We're driving back to the apartment.
Me: Oh Brewster McCracken, I'd vote for mayor.
Oldest Brother: With a name like that, who wouldn't?
Me: Not even John Mayer. Brewster McCracken for Jon Mayer.
Oldest Brother: Vote for you would be the best Jon Mayer.
We both laugh.
Seems like he's started to understand me.
I have 1 day left.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
A Letter I Will Not Send
I'm trying ****, I really am.
I don't talk just to fill the gaps and silence. I like to entertain myself and others - I do it for fun. Don't just give me single word replies, insinuating you don't care. I know you're capable of playing along in this fantastical world I make up on the spot. I understand that "I think I just saw that man feeding a Pizza Hut pizza to those cats" is not a genuine statement. The man probably just put down the box temporarily, while he dishes whatever can of food out to the cats. I get it. You don't need to say "There's probably a logical explanation that we just don't know about. You shouldn't assume". I'm not a fucking moron. What I said was made up. Your actual answer should have been along the lines "Holy shit, really!? Is he picking up the bread sticks for them too, since they don't have thumbs?" I'm joking around.
You are capable of that. I hear all your Skype conversations with your girlfriend. You two joke all the time about made-up things. It's all just for fun.
I'm not your girlfriend, and I definitely don't want to be, but why can't you just do that with me. Why can't you do that? I've hung out with your friends and acquaintances here. It's pretty much the same with them too. It's all observations and niceties between you and them. What about the nonsense-fun?
Maybe you haven't noticed, but I am making a genuine effort to engage you. I, otherwise, wouldn't have come all the way to Austin. What? Did you think I was just going to be here for the music festival and spend the most time possible trying to avoid you? I'm sure part of you did believe that's what I would do. That expectation of yours wasn't really unfounded either. Back home, I never would say much when you did drop-by. Maybe I'm crazy, but perhaps it's been different right this time around? Maybe I've been acting different? As much as I have loved going on my own adventures to hear all the random bands, I've also really enjoyed hanging out with you. The basketball game was great - neither of us have ever been or really even knew the rules, but it was a fun time. I've also been really keen on these climbing adventures with you and you know that. During our car rides, I speak because I WANT you to speak to me. So maybe it's time for you to drop "playing the good host" and just be relaxed.
Spurs vs Celtics, March 22nd, Row 11
I guarantee it is higher and harder than it looks.
We're all way too much like Dad, or at least that's what I think. You, ******* and me have always been the silent type around one-another, just like Dad is with us. It means we bond slowly, by just being within each other's presence. There's not much talk about feelings and there's never any mentions of relationships.
There's nothing particularly wrong with this, but you need to realize that I am trying to step beyond that. I'm sitting on my bed, facing you, while writing this. Your back is to me, on the other side of the room. We're both listening to Dan le Sac vs Scroobius Pip - his songs are oddly relevant to us. I'm tired right now, so I'm not going to attempt engaging you, just so that you can reply using generic statements of "Ya, I suppose so" and "Ah, that's interesting." For now, we'll bond in that old way, but know this: you and I don't need to be disconnected.
So for the last 4 days that I'm here, why don't you just give this a try:
For the sake of humouring me why don't you just go along with my tendency to take too many pictures with my camera.
For the sake of humouring me, why don't you not try to pre-plan my day.
For the sake of humouring me, why don't you just talk to me about nothing. Not something, nothing.
You might surprised. Maybe I have something I want to tell you.
I don't talk just to fill the gaps and silence. I like to entertain myself and others - I do it for fun. Don't just give me single word replies, insinuating you don't care. I know you're capable of playing along in this fantastical world I make up on the spot. I understand that "I think I just saw that man feeding a Pizza Hut pizza to those cats" is not a genuine statement. The man probably just put down the box temporarily, while he dishes whatever can of food out to the cats. I get it. You don't need to say "There's probably a logical explanation that we just don't know about. You shouldn't assume". I'm not a fucking moron. What I said was made up. Your actual answer should have been along the lines "Holy shit, really!? Is he picking up the bread sticks for them too, since they don't have thumbs?" I'm joking around.
You are capable of that. I hear all your Skype conversations with your girlfriend. You two joke all the time about made-up things. It's all just for fun.
I'm not your girlfriend, and I definitely don't want to be, but why can't you just do that with me. Why can't you do that? I've hung out with your friends and acquaintances here. It's pretty much the same with them too. It's all observations and niceties between you and them. What about the nonsense-fun?
Maybe you haven't noticed, but I am making a genuine effort to engage you. I, otherwise, wouldn't have come all the way to Austin. What? Did you think I was just going to be here for the music festival and spend the most time possible trying to avoid you? I'm sure part of you did believe that's what I would do. That expectation of yours wasn't really unfounded either. Back home, I never would say much when you did drop-by. Maybe I'm crazy, but perhaps it's been different right this time around? Maybe I've been acting different? As much as I have loved going on my own adventures to hear all the random bands, I've also really enjoyed hanging out with you. The basketball game was great - neither of us have ever been or really even knew the rules, but it was a fun time. I've also been really keen on these climbing adventures with you and you know that. During our car rides, I speak because I WANT you to speak to me. So maybe it's time for you to drop "playing the good host" and just be relaxed.
