Wow. I mean, I kinda struggled to start this post. I've began and erased and began again, mostly because I don't know really what to say. I'm still seriously affected by the unbelievable trouncing I just witnessed. I'm still reeling with disappointment and anger from the spectacle I had recently been privy to. I knew I would have to comment on it. That's what I do. Should I just let the fingers do the walking or should I plan out a calculated, fiery diatribe leaving no German unscathed. Maybe I could take it from a sporting aspect, or maybe a vicious rant about having instant replay in this tournament. My mind is a trailer park during a tornado. The winds of anger and sadness are wiping out barns of competent thought and displacing my cows of reason. However, amid this chaos I was able to attach myself to an underground water pipe and remain focused as the F5 swept past. My depression, fury, heartbreak, and disappointment, made it clear what I should write about...Why am I so affected?
For four years you wait. Well, if you're an England fan, for forty-four years you wait. You watch teams come and go, you get excited about the prospect of the Cup coming home, and you imagine, when all is said and done, that the captain holding the trophy aloft, perched atop a well-constructed podium with sparkly confetti being cannoned out into the atmosphere behind him, will have three lions on his jersey. An intensely goose-bumpy image to be sure. Alas, it never comes. Alack, not even at the Euro. Tournament after tournament, I open myself up for this unhappiness, and that's really the only thing I can count on at this point. Sad, no? Well, why do I still care so much?
I guess sometimes we have to allow ourselves a little slack when it comes to ultimately unimportant things and their affect on us. Would it be great for me to see all my favourite sports teams win championships and be considered the best in the world? Of course! Would I have had anything to do with it? Of course not! Is there a reason I'm yelling? Probably! These things would happen with me in front of the T.V. or not. It doesn't affect my life really but allowing some emotion to grab a hold of you in such a way is good I think. I guess it gives us a high apart from the mundane lives we lead. So I guess being affected isn't so bad. Caring about millionaires that don't necessarily care about you can have it's positives. And cheering for grown men playing a game can be beneficial to the soul. It must remind us that we're all human. And that it's okay to be moved by irrelevant things. It's almost like art in a way. So, I'm okay. I'm not overdoing it. I'm just really glad it's only every four years.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Smilers never lose, and frowners never win...apparently
I've been told recently that sometimes I can be a little negative, critical, harsh and negatively critically harsh. From time to time, my generalizations have been a little unfair, and that I possibly expect a little too much from humanity as it were. I tend to make comments about things that could be misconstrued as being embittered and maybe a little too judgmental. It's also been brought to my attention that I am in the habit of summing up people and situations at first glance and off of first impressions. All very potentially useful critiques of my personality and definitely some things that could give one pause. And now a look inward...
I admit, due to my relentlessly sarcastic nature, I tend to observe the world at large not just with my eyeballs, but with biting comments and scathing verbal editorials orated for the benefit of any people standing close-by. If only to keep my wit sharp and to amuse myself and others. I could stand to be a little nicer in that regard sure, but what is not understood is that it's extremely hard to keep quiet when there is so much material out there to comment on.
I am not, by any means, perfect, nor do I aspire to be. An impossible goal is the ultimate waste of time. It would be like me training to be a mailbox. And, I do not expect others to be perfect either, contrary to the comments I might make. My problem, and this could very well be a true sign of getting older, is that it becomes my only weapon against what I see as an incredible decline in the society on the whole. I need to let people and myself know that I'm not buying into this bullshit. The world needs a renaissance, and it needs it now.
I'm not going to get too heavy on this one. I know there are some of you out there who know where I'm coming from and might find yourselves in the same boat. I only wish I could be a complete live and let live kinda guy, but it's that kind of malaise that gets us to this point. Where is the art? Where is the discovery? Where is the cultural advances? Not that any of my random statements do much to change the world. I just know that as long as I make them, I'm not falling for it.
I know I should just go with the flow and my negativity does little to stem the flood of mediocrity our species has been enveloped by, but I just can't. We're better than this. Let's open a book (NOT TWILIGHT!!!), or see a play at Stratford, or write a story, or see the symphony, or take a walk, or eat at a different restaurant, or do this, or do that, or do fuckin anything!! Again I don't expect people to be perfect, I just expect them to be constantly driven to be better and always be hungry to be more. I am. And I would never ask of anyone what I wouldn't do myself.
