onestarphil

OK, so yesterday natassja said I should blog about my dreams. The unfortunate thing about that is...I don't remember any of them. The world is probably a happier place because of my dream amnesia. I mean, you've seen what I'm like totally sane and in the firm grip of reality....could you imagine the hell that would break loose in my dream world? There would be all kinds of shenanigans...talking hippos that look extraordinary in their leopard print speedos, kicking the hell of Micheal Phelps in the butterfly, rainbows that end not in gold, but a giant pot of duck vaginas (wouldn't you feel severely ripped off if you followed a damn rainbow for days, only to find THAT?), and horrific sights like Rosie O'Donnell doing yoga naked with an alien popping out of her chest eating gum from underneath the counter at Starbucks. No sir, my dreams would probably not be a pleasant image. Conversely, maybe I'd be normal in my dreams and they'd be full of puppies and kittens frolicking in the sun and crapping out little marshmallow candies while rydell and meshell have a pillow fight with pillows that explode not into feathers, but cute little chicks (the chicken kind) that I can run up and pet and look all cool and shit with in pictures.



So no, I won't be able to blog about my dreams.

How about instead I rant about public transit. I hate it. I could stop there, but nope. I used to take the skytrain and buses in Vancouver all the time, and there wasn't much I disliked more. I mean, I had people cram up against me, touching me in places I save for at least the 37th date, and they never once introduced themselves or bought me dinner first! I mean, come on buddy, if you want me to roll with you, I'm flattered, but at least TRY to seduce me first.

I would, however, try to make the best of it. Whenever I was on transit, in anticipation of anything going horribly wrong (like in the movie Alive ), I would always pick out the person I would eat if we got stranded for a couple of hours. To call dibs on him or her, I would lick my finger and then touch him or her. It worked with KFC drumsticks at home, so it should work on public transit too. Also, I always carried a knife and fork with me. Just because necessity may dictate that cannibalism is in order, there is not need to be barbaric about it.

Anyway, the point is, I drive now. I feel bad for the polar bears that my carbon may be killing ( through global warming), but the fact is....there will be far less polar bear crap cluttering up the arctic. Also, they eat baby seals, so they are probably evil.

This is what happens when I don't have a good enough topic to blog about. Somebody....pleasepleaseplease throw me a bone...

In the meantime, watch this. I in no way condone the actions of the conservation officers, cause this was obviously a very stupid idea. It's only kinda funny cause miraculously, the bear wasn't hurt.