Run Lola Run!

So now that I'm back home again, there are many interesting and exciting events. One of them is that there are coyotes roaming our windy suburban streets. The mangy curs have eaten a couple of dogs that were blocked in by those electric perimeters. The dogs can't get out or they get shocked while the coyotes are free to get in. So the coyotes saunter on in and eat the dogs, but not before dragging them outside of the electric fence and into the street. It's very insensitive. I actually saw one of the coyotes tonight, it was my first glimpse of wildlife since Dirk. I called the cops to report it, but I think they thought I was drunk, but I was really just tired. Anyways, it's kind of a scandal because some people are afraid of letting their dogs outside. Others think that those people are just being soft. Our faire citye will soon collapse. Regardless, there was a survival article in the Grosse Pointe News today. I am going to quote the entire thing because it is so ridiculous. It sounds like how Don Delillo would have written in high school. Oh yeah, and keep in mind that this article was on the front page.

December 24, 2009
Kathy Rinaldi walked around the corner of her house and into the stare of the coyote that had just tried to eat her dog.

"There he was, standing big as life, bold as can be," Rinaldi said.

"Get the hell out of my yard," she yelled.

The coyote stood a moment longer.

"Not even afraid."

Then he took off.

"They trot like a horse," Rinaldi said.

That is definitely my favorite part of the article. There are American values and chills. There is also some ambiguity as to who is saying "Not even afraid." Is it the woman? Is it the coyote? Who knows. Anyways, the rest of the article is as follows.

She and her husband wrapped their injured dog, a 13-pound, nearly 3-year-old Havanese named Lola, in towels and rushed her to a 24-hour veterinary clinic.

"She has about six puncture wounds and a laceration," said Rinaldi. "She's lucky to be alive. She has to be on antibiotics for two weeks."

The attack happened at about 11:15 p.m. Thursday, Dec. 17, in the Rinaldi's illuminated, unfenced backyard on Belle Meade in Grosse Pointe Shores.

Lola had just been let out, hooked to a leash so she couldn't roam, before bedtime. Rinaldi had just sat back down inside the house when the dog cried out.

"It was almost like a human scream," Rinaldi said. "My husband and I flew up. I opened the door. She was scooting around from the backyard to the patio. She was holding her leg up, bleeding and howling."

Rinaldi said the vet who treated Lola was the same one who tended the Cavalier King Charles a coyote killed two weeks ago on Dodge Place in the City of Grosse Pointe.

"The vet said these animals (coyotes) are capable of getting over fences to attack their prey," Rinaldi said. "The vet told me I may have been fortunate to have Lola on a leash because coyotes usually just grab them and run."

She's been seeing coyotes on the street for about 2 1/2 years.

"We have tons of small dogs on this block," Rinaldi said. "The coyotes are ready and waiting."

She also frequently babysits her nearly 2-year-old granddaughter.

"I'm afraid to have her in the backyard," Rinaldi said. "She's little, too. A lot littler than a coyote."

Rinaldi feels guilty for putting Lola at risk.

"My husband's been telling me not to put her out on the leash at night by herself," she said. "That's what I did. She was like bait. My wish is that (people) know they can't leave their animals unattended in the yard."

Rinaldi said her sister-in-law on Oxford near Holiday in Grosse Pointe Woods sees coyotes regularly.

The sister-in-law suspects Holiday has become a coyote corridor linking open spaces at the country club in the Farms and Lochmoor Club in the Woods.

Here is a picture of our little champ:

And to be honest, I don't know why they even bothered to mention 2 year olds. I also didn't really know what a coyote was. Here is a picture:

Vicious, eh?

Source: http://www.grossepointenews.com/Articles-i-2009-12-24-241162.112112_Dog_survives_attack.html

Well, I Guess That's It

So I handed in a whopping 6000 word essay to my professor last night - the first of 5 missed homework assignments that I was planning on handing in this weekend. I woke up this afternoon to this glorious email, informing me that my days of university are over, as these "precises" or "preces" (I'm not sure which is the proper term, it was misspelled on the syllabus) were the only things I had left to write before I started packing for home.

