I've got hell bound banshees on my trail

I'm haunted by goth girls. It's like some sort of fucking disease that I can't shake. I was thinking about it on the way into work this morning. I was listening to an old compilation cd of stuff from napster and there was this song called "goth girl" by some old 80s british band. That set off this whole train of though about what about them attracts me like a moth to a flame. A moth who would plunge directly into said flame, killing itself. White skin, black clothes, the occasional tattoo, black hair and skinny and sharp edged as can be. It flicks some sort of switch in my brain and I can't fight it. Nor do I want to. It is in my opinion most definitely a fetish in every sense of the word. I hate it, I love it. I can't do without it.

And who should follow me off the bus and into the building this morning? That cute french goth chick from the other department. I know how Robert Johnson felt when he had hell hounds on his trail.

I love my girl with all my heart. She embodies beauty and all things good to me. But dam those goth chicks get me hard.

Another freakout observed on my way to work this morning. At the corner by the skytrain I take is a company called "Trades Labour Company" which is a temp agency for workers. They line up every morning with their boots and hardhats and hope someone will hire them for the day to shovel shit or pound nails into boards. Or if they have the right papers, wire houses or do metal work for a little more that minimum wage. I admire them, they are there to work and earn their keep. It's all sorts waiting there in the rain every morning. Old men, young men, poor ragged drunks, clean cut immigrants. Even a clean cut young drunk or two. One of each.

So this morning this guy who looked like he'd be someone's young grandfather (about 52) is coming across the street towards me swinging his thermos and swearing up a storm. Then he proceeds to kick the living shit out of the pedestrian crossing light pole. Even with steel toe boots, that would hurt the feet. He was really going to town on the thing, trying to kick off the little walk button. And was kicking pretty high as well, must have had some karate classes in the past or something.

I guess they wouldn't give him work today. He wanted to work. He needs the money. He wanted to work. I admire him and his anger. He wanted to earn his keep.

It is still raining.

It's 5:51AM, I've been here at work since about 5:27AM. And I'll be here till 5:30PM. Let's all have a pity party for me. How's your day?

"You smell like your mom."

Debb was doing online, chat-based tech support a few years ago. I'm making up the technical details here because I don't remember them properly, but essentially, a user entered the help room and asked a question and the chat went something like this:

[user] how do i leave the program
[debb] Type "quit" at the prompt.
[user] where's the kyu
[debb] Pardon me?
[user] how do i type "kyu"

Debb stares at the screen for a moment and considers this. She responds:

[debb] It's next to the W and over the A.
[user] ok thanks

Then the user left.

So I'm walking to work this morning in the pitch black (it was 6:30AM) and a thick fog (one block visibility). And this 20 something kid with a ballcap and a bag of McDonald's food is screaming his ass off at someone down the street (or invisible tormentors, not sure which at this point).

So I walk by him, clutching my umbrella to be used as a weapon at the first chance. I'm even imagining my first stance and open attack technique. But I walk by safely to the north, he heads south. A block later he comes running by at full tilt, making a clomp clomp noise that only rubber boots can. Ah....rubber boots. Remember getting your foot stuck in the muck behind the school? Remember trying to use the hockey rink boards as boats?

So then about half a block in front of me he proceeds to spike the bag of McDonald's food into the pavement and start screaming at someone again. I noticed that included in the food now being run over by traffic was two apple turnovers. Then he runs back past me again. I walk carefully making sure to casually look behind me once and a while.

On what little evidence I have, it looked like a lover's spat between two young gay men. And he had bought breakfest for the other, but love was jilted. Those two poor poor bastards. I really feel for them both. It must be rough to be a run over turn over.

I just mailed in my application to the Academy of Interactive Arts and Sciences. If accepted, I will become a voter.

That's just cool.

One more step and I'm in the Grammy's as well.

Sullivan Waits Fan Page

I made this fan page because he deserves it. And then in 10 or 12 years I can say I was the first. Check it out, this guy is the shit.

Road Penn

This is the method Penn of "Penn & Teller" uses when going through the metal detector at the airport. If asked to step aside to be checked with the metal detector wand after passing through the walkthrough one, he simplies asks the wand holder "If I didn't set off the detector where do I go?" and they dismiss him and he walks on.

Brilliant. Dangerous, but brilliant.

I had a dream last night that I finally had the proof that the word "coffee" is also a verb. About 10 years ago my landlord to-be asked me if I was "trying to coffee him down" by offering less rent. I guess that use of the word has been bothering me ever since. I don't remember the details of the proof from my dream, but it involved something about how the root is from "cof" or "con"?

Fuck if I know.

2003 huh?

resolutions then.

last years list:

booze
listen
diet
music
meditate
exercise
reading
write

this years list:

booze
listen
diet
music
meditate
exercise
reading
write

how am i doing? let's focus on the positives shall we?

i hope i listen better, my new catch phrase is "i hear ya", debbie gives me listening lessons

my diet has improved dramatically in the last year. lite beer, no junk food and almost no red meat and I'm a soy freak

i'm still doing yoga on weekdays which covers exercise and meditate a little

i just finished neal young's bio, which counts big time. and about 6 other books last year

i'm writing this aren't i? that counts.

to improve upon:
no more beer, play the shak and work in the studio, and get outside once and while.

that would be good, that would improve my year.

hope your's improves too.