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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag</id>
  <title>A redder shade of neck on a whiter shade of trash</title>
  <subtitle>Kate</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Kate</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-01-22T16:06:08Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="1396507" username="ho_bag" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:149731</id>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2009-01-22T10:58:00</title>
    <published>2009-01-22T16:06:08Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-22T16:06:08Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="2" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3098/3116315696_884908a6d5_o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, I've taken very few pictures of Liberty Village. It's not for lack of trying. I first started working in the area about 10 years ago. I could go off on a long diatribe about how different it was then. How our clients cars would be broken into during the middle of the day. How I&amp;nbsp;was slugged by a 'jonesin' homeless man on the side of the face during a relatively jovial stroll through the hood. How I've&amp;nbsp;walked through countless discarded condoms on my way to work ,each one, oddly enough, coloured in a vast array of tropical hues. I've seen its resurrection. Condos, supermarkets, restaurants and, of course, a Starbucks. This picture was taken on the brink of development. Right before the Village became what it is today. It is my favourite snapshot of the neighbourhood. And as it continues to evolve and change, I'll keep this image in the back of my mind, always.&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:146853</id>
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    <title>Not even close . . . .</title>
    <published>2008-10-07T20:45:18Z</published>
    <updated>2008-10-07T20:52:36Z</updated>
    <content type="html">It's like the opening to Growing Pains. But without the Thicke. Or the whimsical theme tune. All judgements and horrible life-cliches aside, please just allow me to share this gloriously happy moment with you all. It's a rare moment in the K-wil repetoire of emoting. Savour it while it lasts for it is not unlike the mythical white unicorn with Bloddy mary riding on top. Blink and you'll miss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y144/intoxikatie/index_001_002.jpg" /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:143656</id>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2008-03-13T13:43:00</title>
    <published>2008-03-13T17:44:38Z</published>
    <updated>2008-03-13T17:44:38Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The VERVE!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;My 19 year old self is shitting her pants right now.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;So overjoyed the 'Croft decided not to blow his brains out last year.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Also, am jazzed about Ticketmasters' fuck-up-edness.&amp;nbsp; Their loss, my gain.&amp;nbsp;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:142413</id>
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    <title>With February comes obsessive behaviours</title>
    <published>2008-02-06T19:56:52Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-06T19:56:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;lj-embed id="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Friday nights are usually reserved for 'walking it out' at my house.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Error: close lj-embed tag without open tag]</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:141353</id>
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    <title>Stranger than Fiction</title>
    <published>2007-11-23T19:31:56Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-23T19:31:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;It's always surprising when loose ends get tied up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3&amp;nbsp;years ago my Uncle Ron gave me an Emitt Rhodes record, thus propelling an intimate obsession that will, no doubt, last the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;2 years ago, he passed away and his grave is neatly tucked away&amp;nbsp;in a grassy field on Emit Road.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:141260</id>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2007-11-08T10:29:00</title>
    <published>2007-11-08T15:39:59Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-08T15:39:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&amp;nbsp;Better late than never. We had over 250 kids for Halloween. Some kid kept knocking Ian in the head and calling him 'Mr. Coconut'. When we ran out of the good candy, we gave out temporary tattoos. I'm sad to report that they weren't as big of a hit as I initially thought. What's wrong with kids these days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" align="left" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y144/intoxikatie/1812501952_e42fabf130.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y144/intoxikatie/1812496942_1952c785c5.jpg" /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:140988</id>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2007-11-05T15:21:00</title>
    <published>2007-11-05T20:20:44Z</published>
    <updated>2007-11-05T20:21:17Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My biggest fear about climbing the corporate ladder is that people will look up my dress.&amp;nbsp;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:139953</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/139953.html"/>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2007-03-27T10:39:00</title>
    <published>2007-03-27T14:39:46Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-27T14:39:46Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;p&gt;the thing about the mates of state is that it seems like they have the most ideal situation. it's almost as if they rub it in my face everytime they release an album. fucking talented jerks. i don't want to take liberties with the amount of talent Ian and i have, but we're both musically inclined and even if we weren't, there are many different loopholes one can jump through to make it to superindiedarling stardom. no one has successfully outed the lute yet. and that's one instrument that needs outing. one would say it's as gay as the day is long. but I digress here, what do I have to do to be able to play in a band with the love of my life and travel the world with messy haircuts and ripped jeans and thick black eyeliner and spend nights out after shows snorting cocaine off of strange asses while holding hands and then later, after returning to our motel room, having violent 'artistic fits' that are heated with creativity and smashed champagne bottles. And all of this translates into personal life experience and also, eventually, maps itself out on our faces so that by the tender age of 34, we've succeeded in looking like we're on the verge of 'keith richards'. goals for the future. and most gals just want to get married......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we're on the move again, he and I. it's time to expand into a larger place with bigger ceilings and a couple of floors. things are in boxes all over our floor and it's not half bad. I tell you, it's not half bad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:139741</id>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2007-03-07T12:03:00</title>
