Gypsy Punks and Almost Lost Memories

Its the morning of the day we leave, and about 2 hours ago Matty and I decided to check out this crazy big market that sell everything you can imagine for impossibly low prices. Pants and shirts for $0.50 each and a kilo of tomatoes for the same price. It was pretty ridiculous.

We´re walking along jut abuot to exit the market and all of a sudden I feel hands on my arm, the arm that is attached to the hand that holding my camera. Instantly I go into defence mode, My hand grips that camera like it is the very heart keeping me alive, I´ve got almost 500 photos on there and there is simply no way that this guys going to seperate me from those. He screams at me something about being a gringo, and I tear my hand and camera away from him, and he turns and sprints away like the cowardly theif he is. I scream at him to fuck off, which he is already doing, and he can´t uderstand anyhow because hes spanish. Oh well, I´m sure my tone got the message across.

The whole scene takes about 5 seconds to go down, and we jsut look around a little stunned, yet relieved. He didn´t get shit, everyone in the market knows he is a theif, and o one was hurt. I would have much rather I got to hurt him, but thats the least of my concerns now. So we decide we should probably exit the market, and I decide I sshould probably pocket my camera for a while. Not incredibly smart to have it visible to everyone after all.

After that, we grabbed water from the car and just shilled in the park for a while, watched some kids playing around and some guy juggle pins... he was pretty solid too. Got 5 going at once and did behind the back juggling and all sorts of fun stuff. Mostly I sit and fantasise about the fight club scene where that pretty blond guy gets just mashed into the floor, and I imagine how great it would feel to pound that gypsy fucks face into the pavement untill I´m just driving pieces of bone into the ground. Ahh well, we´ll store that energy up for the next time someone tries to take something from me, or generally pushes me to far, and I get my hands on them. Sorry, machismo coming out there, but there's a lot of testosterone ripping through me right now.

Anyhow, We will see you all soon, and the best part of it is, we´ll all get to see the photos as well. I´m actually really happy to be coming home, as I miss all of you.

See you soon.

Portillo, Los Andes and the thermal spa

We headed from Valpo to hit up the hotchot ski resort Portillo. Its the place where all the richies go when the seasons in, though since it is summer, it isn't at all. We had seen on their websit there might be some hiking and kyaking opportunities so we figured it was worth checking out, especially since it sits smack dab in the middle of the highest mountains in the americas.

After a long fairly heavy traffic drive we started up the last strech into the mountains. I had said earlier I wanted to drive some serious mountain roads, and let me tell you, drive them we did. I've never been, and probably won't ever be on more twisty mountain side roads again. It was incredibly cool, et fairly unnearving at the same time. There are no guardrails anywhere, and the corners are a full 180 degrees. Anyone with any real fear of hights would be having panic attacks the whole time for sure.

We finally got to portillo, expecting a Whistler or maybe Tremblant type atmosphere. What we got was less impressive then Chicopee quite honestly. I imagine covered in snow and ice the place would be gorgeous, but a barren dessert with a subpar hotel thats basically not even open, just wasn{t doing it for us so we decided we wouldn't stay for the night. We did however get some amazing photos, of a glacial lake right nearby and the snow caps of the massive mountains, so the drive was definately worth it.

We headed back down and into Los Andes, and found the "thermas" which are basically the Chilean verrsion of onsens. Natural springs used in a quite luxurious, mulit bath with multi temperature resort. It was expensive as balls compared to what we were used to, but afte calculations, it was about half what it would cost at home. Basically everything here is exactly half as expensive as in canada.

We hung out in the baths and got ultra relaxed for an hour, let the water from the massaging manmade waterfalls massage our necks and rid us of the mountainroad tension. We also got awsome mexican wrestling masks (aka lycra bathing caps) that we were allowed to keep, and will be bringing home for video making purposes.

We had a filet mignon dinner, a bottle of wine, and went to bed and had a glorious rest. Then headed for some more Thermas, halfway between Los Andes and Santiago. We'll be home Friday in the early morning, So I expect something going on Friday night, ya{ll better recognise.

Valapariso: The San Fran of South America

We´ve spent the last few days in Valapariso, or Valpo as the cool kids call it. I am totally a cool kid, so I´ll call it valpo from this point forward. First off, I still think that girl I mentioned is uber renard, however her taste in cities is like coopers ass, stinky.

I really like this place, it makes no sense, its is chaotic, and it is immensly beautiful. It was build up the side of a crazy steep hill and all the building just go straight up, there is graffitty just everywhere, but then also gorgeous urals at every turn just to add even more bohemian charm.

The most important thing is, we found food, and i mean amazing assed gourmet food with richness and flavors and textures like I´d pay 50 bucks for easy at home, yet here, its far less then half that, including copius wine and coffee. We´ve eated at the same small french restaurant twice in two days, and its been utterly fantastic both times. Wehave also had some unbelieavable think crust pizza, so yeah, we are certainly not loosing any weight in this town, and we are certainly not looking forward to what we´ll be eating after we leave.

We have met a number of wonderful people here too. An older couple who basically live how I think everyone should live when they retire. They spend time together, draw, and travel all over and they still seem very much in love. Halk and Erin, I hope with all my heart you stay as happy as these two are, for as long as they have been. In fact, i hope every one of my friends finds someone like that one day, as even though old people can be gross, there isn´t much more beautiful then old people still very in love.

We´ve also met a number of beautiful and friendly girls, some of whem we spent the day at the beach with today, which was our first really relaxing time just having a serious lay around. Matty and I had been hitting the wine pretty damn hard for the last 4 nights so I needed a break thats for certain. I´m a little sunburnt but im pretty sure it´ll be turning into a tan.

Tomorrow we are off to the mountains, and considered the poshest ski resort in chile, though ski season is closed. They have it open for trekking and kayaking etc. etc. all year so we are hoping to get some serious Andes mountain photos while we are there. I´ll update later, Phil out.

Chillan and the Gato Negro

We stopped in Chillan with low expectations, though the gorgeous tree lined streets on the way in did have us slightly impressed. The place we got to stay was cheap, thought nothing special, and the square nearby was gorgeous, and filling up with people, as there appeared to be a free open air concert being set up for that evening.

We decided after much thought and a bottle of wine, that we wouldn´t be getting up all that early and that the concert and drinking in the square were both much better ideas. And so we did. Dipped into the gato negro, or "black cat" straight out of the box, and polished about a half litre each in the park.

Watched the characters around us play with colapsible batons and deal drugs, as well as what appeared to be a post prom party slowly fade into the night. After the box we headed over to the fair, buzzed as can be, and ate 20 cent beernuts and watched the show. It was totally worth every penny, and we got a good 30 minutes or so of entertainment out of it before we headed back and layed down for a very trying sleep.

No one has heard of double pane windows here so anyhting happening on the street dring the night, you hear full volume. Thats tough to adjust too, though I was okay with it after all that wine, Matty struggled.

We were actually up pretty early and headed off to Valapariso. The sanf fran of Chile, the bohemian town of the coast. Hot girl in Valdivia said she wasn´t a fan, but we were going to find out for ourselves.

Valdivia the brewpub and Sealions

SO after a long drive and a short ferry ride we arrived in a town called Valdicida. Its a university town with a bunch of shitty restaurant, as has been our experience with all of Chile, and a couple other interesting sights.

Our first night we drank a bottle of wine and chatted politics and the pros and cons of marriage with an old hippy dude from sanfransisco. He played us a little guitar and we shared a bottle or two of wine. Good night indeed.

The next day we met one of the most beautiful girls I´ve ever seen, and shatted a little over breakfast, then headed from the local brewry for a tour. We arrived before it opened, and waited around 10 minutes till noon and they swung us in for a whirlwind tour, of one shitty room with what I guess thye considered a beer museam, but looked more like any college dorm with a bunch of different bottles lined up.

Then we tasted all the beers they brewed on premises, and matty chose his favorite, a honey lager with a very sweet aftertaste that actually was just like real honey. I even almost enjoyed that beer, though the inicial beer taste still wasn´t good.

We had the first decent meal we had had in chile, and it was just an assortment of cheese and cold cuts, and some nice breads. We thouroughly enjoyed it and have picked up a few extras we´ll have to add to the traditional cotage lunches at home.

Stopped at the seashore on the way out of town as I spotted some sealions just chilling there. I learned two things about sealions that day. One that they are actually like lions, they gorwl and are big and look like they could seriously fuck you up, and two, they have what is perhaps the stinkyest shit on this earth. Think of rotten mussles draped in sick baby poo, then add more dirty fish stank, and you have something thats close, but not quite as bad.

We then headed off for a long ass drive to our next destination, which we thought would be just a shitty town to sleep in and get off early from to head to Valapariso.

However....

When flying by the seat of your pants, sometimes your ass gets burned.

Many hundred of km´s, a twelve hour day and a 6 hour detour and we are in Chiloe. We tookl off early from Pucon bright and early, and headed for the argentinian border. After driving through some of the most gorgeous scenery yet and snapping som incredible landscapes, we arrived, this was it, our passports were stamped and we were going to log another ountry in the travelled to books. Or so we thought. Immigration asks for our Authorizations papers for the car we are driving. We pull our everything we have, but we don´t have one. Apparently you ned different insurance and an official release from the rental agency to leave the country with the car, howver temporary it may be.

