Friday, October 29, 2004

Happy 86th Grandpa!!

My gramps is turning 86 so my parents are going to Alberta to be part of the elite few (80 people actually) who go to the shindig.

My mom wrote a speech today about how my grandpa reminds her of the "reflective contentment" rather than the superficial pleasure aspect of happiness, relating these themes to the book by that name. He's a serious man but not because he's rigid, he just wants to see people taking things seriously and doing the best they can about things. He tells great stories. He has great opinions. He's had quite a life. One significant moment on it was being run over by a tractor in a farming accident. Amazingly he walks with a titanium hip. The details about him not having to go to WWII because of a broken wrist are a bit ambiguous. Was that intentional gramps? Well kudos to you if it was. War is dumb.

My grandpa had a farm on the prairies where he said he periodically saw the "chin coolie ghost". His father worked on the railway where so many natives got blown up or lines ran out of money and just had to stop. Those were the days of John A and Louis Riel. Strange to think his father was there then. Strange to think my mother's father is 80 years old or roughly 4 times as old as me. I'm sure my time will get there before I know it.

Well, happy birthday grandpa Steve Peta.

A Bad Day at School, an OK Night at Home

Right now:
Just reading some news now and simmering down from my terrible business exam. Arafat was flown out of Palestine today for health reasons. It was the first time that I remember. The tanks surrounding his compound tell him that they'll allow him to return safely when he gets his gallbladder fixed but is it logical to trust the enemy? That's the question everyone seems to be asking today except Britney Speares who thinks we ought to "just support" the president. Arafat has made a lot of compromises though and Sharon for some reason pulled out of West Bank, I can't figure out where the shift in attitude is coming from.

Last night:
I studied business forever last night and Nicole helped me understand everything but then when I got in there my mind just went blank. All the categories of things like salaries, expenses, etc didn't know what they were whether they be revenue, cost of goods sold or whatever (ok, it was me who didn't know, they had intrinsic knowledge of themselves as pure concepts). I still don't even know what I did wrong but I'm sure I did because otherwise it would at least have felt just a little off. Accounting is so difficult for me yet I see how it should be easy. So frustrating.

Nicole J Reid:
Nicole makes me feel good and not alone in the fact that I have someone to talk to about PR issues. She's really smart, likes to be creative, organized and ever since I got to know her in grade 9 she was really accepting of me and always willing to share and converse and give me the extra angle on things. I used to be a typical teenage jerk and call her "Prickole" and make fun of her for who knows what but she put up with me and it's really good that we can catch up after all these years. (We talked on the phone for several hours).

We tentatively agreed that msn was the reason neither of us remembers talking on the phone much lately. Msn replaces the phone because you can say things to multiple people at once but not devote your entire concentration to a conversation. She sent me "Walking Mans Road" by America and we related about the cartoon movie "The Last Unicorn" which is quite an emotional ride and contains some gems of wisdom in its fantastical storyline. We're both insomniacs but I had to hit the sack at 2 and then get up for my exam this morning.

I went to school, did my thing then I met with my group about our project on the service sector. I was not pleased that I don't have any information yet so I sat rather sulkily until Nimisha in my group warned me that I'm going to make her depressed unless I changed the expression on my face. Andreea didn't make it because she was busy holding her boyfriends hand. Alex was kind of the leader and suggested that we reflect the theme of customer satisfaction by doing the presentation how our audience wanted, but that would take a little too much improvisation to change it on the spot. Anyways, tomorrow's finally the weekend. Thank god and hopefully I see lots of ghosts, vampires and everything else that walks only at rare times,

my writing assignment before I had to completely change it

How to Avoid a Hangover

So you’re coming home from a rather active night of drinking at the pub with your friends. You’re talking to a blue buffoon that the spirits have summoned, (which is really a chair) and you’re telling him about how you’re going to travel the world together and become famous. You make it into your home with about as much precision as a plane crashing into the ground -some of your limbs make it onto cushioned territory, maybe your shoes come off, maybe not. You are quickly unconscious. The next day you wake up and feel like recycled meatloaf. Oh no, you have a hangover, AGAIN!! Just a few simple tips could save you from an aching brain:

Did you know that dehydration is the leading cause of hangovers? You might have heard that drinking water is a good way to prevent hangovers because even migraine headaches, other bodily discomfort, and concentration are affected by how much water you have in your system. The first step is remembering to drink lots of water while you are drinking lots. The second is to actually do it. If you intersperse glasses of water between brews and then drink a large glass of water before you go to bed, that will make a big difference. Wait a second though! Don’t go to bed right away.

