Friday, April 23, 2004

I'm really into hatin' today, in fact I hate this entry already.

I'm in some serious (and admittedly sappy) need of affection these days. But we've gone over that.

In case you haven't noticed, I can't seem to form proper paragraphs lately. I'm just sick of my own whining and the reasons I whine themselves.

Right now, I would kill for a girl. That's right, I would actually take some innocent person's life because just I'm that lonely. Amazed? You ain't seen nothin' yet. I don't care how you want me to do it. Knife, Gun, or the victim's own shoe. How about a frying pan? That's always funny....OH...AN ANVIL. I don't care how disturbing, bloody, or morally reprehensible you want it, I'll kill em. Hell, I'll EAT em' if that's what floats your boat, I don't care. As long as I get me a girl in return. If you could see me now, man, what with my spotted fur signet and giant woman-whackin' club (Went there last Friday, good sound system, OH!) I laugh at your normal sized lower jaw. And when I laugh my massive brow lowers, making me look quite menacing when in fact, I'm very happy in my Neanderthal-ness.

If I were a caveman (In the stereo-typical sense, seeing as I'm usually referred to as "Max-The Modern Day- Hazen" it's strange because I could really go for a big chunk of bison right now) my cave would rule. I'd make sure to get the guy/girl that draws so damn well to cover my walls with little guys with spears, killing horses. Gotta love those little guys, that guy had somethin' goin' with them. That could've been the artist's way of venting his overwhelming urge to love and procreate. Hmmm...maybe, if I manage to survive any longer, I'll eventually explode with creativity and make something no one has ever seen before. Or maybe I'll end up killing thousands, either way.

My lust (I guess it's lust?) could fuel a goddamn fucking rocket to Mars right now. You heard me, a lust-powered rocket.

"Yes, that is a lust-powered rocket in my pocket and I think it's pretty clear that I am happy to see you".

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

Well I was swimming in the Caribbean

So I'm back at home, and so far I'm feelin' it.

I'm still puzzled. Last night I was walking home from the grocery store with bags in hand when I noticed a "street kid" sitting outside of Frans (Thank you Fran). The sky was pitch black and the lights from inside the restaurant were harsh while I squinted trying to focus on the girl.

"Spare some change?"
"Nah, sorry" I smiled but looked away, staring forward. I could tell she wasn't done.
"Your phone number?" Her friend giggled.

I smiled again and kept walking, but inside I was anything but happy. Did that girl just ask me for change and then hit on me? Was she making fun of me? I mean, that's the obvious one, but it seemed to me that she meant it. In which case...I'm still confused.

Argh, I can't even ramble anymore.

Monday, April 19, 2004

I've broken my arm, I've broken my leg but I've never before...

The other day I drank more than I could handle. Poor Will (Who I now call Mom) had to handle me and did so like a pro.

I woke up at 3:15. My head was thumping, but that was to be expected so I sat up and instantly felt a wave of nausea. I stood up, and ran to the wash room.

I was in that wash room for the next 2 hours until I could pull my head out of the toilet to just get out of the room for a moment. It didn't work, and soon enough I was puking my guts out in the upstairs bathroom. I fell asleep on the floor. I watched the game, but every 20 minutes it would come back and I would have to run to the wash room. It was the worst day of my life (that, or maybe when my dog died, but then again I wasn't covered in my own stomach contents...). I tried to eat a banana, but every bite taken produced another stream of banana-y vomit. I found out today, I really should have gone to the hospital.

Then came the street car ride home. I pulled it off without a hitch.

But if you're walking downtown sometime soon, near Yonge and Dundas, walk along the curb up to the "Worlds Biggest Book Store" and think of me. As the clock struck midnight, under the clear night sky, I blew chunks like a star-fish defending himself. I left a stain to be remembered.

I'm done for now, I've marked my territory.

I'll never drink again. I swear.

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