So we get sent packing, back 40 km on a seriously rough, albeit beautiful, dirt road to try and get the papers we need to continue south. After almost 20 bucks in phone calls we find uot that its an extra $400 for the verification and it would take 2 days. This information talters our plans entirely. We decide to cut our losses and get as far south while staying in Chile as we can, and that means heading south through the island of Chiloe, then another ferry to the mainland and some dirt road driving. Unfortunatly, our passports hav been stamped as having entered Argentina, and our tourist papers taken. This means yet another trip back to th border to have that info reversed, or we wouldn´t be laving Chile.

On the positive side, even if you drive a really shitty dirt road back and forth four times, for like 200 km, your hands numb from the vibrations, when the backdrop is glacier capped volcanoes and huge blue lagoons and black volcanic sand beaches, the backtracking doesn´t seem nearly as bad.

After a nice meal at a nearby stop, we headed towards Chiloe, bracing ourselves for a long ass day. It was 2:00 pm and I made it to about 3:30 and couldn´t kep my eyes open. An hour roadside powernap seriously recharged both us, and the stink in the car, and we headed off again. Many hours of driving, and a very close to running empty close call, we were on a half hour ferry for Chiloe, and we booked into a gorgeous little hostel on the shore at aroudn 10 PM.

The only place w were sure was open was this one table place, so got some hotdogs and a bottle of wine, and decided to check our the local fair for a bit. Geofy wuold have loved this one ride we watched, as it wan´t even fun, it just set ut to make sure everyone on it got hurt. It looked like a really toned down gravitron that was totally open on all sides and tilted up on one side, however the tiltin was more like a bounce up and down enough so people could almost fly out, and the spining was too slow to hold you in tour seat at all... and there was neither neatbelts or anything to hold on to. Basically everyone on it was getting tossed into the middle and sliding across the whole floor while being bounced around until they lammed into the hard wall on the other side, it was pretty unbelievable actually, and entertained us for a while.

Since 14 hour days tire you out we headed back to the place and rested up pretty early, so we could cover more territory the next day.

Trials and Tribulations on a Road Less Traveled.

So my title is two cliches, wanna fight about it?

After spending a night at "the river" and "the mountain", drinking about 2 bottles of vino tinto in public (each) and having our first run in with chilean cops, we headed further south. (Note: cops here aren´t dicks like back home, and being a gringo with a local who can talk to them about how you are just tranquillo and hanging with them so its okay, actually works.)

Our second road trip day went off without a hitch, though we logged many more a mile. We ended up in a gorgeous city called Pucon. This is yet another town flanked with a gorgeous snow peacked mountain and glacial lake that glows that beautifully eire colour of blue. Did some mountain biking, ate some good food, finally, and met a bunch of amazing people and had a few drinks and a most offensive conversation about scientology. I´m pretty sure I´m on their list because there was an american woman giving me the death stare for about 4 hours while we talked and I explained what they actually believe.

We then Left for Argentina, but thats a story deserving its own entry entirely. More later today.

Road Trips in foreign countries are the best idea ever.

First the bad news....LAN airways sucks and the schedules to crn island are impossible to work around, not to mention the flights are rediculously expensive, as in over a grand US. Also, the flights within Chile are rediculous too, so there shant be fgflying anywhere but home.

The good news. Matty and I went out on a limb and rented a car for two weeks. Got a free upgrade to a beautiful 4 door fiat, oh yeah, I can see the ladies all over this machine already hahaha.

We have logged about 250 km so far and only have abou 5900 mor to go, so we are totally on schedule. We have checked into a little place in a Town called Taclca, which is about Waterloo sized but comepletely surrounded by vinyards. We shall try and do some wine tasting tomorrow, after a long night of wine tasting tonight. Sometimes it takes a couple of bottles to really get the tasting thing down.

Santiago was really great, and it reminds me of most european cities, its big, busy and yet remains beautiful and lively. Had a great time walking around and watching people, as well as cosuing the unnofficial national food, the ïtaliano¨. This is a hotdog smothered, and when I say smothers, I´m talking obscene amounts, with tomatoes, crushed advocado and mayonaise. Matty and I have eaten like 2, and have decided already we need to drastically cut down on the quantity of mayonaise in our diets. It should be a food group here, as I haven´t seen anything served without copious amounts. Anyhow, we could feel our hearts stalling after a couple meals so that is probably a good reason to cut back.

Tommorrow we´ll log a few more miles on the ol´fiat and see a few more things. This is definately a country begging to be driven, with geography thats literally breathtaking every single kilomiter so far, and we have barely started.

Hope everyones doing alright back home! I´m out, like elton, but in the sense of the blog being over, not the other out, for real.

Stress on Vacation Sucks

Stress sucks, and stress on vacation doubles the suck. Its like hoover, but with more ..... well, suck. Matty and I found out the day before we have to leave Corn island that the flights were all cancelled that day because of the wind. The winds aren't supposed to let up for a few days, but the problem is, we have to fly tomorrow, or we'll miss or flight to Chile. So we think positive thoughts and hope the wind dies down. It doesn't. It gets worse.

So in the morning we go the the airport nice and early and sk, are you flying today. The man responds with a very relieving hand motion back and forth as to say.. mehh, that is toatlly "up in the air", pardon the pun. Actually, don't pardon the pun, since I specifically used that to be punny.

So we wait, the plane doesn't show up, so we wait more. At this pioint, I'm getting pretty friggin antsy. Antsy like I get when i'm in a car too long and not driving, and I've just had like 5 coffees. If you've ever ridden in a car with me for any length of time, when I haven't had cofee, you'll know how ansy that it.

Its an hour after the flights supposed to have arrived, and it still hasn't. They start moving things inside and this and that, furthering the stress, no ones telling us anyhting, and even the people that speak spanish don't know what the hells going on. There are still people walking across the runway and riding their bikes up and down it. This is common practice when planes aren't landing or taking off, but thats a whole different story.

So, we sit, and wait, and it feels like forever, every truck going by somehow sounds like an airplane and furthers our hopes, dashing them everytime it fades into the distance down the road. But then....

The flights not going and we are going to miss our plane to chile so we're fucked. I don't know what we're going to do yet honestly, and we can't bring ourselves to talk about it yet. You think you've seen grumpy matty... well try seeing Matty after missing an international flight you can't rebook grumpy.















Ha! That last part was totally a lie. I hope some of you don't read this far and spread rumours like wildfire. Our plan did leave, though it wasn't what I'd call a pleasant flight, We got where we needed to be and we aren't going to miss the next flight. Sweet. Its my birthday, so we might get druhk this afternoon and hopefully sleep it off before flying tomorrow.

If there's been any good stories, fill us in.

Corn Island

SO we've left San Juan Del Sur, which was cool, a few days in that place is all I really needed. It started to feel a little like wasaga beach to me, but with way better surfing, and way less loosers and hot cars.

Me and matty did get a surfing lesson, and of course, it being on a beach renouned for having world class waves, it was certainly challenging at times. I haven't ever seen swells like that in real life, but it was really cool watching some real surfers shred it up. Knarly.

I'd love to surf way more as I think I could seriously fall in love with that sport, however considering I live where surfing just can't happen, I'm thinking its just a pipe dream.

We took a 3 hour bus at 6 am (well it was supposed to be 6 but ended up leaving at 6:45) to the big city so we could fly out to the carribian to a small island called Great Corn. We had read that there was a flight at 10:30 but unfortunately when we got there at like 9:45 in a big hurry, there wasn't one until 2 pm. Ahhh well, that gave us time to enjoy the first air conditioning we had felt in a week, and eat some 1$ sundays, which tasted like heaven in icecream form.

Corn island is a little piece of paradise. I assume this is what most of the other carribean islands looked like before the huge hotels and resorts took over and ruined them. It is filled with palms, fruit trees, and lucious grasses, green as can be and with the most gorgeous warm turquoice water ever. Within 30 feet of the shore theres amazing coral reef with tons of fish.

The main industry is lobster and other types of fishihng here, but its really hurting as other countries arem sending in huge ships to strip the floor of tlobsters for export and its killing the local industry. The people here are huge supporters of the new president as he has promised to put a stop to that. There is also what appears to be a wishfully thinking tourist industry here, though there are very few tourists. Its like they built a bunch of places, but no one ever came, so they all just kind of sat and corroded in the ocean air. Its like a ghost town most places, kind of eerie and beautiful at the same time.

We are staying in a little Tiny cabin with one double bed and bathroom. It's on the property beside the owners house. His name is Dorcey Cambell and he has lived here his whole life, and is a decendant from one of the first 4 families to inhabit big Corn. Hes a great source of information and a super nice man. He leaves us fresh fruit every morning, picked from the trees in the jungle that is his backyard.

He does coral reef snorkelling tours and took us on a super long swim yesterday, all for 10 bucks a night in the cabin and 10 bucks for the snorkeliing. I've asked him to help us try and find some beachfront land on this island and little corn. You can still buy it for reduculously cheap, and I have a feeling that the last unspoiled carribean island, with an airport that's just been approved for international flights and has perfect weather, won't stay that way for long.

The only depressing part of this island is that it is a stop for all the colombian drgu boats. THey use it to fuel up and traffic their drugs. Coke is widespread and cheap as hell, and you can see its influence everywhere. For some reason, I've been seeing it more then most, as I think I have a coked out 40 year old cougar pheremone or something, because in two nights here, two different incredibly coked out old ladies have tried to get some of my sweet loving with absolutely no explanation why they chose me out of the many others around. It's pretty damn disturbing, but Matty boy finds it quite amusing, as im sure I would if i wasn't just hoping they'd stop touching me.

