ghosty ghosty crocodile

Laying low for a spell...

2007-11-30T16:26:00.000-08:00

Obviously haven't been posting much. No particular reason other than I just kind of ran out of steam. Getting a real job will do that to you. Just wanted to say thank you to all you kind folks who visited the Good Ship Crocodile. You rock!

Wheeeeeee!

2007-10-09T19:41:00.000-07:00

We loves fresh figs! The little market I go to now that the Suckway has closed has all kinds of delightful things...including not just Hon's potstickers but also Hon's Potsticker Vinegar. Nit actually a vinegar made *out* of potstickers, but delicious nonetheless.

And, of course, fresh figs.

So A Lady Got Killed Across the Street

2007-10-02T18:13:00.000-07:00

Vancouver's 17th homicide of the year. Nobody's too sure what happened. It got me to thinking about all the things I know have happened on my street. I've only been here five years and I know of a homicide, a beating, a man shooting a rifle off for no particular reason, a rape, an armed stand-off, a disappearance, people going off balconies, numerous car accidents and sundry fires. I got to thinking about what else has happened on my street and figured it's an ideal research project as it's both an old street and a relatively short one.

Update, Wednesday Evening.

Tonight I was passing by the building where the lady was killed. I was told it happened in one of the ground floor apartments on the front. The last three days the curtains have been pulled shut and unchanged. Tonight there was a light behind them. I went around the side, in the parking lot, to see if there was someone inside. There was a very small ground level patio with a railing around it. Behind was a glass sliding door, and white curtains also pulled shut. I could see the light had a fan blade flickering beneath it.

Then I saw the cat. Big, long-haired and grey. Yellow eyes. Of the kind stalwart in the belief that being very still guarantees invisibility. I thought it could be a stray, prowling on the patio. Then I noticed the bottom of the curtain swaying with the beating of the fan, cat hairs stuck to its hem, backlit by the flicking light. The sliding door was open just enough for a cat.

So I either got the wrong apartment, or somebody is holding some kind of very practical vigil which includes proper care of the pets of the deceased.

Does My Soul Look Tormented In This?

2007-08-26T15:53:00.000-07:00

Even the more socially acceptable 'ironic' constant self-deprecation gets tiresome quickly in conversation. I don't have the time, inclination, or patience to take on propping up your evidently flat-lining self esteem. And really, why the fuck should I? It's called 'self' esteem for a reason. Deal already.

/rant.

Ran into a couple of friends over the weekend who both do this and it kind of did me in.

quick, hit the back button

2007-08-26T12:04:00.000-07:00

The above is the title this guy

used on his profile on a dating site I'm on. Click on ol' rikki to see the full extent of his wallowing.

So a while back he messages me:

it to bad that you just dont seem to have any strong opinions on anything. har har har. not that you would care but by page is all self defence. im afraid i have an overwhelming fear of rejection. so its best to be rejected on my terms. as i said not you would care, by now you are long gone anywayz. sorry for intrudeing

My reply:

Uhhh...what the hell are you talking about? Seriously. That made no sense whatsoever.

His reply:

sorry 4 the trouble. won't bother you again.

Here's my point. You can be homely, socially retarded, and take your own really bad digital-camera-at-arm's-length photos because maybe you just can't help it. But which, exactly, social horror was it (undoubtedly the fault of everybody but you, natch) that prevented your blubbering passive-aggressive ass from USING A FUCKING SPELL CHECK?

Yeah, I know. Easy target. But c'mon. The guy's probably a screaming masochist who no doubt would whazz himself into a dead faint if he knew an actual real live girl was being mean to him.

It IS possible this is a giant hoax...I mean "rikki"? If so, well done.

Wow....

2007-08-16T18:56:00.000-07:00

Breakup sex is great!

Finally Have A Job I like!

2007-08-07T20:54:00.000-07:00

I work now for a cool tech company that has a very nifty subscription-based thingy useful for realtors. My job? I'm getting the folks that subscribed to an earlier version to migrate to the vastly improved and shinier version. At a reduced price of course, as compared to the general unwash-ed.

So-so at it so far, but I know I shall improve. I've done it before, and will get my chops back.

Not a speck of food anywhere that must be touched by me. Halle-fucking-lujah!!!

Huh.

2007-07-28T11:49:00.000-07:00

I didn't get the job. Not sure why, but suspect they didn't like my bad credit. Not much I can do about that, so I had a quick bummerfest and then applied for something else that looked cool. Not as good a wage, but I could walk to work and it also is an internet business which always gets bonus points.

I went to the beach and beheld the wee beasts in the tidal pools. I've decided I have to make myself get the hell out of the house should I start brooding too much. I'm trying to find the balance between repressing things that bother me and thinking too repetitively about what's not going well.

Staying positive can only be good, I think.

Blessing counting time...

1. I don't have the headaches.

2. I don't smoke now.

3. I have a terrific best friend.

4. I have a job that gets me a roof over my head and enough food.

5. My kitties are healthy and happy.

6. My breakup was, and remains, civil.

7. I remain off the medication.

8. I am a decent person.

9. I live in a beautiful city in a country without war or famine.

10. There are baby skunks all over the place right now and they rule.

Just Back From My Third Interview

2007-07-24T13:45:00.000-07:00

...with Motherin' Huge Communications Company, and I think it went very well. They asked if I'd like to go onto the floor and listen in on some calls, and the employee they put me with says they don't do that unless they're pretty sure you're in. The last hurdle is a background check, but aside from lousy-ass credit, nothing much will pop. No record, not even the cliche parking ticket, so I should do fine.

The office is stunning. It's the company headquarters, built as a showpiece tower and finished only three years ago. State-of-the-art and ergonomic everything, open-plan, a view that gives any real estate type an instant woody, and about a ten minute walk from my front door.

So. I'm stoked. If everything goes as it should, I will start my training July 29th.

It's been rough, this marathon of job-hopping, but it's worth it. I know where I want to be, and a jive-ass kitchen ain't it.

Jeez Louise...

2007-07-23T01:10:00.000-07:00

This stuff is hard.

