AC/DC - Black Ice, why the exclusivity?

AC/DC basically representing everything I love about music, they almost had me begging for this new album, the first one in over eight years, the last one being Stiff Upper Lip in 2000. I have to admit that I was a bit doubtful at first, AC/DC might be a legendary rock band, but they’re getting pretty old, as Angus Young is the youngest at 53 years old and Brian Johnson just hit 61. Now we all know what a life filled with sex, drugs and rock’n roll can do to you. I mean, that’s why people retire, right? Well, I’m glad to hear that I was wrong to doubt them: Black Ice is good, very good.

Black Ice sounds exactly like what AC/DC has been since Brian Johnson joined the group in 1980. At that point, the band lost its punk approach (just listen to “Let There be Rock”), led by ex-signer Bon Scott, to move towards a more musically-refined style (check out Stiff Upper Lip). They didn’t lose their legendary raw energy, they matured. Black Ice is still pure AC/DC, just don’t expect something from the Bon Scott era!

Most of the songs are original enough, although “War Machines” sounds exactly like “Given the Dog a Bone”, but that song came out 28 years ago, on Back in Black. (You can literally sing “Given the Dog a Bone” during the song’s chorus. ) Another hint of unoriginality: 3 songs on the album have the words “Rock ‘n Roll” in their title. On the other hand, “Stormy May Day” features slide guitar riffs, which are refreshing enough, considering Angus Young usually doesn’t like to add any effect to his guitar playing; he prefers raw intensity to pedal effects and whatnots. Also, "Skies on Fire" is one of these instant classics songs from which you can feel the badass attitude AC/DC is capable of, but doesn't demonstrate very often.

By listening to each and every song they have to offer on their latest output, I’m impressed by how well every band member experiments with their instruments. Just take Cliff Williams, for example: when you think “AC/DC”, you usually think “easy bass lines”, 2 or 3 notes max. Well, I don’t know if he took lessons or something, but he definitely improved since last time. Songs like “Skies on Fire” and “She Likes Rock ‘n Roll” have pretty interesting bass patterns. He follows the guitars a lot more, instead of following the bass drum like he used to. Brian Johnson delivers some pretty good vocals on this album, and although his voice is either a hit or miss for most people, his performance is great, almost touching, on “Rock ‘n Roll Dream”, as the softer song allows more focus on the vocals. As for the rest of the band, Phil Rudd is as tight as always, holding the same beat for over 4 minutes each time. Malcolm Young’s rhythm guitar is perhaps one of the best in the genre and the sound of his brother’s guitar blends perfectly with his. Angus Young is still the little devil he’s always been. He doesn’t neglect the guitar solos either, and that’s where he separates from the rest. Most older lead guitarists often end up not putting the effort, relying on their popularity to sell albums. Angus knows intensity sells.

Talking about selling, this is something I just can’t take out of my head… Black Ice ended up being a Wal-Mart exclusive in the United States. Now, as a Canadian, that doesn’t affect me, but it’s just the fact that consumers don’t get the liberty to buy the band’s latest album at any other store just doesn’t sound right. You might know by now AC/DC is one of the only bands not showing up on iTunes, along with The Beatles (although both of them are ranked #1 and #2 for republished album sales), but I can understand that, as Angus said himself that AC/DC doesn’t make singles, but albums, and that each song deserves to be on the album (as iTunes users often buy single songs instead of full albums). Yet, the multi-album deal AC/DC signed with SonyBMG Music not only keeps them from selling singles this time, but limits them to a single nationwide store brand. This is clearly sound like a paid exclusivity from Wal-Mart’s side: “hey, let’s piss off the consumer, it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t have the choice anyway and he’ll still come here to buy the album!” At least indie stores can sell the vinyl version of Black Ice. I don’t think AC/DC cares much for the exclusivity deal, as their record label has the final word in this kind of business. They rely a lot more on world tours anyway.

That being said, the album isn’t exclusive to any store in Canada, so go grab the album at any store you want to go to. If AC/DC fits your musical tastes, I recommend it.

Rock on!

Btw, the first picture is the "Yellow logo" version of the album, which I have. The most common one is the "Red logo". There is also a "White logo" and a 4th one, which is exclusive to Wal-Mart in Canada, the "Blue logo".

