Documenting our worlds with cheap cell phone cameras.

Now, I am no fan of Twilight, but I am a fan of graphic design and book design, and I can’t very well blame the designer for a creepy stalker book, now can I? So on behalf of the book designer of my least favorite vampire series, I cry foul!

Here is the original cover for Twilight:

And here are two books I saw at The World’s Biggest Bookstore:

Bonus (and I am not crying foul on this because it is awesome):

I don’t like fliers/flyers. I don’t like having small handbills tossed into my mail slot and onto my apartment floor, where they are then picked up and deposited directly into a receptacle for paper recycling. I believe in reducing waste before having to recycle it. Thus, I posted a sign on my door that reads, “No Fliers.”

According to the OED, “flier” is an accepted variation of “flyer,” and it just turns out that “fliers” fit better onto the 8.5×11 sheet of recycled paper I was using to make the sign. Thus, I went with the less common spelling. The following battle ensued:

Harrumph! Try to tell me how to spell. Excuse me?

You know, some folks spell “tire” with a “y” for heaven’s sake. And you don’t see me sullying their signs!

I spotted a Bentley on Bleeker Street. There wasn’t anyone filming, no one was watching it, and I don’t think it’s the typical ride of Canadian drug dealers (please correct me if I’m wrong). The origin of the Bentley in St. James Town will remain a mystery:

Just around the corner, bottom line prices!

And May Day posters:

People have the power!

Trapped at Sherbourne… There’s almost always something blocking this exit. Once I saw a bicycle shoved in there.

Filming in the neighbourhood again. Another cop show, I imagine. SJT makes for a good slum location. Because it is one.

A lonely shoe left on the platform. I wonder what its owner wore on to the train?

Arriving at Museum. Museum Station.

Accumulated Christmas season libations—post libation.

Michelle has a new obsession: Maneki Neko, also known as the Lucky Cat. She has a mug with a bunch of waving Lucky Cats on it, and was inspired to make some of her own using Sculpey. She made one resembling the Punk, and then decided that she would like to make cats for some of our friends and family.

The first in this series was made for Ms. Corinne Cupcake. If you check out her website you will have some idea of her tastes. Which is why we decided that Lady Cupcake’s Maneki Neko should be…different. Rather than wearing a coin or holding a lantern, we gave this dark kitty something a bit more macabre to do:

Yes, that is a severed head. Crafted by yours truly, as a matter of fact. I think I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself.

With the right lighting, it’s a bit of a creepy sight!

We’re giving the Maneki Neko to Corinne today. I hope she finds it fit to take a place alongside the creepy headless dolls, corpse children, and monster puppets that line her shelves.

Tomorrow Stark and I have to buckle down and finally take down our Christmas decorations. I know, I know, it’s the end of January already. But I am encouraged by the knowledge that no one else in our building has been on the ball, either.

I found the evidence of a Christmas tree corpse having been dragged down the stairs last week:

And this stuck to the door where all the pine needles were littered:

Serve Canada Youth.

There are all sorts of weird and wonderful things for sale in Toronto.

For up to zero percent off, you can get…

A disembodied ass.

And imprisoned French maid.

A one way ticket to dehydration!

A mysteriously vague product termed “Feminine Paper” (not to be confused with “Household Paper”)

A vintage bra/shoulder pad combo (how have I lived all this time without this product?)

And some quality beer in the Cabernet aisle.

Okay, let me explain my train of thought while taking a photo of this bottle of Schlitz, the most unfortunately named beer in history. When I was a kid, my parents would often reminisce about defunct beer brands, most notably PBR (which has since had a very annoying hipster renaissance), Rheingold and Schlitz. My father would talk about working the beer pavilion at the 1964 New York World’s Fair and my mother would then sing the Rheingold song:

In my head, these stories have also become conflated with the Miss Subway beauty contests, for reasons I can’t quite figure out. Maybe because I have put all the Forgotten New York nostalgia into one special place in my mind, or maybe because ballots used to be available at stores that sold Schlitz… it remains a mystery.