A bunch of hooey

Still relishing in "Gord sweat"

2006-11-09T07:03:00.000-08:00

I did it! Not only did I accomplish the seemingly impossible task of snagging tickets to one of the greatly anticipated Tragically Hip shows at the Commodore, but
I stealthy slithered my way up... waaaaay, way up to front and centre!
There he was, Gord in all of his glory, performing is his usual
theatrical style: merging mime actions, interpretive dancing and, well,
just plain old rockin' out -- Gord was in fine form.

In typical Gordon Downie fashion, what Trag show would be complete without
an impromptu Gord rant! This time, he decided his tangent would go off on
polar bears, when he subsequently pretended to be one on stage.
The energy in the room was electric, and it was hard to gauge who was
having the most fun: the crowd or the band.

The Tragically Hip have become a Canadian institution.
When I think of Canada, I think of hockey, back bacon, maple syrup and Trag.
Right now I am beaming! Fully exuding patriotism and my head is still in the clouds from such a "hiptacular" evening!
(Single tear rolls down my face)

The boys are outta jail and on the big screen

2006-10-12T23:02:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a date with Ricky, Julian, Bubs and the rest of the gang down at Sunnyvale Trailer Park. The movie is truly a quintessential piece of Canadiana: Not only does the soundtrack primarily feature the Tragically Hip, but Gord Downie himself makes a hilarious cameo appearance.

Jim Lahey was in fine form. In fact, he stole the show on a number of occasions. In addition to his usual sh*t tirades, he stumbles about more inebriated than ever on a relentless drinking binge, garnering plenty of enthusiastic applause from the theatre audience.

However, some key characters including J-Roc and Phil had insignificant screen time, "y'know what I'm sayin'?" And I also felt the excessive T 'n' A took away from the characters. But, good to see the original integrity of the show remained entact overall, complete with plenty of talk about growin' dope, sellin' dope, and smokin' dope, in true trailer park style. The show was definitely worth every loonie and toonie.

Hi, my name's Holly, and I'm kind of a big deal you know

2006-10-06T07:23:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had the unique opportunity of attending an event hosted at the US Consul General's home. As I mingled amongst the upper echelon of society in a swanky, regal setting, I almost forgot I was a mere pleb.

I'll spare everyone from shameless namedropping, but the guests included a veritable who's who of Vancouver's elite. The evening unfolded without a hitch, and my photography will even be featured on the US Embassy's website! Clearly I am an integral component of cultivating US/Canada relations.

The Holinator schmoozes with U.S. Consul General Lewis Lukens

Mother Nature's Stairmaster: OWNED

2006-10-03T07:50:00.000-07:00

In yet another instance of me perpetuating a Vancouver stereotype, I've been hauling myself up Grouse on a weekly basis over summer. I might as well throw all modesty out the window here,
because another glory grab is in order.

Despite the wave of fatigue over me due to mild hangover, I summitted the Grind in 49 minutes, 35 seconds. It wasn't pretty. In fact, after a series of dry heaves at the top, I'm pretty sure I was dangerously close to cardiac arrest. But, being the impossibly obstinate woman I am, I jogged up the last quarter, watching the passersby mouths agape probably wondering "is this chick insane?"

In any case, I would like to dedicate this posting to the following artists and their respective songs. Without these tunes plugged into my MP3 player, I'd be lucky if i even made it up the mountain in less than an hour.

1.) FAITH NO MORE: Gentle art of making enemies
2.) DAVE MATTHEWS BAND: Two step
3.) GREEN DAY: Holiday
4.) METALLICA: Master of Puppets
5.) MOBY: Extreme Ways
6.) PEARL JAM: Porch
7.) BEASTIE BOYS: Ch-Ch-Check it Out
8.) SURVIVOR: Eye of the Tiger
9.) NELLY FURTADO: Promiscuous Girl
10.) TERRY BUSH: Theme song for "The Littlest Hobo"

Clinton Rips Fox on Bin Laden

2006-09-25T20:20:00.000-07:00

GO, BILL, GO!
This is AWESOME.

