Thurs, Aug 30/01 10:31pm
Ah fuck. Fear and depression are mounting me. And fucking me right in the ass. School and car and money and housing are all mutating to become this horrid uber-beast invading my head at all hours. Fuck I'll be glad when October rolls around and some things are cleared up for me. Fucking fuckity fuck.
Mon, Aug 27/01 1:21am
Well that was pointless. Just came back from North Bay, I was in search of a place to live. I almost had one, a good place that was pretty cheap, but it slipped away from me. Great. But then there was the ride home right after that disappointment. I'm drivin' and I'm drivin', right around Gravenhurst or some other bum-fuck place like that, and I get the 'check engine' light. And I flashed back to warped tour last year when I lost my keys outside of Barrie, because it was the same stretch of road. But, I stuck to 100kph and under and made it back, so I really can't complain. But I mean, fucking hell. What the fuck do I have to do to catch a break some days, you know? So I don't know. I'll call the school tomorrow and get on the rez waiting list and hope like hell. I mean, I can live with Chris for a month, but after that...? Geez, I'll say it again as I've been saying since I got up... what a fucking day. Time to find some porn, beat off and hope for a better day tomorrow.
Wed, Aug 22/01 7:40pm
Whew. What a week it's been. I haven't gotten a fuck of a lot of rest since... I don't know, maybe last Tuesday or Wednesday. It's just been one thing or another, and most nights it's been Melissa taking up my time. She's only got a couple days left, and all she's wanted to really do is hang out here, which has been fine with me, really. Thing is, she stays over. And that's good, but tiring. No no, not like that, you jerks. Well, kind of. But the other night... night before last, that was bad news. I was comfortably dozing off, it was around 1 or so when she sat up. Just sat up, I figured she was going to take a piss or something, but no, she just sat up and sat there, looking out the window. Fuck, I thought, this can't be good. And I was right, it wasn't. There was a big crying jag which was no fun at all, and lasted too long and was much more of a hassle then it should have been. And it left us both tired out and uncomfortable as a bonus, hooray! I guess I gotta call her back tonight...
Sooo. You know what's a lot of fun? Hearing conversations you aren't supposed to hear. Yesterday I picked up a conversation between Catherine and Murray my bosses, and they were talking about me and Chicken-Man. I was in the staff room next door with one of the cool camp kids, Becca, because she was bored with the movie we were watching in the other room... and I needed to lay down and possibly nap. That was the hope, anyhow. When Becca came in and asked if she could stick around I said sure, because she's one of our star kids and keeping her happy is just that easy sometimes. So Murray and Catherine arrive, assuming everyone is in the theatre space watching the movie, not realizing that next door Becca and I are just chillin', reading and such. Lo and behold, they started a little jibber jabber about good old me. Me and Chicken-Man. Seems Murray all of a sudden is on the outs with the Chicken-Man persona, the fun and crazy, spontaneous as fuck kind of guy that he is for some odd reason. And up til that point, he was fine with him. Strange? Not really, take note as I explain. Murray had said that he'd heard from some kids that Chicken-Man scared and disturbed the kids. Oh? Oh. He'd heard that maybe he actually was out of control, and that Chicken-Man actually scared him a little, because he'd 'noticed the change that takes place' when I put on the Chicken-Man suit and was more than a little disturbed by it. Oh? Oh. You know Murray, that's pretty interesting. Why? I'll tell you why. A) Even though Murray is getting paid by the theatre... paid paid paid part time... he's never fucking there. He shows up for a half hour at the end of the fucking day to take his little princess to work at her other job. Damn Allie. But she's a whole different paragraph, I'm talking about her daddy. Another reason he has no clue is that he hasn't even seen Chicken-Man since... ohh, since before camp started... WAY before. Add in that he hasn't talked to ANY of the kids about anything (besides the grads who ALL hated him with a passion because of his harsh overcriticism of their show) and you've got quite a blend of bullshit there. A thick stream of bullshit that streams DIRECTLY... from his princess daughter who HATES Chicken-Man. Why does she hate him? Because he speaks the truth. And she's not a person who responds well to that. I suppose the last straw was last time they were on stage together. They were doing improv, in a scene that started with the words, 'Robots are our masters'. Well, Chicken-Man, who double entendre's fucking EVERYTHING, got into that one quite well saying how well she'd be able to blend in with the robots if she acted, 'cold, emotionless and icy... you know, like you always do'. Haha, fuck I'm laughing about it again. That poor girl. She comes to every battle of wits so very unarmed. So yes... the words Murray said sounded suspiciously like words Allie would yip to her dad. *Hypothetically*, of course of course. Yeah right, and I'm a Chinese jet pilot, as Ash would say. So I heard all of Murrays slanderous remarks... and so did Becca, of course, and then I heard him become a totally different person as I went in and talked to him once he was thoroughly done with bashing me and Chicken-Man. Huge 160 degree turn. Complete complementative nice guy. What a vicious, two-faced fuck. But I did enjoy the experience... you can learn so much about people listening to what you're never supposed to hear. Even more than hearing it from the other person involved in the conversation, because they spare you some of the details. The best part though, was Catherine. She stuck up for us the whole time. The whole damn time. That... that just felt so good.