Spurs vs Celtics, March 22nd, Row 11 
I guarantee it is higher and harder than it looks.We're all way too much like Dad, or at least that's what I think. You, ******* and me have always been the silent type around one-another, just like Dad is with us. It means we bond slowly, by just being within each other's presence. There's not much talk about feelings and there's never any mentions of relationships.
There's nothing particularly wrong with this, but you need to realize that I am trying to step beyond that. I'm sitting on my bed, facing you, while writing this. Your back is to me, on the other side of the room. We're both listening to Dan le Sac vs Scroobius Pip - his songs are oddly relevant to us. I'm tired right now, so I'm not going to attempt engaging you, just so that you can reply using generic statements of "Ya, I suppose so" and "Ah, that's interesting." For now, we'll bond in that old way, but know this: you and I don't need to be disconnected.
So for the last 4 days that I'm here, why don't you just give this a try:
For the sake of humouring me why don't you just go along with my tendency to take too many pictures with my camera.
For the sake of humouring me, why don't you not try to pre-plan my day.
For the sake of humouring me, why don't you just talk to me about nothing. Not something, nothing.
You might surprised. Maybe I have something I want to tell you.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Buck 65
Everything about Buck 65's stage presence makes me want to do him. His rapping skills, his awkward expressions and general geekiness - oh god, so hot.
Buck, please divorce your wife and leave Nova Scotia to live in Montreal.
Pretty please?
Thursday, March 19, 2009
SXSW First Day Update
Oh god my legs are sore and I am sunburned. It's great.
I was checking out all the SXSW music venues and bands for 8 hours today. I got really into a couple of acts - too bad they never said their names and I didn't try to plan out which bands to see.
My favorite music venue for music was handing out free beer all afternoon. The only thing that stopped me from going nuts was my promise to meet up with Older Brother after his work. I would have felt bad if I had been incoherent - so I held back and also took an hour to sober-up in a Whole Foods store. Mmmmm, I love potato salad.
Argh, so many hot guys here. Argh, so many not-so-hot people too. I felt like a perv today because I couldn't stop eyeing up this shirtless 18 (?) year old kid. Damn tattoos of his.
The acts and venues have been planed out for tomorrow, so I am ready for a world wind tour of Austin on my brother's bike. Passion Pit,K'Naan, Holy Fuck, Cold War Kids, Cut Off Your Hands, Peter Bjorn & John and others.
I've been trying to figure out how to talk to him on a friendship-level. He seems to bent on being a "good host" right now: showing me around Austin and giving me advice of what to see and where to eat. I've tried joking around about the normal nonsense I say, but he seems to just smile and nod. I suppose he's no used my personality or nonsense-humor style. I'm sure he'll eventually come around.
I was checking out all the SXSW music venues and bands for 8 hours today. I got really into a couple of acts - too bad they never said their names and I didn't try to plan out which bands to see.
My favorite music venue for music was handing out free beer all afternoon. The only thing that stopped me from going nuts was my promise to meet up with Older Brother after his work. I would have felt bad if I had been incoherent - so I held back and also took an hour to sober-up in a Whole Foods store. Mmmmm, I love potato salad.
Argh, so many hot guys here. Argh, so many not-so-hot people too. I felt like a perv today because I couldn't stop eyeing up this shirtless 18 (?) year old kid. Damn tattoos of his.
The acts and venues have been planed out for tomorrow, so I am ready for a world wind tour of Austin on my brother's bike. Passion Pit,K'Naan, Holy Fuck, Cold War Kids, Cut Off Your Hands, Peter Bjorn & John and others.
I've been trying to figure out how to talk to him on a friendship-level. He seems to bent on being a "good host" right now: showing me around Austin and giving me advice of what to see and where to eat. I've tried joking around about the normal nonsense I say, but he seems to just smile and nod. I suppose he's no used my personality or nonsense-humor style. I'm sure he'll eventually come around.
Monday, March 16, 2009
To Austin
Bright and early tomorrow morning, I will be on an airplane to glorius Austin, Texas/SXSW/visit oldest brother! I cannot wait for a bit of warmth, maybe even get [an extremely light] tan, enjoy some music and catch up with my nameless family member. I'm a little bummed that I'm spending St. Patrick's day in airports. Traditions has all my friends getting together and going wild. Oh well, I guess the low-cost plane ticket was worth it.
When I told the guys about my trip, Xav yelled out straight away:
Oh man, SXSW? You're gonna get so much ass!
Surprised by that comment, I gave him an odd look with:
You know you're talking about me right? The guy who notoriously unsuccessful at hooking-up or dating anyone?
