Toren Atkinson’s Absolute Blog

I was amazed, mystified, astounded, dumbfounded, and stupefied by the calibre of fantastic swag donated and be-gifted upon me this birthday goodness. It includes, in the order that I remember/am looking at it - some black plastic vhs cases (yeah!), some superiffic ultra-classy “royal blue with gold” six-sided dice, some Tank Girl comics, gaming minis (pirates and brigands), tons of KICKASS camping gear that I am so fucking stoked about that I absolutely have to use words like “fucking” and “stoked,” the Wheatus CD that I’ve been longing for, stickers, and the whole caboodle was lovingly catered by Anghold & Yvonne. The chip dip was so popular that I wasn’t quick enough for anything but the scrapings once everyone was gone (but I found some leftover celery, mushrooms and veggie dip so that made up for it and then some). We’ve got tons of chips leftover so if you’re feeling a mite peckish feel free to stop by for some junk food. I’ll be having pakoras, tabouleh, and pita w/ houmous for breakfast tomorrow!

My brother called - I had forgotten to invite him to the party because…well let me put it this way - no email = no invite. Actually I could have sent him a text message through his phone, but I forgot. But he’s coming into town next week to magnanimously drop off a birthday present. My mom also sent me fiddy bucks in the mail - thanks mum!

Everyone seemed to have a good time - James especially. I don’t know if he had had too much to drink or not enough but he was certainly more “on” than usual. And that’s pretty on! It was pretty loud and boisterous, especially when the little cat pins and faux-fur covered water bottles came up to the block. My old pal Tom from the island came over this morning to drop off two amazing Star Wars posters - he said they were the only ones his older brother saved for him, the others included Ghostbusters. It got thrown in the trash. Sorry to break your heart there, Stewie. Attendees made off with some super good deals - tons of H.P. Lovecraft & other Cthulhoid books for pennies a glass, and a swanky brand new suitcase, a vertical grill, amongst other cool and fantastic items. What did you get?

Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got.
Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.
Wouldn’t you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go Where everybody knows your name,
and they’re always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows Your name.
You wanna go where people know, people are all the same,
You wanna go where everybody knows your name.

Chris Woods and I stormed The Normandy* this morning where I had a reprise of my dinner at Denny’s the night before. It was an interesting experience with, as Chris put it, the tiny David Lynchian Chinese maitre d’**, and a waitress who was clearly somebody’s crazy aunt. She was quite astounded that Chris is from Chilliwack. I think I’ll make it my slacklustre mission to try to find the cheapest place to get a breakfast in town. Of course - if you already know then please tell me and my mission will be at long last completed, leaving only the paperwork to do. Key factor will be hash browns. The browned hash at the Normandy was not as good as the home fries from Denny’s, but they were still better than the hash browns at Denny’s. Does that make sense? Let’s have a look…

Shredded hash browns. The worst. Usually undercooked at that.

Hash brown patties. Typically shredded hash browns in a patty form. McDonald’s style.

Tater tots. AKA Mexi-fries if you’re at TacoTime (pronounced teh KAW’ tih MAY). Kin to the patty. Usually restaurants don’t have the audacity to pass these off as hash browns. Usually.

Sliced hash browns. Like the shredded, these are usually underdone. Oh, they’re cooked (sometimes), but their not browned. Sometimes the edges are browned but usually the flats of the brown are soft and white. And then you don’t have hash browns, you have hash whites.

Tiny diced hashbrowns. These are the kind you get at the grocery store. They’re also the kind they serve at de Dutch Pannekoek House. Which is in itself shameful but the worst part is I know people who work there so I can’t hurl my plate across the restaurant in a huff, screaming Dutch expletives.

Home fries/Country fried potatoes. I don’t know how size makes the difference, because if you just triple the size of the tiny diced hash browns, you’ve got the winner. Cut them any way you please - as long as they’re chunky!

Kodos really is scared of the big black tube I keep my battlemat in.

* on Granville and 11th, across from the theater (not to be confused with the cinema).

** Maitre d’ is short for maître d’hôtel which literally translates to HOTEL MASTER.