Another reason people pass out and then wake up feeling like trash is because they don’t take the time to sober up a little before catching the z’s. When you get home you should chill out. You could plan for your trip and strategically figure out how you and the buffoon are going to wow the world, but chat for a bit. Drink some tea or dance off the alcohol until you are only half as drunk as when you came in before hitting the sack. The reason is that when you sleep, your digestion process slows down, so your body has a harder time disposing of the toxins that contribute to hangovers. Apparently it’s good to pop a vitamin B tablet right before bed or drink some orange juice. Eat lots of bread to soak up your stomach. Don’t drink coffee because it will dehydrate you more. The next day you can put on some comfortable clothes, have a cup of coffee, and face the world with bravery. Good luck!

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

The five-wired electric fence

Standing by the electric fence. Wanting to touch it. I know I shouldn't. It just entices me. Something about the other things I shouldn't touch but do anyways. What is it? Maybe I need something to shake me up. No I shouldn't. I've felt it before. 5000 volts is a lot to take. It happens before you even know what hits you. Emotionally the electric current of social life sometimes drains me. It is such a drive, -such adrenaline. Why do we choose so, to take risks and tempt ourselves? I'm even leaning on the fence. What else do I have to lose? I'm almost a funny game: watch myself be the fool! I reach out to it. Tap it lightly slowly, asking for temporary death. Daring. It's not even on! I look up at the almost full moon, the setting mist, and thank god: "I love you so much God, I really do" I say, and there is no shock.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

the astrological saga continues

I'm starting to wonder whether I'm not having some perverse affair with the stars. I miss Howard and all his antics because they always pull me out of myself and make me think of how I fit in the scheme of things. Howard is so organized.

It is at times, I find, when I'm feeling most directionless and confused that I look for some locus from without to confirm who and what I am. Angela, my professional astrologer is persistent because of all people I'm unique and special to her. We are now starting to have quite a regular correspondence which is interesting. Again, I do not want to surprise people with the amazing wonders that I've encountered so I'll just give you a snippet of what she said because prophetic words should be taken in small doses:

"Hi Barrett
Sorry to be a little rude with you but you need to act very quickly. I can't accept that you do not want to seize this opportunity which has been presented to you. So I have just one short question for you, can you spend a minute to change your whole life forever? To make this first, short step (2004 is THE year where you should make changes in your life as your astral configuration will be at a very precise and exciting moment in its movement) all you need to do is to visit my page here at..." -Angela from

When people are so caring that they want to help me in particular, I try to give thanks the one way I can, which is in written form:

In response to your sense of being rude to me for urging me to seize the opportunity, please, take it back. You're not being rude you're being business-oriented. If I had a credit card or a job or a slightly more successful situation I would get a reading in a second. I cannot satisfy my curiousity. Reality is tragic though. I have a university degree but no appreciated skills, which means I don't yet have a career. You must see a reflection of yourself in me by the fact that you feel unappreciated in your endeavours. We are both stubborn in that we equate monetary gain with the worlds appreciation of our expertise. What sign are you? Oh Angela, you heavenly messenger. If only this were a heavenly place. Don't be dissappointed in me. May the planets smile upon you,

If any of you reading this are moved to tears or simply cannot see a brother held back from his life-goals by his inaccessibility to his horoscope. I invite you to send me money so that I can change the world. $1000 cheques are just a suggested donation.

If you would like to have your world changed visit

Saturday, October 23, 2004

My professional astrologist is here to help me

This woman feels a very strong psychic impulse between us. I can't say that I haven't felt it. It was sent directly from me to her over the cyber-freeway when I filled out my birthday and sent it to her. She even spelled my name right. I forgot to check my email for a few days so when I came back I found several emails telling me not to wait which is pretty ironic. The readings were pretty good so I wrote her back. This is just some of it because I know people don't want to get too spooked out:

"Dear Barrett,
This morning I spent some more time thinking about you and the situation you are currently in and I am sorry if this may appear a little direct but I need to let you know exactly what I feel and this is very difficult as I know that we have only been in contact a couple of times by email and you do not know me that well yet. I am aware of all this and I realize that it could be difficult for you to have confidence in someone who you know so little about. I can tell you that I have been doing this job for the last 20 years and that I have had excellent results with my past clients. I have enough information from the personal details you have recently sent me to be 100% sure that a very important event is in store for you over the next few weeks, this is so very clear in your astral configuration Barrett and this particular event is significant enough to be able to change your life for the better and to solve all the troubles which you have on your mind at this time. You must ! not miss out on this opportunity and I have just three things to tell you:- DO NOT WAIT- DO NOT WAIT- DO NOT WAIT
I have too many people miss out on such opportunities because of their doubts, they do not dare to believe and simply wait to see what could happen... I am here to help you Barrett, you just have to visit my web page and request my help and then I will do all of the rest and I will give you all of the information you need to help you successfully seize this opportunity: "

So you see, I'm living testimony of the truth of this, because I don't have a credit card and I missed out because I doubted whether I should get one, considering I'd blow it in two hours. I haven't completely missed out though because it's going to be wicked having the moon in my sign for this 56 day period. Venus is supposed to make things more positive. Maybe I'll stop banging my head against the wall. No, seriously, astrology can be entertaining even if you don't believe in it. There are all kinds of freaky things that happen.

