Ketchup.... Catsup?

Yesterday morning I got out of bed and went to make myself some breakfast when I noticed I only had end pieces left on the bread I bought last week. "Mom, we're out of bread," I bellowed realizing that there was no more mom... If I wanted more bread I would have to... gulp... buy some. I looked at the end pieces in the loaf and considered skipping breakfast. Then with a bitter curse I ate the end piece!!! I never eat the end piece! "END PIECE!!! DAMN YOU END PIECE!!! Damn you all to hell!!!"

I always enjoyed doing the groceries. But I feel somewhat overwhelmed when I walk in to a grocery store. Every time I go in it feels like the first time. Hundreds of thousands of products each one begging to be dumped into my cart. And all the people.. and the lights... I tried to recall what things I absolutely needed. Bread of course. Milk. Some kind of lunch meat.

Lots of strange things go through my head when I'm grocery shopping. For example I saw 2 boxes of Mr. Christie cookies for 5 dollars. I already had a box of cookies at home, but remembering how Vrej, Dave and Mo ripped through my junk food on the weekend, I figured I would need a refresher should the scenario repeat itself this week. I now have 3 boxes of cookies, cake-mix and popcorn in my cupboard.

Milk... I never really paid too much attention to the percentage of the milk until Vrej pointed out that what I was drinking was 3.25 percent. He sounded horrified, "You drink 3.25% Milk???" so this week I bought a lower percentage. Then I spent about 5 minutes deciding whether to buy butter or margarine. Hot dogs? Yoghurt? Why is that lady touching my cart? Mmm.. delicious clementines... grapes...

And after all that you still go home and realize you've forgotten something. I openned my cupboard in despair and beheld the two unopenned cans of tuna I had bought the previous week. They will remain unopenned as I have no can-openner. Stay tuned for next week when MastaCSG purchases a tool with which to unleash the awesome power of tuna fish.

Remember Shame?

The moment the temperature goes up a few degrees, girls start taking their clothes off. Nothing new there. What I think is more recent, is the idea that anyone can strut around in revealing clothing. This is not the case. If you have man teats, I don't care if it's a little humid. Put on a goddamn shirt, for all of our sakes.

For example, the other day I saw a young lady (probably very young) wearing a charming little backless number. At least it would have been charming if not for the fact that ripples of fat were wrapped around the straps. And what's the deal with fat girls wearing hip huggers? It's supposed to look sexy. Is it just me or is a fountain of fat oozing out from tight jeans not that sexy.

Call me shallow, but I miss the days of good old fashionned shame. I don't understand why fat girls insist on dressing like skanks. Be ashamed. You sicken me with your blubber. Only Jabba the Hutt has the right to flaunt his corpulence.

I guess my friend Min said it best.

Masta: There's a girl in my class with the last name Ho. I assumed she was related to your friend, Celine Ho.
Min: Just cuz her last name is Ho, doesn't mean they're related. There are lots of Hos around.
Masta: Amen to that...

My new "digs"

So I've moved out into my own crib. MAD MAD props, to J-bo, Marie-Eve, Rezaul and my cousin Chad. This move, involving about 40 boxes, various furniture, a trip to Cote-st Luc and three flights of stairs took from 9am to 11am. Thanks guys.

I enjoy the peace of being home alone. And I'm nearer to school which is also great. Though the other day I missed my bus and did something foolish. I took another bus to the orange line to connect with another bus that concievably would get me to school faster. Anyway, that ended up taking an hour instead of the usual 10 minutes. And I can't remember ever being on a bus with more old people. It was like taking a ferry ride down the River Styx.

Hard Core Greggophiles will have to come see the place at some point. Board Games and Poker to be played. Sites to be seen... Stay tuned...

Sales Pitch

For those of you who haven't heard, I'm moving into my own Swinging Shagadellic Sanctuary this Saturday! It should be interesting.

It's already interesting. I find myself thinking about things that I never had to consider before. Things in my house like food, clean clothes, microwaves, chairs.... It never occured to me that these things don't just materialize ot of thin air. Food has to be cooked.... clean clothes are actually derived from dirty clothes after a process known as washing them.

And chairs... well it turns out those have to be purchased! So this weekend I went with my dad to pick up some sofas at a place on Notre Dame street. This is after dissapointing trips to the much hyped ML which in my opinion has some of the ugliest furniture I've ever seen. Anyway, this place on Notre Dame street had a really nice couch. My dad and I were trying to haggle the guy to give us a deal that was beyond amazing.

