Spam Jams: Parkinson Jack (Part 2)

July 30, 2010

For the last week, as transgendered escort Clintina Supanova, I’ve been immersed in a conversation with an internet scam artist going by the dubious name “Parkinson Jack”. Read the first part of our interactions here.

You will remember that when we last left Clintina and Parkinson, Clintina was having trouble figuring out how to even get Parkinson the money he was attempting to extort from her. Clintina was also confused about Parkinson’s use of various contradictory, gender-specific pronouns in reference to the lawyer who was drawing up some mysterious, but potentially lucrative, financial documents. Parkinson tried to clear these matters up with his next message.

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TwitFic: 3 observations

July 30, 2010

Mr. Dapper has been neglecting his Twitter lately. Here’s the few tweets from the past couple of weeks.

  • She was the sort of girl who constantly demanded presents. He was the sort of fellow who would enter a life of crime to provide them.
  • In the end she attributed his overwhelming success to the fact he had abolutely no idea that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
  • The heatwave had settled a stillness on the city—too hot & sticky to move. But something else as well. Silence. The buskers were in hiding.

TASTE Portuguese Cuisine

July 29, 2010

They say you can’t judge a book by its cover but whoever “they” are, they’re wrong. Judging books based on their covers is pretty much the basis of the entire graphic design industry.

When you’re shopping for a book, if you can’t judge it by its cover, what are you going to judge it on? Outside of reading a chapter or two in the ubiquitous adjoining coffee shop, you have to rely on the imagery and typography to make that decision for you. A mere flash across your field of vision tells you if it’s sci-fi adventure, chick-lit, a classic, self-help, or a dark crime thriller. You can tell in less than a nano-second if the book even has the possibility of floating your boat.

The newly opened Taste is a hip, modern restaurant/lounge focussing on Portuguese cuisine but subtly fused with a blend of world flavours. Their signage however (Cooper Black Italic? Really?), says it’s a cheap greasy spoon or sandwich house. Though the logo does look a little better in reversed type on the website and business cards, merda that sign is ugly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) the cover to this book is misleading.

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Spam Jams: Parkinson Jack (Part 1)

July 27, 2010

We all get them. Dubious offers from strangers with questionable grammar. They often have names like “Mr. Parkinson Jack” or something even more ridiculous. I was recently contacted by Mr. Jack with the following email.

Dear Sir/Madam,

I represent a group of company based in united kingdom and Middle east we are currently seeking means of expanding and relocating our business interest in the following sectors:banking,real estate,stock speculation and mining,transportation and tobacco.If you think you have a solid background and idea of making good profit in any of the mentioned business sectors in your country.

please write me for possible business co-operation.Moreso,we are ready to facilitate and fund any business that is capable of generating 10% annual return on investment(AROI).JV patrnership and loan financing can also be considered.

Looking forward for a possible business collaboration with you.

Parkinson Jack

Well, that seemed completely above board and an excellent opportunity so I responded.

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Hey! Hey! Hey!

July 20, 2010

Okay, fine, there’s nothing “odd” about this at all. But sometimes I just love there’s an old-school Fat Albert style junkyard in The Junction.

One of the reasons I can never have kids is I think this would make an awesome playground. It’s also the reason I can never babysit for my friends who live right around the corner from this urban decay paradise.

Last year it caught on fire. That was awesome too.

And here’s a recent picture of Fat Albert seen hanging out there.

All Men Are Mortal: Not Fearful of Happiness

July 19, 2010

The Jonas Brothers are just another in a long line of cutesy pop bands made up of adorable siblings stretching back past The Jackson 5, The Partridge Family and probably even further than the Von Trapps. In between Hanson in the ’90s and the Jonases today, an Arkansas family by the unfortunate name of Butts also took a shot at the hit parade.

L to R: Jon-Jon, Emily, David and MacCauley.

Their surname clearly being an inappropriate name for their Disney Channel-styled bubblegum pop, the Butts opted for the slightly less inappropriate, though far more ponderous, All Men Are Mortal for a moniker. Why Warner did not insist on a name change is nothing short of baffling but one has to remember long-winded emo bands such as My Chemical Romance, 30 Seconds to Mars and Cute Is What We Aim For were all the rage.

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Things you see in your kitchen after dark

July 15, 2010

Thursday, 9pm:  A little ways above, at the top of the basement stairs, is the back door of the house. The evening is well into the twilight, almost night, but the deepening grey-blue of the sky still casts a dim, diffused glow through the open door. Heat and humidity hangs in the air.

Making its way towards the door, down the short step out of the kitchen into the small foyer and past the top of the stairs, is the nonchalant, lumbering bulk of a young raccoon.

It moves with a slow, satisfied, unconcerned gait. It probably has a belly full of cat food from the bowl near the sink. It senses movement on the stairs and quickens its exit but, as soon as its tail passes through the door, the raccoon turns to look back inside the house. As the door is slammed in its face, it looks up with the expectant innocence of young child or a career criminal.

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Church of Snack Pac

July 13, 2010

Apparently “all welcome” only applies to children 5 to 11. Also, the vague bullet point of “Puppets” leaves room for interpretation. As if the children are being turned into God’s puppets. Which is, I would assume, the point of this club.

Interesting how bible stories is tacked on the end almost as an afterthought. I like the prominence given to snack pacs. I wonder if they tell the kids gluttony is a sin before or after they’re given the snack pac.

Lakeshourmet: Lucky Dice Restaurant Dining Lounge

July 8, 2010

We’ve probably been to Lucky Dice more times than any other restaurant we’ve reviewed. Mandi, having grown up in the area, has eaten there numerous times. Myself, I’ve only been there a total of three times and for two of these meals I was hung over. I suspect Mandi was hung over most of the times she’s been there too. It’s a good place to nurse a hangover. Grease, starch, sugar, soda pop, all the tonics for what ails you. It’s a hangover kind of place.

Chances are you won’t be the only one in the joint with a hangover. The restaurant itself is a hangover from another time. It’s a real, true blue, dyed-in-the-wool, greasy spoon diner.

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Things you see in the 19th floor men’s room

July 7, 2010

He’s tall, erect, dressed in an impossibly crisp white shirt and grey slacks. His face is rigid as red Mahneshan rock formations. His choice in eyewear is elegant and conservative—the lenses are rimless; the arms are nearly invisible in their thinness.

Not unexpectedly, he is punctual.

Every day at this time he squares off against the mirror holding his toothbrush in an iron fist. His brushing is unforgiving and efficient. When he pulls the brush from his mouth, it is with a series of violent, ripping thrusts. He rakes the bristles across his teeth and gums as if he’s trying to expel them from his mouth with the remnants of his breakfast.

He paces while he brushes. And brushes. And brushes.

It’s a daily assault that never seems to end.

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