I have been trying to get over one week of Swine Flu, and another week of general malaise.

This is why the show is being held up.
We're pumped to get another one up and running, so it won't be long now, but it's ALL TOM'S (me) FAULT.


Shane has more Purna updates...and we've had some great suggestions for SOUNDY MOUTHS!

It's going to be real soon. Promise.

As you may already know, I (Tom) own a music venue in Windsor, Ontario.
It is special. And not in THAT way.

There's this vote happening on CBC Radio 3 with regards to my music venue, Phog Lounge.

Searchlight has a contest right now which will decide (by votes alone) the Best Live Music Venue in Canada.

I think Phog Lounge is that place for a litany of reasons.
However, as listeners in many countries, and from all over the place, this isn't necessarily pressing for you to do...to go to cbcradio3.com (http://radio3.cbc.ca/polls/?pollId=31) and vote on a daily basis...BUT...
It would help to forward this cause, this effort to be voted Best Live Music Venue in Canada.

If you would be so kind as to help me out with this project, I would be forever grateful.
Again, the link is - http://radio3.cbc.ca/polls/?pollId=31 - and you are able to vote every 24 hours.

We are a 60-capacity venue, going up against places in TORONTO that hold just short of 1000 people per show. These places are impersonal, yes, but they have followers nonetheless. I need your votes desperately from now until February 24th, every day. Is that asking too much?
The most dedicated fan base will win, plain and simple.

So, please help.
I love you.

Having returned from Kingston, the podcaster conference called PAB (Podcasters Across Borders), I have only great things to say, which I will do in future posts.

I want to share the relative success with a t-shirt idea Shane and I came up with.

I wanted to make a huge sentence with mentions of all the social media applications in it, (I Digg when Twits Pownce on del.icio.us ideas...), and then print it on the front of a t-shirt. I figured it would draw praise and giddiness from podcasters and social/new media nuts.

But Shane honed the idea into a giant "Hello My Name Is..." name tag with all of the fields being the social media applications, and then blank spaces left to be filled in with a fabric marker or a Sharpie. I loved the idea, and in a day Shane had a finished design. I burned the image of the design on the screen at Phog, and brought it to Kingston. Shane brought shirts, and we slowly took orders, and then made them to order in our hotel room during the dinner break on Saturday night.

And now I think we'll have our hands full printing more, as were are more than willing and able to do so.

The best part of the "fill in the blank" t-shirt with social media info is that if you go to conferences (and you need to wear those lanyards with your name and information on it, which never sit right) you can simply tell someone to take a photo of your shirt and they instantly have LOADS of contact info that people today are coming to collect. This shirt should be a staple for conferences. Heh-heh...

I made a joke during the last show about two sets of pubic hair meeting up and making a Velcro peeling sound.
Well, I saw this microscopic view of Velcro and felt like I HAD to share.
Nice.

My recorder has, for some reason, refused to connect to my computer. What this means is that I cannot simply drag the MP3 files onto the Net.
I must now dub them, real time, until I am able to then re-format the device.
So, please be patient, and we have a show, "in the can", but are unable to loose it on all of you.
Sorry.
Be patient.
Tom

I think Shane may wet himself, and I hope he does it while wearing jogging pants!
He will not believe that I finally mentioned Squeezebox while I scored some time on the "air".

That's me with my CBC Radio 3 swag!
I was honoured to have the opportunity to co-host the Craig Norris Hour on Thursday's show. Dan Misener (Jim Dupree: Enthusiast) was kind enough to drag me around his workplace, and give me a day I'll never forget.

Radio 3 has done more for Canadian indie music than the rest of Canadian music stations, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, really, they legitimized a huge portion of talent by existing with strong people at the helm.

So yeah, that might mean we'll get more listeners to the podcast. And if you're one of the people who decided to check out our show because Craig was kind enough to mention it...welcome.

Oh, and uh, hold on to your hats, because this show's content is far more rocky than most.

