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Vader: Obi Wan never told you who gave you lemons!
Skywalker: He told me enough! He said LIFE gave me lemons!
Vader: No. _I_ gave you lemons!
Skywalker: No… that’s not possible!
Vader: Search your feelings, you know it to be true!
Skywalker: That’s IMPOSSIBLE!
Vader: Join me, and together we can make Lemonade and rule the galaxy as father and son!


1) Yes, all Italians do share a single genome and are all spawned from the same husk-cluster.

2) No, they are not all just whispers of past beings reliving their lives in a diminished world below consciousness, tormented by an eternity of pointless violence. They are ‘goombas’.

3) Yes the car has a name, and no it’s not “Car”. It’s “Kelman.”

4) The scene where Henry Hill is in court and stands up and starts talking to the audience isn’t actually in the movie. It only thinks it is, and we allow it to think that to keep it docile and controllable.

5) It’s about loyalty and violence. The progenitor’s requirement of pure loyalty is secured through the spreading of his flaps and the spraying from his glands. The Liota character receives the spray, and his unique response creates the ‘drama’ of the film. The character’s actions are a single long seizure, caused by rejection of the spray. Thus, he is a “goodfella’.



I’m sick of answering these questions.  Over and over. Deal with it, women.

Hello everyone. Check out my new podcast, Party of Four, a comedic role-playing podcast where myself and four comedians do dumb things.


Here is the website!


We’ve had some great guests so far, including Ian Karmel, Johnny Pemberton, and Mark Little!

Check it out!

My top 6 flicks of 2013.


6) Mandella: Long Walk to freedomelba_mandela.jpg.CROP.rectangle3-large
Great Flick, taught me a lot.





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My Brother Jeremy Dineen-Porter has written up his top 6 films of the year 2013.

Top 6 Films for 2013
(c) Jeremy Dineen-Porter

Shinkles (2013)
Starring Bill McMurray and Dankle Don

Shinkles tells the story of a whale-oil merchant in New England ca. 1979. The business is booming, as whale-oil is still the cleanest burning fuel we’ve ever used as a species.

Shinkles (McMurray), moves to town after and relaxes. Later that day, Shinkles thinks he should go get some clean burning whale oil to light his lamps, as its getting dark and the Porry Cob, a local ghost, is said to prey on people in the dark. Shinkles is also superstitious, I should mention.

He meets the whale oil salesman (Don), and then the plot really gets going.

What I liked about this omvie was that I liked Ghostbuster and Rushmore and Life Aqua, and so I liked mcMurray. Good job McMurray, and have a happy 2013. Great work in Zombieland, great camaeo I men. It’s not good work but it’s camaeo.


6th top movie of 2013

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Guys, big news.  I’ve been nominated for this year’s annual NOW MAGAZINE “Best of Toronto” user poll.  I’m up for Best Male Stand-Up, against some pretty talented people.


Nevertheless, I’d really appreciate it if you voted for me, and maybe if your friends are disposed to voting, alert them as well.

Please click on my face below to bring you to the voting page.

Bridgetown Stand up







Or click this link if faces scare you


Please tweet/Fbook/reddit or whatever if you feel that you’d like to.


Thanks a million,



Some great new updates on my BLOG.  Math facts and some interesting facts about American and Canadian differences

Dear Publishists and Quintelligents,

I am a fairly unknown poet/noveller in the downtown region of Toronto, Canada’s most populous City.  It’s because of that that I feel that I am overqualified to write a novel, that and my years of office temp work.  But still, I have decided to let you see my proposal for my next novel so that you can go ahead and accept it.

My book is going to be called “As Yet Untitled” which is extremely clever of me to do.  I know this because I have seen several examples of similar titles, all of which are very clever, for instance Abby Hoffman’s “Steal This Book” and his follow up “Flying Kites: String and Canvas go Zoom”, or Joseph Heller’s famous “Untitled: The Return of Dr. Malvolius!”

Since my main goal has been to try to transfigure the features of novelish fiction and leave it an unrecognizable corpse, with my new athletic and turgid style surmounting the corpse, baying at the pregnant harvest moon of art, which in turn reflects the light of the solar disk of phoebean inspiration back from its craterous face down onto the new style standing proudly on the corpse.  Of course, naturally, the light will also probably bathe the corpse, but that’s a consequence of my style having tarried, straddling the corpse for too long and risking capture by the park ranger service of criticism.  So be it.

My principle characters are all Goths, who are full of rage for being so superior to society.  I chose Goth culture because the aura of darkness that hangs upon them like a withered festoon reflects their inner tundral emotional environment, the rough earth of sorrow that lets grow only those few shrubs and the yellow flowers with the spiny leaves.

