Delusional, psychotic, lying, conniving, insecure, troublesome, tiring, draining, jealous, grumpy, emotional, bi-polar, malevolent, envious, close minded, troubled, upset, foolish, defiant, stupid, confused, dangerous, defiant, frightening, depressed, stupid, uneven, unfaithful, abnormal, inconsiderate, crazy, cynical, impulsive, naïve, arrogant, stupid, so fuckin stupid, irresponsible, childish, immature, impulsive, scared, unsure, undeserving, innocent, stupid, lost, clueless, unstable..
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Fuckajob
I am writing this blog after only one job application. It took me 30 minutes to complete and I cant take it anymore. I cant do it. Applying for jobs is not only one of the most tedious tasks I have ever been faced with but its also one of the most difficult. There's just too much lying involved. I'm a good guy, and being such, I cant be expected to repeatedly lie over and over again on one job application after the other. Its just not right. My stomach is turning and I couldn’t live with myself. I’m faced with questions like “Tell us about a time where you were faced with a challenge and overcame it” and “are you a motivated individual?”, to which the answers would be “once I really didn’t feel like working so I sat in the bathroom for an entire shift avoiding customers” and “no”. Instead I have to make up stories about how I helped an old women find the exact color of yarn she needed in the back because there was no more on the shelf.
Well fuck, what the fuck am I supposed to say. Then they give you these long ass surveys where they ask things like:
ARE YOU POLITE AND KIND UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES?
TRUE FALSE
DO YOU EVER NOT WANT TO NOT STEAL AND THEN NOT NOT PUT IT BACK ON THE SHELF?
1 2 3 4 5
(ONE being YES VERY MUCH and FIVE being I already have)
IF IT WAS THE END OF THE WORLD AND A SINGLE MOTHER IN THE STORE WENT IN TO LABOUR AND WOULD HAVE DIED IF SHE DIDN’T RECEIVE A CERTAIN MEDICINE WOULD YOU STEAL IT OFF OF THE SHELF OR LET THE SINGLE MOTHER AND HER BABY DIE?
YES NO
*Please answer truthfully
**You are being timed by Lie Detection software
I GET IT! YOU DON’T FUCKIN WANT BAD PEOPLE WORKING FOR YOU! TRY THIS THOUGH! INSTEAD OF TRYING TO FILTER PEOPLE WITHOUT MEETING THEM, TRY LOOKING THEM UP AND DOWN AT A JOB INTERVIEW AND IF THEY LOOK LIKE THEYRE ABOUT TO KILL SOMEONE, DON’T HIRE THEM! AND IF THEY DON’T LOOK LIKE THEYRE GOING TO KILL SOMEONE AND YOU HIRE THEM AND THEY KILL THE FIRST CUSTOMER THEY GET, LET THEM, CAUSE CLEARLY THEY WANTED IT SO BAD THAT THEY WERE WILLING TO PUT IN THE EFFORT NECESSARY TO CONTAIN THEIR INSANITY LONG ENOUGH TO KILL SOMEONE AT THIS SHITTY JOB YOU OFFERED! THIS ISNT THE PENTA-FUCKING-GON ITS RADIO-FUCKING-SHACK AND WAL-FUCKING-MART!
Sorry…that got a bit out of hand. My shift key sticks sometimes…and my blood pressure shoots up sometimes…anyways, getting a normal job is too frustrating so instead I have decided to do something cool, like become a spy or something.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Clowns and Confetti
And tonight, a very special birthday blog for my number one reader...and potentially my only reader...but number one none the less.
Yes, it seems that another year has passed and you have become yet another person that can buy me cigarettes and alcohol to keep me happy. Now then, on to the blog.
I was recently enjoying a decaffeinated coffee with our birthday girl when a family entered the Tim Horton's we were in and approached the counter. It was a father, mother, and their little girl who i could only assumed was one of the most spoiled children ever judging by the toy clenched in her minuscule hand. i paid no attention to the family and continued with my story. Upon ordering the child immediately began crying and screaming. These were no average cries however. Your normal fussy kid would cry loud enough for the people in the immediate vicinity to hear; say 5-10 ft. Tops. However this child, it seems, was the offspring of an opera singer and a harpy that, instead of romantic music, had multiple smoke detectors playing through out conception and, more likely than not, all the way up until birth. This child yelled so loud that one of the pots of coffee shattered and in turn scolded one of the Tim Horton's workers near by. Seriously. And the worst part is, i don't even know what the siren-child was yelling about. i mean, i can only assume it was over a doughnut the parents denied it but THIS? over a DOUGHNUT? even I knew at that age that you have to save those screams for purchases over $200. Anyways, the parents asked the little ring wraith to stop once, then twice, and then, finally, the mother leaned over and whispered something in to its ear. Without a moments hesitation, the raving Justin Beiber fan stopped screaming and looked directly ahead of it, almost as though the mother had whispered some secret word that triggered a trance like "fugue state" in the dying violin of a child. The family then proceeded to walk out of the Tim Horton's and went straight to their car with no problems. After this, i was left wondering what kind of evil this mother said that instilled such obedience in the nails against chalkboard. It could have been anything, and now ill never know...
Feel free to suggest in the comments.
Any who, me and the birthday girl continued our conversation before on...whatever she was talking about. I couldn't be bothered to listen cause it was simply too boring. (sorry i didn't tell you in person) But this in turn taught me something. whenever you re at Tim Horton's with a date, friend, employer, or anyone else, there is always a way to tell when the conversation has gotten bad and how bad the conversation as gotten. When the person you re with starts ripping up their cup, its over. You've fucked the conversation and are officially boring the other person to the point where they have reverted back to their child like interest in destruction. This is when it gets bad however and isn't beyond the point of salvage. What you REALLY need to worry about is when they start making things out of the cups remnants. smiley faces on the table, cut-out snowflakes, origami, its all bad and a sign that you should just put the night out of its misery and say you have to leave. As for me, if you must know, after thirty seconds in to conversation about B.C. or autopsies or something, i was wearing my empty cup as a hat. This is an extreme situation where in goodbyes aren't even needed anymore and you should just get up and leave. unfortunately for me i had to tough out the entire night and eventually ended up with an entire suit of armor fashioned wholly out of Tim Horton's cups and bags.
Happy Birthday
Yes, it seems that another year has passed and you have become yet another person that can buy me cigarettes and alcohol to keep me happy. Now then, on to the blog.
I was recently enjoying a decaffeinated coffee with our birthday girl when a family entered the Tim Horton's we were in and approached the counter. It was a father, mother, and their little girl who i could only assumed was one of the most spoiled children ever judging by the toy clenched in her minuscule hand. i paid no attention to the family and continued with my story. Upon ordering the child immediately began crying and screaming. These were no average cries however. Your normal fussy kid would cry loud enough for the people in the immediate vicinity to hear; say 5-10 ft. Tops. However this child, it seems, was the offspring of an opera singer and a harpy that, instead of romantic music, had multiple smoke detectors playing through out conception and, more likely than not, all the way up until birth. This child yelled so loud that one of the pots of coffee shattered and in turn scolded one of the Tim Horton's workers near by. Seriously. And the worst part is, i don't even know what the siren-child was yelling about. i mean, i can only assume it was over a doughnut the parents denied it but THIS? over a DOUGHNUT? even I knew at that age that you have to save those screams for purchases over $200. Anyways, the parents asked the little ring wraith to stop once, then twice, and then, finally, the mother leaned over and whispered something in to its ear. Without a moments hesitation, the raving Justin Beiber fan stopped screaming and looked directly ahead of it, almost as though the mother had whispered some secret word that triggered a trance like "fugue state" in the dying violin of a child. The family then proceeded to walk out of the Tim Horton's and went straight to their car with no problems. After this, i was left wondering what kind of evil this mother said that instilled such obedience in the nails against chalkboard. It could have been anything, and now ill never know...
Feel free to suggest in the comments.
Any who, me and the birthday girl continued our conversation before on...whatever she was talking about. I couldn't be bothered to listen cause it was simply too boring. (sorry i didn't tell you in person) But this in turn taught me something. whenever you re at Tim Horton's with a date, friend, employer, or anyone else, there is always a way to tell when the conversation has gotten bad and how bad the conversation as gotten. When the person you re with starts ripping up their cup, its over. You've fucked the conversation and are officially boring the other person to the point where they have reverted back to their child like interest in destruction. This is when it gets bad however and isn't beyond the point of salvage. What you REALLY need to worry about is when they start making things out of the cups remnants. smiley faces on the table, cut-out snowflakes, origami, its all bad and a sign that you should just put the night out of its misery and say you have to leave. As for me, if you must know, after thirty seconds in to conversation about B.C. or autopsies or something, i was wearing my empty cup as a hat. This is an extreme situation where in goodbyes aren't even needed anymore and you should just get up and leave. unfortunately for me i had to tough out the entire night and eventually ended up with an entire suit of armor fashioned wholly out of Tim Horton's cups and bags.
Happy Birthday
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Rise of the Machines
You know those robots that take over your friends msn accounts and send you bogus links to websites that arent really what they say they are? Like
It seems they got to my sister. See, my sister has been in Greece and Cyprus for the past few weeks so I first suspected it when she brought up an iq test of all things. The machines almost had me but a robotic mind is no match for that of a human, especially my vast cranius. Anyways after having asked the robot a few simple yet expertly placed questions, i had it intellectually check-mated and realized my sister was in danger somewhere in Greece. I have attached the conversation for you to read. If you find clues email them to me. I'm off to save my sister.
Effy says:
Hey r you there?
Alexandros - says:
yea
Effy says:
i just took an IQ quiz
Alexandros - says:
you paid to go to greece and cyprus and thats what you tell me about
i got your iq
0
for losing your fuckin wallet
Effy says:
I was better than I am! I scored 111
Effy says:
you should try if you can beat me, http://iqscoretest8.com/?test=4t7mo7afc
Alexandros - says:
wait aminute....
whats your last name
Effy says:
Im sure you cant lol
Alexandros - says:
SAY IT
SAY VAROUTAS
Effy says:
take it now while Im in the shower and tell me ur score later
Alexandros - says:
LOOK I JUST TOLD YOU ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SAY IT
I KNEW IT!
"HEY MY PENIS GREW THREE FEET WITH THESE PILLS! CHECK IT OUT AT, www.ifuckyourcomputer.com"
Effy says:
Hey r you there?
