I've watched like a million X-files (well, 150 or so) episodes now, and I've noticed that every time anyone switches bodies with Mulder, they immediately forget everything else going on, and use Mulder's body to try and get Scully drunk. They never succeed, but they come pretty close. This really makes me wonder A, why he never tries it, and B, why Scully doesn't ever make a move. After all, she always falls for it, despite saying all the while "Mulder, you're acting weird" and so forth.

"Someday, my father will die, and I shall take his place"

As I grow older, I find myself incresingly less content with life in general. I don't know exactly why this is - I've achieved pretty much every goal I'd set out for myself by this age - but the fact remains that I'm just getting bored of it. I mean, yes, there is satisfaction in saying "I want to make $200,000 (in total) by the time I'm 25, and being able to say you have definately achived that goal, along with other social and self-satisfying things, but it's just really not enough to make setting more goals seem completely worth the effort. I find it odd that in highschool, if you have a lousy time of it (not really speaking for myself, I really enjoyed most of my highschool years despite hating most of the people I know and the highschool itself), you're told that "things get better", and that this is universally accepted.

Things don't really seems to change that much, and I'm pretty sure a great many people would agree with me. Nearly everyone I still know that I went to highschool with are still fundamentally the same people doing the same things, just in different places and so forth.

Let's do an analog here:

Life is like driving through Montana. It's a very pretty place at the start, when you first cross in from Canada and see the deserts and big sky, the hoodoos, the antelope, and the sunset in your rearview mirror. You first night smoking a joint, serenaded by the wildlife and looking at the sky from under a massive willow tree is like nothing else, and you really feel like the galaxy is at a standstill for a few moments.

Then, after camping in and passing through the wildlands, as you start to run into society and civilization, you start to realize that the beauty of the place, at least for the people who live here, is just a lie. You pass by a thousand signs with anti-meth slogans, a lame attempt to halt the spread of death amongst a poor people. You pass crumbling tin shacks with toys all over the lawn, sunken mines and abandonded factories, and miles of dirt and discomfort. Your place under a beautiful sky is replaced by a dumpster behind a packed campground toilet, looking out on a smog-covered tralier park, and your wildlife is replaced by crying babies and traffic.

Just when you get sick enough of this to want to end your roadtrip and just go home, bam! You're back in the desert, looking at beautiful formations in the rocks, herds of buffalo crossing the road, and finally, you're in the Black Hills, which is possibly the closest place to celestial in North America.

All the while, you meet people, some nice, some not, and you get to see alot of things. But next time, wouldn't you skip the middle, and just take the shortcut to South Dakota?



This is really a thouroughly depressing topic, and I don't feel like writing anymore.

I recently added Sam Nock to my FB. Honestly, I had some trepidations about doing so, as she seemed to despise me the last time I spoke to her, for reasons that were never given or explained to me. Despite those concerns, I think it was possibly one of the better choices I've made, simply because I finally have someone intellectually stimulating to talk to.

I mean no offense to anyone else with this statement.

Lisa, you are brilliant and wonderful, but part of what makes you wonderful is that we've got alot in common, including our outlook on the world, for the most part. While we talk about and, uh, do stimulating things, it's pretty hard to have a debate with someone who agrees with you 90% of the time. Hell, even when we argue about little shit, we end up laughing or agreeing anyway.

Similarly, Lindsay, you are highly intelligent, and if I remember right, usually a riot to hang out with. But I don't think you really have much feeling about politics, metaphysics, etc. etc. It's not a bad thing - it's just not your thing. And, to be completely honest, you don't argue - you just get pissed off and go quiet. I might be wrong, but this is how it seems to me, anyway.

The rest of my friends (which, let's face it, now consist of Paul and Brianna, one of whom I don't really have anything in common with, and the other just makes me sigh constantly) don't seem to care about the same things I care about, and if they do, have never said anyhting about it to me. Every time I say something remotely debatable or, for lack of a better term, everyone just shuts up or agrees with me. They lack passion, or at least passion for things I'm aware of.

Sam and I agree on the fundamentals (the FB debate, at least the public part, is a little rough, but I assure you we're debating, not just arguing), but are on radically different sides in regards to most else. I personally can see this leading to a hella lot of interesting conversations that I just don't get to have with anyone since I stopped seeing my Dad on a daily basis.

I know it doesn't maybe seem blogworthy, but I'm rather happy about it anyway.

I haven't posted in a while, having spent my time writing reviews for all the shitty movies I've seen. That blog will be opening sooner or later, once there's a few reviews up.

Speaking of movies, I'm watching "Fright Night". It's about this kid who thinks his neibour is a vampire, yadda yadda.

What I'm wondering is, seeing as how the police are well aware that he thinks this, how they're going to explain killing three people (thus far). I mean, yes, they WERE vampires and ghouls and all manner of nasty things, but seeing as how they disolve or turn human when they die, it seems like it might be sort of hard to justify stabbing them with stakes and such. I'd at least hide the bodies or something - having your mom come home to find your ex-best friend impaled on part of your coffee table just seems like a lame situation to be in.

Lisa's cat and I have reached a truce. He'll stop being a little shit, and I'll stop thinking about how he would taste with a little BBQ sauce.

Don't have much else to say, just thought I should state that I didn't end up killing the little fucker.

Fuck your cat. Seriously. We live in a tiny little 6 room house without any internal door. A cat is a semi-domesticated carnivore, and completely useless for people like us. I honestly don't even find the little piece of shit cute anymore, and the fact that putting a .22 in his head would probably get us kicked out is the only reason he's still in this house. So figure it out. Find some way to keep him out of my fucking face for a little while, or I will erect my own "cat fence", which will most likely be hooked up to a wall outlet and could double as a border fence for some Somali refugee camp.

A dog is at least useful in that it guards the house, not to mention listens to what you tell it to do. These are the sort of things I want in a pet: Obedience, caring, and companionship, none of which should be a whole lot to ask for out of an at most semi-sentient animal who relies on me for it's survival. If I wanted to have a shitty, unsanitary animal pissing me off, breaking my shit, ignoring me except to attack me, and going through my stuff, I would have had a kid.

As is, if you don't sort your cat out, I'm going to start making friends with just-off-the-boat Chinese people.

Literally everything I've done today has led me back to this guy for some reason. I shit you not, it is more than a little freaky.



I realize the sound quality is literally from the turn of the century, and it is rather nice singing, but I gotta say, that REALLY doesn't seem like it would be worth loosing your balls over.

For those who haven't happened on the subject already, the castrati were male opera singers who were, well, castrated. The castration was done before puberty, in order to insure the singer never lost that ultra-high soprano sound to a nasty thing like natural development. This was very common at one point, believe it or not, as many poor families with musically gifted young boys could easily perform the castration themselves, then sell their "talent" to a church or something similar. The fellow in the video was the last of the castrati, nowadays the high male soprano is reached through intensive voice training.

For some reason, I can't shake the feeling I learned all this from Paul Harvey somehow.

What else? I don't understand tofu. I'm watching this movie, and the protaganist is a vegitarian. In the scene I just saw, he conviced his buddy to fry up a big block of tofu for him on his resturant's grill.

This raises a few questions for me:

1. Who eats anything that comes in a brick, when it's pretty common knowlege that anything shaped like a brick sucks ass? Just off the top of my head, here's a few "brick" foods that come to mind: Spam, cat food, imitation processed chicken. So, tofu gets the joy of being catagorized alongside pig entrails, chicken entrails, and leftover bits of Mexicans (or whatever else is cheaper than real chicken). Yum.

2. You COOK tofu? Really? I mean, it's soy bean or some shit, right? I can't really imagine how cooked tofu is as opposed to raw, but I imagine it would all be a goopy, flavorless mess no matter how you prepare it. I've had soy milk before, so, quite honestly, the taste of burnt shitty soy milk is sort of what I expect it would be like.

3. How many people walk around with a complete (but raw) supper? Furthur more, how many people have you ever seen walk into a resturant and insist the chef cook with the ingredients they've brought in? Sort of makes me think lack of meat in your diet makes you lose it a little.


Of course, I could probably spend forever questioning this movie in itself. Do they really make prosthetic meat tenderizing hands? Do all women really cream themselves over you when you nearly let them get raped? Does being a vegitarian because you "love animals" balance out the fact that you spend ALOT of time in a slaughterhouse? Is treating your voodoo form of the plague really as easy as just killing people on a subway, cutting of a boil for each one you kill, and storing that boil in a jar full of barbicide? Etc. etc.

I gotta stop watching so many movies, or life should become more like movies. One or the other, please. I'm actually starting to get a bit annoyed with how unrealistic absolutely everything is in the media. I nearly said nowadays, but let's face it, even before Marconi patented his radio, and Herr Hurst waged his propaganda paper wars, the media has been more or less completely full of shit.

I had something else I wanted to write about, but I can't remember right now. I've blogged an awful lot in the last few days, so perhaps it's for the best. I hate being out of weed. I focus too much.

I still can't think of anything to write about "Finding Forrester". I really don't connect with this movie, or even like it a whole bunch. Not to mention that, at least in the case of the main character, there really isn't any actual character growth in the movie. I'd rather write about character development in a movie like Saw, which features virtual no character development, but at least doesn't bother pretending to.