Looking away in thought, his response was:
Oh ya.
I'm not gonna lie though - the idea is on my mind. Even last's night's dream was relevant. It was me and some kid from Manitoba talking, and all I was thinking in the dream was that he would shut up and we'd fool around. So we did. And then we attacked some people and ate some brains because we were also coincidentally zombies. Did I forget to mention this dream was only mildly relevant to me being horny? OK, maybe ever-so slightly relevant...
I have no idea how this could potentially happen since I've also stereotypes Texas to be pretty unfriendly toward gays. Two guys making out at a concert here? Somewhat normal. Two guys going tongue-to-tongue there? Hey, let's go find a shotgun...
I haven't forgotten about the more important purpose of this trip though. I'm gonna get comfortable talking with Oldest Brother. Try to figure out how to make us reconnect, per se, and I am going to tell him I'm gay.
Honestly, I haven't really thought about how the situation will work out, but I just feel really confident. If you're a longtime reader, you know that none of my family knows I'm gay. This would therefore the first step.
Ya know what? I feel so ready for this.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Strange Antics
As you might be able to tell, I'm making up for the not-so-much posting I've done this last week and the most likely not-so-much posting I will be doing this next week. I'm catching up because I like to keep up my general record of 20-30 posts a month.
If one recalls, I'm currently all alone at my parents' house. They have gone down to Florida for a month, leaving me free, comfortable and alone here. Ah, to walk around in my boxers/boxer-briefs again without weird glares.
Well, my Dad recently made an appearance back in Montreal. Apparently, something went haywire at the university, so he has needed to fly back here and step in for a week.
As rude as it is, when I arrived back home to find him watching TV one evening, I felt like he was an invader in my territory. How dare he show his face in MY home! Ya, it's actually their house...but I was so enjoying feeling like the master of my space!
Over the last few days he has made his presence known in the house, in ways that only he can provide: I constantly find butter covering the floor, cabinet handles and door handles. It's impossible for anyone to really make sense about this, whether its you strangers/the readers of this blog or whether it's me/his own family. Apparently though, when he butters his bread, it tends to go all over his hands (or fall onto the floor) and he feels the best way to wash it off is to wipe it onto any convenient edge.
I'm.....I'm kind of angry, but....I'm just mostly...speechless.
...
WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE DO THIS!?
I'd like to say that I wonder about him, but I think I'm quite beyond that at this stage.
If one recalls, I'm currently all alone at my parents' house. They have gone down to Florida for a month, leaving me free, comfortable and alone here. Ah, to walk around in my boxers/boxer-briefs again without weird glares.
Well, my Dad recently made an appearance back in Montreal. Apparently, something went haywire at the university, so he has needed to fly back here and step in for a week.
As rude as it is, when I arrived back home to find him watching TV one evening, I felt like he was an invader in my territory. How dare he show his face in MY home! Ya, it's actually their house...but I was so enjoying feeling like the master of my space!
Over the last few days he has made his presence known in the house, in ways that only he can provide: I constantly find butter covering the floor, cabinet handles and door handles. It's impossible for anyone to really make sense about this, whether its you strangers/the readers of this blog or whether it's me/his own family. Apparently though, when he butters his bread, it tends to go all over his hands (or fall onto the floor) and he feels the best way to wash it off is to wipe it onto any convenient edge.
I'm.....I'm kind of angry, but....I'm just mostly...speechless.
...
WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE DO THIS!?
I'd like to say that I wonder about him, but I think I'm quite beyond that at this stage.
Hipster Chronicles
Hipster Chronicles - Entry #427
Sunday March 15th, 2009
Dear Wanna-Be Hipster Diary,
I feel like I'm getting closer and closer to my goal. Just today, when my haircutter was styling my hair, he said "There, now you're hair has that indie-feel." O-M-G, I almost jumped up and kissed him, but I luckily remembered to suppress my visible emotions. I know! I didn't forget my hipster training AND I look even more the role. I was so deck.
But wait, there's more!
I then found and bought my first-ever pair of skinny jeans. This is so amazing, because I've been feeling so lost without them - I mean, what type of hipster wears normal pants? Exactly, they've been laughing at me for months, calling me midtown. Well now I've upped my game and I blend in perfectly!
I called up my friend to tell her how I'm getting closer and closer to hipsterdom and all she could say was "Oh God what have you unleashed!?". What a great compliment, eh?
I wanted to show her exactly what I looked like by taking photos of myself, but then my camera died. What shitty luck... so I instead listened to AIDS Wolf while chain smoking to make myself feel better.
I love talking with you wanna-be hipster diary. You're the only one that understands how hard it is to try this hard.
Love,
Thomas.
PS: See you tomorrow!
--------
Sunday March 15th, 2009
Dear Wanna-Be Hipster Diary,
I feel like I'm getting closer and closer to my goal. Just today, when my haircutter was styling my hair, he said "There, now you're hair has that indie-feel." O-M-G, I almost jumped up and kissed him, but I luckily remembered to suppress my visible emotions. I know! I didn't forget my hipster training AND I look even more the role. I was so deck.
