Michael Boyle — Page 512

I actually signed up

June 11, 2000 by Michael Boyle

for fuckedcompany.com – the dot-com deadpool the other week and managed to come fifth last week. I wish I had more information on which dumb dot-coms I’d picked were getting me the points. Was it Drkoop? Corel (and does it even count)?

I’ve been contemplating

June 11, 2000 by Michael Boyle

the famous old saying, “A journey of a thousand miles begin with the first step.” It seems particularly appropriate at moving time.

I haven’t listened

June 9, 2000 by Michael Boyle

to this Sloan album (smeared) in ages, and I was always uncomfortable with the pseudo-patriotism surrounding the band. I mean, I know they’re nice guys and talented and all, but I’d sort of let them slip from my radar. But this early album – it’s uneven, for sure, but songs like I am the Cancer and 500 Up are really really great power pop.

Two things happening

June 9, 2000 by Michael Boyle

this weekend.

I’m doing the bulk of my move. I’m doing the furniture and stuff with some friends next week, but this weekend I’m going to behave like a drone and shuttle all my books and the other contents of my apartment that can fit in my car over to the new place.
The St-Laurent Street Festival is on. In my neighbourhood, this is a big highlight. We marvel and feel superior that, twice each summer, they close down the main North-South street for about 10 blocks. For 4 days straight. So people can have fun. Really, it’s just a bunch of the local businesses selling junk off folding tables, and every bar and resto sets up on the street. Very much fun, and very “Montreal”. Today I bought socks (the street sale is also known as the socks and underwear sale) and two classic CDs – the Jayhawks first and Sloan’s first, Smeared. A classic of Canadian east coast pop that somehow I’d lost along the way. Oh, and I had a beer with a couple friends I bumped into and an oyster and a shot with some other friends I met.

Uh, maybe the law?

June 9, 2000 by Michael Boyle

I usually like Declan McCullagh, but this might be the biggest joke of a story I’ve read in ages. I mean, you might as well speculate that some kid named Michael Stewart bullied Judge Jackson when he was a kid, giving him an uncontrollable fear and hatred of anything known by the initials “MS”.