Things got funny when the guy asks if my dad and I were from Jamaica. "No, we're not from Jamaica." Then the guy says, "My wife is from Jamaica!" I looked at my dad, "I don't see what this has to do with the sofas..."

Anyway, the salesman, a portly white guy with hair that was more than just a little askew, went behind his counter and got a picture of his wife. It turns out his wife is a super hot black woman. At which point I was trying to figure out how he got such a good looking wife and before I knew it! His trick had worked. Haggling decreased... The salesman's creed increased. And I bought the sofa. I still got an amazing deal. Sofa, loveseat, bed frame, matress and boxspring for 875$ taxes and delivery included.

But my thoughts still linger on how that chubby dude got such an amazing wife. Did he help her get her green card? Or maybe it's all just a ruse. Maybe when brown people show up in the store, he shows pictures of brown ladies. Maybe when Chinese people come into the store he shows them pictures of hot Chinese women and says that they're his wife. Well played salesguy... well played...

So wrong...

It was brought to my attention that Angelina Jolie was going to adopt another child. It was also brought to my attention that her current son wanted a black brother! I wonder why? Does Angelina Jolie expose her son to the latest in black entertainment... 50 cent videos and what not? He probably just thinks black people are cool. I would expect a son of Angelina to be so wise.

I wonder how you qualify to be adopted by Angelina Jolie one of the hottest women on earth. I can just see a line up of black guys from around the world waiting to audition. I'm sure that Mike Epps, star of the box office smash Honeymooners would be first in line.

Mike Epps: "So what? Do I have to sing a song or something?"
Angelina: "You're a little old aren't you?"
Mike Epps: "This sounds like discrimination to me..."
Angelina: "Alright well... say something cute..."
Mike Epps: "I want to have sex with you..."
Angelina: "NEXT!!!"

Alfonso Ribeiro: "You have a nice chest!"
Angelina: "NEXT!!!"

OJ Simpson: "You're one white woman I would consider not killing!"
Angelina: "NEXT!!!"

Al Roker: "I've already seen you naked in that movie... So at least it won't be wierd."
Angelina: "NEXT!!!"

MastaCSG: "I require breast feeding."
Angelina: "Mmm... I wouldn't be much of a mother if I didn't breast feed my sexy black son. Alright, you're hired! I mean... adopted."

Wow.... what a life... I could be Anglina Jolie's adoptive son... With benefits!!! SICK!!! in so many ways...

Let me do a throwaway post in betwix

Sorry for the late update. I don't have internet at home and I find myself uncharacteristically busy and ill-tempered. Sorry Mo! But I'm like that black guy in the commercial for tropical halls. I got two jobs!

It ain't easy. Think I wanna work? No... I'd rather blog all day... WAtch Star Trek. Go to the mountains with a guitar and sing the songs I like to sing... I'd like to dress up as a clown, go to school and surprise the kids. I'd like to go to a movie theatre, take a dump in the back of the theatre and wait around until someone sits in it... Listen for the squish.. I find it funny!

But being the Masta ain't always easy. I'll write a real post soon.

10Q

So, it's a week late but, thanks to everyone for the birthday goodness last week! I got some cool gifts from lab folk(tania, janine, alex, simon, reza, colin, nishant et al)! Goodness from my parents. Cindy bought me a book and a new schoolbag cuz my old one looked like it was about to disintergrate. Alpha posse (You know, your droopy, chuchu, jbo, rez, M-E, tbone, Ba$$ medley) got me Dave Chapelle season's 1 &2 and other cool stuff!!! INSANELY AWESOME. Mel and Pat, thanks for the awesome book. Pam thanks for the awesome Yoda shirt. Great Bday everyone. Most mind boggling was the clubbing outing at Central Station. It was a huge highschool reunion. I've never seen anything like it.

On that note, I'd like to give a shout out to all my peeps. Ahem... Shoutout to Mo, Joe, Dave, Neil, Indy, Puishe, Conrad, Mike A., Manesha, Neera, Vikas, Ken Martin, Kevin Hui and that girl who who seemed to know me. Good times. Thanks to all! It was nice to see all you guys and gals! The biowife outing is still pending... They'd better get their act together! Unlike last year where we celebrated my birthday in late July!!!

Anyway, kind of an incoherent post... But what else can I say? It was a fun time... The only thing more thrilling than my birthday week was the discoery of new dryers in the bathrooms near the skating rink at Bonaventure. Now that thing freaking dries your hands! The thing is so powerful it actually causes ripples in your skin! It's insane!