Alexandros - says:
yea
Effy says:
i just took an IQ quiz
Alexandros - says:
you paid to go to greece and cyprus and thats what you tell me about
i got your iq
0
for losing your fuckin wallet
Effy says:
I was better than I am! I scored 111
Effy says:
you should try if you can beat me, http://iqscoretest8.com/?test=4t7mo7afc
Alexandros - says:
wait aminute....
whats your last name
Effy says:
Im sure you cant lol
Alexandros - says:
SAY IT
SAY VAROUTAS
Effy says:
take it now while Im in the shower and tell me ur score later
Alexandros - says:
LOOK I JUST TOLD YOU ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SAY IT
I KNEW IT!
Friday, August 6, 2010
Ask Alex Anything
The Wandering Metalhead writes,
Dear Alex,
Me and a friend were watching a movie recently and my foot brushed up against his during the movie. I, of course, was quick to call out “No Homo” in case he interpreted it as an invitation for casual anal relations, which got me wondering. If two guys have sex but constantly say “No Homo” throughout, is it still gay? I’d really like to know cause if it isn’t, I’m totally gunna ask him to do it.
Thanks
Well France-, I mean, The Wandering Metalhead, the concept of “No Homo” isn’t as simple as just saying “No Homo” The truth is that there are many factors that play in to how effective the term can be at any given time. Things like clothing, alcohol consumption, even time of day are all crucial factors in the terms effectiveness.
There is even a “No Homo” Ph scale, shown below, that most people and even medical doctors aren’t aware of. This is used as a reference so that people can know the severity of their Homo behavior from day to day. Something with a Low Homo Ph would be accidentally touching your friends hand while walking next to them where as something with a High Homo Ph would be something like drugging your friend and taking advantage of his lifeless body. Eventually there is a point on the scale where no amount of “No Homo’s” can preserve ones sexuality. In the end, you will, in fact, be a Homo. When this happens an Anti Homo procedure will have to be undergone by the recently converted Homo who will, in time, return to their previous state of straightness. This, however, is a completely different subject all together.
As you can see from the equation below, "x" represents the amount of times "No Homo" has to be said for every minute of sustained Homo behavior, "Ph" represents the level on the Homo Ph Scale, "b" represents the blood alcohol level, and “c” represents the percent of skin exposed at the time of the incident.
So, as you can plainly see Wandering Metalhead, once you go past a certain point on the scale, the necessary amount of “No Homo’s” needed would be more than is physically possible by you or any other human being.
I hope this has been an informative answer to your question
Till next time
-Alex
Dear Alex,
Me and a friend were watching a movie recently and my foot brushed up against his during the movie. I, of course, was quick to call out “No Homo” in case he interpreted it as an invitation for casual anal relations, which got me wondering. If two guys have sex but constantly say “No Homo” throughout, is it still gay? I’d really like to know cause if it isn’t, I’m totally gunna ask him to do it.
Thanks
Well France-, I mean, The Wandering Metalhead, the concept of “No Homo” isn’t as simple as just saying “No Homo” The truth is that there are many factors that play in to how effective the term can be at any given time. Things like clothing, alcohol consumption, even time of day are all crucial factors in the terms effectiveness.
There is even a “No Homo” Ph scale, shown below, that most people and even medical doctors aren’t aware of. This is used as a reference so that people can know the severity of their Homo behavior from day to day. Something with a Low Homo Ph would be accidentally touching your friends hand while walking next to them where as something with a High Homo Ph would be something like drugging your friend and taking advantage of his lifeless body. Eventually there is a point on the scale where no amount of “No Homo’s” can preserve ones sexuality. In the end, you will, in fact, be a Homo. When this happens an Anti Homo procedure will have to be undergone by the recently converted Homo who will, in time, return to their previous state of straightness. This, however, is a completely different subject all together.
As you can see from the equation below, "x" represents the amount of times "No Homo" has to be said for every minute of sustained Homo behavior, "Ph" represents the level on the Homo Ph Scale, "b" represents the blood alcohol level, and “c” represents the percent of skin exposed at the time of the incident.
I hope this has been an informative answer to your question
Till next time
-Alex
Thursday, August 5, 2010
They Know You Know They Know You Saw Their Message
I was on the subway the other day and I saw an ad for blackberry messenger advertising the message confirmation feature. This is the thing where if you read someones message, they can SEE that you read the message and based on the amount of time between you reading the message and your response, they decide whether or not they’re offended. What this means in other words is that you can’t ignore your friends. This has to be the stupidest ad campaign ever conceived by man. Its like taking out an ad that says “Blackberries! Now ALWAYS on SPEAKER!” Social networking is based on people ignoring their friends. Be it for their benefit or that of their friends it is a necessary speed bump in any relationship. For example, your phone number falls in to the hands of the wrong person…I don’t know, say someone whose obsessed with cannibalism…openly, very openly, and voices this interest every time he OR she is with you…no matter who you’re in front of. For your own good you don’t want to associate with this person. But you ALSO don’t want to offend this person, lest they take a bite out of you next time they see you. So, when Hannibal Lectar sends you a message saying, “hey, wanna see my collection of knives and body parts?” you say neither yes or no, and instead ignore the message all together and pretend you never got it in the event that they find you and confront you. With this new BBM feature, however, this is impossible because whoever sends you a message will KNOW you read it. Really, this is less a preference of my own and more a safety concern for the public. Peoples lives are in danger when they cant pretend they don’t see or hear things. What if someone accidentally gets a message from a Mafioso where in he mentions the location of a body he recently got rid of. If you get picked up, YOU cant deny that you saw that message, he’s gunna be like “Are you tellin’ me you didn’t see the message dat waz clearly read here on yur’aa blackberry? Cmaaaan. What, are you sayin im stupid? Cmaaan. You KNOW im gunna have to take you out now eh? Forget about it. Shoulda gotten an iphone pison” The dangers are endless.
The other thing that bugs me about this ad is the picture that goes with it. This is an ad that is based on your ability to see the side of people they don’t want you to see. The ad I saw just had a girl on it who was looking at her phone. But everyone knows this wouldn’t be the case. Nobody is that ok with being annoyed. The only real picture you can use is a fat chick looking at her phone and crying after she realized Chad saw her invitation to prom and hasn’t responded in three days. This or some emo kid writing poetry with eye liner. Either way, the blackberry people should have realized here if not earlier that this was, in fact, a terrible idea. Anyways im going to fire this blog off cause its been on my desktop for a long time waiting to be finished.
Btw im listening to cat power.
..yea fuck you too, Francesco.
The other thing that bugs me about this ad is the picture that goes with it. This is an ad that is based on your ability to see the side of people they don’t want you to see. The ad I saw just had a girl on it who was looking at her phone. But everyone knows this wouldn’t be the case. Nobody is that ok with being annoyed. The only real picture you can use is a fat chick looking at her phone and crying after she realized Chad saw her invitation to prom and hasn’t responded in three days. This or some emo kid writing poetry with eye liner. Either way, the blackberry people should have realized here if not earlier that this was, in fact, a terrible idea. Anyways im going to fire this blog off cause its been on my desktop for a long time waiting to be finished.
Btw im listening to cat power.
..yea fuck you too, Francesco.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
cant sleep...clown will eat me
This is my attempt at squeezing out a blog cause im just not inspired lately to the point where it’s a very long and painful effort to write one. I want to learn how to play the piano more and more with every month. I recently started listening to thelonious monk and that’s only made me want to learn more. Ill get on it and learn though, rest assured. It’ll happen. Then, I can seduce all the women in the world with my sexy piano playing and voice. I was trying to decide what movie to watch tonight. My choices were Eternal sunshine on the Spotless Mind or Taxi Driver. I chose taxi driver. Then I switched to eternal sunshine. Taxi driver is just fucked up, like the ending in Chinatown, you just don’t wanna see that stuff more than once in case it rubs off on you and you become psycho yourself. Imagine me driving a taxi…eventually it would get to the point where anyone hailing a taxi would hope they don’t catch me, and when they get in they’ll say, “FUCK, NOT YOU!” and ill smile and say “where to?” im probably never going to get married….or I will get married but ill end up being one of those couples that people don’t like. You know the crazy people that just feed eachothers abnormalities and encourage one anothers strange behavior? I was watching block party by chappelle and there was this weird couple that lived in some abandoned building. The wife thought she was a witch-sorry, WAS a witch. Who am I to judge. OMG INCEPTION WAS SICK! You HAVE to go see this movie it’ll blow your fuckin mind. I came out of the theatre and my brain was sore, though, I sat in the front most row so that might have something to do with it too, but I credit the movie too cause it really was one of those movies that you have to work hard to keep up with. Its like a tour around a museum where the tour guide is on a moped and you have to run to keep up with him, but in the end, the museum turns out to be your relationship with your father or something. Its weird but SO good omg…go see it. I don’t wanna ruin the end for you but, Leonardo decaprio dies. Turns out there was an ice berg in the water and the whole ship sinks. Im not sure what im talking about anymore…I don’t have anything fueling me anymore….what am I saying….sheppards pie must behave…fml…I cant sleep….im tempted to delete all this cause it’s the most pointless blog ever…but…this is more writing then what I did in the past five years of high school. No im posting it…cant sleep…cant sleep….clown will eat me….cant sleep….clown will eat me…. Jimmy falon sucks..
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Value Pack! 3 features for the price of ONE!
There is a great many things I can write about when its 2:40 in the morning and the humidity level has essentially turned my room in to the inside of a kettle. Lets see, whats on the agenda…
The centipede I vacuumed up
A review of the new Laura Marling album
Me beating half life 2 in less than 24 hours
But FIRST! Ice cream, or ice….or liquid nitrogen for christ’s sake, something cool.
……
Cool, thanks for waiting.
Ok, where should we start. Well for starters my friend Ana has left me to fend for myself in this cruel and unforgiving world until August 11th, when she returns from Serbia. So, due to this inconvenience, I must do what I can to occupy myself in her stead until then. So far, activities have included things like: job hunting, going to best buy, skipping rocks at woodbine beach with Christina who I might add totally emasculated me by skipping a rock like...7 times compared to my measly 2, uhmmm that’s it so far but she only left this afternoon so im off to a pretty good start.
THE CENTIPEDE
SO! I go to brush my teeth and what do I see in the bathroom in the corner? The BIGGEST FUCKIN CENTIPEDE YOU’VE EVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE! Like, this thing was so big I thought it was a comb. Anyways, it was about 1:30 am and I was trapped in the bathroom, being held hostage by this centipede by the door. Now I know what some of you are thinking and NO! I wasn’t “MAN” enough to just “WAD UP SOME TOILET PAPER AND KILL IT” cause that involves putting my hands within jumping range. NO! I HAVENT ever seen one jump but fucked if im gunna take the chance. So, as I was saying, I was being held captive by this thing in the bathroom and I needed to move quick to survive. Then I thought “VACUUM” you know the kind, with the long extending head? So as it was setting up its camera for the ransom video I gunned it out of the room and ran to the vacuum cleaner. I quickly assembled the head and put as many attachments on it as possible. I never understood why our vacuum cleaner came with a scope until today. The mounted grenade launcher was a little much however, but then again I wasn’t sure how many hits it would take to take this thing out. Anyways, it occurred to me that it was 1:30 in the morning and that I could potentially wake everybody up, but I had a food reason…at least…I think I did..
