This is a Bacardi Cocktail made with our house light rum, El Dorado Deluxe Silver. That means it’s not really a Bacardi Cocktail as far as Bacardi’s trademark lawyers are concerned. But the name, like the name Sazerac (over which an acquaintance of mine was served a few months back), is now its own semiotic entity, whether the lawyers like it or not.

This is probably some form of copyright infringement, but I have completed my transcription of Allen Toussaint’s Tipitina and Me, and since his publisher’s website clearly states they are not interested in publishing unsolicited transcriptions, I’m just going to give it away for free here.

We saw Penn & Teller for the first time in Vegas this past August, and because we also had tickets to their Toronto show in November they were on my mind when I was trying to decide what to carve for this year’s pumpkin. Of course the project called for two this year, and my task was further complicated by having chosen slightly smaller than usual pumpkins.

Am I one of the 10 most creative people in the Canadian Marketing industry? The suggestion is as flattering as it is unlikely. As we delve into the possible answers to this question, I will first address those of you who already know what I’m talking about. I’ll get to the rest of you shortly.

The following was a losing entry in the 6th Annual Geist Literal Literary Postcard Story Contest.

“What’s with the bunny suit,” my dad asked, and hearing that got my sister and me pretty excited. Easter had come and gone, but how could a bunny suit be anything but amazing?

Dear Steve Castellano,

Thank you for using Waste Management’s Bagster® Dumpster in a Bag®. To continually improve our services, Waste Management would like to hear from you to evaluate our performance.

I got it into my head that I wanted to dig up an old MIDI file that I had created back in the Atari days, for reasons that escape me…

First successful implementation of the Gorillapod, on the sidewalk outside C’est What after a few pints of “Hop Addict.” Note how, like the party guest that no one remembers inviting,…

Found street art. Edit: Pardon me. Sprit killers.

Not knowing why you’re doing what you’re doing, while you’re doing it: isn’t that madness? Holding on to a slime-covered rock at the bottom of a lake, pondering the balance between the weight of sodden corduroy and cotton and the buoyancy of your lungs and the water sliding under your belly to wedge you up, under your chest, telling you this is silly, that it’s a little thing, they’re your friends, let go.