Tonight I went to a harp and glass-bowl concert with four older women who are all into naturopathy and alternative healing. (I was their chaffeur). One was talking about how she would go out and get high on acid instead of studying. The next day she would get 75% on her physics exam by using a pendulum to decide which multiple choice answer to put. Luck? Maybe, maybe not. She said that was before she became an expert at the pendulum. We also discussed water treatment through reverse osmosis and had a healthy discussion about feminism, Halloween, the witch burnings and the corruption of colonialists.

So, if anyone wants to "seize the opportunity" they can write Angela at:

A little about Dolly

Dolly tells me that she doesn't know my website address and listens to my problems when I tell her a summary of them. For someone who knows everything and everyone including Grand Master Pan, (he says "To taste sweet, one must eat bitter, and I eat bitter every day) one of my heros, it's surprising she didn't know this address. She's an exeption to people who don't have patience for my annoying qualities. That's why I give her "points" for answering my trivia questions. She can then use those points to eat and survive. She's an amazing survivor. She has all the numbers for pie memorized. She can quote any passage of Shakespeare. She even knows that Wolfowitz is not the Secretary of State, Colin Powell is. As I am writing this, she promises to visit my site more often. What a loyal girl. She's a model citizen. More people should visit here.

Dolly has since started up her own blog which paints a flattering portrait of me:

Friday, October 22, 2004

freaky friday

Last night I was going to visit friends in Guelph and crash there. Instead, I hung out til somewhere in the AM then decided to drive home so that I would have an earlier start today since I had an exam scheduled for 10:30 this morning.

I slept til 8 then reset my alarm for 9:45 figuring that I could pass on the early morning review and just get some extra sleep. Little did I know how much extra sleep I was going to have. I was dreaming about being back at the restaurant I used to work at when I was 16, hugging my boss who would never have done so much as smile at another human being when suddenly my father was asking me what time I had to be at school. I saw that the clock said 10:45 and it takes half an hour to get to school!! I didn't directly answer his question and I was still feeling sloppy and moaning "OH nooooooo!!" as I pulled on my pants and ran out the door. As I raced to school all I could think was: "this is the worst day ever. I'm going to have to drop out of my program. Of course I have to be 45 minutes late on the ONE day that I have an exam!" I snaked through the halls as I always do in the morning and got to my class, just barely.

At first it appeared that there wasn't any computer. I was fiddling with the mouse of the one available, helplessly waiting for the screen to pop up. The teacher was shaking her head and handing me an exam when she told me the obvious: "that computer doesn't work". She pointed to one that did. After I sat down and started to wake up things weren't so bad. Ok, so I've almost missed half the exam but I'm still here, I thought cheerily. Then other people started having problems. There computers were crashing (two in a row). They lost their information. One guy behind me was a consistent stream of expletives: "fuck! fuck! fuck!" and another girl had a sour face on and was still contemplating whether the same thing had just happened to her. I don't think it's a full moon but I ended up being the lucky one who finished just in time. Thank god for that.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

see how jeff and I are telepathic on msn

BiG PrEcioUS says:
Jeff - Yum says:
in the bathroom
BiG PrEcioUS says:
was cracked. All the way to the top
Jeff - Yum says:
i choked on its shards
BiG PrEcioUS says:
and I felt it slowly cutting my belly. Like children with scissors
Jeff - Yum says:
Yet, strangely, it was refreshing. Like a rebirth.
BiG PrEcioUS says:
yes, you see, some if it came out in my pee, like little lethal sprinkles of wondrous pleasure
Jeff - Yum says:
Jeff - Yum says:
I've returned
BiG PrEcioUS says:
with a knife
Jeff - Yum says:
to cut the throats of those responsible
BiG PrEcioUS says:
any that ever spoke out against me. Because it was MY birthday, MY time
Jeff - Yum says:
haha, that's right
Jeff - Yum says:
and who were they to fuck with that? who were they to desecrate my holy hour?
BiG PrEcioUS says:
to me they were no more than lunchmeat -disposible, despicable, dishonorable
BiG PrEcioUS says:
they deserved what they got in their sandwich
BiG PrEcioUS says:
-a thick slice of DEATH
Jeff - Yum says:
but they will laugh no more. no longer will their voices be heard among the crowd. instead, i will replace them with their shadows. choking, gurgling windpipes writhing on the floor, spewing blood and bile.