P.S. J'ai été quelque peu influencé par Le Kevin qui, à côté de moi, passe pour un maître de la critique musicale.

The art of operating a cash register

I've been playing this game on my PS3 lately, it's called SingStar. My girlfriend and I decided to buy it because we both like karaoke. I got quite into the game and so did she, but what I didn't know was that my whole family would soon become fans of the game. It even has it's own online store (SingStore) so that you can download additional songs for it (I spent a few bucks on those, 1,49$ at a time). So the game costed 59.99+tax for the game and 2 microphones, which isn't a bad price for a game that comes with peripherals. The mics have audio jacks that you plug into a USB adaptor, so I could plug them into an amp, good stuff.

Here's the thing, you've seen the PS3 Eye camera in that little YouTube video, right? Well Future Shop had this sale going on: SingStar+PS3 Eye for 79.99+tax. Now I don't really need that camera, but it's usually 40-45$ everywhere, and everyone knows I can't resist a good deal when I see one. My plan was to buy the bundle at Future Shop and return the newly acquired SingStar game at EBgames, since I bought the game recently, I'd still get a refund for a sealed game. The PS3 Eye camera would end up costing me 20$ instead of 40-45$.

My mom woke me up at 9am so we could finalize our passport forms and finally get them in time for my trip to NYC (August 20-21-22), and the building where we had to hand them in wasn't far from the stores, so when we got out of there (around 2pm, gah!), we headed to FS. I got both the game and camera and went to pay for them. The girl who worked there didn't seem to be in total control of the situation, but heck, anyone can operate a cash register, right? Or so I thought anyone could! First she scanned both items, total came up to 90$ (79.99+tax, right), but the receipt didn't print, so she had to start over. Second time she scanned the items, she must have missed the game, because the total came down to 45$ (39.99, the price of the camera). Of course, I noticed, but I kept my mouth shut, d'uh. While walking out of the store, I almost felt like running, in fear of having to race to the car, followed by the clerk.

Next up was EBgames. That was quite simple, went up to the clerk, took out my receipt, said I bought it for someone and he already had the game, asked for a refund, got it, walked out.

So I ended up paying only for the PS3 Eye camera, getting the game for nothing, which is almost 70$ with taxes. Sweet deal!

Lazy job - day 4

You guys all know I have one heck of a lazy-ass job. I come in at 6:30am, unlock the school's doors, take off the alarm system and sit my ass on a chair. All. Day. Long.

Well today, I've done more than what they usually ask from me. I was walking slowly in the corridors when I saw the Contractor and the Janitor talking. Suddenly, the janitor started pointing at me. Intrigued, I went closer. The contractor was looking for someone to help him mesure things. Since he's an old fashioned guy, he had an old tape mesure tool. Of course, the young guns in here mesure things with lasers. So I went with him in the basement and we mesured walls together. I have to say, this school's rooms aren't rectangular. No. They have weird angles everywhere. You know what's weird though? This room in the basement, with no windows and far away from any exterior door, will serve as the school's kindergarten. Is it just me or is this a bad idea?

Anyway, now I have nothing to do again, and for a long time. These days I do almost 12 hour shifts because the cool dudes mesuring things with their lasers go home at 6pm.
Thank god I found an ethernet cable running down the wall, plugged into an IP phone. I can always play with my DS or my PSP also. Oh, and I found a tv in the music class the other day. I could plug my PS2 into it, like I did last year, in a different school.

Financially, things are looking good, I'll be getting my first paycheck in...months! Since it happens to coincide with my birthday (the 6th, this Sunday actually), I'm thinking about buying a PS3. The Metal Gear Solid 4 bundle, which includes the 80GB model, for those who care. That would set me back 568$ including taxes, but there's a game with it (two, actually, you can download "Pain" online once you buy the bundle). Besides, with the ridiculous amount of money on my paycheck, I surely can afford it.

Matsam will be on the PlayStation Network very soon. Let's just hope the username "matsam" isn't already taken!

Van Halen - Jump solo madness

I wanted to post something a little more impressive than Roadhouse Blues, I think this might be. I didn't play the whole song, because there isn't a lot of guitar in it anyway, except the sweet solo halfway through. Well, tell me what you think! I know it's not perfect, but I think Eddie would be proud, rock on!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P22uY2hhyi8

Random madness from the closet

So I was cleaning my room (it's been a while...) and I found cool things, one of them being a drawing Francis did way back in high school. It's me as a superhero.

