highway 420


it didn't take long for the smell of weed to permanently to set in the car. you don't smoke dope for over a week and it still smells of the green tang. i'm convinced there's a bud somewhere buried beneath my receipts that deserves to be smoked. depends on whose in the car this is either a good thing or a bad things.

the other night i had a priest sitting in the car and was scared shitless whether he's detecting the weed. as it turns out my visiting polish cousin met a priest while waiting to get his travel's visa. both of them were travelling to my humble spot on the earth and promised to meet up when they settle into their new surroundings. i guess in poland this sort of relations are not out of the norm. pope paul ii was a chillin priest hanging with the horny youngins and getting them all high on jesus and the likes. new priests saw JPII climb to the top of the company ladder and now emulate the best.

the priest i met knew this and we agreed to meet at my house and then travel to nearby pub. there i am driving a priest to a bar to get gassed with. he took the orders and me being the driver soon hard cold beer in his hand. the priest seems to be easy on the don't drive and drive law we've got going on here these days.

the priest was cool and cool with the whole jesus propaganda talk by keeping it to a minimum and speaking on more humanist language. life is this. life is that. we're searching for that grand void no one or nothing will ever truly fill. we have to fulfill ourselves with whatever it is and if you are stuck, try this thing called god. nothing about damnation and choosing between evil and good.

after few beers, he took out his wallet to pay to reveal an old $10 dollar now out of circulation. it's been a while since the priest has come to canada. the bartender took it nonetheless making petty small talk about paying with old money is travellers who eventually return knowing there is no better place on earth than we they are at that moment. this was the priest first time in there however.

i dropped the priest off at his place of stay and when getting out, he turns to me and says, "you should be getting high on god." it is evident that he detected the smell of weed and finds me to be a person of voidness he spoke of earlier in the evening.



so come at the end of august, i'm packing my slightly overweight buttocks into my car and driving till i hit the pacific coast. be it vancouver or la la land, the pacific is anxiously awaiting my arrival. or so my spider senses tell me so. i imagine dusty prarie roads, grungy diners, truckers galore and lack of sleep. when there, pop in broken social scene's you forgot it in people album and blaze myself retarded with the song pacific theme on repeat.

all of this came to me in a dream few nights ago and is obviously trying to tell me something.

sadly, no one has taken overt interest in joining me in this adventure, including misty queen herself. something about liking her summer job while i just want mine just to end and willing to depart a week early from that dehumanizing environment and just drive.

i knew a couple that did something like this and less than 2 years later were exchanging their vows. not that i am hinting at anything of that sort but spending some 10 odd days with someone in a car is a good make it/break it relationship litmus test. if there are no takers, i shall go on my own and become a highway hermit. reach moksha.

what would rock about this trip is upon my return, i depart on my 8-day pearl jam fest seeing them a total of six times. one essentially meaningless road trip followed by witnessing my idols do their thang.


smog blog


i wake up every morning way too early for my liking. i have a cup of disgustingly bitter coffee as the cure to get me to put on my pants and then watch cp24. the daily smog advisories for southern ontario are slowly killing me. shit i cant remember a day that we didn't have a smog day announced. i think about our poor planet getting sicker every year but we do nothing but give little advisories to avoid prolonged outdoor activities. we've destroyed the planet and now only we can do is hide from the mess. i then have a bowl of frosted cheerios and head on out into that disgusting air my television tells me to stay away from.

can't wait for the summer to end and school to start so i can unwind again for the next eight months. working fucking sucks. so does smog. i might need to get away for a while because this awful air is cramping my style yo.

some relative of mine from poland is coming to stay with my parents for the summer on monday. i'm not too thrilled about it as it means busting out the handful of simple polish words i know and being a tour guide for the next tw0 months. the other reason i need to get away. he's coming here to make money doing some hardcore labour with those shady polish businesses. bosses whose office is the 1984 ford econoline is a sure bet you won't get paid on time or the proper amount. it reminds me of a story from last year and a friend of mine who worked for one these dudes. the friend only got paid when the two of us camped outside of his 1st floor apartment window for 4 hours talking trash. when we first got there, his wife said he was in chicago visiting friends. ha! then he came out with a wad of cash and then told us to "play nicely." the money was nice but a direct deposit would have made things a lot more better than digging through phonebooks to find the certain dude. that day i felt like a detective or something of equal importance. looking through phonebooks, crossing off names, staking out at 2am on sunday. afterwards, he treated me to mcdonalds and more than just the mcdeal. he was rolling in such dough the combo deal was-a-coming.

advice of the day: don't work for polish people who do not ask for no information about who works for them. gives them an excuse not to keep of track of who has to be paid.

good night and go screw yourself


da da dada


on july 1st a couple of us headed to the harbourfront to check out a free gig by the likes of feist and apostle of hustle care of the good folks at arts and crafts.

i swear, i saw the goddess of blogging raymi herself among the attendees. i kept looking over a few times and tried to conclude whether or not it was her, until a few glares from misty queen singalled she wasn't too thrilled with me gawking at other ladies.

today, i read raymi's latest entry and as it turns out, she too attended the concert.

in the past little while ive had several spotings of my favourite bloggers around town but its weird just going up to them and being all like, "hey dude/ette! love the blog!" i saw one guy at the modest mouse concert last weekend and he's been a favourite of mine for some time. somewhat of an influence behind this treasure of mine. sadly, he hasn't written in ages and really wanted to say hi but realized, he's just a private dude like me throwing a few words on the intraweb not asking for attention when attending concerts. so i just threw glances and he looked rather uncomfortable by them. it's like he knew what was up and that i was onto him.

i'd be creeped out by that sort of shit and prefer to remain rather private to avoid those possible moments. stupid interaweb fans might be cool and all, i'd just think i'd set them up for disappointment.

i'm not that great people!

anyways, i was listening to floyd earlier and came across a thought that had me thinking. that ol' saying that there's plenty of fish in the sea. what happens when two find that same fish? us less intelligent species devote evening hours to these sort of conundrums.

later scumbags!


Dailies

old thoughts become new revelations