The whitest black guy you know, may be the blackest black guy you never wished to know

The other day on my lunch break I ran into a girl I knew who proceeded to tell me that she had a flight to catch in a few hours. She explained that she was notorious for missing flights and after missing a flight she had to cry in order to convince the airline to give her a flight at a later time. Being in a particularly talkative mood I jokingly asked, "Mmm... I wonder if that would work for me! Or maybe I would have to take the other route and play the angry black man card, ie. YOU'D BEST GIVE ME THE NEXT FLIGHT BEFORE I TEAR THIS MOTHA F**KA DOWN!!!" She responded with a quaint giggle and said, "Wow.. that was cute. I've never seen you act black before." then she realized the irony of talking about missing flights when she had a flight to catch and left.

The point is if I had a nickel for everytime someone said, I don't act black or I'm the whitest black guy they know well, I'd also be the richest black guy they know. Ironically, being the richest black guy they know would also make me the whitest black guy they know. I used to take it personally then I realized that almost all black guys who aren't stereotypes striaght off of MTV have been told they act white.

I saw a brown guy the other day, blacking it up like an electrified black machine on the bus. He was wearing the super baggy clothes with basketball logos all over it, a dewrag and a cap which was worn slightly askew... Anyway, as droopy would say, that's neither here nor there. But he was talking to his friend about having forgotten something at his friend's house. He said something like, "I left my s**t at my friend's Crizzib... Now I have to go back to his crizzib to get my s**t... His crizzib is right near the autopark though, so it's not so bad."

I was pretty upset. I mean... crizzib???? Rule # 1 out of the How to be Black handbook, "You can call your house your crib, you can call your crib your hizzouse, but you must NEVER call your hizzouse your crizzib!!!" And that's for obvious reasons. How dare he throw centuries of ebonics out the window and dishonor my people so casually.

And therein lies the reason that fewer and fewer black people "talk black". Because many white people and some brown people have made it very uncool. And as one thing becomes uncool, black people adapt. For every Vanilla Ice, there is a Brian Gumble. For every Eminem there are 3 Blair Underwoods. For every Ryan Seacrest there are 7.5 Alfonso Ribeiros. And for every House of Pain there are 17 Chris Greggs. So bullocks to any knave who doesn't like the way I talk! Rule #1 about being MastaCSG, I keeps it RELLLLL!!! That's right... rell.

A day in the lab of...

For all of you who think that science labs are a boring place, think again! The lab is a workplace ripe with sexual tension. For starters, yours truly, the resident hot guy of the bio department works there. My buff body and ready wit are a constant distraction to the hapless women who wander in hoping to get their work done. Just the other day I bellowed, "Janine, GET ME A MOTHA F**KIN SANDWHICH!!"

So she didn't quite get me the sandwhich, but she was impressed by my macho commands. That's how you gotta treat these women! Let em' know who's boss!!! So I slapped her!!!

And this is how my day generally proceeds. I'm quite the pimp. But it sometimes works against me. Often, trying to get work done is impossible. It's like those commercials for TAG deodorant. Women leaping in through the windows trying to touch my delts and pecs. I'm too studly.

Something as simple as reaching for a pipette can turn into sexual harassment suit, as my gargantuan biceps brush against an unsuspecting feminina. I guess it has something to do with pheromones or something, cuz that's all it takes for me to be tackled by every woman in the department. This weekend in court is gonna be hell! It ain't easy being the hottest guy in the industry!

******************************************************

Brace yourselves!!! You've heard Chris' perspective on lab life, now let me tell you how it really goes down. I, the hot girl on the 5th floor (that's right Simon, your title has been usurped), walked into lab today and there was Chris... not wearing any pants, again. He says he finds them constrictive when he's pipetting. I try to get down to my cell counting, when along comes now shirtless Chris (he blames this on some girl in the hall). He's holding a beaker of concentrated acid and telling me some story about how Yoda is 10X more powerful than Darth Vader.

It is impossible to get any work done! I blame this solely on my hotness and know i must be an incredible distraction to the guys in the lab. Just today, I could barely get my work done with Chris begging me to let him cell count... I would have, just to give the poor guy something to do, but his speedo got caught in the centrifuge and he was busy with that for a few hours.

I tell you, it's a gong show. Ghost Dog signing off.

Featuring Guest Blogger Janine (who wishes to keep her identity secret, so we'll just call her Ghost Dog).

"Yuck! I'll just take the crab juice!"

