Archive for the ‘fun stuff’ Tag

Bonjour, Mes Blog-Readers

Sunday, September 29th, 2013

Hello to all orange leaves, tumbling softly from autumn trees, hung-up laundry, and people from distant planets.
It’s been a while. I’m sorry. Many things have happened in the past few months, and on top of that I may have… lost my password… so I can only access my blog on my grandparents’ computer due to a confusing series of events, and therefore my blogging is going to be a little stilted in future, unfortunately. Nevertheless, I have NOT disappeared off the face of the planet. I do continue to exist. Probably. I’m going to work on a better blog post to make up for the past months, (hopefully), but for now I will happily direct you to the Youtube channel I’ve recently set up. Find it here. I’ve decided to pursue a career in the art of video gaming. I’m currently uploading the first video (only 3978 minutes left!) and I have no real idea of when it’ll be up, except that it may be next week. Or later.

In other news, the new Arcade Fire is coming out at the end of October, just before my birthday, so you know… If you want to get me something… and also I’m turning sixteen, which I find so weird. Sixteen is one of those landmark ages that everyone always talks about being really special, and it’s the age that about every single teen fantasy character ever is. I don’t think anything particularly exciting is going to happen to me, though. I really want to get my driver’s license, buy one of those 60s style Volkswagen buses, kidnap my friend and ride across the country playing music at little roadside restaurants.
What else? Well, it’s fall again, my favorite time of year. It’s a beautiful day outside, and laundry is hanging in the backyard, blowing slightly in the breeze. Things feel pretty good. I remember when I started this blog I wasn’t doing so well, but that seems like another lifetime. I’m back at school now, and much happier than I’ve been for a pretty long time.
Here’s to things staying this good. Yours truly (and I mean it this time), ~Onceabasementdog


The Terrible Teen Section, Part Two

Friday, July 12th, 2013

Hello to all elephants standing on mushrooms, caterpillar men also on mushrooms, and half-eaten bowls of raspberries sitting on my computer desk.
I don’t know if you recall the first time I went over the Terrible Teen Section. It was quite a while ago, and now I’m living in a different part of town and going to a whole different library. However, despite my best efforts, I have been unable to glean any information out of the librarians as to WHY, exactly, no matter where I go I just can’t escape the terrible teen section. It’s like it follows me. I can’t avoid it, it and its horrible books.
Don’t you know what I mean? Haven’t you ever walked around the teen section? All you get are blaring eyefuls of vampire-romance this and kissy-lovey-dovey relationship crap that. I feel like there must be good teen books somewhere, but they’re buried three hundred feet underground in a cave infested with man-eating bats in a treasure chest, and there’s a note that says ‘Only the Worthy Are Allowed Here.’
Because look. I’m tired of crappy books. I go to the library to find worthwhile books, not to gaze helplessly at the cover of “The Vampire Story Where They Make Out In A Valley Every Five and a Half Pages”. I’ve read that one. It’s not so good.
But I don’t know what to do about it. I think the world just needs stricter publishing cridentials, that’s all: like for instance, only publishing books that have at least some semblance of quality to them. If that happened, we’d never run into this kind of monstrosity:

Oh Gawwwd...

I mean WHY!?! Why? Why why why why why why whyyyy? This is the sort of thing that makes me want to find some sand and stick my head in it until I can face the world again, which would probably take quite a while. I just can’t believe people read this sort of thing. Granted, I didn’t actually open the book and read any of it (my brain would have been instaneously vaporized probably), but I can tell, all right, just by that cover. I can tell quite profusely that it isn’t the sort of thing I like to read.
What’s even worse about it was that there was a whole shelf full of these books, all by the same author, with titles that varied in degrees of utter horror. 1 being mild gagging sensations and nausea, 10 being instant vaporization due to exposure to lameness.

And then I saw this thing. At first glance, it doesn’t seem so horrible– and I agree, it isn’t. Until you read what’s over the title.

Is he a boy? Or… is he… a beast?
Omygawd I don’t care.