BiG PrEcioUS says:
can I publish that?
Jeff - Yum says:
BiG PrEcioUS says:
do you like smiley bob?
Jeff - Yum says:
BiG PrEcioUS says:


Since fall is such a reflective time, it can also be a poetic time. It's a time when all the leaves are falling, we are reassessing the threat of the cold on our immediate future, and reminiscing about the past. For some, like my friend Justin, it is a time of violent dreams and sudden bursts of epiphany. He wrote me this poem so I thought I'd share it:

every night again i am my brother's killer
with infantile anguish i curse his spirit and
strike his soul and tear the shivering flesh from his naked body

and when he lies before me desecrated

i awaken

horny, hungry, human
and in the mood for love

-contributed by Justin Tensen

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

invitation and coyness: a story

It is true that in me I have some primal urge that is stronger than my sense to explain. I am an animal with fierce jealousies and callous thoughts.
A mouth bitter from spitting out what makes my guts boil.

A tongue, numb.

My rustic maneuvers
executed bluntly
via undisciplined limbs
are stroking the ego to
(finally) be in the place
where I can
confidently defeat myself again.

dangling precariously like a rough man with an unhealthy appetite for danger, I search desperately to dilute myself, like the dead sea, with its love of salt.

No one can be tough enough themselves, nevermind each other. So I give up like the prisoner of the tragic art, making fine mourning-clothes for the refusal I invited before you show up.

Aside: No one ever mentioned the control you have over me. I swear I haven't even hinted at it.

"Thank you" I say to the hollow air, and of course it takes my word.

Still, I am in the corner, sizing up my approach -to be just a bit faster.

I am looking just past the mark of time, but not yet seeing or recognizing what will be the coming dawn. I am not awakened from the collective dream which forms a haze in every individual perception. I cannot describe it, nor what passes invisibly through my shaken imagination, though I've seen its face.


anti-smoke log #2

Ok so I went on a smoking binge last night. Jeff came over and fixed my computer. MDG sucks. I'm in class now. Paul just said: "I feel like I've been run over by a bus." He was biking last night and unwisely decided to dismount mid-air. I guess you can guess the landing. We stayed up laughing about the good old times, saw Chris who's now a cop on msn, and ate lots and lots of pizza. I can still feel it worming around down there. Sounds pretty gross doesn't it? No, actually it's delicious. So anyways, I'm going to continue to try and curb my habit, here goes attempt #2. Blow your stray eye lashes and wish for me,

Monday, October 18, 2004

Howard would like to clarify some points

I'm just sending this in now from my pilot. I wanted to announce that I have a new flash card as soon as Barrett figures out how to actually organize his site and get pictures, I can introduce myself to you in the visual medium. I figured that since Barrett's life is kind of in a recouperatory phase (taken up with his boring non-smoking logs) he'll expect me to put in more entries and update things periodically.

I'm sorry to burst his bubble but I'm very busy. It's not like I have endless time to be lecturing you on the merits of employing a financial planner or anything like that. I don't employ one myself because I rely on myself and fulfill all the duties that I need to to get my job done. Oh yes and that reminds me: Someone brought to my attention that I had an air of being misleading in my last blog by suggesting that I worked with a "team". They took it the wrong way. I don't depend on anyone and I rarely rely on the services of page-boys or secretaries except for minimal mechanical production of my own strategies and campaigns. However, I was making a point to say that when I am forced to converse with people, I like them to rise to my standards, because if they didn't there would be no standards, and we might as well be sitting around on a friday night making monkey noises or something as equally useless, like whale noises or any variety of animal noises. Often people think that they can get by just having others complete their responsibilities for them but it's because they haven't yet grown up. If the world were like that (or like any of the ridiculous situations featured in MasterCard commercials) I could easily have someone else write my entries for me and it wouldn't matter but after all life isn't like that. I've talked to business men who are actively interested in having their computers programmed to send out timely releases of planned information at specific times. I say to them: "why don't you just get off your lazy arse and do it yourself?" We have a responsibility to our communities. We cannot let machines be a nuissance. As humans, we should be able to accomplish that ourselves. This is to say as well though that I do respect Barrett for his initiative after all so I offered to help him out. I hope you're writing this all down.

Recently Barrett's told me about some people who don't even know me (aka his acquaintances Yussif and Sarah) who don't believe I even exist despite Barrett's thorough explanation (as I understand because I delineated precisely what I wanted to divulge about myself and did not authorize him to say anything more) that though he doesn't know me very well personally I am still quite non-fictional. Now imagine what sort of position this puts me in? I have every reason, just as much as they do, not to believe that THEY exist. I mean, what kind of name is "Yussif"? If I didn't owe a kind of unofficial allegiance to Barrett, I would suspect that these people are nothing more than perhaps a napkin with writing on them at some run-down shop. What I could possibly say to these people is not effable here. I can only suggest that for others of their sort, I do not care whether or not you believe in me. Your opinion is of no consequence. It is only the valiant and devout people that I speak to that are going to be rewarded by my teachings and exercises. I hope other rumours don't circulate about me but I've heard that some are inclined to make fun of my palm pilot. That is no laughing matter. If you don't have a palm pilot maybe you should get one, then we'll see who laughs. I can get things accomplished with my palm pilot that those who don't have one cannot even dream of. So there.

