Thursday, December 13, 2012

Reading Stuff

**Insert vague introduction about the internet and the modern speed of communication**

Online reading material is connected at the hip with blogs, and I sympathize with the people who think of blogging as a soapbox for losers. The needle swings heavily that way if you were to somehow average out all existing online content, and there are only so many posts about summer vacations and cats one can read before they begin to paint it all with one brush.

But I like to read. And I say that with a complete and honest admission that I can't remember the last book I read. I remember, vaguely, the first couple chapters of the last three books I began to read, but stuff like YouTube videos of hockey fights and a shiny blue bouncy ball got in the way of those. I will never utter the horribly overplayed words "I SWEAR I HAVE A.D.D." because, quite frankly, someone with certification has never told me so. But I am most definitely a product of a generation that prefers the episode to the movie, the snippet to the story, and the bite to the meal.

So nestled somewhere within my disdain for the concept of blogs, my love for online reading and my fear of books, is a daily diet of articles from this here internet. Grantland has overtaken the letter 'G' from Google in my computer's search bar recognition, which is no small feat considering how popular the latter is with everyone on earth. The Awl is cool, I love Vice, and Fast Company has drawn me in several times for several hours.

But this isn't about listing off some neat websites I read. The point I'm trying to make is that 99.9% of the online content I read is written from, and about, somewhere else in the world. And in all honesty, the underlying sweetness of traveling the Global Village is being removed from Winnipeg goddamn Manitoba, even if my fingers clacking the keyboard are still here. The internet is the cheapest vacation you can take.

That being said, it's important to save at least a fraction of your peripheral vision for the space immediately surrounding your physical self. Reading local-ish publications is a great way to double check if your country's at war or not, what season it is, or whether or not your family is in the obituaries. Take part in your community a little, or whatever.

Enter The Spectator Tribune. Based out of Winnipeg, serving Western Canada and still wet behind the ears, so far it looks like a promising piece of internet real-estate that seems to "get" it. Bigger picture stuff mixed with local stuff. Funny stuff mixed with meaningful stuff. Basically, just lots of good stuff.

What sites like this offer that established news sources can't are whatever-who-cares humor. Articles written by people in an interesting place in the world and their life. And most definitely, youth. So consider this my endorsement. I like the cut of your jib, Spectator.

But what do I know. I'm just a blogger.


Monday, November 19, 2012


So last night was like, tooooooo crazy. 
I got so drunk I stole the photographer's camera at the club! I just dumped all the pictures on my computer and I'm starting to piece the night together...

These betches were all competing for the limelight! The babe in the middle was all "back up, I wanna get a picture of my arm" and the girl in the yellow was all "back up, I have to fart".

Omg I totally forgot! Lou Ferrigno's brother was there!!! But he was wearing a blonde wig, so that was weird...

I'm actually sooo touched that they still let blind people in the bar. Jamie Foxx must've like broke so many barriers by playing that black guy in the movie about Stevie Wonder.

 How much you wanna bet the guy on the left's name is Tony? He was totally creeping on these girls all night, until he pointed at the camera when I took this picture and the girls were like "omg this guy is such a baller!" and they all went home with him.

 These guys were the nicest Mexican cowboys I've ever met. UNTIL I noticed buddy in the blue was wearing Ralph Lauren, and I thought 'Hm, what kinda cowboy wears Ralph Lauren?' They could tell I was calling their bluff though because they immediately called a cab on lefty's Blackberry.

 These guys were nice. They sold all their WOW Gold just for a night out on the town. You could say the guy on the left was the "brains" of the group because he yakked my ear off about mainframes and terabytes and blah blah blah. You could also say those women were hookers.

 I almost died! I've met a ton of spanish cover bands, but En Synco is easily in my top 5!

 All this guy wanted to talk about was Folgers coffee.

This guy could've had any girl in the club (CLEARLY) cuz they were totally harassing him all night. But just to play coy he chose this male horse jockey instead.

 I had never heard of Siamese twins being attached at the temple before, but these two kept going on and on about the surgery and how they wish they would've chosen getting separated over implants. This economy is just the worst.