I present you, Touffeman!

Roadhouse Blues

Hate to say I told you so... [Update]

The Detroit Red Wings just won the Stanley Cup. Let's see, my prediction was...Detroit in 6? Well, that's exactly what happened! After most of you guys told me the Penguins would cause a big surprise, I kept telling you the Red Wings were a better team.

Matsam was right. Again.

To rub it in:


UPDATE:

Evil Red Wings Owner Wario Lemieux Steals Stanley Cup

Source: The Onion

Pop-Tart experiment

Ok, I just found a Pop-Tarts in my backpack. It must be like 6 months old, I don't even remember putting it there...
*Note: the package was already opened, so it definitely wasn't fresh or anything...

I'll be doing a little food experiment here. I'll eat it, and keep you informed.

12:33am: Starting to eat the Pop-Tart.

12:36am: Found yellow spots on the white icing, but I'm already 3/4 through eating it. Oh well.

12:40am: Finished eating the Pop-Tart. The jelly inside was kind of hard and it didn't taste as good as a fresh Pop-Tart. It was bitter and sort of spicy, but still sweet, for the most part. One small piece was too hard to chew.

12:52am: Feeling a little sick to my stomac, but nothing serious. I am stronger than the Pop-Tarts.

12:58am: Not feeling any better, I'm eating a Mr.Freeze to make the old Pop-Tart taste go away, yuck.

1:11am: I'm starting to burp a lot.

2:02am: Unusual amount of saliva.

1:24pm: Have not been sick.

Experiment conclusion: Matsam is stronger than old Pop-Tarts.

Hooker-barmaid

Ok, so yesterday we decided to go party at the Café Campus. On that night, they had some deals going on, such as free entrance for girls and 1$ beers until 11pm.

Right after we got in, we decided to go get a beer, you know, especially since they were so cheap. So me and my buddy Kevin go and order ourselfs something to drink. We ordered, got our beer and gave the lady one dollar for each beer. That's when the barmaid looked at us and said "Le pourboire est pas inclus hein!" (Tip isn't included eh!)

What the fuck, barmaid? Look, I know how tipping works, it's 15% of what you order. I know it can be a bit more, at a bar or in a club, but what did she expect for a 1 dollar beer!? a few pennies? a "generous" 25 cents? C'mon.

Furthermore, the person serving you shouldn't expect more tipping from you if they ask you for it, espcially in such a cold and bitchy way. She didn't even open a beer bottle, it was in a glass, don't tell me that's hard to do. Sure, I would've tipped her, after maybe 4 or 5 dollars/beers. Heck, tip is optional, I give some if I enjoy the service. Bitchy barmaids aren't getting any money from me.

Anyway, just after she said that, me and Kevin looked at each other, stunned. We didn't know what to say, what kind of barmaid "asks" for tip? I guess he felt more guilty than I did, she ended up getting a tip equal to 100% of what his beer costed. Good job, bitch.

Only hookers should be allowed to ask for tip, as far as I know, that barmaid had quite the attitude to be one.

Hockey madness

By popular demand (and with people threatening me, merci Mélina!), I realized my blog really needed an update. Jeez, I’ve been a lazy bastard.

First of all, I have to express how I feel about what happened to my favorite hockey team, les Canadiens de Montréal.

After one hell of a season, Montreal finished 1^st in the Eastern conference for the first time since the 1988-89 season, and 3^rd in the NHL with 104 points. Was it a surprise that the Habs had to face the Boston Bruins? Not really. It was actually the 31^st time in NHL history that the two teams met in the playoffs. The series still ended up lasting 7 games as the Bruins proved to have some kind of incredible survival skill. Montreal still managed to win against Boston in the playoffs for the 24^th time with a glorious 5-0 score.

Now, we all know hockey is pretty popular in Canada, even more so for Montreal, since the Canadiens are literally part of our cultural heritage (24 Stanley Cups isn’t nothing). But when a sport becomes almost as important as religion under certain circumstances, things can go horribly wrong. Allow me to explain.