This has been enough rough-housing for today. I don't mean to be intimidating with my audience I just don't want them to think of me as a push-over, because I will just not have it. Well, I must be going now,

Filed under Howard Wayword

cigarette abannoning process log: day 1

I've smoked since I was in grade seven. It wasn't regular at first. My friend Jeff and I would wait for hours and humiliate ourselves as punk teenagers asking and getting turned down by elders at the convenience store as we loitered and asked for someone to buy us smokes. We would find it annoying to have people treat us like pricks and then come back out of the store puffing. "Fucking hypocrites" we thought. Speaking of which, I'm terrible, can someone tell me who Silent Bob's side kick is? We were kind of like those guys but younger. Now that I'm 23 and I was a smoker until yesterday but now I have a different outlook on things. I wouldn't buy kids cigarettes not because of the legal ramifications (I mean, who's ever heard of someone being arrested for buying minors smokes?) just because I saw myself as the teenager and I always wondered, if it was just a little bit harder for me to get cigarettes would I smoke them? There must have been some cut off point that made it worth it. Smoking was good to me. I know it's a dirty dirty habit but I'm not going to knock it now just because I think I've quit. I'm just making a personal decision. Yesterday I smoked all my cigarettes then I was sitting in the Jimmy Jazz in Guelph listening to some tunes on the open-mic, just like old times when I'd go and play a couple of my tunes myself. Drinking beer and blowing out milky wisps was one of the highlights of the Jimmy Jazz, because smoking illegally was always at least tolerated. Now it's relegated to the patio where the heaters are warm but not all-encompassing. So I bummed a few off my friend Yusuf, who played kind of the conductor, coordinating us for cigarettes and moving us as one train in and out, towards the music, and away from it. After mine ran out I just didn't want to buy any more. I feel too routine driven lately, as if all the days of my life are measured by the same habits and things I do out of boredom or for a mental break. Isn't my mind active enough that it shouldn't need a break? Right now I'm writing because I like writing but also because everyone needs to have something to replace their habits with another thing that they like to do. I'm one who believes that nothing is destroyed until it is replaced. That's why I started jogging, but for some reason I smoked anyways once I'd cool down from the shower. So far I feel like I've decided not to smoke anymore or at least not buy cigarettes. It feels oh so quite new. My teeth are yellow and for the first time I've thought of the idea that they could whiten again so that when I smiled the sun would shine just a little bit brighter (if I just stop drinking so much damn coffee as well, but coffee's acceptable). I got Crest Night Effects and felt like a painter of magic as I applied the gunky white stuff to my teeth last night to coat them while I dreamed. If I could quit smoking I think I would be less compulsive in general. There's some idea in psychology, I don't know if it has a name but it describes the technique of visualizing positive images of yourself. The images I have right now are meagre but they include not coughing, whiter teeth, better breath (if you can visualize that) and a clearer mind. Through the ages and I think today especially smokers are treated as if they are mentally diseased. I don't believe it but I can see a valid point hiding in the notion somewhere. I always use it as an incentive and it has that way of seeming like a good in-between activity for almost anything. However, I'd rather feel rewarded for writing a new song for example by singing that new song, not going for a smoke. So here's hoping that I can change my tune.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Hi I'm Howard