(By the way, this part is open to debate in the comments section. Was it wrong of me to use the vacuum so late? Bear in mind I wouldn’t have been able to sleep knowing I let it get away. )
So I run in the bathroom and press myself against the far wall and with a rather loud whisper I said “YOU WANNA PLAY ROUGH? HOKAY! SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!” and vacuumed the SHIT outta that ma fucka.
Im a fuckin war hero alright. Whoever is lucky enough to marry me can rest assured that I’ll handle any bugs in the house from ANY distance over 5 feet. Anyways that’s the end of that story, on to the next one.
HALF LIFE 2
Im gunna be quick with this one cause it hurts to think about this game right now. Half Life 2 is this kick ass game that I used to play in the internet café’s in Cyprus when I was down there a few years back. I fell in love with this game the first I played it and since then I have been struggling with finding another copy to play. I know what some of you are thinking, but that’s not what I mean. There was more than enough copies going around, but finding one that WORKED was the problem. For starters, theres the legit copy of the game. Well…kinda legit. It was off of someone else’s steam account but wouldn’t start. Then I downloaded a bunch of cracked versions but the original game is so hard to find. Anyways I finally found one that worked but it….was in spanish. And I swear I could hear god laughing when I started the game, but anyways. My trusty friend Max…or Marc or something bought it on steam and I tried again and it worked. This game features and in depth story line, great graphics, and overall is one of the best fps’ of all time. However, it is highly addictive so don’t play in one sitting if you can help it. Im slowly getting used to sunlight again but it will take time.
LAURA MARLING ALBUM
This review is also going to be rather short but that’s because im scared that if I let it go on too long ill get emotional and talk about how I want to find laura marling and ask her to go out with me. I Speak Because I Can is an awesome album and its easy to listen to. So far I like all of her stuff and I cant wait to see what else she is going to put out. HOWEVER, the new mos def album is ALSO sick and TOTALLY warrents a mention. Ive been listening to The Ecstatic non stop since I got it, so much actually that after I listened to the laura marling album I listened to the mos def one again. Look up this album. Its LIVE! LIKE SO GOOD! BAWD BEATS ALL OVA YA FACE! Im SO tired….and hot…my brain is overheating. His album features these cool Arabic samples and instruments and it just sounds so sick and unique. Oh, and it features Slick Rick, which is always a bonus. Cant suggest a song on its own cause theyre all good so just pick one, you’ll just end up listening to all of them anyways.
K, im out. I gotta go take my pillow out of the freezer and try to sleep.
Goodnight everyone.
PEACE!
The centipede I vacuumed up
A review of the new Laura Marling album
Me beating half life 2 in less than 24 hours
But FIRST! Ice cream, or ice….or liquid nitrogen for christ’s sake, something cool.
……
Cool, thanks for waiting.
Ok, where should we start. Well for starters my friend Ana has left me to fend for myself in this cruel and unforgiving world until August 11th, when she returns from Serbia. So, due to this inconvenience, I must do what I can to occupy myself in her stead until then. So far, activities have included things like: job hunting, going to best buy, skipping rocks at woodbine beach with Christina who I might add totally emasculated me by skipping a rock like...7 times compared to my measly 2, uhmmm that’s it so far but she only left this afternoon so im off to a pretty good start.
THE CENTIPEDE
SO! I go to brush my teeth and what do I see in the bathroom in the corner? The BIGGEST FUCKIN CENTIPEDE YOU’VE EVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE! Like, this thing was so big I thought it was a comb. Anyways, it was about 1:30 am and I was trapped in the bathroom, being held hostage by this centipede by the door. Now I know what some of you are thinking and NO! I wasn’t “MAN” enough to just “WAD UP SOME TOILET PAPER AND KILL IT” cause that involves putting my hands within jumping range. NO! I HAVENT ever seen one jump but fucked if im gunna take the chance. So, as I was saying, I was being held captive by this thing in the bathroom and I needed to move quick to survive. Then I thought “VACUUM” you know the kind, with the long extending head? So as it was setting up its camera for the ransom video I gunned it out of the room and ran to the vacuum cleaner. I quickly assembled the head and put as many attachments on it as possible. I never understood why our vacuum cleaner came with a scope until today. The mounted grenade launcher was a little much however, but then again I wasn’t sure how many hits it would take to take this thing out. Anyways, it occurred to me that it was 1:30 in the morning and that I could potentially wake everybody up, but I had a food reason…at least…I think I did..
(By the way, this part is open to debate in the comments section. Was it wrong of me to use the vacuum so late? Bear in mind I wouldn’t have been able to sleep knowing I let it get away. )
So I run in the bathroom and press myself against the far wall and with a rather loud whisper I said “YOU WANNA PLAY ROUGH? HOKAY! SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!” and vacuumed the SHIT outta that ma fucka.
Im a fuckin war hero alright. Whoever is lucky enough to marry me can rest assured that I’ll handle any bugs in the house from ANY distance over 5 feet. Anyways that’s the end of that story, on to the next one.
HALF LIFE 2
Im gunna be quick with this one cause it hurts to think about this game right now. Half Life 2 is this kick ass game that I used to play in the internet café’s in Cyprus when I was down there a few years back. I fell in love with this game the first I played it and since then I have been struggling with finding another copy to play. I know what some of you are thinking, but that’s not what I mean. There was more than enough copies going around, but finding one that WORKED was the problem. For starters, theres the legit copy of the game. Well…kinda legit. It was off of someone else’s steam account but wouldn’t start. Then I downloaded a bunch of cracked versions but the original game is so hard to find. Anyways I finally found one that worked but it….was in spanish. And I swear I could hear god laughing when I started the game, but anyways. My trusty friend Max…or Marc or something bought it on steam and I tried again and it worked. This game features and in depth story line, great graphics, and overall is one of the best fps’ of all time. However, it is highly addictive so don’t play in one sitting if you can help it. Im slowly getting used to sunlight again but it will take time.
LAURA MARLING ALBUM
This review is also going to be rather short but that’s because im scared that if I let it go on too long ill get emotional and talk about how I want to find laura marling and ask her to go out with me. I Speak Because I Can is an awesome album and its easy to listen to. So far I like all of her stuff and I cant wait to see what else she is going to put out. HOWEVER, the new mos def album is ALSO sick and TOTALLY warrents a mention. Ive been listening to The Ecstatic non stop since I got it, so much actually that after I listened to the laura marling album I listened to the mos def one again. Look up this album. Its LIVE! LIKE SO GOOD! BAWD BEATS ALL OVA YA FACE! Im SO tired….and hot…my brain is overheating. His album features these cool Arabic samples and instruments and it just sounds so sick and unique. Oh, and it features Slick Rick, which is always a bonus. Cant suggest a song on its own cause theyre all good so just pick one, you’ll just end up listening to all of them anyways.
K, im out. I gotta go take my pillow out of the freezer and try to sleep.
Goodnight everyone.
PEACE!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Magnitude Part 2
The time was around 2:15 and, as I said before in part 1, I was watching the Bourne Ultimatum. The house was empty, not a mouse was stirring, not even a mouse. I, however, was stirring…a cool and refreshing drink for myself, that is. I walked over to the couch and resumed the movie. It was around this point that the couch started to shake. I could feel a light vibration rocking me back and forth. As I sat there, shaking, I took the time to look around me, there was no explanation in plain site. Still shaking, I tried to explain the rocking to myself. Perhaps the dishwasher…or the washing machine, but in order for one of these appliances to move the entire house they would have to make much more noise….and fire. Suddenly, the shaking stopped. Still, unaware of the source of the rocking, I got on my knees and looked under the couch. There was nothing there either. I would have investigated further if I wasn’t in the middle of a movie, but I was.
Shortly after resuming the movie I received a text message from my trusty Italian stoolie, Francesco. The text message wrote:
“Eh pison, you feel that earth-shake. Holy cannoli, I was just a spinnin’ my pizza dough when it happened. Now I got olive oil and pizza sauce all over my kitchen and pizza dough on my ceiling. What am I a gunna do?”
I tried to call and assure him that everything was going to be ok but these Italians, you cant talk sense to them, so I just hung up the phone. I knew that I needed to find out if there were any other survivors from the earthquake so I finished up my movie and turned on the news. I found myself watching testimonies of the survivors, many of them still walking about the streets, probably because they lost their houses. Then I saw some of the most shocking imagery of my life. (Note: if you are reading this aloud and there are children in the room you may want to continue reading as it is advised that young children are read to regularly.) There was a pharmacy in Ottawa that suffered major losses when over five bottles of shampoo fell off of the shelf. There was no word on whether or not the bottles broke but I assume they were rushed to the nearest hospital immediately. The image kept coming on to the screen, I just wanted it to stop. I called my friend Ryan about the earthquake but it seemed that he had been knocked unconscious by the earthquake hours before it struck and wasn’t awake for it.
The events that occurred on June the 23rd, 2010 should never be forgot. I am collecting donations that will go towards a memorial for those lost on this sad day in our lives.
Music:
M.I.A.
Shortly after resuming the movie I received a text message from my trusty Italian stoolie, Francesco. The text message wrote:
“Eh pison, you feel that earth-shake. Holy cannoli, I was just a spinnin’ my pizza dough when it happened. Now I got olive oil and pizza sauce all over my kitchen and pizza dough on my ceiling. What am I a gunna do?”
I tried to call and assure him that everything was going to be ok but these Italians, you cant talk sense to them, so I just hung up the phone. I knew that I needed to find out if there were any other survivors from the earthquake so I finished up my movie and turned on the news. I found myself watching testimonies of the survivors, many of them still walking about the streets, probably because they lost their houses. Then I saw some of the most shocking imagery of my life. (Note: if you are reading this aloud and there are children in the room you may want to continue reading as it is advised that young children are read to regularly.) There was a pharmacy in Ottawa that suffered major losses when over five bottles of shampoo fell off of the shelf. There was no word on whether or not the bottles broke but I assume they were rushed to the nearest hospital immediately. The image kept coming on to the screen, I just wanted it to stop. I called my friend Ryan about the earthquake but it seemed that he had been knocked unconscious by the earthquake hours before it struck and wasn’t awake for it.