He is pissed and he goes off! You tell 'em Billy Boy! Those Fox bastards!
I would pay good money to see Clinton slap Rupert Murdoch.

CAUTION: MEDIA- Do not swallow

2006-09-21T11:45:00.000-07:00

Here's a great joke about media censorship. It's funny, yet sadly reflective of the endangered nature of impartial, objective reporting...

George Bush goes to a primary school for a photo op on his new education reform bill. When it’s over he asks the students if they have any questions.
One boy puts up his hand and George asks him what his name is.
"Billy."
"And what is your question, Billy?"

”First, why did the U.S. invade Iraq without UN support? Second, why are you President when Al Gore got more votes? And third, whatever happened to Osama Bin Laden?"
Just then the bell rings for recess. George Bush tells the students that they will continue after recess.

When they resume George says, "OK, where were we? Oh that's right - question time. Who has a question?"

Another little boy puts up his hand. George points him out and asks him what his name is.
"Steve."

"And what is your question, Steve?"

"First, why did the U.S. invade Iraq without the support of the UN? Second, why are you President when Al Gore got more votes? Third, whatever happened to Osama Bin Laden? And fourth, where the hell is Billy?"

The Making of David Hasselhoff's "Jump In My Car"

2006-09-20T07:52:00.000-07:00


Following a barrage of enthusiastic comments to Hoff's "Jump in my Car" masterpiece, here's a compelling follow-up to my last Hoff posting. It's the actual making of this awe-inspiring music video! (Hey, at least for you fellas there's a bunch of hot girls in it... and for the ladies? Well, need I explain? The Hoff drought is officially OVER!)

On the road to Internet stardom

2006-09-12T16:46:00.000-07:00

I don’t mean to glory grab and continue on my path of excessive self-promotion… BUT I am proud to announce that I have made my way to third placement on Google! That’s right, folks! Third!

Upon typing “Holly Reid” into Google a few months ago, I think the “real” me was about four pages down. Now all I have to do is eradicate these other two Holly imposters to be the dominant Holly Reid on the Net! Hooray!

I was kind of hoping to see something a little more scandalous than a link to my work, but I’ll take what I can get. Maybe if I’m lucky, one day the photos of me skinny-dipping in Greece will surface on the Net. I always wondered whatever became of those…

N.B.- for those of you who say you’ve never “Googled” yourself, I say “LIES, damn it! LIES!” Everyone has! And if you haven’t, why not?

You are sooo small beer

2006-09-08T08:17:00.000-07:00

In true nerd fashion, I've been subscribing to Dictionary.com's "Word of the Day" for nearly four years now. Every once in a while, a word comes along that cracks me up. Today's word is a real gem:

small beer - Definitions from Dictionary.com

1. weak beer.
2. Chiefly British Slang. matters or persons of little or no importance.

Can we all work together to re-introduce this word into our vernacular? Please?

Rockin' out (That's how we roll)

2006-09-05T19:03:00.000-07:00

The Canadian contingent shows those Americans how it's done!

Dave Matthews Band concert, Labour Day long weekend-
Gorge Amphitheatre in George, Washington.
Left to right: Nick, Erin, Anya, The Holinator, Tyler, and "Nametag Guy", a.k.a. Andrew, is keepin' it real in the back row.

Following maximum beers and minimum sleep, we made it back to Canada in one piece, despite our unfruitful efforts trolling for marines. It must have been the three-hour marathon of the Littlest Hobo theme song blasted full volume at 2:00 a.m. that provided us with the encouragement we so desperately needed.

That's hobo style, after all.

What’s next? Tupperware parties?

2006-09-02T09:16:00.000-07:00

I have detected an alarming trend of domesticity: it had been less than 24 hours after buying a stove, when I decided to purchase an iron. Not a curling iron, wrought iron, or even iron supplements, but an actual iron. I had reached an unfortunate conclusion: my strategy of hanging wrinkled shirts on the towel rack as I took a hot shower was a pragmatic, yet preposterous alternative to ironing.

