Random Madness

Hold still. I’ve never done this before, and there will be blood.


It’s funny how some blog posts are born. This one was originally conceived after a night of sampling 3 different types of whiskey, killing galactic invaders with my bros and then watching some piss-your-pants funny stand up comedy. So as I came stumbling through the door in the wee hours of the morning of course I thought it was a brilliant idea to jot down what was in my head at the time. I know what you’re thinking. It would make SO much sense to write about alcohol, LAN games or funny ass comedians right? Certainly not! Ian’s brain doesn’t work like that. My mind is like an episode of Family Guy wrapped in Seinfeld with an Adventure Time sugary coating on top and a nuggety center of South Park. I never know where my writing will take me. Sometimes it stays on track. Sometimes I drive it right off the fucking cliff. Anyway as I sat there doing my best Nick Nolte impression and scarfing down homemade pizza bombs I began to write. About what you ask?

Tattoos.

Yes ladies and gentlemen of the jury. I said tattoos.

Saw that one coming a mile away, eh?

In all honesty I’ve been wanting to write something about tattoos for a very long time. Just never got around to fleshing it out. That all changed when my spastic flatulent brain decided to explode a bunch of words on my computer. After sipping some Breakfast Blend Starbucks coffee and rocking out to (ironically) Shame in You by Alice in Chains I managed to sort through the dyslexia and salvage an actual post.

A big topic of discussion in our household tends to circle around ink. A lot of people automatically assume that because I have such an eccentric personality and have the ability to draw some freaky shit that I have tattoos or at the very least have entertained the possibility of getting some. No. I do not have any tattoos. I have scars. That’s pretty much all the body art I’m rocking. I’ve thought about designing something wicked to slap on my skin but it’s never really gone much further than that. I’m more interested in the design rather than having that design on me. Regardless if I ever do end up getting something I’m the “go big or go home” type of person. It’ll be one of those awe-inspiring pieces of artwork that people will be like “woah” when they see it. Until the vision hits me though, it’ll remain just a fleeting thought in the back of my head.

I’ve done a lot of pieces for people over the years. Like I said, I’m a freaky fantasy graphic artist so naturally people come to me with tattoo ideas. I dig drawing tattoos. They always want something unique and that’s my trademark. Course my services come with the disclaimer that my dictionary doesn’t contain the word simple. You ask me to draw something to put on your body you’d damn well better be ready to feel some pain. Prime example, a little something I did for my buddy Nik.

Angel vs Demon

Several months ago my wife got a lip ring. Stop it you dirty freaks, not that kind of lip ring. Her mouth. She’s no stranger to piercings. Her ears look like they were shot up with a micro Tommy Gun. She has more earrings than I can count. She also has a nose piercing as well so when I heard she got a lip ring it really wasn’t that much of a shock. I asked her what was her motivation was and she said something along the lines of “I just wanted to do it”.

Now she wants to get a tattoo.

For the record, I really don’t care what another person does with their body. Anyone who tries to contest a person’s right to do whatever they want to their body is simply a douche. I can’t stand people who criticize or judge someone based on their body art. It’s what they want, it’s their body so piss off and mind your own business. Despite all the material possessions one may claim to have in life, the truth is your body is the only thing that is absolutely your own. You have the right to do whatever the hell you want to it.

So what’s my beef with tattoos?

I think my perceived dislike is a gross misconception. I don’t hate tattoos. I just dislike them on women. That’s just my personal preference. I don’t think any less of ladies with body art. I just find chicks more attractive without them. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. I am in awe of the female body. It’s a work of art. It’s something that’s as close to perfection as you can get. It doesn’t matter if you’re short or tall, plump or skinny, shredded or curvy – the female form is simply remarkable. It always slays me when ladies bitch and moan about their bodies. You have no idea how good ya’ll got it going on. You were built to look good. Dudes? We’re just the Jeeps of the human race. Pure functionality and no form. I see tattoos on women as defiling a work of art. I wouldn’t go up to The Burial of St. Lucy draw a butterfly on it.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not criticizing anyone who gets tattoos. I think tattoo art is probably the most captivating form of artwork out there. The amount of skill and detail tattoo artists employ is mindboggling. I envy their talent. I also absolutely understand that getting inked (for most people) isn’t a spontaneous thing. There is thought, planning and sentimental value to each piece. If you feel so deeply about something that you’ll put it on your body that’s deep. How can a person not respect that on so many levels?

What can I say?

I like women.

I like women’s bodies.

I don’t think there’s anything a lady can do to her body to improve upon it. Sure you can work out, put makeup, get all dolled up and what not but in my mind’s eye I dig chicks for the hands they were dealt. Like it or not. An opinion is just that.