Monday, November 12, 2012

A Few Good Tweets

Kyle Kinane Kyle Kinane @kylekinane
I have diarrhea from eating too many gummi worms last night. I am, quite literally, too old for this shit.

Jeffrey Hadz Jeffrey Hadz @Hadzilla
Somewhere out there someone in a wheelchair approaches a staircase wishing his parents never gave him that skateboard for Christmas.

Parky Parky @ImActuallySEAN
I think i'm gunna start dealing drugs. Not enough to make a lot of money, but enough to get into a lot of trouble.

James Hough James Hough @hihough
In the new Clint Eastwood movie, I hope he plays a man set in his ways.

Conor Tripler Conor Tripler @ConorTripler
*pops collar* *pops collars on shirt sleeves* *pops collar on waistband of pants* *pops collars on uggs* *pops fedora collar* Rdy 4 The Club

Tyler Pearson Tyler Pearson @Thewhiteside0@
"ahh it's fuckin TRIANGLES!!!" - guy I delivered pizza to. Apparently wanted it cut into squares. #priceless

Horse ebooks Horse ebooks @Horse_ebooks
Everything happens so much

Jeff Klinger Jeff Klinger @JeffKlinger
Please delete any texts you received from me last night. There will be no lunches, no hiking, nothing is a great idea, no do this again soon

Schindizzle Schindizzle @Schindizzle
"Speak softly and carry a glow stick." -- Theodore Ravevelt

 carlos carlos @famouscrab
dvds is a scam dont buy them u can just turn on any tv and they lterally have shows on it most days of the week!!!

 vladchoc vladchoc @vladchoc
What we have here is failure to communicate. No, hang on. Ok, no. It's a dog. Sorry, I didn't see the tail. What we have here is a dog.

 Megan Amram Megan Amram @meganamram
"I'm thinking of a letter between 'O' and '3'" - Russians

Friday, October 26, 2012


 I saw the Minnesota Timberwolves play the other night.

I saw them play in Winnipeg and they played the starless and destitute Detroit Pistons in a pre-season exhibition game.

That's a nothing game.

The Wolves are missing Kevin Love with a broken hand, one of the top 10 players in the league who is slowly building a historic career. Ricky Rubio, the Spanish guard that has Nash-like flare and a torn up knee is out. 

So I get it. No star power.

But Brandon Roy is somehow a professional basketball player again, after being forced to retire as an unbelievable still-young player with no cartilage left in his knees. He showed up, he started, and the crowd cheered when he began the game with the ball in his hands. Like, legitimate appreciation that he was back in the NBA. In WINNIPEG MANITOBA CANADA, the fans knew that this guy deserved some love for making a comeback.

So give the Winnipeg sports fans some respect, Gary Lawless.

Writing the article "NBA better than nothing" in the Free Press is doing what the world outside Winnipeg expects us to say. And you said it. And it's not true.

There are sports leagues outside of this city, and people follow them. Some of which aren't locked out right now. I love hockey, but they're ignoring fans right now. Ignore them back.

There's no such thing as a boring story, just a boring way to tell it. And Gary Lawless is a bored writer complaining about boring things.

If the NHL is locked out, why isn't he? He doesn't want to talk about sports. He wants to talk about hockey. And other things, none of which are about sports:

"...the media meal was free and yes I hit the buffet twice and grabbed a couple cookies on the way out. So the night wasn't a total loss."

"The Timberwolves Dance Team? I won't lie. I had a look.
The promotional contests were different than those at hockey games. Refreshing? Sure."

Nice effort.


Monday, October 15, 2012


Lets face it, finding love the old fashioned way ( is a thing of the past. I mean sure, it can be handy for arranging those 2 ½ bottles-of-wine-and-rug-burn kind of dates, but what about MEANINGFUL love? I’m talking about the kind of love where one can take a poop while the other one showers, or where you hold each other and cry when you find out IKEA is coming to your city.
There’s only one answer to that:

Television! Cameras! Ratings! Saline! Tanning beds!
Shows like The Bachelor have become the new dinner and a movie, and they practically always end in true love. This latest one I found is called Desperation, and it's on a weird foreign channel that I can only get during thunderstorms. Here are the characters.

