You want pictures? I got pictures.
On Friday, which is the day that I like to celebrate the founding of our nation, the Dominion of Canada, on what is known as Dominion Day, one of my best friends got married. I can't say I blame him. She's pretty spectacular, in every way. But maybe I blame him just a little for dragging me out to White Rock in a $200 rented tux to set up a hall for the reception and not get drunk because I had to drive home. For that I'll have to give him the Karate Finger when he returns from having tropical sex sans sin. It will be moderated by the fact that I have the height to look good in a tux and one of the bridesmaids gave a sort of half-hearted effort at hitting on me. She had very sexy eyes... and more, besides.
Maybe it's a good thing I didn't get drunk. I had to be out of the house with Eutychus by 10 the next morning to avoid the pest control people gassing us to death. So I took her to the farm for a family visit. She had a good time looking out the window at all the other birds. None of them have to sit around the house all day, but none of them get nutriberries, either. She doesn't look jealous; just interested.
I think I might put together a little photo-album as o-miyage for when I go to Japan in September. O-miyage is Japanese for souvenir and the reason that souvenir shops do so well here is that every Japanese person who comes here on holiday is legally required to bring home a souvenir for every person they're related to, friends with, work with, have checked out on the train or have heard about through acquaintances. If they don't, they get punished by being groped on the train (for women) or not being allowed to grope on the train any more (for men). It's crazy. When I travelled a bit in Japan with my buddy last November he brought a bag with him that was just for o-miyage. I bought one thing - for the woman I had a crush on. I am Canadian. I travelled by train and only ever groped myself.
My parents live in what some might call "East Jesus." That's a friend's expression, meaning "way the fuck out where nobody wants to go." When you live downtown, it's pretty much anywhere east of Cambie. For the people out in the 'burbs it's the beginnings of the rural areas. For the people in East Jesus, it's a blasphemous term and the city folks who use it are probably also gay sinners. At any rate, it's a blueberry farm. I took some pictures of blueberries, and hated it. The sun never did decide if it wanted to be behind clouds or not and the wind had its eye on me. Every single time I lined up a nice shot, it would blow that branch around until I gave up. You can see my hand in some of the photos, trying to keep the branch steady. We really need to do away with the elements, entirely. They're not being helpful.
And because there were no ducks out at the farm, I'll have to finish things off with a chicken sporting an afro:
On Friday, which is the day that I like to celebrate the founding of our nation, the Dominion of Canada, on what is known as Dominion Day, one of my best friends got married. I can't say I blame him. She's pretty spectacular, in every way. But maybe I blame him just a little for dragging me out to White Rock in a $200 rented tux to set up a hall for the reception and not get drunk because I had to drive home. For that I'll have to give him the Karate Finger when he returns from having tropical sex sans sin. It will be moderated by the fact that I have the height to look good in a tux and one of the bridesmaids gave a sort of half-hearted effort at hitting on me. She had very sexy eyes... and more, besides.
Maybe it's a good thing I didn't get drunk. I had to be out of the house with Eutychus by 10 the next morning to avoid the pest control people gassing us to death. So I took her to the farm for a family visit. She had a good time looking out the window at all the other birds. None of them have to sit around the house all day, but none of them get nutriberries, either. She doesn't look jealous; just interested.
I think I might put together a little photo-album as o-miyage for when I go to Japan in September. O-miyage is Japanese for souvenir and the reason that souvenir shops do so well here is that every Japanese person who comes here on holiday is legally required to bring home a souvenir for every person they're related to, friends with, work with, have checked out on the train or have heard about through acquaintances. If they don't, they get punished by being groped on the train (for women) or not being allowed to grope on the train any more (for men). It's crazy. When I travelled a bit in Japan with my buddy last November he brought a bag with him that was just for o-miyage. I bought one thing - for the woman I had a crush on. I am Canadian. I travelled by train and only ever groped myself.
My parents live in what some might call "East Jesus." That's a friend's expression, meaning "way the fuck out where nobody wants to go." When you live downtown, it's pretty much anywhere east of Cambie. For the people out in the 'burbs it's the beginnings of the rural areas. For the people in East Jesus, it's a blasphemous term and the city folks who use it are probably also gay sinners. At any rate, it's a blueberry farm. I took some pictures of blueberries, and hated it. The sun never did decide if it wanted to be behind clouds or not and the wind had its eye on me. Every single time I lined up a nice shot, it would blow that branch around until I gave up. You can see my hand in some of the photos, trying to keep the branch steady. We really need to do away with the elements, entirely. They're not being helpful.
And because there were no ducks out at the farm, I'll have to finish things off with a chicken sporting an afro:
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
1a) the profile pic has to have our face clear and flattering...it goes through a moderator, who i guess didn't like the bug eyes
2) i checked the sgbc board thing but there was nothing going on ??
3) the panic attack has been replaced with a dazed aftershock.
4) another million years forward in the evolution chain and i'll bet you toes will have become obsolete.