But wait, there's more!
I then found and bought my first-ever pair of skinny jeans. This is so amazing, because I've been feeling so lost without them - I mean, what type of hipster wears normal pants? Exactly, they've been laughing at me for months, calling me midtown. Well now I've upped my game and I blend in perfectly!
I called up my friend to tell her how I'm getting closer and closer to hipsterdom and all she could say was "Oh God what have you unleashed!?". What a great compliment, eh?
I wanted to show her exactly what I looked like by taking photos of myself, but then my camera died. What shitty luck... so I instead listened to AIDS Wolf while chain smoking to make myself feel better.
I love talking with you wanna-be hipster diary. You're the only one that understands how hard it is to try this hard.
Love,
Thomas.
PS: See you tomorrow!
--------The only 3 relevant, true(ish) details are:
yes I did get that haircut,
I do now own skinny jeans
and I actually did try to take a picture with my looking as hipster as possible. How sad/wonderful!
And no, I don't normally actually know those hipster linked-words. The internet showed me those. I would shoot myself in the eye before I ever used those words or became friends with someone who used them.
yes I did get that haircut,
I do now own skinny jeans
and I actually did try to take a picture with my looking as hipster as possible. How sad/wonderful!
And no, I don't normally actually know those hipster linked-words. The internet showed me those. I would shoot myself in the eye before I ever used those words or became friends with someone who used them.
Wet Dreams
Groups of friends should instigate more dinner parties. I'm talking about the make-the-food-at-home and invite everyone over, so talk, drink, eat and laugh together for an evening. I feel really good that mine went so well yesterday.
Here's the best comment of the night:
Tim: You think that's awkward? You don't know awkward! I still have wet-dreams! I am a 23 year old grown man, and I get wet dreams! In fact, when I was in Vancouver with my family this fall and we shared a bed one night, I had a wet dream. So in the middle of the night I had semen going down my leg, while sharing a bed with my Mom and sister. YOU DON'T KNOW AWKWARD AT ALL!
Mike: !!!
Liz: !!!
Xav: !!!
Me: !!!
[Mike's and Tim's Girlfriends]: !!!
All of us: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Here's the best comment of the night:
Tim: You think that's awkward? You don't know awkward! I still have wet-dreams! I am a 23 year old grown man, and I get wet dreams! In fact, when I was in Vancouver with my family this fall and we shared a bed one night, I had a wet dream. So in the middle of the night I had semen going down my leg, while sharing a bed with my Mom and sister. YOU DON'T KNOW AWKWARD AT ALL!
Mike: !!!
Liz: !!!
Xav: !!!
Me: !!!
[Mike's and Tim's Girlfriends]: !!!
All of us: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Laughing To Myself
While I was showering this afternoon, I burst out laughing from remembering how I tackled my lady-friend in a bar, yesterday, and began humping her, while lying on the floor.
Two days go, I literally could not stop laughing for 15 minutes because I thought up the lamest/most wonderful joke, while showering.
I can distinctly remember two months ago when my laughing was so loud and long, that my Mom confronted me after I showered because she thought I was crying.
I love that I get so easily entertained by my own thoughts. Like you probably noticed, I chose examples of only showering because that's a moment I have just about everyday in which my mind doesn't get focused on anything in particular, so it has the chance to just wander. This doesn't only happen when I'm cleaning myself - my mind thinks up these hilarious and weird situations all the time when I'm doing really mundane stuff: washing the dishes, making lunch, riding the bus. There is no doubt in my mind that I've been pegged as the crazy dude on the bus a few times, when I start chuckling to myself for no visible reason.
This post isn't going on any real trajectory. I just felt like saying that I am really thankful for these ways I keep myself so entertained and in good humor. I would hope everyone does this.
Two days go, I literally could not stop laughing for 15 minutes because I thought up the lamest/most wonderful joke, while showering.
I can distinctly remember two months ago when my laughing was so loud and long, that my Mom confronted me after I showered because she thought I was crying.
I love that I get so easily entertained by my own thoughts. Like you probably noticed, I chose examples of only showering because that's a moment I have just about everyday in which my mind doesn't get focused on anything in particular, so it has the chance to just wander. This doesn't only happen when I'm cleaning myself - my mind thinks up these hilarious and weird situations all the time when I'm doing really mundane stuff: washing the dishes, making lunch, riding the bus. There is no doubt in my mind that I've been pegged as the crazy dude on the bus a few times, when I start chuckling to myself for no visible reason.
This post isn't going on any real trajectory. I just felt like saying that I am really thankful for these ways I keep myself so entertained and in good humor. I would hope everyone does this.
And that was Saturday
Oh god, I'm so hungover that I just tipped into a wall, fell down and stayed there for 3 minutes laughing to myself about how stupid I am.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Workin'
With my upcoming trip to Austin, my boss has become quite nervous about the number of urgent items building up. Even with my reassurances that I'll still be working a bit while away, he's still anxious about it all.
