The Crooked Cue

Today, I went with Hobo and Girlfriend to a new bar.

Hobo is so named because he once spent a week on my couch, and Girlfriend is called girlfriend because she is my girlfriend. It's pretty simple.

Anyways, we went to The Crooked Cue, which is in Port Credit, near the waters of Lake Ontario. Despite the stench of the dead-cat-polluted water, the bar itself is actually in a really nice location. I could almost say it's the city's 'club scene', but I won't because that would be an embarrassment.

The Cue is nice in the sense that it has over 20 billiard tables. That's the game known as pool, or snooker, or a variety of other stupid-sounding names, wherein you poke a ball at other balls with a long stick. This is starting to sound like a gay porn.

We didn't end up playing pool, but we did try a variety of drinks. I had a 'James Bond'. It's what James Bond drinks in the James Bond movies.

Hobo had a beer brewed in a local microbrewery. I tried some and it was surprisingly good for a beer I suspect has large amounts of water from the nearby lake.

[Local residents.]

FanExpo 2010

Today, I took Girlfriend to FanExpo.

For those of you who are cool and have a life (like Girlfriend), FanExpo is basically an annual event where geeks get together in ridiculous costumes and squeal over comic books, anime, scifi, and whatever. I am one of them.

There are typically very famous celebrities in attendance. This year, we had the original Batman and Robin, Adam West and Burt Ward.

We also had Summer Glau, the new Terminator, and also an actress in Dollhouse. And Firefly (I didn't want to bring up the F-word).

I also caught a glimpse of Stan Lee, creator of Marvel Comics (Spiderman, Iron Man, etc.). Excelsior!

I ended up buying silly things like a zombie hunting license. Girlfriend looked exasperated but I know that means she's secretly impressed.

Waitress Pickups

Today, I managed to semi-successfully hit on a waitress. If by accident.

I was at Jack Astor's with a few friends from high school. I arrived late, and in the middle of a warzone. One of my friends had already gotten the waitress' name wrong, and the others were busy drawing pictures of her various tattoos on the paper tablecloth.

What happened next was completely by accident. Which obviously shows that I can pick up girls without even trying.

Anyways, I felt bad for the girl - she was cute, after all - so I wrote an apology on the tablecloth, and when she walked by, I directed her attention to it. She smiled, gave me a playful shove, and said, "You're cute!" before walking away.

Everyone else at the table stared, before calling me a traitor. I have never been more proud to be an asshole.

Violet Hill

Today I learned how to play Violet Hill on my guitar.

That's about it. It's a pretty slow day.

Weed Whacker

Today, a friend and I spent two hours hacking down weeds in our backyard.

During the summer, our backyard went from a perfectly normal patio to a hideous tangle of vines resembling the darkest parts of the Amazon rainforest. I've never been to the Amazon, but I've watched The Jungle Book, and Disney is a credible source of information.

[Mustache of Authori-tay!]

Anyways, I used a machete. My housemate used a shovel. Together, we made like Wesley Snipes in Blade and carved a vicious path through the weeds. The plants will sing of the genocide we lay upon them for generations. Or they would, if any still lived.

Insane

Today I beat an insane computer in Starcraft.

Considering that the computer-controlled players in this game are at par with some of the best human players, I'm pretty proud of myself. I'm less proud because I exploited a cheap glitch in their programming. But I'm more proud because I'm a mechatronics engineer and exploiting robots is WHAT I DO.

[Especially insane robots who look like governors.]

P.S. If the robot revolution has occurred and this blog post is brought up at my meatbag trial: The following line is true. The previous line is false. Humanity, I'd like my statue to be made out of squirrel babies. Thanks.

Sleepover

Today I ended up at the WestEnd. It's the local bar. I don't know exactly how I ended up there, since I woke up about 50km away in another city. But that's beside the point.

Sunday nights is typically open mike night at the WestEnd. There's always one married couple that play together. They have 'residency' which is a fancy way of saying they own the place. Not literally, but through their heartfelt music and soulful lyrics and the heart-trembling strum of their guitars.

Did someone put Rohypnol in my drink?

Anyways, the new thing of the night was going back to my pad and lending two girls the use of my PJs so they could sleepover. Insert obvious joke about having two girls in my pants.

They slept on the couch, but my girlfriend was in my bed, so I wasn't too fussed.