An opinion.

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I’m Versatile?


So as I was tooling around doing anything and everything non-blog related and I happened upon one of my less frequently checked email addresses. You know that address you usually sign up for everything with? Yeah. That one. I usually only log in once a week at best to clean up clutter but this time I’d been so incredibly caught up with the world around me that I neglected it for nearly two weeks.

After sifting through the multitude of WordPress messages threatening me to moderate my comments I came across an email from a blogger I haven’t spoken with in a fortnight. It was Dragonfae over at Among the Crystals, Dragons and Fae. She inquired about my well-being and politely informed me that I had been tagged in one of her posts.  An overwhelming amount of guilt washed over me at that very moment. Her blog used to be a regular read for me. She’s a kindred soul and we share the same humble beginnings in the blogging world. We both just wanted to put what was on our minds somewhere where people could see. Unfortunately a recent spike in my life outside of the Matrix caused me to neglect not only my blog, but hers and about a dozen other people I stalk– err… follow.

I’ve neglected my mistress of random unconventional observations  over at Fix it or Deal

I’ve forsaken the twisted writing of the force known as the Blurt

I’ve let the eloquently written tales from Herding Cats in Hammond River pass me by…

I’ve missed out on my little Thoughtsy growing up…

I’ve even been oblivious to the real-life joys, trials and tribulations of my dear lady Thypolar

I could go on forever but you get my point. Needless to say when she said she mentioned me in a post I was expecting to be burned at the virtual stake for blogging heresy.

Quite the contrary.

Instead of raking me across the coals for being an unfaithful blend I was actually christened with a bloggy award. In fact I was given the prestigious Versatile Blogger Award. I’d seen it around for quite a long time now but never expected it to grace my wall.  I thought about it for a bit. I wondered, do I truly deserve an award like this? A guy who hasn’t written a real post in weeks? A blog that often reads like a sociopath’s diary?

But then I realized where else can you get a recipe for Peanut Butter Muffins, look at custom illustrations ranging from serial killers to faeries, read movie reviews and indulge in random rants from religion to noisy neighbors. If that’s not versatile I dunno what is. So on behalf of myself and all the other voices that reside in my head, we thank you for the recognition.

Now on to my award duties. As a stipulation for accepting this I must:

  • Post a link to the Versatile Blogger who gave you the award. [DONE]
  • Share seven things about yourself that are not widely known.
  • Nominate at least five other bloggers.

Since I’ve praised my dear Dragonfae already I’ll just move on to the seven things not widely known about me. That’s kinda tricky. I’m sure I’ve had to do this for another award so I don’t know what I’ve said already or not.

Damn the voices..

  1. I used to have long hair. Well not 80’s rocker length or anything but long enough to have a Cholo ponytail. Yeah. Me with a ponytail. Drink that image in.
  2. Since we’re talking about hair not many know I used to have a flat top. Yup. I’m talking a sneeze under Kid ‘n Play height folks.
  3. A decade ago I couldn’t cook to save my life. Yup. I could burn water back then. Now I have people who can cook their asses complimenting me on dishes I’ve cranked out. Go figure.
  4. I’m deathly afraid of heights yet I have an insatiable desire to sky dive. I know. Paradox, right? I dunno what it is but I’ve dreamt about that since I was little.
  5. I tried to be a NYPD officer. Yup. Took the written exam when I was a teenager and everything. Course I took the Psych exam and got put on List B. They never call List B back apparently. I suppose that it turned out for the best. Can you imagine me as a cop?
  6. I lived in New York City for the greater part of my life and have never been to Coney Island. Is that wrong of me?
  7. I’ve never had a driver’s license but I can driver standard and automatic.

So now that I’ve divulged even more about myself that I probably shouldn’t have, time to nominate some peoples. Rather than double (and sometimes triple) award people I’m hopefully going to present these to first timers…

Rejoice and bask in the glory of being nominated by the Worlds Laziest Blogger!


Speak No Evil


After a long deliberation period that has taken the better part of this decade I have decided that I’m going to phase out speaking to people.

Why take such a dramatic course of action one might ask?

Well it’s not a decision that I prefer, just to set the record straight. 9 times out of 10 I’ll express something perfectly clear only to have it met with a “huh” or “pardon”. At first I thought it was just individuals questioning my responses but over time I’ve found that people just seem to have a problem just understanding me period.

It’s as though I speak with a mouthful of rocks or something. It’s very gut-wrenching when you reply to something and get that lovely smile and the “I have no fucking idea what you just said but I’ll nod in agreement anyway” look. I don’t mumble and I’m quite certain my speech isn’t impaired (at least when I’m not drunk) therefore I find myself grasping at what it could be.