Now the last one is the worst, in my opinion. It outdoes Boys R Us in every way– which, I know, you wouldn’t think would be even remotely possible. But it does. There’s just something about it– I think it’s the complete and utter lack of any sort of creativity or originality. Everything about it goes against what I live for, what I fight for, what I would gladly die for, which is the appreciation of good books. Obviously whoever let this get published was not an appreciator. It’s just… it’s just so bad. It hurts me at a profound level. The frilly title, the models on the cover, it all fills me with a sadness I can barely explain. It’s like the worst after school special ever that two fifty year old men in suits think kids will like.
It is…

Everything is wrong with this.

Gah. Bleh.
(That’s the sound of me dying.)
No, but really. I mean, who lets this stuff get published? I think whoever it is, they need to be thrown into the underground cavern with the man eating bats and the treasure chest of good books and left there for a while to regain their wits.
I guess some people just don’t mind as much what they read. But I do. I most certainly do. I am a literature snob who goes around sneakily taking pictures of silly books in the public library and giggling to myself like an escaped lunatic. Maybe the point of all this isn’t that there needs to be less terrible books in the world, but that I need desperately to find something valuable to do with my time.

Oh, well. Such is life. Good-bye, and Blog-Reader, before you go– remember that there ARE good books out there, no matter how scarce, and that among the fields of First Dates and Boys R Uses and Werelings there can be found the shining golden form of something worthwhile to read.
Yours truly as never, mwahaha, ~Onceabasementdog

My Brain, and Other Curiosities

Saturday, May 11th, 2013

Hello to all cats, valiantly attempting to find the newly sprouted bean plants and eat them, slippers on floors, and harmonicas in the key of C.

Part of the reason I haven’t been blogging much lately is because I got this video game called Skyrim, became desperately obsessed with it, sucked up all the internet time, and then lay shivering in a corner from Skyrim-withdrawal. It was a dark time. Also, it’s spring, and I’ve been enjoying the springiness. I’m going to start softball on Wednesday, and boy am I nervous– last night I had one of my super-realistic anxiety-ridden dreams about it. I went to some sort of tryout in a large abandoned parking lot in Montreal, where I had to wait in line all day for various skill assessments and never got a turn, and then there was a giant squid that ate everyone except me and the coach, who blamed it on me and killed me with a softball made of fire.
I figure Wednesday won’t be QUITE that bad.
Anyway, spring is nice– it feels more like summer than anything, though. Spring no longer exists in this part of Ontario– it’s been burned away by global warming, is what I figure. It’s nice to be out and about, though, and tomorrow my friends and I are going to Comiccon to be nerdy and stuff. Wil Wheaton from Big Bang Theory (and Star Trek TNG) is going to be there and I’m going to try and get his autograph, possibly on my hat. I’ve got another hat that was signed by Brett Spiner last year. I am so cool, man. I’m going to take pictures, too. I won’t even be embarrassed by the fact that my entourage is three nerdy teenage boys, two with braces, all in shorts and sandals. One possibly in shorts and sandals with socks. I love my friends.

I’ve been feeling good lately. The world seems promising to me. Everything seems funnier, too– I could fill up a whole volume with funny things I’ve noticed, which I guess is sort of what this blog is, but I swear– there’s funny coming out of my nose lately. I can’t keep it in. There’s way too much funny. And most of it isn’t even funny, it just is in my brain, but the minute I say it out loud I realize how non-funny it really is, and then everyone looks at me and politely doesn’t say anything. Up there in my brain, it’s like a never-ending, not entirely well-directed B movie.
In fact, if you took a diagram of my brain, it would probably look a bit like this:
my brain

I forgot stuff like for instance “family” and “friends” and “good-heartedness” but let’s say they take up the other side. This side that you see is the left hemisphere or something.
So I’ll see ya later, Blog-Reader. I’ll probably put some pictures up from Nerdfest tomorrow, and who knows, maybe you’ll even get a post about how Wednesday will go. If there’s giant squids…
… I promise I’ll tell you about it.
Yours truly, the most truest of them all, ~Onceabasementdog

