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Friday, February 06, 2004

I was talking to my friend Dave. He's from Jamaica and spent his life traveling around Europe.

He's getting older and feels like he should be one of those suits telling him what to do. I told him that he had had an amazing life, and that was infinitely better than a higher paying job. He looked at me and said

"Sometimes good memories just don't cut it"





Dirty and Reckless

Max: What?
Jim: What?
Max: You said something
Jim: No I didn’t
Max: Yeah, something about sun block
Pause
Jim: Sun block?
Max: I heard you
Jim: You’re hearing things
Max: I know you said something
Jim: I said nothing
Max: What ever
Pause
Jim: You going tonight
Max: Where?
Jim: To the allstream party
Max: Ha. Do I look like I’d fit in there?
Jim: Yeah, why not?
Max: You honestly think that I’d be like ‘Hey guys, how’s the cabling going?’
Jim: No, you don’t have to talk to them. Free drinks man.
Max: Really?
Jim: It’d better be
Max: It’s not
Jim: Come on man, there are some hot chicks there
Max: Yeah, ‘Hey nerdy technician lady, hows about you install MY cable.
Laughing
Jim: Seriously though, you should come
Max: We’ll see, we’ll see

Thursday, February 05, 2004

OH NO!

I’ve become the jealous sidekick. The loser that doesn’t get it. I’ve been left behind, in the world of "by myself".

So many of my friends have left the nest and realized that girls are actually attainable and not something impossible. So many of them have found a girl, and I hate so many of those girls. I’m everything I’ve promised not to be. Now when I talk to these buddies I’m starting to get “Can we talk later? I’m kind of busy”. It’s so painful to watch their ascent and think “What the hell? Why am I not doing the same thing?” but say “Ok, I’ll keep living the dream then. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody”.

I’m Garth. I’m every other sissy sidekick left behind. I’m any Jack Black character, only I’m not realizing the error of my ways. There seems to be no way out of it. I hate losing my friends, and I hate the people taking them away from me. Blindly of course, with no thought for my friends.

And to think that I used to defend Yoko.
I want a Yoko.


Max 2004

I say we vote a twix bar into power.
Because it matters that much.
People have to stop pretending they're political experts. I'll have none of it.

I can't wait to tell that Twix bar to go to hell.

Whip It

They’ve moved me and I don’t have much time to write.

I was just in a meeting, a big giant fat-cat meeting, which was scary as hell. I survived only by eating slice after slice of delicious chocolate cake. But there was nothing funny or delicious about this morning. I woke up feeling like hell (which may be funny to some, but to me…it felt like hell). I actually stumbled like a drunkard to work.

Oh wait, something funny did happen.

I was shuffling down Bay St. Sun shinin’, birds…dead because it’s so cold, and kiddies (Hopefully not dead) laughing on their way to school.(Cuz then they’d be zombies and I don’t even want to tell you what that would mean. Zombie school RULES!) As I mentioned, I felt like hell, so I was a’frownin’ and a’scowlin at everything that wasn’t as tired as I was. Eg: Store Clerks, Stop Signs, and some babies, the ones that gave me lip. When who did I spy coming towards me? Well, no one you know, but she was really really hot. Which is hard to be in the winter, downtown at 8 in the morning. At least for me it is. Stop laughing.
So anyway, I’m drooling, she’s just staring forward in a “scary business lady who needs human flesh, the only way to fuel her financial decision making powers” kind of way. We get closer and I’m waiting for some sort of reaction. Everything slows down as her eyes begin to move towards mine. Hours go by, nothing else exists until WHAM! There it is. Sweet contact. It lasts for about a tenth of millisecond before she, wait for it, falls family guy style to the cold salty concrete in a pile of expensive suit. It wasn’t because it was icy, or that she accidentally tripped. It was my blinding good looks (despite my hideous angry/constipated or angrily constipated face) that actually overloaded her heightened senses. Incapacitated, she collapsed with her mouth open, slowly mouthing “He’s…beautiful”. I had knocked her down with a new kind of ray. The Max ray.

And that’s the honest to me truth.

Contrary to popular belief, Max rays do NOT cause cancer. They cause herpes. Brain herpes. They itch like the devil. I gave the devil herpes. He gave me my soul back. The devil likes herpes and uses the barter system. Like in third world countries. Where they just have normal herpes. Like me.

They learn about Max rays in zombie school.



Wednesday, February 04, 2004

Dynamic Duo
I don't know what's funnier. This conversation:

P.Jappy (English accent): I need some boxes
Max (Max's accent): Why?
P Jappy: Cuz I need to carry things
Max: You're building a fort aren't you?
(Pause)
P Jappy: It's not a fort...It's a castle

Or

When Brian did a search for "The Trailer Park Boys" the first one the list was "Gay Movies Canada"

We laughed and laughed

Such Language

I’m becoming tolerant, and it’s killing me. Bad jokes make me smile, puns for god sake. I watch re-runs of “The making of the band”. People that I would usually kick in the stomach on sight are now becoming friends with me…Friends that I kick in the stomach.