I know...duh!

The Man came by to talk and pick up some of his stuff. No matter what has happened, we still have a connection that I cannot throw away. I guess that's how us humans are wired. While we've drawn our boundaries - he's still moving out - we've also agreed that he will see somebody to help sort out some of his issues. I cannot turn my back on him, I just won't. Not can't, but won't. It's a choice, and I'll stand by it.

I don't know what the future holds, but I've always felt better making a stand than taking the easy way out. It'd be more convenient for me and everyone else to convince myself that he doesn't matter to me, but that would be a lie, and something I'd regret for the rest of my days. He does matter, and always will, whatever the form our relationship eventually takes.

I feel amazingly strong knowing I can take appearing weak to others. It's a pretty hard thing to do. But what the hell. Like I said before, one ticket, one ride. Make it count.

An Explanation of the Purge

2007-07-22T17:02:00.000-07:00

In a fit of spontaneity and ill-judgment, I gave this blog address to a potential employer. Not entirely crazed; it was a writing-type/internet job, and I was upfront about my former call girl incarnation...but I realized that there was info about other people on ghosty that could be hurtful in some way - not to mention waaaaay to much info about my periodic bouts of crazy - and thought it best to err on the side of caution and remove certain elements from view temporarily.

I will be bringing it all back, but it's time-consuming, so it'll happen in dribs and drabs. I have learned my lesson and will be directing future folk interested in my writing to my Vancouver blog and to a new domain called...cue Drumroll of Irony...hangontoyourman.com.

Heh. I have a good enough grasp on current pop psychology man-keepin' theory and such vast personal experience in picking the wrong ones that I'm sure I can spin out any number of short articles and a downloadable e-book or seven on the topic. I want to use both sites as testers for SEO techniques, internet marketing options and shaking a little moola out of them thar internet hills.

I'll set up my stats and see what happens. It'll give me something to show to all those places out there looking for internet marketing monkeys.

In the meantime, on the employment front, I'm going for my third interview with a vast communications empire trying to snag a customer service representative gig. Pays something around $15 an hour to start which beats the living snot out of the piddly $9.50 I'm getting at the Kitchen of Well-intentioned Clusterfuckery I'm at now.

I think it may be even more frustrating to work for nice people who cannot get their shit together than straight-up assholes. There are a lot of quietly sad lifers there. I have zero intention of ever being one of them. I also went into Kitchen World as part of the long range plans I was making at the time with The Man. Being he's a chef, we thought we might be able to work together, maybe see a bit of the world that way, since he's often worked overseas.

Since that's kaput, it's absolutely pointless to be doing something I really don't much like. I'm so off food, being up to my elbows in it eight hours a day that I've lost about twelve pounds in the two months I've been there. Good thing the place doesn't make and serve oxygen or I'd be really hooped.

I do really well in interviews, so I'm stoked this will go well. And speaking of oxygen, I'm quitting smoking at the end of the month. Luckily for me...sort of...my smoking is inextricably tied to my relationship with The Man, so when he goes, it goes too. I had been quit for thirteen years before I took it up again with him, so it will be relatively easy to return to a non-smoking mindset. Not that it won't fucking blow for a few weeks, but new single status, new job, and getting back into my old healthy routines will make the transition a hell of a lot easier.

And guess what? Best news of all...during all this - and there's some capital K crazy shit that went down I have not yet divulged - I still remain headache free! That, my crocodile friends, more than anything, tells me I'm making the right changes in my life and outlook. YAY!

A Quiet End to a Spectacularily Ill-fated Romance...

2007-07-22T15:37:00.000-07:00

So, gentle reader, a report.

I have broken up with The Man. He will be moving out at the end of the month. I just returned from the roof deck where I did a rousing rendition of;

Free at last, free at last, Good God Almighty, I'm free at last!

The seagulls whirling by were largely unaffected, but then again, I can't think of a more jaded bird.

This is the crux of it;

You can't keep loving somebody who can't love anybody back.

Pretty simple, I know, but that situation has a time factor. You can't know that's what's happening until some time goes by, and six months was what it took for me to know The Man just cannot love anybody. While it sucks for me, really, I'm the lucky one. I know I can love somebody. I just did.

And I'll do it again. Somebody else is one day going to be lucky enough to have me care about them. What I have to work on is not avoiding my own life by becoming involved with people who are incapable of dealing with their own. Not so easy. I'm sure there is a delicious, delicious brew of psychological reasons that predispose me to being attracted to men with serious problems, but you know what? Get back on the horse is what I say.

I have two options. Restock the moat of Castle Crocodile with all kinds of fuck you, or get back out there while I still remember the good parts about being with someone.

It's even given me a great new idea for a t-shirt slogan;

I don't put out for guys who won't hold hands

It may sound trivial, but it really is the small things that give the game away. I've got a list of deal-breakers that I'm damn well going to use next time out.

* Won't hold hands? Get over yourself.

* Any sign of excessive boozing? Forget it.

* Keeps people important to him segregated like Post-War Berlin? What the hell are you hiding?

* Makes you the last stop on the stress-rolls-downhill train? Blow me.

* Won't give out back rubs no matter how many they ask from you? Quit being so goddamn selfish.

* A great apologizer? No thanks, Zorro; I'd rather you weren't such a cock so often in the first place.

There are so very many of us who spend our lives doing anything we can to avoid acknowledging that life needs to be worked at, that it's hard, that it's short, but that it's all we have. You never get any of that time back. One ticket, one ride.

There are always problems, and always will be, but Jesus H. Christ, be an active participant in your own life. Sort it the fuck out, and keep sorting it. Hiding from it doesn't do a damn thing but isolate you from possibility. Our options are diminished enough; by circumstance, by physical limitation, by the assholes around us, that not acting in your own best interests to find a way to be happy with yourself is essentially suicidal.

There is nothing honourable about self-destructive behaviour. No integrity. Self-destruction is fear left to run rampant.

It is, to be blunt, a pussy move.