Anyhow, we might visit the baby brother of this island, called little corn, tomorrow. Then we are off to Chile. Keep in touch yall.

Ometepe, 8th wonder of the world.

We just spent a couple days in Ometepe, an island in the largest fresh water lake in central america, mae up of two massie active volcanoes, pressed together like breasts. There is a legend that actually mentions that part, so it wasn´t just my own dirty mind.

Anyhow, we met up with some amazing dudes over there, Harold and Will. Two local guides whohad done stints in the US so they spoke really good english. They took us on a hike up the mountain (think thailand jungle trek but always straight up. Matty was doing fine, I however was just dying. We did make it, and I didn´t even puke on my own shoes or anything, so that was a serious plus. We got to the lookout that sits around 1000 meters and could see for miles across the lake etc. It was absolutely gorgeous and I took a buttload of photos there. We saw a bunch of moneys on the way up and down, as well as some crazy looking bugs.

We partied it up huge withthe guys and the two canadian girls that came wiht us on the tour, hen had to basically hitchike home, as theres no busses after a certain time in ometepe, and that time was much earlier then the time we wanted to stop drinking. It was all good though, as our boys hooked up up withthe firt car going out way, and it didn´t cost us a dime.

The next day we went to a natural spring and it was amazingly beautiful. Crystal clear waters, just cool enough to be refreshing and a robe swing, which also ruled.
There Many a pics of us using that.

We are now in a surfing town called San Juan Del Sur and its a pretty cool little spot, though it is certainly dead during the weekdays at night. We got pretty drunk last night, and I made the mistake of going for the Ron Plata... and I won´t be doing that again.. I´m still not feeling well and it is afternoon. I´ll have to splurge for the good rum, as just over 2 bucks a bottle.

Anyhow, Matty and I are doing a canopy tour then watching a turtle hatching/laying tonight, so that should be amazing as well. Unfortunately the turtles are disturbed by camera flashes, so I don´t think I´ll be taking photos unless ther is enough light to get some without the flash.

Out.

Dia numero Dos

I have come to realise I suck terrible at espagnol, but i am trying to learn as much as I can. The comprehnsion is getting easier and easier as days go by, party because people here speak to you like you are native and fluent even if you explain in spanich you don'[t speak a word. I'm sure it would frustrate some but i really like it, as if forces you to figure it out without english words to help you.

Had many a drink and some amazing conversatios last night, with some cats from Belgium, Denmark and Panama. Everyone hates the US so we all bond over that. Rum here is so damn cheap its almost ludicris. If you buy the cheap swill, which of course i do, its around two bucks canadan for a 26.. RON PLATA!!!! I'm drinking a cuba libre right now in fact.. Then me and matty are off to eat a set lunch for a buck twenty five and wash it all down with 67 cent beers, or dollar rum.

Took some amazing phtos walking around Granada today. First we went on a boat tour around "las isletas" which is a series of very small islands that used to be home to the poorest granadans, but is now being taken over by rish nicas and north americans.. Mansions all over, and one little island that has nothing but monkeys on it. Moneys are totally cool. WE then happend on a kids baseball game and man these kids were impressive, they could play some serious hardball. Diving quick double plays and entertainment in general. A few miles later we came across the Nica version of street hockey, street "footbal" or soccer.. we saw the very end of the game which climaxed in a missed penalty kick that would have one the game. The whole team and all the spoectators erupted in a string of celebratory words I will never understand, it was a very cool experience.

Ohh and our guide in las isletas called me a litlle fatty in spanish and taught me how to say "you fucing guy", but I forget how already. I'll stick with PUTA. I'm sweating like a fat kid eating right now because its sunny, about 32 with very little humidity and a constant breeze.. I hear its raining and single digits back home. Thats really too bad... makes me sad to har you guys have to live in that type of tripe... HA!

We have arrived!

After waiting a very very long hour at the airprt by my lonesome,Matty boy showed up and gave me company. My waiting was no fault of his by any means, I got there early and he was totaly doing it all night.

Our first plane boarded on time, and was a small, dirty shitty little aircraft run by Delta. It was a short flight at no more then two or s hours, however it flt like forever. Mixing no sleep, a washroom that makes you gag because it reeks, and having to take a huge duker for like the whole fight makes time drag on, so I discovered.

That plane was late getting in, so we had the mad rush to our second fight in HOTlanta... but we made it with a few minutes to spare. THere are a lot of fat black women int HOTlanta, and the whole trip of the airport was like a fastfood paradiso (totally a spanish word right there. TIP never bring check in baggage, we would have missed the flight guarenteed if we hadn't had just carryon.

So we sat down and basically started busting a sweat because we're fatties and a brisk walk does that to us. There's a center seat free and we're pretty pumped about that... but them some guy shows up and claims it, meanwhile there is NO ONE sitting in the seats behind us... Who puts three dudes in one row when there's three open seats directly behind you? Stupid delta and it's gay fantasies of three dudes doing it milehigh style.

Anyhow, that flight ruled and we arrived on time... I have no yankee moeny so Matty fronts me some because it costs five bucks US to enter the country. I then wait in line for about 30 minutes at a little drug counter to but toothpaste so I can break a 20 I got out of the bank machine... Geoffy, you would have commited murder on these women, no doubt in my mind.

So then we take the cab ride through the ghetto, and this is serious ghetto... Thailands looking prime compared to it.. and the thai traffic, yeah... no comparison either. We drove by one accident, then saw this live hydro wire totally blow up in a rain of sparks right in front on us, and then saw another truck rip some live hydro wires down with a resounding "POP"... and our bus ride was about two hours max... Everyone in the street just grabbed the downed wires and kept lifting them over oncoming traffic. I got a photo, its not clear but you get the picture, HA punny.

THen we arrived and got a cool little hostel which i am currently chilling in. $.66 beers and 6 bucks a bed including breakfast free internet and a kitchen to cook in. Ohhh and happy hours tuesdays and thursdays, 2 beers for $.66 so so awsome. In fact, I am actually drinking a beer right now becaue it is that awsome.

Email me and such. Later

Best Article Ever

The Case Against Faith: Religion does untold damage to our politics. An atheist's lament.
By Sam Harris
Newsweek

Nov. 13, 2006 issue - Despite a full century of scientific insights attesting to the antiquity of life and the greater antiquity of the Earth, more than half the American population believes that the entire cosmos was created 6,000 years ago. This is, incidentally, about a thousand years after the Sumerians invented glue. Those with the power to elect presidents and congressmen—and many who themselves get elected—believe that dinosaurs lived two by two upon Noah's Ark, that light from distant galaxies was created en route to the Earth and that the first members of our species were fashioned out of dirt and divine breath, in a garden with a talking snake, by the hand of an invisible God.

This is embarrassing. But add to this comedy of false certainties the fact that 44 percent of Americans are confident that Jesus will return to Earth sometime in the next 50 years, and you will glimpse the terrible liability of this sort of thinking. Given the most common interpretation of Biblical prophecy, it is not an exaggeration to say that nearly half the American population is eagerly anticipating the end of the world. It should be clear that this faith-based nihilism provides its adherents with absolutely no incentive to build a sustainable civilization—economically, environmentally or geopolitically. Some of these people are lunatics, of course, but they are not the lunatic fringe. We are talking about the explicit views of Christian ministers who have congregations numbering in the tens of thousands. These are some of the most influential, politically connected and well-funded people in our society.

It is, of course, taboo to criticize a person's religious beliefs. The problem, however, is that much of what people believe in the name of religion is intrinsically divisive, unreasonable and incompatible with genuine morality. One of the worst things about religion is that it tends to separate questions of right and wrong from the living reality of human and animal suffering. Consequently, religious people will devote immense energy to so-called moral problems—such as gay marriage—where no real suffering is at issue, and they will happily contribute to the surplus of human misery if it serves their religious beliefs.

A case in point: embryonic-stem-cell research is one of the most promising developments in the last century of medicine. It could offer therapeutic breakthroughs for every human ailment (for the simple reason that stem cells can become any tissue in the human body), including diabetes, Parkinson's disease, severe burns, etc. In July, President George W. Bush used his first veto to deny federal funding to this research. He did this on the basis of his religious faith. Like millions of other Americans, President Bush believes that "human life starts at the moment of conception." Specifically, he believes that there is a soul in every 3-day-old human embryo, and the interests of one soul—the soul of a little girl with burns over 75 percent of her body, for instance—cannot trump the interests of another soul, even if that soul happens to live inside a petri dish. Here, as ever, religious dogmatism impedes genuine wisdom and compassion.

A 3-day-old human embryo is a collection of 150 cells called a blastocyst. There are, for the sake of comparison, more than 100,000 cells in the brain of a fly. The embryos that are destroyed in stem-cell research do not have brains, or even neurons. Consequently, there is no reason to believe they can suffer their destruction in any way at all. The truth is that President Bush's unjustified religious beliefs about the human soul are, at this very moment, prolonging the scarcely endurable misery of tens of millions of human beings.