Gregariously Awful Fan Art

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2013

Hello to all fruit trucks passing by (note: obscure music reference), holes in the carpet, catnip mice, and bumps on the ceiling.
Well, it’s yet another ridiculously frigid day here in Onceabasementdogville. I got a call from the people who work in our co-op this morning, and the guy talked to me in French for a few minutes, before I had the chance to tell him I was only understanding twenty percent of what he was saying. What I got from the conversation was, ‘les toilettes sont geles’ and something about the heaters not working. So great. That’s awesome.
Anyway, so as I write this he’s in here poking around looking at the frozen toilets, or whatever.
I was going to talk about gregariously awful fan art. Yes, that’s right.
Well, you see, I draw sometimes. Nothing special. I draw dragons and guys with swords and vests and cool haircuts– I’m no master artist, but I am in some way talented, I do believe. Anyhow, I have an account on Instagram, and DeviantArt. What I find on both sites is that there’s a heckuva lot of fan art. Now what is fan art, exactly? Basically it’s a whole lot of teenagers scribbling out kissing characters from Japanese manga. Sometimes it can be pretty good– other times, it isn’t very good at all. Sometimes it’s so bad I want to run outside in the snow in my bare feet, hit my head against a tree, and scream at nothing in particular.
Like, for instance. The other day I was glancing at fan art for The Kane Chronicles. For no… particular reason. And what did I see? Well, for one, lots of kissing. Shudder. And what else? Lots. Of. ANUBIS.
Who’s Anubis? It’s actually a jackal-headed Egyptian god. But in this age, it’s been reinvented as a very dreamy hero from a kid’s series of books by Rick Riordan, author of Percy Jackson. And he’s SOOO dreamy that all the fourteen and fifteen year old girls just can’t help drawing him and putting him up on fan art sites. And that’s fine. On one level I enjoy staring at endless pictures of a dreamy death god. But on another level, it makes me want to scrape my brains out.
I was going to show you some examples of terrible fan art, but Instagram won’t let me steal its pictures. Jerks.
There’s actually little point to this blog post… in case you haven’t noticed. I feel like I need to vent about how bad fan art can be, and how ridiculous it is that there’s 586 thousand and something pictures of Naruto (a Japanese manga and anime) on Instagram all by, probably, teenagers, and most of them are pretty gregariously awful. The kissing. The KISSING! Yeeeauauuughgghhhhhh…
All right, let me just say this. Let me just– just listen. Okay? Just sit yourself down and listen to this.
In comparison to all those never-ending hordes of hormone-crazed fifteen year old girls, (the Hydes to my Jekyll), I feel oddly superior. I’m probably not, but it feels like it. I’m probably hopelessly conceited. But I don’t spend my time trying to think up the most painfully embarrassing drawing I can possibly create. I have healthier obessions. (I guess.)
My Healthier Obessions:
1. Star Trek: The Next Generation.
2. Collecting books.
3. Arcade Fire.
4. Baseball stats. (Joe Mauer hit .354…)
5. Dreamy death gods.
6. The openings to TV shows. I have the entire Avatar The Last Airbender opening down by heart. Even the punctuation…
‘Long ago, the four nations lived together in peace. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the avatar, master of all four elements, could stop them. But when the world needed him most… he vanished. A hundred years passed, and my brother and I discovered the new avatar, an airbender named Aang. Although Aang’s airbending skills are great, he still has a lot to learn before he’s ready to save anyone. But I believe… Aang can save the world.’

Wow, am I off topic or what? I’d better get out of here. ~Onceabasementdog

I Do Like Dragons, However

Saturday, January 5th, 2013

Hello to all bad Bruce Springsteen impersonations, people sitting on record players, diamond dogs, and fifteen year olds shamelessly stuck in the 1980s.

The other day I finally got my record player working IT’S FANTASTIC. We got it from my granddad a long time ago, but I could never figure out how to force it to make sounds. I figured it out, am very proud of myself, and now as I write this I’m listening to Bruce Springsteen. Why? Well, not because I LIKE Bruce Springsteen, but because somebody said the lead singer of Arcade Fire sings like him sometimes and I had to check for myself to see if this was true or not. Actually, Arcade Fire is about a billion and three times better than Bruce Springsteen, but don’t tell Bruce Springsteen I said that.

Anyway, it’s a lonely winter morning, and it’s very sunny and blue and snowy out there. I seem to be suffering from a particularly nasty bout of ADD today, because I keep forgetting what I’m writing about and turning to smile appreciatively at my record player, spinning on. Sometimes I’ve got attention problems, but don’t tell my old teachers, because they definitely never noticed.