Me: It's not like I'll be away the whole time. I'll still be popping in on Skype and doing work while in Austin, just not as frequently...
Boss: Oh ya right, don't give me that. We all know you're there for drugs, sex and rock and roll. Liz has told me the music festival is going on. It all sounds much too cool for you to hang out on your laptop with me.
Me: Hahaha, I swear I won't be ignoring you too much.
Boss: I'm jealous! I wish I was going to Austin.
Me: Either way, I'll make sure to get these [certain urgent things] done before my flight next wee.
Boss: OK, I just wanted to make sure about all that. Let's get back to you take screen captures of me hooked-up to a rectal sensor.
Consequently, I've been working late evenings and nights for the last few days. I'm sort of getting annoyed, but unlike most people I am lucky that I rarely ever need to do this.
By the way, that last remark from my boss is quite accurate. Oh the things he has me do.
Me: It's not like I'll be away the whole time. I'll still be popping in on Skype and doing work while in Austin, just not as frequently...
Boss: Oh ya right, don't give me that. We all know you're there for drugs, sex and rock and roll. Liz has told me the music festival is going on. It all sounds much too cool for you to hang out on your laptop with me.
Me: Hahaha, I swear I won't be ignoring you too much.
Boss: I'm jealous! I wish I was going to Austin.
Me: Either way, I'll make sure to get these [certain urgent things] done before my flight next wee.
Boss: OK, I just wanted to make sure about all that. Let's get back to you take screen captures of me hooked-up to a rectal sensor.
Consequently, I've been working late evenings and nights for the last few days. I'm sort of getting annoyed, but unlike most people I am lucky that I rarely ever need to do this.
By the way, that last remark from my boss is quite accurate. Oh the things he has me do.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
They're Taking Over
It is my civic-blogger duty to expose a truth to you all. Thus far, I feel like I'm to only one to have caught onto this. The more I think about it though, the more is makes clear sense. Why have others not realized it either? I'm not sure, but I think this might be a giant, music industry conspiracy. I'm not gonna beat around the bush anymore, I'm just gonna say it:
Lady Gaga is a robot.
Ya, ya, her music is very catchy and clearly going for pop mega-stardom. You can hear it everywhere (of course I've refused to download it, since willingly listening to popular music would go against the creed of the wanna-be-hipster). But you need to look past that computer enhanced, or dare I say computer-originating, voice. In fact, if you go to Youtube, you type in Lady Gaga Talks, you'll she her accent continuously changes between American, British and Northern European. Perhaps the robot is still mastering the English language?Maybe it's only clicking in your head right now. I mean, have you seen her? Ignoring the fact that her name is indeed LADY GAGA, which is clear evidence she was made and christened in Japan or South Korea, she looks like a freaking robot! Fixed mouth. Clothing that never wrinkles or even changes shape. Immovable hair. Skin unaffected by sunlight. Sweat less.
At first I thought she might have been made from ceramics (case in point below), but that would have been a pretty big design flaw for the Japan/S.Korea.
Plastic is the obvious answer. When the camera crews go home and the lights are out, they switch up her style by removing her head and chest plate, and attach on new pieces. She's the next trendy level of the Mr./Mrs. Potato Head.
The great ruin of the music industry began a long time ago when the big companies decided to manufacture bands, but this steps it up a notch. Instead of using actually people they've just caved to building actual robots. I suppose it makes sense: they don't get tired, they can keep signing, they can churn out albums like Mormon-polygamists churn out babies.
I'd think her sexy mannerism and demeanor are all just programming too. If the clothes came off we'd mostly like see just a plastic covering where the crotch should be (think Barbie) or maybe a smoke pipe, spewing out gasoline fumes from her 6 cylinder engine (maybe if she were to break into a brisk run she could achieve a good 140km/h. The Japanese do make good cars). Just look at the poor Model Guy below. He looks psychologically wounded at the prospect at having to fool around with Lady Gaga.
If you still need some subtle hinting that she's made in a warehouse, HER PLASTIC SIBLINGS ARE ACTUALLY STANDING AROUND HER IN THE ABOVE PHOTO.Still, if you need to more proof, just click the below link to the YouTube video for Poker Face.
Everything about the video is trying to tell the watcher that she's made of plastic and wiring. I like to think a bunch of the filming team were trying to warn the masses about It's true identity. I'd bet that same crew can now be found at the bottom of some river.
LADY GAGA DOES NOT FORGIVE.
Come one people! We need to ban together against the rise of the machines! The music industry is undoubtedly only the beginning!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Caribou
I would make a freaking amazing caribou.
I would be irresistible to the other caribou and I would have dozens of little caribou babies.
I would be my own kick-ass amazing caribou-specie.
Or at least I like to think that.
Yup, that's right.
I think about the What Ifs of being a caribou.