Sat, Aug 18/01 3:11pm
Ahhh. I'm so tired. The combination of camp on Thursday and then staying over at the theatre on Thursday night (with the Evil Dead and Army of Darkness), camp all day Friday, the Kingdom all Friday night (and yes, those two girls were back at me, yum yum... oh, and they were playing Evil Dead 2 there... weird, no?) and then staying up past the point of passing out to be on the phone with Melissa, wait no... there's still more... not enough sleep and working on drywall with my fucking oafish dad... and now here I am. It's hard for me to think that he has any idea at all, my dad that is. One of the office attendence questions the staff at camp always gives each other was 'if you could have someone else live a day of your life, who would it be?' Well that was pretty easy... my dad. Then he'd realize how irritating he is and how much nothing I *don't* do, in reality. I run myself fucking ragged some weeks, and then I have to deal with his carpentry incompetence on the weekend? Fuck! Why he can't just avoid the whole struggle of putting up enormous 10 foot sheets of drywall and just add them in managagle 5 foot sections, I don't know. And plus, that way he could do it *himself*.
So this weekend I was supposed to actually be in North Bay, but that didn't quite work out, so I've been trying to make the best of it and I should end up going next weekend, which I'm sure will be highly fucking effective in finding a place to live. Oh well. I just need my damn brakes to work and I'll be in business! That's it! Ugh. But I digress. I pretty much maximize last night, Kingdom and then making that phone call at 2:30 in the morning afterwards, which lasted near an hour and a half, I think. I can't be sure, I was kind of hazy at the end of it. But it was pretty good, instilled me with some confidence about the situation. I called Catherine today about doing the show in Paris tonight and the first thing she said was 'Did you call Melissa yet? I guess she was freaking out on Jane because she was really afraid you weren't going to and hadn't yet.' My basic thought on that was 'cool!' It's strange feeling like I'm almost in control. It's weird, the way Melissa acts you'd think she'd be the one calling the shots, especially because I like to avoid doing so on such matters, but I'm making myself step up to the plate on this one. I guess I just don't want to say I ever blew a second chance. So I'll call her tomorrow and see if I can nibble her tattoo a little. Whoa, where did that come from?
Friday, Aug 17/01 2:31am
Yippy skippy. So check it, yo. Here I am at the theatre, waiting on Ryan the Jerk King. Now, I give him such a name and he enjoys it, it's not an insult. Insult Ryan? Come on now, the dude's a saint. But anyhow, Matt and I have had some intense hockey with the Blades of Steel on the old school NES I've kept out here. And we watched Evil Dead and Army of Darkness... we tried to rent Evil Dead 2, but the fucking movie wasn't in any of the stores we went to, so we had to skip to the last one from the first one, which was disheartening, but oh well.
