Corey Isenor – Kissing Hands, Shaking Babies

Sackville homeboy, Corey Isenor, lives in Halifax now. He has in the past year, recorded and released a dope/hype record, asked me to look at his new graphic design site, and possibly eaten a burger or two? I haven’t seen the guy in months, but I did check out his new website. Corey is by far the most frequently endorsed person on this blog, so if you’ve been here before, it will come as no surprise that the boy is about to get some more shameless exposure. Without further ado, Corey Isenor: Graphic designsenor.

If you like what you see, I encourage you to hire corey for your next design project, as I guarantee you will not be able to afford him in a couple of years when he is turning down offers from Fendi and Versace because of his 2 year contract with Louis Vuitton.

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Game Of Bones/ Moans

Game of Thrones is a documentary about what life was like a hundred years ago in England. Check out some of the action here:

Also, the documentary features appearances by Wilko Johnson, who in 1971 went on to play guitar for the band Dr. Feelgood. Not Bad!

Check the resume:



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jaromir jagr

In an effort to stay relevant while the apocalypse unfolds before our very eyes, I ask you: When was the last time you looked at old pictures of Jaromir Jagr?

Told ya.

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Common Beef

At the end of the year, wordpress sends all it’s users a summary of their blog stats. You can publish it if you want, or you can keep it private. It tells you things like how all of your visitors got there, whether they google searched it, linked to it on the facebox, or whatever. Some other blogs will link to you if they have good taste, or are into gin drinks, but some times they link to you just because you have a hate-on for turtle looking canadian “celebitay” Drake. Anyway, that coupled with the fact that the 2011 grammy review included the words Bruno and Mars, made Backdoorsackville really popular in the aftermath of both the grammies, and the Junos. People who googled things like “drake faget” and “bruno mars tattoo” got referred here. Here’s a quick update in case you were wondering:


Drake is still a “faget” in my books, and in case you haven’t heard, he is currently “beefing” with Chicago’s own patron saint of hip-hop: Common. Let me take this opportunity to showcase some youtube videos.

First, here’s the song. Common’s part immediately follows Drake’s.

Next, here’s an axe body spray example of a Drake song:

Now Common’s retort to an Ice Cube diss in 1996:

Common is turning 40 this year, and also celebrating 20 years in the biz. Drake is presumably kicking back with some Cheetos and axe body spray, devising new ways to rap really slow, and move his arms around like a kindergarten teacher.

Bruno Mars

Bruno Mars is terrible. Here are some talented young ladies and gentlemen who you may already know about that are nothing like Drake or Bruno mars:

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No Gro-Mo

Last year I didn’t do movember because I did mo-decade-vember, which is when you grow a moustache for ten years, and you do it because you’re hard as fuck. That was the decade when every november I would grow a lack of moustache, forcing facial hair out of my cheeks so as to properly exemplify the absence of moustache to the masses. All this because I was so absolutely and violently against the idea of a bunch of SQUARES flaunting my look.

I’m not in my early twenties anymore – I’m in my mid-twenties. And, when you’re in your mid-big-boy-twenties like me, its easy to see the flawed logic of mo-decade-vember. Chances are if you grow a moustache recreationally, you can probably grow a nice one. That moustache is yours to own the other 12 months of the year. All you young Tom Sellecks would see a perfect opportunity to rise above the teen-stache mainstream if you would for one second stop flexing your muscles in the mirror. You didn’t invent the moustache, ok guys? My dad did.

Anyway, my point is that movember is kinda like when they started letting old people on facebook. It was cool when you could know how many people would be at the DryHumps show, and how many people would be getting loaded in the quarry afterwards, but all of a sudden your mom is your friend, and your friends’ moms are your friends, and the whole fucking interweb is just a bunch of inspirational quotes and blurry pictures of flowers taken with flip-phone cameras. You can’t not be friends with your own mom, but just because you accepted her friend request, doesn’t mean you have to stop swearing all of a sudden. Your mom is gonna see what she sees, and that’s hers to deal with. Just like when you grew a moustache this november, you weren’t planning on putting all those other losers to shame, but you kinda knew it was going to happen anyways. The moustaches are everywhere this month, and I guarantee there’s not a single one with biceps as big as mine.

I used to love being a hater. But, I’m in my mid-big-boy-twenties now and its time to set an example. If you are really torn about something, just do it and complain about it. That way you can have the best of both worlds. If you’re not going to do it though, shut the fuck up. No one likes a pissy-pants whiner. If it’s really that big of a deal, protest silently… like I used to do with the anti-stache.

