On finding oneself on the frontpage advertising for Toronto's gay scene magazine:

Slightly alarming, until I remembered that the photos were legitimate, and that I had spent the entire day totally clothed for my $100. That's right: totally clothed. That's me there, second from the left.

On the use of roman numerals to impress higher-ups:

The phrase, "someone ordered 39 boxes, which in roman numerals is XXXIX boxes!" should be used gingerly, and only when the number comes as good news. Not, for example, "your cat's dead, and it got dragged behind my car for 8 blocks, which is only VIII blocks if you think about it."

On the CBC lockout:

Please, for the love of god, I need my CBC back. I need my Metro Morning, and my Andy Barrie, and my Beyond Burgers and my and my and my. If anyone's in Toronto and free on Wednesday night they might consider coming to the End the CBC Lockout Party. I will be attending with my mom. That's right! You can all meet the most kickass (and elusive!) Wendy B!

On going swing dancing with a young, Jewish, neoconservative opera singer:

Why do I do these things to myself? Dum-dum dum dum dum and Lundy Hop! Although it is very nice to look at a whole ballroom of people dancing the same dance to a live swing band. Who wants to come out on Saturday?