Remember my comment a couple of shows ago about ICQ?...I think I said "I Sikh You" and we had a good laugh.
Well, I saw this the next day and cracked up.

ICQ Toothpaste. Delicious, clean-mouthed chatting.

I forgot to post it until now, as I clean off my desktop of recent screen-captures.

Holy Fuck.
No, I'm not mad or yelling...that's the name of the headlining band that played Friday night at my much-loved baby, the second annual P.A. Music Festival. www.pafestival.com

As you should know, I own a bar: Phog Lounge.
I book an annual music festival with The Avalon Front, another music venue in Windsor. We show solidarity to music and the customers, by joining forces to have an ass-kicking two days of music from around the country. Simply the best of the best.

That's wy I was unable to do a podcast this week.
I am barely recovering, mentally, and now I am preparing to host the most incredible month of music I've ever booked. www.thephogblog.blogspot.com for details...if you don't believe me.

Now that the madness of hosting 10 remarkable bands in two nights is done, I am ready for Shane's bullshit once again.

Get ready, 'cause it's time to laugh again!

There's nothing I'd rather have hanging from my rear-view mirror than a giant plastic shithawk with a wingspan of nearly two feet...how about you?

This was sent in by Angie, a good friend of Shane's, and it is proof that if you pay attention, you will see the most garish things hanging in people's cars.

Shane had this to say about it, "It looks like a really bad B-movie prop, you know the birds on a stick? Maybe he's a washed up B-movie prop guy. I think there is a more professional name like a "Gaffer" or something, but in this instance I'd say a Squawker."

I'm posting this, because I know as soon as Shane sees it, he will laugh out loud.
The only thing is that I cannot remember the context of this.
I don't remember why it's so funny.
This is a self-portrait taken during the last recording at Shane's old workplace...and it was in relation to a story I was telling...but I can't remember...
Shane - It's your chance to fill in the blanks in the comment section.

Shane here
LOLE!, this was your impersonation of the dog hard rubbing his nose on the homeless guys crotch and this was when the dog was gumming his jogging pant pole.

I saw this abomination leaving work the other day.
The family thought it would be cute to post a photo of this poor bastard in fake Oakleys on the bumper of his car...on his 50th birthday no less!

Let's get something straight. On my birthday, I'm the goddamn man of the hour. Screw that, I am the Man of the Year on that day. Christ, the man made it to 50 years old! Do you know how hard that is to do these days? In Windsor, Ontario?! Our air is like baby powder, filled with grit and dust, except it comes from broken down shit-bucket cars that lunch-bucket brains can't let go of...so the powder is more like brake powder.

So, back to this poor-man's Tom Selleck...
He's got the gold chain on, he's obviously tanning on a boat at Put-In-Bay for the long weekend. His moustachio is turning a little blonde, and his JOakleys are hiding his bloodshot, Coors-Light-Lakeport-Honey-Brown-and-Lucky-Lager-indicating-eyeballs. Let's get a shot of this, and save it for his benchmark life achievement. We'll put it in the local paper so all the guys on The Force can laugh and point guns at him for being so lame, and then we'll attach it to his bumper so EVERY a-hole in the city that sees him driving will know that he's a Coors-Light-Lakeport-Honey-Brown-and-Lucky-
Lager-swilling-over-the-hill-pretty-boy.

And when he gets home, we'll hang him by his nuts and beat him like a pinata until he begs for death. It'll be the best birthday EVER!!
Yaaaaaaay!

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of the prank. Most people see this as fun, but I see this as disrespectful. I would retaliate with all the fury of a million maniacs and dig out my kids pictures from when their busted faces were still forming in their skulls during puberty and post them all over their high school hallways.

"Honk if you think I'm sexy, It's my birthday, 50," is supposed to be funny.

This dude's family thinks it's funny to have people looking at him like he's bad weather.

Nice family dude.

