philomath or not

My plants jumped from the windowsill on Saturday.

Now, my office is mostly clean of the dirt. And they now rest upon my old desktop tower by the window.

And that he was born of a single unwed teen mother and had a hard time growing up and that I should go watch his movie.

Instead. I went to Wikipedia:

His mother was 18 when she became pregnant (so 19 easily when she gave birth), so she was an adult who made a choice, and her parents helped her raise their grandson. Her last name isMallette. His father is Jeremy Bieber, who is married, has two other children that live with him, and both Bieber men have had contact throughout the last 18 years.

While in school (only listed one is Jeanne Sauve Catholic School, and it ranks high within the provincial standards of education), hockey, soccer, and chess were his passions. He self taught himself piano, drums, guitar, and trumpet.

To self teach, you need access to an instrument for a long time. I ought to know. I listened to my younger sister teach herself piano by ear and repetition for three years when she was eight. Our mother has an apartment style upright in our home. When you have access to such an instrument you usually have a little extra dollar to work with. My first guitar cost my parents a few hundred dollars, and they also bought my sister one a few years later. Music isn’t a cheap passion (he says while trying to eBay for a violin).

When Scooter Braun found little Justin, his mother’s first reaction was to beg God for a Christan man and label to find him instead. Apparently Braun being Jewish was much more an issue for her than dragging herself up out of poverty by the talent of her son.

Luckily with Usher in the mix, and comforted by her church elders Mallette didn’t let faith stand in the way of Justin’s future.

Now, this may all sound like I’m hating on some kid … but really I’m hating on the machine.

Why does he have to have a made up sob story? He’s from a very well off area (I’m sorry, there is no ‘ghetto’ in Stratford. It’s the city of the arts, yes even the Ontario one), his mother wasn’t abandoned by some guy who knocked her up and had a support system (her parents, and if they hadn’t she could have reached out for social assistance in Ontario). Heck, Justin even knows and has a relationship with his father. That’s more than my first boyfriend (born a bastard to an unwed teen mother, he’s happily married as an adult now and has a Masters in Science. Where’s his multimillion dollar story for having two half siblings and a middle class family??) got from his biological father.

Really, I think this is a case of too much processed fame. Good on the kid for hitting the lottery. Fuck anyone who says that I have to admire a famous person simply for that.

When someone cures cancer, saves a drowning baby, or lifts a car off of a grandmother, I’ll give them their dues. I refuse to pander to the ego of an eighteen year old boy who can open his mouth and make sounds. Nor his shitty ignorant followers.

Ugh. What nonsense.

Pardon me, but Benedict Cumberbatch in his portrayal of Sherlock Holmes calls to me. He taught English at a monasteryfor his gap year, wasn’t that nifty of him? Martin Freeman of course, as you know internet, won BAFTA.

This is part of my process, it won’t be PC and it won’t be polite.

I was attacked. I was threatened.

I didn’t blink because Zim was right there with me.

He kept his calm as the man’s fist flew by my head, mere six inches from my face into solid metal.

He wanted us to fight back. He wanted a fight.

Over a quarter.

But this wasn’t about a quarter. It was about some fucking asshole. Some fucking asshole who doesn’t have anything to lose who wants to fuck up total strangers.

Some fucking asshole who doesn’t care if my face was six inches either way from his fist.

Some fucking asshole who probably stays in the shelter on the same block as my home.

Some fucking asshole who is housed, fed, and offered a chance by the same people he tries to fuck up because he’s got nothing better to do.

Some fucking piece of shit junkie motherfucking cuntbag whore of a shithead whom one day I’ll probably get the chance to stick a needle in and I swear to fuck if I am 100% it is him I’m going to take that needle and ram it so deep and twist because fuck him. Fuck him and I am not a better person when you come up and ruin my evening with violence for no reason other than you think you are a big shot.

I’ll not forget your face you motherfucker, but you might forget mine.

And that is why when I see you bumming change for the next hit of whatever you were or were not on tonight I’ll use the card I got from the very attractive young officer who patrols our neighborhood and identify you without hesitation. I’ll know its you.

You’re the sort that gives those with no fixed address a bad name.

There’s not enough words for how much I want you to fuck off and overdose. You’re not worth saving. You’re a black hole and fuck you.

Montreal is so very very sexy.

But I wouldn’t want to live here, otherwise it might lose it’s appeal.

fruzz asked: The pierogi dish in the doggie bowl. So awesome. ^_^

Why yes, yes it is.

Amleth’s poor choice of having a drink before going to pick up Flutter … pretty irresponsible.

Then again… calling at 9:30 for a walk home buddy for 10:20 is rather blargh too.