i'm afraid of violent reactions. i'm afraid of pain. i daydream about strangers completely freaking out on me. i sometimes imagine customers smashing my face through a display case. i fear normal people on the street will become suddenly outraged and push me down to the sidewalk for passing them too quickly.
i'm scared of these things because i constantly talk down to everyone. maybe, subconsciously, i feel i need a punch in the fucking throat.
i don't want to be like this. i don't want to be afraid of your reactions. i just need you all to be a little less moronic so we can simply speak like fully formed human beings. i'm tired of trying to explain myself to your lifeless, empty eyes.
read a book. eat a salad. smoke a joint. get laid. get your goddamn shit together then, get back to me. get back to earth.
this weekend in toronto, there was an air show and a hot n spicy food festival and a keg party and yegor's birthday and it was a long weekend and beau got back into town and the film festival is coming and the shitty kids are going back to school. yay!
i ate oysters as a brunch appetizer and spent more than eight bucks on a bra for the first time in my life and lounged by a wading pool and drank a lot and rode bikes around and got some sun and took some pictures and had a band practice and bought garbage pail kids cards and ate a fried chicken club sandwich and almost shit myself in kensington and shopped for clothes and cooked artichokes for the first time and got laid and got comics and decided to lay on the couch instead of watching inglourious basterds. sorry, kim.
i made a video of a weird reflection on the wading pool in bellevue square park because i was high. it's below. hit up flickr for all my current shit.
there was a lot of talk today about cyclists and our rights in the city compared to those of motorists, pedestrians etc. it was mostly spurred by darcy allan sheppard's murder on monday but has been an ongoing battle in toronto for years. i've been spit on, hit (with cars and hands) yelled at and am almost doored daily, so - i break the rules.
me, on a bicycle, at 2am, running a stop sign is not going to kill anyone: you, sitting with your car door open, ignoring bike bells and being completely ignorant of your surroundings, will.
i'm tired of an us vs. them mentality between cars and bikes. the one good point that was made (in an otherwise useless dialogue the torontoist hosted this morning) was that we are caught up in a "war on choice". some bike lanes, some death traps. it's safe to ride half the city and harrowing in the other. we need to work together to make it safe for everyone. toronto is supposed to be a bike friendly city and, were this the case, i wouldn't narrowly avoid preventable accidents every morning on the way to work.
friday night we saw ohbijou and bocce at lee's palace for the 'friends in bellewoods' compilation release/eviction party and, well, from what i remember - it ruled.
on saturday we went to the cne! i'd only been once before and phil had never been at all. we tried to spend as little money as possible so, after $10 each admission we spent a couple bucks more on tickets for ride (we only ended up on three - one of which seemed modeled after the joke of a haunted house from the simpsons) we won a couple bucks at crown & anchor, ate ribs and ice cream waffle sandwiches, hung upside down and feared for our lives, saw every incarnation of white trash middle ontario and were wildly electrocuted in an effort to light up uncle fester's bulb.
after the ex we went to a house party that had a secret garden and later passed out with the tv and lights on after a blacked out ride home, so i guess that means fun?
you know how everything is especially poignant when you're sitting drunk, alone in a public park at night? well, i totally just had one of those moments.
i just got off work from the bullshit dance party i supervise every wednesday and i went to one of the chinese restaurants around my house for some pork before bed. when i walked outside i heard a girl jokingly say to her boyfriend, "don't tell me what to do." and he slapped her across the face. HARD.
honestly, i saw her head whip around as i was unlocking my front door. i wanted to say something. i wanted to fucking destroy the dude that slapped her. i wanted to rip his goddamn guts out and shove them down his piece of shit throat. i didn't, partially because i was at my house but, mostly because he had a car full of dudes that are more than likely also complete wastes of skin.
i'm sick to my stomach and there is nothing i can do about it because, evidently, these bros have no issues beating up women. i hate that i have to witness incidents like this when i don't have all the power in the world. if it were up to me, hey fucktards, you'd be crippled and dickless.
you retarded pieces of shit. we don't need or want you here. you make all of us look bad and i hope you crash on your drunken ride back to whatever bullshit west 905 "city" you came from. i fucking hate you and i hope you die before you can ever reproduce.
we stumbled across the quality inn one night and ended up there five times in two weeks. one time it filled up with ossington run-off, another we quietly retreated when we noticed tommy lee (the elderly owner) was asleep at the bar. it's a classic little dive with a world of potential and i hope it doesn't get ruined when he eventually kicks it.
there was a wild storm this evening. it got really dark and poured down rain that blew around in circles. it was the first time i thought, "hmm. literal sheets of rain." after it passed, it looked pretty creepy outside for awhile like, post-apocalyptic yellow, but ended up oddly beautiful. i, of course, took pictures. go clouds!
i picked up a little book called frank at show & tell gallery last week. at first i thought, porn! then, i thought, who are these naked broads? then, i saw brandy eve allen's polaroids of one night stands and i went to her website and... i dunno, dude. its mostly self portraits and she's totally naked in a bunch of them. get this - in some photos she stepped it up and has multiple naked selves! man, this bitch is ballsy. like whoa.
we ate at saving grace again this weekend. it was all iced americanos, perfectly poached eggs, one of my favourite actors at the next table, jewelery compliment from fashionable waiter and mazzy star in the background. the place felt like breakfast in bed and left me giddy most of the day.
we also visited three art shows this week. this one ruled my life and this one was nice to take pictures of.
today we clothes shopped and thought about swimming but unedited photos and whats left of the wine were calling my name. tomorrow though, it's gonna be me and you, ymca pool. me and you.