Given our status as a superpower, our material wealth and the continuous advancements in our technology, it seems safe to say that the president of the United States has more power and responsibility than any person in history. It is worth noting, therefore, that we have elected a president who seems to imagine that whenever he closes his eyes in the Oval Office—wondering whether to go to war or not to go to war, for instance—his intuitions have been vetted by the Creator of the universe. Speaking to a small group of supporters in 1999, Bush reportedly said, "I believe God wants me to be president." Believing that God has delivered you unto the presidency really seems to entail the belief that you cannot make any catastrophic mistakes while in office. One question we might want to collectively ponder in the future: do we really want to hand the tiller of civilization to a person who thinks this way?

eligion is the one area of our discourse in which people are systematically protected from the demand to give good evidence and valid arguments in defense of their strongly held beliefs. And yet these beliefs regularly determine what they live for, what they will die for and—all too often—what they will kill for. Consequently, we are living in a world in which millions of grown men and women can rationalize the violent sacrifice of their own children by recourse to fairy tales. We are living in a world in which millions of Muslims believe that there is nothing better than to be killed in defense of Islam. We are living in a world in which millions of Christians hope to soon be raptured into the stratosphere by Jesus so that they can safely enjoy a sacred genocide that will inaugurate the end of human history. In a world brimming with increasingly destructive technology, our infatuation with religious myths now poses a tremendous danger. And it is not a danger for which more religious faith is a remedy.

Harris is the author of the New York Times best sellers "Letter to a Christian Nation" and "The End of Faith."

The original article can be seen here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/15566391/site/newsweek

Gorilla Suits are fucking Hilaaarious

Believe me, there will be a lot more to come from this little investment.

October 7, 7:30 PM

The moon came close tonight, and revealed itself bright and early, seducing the western sky.

I watched as the sun sunk away, embarrassed by lust, blushing with a fiery intensity "d almost forgotten exists.

Driving through their distant love affair as Ray Charles gave his soul to my ears, I was enveloped in the most beautiful experience I've had in a long time.

Evenings like this make me feel incredibly alive.

The Highland Games

Not only are there lots of men in skirts, there are dancers to amuse us all. Sorry this took so long to put up here....

Newest Photo Albums

I've been slacking lately, and combined with yahoo not letting me upload before, I didn't post the 3 most recent photo albums... But now, after much anticipation, here are the links:

Pauly's Cottage

Strike Anywhere Show & Dancecave

Algonquin 2006

WARNING: HIGHLY ADDICTIVE CONTENT!

Line Rider - beta by ~fsk on deviantART

By far, the best flash game I've ever played. Want a challenge, try and have him complete one full loopity Loop, and ride off still on his sleigh. It is possible as after much frustration, I did succeed.

"Pop-Rap" Lyrics, and why I can't bring myself to call it HipHop

This is ONLY funny to me because people are so dumb they are paying for shit like this, and supporting it so heavily it's fucking Top of the charts. It's sadder to me then funny however, for the same reasons. Especially when there's so much better music out there, including intelligent "undergound" hip-hop.

Perhaps all you kiddies, or those with minds of kiddies, will understand now when your parents tell you they just don't "get" your music.... Check out these lyrics, the only thing to "get" is a fucking brain that works so you all stop listening to this trash.

Issue Date: 2006-09-23
The Billboard Hot 100

#1: Justin Timberlake - "Sexy Back"
I'm bringin' sexy back
Them other boys they don't know how to act
I think it's special... what's behind your back
So turn around and I'll pick up the slack
Comments: Well he rhymes back with back, that’s some talented shit, especially when he rhymes slack with the second "back" just because its the only thing he could think of. The fact that it makes no sense is obviously not important.

#2: Fergie - "London Bridge" (As soon as I see "Fergie" I shouldn't even have to write any lyrics down, you should already be laughing at its #2 spot.
Oh shit (oh shit)
Oh shit (oh shit)
Oh shit (oh shit)
Are you ready for this?
Oh shit (oh shit)
Ohhhhh
It’s me, Fergie
The Pimp!
Comments: I'm speechless frankly. What a role model. Ohh what the hell, one more: "I’m Fergie Ferg, and me love you long time" WOW, that's just incredible.

#3: The Pussycat Dolls Ft. Snoop Dogg - "Buttons"
Baby, can't you see?
These clothes are fittin' on me
The heat comin' from this beat
I'm about to blow
I don't think you know
I'm tellin' you loosen up my buttons babe (Uh huh)
But you keep frontin' (Uh)
Sayin' what you gon' do to me (Uh huh)
But I ain't seen nothin' (Uh)
Repeat the last 4 lines 9 Times; no I'm not exaggerating, 9 fucking times.
Comments: When did songs cease to have to make sense completely? I understand using different slang in order to maintain flow, but when could you just use words in the wrong tense or simply describe that your clothes fit, using improper grammar, and repeat an awful chorus 9 times and be #3? Excuse me whilst I smash my face on my desk.

A refreshing Gnarls Barkly at #4, not a bad song, and the lyrics are actually somewhat intelligible. 1 outa 10 = 10% = bottom of the class failure.

#5: Sean Paul- "Give It Up To Me"
From you look inna me eye gal I see she you want me
When you gonna give it up to me
Because you body enticing you makin' me horny
When you gonna give it up to me
Well if a no today girl then a must be tomorrow
When you fulfill my fantasy
Because you know I give you lovin' straight like an arrow
When you gonna give it up to me
Bonus: "You no habla ingles but just listen me when me a talk"
Comments: Wow, that’s some original shit Sean Paul, way to diversify from all your other songs. And so you know, when girls don't understand your language and you just tell them to sit there and listen to you talk at them anyhow, it's not really a good move towards "givin' her loving straight like an arrow"

I was going to do the full top ten, but I've absorbed stupidity ad nauseam. Yet another confirmation to my belief that the vast majority of people are fucking idiots.

The Model Employee

Real voicemails left for the quarter life Crisis' own Ukester by a fellow office worker.

The Protector: Reviewed

The Protector
Vengeance Knows No Mercy!
Especially when protecting the elephants you have developed what some psychologists would call "an unhealthy attraction to".

Some of the boys and I saw this movie last night, and let me tell you, it's got a lot of ass kicking. It's got so much ass kicking they had to incorporate different martial arts so "Muy Thai Vs. Muy Thai" ass kicking didn’t get boring.
They even included the rare and ancient martial art of WWE. Master and 9th degree black belt Goldberg showed off the artful moves with a grace only those trained by Sensei Hart in his basement temple in western Canada could ever achieve.

As a bonus, there were at least 80-100 arms broken in ONE SCENE. I'm not exaggerating; it was a 15-minute arm-breaking BONANZA! I feel it safe to conclude this movie has by far the most bone breakings of any film in history, even the long since forgotten medical classic: "bloodletting and bone breaking for amateur physicians: A step by step guide to curing all that ails"

For those of you who enjoy a storyline, or dialogue of any sort, or like when the actors actually speak their own lines, then you best go find yourselves another movie you uppity nosed drama lovers. I hear the film fest is on in Toronto, so see you later. SEE YOU LATER!

So what if one minute Tony Jaa's (main character) frolicking disgustingly lovingly with elephants and in the next scene the guys father's dead and his elephants are gone and he's not really even that upset about dad's death...

And so what if in the next scene this underprivileged elephant farmer is magically in a stolen cab in Sydney, Australia and being held hostage then framed for crimes he didn't commit.
And so what if somehow he ends up making enemies with the biggest gang in town and keeps having to fight everyone of them and the crooked police force who run it.

And so what if after beating them all and finding his one elephant and shipping it off in a truck he’s in a park with the one clean cop in town at sundown, then the next morning magically walking across a bridge with the same elephant he shipped off the night before, yet somehow found, retrieved and brought to a bridge to walk with him in the span of a few hours.

And so what if the top henchman, one of the main characters biggest rivals in the gang simply disappears about 3/4 of the way through and we never hear about or see him again. And so what if he is FAR more upset that his elephants been killed than he was when his own father was, and we never really find out what happens to him at the end of the movie... So what? We didn’t go to the movie expecting a Movie, we went to see it to see a martial arts demonstration in various cool looking locations RIGHT!?.... right?

NO I DID NOT WASTE $9.95 ASSHOLES!
I TOTALLY EXPECTED THE GUY TO BE PROTECTING ELEPHANTS AND IT WAS WAY BETTER THAN I COULD HAVE IMAGINED SO SHUT UP!

Swedish Chef for 14 Solid Minutes

Give me an hour, this hillarity never gets old.

It's Far to long, It's completely Random, But that pretty much sums up P&P's Cottage Party

A timeline in a world run by schitzophrenic drunkards. Can you believe it was really 10 o'clock? It was.. Sad isn't it.


Great song, but perhaps the worst Music choice ever for a party picture slideshow.... But I'm too lazy to change it.

"Anything But Clothes"

I Think it's self explanitory.

Kriss Kross will make ya...........

Anonymous comments are officially cool again, But not as cool as ones with names.

I thought this over, and a few of the boys spoke to me, and I'm going to allow anonymous comments to the blog...

I guess it doesn't matter who writes, it's always good to get feedback, even if you have no idea who wrote it.

I will never post personal insults directed at any of my friends. That is the only time I would ever reject a comment.
I will post personal insults directed at me, and anything else whatsoever that gets sent.

Be warned, if I don't agree, or I just feel like being a dick because I find that funny, I shall impose a righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent. Personified in this case by an 'Orrible cunt... Me (That was just for you slim)

that's the be all end all, I won't change that rule again... Booyakasha.

The Fergus Scottish Festival & Highland Games

As is tradition amongst many folk who grew up in Fergus, I visited the beer tent at the highland games on Saturday night.

I didn't have my camera handy, but Slim had his eyes on more than the puerto ricans that night, and as soon as I get my hands on the videos I'll have them posted.