Even writing about a video game storyline seems like it would be easier. I really just don't like this movie.

Here is a plot summary, as I have watched this piece of shit about 30 times now"

Jamal is a stereotypical black kid living in the Bronx. He does very poorly in school, and hopes to play basketball some day. This changes as a result of two things:

1. He turns out to be brilliant, something that apparently went unnoticed throughout the first 17 years of his life, but which comes to light after he takes some type of aptitude test at school. This, plus his basketball ability, earn him a spot at some posh academy.

2. While breaking into Sean Connory's house, he forgets his backpack when Connory startles him. His backpack contains some writing (no, you don't actually get to hear any of this "Brilliant" prose, excepting a little bit in the last 5 minutes of the movie), which Connory, a reclusive author, reads and marks. Jamal goes back for his bag, and becomes friends with the old man (who apparently forgets that he had to chase the guy out with a knife only a day earlier).

After that, he starts to excel at both basketball, and writing. I think the character development is in here somewhere, though it's horribly done, as Jamal basically did both those things at the start of the movie. While the relationship with Connory improves his writing skills, and does indeed help change Connory's character, it really doesn't do shit for Jamal's development, most of which apparently happens off screen.

Nothing much really happens. Besides the first and last 20 minutes, the movie may as well have been a series of "Jamal workin' the typewriter" and "Jamal shootin' hoops" montages, since virtually no important dialog takes place, and the story doesn't advance. At one point, Jamal is walking down the street at night, and a cop car passes him with the lights flashing. Time slows ever so slightly as Jamal glaces over his shoulder at the 5-0. Starved for some sort of plot development, both Lisa and I came up with what turned out to be wild and radical suppositions for what was about to happen next. Did something happen to the black guy he lives with (alluded to being his brother, though being a movie about a black guy, the word "brother" is somewhat difficult to put into a specific context), or his moms? Is Jamal about to be hasseled over nothing, potentially destroying his future? The suspense builds, and the scene changes to... Typewriter montage. This is arguably the most exciting moment in the movie, on par with the moment you think Jamal may have found a rival on his own basketball squad (who doesn't come back in the movie after his first appearance).

The movie more or less climaxes with Jamal missing two penalty shots, which is supposed to show he's changed his focus from basketball to writing. As he previously sunk fifty identical shots earlier in the movie, it's supposedly implied he intentionally threw the game, something I have issue with for two reasons:

1. He denies throwing the game untill the very end of the movie. That said, when he goes to play basketball with his friends (who have also developed, becoming more accepting of his literary ways)as the credits roll at the end of the film, he sucks horribly, and can't sink a shot. This leads me to think he's just bullshitting Connory, and the more I think about it, the less I can distinctly remember him even clearly stating he missed on purpose.

2. It doesn't really make much sense. By throwing the game, he risked getting kicked out of school, something only prevented by Connory finally leaving his apartment (moar developmentz!) and coming to the school to back Jamal up. Besides that, he also pissed off a ton of people. Had he won, it's not like he wouldn't have been allowed to write shit anymore. He just would have also been a state champion basketball player, as well as a "brilliant" writer. To compound this, his reasons for throwing the game more or less come down to his dislike of his english teacher and girlfriend's dad.

Really, when I watch this movie, it reminds me of the time I tried to make a bong out of galvanized piping, a socket set, and this really cool skull jar I used to have. While it was a wicked and ambitious concept, it ended up being loosely thrown together due to poor materials and lack of specific plans, and impatience. It turned out to be neat looking but completely non-functional as a smoking device. This movie is that bong. It aims high, with a good message and all, but it's like they forgot to plan how to get from point A to point B, and I honestly have to wonder if they even bothered to write a script, given that there are maybe 30 sentences within the entire movie that actually relate to anything that's going on.

Alternatively, it's alot like American History X, provided you either end the movie with everyone still being a skinhead, or only watch the first and last 15 minutes of it, ignoring the excitment of a gunshot in the last five or so.

I don't know. Watching this movie the first time was as stimulating as trying to escape a wheel-chain bound zombie. Twice was like trying to find meaning in the raindrops on your windshield during a mushroom trip, and now that I'm on my 10th or so time around, I really wish I could "Find Forrester" myself and kick his ass, as I've seen this shitty film enough times to probably successfully make an intelligent and "true to home" porno spoof out of it (which would be titled Fucking Forrester, after the numerous times I've thought exactly that), and still can't finish this essay.

Both Tumbler Ridge and Dawson Creek have been featured pages on the wiki now. The world must be a really boring place.

Everyone sells out their values eventually. This has been proven by virtually everyone I know.

I personally think it's better to just have anthropomorphic values, which aren't in any way solid, to begin with. Yes, you seem a little unstable at first, but when you're the only person you know who is anything like what you've been saying you'd like to be like, I think you're doing ok.

Success is pretty relative when you think about it.


In other news, it's really nice being able to BBQ in november.

I just came across this:

http://news.yahoo.com/part-sun-turns-stormy-benevolent-monster-213318304.html

while killing time waiting for a download. I don't know if you've heard me mention this before, but solar cycles are one of the few things that lend some merit to the 2012 theory. I don't really recall the specifics right now, having just smoked a bowl, but solar flares strip atmosphere, or could massively irradiate the earth, or something similar. Contrary to what the article says, we've actually been experiencing unprecedented increased in solar flares in the proper times recently, and around 2012 is supposed to be the epoch. So, stock up on spam and dehydrated bananas and shit.

We use alot of electricity at our house, because, well... electricity is what seperates us from the cavemen? Anyway, we always leave lights on, have two big TVs, electric heat, fridge, oven, and water heater, etc. Cause of this, I've been really following the "smart meter" thing lately.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, smart meters are the new power meters being installed in British Columbia and Ontario, replacing whatever non-digital meters we were using before. They measure your power usage exactly, as in, when you turn on a light, it measures the 60w or 300w or whatever change in your power usage instantly, so you can be billed acordingly.

This sounds pretty cool, but unfortunately no one's power bill seems to do anything but increase after having the non-optional new meters installed. Add in the controversy over them allegedly letting off deadly radiation, and the smart meters don't really seem that nice.

I personally just can't get over the fact that no one is worried about the potential "invasion of privacy", considering the big fuss made over those airport x-ray things just a little while ago. You know which one I mean; a bunch of obese people got all whiney because the scanning machine could see how many rolls they had and their veiny nipples and so forth, showing the world (of x-ray technicians, anyway) that they are secretly overweight piggies.

Really, a smart meter can be just as bad. Think about it. My fridge has a little 10 watt or whatever lightbulb in it. Every time I open it, that light comes on, and my smart meter picks up a 10w change in my power use. When I open the freezer, I let cold air out, setting off the thermostat and starting up the electrically powered process that cools my freezer back off. Turning on the oven to bake my carb-loaded curley fries uses ridiculous amounts of energy, etc. etc. I could take this even farther, to the point where a smart meter picks up the amount of energy used by a scanner during my checkout at a grocery store, giving the power company a loose estimation of how much I'm buying there, but I think you get the idea.

So really, a smart meter gives away that you're a fatty with veiny nipples just as much as an x-ray machine. And when you stop to consider that a record now exists of what time you watch your TV, turn your computer on, what time you turn off the lights and go to bed or leave the house, etc. etc., you think more people would be more concerned.

-----

In other news, I don't really like "Deadliest Warrior". It's one of those really simple shows for mass consumption that attempt to show a "scientific" way of testing something that isn't really that scientific. I'm watching 'Pirates Vs. Knights', for example, and it looks like the knight is gonna kick ass because he's got thick steel armour. What this doesn't take into account is what the fight would be like on a boat, which is where a pirate is most likely to be found. Yeah, you can take a pistol shot point blank, but that much metal strapped to your body makes it REALLY hard to swim. It's also pretty hard to come up with some way of scientifically representing a fight between a guy who's trained his whole life for war and a guy who could have just said "fuck it!" and jumped on a boat two weeks prior.

I've been playing alot of online games with my buddy Paul lately. We have decided to form a "clan", for the sake of lulzy goodness. This strikes me as slightly nerdy, but the thought of loading a stagecoach to the tits with tomahawk-and-molotov-hurling cowboys makes me chuckle.

I don't really have much else to say, I just felt I should blog something.

Print.

No chance of money, eh?

To the Dawson friends:

If you have not spoken to me in over a year, maybe at least pretend to be interested before asking me to hook you up with Prince George drugs. Simply asking, then going offline when I say no, kind of makes me think you're a piece of shit.

Most of you have done this, with the exception of Lindsay, who doesn't do drugs, and Brianna, who asked, but talks to me every day anyway, and I will re-iterate what I said before I moved:

I don't miss any of you.

Dennis "NOFX Douchebag" Demoira

Dennis Demiria has been trying to talk to me on MSN for a while now. For those unfamilliar with that name, Dennis is one of those casual aquiantances I rarely mention because no one seems to think he exists.