I decided I wasn’t going to watch the super bowl this year, and successfully blocked it out. It’s not that I don’t like a good football game, though I despise a bad one. It’s just that the thought of doing the same thing as every other stupid North American (This means you, you capitalist bastards) just felt a little wrong. I thought, just in case they beam some sort of mind controlling…umm…beam…into everybody’s brain, maybe somebody should sit it out so that things can be worked out afterwards. You know, blow up the moon, where the beam originates, something like that. But even if there is no beam, I don’t want to be thinking the same thing as the rest of them.

Fat Husband: “Whoa, did those women surrounded by beer cans just kiss?!
Down-Trodden Wife: "I think so"
Fat Husband: "Honey, from now on, there will be no more water in this house. Only cold refreshing Labaat Blue. Kids! Bath time.”
Fat Husband’s neglected children: “Yay! No more McSpecial sauce baths!”
Down-Trodden Wife: “Yay!”
Fat Husband: “The women kissed!”
Everyone: “Yay!”
Down-Trodden Wife: “But I’m pregnant. I probably shouldn’t drink the beer”
Fat Husband: “Don’t worry; you can wash the dishes in beer. That way everybody wins!”
Down-Trodden Wife: “What?”
Fat Husband (Looking angry, like his father used to): “What?”
Down-Trodden Wife: “…yay”
Fat Husband: “Yay! Beer!”
Children: “Dad, the beer makes us feel funny”
Fat Husband: “Yay!”
Children: “No really, Johnny just passed out, we need to call an ambulance”

Fat Husband: “I hate you! If you hadn’t shown up, your mother and I would have been living in style on a beach somewhere in Mexico. But Nooooo you had to be born and...
Children: “But Da…”
Fat Husband: “Oh great, now you’ve made your mother cry”
Down-Trodden Wife: “I’m not crying, it’s ok, everything’s ok…yay…beer””

Everyone: “YAY!”

Try the wine

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

Try the wine

A friend sent me a sound clip the other week and it has become completely lodged in my brain, which is apparently set on repeat. I can't get it out no matter how hard I slam my head on my desk/co-workers. It's bizarre, it's not like the Spice Girls, which have a nasty habit of dwelling within me and then bursting out in a bloody vocal mess while I take a shower (It's like aliens, only twice as horrifying and twice as much of me naked, which is really just 4 times as horrifying). The clip is just some demented man asking someone to "Try the wine". No music, in the background you can presumably hear wine being poured, which would make sense. If it were coffee being made I would be very confused. I remember hearing that one of them 'old song maker guys' allegedly had one note stuck in his head and eventually it drove him insane. I'm like him, only 100 times less cool.

That's how I judge people by the way, by how cool they are compared to me. The middle. I'm zero. I'm the default setting on the social heat meter.

The kosher Meat Heater
The Assured Wife Beater
The Insured Bike Seater
The Procured Sight Reader

The bored 19 year old high school dropout pretending to write neater.

Easy does it

So here I sit. A man who has just quit his job, and in two mind melting weeks will re-enter a world that he hardly remembers. A world of people. The outside people. Wonderful people. Monday's are just another day to them, when they're outside. It's cold but they wear coats because they're used to it. When the sun shines they sit and squint and think. They watch the inside people running from building to building in shiny shoes and they feel sorry for them.

I'll waste my money on chocolate milk and feel good about it. The only the problem will be where to go from there, but it's ok, I'll have time.

Monday, February 02, 2004

This morning on Good Morning Toronto: An Ode to Spandex.

A Max Hazen report


The day I first saw you, I was only just 6
You were made into pants then, and the band's was named Styx.

I knew at that moment, that I was enamored
With a weird type of fabric. The lead singer was hammered.

I don't know how you got here, or how you were invented
But I can guess that some scientist quickly repented

When he turned on the TV, and his heart dropped with fright
His nerdy joke patent had hit-off over night

He was probably looking for something like Flubber
But he ended up with fabric, that fit like a rubber

Or is it true what they say? You'd think most would say no
That you aren't from this earth, but from a big UFO

They wore you as head bands, they wore you as shirts
They wore you as trousers, just imagine...It's worse

Either way, it doesn't matter, I don't mean to digress
When making clothes out of Spandex, there's no such thing as a dress

At first you were interesting, at first you were cool
But soon enough Spandex, you turned corporate tool

You came into our lives with the simplest of goals
But with the eighties it seems, came confused gender roles

Cuz a girl dressed in you, all tight and revealing
Is way better than some dude singing "Sexual Healing"

But not to demean you, you meant quite a lot
You're a lot like The Pope is or... Maybe not.

Well I guess in a way, that you were much like the savior
Just that it was wrong when you dressed someone that preferred lude behavior

But my dear Spandex, will you please heed my call?
I don't ever want to see you, next time I'm at the mall

You had your big chance, it was your time to shine
But now black, grey and white are in. Not hot pink and lime

I'm starting to get bored now, I should probably go work
I hope you don't think I've been too much of a jerk

But I still love you Spandex, I know I've been slightly uncouth
But you have to believe me, I speak only the truth

Cause the way you hid our bodies, it can't be denied
That when you wear Spandex, you've got nothing to hide




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