Also, I had managed to get a 25 or so percent on my exam, which was 22%. These precises were a weekly deal and worth 28%. Frankly, I think that the professor's expectations were insane.

Here we are. PHIL498B - Intensive Kant Seminar. Email from Prof. VZ:

Kyle,
you have managed to miss even the absolute deadline for late submission of precises. As a sign of good will, on a basis of rough reading I am giving you 50%. But that is it!
V.Z.

Funny, right? It makes me think of a movie about high school in the 80's.

I better get those old AP scores ready to send to the university.

Baby, It's Cold Both Inside and Out

I woke up late this afternoon after finally watching Duck, You Sucker! which was so good, I kind of want to watch it again even though the movie is almost three hours long. But I also downloaded The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, so I should probably just watch that instead.

But anyways, I woke up this morning, right, and it was pretty cold outside. My sister told me that it was 0 degrees Fahrenheit here. I wasn't able to verify this, as I was still in bed. So I was lying there cold and unwilling to get out of bed even though it was dark already, and I was lying there, right, just lying there in bed kind of cold, right? And you know when you're lying there in bed, just lying there like everyone does every once in a while, and you start to get hungry, and then you have to pee, but you're lying there, and you just want to keep lying there, so you don't get out. Well let me tell you, among other things, I started thinking about food. So I asked myself: "Kyle, what do you want for dinner?" And I answered myself: "Why, Kyle, a big pot of chili sounds right delicious." So I kept laying there for a little while going over the ingredients that I might need, and then I got my computer and brought it into bed with me, and then I went on facebook and checked my email, gmail, and Reader. And then I thought: Jenny's blog has a delicious looking chili recipe, made even more delicious by the fact that she put some coffee in it. So I called for Dirk to help me out of bed, and he brought me my pants and helped me put them on and told me to dress warm on my way to the grocery store.

So...that's the chili down below. I pretty much used Jenny's recipe except I think I put in a lot more tomato than she did, using a large can of whole tomatoes and a large can of diced tomatoes. I also only used one onion. And I added some cumin and spicy red pepper flakes and sour cream. Oh yeah, and I also threw in some ground beef. Medium lean.

It was pretty delicious, but maybe a little too sweet? I'm also not sure if I'd put in all of that cinnamon again. But delicious. I even tried her suggestion of making some cornbread (from Matt's leftover Trader Joe mix) and that was delicious too. Delicious. Delicious.

In one of these pictures you can see how my burner has a hat.

On Sonneteers

YO SHAKESPEARE SHOULDA WRITTN SOME SONNETZ BOUT SHORTYS, 40'S N BLUNTZ.

Montreal Brick Glass

In response to my roomie of the heart Lee Fiorio's blog, Chicago Brick Glass, I am posting this picture. Since Lee started his blog, I have started to notice brick glass around Montreal. I hope that it isn't more prevalent across the rest of North America or, god forbid, the world.

I think that this is the Chinese Presbyterian Church on St. Viateur and Hutchinson - right on the Outremont side of the Plateau border.

The New Trend in Temperatures

Yesterday was the first time this season where temperatures during the day were consistently below zero, as opposed to just happening at night.

Lord save us.

Duck You Sucker Clip

Oh man, related to the ears of christ posting, this movie looks awesome:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49z2lDvelQQ&NR=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KVS6NQr0YP8&NR=1

I wish I knew how to embed.

This reasoning given is thusly: "Irish terrorist James Coburn confuses the hell out of Rod Steiger and the audience for a second time with his insane catchphrase.

Apparently Sergio Leone was utterly convinced that "Duck, you sucker" was a ubiquitous American saying and insisted on its prominent inclusion in this film (Fistful Of Dynamite/Duck, You Sucker) to help it at the US box office. No amount of people telling him that nobody in America actually knew what the hell he was going on about could change his mind. This is the glorious result."

J-STOR

I've had the urge to stock up on any JSTOR article that I might possibly be interested in for when I'm a graduate, but I can't decide whether or not they'll actually come in handy. Geez.