I can, however, explain why that is in this case. For one, Dennis lived here about a month, as far as I can tell, and spent that month alternating between doing ecstasy and playing guitar with me and Lucas (who is also the only person I'm personally aware of that has ever met my elusive friend Ian, not counting Alex, who has a lame memory, and the 'Slyder' bunch, who are all much older. Infact, he probably knows more about him nowadays than I do). Accordingly, he wasn't really exposed to many people, and the person who introduced us (Alex) is typical of his other friends - she spent enough time being stoned that she apparently has no memory of him. If you couple that with the fact that he was very much so a self-righteous prick, it actually makes alot of sense why no one remembers him.

Anyway, Dennis was essentially an asshole, and really the only reason I remember him myself is that he'd occasionally show up at my Grandparent's (where I was living at the time), all strung out, and looking for someone to take care of him.

Eventually, his constant trips and general douchery got him kicked out of his Aunt's place, where he was staying, and of course, he called me. Alot of people do for some reason, most likely because I was the first of my friends to own a car. After another talk down session, it was decided I would drive him to Grande Prarie.

To make a really long story short, I did. And despite his assurances, I never, ever heard from him again, nor was I repaid the favour. Really, Brendan Terrel is likely the only person I've helped in this way who has.

Anyway. I don't get why he's trying to talk to me now, so it is block and delete time before I end up 'helping' him with some other shit. Shoulda helped me track that acid down when I asked ya, fucker.

I think Tylar's becomming a communist. This makes me lawl for two reasons:

1. No one with a little thing called 'common sense' actually thinks Communism works. The fact it's completely failed all across the planet, literally everywhere it's been tried, and typically sells out all of it's principles by the time the collapse happens, should be some kind of really, really obvious evidence.

2. While I have no respect for Tylar (she's a weak-willed lying bitch 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time, you've just fallen for her bullshit - I know you may disagree with this, dear reader, but consider how I feel about most of your shitty loser friends. I also realize "people change", so I suppose I should change the "is" to a "was" for fairness), I know she's intelligent enough to realize what most people realize when they hit 15 or 16and start reading newspapers: Communism is just a sham. Even in it's purest form, there is more chance of the rapture occuring (and being a postitive thing) than a functional nation successfully adopting Communism. Cuba doesn't count - it's socialist at best, and has/had an excellent dictator. Neither does Poland, or Czechloslovakia, two of the few places any form of far-left system has worked.


It's not that capitalism is any better. I'm quite honestly becoming convinced the earth would be better off losing three quarters of it's population and simply returning to a form of agrarian anarchism. It's not horribly realistic, but it's much more honest than any other system I can think of, and still has a better chance of happening than working communism.


I started school again today. Can you tell?

Related to that, I'm supposed to write an essay on this movie called "Finding Forrester", which is a good show, but not well suited to writing about in regards to character development. For one, almost all of the main character's real developments happen off-screen, and are mostly just alluded to. Forrester, by contrast, changes significantly throughout the whole movie, something which is in fact brought on by Jamal's (the main character) lack of change from his principles. On top of that, I can't really emphathize with an inner city black kid, since.. well, I'm not an inner city black kid. As a matter of fact, I've never even met a black person while sober.

I guess we'll see how it goes.

My cat, Bear, shits on the bed. I don't know what to do about it. While I've always wondered what a cat would taste like, little Bear is like the cutest little shoulder kitten ever, and I can't really bring myself to get rid of him in any sense of the word.

He'll spend most of his time climbing your body or sitting on your shoulders, and he growls and roars like a tiny bear (thus the name). He is also one of the few cats that comes when you call them.

But, in the end, he still shits the bed, and I'm pretty much out of ideas.

I am tempted to call this "Character Development"

You know, now that I'm a little bit older and actual realize people are somewhat important, I really hope I told you that at some point.

I mean, I was a HUGE dick to you in alot of ways. I still think it balances out, to be honest, but you were always a pretty good friend when it really came down to it, and that counts for alot.

If not, consider this my "Safeway" moment. I've got a freakish memory, so you might not remember what I'm talking about.

But I feel better about it now anyway.


----

I just noticed that Badlands has virtually the exact same soundtrack as True Romance. I wish I could have been the guy who got rich making xylophone music for light hearted serial killer movies.

I have decided that I'd like to go to Cambodia some day. In order to do this, I plan to fake my own death eventually to escape any sort of financial entanglement and family life I will inevitably have. This will be easier than I first had thought, and will allow me enough money to get whereever I need to be, provided the economy doesn't collapse in the next thirty years or so. I don't think I'd come back, just steadily drift around Eurasia until I died, or got tired of it and decided to move to the states.



I'm not really joking.

Maybe I just don't understand the situation.

Every time I read about Greece in the news, I laugh a little*. What a bunch of complete fuck ups.

If your country is flat broke, your economy failing, etc. etc., maybe protesting isn't a great idea, because:

A) Between the infighting and the lack of any sort of organization, the protest will achieve pretty much nothing. In fact, it's actually pretty hard to figure out what you're really protesting. "Oh noes, our country is broke. I will go hold a sign and throw molotovs until this is fixed!"? "We are out of money, so I will go and stand infront of parliament!"?

B) Going on strike because your country is broke is like drilling holes in your leaky boat to help let water out. Seriously, is the average IQ of a Greek somewhere around room temperature?

Really, I guess point A is the same as point B. "Protesting" the fact you live in a shitty country just makes absolutely no sense to me. It's like protesting about it being Thursday.

It's not like you're going to get paid more money or something because you're being a little bitch about things. Your country will just sink, and we'll get to see what happens when a country completely collapses and can't just start a World War to fix it.


*The fact that most of the pictures included are of Greeks dressed up as Spartans, carrying garbage can lids as hoplite shields and wielding crick bats and wooden swords, does not help this. Seriously, I am sadly not joking about this, some of them even have red capes and all. The news footage looks like a mix between Alexander and The Warriors.

Some people look at him and go "wow, that looks really dull and lonely.", get their stuff, then leave.

I look at him and go "Wow, you make more money than I ever will simply by sitting on your couch and redistributing what someone else worked for." and wish I could have gotten in on it at some point.

I think it's funny how drug dealers are percieved nowadays. If you sell drugs, you're looked at as some sort of failure.

Really, let's think about this. Person A goes to school, works hard, gets into a good university, spends thousands of dollars to study up, then becomes, say, a doctor, making around a hundred grand a year, most of which goes to paying back the schooling they've spent most of their life taking.

Person B quits highschool at sixteen, and goes to work at McDonald's. He starts selling on the side. Assuming he sells at least three ounces a day (which I will usually buy by myself when I pick up, provided I have the money), he's made AT LEAST a hundred dollars, plus whatever his real job pays. That adds up to a minimum of around 30 thousand dollars a year. That's nearly a third of what person A makes, minimum. If person B sells more than that, which is incredibly likely, they will make even more. Replace the pot with somethig like coke, and you're making more than Person A by quite a bit.

Now, consider how much time and money person A spent to become a doctor and make that kind of cash. Consider the amount of effort Person B put in proportionate to that.

Now, consider this. Person A decides he HATES being a doctor. It's too bad he's in debt now and can't do anything else. Person B hates being a dealer. So he stops and does something else.

See what I mean? While I agree with the premise that selling drugs isn't a great accomplishment in life because it IS so easy, neither is wasting most of your life to be just as unhappy with things.

As another example, look at me and Lisa. Up until this year, I made more mostly legitimate money than anyone I know (excluding like, my rich uncle), and have not finished grade ten. Lisa went to school for massage therapy, decided she didn't want to do it, and now has a couple thousand dollars to pay back. I'm pretty sure she's never made over ten bucks and hour, despite her college education and honor roll grades. Even unemployed, a basic knowledge of gardening garnered from spending more time playing with peas and potatoes than going to school means I can theoretically make 10 times what she makes working her ass off at the hotel, simply by "adding water".

And on an also somewhat related note:

FUCK OFF. Seriously. I can't even go on facebook anymore. You're always on, and constantly feel the need to tell me how horribly and completely you've fucked up your life, and enjoyed doing so.

YOu'd think, judging by the way I reply to you with no more than one or two words, that you would clue in.

But no. YOu just message and message until I express some tiny fake amount of interest in you.

Blah.

Saw you got Facebook today. Thought I'd deleted ya, but nope, you showed up in the "from your contacts" sidebar.

I was wondering what you've been up to since my last week at the casino, when a "DeVitt" started there.

Anyhow, I don't really want to talk to you anymore, but it's nice to know you aren't dead or homeless or something.


On a quasi-related note:

Lindsay and I were talking today, and it came up that we'd never hooked up. While this is definately the best way for things to have turned out (I generally don't like talking to those I sleep with when I'm done sleeping with them, and at the age when this would have occured, she likely would have been no exception), it does seem REALLY weird we never did.

I mean, you think about the fact we dated, we drank together a bunch, and we even ended up in the tub once or twice (LAWL). It sort of seems like we would have just kinda gone "eh, wanna have sex?" at some point.

There are of course some reasons for this (besides the lack of attraction) that I can think of, which I won't share here, but considering how long we've known eachother, and the general lack of boundaries in our friendship, etc. etc. just sort of seems odd.


On a related-yet-unrelated-note:

Been thinking about getting rid of my facebook lately. Why? The only person I every talk to on there, that I actually want to talk to, is Lindsay. We usually talk for a few minutes once a month or so.

