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Andrew Menzies – A Review

Last night in a small comedy club in the basement of a bar in Gastown, Vancouver, bobandandrew.com’s very own Andrew Menzies took the stage to spit some jokes. In the process, the young comedian effectively did stand-up for the first time. No doubt a very significant event in Andrew’s life. I’m sure it probably ranks somewhere between becoming self aware and hearing his mother swear for the first time.

Guilt and Comedy is a newer comedy event in town and is run by the ever beautiful and talented Lauren Martin along with her co-host, the also beautiful Kate Lumsdon. If last night was any indication, this is a comedy night that will pretty much let anyone perform. In the span of only a couple hours I saw a veteran of the Vancouver comedy scene, a beat cop turned poet who issued poetic citations, a rather angry homosexual comedian, a clown lady and sketch comedy from none other than Jackie Blackmore of “The Skinny.” Oh, and Andrew Menzies. But don’t get me wrong, folks, this eclectic gathering of talent was not only interesting but enjoyable.
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WEB LOG

This is truth: until sixteen days ago, I had no idea that the word “blog” was derived from the term “web log”.

This revelation threw me. I’m usually pretty tight with words and shit. I got straight B’s in high school English; obviously above average, but not too big for my britches.

Had I gotten all A’s I would be filled with too much confidence to even explore my grammatical shortcomings. (Of which, believe me, there are many.)

When I think of words that are fucking kick ass, I tend to think of things, as opposed to ideas. Democracy is a pretty good idea, but as a word? Lame.

Some words have a particular ring to them that’s just appealing, even if the object, idea or place they describe or represent is wholly disgusting. Examples: falcon, snot, microwave.

I could go on but I’d rather share these drawings I made.

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DCMZ Behind the Scenes: Acting with Andrew

On August 10th 2008 we wrapped filming on our contribution to the Zombie film genre: Don’t Call Me Zombie.

Zombie is the story of Al, a nine to five working class zombie who has to overcome social misnomers in an attempt find acceptance amongst his peers.  It stars Alex Dafoe, Claire Lindsay, Juan Riedinger and Jennifer Milliron.  Our wonderful friend Nicholas Humphries directed and we have EXCLUSIVE behind the scenes features for you. First in our series is a little peek at how a master actor such as Andrew works on set.

Enjoy.

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I’d Rather be Sailing

Since I was but a boy I have heard the call of the ocean, beckoning me to take my rightful place in this world as a seaman. Unfortunately I was born inland with a deathly phobia of sharks. However, my longing for the sea has not waned and I remain facinated with the naval tradition even today. How does this affinity for all things aqua affect my everyday life, you might ask? How do I cope with this unrealized dream that burns deep down inside me?

Well, I listen to a lot of Jimmy Buffett, I watch The Hunt For Red October whenever it comes on TV and I take baths instead of showers whenever possible.

You might say I’ve given up on my dream of being a sailor. You might also say that I’ve lost part of who I am by not following this passion. You might be a jerk. But, as we all know, you can’t be everything you want to be in life. Some desires have to give way to others so that we may be genuinely successful at one thing rather than kinda good at many things. It’s how we deal with these lost opportunities that make us into one of two kinds of people:

1) Happy, well adjusted, relatively normal individuals.

2) Losers.

Here is my theory on how to make sure you end up as number one instead of number two:

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Shake On It!

Let me open by saying that the handshake is becoming a lost art. I am deeply saddened by this.

Sure, we have fist-pounds, high-fives and various other hand movements that can mean a variety of different things at an any given time, in any given context. The sheer amount of variation in these hand motions make them inherently confusing. If you buy a house from a guy and he tries to high-five you it could mean anything. Yeah, maybe he’s just happy for you. But then again, maybe he just swindled you out of thousands and thousands of dollars. Who knows? The handshake however, is clear. The handshake is resolute. The handshake is steadfast.

Since the beginning of time, or at least since the Romans, we’ve been using the handshake to signify some kind of cooperation. It’s an acknowledgment of a new acquaintance, a finalization of a deal or a congratulatory gesture. In whatever form it takes, the handshake can be trusted as a traditional gauge of a person’s character.