So… what was I going to… oh yes, I’m reading this book. It’s called Eragon, and it’s about dragons. And a boy who rides a dragon. And evil sorcerers. While questionably original, it’s not that bad. There were moments when I felt like kicking it out the window, but all in all I’m enjoying it, even though I don’t love it. One of the main characters just died, and that is not cool, because I liked him more than I liked Eragon, whose perspective the book is written in. I don’t actually like Eragon– he’s annoying, and he talks like he’s forty, even though he’s supposed to be fifteen. He also keeps hurting himself. I’m kind of tired of hearing about his agony and slowly healing abrasions and cuts.

I mean, I really like dragons, but. I don’t like this book as much as I hoped I would. Dragons are fun, they’re enormous fire-breathing lizards, what more do you need, but Eragon is just so unoriginal that it grates on my nerves. The cities and towns all have these super-fantasy-style names, like for instance, Uru’baen, Ilia Feon, Doru Araeba, Farthen Dur, Carvahall. I’m sorry, how do I pronounce Uru’baen, exactly, and why must it have an apostrophe? What’s with fantasy names and apostrophes, anyway? Do they put them in there because it sounds foreign and unusual? Okay, I don’t need no apostrophes though, thanks.

I take back my meanness to Bruce Springsteen, that ‘I’m On Fire’ song is really good.

There is nothing else to say. I reccommend you check out Team Hunchback, my other blog, because it’s mildly amusing and pointless and absurd. The link’s in the post under this one. So, now I’ve got to watch my record player adoringly for a few hours.

Yours somewhat sincerely, (BRISINGR!), ~Onceabasementdog.

Impersonating Fictional Characters Is Fun!

Thursday, December 13th, 2012

Hello to all feathers, drifting softly through the sunlit air, coconuts on beaches, and airships caught in hurricanes.

If you’re on an airship caught in a hurricane: first, check to make sure you’re not just a reference of Skybreaker. If you’re not, then try flying above the hurricane into clearer sky. If this is not possible, batton down the hatches, or whatever you do on airships, get ready the parachutes or lifeboats, in case you’re flying over the sea. Send out a distress signal for help. And take a picture while you’re at it– I need stuff to blog about, thanks.

So, it’s a moderately cold Tuesday (or… Wednesday?) here in Onceabasementdogville, and obviously I’m VERY up to date, because I really do know what day it is and everything. Lately I’ve been avoiding my blog as much as possible, due to, well, stress mainly, because I’ve got like TWO DOZEN followers holy moly, jeez, where’d you all come from? And that’s a lot of expectations to satisfy. I feel like I have to be funny every time I blog, and sometimes it just doesn’t come to me. I try, but the funny plays a wicked game– sometimes I can write for ages and all of it’s mildly amusing, and sometimes I just stare deeply into the screen trying to desperately come up with a way to make something funny out of the word bookmark. Maybe I shouldn’t have been trying to make something funny out of the word bookmark. It’s just… not a funny word. Book-mark. Book… mark. It marks books, okay? That’s all it does.

Anyway, today I was getting into politics. I could like, talk about that… but no. I have something more interesting to relay to you, dear Blog-Reader.

It’s no secret two thirds of my waking life is taken up with staring at walls and scribbling sketches of dreamy fantasy heroes and then throwing them out because I feel like no one should ever look at them. (I’m probably right. Even MY eyes hurt when I look at them, and I created them.) So often, in the midst of this extreme wall-staring boredom, I do crazy things. Sometimes I interview the ladies who work at the local bookstore with my camera and pretend I’m doing a ‘documentary about bookstores’ so it isn’t so weird. Sometimes I dance in frightful, spasmatic circles in my room while I listen to Arcade Fire songs. Often, I take up residence on the chair in my room and gaze at the walls. Today, though, I held an interview– with myself.

Except, it wasn’t technically with myself. I mean, it was. But I was pretending to be this character from a Kenneth Oppel book. It was fun. I must be losing my mind, but it really was fun– I think I’ve got some strange, best-kept-secret talent for impersonating random characters from fantasy books, or sometimes from TV shows. I do a mean Drusilla from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Anyway, it was the middle of the day and the house was empty, and my sister Little Girl of Horrors was out with my dad, and I had a sudden itch to interview myself with my old analog camera. I’ve done that in the past– conjured up imaginary characters and interviewed them. You don’t even want to know how weird it’s gotten. So I pulled on a black coat and assumed the persona of a fantasy character. I owned it, seriously. I hear they’re making a movie.