So my negativity has a purpose, all be it a pretty weak one in effectiveness. However, it is my duty as a fellow human to point out the douchiness and stupidity of my brethren and sistren as we follow the path of existence together. It's a back-breaking, thankless, horrifying siege, but one I relish and accept with humility and hope. I would want others to do the same for me. So go forth my children and open your mouths with sharp and rapier witticisms. Make your snap judgments and sarcastic comments soar for those to learn from and better themselves. If anything it feeds our inferiority complexes. I'd do anything to be ignorant. Or have enough hair for a faux-hawk. It looks like fun.
It's good to be back...missed y'all!!
I admit, due to my relentlessly sarcastic nature, I tend to observe the world at large not just with my eyeballs, but with biting comments and scathing verbal editorials orated for the benefit of any people standing close-by. If only to keep my wit sharp and to amuse myself and others. I could stand to be a little nicer in that regard sure, but what is not understood is that it's extremely hard to keep quiet when there is so much material out there to comment on.
I am not, by any means, perfect, nor do I aspire to be. An impossible goal is the ultimate waste of time. It would be like me training to be a mailbox. And, I do not expect others to be perfect either, contrary to the comments I might make. My problem, and this could very well be a true sign of getting older, is that it becomes my only weapon against what I see as an incredible decline in the society on the whole. I need to let people and myself know that I'm not buying into this bullshit. The world needs a renaissance, and it needs it now.
I'm not going to get too heavy on this one. I know there are some of you out there who know where I'm coming from and might find yourselves in the same boat. I only wish I could be a complete live and let live kinda guy, but it's that kind of malaise that gets us to this point. Where is the art? Where is the discovery? Where is the cultural advances? Not that any of my random statements do much to change the world. I just know that as long as I make them, I'm not falling for it.
I know I should just go with the flow and my negativity does little to stem the flood of mediocrity our species has been enveloped by, but I just can't. We're better than this. Let's open a book (NOT TWILIGHT!!!), or see a play at Stratford, or write a story, or see the symphony, or take a walk, or eat at a different restaurant, or do this, or do that, or do fuckin anything!! Again I don't expect people to be perfect, I just expect them to be constantly driven to be better and always be hungry to be more. I am. And I would never ask of anyone what I wouldn't do myself.
So my negativity has a purpose, all be it a pretty weak one in effectiveness. However, it is my duty as a fellow human to point out the douchiness and stupidity of my brethren and sistren as we follow the path of existence together. It's a back-breaking, thankless, horrifying siege, but one I relish and accept with humility and hope. I would want others to do the same for me. So go forth my children and open your mouths with sharp and rapier witticisms. Make your snap judgments and sarcastic comments soar for those to learn from and better themselves. If anything it feeds our inferiority complexes. I'd do anything to be ignorant. Or have enough hair for a faux-hawk. It looks like fun.
It's good to be back...missed y'all!!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The reasons I pray for death's sweet ball-cupping...
Everybody gets irked from time to time. I am somebody who gets bothered quite a bit actually, perhaps even more than the average person. Is it because I am more sensitive than most? Maybe. Is it because I expect more from humanity than the "normal" person? Could be. But mostly, I think it might be because a small, secret part of me likes being annoyed from time to time. If only to have something to complain about and share with you good people.With that in mind, a list I say, of those little irritations that, unfortunately cannot be cured with a shot of penicillin.
-People who sneeze unnecessarily loud.
-The fact that, for some reason, people on motorcycles get to go WAY faster than us automobilists.
-Server's who gauge their final thank you's based on the tip they received after a quick peek.
-Painfully unfunny people who constantly joke.
-One-uppers.
-People who only like one kind of music.
-Bartenders who give you back $15 in change after ordering one beer hoping for a large tip.
-Anyone who claims to be a Dr. but uses their first name. (ie. Dr. Phil, Dr. Drew etc.)