The rest of the time, I get a million fucking messages (and accordingly, emails) from people, telling me "Oh hey, I got kicked out of my house, but I have shrooms so life is great" and shit like that. It's really fucking depressing.

I mean really. My life kinda sucks, and I still think I'm doing better than most of the people in DC. That's just sad.


Speaking of things that suck, Tracey and Shea got fired from the Casino too, so they've virtually purged the whole night shift now. I'm pretty convinced Shea got me fired, so I have no sympathy for him, but sucks for Tracey.

Anyway, that's it for now.



A change from the usual sorts of music.

I never really realized it before, but Fraggle Rock is actually a pretty technically impressive show. I mean, the intro alone has like forty fucking puppets in it, and they're all singing in union. While there's only probably ten or so actual voices in there, the fact that Jim Henson could find that many people capable of doing the weird Fraggle singing voice sure impressed me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7TTk_0XYn4

I'm unable to embed it, but it's worth watching.

On top of that, excepting the scenes with the fat troll things (which are impressive due to the scaling and such, as are the little dudes in the intro, which, if I remember, are Doozers), there's always at least ten fraggles on screen doing things, in a well designed set that fits it all without showing strings or obviously being designed to hide things.

While looking for the intro, I found this. When you add DJ Kool to anything, it = the best ever. Add in the inhereint awesomeness of Fraggles, and, well.



I also managed to find a whole episode, and quite a few more are available. It's not a bad one, though it's a little different from the version I saw the other day.



It's a musical kids show, which means I should hate it, but childhood memories, and the fact that it's just a nice show, make me actually kind of like it.

So yeah, you should like Fraggles, cause they're actually pretty cool, and a perfect stoner show.


On a completely unrelated note, having only one decent 24 hour background channel has not messed with my sanity in any way. Nope.

I've been talking to a Zoophile online alot lately. Yes, I mean a person who fucks or believes they have romantic relationships with animals.

He's actually a genuinely interesting guy, and, ignoring what this probably says about me, I find this topic insanely fascinating.

I mean really. The guy is married* to a fucking tiger. How could that not be kind of interesting?

The following is a excerpt from our conversation thus far, in an answer format. I was for some reason unable to find my questions, but you can kinda figure it out.

"It's not so much that a marriage would be inconvenient, it's that a marriage is an institution. A legal one, really, more than a romantic one, so it just wouldn't be right to submit my love to that. Now, if society overnight became totally accepting of our relationship, I wouldn't say no to a little ceremony, nor would she as she never misses an opportunity to get way too much attention at once, haha.

For me, it's never been an attraction to all animals, by any means, and it's always, even when I was extremely young, pivoted around cats. I dreamed of deer when I was a young teen, and had a brief tryst with a very nice dog who caught my attention but was not mine. I was drunk, but no one ever found out; resolved to never become that inebriated again, although the dog sure liked me particularly after that. But my first real lover, the first I really had feelings for, was a cat.

I do feel that I am in a monogamous relationship, and have a bit of animosity towards people, particularly other zoophiles, who are polygamous. It takes a lot of work and attention to become so close to a member of another species. They find it quite easy to understand us, just by being around us, but due to the limitations of our senses and our conditioned reliance on language, we must put in that extra effort. I find it difficult to believe anyone could have that level of understanding and companionship with more than one animal in their life; to me, it seems like they're simply being used as a sexual outlet and the occasional but relatively noncommittal romantic one.

It's quite clear that as far as feelings, my love is mine alone. Although there are other people she is fond of, she does not react to them nearly in the same way she does to me, even disregarding primal needs such as sex and sustenance. I try to be as objective about this as possible, so I hope you will take my word for this. As far as sex, she's never had the opportunity. Cats, like most species, don't really draw the same love-sex connection that we do, so although I somehow get the feeling that she would react adversely to petitions other than mine, even during her heat cycle. It is a fact that there are members of all cat species, who are not in the terribly minute minority, who do mate for life. I can't support the theory that she is one of them, however, nor frankly would I mind too much if I was wrong due to said lack of connection.

Questions are good. They're actually why I'm here: I'm representin', haha. So don't be afraid of asking too many, or asking the 'wrong' questions. Worst that can happen is I just refuse to answer and move on.



I don't know. I just find this fascinating. I mean, it's one thing to come out as gay, but how many people have the balls to admit they dig non-humans?
*See the first topic.

Haven't updated in forever. Lindsay would not approve of what I've been up to lately, and it's frankly not the type of things to put on the internet anyway.

Slightly less recently:

Did in fact get fired. Woulda made my year and a half, but I pointed out potential internal theft to someone, they reported it without bothering to look into it (which is what they get paid to do), and when it turned out to be nothing, they blamed me to save their own worthless ass. Mind you, I was given absolutely no reason for my dismissal, despite asking two seperate managers (who told me opposite things, neither of which made alot of sense anyway), and a co-worker (who I guess thought I quit). I'm not overly broken up about it, as I know I'm a pretty decent worker and have never been fired before, but it's pretty annoying that I wasn't given a specific reason, and am left to guess.

Anyway, I have decided to finish my highschool, for three reasons:

1. Truthfully, I don't see a need for it, as I used to/usually make more money than almost anyone I know, including my parents. While I haven't had a job like that in a bit, they are ALWAYS available, should I need one. However, I can't tell my kids to go to school if I haven't. And if it turns out school is indeed a waste of time, and it's better and easier to graduate as an adult, then I can tell them that.

2. It gives me a chance to sit here and fix up the house a bit.

3. It gives me a chance to sit here and get stoned while still doing something semi-useful.

I'm getting awfully burnt out with life.

You. That is smart. And probably good for you. And about time, I was starting to worry a little. Probably not a fun concept for you, but... It would have sucked to see someone make that overly common mistake. So good for you. Anyway.

I've been playing alot of Xbox lately. 360s are fun, but I need more people to play with than the two or three from work. I also am now a Netflix fan.

Lessie, what else? I've been a little depressed lately. I'm getting bored. And work is stressy as fuck sometimes. T's hubby's ok ish, minus a leg. He is offering a $500 reward for it's return. Apparently, limbs are thrown out when amputated. I personally would have turned it into a lamp or something.

I'm not looking forward to finding another job. I have no plans to quit, but I will probably be fired in about a year and a half, most likely right after I become a full time supervisor. Trust me, if you worked where I work, you would understand how I can put such a specific shelf life on myself.

Welp, outta stuff for now.

We're moving again next week. It's a nice little house, with lots of land (as in, I can set up a shooting range someplace in the backyard), and less than our apartment is, rent wise. I have a few concerns about it, but it will basically be "our" house, and we can paint, fix, or rebuild anything we don't like.

Landlady seems nice. She works with Lisa, lives VERY close by (potentially one of three downsides, though this does add a little bit of security to the place), and is apparently pretty generous. We are apparently permitted to use their fourwheelers, and they provide free internet and cable. Etc. etc.

The downsides are:

The house is OLD, in my opinion. If it's not as old as I think it is (70s, with constant repair), then it's new, and has been horribly maintained until a few years ago. I'm more worried about it fucking freezing in the winter, due to single pane windows and thin, poorly insulated walls, and lack of centralized heating (though multiple radiators might work even better for all I know), than anything else. The wiring is all new(er, anyway. Newer than the appartment's by far), the roof is getting reshingled in a while (I'm making sure to stipulate this), and the rest is mostly aesthetics, which we can work on.

It's a bit of a drive out of town. Gas will be a little more, though I'll spend less on fast food. We *might* need a second car, though Lisa might get rides from the landlady. If this is the case, I will probably try to get a little car anyway, and then park the truck until needed. If not, I will sell the truck and get a pair of shitty old two wheel drives. Insurance on a newer car would be cheaper, so depending on the eventual situation, this could actually make no difference at all. I'll still have to leave for work earlier, but whatever. I'm used to it, and always get there 30 minutes early anyway.

The owners live like five and half feet away. Maybe seven. I'm serious. None of our windows look at them, and they are older people with no qualms about how much noise we want to make, or if I want to smoke a joint out by their huge firepit, or whatnot. So it might not be bad. It's nice knowing the old man will usually be around to keep an eye on things, and to tractor out my truck if I get stuck in the winter. Additionally, I might get to see alot of sweet cars and things, and maybe even have some tools available, as he's a mechanic.

Anyway, it'll be interesting.


Alex is coming down in a bit. Judging by her wording, and the fact she messaged Lisa and not me, I don't think she's planning specifically on seeing me, but rather Lisa. Not that I think she'd be at all upset if I were there or anything, or that I'm really bothered, as it IS Alex. Frankly, I'm just glad she gets along with someone I used to know. For some reason, even my guy friends seem to have issues hanging out with whoever I date, so it's kinda nice they like eachother.

Sophie came through. Despite her assurances, she of course didn't call or anything.


I sort of notice a pattern. It's interesting, but more often than not, the only people who I feel would put any effort into seeing me or helping me out with anything are those I work with (with some pretty obvious exceptions, like yourself, dear reader, and interestingly (to me at least), people like Sam or Hayley, who I don't typically want to see but are or were always there anyway). I'm not saying I have any resentment or blame here, as I've never been a "people" person, as I think most of my old friends are pretty worthless anyway, but it's a little weird to me that someone I would not consider a friend, or in most cases even trust with insignificant facts, and barely know in many ways, would probably be willing to help me move, or would have a good, deep conversation about God with me. In some ways, I understand it. As with most people like myself, my charm is more or less superficial, thus the longer you know me, the less you will probably like me, and I similarly have VERY different views on pretty much everything than most other people. It's still interesting, though.