Good things will come to those who wait..

El Fiesta De Cottage

Here are a couple videos from the long weekend at my Cottage.

There's a couple of jem moments in the first one, see if you can pick them out. Leave a comment with a guess and I'll let you know if they are thones I'm thinking. You'll get a prize if you define them amusingly.



The following is a slideshow with music everyone should know. If you're cool and were hip in the early 90's, you'll know this track. If not, well now you can be quasi-cool. Straight up oldschool styleeees. You can also visit the album here: http://ca.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/poetic_romantic/album?.dir=f9c2re2&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//ca.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/poetic_romantic/my_photos

An open letter to Naked Gym Guys everywhere

Dear GrossNakedGymGuy,

I'm writing you an open letter to request that you please find yourself somewhere to live that has a bathroom. I'm assuming wherever you do live *coughhomlesssheltercough* doesn't have one because you seem to do EVERYTING in the change room at the gym.

I'm sure you think you're in fantastic shape for a 50 or so year old man (you aren’t), but let me tell you, no matter how in shape you think you are, I don't want to see it (and nobody else does either). I could handle it if you dried off and then got dressed, and I had to witness that, that's normal, THAT wouldn't inspire a letter.

The problem is, when I GET to the gym, you're naked, I don't know why you are, because you are usually standing in front of the sink, brushing you teeth (what the FUCK!?) or shaving (What the double fuck?!) or just wandering around the entire change room, perhaps sitting around on the benches doing nothing (What the trifecta fuck?!)

Do you not OWN a towel? I mean, they are cheap as hell. You could probably steal one, and get caught, and the guy you stole it from would be all like: "No man, it's cool, you keep it, you obviously need it more than I do... In fact I want you to have it, for the sake of everybody in here… Know what? Take my spare too."

If that wasn't enough reason to pen you this, what truly amazes me is that I'll go stretch, work out, stretch again, come back and YOU'LL STILL BE NAKED! I know this because for some reason you choose to wander out to wherever I am, within seconds of me arriving. It’s like you have some special Spidey sense but for creepy naked dudes.

You'll be showering, or in the sauna, and then as soon as I step foot in the bathroom, you're there, naked, no towel, and usually totally dry (but you were just in the sauna/shower (what the Quadra factor fuck?!)
A Spidey sense goes off when there’s trouble, creppynakedsense goes of when there's young strapping men around you want to check you out.

I'm no homophobe, and anyone that knows me can back me up there. My own MOM thinks I’m gay for Christ sakes (I’m not). The only conclusion I can come to is that you're recently out of the closet, and you aren't really sure how the whole picking up guys things goes.

Major Tip: Gay porn (or any porn for that matter) is not a realistic “Get picked up” guide. If it were, I’d be a pizza delivery guy, or a burglar in a second. Just go to some clubs (Renicance, Boots and Woody’s), or hang out on Church St. for a while, and let things happen.

I know it may be confusing since there’s a separate ladies work out area in our gym, but I assure you, it's NOT that kind of gym, and there's not nearly enough baths for it to become one anytime soon.

I've compiled a list of the most important points of change room Etiquette for you. These only apply to male, and fat, old or otherwise gross female nudity (If it's hot female nudity, the opposite of the rule applies when marked with an *):

#1) *ANY length of nudeness, is too long.
#2) Towels are good for a variety of things, most importantly: drying, and covering ones junk and/or ass. *They should be used whenever clothes are not worn.
#3) Other than showering, practice all other forms of hygiene in your own private bathroom. These include but are not limited to: Brushing of teeth and shaving. Most importantly, if you MUST perform these at a gym, be wearing SOMETHING.
#4) *If you are within a cars length of another guy while naked, you are too close.*Back away slowly, and do not make any sudden moves. Do NOT put your hands in the air.
#5) Limit your time in the change room to no more than 15-20 mins, anything else is just fucking odd.(* if I’m in the change room, SUPER* If I get to bring my video camera and there’s hot massage oil around)
#6) Do not use your creepyguysense for ill will.

Follow these simple rules, and everyone will be better off.

Regards,

The Ghetto Booty Thrill

P.S. *No, This thrill is not for you.

I'd laugh, but I'm too busy crying...

You'll know what I mean after visiting this site.

For a laugh less conflicted with, well, utter disgust, read the commentary in response to each posted "hatemail".

http://fsm.typepad.com/hatemail/

No one does a better job at solidifying my beliefs than the same people who attempt the opposite.

Is the lifestyle I live, and love, normal?

It's 4 am Saturday night, and as is usual, I've downed more drinks than I can count without taking my shoes off.

I'm having the regular off the wall conversations with the boys.
Slim's been doing it up extra hard this last little while, (in his opinion) and has noted to us a concern that he needs to cool it off.

I've been in the same position before, so I understand his feeling. More importantly, I know that those feelings are dangerous, and only lead to regret. This "taking it easy" last a few days at most, and you're left with nothing out of them other than a memory of how you wasted a couple good weekend nights, watching everyone else have more fun than you.

So we managed to crush his spirit for "healthy life" and "not getting trashed as hell" and he hopped on board, and had himself another night worth living.

Then I thought to myself, I wonder if this is normal.

For those that don't know us, the following is a pretty standard breakdown of quiet weekend in our lives (meaning not a cottage party, trip to Montreal, Algonquin, Niagara, etc.) I've provided this solely for comparison purposes:

Finish work around 4:30 or 5 (for those of us working) and head home immediately, busting with joy its the weekend.

Try and have a nap for a couple of hours, so that you can be sure tiredness won't slow you up later. Realize every single time you try it fails, and you don't have time for nappy naps.

Around 6 or so, go out for some food. Probably Indian, Thai or Sushi.

Head to the LCBO/Beer Store on the way home from dinner. For those not living in Ontario, the LCBO is an evil monopoly which is run by the government and is the ONLY place you can buy liquor. Beer stores the same thing, but only has beer.

Get home and realize you forgot mix. Say fuck a LOT. Drive like a manic and get something at the closest possible store.

Make your first drink/crack the first beer. Probably around 8. Watch TV, hang on the deck or in the hottub as friends start arriving.

Drink many more drinks (around 6-12 depending on the night) whilst playing poker, watching TV, listening to music, playing music etc. (or a combo).

Try and decide what bar to go to. Say fuck a LOT again.

Decide there's no point in trying to decide, and just call cabs anyhow.

Take FOREVER getting to the cabs, ensuring the drivers are pissed.

Get dropped off somewhere downtown.

Try and decide what bar to go to. Say fuck a LOT again.

Go wherever there's no line. It'll probably be a pub, or a patio if its summer. It will always be a place a whole lot of sitting and chatting can be done, perhaps with the chance at a dabble of dancing.

Buy drinks, in fact, buy so many that you must deliberately visit opposite ends of the bar (if there's only one) or go back and forth between all the bars there because if only one person serves you, they will think you are fucking NUTS.
They also are less likely to cut you off if only buy like 2 drinks from them, rather than triple, or maybe quadruple that.

Buy numerous rounds of shots, using the above technique.

Stumble out of the bar only after the lights turn on, loudly laughing at the hilariousness of what is going on. Go eat food. Streetmeat or pita's of some sort seem to be a standard.

Walk home whilst eating and recounting the funny shit that happened during the night, and perhaps finding new ways of describing how inebriated you are.

Get home, grab another drink, and pile into the hottub... Realize how much life fucking RULES EARTH.

Drink water, and conversate about ridiculous things, or the state of the world and politics.

Sleep as long as humanly possible. Wake up and curse out whoever stole all your money because there's "no way" you dropped 50, 60, 80, 120 bucks or whatever you spent that night.

Th'End.

Now the question: Are there that many other groups of 25 year olds guys like us???,

The majority being single, who hang out every weekend and throw it down in fashion that would make most college parties seem like family movie Sunday?

Do we really have far more fun than everyone else? Are "normal" 25 year olds really as drab as we assume?

Please give me some feedback... It's incredibly interesting to see what people think of us, and how they live themselves. A cultural jouney begins with you!

A quiet Friday night. Oh yes, that's right.

‘Twas Friday night, and the air was hot.
So patio drinks the boys did got.
With Shots of Jager, We got on our stagger
And many more beers after that.

And many old acquaintances from Fergus abound,
We reminisced and caught up and generally got down.
With great conversations, and forcing Arnman drunk
We knew he’d be late, but we was getting “crunk”

So last call came, and went, and we stood up to go
Got 50 feet down the road and came across two dumb hoes
They somehow imagined we were talking to them,
It was so obvious we weren’t we told them again

But one girl persisted, and so we gently asked
What the “FUCK is your PROBLEM” And she let out a gasp.
And she raged and she screamed like a crazy fucking bitch
And her friend tried to stop her, but ended up doing this:



And I laughed for a moment, but the other one screamed
“I’ll fucking Kill you” and she came running at Arny
Arnman faked to the left and spun to the right,
Crackho lost her balance and went down hard, What a sight!

And then I had time, to reminisce about it all
That drunken slut didn’t even reach out to break her fall
Man she must be hurting like hell this morning still
Lesson learned: If you can’t take the drink, stall outa the swill

And the cops they were laughing, and got out of their truck.
So the fucking nuts bitches took off like scared ducks.
And we kept on walking, stunned as can be.
Thinking out loud how much more fucked could that be?

And so now as I think back about that girl eating sidewalk,
I almost piss laughing so hard I can’t talk.