-People who NEVER signal
-People who have no idea their breath is bad. You'll know them. They're the ones who stand the closest to you when they speak. And God help me, they will not take your gum, no matter how many times you subtly offer.
-People who talk to other people in a different language in front of you.
-People in zombie movies who board themselves up in a house rather than just walking past the bastards. You have like 5 shotguns idiot.
-People who read the menu at any fast food restaurant.
-Slow eaters
-The rapid growth of my nose hair since 30.
-People with hair who waste it by styling or cutting it stupidly.
-Anybody in an Eharmony commercial.
-The Italian soccer team. And fans of the Italian soccer team.
-Those days where you constantly think someone is calling your name.
-The 3 days in between burning your tongue and tasting again.
-The ridiculous amount of poker on TV.
-The Doctor who told me after I tore the ligaments in my ankle that I would have been better off breaking it. "Sorry to let you down Doc. I'll try harder next time."
-People who sleep in public. Creepy. Rob them. Unless they're homeless. Then there's no point.
-People who tell me to pull up my pants.
-Gauging the appropriate distance a person behind you has to be for you to either hold the door for them or just let it go.
-Being completely off on that and the feeling you get when they see you holding the door and have to do that half-assed jog to it. Thanks for the unwanted exercise asshole.
-People who point with their lips.
-Endless road construction, or highway shut downs that show NO change or difference whatsoever afterwards. I guess we just don't understand roads.
-Nickelback fans.
-Josh Groban's voice.
-Rob Thomas. That's it. Just him.
-J-Lo being called a triple threat when she is insanely mediocre at all three.
-George Carlin being dead.
-MLSE!!!!!
-Old Navy commercials. Every single one since the company started.
-The fact that cold air drops and doesn't rise. My room is boiling.
-Having to sleep away nice days.
-Sparkly vampires.
-Blueberries
-Showering with someone.
-Apartheid.
Wow I feel better. Thanks for letting me vent. You know what doesn't irritate me though? You. Yes, You. And if you liked this, don't you worry, they'll be another. BIG UPS AND I'M OUT!
-People who sneeze unnecessarily loud.
-The fact that, for some reason, people on motorcycles get to go WAY faster than us automobilists.
-Server's who gauge their final thank you's based on the tip they received after a quick peek.
-Painfully unfunny people who constantly joke.
-One-uppers.
-People who only like one kind of music.
-Bartenders who give you back $15 in change after ordering one beer hoping for a large tip.
-Anyone who claims to be a Dr. but uses their first name. (ie. Dr. Phil, Dr. Drew etc.)
-People who NEVER signal
-People who have no idea their breath is bad. You'll know them. They're the ones who stand the closest to you when they speak. And God help me, they will not take your gum, no matter how many times you subtly offer.
-People who talk to other people in a different language in front of you.
-People in zombie movies who board themselves up in a house rather than just walking past the bastards. You have like 5 shotguns idiot.
-People who read the menu at any fast food restaurant.
-Slow eaters
-The rapid growth of my nose hair since 30.
-People with hair who waste it by styling or cutting it stupidly.
-Anybody in an Eharmony commercial.
-The Italian soccer team. And fans of the Italian soccer team.
-Those days where you constantly think someone is calling your name.
-The 3 days in between burning your tongue and tasting again.
-The ridiculous amount of poker on TV.
-The Doctor who told me after I tore the ligaments in my ankle that I would have been better off breaking it. "Sorry to let you down Doc. I'll try harder next time."
-People who sleep in public. Creepy. Rob them. Unless they're homeless. Then there's no point.
-People who tell me to pull up my pants.
-Gauging the appropriate distance a person behind you has to be for you to either hold the door for them or just let it go.
-Being completely off on that and the feeling you get when they see you holding the door and have to do that half-assed jog to it. Thanks for the unwanted exercise asshole.
-People who point with their lips.
-Endless road construction, or highway shut downs that show NO change or difference whatsoever afterwards. I guess we just don't understand roads.
-Nickelback fans.
-Josh Groban's voice.
-Rob Thomas. That's it. Just him.
-J-Lo being called a triple threat when she is insanely mediocre at all three.
-George Carlin being dead.
-MLSE!!!!!
