Worth a laugh...

Dennis Leary has some competition on the claim to "Best Asshole Song"

Check out this video.

There's something so poetic about smashing a half-filled bottle of Jack Daniels Old No. 7, don't ya think??

Tonight Steve and I watched Cast Away on TV cuz it's exam season and we just said "no dice" to studying for the evening.
I've always liked that movie. Kinda long and boring in parts, but rarely does a movie put you in that place where you really say to yourself, "What the fuck would I do in his shoes?"

I find the survival stuff pretty cool; I think it would be neat to be stuck like that and have to make do with what you have. A rough life, but I'm sure it would have it's rewards. Like insanity and starvation and things like that!

But the more poignant part of the movie is the end, when he's finally discovered and has to re-enter society as a normal person after years of isolation.

So Steve-o and I started thinking to ourselves how tough that would be. Just imagine coming home to friends and family that had forgotten and buried you; to nonexistent bank accounts and no place to live; to all of the comforts of life like a warm bed and running water. The world would've gone forward as you had resorted to basic human drives like an animal, just to survive. Just imagine that devastation...


So here's my list, in order, of things I would do after 4 years of life on a solitary island:

as soon as I get rescued...

1) Have a 2 hour shower
2) Shave
3) Have a ridiculous feast of all the finest foods around
4) Get a haircut
5) Get laid by the first good-looking girl I see
6) Get totally wasted and smash a bottle of JD out of pure frustration

as soon as I get home...

7) Go to the girl I love and apologize for every last mistake I ever made... and hopefully get laid, or at least have a passionate make-out session
8) Go home to my family
9) Check out my grave and see what's engraved on my headstone
10) Discover that it reads, "Here lies Travis Brooke-Bisschop, Son, Brother, Drunkard, etc. etc..." "Beloved by ALL who were ever graced by his presence!"
11) Ridicule my brother for not insisting it read "Noticeable Minto" in addition to the aforementioned quote.
12) Listen to my favourite CDs for hours on end
13) Get ahold of all of my friends and throw a party in celebration of my return
14) Get totally wasted and smash a bottle of JD out of pure frustration (again)

boring things to follow...

15) Find an apartment and settle in (hopefully someone kept all of my shit in storage or something)
16) Get laid as much as possible
17) Get a job and struggle like crazy to pretend that I'm not totally warped from the whole experience

and last but not least...

18) NEVER take another day for granted

I'm sure there's a multitude of things I left out of that list, but at least it's a good start.

Get down with the sickness

Someday you are going to kill me, you fuckers.

Maybe not directly with a crafty murder or anything of the sort, but with the weapons you create that you can't even see. Of course, I'm talking about the viruses an bacteria and shit that you disease-ridden assholes are carrying around as we speak.

See, I got sick last weekend for all of a day and a half. And there's good reason I'm not still sick at this very moment; it's because my immune system is a well-oiled-machine and I
don't.
take.
drugs.
(medicinal drugs anyway)

As an interesting sidenote, I find that I can never feel the effects of caffeine in my body. I can feel alcohol, THC, nicotine, and the like, but for some reason coffee and Coke just don't affect me. It never seems to wake me up when I drink the shit; maybe I'm immune to it or something. Or maybe I'm just an idiot.

So back to the main point about medicine...
As most of my friends know, I am completely unable to swallow pills of any size or shape. I can swallow candy, or even a big chunk of ice if I wanted to, but not pills. I think my old man tried to force me once as a child and since then I've had a mental block or something. Thankfully I'm not a chick, cuz birth control pills would be of little use to me, and I'd likely be changing diapers in the middle of the night on a regular basis. Regardless, so long as I know it's a drug that isn't natural in my body, I won't be able to get it in my gullet without a fight. (i.e. mashing it up in apple sauce or something)

Come to think of it, in the past 10 years I bet I haven't taken a dozen Tylenols or Aspirins, and for my wisdom teeth I took liquid codeine for the ridiculous pain. Beyond those, and the occasional Neocitron in cold season, I don't take anything at all.
And for the better part of those 10 years I've been just fucking peachy.

Then we get to the average Joe, who doesn't necessarily pop pills for every little ailment, but still uses them. (You're probably an average Joe)
I'm willing to bet that you get more headaches than I do, and not cuz you're prone to them naturally. I bet your aches and pains are worse than mine, even with the same injuries inflicted. And I bet you've probably fucked up when using an antibiotic in your day - a dangerous thing to do.