Ever had a day that just wouldn't end? That day was last thursday for me. And it started off so well. I showed up for work at 11am, as I am often wont to do. And the professor said, "Well, there isn't much for you to do today. Just calculate the oxygen consumption for these yeast strains and go home!"

Sweet! That should only take about 20 minutes. Of course, I had to wait for my supervisor to draw the slopes for the oxygen consumption. Seeing as he was busy, I ended up waiting about an hour.

No big deal, still plenty of day left. After I had lunch and spoke to the secretary about getting a swipe card it was about 3pm. Wow... 3pm already! Time flies!!!

So I took the bus to the metro for some sweet relaxation at home. But the metro was stalled for an indefinite amount of time. Bleh! The available detour took about an hour and a half. Oh well, on the way home I met someone I hadn't seen in years who was a teacher for blind and mute children. Needless to say her experiences were very interesting. Most surprising was whereby she finished work looking bright and chipper, I usually leave work feeling like a train wreck.

At this point it was already well past 4pm. Going back to the South Shore was a rather foolish endeavor seeing as I wanted to go downtown again to make my Kali class (philipino martial art). Beeing slightly dazed and jaded and confused I went back to the Shore anyway, with the intention of getting a Lightsaber at Walmart. I would be a super star if I busted into Episode 3 wielding a blue lightsaber with all the noises and the lights and the *GlaVEn*!!!

So I took the 49 bus back to Walmart, and met a former coworker of mine. She asked, "Going to Walmart? What for???"

I was most ashamed to be searching out a lightsaber so I said, "Oh... I'm... ummm... Looking for a gift for my sister... Any suggestions?" I did in fact need a gift for my sister. No need to get into any impromptu lightsaber convos.

Of all things she suggests I buy her an agenda? "Hey that's a good idea!" I exclaimed, then moments later contemplated the level of dissapointment that would ensue if my sister actually did recieve an agenda. So I did actually look at the agendas at Walmart when I remembered my true purpose. LIGHTSABER!! Sister shmister...

Walmart had no lightsabershowever (they actually had some creedless foam lightsabers but.. who cares?)... :-( So I made the long trip back into town. At this point I was very thirsty. I decided to spend 5 $ on one of those specialty juices at that place in Bonaventure. I decided to be adventurous. What do I do? I buy a Carrot, apple and ginger juice. What the hell was I thinking? I took a sip of it and my face contorted in horror. It was so awful I could only take about 4 sips before chucking the thing into the trash. I was truly appauled... At whoever decided ginger would taste good with carrot and apple, and at myself for actually buying something so ridiculous. 5$ well spent.

There was still time to kill. I went to the Bay, and went up the 4-5... 6?? flights of stairs to the toy department. It never fails to amaze me how huge the bay downtown is. Anyway, they had lightsabers there, but none that made cool noises. I still played with it. There were some older people there who tried to avert their gaze as I disgraced myself. So I passed on that. And went to my martials arts class. On the way home I missed several buses, and got home much later than I expected.

And that was my neverending day. If you have read up to this point, I'm impressed.

*Revenge of the Sith Review*

So I actually ended up seeing Revenge of the Sith on Friday (bereft of lightsaber). And was pleasantly surprised. More or less. I mean the movie was still utterly cheesy (bad lines, bad acting), but compared to the first two, it was a masterpiece. Rez would argue that the lines were cheesy in Eps IV to VI but I disagree.

General Grievous was a huge dissapointment. In the cartoons he was ominous and terrifying. In the movie he was comical and quite frankly useless.

Another dissapointment was Anakin actually turning to the darkside. They give a good reason, but the actual point at which he turns is silly. Whether the scene fell flat because of bad acting or bad writing I can't decide. But it definately did. I guess I can't say anymore without spoiling the movie.

This movie was very grim compared to the first two and therein lies the movies saving grace. Ewan McGregor as Obi Wan. He is the only believable character in the entire trilogy. All the darkness and disturbing connotations of the film would have been for nothing if not for Obi Wan. He's the only one who seems genuinely shocked and hurt by the way things have gone so badly. Maybe cuz he's the only one who can act. It also made for a very good ending to the movie. Where I expected George Lucas to force feed us some very contrived action scenes where spaceships and lightsabers and robots come together in some orgy of cartoon like violence, the movie actually climaxed on a somewhat emotional note.

Don't get me wrong, we still get our lightsabers and action and then some. But the movie still conveyed the tragedy of Anakin's fall to the darkside making this movie, good. It's also very interesting to watch Episode IV after that. You can't look at Darth Vader in the same way.

