"And i'm looking through the glass where the light bends At the cracks"
-We Will Become Silhouettes, The Postal Service

A new catchphrase, Tim Robbins-ing, Borat, scooter races, Boone’s, too much food, a feather boa, unflattering photos of everyone (and for whatever reason, tonnes of Dirk), and a barfing cat. That all sums up my annual trip to Ottawa.

I got to Ottawa after my 7am train on Friday (thank God I fell asleep at 630pm on Thursday) ready to hit up Azteca with Natalie and Kate. After much eating and discussing my dating adventures from Wednesday night, we parted ways until the meeting of Kate’s Fondue Club (which is something I’m not at liberty to discuss here since what happens at Fondue Club, stays at Fondue Club…. I mean… what Fondue Club?). After much damage to my wallet at the Rideau Centre of all places while having far too much fun in the bra department of The Bay, Nat and I ran into Dirk at the LCBO, which was appropriate to say the least. It featured a loud conversation about Kenyan prostitution at the cash register. After our LCBO reunion, we dropped Dirk off and went to Kate’s to ingest mass quantities of molten cheese. We also encountered Dirk’s 30-year-old doppelganger. It was uncanny to say the least.

We had invited Dirk back to “The Ranch”, the newly adopted nickname of Nat’s house, but Dirk opted out due to the meeting of a “lady.” Not ones to get in the way of a lady, a title which immediately suggested she may be more classy than we are (I began thinking about Dame Judy Dench. Now that’s a lady). Thus, it led me to coin the newest catchphrase in our lexicon of sayings, “Dirk, you’re such a catch.” Dirk loves it, as he should. It’s the “You’re friend Dirk is a babe” of late Aught-6. We headed out into the night alone to face the wonders of Nat’s house, including seeing a random deer on the side of the road. Living in Toronto, all I see on the side of the road are hobos. And Zanta.

And speaking of hobos, Kate informed me of a stabbing at the Hobo Jamboree under the overpass by the Rideau Centre. Not one to make light of crises in the hobo community, I can't help but wonder if said knife was a rusty one. McNeil, I know you were thinking the same thing....then again, are there any other kinds of hobo knives?

"But all the news reports recommended that I stay indoors "

I went on an animal round up at The Ranch to find the 1 dog and 5 cats. I was acquainted with new members of the fam: White Power Gwen and Mathilda, aka “Mother,” two kittens who came into being whilst I was in the Jap. I spied Milo the orange man-cat, Carly the fluffy bitch queen, and the bathroom cat McBarfy (real name: Sarah). I walked into the bathroom to pet the cat and heard Nat say, “Don’t touch her. She barfs.” I continued to pet her because she was fluffy and pretty- although full of unexplained lumps which is never a good sign (tell Mallory to brush her cat)- when lo and behold, she started dry heaving. I couldn’t stop laughing. She sounded just like Bea Arthur. But more feminine.
Saturday revolved around watching 4 solid hours of Much Music programming encompassing So You Think You Can Dance, Goldmember, and yes, even Much Vibe. But we needed to gather our strength for the evening of Saigon’s delicious Vietnamese food, Borat, and Zaphods. Nat, Kate, Dirk and I all met at Zaphods where some instances of the conversation had to be toned down when it was discovered that there was a 12-year-old child seated at the table behind us. Then it was off to Borat.

"I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water, And pictures of you and i'm not coming out, Until this is all over "

Borat was only showing at the Coliseum in Ottawa so we had to make the trip out to Carling, and wait in massive lines. The film was playing in 3 theatres simultaneously, and not finding any good seats in our assigned theatre, I literally ran into the one next door to score us prime seats. I’m sure the people who legitimately paid for said seats had to sit on the floor, but that’s hardly a concern of mine. Dirk had no real concept of what Borat was, being in Africa and all (ok, not really a legitimate excuse for Dirk, but we’ll let it slide). Needless to say it was inappropriately hilarious and offensive. I can’t think for a time when I laughed more. It also spawned “retarded brother” jokes for the rest of the weekend.

