erm...die?

croupier_zoom

Subject:	butt babies
Time:	5:23 am.
Mood:	goober.

After being delayed two days in charles de gaul, I am in mOntreal, canada with mother dearest staying with a fmaily i stayed with when I was ten. They were evangelical then but seem to have mellowed out.

Today I visited Maria's old lady friend in her retirement home which was no where near as depressing as I thought it would be. She had a plush little room and the only bad thing she mentioned (apart from the loss of her memory / faculties and continence (is that a word?)) was this old Alzheimers hitler guy who bosses people around, steals her chair and pushes old ladies over. He is further proof to me that if you live mean you die mean, maybe thats not as profound as it sounded in my head. She showed us her diary from the last year and it was really fascinating. It zipped back and forth through time, into imaginary worlds and all kinds of paranoid avenues.
New years always makes me feel weird. The old folks home, the arrival of the future and the foreignity of montreal will probably make me pensive and depressed. Maybe not though. There are only so many times you can shake peoples hands and introduce yourself sincerely.

I am reading Words by Jean Paul Sartre (not by choice - it was one of the only appealing books in the house) but it's kindof excellent. Super-pretentious and angsty in tone, he's like Freud in the way that he thinks his own mental space mirrors the rest of the world when really it's kindof skewed. All this wonderful trivia about his childhood makes him so much more appealing than he was in the dry dry philosophy lessons of year 11.

the opening sequence of Up again nearly brought a tear to my eye and a warm ember to my cold cold heart so I went off and made a lousy chicken and sweet potatoe dish with a cream cheese, walnut and coriander pesto dumped on top of it. It sucked.

It is minus 20 degrees here. The coldest I have ever been. Literally 45 seconds into smoking a cigarette I was forced to go back inside. We went for a drink at a sports bar and it was all nice until someone started talking about the war. Whenever anyone talks about the war it usually becomes a factual pissing contest and I started drinking more and lying to amuse myself. Then when I got home I was totally pissed and read two thirds of the tenth of those stupid series of unfortunate events books until 7am which, coupled with the tylenol (thats more than a normal painkiller right?), was probably what made next days chicken so shit.

Me and patrick are going to a party tonight. There'll be a girl there who bears a striking resemblance to Quentin Tarentino. There's two chicken pies in the oven. I really want some weed but I think I'll quit for a while. maybe it'll help get rid of this second puberty / menopause I seem to be in the midst of.

P.s - All views expressed in the last entry were a result of a sleeping pill taken shortly before writing.

-----------------------------

I have scratches allover my face and two big stupid grazes on my face. I threw up in the sink after 15 beers. I lost because he had more at stake. the chicken pie was good. They made fun of my english accents and called eachother butt heads and morons the whole time. over all it was an average news.

2 * You got me trippin!! It's just one thing

Advertisement