Thursday, September 04, 2003

I didn't know the Kernel was Asian?

So the story goes...

As I walked through little Korea in downtown T.O. (or the T-Dot for those of you more hip than I) today looking, searching on my knees for a job, I noticed a delicous scent. Wafting on the breeze came a smell more heavenly then frying bacon, but with the same sickening after-smell as a rotting cats corpse (I love that smell). "What strange and foreign food produces this peculiar odour ?" I pondered, weary from my days trek. As I rounded the corner I discovered the source. A little known restaurant which goes by the name of Korean Fried Chicken. Amazed...I walked by and never looked back.

Once again, I'm left with nothing to tell you about my work search. Not that anyone cares.

I don't care.

Sign the book.

Parents: MK II

Alright. Although my teenage instincts are telling me not to. I do appreiciate my parents. I just don't understand why they seem to have made it their duty to try and actually drive me mad. What is it that makes them change their mood about twice every 30 seconds? Why can't they just be mad, then when they've stopped being mad, be happy? Instead they've decided to mess with my head and be both happy and mad at the same time! Confusing and confounding to say the least. But then again, my mom just got me a job at the Bay.

Thanks Mom

Get Better Charlie

Morning yet again. Jobless yet again. Its sunny however, so things are looking up...a litte bit. Its a classic morning in fact. Suns shining, I can hear kids laughing and my mom is actually making muffins. Oh and CNN is interviewing Britney Spears. Even for an idiodic pop star, shes incredibly stupid. Finally I realize that if there is only one thing in the world I'm happy about. Its that I am not Britney Spears. Weird eh?

Listening to N.E.R.D.

I don't feel very creative today. I have no idea where else I can look for jobs. I don't want to know actually. Sorry for the boring post. But don't you worry. Theres MUCH more where that came from...

I'm full of it

Wednesday, September 03, 2003


Time for me to write. Write what? Write this. Word.

I was reading my journal (not to be mistaken with a diary, which is clearly far too girly for me) and I think I'd like to put some of it out here. Its embarrasing and sad but you'll survive. So without further ado...

We start our story with an intrepid young lad named Max. Max is bored with school and work and all the rest of those that are horrible yet supposed necessities. He has recieved a journal for his journey (a very thoughtful gift)and so picking up his quill he begins to write...

"Alone. Scared. SO scared. Lonely but intrigued by it. Scared of the future (of me) and by girls and by bigfoot. I just smiled. Scared of what I might write down and who'll read it. Listening to Ben Folds and the dryer and the cars and me, breathing. I nearly cried. I write like my Dad. Stuck. Here."

Keep in mind. Max is feeling down and feels he needs to use his fancy words. He continues...

"...Nothing ever changes. I'm getting tired but I don't want to stop writing. I don't feel the same anymore but I will in a minute. I'm going to piss. 1:30 I LOVE feeling like this. My brain is doing something different. I can feel it. When I think about EVERYTHING and what it is..."

"...Thats another thing I do. Wonder. Wonder and hope. They say that when you're older you lose your wonder and hope. Why? Is it because you realize that theres no point or is it that you just get bored, or run out of things to wonder and hope about? Will I? I hope not..."

Now, looking back. I don't remember a time when Max was told that "when you are older you lose your wonder and hope but I guess Max wasn't thinking about memories or reality for that matter. He does that a lot.

More crap like that Jack when I get back with a sack full of smack. What.


But theres no time to be offended, gotta do something with Gavin.
Went to see Matt today at St. Mikes. He wasn't looking so good, but then again, what should he look like? Poor guy.

Watching a show on gems...yeah, thats right. Gems. "Your life is worth more than just some diamonds" so say J-5 anyway. I'm not so sure, I think my life is worth, lets say 2 million dollars. Yeah, thats a good amount. SO boring, I'm sorry.

Went looking for a job today. Not sure about whats going to happen though. My parents are disapointed. I don't care.

Rockin' it.

The morning after...

Well, its the morning again and I feel ill. Probably since I just ate an astonishing amount of fake corn flakes. Don't know what it is about them that makes me instantly sick. Its probably the corn...eww...corn...flakes.

Still without a job. Not really that unbelievable is it? I ask far too many questions. And I state too many obvious facts. Listening to The Get Up Kids, not very good for waking up, seeing as they can somehow write the most sleepy rock songs. My eyes are desperately trying to close. Even I think its stupid to stop them. Go ahead my little bloodshot orbs of sight. Wrap yourself in your skin coats and roll back to a comfortable angle.

Alright, I better hit the town. My legs hurt already.

Tuesday, September 02, 2003

OK ok ok, I know this is both nerdy and pathetic. But unlike you normals I suffer from a rare condition (no hilarious name for said condition, I'm truly sorry) that denies me the ability to keep thoughts in my ever so small head. And now, of course, I've found a way to shove it in your unsuspecting faces. Eat it.

Hopefully I'll eventually loosen up and release (yeah, so far this sentence isn't looking so bright) some excruciating details of my so called life.

Till next time...later tonight probably

Well, here it is. The start of the end that is my life.

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