Ahoy hoy!
I'm very, very far away from my computer right now, somewhere in the thousands of kilometers (which is what we Canadians call a mile, for you yanks.) and I wasn't expecting the The Temp to link to my site this week. I apologise for the lack of real recent content, but I suppose that'll just give any new visitors something to bitch about. So read down this news page and enjoy some mild-to-moderate hilarity. If you're here visiting from Not My Desk, I'd love to hear from you, so drop me a line and tell me what you think of my little shrine to wasted potential.
By Ian on April 30, 2001 at 4:34 PM
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I'm headed to Ontario. I'll be back in 11 days. That's all I have to say about that.
By Ian on April 25, 2001 at 8:55 PM
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Re: My previous post
Hey folks! My last post was sort-of a new kinda post, where I make use of the ease of Blogger to rant and rave about whatever's in my head. I know that I made the last one seen like a generic sort of rant, but that was only because I didn't think the source upset would ever have the chance to bother me again. But she is/has/will have that chance, at least several more times, or so it seems.
Her name is Ashley Powers. She's 16, runs a website, is writing a book, and from the headline of a newspaper article I refuse to read, she's gonna be on TV soon. Maybe with her own damn show. Apparently, the whole Ashley Powers empire is based on the "We're teens (or maybe girls) and we can make a difference! Here's Advice! Here's Makeup Tips! Here's crazy ways to have fun spending thousands of dollars on our sponsors' products!" vibe that is already dominating teen-media. Now, I'm sure all of you are familiar with the phenomenon: Whenever a teenager does something like this, he or she gets all the fucking press in the world, because the adults of the world are so used to thinking of teens as hopless ragamuffins that it just puts them on their ass when one goes and accomplishes something.
This girl is a FULL-ON teenager, however. In the half-hour I listened to her speak, she expressed not one opinion that had any merit, or that seemed to be based on anything other than a catchphrase. I wish her all the luck in the world, because as far as I'm concerned, if you can convince someone to give you money to do anything, then that's good. But since she's gonna be famous for her angst-driven mediocrity, I want to go on record as saying I pegged this little bitch before anyone else knew who she was.
Thank you.
By Ian on April 9, 2001 at 12:01 PM
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A note for the teenagers:
I'm not going to turn this into a rant, because It would too easily get out of control. I was watching Politically Incorrect today, and it's teen week. The topics being discussed are far less important that the manner in which they were discussed. I'm not discluding myself here, but teenagers are so self-righteous. Everything is so plain and simple to them. Right is right, wrong is wrong, love is love, hate is hate, and their opinions are so fierce and unyeilding.
Yet they're at an age where they don't have the capacity to form a real opinion. No matter how smart or how mature, they don't have the breadth of experience or the focus of wisdom to rationally decide anything. They're pawns of their social order, and little more than a mass of pre-programmed responses. Even the most intelligent and articulate among them fail to understand that there is an entire universe beyond their perceptions, and that ignorance is a tangible barrier for them. It's almost as though they have a collective mental block that stops them from seeing more than one side to a story.
Ignorance is the hallmark of humanity. There is so much that we don't know, and so very much that we decide, individually, is unimportant or even unknowable. The only thing that separates a teenager from a young adult is the understanding that we're ignorant.
I'm by no mean at the pinacle of where my life will take me, but it's a staggering leap between 16 and 21, and it's a leap they don't even know that they'll make. Even the few teenager who claim to understand the state in which they live are lying. Even their modesty and acceptance are... forced. How did I and my friends, as young adults, come from that? What triggers growth into adulthood, when and why do you finally learn to say "I'm so fucking wrong, I have no idea what's going on, and I have no opinions that are worth anything"?
We are who we are, and the learning is where all the good stuff is. I don't bear teenagers any grudge, I just hope they get it all figured out okay.
By Ian on April 6, 2001 at 11:05 PM
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It’s Been A While...
At least, it has been for me. The past couple days I have been stuck out, snowed-in, shacked-up, and well fed at Kat’s parents house in the country. A mere 6 kilometers from the nearest highway, but may as well have been on fucking Jupiter.
People, we are natures bitches. When nature says, “that squirrel shall die”, you had better believe that little nut collecting bitch’s life has come to an end. This weekend nature said, “white is a good color, let’s go with that”, and BAM, down it comes. It snowed for days, people.
