Post #277

Sarah Turpin did this, too.
First.
She did it first.
But I was born before her.
And her parents like me more than her.
Same deal with her sisters.

'Yis Girl'

Jennah Turpin doesn't communicate with me often.
But when she does...look out.
I actually worked at this gas station for a while.
If you're a mainlander you may not see the humour in this.
But you will absorb Newfoundland culture.

Try this one out. Murder By Death.
And this one. Dispatch.
I drank a lot of sunnyshine beers abreast barbecues at Acadia while listening to the second band.
Sitting in those collapsable canvas chairs that everyone used to buy from Canadian Tire?
You've sat in one.
Dicky bought one once, and was blown away by how cheap it was.
It turned out to be a kids' version.
He sat in it anyway.

Tyin' Rebar

Happy excuse to eat chocolate and pretend to be interested in Jesus day, everyone.
I saw Hoskins' band Fulltime on Friday with Shandera.
I think they should use a hyphen in their name.
But whatever. They play instruments.
They are better humans than I.
The show was deadly.
Hoskins' parents were at the bar (Roxxy's) to watch.
Which I found very impressive.
His parents fed me lasagna in Banff.
Canmore, technically.
Then they got me drunk.
I broke a wine glass.
His father told some joke that made us all uncomfortable. But he meant well.
I can't remember it, but I remember that the punchline was: "No my love, tonight you're drinkin' from the bottle."
...
Ahem.
I ran into drunk Peter Russell, which was fantastic.
I was playing drunk Paul Warford at the time.
We misplaced one another and then drunk Paul Warford got himself some 'street meat,' as they call it.
Then he took a cab.
Then he desperately felt as though he were about to vomit.
But he made it to his house.
It was a rough night.

Dave/Mavis showed up at my door yesterday.
Dave is a former roommate.
The type of roommate who boils ears of corn (after shucking them) at midnight on a Saturday.
We went to Ballistic and spoke with some rad people who then gave me a rad discount on a hoodie I couldn't afford.
I have missed rad people, which Banff was choking on.
It's a place where certain guys are so rad as fuck that they shouldn't even be allowed outside.
I could never be rad.
I don't know how to tie a bandana.

"A Moment of Clarity"

There's nothing quite like waking up to sex that you're not having to start your day.
I don't think that vegans should be allowed to make cupcakes.
If they've dedicated their lives to not eating anything fun, then I believe that cupcakes, a particularly fun food, are no longer their fucking business.
I've encountered a lot of vegan cupcakes over the past few months or so, and I think the whole thing is preposterous.
I haven't eaten any.

I had myself one of those epiphanies last night.
Like the religious people keep talking about.
I have a new epiphany once every couple of days.
Because I'm a pretty deep guy.
Wanna know what it was?
No?
Well, whatever, you've read this far already.
I have to make fun of facefuck. On stage.
And I hate the idea of it. Cause everyone is into it, from Jesus down.
But that's the point, though: someone has to do it.
I'll be a pioneer. At The Victory, at least.
Like Louis and Clarke.
But funnier.


eDit: Ashleigh Sobol found the picture. She's a dynamo.
Cause she's a Sobol.

Divine Cancelation

I was to write some sort of an exam or another on Tuesday.

Monday night sees the greatest number of storm warnings that I've seen in this province since I started using my eyes.

So, Monday night I play World of Warcraft, and pray that the storm is going to be as monumental as the Weather Network wench says it is.

And considering the shoveling that Colin and I did the following day, God delivered.

Postponed.

When it comes to examination, there is no better word.

Two days go by and I still don't bother studying.

The story of my life is essentially a couple of pages that have been photocopied x number of times.

x being the total number of days that I'm going to live for.

Until God thinks that I should be postponed.

Or Allah.

Or Shiva, Ganesh, Vishnu, Lakshmi, etc.

Whichever religion is right.

Parody

Tribute night at The Victory last night.
My buddy Baxter (Acadia. No pictures of us together exist) is present for the first time.
Heckles George and is absolutely trounced for it.
Trounced.
Did my Eddie Murphy. Froze up because memory and comedy don't go hand-in-hand for me.
But it was satisfactory, and it is recorded.
I'll try to upload it here.
Though the video is likely too big (I have no idea).
If I can't upload it then I'll send it to Turpin, Smallwood and my brother, copy down addresses from the rest of you, and probably never get around to mailing any more.
Every time I do laundry I say "This time I'm going to fold it and put it away. I am not going to use my laundry basket as a closet."
But it never happens.
Sarah Turpin really enjoys folding clothes. It's a guilty pleasure.
Think about it.