-Old Navy commercials. Every single one since the company started.
-The fact that cold air drops and doesn't rise. My room is boiling.
-Having to sleep away nice days.
-Sparkly vampires.
-Blueberries
-Showering with someone.
-Apartheid.
Wow I feel better. Thanks for letting me vent. You know what doesn't irritate me though? You. Yes, You. And if you liked this, don't you worry, they'll be another. BIG UPS AND I'M OUT!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
My thumbs are buried...
So me and ma gurl have been frequenting the local moving pictures lately and have seen all manner of Hollywood fare guaranteed to entertain, enlighten, and dare I say, allow consumption of mass amounts of overpriced concessions before the previews have ended. We've embarked on the Kick-Ass journey and both believed it to be indeed kick-ass. We've viewed Date Night, on a date night, and the coincidence still tickles us. We've even seen Death at a Funeral which should be retitled: James Marsden on acid surrounded by sad black people. But the "film" I am going to tell you about right now is one that I can honestly say is the worst movie I have ever gone to the theatre to see, EVER. And I have seen Police Academy 6: City Under Siege. This movie is entitled: The Back-Up Plan. (Should be called The WACK-Up Plan. Yeeeah nice).
Let's begin the review of this J-Lo vehicle at the beginning. Oh and spoiler alert, I am going to seriously ruin this for you. Well, at least the first 34 minutes because that's all I actually saw. Besides, if you wanted to go see this, either read this or throw $12 directly into a Slap-Chop. Save yourself the gas money.
J-Lo needs a baby!!!! Apparently, she is a hideous dog-faced Latina with absolutely NO prospects at all?! Livin' in New York as all those sad incredibly hot spinsters do, bein' a great person, friend, aunt, and having a lot of integrity as well. See, she used to be high on the corporate ladder, an exec somewhere making large coin, but had an epiphany or some such and now she owns and operates her own Pet Shop. AWWWWWW!! You can totally see why she's single. Who the fuck wants that?! She also has a pet dog who gets around on a two-wheeled contraption because his back legs are useless. Much like this premise, ha-HA! The dog's name is scrappy, or rollie, or Stephen Hawking or something. Best character in this.
She's also got a sister who has like 146 kids or some shit, just running around in the scenes they're in, being complete bullshit children. As her sister is preparing a chicken for dinner, the bastards just grab it, raw and all, and book. This is just bad parenting. Anyhoo, Opening shot is of J-Lo's feet, in stirrups, getting basted by creepy doctor. She's lamenting on the fact that she hadn't had a pedicure before getting impregnated. This is where the script is taking us. A two second idea needing dialogue to fill 90 mins. I am hitting the keys very hard right now.
So she gets out of the clinic and hits the street. She sees a baby carriage and bends down to say "hi baby" and the woman pushing it yells "get away from me!" and goes on. Amen sister. The only laugh that escaped me. She's gotta go to her Pet Shop which is always empty. How does she afford any of this shit? But, yet she manages to get Cesar Milan in as a guest speaker a little later on. Completely makes sense. Blah, blah, blah, boring dialogue, stupid jokes, and now she is somewhere and has to get somewhere else, she's gotta catch a cab, so she does...
The Meet Cute. She gets in a cab, he gets in on the other side. Could happen. Instantly in love because their fighting over the cab sweetly and friendly instead of either cussing or backing out slowly (this IS New York). They both get out, he follows her to the Subway. Some stupid thing about picking up lucky pennies and it is now the next day. J-Lo and sister at the open air market looking at shit. She sees him at a stall. Makes sense in a city of about 8 million people. He is a dairy farmer who makes goat cheese. Of course he is. They flirt. He pursues her by finding her pet shop, they make a date.
Seconds before he is to arrive, she decides it's a good time to take the pregnancy test. As the doorbell rings and she realizes "Oh shit, right I made a date with creepy, goat teat pulling guy", she drops the test and the dog eats it. Ehh?...Ehh? That's good writing. So she goes on the date in a public park with a romantic table setting and wine and stupid, stupid conversation and ends up setting fire to it all. For real people! At her door they kiss and he invites her to spend the weekend up at his dairy farm. Of course he does. She says yes, walks into her house and discovers...GASP! The test smothered in her dog's puke reads positive!!!!!