Hi I'm Howard.
I don't like 'Howie' or anything shortened. I tell people all the time that it's not feasible to shorten words like cellular to "cell" or excitement to "hype". I wouldn't do it and I don't understand why some people might do it but it's just not something I'm really into so please don't. It's rude. Just call me Howard. I have an appreciation for honesty and direct communication. Liars shouldn't have their own space to take up and be secretive and deceiving. You know they're just thinking of ways to lie to you again. I'm a very progressive individual so I wouldn't suggest cutting a persons tongue off for lying because I'm very tolerant. Even though I hate bad people, I know that I'm so much superior to them, and they are really very desperate, so I don't even look at them. When accidentally see someone who is acting stupidly on the street or something like that I go over to them, I embrace them firmly with discipline, and I say to them: "Howard wants to have a talk with you" then I tell them that they are a very negative influence as a person because I want them to know what they are doing to the community and they often become more ignorant, and sometimes they are a lost cause. I just think that we should find a way to make them voluntarily confess that they are not being forthright once they figure out their game is up and deprive them of our oxygen, because if you're lying, you're not promoting a proper life. It isn't right to have criminals running around stealing paintings and things like this thinking that they've gotten away with it, because they haven't, they just haven't been caught yet. We have to set examples. Part of what I call "Howardianism" is that you be the best. I'm not really into people being anything but 100% around me all the time because I deserve respect. Like, if you are a couple minutes late for work it's because you are the one that knew that you could have brushed your teeth, put on your socks and made sure you had the right tie on at 7:43am for that day before you stepped out the door. I don't care if your garborator was clogged and you were worried about the flushing the puréed vegetables, they should have been put in a ziplock bag and safely secured in some compartment of your fridge. I work with a tight team that I expect to stay that way and I don't accept anything less. It's about efficiency. Howard Sr, was deeply connected to the clock and I think it's just something that's passed down in your blood. If you don't have it, you better find a job that you can do out of your home. It's as simple as that. If anyone ever asks me I just tell them. I was telling a fellow just the other day (he's a man who is as we might say "on an erring path" and one who does things that force me to suppress my external expressions so that I do not shake my head in public): "you know George, you really need to get to know the time of your own watch. Every day you have the opportunity to change the time of the hands and make them say the time that YOU know it is. If you know what time you're working with, you're in one hell of a lot better place to adjust it five minutes this way or that to be in synchronicity with everyone else, and then you stick to your watches time, simple as that." You stick to the time and make your appointments. George is a bishop and one inclined to indulgent megalomanianic fantasies that he is in touch with God and that sort of thing but I know that a man cannot be in touch with God unless he is in touch with the right time. I apolgized for swearing because after all, I was in the presence of a man who's profession has to do with directing people towards heaven rather then the aforementioned, and he is not sophisticated enough to understand my manner of speech, but I also made it clear to him that whether he was in the church or on his way to get a baguette God knows whether or not he's on time. I think he appreciated having someone showing him he's not fooling anyone by making a show of innocence. It's not innocence, it's neglect. Everyone has a bit of a different time, but for me my day starts at 6:00am on my watch, which isn't off at all. Part of what is really unacceptable about our situation right now is that many people don't have a proper understanding of respect. The nation still operates as if it expects us to work cooperatively with these people that have no worth to us. I just don't think I should have to pay for what I don't need. I can't afford to have liars, criminals or tardy people around me. I can't be disturbed by people with bad taste either. It's very disgusting when you have made an occassion to drink a President's Choice product, and someone beside you is speaking louder than he needs to to converse with his companions about a sport that's already out of season or drinking a domestic beer other than Canadian. I like coffee. I only go to the Planet Bean for coffee because they have a specific system for the way they roast the beans and make their coffee. It's not a luck of the draw kind of thing. They are serious about the way they make coffee and I don't take that kind of thing for granted. It shouldn't be. I hate Budweiser. It's not a good beer. You can put it on a coaster and while it's sitting on your dresser in a dimmed light it might look like any number of other beers but it still won't be a good beer when you taste it. Dogs are very instinctive creatures and though I didn't overreact at the fact of nature, I've seen one urinate on an inflatable Budweiser beer cooler. It didn't even have to see the beer itself, it spotted the poor merchandising. It's because these animals at least have a sense of taste. Even the icon is very distasteful. The font of the lettering and the idea of Budweiser with it's silly name are an obvious giveaway that the drink shouldn't be used for anything other than to wash the mouths of peasants and liars. Most peoples minds are so diluted from the filth they make themselves believe that they don't even have the skill to find out that in the original planning of the Budweiser name, they excluded a large portion of the actual name "Budweisereisenheimer" to make it more accomodating for young, uneducated people to consume and abuse alcohol because they could easily pronounce the name, unlike the name "Coors" or the old "Budweisereisenheimer". Some youths just want to become so recklessly inebriated that they won't even take the time to ask for anything with more than one syllable, and so they've further shortened Budweiser to "Bud". This fact makes my skin cringe but since I cannot always be on guard at all the pubs simultaneously, I've hired some police that were willing to take out anyone who even looks suspicious for a bribe. I'm really doing the next generation a favour. As a result of easily pronounceable names like "Bud" we have more young mothers getting pregnant under the influence of this second-rate drink and their babies will probably be more inclined to drink Budweiser themselves and thus repeat the nuissance of hearing about it. In an attempt to make it "cool" they betray the proper conduct that civilized people would use out of a sense of respect for grammar and pretend that an insufficient name is a complete word. That's deceptive. I would attribute the vomit and hangovers of most drinkers to Budweisereisenheimer even if it wasn't what they drank to get into their condition. Now I have been quite lengthy in this introduction of myself. Since I scheduled the block of time that it would take to do this beforehand I'm in no danger of becoming disorganized like irresponsible people do. I end here because I still have to lock my windows and get into the feeling of relaxation before I go to bed. At least you had this opportunity to meet me and make a first impression. I don't know if I can expect you'll read me ongoingly since I'm not one to judge the rigour of your character just yet, but all in good time my friend. Have a pleasant sleep,

Filed under Howard Wayword

God wants you to be a carpenter

Yesterday I was running off of a few hours of sleep -one in the car before roughing it and catching a shower at the gym at school before heading off to class to pursue my studies: pursue my career actually. With my cell-phone as an alarm clock and my car as a nomadic shelter, I make it through. However, my level of concentration was sketchy, and by the time the day was through, I wasn't feeling very good about my budgeting skills in business class. I had to ask "so what's the difference between financing and accounting anyways?...oh so financing is like the plan that later gets accounted and becomes an issue for accountants?" Some may laugh but I've never taken business before so shut up.

