give a fuck? me neither

Tomorrow I am taking part in Del's 13th Annual group exibition.

It's in Scarborough. The ultimate success will be me not getting mugged.

If you really, really feel like coming, the show is located at 275 Bangurgh Circle, Scarborough Ontario. I'm bringing my best friend to help set up and drink coffee together. Other than that, it's just an opportunity for me to kiss babies and sling bullshit.

race to sleep

On any given day I couldn't care less about telling stories about dreams, or hearing about peoples dreams. It's never really interested me, and why should it? It never happened, and probably never will. Although some dreams are just hilarious, why should other people care about my or your subconscious? This is probably the same reason why I never read fiction novels. I crave knowledge, and although I have a very vivid imagination, I don't really put a lot of interest into things that will never occur. Is that lame? Maybe.

Well, today is not one of those days because I have two dreams I simply have to get off my chest.

The other night I dreamt that I was walking the streets with Bike. It was later in the evening and we were just out for a stroll. I noticed one woman really checking me out and following us. This woman looked exactly like Jen from Hells Kitchen.
Yes, that Jen. Except she was a TTC employee and on her name tag it read CLING. I have no idea what that means, but moving along. We talked and she was being really touchy and inappropriate. I threatened to call the TTC office and report her behavior, but she was persistent. We began walking quickly through some mall and she was running after us! I was honestly terrified. We thought we'd lost her in some backyard, until I got smoked in the head by a can of Five-Alive. It was CLING, once again.
The strangest part about this dream wasn't really about sex-hungry TTC employees, but rather citrus fruit. Every time we thought we'd outrun her, I was assaulted by a flying piece of citrus fruit. That is the jist of that dream.

Now, the next dream is more of a personal nightmare. Some very close friends, especially my band, know about this dream because it scares the shit out of me. I have it about once a month and it never gets any better. I dream that my drums slide away from me while performing in front of large groups of people.

Basically, try to imagine playing the drums on top of a sheet of ice and every time you hit something it slides further and further away from you. Not only this, but everything is at really strange heights. Cymbals will be nearly eight feet in the air and my snare drum will be five feet to the left. I never play my drum kit, and something terrible always happens. During last nights dream I just gave up during a performance and decided sing a solo version of Oh Come All Ye Faithful acapella, except with tonnes of delay on my vocals, which sounded terrible and nobody clapped.

I wish I could express how much I hate these dreams. The funny thing is, I've experienced things like this when playing in reality. I remember when opening for The Spades last year, my kick drum (the big one) slid around the stage to the point where I couldn't even produce sound from it because it wasn't attached to the pedal. I would have to pull this 50-pound beast back to me at every chance, even mid-song.
And that is that.

a new low

I currently sit in front of my television watching something that I think is quite historical. I am watching Hulk Hogans Celebrity Wrestling, and it's the worst show that has ever aired on television.

The Lowdown: This is a reality show that basically revolves around washed up actors/musicians/athletes and radio jockeys. The goal of the show is to impress the Hulk and his panel of southern brothers. These wrestlers act out the stupidest wrestling sequences I've ever seen, all for the smallest amount of pride you can imagine

The Good: The Hulk is more orange than a tangerine, and you get to watch the worst celebs on the planet kick each others asses and lose all self respect.

The Bad: Everything. In the first ten minutes I'd never felt so violated mentally. I just saw Danny Bonaduce body slam a girl, right before he got leveled by the 400 pound boxer Butter Bean. I'm currently watching a match between Dennis Rodman and Dustin Diamond, aka Screech. This is ridiculous. And the worst part is that they look to the Hulk for approval after every body slam, in hopes that they won't get eliminated and be called a "jobroney" on national tele. Another crap thing is that, for some reason, the show didn't spring for the audience cheering sound effects, so the entire show has this weird quietness that just shows how unenlightening it really is. This show only furthers the fact that entertainment as we know it has hit an all time low. Nothing is new, everything is dumb, brother!

Selloutmania!

everybody poos

While taking a shit today, I began to wonder who else was shitting at that same moment. Then I began to laugh, because I started thinking about celebrities shitting. After cycling through about a dozen shit-lebrities, I laughed hardest at the thought of Victoria Beckham shitting.

Think about it.

Posh Spice pinching off a huge loaf? Haaaahahaa!! I'm trying to imagine her struggling-poo face.

I'll try to think of some more funny ones.

Nicole Kidman, Ghandi, and Bruce Wayne are all funny too.