Feeling flooded with defeat, I lurked conspicuously into London Drugs with my shifty eyes darting back and forth, reluctantly seeking the iron aisle. I’m certain that staff were thinking either:

a.) I was bashfully contemplating the purchase of flavoured/scented French tickler prophylactic devices, or;
b.) I was crafting a plan to extend myself the five-finger discount at the cosmetics department

Upon acquiring my brand new iron (complete with nonstick soleplate, automatic shutoff and vertical steaming), I had a nauseating vision of exchanging recipes for the tastiest pineapple flan over tea and crumpets served on freshly pressed doilies. Damn you, Good Housekeeping! I will never succumb to your evil propaganda! NEVER!

In the absence of peanuts of Cracker Jacks...

2006-09-01T17:54:00.000-07:00

...a cheeseburger and a few beers will always suffice! Go C's!

Just a harmless little ladies night out: Sarah and The Holinator
root, root, root for the home team, despite the Canadians' devastating 6-1 loss.

Reconstituted beef stroganoff, anyone?

2006-08-31T16:05:00.000-07:00

After years of being incessantly mocked for my abysmal culinary skill, I bought a stove yesterday, to;
a.) staunchly protest these groundless attacks on my cooking capacity, and;
b.) treat myself to yet another birthday present (and yes, of course I am still celebrating).
It may only be a camping stove, but it’s a stove, no less.

The impetus of this seemingly impulsive acquisition was the dehydrated astronaut food given to me by none other than Sarah and Anya. Perhaps the catalyst of my bizarre affinity for space food originated with my tour of the Kennedy Space Centre in Cape Canaveral as a kid, when I excitedly left the NASA gift shop with astronaut ice cream (it looked more like a piece of cotton candy sold circa 1850, but the fact that REAL astronaunts would eat this stuff on REAL space missions would somehow compensate for the chalky, revolting aftertaste).

**The editor apologizes for The Holinator's slight, yet frequent digressions**

Who says I can’t cook? With a gentle pour from the kettle, voila! A scrumptious three-course meal! What kind of gastronomic adventures shall I offer my guests? Perhaps a generous helping of such reconstituted gourmet delights as zucchini lasagna, kung pao shrimp, or even huevos rancheros! Olé! And what meal would be complete without a delectable dessert such as three berry cobbler? Refined palates indeed!

Stuck between a threesome and a beer-a-mid

2006-08-30T07:23:00.000-07:00

These days you can find anything on the Internet. Got a hankering for a decade-old piece of toast bearing an image of the Virgin Mary? No problem! (On sale for the bargain basement price of a mere $28,000!)
The majority of us, however, choose to seek more practical items online. Furniture, jobs, concert tickets—you want it? You got it!

Last week, however, was my inaugural attempt at finding roommates via the web. It turns out that my cynical concerns were warranted, as the quest for suitable flat mates was indeed an arduous undertaking.

The prolific nature of fanatical vegans in Vancouver initially came as a shocker. I mean, I can understand that they would likely not be keen to host a pig roast in the backyard, but to vehemently deny having milk and eggs in the house is an outlandish demand! And then there were the frat boys with the "beer-a-mid" in the backyard. And did I mention the four Korean ESL students seeking a fifth roomie to share their studio suite?

As my plight continued, I saw a few postings for curiously inexpensive rooms. Upon further investigation, some couples were looking for "open-minded, liberal" females, accepting of their "alternative lifestyle." There’s a better chance of me gauging out my eyeballs with a rusty retractor than pimping myself out to some freakish couple seeking deviant, third-party
bedroom antics in exchange for cheap rent. In an effort to keep this blog PG-rated, I won’t even begin to discuss the requisites for free accommodation!

P.S.- This post is dedicated to Mark and Tina, my new roomies. Out of all the random people on the net, I am fortunate to have found two people that are not only "normal", but are super cool! (With many thanks to http://vancouver.craigslist.org/)

No room for 29 candles

2006-08-29T20:07:00.000-07:00

The candles have long been blown out, the beer cans returns returned to their rightful owner at the Liquor Store, and the chip crumbs have been vaccuumed from the carpet.

But there is still some distressing birthday evidence lurking in the aftermath of my 29th birthday party: not one, but two birthday cakes. I don't think my will power has been tested to this level before. Every time I open the fridge, there they are in all of their decadent glory: the cakes, literally with my name on it.

