Friday, March 20, 2009

T Minus...oh, shit.

Know what I like?

I'll tell you what I like.

I like banana seats. Today I rode my Schwinn around downtown for the last time for a while. It was spectacular.

Know what I don't like?

Stuffing my Pumas into my mouth.

Rode my Schwinn downtown to meet up with some friends, and locked it to the gate of the establishment at which we were meeting. This place is directly adjacent to a 4-5 story apartment building, and from past visits to the afore mentioned locale, I knew that this particular apt. building was full of...let's just say 'characters.' After a beer, a few cigarettes, and a game of Video Titty Hunt*, I decided to scat.

When I arrived at the scene, my bike was right where I left it, except no there was a disabled gentleman...uhm...parked right next to it. Can I just say 'guy in a wheelchair'? N E weighs, I've chit-chatted this guy up before. Nice guy. I'd go so far as to say a jokester. Keep in mind this gentleman, from what I could only assume, doesn't remember any prior conversations.

"How's it going?"

"Fine," he says.

As I approach my Schwinn.....Fuck, I can't believe I actually said this:

"Uhm, you weren't trying to hot-wire my bike, were ya?"

Cuz it's funny, ya know? Hot-wire a bike? Why, sir, that is bullocks. There's no ignition, no engine, no wires, no other stuff you need to hot-wire something else. I don't know how, so far all I know he COULD'VE been hot-wiring my bike. Funny, no? Ridiculous, at least...

Dude's in a wheelchair.

He smiled and kinda chuckled. That might have been the crack, however. Hopefully it was, so he won't remember that douche-bag that thought he was stealing a bike.

Now I'm unlocking my bike, and ka-blam, it hits me. I'm one of those people that other people hate. Ignorant. Stupid. And above all, uncaring.

"Have a nice day, freak." The words, they spew forth, relentlessly and without haste.

No, I didn't say that. I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to say? I could've said, 'Sorry, pal. He's a Ben Franklin. Go getcha summin nice.' It wouldn't have mattered what I said. Anything I said would have come out:

"Have a nice day, freak."

God, I hope that guy was high on crack.

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*Video Titty Hunt: A touch sensitive game in which players** find 5 subtle differences between two versions of the same nude, lewd, and rude picture. If you haven't played, it's much more difficult than you think, and more gross than it sounds.

**Bobby Fischer is to Chess as Josh Henderson*** is to Titty Hunt. Not that Josh couldn't do perfectly fine with pictures of dolphins, or Nissans, but...just saying.

***Superior to Ryan Segal at this game. Again, just saying...

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For fear of jinxing something (maybe I just did?!), I'm not going to mention anything about the happenings tomorrow...today...fuck...I need to finish packing.

I mean, drunk would be preferable, but at least crack. Oh, how sweet would it be if he was just fucking crazy, huh?

I'm going to hell. I hope they have tasty Pumas.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

First Bloog: Part 1

Yeah, that's right...it's Jonny's bloog! I've been wanted to start one of these for a while, and Henderstein just published one, and you know how much I like to follow him everywhere. Prolly due to the sweet ass.

Hmmm...I really started this to keep up with friends and family whilst living in Toon Town, or rather so they can keep up with me. I love my family dearly, much more than they could know, and far more than I've expressed. But, after thinking about what to say, talk about, and bloog about, I decided that there's no fucking way in Christ that I'm going to let my highly religious, ultra-conservative family know what their son, brother, and uncle have been up to...

Family and friends, please visit my other, child/jesus-friendly bloog: www.jesusismyspringerfork.blogger.com

Well, I leave on Friday...what's today, Tuesday? It's going to be a rather long trip...it usually is. The only thing to look forward to is a 6 hour layover in Vegas, which really, unless you are a resident of Las Vegas or Nevada, ANY amount of time in that hell-hole should be considered a layover.

Then, on to Calgary, where I'm sure to be hassled by Border Patrol and Custom Agents, up my ass with a flashlight, trying desperately to find something, ANYTHING to give me grief about.

"This your toothbrush? Who else has been using it?" God, nobody I hope, but I really can't say for sure. Why don't you wipe it off with one of your swabs then toss that bitch in the garbage, cuz I'll be damned if I'm going to use it after your grubby hands have been all over it. Better yet, hang on to that. Ball sweat is not the easiest of films to wash out of your mouth, eh?

Then, onto Saskatoon, home sweet home. I can't wait. It's going to be unbelievable in a very big way. It's been so long since I've wanted to get out of the country and be with April, not in that order.

Well, It's St. Patty's Day, I'm not wearing green, and should consider smoking a cigarette before starting work. Ah, cigarettes...I'll miss you most of all. More on that later.

Later.