La musique: Matt Mays- City of Lakes

She's prettier than you, and you, and you.
She's prettier than you, and you, and you.

So I finally hit the bottom of a wonderful downward spiral I was headed down. I can't say I'm suprized. Love is a beautiful thing, but it's no mood stabilizer. I think I may have finally proved to myself that I can't conduct myself as a normal human without them.

However, at the bottom of the pit of self loathing, despair, and idiocy, she was there (with a cd no less). And slowly but surely, my sense of 'everything's gonna be ok', which is a hard feeling for me to keep, is coming back.

Slowly but surely, slowly but surely, slowly but surely, everything will be normal again. But for now, I do believe I'm going insane. I'm ready to murder one of my leads. I think I need a 'mental health day' no so much for me, but so I don't come to work
With an armalight ar-10 gas powered semi-automatic weapon pumping round after round into collegues and coworkers...
But I digress.....

La musique: Radiohead- Fake plastic trees

So last night it was decided, as per usual that I would attend trivia. A pretty mixed, small sized posse showed up. And me and Chuck were ruined.
Last night was definetly the worst trivia experience EVER. No one was there, the people who who there were dead quiet, and One of the hosts was replaced with the other host's retarded brother. That being said, we still won nothing. (See 3rd phrase, 1st paragraph)

We left and smoked some more-Success.
We then decided we would have to get my frisbee down, which we had previously lodged in a tree- Success.
We went to the Tiger mart and began operation sugar daddy. Combined with the two handfulls of mints I lifted from Myron's we 'aquired' a bag of real fruit gummies, a bag of starburst, and some ranch corn nuts among other things. So we were hopped on sugar in addition to other things.
We went to Stonepark and played frisbee in the dark- I discovered I can't throw a frisbee, and Chuck Taylors are no good for running on pavement.
We then drove around around and changed some signs around to say perverted things, pictures to follow. Our progress was slowed when the police drove by, so we decided to abort the mission.
I woke up at 2:20, I worked at 3. Instead of calling and saying I'd slept in for a 3pm shift, I just showed up 20 minutes late. No one noticed.

La musique: Beastie boys/ ch-ch check it out

We should play baseball sometime soon. I miss frightening old ladies with bats and rolling down bleachers inside drain pipe sections.

La musique: death cab for cutie-transatlanticism

When I hold you everything is perfect. There is no job, bills, war or famine. I wish we could stay like that forever. Looking into each other's eyes, glassy with wet because we've run out of ways to say "I love you."
Wrapped in your arms, it's just dark enough to see the beauty in front of me. The music plays, nothing else exists outside this room, besides you and me, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

La musique: pretty vacant- Sex pistols

So I realize that you may not care abut politics, and I also realize you may care even less what I think about politics. But politics and social sciences in general (see: Sociology degree in progress) are become more and more of interest to me lately. With my new found wealth yesterday I purchased Stupid White Men by Michael Moore I read the intro and the first chapter and was blown away. The man is so incredibly well spoken and the shit he lets fly could/should change the State of the world if some of the facts were more widely recognized by global media.
But I digress... In any case. If you're into anti-bush left wing propaghanda, I suggest you pick it up.
I'll be at trivia tonight, if I see you, I'll likely buy you a (cheap) beer.

La musique: Money- Pink Floyd

I got my income tax check back yesterday. I had filed them online and they said my rebate would be $300 some odd dollars. The check turned out to be for $790.
I danced.
I said 'Holy motherfuck' a lot.
I danced some more.
See you at trivia fools.

La musique: Thursday

"There's music playing, but we dance to the beat of our own black hearts and draw diagrams of suicide on each other's wrists. Then we trace them with razor blades"

Phonebooks don't leave bruises my ass.

After sitting in the dark and getting sick on Tropi-kiwi cooler (why?) Me and Chuck took off to the parking lot in search of adventure. We found Brent, Taylor, And Jeff and followed them to 1H. After Ol' Fireball Mahoney almost knocked me over, there was a large contingent of people to 'phonebook' and be 'phonebooked' by.
We left to hit the bars. Chuck abandoned me, and trying to hail down a cab (even ones you called) in that mess of drunkeness was brutal.
At Myron's, Coranna bought me a drink, and her and Lacey left shortly afterwards and left me to my own devices.
I skipped around group 1 of Jane, Jeff, Tyler and Nic, and Group 2- Steve and Jon Adams, whom I haven't seen in ages and promptly bought me a drink.
I also saw Jeremy Goeseels who "Will always love me." and Lynsey from Wal-mart and Carlye from school. Alas... it seemed everywhere I looked was someone I knew, And boy was I Fuuuucked.
I decided to walk back to Brown's court in the rain, but right before the Credit union, the Lovely Ms. Goeseels in the company of Sarah and Melissa picked me up and drove me to my destination.
I'm pretty sure I helped a drunk Ms. Hickey into the bathroom on my return. I also have massive motherfucking scrapes on the tops of both my feet that hurt like hell. How I got them, we may never know.

La musique: The Trews- Every Inambition

C'mon, C'mon get up I want to take you,
Away from all of this,
And what has got you lost,
And feeling down.
So just get up off your back and
Fly away.

