La musique: WHOMP, THERE IT IS.

Okay, so my mom is leaving for someplace sunny this coming Monday, she'll be gone for a week. Since she's not taking me, I'm having a party.
The specs:

Date: Good Friday, April 9. Let's celebrate Jesus dying by drinking our faces off. the bars aren't open anyways. So staying in the Fort should be no problem.

Time: Whenever you feel like it.

Where: My house, Lemme know if you need directions.

Rules: ANYTHING gets broken, you're fucked. Any mess made HAS to be cleaned. In short, don't be a moron. Which may be a lot to ask (for myself included).

BYOB(ooze), B(lankets), P(illow). RSVP below. The Chateau Ling is back fuckers.

La musique: the distillers, again.

"Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God? Listen to me, you have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. We don't need him. Fuck damnation, man. Fuck redemption. We are God's unwanted children, SO BE IT!" (From memory foos.)

Fuck, can I ever relate to everything he says. The coolest, most intelligent person I know is a fictional character. I am Matt's deflated self esteem.

La musique: nadda

I love how I have been without sleep for 22 hours, am extremely unmotivated and ambivilant, and yet it's still incredibly easy for me to outsmart the idiots who call and think we've fucked up.

"Annie was and idiot. I'm mean who'd want to be an orphan anyways?" -From some old lady's ramblings in March's Reader's Digest.

La musique: the entire coral fang Distillers album

If getting naked next to a man with pink nail polish on makes you uncomfortable maybe you should work out your issues before coming to the gym.

I've been up since 9am, I worked 12:30pm to 8:30 pm, then came back at 12am to work until 8. Why? Because I'm a sucker for backshift pay and for Brady's puppy dog face. This way I get my entire payday off, can sleep a bit, then have the evening to drink and run amok.
So needless to say, the entire contents of this evening's posts will be loaded with exhausted, incoherant ramblings that will hopefully entertain whoever (if anyone) still reads this.

I was actually wondering today how many friends actually stay friends for most of their lives. I mean I'm sure my Dad hasn't seen his best man (and my godfather) since I was in Grade 7 or so.
I'm not trying to alienate any of my friends here, or place blame or anything like that. This is mearly me thinking in blog form, so please don't get pissed off. I just think it's funny how a break up, a new job, change in locale, can all completely alter bonds you may have thought would last forever, and then in time it can completely come full circle.
I had friends at Queen Charlotte, then I move. Now I'm friends with some of them again. Then there's my friends from high school of which I have a few left. A break up forces me to adjust my clique a little, I survive. There's my Wal-mart friends: I see a few sometimes, we reminisce about beach parties, work, make small talk, and so on. But that part of me is so distant, so gone that I just smile and take part in the contrived pleasantries, wondering if they know the're talking to a stranger.
There's my friends that have pretty much accumulated though all this. These are the closest ones. Ones that have my best hope of lasting, other weaker ones I see dying off in the wake of new changes. I'm a very mawkish person when it comes to shit like this. I get down sometimes about friends I've made and lost. At cadet camp, in Newfoundland, in life.
I've made some great buds at Watts too. I wonder if any of these have that type of moxy, that je ne sais quoi, to go the distance, or if any other of my current ones do?
Teachers have always told me I don't do a great job of elaborating on points I've made in essays and stuff. And I feel I've cut a lot of shit short tonight. You'll just have to deal with the condensed version of my feelings. I'm too fucking tired. I doubt you wanted to read anymore anyways...

La musique: China Grove- The Doobie Brothers

I wish I'd stop dreaming about my Dad. I've willed him pretty much entirely out of my conscious thoughts, but he always finds a way to pop into my unconscious. My affect in general is largely a similar to his, so as much as it pains me to admit we are a lot alike. But I haven't had my pills all week, and I have to wait until payday before I can afford them. It's my irratic, unstable mood is what most often reminds me of the Ling blood in me.
I keep having other dreams that I'll wake up from and go "That would make a wicked movie!" (obviously if I stretched it out). I'll think to myself: "Self, you should write that down, you'll forget it in the morning." But I never write them down, and always forget them. The riff from "satisfaction" came to Keith Richards in a dream, so maybe I should work on getting those down.
This weekend should be a good break though, it's Chris from work's birthdays, and we're going to sip (read: shoot) bacardi like it's his birthday while listening to the beautiful karaoke crooners singing in checkers below.

La musique: the sound of me shooting myself in the fucking face.

