You'll be dead alot longer than you'll be alive

I haven't written lately, and I'm feeling kinda shitty right now, so I'll just copy this post from something I wrote a while back. Today in class Martin brought up "Captain Planet" which reminded me of this little bit of drunken rambling...

Feb. 7, 05

Think of all the times you’ve given up on someone. What if you gave up too early? I bet a lot of ex-girlfriends of rock stars have said that. “If only I had stayed with that guy!” Well shut the fuck up. Apparently you have no judgement of what could be great and what won’t be great. Shit is what it is. There’s no hope for anything but that.
So let’s say I grew up and got me a trophy wife and had the millions. I hope you’re sad you passed me by. Living in a life that you claim makes you happy, but really you wish you’d fucked me back in college and you were with me now.
That’s you and me in 20 years, if we both make it that far. And if not, who’s to say we were right to give up on each other? A great man once said, “you’ll be dead for a lot longer than you’ll be alive” and I take that to heart. I hope you do too. With all that free time you’ll be able to reflect on how badly you handled things back in the living world. Taking shit for granted and living for yourself.
Maybe there is no heaven or hell, just a period of reflection. Those who lived well will see it all as it was, and those who didn’t will see the world they created. Maybe that’s hell. Who knows. Everyone’s own revelation once the truth is revealed. Maybe that defines heaven and hell for the dead. So the damned have to suffer that, as the holy sit there and eat chips with that dip that has salsa and sour cream and cheese in it. Sittin there watchin the shows that made a difference on TV. Like Call of Duty and the Smurfs, and maybe even Captain Planet. After all, he is a hero. Saving the world and shit. Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, and don’t forget Heart. Most important of all is Heart.

I can't say I really wrote that for anyone in particular. At least it's entertaining, even to me today. Off to sleep I go...

Twenty Dollars

Tonight I ran home from the campus bar. My friends laughed. But tonight I pledge $20 to Amnesty International for the fight for human rights. Fuck another beer, fuck the cab ride home.

I'd rather walk.

The cure for cankers (I'm still working on cancer)

Last week my stomache gave me hell. I don't really even know why. It started Wednesday morning and lasted pretty well through most of Saturday. I bet I had 2 solid meals in that time, mostly I just had a few snacks if I could force me down. I didn't drink much on St. Patty's day, but if you read my last post, maybe it was a good thing. I eventually had a drunken night on Saturday, followed by some delicious Stobies pizza. I hear Gow woke up with BBQ sauce all over his face the next morning. Who puts that crap on pizza anyway? I crashed in James' bed for the night, and since then I've been fairly unproductive. New topic...

About 2 weeks ago I woke up one morning with my lips stuck together, right in the middle. Naturally I wrenched them apart, only to find that I had actually cut my upper lip pretty good in doing so. And for about a week my damn lip hurt like hell. It kept me away at night and distracted me alot as I tried to study for exams. But once Sunday hit, I found the cure. The cure is known as beer. For quite some time I have advocated the benefits of beer for curing canker sores, but the lip healing was a pleasant surprise. So if ever you have a canker, drink a dozen beers and wake up cured! That is, if you can make it to 12... some lightweights may have trouble with that. But for the girls out there who dont like beer, I doubt your sugarry drinks would work in this way, so don't blam me if you fail miserably.

Onto another random topic. I have been frustrated with my sleeping as of late. I find that I'm tired as hell around 11, but I always have something to do that requires me to stay up an extra hour or so. And by the time 1 a.m. rolls around I'm wide awake. So I usually get to bed around 2 or 3, yet most of my classes aren't until noon, which is fortunate. Still, I find a way to fall behind on my work that required me to stay up in the first place. I usually just say "fuck it" and browse the news websites and see whats on eBay.

Speaking of news, I've been surprised at the lack of coverage of the asian earthquake the other day, as well as the school shooting that happened just today in the US. And don't get me started on the way the media has fallen away from the increasing violence in Iraq since the election. No wonder W wanted to get that election over with. Now he can fabricate news and sell it to the masses like it's candy. And as I complain about the limited coverage of these things, just think of the complete lack of coverage on so many other fronts. It's mind-boggling. That said, I'm tired and need to be up earlier than usual.

St. Patrick's Day, 2005

I had this vision. I was on the ground, bruised an broken, in the middle of some poorly lit parking lot in east London. The kind of place we normal people never visit. Kate was still in the cab, screaming at the driver to turn back as he sped away. And as I lay there one thought ran through my mind... "at least Katie's alright".

Now allow me to lay the background for this story. Tonight was the big St. Patrick's Day party, but oddly enough I wasn't in the mood for an incoherently drunken night. Maybe it was because of the mess I had made of myself Tuesday, or maybe it was due to the fact that I ate the equivalent of two slices of pizza all day. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to get really drunk.
I had my eye on my friend Katie Mac all night long, but I never got overly concerned until the end of the night. She had far too much to drink, and started hanging off some guy that noone else knew. Apparently she knew this guy from back home, but nobody else had any clue who he was, or what he was like.

Fortunately my friend Kate stayed relatively sober tonight, and when she said she had grown tired of the bar, I suggested we take off (with Katie in tow). After a struggle we managed to get Katie's coat from the coat-check and get her moving outside. Like a normal drunk, she turned her body into a limp pile of flesh for us to carry out the door. Once outside we piled into a cab, Kate, Katie, and I, along with this guy Katie knows and a friend of his.