Well...2007 is on an upswing starting now

2007-07-09T13:46:00.000-07:00

For the rest of the year, the focus is on me. Not anyone else; not anyone else's problems. I'll be a listening ear, and a friend, but really, you can't do much for folks who don't/won't/can't help themselves, so my energy is going towards getting me where I want to go, as graciously as possible.

I'm very determined to get into something that interests me, and pays better. No kitchens! Ever!

So...I've been studying marketing in general, online marketing in particular, and copywriting from materials I've downloaded. I've also downloaded Open Office (a free Microsoft Office clone) so I can brush up on Microsoft Office and will adding keyboarding software to improve my touch typing skills. I've tracked down my references and am on Craigslist and Monster.ca before and after my shifts studying the job market and applying to suitable listings.

I bought a sweet pair of running shoes today and am taking advantage of the inadvertent stress diet that has lost me about twelve pounds over the last few months. May as well take advantage of circumstance and keep it off and build up some muscle. I'll start with some daily walking and build up endurance until I can do some serious miles every week, and also get back into my daily light weight training routine.

A lot of changes needed to be made, and they've finally been sorted...now I can concentrate on what I need to do, and it feels fabulous :)

Hooray for me, hooray for my verrrrry patient readers, and hooray for summer!

Doing Some Housecleaning on the Good Ship Crocodile...

2007-06-27T23:26:00.000-07:00

Some stuff is going, most staying, and comments can be seen by me but nobody else. They will return shortly. It's alllll fabulous :)

Somebody's Looking For a Shill on Craigslist Vancouver...

2007-06-27T13:41:00.000-07:00

Date: 2007-06-25, 9:40AM PDT

I am looking for a food critic to write a review of the restaurant chain here. The review needs to be written in a positive light and I will pay you $25 for the review. It shouldn't take more than 2 hours to complete.

More work to become available so this is not the only review.

Location: Anywhere
Compensation: $25
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

--------------

I've emailed and indicated my interest, seeing if they'll name the restaurant chain...you know this stuff goes on, but this is pretty darn blatant, no?

Burning Desire...

2007-06-23T12:14:00.000-07:00

I'm wildly curious about who owns the mighty pot of gold known as the giant empty lot on the corner of Robson and Broughton. Given Coal Harbour is pretty much wrapped up, and Melville and Alberni a-swarm with construction, Lot X must be worth gatrillions by now.

I plan to dig about wherever I can to find out who owns it...most folks I talk to figure it's Hong Kong-held, but who knows. Perhaps it's some dotty old local lady in an apartment crammed with 60 years's worth of National Geographics and snarling cats.

I will sleuth it out.

Well, Well, Well

2007-06-22T16:32:00.001-07:00

Excuse, please, the wallowing tone, but dang it, if you can't whine occasionally in your blog, where the hell else can you get all snotty-snouted in semi-public?

Also, I don't usually post when I've had a few, but what the hell...it seems to be a time-honoured blogger tradition. Me and the Man are on the rocks. He wants to leave, and I want to be the kind of girl, who in the movies at least, appears to not care.

But I do care.

My man asked me if he was a project to me. I said no. I said it was more like I knew who he really was, and what good and brave things he could do, and that I wanted to be there when these things happened, and that I'd stick it out through thick and thin while he sorted it out. I think that's different from being a project, because it's about having faith in what he can do for himself, not what I can make him do in spite of himself.

I think there's a difference, though I'm not really sure. It's hard to know, being in the middle of it.

UPDATE:

Things sorted; all well. Hooray!

2007-06-13T16:22:00.001-07:00

Every once in a while, I'll get an IM like this from someone who didn't get the memo re: my retirement from Escortville.

ndoraboy@hotmail.com says:
hia

blingin' in the rain says:
And you are?

About five minutes go by...

blingin' in the rain says:
A little slow, apparently.

ndoraboy@hotmail.com says:
sorry was away for a mo there.

blingin' in the rain says:
So...you are?

ndoraboy@hotmail.com says:
johny.had expressed interest in your services

blingin' in the rain says:
I'm retired.

ndoraboy@hotmail.com says:
since when?why

blingin' in the rain says:
Almost two months ago. Bored of it.

ndoraboy@hotmail.com says:
so what keeps you on edge now

blingin' in the rain says:
My newfound devotion to our Lord Jesus Christ. Have you invited Him into your heart?

ndoraboy@hotmail.com says:
erm no.why

ndoraboys@hotmail.com says:
?

blingin' in the rain says:
Gotta go...choir practice.

2007-06-13T16:11:00.000-07:00

I invited a cat to eat quiche with me in a little park, but he decided to sulk under a bush instead.

Well then. More quiche for me.

This, of course, was to celebrate my escape from work. What a clusterfuck. The supervisors there couldn't organize a blowjob at a drunken Pride party. More on that another day.

Anyhoo, I ate my eggy pie in the lovely little park near my house and watched several horrifying bugs doing inscrutable things among the grass blades and life was pretty good.

Feeling Much More Optimistic...

2007-05-31T22:55:00.000-07:00

They seem to have taken the hint at work and are giving me afternoon to closing shifts which I dig, so the Good Ship Crocodile is steaming ahead. The rest of the crap is out of my hands so I've decided worrying about it is a waste of my time and sanity.

Besides, I've realized that my job is a veritable fountain of free pie, and if that doesn't cheer a body up, I don't know what would. They stick all the expired stuff in the main back cooler, and the last few days have been Pietopia.

So I'm alright.

Hello GLOSS...

2007-05-21T15:34:00.000-07:00

Ha! Made ya look...to my loyal readers in Ghosty Ghosty Crocodile Land; I have emailed a magazine startup demanding to be a sex/relationship advice columnist. What do I have to offer them, you may ask? Well, a good command of the English language for starters, and that delicate quality known as cultured smartassed-ness we all know and love.

Additionally, I possess the necessary Bad Girl cred that your usual UBC Creative Writing Program drop-out just doesn't have; I really DO know what boys want, having dished it out in my previous incarnations at $2.99 a minute to $300 an hour. And I can also tell the girls what to do to keep their current men out of the sticky hands of my erstwhile colleagues.