Monday, April 21. The Montreal Canadiens just won the series against Boston. People are so happy about it that they get out and celebrate, screaming and shouting in the town’s streets. There’s nothing wrong with celebrating publically, I did it. I was watching the game with some friends and we all got out, expressing our joy. But here comes the resemblance with what’s wrong with religion. Similar to some religious extremists, some enthusiastic Canadiens fans (one can wonder if they can still be called “fans” at that point) decided to express their joy in a peculiar way, as this photo can show.

Worthy of the 1993 Stanley Cup winning game, this riot was quite impressive, for a first round win. The Police said fans did around $500,000 of damage to the police cars only. That’s not counting all the other cars, the shops’ broken glass showcases, the letter boxes, signs, etc. After looking at all the damage that had been caused, I couldn’t help but to wonder: “What the fuck does that have to do with winning a hockey game?”. Then again, sports aren’t the only place where such things happen. I surprised myself thinking about religion (tied in with politics) and what it causes people to do. The war in Iraq, for instance.

Closer to us, religion ties into hockey in many ways. It goes from praying that your team will win to climbing the St-Joseph’s Oratory’s stairs on your knees.

Yeah, me and my buddies did climb the stairs before and after the game. We had nothing to do and were a bit drunk, actually.

Of course, this meant the Canadiens were going to Round 2 against the Philadelphia Flyers. At that point, everyone thought Montreal had the team to win the Cup. That was about to change. After winning game 1, the Canadiens were to lose the 4 next games, causing fans to react with their usual bipolar disorder: the Canadiens win a game? Stanley Cup! They lose a game? It's all over. I don't think Montreal did a horrible job in that series. Actually, they pretty much dominated all the games, getting beat by the Flyers' unorganized playing style. Counting the amount of posts hit by Montreal’s player, the mediocre referee work and the ugly goals Philly’s players scored, I can clearly say the Flyers were very lucky, 4 straight times. We asked a lot from our rookie goalie Carey Price, and even though he didn’t take us as far as we would’ve hoped, he certainly gained experience, and there’s always next year. I just hope the kind of riot we just had doesn't increase exponentially as the team goes through the rounds, as a Stanley Cup win would probably push the population to burn Montreal down to ashes.

For now, I hope the Pittsburgh Penguins destroy the Flyers in Round 3. My prediction? A Penguins Vs. Red Wings final in which Detroit wins. Hockeytown deserves it this year. May the octopus be with them!

Dealing with arachnids

I don't like spiders

Yesterday, I was happily procrastinating, when suddenly I saw something move in a dark corner, near my 4 port USB hub. Intrigued, I decided to turn on the lights. Just as I feared: it was a spider.

I decided to throw everything off the desk, to get a clean hit at it. I looked around, I needed a weapon. Laptop? Not worth destroying it. A fork? Might be hard to actually hit the spider. My hand? Eww. That's when I saw the water bottle. Perfectly shaped to kill a spider, if you miss on the first shot, you can always roll over it, squeezing the life out of the beast. I prepared myself mentally, having a plan for each and every direction the spider could go if I missed my first strike. I killed it. Yes, finally.

Just as I came back from throwing out the kleenex with the dead spider in it, I put back some of the things I had tossed earlier. What's this...? Another fucking spider. Great, just great. But this spider was wiser. It decided to go under my laptop, a fragile object I couldn't just toss away. I had to study its movements, to have the avantage of the surprise attack! I tried to move the laptop just a little bit, so that the spider would run away. Nothing. I lifted the laptop, expecting a similar reaction. The spider had some nerves, just standing there, mocking me. So I killed it, with the SAME water bottle.

Matsam 2, spiders 0.

"The spider is mugging you, it wants crack."

Memories of a dance floor

Since nothing really interesting is happening these days, after all, it's the point where the semester comes to an end, everyone is busy studying, working on papers or, like me, procrastinating.

So let me tell you about something that happened last semester. Might have been the mid-term party (or some other excuse to make a party). I have to say that, before going to college, I wasn't exactly the crazy party boy you think I might have been (it's the hair, I know), so I was still new at this. All I knew is I could have fun, and I could dance. Dance like I had never danced before.

Unlike my first college party, this club was going to play alternative rock music. Awesome. Also, since that kind of club doesn't want a male-exclusive population (who wants that...? Seriously), drinks were free for the ladies until 11:30 and the admission was free for college students. I also decided to bring a friend of mine (free drinks surely convinced her).

