If they call it “toothpaste,”

If they call it “toothpaste,” then how come it doesn’t glue your mouth shut?

I am in one of “those moods.” This afternoon I was sitting on the couch, watching the news on TV and eating a bowl of leftover Chinese food. I went to fork up a big clump of rice and it ski-jumped over the side of the bowl and scattered all over me. I looked down and started to guffaw, and then I went, “Wait a minute, I’m covered in rice.”

And on my way down to the studio tonight, Jennifer got a flat tire. I thought, “Hey, my back tire’s flat! Look at that… b’dump, b’dump, b’dump. Ha ha ha ha.” And then I went, “Wait a minute, I’ve got a fuckin’ flat tire.”

Holy crap on a crap-pole, I’m going to be on TV. The people from Zed got in touch with me and asked if I wanted to be on the programme and I said “Hell yeah.” The taping was yesterday over at the CBC television building.

On the way in, they got some nice footage of my shopping cart full of gear. We also went over to the Commons and they filmed me carving it up in the skatebowl with the shopping cart. It was rad dude.

I had spoken to a woman in Vancouver, and she told me I would be getting paid for my appearance on Zed. I asked how much and she told me and I went “Holy shit on a shit-stick, it would be my honour to perform two songs on your show.” Television is the way to go my friends.

It took all afternoon and I had to do each song six times in a row for rehearsals, camera angles and so on. It was definitely an artificial performing situation but I had fun dancing around like a fool in front of a studio audience that consisted of seven or eight silent technicians.

Afterwards I was starving so I went out to Robie Food with the TV producer and my roommate Gerry. I bought enough Chinese food to feed six people. I ended the day with a tremendous sense of well-being, after having eaten more in one sitting than I’d probably eaten on the previous three days combined. (A lot of the time when I think I’m depressed or cranky, I’m actually hungry.)

I left that place with a doggy bag big enough to feed the Lithuanian army. If you want to solve the problem of world hunger, just give all the money to musicians. They’ll make sure that everyone gets fed.

I’d like to thank Queen Elizabeth II for buying dinner for me and my friends yesterday.

The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation is a Crown corporation. That means I was working for the Queen yesterday. Now, let me be straight up about this. I am a Royalist. I love the Queen. The fact that the Queen was paying me so handsomely to be on TV only serves to prove to me that Her Majesty rewards her loyal subjects.

I realize that it’s not very fashionable for people my age to be into the Queen. But I can’t help it. She’s the Queen! They had an old portrait of the Queen at the studio, and I looked at it for a long time. We have one in our house as well–one of the famous old photographs by Yousuf Karsh. It hangs in a place of honour in our house, with a little bunny sceptre that we’ve taped on to the glass (okay, so this might be stretching royal protocol a little bit.)

If you’re Canadian, you’re used to seeing these old portraits everywhere–in schools and post offices and so on. I went looking on the internet for old photographs of the Queen, but they were surprisingly hard to find.

The thing that always strikes me about these classic portraits is the intensity of the colour blue. In the sashes, the robes and the medals–it is a shimmering, silvery royal blue that has the intensity of a radioactive cobalt magnet. But the bluest elements of these portraits are the Queen’s eyes. They always shine forth from the photographs and capture me in their imperial radiance.

Plus when the Queen was young she was quite the hottie. Even though her regal bearing would forbid it, I still like to imagine the teenaged Elizabeth telling Johnny Rotten to fuck right off.

Holy fuck on a fuck-node… God Save The Queen.