The Condo Mentality. A Rant by Quarter life crisis' Own Slim

Although this is a pathetic attempt to air out my grievances in a bigger forum (i.e. I will take a lot of shit for being a huge cynic etc.), I really do want to hear some feedback from different people who aren’t in our stupid videos.

The boys in the group have heard a lot of complaining from me since I’ve been back in Canada about what I have dubbed “The Condo Mentality”. To explain this simply (i.e.: a Websters definition) is almost impossible, but I will give it a try…

A person with the “condo mentality” is someone who doesn’t really know what the “basics” of being human really are. Now, the word “Condo” is included since most of these people live in Condominiums. The majority of these people don’t even realize that their behavior/opinions are completely ridiculous, and won’t listen to reason or a clearly stated argument that completely blows them out of the water. They will usually respond with a line such as “…but those are the rules” or “…yeah, but this is what we’re going to do anyway” when confronted about their controversial conduct.

I will attempt to give some recent examples of behavior that I have seen since returning to Canada that will hopefully clear up some confusion;

1. This is my personal favourite (or biggest pain in the ass) that I can recently remember. The guys all have to listen to my rants about this particular person that I have never even met, and criticize me for being a heartless prick (Bev). I must say that this is the biggest example of the “CM” that I have seen in a lonnngggg time.

In Toronto, next door to Matt’s place, is a neighbour who is very concerned (read: standoffish and just plain rude) about his parking. Since the city of Toronto tickets us with a constant barrage of $30.00 parking tickets for overnight parking in the street, we like to park in the parking space that is conveniently located right behind Matt’s house when we visit the T-Dot.

In order to use this parking space, you need to go between Matt’s house and his neighbour’s house by using the shared driveway. It has just enough room between the houses for a car (with it’s mirrors pushed in), and at the end you can turn right into Matt’s single space, or left into the neighbor’s single space. There is absolutely no way to turn around on Matt’s property without “encroaching” about 1 or 2 feet onto the neighbour’s space (which is ALWAYS empty) in order to drive back out between the two houses again safely. I have tried to back out of this spot before (much to the laughter and ridicule of the boys since it took me about 15 solid minutes of maneuvering to get out without scraping the entire paintjob off of my car).

This is where the “CM” shows its ugly face. The neighbor is very vocal and open about his dislike for any vehicle crossing his property line, even for just a few seconds while a driver backs up to turn around. Matt and his landlord basically told us, that this “gentleman” gets very angry about this.

Now, this may sound like there is no problem here to some readers, but hold on a minute. Lets look at this from another perspective…

You don’t want us to touch your precious gravel with the back wheel of our cars for 10 seconds. Why ? Who fucking cares!? We aren’t rude about things, or spinning our wheels. We are NOT doing ANY damage to your property, in fact, that’s exactly what this piece of property is meant for, parking cars on!

To quote Billy Joel – “ …we might be laughing a bit too loud, but that never hurt no one”

All we want to do is back up for a second, and then drive out safely. What’s the big deal !? Well, this is the “Condo Mentality” at it’s very best. There is absolutely (read: NONE) NO reason for wanting to enforce a useless “rule” that you have made up. Welcome to the club asshole.

All this makes me want to do is to lash out towards this man. I have thought and dreamt of “returning the favour” to him, to really make him have a reason for being such a heartless prick, but will I ever do any of these things? Highly unlikely. For example;

a) Strap on a pair of cleats and run all over his lawn.

b) Get a shovel and hoe, and do a bit of gardening.

c) Sprinkle a “fertilizer” on his lawn that will turn it a nice yellow colour.

d) You get the idea….

Now, of course, I don’t want to do something like this, but, I feel sometimes as if it really is necessary. I guess I am a heartless prick myself.

As another example of the “genuine goodhearted” people of the world, I would like to share another quick story:

2. My father works for a home company where he is the “Renaissance Man” who checks out and fixes everything after a home is finished and the new homeowners move in. Now, obviously, as a homeowner of a brand new home (with beautiful wall to wall carpeting, new cabinets, and brand spanking new appliances, and sooooo close to Hwy. 401! - meant to be sarcastic), you would want everything in your home to be perfect. I can understand that, I mean you paid $200k + for it.

But my understanding only goes as far as legitimate problems and things that actually matter.

Recently, my father was asked to repaint an entire front door of someone’s new home because it was “the wrong colour”. No problems he thought as he made the 15-minute drive to the home with a can of paint and a smile to do the job. When he arrived, he looked at the door, and after determining that it was the correct colour (white), and that nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary, he asked the homeowner what he meant. The homeowner responded that the top of the door hadn’t been painted yet. My father was shocked to say the least, but responded favourably and fixed the “problem”. No problems ? Think again….

The top of the door !


The 2’’ part that no one can see, ever. Unless you got a ladder to inspect the top of the door, there was no way to tell that this problem ever existed.

Now, I will side with the homeowner for a brief second…what would the guests in my home think if they somehow found out that the top of my door was an “off-white” non-painted colour that didn’t exactly match the rest of it !?

I believe that would be the day when your friends would leave your “wine and cheese” party where the guests enjoyed a fun-filled evening of Parcheesi games, Conservative Party banter, and talking about the latest Republican fundraiser- hosted by Bill O’Reilly. They would NEVER talk to you again !

The door must be painted ! My house must be perfect ! Those are the rules.

Now, if you’ve actually been able to read this entire rant about what I find the most annoying thing in the world. I congratulate you. I’m sure it was quite a task! But, I’m not finished yet. I invite those of you brave enough to post a comment on this website about your own example of the “Condo Mentality”. Perhaps we can even get together around a campfire at Phil’s cottage in the coming weeks, sharing our loathing for the human race while everyone else has a ball partying inside ! I know I’m down. See you there!

-Ash

A lesson from Quarter Life Crisis' Own Hawkdog: How to deal with condo mentallity losers: Be a fucking asshole!

If you're not an asshole to begin with this may be difficult, as feelings of guilt will slow you down. Keep in mind the amount of sleep you lose feeling guilty for your assholish actions will be far less than the amount lost from fuming over how badly you'd like to smash the face of that condo mentality fuck head, and your list of plans, that were never carried out, to get him back.

For the example: Picture a ghetto ass apartment building in an ugly part of waterloo. It's the kind of building that struggles to maintain tenants. Leases are broken due to impending jail time and things of that nature. Needless to say there's always plenty of parking space available. However the "rules" are, only one parking spot per apartment, and no guest parking.

Due to the popularity of the cool residents of a particular unit of this building, there were always plenty of visitors requiring parking. Sometimes for matter of hours, sometimes for a matter of minutes. This caused parking conflicts. Despite debates with the parking enforcer (a resident of the building who performed the duty strictly for his own sense of authority) multiple tickets were handed out, no excuses. Thems the rules! After an obscene amount of tickets were handed out (still unpaid) and notices literally glued (We're talking elmers style, white fuckign GLUE!) to car windows, a boiling point was reached.

Quick action was taken. The result being slashed tires, keyed car panels and several other annoyances directed in the parking guys direction. This lead the parking guy to take early parking enforcer retirement. Yeah! He quit within days. You see one thing these asinine petty losers have in common is cowardess, so overrun their fear of breaking "the rules" with a good old fasioned legitimate fear of serious harm (to property and body) and the problem solves itself. Ohh, and just one final thing; Fuck that parking guy and his "thems the rules" condo mentality.

Bigsmit's experience:

I remember a day when I went to pick Ash at his Grandmother’s condo. (Most of the tenets are retired I think). Her phone was busy so I couldn’t buzz up or call to let him know I was there.

While I was trying to buzz up 2 ladies came down to exit the building but wouldn't open the lobby door. They just stood and starred at me while I was trying to buzz the apartment. Probably wishing they didn’t leave their mace at home today. Only after I left and was out of sight back in my car did they leave.

After about 20 min I said screw this were running late. So I decided to enlist the help of at least 1 of the 3 people I could see sitting on their balcony. I figured maybe they could just walk next door and knock on his Grandma's door and let him know I was waiting. They must know their neighbour they have all lived there for 10 plus years I figured (maybe I was out of line?).

The first lady was on the second floor. I stepped out of my car and said "Excuse me I wonder if" Before I finished the sentence she got up dashed inside and slammed the door so hard I was surprised the glass didn't break.
She probably proceeded to dial 9-1 and waited for a noise in the hall to indicate I was coming to accost her...to dial the final 1.

The next person simply ignored me.

Finally I got the attention of a lady who approached her railing very cautiously. She assumed I could jump 30 feet in the air and pull her over the edge I guess. Anyway she agreed to walk 15 feet and let Ash know I was there.

Once Ash got to the car he let me know that the "helpful tenet" gave him shit because I was parked in Mrs. Jones space and I should move. The helpful tenet obviously knew we would be on our way in under a minute once she told Ash I was there. However she still felt obligated harp on him because if Mrs. Jones came home we would all be in a world of shit and the Sun would crash into the earth and kill us all.

To quote Ash "The majority of these people don’t even realize that their behavior/opinions are completely ridiculous"

Well If I don't act like a paranoid freak. Or stare out my window looking for Hooligans, gossip with Martha and think every person I see is evil what else am I going to do? GET A FUCKING LIFE.
If I ever develop the "CM" smack me..even if you don’t know me.

Slim, the Male Puerto Rican Fucker

4 am and it's been hours of drinking strong.
Our conversations always end up so wrong.
Have a listen if you like,
So it's not totally boring,
I've included pictures from that night.
And videos, this poem sucked.