So she goes to his farm, and they have a typical rom-com moment (sorry, bad rom-com moment). It's when she plucks up the nerve to tell him she's pregnant. "I have something to tell you." "Wait, before you do, let me show you something." He opens up his barn full of cheese, and there are candles lit everywhere like it's a romantic restaurant for fromage. Then they do it. In a barn full of cheese. Cool off ladies. Then ma gurl turns to me and reminds me why she's ma gurl, "This is fucking stupid do you want to go?" YYYYESH!! Went to Guest Services, said I had an emergency and had to go, got two free passes, and bounced. First and only movie I've ever walked out on. Went down to the lake and smoked a joint by Ontario Place. All in all a great night. Got to hang out with ma gurl and smoke a joint, and got something new to complain about. Not much else you can ask for.
Let's begin the review of this J-Lo vehicle at the beginning. Oh and spoiler alert, I am going to seriously ruin this for you. Well, at least the first 34 minutes because that's all I actually saw. Besides, if you wanted to go see this, either read this or throw $12 directly into a Slap-Chop. Save yourself the gas money.
J-Lo needs a baby!!!! Apparently, she is a hideous dog-faced Latina with absolutely NO prospects at all?! Livin' in New York as all those sad incredibly hot spinsters do, bein' a great person, friend, aunt, and having a lot of integrity as well. See, she used to be high on the corporate ladder, an exec somewhere making large coin, but had an epiphany or some such and now she owns and operates her own Pet Shop. AWWWWWW!! You can totally see why she's single. Who the fuck wants that?! She also has a pet dog who gets around on a two-wheeled contraption because his back legs are useless. Much like this premise, ha-HA! The dog's name is scrappy, or rollie, or Stephen Hawking or something. Best character in this.
She's also got a sister who has like 146 kids or some shit, just running around in the scenes they're in, being complete bullshit children. As her sister is preparing a chicken for dinner, the bastards just grab it, raw and all, and book. This is just bad parenting. Anyhoo, Opening shot is of J-Lo's feet, in stirrups, getting basted by creepy doctor. She's lamenting on the fact that she hadn't had a pedicure before getting impregnated. This is where the script is taking us. A two second idea needing dialogue to fill 90 mins. I am hitting the keys very hard right now.
So she gets out of the clinic and hits the street. She sees a baby carriage and bends down to say "hi baby" and the woman pushing it yells "get away from me!" and goes on. Amen sister. The only laugh that escaped me. She's gotta go to her Pet Shop which is always empty. How does she afford any of this shit? But, yet she manages to get Cesar Milan in as a guest speaker a little later on. Completely makes sense. Blah, blah, blah, boring dialogue, stupid jokes, and now she is somewhere and has to get somewhere else, she's gotta catch a cab, so she does...
The Meet Cute. She gets in a cab, he gets in on the other side. Could happen. Instantly in love because their fighting over the cab sweetly and friendly instead of either cussing or backing out slowly (this IS New York). They both get out, he follows her to the Subway. Some stupid thing about picking up lucky pennies and it is now the next day. J-Lo and sister at the open air market looking at shit. She sees him at a stall. Makes sense in a city of about 8 million people. He is a dairy farmer who makes goat cheese. Of course he is. They flirt. He pursues her by finding her pet shop, they make a date.
Seconds before he is to arrive, she decides it's a good time to take the pregnancy test. As the doorbell rings and she realizes "Oh shit, right I made a date with creepy, goat teat pulling guy", she drops the test and the dog eats it. Ehh?...Ehh? That's good writing. So she goes on the date in a public park with a romantic table setting and wine and stupid, stupid conversation and ends up setting fire to it all. For real people! At her door they kiss and he invites her to spend the weekend up at his dairy farm. Of course he does. She says yes, walks into her house and discovers...GASP! The test smothered in her dog's puke reads positive!!!!!