I'm a PR student which is sometimes a difficult thing to explain. "I'll get to write press releases and organize stuff for businesses, helping them match goals and launch campaigns to meet their mission statements. That kind of thing." I picture myself explaining. I've been a student for a long long time. It almost feels like a career. When I come home to my parents nurturing and comfortable pile of red bricks, the ones that my great grandfather put together before my entire house had to be put on wheels (yes I'm serious) and moved down the road to avoid the encroaching city, my parents friends are sitting around the table sampling blue cheese and talking about Canadian issues. We get into the job talk and a woman asks me: "what would you do if you could get your dream job? Forget all the barriers, what is your DESIRE?" She admits she struggles with the same hesitation to answer that I do with her son. It's frustrating for her but it's even more frustrating for me. I can't guess at what I'll be doing, for who, and in what fashion until I get there. I'd like to work for some international company like daimlerchrysler I think, or be a writer for Adbusters. Still, my ideas are vague.

She told me that God has a plan for everyone. This is like the title for Bishop Desmond Tutu's book "God has a Dream", but she's not talking about world peace, just what would make me feel peaceful about not having to flounder around with occupational anxiety. There's something unique and important as a mission that we are somehow in the possession of controlling and fulfilling, we just have to tap into it. I agree with this. It just sounds so destiny-oriented. That stuff always spooks me. I can't really apply it seamlessly to the reason why I was a manager at a fast-food joint for a year. It made me do a little self-analysis though. I think it's important to make like a little graph with skills you like to do, credentials you have, and the type of environment you'd like to work in. I've always thought I'd have lots of different jobs and not have to stick to a career. However, that life-style might take me down a career path consciously or unconsciously, I don't know yet. Will I become so rigidly specialized? Will I be type-cast as "that kind of guy"? The important thing I think is to balance everything. I love having my alter-ego. I love having my friends, going to movies, writing and playing my music, and taking on new brain-children. I think if I have a life outside of the ultimate plan, it can't become too overly controlling, and I'm in no rush to become a CEO. At the same time, what I enjoy should predestine me to become more of what I want to be. With all the incentives of higher education and the $$$ incentives of the job-world, it's easy to get derailed from what you actually want to do but that's part of the learning process too. One of my profs has a too-do list that she's been working on fulfilling for more than 20 years. Some people never learn to ride a horse until they're 50. I'm lucky I didn't kill myself when I was 16 riding at break-neck speeds over the ditches and fields of Quebec, but I'm glad I did it then while I young was reckless. This article made me think of the whole career planning thing in general. Read it if you like:

Friday, October 15, 2004

pitbull ban lament

Proud are pitbulls parents, as they play with stuffed toys, -not with live animals, nor ones they've killed. They can be loyal, just like most dogs. Or bark and be as annoying as hell. Have you ever seen Killer kiss a baby? That's just a name, he's quite gentle. But someone vulgarly called them all beasts. And someone's mind was churned like a sick stomach, at the selected pictures of pain, viewed in frequency to inspire discrimination. "Ticking time-bombs" he called them. I'm bad with Politicians names but he declared outlaw, and did not flinch, he would not have anything last another day. Todays the last day for pitbulls. Images of little children with stiches in their faces, traumatized mothers, voices electric with emotion, all of these and the inconvenient and newly conscious possibility of stumbling upon a disgruntled animal who has the capabilities of a land version of Jaws. I guess there'll be no laissez-faire policies with this governement, cause they mean to DO something. This rhetoric and more entice some to the ban, some away from the topic. The victims (those who weren't necessarily in the "wrong" place, though perhaps they were there at the wrong time) have deep cuts that bore into their skull. It makes it no better that they weren't crunched to death by a piano falling from a sky. They were extremely damaged by a naughty pitbull. Their visible damage lasts, but today is a sad day not only for those neglectful dog owners, but all others with the same kind of dog. It's not that their prize-fighting puppy is necessarily under attack. No, it's not that, it's just their entire breed. Owners beware now that their doggy is an old fad. Notice: pitbulls time has ticked away. When the purely bred life wears out behind the screen of a muzzle; they'll be traded in for a schnauzer or a poodle. Pitbulls are now like a quarantined product. (Are we going to have to secure our Ontario borders so they can't get in?) The custom of looking down on them, for what they're breed is, has a hint of racism, though I'd have to ask a dog. The new legislation suggests that they will become antiquities of Ontario. These "beasts" who are our companions, but we too, will be conscious of the dissappearing Pitbull rodeo.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

