One time, a decade and a half ago, I pressed pause on the video player so I could trace the face of a GI Joe off the screen with grease proof paper and a pencil. I held the paper up against the static and followed the curves with a blunt HB. When I removed the paper a linear ghost of the army man remained on the screen. He didn't go anywhere when the scenes progressed, he just remained there, stubbornly. He interrupted City's of Gold and annoyed DJ from Degrassi Junior High. He was always like 'lets smash these cobra heads!' and the Degrassi students were like ' I think I have AIDS/I'm pregnant/ I did a trip with rat poison and jumped off a bridge and now have brain damage and an aggression problem you BITCH!' But the old Private didn't listen. He just looked on with his American jaw line and army man beret. The TV was old and small and eventually he faded from the glass. I like to think he's up in heaven smashing Cobraheads and teaching Canadian middle schoolers about smashing Cobraheads. Maybe in heaven, they will listen. Just like that song about Vincent Van Gogh.
The top shelf of the fridge has a million bottles and jars of condiments that have only been half consumed. Interesting, I hear you say. Really interesting. I'm sure you have the same problem. Would this make a good comedy routine? Have I found that situation that everybody has experienced and then can I point it out so everybody will say 'Ha! It's so true, that;s what happened to me! I'm not alone, this comedian, this one right here, he is my man. He sees the truth and then says it and we all laff and no one gets hurt. Clean humour. None of that FUCKDAMMITHERBITCHIN this and that. This is clever comedy. Clever, clever, clever."
What about this one. 'Have you ever stolen a brick from the nextdoor neighbour's shed and gone home to the safety of your own back yard to cover it in vaseline and give it the mother of all tongue lickings only to find that in your eagerness you've forgotten to duct tape the eyes of your dog? ' . 'That's so embarrassing' they will laugh and will hover to old thoughts of when they were caught by their mother soaping eggs in the birdbath without the aid of a dog's milk moistened towelette.
Best album of the year? I think so.
Better than Propagandhi even. There I said it.