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Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…welcome to my Smorgasblog. Tonight you will find a delectable array of information, tid bits, one-liners and other tasty treats to feast your eyes on.

Let’s begin with the appetizer…

While discussing the upcoming Canucks season with Craig and Becky on Saturday, I mentioned that I’d really like a jersey to wear to a game or two this season. Sadly, womens’ jerseys are not available. Is it that difficult to get something a little fitted, a little low cut, a little cinched? Apparently so. I went to the Canucks official website store, and this was the best I could come up with:

It’s fitted and it sparkles. I suppose it’ll suffice.

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As I mentioned in my last post, Becky, Corinna and I went to a midnight showing of Rush Hour 3 last week. While the movie was a stinker (with a few incredibly distasteful scenes), there was one fairly hot scene. While in Paris, a cabaret is the setting of a rescue and the cabaret girls were dancing to a song that I couldn’t get out of my head after seeing it. If you can find it, grab “Bonnie and Clyde” by Serge Gainsbourg. It’s sexy. Trust me.

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Both myself and a friend have been looking forward to Rob Zombie’s upcoming remake of Halloween in ridiculous proportions. A month or two ago I had posted the trailer as this movie gave me two reasons to feel excitement. Not only is a classic horror flick being remade by one of my favourite directors, it’s also starring my all-time favourite actor.

Malcolm McDowell captured my heart, my mind and, oddly enough, my libido when I first saw A Clockwork Orange. He’s simply a fantastic actor who is far too underrated. Unfortunately, I think Malcolm himself is largely to blame because, save for a handful of memorable roles (ie. Caligula, O Lucky Man! and Time After Time), he’s picked some weiners for himself. Most will know him from Clockwork - that is, if you managed to sit through it.

This is one movie where you really should watch it, then read the book and then watch the movie again. Much of the script is in nadsat, which is a form of Russian slang. It helps to read the story to understand the context. Anyways, enough blabbering. I picked this scene because it’s one of Malcom’s most memorable and most definitely showcases his acting talent.

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Today I went to Tony’s blog and saw a sweet-ass picture of Raymi being all sexywrithy and an idea hit me. Why not do a Blogging Babes in Bikinis 2008 calendar? I e-mailed the Minx who seemed to be pretty much on board.

So the question is…

How many of you would buy a calendar of your favourite blog hotties in next to nothing?

And more importantly, are there any photographers out there (*ahem*cough*cough*DuaneStorey*cough*cough*ahem) that would want to shoot some local hotties…namely at least three I can think of?

Okay but seriously…who wouldn’t want to spend every day of 2008 with us? C’mon, geeks - I know you’re out there.

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And last but not least, in speaking of Tony, when he was in Vancouver, we had an ultra-important discussion over the necessity of using exceptional chocolate chips when baking chocolate chip cookies. I only ever use Nestle Tollhouse Morsels, so I am required to stock up when I go south of the border (I will, however, use Chipits if desperate times call). Tony disagreed that they make the best chocolate chip cookies and, in a round-about way, challenged me. I am patiently awaiting a package from the U.S. of Eh! containing four different kinds of chocolate chips, all unmarked.

Becky and I will then proceed to conduct our scientific baking experiment, maintaining equal variables and only changing the chips each batch. Stay tuned for our painstaking, labourious analysis in the coming days or weeks.

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I’m pretty sure that’s it for tonight, kids. I figured I owed you all something since I haven’t blogged since Saturday. Goodnight, and don’t forget to tip your scantily clad waitress (that’d be me) on your way out.

P.S. Oh! I almost forgot…pretty sure I’m going to do a narrative post in the next few days in homage to the greatest 80s movie ever made. No, not Karate Kid, you jackasses.