Group Meeting

Alright. Hypothetical:
It's a swinger's party, right?
Keys in the bowl, or however they match people up.
That's how they do it, isn't it?
"Patty and Steve just made it guys! Alright, throw your keys in the bowl!"
And all the guys cross their fingers.
Cause Patty's got it goin' on.
They're friends of friends, Patty and Steve. So, they're the exotic, unfamiliar couple.
Swingers party. Huge orgy.
Everyone's defiling everyone else. The air is heavy with the smell of lubricants and sexual liberation.
Now, orgy's over. Everyone's putting clothes back on and avoiding eye contact.
People are starting to trickle home.
But then Patty and Steve's car won't start.
And they need a boost.
Wouldn't that be awkward?
Cause the moment of passion is gone.
Now there's a man that you barely know from the curling club going through his car's trunk, muttering to himself "Where did I leave those?" And the two have just seen one another in a melange of lewd acts.
He's moving emergency blankets and half-empty (never half-full for me) bottles of antifreeze.
Meanwhile, his wife had her mouth on your genitalia about half an hour beforehand.
That would have to be laborious for everyone.
Maybe he can't find his cables. Then Steve has to call triple A.
And he has to go back into the orgy brothel to do it.
Because it's the seventies. There are no cell phones.
"Terribly sorry, but Hal couldn't find his cables. He thinks he may have left them at home-could I use your phone, maybe? It'll just be a minute."
Waiting for that tow truck to arrive. Making small talk with the orgy hosts.
Everyone's holding cups of tea.
"...and I've been in junk bonds ever since."
"Now, are those the same as high-yield bonds, or is that something totally different?"
The wives are talking about lamps.

The Long and Short of It

I've started playing World of Warfcraft.
This was a bad idea.
Pop culture doesn't deserve a game that's so fun.
They should have had to put their hours in like the rest of us hopeless nerds.
I have many decorative daggers and swords.
Fuck Mister T. Fuck that wee person from Austin Powers.

I'll argue this to the grave:
If I was three feet tall I'd rather be referred to as a 'midget' than a 'dwarf'.
How is 'dwarf' the PC term?
It's like making fun of midgets right to their face.
...
Maybe I'll start a dwarf character in World of Warcraft.

To Hypocrisy!

Happy get-wasted-weekend, everyone.
Hope you all vomit just a little bit.
"'Tis the season," as they say.
Leave it to the h'Irish.
I got pierced today.
After vowing that I wouldn't get pierced again.
But it was an act of solidarity.
Does solidarity stave off infection?
Doesn't matter.

I have to admit that I find it helplessly funny when people say "Screw it," sometimes.
I want to give up caffeine.
I don't know why. It's spring.
I'm trying to act as though I have purpose.
I won't stop drinking coffee, mind you. I'm just going to switch to decaf for a while.
Which I also vowed I wouldn't do.
We'll just see what happens.
I'm betting on my being appallingly groggy during my morning classes, and otherwise pissy all day.
But at least I'm making plans that will perpetuate beyond tomorrow.

I was driving up Torbay Road today, and I'm behind this bus.
I'm harbouring road rage at a red, and I notice that the back of the bus has the NTV News Team painted on there.
Alright, I likely noticed before the red light. I just wanted an excuse to use the verb 'harbour.'
And I realized, as I checked for wrinkles on Lynn Burry (there are none) that I'd like to be plastered to the back of a bus some day.
Then I wouldn't mind getting stuck behind it.
'Cause I'd have me to look at.
All toothy and thin.
People always say that they see members of the NTV News Team doing various human being type shit around the city.
I never do.
People seeing Fred Hutton at Music City getting his banjo restrung, that sort of thing.
Toni Marie down on the corner, turning tricks.
For fun. Not profit (sorry Toni).

I couldn't find a photo of the NTV bus, but you get the idea.
Stop throwing your McDonald's bags onto the road, fuckers.

"I said 'Fuck it', I put my drink on it."

Big open mic at The Victory this Sunday.
I meant to tell you guys about this shit earlier.
It's gonna be a cover night.
Despite my racial handicap, I'm going to be performing the cookout bit from Eddie Murphy's Delirious.
And I can't wait.
Here's a taste of a microphone technique required that I haven't figured out yet.
I've been groomed to do this bit.
I owe a lot to this performance.
It taught me how to swear.

People Get Addicted

I did something today that I probably haven't done in many years.

"You got a shower!"

Hyuk hyuk.

No.

I danced. By myself.

Not just for chicks anymore!

Hawksley Workman can play an instrument for ya.

He just knows how to put on a show.

He's the type of talented that would make you hate him, but he's too nice (or so I'm told).

I went to his show last night in a high school auditorium with deadly acoustics.

I met a lot of new people.

Fortunately, I was very on.

Due to the exhorbinant amount of money that the loan people gave me, I've got a little bit of good news for me and my body.

It's time for another ridiculous tattoo.

Oh, I love these.

So, I'm gonna get a skull, right? But it's on fire. It's like Night Rider, but it's gonna have barbed wire wrapped around it, and underneath it there's gonna be a Chinese symbol that says (translates into) 'skull'. Now, that's gonna be emblazoned over the superman symbol and to one side I'm going to have a rose, and on the other side, paw prints.

I'm going to get it on whichever of my biceps is larger.

I estimate that it's going to cost about $700,000.

Well, that's what I was going to get. But I think Colin and Brian are gonna get that one with me, so I'll wait.

'Til then, I'm going to get a tattoo of Professor Farnsworth while he's wearing the suit in the picture. However, the pose I want is of him while he's strutting, which he does in the episode, while swinging the chain of his pocket watch.

You gotta kinda visualize.

And I'm going to get that on the back of my calf.

Perfectly timed for shorts weather.

I do plan to get a tattoo of Leela in her poodle skirt, as well. On the other calf.

Some day

Everyone will say it's a stupid idea, then everyone will want to see it.

Then when new people come onto the scene, they'll say 'show so-and-so the tattoo' and then the person will see it and say 'cool!' and will then immediately agree that it's stupid.

Cause that's what happens with all of them.

Except the 'writer' tattoo.
That one actually was kinda stupid.

But deep.