good times

Camping went exactly as predicted, with absolutely no surprises.  We all sat around, sipping champagne in the warm sun and occasionally dipping our toes in the water, or taking a gay boat ride.  Gay as in fun, of course.  It was all very dignified, despite what this picture may seem:



Okay, so it got a little hectic.  More than a little, I suppose.  It rained like a motherfuck, something allegedly unusual for Salmon Arm at this time of year.  But we still got a good night of roughing it, and generally causing chaos.  I'm actually scared, for the first time in history, of looking at and capturing the video footage.  There's over seven hours worht that'll need to be trimmed down, and I"m actuallly concerned that there will be some things that normal humans are not meant to see.

Naturally, these video clips will find their way to the Youtube account as soon as they're ready to go.  Look for me drinking from a hotel lobby fountain, 
and some crazee MikeFreak shit.  It's nothing more than a Mindfreak rip-off, but oh well.

Yes, the first morning we woke up, Ben was passed out in my car with a beer next to him.  Pozniak was in his car, crying presumably.  Bran had disappeared, we aren't sure if he was in his tent or not.  Schaap was busily jacking it, I suspect, in his impractically oversized tent.  

And the rain kept on, which would have sent us back to Abby early, if it weren't for the quick thinking of Bran's mom.  Eventually we were allowed to stay at the Podollan Inn, a swanky hotel, for the entire afternoon and second night.  Proof:



There's more pictures to be viewed, but they can be found at the Facebook account.  So go check that shit out, it's big man.  We were able to destroy a lot of shit up there, and now I'm excited to get the video clips posted.  Yeah!

Here's something out of a nightmare... you know you're in trouble when I become the only lifeguard on duty at the hotel pool:



Lots of booze contributed to me diving off and into the pool, which is also on video, if Schaap ever decides to add it somewhere.  It's on his camera, sadly.  
Damn that bastard!  He's always one step ahead...

So that's camping.  Check out the Facebook account for all the best pictures.  And yes, I'm starting to accept Facebook as something other than another goddamn MySpace, but it'll still take a bit of warming up to.

Finally, a baseball update.  Our season is progressing decently, we've won like six games, lost four, and had four rain-outs.  That's more wins than losses!  And tonight the other team had to forfeit due to lack of players, but we got a practice game in.  Won 16-1 anyway, because we're the best!  And it wasn't regulated by the league, so drinking in the 
outfield and at bat was somewhat encouraged.  Rad!  More to come in a few days, so keep it here.  

Ahhhh!

drunken camping (prequel)

Before I disappear from Abby for a few days, I should explain a bit.  The next three days (Monday Tuesday and Wednesday) will be spent up past Salmon Arm, camping.  We'll probably destroy the entire area by the end of it all, so that'll be pleasant.  I should be back in time for the baseball game Wednesday night though.

As a gift before I go, me and Schaap worked out what all us campers will be looking like on the first morning (Tuesday morning).

Michael:

I'd be waking up, crawling out of the tent, head pounding, in need of a beer to soothe the hangover.  I'll see...

Schaap:

He'll be sitting in a nice camping chair, sipping water and eating cereal and steaks and strawberries.  He is occasionally staring over at...

Ben Cawley:

Ben is sprawled out on the campsite table, empty bottle of Jack Daniel's in one hand, a fully skinned bear pelt in the other.  There's no sign of the bear, but the pelt seems fresh.  He is vaguely aware of...

Chris Pozniak:

Chris is huddled behind some trees, quietly rocking himself back and forth, crying and singing lullabies to himself.  He has only a shirt on, and one sock.  His ass seems to have suffered a bizarre sort of trauma.  And we're all wondering...

Bran:

Our Salmon Arm chum, he seems to have disappeared sometime during the night.  Everyone recollects a different time they last saw him, but we haven't heard anything more.  We're all hoping that he turns up, alive and well.


Let's see how accurate these predictions are...

white pride

Perhaps my last entry was too violent towards Facebook, and the ideas behind that particular site.  I am starting to see more aboot how it works, the ins and outs so to speak, and I guess it isn't as bad as I once thought.  I'm still against it, but I may warm up to it eventually.

Anyways, I've had some issues on the MSN lately, my screen name being "white pride".  Of course it's not meant in an offensive way, but people seem to get pissy at every little thing.  Five people now have started bitching at me, before blocking me and probably wishing death upon me.  These people seem to think that I'm taking after Nazi ideals, or that I suddenly idolize Adolf Hitler, and so on.  Like what the fuck?  Do people associate being proud of one's heritage and race with being racist or something?

White pride is intended to convey the fact that I'm proud of who I am, and the history behind where I come from.  I am very much white, and while I don't necessarily think whites are better or people of other colors are worse, I do tend to lean partially towards who I am.  It's not meant as a jab at other races, quite the opposite in fact.  I would hope that someone of a different race would be proud of who they are, too.  I'd rather see "brown pride" or "black pride" or "miscellaneous pride", because it just means that you're glad to be who you are.  That's really important, to accept yourself for who you are.