Hope you live another 75 so they can photocopy images of you having your retirement-home-diapers being changed so they can dump them on the unsuspecting citizenry of Windsor from a blimp with the scrolling message, "Honk if you'd like to wipe this guy's lily-white ass! He's 125!"

My allergies have been so bad lately (now) that I am seeing through my third eye...like this heartwarming image above.

There's nothing like the desecrated corpse of a cat by some Dungeons & Dragons fanatic to tug at the heartstrings.

Ultimately, I'm posting this image to get a rise out of Shane.

The D&D fanboy who lovingly carved out his dead-cat's eyes and then sewed the eyeholes closed probably was sending a message to all the Shanes out there. He then glued a taxidermist-kit-eyeball to Fluffy�s forehead. Cute.

A customer of mine, at work, had his legs carved up, as if he was on an Amazon expedition wearing only pantyhose.
"What the hell happened to your legs Glen?"
He chuckled, "My kitten."

WHAT!?
Were you in an OxyContin-coma when your kitten used your legs for a scratch-post?!
This is what kills me about cats! They can maul your legs or hands or arms, leaving you a tangled mess of scar tissue, and you cat lovers chuckle.
Why do axe murderers get such a bad rap? If you survive, you've basically had a run-in with a less-lovable cat.

If an animal in the park scratched up my legs like this, it would likely be a foaming-at-the-mouth raccoon fighting to apex Mount Tom because I was holding its babies over the tar-breath-mouth of my blind dog.

But when a kitten is allowed to do this to someone (its owner/master) I realize that all cat owners have been duped.

I can see it now, in the days ahead when I want a pet who craps in the same place every time. I'll get a cat. I'll succumb. And the moment I do, I'll wake up without a nose. Just a gristly cartilage stump. And I'll giggle uncontrollably as Mr. Peepers ravages my mangled beak.

At that moment, I will come to the computer, try to control my laughter, halt the flow of blood flowing over the keyboard, and erase this post.

I saw a link online where you could leave a message on a scrolling sign in an office building somewhere in the US (California, I think).

I thought I'd pimp Squeezebox...
But all of the workers were just looking away.
They were completely unimpressed with anything on the sign...even the horrendous racial epithets people were displaying...

I thought they'd appreciate my simple advertisement instead of the repeating message of "Balls, balls, balls..." or "You're ugly!"

But, to no avail.
The message scrolled, stayed for a second, repeated a couple of times, and went away forever.

Podcasts themselves are a lot like that.
Frown.

I am surprised to see that Shane has still not posted any images of the gift I bought him for his birthday.
These magnets of cat butts swelled at me from the shelf in this weird little store in Toronto. I was with Jhoan (wife), Misener, and Jenna, and they all agreed that it pulsated with Shane-ness. It still wasn't gross enough for Misener...but I couldn't see anything dead or turned inside-out...so this was the winner.
The best part is the little cat in the bottom right corner saying, "Guess which one is mine?"
These are the only kind of gifts I know Shane will like. I do not want to buy him a "personal massager" that he burns out by sitting on them for hours on end. I want something that will ignite his imagination. I want something to take him up into the rear-asses of felines.
They were the most expensive magnets I ever bought, but his reaction was worth every penny.
Meeeoow?
Meeeuck!

This is a little photo proof of the single-shoe-theory that Shane and I concocted several episodes ago...
I don't know why this particular black shoe is paired with a crumpled laundry detergent bottle, but I have an idea...
This photo was taken on one of the many roads in Windsor where "Front-Porch-Fridge" people toss their trash in public.
This is a service road that runs parallel to our lone expressway. There is nothing really on this road except deep, wet ditches and shallow, dry personalities.
I found myself to be walking along it while my car was out of commission recently.
Most of the time, you see skater kids, wearing grimy backpacks, collecting stupidity out of the fuel-stained gravel on the sides of the roads.
I would hope that one of them would get ram-rodded by a truck while wandering down this side road, which would explain the shoe...but that's wishful thinking.
I think this shoe is nothing more than another piece of garbage being dumped alongside old newspapers, bottles, cans, and broken basketball rims (yes I saw one). I just don't know why there's only one! Where is the other shoe?
I actually could see a skater kid moving along at a good click, with those overly floppy shoes that are wider across than they are long, simply continuing along after one shoe bites the dust. These kids are usually pretty lazy, unless you are willing to give them something new for free, and I contest that they might actually leave their abused, battered, putrid pedal-foot shoe in a ditch.
"Screw it, I'll get it tomorrow. Hope it doesn't rain."
Idiots. Go pierce your brain.
If you have any theories, send them our way.