There's a reason you're supposed to finish the bottle, not just quit taking the pills when you start feeling better. It's because if you don't kill every last one of the bastardly little mothers inside of you, they're gonna come back with stronger defenses the next time around.

See, if you let your body do its own thing, it's like taking your immune system to the gym on a regular basis and getting it good and powerful.
Taking drugs is like handing a skinny little white dude a gun and claiming that he's just as well off as the buff dude who happens to be a strong immune system.
But once the beanpole runs out of bullets, he's royally fucked. Slapping won't take down the enemy, especially an enemy that has taken a few bullets and lived to fight another day.


To quote George Carlin, "...and nevermind ordinary germs, what are you gonna do when some super-virus comes along that turns your vital organs into liquid shit? I'll tell you what you're gonna do... You're gonna get sick, you're gonna die, and you're gonna deserve it cuz you're fuckin' weak and you've got a fuckin' weak immune system!"

Well said Mr. Conductor, well said indeed.

And odds are that stronger bug is gonna come knocking on humanity's door ready to fuck some shit up. Even the immune system with moves as vicious as Steven Segal won't be able to compete. And we're gonna be fucked.

A few words come to mind... "Bird Flu", "SARS", "West Nile"
We're playing with blowtorches in a fireworks factory built on an oilfield.

And when I'm on my deathbed I'm gonna curse every last irresponsible and weak fucker who put me there.

Pricks.

I Miss New Wave

Nothing Lasts Forever Anymore

Ever thought of getting a tattoo? Gettin' ink yo? Burning some shitty image into your body for old time's sake?

Ya, me too.

The only thing I've ever considered getting put on me was a Canadian flag.


And I'm not exactly patriotic, or a mindless cheerleader or anything like that, but I am damn proud to be a Canadian in this world. Plus everyone loves Canada; the great arbitrator and peace-monger in times of war and trouble. Especially the Dutch. Mint you Holland, mint you.

But like most tattoos, it would likely end up being yet another regret to add to the list. When you're 43 years old and married to a boring husband or wife, looking down at your bellybutton to see the name Stacy or Tommy staring back at you just won't hold the same meaning as it did when you were 22... Back in the days when you could look past that tattoo and see the top of your lover's head busily moving around down there. God-damn those were the days!
Not anymore though. Passion gets sucked out of you as you get older. I dread that.

But when you have something on your body that you can't get off, there's definite potential for disaster in the future. Imagine a gang member who gets branded, but grows up to be a law-abiding citizen. Then one day his old rival group recognizes his marks and busts a cap in his ass. Hardly fair, don't ya think?

And the same thing could happen with our country someday. You never know what the future holds.

This election we had last week is a perfect example. Imagine Canada becomes the mutt on America's leash (moreso than we are now), and the rest of the world starts to hate us like they hate the States. Odds are we wouldn't be wearing our flag-labelled backpacks around the globe without fear anymore. A symbol that once elicited friendly smiles could soon lead to a gun being pointed in your face, depending on your choice of vaction spot.

And it's not out of the question by any means. Canada's new leader looks like a rapist on the prowl for his next victim. I find it very unsettling, as I imagine many other people do. And have you ever seen that mortherfucker smile? Yeah... yeah... neither have I.

I'd rather have Mike Ricci represent our country at global meetings. At least other world leaders would just say, "My God is he ugly!" rather than, "Tom, pack the kids into the minvan and take them to my sister's cottage in the North country until this Harper guy gets on the plane for home!"


















In all seriousness, I have real concerns about this new government. A few weeks back I stumbled upon an article in Now Magazine regarding the potential cabinet that the Tories will form. They described it in a single word: scary

To quote the staff of Now:

"Some of the names offered - Jim Flaherty, John Baird, and Carl DeFaria -are enough to turn off thousands of voters who remember what it was like to live under Mike Harris' vicious Nonsense Revolution.

Flaherty, whose record includes disparaging comments about the homeless and native people, was a dud as finance minister, inheriting a $1.9 billion surplus and leaving Ontarians with a $5.5 billion deficit.

Baird, who served as Community and Social Services Minister, was point man for the massive cuts to social services and drug testing for welfare recipients under Iron Mike.

