Jim

A few videos for everyone to share in:





EDIT:
And one more for good measure:

So, we got some new salads at work the other day. Some woman came in and read off its label to me "204 grams. Hm. Do you know what the conversion is grams to cups?"

Me: "Uhm. I can tell you that 204 grams is a little less than half a pound, but grams and cups aren't measuring the same thing, so you can't just--"

Her: (In a "You're a complete idiot" tone) "Oh no, there is a fixed conversion rate from grams to cups. You can find it online."

Me: "Well... for water, yes. Or any specific substance. But--"

Her: "Excuse me, I have to do some math."

She then turned her body away from me and stared intensely at the label for about 3 minutes before putting it back and buying a coffee.

GRAMS MEASURE MASS. CUPS MEASURE VOLUME. WITHOUT KNOWING THE SPECIFIC DENSITY OF THE SUBSTANCE THEN YOU CANNOT CONVERT BETWEEN THEM! THIS IS GRADE 10 SCIENCE HERE, PEOPLE!

From our friends at WikiAnswers:
--
Here are A FEW COMMON FOODS and their conversion from cups to grams (notice how much the weight varies!):

Granulated sugar: 1 cup = 200 grams
Brown sugar: 1 cup, packed = 220 grams
Sifted white flour: 1 cup = 125 grams
White rice, uncooked: 1 cup = 185 grams
White rice, cooked: 1 cup = 175 grams
Butter: 1 cup = 227 grams
Almonds, slivered: 1 cup = 108 grams
Oil: 1 cup = 224 grams
Maple syrup: 1 cup = 322 grams
Milk, non-fat: 1 cup = 245 grams
Milk, sweetened condensed: 306 grams
Broccoli, flowerets: 1 cup = 71 grams
Raisins: 1 cup, packed = 165 grams
Milk, dry: 1 cup = 68 grams
Yogurt: 1 cup = 245 grams
Water: 1 cup = 236 grams
Confectioners sugar: 1 C = 110 g
Cocoa: 1 C = 125 g
--

Notice there is no entry for salad, because different salads have different ratios of things, and therefore different densities! Yargh!!

Sorry, I've been bottling that inside for about 22 hours now, and I was bound to blow. You may now carry on with your lives.

Suitably enough, when I was a child, the stuffed animal that you couldn't get away from me was my Grumpy Bear.

Which Care Bear Are You?
Grumpy Bear You a Grumpy Bear! You show that it's okay to be grumpy sometimes! You show people who funny they seem when they act unhappy. You are loving, and grouchy, but perseverant.You can be accident prone and things never seem to go your way sometimes. You show that even when you are grumpy, you are always loved!
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

What does your drawing say about YOU?

Mine said:

You tend to pursue many different activities simultaneously. When misfortune does happen, it doesn't actually dishearten you all that much.
You are a thoughtful and cautious person. You like to think about your method, seeking to pursue your goal in the most effective way.
You like following the rules and being objective. You are precise and meticulous, and like to evaluate decisions before making them.
You have a sunny, cheerful disposition.

That's right. Me. I am a professional actor. I've been cast in the Touring Players' show Charlotte's Web. The Touring Players are a professional children's theatre company that travel all over Canada. I've been cast in Charlotte's Web, I'm guessing as Wilbur, because they had me read that role about 10 times at the callback, and didn't have me read the other male character at all.

Needless to say, I'm pretty psyched. I start rehearsals a week from today in Orillia. Huzzah!

(Interested in learning more about the Touring Players? Do so here.)

Current Mood: Pretty fuckin' psyched!
Current Music: Nothing on Me, by Jill Barber

See title of this journal entry for pertinent information.


EDIT: Oh, and if women are worried about their health, read this article and then call me.

So, apparently, I'm a horrible person:

Dear Santa... Dear Santa, This year I've been busy! Last Tuesday six_dick_pimp and I robbed a bank (-50 points). In August I ruled Iran as a cruel and heartless dictator (-700 points). Last Thursday I committed genocide... Sorry about that, nebulauren (-5000 points). Last week I got in line at the supermarket at the same time as someone else and I didn't yield (-8 points). In September I pulled bluestknight's hair (-5 points). Overall, I've been naughty (-5763 points). For Christmas I deserve a lump of coal! Sincerely, jiminwindsor

So, last night at a bar, some drunk friends and I (well, mostly them, not so much me) got the bright idea in our heads that we should call this guy "Mike" whose name was written on the bathroom wall saying he likes to swallow cum. We figured that the guy probably had his name written up there by his buddies, and would probably be a little annoyed, but what the hey, it wasn't even 10 yet.