The Bachelor

Chad is a simmering steak of sex. Lightly seasoned with good looks and great hair, his tenderness makes him a medium-rare but his hard upbringing and tight biceps are nothing short of well-done. Born and raised in Venice, Italy, Chad moved to Saskatchewan when he was five but never quite lost his European flare. He lives like a 6-figure playboy with the down-to-earth personality of a city bus driver, mainly because he's a city bus driver who makes 6 figures. Ladies have never been a problem for Chad, but he's been nothing but trouble for the ladies, and their daughters, and their mothers, and their grandmothers. Chad hopes that going on TV to find his true love will be his last dance, but if it isn't, he's always got a full Contacts list to fall back on.

The Ladies

Jenna likes water skiing, playing soccer, and spending time at the cabin. Summer and spring are her favourite seasons, and Gary and Bruce are her favorite names for a bulldog. She doesn't own bulldogs, or even one bulldog, but if she did she would undoubtedly name them Gary and Bruce, no questions asked.

We could sit here and describe Rachel all day, but one look at her ankles and you'd know she's a vixen looking for fun. She enjoys regular stuff like playing the spoons or fetching pails of water, and when she's feeling naughty she'll sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and play on the typewriter.

Brittney K.
Brittney K. is sick of the ups and downs of single life, and all the jokers she's had to meet in her pursuit of love. Her favourite place in the world is bingo on Tuesday nights, and she would expect her soul mate to join her at bingo on Tuesday nights. Perhaps after a while she'd be willing to accommodate Thursday night bingo, but that would mean two nights of bingo a week because she's not willing to give up Tuesday night bingo. Tuesday night bingo will always be a constant in her life no matter what.

 Skyler is finally 21 and she has the ID to prove it! Not one to kiss and tell, she has several friends that have made it to third base and she's pretty sure she knows what that means. After college, Skyler wants to be either a vet or a fragrance model but none of that matters. For Skyler, real life can wait - right now it's all about partying!

Rachelle's clearly a dog dressed up as a human woman.

Brittney L.
What is there to say about Brittney L? She's sexy, she's smart, and when she ok screw it Brittney L. is a guy named Dave.

Delores is like a Rorschach test. What do you see? I see a bat and a lawn gnome.

This one's a 2-for-1 deal. Jin likes doing sudokus, birdwatching, and playing video games. Eve runs on a 60V battery or can be plugged into the wall.


A horse.

Desperation has had me glued to the television for a few weeks now and some shocking twists have already gone down (don't worry, Chad still doesn't know Rachelle's secret and Horse is still in the running). I suggest you give it a try.


Sunday, September 30, 2012

NFL Replacement Refs: Where are they now?

 Following 'Janie's Gun', an Aerosmith cover band, around the state of Missouri and taking advantage of the benefits that come with looking like Clint Eastwood.

Asking her boyfriend stuff like "Which one's Tom Brady?" and "OMG doesn't that hurt?!"

Started a podcast about his cat, Ruffles.

Still deciding whether it's worth bending over to pick up that quarter. It looks pretty shiny. But really, what is 25 cents even worth these days?

Traveling the world taking hilarious pictures of himself picking the Sphinx's nose, holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, squishing the Eiffel Tower, etc.

Just workin' for that weekend, bro.

These aren't actually referees, they're women playing football in lingerie. Which apparently exists.

 On the comedy club circuit doing Seinfeld impressions. "What's the deal with Gatorade?"

Still answering all that fan mail.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Old Fiddle Kills Old Man

Police tape stretched between an old rocking chair and used cat toys this morning, separating the contents of Paulie's Pawn Shop from police officers on their coffee break.

At 6:10 a.m. police were called to a disturbance at 850 20th Street by a passerby who heard raucous music. By 7:25 police had discovered the body of Paulie Notshore, 80, owner of Paulie's Pawn Shop and an overall solid dude.

At approximately 3 a.m. Brenda Whitman, 60, left what can only be described as a non-reputable drinking establishment and heard loud and raucous fiddle music coming from the back of the pawn shop.