In short, Episode III redeems Eps I and II which were at best, mediocre Saturday morning cartoons.

*Today's post was brought to you from the lab as my interenet at home is not working for some reason... nyarr....*

How wrong we were!

So the other day Droopy informed me that he and some other people from where he... ahem... "works" were looking at old Centennial yearbooks. I can't imagine what kind of job provides so little work that someone woke up in the morning and actually decided to bring a yearbook with them for something to do, but I digress. The point is, I also broke out the old year book the other day and couldn't help but laugh at the hilarious messages some old High School people wrote.

Why so funny? Not because people were actually telling jokes, but in retrospect, one can fully appreciate the irony of what was on our minds some 7 years ago. I know I always beat this point to death but, the more things change the more things stay the same, despite some of our best efforts.

Let's take Tony's message for example. You can tell that post-high-school was supposed to be some sort of rennaissance for Tony. He wanted us all to shed our geeky personas and move onto bigger, better things. He wrote: "I can only hope to forget Star Trek conversations, cartoons and talking about rap music...." Wow... Nice try tony, but I have yet to speak to you without mentionning one or all of these things in an evening. Forget Star Trek Conversations??? WE ARE STAR TREK CONVERSATIONS!

Tony also wrote, "I'll be seeing you all summer and during Champlain!" Ironically, we barely saw Tony at Champlain. As most of us from high-school stuck together and refused to grow up a la Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, Tony decided to make something of himself by "studying" and "working hard" and "getting a girlfriend". How gay! Sure, schools from around the globe may be offering him scholarships, but does he know how many ships were destroyed during the Borg invasion at Wolf 359??? I imagine he doesn't (39 ships including the USS Saratoga... 11000 people died!).

Look what Vrej wrote. "It's not as if I'm never going to see you again.. So I have not much to say.. Ummm.. Big Hit this weekend (years from now this comment from the past will seem quite dated as no one will even remember what The Big Hit is or was or whatever." Well, I guess you're eating your words now. In the last 7 years, I would say we talk about the Big Hit at least once every few months. Strange but true. Even if just to squeal Avery Brooks' line, "BUST SOME CAPS!?!?"

I don't remember talking to Karthik much at all in High School, but when I read his message it all came flooding back: "You remember something when you go to Cegep. I will ALWAYS be behind your desk kicking your chair because I am the hunter and you are the prey." Dear God I used to hate you Kart. I remember you kicking my goddamn chair deliberately just to annoy me. ALL THE TIME! Why did you do that? I almost forgot, but here it is in writing!

Does anyone remember Faraz/Bassem shouting out SOBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB???????? Bassem even stuck it to Faraz good in the yearbook: "Thanks to everyone (even Faraz)." Ah... The Faraz/Bassem rivalry... as old as time. They're like Odo and Quark.

Before I was MastaCSG I was (according to the yearbook) referred to as, Kermitt the Frog, Mr. Garisson from South Park, Dikembe Mutumbo, G delta C (where C is a change in coolness) and Chrissy Greggy. There was also the less popular "Chris in Da Hood". A few people called me that and I tried to popularize it as best I could, but it never caught on.

And at least several people wrote in my year book that I've helped them. Rez: "Thanks for the memories and thanks for all the help!" Pam: "You've been a great help to me!" Conrad: "Thanks for the help!" What did I used to do to help people? There are even people writing apologies in my yearbook for writing curse words and vulgarity! Other people said I had a positive outlook on life. It makes me realize that in 7 years I have transformed from a kind, loveable, polite young man into a foul mouthed, ornery bastard! Cool!

Oh well, this yearbook is a nice little momento... I mean... In a way. It's just a reminder that everything is essentially the same as it was 7 years ago! Except many of us have been twisted by the darkside. Actually, there is one message that reveals the seed of evil that was in me at the time.

"Hey Chris! Ever since Rep in June... we have known each other! I was constantly humming X-men and you were always trying to avoid me. I could bet my life that you had learned more about Wolverine then you had during your whole life prior to meeting me. Now you are in sec 5 and all I get out of you is "SHUT UP!" It was nice knowing you, I know we'll keep in touch even though you're always trying to kill me! You're friend..."

Kill him? Wow. 5$ to the first person who can guess what poor sap would take that kind of crap from Chrissy Greggy.

Good times... I feel I should apologize because I know I was notorious for writing the most vapid, meaningless yearbook messages in school! "Good luck on exams! ummm... Nice knowing you?"

