-the-scenes and con­cert footage is good. It’s also mes­mer­iz­ing to see the con­fi­dence that Phil Anselmo exudes at the con­certs, the way Danko Jones or Kid Rock seem to in their music videos.

I was awak­ened by Dolly scratch­ing at my sheets this morn­ing. As soon as I lift­ed them up, she went under­neath and tried to sleep on my stom­ach. Unfortunately, my thin frame did­n’t pro­vide much of a foun­da­tion, and she slid to one side, but even­tu­al­ly fell asleep there any­way. It’s the first time she has been com­fort­able enough to sleep under the sheets, instead of beside my head as usu­al.

I stum­bled across the site of an intel­li­gent girl who writes about things in rela­tion­ships not com­mon­ly dis­cussed, and who hap­pens to inhab­it the same city as I do. I enjoy the pol­ish and depth that her edi­to­ri­als have, but I think it’s her open­ness that I can appre­ci­ate most. It’s always fas­ci­nat­ing to find out a female opin­ion on some of the more taboo sex relat­ed sub­jects, instead of the opin­ion which oth­er guys believe they know.

The entire Columbia Space Shuttle inci­dent has made me feel like we’re still very prim­i­tive in our explo­ration meth­ods, and that we should sim­ply leave well enough alone until we’re ready. It’s like we’re try­ing to break the sound bar­ri­er again, and peo­ple are sac­ri­fic­ing their lives in the pur­suit of knowl­edge. I sup­pose that if they’re will­ing to make that sac­ri­fice, then their deci­sion must be respect­ed. Otto Lilienthal would be proud.