Saturday, April 28, 2007

dad always knew i was a natural born killer, he just never told me. he wanted me to find out for myself.

dont you fucking know what you are?

lets all get back to where you've been love

the fresher the air the hotter my concience. clear, like a rainy day. but fresh like a dandilions yellow.i need this to hold on to, just as much as you do too. we're not far off from bottm lines and rosy cheeks and traffic fines. thats the last time i let 10 year olds wash my car for a good cause. ever tried counting all the bricks on a cobble stone road. while driving? i do. i do all the time. all day long. every day. it mostly explains the half awake relativity most of us glide through this previous and upcomming week with. fine by me. the less i have to hear all the yammering on about canucks and sounds, and trucks and bands, and competition and condescent, and indecision and resentment. the sun is out. its warm on my toes. its making me squint, subsequently, hard to see the screen. thats fine. i feel like a detective when i squint. like the whole world is sneaking around and doesnt know that i've got my eye on it. watching. noting. compiling evidence against it. and one day i'll stop by its house and drop off a dosier chock-full-o evidence concering the world and its whereabouts and activities. then i'll light it on fire, and promise to let the world off the hook... if it goes down on me. and don't think that's too far fucking off of anybody looking to get theirs. their piece. their 15 seconds. their pay off. their revenge. what the human being would dare to do. will for ever shock and amaze you.

francis' nose is alittle wet. this dog commands peace. its gentle. quiet. its long orange hair is softly blowing in the wind right now. like a roomance novel cover. for golden labs. i'm gonna get a dog. i'm excited. i don't know when. but i'm getting one. and his name is gonna be 'whalley'. i don't know what kind of dog its gonna be, but it needs to be a 'whalley'.

you make this all go away. you make it all seem alittle farther and little watery. which is fine. you need at least 2.5 litres a day.
so remember kids. stay hydrated and fight fist first.

this is the street my house is on.

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Thursday, April 26, 2007

you asked for a magic show but all you got was some half assed tricks and a couple of clowns with guns

so here we are. in the stood. locked down. finally rolling. we've begun drums, and as per usual, mr. crippin is crushing. tom and dave are playing along and we're pre-pro'ing as we go. we asked for an extra week so we could feel alittle more secure with the pre-pro. and its working. we have the breathing room and we're blazing through the songs. its gonna be a great record. we're all really happy with the studio. it was tom's birthday last night, we got him a cake, and a banner and i got him a rad present! (okay i can't keep a secret, i bought a toy horse and a toy pig and i glued the horse to the pig so that it looks like the the horse is sexing up the pig.) i rule. dave and i went to the store today and bought a bunch of bags of little green army men and we're decorating the whole studio. we're all having a great time. this is going to be such a great record! we're all very excited! and you guys won't know what hit you! i promise that you will listen through the whole record and fall in love with every song. haha. thats bold eh! yeah. i'm probably lying! haha. anyway. i'm gonna go eat some potatoe salad. OH! and in true a.d.d. fashion, i've found a new hobbie! HOT yoga! yes! its incredible! i've now gone 3 days in a row and i'm going to try and do an entire month in a row. 31 days. we'll see! anyway. here are my picks of pics of the week!

word to a mother.

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Monday, April 23, 2007

on throwing love;

please, be careful love, of throwing love, at lovers; my love.

love may not always land where you wish it to land. your aim is seldom acurate, and often wild and unpredictable.

also, to throw love at ones face is both perilous, and quasi-flirtatious, neither terribly indictable, but both being most certainly lucrative.

in turn, i offer you a letter my love, on love, in love. as a return toss of my love, to where ever it may land, i pray you accept it graciously wherever. be it your face, your elbow, your rotator cuff or your fanny, may it land with the most unpretentious grace. i sound like a 50 year old. 2001. the chronic.

a picture i took, while at my most favourite place in the whole world.

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