Thanks for the memories guys! (Except you Neil! You never did sign my yearbook you bastard! Most likely to succeed indeed... ) It's nice to know that as years go by, we're still in touch. Even Pat D. who's out in Sassy Saskatoon...Tony who's... umm... in Ontario. Jay K... who's... somewhere?! Pat KC... all y'all! Poor out some liquors!

The wallet fasts while the stomach feasts

So it was our friend, Viv's birthday and Cris made some reservations for a restaurant called Gibby's. I was all like, "Sure! Sounds like a larf!"

Larf my A$$!!! It was only later that I discovered that Gibby's is some high fallootin joint that charges about 35$ for a single plate of food! I didn't know Viv rolled like this! I paid 40$ for my meal! That's about 8 rotis! Or 30 hot dogs from Bell Province! Or 26 double cheeseburgers at McD's. DOUBLE CHEESEBURGERS!!! That's the equivalent of 52 burgers!

Oh well, at least I got to be loud, rude and belligerent in a classy place. Jon and Alex needed to smoke large amounts of weed to appreciate the meal that would cost them their children's education.



Here's Bahira and Alex, his eyes glowing with a healthy and somewhat demonic red glow. "There is no Alex only Zool!"



Here's Gina, and Viv, the one responsible for my very costly supper! Hey viv! You owe me 40$!!!



Cris and Janet


Cris and Chris


Chris, Jon and Simon


To make up for the ghastly cost of my meal, everyone who has viewed this site has been billed 40$ (just to make sure). And for future reference, I'm only going to pay more than 30$ for food if someone I know wins one of the following: An Oscar, a Pulitzer, the Nobel Prize or a Grammy. Birthday parties, Golden Globes or Barmitzvah's are no longer a reason to spend this kind of money on food.

Weekend in Tdot!

This weekend was my training weekend in TO. I applied to be an Mcat teacher and this weekend was when they would show me all the secrets of the trade.

Enter Joe. Friday after the cheesy intro training, I met up with Mr. Greiss who promised a night out on the town and delivered. Despite my insistence that I should be back at the hotel by 1am cuz I had to give a lecture the following morning, I was brought to a club with Joe and friend Kevin. Deep down I guess I knew there was no chance of me getting back by 1. We wandered the streets for a while, ran into THE RUSSELL PETERS when the most ditzy blond I've ever met got us into club DNA for free.

Nice looking place but almost empty... and sausage fest...

Or was it? I guess all DNA needed was three studs to liven up the place. The place was quite dead. Honestly. Almost no one dancing... very few girls. Joe decided it was time we gave this cemetery a break and show off our moves. We get to the dance floor. I'm not exaggerating. We were surrounded by women in minutes. I swear on a stack of bibles. Everywhere we turned. I guess toronto has never seen the likes of me before. Honestly we could have gotten any woman in that club... The three blonds in cowboy hats with shirts that said, "We love (are?) boobies!" Those really hot girls who may have been a touch on the young side. The supermodel-esque woman whom few dared approach. And those that Joe described as "decent looking girls about our age.". All very hot and all smiling and shaking their money makers in our direction. It was awesome, we were stars for the night! But 2am closing time for clubs in TO did not let me express my full creed! I was only getting warmed up. I explained to the women, "In Montreal, the clubs close 1 hour later than here! Back in Mount Real, we call 2am to 3am, Masta's Hour of Power!" But much to the dissapointment of the pleading cowboy chics, I had to go. Next time baby... next time...

Not that the hotel was the most desirable place for entertaining guests at that time. The chubby guy who I was sharing a room with hadn't budged since I left. He was dead asleep and snoring with a book over his face. He had been studying for the lecture we had to give the next day. What's really funny about him is the way he wakes up. As I walked from the door to my bag, he springs up like a jack in the box. It was really funny. He fell back to sleep in like 40 seconds. I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, he sprung up again, a look of terror in his eyes. "Relax dude!"

Anyway. He set his alarm for like 6am. I woke up and he bursts awake and with a groan slams the snooze button on the alarm. He's snoring again in seconds. I'm not so lucky. 5 minutes later it rings again. And again. I was woken up by the alarm at least 4 times!!! I was furious! "Why don't you just set the goddamn alarm for 7:00 and wake up then?!?" We both fell back asleep. Precious sleep.

When I woke up, it was about 8:15am. The alarm didn't go off and guy was fast asleep. "Dude!" I yelled. He popped up and with that fight or flight look to him and then cursed at the clock. We scrambled to get to the office on time.