The events that occurred on June the 23rd, 2010 should never be forgot. I am collecting donations that will go towards a memorial for those lost on this sad day in our lives.
Music:
M.I.A.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Magnitude Part 1
So I was sitting on the couch NOT studying for the exam I have tomorrow watching Bourne Ultimatum, thinking to myself “how wonderful would it be to write a blog right about now? It’s too bad there’s nothing to write about” at which point god opened up the clouds and said “fine, here’s an earthquake, write about that.” And write I will, friends.
It was 12:37, Wednesday the 23rd. There was rubble and debris everywhere. I couldn’t see through the dust. I could hear my mother yelling in the distance and there was faint aroma lingering in the air that reminded me of my childhood. I was disorientated and my mouth was dry. I wasn’t sure how long I had been out or which way I was even facing but I knew I had to make a move soon if I was to get to my mother in time. I crawled towards the door of my bedroom and with my every ounce of strength, reached up and pulled it open, forcing all of the obstructions blocking it out of the way. Immediately the sun hit my eyes and I knew I was almost free. In the distance I could see what looked to be a rescue worker approaching me but I couldn’t see the face. They were tall, wide shoulders, the type of person that could hurt people if they wanted to but instead would dedicate their life to helping. As they got closer, I could hear their voice echoing. I looked up, squinting, thinking of my family. It was at this point when they bent over and yelled “WHY ARE YOU CRAWLING ON THE FLOOR! STOP BEING STUPID AND GO GET BREAKFAST! And CLEAN YOUR ROOM, IT LOOKS LIKE AN EARTHQUAKE HIT IN HERE!” My mother was right, I was being stupid, and my room did look like an earthquake had hit it. So, I stood up and went in to the kitchen to get food.
It was 12:37, Wednesday the 23rd. There was rubble and debris everywhere. I couldn’t see through the dust. I could hear my mother yelling in the distance and there was faint aroma lingering in the air that reminded me of my childhood. I was disorientated and my mouth was dry. I wasn’t sure how long I had been out or which way I was even facing but I knew I had to make a move soon if I was to get to my mother in time. I crawled towards the door of my bedroom and with my every ounce of strength, reached up and pulled it open, forcing all of the obstructions blocking it out of the way. Immediately the sun hit my eyes and I knew I was almost free. In the distance I could see what looked to be a rescue worker approaching me but I couldn’t see the face. They were tall, wide shoulders, the type of person that could hurt people if they wanted to but instead would dedicate their life to helping. As they got closer, I could hear their voice echoing. I looked up, squinting, thinking of my family. It was at this point when they bent over and yelled “WHY ARE YOU CRAWLING ON THE FLOOR! STOP BEING STUPID AND GO GET BREAKFAST! And CLEAN YOUR ROOM, IT LOOKS LIKE AN EARTHQUAKE HIT IN HERE!” My mother was right, I was being stupid, and my room did look like an earthquake had hit it. So, I stood up and went in to the kitchen to get food.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Conversations With Francesco
Alexandros - says:
you coming or wha
Francesco says:
i didn't get an answer
Alexandros - says:
k night
Francesco says:
WTF
DON'T PUNISH ME LIKE THAT
IT'S NOT MY FAULT ME AND MY DAD DON'T LIKE TO WATCH NOOBS DO COMEDY
IT'S THEIR FAULT FOR BEING NOOBS
Alexandros - says:
BRING YOUR DAD AND BROTHER OR I KILL YOUR SON
Francesco says:
ALEX
I AM YOUR FATHER
Alexandros - says:
LOL
you coming or wha
Francesco says:
i didn't get an answer
Alexandros - says:
k night
Francesco says:
WTF
DON'T PUNISH ME LIKE THAT
IT'S NOT MY FAULT ME AND MY DAD DON'T LIKE TO WATCH NOOBS DO COMEDY
IT'S THEIR FAULT FOR BEING NOOBS
Alexandros - says:
BRING YOUR DAD AND BROTHER OR I KILL YOUR SON
Francesco says:
ALEX
I AM YOUR FATHER
Alexandros - says:
LOL
Monday, June 14, 2010
5 a.m.
Well, its five in the morning and i cant sleep. i just had a piece of toast with homemade strawberry jam, some milk in a cup i got from a bar in quebec, and two calcium supplements cause lately my joints have been hurting. i remember getting the free cup at the resteraunt. it had a brand of amaretto on the side of it but i cant be bothered to get up and check what the brand was. anyways.
we were on our way to quebec for a school trip and there was a stop off. my friends had gone to get food at a resteraunt. me and my school mate derek went to join them but didnt feel the urge to order a full meal, wait for it to get made, and then take our time enjoying and savouring said meal all within the fifteen minute window that was our bathroom break. seriously, you would have to order your meal extra rare if not still alive to get it on time. i, being the smartest student on the special ed trip just ordered a coffee since it was still pretty early. i figured however since everyone else had such a nice meal coming to them i might as well get a nice coffee. thats A NICE COFFEE not AN ICE COFFEE, right francesco? but thats a different story all together. so i wanted a nice coffee. you know the kind, with whip cream and syrop and nuts and foam and all that good stuff. while looking through the menu a fish net of an offer caught my salmon of an eye. "free glass with order of coffee"?? i was sold. i ordered the coffee. it was so beautiful when it arrived that i wanted to submerge it in liquid nitrogen and use it as a christmas tree ornament. there was whip cream and...well everything i expected and more. what never occured to me though was the connection between the coffee and the offer of a coffee cup that had an amaretto cream logo on its side. one sip of the coffee however and the connection was made. apparantly in quebec they A) dont i.d. teenagers that come in large groups cause apparantly thats what we WANT them to do and B) dont find it peculiar in the slightest that somebody would order an alcoholic coffee at 11 a.m. none the less, being the enviromentally conscious hero that i am, insisted on NOT wasting the coffee and simply started the days drinking a few hours earlier. Upon entering the bus i promptly greeted my teacher, trying to breathe out as much as possible mind you in hopes that he would catch a wiff of the amaretto that was enjoyed just moments before, and quickly made my way to the back of the bus where i slept all the way to quebec.
hey...thats it! i should just find some amaretto. that will put me to sleep right away!
we were on our way to quebec for a school trip and there was a stop off. my friends had gone to get food at a resteraunt. me and my school mate derek went to join them but didnt feel the urge to order a full meal, wait for it to get made, and then take our time enjoying and savouring said meal all within the fifteen minute window that was our bathroom break. seriously, you would have to order your meal extra rare if not still alive to get it on time. i, being the smartest student on the special ed trip just ordered a coffee since it was still pretty early. i figured however since everyone else had such a nice meal coming to them i might as well get a nice coffee. thats A NICE COFFEE not AN ICE COFFEE, right francesco? but thats a different story all together. so i wanted a nice coffee. you know the kind, with whip cream and syrop and nuts and foam and all that good stuff. while looking through the menu a fish net of an offer caught my salmon of an eye. "free glass with order of coffee"?? i was sold. i ordered the coffee. it was so beautiful when it arrived that i wanted to submerge it in liquid nitrogen and use it as a christmas tree ornament. there was whip cream and...well everything i expected and more. what never occured to me though was the connection between the coffee and the offer of a coffee cup that had an amaretto cream logo on its side. one sip of the coffee however and the connection was made. apparantly in quebec they A) dont i.d. teenagers that come in large groups cause apparantly thats what we WANT them to do and B) dont find it peculiar in the slightest that somebody would order an alcoholic coffee at 11 a.m. none the less, being the enviromentally conscious hero that i am, insisted on NOT wasting the coffee and simply started the days drinking a few hours earlier. Upon entering the bus i promptly greeted my teacher, trying to breathe out as much as possible mind you in hopes that he would catch a wiff of the amaretto that was enjoyed just moments before, and quickly made my way to the back of the bus where i slept all the way to quebec.
hey...thats it! i should just find some amaretto. that will put me to sleep right away!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
My First Car
A monologue i whipped up for drama while getting out of the shower. I tell you thats when i think of my best stuff
Dating her was like driving my first car. I loved her but she was just too much on insurance. Maintenance was through the roof and she failed every verbal emissions test, and yet…I’d take her over a Ferrari any day of the week; god knows she can move as fast as one. But she was dangerous. She had no safety features. No airbags, no seatbelts. She was a dangerous ride. She was always spinning out mentally. Her grip on reality was terrible. No traction control whatsoever. And yet despite all of these flaws when I step back and look at the curves on her body...and that spacious trunk, I miss her. I miss the way the seats would hold me when I got in, and the noise she made when I turned her on. Forget the near death experiences I wanted more of her. I wanted to pop her clutch and shift her gears till she started to shake. I wanted to take her around the world, and I would have too…but she just couldn’t handle it. Every time we got just outside of Toronto she would start to rattle and fall apart. I would always take her back and fix her up but I could never get her to hold together long enough to actually go somewhere. I felt obligated to keep trying though. I wasn’t going to give up on my first love. I kept trying until one day we were speeding on the highway and a belt snapped in the engine. She overheated and blew a head gasket. Smoke started spewing from the hood and I couldn’t see where we were going. We smashed in to a wall. I was lucky to escape the flaming wreckage with my life. Maybe one day I’ll take the charred remains and rebuild her, try again. Get her a nice new paint job and buy her some chrome. But for now I need a reliable car. A car than can get me from A to B without running out of gas every ten miles. I may not love her the same way but she’ll get me by. Maybe ill get a mini-van or an old Toyota corolla…
Dating her was like driving my first car. I loved her but she was just too much on insurance. Maintenance was through the roof and she failed every verbal emissions test, and yet…I’d take her over a Ferrari any day of the week; god knows she can move as fast as one. But she was dangerous. She had no safety features. No airbags, no seatbelts. She was a dangerous ride. She was always spinning out mentally. Her grip on reality was terrible. No traction control whatsoever. And yet despite all of these flaws when I step back and look at the curves on her body...and that spacious trunk, I miss her. I miss the way the seats would hold me when I got in, and the noise she made when I turned her on. Forget the near death experiences I wanted more of her. I wanted to pop her clutch and shift her gears till she started to shake. I wanted to take her around the world, and I would have too…but she just couldn’t handle it. Every time we got just outside of Toronto she would start to rattle and fall apart. I would always take her back and fix her up but I could never get her to hold together long enough to actually go somewhere. I felt obligated to keep trying though. I wasn’t going to give up on my first love. I kept trying until one day we were speeding on the highway and a belt snapped in the engine. She overheated and blew a head gasket. Smoke started spewing from the hood and I couldn’t see where we were going. We smashed in to a wall. I was lucky to escape the flaming wreckage with my life. Maybe one day I’ll take the charred remains and rebuild her, try again. Get her a nice new paint job and buy her some chrome. But for now I need a reliable car. A car than can get me from A to B without running out of gas every ten miles. I may not love her the same way but she’ll get me by. Maybe ill get a mini-van or an old Toyota corolla…
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
The Hindi Caste System
While rummaging through my old assignments and files on my usb stick, i found a journal i got my co-op receptionist to write for me while i was at Lenz Entertainment, a music production house, for co-op.