So as I was getting ready to go, I suddenly remembered I had just bought these awesome green Converse shoes. Yeah, I was going for the rocker look. After carefully lacing my Converse, putting on my AC/DC t-shirt, I was on my way to party.

After a few minutes of where-the-hell-is-this-club, we finally saw some familiar faces. As we came closer, the gang's Converse specialist immediately recognized what kind of shoe I was wearing. After some shoe-talk, we got in the club. At first, things are a bit uncomfortable, you ask for a beer, sit down since nobody is dancing and engage a quick conversation (which is actually hard to do since the music is already so loud). Most of the girls were at the bar, absorbing as much alcohol as they could before 11:30. At some point, some other people noticed my new shoes, and for some of them, having clean Converse just wasn't right. That's when I got attacked by two of them. Their mission was to get my shoes to look dirty...and I must say they did a good job. They rubbed the bottom of their shoes on the top of mine, the white part. I now had the perfect look of a rocker, at least shoe-wise.

After a few beers, still nobody was dancing. Suddenly, the dj decided to play some AC/DC. Being the AC/DC fan I am (who other than me would dress as Angus Young for Halloween?), I basically duck-walked to the dance floor. Of course, everybody followed and the dance floor wasn't empty anymore. From this point, music got a lot better, classic after classic, we were starting to show off our best moves, such as "put-your-hands-on-your-knees-and-cross-your-arms- so-that-your-hands-go-from-one-knee-to-the-other". Of course, some of us were feeling more willing than others, and that's how four of us, including me, climbed on the stage and started dancing so that everybody could see us. The choreography was pretty awesome, and since the beer we had must have been diluted, we had good timing and coordination. We even did the "put-your-hands-on-your-knees-and-cross-your-arms-so-that-your-hands-go-from-one-knee-to-the-other" dance.

After the club closed, some of us suggested we'd go to the 24/7 Bagels shop next to the club: St-Viateur Bagel. I have to say, those are some fine bagels, the best in town. The bagels are only 50 cents too. One of us decided to buy some cream cheese to go with it, so we all shared a well deserved snack, at 3:30am.

I slept at a friend's house that night, I dreamed of shoes, dancing and bagels.

Cast art [update 3]

Having a cast sure does provide a lot of attention. The frenzy often sounds like "OMG, can I sign/draw/write on your cast!?" and since it's kind of hard to turn them away, because I am an attention whore anyway, I ended up with writings over half my cast in a matter of minutes.

Considering most of the comments are nice and pleasant to read, I thought of keeping my cast after I wouldn't need it to hold my bones together anymore. My inexperience came as a disappointment, as my friends all came to the same conclusion: Old casts stink.

Although I love material possessions, I'm not a fan of smelly objects. Therefore, keeping the cast after it is cut off sounds like a bad option. Good news! I can write all of the nice (and mean) things some of you wrote on it, as this blog will probably live on forever in the immensity of the interwebs. So here it is, I'll update as more people have urges to write on my cast.

Prompt rétablissement. Si tu veux te ré-incarner en Angus Young, je ne suis pas une référence.

-Anh Khoi Do

Soigne-toi bien Frisou! Si t’avais besoin d’aide pour te branler, t’avais qu’à me le dire! Je t’aime! HAHA

-Mélina la frisée =|

Bon rétablissement, si tu as besoin de te branler et que Mélina est pas là, bin pense pas à moi, force toi prend l’autre main!

-Danick « bassiste »

Friséé! Tu vas avoir ben du retard à reprendre dans Guitar Hero! Courage!

-Caro

Une chance que t’as pas une Telecaster, pauvre gars!

-Le gars qui a une Telecaster

J’espère que tu vas bien prendre soin de ton bras parce que moi j’ai bien hâte de t’entendre jouer de la guit :) J’tm

-Ninnie

Ce plâtre va valoir autant qu'une Telecaster.

- Sébastien Bordage

PS: Réponse d'exam: Mer Rouge!

Comme un sage me dit: "Maintenant, du sexe sans forcer!"

-Beeman
bzzz

Le Dove, c'est un shampooing FÉMININ!