Speaking of work people, T's old man got t-boned on his bike. His leg got torn off, and he's in a coma, but will probably make it. I am atypically sympathetic, as T is one of the few people I really connect with on any level, and wish I were a little better at the whole "condolences" thing. I think I will buy a bottle of expensive booze, some cigars, and then wait. If he recovers, wakes up, and is more or less normal again (minus leg), then I will give it to them as a "celebration" type thing. If he dies, maybe I'll just keep the booze and stoogies myself, and have my own little Erisian mini-wake for the poor guy. Honestly, I just really hope T is dealing with it like I think she is, which is the way I think I'd deal with it.


I think I might get some McDonald's or something. Cheers.

Watching The Office. Jim just got promoted to Co-Manager, and Oscar (who is probably one of the more "normal" characters)sarcastically says something along the lines of "Look, it doesn't take a genius to know that an organization thrives under two leaders. How many countries can you name that don't have two presidents?"


What I find ironic is that most countries DO in a way have two leaders. Canada has the Prime Minister, and, technically, the governer general, who in theory can veto anything (not to mention the fact that we almost invariably have had minority governments for the last few elections). Similarly, both ourselves and the United States have two legislative bodies, ours being MPs, theirs Congressmen, with us both having Senators.

England also comes to mind, having similar assemblies, a Prime Minister, and a Moncarch. The German form of goverment (I can't remember the name, as I'm pretty baked) has both a President and a Prime Minister, as do many European countries. China has a whole Board of some sort, many south american countries have had some form of junta, and in liberal democracies (socialist?) like Canada, where the opposition can easily have more pull than the elected party itself.

And this is just ignoring the historical facts. Most countries before the rise of Rome were ruled by many tribes, united mostly in name, culture, and levels of technology. Despite common opinion, these "barbarians" were generally almost as technologically advanced as the Romans themselves, and did indeed engage in trade, education, and other things generally considered part of "civilization". These nations survived mostly unchanged, barring things like wars and disasters, for a relatively large amount of time, until the Roman Empire absorbed them.

After his annexing most of Europe, Rome's Senate lost most of its power to the conquering general Octavian (later "Augustus") (though it had long been corrupted and in decline), who was one of several fantastic men who ruled the Empire virtually alone. However, they were largely outnumbered by incompetent or corrupt men, many of whom ruled "alone" in name only, with family members in key postions assisting. This prompted an attempt or two to return to a "republic", and once North Africa, most of the Middle East, all of Eastern, Western, and nearly all of central Europe were under Roman rule, it became evident it was just too big for one person to run.

The solution, decided opon by Dioclitian, and cemented by Constantine (also the first Christian Emperor), was to appoint a system of two co-Emperors, with two co-emperor replacements ready at any time, should something happen to one of them. This split the Empire into the Western and Eastern Roman Empires, both nominally Roman (although the Eastern Empire, ruled from Constantinople (aka Byzantium, Istanbul) was Greek in culture and language), and in theory part of the same Empire. However, in practice, the West was ruled by a series of generally useless dictatorial Emperors, and was eventually simply a burden on the treasuries of the East, led by dynatic governments, or more co-ruler type systems. The east flourished, aided by huge natural resources and good leadership, while the west stagnated. It collapsed in 476 (the Empire as a whole existing since 27 BC under an "Empire" system, and since 508BC as a republic), only a few years after Constantine offically created the eastern empire and finalized the divide in 330. To contrast, the typically multi-ruler Eastern Empire survived until 1453, over a thousand years, coming to be known as the Byzantine Empire. Russian rulers before the desolution of the monarchy sometimes called themselves Emperors of Eastern Rome, or just Roman Emperors, which led to a clash when Charlemange claimed the title of (Western) Roman Emperor, eventually leading to the creation of a "Holy Roman Empire", which was infact mostly pagan, German, and a collection of generally warring small states, which formed the prototype for nations in the middle ages.

Nations in the middle ages were ruled by many princes or dukes, rather than a king. These countries were slowly tied more closely together, until eventually one king came to rule them. After a few centuries of this, single families or people could rule over many, many nations at once, a good example being the Hapsburgs, who ruled most of Europe, or the King of Bavaria in the late enlightenment era, who ruled a group of countries known as Germany. While nations prospered and developed very quickly during the process of uniting and following one single leader, they stagnated* VERY quickly once united. This caused a flurry of issues, with a sort of constitution (Magna Carta) being written up and presented as a demand to King John in 1225. The gradually increasing incompetence and general ridiculousness of the majority of the European monarchy cause their virtually complete extinction, leading to revolutions all around the world, in a relatively short period of time.**

Even look at modern democracy, in which one country is generally ruled by one person, for a short amount of time, based on majority votes. While one person is nominally in charge, you could probably argue that in an ideal world, the concept of democracy is pretty much the opposite of this, and that countries under it are run by many people, and the opinions of many people.

Of course, one man dictatorships exist, typically being either pretty decent (Cuba) or just shitholes (Most of Africa, which has stagnated), which could be argued as evidence that one leader doesn't really mean a country will prosper at all, but is completely dependant on the individual.


ANYWAY. As a more literal interpretation, I can name one country that has more than one president: The U.S. It has a president, and a vice-PRESIDENT. WHen Bush was in, their roles were slightly reversed.


Well, there's a history lesson. In conclusion, "multiple leaders" doesn't seem any better or worse to me than "one leader", as both, when provided with adequate leadership, tend to fail or succeed based on unrelated factors. As examples:

Cuba is pretty nice, because it had a good single leader, made friends with the USSR, and was an easily isolated island, where media control is easy, and one man can go unchallenged.

Paraguay has been described as "a green hell", though it's generally been ruled by multiple leaders in a junta, been a democracy, or has had it's presidents couped with enough regularity and bloodless efficiency that it was basically an election. However, it's also landlocked, has nothing of value besides cheap labour, and managed to literally get over half it's population repeatedly killed in a series of pointless wars, something common to all the rulers). I'm not kidding, Paraguay is seriously fucked up.

China is, in general, pretty nice. They are ruled by a generally faceless group of individuals classed as "generations" of chinese leadership in the west probably because their names are really hard to pronounce, they are very numerous, and not that well known. China has fewer freedoms than the west in some regards, but the situation's improving, and they are pretty much on par, if not pulling ahead of most first world nations. They're a large, coastal nation, have lots of resources, cheap labour to use them, and are advancing culturally as each new generation comes to light. This has taken a VERY long time, due to these resources being technologically unavailable to the Chinese government for the majority of it's existance, but are now rocketing it forward.



I am tired and will maybe write more later. This is really fucking long.


ANYWAY... The end point is that leadership is more or less irrelevant. If you want to succeed, have the resources. Failing that, have the ability. Ideally, have them both. If you don't, if still will work, it will just take a VERY LONG TIME.

*I am now making footnotes. I personally belive this stagnation is the result of a lack of external conflict, which I'll probably never get around to writing about later.

** A very good example of this is both the Russian and German Empires "revolutionizing" nearly simultaneously in 1918, followed by Spain, Italy, and Portugal.

I ended up splitting Lisa and Lindsay's posts, as it was horribly long together

Dear Lindsay,

Please, please don't pay that fucking stupid amount of rent, just to get yourself more embedded in a town you (used?) to want to leave. I don't know your whole situation, but from reading your blog, it seems like your willing to throw non-smart-girl amounts away for certain things. I might be wrong about that in general, so please don't take that too seriously, but I know I'm right about the rent thing specifically.

I would have commented it, but your blog has never once let me post anything I've tried to comment on, so I shall say it here. As a friend, I think you might be making a mistake.

This is all I will say about it.


Moving on, your last blog was nice and vague. My last blog is nice and open. It will be good to change it up, haha.

Steven

Dear Lisa:

No desire to talk about it with you. At all. From experience, it doesn't make any difference anyway, besides us fighting untill I get pissed off enough to just do something about it myself. I thought the following had been stated clearly earlier, but I guess not, so:

IF WHAT IS ON HERE BOTHERS YOU, DON'T READ IT. This is not open to discussion. This is my private area, mostly to keep in contact with someone I never get a chance to actually speak to, and to be able to rant to myself in a judgement free setting. It is not designed to expose any issue I'm having and open it up to conversation. If I REALLY wanted to talk to you about whatever you do in a day, I would come and ask you. As it is, Im trying to be trusting. If its annoying that you used to act like everyone's girlfriend all the time, and that its carried over into your time with me, then just let me vent about it. I am trying to be trusting, and "some guy who's seen her naked hitting on her" can very easily turn into "she's probably cybering him on Skype when I'm working" in my mind if it's brought up enough. This is what's happened with VIRTUALLY EVERY GUY you know.

Not to mention, you have a track record with that second only to Sam (don't worry, it's a wide margin, and I had smartened up for a while after the two of you). Sure, everything I know about was years ago, but notice the words "record and "know about". There's plenty of pictures of you grinding up on people while we were dating out there, at least one of them ADMITTEDLY taken just to piss me off.