Yes, yes, I was assuming the character of Victor Frankenstein. Maybe that’s the absolute height of weirdness, but who cares? It was fun and as long as nobody ever sees that video, I won’t mind that it exists.

There’s probably something else of interest to talk about. Dunno. If you like books, then you’ll be glad to know I like books, too, and I’m reading this one called ‘The Scorpio Races’ by the lady who wrote that series that tried to imitate Twilight, except it was about werewolves. I never picked up that series, but The Scorpio Races is pretty good, so far. There’s something to it, anyway. I don’t like that the heroine is kind of lame, but she has her moments of coolness, so that sort of makes up for that. The hero is the usual teen fiction romantic interest stereotype. Calm, collected, powerful– can command man-eating horses. And by the way he would ‘be almost handsome if his features weren’t quite so sharp.’ Well, that’s that. I’m glad I know.

So, that book I’m trying to get published is still floating around not being published yet, and I’m still waiting for the possible rejection letter. The heroine in it is NOT lame at all, and I wish more heroines would be that way. They say girls are being better represented in books these days, but I still don’t quite believe it.

Anyway. I feel all sleepy and bored. I was going to write a poem about bookmarks, but all I can come up with is this meager offering:

Once I owned me a bookmark;

Twas eaten along with me book

By an angry book-eating shark.

There you are. ~Onceabasementdog

The Terrible Teen Section

Friday, November 23rd, 2012

Hello to all USB sticks sitting in places where I’ll definitely forget about them, dogs on airplanes, and solar-powered monkeys.

Ah! It’s almost winter again! Don’t you just love winter? What with the holidays and the snow and the ice and the darkness and the NEVER-ENDING FRIGIDITY–

Never mind. I hate Onceabasementdogville. I want to live in a volcano or something. I bet it would be nice and warm THERE.

So, I like libraries. I do. I think I like them because they’re quiet, and familiar, and they always smell like books. (Well, that’s a surprise.) There’s a library pretty close to my house, and I bike there sometimes to peruse the various sections that I find an interest in. Usually I end up gazing blankly at the teen section, trying to decide which book I should take out, My Love Is A Beautiful Vampire, or The Day Everyone Turned Into Robots, solely on the basis of which one looks less horrible. Because, see, the teen section at my public library is an actual hell of paper and ink. I’ve only taken out maybe three good books from that wall of blatant torture, and they weren’t even fantastic or anything. I don’t know why the teen section has to be so horrible, it just is. I still have suspicions about the librarian hiding all the good books from me when I drop by.

Anyway, a while back I took these pictures of some books from the Terrible Teen Section. Assuming they don’t burn out your eyes the minute you look at them, I think you’ll be able to examine them and understand why exactly my faith in literature and human kind in general is plummeting:

Oh, but this is just a taste of the many horrors of the Terrible Teen Section, my dear Blog-Reader!

I almost have no words for this one. But I’ll try. So, you’ve got this invisible boyfriend. And you know, it causes all sorts of complications, I assume. I mean, all the other girls can SEE their boyfriends! But she can’t! Oh my God it’s so awkward!

Next one. It’s almost worse… somehow.

But what does that even MEAN? Is she more real than your average Joe? Or what? I can tell you one thing, though, with absolute honesty:

This is the best title I’ve ever seen.

Now, here’s the last one. Brace yourself…

Audrey, wait!
What? Why? What’s HAPPENING to her?

So, there you have it. If that doesn’t convince you modern teen books are spiralling (apparently literally) into absurdity, I don’t know what will.

Yours semi-truly, only when I’m not making fun of things, (and that’s never), ~Onceabasementdog

Ahhh, Fridays and Free Trials

Friday, November 2nd, 2012

Hello to all rocks sitting in puddles, leaves, wonderful, wonderful free music, and letters on pages.

Today I have discovered the eighth wonder of the world, known as ‘Rdio’. It’s like a way, way better version of iTunes, where all the music is FREE. I swear to God! It is! I’m not being paid to tell lies! I stumbled on it and it was like, come see all our free music! And I was like, No way, man. And it was like, No seriously! So I signed up for a free trial, and now I’m listening to awesome music and feeling very, very happy.

Ahh, free trials. Love them.