Anyway, this whole time I’ve been going off about Movember, I have neglected to mention the true meaning of the whole affair: Money. Movemeber is all about raising as much money as possible so you can be better than the other men around you. I only have 20 dollars of donations on my mo-space page, and theres only a few days left. Please help me not be ostracized by the losers I work with for not re-mortgaging my house for movember. Just kidding, I don’t have a house. What the fuck is a prostrate?

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Cold Feet: a grown man’s guide to 5 different boots

Sometimes being a man is about showing up to a complicated situation with a pickup truck full of power tools and fixing the fuck out of a problem with sheer rock and roll testosterone. Other times it involves a thousand wild horses, a collection of antique rifles, and a home made religion. Most of the time, however, it involves being a reasonable fucking person with the common sense to dress for the weather.

Here is a list of boots I have owned and would recommend:

1) Bean Boots and Maine Hunting Shoe. I have worn a lot of these. They are extremely functional and have a pretty classic look. Nothing too edgy. They pair well with flannel shirts, facial hair and dark denim. Get them for your dad for his birthday etc. These are what I am wearing right now.

2) Viking Bushwacker. I prefer these to the Timberwolf for style reasons primarily, but the lower cut also means there are no hard rubber edges to dig into your leg. Put these ovens on for a trip to the hardware store or chainsaw convention. I wear mine with wool socks in the winter because they are waterproof, but not well insulated.

3) Mountaineering boots. These are tough. They take forever to break in, forever to tie up, and forever to die. They are definitely rugged and manly, but you can’t just kick them off, which is why they are better suited for mountaineering and other situations demanding performance over functionality. Anyone with the integrity to own and operate a pair of these is automatically promoted to lieutenant in my boot club.

4) Blundstones. I have a love-hate relationship with these boots. I’ve heard that they are loser-boots in Australia, but for some reason they are fetishized by idiots like you and me. They are really comfortable, super simple and extremely neutral style-wise. One of my neighbours wears them too. He is white and balding and has shitty dreadlocks down to his waist. He also wears a leather kilt. He smokes pot on his porch and looks at me like I’m insane. Love-to-hate/hate-to-love is more like it.

5) Motorcycle boots. Hands down the monster truck of macho-man shit-kickers. Actually, they’re not the right look for you. Please don’t buy a pair of these.

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Blog Dies, Few Mourn

There are people that still check this blog every day. I know this because I am the only administrator, and despite a few dead spots, there has been a decent amount of traffic all summer. All this despite a complete lack of interest/commitment on my part and ZERO updates since may, and even then I was just doing it to stifle pressure from friends. They probably just wanted to see pictures of themselves and read interviews that I did, over the internet, with them!

Fuck off, you guys.

embroidery by Moorea Hum

Here are things that you should know:

  • I miss you guys.
  • I live in Vancouver now.
  • I think about cool things to write about all the time, and then forget them.
  • Once I am comfortable enough in Vancouver to waste time dumping garbage into the internet, I will.
  • I will do the aforementioned garbage dumping soon.

Until then, enjoy these fun facts and photos of yourselves:

Fact 1) At the beginning of the summer, I was so excited about softball season that Corey Isenor and I collaborated on this mural. That was the last time I thought about beer league soft ball.

Fact 2) Liam Finney got a cat, who actually belonged to Breagh Potter. We took the cat to the beach on his first day out of the SPCA so he could tan.

Fact 3) Liam Finney moved to the south shore of Nova Scotia with Joel Carr. I have no idea if that is even true, but if it is, he left with my dad’s baseball glove.

Fact 4) Sometimes a guy’s just gotta turn 25, and have Aly Kelly bake him a monster truck birthday cake, and then drink a bunch of gin and play party games with Massies.

Fact 5) Moorea Hum enjoyed so many beach days this summer, that she eventually lost interest in the beach all together and instead opted to read teen lit, while polishing off a few cold ones.

Fact 6) That’s a deck. Built by Michael Mandale and Liam Finney.

Fact 7) This blog got some hatemail, and I completely lost it. So I tattooed this retort on Luke Patterson.

Fact 8 ) My lady and I drove across the country with a green burrito and a green bike on top of a green forester, so you tell me who the fuckin’ flower sniffer is now, Corey.

 Fact 9) I basically only took pictures in Winnipeg, which is a nutso fucking crazy cuckoo’s mest of a town, but if you know the right people, you can sneak into a rooftop pool, and stay at Alexis’ loft in Chinatown.

Fact 10) It’s still basically summer in Vancouver, so I’m not going to act like it is healthy to coop myself up at my computer, hyperlinking to a bunch of bullshit because I know Liam Finney at least will think it’s funny. I could be out making friends, working on my dreadslongboarding, or participating in any number of other local pastimes, but I am not, because I am never going to quit this shit. New Brunswick 4 Life.

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