friday afternoon
on the way to mississauga at about the bronte bridge on the QEW, my friend richard rear ends another car and smashes his front end. everyone was ok, including the car, only cosmetic damage to his hood and bumper. so we pull off the hi-way and a cop just shows up out of the blue... so the accident gets reported and we're off.
later that day
after meeting up with some friends from high school and purchasing some hooch we proceed to a party somewhere around sheridan. all i have to say is "oktoberfest", there was more sausage there then all the hot dog carts in toronto put together. anyways i call my girlfriend on my circa 1995 cell phone.... it cuts out. that’s it, this is the last time... i casually throw it over my shoulder and off the 8th story balcony. thinking that’s that. back to the party, i notice a stack of old "vice" mags under the coffee table and said to richard "how awesome would it be if he had the specials issue" and sure enough richard pulls it out of the stack, what are the chances of that. as promised i steel the magazine and proceed to leave the apartment building. low and behold there’s my cell phone, and its working. Jan 2004 my cell phone gets run over by a car and left in a snow bank... still working. April 2004 rolls down a 60 ft rocky embankment at the niagara glen... still working. June 2004 gets thrown off the 8th floor of a building... still working. at this point i'm thinking that my phone is under the control of some demon. so i whip it against the asphalt a few times… still working. what’s it gona take. i start jumping on it and finally it dies.
saturday afternoon
wake up. go home. eat. shave. shower. try to go to the tattoo convention but… there is something wrong with my visa. ok screw this, lets go back to st. kitts. we had to take back roads all the way back due to the condition of richards car. get back. go out for a few beers. sleep.
sunday morning
wake up. write this. go climbing.
on the way to mississauga at about the bronte bridge on the QEW, my friend richard rear ends another car and smashes his front end. everyone was ok, including the car, only cosmetic damage to his hood and bumper. so we pull off the hi-way and a cop just shows up out of the blue... so the accident gets reported and we're off.
later that day
after meeting up with some friends from high school and purchasing some hooch we proceed to a party somewhere around sheridan. all i have to say is "oktoberfest", there was more sausage there then all the hot dog carts in toronto put together. anyways i call my girlfriend on my circa 1995 cell phone.... it cuts out. that’s it, this is the last time... i casually throw it over my shoulder and off the 8th story balcony. thinking that’s that. back to the party, i notice a stack of old "vice" mags under the coffee table and said to richard "how awesome would it be if he had the specials issue" and sure enough richard pulls it out of the stack, what are the chances of that. as promised i steel the magazine and proceed to leave the apartment building. low and behold there’s my cell phone, and its working. Jan 2004 my cell phone gets run over by a car and left in a snow bank... still working. April 2004 rolls down a 60 ft rocky embankment at the niagara glen... still working. June 2004 gets thrown off the 8th floor of a building... still working. at this point i'm thinking that my phone is under the control of some demon. so i whip it against the asphalt a few times… still working. what’s it gona take. i start jumping on it and finally it dies.
saturday afternoon
wake up. go home. eat. shave. shower. try to go to the tattoo convention but… there is something wrong with my visa. ok screw this, lets go back to st. kitts. we had to take back roads all the way back due to the condition of richards car. get back. go out for a few beers. sleep.
sunday morning
wake up. write this. go climbing.
so yesterday i decided to quit smoking. i've been doing ok with it, until now! i'd give my left eye for a smoke right now. there's nothing like hot rich tar laden smoke gently coating every alveoli. why does death have to taste so god damn good?
sweat beads
eyes shutter
body twitches
heart races
loneliness sets in
vacant bed
empty heart
memories burn
insomnia
eyes shutter
body twitches
heart races
loneliness sets in
vacant bed
empty heart
memories burn
insomnia
sweat beads
eyes shutter
body twitches
heart races
loneliness sets in
vacant bed
empty heart
memories burn
insomnia
eyes shutter
body twitches
heart races
loneliness sets in
vacant bed
empty heart
memories burn
insomnia