So it’s a Friday. I like Fridays. Just because they stand for the end of a week, and it makes me happy. Everything makes me happy today! Hurrah!

Right now I’m listening to Fleet Foxes, and my cat really likes it. He was sniffing the speakers, seeming very interested. Well, the cat’s got good taste in music, apparently. He also likes Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros, but as soon as I started singing along he ran away. Huh. Anyway, I’m worried that I’m paying for all this somehow, but it’s probably true to what it claims, that I get like a two day trial for free or whatever. But I don’t care at the moment. I mean, Fleet Foxes! Magnetic Zeros! The Shins! Golly gee, I’m in alternative music heaven. Sigh.

I went to the Zombie Walk on the weekend. There’s no actual zombies, at least, as far as I know. Hmm. But anyway, basically what happens is a couple hundred people dress up and pour fake blood over themselves and walk around moaning and screaming BRAINS! and we walk from one part of the city to the other, and lots of people take pictures of us. I dressed up as a steampunk zombie. I was previously going to upload pictures and stuff but I have little to no patience lately for even trivial tasks, so I can’t make myself upload them all. See, this is why I never did my homework when I was at school. Ain’t got no work ethic, nope.

I feel seriously giddy. Giddy with happiness over good music. I’m listening to Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. I showed George Harrison one of their live performances and he literally could not handle how weird they are. In his defense they are pretty weird– a group of  hippy fellows who seemed to have stumbled straight out of either Burning Man or an abandoned house somewhere. But man, do they make good music.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just take to the road and live out a life as a musician. Maybe all this music is affecting my brain and making me crazy, but doesn’t that sound sort of cool? Just wandering here and there, playing songs, with no responsibility, no place to go, no things to do. I think that’s actually what the Magnetic Zeros do, pretty much. It’s just the problem is, I would never be able to convince George Harrison, who’s in a band with me, to take to the road and be traveling hippies.


Oh, whatever. One can dream. For now I’ll just have to live a boring mundane existence without the thrill of the open road.

Jeez, somebody get me off the music. Yours as ever somewhat truly,  ~Oncebasementdog.

Light and Fluffy and Meaningless

Monday, October 22nd, 2012

Hello to all sub-par high school rappers, dogs running after frisbees, small birds, and pumped up kicks. 

So. You all missed me. Right? You were like ‘Jeez! She hasn’t made a new blog post in like forever, we ought to storm her house with torches and pitchforks!’ Well, no need to fear or create an angry mob, I’ve returned, and I foresee many satirical and lightly amusing sentences to come. Read on my friends.

Why was I gone for a couple weeks, you ask? Well, let’s just say I saved the world. Oh yes, I did indeed. I saved the world by going on long bike rides, listening to music, and roaming the internet looking for bizarre Indie music videos. I’m so proactive! If I wasn’t in the world, why… well… things would be the same? 

Anyway, now that I’m on this paragraph, I realize I really don’t have much to say. I mean, I could detail exactly how I saved the world– but who wants to know? It’s a story for another day. I’m all out of serious writings. I’ve spent too much time lingering on sad realistic fiction books lately, and I need to fight it back with a light and fluffy, nice meaningless ramble. So what’s light and fluffy and meaningless? Sea monkeys? Soap operas? 

Well, anyway, the sad realistic fiction I’ve been reading all came from the terrible teen section at the local library. I swear they hide all the good books from me when I come in. How is it actually possible to  have an entire wall devoted completely to teen books, and yet, a very small margin of them are even readable? I mean, it’s not like I really know anything about any of them, but just by their covers I can tell they’re awful. And you might say, well, you can’t judge a book by the cover, but, OH REALLY? What about a cover where two pretty teenagers are lying on the grass together and the title is ‘Why Don’t You Kiss Me Now?’ 

I think it’s safe to say that one needs to be burned. Or at least, I won’t ever read it.

So, anyway. The sad realistic fiction book was The Goats. But it wasn’t about goats. It was pretty good, but I didn’t like the ending– it was about these kids who run away from their summer camp, and at the end they just headed tamely up to the people trying to track them down and get them back to their parents. I thought for sure they were going to keep living in the woods. But they totally wussed out and didn’t. Jeez. And there wasn’t even dragons or vampires or fairies or anything– it was just so… realistic. Bleh! 