As the cab started off towards the boys' place (in hindsight we should've told the cabbie to take us home first, but then again we had no idea where these guys lived) Kate and I started to get a little nervous. We drove far past our usual limits and eventually found oursleves stopped between two appartment buildings on the outer limits of town. My little vision came over me on this trip out to the guys' place.

I imagined the guys taking Katie out of the cab and back into their place. Needless to say, I wasn't gonna let that happen. No matter how you slice it, consent was nowhere to be found. And with a girl that drunk, I could only imagine what would've happened. Fortunately Kate didn't give the guys a chance, as she slammed the door immediately once they had gotten out. And after a long and pricy cab ride home, we made sure Katie was safe in bed.

Oddly enough, I wouldn't have been so upset if my vision had come true. Surely I don't desire to have the shit beaten out of me, but maybe if it had happened, a few people would've learned a few things about me. Actions have always spoken louder than words, but then again, how often do we get to put our truths into action?

I'm still half drunk. Goodnight all.

Foot In Mouth Disease

Last night started with me drinking 95% of a 26er of rum as a predrink. Then a big group of us headed to the Ceeps for more drinking, and apparently I made an ass of myself, but the comical value of my actions must have been enough of a stop-gap from me losing any respect from my friends. I only remember two things from the bar: taking a horrible shot in pool, and puking my brains out while standing up in a bathroom stall.
This talk of "not losing respect from friends" came to a crashing halt when I got home however. It just so happened that everyone of my roommates was sober, and I was drunk as a fuckin' skunk. Then came my notorious words of honesty, which never fail me when I'm hammered.
I don't know how it all began, I don't know who said what, but I do know I said alot of things I was saving for another day. It was as if I had compiled a huge list of all the things I wanted to say to people, and they all just tumbled out of my mouth last night. Needless to say, I bet those words would've meant a hell of alot more, had I been sober when I said them.
So today consisted of me waking up at 3 and wasting an entire day away. I had alot to do, and accomplished nothing. I just sat around all day, my mind running on that wheel in my head, thinking "what the fuck am I doing with my life". And I couldn't find an answer, so I kept running, getting nowhere.
And now it's closing in on 2 a.m. and another day of boozing awaits, since it's St. Patty's day. I can only imagine how things might end up tonight, though it's almost comforting to know that I'm empty of ammunition in my head.
That said, I really can't think of anything more to say for now. I'm just feelin empty and down at the moment. Time for sleep, I just hope the wheel behind my eyes stops sqeaking soon.

Sleepless in London

Sunday marked the end of a very long two weeks. I'm finally done midterms, and there's not going to be alot of work in the next month for me, which is nice for once. We celbrated last night down at the Ceeps and Molly's, and despite drinking roughly 16 beers and a redbull and vodka I felt sober for most of the night. My hangover today proved me wrong, turns out I got pretty drunk.
Tonight I'm feeling restless as hell. It's 2:30 and I just can't get to sleep for some reason. I can't even count the number of freecell games I've played tonight. All this free time has left me bored stupid, maybe my mind is still in the mode of constant studying and being occupied with schoolwork.
I heard some new songs today by a few different bands. A guy named Matthew Barber popped up on a music site and I checked him out. And another band I found today sounds like they've got a ton of potential. The band's called Hedley, and I heard of them a while back from Findlay's work at that Canadian Music Week thing in Toronto. I'm still frustrated that I can't find anything about this band named Coping. They had an amazing song out a few years ago, I just can't remember the name of it. The band's website was up for awhile but recently shut down, so I don't even know if the band is still together. Hopefully I'll find their CD in Halifax wehn I go in the fall.
I'm at a loss for words of any consequence at the moment. Hopefully I can fall asleep soon.

This is the "1 in 100" for ya. 

International Women's Day

Today marked a day that I did my best to be gentlemanly, but I soon came to realize that:

A) I didn't act much differently than I do most days,
B) Nobody else seemed to notice, and
C) My female roomates still think I "hate women" for some reason.

Despite the biased views of some of my friends, I actually don't hate women. No more than I hate the average alarm clock in the morning... Some days they annoy the fuck out of you, some days they save your ass, and some days they're just fine the way they are. Alarm clocks do have one advantage however, which is labelled the "OFF" button. Just kidding.

I've had alot of criticism as of late for laughing when women get hurt (like that figure skater who whacked her head off the ice a while back), commenting on the pendulum of women rights having swung too far, and critcizing certain behaviours of girls around our fair city.
But the bottom line is, I laugh just as hard when men get hurt (if not harder, since men tend to do stupider things), I understand the reasons for, and motivations behind, women's rights movements, and I'd have to say that the guys around this town piss me off far more than the girls ever will.

But make no mistake, I "hate women". At least in the eyes of people who hold up those negative, irritatingly effective, constructs of who I am as a person. What I mean by this is simple: if you want to see things in a certain way, you will see them that way. Regardless of mounds of evidence to the contrary, that one anti-whatever joke out of the 100 other jokes becomes the focus of all attention. It's sad to watch people fall into this trap of believing what can almost certainly be called lies, and I do my best to avoid these constructs in my daily life.

I just think it would be nice if the rest of the world used a little objectivity once in awhile too.

First Post

So this is my first post on my brand spankin new "blog". Whatever the fuck that is.
With a little free time on my hands I'm gonna see what I can learn about this thing.

trial pic