    <published>2007-03-07T17:02:33Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-07T17:02:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I'm not usually one to plug our shows on Vision but there is a really great documentary about the Jonestown "suicides" or "massacres" (I guess it all depends on who you talk to about it) premiering on March 13th at 8pm. It's a co-production we did with Cineflix and is really fantastic. Jim Jones' son speaks about what happened as well as some of the survivors. And you can hear fragments of the actual recording of the "last sermon" of Jim Jones. If you have a chance, check it out. I found the whole thing emotionally moving and extremely overwhelming. But that's just me.&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="207" alt="" width="267" src="http://www.cineflix.com/images/jones1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Framed by recently released, U.S. Government information and eye witness accounts, this special follows Congressman Leo Ryan's fatal journey into "Jonestown", a community carved out of the jungles of Guyana by the followers of messianic/charismatic pastor, Jim Jones.&amp;nbsp;Using extensive and fact backed dramatic re-enactments, as well as archival footage, and heart-rending interviews, we go beyond "official reality" and&amp;nbsp;deep into the inner workings of this tragic cult and its apocalyptic end.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:138700</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/138700.html"/>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2006-10-27T13:21:00</title>
    <published>2006-10-27T17:21:56Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-27T17:21:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Rarely do I feel the urge to commit words to screen. That's so lame, the fact that I have to say screen instead of pen and who even uses the word quill anymore. that's pretentious talk if you ask me, quill, quill. eat me. i don't do much but I do alot these days. I sit and sing and run and walk and ride my bike here and there and occassionally we'll go on mini-vacations to some place that's not here. toronto seems really stale and old to me even in the grey coldness of fall. I wear glasses now. I know, tragic. Going to pick them out was like walking the plank over an ocean of hungry sharks. It's as if I've finally succomb to the inevitable fact that we all age at some point and no matter how young my mind feels, my eyes have decided to give me a blaringly obvious "head-ups" that they are getting old and senile. when i wear my glasses I feel like a different person and the world seems alittle more inaccessible which really doesn't make any sense because it should be the opposite since i can see better. And even with better vision, I still seem to miss important details. For example, just last week, I had a small huddle of people around my desk for an impromtu meeting and as I went to push a pile of papers across my desk, a small, foiled strip fell onto the floor, unbeknownst to me. I found out within seconds what it was as my boss kindly pointed it out. As I looked down on the floor all I could see was the giant black font on the tiny package, clearly indicating that, yes, this was "Gas-X". And don't ask me why I had a Gas-X. Maybe it's because Stuart recommended them to me for the bloating you get after a meal. Or maybe it's because they were on sale and I thought they were funny or maybe it's because the Russian lady who was giving me an ultrasound would peer into the screen and shake her head and say "too mich gassssss". What the shit? So now I'm the girl on 'Gas-X' and all I can think about is what everyone else thinks. Like they think I sit at my desk and fart all day until I take that miracle of a strip. bullshit. for real. But when you're faced with a situation that is going to paint you in a different light, you gotta work it out. So I said the first thing that came&amp;nbsp; to mind. It wasn't humourous. I didn't take that familar route. No, I took the road less travelled and boy was I wrong to even step foot on that road because all I could muster was "how'd that get there. that's not mine'. And so all you can do is deal with the redness in your face for the remainder of the day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:136671</id>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2006-06-01T21:42:00</title>
    <published>2006-06-02T02:04:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-02T02:04:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I can't believe they're closing the Revue. My blackened heart is breaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could be a lost cause...but it's a cause all the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://petitiononline.com/revue/"&gt;Save the Revue&lt;/a&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:134758</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/134758.html"/>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2006-04-24T12:34:00</title>
    <published>2006-04-24T16:32:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-24T16:34:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The things we do to make ourselves feel okay. I've been sort of feeling dead inside for no particular reason except all of the above and it really isn't justified. do you know how hard it is to be okay when the leaves are turning and flowers are poking up all over the place and people in the city who love the city walk around with huge smiles like giant fucking assholes, rubbing it in your face that they have giant fucking asshole smiles. who cares about spring. i'm still thinking about dying and death and all of that cliché crap that comes with dying and death and hey here i am all alive and shit and all walking around and smelling the air and i should be happy. maybe i've lived far too long in a suspended state of denial about my age and our ages and how long it will take to be okay with being okay about dying and losing people who die. &lt;br /&gt;so normally i wouldn't' do this to be normal but i went to holt renfrew to get a 'makeup consultation' by some famous make-up artist. and when i walked in it was like i got packed into a bloody female squeeze box because there were high pitched 'oohhs and ahh's and squeals and bad perfume filled the air and everywhere i walked felt like ovulation. it was insanity wrapped up in a neat little bow but it was disguised with makeup. so  i sat down and shook hands with my terribly gay artist du jour, jason, and he was from chicago and boy is my skin beautiful so let's slap on about a gallon of foundation. "i don't wear foundation" i says, " i have freckles and I don't like the idea of looking like I'm wearing a mask". "oh., well in asia, freckles are considered disgusting, did you know that?" grand. So i walked out of there tarted up and looking for a john and i'm probably exaggerating because it wasn't all that bad and in reality i ended up buying $80 worth of Stila cosmetics because i felt guilty that jason had to touch my face while i sat there with dead eyes and made bad jokes and flinched every time a girl squealed and mainly because i had freckles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm very grateful that you can't run into bad memories on the street and be forced to have a conversation with them because, hey, they're memories they're tucked safely inside your head. and then you can't say "fucking toronto is small man, there are so many of my bad memories about" or "I can't go to that bar because one of my bad memories always goes there"</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:130421</id>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-09-12T11:26:00</title>