DeFaria, meanwhile, is famous for issuing a pamphlet of Christmas songs to constituents in 2002 - as Citizen Minister, no less - that included Stephen Foster's Way Down Upon the Swanee River, which refers to black people as "darkies".

Ottawa-area Tory MP Gordon O'Connor, also mentioned as a possible cabinet minister, is a former paid lobbyist for the defence industry who has on at least two occasions publicly pushed military equipment of former clients. Let's hope he isn't bucking for Defence Minister."

The article continues, but I think that quote made the point. Granted, Now has a clear bias towards the left of the political spectrum, and exaggeration is inevitable. Don't believe everything that you read, kids. That might lead you to vote Conservative next time 'round. It's a shame so many people voted Right this time, but at least it's only a minority hold on the government.

The problem lies in the fact that Canada doesn't want to hear the word "election" again for a very long time. So we're gonna have to settle into blue and white for now. And I'm not talking about the Maple Leafs, they blow dead bears. Stupid hosers.



Moral of the story: Don't get a tattoo unless it's something neutral. Then again, someday your pretty little flower or butterfly might be your least favourite part of your body.

Probably not, I'm just talking out of my ass now.

Hali Trip

Two weeks ago today, I took off for a weekend in Halifax to visit a friend from who had transferred from Western out to Dal after 1st year.
I'd never been out east, and I figured that the start of the semester would be the best time, as to avoid exams and assignments.
As it turns out, it was the perfect weekend to go because the weather was so good. It only rained a bit on my last night in town. We even had one day of 10 degree weather with sunny skies. That kind of shit never happens in the middle of January in Halifax; they're usually digging cars out of 4 foot snowbanks.
So my worries of flight cancellations were put to rest with the good forecast. Not to say the flights weren't interesting themselves though. It was my first flight in about 5 years I guess, and the first plane I'd ever been on alone.



So I wrote this little bit of tripe on the outbound plane:

As the plane taxied down the runway today I had a strange feeling. It wasn't quite panic, but something close.
My feeling was more like worry, I suppose. And it's not that I have any fear of flying at all; I actually have fun during the turbulent parts (Unlike my candy-assed brother who draws nearer and nearer to puking with every little bump. Pussy). And I wasn't worried about crashing and dying either, as I'm not one to really fear death in the first place.
What worried me was the things I've never said and done in live, but should've.
All the people who mean the most to me, and all the assholes who mean the least; I worry that they have no idea what I truly think of them. If this plane were to crash in 5 minutes, I'd hate to think of all the time I had wasted in the past.
Honestly, how hard is it to write an email to an old friend to let them know you still care how things are going and what's new in their lives? And think of how easy it would be to tell off that annoying friend-of-a-friend you've always hated.


If only it was that easy.
Imagine that next Wednesday was "say everything day". A day that you just told everyone you know the complete and total truth of what you saw in them.
I'd wager a guess that you'd probably build a few bridges if you did that.
Then again, you'd probably also make a fair share of enemies.
Funny how we live, isn't it? Some days you feel like screaming from the rooftops, but just quietly walk down the streets. Afterall, that's what everyone expects of us in our day-to-day lives. Don't stir the pot.
But imagine if everyone did tell the truth, all of the time. It would be like that Seinfeld episode, but on a massive scale.
Or that part in Almost Famous when their airplane is about to crash and everyone's darkest secrets get blurted out. How strange it would be...
Alas, the pilot's told us to buckle up for a bumpy landing. Wish I had more time to write, but its time to lay down the pen.

That landing was bumpy as fuck, let me tell you. It was by far the most fun I've had on a plane. The thing was rotating on all axes as it came in lower to earth, mainly because of the strong wind on the ground. I bet the pilot helped out with the turbulence, trying to fuck with us. Hahahaha, those nutty fuckers. Anyway, it just seemed like we were a brick that was twisting and falling as it came down to the runway. Very entertaining.

That night, after getting settled in at Andrea's place, I went to her boyfriend Geoff's house for dinner. I met his roommates, all of whom play in a band, Geoff included. So they just jammed all around the house while Andrea and I were catching up with all the shit we've missed in the past few months. Geoff and I biked to the store for some beer, which we drank at his place. Andrea and I went back to her place for a little Family Guy, with bong in hand. There's some pretty ridiculous shit in that new season, especially if you're stoned out of your skull.