To our surprise, the guy was very amused by us, and proceeded to freestyle rap with whoever was on the phone with him at the time, though mostly all he said was that he got hoes in different area codes. We tried to press him on which area codes, but he just kept repeating that he got hoes.

Eventually, after about 45 minutes of the phone being passed around and all goofing around aside, it turned out that the gentleman actually lived a very sad and lonely life and genuinely wanted some people to call him and take him up on his offer. We all ended up apologizing profusely that we weren't gay and sorry for botherring him. He did not sound, at all, like he might have just been messing with us. It turned out kind of depressing. He seemed like a good guy, and I hope he finds someone soon, though I think writing your number on the mens washroom is probably a bad way to go about it.

Sorry, Mike.

As far as difficulties facing Canadian Troops go, I try not to make fun, but this is begging to have a comment or two made...

I'm in Ottawa.

That is all.

My location at work yesterday was a senior citizens home. (That's just where people had rented a lunch room, I'm not feeding the seniors). On the menu was several things that had to split my focus. I was cooking up the perogies on location in a frying pan, and at the other end of the line, I had to carve some flank steak for people as they came through the line. Everything was perfect, they gave me too few tables, but I improvised, and had the whole setup up perfectly. The first batch of the perogies came out perfectly. I put the second half in the frying pan just as people were coming up to the line, and I ran down to do some carving. This small batch of people would probably last just as long, I figured, to carve steak for as the perogies would take to cook. The line got bigger, though, and I forgot about the perogies. Then a loud beeping starts happenning. It's another minute before I realized that it's because I burned the perogies. Hardly any smoke is coming off of them, but the stupid retirement home's sensors are set to the maximum sensitivity. I grab the pan, and run for the exit, which is a long trek away, figuring get the smoke out of the building. Adrenaline was going, so I didn't even notice that I was burning my hand. I venture past a whole lot of angry-to-be-disturbed senior citizens milling around the way out, all giving me accusing looks and mutterring to each other "that's the one who set off the alarm, I bet." I drop the pan outside just in time to see about 5 fire trucks pulling up. I still have hungry people to serve, though, so I go back to the lunch room, stopping to tell the Locations Manager of the commercial I'm feeding what happenned. I get back to the lunch room, and of course there's a line waiting for steak. I start quickly carving everyone a piece, when someone comes up to me and says the fire trucks need me to move my van, so I have to make the walk of shame past the angry senior citizens again. And then again returning. The word in the lunch room was not good. The firetrucks cost money when they're called down for no good reason. I heard people say it's as low as 300 a truck, and other's saying it's as high as 1000. The old folks home wants the commercial to pay for it. The commercial wants ByDavid's to pay for it. So, I'm basically REALLY not looking forward to calling in work tomorrow morning to find out when I work. Fortunately, it looks like I'm probably not working tomorrow, so I'm going to take that opportunity to look for a new job. Hopefully, needing one is still my choice, not something thrust upon me.

:s

Current Mood: numb
Current Music: Maybe You're Right, by the Barenaked Ladies.

So, yesterday afternoon I went out to my car to find that I'd left the passenger side window open the night before. Living in downtown Toronto, this is never a good thing. The spare change on my dash was gone, mayber 50 cents altogether, and some papers that I had in the care had clearly been searched for hidden money in them, and left on the driver's seat. Just as well, I figured, got rid of that spare bunch of pennies, nickels, and times that make an annoying sound as they vibrate on the dash as the car drives. It was, however, very creepy the first few minutes driving the car knowing that someone random had been in there, who knows how recently, and had gone through my pictures of Kris that I keep in there. For the most part, though, I'm thinking "got out of that one scot free."

When I was on my way home from where I was going that evening, though, I suddenly rememberred that my MP3 player was in the car. It was no longer on the passenger side seat, as I then recalled it being. It had, however, been some days since I noticed it, so I thought maybe I put it in my new place when I moved all sorts of other worldly possessions out of the car a few days earlier. So I hurry back to my apartment, which is a complete sty of unpacked stuff, and I can't find it, but in the sty, how much can that really mean.

A few hours go by, and it is now 10 at night, and I'm convinced it's not in the apartment. I for some reason talk myself into checking the car again, even though every bit of me is convinced that if it was in the car when whoever got in there was there, then it is gone. However, I go back, and to my surprise, hooray! My MP3 player is in some wierd crevace between the seat and the door. Whoever snuck in must have been in a hurry.