I guess I'm not so smart

So I thought it was a bit odd that my profile wouldn't save my response to the question that was basically asking: what would you do if your tongue was magnetic? What silverware would you use? I kept writing and writing wondering when I would satisfy the 150 character requirement, when after six hundred and howevermanywordsIlostcount words I realized the message was supposed to be no MORE than 150 characters. So, instead I've provided it here. So what would I do about the silverware issue?:

not silver, maybe chop sticks. That seems logical right? Since a huge population of people can get away with using wood as their utensils, why is this question even asked? What if it wasn't randomn to me but quite familiar? Maybe I use chop-sticks because I happen to have that kind of debonair. Well, I would hate shoveling with a piece of wire. Maybe I wouldn't be able to satisfy my voracious appetite with two little sticks, and what about the environment? What about all the trees? I guess I'll go with plastic.

On second thought, this question really opens you up to a lot of possibilities since it's really asking what kind of silverware would you use if you could use anything in the world? How exciting would it be to use your hands for once and just pick that mean slice of pizza right up off of that box?
I was once in Quebec just trying to blend in and the fine matron of the house had cooked pizza from the very source of her heart. There were pepperonis and mushrooms. There were even spices beyond measure. It looked delicious. It was steaming even. (And it wasn't that kind of fake steam you would see on commercials in the eighties that any person with a hint of depth perception could tell was BEHIND the fries). I got ready to dig in, and at that young, naive age I didn't have on my guard. In the accustomed way I was used to, I so rudely picked up a slice with my naked hand. Immediately came a rift in the vibe of the table. There were furtive eyes, and a subtle outrage that could not be repressed for long. Soon enough, I was asked very politely: was I not capable of using a knife and fork? Oh the embarassment! Oh the eternal debt my sense of moral uprightness took! I was cut to the quick! I never wanted to look at a pizza again. (Ok anybody who's anybody knows that's an exaggeration). I suppose it was a test from God. Providence had brought me to this new challenge. Instead of rolling my pizza slice up and giving it over to the hungry lion inside of me I had to practice discipline, -and manual dexterity. The rest of the meal was quiet. There was only the odd scraping or screeching of forks and knives on the plates. I think the crickets outside even felt lonely. I wanted to learn more french but I felt that even opening my mouth to offer anything other than an opportunity for pizza to get in would be pushing it.

That night, I slept intensely. The next day, everything changed. I was no longer the person I was before. For once, I'd eaten something in a different way than I had ever done before. Sure I've stabbed broccoli with a knife before. I've poked perogies, but never had I handled pizzas with anything other than my raw digits. I guess there's something for us all to learn. Maybe this question IS really important to ask yourself. I mean what kind of people are we that we're depended on a specific configuration of metal, and silver to be specific? Are we that habit-based? Well, humans are that way.

The one thing I just pictured in my head though about silverware is that imagine if you had like a waterfall but of food that was dropping onto the propeller of a helicopter? The centrifugal forces would fire it out into your mouth if you were in the right place. That would be awesome! If my tongue was a magnet then I wouldn't have to worry about attracting robots. (assuming they were made out of metal). If my tongue were a magnet I'd probably show off to everyone considering that's the kind of egotistical jerk I am. Hey wait a second, this wasn't supposed to be about me. Lets just stick to the forks and spoons. *****these are metal burrs, stuck to my magnet.

when I find out that blogg space is unlimited I:

post this hastily about the nature of blogg in general:

tis heaven sir, and I but a grateful wretch!!

upon the eve of presidential debates

This is what I have wanted to say and what I have said to one who praised Bush for his warring:

Your masters 'precision bombs' are blind to more than their own success. And you rogue, are but a pawn.

Ever since, I have been wondering and envying the person who could possibly put it more delicately and less antagonizingly. Someone who could actually make a difference.

see how easy it is?

I am serial killer. I am trying to figure out how to blogg. I am very excited and impatient and quite apparently blind. I cannot figure out how to post a message yet. This is an example of my interaction with someone who knows and must be frustrated with me (names have not been changed to protect the innocent) :

Serial Attitude Killer says:
I can preview a message but not sure how to post it at this point in time
Jeff - CS210a Assignment 1 - 100%. That's right folks. says:
Jeff Shantz
click Publish Post
Jeff - CS210a Assignment 1 - 100%. That's right folks. says:
at the bottom
Jeff - CS210a Assignment 1 - 100%. That's right folks. says:
big orange button
Serial Attitude Killer says:
ah, yes, the big red button in the middle of the screen
Serial Attitude Killer says:
Jeff - CS210a Assignment 1 - 100%. That's right folks. says:
beside the big navy button that says "Save as Draft"
Serial Attitude Killer says:
yes, it is obvious now to me that I was quite overlooking things

First impressions

Wow! It's good I'm getting into this now or in a couple years I'd be left in the dust, sputtering, confused, and not worth a red cent to myself.
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