What would the HSR do to the corridor? All three cities would be changed. Edmonton would have an afordable and convient way to get to a from its remote air port, should a train from the south stop there, as a current proposal has it. I give it a fifty-fifty chance. Maybe this Bill Crukashucka has something up his sleve. Maybe he can pull this one off somehow. Do it cheep and finance it creatively. Or maybe he is sitting on a gargantuan pile of money (I doubt it, considering the humble (though not unclean) apearance of his business centre office.)

Eitherway, I have written about it, I will write about it. I am hard core. There is nothing that cannot be snot. Does that not make sence if you are on pot?

I have visited Prarie winds park in the North East Calgary darkness. It features and wadeing pool, jungle gym, tenis courts and a large artifical hill with a decent view of city. Downtown is visable in the distance. The construction of the LRT extention about two killometres to the west is well underway. The medium of the road is terribly torn up.

I have journalism class tonight. It is the first of novermebergberbillity. There is no turning back. All that we have to look forward to is a land-scape of explosions bursting from the ground at all distances. I have my journalism class tonight at seven. I may or may not get pot for work tonight. I didn't get any last night do to the seris of events that were caused into being. Is that vauge enough for you? I sure hope it ain't. I hope you are the kind of person that likes as little information as possible, Because information is not what I deal with. I like to deal with bullshit, speculation and hot-air. Speak from your ears. Fire your children. Don't think about the unthinkable. I just holds the truth that you will never replace with a computer program.

I got it, I'm on the right track and I'm finding my way through the rubbish and poison. I'm marching into the clear lands where the water is fresh and the stench of flowers fills my nose with rageing pleasure.

I am glad that you are here. You have found your way to these words and thoughts and I feel the need to comunicate to anyone, my frusteration...the complexity of my feelings. I worry that the world is in trouble and that I could possibly help if I could just over come my own nerosis, if I could get down to business. I know I can. I, perhapse need to share more with people, how I came to be so full of procrastination. It is a long and ridiculus story, perhapse not nearly as interesting as mould growing in your butt crack. However, here I am typeing and that is better than nothing, and I should phone my mother....I did.

Does this sound unfocused to you? I can focus. I hope you will agree upon reading my writing.

HEhhhhehehh...Well, the thing is; is that fat peoples' pee holes are large enough for a tough muther fuker to fit face first into.

The things that you must understand about such facts is that they are only true in the imagination of the most incredibly, unremarkable segment of the population that the world has ever seen. Don't expose yourself to the truth, or you too will poop your pants in horror. The gorry facts of life are too much for such sophisticated ignorance such as thine. don't be sublimly strmibled.

But it is easilly fixed and there is not a reason why I should continue on the way I have for so long. The world is beautifull to this day and we can find love in every ounce of dusty earth. There is potential in every second and the drive and the energy is there for the takeing. Nothing comands so much attention as the bursting nerf balls ...Oops, I was about to lauch into untra incoherence. The sheer pointlessness of wointy fal-abulals doesn't subtract from the big mac that is stacked upon the foot of my bed.

Posative thinking. I sit here in a good mood. I have time to type and I have ideas that are ripe for the picking

Here is a poem:

AND YOU CAN NEVER SURENDER!

(never surender...yeah..)....Go on a bender and lend your car to a stranger. Persistantly insist that some filthy punk take the keys to your freedom and leave with tires squeeling. Insist that this scum-bug drop it off at your home in three days. Don't forget to tell him that your address is on the registration in the glove box and that you'll be impatent if the car isn't in its drive way in 72 Hours... "...from now!" Set your watch and walk quickly away. Look back once and break into a sprint. Scream as you round the corner.

Here's a poem that many people can relate to:

You get the idea. I had a bicycle stolen, again! Filthy, filthy scum bag bike theives. Death to them. Hot burning death. Smoldering pain in their eyes and ears. Salt in their wounds. SALT! Farts in their noses and piss down their throats!

Bike theives...bah! Perhapse I should create a whole new web page about crime. There is more and more of that around. Fucken' fuckers. These people's mothers deserve good swift kicks in the cunt for raiseing such shitty human beings into the world. They are god damn dirty low-life shit-eating sons of mother fucking christs. If you think about that for a second you'll see that that statement means that Jesus fucked his mother (mary) and produced a severly retarded child that was prone to eating feses. Thats what bike theifs are. I'm sure there are some decent human beings that would fall under the catigory of "ctrain rat", but of course, those fuckers who kicked my face several times while I was lieing on the ground, those two little vermon, those two are god damn dirty low-life shit-eating sons of mother fucking christs! Yes they are...In my books anyway.

Stephen Harper wants to remove the gas tax. I say add more. An extra cent on a letre would go along way towards funding that high speed rail link between Calgary and Edmonton that I've been whineing about for so long. Click this link if you are able to.