But hey, rewind to a couple of days ago with me now. Umm, Tuesday? Yes, Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday after work's all done but the cryin', I'm wandering around the theatre and pop into the office, and there's Jane and her friend Melissa, who I somewhat knew from high school years ago. The poor girl had something of a crush on me in those years. Wait, did I say had? 'Has' is a more appropriate word, really. We went out after work to a bar and eatery where Melissa and I spent most of the night in conversation and contact at the outside bar. After that, around midnight, most of us buggered out to Jane's grandmothers farm type deal, made a fire and enjoyed the clear night. Melissa, of course, was enjoying it from the warm comfort of being nestled in my arms under the crescent moon. I'll spare the other details of the encounter... and move on to last night.
Last night was the show for the camp's grad group. We set up for the show, ran the show, and Jane and Melissa showed up to watch with all the parents. And then Melissa came out with us afterward, and was the only one who didn't blend in since the rest of us had all been working on the show and were in our blacks. We went out to the bar I worked at way back when, Matt, Ryan, Catherine, Melissa and I did. One by one we went our separate ways, but Catherine suggested that I drive her home and take the car back to my place for the night, and that way I could take Melissa back at whim.
Well, that didn't quite work out as thought. Melissa didn't end up going home, and stayed over for the night and I brought her back the next morning, todays morning. She was a pleasant surprise for Catherine, who in the car in public always pleads that she doesn't need to know anything, but of course in private always wants to know any and all details about everything. She's so funny, such a gossip. Hmn. I'd like to add more, but ehn... I also feel like I should end here. And plus, I'm Matt is starting to find some good questions in the If book, and Ryan the Jerk King should be here any time. So yeah, that's it. I'm content at the moment.
Tues, Aug 14/01 12:56am
Okay, long stories short. Friday night: out at the Kingdom with Matt, Ken, Hoover, his chick Stef, and Ron. Oh laws yes. Out at the club Friday night... I started a mosh pit with a half dozen guys who were about thrice my size and was *still* a dominant force... I scared the hell out of all my friends who thought I was going to get thrashed. But before that, I was dancing with girls girls girls, and at one point two were griding me at once. Two nice freak looking girls. At once. Did I mention the two hot girls at once? And that was just Friday. An exhausting Friday. Then Saturday morning... that came way too early. Warped was good, again, but the third time wasn't the charm. The sound in Skydome was TERRIBLE. Three separate noisy bands all overlapping AND echoing. Ugh. But I found a few different sects of people I knew, including a dude from BC, people from Windsor and others from Brantford. And of course, the old ex Dirtmonster, with whom I had a little sing a long with to Vandals tunes like, 'My Girlfriends Dead', and 'the New You'. And whatever may be wrong with other aspects of Warped, it's *always* a great place to scope out the hottest of the hot girls. Pussy, oh glorious pussy. I had wood straight on until today. So regardless of the bad sound, I had a decent time with Hoover anyhow. After Warped, came home, crashed, woke up, went for more. Went out Sunday night with all the boys (except Frank and Ron... even Justin and Joel came out) and played some full contact basketball, which was fantastic.
Umm, I don't know what else to say... Mary's back, but that's no surprise now is it? Officially she was out on Friday. Yuh huh, bravo dad. I gotta think about all the girls from the weekend and beat off now before that bitch depresses me, okay? Okay.
Tues, Aug 7/01 12:29am
Murder with an excuse, that's all I'm asking for. How is that not a suitable request? I should at least be able to lobby my cause. Who would I kill? Mary, of course. Who is BACK. I fielded a phone call earlier in the evening that I should tell my dad that 'Mary is on her way back from vacation'. 'Back?' I said to myself... back to Brantford or... back to my HOUSE? Well, the answer is clear now, now that I've gone out with Ken and Doug and Zoey and enjoyed the evening... HERE, of course. I come in to the LOCKED house, and there she is, sitting on the floor at the side of my dads chair like some kind of retarded cocker spaniel. I was listening, for a little while, for some kind of gem of hope that he'd just suddenly snap to his senses and you know, not let back in the whoring bitch who wet her pants, shit on the floor, made him lose sleep every night with drunken arguing and ultimately sent him to the hospital for life-altering surgery. You'd think that would be a simple kind of choice, wouldn't you? Well, for anyone with a brain stem, yeah. No, you know what... I can't even say that. I can't even joke about how honestly stupid my father is being and has been with her. It's beyond reason and it's beyond belief and I'm sick of it. I'm also disturbed that I could have been born from what he and my mother put together, I am more than a sum of my parts and parents. I can't just simplify this one down into some kind of catchphrase like, 'Common sense just isn't that common' or something, because this is pathetic and BEYOND. It'd be such a great lesson to learn if I was younger too... 'just be a drunken slob willing to give up some loose poon-tang once in a while and some poor idiot will take care of you unfalteringly.' Now isn't that fantastic? PATHETIC AND BEYOND.