I notice on my way back from where I've parked (a few streets away) that in all my worry over my MP3 player, I've forgotten to eat most of the day, and I'm famished. Along my route was this place "Hero Signature Burger," which I found about a week ago has really awesome burgers. As I start into the place, this woman in her late 30s, maybe early 40s, stops me. She asks if I work there, I say no. She asks if I'm planning on eating there, I say yes. She wants to know if she can get my order and then sell it to me. What?

It seems that this lady has travelled accross town to get money from this guy who works there who owes her a lot of money. She was counting on that money to get her home. The guy didn't have the money, but said that he gets a free meal every shift, and offerred to give it to her as a sort of down-payment. She told him that she was meeting a friend who would probably want the meal, which she decided she'd find someone to sell it to to get her bus fare home. She's telling me all this super secretively, and in a very cloak and dagger style, like "we have to keep this secret, this is just between us, yada yada yada."

This all strikes me as very wierd, but I go along with it, and end up waiting for this meal with her for about 20 minutes, outside of the Hero Burger, as the paying customer's meals I guess got priority or something. While we wait, we talk, and I suddenly started getting this wierd vibe. Sure enough, this late-30s, early-40sish woman was hitting on me. Over the course of our conversation, she goes out of her way to mention that she's single, tries to get my phone number, mentions loving sex, and, oh yes, referred to me as "yummy" and that she could just "bite right into me." She also, after finding out that I lived in this area, mentionned that she was moving to this area soon, and wanted me to know that I'm invited up to her place any time.

While it's flatterring to be hit on, I feel like I suddenlly know what women are talking about when they feel harrassed by creepy old men. I still plan to become one when I'm old, but now I think I'll understand what my prey are going through when I do this.

I was torn. On the one hand, this was really creepy and I wanted to go. On the other hand, I felt bad for her that she needed this money to get home. Also on this other hand, I was hungry and wanted my hero burger. Eventually, her friend from the kitchen there brought out my burger, and I was free to go.

I left the area very creeped out, and overpaying for an order that is not quite what I asked for. As I left, she called after me "same time next week!" Remind me to leave the neighbourhood next Saturday at 1030 in the evening, or at least stay away from Hero Signature Burgers on that day.

And that was my wierd, creepy Saturday evening tale.

Oh, and for something completely different, I haven't written up here about the results of my call back. I held off on writing about it out of hope. See, they said they'd call me either way, but they haven't called yet, even though it's been 2 weeks. One of the two shows I know has already started rehearsing. So, I'm pretty sure I didn't get it, even though I never received a call. I'm kind of dissapointed in the guy, because he seemed so nice, I don't see why he'd lie about that. Too bad.

Current Location: The spot in my apartment with wireless
Current Mood: mellow
Current Music: Nothing On Me, by Jill Barber

My Personality

As of September First, you can find me on the third floor of 592 Queen St W, right at the corner of Queen and Bathurst! I'm moving in with my friend Dave McIntyre, who I know from Insight Theatre back in the day in Ottawa, as well as meeting up with him again in Windsor, where he was a couple of years ahead of me and became one of my favourite drinking buddies. Also, his birthday is the day after Elevator Expiry Date, so joint parties will take place.

( Who likes pictures? (With captions!) )

People should totally visit me sometime, maybe have a beer on the patio.

EDIT: Oh, and this video is hilarious

As tough as this is for me, I think I may have to boycott Girls Gone Wild. It pains me that this is what it comes to; a world where I can't watch videos of Mardi Gras girls showing their 18 year old breasts in exchange for a few measly trinkets. It should clear a good 7 hours out of my daily routine. However, it is necessary, after reading this LA Times story.

Don't worry about me; I'll find other porn.

Well, I finally showed that while I am the biggest coward in the family, since it still took me the longest, it ain't by much, as I joined the likes of my Mom, my Dad, my Sister, and my Brother-in-Law as people who have bungee jumped. I think I regret it. The image of me falling helplessly haunts me whenever I close my eyes, never mind that in reality a few moments later the cord caught me perfectly.

W E I R D E D O U T ! ! !

So, I just got a job in Toronto, and I start Monday, so it's time to get my ass in gear and move down there. I'll be staying with my uncle temporarily while I look like mad for a place to live, preferably not too far a drive from my work.

The job?

I'l be a caterer with ByDavid's catering, a company that works film sets in the Toronto area. I get in in the morning, prepare all my platters, load them up in a company van, drive to the set, feed the actors and crew lunch, pack it all up, drive back, and clean up all my stuff, and that's my day. It's pretty sweet.

Anyhoo, Jiminwindsor is, I guess, Jimintoronto, though this journal name will not change.

Woot.

Current Music: I Put a Spell on You, by CCR