Somehow this disgusting display of gluttony is legitimized, and definitely warranted, given the fact it's my birthday. At least that's what I keep telling myself. I'll keep milking the birthday excuse until every bite is inhaled. Hey, it's only once a year, right?

Dance your cares away, worries for another day!

2006-08-22T07:45:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my Retro Interlude (a.k.a. "blog filler").

I hope you enjoy this profile of my favourite Fraggle.
(N.B. - Please note the apt usage of the word "hooey".)

Matt - The Traveler

After leaving Gobo, his maps, and the only copy of his book "History of the Universe, Part 1," Traveling Matt Fraggle left Fraggle Rock to explore Outer Space. It took him no time at all to make his first discovery - the world "out there" is inhibited primarily by Silly Creatures, multi-sized, two legged beings with bizarre habits.

For instance, by holding an upside-down bowl on a stick, these creatures can make water pour from the sky. Also, they entertain themselves by watching flat Silly Creatures who live inside a box; they feed round, shiny objects to the Pavement Creatures who are rooted to the ground; and they unquestioningly obey the magic Beast with Three Eyes, one red, one yellow and one green.

Uncle Matt records his discoveries on postcards which he sends back to his nephew, Gobo. Gobo considers these postcards to be scientific documents. His friends, particularly Red, consider them to be hooey. Nevertheless, Matt feels he is doing Fraggledom a great service, and he will continue to do so until he can find his way back home.

An even bigger bang for my buck

2006-08-17T18:04:00.000-07:00

As if seeing the Rolling Stones, arguably one of the greatest rock and roll bands EVER, wasn’t enticing enough. The next thing I know, another rock legend, Van Morrison is announced as the Stones’ opening band for their "A Bigger Bang Tour" Vancouver date!

Van Morrison! The Rolling Stones! One night! As my thoughts raced forward to the show, I imagined myself strutting gleefully into B.C. Place with an exuberant entourage of fellow classic rocker friends in tow.

My dream sequence came to an abrupt halt, however, when the consensus from my friends was that the show was “too expensive” and that Mick and the boys were “passed it” and that B.C. Place’s acoustics “suck”. As I listened a barrage of excuses, I roared, “So what! It’s THE STONES for God’s sake! AND Van Morrison, to boot! Are you kidding me?”

As a wave of indignation swept through me, I thought to myself, “That’s okay, Holly, all of those naysayers out there can read my raving review on November 4th to feel what it’s like to miss out on a piece of rock history.”

P.S.- This post is dedicated to my mother, Dylan Falconer, and some random guy from the Internet, all of whom have tentatively agreed to join me for the show.

Being Bassets

2006-08-15T07:43:00.000-07:00

With the wonders of Google Video (my new favourite website), I finally managed to upload my masterpiece, my magnum opus if you will: "Being Bassets."
It's a docu-drama of epic proportions featuring a few hundred Basset Hounds in the starring roles. This compelling documentary highlights the 43rd Annual Basset Hound Walk held in Stanley Park, Vancouver, BC, in May 2006.

Random? Yes. Will it give Citizen Kane a run for its money? You can be the judge of that. I am confident, however, that it will long be remembered as my cinematic crowning achievement.

Go-Go Ms. Gadget Ziptrek

2006-08-11T09:38:00.000-07:00

To save everyone the redundancy of a caption, I'll allow this photo to speak for itself.

I will clarify, however, that the person you see ungracefully attempting a ziptrekking backflip is none other than my mother.

In the past 10 months, the two of us have participated in other mother-daughter bonding experiences such as trekking through Northern Thailand's jungles, sipping martinis in Stockholm's ice bar, and doing the "look! no hands!" as we were projected at 130 k.p.h. high into the sunny California sky in the world's first hydraulically-launched roller coaster.

Knitting and baking? Not for my mum. I think she'd trade it in for skydiving and hang-gliding any day.

An ode to my bleak grey partitions

2006-08-09T09:11:00.000-07:00

“My Cubicle”
By: Morning Sidekick
Parody on “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt

My job is stupid my day’s a bore,
Inside this office from eight to four
Nothin’ ever happens my life is pretty bland,
Pretending that I’m working, pray I don’t get canned.