I would be irresistible to the other caribou and I would have dozens of little caribou babies.
I would be my own kick-ass amazing caribou-specie.
Or at least I like to think that.
Yup, that's right.
I think about the What Ifs of being a caribou.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
What 13 year olds do
Although I am tipsy/drunk, this is not a drunk post.
It is an aristocratic post. It is culture in it's purest form. We are the privileged. This is power in it's natural shape of knowledge....
...or compelte bullshit - you decide.
I have a new method of writing, inspired by a previous drunk post. Blue writing now signifies writing in French. Comme ici pute, c'est ma propre example.
The normal white font writing is the translation that follows. In accordance with the previous blue sentence, here is the translation that follows: Look at this slut, this is the example.
Why do I even need to include the French version, since probably none of you even care? Well, that's simple:
This is my blog. The French language is part of my culture. Fuck you. I want it to be here, so here it is.... Bitch.
Moving on to the topic at hand....
This is one of the most amazing things I have overheard. It happened while I was waiting for my bus to take me downtown. It came from one particular 13 year old girl, hanging out with her other 13 year old girl friends in a park:
«Tu dois avaler.»
"You need to swallow."
My interest is peaked immediately and I focus on their conversation.
«Les gars, ils m'aiment parce qu` j'avale.»
"Guys like me because I swallow."
Hearing this, I burst out laughing. The group pf girls all look over at me. I can't hide the fact I was over listening to them and I just start laughing, while staring at them. My bus arrives coincidentally right then, so I walk on-board and I keep looking out the window and laughing at the girls, while they give me dirty looks.
Awesome. Just awesome.
It is an aristocratic post. It is culture in it's purest form. We are the privileged. This is power in it's natural shape of knowledge....
...or compelte bullshit - you decide.
-------
I have a new method of writing, inspired by a previous drunk post. Blue writing now signifies writing in French. Comme ici pute, c'est ma propre example.
The normal white font writing is the translation that follows. In accordance with the previous blue sentence, here is the translation that follows: Look at this slut, this is the example.
Why do I even need to include the French version, since probably none of you even care? Well, that's simple:
This is my blog. The French language is part of my culture. Fuck you. I want it to be here, so here it is.... Bitch.
Moving on to the topic at hand....
This is one of the most amazing things I have overheard. It happened while I was waiting for my bus to take me downtown. It came from one particular 13 year old girl, hanging out with her other 13 year old girl friends in a park:
«Tu dois avaler.»
"You need to swallow."
My interest is peaked immediately and I focus on their conversation.
«Les gars, ils m'aiment parce qu` j'avale.»
"Guys like me because I swallow."
Hearing this, I burst out laughing. The group pf girls all look over at me. I can't hide the fact I was over listening to them and I just start laughing, while staring at them. My bus arrives coincidentally right then, so I walk on-board and I keep looking out the window and laughing at the girls, while they give me dirty looks.
Awesome. Just awesome.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Facebook Recording Life
I've been wondering about Facebook (and social websites) today. I've been on one or another since my mid-university life; so since about 3 or 4 years. I can look back at pictures on my Facebook and look at a younger me. Physically, I look mostly the same but my hair and clothes have changed a bit.
So what's it going to be like in 10 years with these websites? Am I still going to be on Facebook or its future successor? Will I be able to see what I looked like for the last 10+ years? Will I be able to see a transition of myself from young, single Thomas to a 30-something year old, in a long term relationship or married Thomas? That's of course assuming I will do those things. Who knows, maybe I'll just end up as some bitter guy in my 30s, after all my friends have found love.
Will everyone have eventually caved to putting a small facsimile or avatar of themselves on the internet by then? A friend of mine loves to takes photos of her baby and upload them for all to see. She probably has a good 600 photos of him on her Facebook. Will this little guy grow up to be 11 or 12, and then jump onto Facebook and create his own little account and be able to see countless snapshots of himself that have been on there for all to see since he was born?
I don't think this is scary, sad or amazing per se. It's just... I don't know, so foreign or unusual; just uncharted territory.
Maybe everyone will get over the idea of having miniature, virtual shrines devoted to themselves and social websites will become wildly unpopular. Maybe they'll just go down a slippery slope, that ends when it's just one giant dating website.
Let's not forget there's also death. If you will recall, I once wrote a post about an acquaintance who died a little less than a year ago. I personally think that was a fucking great post, sicec it was so personal and I spent so much time and effort writing it out well. Anyway, she's on Facebook. She's now dead and she's is still on Facebook. People still occasionally post on her "wall". They say how much they care for her and miss her still. She was actually recently tagged on some photos... 6 months since she's taken a breath. Will Janelle's identity be forever posted up on the internet?
Don't get me wrong - what I'm saying should not detract from the positive feelings I got from her, described on that linked post. I get that her presence on Facebook is probably very cathartic for people: they get to release these pent-up emotions, directly sharing them with a woman they so cared for. She's there, "listening", and it gets recorded in writing...forever. It's like having a picture of her on a shelf, I suppose. The weird thing, though, is that don't you think people deserve a chance to really die? The things that made up them, go from physicality to memory? (Don't even think of saying "Oh but they do: physical photos to digital, internet memory!" You jackass.)