As you know, the show has been on hiatus.

Shane has been kind enough to ask for prayers and to post on the site.

Above is a picture of my Dad on Sunday, before his heart bypass surgery where he was impaired more than ever during the surgery.

My Dad has gone from bad to worse, and then miraculously, stable and slowly (VERY) improving.
Doctors do not really know how he has made it from one hospital to the other (Tuesday morning) and now that he has been hooked up to 20 machines, pumping his blood, making his heart beat, breathing for him, keeping him sedated, keeping him pain free, keeping his blood pressure regulated, keeping his oxygen saturation regulated, he has drastically reduced his dependance on all of these aids.

His body was on 4 MAJOR doses of 4 MAJOR drugs. He has been capable of being weened off of all but one of them (blood pressure) and he has almost finished needing that one! He had a pump in an artery near the heart, in correlation with a heart medicine (forcing the muscle to work), which doctors thought was the only way his heart would keep beating. They thought his heart muscle could be dead from the massive heart attack he had on Monday. But, he is now competely free of the pump, and the heart-beat-medicine.

The prayers are working. This is what I'm saying.
I am not one who is into hokey beliefs...but I am spiritual. I have been praying to every god (God) there is, and I know that he's been in the thoughts of many reading this, and it IS WORKING.

There is almost no other explanation. Please keep thinking of him.
Every good intention and every strong prayer is helping him heal.
He has a lot to live for and you are helping him.
Thank you from the bottom of my squeezy heart.
His squeezebox needs more help.
Thanks in advance.

Tom

This is yet another example of the people in charge of companies, falling on their stupid, doughy faces.

Who in the hell do they expect to read this sign, really?

This could say any host of things...like,
"Ole! We Rotted Two Extra Widows!"
"Please Throw Weed To Extreme Minnows"
"Sleaze Pro Fed Bro Extended Swim Cow"

Anyone see anything else?

But seriously, what genius decided to put this sign up thinking that it actually had value? Customers just see a sign and know that the person who gives them the wrong order is obviously at the next window.

This sign could say, "Choke and Die" and no one could read it. They should just have a big, dumb, Looney Toons windshield sun-blocker that people used to use in their 1985 Tempos.
"Hey, was that Taz?"
"Just keep drivin' Beth, I want my fries hot!"

There are several stores that NEVER use that first window. In fact, I have been to several spots that do not use the first "speaker/microphone". They have a sign written on loose-leaf paper or a manila envelope, "Please drive to next speaker". Why do we have these initial fake-outs? Wallpaper the inside of those extra hubs in the "Drive Thru"(Don't get me started on the spelling of ''thru"). It's as if the building was designed for space battle. Like the more bubble domes jutting out from the sides of the buildings can be laser-gun turrets to fight of enemy warships.

Nerds are in charge of fast food restaurants. You'd think nerds could at least get the speaker to sound better.

Yup, he's getting married. I don't know if they are going to release the video for this on the podcast feed...but I'm betting on NO.
This is my public congratulations to Jenna and Jim...er Dan.
Yaaaaaaaaay!!

My Dad is having heart issues.
Not funny.
Not fun.
This is why there was no show this week.
I have been trying to be around him as much as possible.
Laying in 3 different hospitals for 3 weeks, waiting for tests and doctors' opinions to align is not fun either. The problem is that my Dad's hospital is in London, Ontario, which is 2 hours away. So, the show will resume next week, as will my father's normal life after he finally gets some heart surgery done.