This week Matthew, the humble receptionist, delivered an extensive tutorial concerning the caste system within the entertainment industry. Unfortunately if paralleled with the Hindi caste system, I’d be a woman. Although this may seem like an attack on women, it is not. Rather it is a short introductory illustration that situates my status within co-op.
I imagined a glorious workspace where creative minds expelled the bright colors of creativity, where music springs forth from an idea and a melody, where art is created. Little did I know that most of the glory resided in contracts, figuring out licensing, and administrative meetings determining the logistics of the project. Those able to bask in the creative light are very few, and I am not one of them.
I can’t complain, though. I have mastered the art of monotonous data entry, and figured out how to cut 33 seconds from Michael’s daily shoe shine. He is a wonderful man, and even though unaware of corporal punishment’s disfavor in our culture, he still wins one’s heart over immediately with his shining smile, and silly rancor.
Ah, entertainment. Who knew? Who knew that behind the creative product, viewed in all its perfection, there is a whole other world of dissatisfaction, which if viewed from a distance is almost more enjoyable. I hope, in my time here, I can be that fly on the wall that revels in the soap opera-esque drama which (If I’m lucky) ensues.
This week Matthew, the humble receptionist, delivered an extensive tutorial concerning the caste system within the entertainment industry. Unfortunately if paralleled with the Hindi caste system, I’d be a woman. Although this may seem like an attack on women, it is not. Rather it is a short introductory illustration that situates my status within co-op.
I imagined a glorious workspace where creative minds expelled the bright colors of creativity, where music springs forth from an idea and a melody, where art is created. Little did I know that most of the glory resided in contracts, figuring out licensing, and administrative meetings determining the logistics of the project. Those able to bask in the creative light are very few, and I am not one of them.
I can’t complain, though. I have mastered the art of monotonous data entry, and figured out how to cut 33 seconds from Michael’s daily shoe shine. He is a wonderful man, and even though unaware of corporal punishment’s disfavor in our culture, he still wins one’s heart over immediately with his shining smile, and silly rancor.
Ah, entertainment. Who knew? Who knew that behind the creative product, viewed in all its perfection, there is a whole other world of dissatisfaction, which if viewed from a distance is almost more enjoyable. I hope, in my time here, I can be that fly on the wall that revels in the soap opera-esque drama which (If I’m lucky) ensues.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Reflection
I am to reflect on the following topic for english class, or my teacher will break my legs...
"Disillusion is a common experience of growing up. We find that people in the adult world whom we once idealized are less than ideal, and that situations we considered innocent are actually corrupt. How do people encountering the "real world" for the first time handle these discoveries?"
It’s common for kids growing up to realize that some things aren’t as they appear. Since birth we have most of our ethical choices handled for us. But this is from a small pool of choices and doesn’t compare to the ones we have to make as we grow up. Of course, this larger pool of choices I refer to wouldn’t be a problem if we didn’t have to start making them ourselves, but we do. It’s like getting one, and JUST one, ride around the block with the training wheels on our bike. Then, off with the training wheels and in to heavy traffic. There is no slow or steady transition in to the real world. As a matter of fact, we don’t even get a heads up. We’re just thrusted in to life without any warning.
This is usually a very scary and emotional time for young people and some are lucky enough to only have that. Many others though, don’t have it as good. When it turns out that your parents lied to you about being non smokers, or about your dad being your real dad, or about your whole life being a TV show, it can be rather earth shattering for people who have never known an alternative reality. An entire belief system built upon that of your parents is ready to collapse with the slightest screw up. This no doubt causes loads of stress for the parents who could later on question their own judgment for fear of screwing up, but I’m not reflecting on that so shut up. I’m reflecting on the mind blowing realizations we make as we grow up.
We spend our whole lives looking to others, trying to find someone strong to put our faith in, because we can’t stand the pressure of making our own choices. We want someone else to do it for us. Like atlas holding up the earth’s weight, just waiting for the split second we can relax. Some of us make the mistake of being impatient and toss our trust in the hands of anyone. These people are doomed to have their trust go from one person to another until they just don’t believe in anyone anymore. These are the casualties in life. Then there are the others who learn that they just have to grab the reigns and do their best. And some just don’t do anything. These people tend to excel at World of Warcraft.
One way or another, we all learn that, despite what we believed when we were young, times have changed and we have to choose which way we go eventually. There is no compass in life, no matter how badly you want one there. There is no direction or map or trail. There are no patterns and no trustworthy people. Even our parents are subject to questionable behavior sometimes. The best thing that we can do is try to prevent this from governing who we are in life and instead make conscious, aware decisions because in the end it’s just you against the world. RIP Tupac.
P.s. Ive decided that instead of going on and on about how julie london should have been born in the nineties and have a locker next to mine, i am going to instead just post whatever i was listening to while writing my blog at the bottom of each page.
TODAYS METABOTS ARE:
The Stills
Timber Timbre
"Disillusion is a common experience of growing up. We find that people in the adult world whom we once idealized are less than ideal, and that situations we considered innocent are actually corrupt. How do people encountering the "real world" for the first time handle these discoveries?"
It’s common for kids growing up to realize that some things aren’t as they appear. Since birth we have most of our ethical choices handled for us. But this is from a small pool of choices and doesn’t compare to the ones we have to make as we grow up. Of course, this larger pool of choices I refer to wouldn’t be a problem if we didn’t have to start making them ourselves, but we do. It’s like getting one, and JUST one, ride around the block with the training wheels on our bike. Then, off with the training wheels and in to heavy traffic. There is no slow or steady transition in to the real world. As a matter of fact, we don’t even get a heads up. We’re just thrusted in to life without any warning.
This is usually a very scary and emotional time for young people and some are lucky enough to only have that. Many others though, don’t have it as good. When it turns out that your parents lied to you about being non smokers, or about your dad being your real dad, or about your whole life being a TV show, it can be rather earth shattering for people who have never known an alternative reality. An entire belief system built upon that of your parents is ready to collapse with the slightest screw up. This no doubt causes loads of stress for the parents who could later on question their own judgment for fear of screwing up, but I’m not reflecting on that so shut up. I’m reflecting on the mind blowing realizations we make as we grow up.
We spend our whole lives looking to others, trying to find someone strong to put our faith in, because we can’t stand the pressure of making our own choices. We want someone else to do it for us. Like atlas holding up the earth’s weight, just waiting for the split second we can relax. Some of us make the mistake of being impatient and toss our trust in the hands of anyone. These people are doomed to have their trust go from one person to another until they just don’t believe in anyone anymore. These are the casualties in life. Then there are the others who learn that they just have to grab the reigns and do their best. And some just don’t do anything. These people tend to excel at World of Warcraft.
One way or another, we all learn that, despite what we believed when we were young, times have changed and we have to choose which way we go eventually. There is no compass in life, no matter how badly you want one there. There is no direction or map or trail. There are no patterns and no trustworthy people. Even our parents are subject to questionable behavior sometimes. The best thing that we can do is try to prevent this from governing who we are in life and instead make conscious, aware decisions because in the end it’s just you against the world. RIP Tupac.
P.s. Ive decided that instead of going on and on about how julie london should have been born in the nineties and have a locker next to mine, i am going to instead just post whatever i was listening to while writing my blog at the bottom of each page.
TODAYS METABOTS ARE:
The Stills
Timber Timbre
Monday, April 19, 2010
STICKY FLOORS
We can learn much from the behavior of those around us. For example, if I Find myself in a town where in everyone is wearing a poncho and sombrero, it would be safe to assume I was in Mexico, or chimichongas. But this is a new blog so on to my point. I was in the movies and I came to the shocking realization that unlike every other aspect of life that has steadily been improving since its creation, movies have been moving backwards. It’s so clear and yet nobody is doing anything about it. When I look around at all of the uncomfortable and miserable people at the theatres I realize that people dont actually enjoy themselves at the movies. It’s a chore. I look in to the drooping faces of disappointed movie go-ers and my heart weeps for them. So here I propose a few adjustments that should be made to all movie theatres based on the behavior of the people forced to suffer through the movies.
First and foremost is the problem with cell phones. People are always complaining about others on their cell phones during a movie, presumably talking to the friend that DIDNT come with them to the movies. My solution? Payphones at the back of the theatres. They’re out of the way, private because of the booth, and will generate extra revenue for the theatres. Alternatively we could bring back the telegraph. However, this option would be more complicated to set up due to the lack of telegraphs there would be outside of the theatre. Aside from the actual phone calls, the glow of the cell phone screens in general are fairly distracting. Be it texting, browsing, or games, people are forced to use their phones because they just aren’t entertained enough at the movies. This is a quick fix. Simply line the Isles with pinball machines and arcade versions of video games, a few ping pong tables near the front, and a pool in the back. This way, everyone can stay occupied during the movie. Now, some would argue that the pinball would just create more light, but this can easily be quelled with sunglasses given out at the door. At first, people will think that they are for 3d effects, but they will quickly realize they’re just sunglasses.
The second problem in the theatres is the utter lack of privacy. Whether you want privacy with a significant other...or just for yourself...you can’t have it without the eyes of RUDE people constantly glaring at you because they’re more concerned about what’s going on in the movie rather than what’s going on in your heart. Love is real and you shouldn’t have to sacrifice it for others. What do I propose? I propose we put up curtains dividing all of the seats from one another. These curtains will allow for extra privacy for when you want to express your love to your girlfriend...or just “enjoy” the movie on a more "intimate" level.
Now, the last problem that most everyone has at the movies is talking. When you think of something really funny to say during the movie or some creative way to improve the dialog, you shouldn’t have to miss out on MORE dialogue just to voice your opinion. How do you prevent a problem like this? Easy, just give everyone a remote control as they enter the theatre that can control the movie. This way, whenever you need to say something to the person next to you or voice your opinion but don’t want to wait and risk forgetting it, you can simply pause the movie, turn around, and voice way. This way, nobody misses a single moment of dialogue.