Does it get any better? Me and my brass ovaries think not.

GLOSS...email me...

Heh...Screw Kitchen Bitch...Jumped Ship!

2007-05-07T18:33:00.000-07:00

They threw me on the line with diddly for training...and that's stress I don't need. I'm down for prep and production, but I'm no line cook and never wanted to be, so I told them it was not going to work out. I don't need to dread going to work. I was straightup about it, as I like to be, and told them the moment it became apparent.

They weren't thrilled, but I did my best and see no point in dragging this kind of thing out. That was yesterday, and already today I did up a resume, contacted my references and had a first and second interview with a really great fresh food market with a fabulous open kitchen deli/bakery. Awesome benefits and educational support, and the joint's just four blocks from my house. Tomorrow I have a final interview, and they have their orientation on Wednesday...unless something remarkably strange happens between now and then, I'm pretty confident I'll be hired.

I'm applying for Junior Cook which essentially means prep, production, and counter service which is what I wanted. I'll need either proof of a Hep A vaccine, or will need to arrange one, and I'll need my Foodsafe 1 certification but both are cheap and easily gotten, and they are aware of both issues.

It's nice when you walk into a place and immediately get a good vibe. That, and it's clean as a whistle with good natural lighting and people working there of all ages and from all over the world. Tends to keep the sketchiness level down to healthy levels. That and the salmonella.

Hooray!

I Be A Kitchen Witch Now!

2007-04-29T23:13:00.000-07:00

Haven't been in a kitchen for a looooong time...but it's all coming back. Thankfully Tada - fantastic Japanese boy and Kitchen Emperor - taught me how not to cut my damn fingers off. My previous times in kitchens were long on carousing and short on teaching actual useful skills, so I desperately needed some remedial skoolin'.

Forgot how much fun the smack-talkin' and trench buddy thing is. Of course the pay is shitty...not sure how much I'm actually getting, but obviously it'll be less than the $300 an hour I was getting. The other side of that, of course, is that I'll know WHEN I'm getting it. Another consideration is that given my honey is a chef, I may one day be able to work with him in some capacity. I've always wanted to work alongside my man.

In an employment situation I do best as a support system to someone I respect; I like to be the dependable second banana. I don't like walking point unless I'm my own boss.

I also like to stay the hell out of workplace politics. I like to keep myself to myself... and working at a bar, I think not being much of a drinker will make that muuuuch easier. A lot of the folks I work with suck it back pretty heavily. Part of the culture, I suppose. Still, doesn't mean I have to do it. In any case, I can't afford it anyway. I'll be saving up so we can move to a bigger place. Plus, I owe my best friend $1500. It'll take ages to pay it off. At least I paid off the other $1500 with the escorting.

That was the main point of the escorting, paying off the whole $3000. Thing was, playing it safe and not burning out in that game means you don't work that often, and there's a lot of expenses. Oh well. At least I don't have to worry about killing some ornery john with a lamp these days.

Best Craigslist Job Offer EVAR...

2007-04-27T14:49:00.001-07:00

Medical School Needs Male Participants
Reply to: job-318606513@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-04-25, 10:56AM PDT

The Boucher Institute of Naturopathic Medicine requires 7 male participants for the course requisites of students studying to become Naturopathic doctors.

Each model will be paid $100 for one hour of time in which naturopathic doctoral candidates will perform a digital genital and rectal exam. Each participant may be examined up to four times.

Participants are needed for June 4. Any medical results will be conveyed to them.

Please respond by, May 15, 2007.

I'M OUTIE!

2007-04-20T20:18:00.000-07:00

I have retired from the escort biz, as of 8 pm Pacific time today, April 20th, 2007.

Got One Of Those Phone Calls Today...

2007-04-09T18:13:00.000-07:00

I thought it was a telemarketer or collection agent; basically any number I don't recognize, I paranoia up, so I was all ready to bail. But it was a friend, Sharon, and she was saying "I've got some bad news". Fuck me. Everything starts slowing down.

I ask what happened, and she says, "The cops were here". I say "Oh shit baby, what happened?" She says, "It's Michael".

Michael is my oldest friend, my best friend in the world. He works at Sharon's bar. She's crying.

I say, "Something happened to Michael?"

"Yeah", she says, "His dad died".

Holy fucking shit.

Hard to describe the grinding noise in my head as gears switch. It's ok, it's ok, it's ok, it's his dad, not him.

I go, "I'll be right there".

So tomorrow we go out to Langley to sort out the lawyer, the arrangements, his belongings.

His dad was ailing for a few years now, Hep C, cirrhosis of the liver, so this was not unexpected. Back in his bank-robbing and jail days he was known as The Colonel. I met him a number of times over the years; reminded me of a burly bantam rooster. Barrel-chested, white beard, charming, liked his beer and hanging out at the racetrack and for years he had a remarkably hideous little white dog.

Last time I saw him, we all went out to the track, and he and his cronies tried to explain betting to me. I ended up $15.00 ahead.

He and Michael's relationship was problematic (ya think?) but they had worked it out to some degree as Bobby grew older and sicker. Michael seems to be handling it pretty well; mostly he's concentrating on all the details he'll need to deal with tomorrow.

It's funny; when the RCMP showed up at the bar, asking for Michael, Lori the waitress automatically said, "Uh, he's not here", then went and told Micheal on the sly that the cops were looking for him. Classic. Micheal said his dad woulda thought Lori was his kinda gal. Heh.

Sorry, Not Dead, Just Busy

2007-04-03T01:25:00.000-07:00

Yup. The month of March was a whippersnapper. I did an interview for an audio documentary, appeared in a filmed documentary, and got a copy of the interview I did last summer for a study/master's thesis. Plus I started a new non-sexual blog, and adjusted to not-being-single in a very small apartment.

Phew. It's been a grind. And it rained virtually non-stop during all and sundry. Thankfully the rainy season is finally tailing off, and summer seems at least possible, maybe if you squint or something. Went to the Children's Farmyard and harassed barnyard animals on Saturday, as well as going on the miniature railway ride. Convinced my friend that the sturdy chain-link fence seen dimly through the trees that separate the park from the ocean was to keep marauding killer whales from heaving up out of the sea and killing us all, irritated as they get from the damn goofy train whistle.