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How to be a Ninja in Everyday Life

As we all know, Ninja-ism is a way of life. Not just some guy in a black suit lurking in the shadows – that’s a child molester. Ninjas are elite warriors who have been trained from childhood in the intricacies of a centuries-old martial art that utilizes stealth, physical prowess and honor. But it’s not just the Ninja’s ability to perpetrate an assassination that makes them cool. No, Ninjas have a lot more we can learn from them. In fact, a lot of the Ninja teachings and Ninja philosophy have everyday applicability.

Since the first Ninja, Prince Yamato of Japan, people have continually been in awe of the Ninja’s sweet ass ability to lay the smack down. You just don’t mess with a Ninja. They don’t take shit from anyone and they do WHAT they want, WHEN they want. What could be more cool? We’ve all been in those social situations where skills in sabotage, espionage, scouting and hand to hand combat would come in handy. It’s in these very situations that we should look to the tradition of the Ninja to guide us.

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Freedom Blog: A Tribute to A Decent Nation

America. The land of the free, the home of the Whopper. The country that brought us slavery, Rosie O’Donnell, and the Segway. What can I say about such a wonderful country?

I love America. I’ve been to America. It’s a confused, angsty teenage country that doesn’t give a fuck what mom says, he’s staying out past one and shooting down mailboxes with dad’s .22. It solves its problems by punching things, throwing tantrums and not worrying about the next morning. My kind of country! Argh!

Tomorrow is Independence Day. America will be 319 years old (a rough estimate). Now, I know things aren’t going so well for America right now (Bush, terrorism, no health care, unemployment, Katrina fallout, Iraq, the sub-prime mortgage crisis, several unsolved child murders, Iran, racism, the election, flooding, wildfires, Mitt Romney) but that doesn’t mean they deserve any less a special day to celebrate all the good the country as produced over the years.

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No Country for Young Man

I’m twenty three. Pretty young, right? Whole life ahead of you, all that bull-jazz. I get it. What have I, a spry young lad in the prime of his life got to complain about?

Lately I’ve been feeling a little lost. I look around at my contemporaries- people my age, younger- and can’t help but be baffled at where things are headed. I tend to shake my head a lot. I feel like an old man who yearns “for the good old days” and that if “those darn kids could just keep it down”, I could have my milk and go to bed.

Our world is even more connected than ever, yet we’ve chosen to be anonymous, isolated. Everything is instant, there’s no time to wait. Our language is being lost amidst a flurry of key beeps and LOLs.

A lack of formal education hinders me from writing a meandering essay about the socio-political causes, contrasting class and economic details that may cause some of the problems cited. Hence, here is a list of current social trends that I abhor. Enjoy.

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Party Chat Procedure

The party chat is an art unto itself. When you’re at parties it’s a given fact that you’re going to end up talking to someone you barely know. Many times these people will be boring and idiotic. Other times they might actually be able to carry on a half decently intelligent conversation. Still other times, if you’re extremely lucky, you might run into a convicted fellon or a former drug runner – but these instances are rare. Most times though you’ll be stuck, screaming in your head for whoever you’re conversing with to “SHUT THE HELL UP!!!” or wondering if you have enough milk at home for your cereal in the morning. That’s where I come in. I have developed a strategy for dealing with just these kinds of encounters and I share this information with you now. Prepare to get wise.

Party Talk Strategy #1: Control the conversation.

There are a lot of pedantic jerks at parties. People are selfish. They like to talk about themselves, how they paint on weekends, how they’re writing a novel but just can’t seem to work up the courage to ’share’ themselves so intimately on the page or how they went rock climbing in Gibraltar on their trip to Asia. The first thing you have to do is lull them into a false sense of security by acting like you’re really interested in what they’re saying. Then start to drop comments into the conversation that will take it in a more interesting direction. When they mention how they like to start off with some cardio before they move into weight training at the gym say something like “Oh, tell me about it! My personal trainer, Linda, tries to get me to do that but we just always end up having sex in the change room.” Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, lying is key to good party conversation.

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Get fit – Have fun.

We’re living in a fitness obsessed society. Hal Johnson and Joanne McLeod called it. Everywhere you look people are running, jogging, doing yoga and various other ‘healthy’ activities. Which is strange because is seems like more people are fat these days than ever before. If you ask me, looking after your body is overrated. I mean, the only real benefit to keeping fit is that it allows you to get laid on a regular basis more easily. If your face is ugly, the least you can do is have abs. But lets face it, it’s really hard to get in shape. Especially if you haven’t exactly been keeping up with your crunches lately (or for the past decade). All this begs the question – if being fit is so hard to achieve, then why are you even trying to do it in the first place?!