On a personal side of the writing spectrum, I’m currently trying to figure out how to write a modernization of the classic Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde story. My version is set in the same time period, the 1800s, but Dr. Jekyll is a kid and it’s a lot more light-hearted. I mean, people die and he goes nuts at the end. But it’s still light-hearted. I’m also doing a Peter Pan rehash where Peter Pan is the antagonist and it comes from the point of view of one of the lost boys. I’m not sure if that one will work, but it’s pretty cool so far. Also the Mother is going to send away my book, Vaudeville, to a publisher– so it’s actually possible that I may become an actual honest-to-goodness writer, if they like Vaudeville and want to print it. Hurrah! Remember, the author of that awesome book you’ll definitely be buying and enjoying sometime in the future was me, Onceabasementdog.

Not much else is new on this end. I’m trying to become a rapper but I have such a pitiful teenage girl voice that every time I hear myself on a recording I cringe. It’s just better when I sing. Oh! That reminds me to remind you to check out The Sepia Trees on Youtube. Tis our band. We are semi-awesome. Seriously. 

Also, I might as well go on to command you to: 

1. Follow me on Twitter @onceabdog 

2. Follow me on Instagram @Parrotqueen. 

3. Compost what you can instead of throwing it out.

4. Be kind to sea monkeys. They’re… well… I guess they’re not exactly ‘people too’ but whatever, close enough.

5. And, uh, if you read The Goats, keep in mind they’re not goats.

Yours as ever sort of sincerely, sort of, ~Onceabasementdog. 



Further Adventures of the Biking Girl

Wednesday, September 19th, 2012

Hello to all tuskless walruses, pianos lingering over people’s heads, granola bars, flamingo-people and parrots on the shoulders of pirates.

I like going on bike rides. It’s no lie. There’s endless bike paths to follow around Onceabasementdogville, and the stores are so accessible, not like I have any money to access them for. I spent at least half an hour digging around the nuclear wasteland of my room for coins to buy a bottle of pop with, and came up with a loonie, ten cents and an American quarter. I also found a spiderweb where a spiderweb shouldn’t be and a weird bug that I’ll pretend I never saw.

So I donned my hat and pulled on my sweater and went out the door, Arcade Fire blaring in my earphones. The plan? Coffee. To waken my zombified, sleeping-in, school-missing brains, that is. So I went down to the Tim Hortons, squinting at the display board to try and figure out if my measly dollar-and-ten cents and American quarter would get me a coffee. I think I have bad eyesight, because it took me forever to figure out if the dollar and thirty-something cents was thirty-something or eighty-something. I still don’t know, I just dropped all my coins in the cashier’s hand and hoped it was good. I stared at him and hoped he’d overlook the American quarter, because honestly, I don’t know if they even take American money here where I am, not in America.

Anyway, I got my coffee, and went out and sat on the curb. I took out my notebook and started writing a little story. By the way, coffee tastes just like it smells: disgusting. The story I’m writing is about a girl living in the early nineteen hundreds. I don’t know what to call it, but I think it’s about stars or something. I took off again, having forced down two thirds of the coffee, which was all I could take. You know, I think caffeine doesn’t affect me that much, because after I drank it I went really really really really really fast on my bike and raced a squirrel but he was faster than me and ran up a tree which wasn’t fair and there was this BUZZING in my head and I can’t figure out what it was but anyway the big hill before the bridge was no problem, I went up it like, in five seconds flat, I assume my legs are getting stronger.

On the way home I went down the little path that went in front of all the big houses. There was this old lady walking by and she stepped aside and get this, I KNEW she would say something, and she did. She said in the haughty tones of a person from the rich end of town, “This is NOT a bike path.” Oh, okay. And I’m NOT going to make fun of you on my blog or anything.

For some reason my thoughts are going way faster than I can type and trying to write ‘me’ always come out ‘my.’ I don’t know why this is happening.

At one part on my bike ride these girls on a scooter passed me and they oinked at me, all right, whatever. I’m not a pig. At least I don’t think so. No, I’m pretty sure.

Jeez I think my head’s about to blow off. No more coffee ever for me, that was a bad idea.

I’m sure there’s more to say but running in circles for a long time is what I plan to do now. Okay, see you later, yours truly and stuff, ~Onceabasementdog.