He in turn later observed, loudly, that the seals in the aquarium exhibit swimming upside down were in fact "dead", much to the dismay of the tourists.

Will post the addy to my new site once it's presentable.

Oh. And $12 says BFD is an asshole.

Sex , Politics, and Thee Intarweb

2007-02-21T17:42:00.000-08:00

To explain my circumstances a little better, I was brought up in a very politically-oriented family. Somebody was, and is, always running for, or in office at some level, and now into the second generation. I am estranged from my family - have been for many years and have no intention of ever changing that - and so have both a distaste for official politics and an amazing amount of freedom to be what I want to be with little repercussion.

I felt for some time, and still do a little, that I owed the sex industry some public presence; so many of us do not have that kind of freedom to be out there without severe personal and financial penalties. To that end, last summer, I was asked to join a board of directors of a reasonably prominent local sex-workers activist group, and also participated in a documentary about inside sexworkers (as opposed to the ladies who work outside) which is yet to be filmed.

If the documentary ever gets off the ground, I will still participate, and will appear on camera, because that will represent my take on the issues at this particular time. Last I heard, it had been pre-sold to one of the big three local TV stations in my city, so I most definitely will be seen by people I will run into.

In a city like Vancouver where 65 - and we all know that's a low estimate - women died, and more continue to be raped, maimed and killed because of the very same soliciting laws that keep me safe in luxury hotels only blocks away, I feel I have to represent, that I have to step up as your neighbour, as that girl at the corner store, as that girl you see at the dog park, as that girl you took classes at UBC with, somebody who matters just like anybody else. We may work at different ends of the sexwork spectrum, but if I matter, so do they, and these laws are killing them.

I'm still thinking that with the Internet being such a massive and pervasive avenue for changing perception and questioning established 'truths' that we may see sexuality being seen as less threatening and more simply part of what we are, and that it variations will become more acceptable in our society. I will bet that fetishes involving age-appropriate and consenting adults that were once seen as extreme will be seen as only variations on a theme in 10 to 15 years.

It's going to be a wild ride, but one I hope will be largely very positive.

2007-02-10T03:29:00.000-08:00

Yeah. I'm still around. Just busy. And poor. The usual.

So...I Need An agent...

2007-01-28T16:46:00.000-08:00

Carolyn Swayze

This is who I want. I will get her. I have to put together my proposal very carefully, and I've emailed my old contacts from years ago, to get a little intel on how to approach her. I need to figure out who to pull in on this.

I've been a little scarce of late because of a few things; first, I've met somebody very, very important in my life; my headaches have disappeared; I've re-connected with my writing, having moved a lot of my material from my old house to here; I'm off my medication and suddenly have much more physical and psychic energy; I've been reaching out socially and started networking again. All these things are intertwined; all I can say is that I'm profoundly grateful.

So hang in there...it should heat up considerable-like shortly...

My Hand Has Its Closeup

2007-01-24T15:29:00.000-08:00

Cocksuckah!

2007-01-10T23:45:00.000-08:00

I'm in a Deadwood state of mind tonight...I'd love to find some of those horizontally-striped stockings The Gem ladies sport..I'll make do with some atrociously laddered black stockings and my black velvet corset. Sometimes I imagine going full on Deadwood, with the longish muddy skirts and petticoats. All I'd have to do is call everybody cocksuckahs and talk about pricks a lot.

What the hell. Everybody's got to work a niche...so why not? Maybe I will. I even look a bit like Trixie...got that UK lipless kick-your-ass thing going on too...she's Irish, where I'm Scottish.

That Girl...

2007-01-10T22:55:00.000-08:00

I never want to be that girl. The girl who can't control the free fall, the girl who is ashamed of who she is. I keep from being that girl by being angry. Thing is, somewhere in all these pills of the last 17 years, I grew up, and sometimes now I miss that girl. And angry now seems a little pointless. Now what?

I left a message with someone; the last message in that particular situation, and I went to the bar. Very cold and odd tonight; Vancouver in snow is a city in drag, and I watched Robot Chicken and drank a shot of zambuca and walked home. Walked up Robson with the parallel world here of all the Asian and Mexican students floating in their cloud of apartness, most of them having drunk far more than me.

I smoked a cigarette, and remembered Robson in 1988, how all I wanted was to be drunk and stupid and alive. I'm alive now, but in a different way, not able to afford the Stupid. Rent needs to get paid. I passed a man at Burrard and Robson, on his knees, kneeling on a folded newspaper and holding out a cup, and I know I am a lucky girl.

But I'm not sure what to do. Going out and socializing these past couple weeks has been fun, but I don't know if I should pursue it.

Coming up to my building, the beginning of "Caring is Creepy" by The Shins almost had me in tears. A certain sweeping wideness in music will do that to me.

Oh well. Back to camming, see if I can make more money tonight.

19 days

2007-01-10T17:08:00.000-08:00

Since I took my last Prozac. Wasn't intentional. Ran out of money. Was to hit my 3-days-after precisely on Christmas Day, something I think I mentioned here somewhere.

So I hit P-Day and nothing happened. I was astounded, and still had no money, so I kept going. It's been 19 days, and I feel pretty alright. I ran out of Wellbutrin around the same time. I have a hell of a lot more energy. I also went pretty much entirely nocturnal, and started socializing again on Christmas Day's Orphan Turkeyfest at a friend's bar. Cool, and free.

Hooked up with someone interesting for a few days, though that's done, far as I can tell. I don't chase people; they either want to make an effort or it's their loss is how I see it. His phone hasn't been accepting messages for a week; I called twice in a week, a few days apart, then the third from the different number, so I know it's nothing to do with me. Hopefully he's ok. He's a decent guy.