I had lain (you would expect laid, but I prefer to use the classical past-participlization of the verb ‘to lay’.  When you’ve read Beowulf as many times as I have, anything less than the primeval saxonish language looks glum, and very dejected) the idea down on a napkin at this theme rave I went to.  Only children of parents who were members of the Masons could go, so there were a lot of napkins.  Peep this shit right here.  There isn’t a POV character, there isn’t an omniscient third person, there isn’t any sort of perspective at all.  The events are described in such a way that they can only be understood by thinking about them in a mirror.  That’s my own mental wizardry, so that’s a copyright.  Sorry guys.

The characters, Delmar, Sholin, Skice, and Breece, are all from the suburbs, and Delmar’s parents are both accountants.  Sholin’s parents are dead, but child services didn’t want him so he just moved back home and raised himself.  Skice is an aspiring writer, and in him I put my most autobiographical bricks and stones.  For instance, Skice isn’t from Canada, as I am, but he always aspired to meet someone who was.  That’s just one example.  I have at least thirty that I could give you, but I won’t.  Breece is sort of a fat kid who no one understands, but he’s really got a heart of gold, or another heavy element.  I was thinking of making his heart out of carbon, or out of a mythical element like adamantium or 100% pure poecite, but it’s Skice who’s the poet so it would make sense if Skice’s heart was made from poecite.  Therein lies the crux of chapter 6.  Anyhow, Breece only goes along with the rest of the group because they make him feel wanted.  You could try to guess why he feels like he needs to feel wanted, but you wouldn’t be successful.  The thing is that his parents really love him, but he’s got “American Youth” sickness, a virus that the book postulates is the source of all the annoying traits that American youths have.  Being from Canada, I can write this objectively, because here, children are well adjusted, respected, and loved.  They are automatically loving people who are seldom fans of raucous musicians.  The Canadian government’s recommended diet contains a paragraph on Mozart under the heading of breakfast.

Anyhow, the book.  The book takes place at Camp Wanatanabe, over two summers.  The first summer we see that they meet and become a sort of “crew” or “posse”.  They invent their own language, which is really quite amazing in itself because their language is based on the tonal intervals between the words which are not spoken, but sung in a deep voice that sounds like this: “woooooooohhhh  wuuuuuuuu u wuuuu”.  They all agree to never change and to meet back the next year.  The second summer they return, and Breece is taller and thinner, and that starts off a complete ruckus.  Skice forgets the language, though they made a pact to remember it, and Sholin doesn’t wear black clothing anymore because he got a girlfriend and was “subverted” by the vaginal animal.  The book theorizes that it is the vagina that instills the more boring “civilization” characteristics into the penis of the man, which then brings those characteristics by active transport through the cell membranes into the mitochondria, where the adenosine triphosphate that they produce is replaced with boring triphosphate particles.  How ironic!

Most of the rest of the summer takes place in a hazy black and white sequence (the book actually describes everything using monochrome grammar and syntax) which turns out to be a dream.  But you don’t know this until you see an old man, who keeps falling down throughout the book (as a metaphor for Old Man “United States of America’s Democratic Mission” collapsing under its own beleaguered inertial inertia.  The man’s name is even Usad Inertio (from U.S.A. Democracy)[1]) falls and doesn’t bleed.  Instead he’s full of wires, which is like, HOLD ON, because old men don’t change from cells and fibrous organs into wires and solder, or do they?  It leaves you thinking.

The book makes extensive use of new vocabulary from the language invented by our heroes, for instance, smulch, which is Merlog (their language) for schmaltz.  Also, binnder, vb. int. 1. to fall while being an old man  eg. the man binndered on the roof of my uncle’s sedan, ruining our vacation for ever.  My father never forgave him, and they still exchange business cards which contain false information every Christmas during the “we should see each other more this year” portion of the sacred festival.

Finally, you will note that there is no antagonist in this story, and that’s because a) writing a story without a conflict for the characters to overcome has never been done before b) America has enough to deal with these days in terms of antagonists, what with the Italian people, the German people, the French people, the Spanish people, half the British people, all middle eastern people, Russian people, Korean people, and Japanese people, to make a short list, all vehemently playing antagonist for the grand historical polemic that is the U.S.A.

Some words on the ending: A conclusion by David Dineen-Porter © 2006

The ending will not consist of “ ‘By Gelfling Hands or by none’ read the prophecy, and so Djenn thrust the shard into the heart of the Dark Crystal, healing it and filling the land with fecund bounty.  ‘When three suns become one, what is sundered and undone, shall be healed, by Gelfling hand or by none’ he repeated to everyone present, to explain the transformation they had witnessed.”

Thank you,

David Dineen-Porter

[1] This idea won the Week’s Best Single Golden Bean of the Year Award for July 14th, 2003.

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