When my day comes, which could be in a week, on a tragic flight to Austin, or in 20 years, I would hope my friends would take me off Facebook. I don't need to be some one's friend, from beyond the grave. I would much prefer my virtual self to be dead. Let whatever mental image I've build in my friends' and family's memories be the image they look for when they think of me. Sure, I'll eventually be forgotten, but that's the way the universe works. Things should never last forever and nothing should ever try to be.
So what's it going to be like in 10 years with these websites? Am I still going to be on Facebook or its future successor? Will I be able to see what I looked like for the last 10+ years? Will I be able to see a transition of myself from young, single Thomas to a 30-something year old, in a long term relationship or married Thomas? That's of course assuming I will do those things. Who knows, maybe I'll just end up as some bitter guy in my 30s, after all my friends have found love.
Will everyone have eventually caved to putting a small facsimile or avatar of themselves on the internet by then? A friend of mine loves to takes photos of her baby and upload them for all to see. She probably has a good 600 photos of him on her Facebook. Will this little guy grow up to be 11 or 12, and then jump onto Facebook and create his own little account and be able to see countless snapshots of himself that have been on there for all to see since he was born?
I don't think this is scary, sad or amazing per se. It's just... I don't know, so foreign or unusual; just uncharted territory.
Maybe everyone will get over the idea of having miniature, virtual shrines devoted to themselves and social websites will become wildly unpopular. Maybe they'll just go down a slippery slope, that ends when it's just one giant dating website.
Let's not forget there's also death. If you will recall, I once wrote a post about an acquaintance who died a little less than a year ago. I personally think that was a fucking great post, sicec it was so personal and I spent so much time and effort writing it out well. Anyway, she's on Facebook. She's now dead and she's is still on Facebook. People still occasionally post on her "wall". They say how much they care for her and miss her still. She was actually recently tagged on some photos... 6 months since she's taken a breath. Will Janelle's identity be forever posted up on the internet?
Don't get me wrong - what I'm saying should not detract from the positive feelings I got from her, described on that linked post. I get that her presence on Facebook is probably very cathartic for people: they get to release these pent-up emotions, directly sharing them with a woman they so cared for. She's there, "listening", and it gets recorded in writing...forever. It's like having a picture of her on a shelf, I suppose. The weird thing, though, is that don't you think people deserve a chance to really die? The things that made up them, go from physicality to memory? (Don't even think of saying "Oh but they do: physical photos to digital, internet memory!" You jackass.)
When my day comes, which could be in a week, on a tragic flight to Austin, or in 20 years, I would hope my friends would take me off Facebook. I don't need to be some one's friend, from beyond the grave. I would much prefer my virtual self to be dead. Let whatever mental image I've build in my friends' and family's memories be the image they look for when they think of me. Sure, I'll eventually be forgotten, but that's the way the universe works. Things should never last forever and nothing should ever try to be.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Busy Brain
I'm getting the distinct impression that Kieran's roommate is flirting with me.
Just to clarify right off the bat: this roommate it a guy about my age and is gay.
Also just to clarify straight away: even if he was interested in me, I would not be interested in him.
For most individuals, it's easy to perceive when other people are flirting with them. Clearly though, I'm not most people. Like I've said a few times before, I frankly suck at interpreting flirtation and "checking others out with their eyes", unless it's embarrassingly clear - as in the other person is continuously rubbing their hand over my chest for 2 hours while constantly repeating my name (Yes, a very true and awkward night).
There's a pretty high chance that he's just being friendly. We get along well, I talk with him when I'm over to hangout with Kieran and he's a funny guy.
He has this odd way of talking with me, while not looking directly at me. He asks me plenty of questions about myself and we talk about all the random subjects that come to mind. He constantly laughs and smiles with a smirk, but always looks away from me when he does this.
As I'm typing this, I'm starting to wonder why I'm even thinking about this. Why do I need to know if he's flirting or not, if the end result, regardless, will be me not dating him? I don't want to lead him on, but even if that is the case I don't think it would be considered mean for me to be simply talking with him on a normal level.
Uh, I'm over thinking all of this, and it's all because he's gay.
See what gay people do to me? They make me think all crazy when there's no reason to!
Damn you crazy homosexuals! Stop turning me into some stereotypical little girl from highschool, who thinks he whole world will come to a crashing halt if the boy she finds cute doesn't wave to her one day.
And to end this post that started going in one direction and ended in another, here is random real-person intimacy and hotness, stolen from the internet:
Just to clarify right off the bat: this roommate it a guy about my age and is gay.
Also just to clarify straight away: even if he was interested in me, I would not be interested in him.
