Jon Blair was a cartoonist at York U a few years ago. He published some incredibly excellent comics, in Mondo and Excalibur and other such places. I was looking for what he’s been doing lately but he doesn’t appear to have a very strong web presence. He has likely focused on film or acting or waitering or whatever he was majoring in when he was at Winters College.
Here’s the only comic of his that I’ve been able to find (here), from Sept 25, 2002:
I really like the style he used. This isn’t an example of his best work, but it’s still pretty good. He did a series where Aquaman stole his girlfriend; it was a classic. My favourite strip involved a monkey who was demoted to Monster Food at a factory and upon quitting talked to a crab in a doctor’s outfit who said “Oh, fa’ sho’!” We smoked a lot back then.
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Best Band Name Of 2005:
sunn o)))
The hyphens are like sound waves or something. It’s pretty chill, if you’re into that.
DNA analysis somehow showed that [Young Buck] wasn’t one of the guys who inflicted the stab wounds, and an analysis of the video showed that he’d actually been using a fork, not a knife.
I’m watching a scifi movie with my Dad and he’s intentionally narrating it like Mystery Science Theatre 3000. He complains if I don’t make witty comments with him. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I hated that show.
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That stupid Narnia rap thing on SNL was done (better) when Jorma and Akiva were doing the Lonely Island. While watching it, I did not crack even a single smile. It was not funny.
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I blame Natasha.
Severus Snape: You clearly do not scare easily. You want a man who is sharp, intellectual, cultured, and not too mushy. Get underneath his cool, sarcastic exterior and who knows what treasures you might find.
Who is your Harry Potter love match?
You scored as A Slave To BDSM. Admit it, you like being tied up and being told you’ve been very naughty. You like teasing your partner and making them squirm, and not letting them be able to do anything about it. Some people think what you do is sick and disgusting, but you know it’s all in good fun.
| A Slave To BDSM |
|
93% |
| Sex God |
|
85% |
| A Romantic |
|
73% |
| Virgin |
|
28% |
How are you in bed?
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My Veronica Mars downloads are being really slow, so I’m reading about avoiding tax on capital gains on the internet. Here are some good articles:
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Met with Shashi this morning to go to RHHS and have coffee with former music teacher. It was weird catching up with Mr. Henry, I kept expecting him to make some sort of sarcastic remark, but he was really nice the whole time.
We ran in our OAC creative writing teacher (who is not very much older than us and getting married soon) and our AP Calculus teacher (who is not very much older than us and comports himself much like I think a Yorkland rap star would comport himself), and both meetings were shorter than I would have liked. We saw Ms Conlin from behind and Mr Ross and Mr Eschle and Mr Pearce, who is quieter now. It was all rather odd, catching up with old teachers, on the same level now as many of them. None of our conversations turned out like I expected.
There were so many kids there that were, what, in grade 1 when we were first in high school? I felt really old walking down the halls past all these kids in their hip gold sashes and shoulder bags, but it also felt like if I showed up the next morning with a bunch of books I could just pick up where I left off. Although dear lord, why would I want to. People are less moronic in university, for the most part, and there are actually things to do in University Towns. We walked from the top of Richmond Hill to the bottom, and there were barely any shops, let alone entertainments aside from Bowling and Movie-going (which, I must concede, we did quite often back then).
For those who were wondering, the Yearbook Hat is still around. Of all the impressions we attempted to leave upon that room, what an awful tradition to leave behind.
Side note: Ms. Rowen was apparently relieved when I decided to go to Queen’s, because she never wanted me to go to film school. Really, guidance counsellors should be upfront about these things. Lord knows how many teenagers are entering such a barren field just to “pursue their dreams.” Take it from someone who never went to Ryerson: you kids won’t miss a thing.
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I’m back in Toronto and doing nothing. I was going to work on these three websites I’ve been planning, but instead I read about Elton John’s gay (civil) wedding and ate two bowls of Cap’n Crunch.
They were small bowls.
Shashi called me this afternoon to check out good ol’ RHHS tomorrow. Apparently Mr. Henry emailed her and was like, “RHHS Music welcomes you!” and so a small portion (three or four of whomever Shashi can contact) of the class of 2002 is getting together tomorrow to hang out with Mr. Henry and then go to Three Coins for a greasy breakfast.
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