Fat Dog

In this episode we meet the new staff of the Fat Dog Network, Joel reaffirms his goal to quit smoking, Barry gives us his hot take on Ted Bundy and JayFM plays a song about Batman!

Welcome to the Fat Dog Podcast! Joel talks about the previous version of the show, plays the song "Morning Wood", Barry Barr tells us how to properly operate our cellphones and Maurice the Mail Man drops by with a mysterious package for Joel!

In this season premiere, we introduce the video component of Fat Dog w/ J. Francis Morgan, featuring the return of Barry Barr. In this episode we talk about mental health, living with depression, stress leave and Barry Barr gives us his opinions on Tattoos for some comedic relief. Before a music video for the JayFM track Houndstooth, Joel reads the post "Un Destin Inéluctable" from the Fat Dog Blog.

Original Description from mofudge.com, 2014: Gather 'round as Tyler Fudge, Joel Morgan, Steph, Travis and Amo send out 2014 in style! Recorded live at Casa de Fudge in front of a captive audience of one, our heroes navigate the fun and games of "Walrus" and "One, True, Three!" Plus! A Massive, HUGE announcement for 2015. Happy New Year from us here at The Semi-Awesome Podcast, and Mo'Fudge Productions.

When I thought about doing this, I truly did consider ranking it all, but I just can’t do that. There’s no way I could weigh Sorry to Bother You against A Star is Born. It’s apples and oranges, yeah, it’s all fruit, but you can’t make me choose. You make me choose and I’ll ask for fruit salad—every time. Therefore, both of these lists are done in no particular order. I wanted to keep it to five titles per category, otherwise this article would be super long.

Today is Christmas Eve, and I’ve been up since four thirty this morning because, well, I’m a little kid. For twenty years, Christmas Eve was something I craved every December. Yesterday, as I sat in traffic, I thought about myself at thirteen—salivating for Christmas eve, my family’s big day. My dad owned a well operating business when I was little; Caliber Well Operators. He did well for himself and a few employees but was needed all the time.

I’m a warrior standing on a battlefield. My armour is freshly cut and fit to perfection, holding to the muscles on my body like they were a part of my skin. Between plates, Kevlar and carbon fibre protect my soft joints from shrapnel, debris and the occasional blade.

This post contains spoilers for A Star is Born. There’s one thing that really sticks out to me in the midst of the debate about Baby, it’s Cold Outside , the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer special , and Fairy Tale of New York, is a general lack of willingness. Willingness to even open one’s self to another point of view.

My cane, made from only the finest novelty-grade peppermint, rested safely under my gold and diamond ring. My watch reflected the soft lights above us back in a million different directions, as did my jacket.

I just had revelation. Girly mugs are the least of the things that I have that would make people’s brows go up. At the moment, I’m sitting at my desk wearing a tank top and a pair of navy leggings with white stripes. Behold:

I couldn’t have been more than thirteen, if that. My friend Tyler and I were inseparable during this summer and one afternoon we found ourselves at his father’s work place. We milled around outside while his dad disappeared indoors; I remember that it was hot, and the bricks of the building magnified the heat from the concrete, baking me alive.

It’s been a weird week and I’ve been trying to put out a post since Monday night, but I just couldn’t seem to wrestle one out of me. Last night I wrote to the point where I was happy with what I had put down—a far cry from Monday. But I figured I’d continue tonight and complete all the thoughts I started. I still have one more day of work, and then I feel like the real test will begin. I’m not sure what has made me feel this way, but I hope I can figure it out.

I’ve been a little boy, I’ve been a teenage boy, I’ve been a young man, and now I’m trying my best to be a real man. I live my life in opposition to the more normalized, standard issued northern Albertan male personality type, and have made the effort to bring my style in line with my personality.

I came to the realization this morning that I like winter more than I ever let on. I think it started when I was little and saw the Empire Strikes Back. The opening scene with Luke on his Tauntaun, traversing the landscape of Hoth in a blizzard struck a chord with me. When you’re a kid in Grande Prairie, winter is all you have.

This post was written on the eighth and I’ve been holding on to it since then. I’ve been scared to put it out, mainly because it was written in anger. A positive, transformative anger, but it didn’t start that way.

A few days ago, a twenty-one-year-old white male named Kane Kosolowsky set off two bombs in the basement of a Sherwood Park community centre. He was found in his car, suffering from a gunshot wound, from which he later died. The RCMP has indicated that the blasts weren’t related to a group or ideology, and that’s led to coverage like this…

I have one more shift, and then finally, after sixteen straight days of work with only two Sundays off, I can be free. There’s real poison in the ice cream now, and it’s in every bite. Even if my bite is as sweet as can be, someone at the table beside me is choking. It’s a stressful way to spend my days, and it does a real disservice to the headspace available, but hey—I suppose that’s work for everyone.

I wanted to get this blog done before I go to work for two reasons: the first being the benefit of having it done when I come home tonight, allowing me to just dive into my short stories, and the second is because I need to unpack this little shadow following me around.

I stayed up far too late last night, as the timing of my post could tell you. I didn’t feel like daylight savings time had really taken effect until tonight. It’s six o’clock and it’s practically twilight out there—I didn’t miss this at all. I’m worried about my seasonal depression coming back early this year, but I think it’s a baseless worry. I’m a different person now than I was last year, and though I don’t expect to sail through this winter as a happy, carefree boi, I think my life...

It’s so late. I’ve lived through one a.m. twice now thanks to the Cher-like powers of Daylight Saving’s Time, and I’ve yet to crack my word count for the day. But, here’s the thing. This sixteen hundred words, it’s just about the novel for National Novel Writing Month, and I work on my short stories every day now in the spirit of that, I put out twelve hundred words tonight and finally finished one of them.