So she goes to his farm, and they have a typical rom-com moment (sorry, bad rom-com moment). It's when she plucks up the nerve to tell him she's pregnant. "I have something to tell you." "Wait, before you do, let me show you something." He opens up his barn full of cheese, and there are candles lit everywhere like it's a romantic restaurant for fromage. Then they do it. In a barn full of cheese. Cool off ladies. Then ma gurl turns to me and reminds me why she's ma gurl, "This is fucking stupid do you want to go?" YYYYESH!! Went to Guest Services, said I had an emergency and had to go, got two free passes, and bounced. First and only movie I've ever walked out on. Went down to the lake and smoked a joint by Ontario Place. All in all a great night. Got to hang out with ma gurl and smoke a joint, and got something new to complain about. Not much else you can ask for.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
More Suggestions and Confessions...
Wow. Been almost a month since I've laid some truth on y'all. But ima keep it real and again lay out some idears and relinquish some skeletons that have filled up my walk-in. Again do not judge, simply nod, agree and remember, we are all friends here. This is a safe place.
Suggestion-When receiving any award, the Victor must be obliged to thank Satan as well. God may have helped them win, but Satan fucked over the other four.
Confession-Drinking has gotten in the way of many things in my life, but never my drinking. If that happens, I'm gonna start huffin'.
Suggestion-I think sharks should eat and attack more people. We're already scared of them, why not make it worth our while.
Confession-My baloney has a first name...it's Murray.
Suggestion-Vans with no windows should be followed at all times
Confession-I had pink hightops in grade four. My mum made me get them because Chuck Taylor's were too expensive. Oh, the torment.
Suggestion-Beer should make you skinnier, not fatter. Rowdy, drunken, lanky people are much easier to throw out of an establishment.
Confession-I LOVE that gum that tastes like soap. All you people are haters.
Suggestion-Weed should be legal...that is all.
Confession-I hope any daughter I have will be a lesbian. Even if I have 5. All lesbians.
Suggestion-They should have a marathon where the slowest person wins just to see idiots drop after strolling for ten years.
Confession-I hate 3-D movies. If I'm not actually on Pandora, don't make think that I am. Damn you Cameron.
Suggestion-Get rid of the amber light in traffic lights altogether. Then invest in a brake company.
Confession-I'm getting to the age where I think a runny nose means I have Cancer. Seriously.
Suggestion-Any time a homeless person asks you for change, ask him to tell you a joke first. He'll probably know one or two. That way, he's earning the money, you're paying for a service, and you both end up laughing together at the end. How nice is that? Unless the joke is something like,
"Guess what me and a Bear in January have in common?"
"What's that Homeless Guy (giggling, waiting, here it comes)."
"We both haven't eaten in a fuckin' month!"
"Oh. Here's $20."
Then, not so nice.
Confession-My second favourite football team is the Detroit Lions. That may not mean much to a lot of you, but to those who know what that means, it speaks volumes.
Suggestions-Change the name of manslaughter to "oopsie!" Bring a little levity to the trial. I'd plead guilty to an oopsie. Shoulder shrug and all.
Confession-I used to think Hilary Clinton was hot. USED TO!!!!
Well, that was fun wasn't it kids? Have a good day at school and don't eat the smelly markers. They may smell like blueberries, but they taste like burning. Love ya.
Suggestion-When receiving any award, the Victor must be obliged to thank Satan as well. God may have helped them win, but Satan fucked over the other four.
Confession-Drinking has gotten in the way of many things in my life, but never my drinking. If that happens, I'm gonna start huffin'.
Suggestion-I think sharks should eat and attack more people. We're already scared of them, why not make it worth our while.
Confession-My baloney has a first name...it's Murray.
Suggestion-Vans with no windows should be followed at all times
Confession-I had pink hightops in grade four. My mum made me get them because Chuck Taylor's were too expensive. Oh, the torment.
Suggestion-Beer should make you skinnier, not fatter. Rowdy, drunken, lanky people are much easier to throw out of an establishment.
Confession-I LOVE that gum that tastes like soap. All you people are haters.
Suggestion-Weed should be legal...that is all.
Confession-I hope any daughter I have will be a lesbian. Even if I have 5. All lesbians.
Suggestion-They should have a marathon where the slowest person wins just to see idiots drop after strolling for ten years.