Enjoy a listen into our abyss.

Please just stop.....

I had a lengthy entry written about the ongoing conflict between Israel and Lebanon here, and I was about halfway through when I just couldn't continue with it anymore. I just need to say a couple things to these "leaders" sending people out to murder civilians, while they sit safely behind their armored doors.
If you guys were children, you'd be throwing a tantrum over that other kid using your toy, kicking and screaming on the ground. At least then you'd have parents to pick you up, hug you and hopefully calm you down... make you realize it really isn't worth crying over.

Stop. Please just stop. I wish I could scream that in all your faces.

We all hear the statistics on the radio, and read them in the news. We must force ourselves to understand that every statistic had a life that left more than just a number behind. A life that left a mother weeping crumpled on dusty earth, or a brother crying clinging desperately to a lifeless hand, hoping, somehow it would squeeze back. They leave a posse, just like ours, with a wound in it's heart that nothing will ever heal. My only fear is a product of that image, and I can't begin to imagine that kind of pain.

There is more to say, but it's so hopeless.

I'm done. I just can't think about it anymore, and I can barely see my screen.

I'm sorry.

Road Rage and Gawkers

Driving; it can be a relaxing journey, a fun adventure, or a stress inducing Mobile heart attack. Today as I was driving home, a gorgeous red ~1986 dodge neon come whipping up around me. As I admired its beautifully "weathered" body, and temporary spare tire on the front drivers side, I thought to myself: "Wow, what a car!. I wonder what type of fine gentleman is piloting this automobile."

As you might expect, it was a man of class and style unequalled to my eyes for as long as I can remember. He was sporting a very visibly receding hairline, and a long loose tank top that matched the gritty greyness of his teeth. This guy put Leo DiCaprio to shame. If he was a burger patty, he'd be made from 100% pure hunk.

And Boy was he in a hurry! He cut me off, and then later passed an old lady using the center "turn only" lane, jamming the pedal to the grounds and releasing the roar of the beast under his hood! It sounded like he had unleashed a whole bunch of bees in a tin can! the power was simply frightening! That's a lot of exclamations points!

I couldn't be mad at him, I'm no saint behind the wheel, and this guy had obviously had a hard day fucking animals and making child pornography. The massive quantities of rust on his "temporary" spare led me to assume that his original tire had JUST popped and he had to get it changed before it closed. If he didn't he wouldn't be home to beat his wife before she had a chance to make dinner. Nonetheless he was a good pace car so I followed him a little, trying to keep my distance.

Then, another surprise: What did I see before me? An ambulance, sirens blaring, on the opposite side of the road.
Now, because this guy was obviously in a rush driving the way he was before, I figured he'd notice the 2 green lights blaring us both in the face as we passed the accident, and we'd both continue on at our normal pace.

Not so! It appears that the sight of flashy lights instantly hypnotizes animal fucking paedophiles. This hypnotism results in slowing to 20 KM/H while blankly staring slack jawed at the scene, until someone (Me) tries to bring them back to their conscious senses with a polite tap of the horn.

The side effect of being abruptly removed from beastypaedo hypnosis is obviously rage, as I got the middle finger! Imagine! ME! Being a "turn the other cheek" type fellow, I made sure not to hold my own middle finger on the windshield then whip around him as he tried to gun it and prevent me from getting in front.
That would have been "reckless driving" and as you all know I'd never be part of that. BUT If I did do such an awful thing, rest assured I would have gotten around him with ease while hanging a thumbs down as I passed his ass, and he would have yelled things at me that would make sailors (or Ozzy) blush. He then would have backed off like a punk bitch when I let him get beside me to feed him eyes of firey hell and death awaiting. But since I'm "turn the other cheek guy" that stuff would never happen.

The rest of my drive went quite peacefully, and it gave me some time to get started mentally on how I was going share this tale with you all.

I hope you've enjoyed it. And please, don't gawk, or drive shitty cars, or have sex with children on videotape, or animals, or have bad dental hygene or go bald..

Bill, Geoffy... sorry bout that, I know, its not your fault...Sometimes those animals are "acting too damn sexy".

Interactive Post! Share your thoughts, and they'll be Added

I've decided to let all of those who read my blog to have a chance at sampling the glamorous life of a successful, hilarious, wealthy, and extraordinarily good looking, world famous Blogger. Since this person is only rumored to exist, I'll tide you all over by letting you get your own words on mine. If you can't settle for a somewhat doing okay, middle class, not butt assed ugly, not famous at all bloggers life, well you might as well end it now, because you're dreams of anything better will never come true.
Which brings me to my next point:

I am soliciting submissions! How would you spend the last week of your lives, if you knew with 100% accuracy, you were going to die in 7 days??? Tell me now!

My good friend Doc brought this idea forward, so I'll share what I can recollect of his wishes. (Doc, feel free to leave a comment correcting or adding anything I left out. I'’ve tried to do it justice.)

From what I gathered, he wants to go on an absolute rampage of excess, in all its forms. Preferable this would happen in Tokyo, or Vegas as a distant #2. The purpose being he wouldn't be aware of a single second of any of it:

Hard drugs, alcohol, rooms filled with prostitutes and every imaginable perversion would be the highlights of this "trip" (I am the punnyest man alive). There would be lines of all sorts of powders sniffed from all sorts of crevices off all sorts of women. A non stop extravaganza of Insane parties and falling over intoxication, destruction of property on a whim and an "I'll do whatever I feel like, immediately upon thinking it, and not care about the consequences whatsoever" attitude.

There was a consensus among those in the original conversation that a "bodyguard" would have to be hired, not for protection, but to ensure he gets Doc the hell out of wherever he is when something nuts goes down, before the cops get there.
Doc did NOT want to spend his last days in jail, and I don't know if he mentioned it, but he may have been willing to shoot it out with the fuzz to avoid it. I would anyways.

On the seventh day Doc rested. HA! Just kidding, Doc's not some weak lazy biatch that needs rest after seven days. He would hire a plane, and have it take him up as high as possible. Then a friend, or acquaintance would shoot his ass full of good heroin, and push him out. Imagine it: floating, high as shit, through the air to your impending doom, and enjoying every second of it. Sound like a good way to go to me.

Just so I don't seem like I completely copped out again, I'll add my own ending, because frankly, I think the first 6 days would be about the same as Docs.
On the 7th day, I would take the fastest motorcycle I would fly to San Fran, then rent the fastest motorcycle I could and drive it to the golden gate bridge. My "bodyguard" would be waiting with about 500 feet or so of extremely strong lightweight rope, and a ramp. We'd block traffic, I'd get high, and then IÂ’d get the bike up as fast as possible and jump off the bridge. Surprise! The rope would be around my neck, and when I reached the end of it, it would rip my head off my body in a sweet, bloody explosion, and my head and headless body would fall into the water below. Now thatÂ’s an ending to a good week.

This post won't be interesting unless we get a few more stories, so please leave a comment here, or e-mail me, and I'll edit the page so they are included.
Enjoy your time in the quasi spotlight, because most of you won't ever get a chance at a real one. HiOhh.

Big Smitty Has been the first, and so far only cool person to read this entry: Here is his entry, I enjoyed immenselysly (it rhymes!):

1. Grab nearest chick and give her a ride she'd remember for all eternity.

2. Drive to nearest lake with 40
pounder of rum and 2 cans of coke. Finish the bottle and watch the sun come up (If possible).

3. Repeat #1.

4. Run around naked, forcing a conversation with every person I pass.

5. Find that stripper from the falls and actually let her do what she wrote on the poster.

6. Get as many different types of drugs as possible. Dump them in a blender with a bottle of rum and make a smoothie.

7. Repeat # 1

8. Track down as many Brangilina fanatics as possible and smack each one of them.

9. On that note track down Tom Cruise, Britney Spears, Michael Jackson, David Blaine, Oprah, Ellen and George Bush and smack the shit out of them too. "Smack, Smack…Where's your Scientology now Tom…Smack, Smack"

10. Attempt to roll and smoke the world's biggest spliff.

11. I would also like to have a drink with Johnny Cash and Marlon Brando but that would have to wait until after I was dead.

12. Finally have a living wake (a party for the ages) with all my friends at a cottage and in the morning I would die. As a last request burry me with my pizza oven.

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:
Big Smitty, that was actually pretty funny. It's too bad we all know the felating pizza bed would be where you'd stay the entire time, good fantasy though.
hahahahah

David Paige said:

This Doc friend of yours has some wild ideas! I'd love to sit down and have a drink with him and hear some more about what he has to say. Regarding the seven-day-to-live scenario, my plan would have initially involved lots of quality time with friends and family, but after reading about Doc's plan, I'd have to agree with him and say that going down blazing is the way to go!! Long live guys like Doc.

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:
David Page, Nice post. It's amazing two people currently living in New South Wales, Sydney, Australia feel the same way about this, and enough so to give write a comment giving serious props. The worlds a small place. Hahahah

"Anonymous B-Rod" Said:

First off if your going to live your life to its fullest why the heck would you not want to be aware of every second you have left here on this lovely planet called earth? Though, I suppose if youÂ’re going to be blowing yourself up and all that 'fun' stuff then ok sure, I rather not feel the pain either. Especially, if you have one week to live.
Personally, I rather enjoy every second I have left breathing & have my last week be as painless as possible.
& Seriously all this hard core drinking and drug business, I mean ok unless I was into all that while still living life & not dying. Then maybe IÂ’d have a difference of opinion. But for me it's like why waste all that money on crap, when in the end all you're going to do is kill yourself before life kills you? I see it as a sign of fear...your trying to control the inevitable.