To lighten things up a bit, I have supplied this photo.
I knew my Dad would recover when I started seeing humourous things in the hospital. This is but one example.
I direct your attention to the procedure that the hospital calls a "diva".
It's the third one from the top. It apparantly takes 40 minutes to complete.
Is this just the waiting time for a woman who is whipping her hair around and making her entourage go get Twinkies and bottles water for her?
If a diva has major attitude with the receptionist, is she given a penalty (like in football) of 45 minutes (flat rate) until she curbs te attitude?

P.S. What the hell is a "fistulagram"? Sounds like something Shane needs, but wouldn't enjoy...much.

Just curious.
Love You Dad.

Tim Horton's has been the source of some ranting for me, and it continues to engage me in unexpected situations.

During the last visit, on the way to recording Episode 69, I was heading to pick up two coffees for Shane and I. Looking ahead of me, I saw something bright blue on the pavement. I knew immediately it was a five dollar bill.

I drove up, hopped out, grabbed my camera, and shot a photo from ground level. Luckily, I was being shielded by the truck while I took the photo. Truthfully, I did look around to see if someone had been killed in the distance, scattering money into the wind. There's not a whole lot around this coffee shop, so there could have been some nefarious happenings occurring in the field behind the lot.

I started thinking about the last time I found money.
I'm one of those people who walks to the money when I see it, and I step on it immediately. In case someone else sees it, I want to have 170 pounds resting in it when the sucker reaches to pick it up.
It's so lame that I (we) do this, because we know that this money might belong to someone else, and we will be out some free money.
I can't help it. Unless I see an oaf pull out his wallet and mishandle his cash with chubby fingers, watching it fall to the floor, and he doesn't notice, then that cash is mine. I'm not a thief, just a competitive money-grubber.
There's a difference.
Shane's a thief.
I'm only interested in stealing 35 minutes of your life every week.


If only I could find more listeners so easily...

Oh bother...I have no words to describe this...
Tut, tut, it looks like rain.

Poor Shane, and his likeness to an infant "yellow" bear named after "number two".

I think you guys both eat honey by the handful out of a big jug too, right?
This is so funny!

Thanks Kelly!

Okay, so, here are the results of the Rear-View-Mirror Stats I complied over the last two weeks.
Of the total 173 things I observed, this is how they stacked up:
Tree air freshener (A.F.) - 29
Maple leaf air freshener (A.F.) - 24
Necklaces/Beads - 18
Religious Trinkets - 17
Dream Catchers - 16
Fuzzy dice - 10
Hawaiian Lei - 8
Soccer ball in net - 8
Baby shoes - 4
Stuffed animal - 4
Flag - 4
Animal tail (only) - 3
Solo Items:
Another mirror
Yankee Candle A.F.
Mini cowboy hat
Cartoon A.F.
Sunglasses
Hula girl A.F.
Double 8-Ball
Marilyn Monroe A.F.
Paper Star
Big bag of potpourri
Stuffed Santa
Scarf (kerchief)
Toronto Maple Leafs A.F.
7 Dwarves head (Sleepy)
Glass dolphin
Angel X-Mas ornament
Plush Tigger
Grad tassel
Small metal rooster
Plush flower
Taz A.F.
Disco ball
Paper bird
Handcuffs
Ski Goggles
Mini football helmets
A CD

Do you see anything resembling toastiness?
I sure don't.
I ate this thing willingly, knowing I would be chomping into a soft buttery goo-ball that was far more solid and viscous than I wanted it to be.
If the damn bagel can’t even get hot enough to melt butter, how crappy is your toaster?
What setting do you have it at? Tepid? The dough is barely warm. I almost bring myself to breathe hard on the thing just to heat the butter up a bit.

