Flashcube.org

As anyone who has shopped with me for underwear knows that my needs are pretty simple. I like briefs and I like boxer-briefs. No boxers for me because they tend to ride my ass like a Kentucky Derby jockey. Doesn’t help that I wear pants that fit. Other than that I haven’t really given much thought. But it would be a fallacy to assume that I am like other people. Some folks tend to take their undergarments much more seriously. So while I can understand the why, I don’t necessarily subscribe to the same values. So where do Manties fit in? I don’t really know. Perhaps it caters to the cross-dressing crowd or perhaps to those who like the feel of silk and lace. I’m at a loss. Maybe it’s the ruffles.

I’m going to Vegas! A good friend and I paid for the travel package this afternoon and will going in January. All of this, while loosely discussed, was pretty much formalized while drinking whiskey sours at the Hotel Vancouver lounge last evening. Interestingly, the first person to know about this trip was The Neighbour as he phoned me on my cell while I was at the travel agent. We’ll be staying at the Imperial Palace Hotel for four days. There’s enough to do in the Imperial Palace alone that there’s almost no reason to leave. It even has an onsite wedding chapel as well as a Luau. I hope to be married during my four-day stay. I’m serious. At the last wedding I was at I caught the garter (actually it was a chocolate bar) fair and square so I’m next in line. I’m really only looking for two qualities in the future Mrs. Flashcube - Willing and Able. If you fit these two criteria I’ll forward on my travel plans so we can have a romantic rendezvous in Vegas. Here’s some more pictures taken shortly after The Good Friend and I bought the tickets.

Wow. Further proof that Japanese media is leaps and bounds ahead of Western media. This movie (Quicktime required) makes my brain hurt. Despite my Japanese lessons, I think I only caught one or two words of the song. Is there a Japanese phase for “what the fuck was that?”. I need a shower. Update: I’ve found more commercials! Apparently, they’re a construction company.Weird.

Here are some examples of Christmas cards I’ve made over the past few years. Some people have received them, some have not. I’m cooking up a doozy this year in the hopes that I can alienate what little friends I have left by creeping them the fuck out. If you would like a Christmas card this year, let me know and I’ll send one out. I’m only printing 20 cards. I don’t have that many friends so there will be a surplus. So far only one person and their dog have responded. Click on the cards for a larger image.

When making the decision to purchase my cell phone, one of the things I considered were possible accessories to expand the capabilities of the phone. I considered things like the optional camera attachment, a desk charger, and a case to carry it around easier. Little did I know that someone had invented an accessory that may soon prove to be more popular than any of the others. Particularly amongst females. I’ll try to describe it as tactfully as possible without tainting the man-child guise I’ve inadvertently built around me.

This accessory channels the vibrations from the silent vibrating ring of a cell phone through a long, cylindrical extension covering the case of the phone. The vibrations from the accessory are used to bring about enjoyment to the “special area” of the fairer of the species. See for yourself.

I’ve been pretty busy this evening. I’ve caught up on any projects I have, figured out how to work the damn cell phone, responded to any pending emails that I have, and have been looking into possible Vegas vacation packages for the new year. I’m feeling great. Great enough to get a full body tan? Almost. Great enough to get a full body tan with no tan lines? Absolutely.

Having a fresh set of batteries for my cheap-ass digital camera, I decided to put them to good use by putting together a panoramic shot of my bedroom. Some 50 or 60 shots made up this composite and while some things don’t quite match up I did try my best.

A co-worker and I decided to exchange mix CD’s for each other with the pretense that we would be listening to them not knowing the artists and titles of each song and then comment on what we like and don’t like. He gave me his CD today which I mistakenly left at work and I am working on his this evening. Today’s lackluster weather has afforded me such a luxury despite the fact I somehow dragged my ass out of the house to jog for half an hour. Halfway through of which it began to rain. Good grief! Anyhow, here is the little cover I did up for his CD. Click on it to see a bigger image. Also, to give credit where credit is due, a friend of mine did a similar article on his website a few days ago. For those interested in what’s on this mystery CD, you can click here for a track listing.

Forgoing the Rorschach test, the psychologist decided to look at Eric’s artistic sensibility instead.

Just in case anybody was wondering on the legality of this in Canada.

According to R. Don Steele, being nice doesn’t mean jack shit and the only way to get any tail is to be an belligerent asshole. He has refined his technique and has marketed it under the name Steel Balls. Steel Balls is a surprisingly successful project aimed at middle-aged divorced males who want to tap some 24 year old ass. He tells you how to dress, what kind of haircut to get, and how to act. How successful is the Steel Ball Principle? Here’s some testimonials from the website.

At the end of the trip, we had a formal diner. I came in my dark blue business suit with a solid red tie accompanied by a perfect Windsor knot. Many young, beautiful women came up to me and start touching my suit. Saying things like, “Wow, this is a nice suit . . . it feels so good . . . you look so great”. Keep in mind that in half the cases, their hands were on me when they said these things. One lady even came up to my room to bring me diner and gave me a massage. My roommate told me that day that at least 16 young women came up to ask him how I was doing.

To which I say, “fuck that!”. Maybe I should apply the Steel Balls Principals to my life because it certainly can’t be a change for the worse. I can be an asshole. Hell, if I put my mind to it I could possibly be the biggest fucking asshole this town has seen. All I have to do is to start treating women like meat and be confrontational towards everyone. Yeah, that’s the fucking ticket!

This asshole gets more dates than me.

On a lark, I got a cell phone today. Actually, that’s a bit misleading as it was an idea which I had been thinking about since about early yesterday afternoon and was finalized over breakfast with my neighbour who also coincidentally got a cell phone as well. The conversation went something like this:

Eric: People don’t phone me. Also when they do I am indisposed and miss their calls.
Neighbour: Me too. There must be something that can be done about this situation.
Eric: You’re right. These land lines sure are cramping my style.
Neighbour: But what can we do, Eric?
Eric: Let’s get cell phones. Then we can never miss calls, people will love us, and we will radiate an air on techno-chic.
Neighbour: And we can put stickers on them.