"Lately it seems that my dreams have started to die, it occurred to me, on the inside I guess so am I."
Oh Chad Kroeger, when will the rest of the world learn that we should all be like you. I'm totally going to perm and dye my hair blonde. Work among other things is driving me crazy, they pretty much figured a way to set things up so that I get every angry french person: back to back to back to back etc.

Trivia was fun. It was a rather weak turnout, but those who were there were quite boisterous. I was really fucked too.
"____ is right, come up here for your free beer."
"Do you come with the beer?"
"No, but tell your friend to win one and we'll talk."
I also sang Meat loaf's "paradise by the dashboard light" with an unidentified cougar. Good times. Further fun was had when my two supervisors and two coaches showed up sloppy drunk. Called me and another coworker "eye candy" and came with us to Myron's. I woke up in Melissa and Janelle's hallway. Good times.

La musique: 80's tv show theme song medley.

I'm at Dan's. He's on the phone with his woman, so I have some time to kill. I'm hosting a company trivia night at the Legion downtown tomorrow night. Therefore, the company is putting the reponsibility of holding/dispensing free beer tickets in a reasonably fair, uniform fashion. HA! Everyone is welcome, so if you show up, chances are you'll get some beer out of me. There's cash money prizes for the actual trivia part too. It starts at 8. I'm starting drinking at 5. No, seriously.
In any case, I'm assembling a two different music medleys, one for the end of each round. Since I am barely above computer illiterate, I waiting for Dan to get back and help me. Here he is, actually. So fuck off, you have better things to be doing anyways.

"This is a .44 caliber love letter straight from my heart."

A Virgo. Fuck. I need another Virgo like I need a hole in the head. But still I persist. I get vibes of interest, then withdrawn ambivilence. But still I persist.
Someone has brought us together, but at the same time it it they who is keeping us apart, and it is they who will inevitably take you from me unless I act. I smile, I laugh, I love. We're so alike it's scary. Most of the time I wish I wasn't a sappy headcase, but with you, I like it.

La musique: TNT- AC DC

I'm in the save queue. It's my job to "motivate" (read: scam) people into keeping their magazine, book, cd, whatever (In French!). I don't like doing it, it's shifty as hell, but I'm really fucking good at it. You spit this retarded propaghanda at these people so much, you almost start believing it yourself.
Ever see that Simpsons where Homer takes a "cheque" he gets in the mail into the bank? The banker explains he can't cash it.

"Why?"
"See where it says 'not a cheque', 'void void void', and 'Banker do not honor this'? That's why."

You have a good chuckle thinking no one is that stupid to actually try that. Well.... I got a call where some lady thought she actually had two cheques for $30,000. It took me a half hour to convince her otherwise. Another guy called up (not to me) and was livid. Why? He had rec'd a "cheque" for $5,000 in the mail. He then proceeded to deposit it into an ATM, withdraw the cash, and went on a bender.
A pal had just gotten a call from a gentleman who needed help orchestrating the kidnapping and possible murder of his bank's manager, the customer was not able to do himself because he's physically disabled. I'd wager I deal with more crazies per day than my mom, who's a psychiatric nurse.

La musique: the faint- your retro career melted

whoa.
what a bender. Wednesday me and Andrew D. rocked the wave and proceeded to suck at trivia.
"What is the most agricultural country in the world?"
"JAPAN!"
What's worse, I actually did a project on Japan and it's population, but being an baked idiot, Japan seemed like a good guess, they farm, um... rice. The real answer was even funnier: ETHIOPIA. HA.

Thursday we went to the "NEW" Myron's "EXTREME" trivia. I did get rather drunk and make out with a fish, but it's the principle. No Joel+No pitchers= Boo. Plus we didn't win.

Saturday, some of us cool kids from work went to see Starky and Hutch. Great flick. Then we went and had drinking games where I was the only person who had no beer. Rum for Matty (and some beer). In this fashion, when you have to drink, some can sip a beer, I had to do a shot. FU UUUUUCK.

We went to St. James' gate, then to Myron's. Danced it up. Remainder of evening is pieced together by what other people told me.

La musique: waterwings/ alexisonfire (one of the better vids I've seen in a while, too.)

Matt's weekend:
-Snowed in Thurs and Fri.
-Worked backshifts.
-Watched Fight Club excessively. (like 5 times in 3 days)
Woo.
To compensate I'm getting propa' fucked tonight. the wave shall feel the wrath.