The Seven Things Chain Letter

Megan, whom we normally like, fucking tagged us. So we're supposed to do a posting with seven random facts about us.

1. The Elgin Street Irregulars are six actual human beings and not one disturbed individual pretending to be different people.
2. Coyote has been reminded by 4D at least once that he is an actual human being and not a literal coyote.
3. Agatha once decided to write postings profiling each of the ESIs but only wrote one for the Chair.
4. The other ESIs have all acted like they are okay with this, but we probably all wonder why she didn't write that one profile about us instead.
5. There is no fifth random fact about the ESIs.
6. The "no fifth" running gag began when some of the ESIs decided to start using "fifth" and "muse" in their postings so that the Fifth Muse might find us if she did a vanity google.
7. The Fourth Dwarf likes to think he would be Doc, but is far more often compared to Grumpy.

Now, we get to tag others. Any nominations?

Why we love Elgin Street

Back in the heady leadup to the 'we-can-do-anything' days of Expo '67, Canadians heard a lot of talk about the cultural mosaic. No mundane melting pots for us. No sirree. Mutual respect among distinct, yet cooperative, ethnic groups was the societal agenda.

Sadly, that interesting multicultural ideal seemed to be mostly burnt up in a consumeristic hell of 80s yuppiedom. A year into the new millenium, its ashes were pretty well stomped into the mud in a spate of ethnic-profiling paranoia over terrorism.

Pretty well. But here on Elgin Street, if ya want poly-ethnic, we got it. In spades. Up the wazoo. We gotta publog this place the Dwarf spotted, when he was out airing his aspidistra the other day. Whether they serve draught ale or not.

(Oh. And for the uninitiated among our international readers, 'poutine' is a heart-stopping Québécois confection of fresh julienned potatoes, twice french-fried in peanut oil for extra crispiness, salted, covered in fresh cheddar cheese curds, then doused in lashings of hot canned gravy to create the kind of gooey gourmet goodness that only a philistine could reject. Extra salt and ketchup right there on the table beside ya, if ya want 'em....)

Google Poem: Reluctance

I am reluctant to predict possible answers to my questions
I am reluctant to post calls to action
I am reluctant to attend a meeting in West Africa.
Now I Am Reluctant to Post on livejournal.
I got an internship at Merrill Lynch, but I am reluctant to take it

I am reluctant to entertain alternatives that presuppose the traditional subservience of one class to another.

Frankly I am reluctant to adopt that course.

I am sure you will understand when I say that I am reluctant to pick up where Venus left off.
I am reluctant to go along
I am reluctant to point my fingers
I am reluctant to learn Excel
I am reluctant to make a commitment
I am reluctant to upgrade
I am reluctant to teach
I am reluctant to accept the view that there are real benefits from PPPs.
I am reluctant to upgrade software that doesn't work
I am reluctant to have ANYthing to do with formal religion.

I am reluctant to just publish an open map but would rather just add a link.
I am reluctant to venture outside.
I am reluctant to go back to the doctor
I am reluctant to call much attention to my side business
My plan is to become a surgeon, however, I am reluctant to even continue to med school.

I am reluctant to attribute a ‘meaning’ to Found Art

[*]

Does Frank know?

Near the Bayswater tube station, west London / Sunday, Oct. 7, 2007

Zoom's Auction Status

Some ESIs think that Zoom is brilliant for auctioning part of her prize for winning the first Meta Contest. Others think she is stretching the spirit of the rules and wimping out. While we debate this, you, the innocent readers of the metablog, suffer. Why? Because today would have been the start date of the second Meta Contest, but we don't want it to be competing with the Auction.