Whenever life hands you a challenge like this the first thing you should do is look for the best way to cheat. Luckily, cheating is the one thing you can count on the public school system to teach children. Of course, in this case, the best way to cheat is to APPEAR like you’re in shape when in reality you spend your evening cuddled up on the couch with a bag of Cheetos.

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You Can’t Tie This Blog Down!

Now, I know I will end up homeless one day for sure. I make little money, consider myself an artist and take note of all cozy looking spaces on my walk to work. Long have I known of the harsh cruelties of this world as I live in Vancouver – which has the most homeless people of all the cities in the world (per capita). It’s a fact. Everyday I see how they live, trashcan to trashcan, begging for change or whatever else they can get. Quite frankly, it’s depressing. Not so much for the fact that they are homeless or that they are hooked on drugs or that they haven’t showered since 1993 or that they all seem to be able to look after dogs and not themselves – but rather for the fact that they don’t have to live this way.

Take 60s and 70s rock music. All the answers to these people’s problems lie there. When one finds themselves in a homeless state what one needs to do is RAMBLE. This takes what should be a hopeless and forlorn state of being and makes it cool and exciting. If you can work GAMBLING into your life at this point that’s even better. But lets stick with the particulars of rambling for now.

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Pigeon Technology

The alley behind my apartment building houses many wonders: an overflowing garbage bin that smells like Burger King, an abandoned bicycle that’s been chained to the fence since I moved in two years ago, and a covered car park infested with pigeons.

I don’t hate pigeons. I like their shape. If the mood struck, I feel I could easily grab a pigeon with one hand. Birds in general, I like. Sometimes their light chirping sounds of music; a nice accent to a walk through the park on a warm summer‘s eve. Sure they poo everywhere, and have the ability to poo on you from the clouds above, but that’s fair trade for the shape and acoustics.

I didn’t notice the pigeons in the car park until a few weeks ago. While on my way to the local convenience store, several pigeons swooped down, startled no doubt at my intrusion to their natural habitat. One merely grazed my shoulder, while a second came within inches of my face. There were others- I could see pairs of beady eyes in the darkness- but only two chose to attack. I could have fought back, but opted to run. (I didn‘t spend twenty-three years on this earth drinking and chain smoking just to lose it all to a pair of fucking birds.) Since the incident- which I have taken to calling my own personal 9/11- I’ve largely avoided the car park of hell. Read the rest of this entry »

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This Blog is Fight! By Bob…

The fight: a physical confrontation between two individuals. To dance, to chuck ‘em, to drop the gloves, to get crunk, to lay the smack down, to step to, to take it outside, to throw down, to want a piece of, to throw the hands.

Now, I should mention that I’ve never been in a real fight. I’ve been in hockey fights, witnessed/helped break up a couple of bar fights and I punched my brother in the face one time. But by no means do I consider myself a violent person and the prospect of getting punched in the face myself frightens me. However, I am convinced that I would do okay if the time came for me to ‘man up’.

First off, I’ve watched a lot of fights. People tell me I make good comments when watching UFC and other types of fighting. This leads me to believe that I have a pretty good handle on the theory of hand to hand combat. I’m a relatively in-shape guy. I play hockey once a week and I spend a lot of time outside. This leads me to believe that my conditioning would hold up at least long enough to put in a respectable effort. Plus, I’m tall. Reach is a key factor in these types of things. Lastly, I’ve had coaching. My father once told me “if you ever get in a fight, you better make the first one count.” Who can feel vulnerable with wisdom like this on their side?

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“Organs? Yes sir.” By Andrew!

Recently I paid the Canadian government seventy-five dollars to renew my driver’s license. With what amounts to roughly thirty beers or a really nice pair of shoes, I received a laminated card with my picture on it. I’m not smiling, but not frowning either. It’s kind of a dead glare that I could easily replicate should anyone contest it.

However I was unaware that my seventy five dollars would bring this feeling of unrelenting fear and an empty burning in my chest. You see, apparently when you renew a driver’s license, you’re asked to be an organ donor. They want you to give up your parts should you parish while driving with your new license.

I don’t remember getting this card when I initially passed my road test at sixteen. Perhaps they thought I was too young to make such a decision. Too immature or hasty to choose something that will affect the rest of my life. Or is it “effect”? I’ve never been really sure, but… wait, no time!

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