- Caro

/use item Phoenix Down
...error... Phoenix Down value 0
/cast Cure
...error... MP value 0
/equip Smelly Cast
STR -3, Armor +1, 3 months countdown

- Félix B.L.

Guérit bien Frisou! Ça aurait pu être pire...tu aurais pu te fracasser la tête et ils t'auraient rasé les cheveux! Quelle horreur!

- Millie a.k.a. Maman -xx-

Je suis lucide.

- Caro

Après la pluie le beau-zo le clown!

- Félix B.L.

Snowboarding madness

Snowboarding being considered an extreme sport, it's only normal to hear about people getting injured from time to time. The thing is, although you know about the risks, you would never think it would happen to you, especially after 5 years of uninterrupted enjoyment of the sport. Well, I am glad to announce that I am no exception. After all this time thinking my glorious hair provided me incredible luck, I finally got my very own injury.

It was a Saturday morning, me and my buddy Mathieu (same name, don't get confused here) agreed to go to Ski Morin-Heights, the ski resort I work at as a snowboarding instructor for 3 years now. It was one of our last "ski days": as the summer was getting closer, the snow was melting and the time had come to hand in our bright red instructor jackets (which is our uniform). Since it is quite a drive to get there, we decided to spend the morning there and leave early in the afternoon.

The conditions were decent, but the snow was hard since we didn’t get any snowfall in a while. It wasn’t the perfect day to attempt any crazy tricks, but there’s always this uncontrollable will to nail something special before the season ends. So being the freeride type of snowboarder I am, unlike those freestyle riders, my “crazy” objective was to do some 360s and maybe try a few jumps in the snowpark. I did succeed when it came to the 360° rotation. The jumps, however, were a different story.

Although the jumps at Ski Morin-Heights may sound ridiculously small for some, I find them to be quite a challenge. A new jump had been built the week before. Not only was it the biggest in the snowpark, but it was also what you would call a “step-up” jump. The particularity of these jumps reside in the fact the landing is actually higher than the launcher, with a gap between the two. Knowing that, it’s obvious that you need to take the jump with a lot of speed to get to the other side. So after doing pretty much every other jump in the snowpark, I actually thought I had what it took to take on that step-up jump of hell.

After letting my friend try it, I decided to take my chance. Picking up my speed and going downhill from at least two hundred feet away, I was preparing myself mentally, as my snowboard was taking me closer to the jump at blazing speeds. When it was finally time to takeoff, I took one last breath and flew through the air. It was an incredible feeling, until I realized I was turning sideways, now facing the landing. After this 90° rotation, I also started rotating in a way you would want to if you were trying to do a backflip. Sadly, that’s not what I was trying to do. As I was losing altitude, out of balance, my body’s natural reflex was to try and stop myself with my hands, the result being that the first part of my body hitting the ground was my wrist.

Having wiped out quite a few times before, I knew this exploding sensation in my wrist wasn’t right. The temperature being cold and the adrenaline still pumping through my veins, I still didn’t realize how serious this was. Wrist injuries being quite common, I decided to get it checked out by someone more qualified. After taking off my clove, my buddy asked me if I could move my fingers. After hearing my positive answer, he told me it probably wasn’t broken. I decided to believe him. At the resort’s clinic, they quickly checked my wrist, told me to apply ice and made me a cast out of carton boxes and ripped clothes. They also suggested I’d go to the hospital, just in case.

Since I took my car to get there, my buddy asked me if I would let him drive. Excellent idea. As we drove back home, the heat of the car made the trip quite painful, as the cold weather would rather freeze my wrist. He dropped me home and I called my girlfriend so that she could drive me to the hospital.

I ended up spending a total of 6 hours sitting on a somewhat uncomfortable chair with other sick people, kids throwing up and old ladies complaining about everything. Luckily, when I got there, I found a ticket with a smaller number than mine, on the floor, it allowed me to pass in front of a few people hehe…After 4 hours, I finally got to see a doctor, who took a whole second and a half to look at my wrist, tell me “Oh, that’s broken, no doubt about that!” and send me to radiology, to take X-rays. 2 hours later, I’m being called again: “Mathieu Lavoie, Cubicule 3”. As I enter the room, I can see the doctor enjoying her sandwich as a nurse quickly closes the back door. The doctor comes back, 25 minutes later, and tells me “So, like I told you, it’s broken, right here (points on her wrist), your radius and also your cubitus.” “…both?” I ask doubtful? Her positive answer left me and my girlfriend speechless, as the doctor gave me a little paper, filled with something a 4 year old hyper kid could’ve come up with. She also told me my bones had to be repositioned, which could require surgery. Great…