"I was dancing outside Paulie's for about three hours. Danced 'til my clothes fell off," said Whitman.

After several hours of lewd and disturbing dancing by Whitman, the music died and she became worried.

"That Paulie, he just never stops. I knew as soon as that music died that he probably had too. And lo-and-behold, I follow the police in through the window they smashed and Paulie is lyin' there, pants around his ankles, clutching an old fiddle."

Constable Bruce Sleuth said upon entering the back room of the pawn shop, he knew a crime had been committed.

"Mr. Notshore was just lying there, not breathing, not blinking, not saying a word. Almost daring me to a blinking contest. So I did. And when he beat me, I thought 'this isn't right'.

It took approximately 20 minutes for police to decide which window to enter the shop through, and another 30 for Notshore to be pronounced dead.

The accused fiddle was eventually confiscated and treated somewhat as evidence, but could then later be heard being played by an on-duty officer.

"Thought I'd take her for a spin" said the unnamed, un-badged officer.

The steely glare of a cold-blooded killer

The fiddle, a blonde 5-string with 2 dark moustaches and a medium build, has prior charges of murder in the first degree, rape and battery, stealing batteries from Giant Tiger, not picking up its dog's poop when it takes it for a walk, and a whole bunch of other really bad stuff.

It remains with police for questioning and could not be reached for comment.

Whitman remains optimistic about the ordeal, but says it will be quite some time before she trusts another fiddle.

"Can you give me a ride home?"

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Z is for...Zzzz

So I went to this play...

It was called Dionysus in Stony Mountain, and the lights were turned down low. I had just eaten a big meal, someone kept sniffling their nose, and this wasn't exactly my first choice of things to do that evening. Oklahoma City was playing Miami that night which could potentially be a preview of the NBA Finals.

So in other words I was annoyed, my mind was somewhere else, and I could feel a giant nap coming on.

The play opened to a guy in prison showing off his tattoo of Dionysus, the Greek god of grapes, among other things. That was the last time anything about Dionysus was mentioned. Is it weird they named the play after a minute of dialogue?

The first act of the play continued on with this guy yakking to a psychiatrist about Nietzsche, and how being off his meds helps him totally see where he was coming from. According to my phone, whose brightness was dimmer than a match, Oklahoma was hanging with Miami but the warmth of the theater and the dim lights were getting to me as my eyelids operated at half-strength. There was no Kleenex to be found, because the sniffling only got worse.

The psychiatrist talks this guy down and promises him that if he takes his meds and keeps it together for the next couple weeks, he'll get released from jail. The actors used the whole modestly built set to move around and explore their endless disagreement full of snobby language. The Heat trailed by 11 at one point, but were leading by half time. The play broke for 20 minutes so the sniffler could seek out some Kleenex, and the thought of some fresh air woke me up.

In the second act of the play, the psychiatrist had quit her job and is renovating a dumpy apartment with an obvious lack of experience in home renovation. Measuring the width of studs? C'mon lady, just hire a contractor. The fresh air did me good and I was maintaining focus. When I came back from the break I snapped up a seat away from the sniffler, who seemed to have dealt with her leaky faucet during the break. The Heat were winning by 7 in what appeared, statistically, to be a great, can't-miss game.

The psychiatrist's rude n' rich uncle shows up and, *gasp*, he is played be the same actor who played the Nietzsche-obsessed prisoner. OHHHHHhhhhh the irony! Much like the first act, they get in a heated argument about politics, family, philosophy, and absolutely nothing concerning the basketball game (Heat seem to be in control, I'm praying for Durant or Westbrook to soon take over). I'm beginning to miss the sniffler as they provided me a nice little subplot to the production, and the obscure and muddy language of the play is starting to put me back to sleep.

The two actors make up and realize they are there for each other more than they've ever been before. After all, what is family for? And no, that is not a line from Nietzsche.
The sniffler, I assume, took some echinacea and is feeling fine by now.
The Heat won by 5, redeeming themselves for the horrible loss to Oklahoma City a week earlier and showing all contenders that they can switch it into gear when need be.
I slept like a baby that night, wondering how the hell you spell Nietzsche.