At least there wasn’t a butter-skin covering the hole that I had to skim off before I ate it.

I will try my best not to complain about Tim Horton’s anymore, but look at this lactic disaster. I told you we weren’t exaggerating.

If you look closely, you can see the wonderful dream-catcher hanging from the rear-view mirror. This was one of three cars I saw on that short drive, to the podcast recording, and I happened to have my camera ready. Enough already! I think natives should be able to claim your car on the spot, seize you from within it, leave you on the side of the road, and drive away, wearing huge head-dresses and shooting arrows at random cars on the way out.
How bizarre is it that we (in general) avoid any contact with our native people and their concerns, but we cannot escape the idea of having a ripped-off native symbol (tennis-racket-string, organized to look like a dyslexic spider web, with ANGELS dancing among the beads strung among the dyed-purple feathers) in our vehicles?

We must have this in the car, where we... dream? What? Dreaming in the car? Oh, wait, yeah, that's, ummm, STUPID! Nothing beats the idea of stealing a symbol from natives and adorning it with another spiritual-belief's symbolism (yeah, the angels)...that's just an extra rib-shot.
That said, I have begin an informal data-collection project based on the things that hang from rear-view mirrors.
So far, I have a very concrete list, that rarely varies, which seems to house every possible thing hanging from these mirrors.
I will report on some of these items here, in the next little while.
Look for updates.
As for now, I want to discuss one of the stranger things I see...
Hawaiian Lei Necklaces (apparently people win these at hot-body contests or a lame luau parties or from prom parties). I just don't get why so many people have plastic flower necklaces hanging from their mirror. Most of the time, they are hanging in cars of dudes. Dudes who wear mirrored (fluorescent) sunglasses, with gel-laden hair and personalized plates like, "HETERO". So, I'm thinking, if I tried to pull this off, I'd have the gay finger pointing my way all the time...like that commercial for Arby's when the logo for the meat-sheet-burger-joint hovers over the people thinking about Arby's...my car would have that purple Teletubby constantly hovering over my car...but it's okay for big raging jocks to hang luscious lei from their mirror. I don't get it. Maybe I'm jealous.

This is me in my Hobo-Neck-Scarf...so aptly named by Shane.
He's jealous of the fashion craze I've begun.
I am encouraging hipsters to grow beards, their hair, and wear a broken down toque as a neck warmer/scarf. In fact, there are already a few copycats at Phog Lounge in Windsor.

Shane has been nice enough to even tell me that my hair, on the sides, looks like pubic hair. What are friends for? That might be the worst thing anyone has ever said about my appearance, and it came from my best pal.
Love you too...a-hole.

It started on Spadina Street in Toronto with my wife. We went into a store and bought two toques for two bucks. Upon walking out the door, I dug into the bag and pulled out a new version of the toque. It had NO pom-poms on it, and it had come completely unravelled on the top, where it should be sewn shut with pom-poms.

I was incensed! I spent a dollar! What is the value of a dollar anymore! My wife, Jhoan rolls her eyes looking at me. "Bring it back then, don't complain," she said...or something like that. This coming from the person who has since learned NEVER to buy "gadgets" from dollar stores, after  we bought a can opener that couldn't have helped open a can if they were tied together and shot out of a canon against an iron wall.

Dollar stuff, for the most part is total trash.
This toque-turned-neck-scarf is how you pull the old switcheroo on the bastards taking advantage of our thrifty, cheap asses.

At that moment, in the summer, in Toronto, I told Jhoan, "This is going to be a neck warmer," which she started to laugh at, "and I'm not kidding! This thing is going to be the BEST neck warmer ever! Just to spite this store!"

And, voila! It has been so faithful and ugly at the same time, that I am getting people to follow in my footsteps. "I feel weird without it on now," said one follower, "because it's like being hugged the whole time it's on, and when it's off, you're cold."

That's right. Gaze upon my mangled woolen nightmare. I love it.
We might even start selling them...