Back on track. See, you either decide to tell me in detail about fucking them, or something similar, then still expect I'll be thrilled with the amount of time you spend talking to them, or hanging out, etc., when I'm not around. Honestly, I do love you, but I have some trouble wanting to be around you some times, and this is a prime, prime example of why. Maybe it's just my problem, sure, but I tend to feel like this at least once a week, usually for reasons along these lines. I frankly think you should be back in Ontario, with someone more like yourself than like me (incase you haven't noticed, sometimes the only thing we really have in common is the bed we sleep in), but that's just my opinion, and you're welcome to ignore it (though I know you won't. You'll read this while I'm at work, get mad, cry a little bit, maybe be pissy when I get home, and then just try to ignore it until it gets said again). I don't plan to leave you, I just don't really see how we can exist like this for the rest of our lives.

It's not that you're a shitty girlfriend. Usually, you're great, pretty much the best anyone could want. It's that you WERE a shitty girlfriend, more or less the definition of "kind of slutty" by my personal estimate (which I feel most of the people I know would agree with, given the same level of information I as I have, but no one you know probably would in similar circumstances), and someone I likely wouldn't have dated again had I know all this beforehand (no regrets). I personally am not a good enough person (if that's your scale, anyway) to get past this right now in my life, and that it keeps coming up doesn't help anything. For the most part, excepting the stuff mentioned above (and some not really mentioned), it's me, not you. You just dont seem to get that it will take a while of it ALL being just me before I have absolutely no issues with it.

So yeah. Don't fucking talk about my blog. Repetition does not cause anything nice to happen. Read it and deal, or don't read it, because I can happily be much more of a dick if you keep bringing things up. If it's worth talking about to me, I will say something about it. I guess this post can MAYBE be an exception (i.e. when you come crying about it, and we argue, I will not make any sort of effort to "punish" you by writing another huge rant, then asking you never bring it up. That seems a little unfair), as it's long, indepth, and not really as vague as I try to be when complaining. Beyond that, the more I hear about it, the more I will probably want to rant about things, the more likely I am to write more things that I dont really ever want to talk about.


P.S. If you're wondering why I can say all this, knowing it's personal and someone outside of us can and will read it, keep in mind two things:

1. I'm holding back, and I think you know it too. This is relatively polite, doesn't state HALF the shit that comes to mind, and I tried to reassure you that I do love you and it's not all your fault at the end. It's also after several revisions, which I won't likely have the courtesy to do again, if I ever get another rant like this going.

2. I've NEVER, EVER heard you say anything remotely positive about me to anyone, except maybe Emma. Not saying you don't, just saying that about %90 of the things you say about me aren't that good.

Plus, it's just Lindsay, who probably knows me well enough to know that this is my general dating experience, what sort of people I date, and to understand my outlook on it all. And besides, even if she wanted to tell someone about it, who would care? People on the west coast have better things to talk about than me (or you and me).


Anyway, there was something more I wanted to talk about that I REALLY FUCKING HATE, but I got to revising, and can't think about it now.

My female friends don't call me things like "sexy", and I think I'd say something if they did. :s

Also, I dont like sharing a computer.

Finally got the log in thing all worked out for blogger.


Watching "How It's Made". This one is on tequila, which is apparently made from a plant called blue agave. It's harvested with this shovel-blade-thing that looks like it would be wicked for killing zombies.

Apparently Mexico has also trademarked the word tequilla.

Sometimes I think I would like life better as a homeless person (assuming I lived some place with no winter). I'd find some little town, and be the strange, yet lovable hobo resident, with no one to compete with for bottles. I'd wander around all day, collecting cans and shit, muttering odd quips, and pretending I was the emperor of Upper Tofino or summat, and it'd be ok, because I'm homeless.

I dunno, it just seems like it could be alot more fun than being a CSO, or even a doctor or something.


I"m watching this show on Space about these guys who pretend to be super heroes, and walk around their respective cities helping the homeless, and so forth. I think that would be kind of fun too, though I think I'd be a super villan, simply to sort of balance it out. Unfortunately, I can't really see how you could possibly do that/get anything out of it. I suppose technically, serial killers and the like are probably as close as the real world would ever get to super villains, which makes me wonder what one of these guys would do, faced with one of them. It's sort of funny how:

1. Human nature requires society to have what are incredibly restrictive laws if you think about the way they were just 100 years ago.

and

2.These laws, coupled with increasing apathy for "fellow man", etc., cause a greatly disproportionate limit to the levels of good and evil one can realistically hope to achive. One can put on a costume, and run around murdering people, but it's very, very unlikely that someone else who puts on a costume would be able to stop them, or really even most "lesser" criminals without they themselves going to jail.

I'm reading Hunter. It's a white power book about a serial killer based on Joseph Paul Franklin, who goes around killing interracial couples in an attempt to start a race war. However, rather than being a mystery story, it's told from the perspective of the killer, who is apparently doing the right thing somehow. I'm not really that far into it, but it's about as bad as you'd expect, and I kinda doubt I'll finish it. The website I found it on had some interesting points on racial politics, amidst the usual garbage, but I can't really recall how I got there, and don't think I'll bother looking through the rest of the literature.

Wow, I'm horribly bored.

Dear Sophie,
I realized today that the reason [REDACTED] my boss is that she is essentially a little kid, and that I don't really like or know how to deal with little kids. In an effort to avoid being fired or jailed, I figured I would ask someone with professional training for their advice.

So, besides candy and time outs (neither of which work on her), how do you get a kid to stop fucking around with things?

Thank you for your time.



Maybe she'll have some good input....

I know this particular clip is a "dramatization", but this actually happened. Yikes.

2 reasons my girlfriend is better than yours (or you, if you are female).

I'm pretty impressed with how much Lisa trusts me, and considerably less impressed with Norton Anti-Virus. The thing is mostly just a virus itself, but they apparently don't have a Windows Defender for 7 yet.

Endeavor to write, I endeavor to rhyme, endeavor to rap, my words are on time. I lay it down lyrically, I don't know if you hearing me, avert your gaze, I'm talking empiracally. Cause music holds power, and knowledge untold, so move with the mic and let my wisdom unfold. Sing for the moment, dance for the day, open your mind or get out of the way. I like my rhymes lyrical, affecting you in spiritual ways, striking where the problem lays, striking in your mind, a wisdom divined from the feeling inside that history has lied. So if I can make you think, for just one second, open up your mind and look in the direction that we're heading in, going down hill faster than we've eer been, then maybe that's something... bigger than I will ever be, you will ever see reflected shapes of our one true reality, so close your eyes, spark a joint and take a trip with me, moving through the sound at increasing velocity.

Then I kinda lose my train of thought, and continue with:

I'm not a rapper, so don't throw a "yo" at me, I sound like a white guy reciting his poetry, breaking it down one line at a time, trying to keep it real, trying to keep up with my mind. Upper white class is what it says on my lable, but I still hold all the cards at this table, and so I broke it down as best as was able, and that is the end of this little fable.


No sleep is FUN.

Good enough night. T, S, Dbel and I in the tower. Nothing too interesting happened. The topic of the day was mostly beyond me as I haven't slept for more than an hour or two for the last few days.

I've decided that my insomnia is due to a lack of weed. Usually I'm nice and sleepy by around three or so bowls. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow.

Today was fucking awesome. Me, Tomahawk, and T in the tower. For some reason they agreed with my request to listen to the 40s station, so we got to chill to the unbeatable sounds of that decade, then for the second half of the night, T put on the "I'm a stoned hippy channel". Besides that, the night was busy enough to be fun, but slow enough to be hilarious.

We sang one of the SAs happybirthday, then made it a mission to make everyone else do it to her to.

The main topic was fisting, specifically I'M GONNA FIST YOUR ASS regularly being used as a threat by a problem person when I was a security guard. We of course discussed "FINE, I'LL JUST SHIT IN THE BED THEN" and "MAYBE I SHOULD JUST SELL MY MOTORCYCLE THEN!", amongst other lame threats.

Unicorns were indeed present tonight, and they weren't even chained to the walls.

After work, I had to walk home, which was pretty alright with me, since it was a really nice night tonight. About halfway here, Ay (my smoking break buddy) pulled up beside me, and gave me a lift. We had a really good conversation about the evils of technology, good and bad rap, and various other things I don't usually get the chance to talk about.

Honestly, life could suck ass right now, and IT DOES in some way I'm really barely aware of at the moment (I.E. I know there's something kinda fucked right now, I just can't be bothered to remember. Probably a Julie thing.), but I don't really care.

Tomahawk spend the last hour of the day or so teaching me how to play Texas Hold'em. I used this knowledge to completely clean house on FaceBook TXS when I got home, up until I met some hindu wanker who continued to go "all in" EVERY SINGLE ROUND, until he got enough capital built up, had gotten me annoyed enough to stop folding, and had managed to actually get a decent hand. This is of course when I matched his all in, somewhere around two grand, and promptly got pig fucked in the eyesocket with my own stupidity. There's a fun mental picture.

Apparently I can't edit posts at the moment, only make new ones, so here's a new one!