Friday, March 30, 2012

Y is for...Yawn

Here's an extremely uncharacteristic blog post for you about a book that made me yawn!

For school, I had to read the book Journey for Justice by Mike McIntyre. Now I have to write a blog post about it. But don't fret, I'll try to make it interesting for you. And besides, it's high time I wrote something meaningful (it's worth 15 marks!) and it's high time you read something meaningful (you dummy!)

Journey for Justice is a true crime novel about the Candace Derksen case, a Winnipeg girl who went missing in 1984. The case went cold until 2007, when really cool computers that test DNA and do other cool science stuff progressed to a point where DNA evidence held up in court. But hey, don't take my word for it; go here and learn more about the case, you dummy.

I enjoyed this book for all the wrong reasons. Well, actually I enjoyed it for one main reason: I can't read.

Haha just kidding, yes I can. But I hadn't read a book in an embarrassingly long time, and I'm pretty sure the last true crime book I read centered around a couple brothers, last name Hardy. So... I was due.

Once I had rediscovered the magic of reading, I didn't think this book was very good. Typos were abundant, time and place was occasionally unclear, people and memories felt valorized, and quite honestly, it felt like a book written about something that happened 30+ years ago. Before you get smart and tell me it WAS about something that happened 30+ years ago, allow me to explain.

I had no feeling for time in this story. The case began in '84 but I never got any indication of that through the story's details. Yes it was stated, but not enough historical context was given about things like the reaction of police, political landscape, or even the city of Winnipeg during the 80's. A large part of Winnipeg is in this book because of the effect the Derksen case had on the city, but what kind of city Winnipeg was at the time? I have no idea.

For a number of my classmates, the Derksen family's faith was one of the sitting ducks of the book's "issues". The Derksen's are very religious and they depended on faith a great deal during their awful tragedy. I was surprised how much that aspect of the book resonated. This family was going through an unthinkable amount of pain after their daughter simply never came home from school one day, but the level of compassion and selflessness that Wilma Derksen (Candace's mother) maintained during it was incredible. I can see how someone may say the book was too religious, but in this instance I didn't think it was. Mainly because of how much it affected one of the main character's, Wilma Derksen.

I sat in on a seminar by Mike McIntyre and Wilma Derksen after reading the book.

Mike seemed very similar to the voice he writes in the Winnipeg Free Press. Scattered, explicative and intelligent. Running off on a tangent that will undoubtedly make people forget what he was talking about, but being educated on every damn word of it. His relationship with Wilma seemed genuine

Wilma was the mold they began making grandmothers from. Sweet, patient, and a voice as soft as her sweater. I couldn't believe this is what a woman who lived 30 years with a missing daughter looked like. I would have forgiven her if her resting facial expression was a frown, given that I had just read such a personal and painful story about her. But instead I found myself wanting to hear more from her because I wanted to know how she stayed so reasonable through it all.

True crime is an interesting topic because, of course, it will never run dry of topics and, of course, they are always stories about misery. But I think Mike McIntyre showed in this book that telling a victim's story while adhering to facts is still a popular template to write a true crime novel from. The Derksen family suffered the most from this tragedy and therefore the book is written out of their camp, while the crazy guy who still won't admit to the murder is described by several medical and psychological reports. He was being fingered before the second chapter.

I suggest McIntyre's articles in the Winnipeg Free Press rather than this book. Also, I would suggest reading a book once in a while because it can make even the most depressing story you have to read because your instructors told you to, enjoyable.


Monday, March 19, 2012

X is for... Xzibit

 I sat down with foul-mouthed, formerly-relevant rapper Xzibit for a little Q and A. At times it was a little tricky to get a word in edgewise, but overall, he had some interesting things to say. Enjoy.

Pint of McGuinness: Good morning X, how are you today?

Xzibit: Yeah, ladies and gentleman
            Broadcasting live to you and yours

Actually no we won't be broadcasting this, but what are your thoughts on a podcast?

It's Mr. X to the Z, Xzibit
Yeah, bounce it
Come on

Hm...okay. Well why don't you start off by giving us some of the influences of your career? Who inspires you?