Not only does having a cell phone make Eric look cool but under harsh lighting it makes him looks fucking sexy.

poll

Wired is currently running a story about the strange practice known as iPod Jacking. From what I can discern, iPod jacking is where you plug your headphones into a strangers iPod headphone jack and they reciprocate. It’s kind of an odd phenomenon to say the least. As an iPod owner myself I think I would be taken aback were that to happen to me suddenly. Then again, after the initial shock wore off and I regained my composure, I think it would be interesting to be exposed to a strangers taste in music.

Eric may be alive and well and living in Vancouver but he really needs a fucking drink.

You could call it delusional fandom but that would be giving it too much credit. Someone has taken it upon themselves to draw parallels between the death of Princess Diana and the works of Morrissey with a particular focus on The Queen Is Dead album. After going through that site a little bit I’ll never listen to the album the same way again. Ranks right up there with the Paul is dead conspiracies.

Why does everybody love Tim Barnard? Is it the sheer audacity in which he enters and wins baby name contests with names like, “Roughrider Barnard”? Yes, yes, yes! What a perfect name to bequest on one of the lucky orphans that he has taken under his wing.

Not only is Tim incredibly handsome but he is also serperbly talented having on more than one occasion beaten international chess champion Garry Kasparov at checkers and then using the money from his winnings to start the Tim Barnard Foundation For The Arts.

The Tim Barnard Foundation For The Arts is an organization that helps tetraplegic children learn to paint and sculpt with the power of thought alone. Tim will be curating the exhibition in which these as well as some of his own works will be featured.

Tim can be difficult to track down at the best of times as his commitments often take him abroad. As a consequence, he is very well travelled and can speak over 20 human languages and at least 5 animal ones. However when he does come back home it’s like he’s never left at all because even while he is gone physically his influence is very pervasive. Be it the city hall that he helped design and engineer, the city park named in his honour, or the tee-ball team he sponsors. Everywhere you go, he’s there.

I’m going to hell for posting this link featuring a website that specializes in clothing for adults with Down’s syndrome. Which reminds me, do not go and see the movie Pumpkin starring the lovely Christina Ricci. I had the misfortune of watching it Saturday afternoon while nursing a hangover. Not a good idea. My penance was watching Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion later that day.

Bad for a hangover. Good for a hangover.

A friend of mine sent me an interesting article on auteur Vincent Gallo and the author’s attempt at contacting him and setting up an interview with him. There are few notable moments in the article. For instance the time Vincent heard that a confectionary maker was going to dedicate a chocolate to him.

The woman who ran the shop, Christina Markoff, thought it might be fun to have Vincent involved in the unveiling, and so contacted the great man to see if he would like to come. Gallo responded almost immediately with a raft of demands about how the chocolate should be produced: the consistency and darkness of the cocoa powder; the design and finish of the chocolate itself; and, of course, the issue of copyright. Markoff was so scared of incurring the wrath of Gallo that she shelved her homage in confectionery and went back to making coffee creams.

Despite him being a generally cantankerous son-of-a-bitch, I still want to see, The Brown Bunny when and if it ever makes it to Vancouver.

Chocolate and peanut butter. Gin and tonic. Sonny and Cher. Some things were just meant to go together. However, upon reaching this site I realized that the words “Sexy” and “Michael Jackson” do not. Granted, he was not bad looking in his “Off The Wall” and “Thriller” days. However, he’s been looking pretty rough lately. This site itemizes his sexiness into various categories based on body parts. Such categories include, ears, eyes, and yes, apparently he has a sexy crotch too. The interesting thing is that these photos span most of his solo career up into today. So I guess someone is able to look past his obvious disfigurements and see the beautiful creature inside.

Ma-ma se, ma-ma sa, ma-ma coo sa

WTOP news reports that baby names are moving from the typical to the atypical. Whereas once the little bundles of joy would be named such names as John, Mike, or Kevin. Now names are being influenced by pop culture references.

So now it’s a trip to make-believe land – a land in which I have sired many if any children. All of whom are named after pop culture references specific to my microcosm. Here are a few names that I’ve come up with based on things that influence my everyday life or things that just so happen to be in my immediate line-of-sight at the time of this writing.

• Goldstar
• Sharpie
• Gillette
• Bolskaya
• Casio

With names like these who wouldn’t want to have children. Anyways, I’m holding an informal CONTEST. All you have to do is to come up with a better name for a child than I have. Use my names and the names in the originating article as a starting point. There is NO PRIZE but I will announce the winner in their very own post on this website. Yes, your very own post. On this website. And be crowned as reader of the month or week or whatever. Plus in my posting I will write how you are such a great person for at least a paragraph or two. So there’s no reason that everybody shouldn’t enter. So get cracking. CONTEST ends in one week.

It’s good to see that other people are also using their time productively by cataloguing instances in comic books where characters say, “Unh!”.

I’ve been using the Mach 3 razor for about 5 or 6 years now having only recently upgraded to the Mach 3 Turbo. I like the Mach 3 Turbo for all the reasons that Gillette’s marketing team wants me to. I mean, c’mon the thing has three blades. So when I heard about the Schick Quattro, I could barely contain myself. Four fucking blades! I haven’t bought one yet but I know I will. I really enjoy being marketed to, especially when it comes shaving products - something I take far too seriously. As with any new razor, I expect to give up my first and second born to aquire it. However, seeing as I’d as soon sell them into slavery, it’s an even trade.

That’s right. Four fucking blades.