Who sings that?
Wow, I'm in such a great effing mood. As boring and mundane as it is here, I'm euphoric. I haven't felt this great about my life in a long, long, time. If ever.
Happy belated Mothers day as well. I showed my Mom how special she was by sleeping all day. I DID give her some of my chicken nuggets (Muttering "You're lucky it's mother's day" under my breath). However, I couldn't find any of the "explicit" cards that Taylor gives Arleen, so I just wrote the following directly on the box in giant black letters:
"Dear Billy,
We sure are proud of you. You're a man today.
Love, Uncle Teddy."

The reaction wasn't so much "humorous" as it was "uncomfortable". Suddenly I realized what the Lipton Family goes though each holiday.

La musique: Led Zeppelin- Oceans

This afternoon, me and Chuck were at the Esso in Stratford.
Matt: "Do they have any?"
Chuck: "White power?"
Matt: "Yeah"
Chuck: "I dunno, but there's cookies and white power up here."
Chuck was ahead of me in line, after he had been rung through and left, the clerk asks: "Were you guys talking about White power?"
On a head full of oil, I somehow managed to hold up my cookies and cream bar, and explain that we talking about white chocolate.

La musique: elephant woman- blonde redhead.

First off, I'd like to mention that I am not a regular smoker. I smoke when the're around, I've bought a pack like, once, ever. And I still find smoking regularly quite revolting. And yes, I'm a hippocrite. But no, you will not find me downing a pack a day in a year from now.

Smoking can kill you. No shit. But only not in the conventional lung cancer-emphezema blacked lung form. Oh no, cigarettes have had a hit out on me for a long time. I don't know why, but they seem to me like an abusive parent. You love 'em, but give them the right chance and they'll fuck you up. Totally love/hate.
Deadly-yes. Master Arsonists- No. Our little cancer stick buds tried to ice me by burning down my house. However, I wasn't living there at the time. C'mon cigarettes, smarten up.
And now just today, I was inhaling some sweet carcinogens, rounding the corner by Peter Pan. And all of a sudden flames start shooting up from the gap between my two front seats. I'd imagine an ember flew in and landed on the pile of napkins I had... and poof. As smoke filled the car, I pulled over, found a water bottle Coranna had left, then douced the motherfucker.
So the score thus far:
Matt- Lives to see another day.
Cigarettes- causing diminished lung capcity, sore throat, smelling like an ashtray, and slowly killing Matt.
Hey look! A quarter!

My coughs taste like moonshine.

La musique: that HAwksley Workman song about cigarettes- Hungry for your cigarette? Yeah I think that's it. Mostly beciuse I want a cigarette

"I'd take a shot in the mouth right now for a smoke" -Dave Younker.

So i'm at work. as I usually am when I post here. The thing is, I went to a party. Fuck I want a cigarette. So I'm at work. And I'm kinda drunk. Not sloshed, or hammered, just kinda buzzed. Ok enough to keep it together. Plus it's midnight. And I'm the only one here. So I could be on a head full of acid and no one would notice.
the phrase "Sentence fragment" is also a sentence fragment.
I met a bunch of Alberton kids. Surprizingly, they liked me. They "have my back" we're "like this" *displays crossed fingers*
"It's ok if you want to screw my cousin, she's a nice girl. You have to give it to her hard though." -Zach
His emphasis on hard was rather surprizing considering we were talking about his cousin.
I slipped and fell into a pool of someone's spilt booze. So i'd be really surpized if the old Quebecoise I relieved didn't catch a wiff of my eau de alcool.
I want that nicotine more than a million dollard right now.
JOey the covad geek is more entertaining than Barnum and Bailey's at the moment.
The issue right now seems to be internal to the network printer, and not a covad issue.
What a great day-
Sleep all day, wake up. Play Manhunt, suffocate some punks with plkastic bags. Make out. Booze it. Come to work.
I'm living the Canadian dream.
ERROR error grammar overload.
I'll be back in a bit.

La musique: Everyday hate- Madball

I don't want to die without any scars.

I live life how I know how. I may be impulsive, reckless, etc., but that's who I am. Sometimes this goes over well, other times not so much. Sometimes it gets me praise, or laughs, other times I hurt myself or others.
Synapses and neurons are most of it, but that's over my head. I am they way I am because I don't want to miss out on anything. Impulsivity breeds adventure. But adventures are one of those funny things that can be positive or negative. Loves and good times had must outweigh those lost. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

But I wonder more often than normal how things would be different if I wasn't the way I am.

La musique: elite- deftones

Playing Frisbee while high is fun. Chuck was my "coach"
"Don't think your parents are paying me $200 an hour to see you half ass it?! Cut out, then in!"
I do it, and catch the frisbee.,
"Good, now take a break."
"Can I do pushups on my break coach?"
I wish someone had videotaped that whole exchange.

So after much criss-krossing, we finally ended up at the party. I drank waaay to much 151 + beer + red rev. I told everyone how much I loved them, almost fell off a roof, spilt my rum and coke ALLLL over some chick wearing ONLY WHITE. I was paid to fall down the the most painful stairs ever. My legs and shoulder are bruised beyond repair, and I have a honkin' goose egg on my head.
I headed solo to the Bars looking to find Coranna, she wasn't there. But I found other friends from work. I actually went outside to fight somebody, I even offered for him to hit me first , but his tough guy in the bar act erroded away to a blubbering idiot and nothing happened.
I got a cab to Brown's Court, hung out, then passed out.
I woke up with one of the worst hangovers ever.

La musique: ugh. turn it down.

Motherfuck. I'm at Brown's court. And it's noon. and I feel like death still.
Bye.