For most individuals, it's easy to perceive when other people are flirting with them. Clearly though, I'm not most people. Like I've said a few times before, I frankly suck at interpreting flirtation and "checking others out with their eyes", unless it's embarrassingly clear - as in the other person is continuously rubbing their hand over my chest for 2 hours while constantly repeating my name (Yes, a very true and awkward night).
There's a pretty high chance that he's just being friendly. We get along well, I talk with him when I'm over to hangout with Kieran and he's a funny guy.
He has this odd way of talking with me, while not looking directly at me. He asks me plenty of questions about myself and we talk about all the random subjects that come to mind. He constantly laughs and smiles with a smirk, but always looks away from me when he does this.
As I'm typing this, I'm starting to wonder why I'm even thinking about this. Why do I need to know if he's flirting or not, if the end result, regardless, will be me not dating him? I don't want to lead him on, but even if that is the case I don't think it would be considered mean for me to be simply talking with him on a normal level.
Uh, I'm over thinking all of this, and it's all because he's gay.
See what gay people do to me? They make me think all crazy when there's no reason to!
Damn you crazy homosexuals! Stop turning me into some stereotypical little girl from highschool, who thinks he whole world will come to a crashing halt if the boy she finds cute doesn't wave to her one day.
And to end this post that started going in one direction and ended in another, here is random real-person intimacy and hotness, stolen from the internet:
Winter Cottage Weekend - Part 2
Ice Lake Shenanigans
Xav: It's so peaceful out here.
Tim: I keep forgetting that this is normally water that swim in during the summer.
Xav: Oh fuck it. I'm swimming on the ice!
Tim: Me too!
Me: Wait, lemme take out the camera!
Xav: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Tim: AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
And then I joined them.
Me: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I was surprised how warr it was. The shock actually kept me body really warm.
Me: I know - let's drink out here!
Soon after the ice-skate-sledding began.
Xav: It's so peaceful out here.
Tim: I keep forgetting that this is normally water that swim in during the summer.
Xav: Oh fuck it. I'm swimming on the ice!
Tim: Me too!
Me: Wait, lemme take out the camera!
Xav: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Tim: AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
And then I joined them.
Me: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I was surprised how warr it was. The shock actually kept me body really warm.
Me: I know - let's drink out here!
Soon after the ice-skate-sledding began.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Winter Cottage Weekend - Part 1
The weekend cottage getaway was everything I hoped it would be. I'll let the photos, with my added comments, describe this Part 1. Click pics to enlarge & sharpen the image.
Friend: It's too icy to drive all the way down, so we'll have to park up here and make the 10 minute walk to the cabin.
This is me pulling half of my group's food on my sled, down the frozen path.
The cottage is perfectly located in the middle of nowhere. No cell phone reception and no real neighbors.
Best of all, it's that stereotypical hunter's cabin, with animals heads/bones everywhere.
I wish I could have a moose head on my wall....without actually having to kill it.
The drinking began immediately, Friday night. It finally ended early Sunday afternoon. I had actually never played beer pong before. It's.....kind of boring.
We tried our hands (and asses) at drunk sledding. Not much success there.
So we instead focused out attention to our potato-cannon. It shoots surprisingly far.
Not pictured: the metal bell annihilated by Xav's good aim and one high-speed potato. The cannon has a pretty strong recoil.
Friend: It's too icy to drive all the way down, so we'll have to park up here and make the 10 minute walk to the cabin. This is me pulling half of my group's food on my sled, down the frozen path.
The cottage is perfectly located in the middle of nowhere. No cell phone reception and no real neighbors.
Best of all, it's that stereotypical hunter's cabin, with animals heads/bones everywhere.
I wish I could have a moose head on my wall....without actually having to kill it.
The drinking began immediately, Friday night. It finally ended early Sunday afternoon. I had actually never played beer pong before. It's.....kind of boring.
We tried our hands (and asses) at drunk sledding. Not much success there.
So we instead focused out attention to our potato-cannon. It shoots surprisingly far.
Not pictured: the metal bell annihilated by Xav's good aim and one high-speed potato. The cannon has a pretty strong recoil.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Prelude
Did you just hear it?
Oh ya.
It sounds like a low bass note.
I never knew that cracking ice sounds like that.
It happened all last night too. I thought at first we were going to fall through the ice, but then we got used to it.
And you guys decided to still build a fire in the middle of the lake, not thinking that was a bad idea?
Yup - I doubt the ice would have completely broken apart. It's like a foot thick....
...Although the cracks did happen a few times directly under my body, which did obviously freak me out.
We are insanity.
Oh ya.
It sounds like a low bass note.
I never knew that cracking ice sounds like that.
It happened all last night too. I thought at first we were going to fall through the ice, but then we got used to it.
And you guys decided to still build a fire in the middle of the lake, not thinking that was a bad idea?
Yup - I doubt the ice would have completely broken apart. It's like a foot thick....
...Although the cracks did happen a few times directly under my body, which did obviously freak me out.
We are insanity.
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