Archive for the ‘Life and Times’ Category


Movies- Tarantino makes my day

November 24, 2009

Quentin Tarantino is a fuckin genius. Kill Bill is one of the most stylistically perfect films of the past twenty years (Inglorious Basterds is not too shabby either) but alongside all that brilliant filmmaking, he routinely delivers fantastic, nail-on-the-fucking-head film analysis and criticism.

Film criticism, at least at the university I went to, was pretty dry stuff. Everyone was still hung up on the ‘auteur’ theory and half the teachers were militant feminists. My buddy Sean got us (me, him, and Joe Abernathy) banned from any and all womens’ studies programs (not that we minded) for saying “Why is that when there’s a guy on the screen it’s just a guy on the screen, but throw a woman up there and suddenly it’s a STATEMENT???”

The Lab Teacher flipped on him (and me and Joe for laughing into our overpriced film theory text books) but it turns out, when there’s a guy on the screen, it’s also a statement. As Tarantino explains in this clip.


Life and Times- Hose Face Killer

September 29, 2009
photo by rob

photo by rob

The summer of 2002 was bonkers. I was working everyday on the Blackcomb Glacier filming snowboard camp kids for the camp video. The workdays started around 7:30 am and you usually finished loading footage into the computer around nine at night. But half of that you were outside on a glacier in either scorching sun or freezing snow/rain and clouds. There was no structure save that we had to hand in a 5-segment video with every kid doing a trick at teh end of the summer. It was a job designed for cocktails.

The day before we started filming Rob came home and his girlfriend had everything she owned piled into boxes on the porch and fifteen minutes later she was gone. He was ready to drink that summer and i figured he may as well have a partner. Two of our favourite chicks were also freshly single so Rob’s place became an unofficial hangout for heartbreak and sorrow. And margaritas and breakdancing contests involving handspins performed in mixing bowls of butter. The apartment became known as Chez Serious. I was always single in those days (and fairly serious) so i fit right in.Our buddy Czech had just had a cyst drained and was lamenting his lost “au jus” so he somehow fit in too.

But no one was more serious than HoseFace Killer. A girl Robbie hooked up with to help take his mind off things and put his dick into them. I guess she had a job but mostly she’d just kill a bottle of wine each morning waiting for us to get off the ski hill and hit the patio, where she’d meet us for tequila/OJs. Hoseface got her nickname because she pounded booze like she had a hose attached to her face, with a funnel on the other end. She was pretty awesome for a couple months.

When Rob and her broke it off, (I think she left town to dry out) it was decided that the old HoseFace Killer persona, with the run she’d had, deserved a proper funeral. And of course, nothing is more haunting and sombre than a marionette funeral. Czech had brought these things back from his homeland and well, it all worked out pretty nicely.

A lot of things died that summer of 2002, if you count brain cells and innocence, but from the ashes rose laughter and friendships and some of the strangest memories i have. And for us, Hoseface has become a sort of figurehead– like the Queen (if the Queen has ever put frozen hot dog buns in a margarita blender because she’s out of ice.)

RIP Hoseface. I can’t even remember your real name but I think it was Michelle.

-feetbanks  29/09/09


Life and Times- Fight Fire with Rubber

September 23, 2009
Life is about knowing when to say, 'Why the Hell not?'

Life is about knowing when to say, 'Why the Hell not?'

(Note- Start-up magazines and websites in Whistler keep asking me to write them articles and then the mag never actually happens. This piece of wisdom has been kicked around for almost a year now and never seen publication.~Feet)

Fight Fire with Rubber– Free condoms prevent that telltale burn.

By Feet Banks

The days of free love are over. You can find a lot of cheap love in Whistler, or even hand-me-down love but the free variety is a thing of the past. Luckily, we still have free condoms.

I remember the first time I bought a condom. I was seventeen and didn’t spend much time in public restrooms (or I would have certainly used a handy vending machine) so the only place to buy ‘domes’ was at the Pharmasave.

Of course there was a super cute girl working the till, the only till open (it was slow season and I was looking to catch the spring rut.) I strolled the aisles– shopping, avoiding suspicion, and making sure to read a few pages of a magazine until the coast was clear. Then, with the precision of a master criminal, I dipped out of my comfort aisle and entered the realm of prophylactics.

Condom companies probably spend millions of dollars to ensure that when some nervous kid reaches for that first pack it’s their brand he goes for. I did just that– instinctively grabbed some Trojans. But then I noticed a no-name three-pack of coloured ones- red, yellow, blue, Cool. Rubber Ducky Condoms, with a suave looking cartoon duck on the box.

Adrenaline and the sense of discovery flooded through me– not only would I (hopefully) be having sex that weekend, I’d be doing it with a yellow cock!

But the hot chick at the till was still a problem. To bypass the teenage embarrassment of buying rubbers off someone you wouldn’t mind using them on I decided to double it up and grabbed a tube of Preparation-H as well. I’m pretty sure I had no idea what Hemorrhoids were back then (still don’t really) but I knew they were embarrassing enough that maybe she wouldn’t notice that I was spending my snow-shoveling money on a pack of rainbow dong-bags.

It didn’t work. She just looked confused, as if the two purchases were somehow linked. And, I hate to admit, I didn’t ooze casual confidence either. Needless to say, I didn’t get laid that weekend anyhow so the whole effort was little more than a twisted learning experience.

The moral of the story– Stay safe and healthy and save your cash by simply picking up free condoms at the bottom of the stairs at the Health Care Centre. There’s a nice big box on the wall and never anyone around. It’s a quick in-and-out operation (not unlike teenage sex.)

Unfortunately the Public Health people don’t offer coloured condoms in their arsenal but beggars can’t be choosers, and if you get their on the right day they sometimes have those tiny satchels of Lube. I’m not going to tell you what day they re-stock the box either. For that info, you’ll have to man-up and head upstairs to ask someone. See if they have any plans for a free Prep-H box while you’re at it.


Lady Luck and Me, a history.

July 30, 2009
this movie sucked but this is a killer poster.

this movie sucked but this is a killer poster.

Oh lady Luck she’s a crafty dame.

My lucky number is 17. In grade 4, I entered a cake walk, which is a fundraiser where the people who need money bake a shitload of cakes and then tape a bunch of numbers corresponding to each cake on the floor of the school gym. Then people like me pay a buck to walk around from number to number until the music stops, at which point a winning number is called and if you are standing on that number you win the corresponding cake.
Me and my buddies at the time had been outside running for most of lunch hour– the game where you steal one guy’s shoe and play tackle keep-away until he gets it back. Then whoever got tackled loses his shoe. It’s a pretty badass game and we were hungry as a hippo so i used my last buck to enter the cake walk.
Round and round i walked, and the music sucked (I think it was Wham or something) there were only about six other people in the cake walk by this point and when the music stopped they called number seventeen. I was standing on number fifteen but before anyone could notice i slid a few feet to my left and “BINGO!” I won an icing smothered cake for me and the boys and seventeen became my lucky number and hockey jersey number for ever after.
Of course, how can it be lucky if i cheated? I know, which is probably why i’ve never really won anything since. Until now.

Thanks to snowboard photographer Mark Gribbon for turning me onto this contest at SBC Skateboard Magazine. hit the link to check it out.

Off The Wire – Summer BBQ Contest Winner

Feet Banks.

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