Now I just work and work, trying to dig out from under my bills. Escorting is really bad these days...worst time of the year for it, and not having my ads up hasn't helped. Oh well. I needed to develop my other moneymaking options anyways. All the same, it's frustrating to never, ever have any cushion to buy all the little things I need. Nowdays, I only buy food for the cats, toothpaste, toilet paper, and cases of instant noodles.

While I feel better mentally - I desperately needed more energy - physically it's been pretty rough. My anti-depressants helped me with the fibromyalgia pain by heightening my pain threshold and so I wake up behind the eight ball with a lot of back, hip , and leg pain, as well as stiffness in my hands, feet and wrists.

But...here's the thing...no headaches. I will take the body pain any day over the headaches that just stop your life. Since I went off the birth control pills and my periods stopped back in September, they've decreased remarkably. By at least 70%. That's stunning. Last time they gave me a reprieve of any kind was in 1998.

So I do just under an hour of stretching and cardio daily so I can start moving better. All in all, I'm pleased.

Strange Days...

2006-12-30T16:17:00.000-08:00

Was walking up my back lane on the way to London Drugs, and noticed a large black hard shell suitcase sitting next to a dumpster. There was some strange script on a big white sticker near the handle, and similar script on the outside of the suitcase in what looked like White-out. I looked closer and realized it was Arabic, and got weirded out that I thought for a split second that it could be a bomb. I don't like it that somewhere along the line Arabic + suitcase = danger.

I picked it up to see if it was heavy, and then got weirded out that if it *had* been a bomb, I would probably have just blown myself up.

Such a harmless object in my city; many other places, all hell would have descended, and rightly so.

Blurk.

2006-12-28T00:12:00.000-08:00

I really need to work on my perceptions of reality. I get into the stupidest situations where I'm so frustrated I have to put down the screwdriver I'm using trying to do some ludicrously impossible task because I can picture myself jamming it into my own fucking guts just to make the channel change.

I picked up this computer from M's house. It's a 1999 orphaned NEC Z1.

They're a weirdo all-in-one, no separate box machine (the CPU is built into the back of the monitor screen) that was a bit of an experiment that went out the window when there was some kind of buy-out. So basically there's maybe 11 in existence, no manual, and because they were built as an all-in-one unit, manuals from other machines don't help much. Not that I even have any of those.

Anyhow, I pick it up Tuesday afternoon, crank it up, and there's a user password request. Turns out M had turned it over to a long gone roommate. So I'm locked out of the bastard. Fine. M ran it into the ground by NEVER running any anti-spyware, never defragging, blah blah, so I had anticipated having to wipe the hard drive clean and shit anyways, so a clean install wouldn't be much more work.

I DBAN its ass, then spend hours trying to get it to boot of an XP recovery disk I had. No dice. This goes on for seemingly days. Bad, annoying grouchy days. Finally, I say fuck it, knowing the pricks that be were probably going to want a registration number at some point that I couldn't find either. I look for open source OSs, I find Ubuntu. Can't burn the newest version .iso files. Bash at that for a while. Find a cd install of Hoary Hedgehog I'd burnt last summer. That actually works! Hooray!

Then I start to notice the computer has got that old computer overheating smell. Then it starts shutting itself off. Because I'm using a live Ubuntu install, the thing has to run off a cd rom continuously which is heating it up like a fucking Dairy Queen french fry station.

I think about this for a while an figure out the fan is probably beyond filthy. By now it's Wednesday night. I decide I my as well grab a scalpel and rib spreader and see if I can clean its guts a little. Found a great tutorial from one of The Eleven That Own The Z1 on how to get it into bits. I opened up the power source box which had that cute 'if you open this box you're a fucking moron stickers' on it.

The fan is beyond dirty. It looked like it was constructed of roofing tar and cat hair. I cleaned it as best I could. Then I put the box back together.

Problem. The fan needs to be screwed tightly up against the inside of the box, which can't be done because the screws from the outside simply shove it away into the loose space in the box. I put it back together anyway, put together the whole box, turn it on. Yak tak tak tak tak tak tak tak. Shit. Do it again. YAK TAK TAK TAK TAK GRIND TAK YAK TAK YAK!

Fucking shit. By now I'm accumulating a little pile of tiny unidentifiable chunks of broken-off plastic and mystery screws. I finally start to cry. Yep. I kick over a chair. The cats pack their things and leave. I'm omitting many indescribably frustrating details. I finally poke a wire into the back of the power source box, trying to lasso a blade of the miserable plastic plastic fan so I can pass the wire back out the air intake cut outs and yard the bloody fan up tightly against the case so I can get the screws to attach the thing securely to the inside of the box rather than the screws half-assedly catching and shoving the fan back *into* the box so it will rattle like a motherfucker.

Please God, may you understand, kind reader, what I'm trying to explain there. I manage to do so by holding the wire ends in my goddamn teeth to pull the fan up snug to the screw holes inside. Then the inner metal case of the entire computer back gets all fucky. That's when the bashing starts, followed by the outer plastic case getting the duct tape action.

I have to say, I purposely started this blog entry so I would be across the room from the bastard when I fired it up again and cringed, waiting for the grinding noises, smoke puffs and creepy twin little girls to show up. This was all supposed to segue into the Moral Of The Story which was how I really shouldn't beat the fuck out of myself for failing at shit that's actually A. Really hard - no manual, no experience whatsoever opening a CPU, retarded tools. B. Not my fault - M had that thing looked at by a pro friend of his at least 4 times I can think of, yet they never bothered to clean or maintain stuff like the fan, or even the main air intake going into the fan.

So I tried to do something really fucking difficult; it makes no sense to trash myself that I couldn't magically do it.

But...here's where it gets weird...the beast has booted up, quiet as a mouse, safely too far away for me to fling it out the fucking window from where I sit now at my usual computer. No fan rattling. Not overheated.

This is the point where I jinx it all to hell and back if I say more, so I won't. I will say that the cats have moved back in and are unpacking their little cat suitcases and putting their little cat toiletries back in the medicine cabinet.

December Blows. I Truly Loathe It.

2006-12-19T16:19:00.000-08:00

Back in January.