And so, they gave us some training tips and then we gave our lectures. I was so out of it. I had prepared a pretty decent lecture too... Unfortunately I was too tired to deliver it. "The cell... has to replicate... It's DNA??? DNA... uuuuuuuugh...." I drew messy diagrams on the board and slurred and stuttered like I had just gone on a tequilla bender all night and woken up in a dumpster. I sucked.

That night, I met up with the legendary Pat Kim Chiaw, his gf , Mel, And some of their friends. We ate at the Korean Grill, which I had went to the night before with Joe. It's a place where you get to cook your own meat! I was tooooo happy! They just kept bringing us meat!!! Pork, beef, fish, chicken... An endless flow. Almost comparable to la Milsa with the added bonus that the grill is right there for you to use. Anyway, I stuffed myself, and went to the hotel early to prepare lecture 2.

Entered the hotel room, almost gave the Guy a heart attack. Studied. Woke up the Guy again. Used the bathroom, woke up guy for spite. Went to sleep. Woke the man up another two times, NO JOKE! and went on to give an awesome lecture. I got some props for my good work and then went to meet my Dad and my uncle who were in town that weekend.

Again, I ate like a king, this time at a friend of the family's. The food was so good... I almost cried. And for desert, some awesome cake. It was like... cofee cake, carrot cake, with chocolate and cream cheese icing... It was the jokes.

5 hour ride home... weekend's over... back to work!

Anyway, mad props to Joe and Pat and all the toronto honeyz for showing me such a good time in TO!

Catching the last metro EVER!

I hate mornings. I hate waking up, and taking the bus in various kinds of bad weather. But at very least, when I wake up, I can be entertained by the sheer stupidity of others.

I love watching people trying to catch a metro. I'm a pretty laid back (lazy) person. I refuse to run for a bus or a metro. They come to frequently to warrant such effort, especially during rush hour. But some people act as if the metro they are about to catch, is the last metro that will ever pass through this universe. They act like when the metro doors close, the entire station will be sealed off and then rapidly filled with nerve gas, peeling the flesh from their bones like a bad paint job off of a wet wall.

Have you ever seen someone leap down five stairs, knock over a bunch of old women and make a madcap dash for the metro, flailing arms and all? It's amazing how one psychopath can cause so much bedlam. There are people screaming and fainting as some lunatic plows through a throng of commuters like a broke ass football player. And what's the result? They almost skid right into the metro doors which have already closed. Then the metro takes off, and they realize that all of that foolishness was for nothing. Another metro is coming in 5 goddamn minutes. They make sure not to turn around so they don't have to see the wreckage they left in their wake and pray that no one is bold enough to confront them about being nearly knocked over.

Honorable Mention

Today, a colleague of mine (who incidentally is the jokes) informed me that Arab people are globally famous for their huge packages. "Why do you think they don't wear pants??? It's for comfort! It's like a pendulum down there! That's why they have so many wives. Cuz they are equipped to satisfy them all."

Now there are many stereotypes about black people. Stealing, violence... etc... And if you bring one of these up a black person may take offense. But I don't think any black guy has ever responded to the statement, "Hey, I hear you guys have huge penises!!" By saying, "That's just a stereotype, which may or may not be true! I take offense to that." No, more often we would respond with a self-satisfied nod, "Yes... Black people are well endowed. That's a scientific fact."

SCIENTIFIC FACT! Now this guy is telling me that Arabs hold the record? I take umbrage. And yet, what arguments could I present? There is no data establishing that blacks have the biggest package. That would involve a scientific experiment of a scope never seen before (I believe Joe would refer to this as "a good old fashionned cock-off). I'd have to get funding to get a sample group of some hundred people of varying ethnicities. Then have them line up in front of a table and have them unfurl their wangs. Then I'd have to pay someone to measure 100 penises! *Simon Bourque busts in with a ruler* "I'll do it for free!"

And what implications would this have on our society? Women would be in the clubs and have a choice between two men, one black and one white and quote my scientific paper "MMM.. according to the recent Nature article by Chris Gregg, Black people have coke bottle shlongs..." It would be pandamonium.

Until that dayI suppose Black people will enjoy the assumption that we have monolithic genetalia. All other races are free to battle it out for honorable mention.

A pore post

I don't know if I'm the only one, but dry air requires me to apply a layer of moisturizing lotion to my skin after showering in the morning or risk the whitenning of the skin that we black people call ashiness!