I was just watching an episode of family guy, where Peter discover's he's black. Lois' Dad turns out to own a slave, whom he calls "some guy we fed and took care of in exchange for a few chores".

While this is ofcourse an animated and unrealisitc lampoon of reality, those who've heard my "Why slavery is good" speech should take note that someone from family guy is actually in line with my view point for once.

Tonight was the balls.

First, it was me, T, and S in the tower. We basically sat around all night and made jokes about the event in the show lounge, and about how one of the employees works for an escort service on the side (I am unable to find her site or I'd post a link here. You can't actually see her face, so it's all confidential still, right?).

*For those who are unaware, an escort is essentially a hooker, though technically you're paying to take her out to dinner or something, and the sex just "happens" to happen because the girl "likes you" or something similar. I personally see nothing really derogatory about just calling them hookers - there's lots of sluts out there, and a hooker is really just someone who was smart enough to see the monetary value in being one.*

About a quarter of the jokes were at her expense. The rest were at the expense of the particular staff members who happened to notice she was also an escort.

Besides that, we had all manner of drunk people, I got pulled over by the coolest cops ever (actually fun), and just in general had a pretty entertaining night.


In clarification, I don't care if you're wanting to read this, Lisa. I can say whatever unpleasant things I want to about you on here, and you can't complain because this is my personal blog, and I hadn't even told you it existed until you came across it. To be frank, you were simply not invited.

I can complain about all the unpleasant things you say about me to your friends because you always leave those messages open, non-minimized, so that it's the first thing I see when I turn on the computer.

Do you see the difference here? I'm writing my thoughts down basically to myself, you're jamming yours in my face, intentionally or not.

I spend most of my day looking at cameras, some of which are poorly wired, others of which are outside.

No matter what, when you zoom them in, they usually have higher definition than my T.V. currently does on the non-HD channels. TV has never really been as fuzzy as it seems to be latel.

Either my DVR is getting fullish, or the TV companies intentionally downgrade the picture quality on regular channels to encourage you to get their HD packages.

Haha.So what's up?.

10:20am NOt alot SHowing off my computer speakers to the neibours.

10:21am Hahaha. Do you live in an apartment?.

10:21am Yup.

10:21amWhat yah listening to?.

10:21am I'm listening to megadeth. Anyone who can hear my speakers has been listening to Soulja boy for the last three hours..



I wonder if "I didn't do my taxes because the booklet is making such a good mousepad." is a valid excuse.

I wonder if "I listed ten illegal mexicans and an old jewish couple in hiding as living with us because you gave me just enough space to do so in the census form" works too.

Lisa didn't take the hint when I said "Maybe you just shouldn't read my blog then." in regards to her being bothered by things on here.

To be quite honest babe, I only really write this thing to rant to myself and keep in touch with Lindsay, both of which are harder to do with you constantly present. I'm not complaining, just stating I can't wander the appartment mumbling to myself when you're around, and you definately made our last hangout a tad off.

So, for the benifit of Lisa, I shall no longer writing fun, somewhat deep things here.

I shall instead write fun, somewhat half true things.

The new guy is also from Dawson. He's friends with all my childhood friends, does most of the same stuff I did around there, and yet is someone I've never even heard about, let alone seen.

Seems like a nice guy, but it's kind of weird to meet the best friend of your elementary school best friend, and have no idea who the fuck he is.

I saw the second best* drunken biking wipeout ever today. Details are unfortunately work-related, and thus confidential, but basically this really, really, really smashed old junkie spent the better part of an hour getting aquainted with the ground after trying to pedal on a nice, flat piece of pavement.

Today was a pretty good day in general.




*The first best was Tye, on Alex's bike. We were either super stoned or wasted or something, and had decided we wanted to go biking. I only had one bike around, so we went and stole (well, really only borrowed) two from Alex's place (I think it was Alex, at least). Tye of course made Cal take the shitty bike, while he took the newer one, and we took off down the hill.

In case you didn't know, biking while drunk is fun, but makes you REALLY thirsy. So we decided to go to the shell store to grab some water. We made it through the SPSS lot, and into the church parking lot behind it. THe only thing in our way was the massive fucking speedbump at the lot's exit. I slipped around it in the narrow gap on the side, and when I looked back, Tye was right behind me.

Suddenly, as I'm looking forward, he flies off his bike, and we literally maintain eye contact as I bring my view frontward. I stop, he lands a little ways ahead of me, luckily for him on the grass. Cal stops without trying to get around the bump, which was probably a good idea as he had enough trouble walking most of the time, even when sober (well, MORE sober). I kinda stop and look around, trying not to laugh too loud. Tye's getting up, and Cal's picking up Alex's bike.

I still don't really know what exactly happened. Somehow Tye had missed the gap, and his wheel hadn't been able to get over the bump. It twisted right around, pulling out the brake cables, and making it so the front wheel ran perpendicular to the handlebars. Tye was ok, and we managed to get the wheel bent straight, but the brakes were fucked. Being a bunch of drunken bums, we snuck the bike back, and I've probably never told her about any of this. The brakes probably came up later. I think she got her money back from the guy she'd bought it from, and got to keep the bike, or one of those other crazy lucky things that seem to happen to her to balance out the shitty things in her life.

I'm watching the Office. They're burying this dead bird, and the one guy is talking about how he buried a fish or something when he was five, and thought it was immature and stupid then.

We buried a muffin in my tenth grade art class. Neat when life is stupider than TV.

I smoke too much weed. This makes me apathetic to everything around me, which is sometimes better than my other usual state of mind, annoyed at everything around me. It keeps me so immersed in thought and interested in learning everything about nothing that I forget to eat. And I enjoy this enough that it probably contributes to any depression when I want some and can't get it.

In other news, I REALLY like my PVR.

I just watched an epsiode of family guy. It was about 15 minutes long without the commercials. The lack of commercials probably helped me realize that out of these 15 minutes, maybe six of them were actual dialog, and the other nine were essentially the same clip of peter singing "Surfin' Bird". It's kinda stupid how entertaining it was for what it is.

Blahhah.

I don't know. I think I'm gonna go smoke another bowl and veg out.

I've come to the conclusion that I'm probably going to end up killing myself within the next five years. This shouldn't be overly suprising.

I'm not designed for this particular time period or area of the world. I have no deep family connections, I have no close friends, or really any friends outside of my aquaintances at work, and I own no property or anything that really holds me down.

I believe I've already achieved the potential that I'm capable of achieving, quite a while ago, and I just don't really enjoy being alive enough to want to keep doing it.

So yeah. I'm willing to bet I will get bored, annoyed, or depressed enough in about five years or so.

Isn't it funny how suicidal impulses come in the form of intense boredom? I mean, don't get me wrong, there's not nessicarily anything wrong with my life. I just don't enjoy it.

And really, like you can pretend it doesn't feel like there should be something a little more significant going on that what we're doing around here. I mean really. I sit in a little room with a bunch of furless monkeys, our sole reason for existing being to operate cameras in order to let another bunch of furless monkeys come in and give us their money. Your sole reason for existing might be a little better, maybe your a doctor, and you spend all your time fixing up monekys so that we can go out and do stupid things and get hurt again.

I just think we're lacking in something, that's all.

Blah, I always knew I should have dropped out and started a cult.

I think I would have been better off about a hundred years ago. BUt not I must shower and go work, so perhaps I'll write that some other time.

Updating just because I have the internet again.

I am grumpy and tired. I want liquor and cigarettes.

I've kinda felt like I've lost touch with everyone I used to know. It seems like it should be a bigger deal, but I kinda think it started a long time ago, and the moving just made it more evident. NOw that there's a little more time to stand back and look at things, it's interesting to consider how differently life could have turned out.

Work's been good. Not much going on there right now. It worries me a tad being around all the electronics, haha.

I wonder if the electormagnetic field from a wireless laptop constantly being used on a lap can cause impotence. I mean, it's suprising enough as it is that they caught the cell phone radiation thing. You'd think if it was penis related, our society's scientists would be all over that shit.

I'm really digging the new PVR thing. I can record a day's worth of shitty TV on my days working, and have background sound for the whole next weekend off. The movies on demand thing is pretty cool too.

I think I might get off my ass and go get my smokes. I have laundry to do too, oh yay.

You won't need too much persuading, I don't mean to sound degrading, but with a face like that you got nothing to laugh about.

The downtown Wendy's here sucks. Fortunately, that's what the one across the street from my place is for.

We're a five minute walk from a McDonald's, the good Wendy's, a Burger King, the Pizza Hut, Earl's, Boston Pizza, a Timmy's, and Subway.

Driving, we're five minutes from the Fatburger, the only resturaunt really worth mentioning besides those above.

I love living smack in the center of a relatively big city. I like the people here, at least the ones I've met. They don't have the consistent irresponsibility that almost everyone I know in Dawson has. They don't have the annoying arrogance almost everyone who's left Dawson seems to have. They're just a bunch of dolled up rednecks and good ol boys, and I kinda like that.

I think more than anything, I'm just glad to be out of Dawson itself. It's a pretty town, don't get me wrong, and a reasonably good place to live (great place to live, compared to Ontario), but I don't think I want to be there again for at least another 10 years.