The Last 2 Weeks

I just got Google Wave and it's kind of exciting. If you want to add me, do kylevalade@googlewave.com. And, some fool gave me an invite after I had already been invited, so I have an extra, as well as a couple on the side if anyone wants one.

I added the Lonely Planet Trip Planner app and it's a lot of fun. Megan and I are planning a huge road trip on it that's even more epic than the one that failed this summer. We're sitting right next to each other, though, so it's more for fun. I'm going to see if I can find any other cool "apps".

Looking forward to writing this take-home test for Ulysses and then graduating. Actually, I don't even officially graduate until May, so I don't think that I'll be able to get a real job ever.

And thanks to Lee's Blog I've been noticing Chicago Brick Glass all around Montreal.

Oh yeah, and Pushap was delicious. It's the Indian place right near the Namur Metro. Dirk hated it, though.

Hooray!!

Dirk and I have just been taking it easy today - staying in out of the chilly rain, listening to some jams, sleepin'. At about 10pm we both decided that it might be nice to make some dinner. Together. As a family for the first time in almost a year. Nothing mundane would do, as pasta and stir fry have been boring for months, and leftover lentil soup does not sound yummy.

"What should we do on this icky day?" We both asked ourselves.

"Well, I just got paid yesterday", Dirk offered.

"Hmm. Wait, didn't you spend that all on--"

"--No, no, I didn't go THAT crazy last night", Dirk chuckled softly to himself.

"Sure, if you say so, Dirk." I eyed him uncomfortably for a second before returning to thoughts of food.

"Veau a la broche avec ail, oignon, fromage brie, et un sauce du vin rouge?" Dirk ventured.

Hmm...sounds good. "Wait, whats 'veau' again?" I asked.

"Veal."

"Oh. Yuck. Let's think of something else."

We both sat there staring at the pantry or else into space.

Suddenly, I had the perfect idea! "Hey! How about hamburgers?"

Dirk looked at me with disgust and a certain amount of disappointment. "I can't believe I live with someone that entertain that notion for even a second."

"Oh, Dirk. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I just thought..."

Dirk sensed tears coming on and was quick to comfort me. "No, no, Kyle. Don't you worry about it. I just get carried away sometimes. We can do hamburgers if you want, but would you consider making something like..." Dirk fished around in the air for a second, looking for an idea. "Like, um, for instance, chicken pot pie?"

I love chicken pot pie!

"Yeah!! Chicken Pot Pie!" I jumped up in the air with excitement.

"Well then, we better get started," so Dirk and I took off for the grocery store, and before long we had a piping hot chicken pot pie ready for us, perfectly golden-brown and flaky and delicious looking.

THE END

The Transcendental Turn

I'm at Arts Cafe reading my Kant and writing a precis on the Transcendental Analytic. It is slow and arduous, made moreso because of the way the light bulb hangs naked in front of the window that I'm facing. Seen from the corner of my eyes, I keep thinking that there is a poster of a smiling Dale Earnhardt Jr. looming constantly over me. It's pretty disconcerting, and it forces me to look up in the middle of paragraphs.

Remember Remember.

The Birth

Oh yeah, and our landlady had a baby in the apartment just above where Matt, Owen, and I were watching X-Files. It's a boy!

The Proposal

So I was hanging out yesterday and something came up where somebody was making fun of me and told me to "go blog about it". Well, I think that's a great idea. And I will. As soon as I remember what it is. I think it was something funny.

Remember Remember

I was thinking about myself just now and came up with this little ditty in anticipation of November fifth and in celebration of the day of my birth:

Remember remember the seventh of September,

The day Kyle Valade was begot.

I know of no reason

That day of the squeezin'

Shouldn't be cared for by a lot.

The Upstairs Neighbours

The people upstairs, whom I have never met, seem to be playing indoor soccer.

The Tidy

As of now, I am licking my paws and thinking of my former lover. Ah! But if I only had my testicles!

The Fucks

The fucks that forgot to put knobs in our doors came back again while I was sleeping.
They always come before eleven to make a ruckus in my kitchen.
One time it pushed Matt into my bed.