By the end of it, had I ventured out into the great white open, naked as the day I was born (or those alcohol-inspired clothes sheddings between that day and this one), the drifts would be at a convenient height to cup my short-comings in a brisk, tingly embrace. The snow was deep, people.
In the end all, the most inspiring sight I have seen in years appeared over the crest of the hill in the form of a snow plow. We were out hours later, and glad to be home. Although, the food was excellent, and staying another night, although dreadful to think of earlier today, wouldn’t have been all bad. They have satellite, people.
-Colin
By BIG Sexy on April 4, 2001 at 2:01 AM
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Well, it was a crappy day today because Safeway is populated almost entirely by ungrateful bastards. Their precious parcel pickup service would have remained crippled all damn day if not for my tireless efforts. Not to mention my handy feat with the bags, and my selfless transport of the palette (which resulted in three wood splinters, all of which were painfully embedded in my hand.).
So I could've wallowed in a nasty mood all god-damned day, but my savior came and made it all Okay. Chelly came to visit me at work, then we went out for supper later at Boston Pizza and talked. It was splendid and perfect except for Wayne, our "server", which is what you call them because heaven-fucking-forbid we use gender specific titles anymore! Anyway, Wayne belongs to the "you're not being a good server unless you ask them how they're doing every five goddamned minutes" school of "serving", so naturally he's as annoying (but not as fun) as a dull pencil poked right into your eye. Then we bummed around Chapters while we waited for Tomcats to start, which it did, as movies tend to do. While at Chapters, I apparently indicated that I would remember a certain song, but all I can think of is Workin' in a Coalmine by Devo. So I failed miserably.
But the movie was good, the company was without equal, and the whole evening may just have done the trick and killed those doldrums which have been plaguing me for a year, or ten days... depending on your point of view. Thanks, Chelly. You're the best.
I also got laied, with a nice, soft cock to boot. And I have the opportunity to pop two cherries. =)
By Ian on at 1:12 AM
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After an absence that seems, quite impossibly, to stretch back farther than I've actually known her, Michelle returns today from her family vacation to Hawaii. At least that is the plan, but the alarming snowfall in Calgary yesterday and last night may have resulted in some flight delays, or perhaps inspired the Richards family to move somewhere on the planet actually inhabitable by normal human beings.
In any event, I hope they all had a very safe and enjoyable holiday, and Michelle: I've missed you terribly. I can't wait to see you.
Monkey.
By Ian on April 3, 2001 at 6:56 AM
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Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Ian Wallace sells out like a bitch!
For the first time in it's illustrious and totally uncelebrated history, ianwallace.com features a banner ad. Certain websites mean a great deal to me, consistently providing the highest calibre of entertainment and stimulation. It is my wish that at least one small part of this, my humble corner of the web, calls attention to those other sites I love so much. So watch for more banners to be added to the rotation soon, and please don't hesitate to recommend
a site that could use a little free advertising.
Does your website have a banner? Would it have a banner, if only that banner had a chance to be seen? Want me to make you a frickin' banner, you lazy slacker? e-mail me and I'm sure I'll be happy to accomodate you. I ask nothing in return, for a link given willingly is the finest gift a humble servent of the net could receive. Or some other bullshit like that.
By Ian on April 1, 2001 at 10:02 PM
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Blogger comes to ianwallace.com! Blogger is this dynamic news posting tool that everyone else in the universe already knows about, according to their online literature. I won't belabour you with the technical details, because I would then be forced to reveal that I have as much understanding of the technical details as I have of the behavioural patterns of Atlantic Cod. HTML Magic is my best guess, but it's good magic; not the kind you want to burn.
When you see a post with the jaunty little "B" logo in the header, you'll know that Colin or I have posted some delightful nugget using Blogger. For larger, more involved posts I'll probably stick to my traditional method, because it affords me a little more control. And the option to change the fucking title. Which you would think the folks at Blogger would have recognized as a good idea, but I'm sure they'll get right to it when they're done tittering maniacally.
By Ian on at 5:12 PM
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If I were a plant, what kind of plant would I be? I get asked that question a lot. More than most questions in fact. Ussually, I give it little consideration. Then, I realise, that most people judge you on how you answer their questions. How, oh how, could I have been so stupid; so foolish. If this is the most frequent question I'm asked, then, in turn, it must also be the most important. The most influential question on the planet. If you were a plant, what kind of plant would you be?
Tell you what...I'll give it some serious though, and I'll get back to you.
-Colin
By BIG Sexy on at 3:02 PM
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