Confession-I hate 3-D movies. If I'm not actually on Pandora, don't make think that I am. Damn you Cameron.
Suggestion-Get rid of the amber light in traffic lights altogether. Then invest in a brake company.
Confession-I'm getting to the age where I think a runny nose means I have Cancer. Seriously.
Suggestion-Any time a homeless person asks you for change, ask him to tell you a joke first. He'll probably know one or two. That way, he's earning the money, you're paying for a service, and you both end up laughing together at the end. How nice is that? Unless the joke is something like,
"Guess what me and a Bear in January have in common?"
"What's that Homeless Guy (giggling, waiting, here it comes)."
"We both haven't eaten in a fuckin' month!"
"Oh. Here's $20."
Then, not so nice.
Confession-My second favourite football team is the Detroit Lions. That may not mean much to a lot of you, but to those who know what that means, it speaks volumes.
Suggestions-Change the name of manslaughter to "oopsie!" Bring a little levity to the trial. I'd plead guilty to an oopsie. Shoulder shrug and all.
Confession-I used to think Hilary Clinton was hot. USED TO!!!!
Well, that was fun wasn't it kids? Have a good day at school and don't eat the smelly markers. They may smell like blueberries, but they taste like burning. Love ya.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Wow, productive Saturday. Feelin' sexy good.
Temperature: 14 Celsius
Mood: Focused man!
Shower Song: We Major by Kanye West and Nas
Gettin' shit done. How good does this feel right now. I am now typing on my new desk I just put together, and lovin' every minute of it. Got some other shit organized, got my laundry gwannin', did some much needed grooming (won't go into any more detail there), and sippin' an a icy cold beery beverage. I feel inspired, hopeful even. Here's a haiku:
beneath messes found,
I discover order sought,
my soul is clean now.
Bright and shiny day. Learned how to play Passenger Seat by Death Cab on my piano. Picked up the guitar for the first time in a while too. Can't play it well yet, so just repeatedly strummed the only chords I know over and over, but still, good times. Here's another haiku:
in spaces now cleansed,
the world seems to need a King,
I nominate me!
Gonna read a bit now, or download some music, or make some cd's, or maybe learn some more songs. Any of those things would continue this day in a very positive and much needed way. It's true what they say. When everything is cluttered, so is your mind. Things feel a little less chaotic now. One last haiku:
I understand now,
small things make the difference,
I'm getting more beer.
Enjoy your day. Sometimes things are good.
Mood: Focused man!
Shower Song: We Major by Kanye West and Nas
Gettin' shit done. How good does this feel right now. I am now typing on my new desk I just put together, and lovin' every minute of it. Got some other shit organized, got my laundry gwannin', did some much needed grooming (won't go into any more detail there), and sippin' an a icy cold beery beverage. I feel inspired, hopeful even. Here's a haiku:
beneath messes found,
I discover order sought,
my soul is clean now.
Bright and shiny day. Learned how to play Passenger Seat by Death Cab on my piano. Picked up the guitar for the first time in a while too. Can't play it well yet, so just repeatedly strummed the only chords I know over and over, but still, good times. Here's another haiku:
in spaces now cleansed,
the world seems to need a King,
I nominate me!
Gonna read a bit now, or download some music, or make some cd's, or maybe learn some more songs. Any of those things would continue this day in a very positive and much needed way. It's true what they say. When everything is cluttered, so is your mind. Things feel a little less chaotic now. One last haiku:
I understand now,
small things make the difference,
I'm getting more beer.
Enjoy your day. Sometimes things are good.
Friday, April 9, 2010
And just for fun...
...a little Beeahtles. My favourite George song.
Ages 0-9, you like Ringo because he's fun and goofy. Ages 10-16, you like Paul because he's melodic and literal. Ages 17-27, you like John because he's angry and anti-establishment. Ages 28-Death, you like George because he writes songs that are beyond everything. Amazing.
Ages 0-9, you like Ringo because he's fun and goofy. Ages 10-16, you like Paul because he's melodic and literal. Ages 17-27, you like John because he's angry and anti-establishment. Ages 28-Death, you like George because he writes songs that are beyond everything. Amazing.
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