The problem is, living in a household with only women, when lotion is bought, sometimes little old me is forgotten and we can get some pretty feminine lotions. The result is I go to school smelling like lavender or strawberry's or some other damn thing.

The other morning I saw a new product. A short distance away I couldn't quite read the label but I feared the worst. "Just great!" I thought, "Another lotion that'll have me smelling like a sexy woman!" But this lotion didn't have a perfumed odor. It had something called "subtle skin reflectors". It was supposed to make my skin look somehow shinier. Even worse than smelling like a pansy! I couldn't go out into the world shimmering like Tinkerbell or some other form of mythical sprite. Or shining like C-3PO.... Or... some other metallic character like... Oh, I don't know... Robocop?

... Mmm... That's kind of cool.

I looked around to make sure no one was watching, and applied the lotion. Off to school I went, glistenning like (insert name of absurdly shiny thing here) Sure enough if I looked closely I could see little sparkling things on my skin. And sure enough, the hotties of montreal responded! "Wow, Chris! Your skin is irridescent like a perfectly cut diamond! I want you!!!"

This post was brought to you by Jergens Moisturizing lotion with Subtle Skin Reflectors. It's like a gangsta rapper's bling... for your pores!!!

Cabane a Jokes!

So, I thought Cabane a sucre was the jokes. It wasn't quite the ultimate posse cheese that I had thought. After all, we basically spent 20 dollars on breakfast and a horse ride in the rain. But what a breakfast it was! My cousin insisted we get our dollar's worth on maple syrop alone and did we ever.

Here's my cousin making good on his threat.


Here's Tony spiking the coffee! With Syrop! Please take note of the backhanded pouring.


Here's Pam with a bowlful of Bacon??? wTf???


At this point, my esophagus decided some of the meat had to go back the way it came.



Justin seems to be pleasuring this slab of ham.


Dave: "F**k it! I'm just going to eat this bacon right out of the bowl! I'm sick like that!"



Maeva: "Hello Breakfast!!!"


Vrej: "How about you and I discuss this later over a bottle of maple syrop? And your carcass!!!"


With adequate amounts of syrop, I could eat a horse!



I mean, in essence, it was just an expensive breakfast out in the boons! And there is something very disturbing about petting the animals we are about to douse in maple syrop and consume. But all in all, it was fun. Friends, family and food. All drenched in copious amounts of syrop. That's good!

Everyone's just full of jokes...

So this morning I walked into the lab and my colleague Tania informs me that she's pregnant. I didn't really react at first. I just looked up at her, then tried to find the right words to say. "Really? Wow... Incredible... Ummm... Congratulations?" At that she burst out laughing and told me it was some lame ass april fool's joke.

I'm getting senile in my old age. Yesterday the phone in the lab starts ringing. Lazy ass Jon, Viv and Tania don't answer it and actually complain, "The phone has been ringing all day." I walk all the way across the lab to answer. "Hello?" Someone sounding suspiciously like Homer simpson trying to be Mr. Burns answers.

Some Guy: "Hello??!?!?"
Me:"This is Dr. Titorenko's lab? Can I help you?"
Some Guy: "Dr. Titorenko's lab?!?"
Me: "Ummm... yes?"
Some Guy: "Really? Could you please check your fridge I think it's running away!!"
Me: "What the...?"

I look over my shoulder to see Jon Solomon laughing with a cell phone in his hand. The whole lab just erupted into laughter. Nice. That's the joke's jon. You get blog props.

As a final april fool's joke, after writing this, stupid blogger crashed and didn't save my post. So I had to rewrite it.

Give the public what it wants...

Simon, ask and you shall receive.

Today...

I got home today and decided to watch some TV knowing that eventually Scrubs would come on. I haven't watched TV in a while and I noticed a few things.

1) I hate commercials for the Apprentice. They're all the same. They try to describe one of the more contrived challenges on the show. Then, even worse, Donald Trump says something truly dull and irrelevant and they make it seem like he's just changed the world.

This week on the Apprentice, can the team sell their own organs on Wallstreet?!? AND the most shocking boardroom ever.

Donald: "I should really get my prostate examined...... You're fired...."

:-(

2) I hate Walmart commercials. I've been watching them for so long I never realized that they actually just show this smiley face destroying signs with numbers on them. So you see a price of 130$ then the smiley face does his finishing move on it, and it becomes, 127.43$. But, they aren't even correlating that with any product. What is their freaking point?

130$ is more than 127.43$. And that's a good deal regardless of the product or service being provided.

And finally 3) Scrubs was a rerun.