The first day of the rest of my life
X stand behind the mic like Walter Cronkite
That's interesting, I bet few other rappers would cite a tv newsreader from the 60's when talking about their influences. What's a typical day like for you?

Y'all keep the spotlight
I'm keeping my rhymes tight
Lose sight of what you believe
And call it a night

Right, I can only imagine how much work it is to keep your rhymes tight. Alright, time to go to some questions from my readers. Jessie from Indiana asks: "Dear Xzibit: What is your favourite drink?"

This ain't the light-weight, cake mix shit
That you're used to
Teflon territory you just can't shoot through
You gon shoot who? (Who?)
Not even on your best day
Rollin' the Wild West way, givin' it up
Leavin' the whole world stuck not givin' a f**k
Laid in the cut now we break through in the rut
Hennesy and Orange Juice baby fill up a cup
You strike me as a pulp guy, am I wrong?

Umm, yeah I guess I like pulp. But I hope that answers your question Jessie. Next, Mark from Halifax asks: "Hey X, do you have a girlfriend?"

Quick to grab Mary Jane by the butt and squeeze
Alright, sexual harassment isn't really appropriate for this sort of place so I'm going to have to ask you to...ohhh Mary Jane means
Loosen up, let your hair down, and join the festivities
Overcrowd the house like lockdown facilities
Bitches be quick to give me brains while I post the range
Going up and down my d**k like the stock exchange

Ok, ok, I think that answers Mark's question. And X, I'm gonna have to ask you to keep the language a little more appropriate.

X, Rearrange the whole game with my rugged sound
X, Won't even say your own name when I come around
X, Stay on top but remain from the underground
X to the Z and we all in the family

Good, I'm glad you...agree? What is making rapper's money like? Is it really like all the rims and chains we see in the videos?

Ever since Xzibit has spit, been on some pimp shit
Approach every woman like a potential mistress
Shine bright, make sure that X stay tight
Cause tonight I might meet my next X wife
Mr. Big Chief Reefa, Xzibit use his d**k like a Visa
I run it through and money come out

Wow, dick Visas? That, I can honestly say, I've never heard of before. How do you...Do people ever...actually you know what, never mind, we'll just move on. Why don't we talk about some of your beefs with other rappers. I know you and The Game didn't always get along...

Runnin' your mouth, I'll have somebody run in your house
Ravel your spouse and have a little fun on the couch
Now you know that it was bound to happen
I came to give you what you lackin'
Whenever you hear them other ni**as rappin
Rockin' chains, stadium, paladiums, cracked craniums
My whole skeleton is dipped in titanium
Drop tops sittin' on twenties
Using rappers like crash test dummies
Stackin' real estate and money
It's funny how things change overnight
When you thinking right
I beat the odds like Ike beat on his first wife

I'm pretty sure I just heard you say that your skeleton is dipped in titanium. I think you said those words. And I think that's impossible. But I'll take your word on it and move on. Brent from Edmonton wants to know: "Are you hardcore?"

What an event?
We hardcore 100%
Making it stick, Los Angeles proudly presents
The real deal, how does it feel?
No special effects
Yank the chain off of your neck
Demand the respect

How did becoming rich and famous change your relationship with the people around you? 

Now all your conversations sound strange to me
It be like everybody around me done changed but me
I stand alone on my own two feet
Stagger tracks, strangle the beat
Restless no time for sleep
Ni**as be weak, I'm concrete like Benjamin Greet

According to Google, Benjamin Greet was a Shakespearean actor and director who died in 1936 so...what the hell do you mean? 

It's a very thin line between a foe and a friend
 Straight to the chair
(Not these ni**as again)
Come back, bounce in the spot and slide right in

...fair enough. What do your plans look like for the near future? 

I ain't trying to see nothing but progress, regardless
Home of the heartless, move right, remain cautious
Represent nothing but the hustle and struggle
Hennesy, rock plenty of ice, making a double, now SCREAM

Once again, I have no idea what that means but I'll write it down and hopefully everyone who reads this will understand. I should also mention that Snoop Dogg has joined the interview and is acting... pretty weird. Snoop, do you have anything to say about your friend Xzibit?