There are many factors that could be the cause. I have a New York accent that even after a decade away from the Big Apple I have yet to shake. Not that I want to mind you. I’m actually quite proud of my vernacular. It’s distinct enough to be easily detected yet I can actually say talk and coffee.

I also stutter occasionally, stammer more than I’d like and often get caught up searching for the right word. I’m frighteningly sarcastic but the wiring between my brain and mouth must have been done by a blind chimp because I struggle to convey even the most basic things sometimes. I don’t sound like a clod all the time though. Heck some people have actually deemed my particular brand of oratorical dumb-fuckery as being “very cool” or “really mellow”.

For me however, I’ve just grown very weary of everyone not understanding what I have to say. My mouth apparently can’t keep up with my brain therefore I am abandoning speech and sticking solely to writing from now on.Writing makes me appear smarter and wittier than spoken words could ever accomplish. Besides it’s easier to appear intelligent when you don’t have to open your mouth. I can edit what I have to say, Google things I’m not 100% sure about and correct my flubs with the wonderful power of a spell check.

I can be the intellectual I want everyone to think I am.

I’ll eventually slap a text-to-speech app on my computer so that those who still wish to talk to me can have a true Stephen Hawking-like experience. Now if you think this concept is a little off the wall, wacky or just plain weird think about it next time you’re Tweeting or chit chatting with someone on Facebook. How well do you really know a person if you haven’t physically spoken to them? They could be a Professional Dumbass just like me.

This message has been brought to you by the Foundation for Old School Friendships.

“They’re not a friend unless you’ve had dinner at their house or they at yours”

(If you think I’m a fool now, listen to this)


Back from the dead…


Sadly this post has nothing to do with zombies (Sorry Amy).

I’ve been away from the blogging scene for quite a while now. I had checked out mentally months ago when we found out we won two free tickets to Ottawa and arranged to head down in mid August. Combined with the stress of dealing with my usual clients, working 25+ shifts at the animal shelter and making the rounds as Iqaluit’s newest social bee I quite literally had no desire to blog.

That’s all changed now that I’m sitting on a nice breezy balcony watching the a few willowy cotton ball clouds slowly float across the tree line. Trees! I forgot how much I missed them until I got back here. People take them for granted. I can’t say I’ve actually been longing to see them but it’s kinda one of those things you really don’t pay any mind to till it dawns on you. While Iqaluit has many breathtaking sights and sounds nothing quite beats watching the rhythmic sway of trees as their vibrant green leaves rustle like pom poms in the wind. It’s therapeutic… especially after the past month I’ve had.

I’m not a big “we gotta do something while on vacation” sorta guy. I hate planning. I’m all about let whatever happen just happen. We spend so much time plotting and planning in our everyday lives why would you want to do that on your time off? I didn’t plan on blogging today. Hell the biggest thing on my agenda for the day is sorting out what to have for dinner later. I’m blogging because for the first time in months I’ve felt like it. Didn’t feel obligated. Didn’t feel pressured into it. Just felt like running my mouth. Unfortunately, yet again, I’ve neglected blends and blikes in my absence. I apologize for that. I’ll probably play catch up eventually.

So what have I been up to?

I got set up with the Twitter a couple of months ago. The jury is still out on that. Can’t say I’m a fan of it but I have been using it more than I thought I ever would. Interesting depot for dumping random thought and anyone who knows me well knows I have plenty of those. I still find it to be an incredibly clunky way of communicating but there’s no denying how quickly news spreads (if you can sort through the tweetspeak gibberish). Cheers to all of you twits out there who actually try to use proper grammar. It’s a seemingly lost art form so thanks for keeping it alive.

Let’s see what else… oh yeah I shut down a puppy rescue and made women cry. It wasn’t my intention, mind you. Seriously. I like animals more than I like most people. Everyone knows that. Unfortunately I started working at the shelter at the wrong time and I have a mouth like a bear trap. I know I mentioned a while back that I needed to start offsetting my goody-two-shoes deeds as of late but I never saw this bit of potential infamy on the radar.

Those who have kept up with the Nunavut blog know I’ve been doing quite a bit of volunteering at the Iqaluit Humane Society. For those who don’t know the back story in a nutshell its Nunavut’s first and only animal rescue shelter. To put that into perspective crack open Google maps or a look at a globe and see the area the territory of Nunavut covers. That’s a huge claim to fame. It’s been around for over 5 years now and has rescued the lives of more than 1200 unwanted, abandoned or abused pets in that span. It’s a pretty remarkable feat considering it’s a non government-funded, not for profit organization run entirely on volunteer manpower. They’ve always teetered on the edge of collapse because of this but always managed to pull through.

