I don't know, just where I'm going.
But I. Gonna try. For the Kingdom if I can.
And I guess that I just don't know.
I'm going to try to nullify my life...

I guess Bram picked his Mom up at the airport. Apparently Steven was being a jerk.

But it looks like a space station.


And he two-handed Space Gun, so I'm psyched either way.



I guess Truckasaurus was here.


Remember when Bram went to a Bullfight for about 30 seconds then sold this for $250?



As for what I've been doing. Mostly hanging out with this guy.





Barf fixed my camera. It was kind of like a Crip party or something.



This is only interesting to me because I get to say it's bad news whenever Bram cooks.



I tried to get back on the party-blog wagon. I'd rather drink. Jamille knows every lady ever.



And Strangler knows what's up. I'm not sure who the dude is that is being way too brah.



This is way cooler than talking shit.



And he said he will never,never do it again. And of course he won't. Not until the next time.



My "department" is a department now. Good-bye Centre for Academic Writing, hello The Department of Rhetoric, Writing and Communications. Kristin threw a party to celebrate our diplomas sounding way better.



As you can see, there's a bright future for its graduates.


I got this taken care of. It wasn't as bad as I remembered it being. Maybe that was the hangover?



Andy's Crib.









Or my living room. It's the same thing, it just has some junk and a body in it now.


This is the part of the blog where I tell you about the books I have read recently.

This one is pretty good if you're interested in European history. It's nice when a baby-boomer calls out his generation for being totally bogus and irrelevant. Otherwise, it's cool because there is a lot of discussion of Tito's Yugoslavia. You're psyched right?


If you're looking for an excuse to be racist and just happen to be upper-middle class, Dutch, European, homo-sexual or just plain not a practicing beleiver of one Islamic religion or another, you'll probably like this. Remember, they're pre-enlightenment and poor. That makes you better than them. And yes, it's okay to call them Goat-fuckers on National Television because you're rich and have rights and it's your country. Theo Van Gogh is dead and I'm glad.



Ward Churchill is probably my favourite non-fiction writer. He just doesn't fuck around too much and calls bullshit on the American left for being a bunch of cry babies. I just sort of like radical anthropology or whatever. Buy guns, we're going to need them.



It won't surprise anyone when I say I liked this one.



But it was so good that it made me buy this. It was really disapointing.


In terms of all-time disapointments, I think I have new winner. Totally un-readable.



After years of refusing to buy a new edition of practically anything, I broke down and bought a Bukowski book. At first I was really disapointed, but it pretty much came through in the end. There were just a lot of sub-par anecdotes in between. But I think that's the point. Check it out, it's not bad.



I really thought I was on my way to having a new one in the top five list, but once they get off the river it kind of falls apart. That Tom Sawyer kind of kills the whole thing. Yet, the first 200 pages or so are incredible. If someone wants to pay me to travel down rivers I would be cool with that.


So, since it was really nice out tonight, I decided I needed to go for a bike shred. It was really nice. Pictures are sparse and bad, but live with it.







Apparently this is the ______ building. It's kind of a big deal or something?



I thought you may have forgotten what my hallway looks like.


I got this little gem in the mail the other day. I'm better at buying intertron art than you are.



I wish that I was sailing the darkened seas.
On a great big clipper ship.
Going from this here land to that.
In a sailor's suit & cap.
Away from the big city
Where a man can not be free.
Of all of the evils of this town.

And all the dead bodies are piled up in mounds.