Best Simpson's line of the day

2006-12-12T00:42:00.000-08:00

Bart to the cat after he sells his soul to Milhouse and the cat hisses at him.

"You're pretty uppity for somebody who eats bugs all day".

Girl Band Names

2006-12-06T23:28:00.000-08:00

Hooter MacTits and the Rehab Pinups

I Love Roofies

The We All Fucked Your Man Allstar Review

The We'll See Your Cheap Ass On On Maury, Motherfucker Jazz Trio

The Blowjob Superstars

Väginä

Bleahhhh!

2006-12-03T01:27:00.000-08:00

The water is drinkable, but they've put in more chlorine than at The Home For The Aged And Incontinent pool, so I think I'd rather take my chances with bear spooge.

Heh..

2006-11-25T23:38:00.000-08:00

And they said that year of art school was a waste...

Taste The Frog...

2006-11-23T13:20:00.000-08:00

Ok. When I lived in the bush courtesy of my lunatic parents, we had a well and a hand pump for water. Sometimes you'd throw a bucket down there for some reason, and once in a while you'd find your bucket also occupied by a peevish frog or disgruntled salamander. What to do?

Put 'em back nicely. Meaning a bucket trip back down. No tossing allowed.

Why? Because, the story goes, they ate up sundry bugs that also lived in the well. Why bugs were bad and amphibians were good, strictly as producers of delicious water additives, I know not. Maybe I'll look it up.

In any case, the boil water advisory is in its eighth day with no definite end point in sight, and the novelty has well worn off, leaving me to wonder if a constitution strengthened by frog water and salamander sauce would really be so adversely affected by bear broth.

Mostly, I'm not looking forward to hauling more water home, given I'm almost out. And yesterday I was giving my empty water bottles to a diver, and he agreed that the empty bottle situation was a bonanza, and at a good time of the year.

Saturday Night's Alright For Fruit Flies

2006-11-22T16:40:00.000-08:00

When male fruit flies scrap, it lasts an average of 30 minutes...real toughass flies can go on smackin' for up to 5 hours.

Fun Fruit Fly Fact.

I was once married to a microbiologist, and he let it be known to me that just as it astounds regular mortals that fruit flies appear out of nowhere in our houses, it astounds scientists who study them as well.

Just as it happens at home, a stray banana in the lab will attract fruit flies that aren't theirs; they can tell which are theirs under the microscope because their experiments require them to keep very close attention to the lines of flies they are currently working on.

While there are theories, serious fruit fly aficionados admit that nobody really knows for sure.

Best tv guide-type movie description today

2006-11-21T19:36:00.000-08:00

A prince needs a razor-tipped boomerang to free his beloved from the fortress of the Beast.

Sounds freakishly confusing.

Best Deadwood Line Tonight...

2006-11-21T00:10:00.000-08:00

Jane, upon getting into a hot bath.

Ahhh! I burnt my fukkin' snatch!

Closely followed by Trixie telling one of the whores;

Go wash your mouth out; you got seven kinds of cock breath.

I Like Unintended Consequences.

2006-11-20T00:23:00.000-08:00

As we have had a 'boil water' advisory since Friday, there have been two unintended consequences;

1. My best friend who thought I was a foaming geek for actually going out and buying stuff for Le Pandemic and/or El Big One about nine months back woke up Friday, drank the water and puked. I, meanwhile, had vast supplies of bottled water stashed under my bed, and did not have to drink fish juice and bear chowder. Nyah.

2. The dumpster divers will totally luck out; these small water bottles are all returnable, and hundreds of thousands were bought and most likely drunk this weekend. Bonanza on the traplines!

I must also note that the bottled water I have is Nestle Pure Life brand; I must say it tastes like donuts.

You'll have to put up with some silliness for a bit...

2006-11-19T21:57:00.000-08:00

One of my boards is having a little show off your PS mad skillzzzzz thingy.

Drama Llama!

2006-11-19T00:56:00.000-08:00

Siafu...Freak Me The Fuck Out!

2006-11-17T17:20:00.000-08:00

Mayhem? Bring it on. Blood and guts? I am unperturbed...but these fuckers give me the willie wonkas something bad. They are big, too. I twitched and shivered the whole hour, watching "Killer Ants!" The 'ant cam' was mighty cool though. After about ten minutes, however, I was praying for 'duckling cam'. Less @&*%R$$! creepy.

I am sorry Tanzania, but I am much too afraid of your terrible devil ants to visit.

On A Roll...

2006-11-17T01:29:00.000-08:00

I Was Looking For Goofy Animations, Then Decided To Make One Myself

2006-11-16T21:13:00.000-08:00

Jesus Just Cracks Me The Fuck Up

2006-11-14T01:50:00.001-08:00

I've Got To Learn How To Pace Myself.

2006-11-13T12:14:00.000-08:00

I worked a lot on the computer this weekend, so...

A herd of miniature ponies apparently amused themselves kicking me in the lower back last night.

At least one managed to nail me in the head which accounts for the extra stupid this morning, and my hands feel like wood.

*grump*

UPDATE.

Big fucking surprise. I've got a bladder/making a break for the kidneys infection. Here's the deal; every time I go in to the Doc and say, "I think I have a bladder infection", I am right. Every single time. Then I get antibiotics. Then some time goes on, I feel 4/10 shitty for a couple weeks, then I get the kidneys killing me (hence the lower back pain) and move to a 7/10 feeling craptastic equation, go to the Doc, and do it all over again.

I told him today that I don't think it ever goes away completely; that I've had the same low grade infection for months and months, fuck, maybe YEARS now, and antibiotics only deal with the bacteria increase that gives me the kidney symptoms. I rarely even get bladder infection symptoms anymore; maybe 25% of the time? So 75% of the time it just hangs out, doing damage until I start getting kidney infection symptoms.

Fucking dialysis, here I come. Grrrrrrr. Sorry for the TMI post, but I'm peeved.

Had to...

2006-11-11T17:56:00.000-08:00

*smells hellfire*

You Know You Want This...