The next day I got up and went to a boring Science Writing Class with her, then we toured the campus and took a few pics. To me it was a foreign setup for a school, with houses right across the street from huge buildings on campus. The whole thing was much smaller than Western too, but I liked the atmosphere there.

Later that day Andrea and I wandered the streets of downtown, checking out music stores and other places of interest. I found a CD that I've been looking for for about 5 years, which was sweet. We ended up having a nice dinner at this wicked little pub. I wish I could remember the name of it, but it escapes me. Then we went home for another evening of drinking, followed by a trip out to a bar for the night.

The bar we went to was connected to a few other ones in a strange fashion, and we had to chill in this one little Cougar bar called "Cheers" until the "Attic" opened for the musical entertainment of the night. One of my highlights of the trip was hearing a local bar band play Outkast's "Hey Ya" in Cheers. It was so fucking East Coast style, which was funny as shit.

The main band we saw upstairs was called "Slowcoaster" and as far as I remember they were good. I gotta admit, I was pretty damn wasted that night. I even found myself on the dancefloor, which is a rarity. Geoff's roomie Dave and his girlfriend were dancing up a fucking storm, Dave in particular. That night we all crashed at Geoff's place after hitting up a pizza joint for some post-bar grub.

Saturday morning Geoff, Andrea and I all went down to the city market, which is right at the Keith's Brewery. It was a maze of undergound passages and rooms, but it was really cool. People were selling all kinds of stuff, and I got a famous cinnamon bun from the bakery. Unfortunately Andrea was hung over as shit, so we didn't stay for too long. That day was foggy as hell too, so I didn't get a chance to look across Halifax Harbour. Oh well.

We chilled at Andrea's place for the day, and went down to the Marquee to see Feist play. I wanted Andrea's roommate Erika to come (She was pretty cute and cool; real girlfriend material.), but she had other plans. I think about 7 or 8 of us went to the concert, but only Geoff had a ticket. So what he did was go into the place, come out with a stamp on his hand, and then we'd copy the stamp onto our hands with markers that his friend had. It worked like a charm, and we all got it. The show was pretty good, and I really liked the venue. We got drunk/stoned at the concert too, but not as bad as the previous night.

And the next day I packed up my shit and headed home. That was a damn long day of travels, and I was glad to be home in London to relax and recover.

All said it was a dynamite trip. I was glad all the plans went off without a hitch. The only thing I wish I did was hook up with Erika... hahaha

Better luck next time eh?

So this is the new year, and I don't feel any different

As strange as it may seem, it doesn't even feel like Christmas yet. Maybe it's all the warm eather we've been getting lately, but more than likely it's my mindset that's out of whack. It seems that every time Christmas rolls around it holds less and less meaning.

We just go throught the same old paces:
- see you family and exchange gifts for the sake of spending money on one another
- hang out with old friends while avoiding idiots from highschool
- booze through another overrated new year's party
- return to normal life with resolutions that last about a week and a half

But despite my disenchantment with the holiday season I was able to come up with a few things I'd like to strive for this year.

1) Never go to bed hungry - I hate that feeling, plus I could use a few lbs.

2) Commit more time to school work - the lazy days have gotta stop a.s.a.p.

3) Visit friends around town more often, and keep better contact with people at other schools - last year I was complete shit at keeping up with people ona regular basis.

4) Read some books to entertain, not just text books to learn shit from - my mind is full of too much science and I need some variety to stay sane.

5) Write more often - a number of people have told me I'm a good writer and they like reading my stuff, so why not do it more often? I have alot to say, and people should have the privledge of reading my shite.

That's all I can think of at the moment. Maybe I'll look back in December to see if I kept up with my goals. Time will tell I guess.

p.s. this was the most fucking boring post ever.

Bowl of Oranges

The rain, it started tapping on the window near my bed.
There was a loophole in my dreaming, so I got out of it.
And to my surprise my eyes were wide and already open.
Just my nightstand and my dresser where those nightmares had just been.
So I dressed myself and left then, out into the gray streets.
But everything seemed different and completely new to me.
The sky, the trees, houses, buildings, even my own body.
And each person I encountered, I couldn't wait to meet.

