Of One girl's very Sick Christmas...

Now when I say sick I don't mean it in the hip-hoppers slang way like "Yo that move was sick" or whatever kids these days are saying.

I mean like I just sneezed and a 7 pound garden slug made entirely of mucus fell out of my nose. That sick. I also ate my last advent calender choco and it tasted like NOTHING. Absolutely nothing. So tonight's feast is going to be a shit load of taste. NOT. But I have some presents to deliver... I made really cool covers for some friend's who I burnt CDs for... I want to take a picture but I can't, really so you'll just have to trust me on this one.

In spirit of the Holiday I'm going to leave you with this because I can't really breathe right now and I'd just like to go blow my nose please.



Additionally, I love posting youtube videos to my blog because I can change the color of the bottom... that's like a little christmas present for me, all year round baby.

Cold, Cold Water...

Now I suffer for your hungry eye, oh why must it see more than mine?
It's a light you're after, cause light moves faster..

But when I ride again into the night
my torch will shoot flames strong and bright
and my absence will remind you of
how tough it is to be in love..

Employment. Bam.

Oh man is it nice to not have to bitch about unemployment and have to dig through Cragislist every day and suck a bunch of dick for a change to work. Damnit.

I am seasonally employed by Aerie, American Eagle's lingere sister store. I know a shit load about bras now, let me tell you. It seems like a decent place. Seasonal employment hath become my life, that's for sure. Still though, this way I can buy christmas presents and make back the money for drumset partay!

I have my 2nd orientation tomorrow... what's weird about the store is that they call all their bras by women's names like Paige and Emma and Isabel.. and then refer to them as people "She fits like...." "Her straps are adjustable..." It's going to give me some identity complex that's for sure. I met a girl named Emma tonight and just pictured her as a bra with big air puffy pads in her... perhaps lungs, PERHAPS THE PADS ARE THE LUNGS OF THE BRA!!

what am i talking aboot.

I just got back from a pretty decent show at the Boat and a really cool free one across the street. Shows. I love 'em. These guys reminded me of Japanther as they had a Bass and drums only way less poppy. The one girl on bass KILLED IT. She was incredible. I can't remember their names but I want to play a show with them...

Speaking of bands Yasmin & I have decided upon a name for ours

"The 1730 Cat Massacres"

I might be able to swing using the ol' garage for a practice a week. Stoked. I'm also

considering going back to high school to take Chem, Bio & Calculus and maybe apply for UofT for Zoology...... considering it.... I would love that.

Of Shit hitting thy fan...

"The shit hit the fan" is a popular phrase used to describe messy situations... Such as your neighbour uncovering the makeshift Indian burial ground you've been using to hide the corpses of your neighborhood's house pets... which you have eaten in sacrifice to your warrior god. That would be a good example of shit hitting the fan. Or, to make matters short, anything that ends in public nudity and/or armed enforcement.

"In an average person's life shit will hit the fan approximately 35 times" claims a Biologist I have tied up in my basement. "For instance, the day you kidnapped me. By the way could you pass me a cookie?"

I didn't pass him a cookie. R. Kelly's masterpiece Trapped in the Closet is a marvelous achievement in "Shit Hitting the Fan History"


up there with Wasn't Me! by extremely popular one-hit wonder, Shaggy.

Granted, These are all in the context of R&B celebs caught cheatin' on their "boo". In most situations, shit hitting the fan is much more serious and leads to way more repercussions then "not hittin' that fine ass ever again".

To say the least, I'm not sure if, in my current pickle, the shit has hit the fan yet. Which usually means its nowhere even close but definitley accumulating in god's colon. When the shit hits the fan YOU WILL KNOW. Believe me.

Of Baby Grenades and Ace of Spades..

So it's 5am and i 5AM REALLY TIRED. haha get it that's why it's called the 'am': for bad jokes.

I'm growing increasingly discouraged about the job search.. Nobody wants to give me the time of day for even an interview, and I've had so many awkward moments walking in to stores and being like "hello, couldn't help but notice your Help Wanted sign!" and they're like "Yeah, we put it there because we want help..." and I'm like "......I'm helpful" and they're like "Well then you'd need a resume." And I'm like "Yeah. I have one right here." and then they're like "Oh great. Part Time or full time?" and I'm like "Either or (IJUSTWANTAFUCKINGJOB) I have a pretty open schedule." and Then they're all like "Ok great........" and I stand there smiling like a shit eating assdick thinking (Maybe you should say something) But I can't because it's like, what the fuck give me a job that isn't fast food please.

But more searching tomorrow.

I just wanted to write down a dream I had this morning where I had a baby and it was tiny and adorable and I loved it dearly but couldn't remember what I named it... so my whole family was like wow... way to not remember the name of your fucking child. Andrew bought it baby punk clothes and a Pink Floyd patch which I thought was really cute. At the end of the dream I got into a van with my "Superstar Action Hero friend" (Doesn't exist) who was like "Oh man we're filming, quick improv your child!" so I picked her up and was like "BABY GRENADE!" which is an amazing band name and woke up.

It was one of these dreams I have where I feel like I've been in this alternate universe before... like all my dream's settings are completely different yet so similar. I woke up half relieved that I don't have a baby and half wondering where she/he went... and I had some strange attachment to it... it was a really weird feeling, cause I was so convinced.

Anyway... it forsee/symbolized some interesting points. I wonder...
I am so tired now I cant even breathe. More resumes tomorrow, I'm considering getting wasted before I go in and shitting everywhere. I hate life. But good luck to Matt, please, world. Pleaseeeee.

Of drinks and sinks and shut up...

Shut up... omggg shuttt up! No way! No way!

Saturday went really well. With the exception of finding out what "Double vision" is for the first time..... shit. And of course having a few friends finding themselves in dramatic and stupid situations which is never fun. Annnd the mic blowing out for the first band's set but we fixed that thank baby jezzus.

I have a funny feeling this photo really explains it all:



"Impailing all of Gabie's friend's intestines? Don't mind if I do" - Texas Mickey

Good times though. Really. I am stoked for Friday cause I'm going to see King Khan and the BBQ's. It's already December 1st which is sooooo fucked up & I need a metropass!

like a true nature's child we were born, born to be wild... boooornnn to be wiiillddd