I probably won't bother with this blog again for a long time. I found that my latest big black book is only a quarter full, and I like writing on paper alot more than writing online. Once I get internet, I'll still post here if anyone still bothers to read it, but I don't think I'll be posting on the borrowed internet anymore.


Linds, if you're ever coming to PG, gimmie a call! 565-7967.

I have no internet.

So I won't blog alot anymore until I get some money.

We are flat broke, but we both have jobs now, and can actually afford our place. It's big big big, and the rent is only a few hundred a month, much cheaper than even a bachlor suite in Dawson is. Like, half a grand cheaper. I am pleased.

I haven't smoked weed in forever, which sucks. I still plan to grow a little whenever I can get my seeds brought down to me, but I have neither the cash or desire to find some around town.

All and all, things are pretty decent around here. I can't wait to eat something besides potatoes.

Sigh.

SIGH.

Oh well. I guess.

I'm not writing here anymore unless Lindsay gives me her blog. I can rant and ramble just as well on a bit of paper, which will get filed and read by no one.

Lisa now reads my blog.

This is nice in a way because no one reads my blog anymore, and it's sort of nice to have some point to all this writing.

This sort of sucks because I can't really say whatever I want and have nice, personal conversations with myself anymore.

It is a mixed bag.


I'm hanging out with Lindsay tomorrow, we're going to Chinese. Despite not liking Lindsay, and not being liked by Lindsay (or so it seems), Lisa wants to come. This is probably because she does not trust me and Lindsay together.

On on hand, I understand this, as Lindsay is the only person I think I really consistently say only nice things about, and is probably one of the three coolest people I'm aware of. I can't really say no, because this will cause Lisa to worry a bunch and be pissed off.

On the other hand, this could be the last time I get to see or really talk to Lindsay. I don't talk to alot of people online anymore, and we never talked alot anyway except when we hung out. Lindsay is one of my favorite people, and I'd rather not have our last hangout be this ridiculous, uncomfortably tense thing that I'll get no enjoyment out of whatsoever because my girlfriend doesn't like her.

I do somewhat understand why Sa's got a Lindsay problem. Everyone I'm with always has a Lindsay problem. Even girls I don't date who have only a passing interest in me have a Lindsay problem. It doesn't usually seem to be related to anything. Chels comes to mind as a good example: She saw Lindsay was one of my friends while look at my FB page, and suddenly became horribly paranoid and spent a whole day grilling me.

Obviously, Lindsay is horribly threatening somehow, more so than Brianna, who Lisa doesn't mind me hanging out with alone tomorrow, despite her being insanely in love with me for reasons I have never figured out. I've never really understood what the issue is, as any romantic intrests left us a long time ago, but I do understand that it's a common issue and the good boyfriend should suck it up and sit through an awkward, tense lunch.

My Dad was right. You can't have female friends and be married.



Ah, mellowing.

It is 7:24 A.M., and I am drunk off my ass.

I'm watching some shitty show about riots or something. They have this panel of three greasy dorks who are all wearing the same type of glasses. They're supposed to debate with eachother, but they all look the same and sound the same, and since it's a Canadian show, they all have the same opinions, so it's more of a governmental lovefest. Whenever one talks, the others stare at him with their mouths open. I can barely watch this trash.

I wish I'd started drinking hours ago. I could gladly spend the rest of my life smashed off of white wine, living in my parent's basement. It's sad, but I'm not going to pretend it's not totally true. I'm most definately addicted to an altered state of mind. I could quit smoking pot any time, but I would have to replace it with booze. I could quit booze, but it would be replaced with something else.

I just get bored. So bored. Sometimes I wonder if this is what depression is. There are times when dying seems more appealing than living, simply because I'm bored and want something new to do. I've always considered depression to involve feeling sad about things, and I rarely feel sad, so I've always assumed I'm not depressed. Lately I've been wondering.

See, I don't feel sad. Ever, really. I don't feel angry. I feel annoyed, bored, and sometimes kind of happy. I don't know what it means.

I don't know much of anything. I'm just drunk. I could go into a rant about how no one would miss me, but I'm not quite THAT drunk yet. I'm only on bottle three.

Besides, that wouldn't be true. Lisa would miss me. She'd live, but it would take a while.

Dad would miss me. Fuck, I'd miss him.

Edward would probably not take that kind of thing well.

As far as anyone else, I don't doubt people would maybe miss me, but I know I've never been really that important to most anyone I haven't dumped and ostrasized already, and I know I don't treat the people mentioned above very well.

Bleh, this is beginning to dig, and I don't like digging.

I wish I was making donuts right now, dancing alone to ridiculous music.

(The following will all be drivel I want to say but can't)


To the one I'm talking to now:

We can't hang out. You know why. If you really don't, let me spell it out.

WE CAN'T HANG OUT, BECAUSE WE WILL UNDOUBTABLY SLEEP TOGETHER.

It won't be in the same innocent way we have in the past. You've been through enough that I wouldn't feel wrong about it anymore, and I don't like that. I'm with the only person I've ever met who will put up with who I am when I'm alone, and I can't screw that up. You understand me mor ethan anyone I've ever met, and you're gorgeous and all that, but it can't happen. Even though I don't have the moral fortitude to resist that shit anymore, I certainly have the sheer will to not lose Lisa, and will cut you out of my life if that's what it takes.

You know I feel bad. You know I blame myself for what's going on with you now. I moved for half a year. The last thing I said to you should never be repeated, but it seems pretty evident that it has at least a lot to do with your insanely fast decline.

bLEH. TIME FOR MORE WINE, MOTHERFUCKER.

That seemed all very backwards. I sort of figured you'd be the one person who would be insanely happy to see me. I don't know why, I just figured.

As it is, you don't seem to really give a shit. This is fine, everyone else seems to be slathering at the mouth to hang out right now, but it's very suprising.

Anywho, we leave in four or five days. I'm excited, seeing as it's someplace out of Dawson, and as our apartment apparently has a pool.

It's kinda funny. So long as I've got Lisa, I'm not horribly worried about what's coming next.

Well, that's it for now. No music at the moment.

They're justified, and they're ancient, and they drive an Ice Cream van.

I have been listening to wayyy too much british techno lately.

YOu fool! you say, Any British techno is too much British Techno!

well, I say, you suck hairy cocks, so blah.



I've concluded that no matter what the fuck you do on the east coast, no one will ever question you if you do it loudly and seem like you might say something mean to them. Infact, they will be irresistably drawn to your offbeat wit, and semi-deranged incoherencies.

I have so far:
Proclaimed to be the leader of a secrective cult. (It's not really a secret)
Pretended to be a slave. (Though for what I'm paid...)
Talked in nothing but a series of metaphors and quotes from old, obscure movies (But I kall it mah kaiser blade...) for literal days on end.
Finally told someone an Lana story. ("Why did you leave so quick?")
Finally told someone the buttsecks story. (There is such thing as too much lube.)
Repeatedly showed up outside the Catholic priest's house smashed and called him a "Celestial flunky" (no, I don't know what that means either).
Given people around me nicknames like "Self-propelled rolling machine", "Fallback slutty girl", etc.
Made a series of phone calls consisting of "KLF IS GONNA ROCK YOU!".
And pretended to be a part-time hitman. (Which at least one of the bugs seems to honestly believe, despite the fact that I always put on a fucking ridiculous italian accent and call myself Tony while telling people about it).

All of this has been met with nothing more than a suprised look, then total acceptance. It's horribly funny and definately amusing, and more than a little puzzling.

I would probably cross the street if I saw myself coming right now, but these bastards love it. The east coast must have been really dull before I got here, because it seems like I've met a group of people who find me more interesting and entertaining than I ever have.

Well, that's it. Here's your music video.

Chik-chika-chik-kah

I don't have anything at all to write. No one really even reads this, except maybe two or three people, and I don't really have alot to say that any of them would find interesting.

I went all day yesterday at work without saying anything more than "FUCKING FAGGOT!" and "ARE YOU EYBALLIN' ME, NEW FISH?". I said both like a black guy, over and over. I am going to miss working there because it is the only place I've ever been that encourages you to be a complete asshole. We talk about stuffing Kayla (the Jewish one) into the ovens (it's a German bakery), talk about "nigger noise", and generally act insanely offensively. I'm thinking of getting "Arbeit Macht Frei" tattooed on my upper arm, because life has more or less shown me that as long as you work hard, you're generally free to be as horrible as you want and still be loved by everyone around you.

I guess it coud just be that I'm the "coolest kid at the bakery", which is why I'm so well liked despite my best efforts, but since that's pretty compareable to being the "smartest kid with down syndrome", I kind of hope not. It is actually kind of possible though. People here are sort of weak and kind of pathetic, and no one I've met here could probably make it back home. All you really need to do to be everyone's favorite person is to be a little outgoing, an asshole in a funny way, and to be able to pick up on a few vibes here and there.

I reached a realization that nearly everyone I've ever been genuinely atrracted to (i.e. would probably go out of my way to sleep with) looks ALOT like Lisa. Not identical, but close enough that you could see it too.

Then I realized Lisa looks ALOT like someone I knew years and years and years ago. Like, a bustier younger sister type of similarity. Infact she looks more like the busty young sister to this girl than her own busty young sister looks like her.

Well. I suddenly don't care about this blogging buisness. Here's some shiny shit to entertain your simple little brain.