I don't think white people are automatically better than others just because I'm white myself.  If you still think that's the case, then fuck off, I don't need to hear it.  If you can accept that I like who I am and where I come from, but that I also respect the fact that everyone comes from a different background, then good for you.  Everyone deserves respect for themselves if they agree with who they are, where they come from, and so on.


Now, with the once again unpleasantness behind me, I can get to the various good times lately.  If by good I mean stabbings and foot trauma.  Last week we did up a drunken night, and at one point little Ryan Schaap ended up stabbing me in the hand twice, during some shenanigans.  My hand looked something like this:



He got me once in the finger, and once in my middle knuckle, although that oen was more of a little poke.  Still, it hurt like a bitch, and when the video footage is ready, I'll show you the idea we had of cauterizing the wound.  That wasn't a particularly good idea, but oh well.

The next week... this past Sunday I guess... I ended up wailing my foot pretty hard into the corner of one of my walls, giving myself what X-rays called 'traumatic tendonitis.'  Here's me holding my injured foot right after, featuring Dude Beer:



This also leads into the supposed 'breakfast nook' that Schaap somehow created in my place.  This is a wide angle view of it:



And behind where the camera is in that first shot:



There's actually a lot more room around here now that the blue couch has been moved to its current location.  It's entirely possible I will keep it this way.  But realistically, I have other plans on how I wish to re-arrange things around here.  Hopefully I'll get some drunken help.

Finally, we have the mystery picture of the week:



A shiny dollar to the person who comes up with the best explanation of what they think is happening in this shot.  Be creative!

fuck facebook!

Yes, I'd say fuck Facebook, this MySpace knock-off that seems to be all the rage amongst the kids these days.   I was coerced into signing up, so I guess my profile can be found here.  It should be fairly obvious that I haven't taken it seriously, and don't fully plan on it anytime soon.

The way I see it, it's like MySpace, where twelve year olds go around trying to get as many people on their 'Friends' list as possible.  The difference being that Facebook seems to be a bit more personal.  I will admit I was mildly intrigued briefly at the thought of talking to some people from back in the day, elementary school style or high school style.  Then I started looking at the people from then, and I realized that I really don't want to get to know any of them again.  The whole point of leaving them behind was because either they pissed me off, or that they became street trash/junkies, and therefore people I didn't want to associate with.

Hell, most of the kids I graduated with in school are either pregnant or on drugs, or some combination.  They thought they had such bright futures, but they ended up ruining it.  Not to say that everyone's that way, but it can seem that way.  And not to sound bitter or anything, that's not the intent.  Just I see poeple that at one point thought they were going places, or were better than me, and now they've been reduced to almost nothing.  Insignificant masses with boring or piss-poor lives, making me recall why I didn't want to associate with them.  

So that's that.  If it serves a purpose eventually, then maybe my opinion on it will change.  But fuck the pieces of shit from what I consider to be a past life.  Fucking pricks, now I remember why I stopped wanting to be around them.  Ahhh!

Turning to more amusing things, did up a good weekend the last three days, here's some random pictures of the festivities.  We begin with a random brown guy hitting Ben with his car in the Lee's Chicken parking lot:



Then we move on to me and Ben making some silly faces, for no real reason:



From there, we find me having sex with a pink flamingo:



And Ben standing next to something weird that we still don't understand:



And my personal favorite, me ready to slit Ben's throat while he's ready to bottle me, all while drinking various beer:



I guess that's it for now.  Fuck Facebook, in the Face or something.  At least until further notice.

Finally, The Rolling Archive has been updated, with a classic entry from this time two years ago.   Back when Revenge of the Sith came out, and my reaction.  I think I was also suspended during that time, and got into a car crash.  Good times!
 

keep rolling

It's Tuesday, not Monday, so whatever!  Anyways, let's start today's catch-up with my latest tattoo:



It was done up like a month ago, and is quite a thing of beauty.  The shading is good, the colors are keeping... overall, I'm quite proud of it.  So hat's number five in the books.  Six and seven are in the planning stages, but are a long ways off yet.

A little bit ago when Bran was in town, Bryce joined our drunken antics, and we were almost able to re-enact the New Year's Shooting, only this time without any brown:



It's a lovely rifle, I'd say.  Bryce and his wacky antics, I tell ya...

Moving along, this was from much more recently, it's a shot that illustrates somehting called Dude Beer:



It's pretty fucking extreme, that's its actual name, so I grabbed a six pack of it.  Not terrible beer, and it is Canadian, apparently "brewed by a bunch of union dudes up north", or so says the label on the side.  There's also maple leafs all over them.  Also featured is a bottle of Jagermeister, and my blue hair.

This is what I look like if you were drunk looking at a drunk me:



Not sure how it turned out like that, but it's a rather rad shot, I'd say.  Well played little Schaap.  Well played.  