Sun, Aug 5/01 2:59am
"Yeah sure Doug, going out to a local show... that sounds good."
Little did I know that Boots would be there, and I would have to stay relatively sober, being the one with the wheels. Okay, sure, that was fine. I was actually thinking maybe I'd go over and yip n' yap with her (it's something I've been working on and wanting to do, being sociable to people even though I don't have to) for a moment or two, as not to appear like a snubbing jackass. Sure, sounds good... oh wait, who's that guy she's making out with? Ah, dammit. Ferrrget it. I'll just wave next time she looks over. What the fuck, whenever I catch her looking at me she snaps her head a different way. Ugh.
Yeah, so that went on for a while, til finally I caught her gaze long enough to wave so she'd notice, and I caught a polite wave back.
And for some reason, I felt angry. No wait, that's not true. It was more like fury. Not quite rage, but definitely fury. Doug and I found some other people we know, like Drew, who is everywhere and poured me a beer from his pitcher, and Lauren, who has sadly reached her hotness peak and is now very slowly declining with her drab, hippy clothing and long, long hair. (and my God, I just pulled out a nose hair that was longer than most of the hairs on my arm... that thing must have started in my brain) But I gave her my number regardless, maybe I can help her back to her old glory. But yeah, fury. Fury. It was just the pinaccle of the time I've had off, you know? I thought up a great name for a poem that I'll write later called, "Mary, Heart Attacks and You." I wish it could be the name of something affectionate, but I fear that won't be the case. Actually, I know it won't, unless I write two pieces with the same name. Which I may do. Oh, and something that added to my fury... it was supposed to be a fucking punk show. And you know, looking around at who was there and the attitude that was there... *I* was crusty. Yeah, I was looking like the hardcore-est guy in the damn place. And that fucking sucks, because I didn't even go all out tonight. What the hell fun is a punk show, WITHOUT THE FUCKING PUNKS!? Without looking like a jerky bastard!? What fun is that? At a good show you can say to someone you're with, "Hey, I'm going to go over and talk to Jake for a minute," and they'll say, "Jake?" and you'll say, "Yeah, the guy with the lime green mohawk over there," and they'll say, "That guy?" and you'll say, "No, that's forest green, the lime green one." See, but here you'd be like, "Oh, I'm going to talk to Jake," "Jake?" "The guy in the khakis." "Which guy in the khakis?" "With the sandals." "Which guy with khakis and sandals?"
Fuck! At one point I had to take count. *The Band* of the night, the Vermicious Knid was playing (and I wasn't impressed, I was way more impressed with 'gaffer', an earlier band) and lined up at the front were Abercrombie, Fitch, Mr. and Mrs. Gap along with their buddy Old Navy. There were 4 guys and 4 girls, all just standing there, definitely NOT about to break into a mosh. Fuck, how many pairs of sandals did I see? I can't remember... I think 5. 5 in a crowd of 8. Ugh. A punk without a scene, I am. Kind of like a wandering knight without a lord. Thank God Warped is on Saturday, oh, and that I'm going to the Kingdom on Friday. Ahh, that's soothing. Warped is going to be great, I'm going to LIVE in the fucking pit. Well of course, except for the crap bands like Alien Ant Farm, and I'll feel like splitting for H20 and most of the Bouncing Souls. Bruises, here I come! Fuck yeah!
Oh yeah, the rest of the night. Well, I sat through the Knid, took Doug home and went out to the theatre to vent. It's so good to have a big open space where no one can hear you at your disposal for when you're super-pissed. I put some tool on the wonderful stereo and just wandered around thinking, smacking shit and thinking. And sitting and thinking. And smoking a cigar and drinking Sprite and thinking. And things didn't turn out too bad, in the end. I'm just really lost in a bunch of things is all. People are crazy and times are strange, as they say. They being Bob Dylan (ps, if you know the name of the Dylan song with those lyrics in it, LET ME KNOW!). So the disc was over and I came home and told my sister to never find out who the Vermicious Knid is, and came on here, suffering through one computer crash that I was prepated for.