The Metamorphosis

I am now freed of all constraints binding me to my sub-basement with all of its red lights and Basils. It all happened thusly:
I was sitting on the window ledge, peering outside at a car tire through the screen. Noting that this feeble looking object was the only barrier to my proper state of nature, a plan began to formulate inside my cute little head. I quickly surveyed my surroundings - Kyle was standing around the room looking blank at the time - he didn't pose any sort of threat - so I nonchcalantly started batting at the screen in an attempt to loosen it enough to slink myself out. It didn't work very well, not having opposable thumbs unlike my comrade, Thumbs (may he live a long and happy life), and I was forced to take a step back and analyze the situation from a fresh perspective.

While thinking hard about what my next steps would be, I observed that some bugs were flying inside, attracted by the absurd and track-lighting, through a rather large hole in the screen. I thought to myself, "Why, look at that Dirk! If those bugs can get in and out through a hole in the screen, there's no reason that you shouldn't be able to." I admit that the logic wasn't entirely sound, but it led to my freedom nonetheless. The hole was a little bit too small for me to fit through (after all, I am no Slinky), and I didn't want to resort to damaging anybody's property lest a hefty fine should make its way into my lap.

I left the ledge immediately - confused and conflicted. That night I had terrible nightmares. I was outside, but didn't know where I was. I was lost and terrified of everything that moved. A spotlight comes on - seemingly looking for something - and I realized that the spotlight must be looking for me. I tried to run into a corner, but the corners shrunk away at my approach and the spotlight trailed just behind me. Finally, I began to tire and was forced to slow down and let the spotlight find me. It did, and with it came a police officer handing me a ticket. "Dirk, this is for you." I opened it. Kitty-hands shaking. "Three million dollars for a screen!!? I don't have three million dollars!" "That's too bad, Dirk. Maybe next time you won't break that screen." I woke up in a cold sweat.

I was scared, but still wanted to go outside. The next day I read some John Locke to see what he'd say about my situation. As I read, I began to feel a sense of outrage, of injustice. Am I not allowed even the smallest liberty? I must revolt. And with that, I strode confidently to the window, gently peeled the screen back and scuttled outside. The moment has since become one of my proudest. I have absolutely no regrets about it. If, as in Nietzsche, I were forced to live my life over and over again, I would be honoured to commit that particular offence for eternity.

My little heart is brimming with joy. Mine cup hast filleth. Justice is not a myth, for she exists.

At a Cafe in Burlington

So I'm sitting here, in Burlington, looking up how to do calculus on the internet because I don't have my roomies here to help me. There's actually a great wiki textbook on calculus (or it's great so far in its description of functions). So there I am - on the internet in Muddy Waters - concentrating hard - and this dude starts talking about his career as a camp counselor or something mundane like that. And he's talking for like 30 minutes and I'm thinking "OK, this is like an interview or something", but he doesn't stop, and then the girl that he's talking to tries to say something or relate to him in some way and he responds "No, it's not really like that" before going on for another 15 minutes, so I figured that it probably isn't an interview. Then I leave to go to Burlington Records...to pick up some records.

I came back 45 minutes later and he was doing the same thing to the same poor girl. It may have gone on all night. I'm not sure, I left a little bit later.

Fast forward to today. This middle-aged guy is monologuing to this girl about how he used to play minor roles in Shakespeare plays at UVM when he was 14 or something. This also went on for at least 30 minutes during which his poor girl said not much, either. Turns out that this was an interview, though. But at the same time, he was the interviewer.

So, if you want the opportunity to speech about yourself to poor girls in Burlington, then I highly suggest Muddy Waters on Main. They have great coffee and play nothing but The Beatles and Pink Floyd like the rest of UVM.

But seriously, I really do like the cafe.

Miss you Dirk!!

Stickyfingers

yo my fingers are sticky and it's unpleasant.

A Little Brekkie

This morning, well it was actually about 1pm, I was dreaming about waking up with lice and bed-bugs all over me. I think I was influenced by Lee's dream because I began to call our landlord all angry-like. Anyways I woke up and my head itched but it was only because I haven't showered in a couple of days and I'm hot and sweaty.