On our way to Kate’s for pre-drinking after a delightful call to Loewenstein, we drove by 2 old men racing their motorized scooters on the road. Not one to pass up an oppourtunity, I had handed Dirk my camera in under 15 seconds and he snapped a picture. Now, it doesn’t so much matter that the picture didn’t turn out, but the sheer fact that through fits of uncontrollable laughter at the sight of scooter racing, we were able to actually take a picture of something, resulting in high fives. Of course, we probably gave the old men a seizure or blinded them with the flash of the camera in the dark. "And i'm screaming at the top of my lungs pretending ,The echoes belong to someone, Someone i used to know "

After I drank an entire bottle of Boone’s myself in an hour (Orange Pineapple) and Dirk was introduced to his new BFF Simon Kate’s adoptive cat (who only drinks water out of a glass, like a true gent), we had to wait in line at Zaphods until they let us in, where we then proceeded to drink more booze included the coveted quarts of 50 while giving out random Tim Robbins to the DJ, mostly. But that’s what he deserved after playing Justin Timberlake. There had been some sort of private party so all these old people in suits, and even a man or two in a tux were in the crowd- not your usual mix at all so there was no real need for shoving. Of course, that didn’t stop me from shoving the lesbians who deserved it, or the shoving Nat gave to obnoxious dude. It did provide us with a feather boa we rescued from the floor and proceeded to wrap around ourselves. It should also be noted that between Kate, Nat, and myself, we had some various forms of Pepcid AC, Pepto Bismol, and other stomach-ailment meds which goes to show you that I may have lost all confidence in my stomach after this year's drinking fiascoes. It's times like these that I wonder whether or not I appear to be an alcoholic to onlookers, passersby, and casual acquaintances. Then again, I usually just have to glance at the company I keep and am reassured that we're not drunks. We're just fond of the drink. And since when have I cared what the norms think.
The dancing was crazy as usual and I almost fell while dancing of Dirk, an incident reminiscent of our falling down at the Dance Cave although not so drunkly hardcore. It was also of note that we were not dripped on my the Barefax pipes. No, I don’t believe they have fixed it or have become concerned with health codes, I just think we were on the right end of the dance floor. It was Kate’s first night at Zaphods and she handled it well, although abandoned us briefly while Nat and Dirk laid down on the stage. Realizing we were all far too hot and sweaty and the music had turned, it was time to head out as the lights came on to grab some poutine from the infamous poutine shack next door, which included Dirk and I eating pickles out of the pickle dispenser. We were also witness to this crazy street fight where dudes actually got out of cars and there was a swarming of dudes. The police showed up 10 minutes after the fact and we continued to wait in line for poutine observing the entire scuffle, drunk dialling Mairin and Angus (Shane, we were going to call you but decided that Dirk may get thrown in jail for making long distance calls to Egypt on the government dime).
"I wanted to walk through the empty streets, And feel something constant under my feet"

Sunday provided Nat and I with more shopping and Eggs Benedict after crashing at Kate’s house. After more ruckus with various cats, we pulled into the train station just as my train was pulling in. So much for Via Rail always being late.

Even though it snowed overnight, a frightening thought that makes me realize that I’ll have to break out my winter coat sooner or later (or later since it’s a balmy 14 degrees in S. Ontario today), I’ll be back to do it up in style in January, and am waiting for Dirk to come crash with me in 2 weeks and for Nat post New Years. Being in Ottawa does bring back fond memories of the good times at Zaphods and Zak’s, but at the same time, I am only reminded of winter and Martin Landau.

Top 5 Zaphods Tunes of Saturday:

Reptilia- The Strokes
Deceptacon- Le Tigre
London Calling- The Clash
Don’t feel Like Dancin'- Scissor Sisters
Rebellion (Lies)- Arcade Fire

"And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go "