With a few more innovations I firmly believe that movie theatres can be made more efficient and more comfortable for the future. Until then, however, let’s all try to be strong and suffer through this dark age of movie theatre design.
DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK
First and foremost is the problem with cell phones. People are always complaining about others on their cell phones during a movie, presumably talking to the friend that DIDNT come with them to the movies. My solution? Payphones at the back of the theatres. They’re out of the way, private because of the booth, and will generate extra revenue for the theatres. Alternatively we could bring back the telegraph. However, this option would be more complicated to set up due to the lack of telegraphs there would be outside of the theatre. Aside from the actual phone calls, the glow of the cell phone screens in general are fairly distracting. Be it texting, browsing, or games, people are forced to use their phones because they just aren’t entertained enough at the movies. This is a quick fix. Simply line the Isles with pinball machines and arcade versions of video games, a few ping pong tables near the front, and a pool in the back. This way, everyone can stay occupied during the movie. Now, some would argue that the pinball would just create more light, but this can easily be quelled with sunglasses given out at the door. At first, people will think that they are for 3d effects, but they will quickly realize they’re just sunglasses.
The second problem in the theatres is the utter lack of privacy. Whether you want privacy with a significant other...or just for yourself...you can’t have it without the eyes of RUDE people constantly glaring at you because they’re more concerned about what’s going on in the movie rather than what’s going on in your heart. Love is real and you shouldn’t have to sacrifice it for others. What do I propose? I propose we put up curtains dividing all of the seats from one another. These curtains will allow for extra privacy for when you want to express your love to your girlfriend...or just “enjoy” the movie on a more "intimate" level.
Now, the last problem that most everyone has at the movies is talking. When you think of something really funny to say during the movie or some creative way to improve the dialog, you shouldn’t have to miss out on MORE dialogue just to voice your opinion. How do you prevent a problem like this? Easy, just give everyone a remote control as they enter the theatre that can control the movie. This way, whenever you need to say something to the person next to you or voice your opinion but don’t want to wait and risk forgetting it, you can simply pause the movie, turn around, and voice way. This way, nobody misses a single moment of dialogue.
With a few more innovations I firmly believe that movie theatres can be made more efficient and more comfortable for the future. Until then, however, let’s all try to be strong and suffer through this dark age of movie theatre design.
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Saturday, April 10, 2010
Chimichognas...or whatever
My nutrition teacher who goes on and on about eating healthy just unwrapped a breakfast sandwich from taco bell and started eating it. From Taco Bell of all places...they don’t even advertise breakfast at taco bell, do they? I mean, there’s Tim Horton’s or McDonalds or wild life in the street you could eat instead of TACO bell. Why TACO BELL and WHY for BREAKFAST of all meals!
Wait, wait, let me start again because it’s not fair I take out last night’s anger out on Taco Bell. You see, yesterday my cousin Michaels birthday so his girlfriend decided to throw him a surprise dinner at "chimichongas" which oddly enough ISNT a sushi place but is instead a Mexican restaurant and tequila bar. The cluttered environment and annoying salsa music was quick to aggravate my blood. I guess being plunged into this "delightful" culture was too much for my weak heart, for it stopped within the first four minutes and I had to be carried out of the resteraunt to try again.
Let me rewind a bit. I don’t HATE Mexican people by any means, I love western movies and chihuahuas; I just can’t handle the culture. I get anxious. It’s like putting a tiger in a fun house; you can’t be mad when I start biting people.
Anyways, as I walked in to the fiesta, for the second time, I swore to myself that if I saw a SINGLE sombrero, I was leaving. As my luck would have it, there WAS a guy wearing a sombrero, but he was selling oranges so I figured he was legit and let him go. I made my way to the table and took my seat.
Have you ever sat in a chair that you could have SWORN was tilted downwards? The way my seat was built was in such a way where if I relaxed the slightest bit, my underwear would ride up to my nipples. It was like something out of a Mexican SAW movie. This isn’t the worst part however. My seat was right directly in the middle of everyone else’s seat, against the wall, cut off by all the tables. What this meant was that if I wanted to go to the bathroom, I would have to pick the side of the table whose friendship I value least and ask them all to get up and shimmy down so that I could get out.
Then came the menus and for what I assume was an attempt at authenticity, they were in Mexican-SPANISH! WHATEVER THEYRE THE SAME THING! I wasn’t sure what I wanted but considering that all Mexican foods are made up of beans, rice, and cheese I just chose the closest thing to what Johnny Depp got in "once upon a time in Mexico". (Slow roasted pork with tequila and lime for those of you who are curious)
Anyways, after finishing dinner and a few Mexican beers, "Sol"? I walked in to the kitchen, killed the head chef, and went home.
Happy Birthday Micheal
Wait, wait, let me start again because it’s not fair I take out last night’s anger out on Taco Bell. You see, yesterday my cousin Michaels birthday so his girlfriend decided to throw him a surprise dinner at "chimichongas" which oddly enough ISNT a sushi place but is instead a Mexican restaurant and tequila bar. The cluttered environment and annoying salsa music was quick to aggravate my blood. I guess being plunged into this "delightful" culture was too much for my weak heart, for it stopped within the first four minutes and I had to be carried out of the resteraunt to try again.
Let me rewind a bit. I don’t HATE Mexican people by any means, I love western movies and chihuahuas; I just can’t handle the culture. I get anxious. It’s like putting a tiger in a fun house; you can’t be mad when I start biting people.
Anyways, as I walked in to the fiesta, for the second time, I swore to myself that if I saw a SINGLE sombrero, I was leaving. As my luck would have it, there WAS a guy wearing a sombrero, but he was selling oranges so I figured he was legit and let him go. I made my way to the table and took my seat.
Have you ever sat in a chair that you could have SWORN was tilted downwards? The way my seat was built was in such a way where if I relaxed the slightest bit, my underwear would ride up to my nipples. It was like something out of a Mexican SAW movie. This isn’t the worst part however. My seat was right directly in the middle of everyone else’s seat, against the wall, cut off by all the tables. What this meant was that if I wanted to go to the bathroom, I would have to pick the side of the table whose friendship I value least and ask them all to get up and shimmy down so that I could get out.
Then came the menus and for what I assume was an attempt at authenticity, they were in Mexican-SPANISH! WHATEVER THEYRE THE SAME THING! I wasn’t sure what I wanted but considering that all Mexican foods are made up of beans, rice, and cheese I just chose the closest thing to what Johnny Depp got in "once upon a time in Mexico". (Slow roasted pork with tequila and lime for those of you who are curious)
Anyways, after finishing dinner and a few Mexican beers, "Sol"? I walked in to the kitchen, killed the head chef, and went home.
Happy Birthday Micheal
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Abba
I swore i would use this long weekend to write a blog and i think i may just make it before any of you wake up.
The year is 2001 and im sitting in my grade five class. My teacher is Mr. Chiapetta, who is probably one of the strangest, if not most memorable, teachers ive ever had. If he wasnt making us run laps around the school for not finishing homework, he was lecturing us on the importance of drinking milk while doing push-ups, or lecturing us on the importance of doing push-ups while drinking milk. Either way, he was usually doing one of these things while telling us about the other. Always an interesting teacher, always had something cool to share with us. I would have never guessed that there would be consequences to his actions.
Im sitting in class and a glowing Mr. C. walks in to the class. Big smile on his face, happy to announce that he has just purchased the new "abba's greatest hits" album. Without a moments hesitation, he drops it in the cd player and gets to playing the music. Now, at this age, my preference in music was about as narrow as it was in fine wine and cheeses, so i wasnt about to reject my teachers choice in music like most of YOU would today. He plays the cd and likes it SO much that he plays it again. For the rest of this year, i was doomed to hear the same songs over and over again until the end of the year. Brutal...wasnt exactly singing along. After a while i started hearing just white noise. eventualy the year came to an end and i was free from abba.
Fast forward a few years and im just getting hired as an employee at a zellars. Walking around the store i find myself mouthing the words to the song playing through out the store. "What song is this and why do i know the words?", i wonder. Turns out, after a bit of research, it was ABBA. After having heard the same songs OVER and OVER again in grade five, the lyrics to "mamma mia" and "fernando" were engraved in to my memory. Never to be forgotten. After all these years, i STILL know all the words off by heart...and i LOVE IT!
Fuck it. Its late and this blog is dragging on. In conclusion, abba is off the hook. Now heres a bit from and msn conversation i had with a friend that inspired this blog.
Alex:tell me right now you dont listen to abba
Shannon:i dont, eww
Alex:HA, are you kiddig me?
Shannon:why would i listen to abba
Alex:cause they FUCKIN ROCK
Shannon:did you see mama mia
Alex:no, but i think i just might
Shannon:well thats all abba, so you'd like it
Alex:DUH. i think it was forced on me though and this repressed love for
abba just released now
Shannon:ahhaha
Alex:see, my gr 5 teacher was this cool italian guy and he had picked up the abba cd, im guessing at a concert. anyways, he would play it, all day, every day, to the point where now when im working and they play
abba over the pa, i know the words and i cant remember why
Shannon:LOL
Alex:omg i think i just thought of my next blog...thanks shannon
Shannon:an abba blog....thats social suicide
Alex:thats ok. i dont think anybody knows about my blog anyways...oh god! what if they open it for the first time and see abba..i need a different title
Shannon:call it baab
Alex:HAHA
Shannon:i was gunna say it backwards...butttttt
Alex:HAHAHAHHAHA
The year is 2001 and im sitting in my grade five class. My teacher is Mr. Chiapetta, who is probably one of the strangest, if not most memorable, teachers ive ever had. If he wasnt making us run laps around the school for not finishing homework, he was lecturing us on the importance of drinking milk while doing push-ups, or lecturing us on the importance of doing push-ups while drinking milk. Either way, he was usually doing one of these things while telling us about the other. Always an interesting teacher, always had something cool to share with us. I would have never guessed that there would be consequences to his actions.
Im sitting in class and a glowing Mr. C. walks in to the class. Big smile on his face, happy to announce that he has just purchased the new "abba's greatest hits" album. Without a moments hesitation, he drops it in the cd player and gets to playing the music. Now, at this age, my preference in music was about as narrow as it was in fine wine and cheeses, so i wasnt about to reject my teachers choice in music like most of YOU would today. He plays the cd and likes it SO much that he plays it again. For the rest of this year, i was doomed to hear the same songs over and over again until the end of the year. Brutal...wasnt exactly singing along. After a while i started hearing just white noise. eventualy the year came to an end and i was free from abba.