Snoop Dogg
So there you have it; A-B-C, D-P-G-C
X to the motherf*****n Z
Mr. Xuberant, Xtravagant, Xtrodinary, Xciting, X-a-lotta
X-O with a little bit of Xtasy
X-ing your b****-*ss out if you tryin to test the G
And what's the recipe? Xcalibur weaponary
And we shoot Xceptionally
That there is hot- X marks the spot?
F*** naw, X spots the marks
Xclamation point, ni**az!

Alright, I think that should probably conclude this horrible interview. A video of this can be seen here:


Thursday, February 16, 2012

W is for...Winning Westminster


PSYCH! If you've never heard of me you can pick your weak ass up off the flo' and use that door! Don't let it hit you on the way out either, cuz I probably own that door. I OWN! I have crazy investments everywhere and you probably even work for me. I'm your bozz.

K so straight up it's like this. I'm not one bit surprised I won Westminster this year and that shouldn't surprise ya'll either. But I'd be crazy clueless if I didn't think some of you out there wuz HATERS, and now you recognize my grandeur. GRAND! EUR! I like iz crazy successful. But yo, I'll let you scratch my belly if you wanna scratch it, you know what I mean? A wize man once sed 2 me that if people want to love you, you best let them. Because If I wuz you, I'd luv my ass too. I WIN!

ANYwaze, game day was pretty standard. I was saggin' from the night before, cuz if any of you have ever been to Westminster before (probs haven't, it's elite) your weak asses would know that the night before is off tha hook. Like, prolly 30 shots sorta thing? Wuz absolutely WASTED with that girl from Survivor. She was the one who was crying cuz she missed her family cuz they wuz in the jungle or whatever? K ya whateverz. She was hot. And ya, we made out hard.  She wasn't the only one that night (OBVS) but defs the first gurl from Survivor I ever hooked up wit. DOUBT IT'S DA LAST THO!!!11

So whatevs, ated my pre-game burrito like usual and just threw on my shades in the back of da limo on the way 2 da showz. HUNG! But I knew whut I had 2 do so I just didn't stress.

By the time we showed up I was sorta trippin. I ated McDonalds the night before cuz I was starving (always get hungry when I do drugs) and it was almost show time. OH NO, PRE-GAME DEUCE!! So I told da boyz I was gonna go look for a bathroom to do my thing at. I was wearing a toque and hoodie cuz A. I was looking like shit, and B. MEDIA! FANZ! Celebs trying to get endorsements and shitz from me! So I gotta roll low profile, you know?

So I'm looking around for da poop room and out of nowhere I run into none other than:


I was like CRISSCRISSCRISS yelling my head off at him but he obvs couldn't tell who I wuz cuz of my toque and shades, so he didn't say anything back but whateverz I was busy too and he is probably a big fan of mine so I don't really think I could stop and chat anyway. 

Did my thing in the bathroom and was like SO GOOD LETS DO THIS!!1

And then I won the show. Don't need to tell you bout that cuz you obvs watched it fo sho. This is wut I have to sez about my competitors tho:

Dalmatian - Relax wit da spots!
Dachshund - Ur name sounds like a sneeze. Bless you.
German shepherd - Ur ugly, go back to Germania. Leave your girlfriend here.
Doberman pinscher - Didn't see him pinch nobody. All bark no bite (pun).
Irish setter - Nobody cares about gingers.
Kerry blue terrier - Not blue. Dunno who Kerry is but she makes shitty dogs.

After I won, it was pretty much like this for da next couple dayz:

OH YA BABY take my picturez, those shits last longer. No autographs tho. I don't have thumbs.

I know what you fellas are gonna ask, so I'll just say this: Yes I did! And she iz a freak!

I'm like already half cut.

Not now lady, we are on da newz!

So ya, total party time stuff. And like I said b4, maybe a lot of peeple like me more now, but whatever. I wud love me too If I was so as unsweet as you were compared to how sweet I iz. So we don't even bother going there.

So what happens now for Da Big Sweep AKA DA PRINCE PEKINGESE?