The thing is, the specialist, who would reposition the bones to their original emplacement, wasn’t there until Monday. So I go to the secretary to get a rendez-vous. Some painful times in perspective… I still got this semi-cast though, which was so uncomfortable, my fingers ended up hurting more than my wrist, but that might have been my loose bones messing with my finger nerves/muscles.

So after two nights of unsuccessfully trying every position/pillow combination to make my arm stop hurting, it was finally time to get that thing back into condition. Back at the hospital, I present myself at the counter, give my hospital card, and say my name, only to be told that she doesn’t have any rendez-vous for me. Tabarnak… I reach for the little piece of paper filled with gibberish the doctor gave me and hand it to the secretary, who finally decides to put my name at the end of the list.

After a decent amount of time passes, I finally get called. I go in the room and a doctor with a strong accent starts asking me questions. After I answer them all, I go sit back in the corridor, as I can also get a peak of what is going on in the room. The doctor seems to be a bone repositioning specialist, as I see a number of kids get in, scream, cry and get out with a freshly made cast. It’s finally my turn, I’m being asked to lie down in the chair as the nurse cuts my semi-cast. At last, liberty! Not for long.

After the nurse cleaned my arm, the doctor came back and pokes me 3 or 4 times, injecting me some kind of anesthetic liquid into my now double-sized wrist. Then came the time to reposition the bones. The nurse’s job was to hold my arm down, as well as pulling my hand so that the bone would have some space to move. The doctor then secured his grip by putting his fingers behind my wrist and pushed with his two thumbs to put the whole thing in its original position. The feeling was similar to having a tooth removes with poorly done anesthesia, except 10 times worse, since the bones are obviously bigger. I couldn’t help but to let go a huge nervous laughter, making the doc say the anesthesia did its job. 3 nurses then gathered around, making me a nice cast going from my elbow to my fingers.

So here I am, typing with one hand, I can’t play guitar anymore, I can’t play video games, it takes me forever to type things on my laptop (I don’t count in hours, but rather days now, for this entry). The doc said my wrist will never be the same, because it broke too close to the articulation. It will deteriorate with time and I’ll probably feel the temperature change. Hopefully I’ll be able to regain those guitar skills in 4 to 6 weeks…

I'm going back to the hospital next week to see if I need surgery.

Prologue

So I finally decided to start "blogging". It's not much of a doing-like-everyone-else-on-the planet thing, but more of a little experience, something I wanted to try for a while.

To start things up, might as well describe myself as of now (perhaps this could serve as a comparison point in a distant future). I’m a 19 year-old dude and a full-time student. I study History at Université de Montréal, it’s my first year and I love it: people are nice, classes are interesting and challenging. People mostly recognize me with my ridiculous amount of curly hair, it’s my pride and joy, perhaps an obsession, but hey, live with it; it’s not going to be cut anytime soon. I also have a few passions, which include snowboarding, playing guitar, music, gaming, buying stuff, shoes, hair, and talking about FLs. I would also consider myself to be a chronic procrastinator. Not that I don’t like to work, but wasting time has such a strong appeal to me, what can I say! All these things didn’t prevent me from having a girlfriend, surprisingly. Her name is Virginie and she’s a gem.

I had to make a choice regarding which language I was going to write this blog in. I chose English (obviously) because I think it’ll give an easier time to my English-speaking friends (who suck at speaking French) and it probably won’t matter to my French-speaking friends (most of them are perfectly bilingual anyway). If not, excusez-moi, je vais surement lâcher un “tabarnak” pour vous une fois de temps en temps! In addition, doing so will give me a chance to practice my written English, a thing that I don’t do often enough, in my opinion.

I think that’s all I have to say for now, I hope some people can actually enjoy reading this, if not, at least it’ll serve me as a personal journal, recording my hair’s crazy adventures.

Matsam

PS. I want to thank RedSlime for giving me the idea of doing this, I follow his example. You fucking bastard.