My ideal way to exit this life would be much less extravagant, I suppose. So lets say I take all that money...assuming this 'Doc' paid for any of it to begin with, if not WELL then IÂ’d just gather up all my savings...give what-ever amount to friends & family, along with personal possessions, the rest I would use for me..& Then Travel the entire effin' world see all the places I haven't had the pleasure of visiting, making sure I see the ones on my TO SEE LIST first.

Basically, seeing the world with my own two eyes & experiencing it not just hearing it via some radio or friend or what have you, as well as not just watching it from the T.V BUT actually PERSONALLY exploring the various cultures & broadening my view on life thus far. On my last day I would probably want to return to the comforts of my own home, spend my last hours with those who have meant the world to me AKA, close family & friends, because really these are the people who have made my life worth living thus far.

Before IÂ’d die, I would want to make amends with the things that I had been to chicken shitted to say & just say it out loud & make sure certain messages get to certain people. After that I am willing to die a peaceful death, in my own home, with friends & family there....my final wishes would be to have my ashes thrown out into one of the oceans.

Haha yea I know not as hardcore as the guys' version, but IÂ’m female...& well, view things differently I suppose.... hopefully that was interesting enough.

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:

And that my friends, proves our point. Girls aren't funny.
It also seems they lack the ability to judge how long things take to do, girls can't even Die right..

Thanks for the post anonymous! We look forward to many more!


"Anonymous B-Rods" Rebuttal:

HA alrighty "Ghetto Booty Thrills", i really wasn't looking for 'funny' points there or anything...and by the way please explain how my post goes to generalize all girls?...i am after all one female out of many...& it was feedback from just MOI..judge me as you wish...that's just your opinion toward me.
Clearly it was stated: "How would you spend the last week of your lives, if you knew with 100% accuracy, you were going to die in 7 days???" ---> Now, correct me if i'm wrong, but does it say anywhere that funny was a requirement? ...No y'all just wanted some feedback in return..and well i decided to add mine.

& to comment on the whole generalization that we girls seem to "lack the ability to judge how long it takes to do things"...well my defence to this would simply be that in my response i did say MY IDEAL way ..meaning that IF i could have it my way....
Ne whos goes to show guys will be guys...am i surprised? ..haha definately not.
LOL

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:

Great response, and I mean that in a totally serious way. In fact, I looked up your IP because I was impressed, and it said you are from Mimico, Ontario. Where the FUCK is Mimico, and who are you! Reveal yourself please. You deserve proper recognition.

Thanks again for the comments! Keep em' coming.

Niagara Falls: The Bimbo of cities

Approach this post with caution, as it isn't funny. I tried, but I sucked. It does contain a healthy portion of rant, which may amuse, or annoy you. You've been forwarned.

This past weekend we visited Niagara Falls. This place is like huggies, completely disposable, but not biodegradable.
I was involved in a Friday night/Early Saturday Morning "event" that I thought was going to go quite well. Unfortunately, it just ended up solidifying the idea for this blog in my mind.
I know you’re all curious what I got into, but the reality is, I didn't get "into" anything, which was part of the problem. HA!
All I can say is I got stuck for a brief time in a conversation so brutal the plate glass door and second floor balcony fall were looking like a viable escape plan to lighten the pain of the monstrous stupidity I was being malled by.

So why is Niagara one of those gorgeous people you just want to bone right up until they open their mouths? (To speak anyhow... BOOYAH!) I am on FIRE!

Because the town took this:













An absolutely glorious "wonder of the world" type beauty of nature.


And then they go and plaster this (and worse) all over its ass:

I’m no historian, but I’d bet dollars to donuts the planning of the town moved along as follows:
Sir Jesimpson: "Like, cast your eyes on this wondrous sight, Lord Parisilton"
Lord Parisilton: "Mine eyes are totally filled with such glory beyond that which I have ever seen, It hath beauty stronger than like the nicest prada bag I've ever seen."
Sir Jesimpson: "Those are totally strong Words, but I am like in agreement Sir."
Lord Parisilton: "We must share such a triumph of nature with like, all the lands."
Sir Jesimpson: " Yes, It is totally our duty and stuff. But first, We should like totally construct a town with luxuries for the commoners, and comforts so plenty it will draw crowds from around the world"
Lord Parisilton: "You mean like, totally plaster the place with a million roach motels, awful American fast-food and "family dinning" restaurant chains, whorehouses and identically terrible souvenir stores selling garbage?"
Sir Jesimpson: "Throw in some gambling and ensure the place is raped of any sliver of individuality, culture or substance, and you got yourself a deal."
Lord Parisilton: "We shall make it so!"
Sir Jesimpson: " Like totally!"
And so it went, and the masses they did come, and they LOVE it. Reinforcing again, my point that “the vast majority of people are fucking idiots.”

To wrap it all up: Seeing the falls for the first time is spotting that gorgeous gal, or lad. Then as you walk up to talk to them, you hit Clifton hill, and that’s the part where they open their mouths (to talk). Heart breaking.

MINDFREAK!

Today, I Cop out.

It's been a few days since I updated, and I feel a little like a selfish lover not pleasing my wanton harem.
I don't feel like writing anything special today, meaning I can't seem to come up with shit.
What I will give you is a promise that after this weekend, we'll have plenty to write about and show you.... Nia ga ra Fawlls (say it like the ghost of Christmas past in Scrooge, featuring Bill Murray)

Anyhow, if you want something to read, or pictures to oogle, visit this site: POST SECRET . It's not always funny, but it is always incredibly touching. I really like it. It won blog of the year for 2005.

I shall see you on the flipside, hopefully with pics of my going over the falls wearing a Superman cape, riding a stolen mechanical bull.

Another Movie review, this one by me.

Halk, you've inspired me.
I just watched King Kong and felt I needed to get the word out to the public about this movie.

LONG!


Like I said, I needed to get "the" word out.
Alright, a couple more: Fuck Kong, fuck him in his stupid ape ass.

A random movie review by Quarter Life Crisis' own Kev Halk

Don't be Scurd, It's Running scared.

Last night we watched the movie 'running scared', it was entertaining at least. Started fairly stylish but ended up being a huge mess of every random thing that could happen.
Paul walker said the f word in every sentence.
The kid shoots his father because he badmouthed john wayne, then the kid runs away, gets kidnapped by a homeless person, who shoots some crack dealers, then he escapes and runs into a pimp beating a whore, then gets kidnapped by pedophile killers, then the mother shoots them.
oh yeah, he also went to the hospital to switch the shells, and the prostitute with the kid used the gun to rob a pharmacy to get an inhaler for him and then they met up in the diner and the kid hid the gun in the back of a toilet, and the Mexican janitor took the gun to his house and lost it in a game of poker, so Paul walker hacked into the personal records of the diner and went to the janitor's house and busted up his card game.
Then he's like 'where the fuck is the gun?' and the guy's response is he sticks up his middle finger so Paul walker snaps it and everybody in the room starts laughing. He lost the gun to some other Mexican dude so Paul walker goes to that guy's work (a car garage), and they battle and the guy pulls out fire and starts trying to burn him, then Paul walker steals it and threatens the guy and the guy confesses that he just sold the gun to the pimp, whom he later stabs in the neck after throwing a handful of creamers in his face.
Chazz palminieri tries to blackmail the mobsters and gets blown up, then the Russians are in the mob and think Paul walker set up the Russian father, so they question him, then the one Russian Paul walker was accused of trying to assassinate takes of his shirt and walks away, so the other Russian shoots him in the back. The only reason they're there is because the Russians think Paul walker was trying to kill the one guy, then the other Russian just randomly shoots him.
Then everybody gets killed, then Paul walker and the kid stop for breakfast and kill a pimp. Then the meth lab explodes killing the Russian's wife, then Paul walker confesses he was an UNDERCOVER COP WEARING A WIRE THE ENTIRE TIME!.
Then he dies and his wife attends his funeral.
Then she meets up with him and says I'm never burying you again.
He was a cop the whole time wearing a wire? Didn't he kill like 15 people trying to make sure the cops didn't find the gun that could convict the guy he was trying to convict?
It was like 10 movies in one.
Oh well, that's my rant.
What else did we forget...
Oh yeah, he also beat the shit out of his dad with a bat when he was 14, so the old guy keeps dropping spaghetti on his lap., and the kids really like the hockey team, then at the end there's hockey players skating around shooting pucks at them and trying to kill them, and he has to shoot the random hockey players too.
I thought they'd turn to zombies, or some aliens would come, or they'd end up in a jungle or something.
It was entertaining only in its awfulness.
2 hours 2 minutes of never knowing what the fuck was going to happen the next minute.
Oops the guys dad came out of the house and killed his wife.. Now an alien's chewing on his father and ate the gun, so he has to chase it back to the jungle and gets kidnapped by natives.
And then the jungle gets stormed by the army and they kidnap the guy and send him to bootcamp and the pimp's also in bootcamp and he kills him, and finds out the Russian kid is actually his son.
That can be the sequel!.
I'll give 2.5 stars

That was a post at the request of Ash, written soley By Kev Halk. (the red face) I've edited it very slightly so it flows more like a review, as it was taken from an MSN conversation. Enjoy Randomness at its finest.