Fast forward a few years and im just getting hired as an employee at a zellars. Walking around the store i find myself mouthing the words to the song playing through out the store. "What song is this and why do i know the words?", i wonder. Turns out, after a bit of research, it was ABBA. After having heard the same songs OVER and OVER again in grade five, the lyrics to "mamma mia" and "fernando" were engraved in to my memory. Never to be forgotten. After all these years, i STILL know all the words off by heart...and i LOVE IT!
Fuck it. Its late and this blog is dragging on. In conclusion, abba is off the hook. Now heres a bit from and msn conversation i had with a friend that inspired this blog.
Alex:tell me right now you dont listen to abba
Shannon:i dont, eww
Alex:HA, are you kiddig me?
Shannon:why would i listen to abba
Alex:cause they FUCKIN ROCK
Shannon:did you see mama mia
Alex:no, but i think i just might
Shannon:well thats all abba, so you'd like it
Alex:DUH. i think it was forced on me though and this repressed love for
abba just released now
Shannon:ahhaha
Alex:see, my gr 5 teacher was this cool italian guy and he had picked up the abba cd, im guessing at a concert. anyways, he would play it, all day, every day, to the point where now when im working and they play
abba over the pa, i know the words and i cant remember why
Shannon:LOL
Alex:omg i think i just thought of my next blog...thanks shannon
Shannon:an abba blog....thats social suicide
Alex:thats ok. i dont think anybody knows about my blog anyways...oh god! what if they open it for the first time and see abba..i need a different title
Shannon:call it baab
Alex:HAHA
Shannon:i was gunna say it backwards...butttttt
Alex:HAHAHAHHAHA
Monday, January 25, 2010
love junkie
its when i have pressing assignments due that i decide i have the patience to sit and write another blog...
i really need to get back on top of things. when was my last blog? last year? fuuuck...anyways thats enough of that. lets get crackin'.
i find myself in an outlet mall just south of the border in buffalo this depressing sunday morning. having forgotten all of my machine guns at home, rampaging is out of the question no matter how bored i get. So, im stuck here in this purgatory of a mall with only one thing on my mind. i think this is good. though i dont believe in fate too much, i believe its fate that dragged me out of bed and brought me here, almost as a time out, so that i could get my thoughts straight. so while my sisters and mother shop for their bootlegged goods, i have this time to think. think about things like life..and death...and how much of a tool i am for things ive done. not many people are handed something as perfect as what i was and can manage to fuck it up as bad as i did.most people would have taken my situation and ran with it. just let it be. but no, instead I just question the shit out of it until it just breaks under the weight of my uncertainty.
put on the brakes, drop the anchor, and deploy the parachute. do whatever i can to slow this mother fucker down cause life is just moving way too fast for me. love? get the fuck outta here..love? The concept of love has come a long way in the past few months. i still see it as a childish fantasy that people like to take part in. Its like seeing a movie and trying to mimic it for fun. its a "rush", a "fetish". its a term we unknowingly use to refer to the chemical reaction that takes place in our brain when we see something we want to get naked with...and yet...if you let it sweep you off your feet...you can really go places. i tried avoiding it, i really did. i tried shoo-ing it away, i tried spraying it with reality water..but it just kept finding a way back to me. it got my cell number..mailing address..email..and now im concerned i may have lost my head and accidentally swatted it to death. and what do you do when you think you may have murdered something you love? not much you can do. just sit..wait to here back from the doctors and let the guilt boil inside of you. and in the mean time, learn.
its tough. I know, and so do you. love gets in the way. some people give in to it and some people deny it. i find myself wishing i had handled my pest problem better.but like i said its tough. how do you write the essay of life when you have loves hummingbird hovering around your head distracting you. its aroma gets so strong to the point where you lose your mind, and you either fly away with it..or hold its head under the waters of rationality until you realize that now, you dont have anything anymore. and what was once a humming distraction is now an erie silence...and you would give anything to be distracted again because the silence you once strived to achieve has now just become their void that nobody can fill. so call my phone, write me letters, throw rocks at my window. DISTRACT ME from this life..cause without the distractions.. i dont want to live it.
i really need to get back on top of things. when was my last blog? last year? fuuuck...anyways thats enough of that. lets get crackin'.
i find myself in an outlet mall just south of the border in buffalo this depressing sunday morning. having forgotten all of my machine guns at home, rampaging is out of the question no matter how bored i get. So, im stuck here in this purgatory of a mall with only one thing on my mind. i think this is good. though i dont believe in fate too much, i believe its fate that dragged me out of bed and brought me here, almost as a time out, so that i could get my thoughts straight. so while my sisters and mother shop for their bootlegged goods, i have this time to think. think about things like life..and death...and how much of a tool i am for things ive done. not many people are handed something as perfect as what i was and can manage to fuck it up as bad as i did.most people would have taken my situation and ran with it. just let it be. but no, instead I just question the shit out of it until it just breaks under the weight of my uncertainty.
put on the brakes, drop the anchor, and deploy the parachute. do whatever i can to slow this mother fucker down cause life is just moving way too fast for me. love? get the fuck outta here..love? The concept of love has come a long way in the past few months. i still see it as a childish fantasy that people like to take part in. Its like seeing a movie and trying to mimic it for fun. its a "rush", a "fetish". its a term we unknowingly use to refer to the chemical reaction that takes place in our brain when we see something we want to get naked with...and yet...if you let it sweep you off your feet...you can really go places. i tried avoiding it, i really did. i tried shoo-ing it away, i tried spraying it with reality water..but it just kept finding a way back to me. it got my cell number..mailing address..email..and now im concerned i may have lost my head and accidentally swatted it to death. and what do you do when you think you may have murdered something you love? not much you can do. just sit..wait to here back from the doctors and let the guilt boil inside of you. and in the mean time, learn.
its tough. I know, and so do you. love gets in the way. some people give in to it and some people deny it. i find myself wishing i had handled my pest problem better.but like i said its tough. how do you write the essay of life when you have loves hummingbird hovering around your head distracting you. its aroma gets so strong to the point where you lose your mind, and you either fly away with it..or hold its head under the waters of rationality until you realize that now, you dont have anything anymore. and what was once a humming distraction is now an erie silence...and you would give anything to be distracted again because the silence you once strived to achieve has now just become their void that nobody can fill. so call my phone, write me letters, throw rocks at my window. DISTRACT ME from this life..cause without the distractions.. i dont want to live it.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Happy
I’ve put out a lot of deep down, confession and emotion which I’m sure all three of my followers are sick of, so I’m happy to inform you guys that this is probably the last one for a while.
These past few months have been an extraordinary high in my life, whose remnants will hang over my head for the next few months to come. My eyes are tired from all the sleepless nights and my ears will thank me for the break I’m about to give them from Dido and Slipknot. A little "power metal rehabilitation" will pick me right up. I guess that’s where Francesco comes in. Those high notes and endless riffs will recalibrate this mind of mush I now possess. But first, I think I’m going to need a week or two to reflect on what happened. It all happened so fast. Gotta go through and think about what I did right, what I did wrong, what I should have done, and what I shouldn’t have ingested.
Giving a rats ass about anything in this world is a gamble, in that it’s not in any way up to you how this thing will behave. Like a hamster that has a sexual attraction to electrical outlets, whether or not you care doesn’t affect what it does. If it doesn’t die or get its little hamster balls electrocuted, all's well, but if it does happen to get freaky with its 110v seductress and, in turn, explode, then you’re out one hamster and probably fucked the rest of the block out of power for a few hours. This is the chance we take when we care about someone. Personally, I prefer the life of an anti social cynic. Don’t get attached, don’t get your hopes up, and you can’t be disappointed. Stay absolutely neutral about everything and you won’t have any problems.
But with THAT argument follows the ever predictable "Better to have loved and lost" argument. My rebuttal to this argument is "fuck love". There is no happiness in the world, only functionality. You work, stimulate the economy, and multiply. "Happy" is a high you feel when you get what you want. Give it a few hundred years, you'll see. Society will become strict. It will be used against us, just like Huxley said. If your needed, then you do what your needed for, otherwise, sex and drugs. What’s the difference between being happy with someone else and being happy and high off your ass on cocaine? People die drugged out all the time in hospitals.
Stop, stop...I don’t like where this is going. Moar about hamster I have been instructed.
Where did we leave off...ah yes. Hamster puts reproductive organ in something electrifying and dangerous. Then the hamster’s family and friends step in and for its own protection advice the hamster not to get too attached. Then the day finally comes when child proof covers are put over the outlets to prevent the hamster from getting it on with the plug anymore. The hamster is heartbroken and understands that it was for the best...maybe the hamster and the outlet should have just been friends...I mean, there’s a very good chance that eventually the hamster can get its feelings in check and be trusted enough to have the protective covers removed so that they can be friends. But still, there is a good chunk of the hamsters heart missing. Not easy to love something and let it go. So the hamster would then go to its hamster friend ham-cesco so that ham-cesco could cheer it up with some hamster metal. After a few hours of hamsterforce the hamster is fine and back on its feet. It goes back to the anti social hamster it once was and...is warm in its self loathing and bitterness towards the world. Thats ok though because thats who the hamster IS. Perhaps the hamster and ham-cesco can both go out to mc’hamsters for some pellet pie mc’flurries with the outlet when the outlet visits. Afterwards they can watch hamsterblanca and......
....I feel better....
These past few months have been an extraordinary high in my life, whose remnants will hang over my head for the next few months to come. My eyes are tired from all the sleepless nights and my ears will thank me for the break I’m about to give them from Dido and Slipknot. A little "power metal rehabilitation" will pick me right up. I guess that’s where Francesco comes in. Those high notes and endless riffs will recalibrate this mind of mush I now possess. But first, I think I’m going to need a week or two to reflect on what happened. It all happened so fast. Gotta go through and think about what I did right, what I did wrong, what I should have done, and what I shouldn’t have ingested.
Giving a rats ass about anything in this world is a gamble, in that it’s not in any way up to you how this thing will behave. Like a hamster that has a sexual attraction to electrical outlets, whether or not you care doesn’t affect what it does. If it doesn’t die or get its little hamster balls electrocuted, all's well, but if it does happen to get freaky with its 110v seductress and, in turn, explode, then you’re out one hamster and probably fucked the rest of the block out of power for a few hours. This is the chance we take when we care about someone. Personally, I prefer the life of an anti social cynic. Don’t get attached, don’t get your hopes up, and you can’t be disappointed. Stay absolutely neutral about everything and you won’t have any problems.