Finally, here's me trying to do a scary face in the middle of the night, sometime after talking at length with a homeless guy:



I guess I succeeded in making a silly face.  The blue is somewhat vivid too, so that's nice.  Shortly before this shot, we had talked to a homeless guy by the hospital, who was carrying around all his shit in a shopping cart.  We suspected he's the asshole that's been stealing all the copper wire in the area, but we couldn't be certain.  He didn't want to be flimed either, what a douchebag!  I've said it before and I say it again, fuck the homeless.

Turning my rage to other matters, why the fuck did Linkin Park have to suddenly become shitty?  I got the illegal download of their new CD that comes out in two weeks, and it's fucking trash.  It's got nothing in common with their first two CD's.  No metal and rapping, it's almost entirely pussy emo shit now.  THe rapping was necessary, it's the only thing that made it distinctive from everyone else.  Now they may as well go on tour with Good Charlotte, they sound so fucking similar.

There are two songs that have Mike Shinoda rapping, but then there's no Chester on them.  They got so big because they combined those two elements so seamlessly in the past.  Separating them and giving Chester all lead vocals was a mistake.  So I'm pissed off aboot that.

In response, I offer this submssion.  Paranoid cat is looking back at Hitler cat, who may be planning some douchebaggery most foul, much like Linkin Park did:



Fuckin' pricks.  Luckily kitttties are awesome.  And there's still new Ozzy Osbourne CD coming out soon to look forward to.

back again

Guess it's been a while, maybe three months or so. I forgot my password to get on here, because a drunken stupor made me change it. A fair bit's gone on as of late, with highlights to be explained... right now! With pictures!



Bran was back in town for a few days, in like February, so we made a drink called Crib Death and got into it at some house I'm unfamiliar with. He knows them though... at least he said he did. So we drank, and they had cats around, one of which Bran attempted to doggy, it seems. It was a precious moment.

Let's see, there was Andrea's birthday, and a few drunken nights scattered aboot. I was able to keep touching up Madness V, whch was finally committed to DVD, so that's nice too. Almost two hours running time, and there's a lot packed in there. It was pleasantly reminiscent, and reminded me of some good times that I otherwise may have forgotten. That's the benefit of having a camera crew filming pretty much everything that goes on around me.



In the end of March it snowed, and I took this shot of outside my window. That's end-of-March weather, as nonsensical as it may be. It was ridiculously sunny for days afterwards, too, so I can't explain this shit.

Then I got bored one night, and did this:



Those are matches in my hair, blended in with the giant spikes to make some sort of weird tizzy of frantic hair. The flammability of my head skyrocketed with those in my hair, but it was rad. No serious accidents or burnings, although I came close when I tried to make Kraft Dinner and got close to the element. How silly of me.

More recently, for hair adventures, I went for this:



It's semi-permanent blue, and I got it to support the Vancouver Canucks during their playoff run. Unfortunately the cocksuckers lost to the Anaheim Pussy Ducks by 4-1 in the series, less than a week after I dyed it. I wanted then to do good and keep going, but now my hair doesn't make any sense. And it's turning green as it slowly fades. I was considering going red, to support some other team like Detroit, but oh well. When that picture was taken, it was just before I washed the dye from my hair, so it looks much more pretty in the open and dry. Not that there's any shots of it yet...



This is my cat, she seemed very happy and warm, but kind of plump. This was among the first pictures I took using my new cell phone, that I got sometime in April. I finally retired the old Motorola blue beast, after the power button fell off and the screen had some issues. It's a lovely new phone, but I don't have the slightest clue why people would need a camera and MP3 player on it like I've got now. Silly American bastards.

I updated the Rollng Archive to reflect a past entry, making reference to the grand slam I hit around this time last year in baseball. Yes, the season has started, and we're off to a decent start. A few wins, some rain outs, one or two losses... I won the game last Thursday too, by hitting the winning run in. The Hard Lemonade tradition started things off, but now I've found something called Rockstar Vodka, it's 6.9% and has the taste of the energy drink. That's my new tradition, so let's hope it works.

Also in that Rolling Archive entry you can find a message from that time period that little Bran left me. It's quite a trip, this was before he went nuts and did his latest tour. It's like a groovy time capsule, that entry.

Now fuck off, I'll make another entry sometime in the next... well Monday, probably. There's still more going on, I'm just too tired to write right now. Fuckin' Google bought out these websites, so it takes an hour just to sign in now. Fuck-asses, the lot of them! Anywyas, I'm back, don't worry.

how sad

 I just encountered something really sad on my drive home tonight.  I was behind a van on Marshall Road, and it swerved suddenly to avoid soemthing on the road.  I had to as well, apparnetly he had hit a big fat raccoon in the street, and it was very dead.  And I saw a second raccoon, running back and forth between the sidewalk and its dead companion, all confused and unsure of what had happened.

It just made me sad for some reason, that the living raccoon didn't know what was going on, and why the other one was dead.  I was stopped at a light for a second and watched him as he went back and forth, running to the sidewalk when another vehicle would go by, then returning to rub its nose against the dead one.  

Is it weird that this made me sad?  I wonder...