My Cubicle, My cubicle
It’s One of Sixty two
It’s my small space in a crowded place
Just a six-by-six board booth
And I hate it that’s the truth

When I give a sigh as the boss walks by,
no one ever talks to me or looks me in the eye.
And I really should work but instead I just sit here and surf the Internet.

In My Cubicle, My cubicle
It doesn’t have a view.
It’s my small space in a crowded place
I sit in side there too.
And sometimes I sit here nude.

A hot cup of Hoffee

2006-08-04T21:03:00.000-07:00

That's right, it's Hofficial... your favourite cult icon wants to take you home! Riding on the heels of his Baywatch and Knight Rider successes, the one and only David Hasselhoff returns in a truly remarkable, breath-taking performance.

No pedestrians - that means YOU!

2006-08-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

As far as I understood, the "no pedestrians" pictogram is internationally recognized. Or at least that's what I thought up until today.

Despite the fact it was a blazing hot August afternoon, I took my chances with the onslaught of tourists and decided to embark upon my usual post-work rollerblade around the Stanley Park Seawall.

I always thought that the Seawall's rules are pretty straightforward: pedestrians stick to their own lane, and bikers and bladers share another.

Well, as I sit here watching the blood continuing to drip down from one of my five wounds spanning three limbs, apparently I had too much faith in such a simple concept. While dodging around the anarchy of tandem bikes, accessory dogs and camera-wielding tourists, apparently I was the only one who saw the ubiquitous, unobscured "no pedestrians" postings.

As I approached the homestretch, I prematurely congratulated myself on escaping of the ordeal unscathed. But one too many tourists in my lane led to my inevitable, yet magnificent bail - a proper spectacle indeed! I slid down the concrete like some medieval Slip 'n' Slide, trying to ignore the searing pain in my leg, but couldn't help chuckling to myself as a German couple walked by, right past the "rollerblade/bikes only" sign.
*sigh*

Fabio: ciao bello, ti voglio...

2006-07-19T17:55:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay- I know! Just as I was going to embark on an insightful journey through my profound thoughts and share my infinite wisdom, I cracked under pressure!

There he was, staring at me from my computer's desktop: Fabio Cannavaro.

Being a female football fan certainly has its advantages!

The LEAST I could do to pay homage to Team Italy's captain would be to post this harmless photo of him in all his glory. Apologies to the straight males who are reading this, but let's face it: doesn't Fabio possess that Corey Hart-like quality in that men want to be him and women want to be with him?

Let the games begin!

2006-07-19T17:14:00.000-07:00

Oh goody! My very own blog! Hooray!
It makes me wonder, however, if I am important and/or amusing enough that anyone will actually read it... (Aside from my own mother, but even that's a stretch!)

Directly following the anticipation and excitement of getting my blog up and running, it occured to me, "Wait a sec, do I even know what a blog is?" The answer was a resounding "NO".

So, being the resourceful little wannabe journalist that I am, I expended tremendous time and effort researching the definition of "blog". I must have spent all day in the library searching through the card catalogue! (Okay fine, I "Googled" it and 0.05 seconds later I was presented with 2.4 billion hits. Kids have it so easy these days!)

Anyway, whether or not you are brave enough to admit you don't know the definition, here it is, as quoted verbatim from one of my fave sites, Wikipedia:

"A weblog, which is usually shortened to blog, is a type of website where entries are made (such as in a journal or diary, displayed in a reverse chronological order. Blogs often provide commentary or news on a particular subject, such as food, politics, or local news; some function as more personal online diaries. A typical blog combines text, images, and links to other blogs, web pages, and other media related to its topic."

(source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blog)

Now that I am officially a part of this blogging phenomenon sweeping cyberspace, I am curious as to whether being a "blogger" makes me:
a.) Überdorky, or;
b.) Übercool

I will opt for the latter, but I'm sure some of my friends would beg to differ...
So, keeping true to my blog's title, brace yourself for nothing but "a bunch of hooey."

Enjoy.