But with THAT argument follows the ever predictable "Better to have loved and lost" argument. My rebuttal to this argument is "fuck love". There is no happiness in the world, only functionality. You work, stimulate the economy, and multiply. "Happy" is a high you feel when you get what you want. Give it a few hundred years, you'll see. Society will become strict. It will be used against us, just like Huxley said. If your needed, then you do what your needed for, otherwise, sex and drugs. What’s the difference between being happy with someone else and being happy and high off your ass on cocaine? People die drugged out all the time in hospitals.
Stop, stop...I don’t like where this is going. Moar about hamster I have been instructed.
Where did we leave off...ah yes. Hamster puts reproductive organ in something electrifying and dangerous. Then the hamster’s family and friends step in and for its own protection advice the hamster not to get too attached. Then the day finally comes when child proof covers are put over the outlets to prevent the hamster from getting it on with the plug anymore. The hamster is heartbroken and understands that it was for the best...maybe the hamster and the outlet should have just been friends...I mean, there’s a very good chance that eventually the hamster can get its feelings in check and be trusted enough to have the protective covers removed so that they can be friends. But still, there is a good chunk of the hamsters heart missing. Not easy to love something and let it go. So the hamster would then go to its hamster friend ham-cesco so that ham-cesco could cheer it up with some hamster metal. After a few hours of hamsterforce the hamster is fine and back on its feet. It goes back to the anti social hamster it once was and...is warm in its self loathing and bitterness towards the world. Thats ok though because thats who the hamster IS. Perhaps the hamster and ham-cesco can both go out to mc’hamsters for some pellet pie mc’flurries with the outlet when the outlet visits. Afterwards they can watch hamsterblanca and......
....I feel better....
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Symphony of Destruction
So I just got back from the Toronto symphony orchestra playing Shostakovich’s symphony #5...and all I can say about my first symphony is...why are we going to the movies more often than the symphony?!
The amount of power in the performance I just saw was amazing. True revolution music. I mean this music was MOVING. It’s like these people are like the military of music. They play all together and in sync like rhythmic marching, except instead of marching their fingers dance on the necks of their violins and cellos. All in uniform and at the exact same places. It was so perfect, as though the music wasn’t coming from the musicians but instead I was watching the world’s largest game of multiplayer guitar hero and they were all too scared of each other to screw up. But it WAS them and THEM were amazing. They painted the air with the message being driven across by Shostakovich himself. Truly a product of the Russia it was born in to because when they are playing, they can manipulate the density of the air you breathe if they want to. At one point I was paralyzed at their command, waiting to see what their next note was going to be (which sucked cause I had an itch I really needed to scratch). If they wished it, they could make your every breath drive you to stand up and revolt. REVOLT! And revolt I did! To the nearest authority figure I could find. So right when the music reached its peak I reached mine. I stood up, out of my seat and jumped on stage. Chest out! Fist on my chest! And a look in my eye that said I am inspired! I am a man! And I HAVE A DREAM!
I was escorted out of the hall but this isn’t without its lesson. I am still inspired, and I will put this passion towards becoming the best piano player this world has seen.
But I also just got fallout 3 though so I think I’ll just do that.
The amount of power in the performance I just saw was amazing. True revolution music. I mean this music was MOVING. It’s like these people are like the military of music. They play all together and in sync like rhythmic marching, except instead of marching their fingers dance on the necks of their violins and cellos. All in uniform and at the exact same places. It was so perfect, as though the music wasn’t coming from the musicians but instead I was watching the world’s largest game of multiplayer guitar hero and they were all too scared of each other to screw up. But it WAS them and THEM were amazing. They painted the air with the message being driven across by Shostakovich himself. Truly a product of the Russia it was born in to because when they are playing, they can manipulate the density of the air you breathe if they want to. At one point I was paralyzed at their command, waiting to see what their next note was going to be (which sucked cause I had an itch I really needed to scratch). If they wished it, they could make your every breath drive you to stand up and revolt. REVOLT! And revolt I did! To the nearest authority figure I could find. So right when the music reached its peak I reached mine. I stood up, out of my seat and jumped on stage. Chest out! Fist on my chest! And a look in my eye that said I am inspired! I am a man! And I HAVE A DREAM!
I was escorted out of the hall but this isn’t without its lesson. I am still inspired, and I will put this passion towards becoming the best piano player this world has seen.
But I also just got fallout 3 though so I think I’ll just do that.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
A thought that has lingered in my head for some time…
Our desire to give in to temptation is officially too great to overcome even for our own good. I haven’t written a blog in a while because I haven’t had anything good to say for a while. My life has been polluted with bad news and sorrow. People giving themselves up to petty temptations and animalistic impulses, and for what? Why bother holding on to the hope that we can be anything more than just animals that walk up right and wear clothes. We know what we want to do. We want to mate, eat, and sleep. Its all we are and all we can be.
I was almost loved but it turns out simple pleasure wins in the fight for love. Its our weakness that we cant understand. Like a drug. We know what we should do and we know what’s right….but we always know what we want as well, and nobody can deny that. There is no overcoming it.
Speak for yourself you say? No. Im speaking for everyone because anyone can deviate from the path they’re on. We are walking a tight rope over an abyss that is every easy way out, cut corner, sin, temptation, shortcut, and detour we’ve ever wanted to take. Just waiting for an excuse to fall. I’ve seen it; better people than you could imagine, beautiful people, giving their lives up to stupid choices.
This is dumb, I’ve known this all along. Its not that this is a new thought to me, I just keep falling in to delusion when I think that there is a chance at finding something better. Maybe Aldous Huxley was on to something. Maybe were all soma junkies just waiting for a good enough excuse to fall off the wagon. Maybe something bad enough can happen to anyone to send them spiraling downwards into an endless pattern of self destructive behavior. Its always easier to say “im broken and not worth fixing” then it is to actually try, right? But even if this is the case I still refuse to become something ive hated for so long. Its like when Johnny said to pony boy “stay golden ponyboy, stay golden.” We all come in to this world golden and to me, that’s something worth fighting for. And even if we do have some dirt on us here and there, it doesn’t mean we should just give up all together. Its like I always say “to the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.” Hopefully some of us find that one person, because that seems like a good enough reason to stay gold to me.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Think Different?
I regret to inform you, the readers, that I am writing this blog on an apple. Yes, it seems not only were there no computers around, but no papers either so, I am writing this on an apple. Luckily it is a green apple so the writing is easy to see. Now it is only a matter of time before I come across a computer and can properly type this up so as to convey it to you.
I regret to inform you, the readers, that I am writing this blog on an apple computer. Yes, it seems not only were there no pc's around, but no bananas either because I would sooner transfer this message from an apple to a banana than from one apple to another. At least the banana peel wont crash if I try to read it.
Yes it seems that my co-op placement operates entirely on Macs, and I must hand it to them, they are good at making me look like I have never used a computer before. But I realized something about Macs too. Remember when Hitler tried to kill all of the Jews and, in turn, everyone else until nobody but the Germans was left? Yea, sound familiar doesn't it.
Yes it seems our friendly neighborhood apple store is nothing more than a concentration camp for competing electronics brands. Apple computers and hardware all together is 1st party, pure bread, apple electronics. No conflict and no fuss. Everything fits together so seamlessly and with out hesitation because they all have the same maker. No room for Jew-, sorry, MICROSOFT brand keyboards, oh no. that just won’t do.
now, I'm not saying by ANY means that Steve jobs is a racist or some kind of reincarnation of Hitler...though...I should look that up. All I'm saying is that in a world as diverse as ours there should me MANY brands of computer, mp3 player, and cell phone. I mean, look how far and high apples reputation has climbed in such little time. It used to take DECADES for companies to earn the trust of the people and NOW we are willing to get attached to anything that lets us touch their screen. I for one won’t stand for it.
Yes it seems Alex has come to another crossroads in his life. He must, AGAIN, purchase an mp3 player. This time, though, he's going for the big leagues. 120 Gigabyte hard-drive at LEAST. Of course Ipod is the first thing that comes to mind, and also LEAVES my mind. I refuse to suckle at the dried out tit of Steve jobs. Up until now it was between the ipod and the zune ONLY because they were the only two that could even compare to one another, but I’ve decided against the ipod for a riskier approach. Say what you will but I want to stand out from the crowd. I can think. I NOTICE that there is an IPOD section and an MP3 section at the store. WHY!?! THIS IS SEGREGATION ALL OVER AGAIN! No, I think ill chance it with the zune. Everywhere I turn there are people forgiving and compromising for apple electronics. Who could stay mad at such a nice, clean, white mp3 player or computer? But I want everyone to know that in the future, if apples slogan becomes "WHITE POWER" I called it!
I regret to inform you, the readers, that I am writing this blog on an apple computer. Yes, it seems not only were there no pc's around, but no bananas either because I would sooner transfer this message from an apple to a banana than from one apple to another. At least the banana peel wont crash if I try to read it.
Yes it seems that my co-op placement operates entirely on Macs, and I must hand it to them, they are good at making me look like I have never used a computer before. But I realized something about Macs too. Remember when Hitler tried to kill all of the Jews and, in turn, everyone else until nobody but the Germans was left? Yea, sound familiar doesn't it.
Yes it seems our friendly neighborhood apple store is nothing more than a concentration camp for competing electronics brands. Apple computers and hardware all together is 1st party, pure bread, apple electronics. No conflict and no fuss. Everything fits together so seamlessly and with out hesitation because they all have the same maker. No room for Jew-, sorry, MICROSOFT brand keyboards, oh no. that just won’t do.
now, I'm not saying by ANY means that Steve jobs is a racist or some kind of reincarnation of Hitler...though...I should look that up. All I'm saying is that in a world as diverse as ours there should me MANY brands of computer, mp3 player, and cell phone. I mean, look how far and high apples reputation has climbed in such little time. It used to take DECADES for companies to earn the trust of the people and NOW we are willing to get attached to anything that lets us touch their screen. I for one won’t stand for it.
Yes it seems Alex has come to another crossroads in his life. He must, AGAIN, purchase an mp3 player. This time, though, he's going for the big leagues. 120 Gigabyte hard-drive at LEAST. Of course Ipod is the first thing that comes to mind, and also LEAVES my mind. I refuse to suckle at the dried out tit of Steve jobs. Up until now it was between the ipod and the zune ONLY because they were the only two that could even compare to one another, but I’ve decided against the ipod for a riskier approach. Say what you will but I want to stand out from the crowd. I can think. I NOTICE that there is an IPOD section and an MP3 section at the store. WHY!?! THIS IS SEGREGATION ALL OVER AGAIN! No, I think ill chance it with the zune. Everywhere I turn there are people forgiving and compromising for apple electronics. Who could stay mad at such a nice, clean, white mp3 player or computer? But I want everyone to know that in the future, if apples slogan becomes "WHITE POWER" I called it!
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