That was until Big Bad Ian came along.

When I burst onto the scene my wife and I discussed getting involved with some of the volunteer efforts up here. Coming off the heels of the Mighty Rolf Rescue we made right before coming up here, it seemed like a natural fit for me to help out at the shelter. As a new jack with fresh energy I came into the organization with high expectations and a bevy of ideas. The IHS had a potential for greatness but the fact it seemed mired in its own inability to move forward irked me. The deck was stacked against the society in more ways than one. The city and territorial legislation provide no protection for canines, there’s an overwhelming lack of public knowledge regarding responsible animal care, the volunteer pool was insufficient, the dog population is on a steady unwavering rise, and even our own bylaws were flawed. There was no way the shelter could keep up with the ever-increasing demand for services because it was not geared towards sustainability. It was kind-hearted volunteers and a super dedicated board of directors pouring their hearts and souls into a bottomless well.

I ended up donating web space and a domain name to them so that I could construct a website for the shelter. I felt in my heart that they weren’t taking advantage of the vast pool of support out there by not having an online presence. Months later, after establishing a website, a somewhat successful Facebook page and a Twitter account I thought we were on track to break that elusive threshold of public anonymity. Volunteer contribution was hitting rock bottom due to the transient population so I committed to an obscene amount of hours working there in an effort to push the organization over the hump. I couldn’t remain silent about the factors that were working against us though. My intention was to push the society to change with the times and grow along side the city.

The society ended up having to face the sobering reality of the situation at hand. I, along with several other core volunteers, were slated to leave on holiday around the same time and the shelter literally didn’t have the people to come in and do what it takes to keep that place up and running. We needed to restructure our gameplan and treat this operation like a legitimate business instead of just a volunteer effort. It was unfair to the territory, city, community, animals and even ourselves if we couldn’t provide the kind of consistent care needed therefore the board decided to shut down operations on August 9th.

While the prospect of restructuring was welcomed with open arms by all the volunteers we joked openly amongst ourselves how “Ian killed the shelter”. I felt kinda wretched at first. I put on a happy face and played up the “lighting a fire under us” aspect but deep down I was stressed out beyond belief. While we were thankfully able to get our current shelter residents shipped out to responsible and caring no-kill rescue shelters in the south, every day we remained closed meant a disturbing amount of dogs were going to be put down. You see as I mentioned before, Nunavut is the only province or territory in Canada where animals aren’t protected by the law.  In a city where the stray dog population is disturbingly high and majority are put down in the local landfill it makes having a humane society a vital resource. One that I aided in getting shut down. I was of the Spock mindset that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few… or the one. I felt that the sooner we could get our shit together the more we could save and continue to save unhindered.

Easy to say but hard to deal with the consequences.

Thankfully our ridiculously cool mayor heard of the closing and brought the IHS before the city council the same day we officially closed. We pleaded our case for having a better facility, actual staff members, funding and training. They acknowledged us as a vital city resource and pledged to help us however they can by establishing a work group to coordinate with us on all of our points of interest. We, as a society, decided to revisit our own way of operating and have begun reconstructing from the ground up forming committees to handle the many aspects of running the society. Since the time we closed there has been an unprecedented amount of media and community interest, the latest being a news broadcast about our plight.

We have roughly 3 months to get our plan into relaunch squared away otherwise we will remain closed. That’s a helluva burden I feel weighing on my back every single day – even while on vacation. Some of my pit crew chums (that’s what we call the dedicated guys and gals who bust their humps walking, feeding and cleaning up after the pups every single day) tried to thank me for pushing so hard to make these changes happen. Only time is going to tell if my being a unyielding pain in the ass is going to be for the good. If the shelter ends up reopening and becomes the self-sustainable city resource I know it can be, then I’ll be happy to have done my part for making it happen. If not then I could possibly be the one of the most hated people in the city.

Nothing like a bit of pressure, eh?

I’ve never done anything for the society with the intention of receiving praise or accolades. I could care less about that. I love animals. I love people who love animals. It honestly just tears me up inside knowing what happens to these creatures on a daily basis. I just want them to be cared for and given the fair shake any animal down south is allotted. We can’t do that if we can’t dig our heels in and be the institution we need to be. The first and only animal rescue shelter in Nunavut. That’s a lot of responsibility. We’re in the public’s eye more than ever now and have the means and opportunity to push forward like never before. It’s just matter of getting that monstrous ball rolling down the hill.

I always say it’s always better to do something and risk failure than to do nothing and guarantee it.

Time for a shot of Maple whiskey. 😉

Love, peace and hair grease peeps.