Actually what I woke up to, and it was beautiful, was Lee telling me that we're all going to get breakfast - as a family - at Le Vieux - and then Matt came in and we talked about Dirk and Basil and their troubled and complex relationship.

Mattson is leaving soon. But don't worry Mattson, I'll always think of you as my roomie, even if you're a million miles away on a spaceship heading to Mars. Or into the sun. But not before I steal your music and a couple of your movies.

There's a hole

Had a dream last night our apartment sprung yet another leak, this time in the ceiling above Mattson's bed. It was thunderstorming and several friends were over at our place drinking beer in the kitchen when it started. We push the mattress against the wall and put a bucket down on the floor, but it's coming through hard. Everyone is hush as I make the call to Parzad Feyrow*, our landlord.

Ringing. Ringing. No answer. That bastard. I decide to leave a message. I'm gonna go for it. I'm gonna do it all nasty like. I'm not going to hold back any of this latent anger. I'm gonna make it manifest in the worst message conceivable:

"Hi. This is Lee from 9073 Pioneer.* We've got another leak. It's in a different spot now. It's in the front room.

"Parzad, I'm so FUCKING sick. So fucking sick of living in this SHIT HOLE. Now you better get your miserly FUCKING ASS the FUCK over here right now and -"

But for some reason everyone listening has started laughing. And laughing loud enough that I know it's being picked up by the phone and being recorded in the message. I stop my rant and chuckle a little too. I hit the seven on the phone to erase the message and start over, but it's doesn't work. The voice mail box lady never speaks and the message has gone through, incomplete and with laughter.

We all keep laughing and go back to drinking beer.


*Some names and places have been changed to protect those parties involved

Warning Signs

Dirk is back for the night quite against his will. He has been hollering at me to let him go outside since we let him in, despite Basil not being around. In an attempt to placate him, I took out the bowl of cat-nip that Matt Murphy kindly left around for us. The last time I had seen Dirk with some of the sauce, he had no idea how to handle it. Should he sniff at it and sneeze? Should he paw? Does it do anything if he fixes his eyes upon it? Well, this time Dirk was hitting the nip hard. And when he had gotten enough, he got mean. Real mean. And then he had more. He was licking it straight from the bowl and he didn't stop.
Good God how he didn't stop.

On Basil

Fuck Basil. Fuck 'im. I can't stand the bitch, I'll take him any day. Watch me. Hey, Basil, I don't see you on this roomie blog, you pansy.

RADIO SHOW

Ole Lee and I just subbed for Rock and Roll Radio on CKUT. Well, I'm not sure if it's actually subbing because Lee's been doing it for the past month or so and the original guy made sure to disown us on the facebook group for the show, but...you can check it out either from 1-2am EST on CKUT 90.3FM or via internet stream, or you can download the show (both found here - right click on 'save link as'). Plays include Alex Chilton, The Melvins, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Dr. Feelgood, Sacramento, Catl, and more fly-ass shit, some Can-Con both good and bad. If Lee just happens to sounds condescending, we decided that, rather than having it happen spontaneously, it would happen somewhat by design. Oh yeah, and Dr. Feelgood playing mono and skipping was totally by design too.

Oh yeah, and if I were roommates with myself, this would be a great roomie blog. It looks like I'm alone again, naturally.

Dirk!

Dirk was hanging around the porch all day, but has just recently left.

Poker Night

Last night was our roomie poker night so we invited friends Adele and ZackAttack (ZachAttack?) over to join us in the place of Matta-tat-tata-tum-ta-tum-tatata-ta, who couldn't be with us this evening. The buy-in was one twonie and after several hours of tense, unforgettable, strenuous, death-defying, immortal, really very crazy poker hands, I, Kyle C. Valade the First, hath emerged in victory and won a total of 5 twonies. Now I'm not even sure that we need to monetize this blog. I've got all the income I need right here with my roomies.

Bitter Irony

I find it ironic to note that my so-called "roomies4lyfe" have abandoned me within hours of creating this blog. Now I'm in my room with the doors closed listening to drone with no kitties anywhere.

Thanks a lot.

Also, we should monetize this blog and watch the cash come rolling in.