Balint

Whenever I take a trip to my hometown, at the end of the stay I always find myself on the highway singing Podunk by the Foo Fighters. Terrible fucking song, and I bet 99.99% of the world has never heard it. Even fans of the band. And that's because it's only found on a few rare albums, one of which is the most prized CD in my whole collection, The Demo Tape.


Pretty much the main reason I wanna get a bulldog someday.
I'm gonna name him Clint.
And I'm gonna get a cat and name him Flicker.

Great names for animals.
And only the wittiest of people and most observant veterinarians will get the joke.

Anyway, I made an impromptu trip back to Barrie this weekend, and I had such a great time I didn't bother sticking around for more than one night. Hence, I'm back in London already on the long weekend.
I got together with a few friends and did a couple of things, but besides those positives I had absolutely no motivation to stick around. Some fat plug got all pissed last night at a bar because one of our chairs at the table was in his way, and we were only saved from a brawl by our new friend who was dubbed "Vesty". That's the kind of jerkoff you find in Barrie all the time - a fat guy who can't squeeze his gut into the ample space he had, so he resorts to violence instantly. Classy people up there, let me tell ya.

Next weekend a bunch of the St Catharines crew is heading up to the cottage for some good times and boozing. I'm really looking forward to it.

Plus I get my eye exam on Friday, so I can finally get new glasses. Not that my eyes have changed all that much, I just can't stand the ones I have now.

Never get transitions. Terrible fuckin things...