    <published>2005-09-12T15:19:55Z</published>
    <updated>2005-09-12T15:19:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">does anyone know who's opening up for Bloc Party tonight?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:128552</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/128552.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=128552"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-08-08T15:23:00</title>
    <published>2005-08-08T19:18:25Z</published>
    <updated>2005-08-08T19:18:25Z</updated>
    <content type="html">How to Succeed in Business: years and years of dedication. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y144/intoxikatie/elasticball.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:128323</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/128323.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=128323"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-08-08T11:16:00</title>
    <published>2005-08-08T15:10:14Z</published>
    <updated>2005-08-08T15:10:14Z</updated>
    <content type="html">butt heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y144/intoxikatie/cigarettes.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:126966</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/126966.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=126966"/>
    <title>Might as well jump.</title>
    <published>2005-07-15T00:24:04Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-15T00:24:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y144/intoxikatie/jumper.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:125230</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/125230.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=125230"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-07-07T15:08:00</title>
    <published>2005-07-07T19:03:24Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-07T19:03:24Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://motomushi.de/dumb.jpg"&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:124364</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/124364.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=124364"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-06-23T10:50:00</title>
    <published>2005-06-23T14:46:37Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-23T14:46:37Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/bbcthree/tv/littlebritain/index.shtml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little Britain &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;is here. On showcase.
and the english do it again.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:123581</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/123581.html"/>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-06-15T14:52:00</title>
    <published>2005-06-15T18:48:52Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-15T18:48:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="5"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.comedycentral.com/events/stella/first_look/index.jhtml"&gt;Finally!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:122156</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/122156.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=122156"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-06-02T23:01:00</title>
    <published>2005-06-03T03:06:57Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-03T03:06:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I used to be a good writer and I used to be pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's your truth?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:121941</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/121941.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=121941"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-06-02T22:38:00</title>
    <published>2005-06-03T02:45:44Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-03T13:40:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">a good music video idea would be to film a cat laying on a bed while the music played full blast. and though many would predict that the video would be boring, I beg to differ. Have you ever seen a cat's ears move to the music. it's mesmorizing. probably moreso after 3 or 4 stella artois. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh bourgeois.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what does that even mean?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:120603</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/120603.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=120603"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-05-19T16:26:00</title>
    <published>2005-05-19T20:23:47Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-19T20:23:47Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Dinosaur Jr. at the Phoenix July 17th. Who's in?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:120529</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/120529.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=120529"/>
    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-05-19T11:46:00</title>
    <published>2005-05-19T15:44:35Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-19T15:46:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I often find myself thinking of the whoopie cushion. the history of the whoopie cushion and the man and or woman who thought of what to write on the whoopie cushion and sometimes I will think about the hundreds of dollars I wasted playing Skeeball trying to win enough tickets to be able to get a whoopie cushion. and what's a real bronx cheer anyway? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y144/intoxikatie/whoopie2.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:120289</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/120289.html"/>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-05-18T15:00:00</title>
    <published>2005-05-18T18:57:18Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-18T18:57:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">where the hell is everyone?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:ho_bag:119992</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ho-bag.livejournal.com/119992.html"/>
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    <title>ho_bag @ 2005-05-17T14:48:00</title>
    <published>2005-05-17T18:46:50Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-17T18:47:29Z</updated>
    <content type="html">pistachio nuts and the Futureheads.&lt;br /&gt;pictachio nuts and the Futureheads.&lt;br /&gt;I crack open a pistachio nut and I listen to the Futureheads.&lt;br /&gt;And that is what's been going on lately, in a nutshell. oh punny.&lt;br /&gt;Todaym Dominion had Butternut Squash Soup as the special and it was ridiculously delicious. They never have butternut squash. they always have big meaty chili or something like that and so I always walk by. But today....TODAY of all days...they had my favourite. but it will never be back again because the lady said too many people complained.&lt;br /&gt;I also rented Team America, which I have seen and laughed at but we will watch it again and again.</content>
  </entry>
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