And now in conclusion, I was really hoping when I saw Boots that she'd be single, really horny and in the mood for me. I need a booty call. Booty Call in Brantford, now that sounds like a great movie.
Fri, Aug 3/01 12:38pm
So... you're on the back deck, starting a fine day of staring? And you're still in your bathrobe, Mary? Well heck, it IS time for a beer then. The only question is, how many have you had before I even got up?
Wed, Aug 1/01 11:47pm
I don't have nearly enough nocturnal friends. Because right now, I could so go for some heavy drinking and vandalism. Stupid decisions, stupid FUCKING decisions. And you know, if it was someone else this would totally be funny. Like, I expect my friends to find no end to the humour of my life and family, parents especially. If they don't, there's something wrong with them. One of the most laughable parts of this is that all day my dad's been wandering around going, "She keeps saying 'I got a proposition for you, I got a proposition for you', and I keep telling here there's no way she's coming back living here. She says, 'I'll give you money, I'll give you money,' but no fucking way, no way." Geez, my dad is Jacob Two-Two, holy shit. Jacob Two-Two, all grown up with a shitty job and a light case of alcoholism. Wow. But anyhow, yeah... he's been saying that all day, and I think all of yesterday too (I try not to pay too much attention to his repetitiveness) and then not a half hour ago he hands me that trash. Way to let down the team, fucknutz. Way to get drunk and just go with it. And what can I do? Oh, NOTHING. I still have that bitch's key, so there won't be an issue with that. Oh fuck, I'm just wishing now that I hadn't given him the money I did today... I gave the fucker $100 for his damned money whining... shit. If only I'd waited a day I'd still have that $100 for my own. Shit. Now it just feels like totally lost money... like when you reach into your pocket and swear there was a five dollar bill there a couple of minutes ago... well just multiply that feeling by 20. God, I can smell the alcohol from here too. I wish Catherine would pop up online, she'd go out and have a drink with me, but she's probably out in Putnam doing something or other. I probably won't be able to complain to her about this til Monday, lucky her. But... Mary will be gone by then, according to my dad, so there just won't be any issue at all. Uh huh. Sure. Maybe I'll just say on Monday night... "Hey dad, I'm going to work tomorrow morning. If I come home to Mary, I'm calling the cops, okay?" I wonder if that would work at all. Such a nasty dull, throbbing rage all this fills me with. Why why why? If I was getting regular sex this might not bother me so much, but I'm fucking strung out over here. I need some vicious, furious, aggressive sex. Scratching, biting and clawing sex. I mean, I've got enough shit on my mind, what with school, housing in September, my car, my job, relationships and balancing my cash while fighting off my dad for it. Now lets add Mary back into things! Hip hip whore-ay!
And the day started out so well... I got my leather wristband off ebay in the mail, and that was goooood. And I went to the mall for the aforementioned money, and I looked goooood. And I bought Animal Farm for like $9 and read it all this afternoon with almost no interruptions and that was gooood. And Matt called me and that was also goooood. Fucking fuckhead fucked up fucks. Fuck.
Wed, Aug 1/01 11:19pm
So I'm sitting in my room, no big surprise there. I'm playing a little Unreal Tournament.
In pops my dads head:
"Heyyy..."
He's somewhat drunk. No big surprise there.
"You... you want some potatoes and a pork chop?"
'It's 11 at night,' I'm thinking.
"Uh... sure?" I say.
*poof* Potatoes and a pork chop. Not bad.
"So..."
Uh oh.
"So uh, Mary gave me some money and she's going to stay here, *just for a couple of days*, okay."
"Well... no."
"It won't be any longer that a couple of days."
"Yeah, fine, sure. I completely believe you."
"Really Johnny, that's all it'll be..."
Fuck. Well, there goes the REST of my fucking summer.
Supercalifragilisticexpialofuckingdocious.