And I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
I said "There is nothing that I can do for you you can't do for yourself."
He said "Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that would help."
So I sat with him a while and then I asked him how he felt.
He said, "I think I'm cured. No, in fact, I'm sure of it.
Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile."

So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone.
And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow.
But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself.
It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or simple song of hope.
That is why I'm singing... Baby don't worry cause now I got your back.
And every time you feel like crying, I'm gonna try and make you laugh.
And if I can't, if it just hurts too bad, then we will wait for it to pass,
And I will keep you company through those days so long and black.

And we'll keep working on the problem we know we'll never solve,
Of Love's uneven remainders, our lives are fractions of a whole.
But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty. Then we would stand staring in awe,
At our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
Like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.

Some fuckin people

Some people would rather yell than listen

Some people would rather destroy than create

Some people would rather grow old than grow up

Some people would rather slap than punch

Some people would rather stand and watch than take a stand

Some people would rather hide than seek

Some people would rather busy themselves than stop for five minutes

Some people would rather avoid than engage

Some people would rather forget than reflect

Some people would rather sleep around than sleep

Some people would rather hurt than help

Some people would rather take than give

Some people would rather hate than understand

Some people would rather hesitate than risk everything

Some people would rather fight than fuck

Some people would rather die than try

Some people would rather piss and moan than change

Some people would rather get a fix than get a life

Some people would rather take a dive than go down swinging

Some people would rather bathe in their own filth than take a shower

Some people would rather admire themselves in a mirror than look out a window

Some people would rather sink than swim

Some people would rather live on their knees than die on their feet

Some people would rather lie to themselves than accept the truth

Some people would rather watch Nascar than educate themselves

Some people would rather be the sheep than be the wolf

Some people would rather waste time on a blog than accomplish anything

I've been tellin' you I'm a genius since I was seventeen. In all the time you've known me you still don't know what I mean...

So today is the last day of school of the semester, which is noticeably mint.
Go figure I slept through two classes anyway, but I just couldn't get to sleep last night until about 4:30. Mather and I stayed up watching Rescue Me when we should've gone to bed. Then we watched CSI for an extra hour, just to make things worse.
Fucking TV.
And now I'm left with one class in the semester, Sex Psych, which I've missed for the past 2 weeks. So I'd better go tonight.

Exams are just around the corner too, my first being Pathology on Saturday. And surprisingly I'm feeling pretty good about my studying for finals, but I've still got a pantload of info to cram into my skull before they hit me. And most of my marks this semester are less than stellar, so there's reason to panic.

I'm a motherfucker of a procrastinator, and this year has been no different than others. I always start the semester by saying, "this year I'm going to stay on top of my shit every week, put in a few hours every single day" and it never sticks. I'm just too fucking lazy. I've got minimal hours of class, with no labs or essays, and still I don't find time for keeping up with readings and reviews.

But sooner or later I'm gonna have to wake the fuck up.

It's 3rd year of university and I've still got my stupid habits from highschool. I think the problem lies in the fact that highschool was such a breeze, and I was always near the top of the class. Now I'm middle of the pack in marks, at best. That's not to say that any of these jokers around me are any smarter, per se. They just study more and stay on top of their shit. Fucking try-hards.

Marks are a piss-poor measure of intelligence if you ask me. Our whole educational system is based on learning information for a few critical days, then completely forgetting that stuff so we can study for the next exam. Remember the quadratic equation or the Krebs cycle? Goddamn right you don't. There's no question in my mind that I'm suffering in my marks because of this, not to mention countless others that are in this system.

How the fuck can we produce quality doctors, politicians, artists, and engineers in a system that holds the book-worm up as the apex of intelligence. Doctors can't be busy consulting their goddamn rolodex of procedures while they slice into your body; artists can't truly create anything if they're worried about getting the subjective approval of their teacher just to achieve a grade.

Therein lies the problem: we all need a way to measure things. And intelligence is just another "thing" that we hope to get a grasp on. But if you ask me, the greatest minds out there see marks as nothing more than an inconvenience. Some get good grades, some don't. So it's kinda tough to say who's really the smartest in a pack of university kids.

Then again, maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am. Afterall, if I'm so fucking smart, how come I'm stupid enough to let my work slip out of my hands? And why must I always cram like mad at the last minute just to save face?

That said, I'd better hit the books.