2006-11-10T23:23:00.000-08:00

Latin to Cyrillic converter

Phone Sex Follies!

2006-11-10T23:05:00.000-08:00

Tee hee...I just did, of all things, a romantic golden shower call. Because this guy likes long calls, the more stuff he's into, the more material I'll have to work with. Plus he's a good guy. Another reg just goes batshit over getting femmed, filthed, and fucked, but it's pretty strict for the basic scenario; dress him up, take him to a group of macho men and watch the festivities doing play-by-play. Problem is, I'm running out of manly dude groups...I look at my notes, and I've done;

Nailed by nasty horny johns in an alley; slammed by sleazeballs at the horse track in an abandoned urinal; molested by mechanics at a service station after hours, in the can (Man, this is starting to sound like a really fucked-up game of "Clue") boned by bikers in their clubhouse on the pool table; probed by prison guards in an empty cell at the police station; humped by horndog porn producer at porn shoot with his girlfriend; cornholed by cops in a cop car; ravished by Russian sailors on a freighter....and last...but not least...hockey bukkake!

Hey. I am proud to be a Canadian...

Man...I have to make a list of others so I don't blank...maybe alphabetical, like 'angry mob', 'bolsheviks', 'cowboys', 'drum and bugle corp', 'elephant trainers', 'frat boys'...

Krasznov, you fucking fuck, you took the last piece of pizza! Die!

or, if you prefer;

Красзнов, йоу фуцкинг фуцк, йоу тоок тхе ласт пиеце оф пизза! Дие!

This Is One Of The Weirdest Things I've Ever Seen...

2006-11-10T00:05:00.000-08:00

and that covers a lot of ground.

So many, many questions.

I Might Be Busy Later On...

2006-11-08T15:16:00.000-08:00

At 6:49 pm, to be precise...that's when I'll BE WINNING 36 MILLION DOLLARS.

Just thought you should know. I bought my once or twice yearly 649 when-the-amount-is-extra-ridiculous lottery ticket.

Ahhhhh...how I will lounge in my fabulous penthouse crammed with windows, domesticated animals and books! And subscriptions to loads of magazines! My needs are small, except for the real estate. All my born days, I've wanted to live in a tower from which I can pitch the undeserving, and yet the undeserving may NOT legally pitch me. Castles/moats/hungry hungry crocodiles being in short supply, a penthouse with at least 44 other stories to lord over will do just fine. With laundry room included, of course.

Plus a private elevator...how cool is that?

I'm extra excitable today as the History Channel is doing Boom porn today. I LOVES it when they blows shit up good! God bless you, Frontiers of Construction.

EWAPC Day

2006-11-08T00:38:00.000-08:00

"Everybody Wants A Pork Chop Day"

Definition;

The kind of day when everybody is buggin' you for stuff. Not only are both real fat bastard cats going off, even Scrappy growled at me something fierce.

Et tu, Scrappy?

Naturally, I gave him a pork chop.

This fucker can get his own.

Dear Salmon Part 2

2006-11-07T13:50:00.000-08:00

People were very nicely picking up the fishes and putting them in the river. The salmon had got stranded in pools cut off from the river as the waters subsided. It's spawning season, and the fishes were on a mission from God and very anxious to continue up the river.

Also, I've found a way to volunteer for a worthy cause without other people driving me batshit (short drive, I know). I go to the Gordon Neighbourhood House Thrift Store and sort through and tidy up the overflowing book shelves for the nice Russian ladies. It's such a time-consuming job, and they have so much else to do. Besides, I finds me some good books as well.

Googled 'reading' on Images, and found this dude;

Apparently he's busted somebody doing something outrageous.

Hmmm...This Can't Be Good...

2006-11-06T18:39:00.000-08:00

Salmon are swimming across the roads in nearby rural areas. 100-year records of rainfall have seen nothing like this, ever.

Dear Salmon,

Please obey posted signs and regulations, and observe speed limits.

Thank you,

Non-salmon, xxxooo

Also...

We have a ghost truck. A shortman-mobile went off the Pitt River Bridge at high speeds; a so-called Dodge 'Rumble Bee', with a hemi, eh? Apparently it drove itself, for no-one was found in the water.

And the Manjit Panghali case is heating up; search warrant served on the Panghali family residence, and cops tight-lipped about why, and what they were looking for. At the funeral, the two families were conspicuously apart, even going to separate temples after the public service.

Argh...hope it's not another crocodile-teared husband.

The Perils of Flavour Creep...

2006-11-05T17:49:00.000-08:00

Lately entire foodstuffs have become flavours;

Caesar Salad (pita wrap)
Buffalo Wings (sandwiches with nary a wing in sight)
Ranch (pretty much anything savory, tho why anyone wants to eat horseshit flavour, I don't know))
Tiramisu (7-11 coffee)

There are more that I can't think of as yet.

Apparently the Japanese have been doing this awhile. Actually, the Japanese have been doing everything for awhile.

Something I said on a forum and want to remember

2006-11-05T17:45:00.000-08:00

I'm not quite foolish enough to be "virtuous" for the comfort of other people...and dead all by myself.

It was in reference to the very un-black and white topic of racism, and I may want to use it again sometime.

"I Got The Nerve To Go On"

2006-11-05T16:03:00.000-08:00

OK, so this was weird...was walking home from Davie street. It was rainy but I thought my city looked handsome anyway. I started humming in time to my walking pace and made up a real simple little hurtin' country song. I'm not saying it's a good hurtin' country song, just identifying the animal. For a fifteen minute effort, I like it. I'd imagine the second verse-thingy to be the chorus. It's old school and slow.

I keep on seein' what you cannot hide
I'll keep on seeing it until the day I die.
I know that you love me because you try so hard
And that's...the worst sight of them all.

There's nothing so bad that the moon cannot cure
There's nothing so sad that the sun goes away
I may be different and I may be strange
But I got the nerve to go on.

I cannot love you the way that I should
This ain't the kind of bad...that ever turns out good
This cloud's got a lining all tattered and black...
I must let you go...and I can't let you back.

I want you to go...and find what you need...
I'll be ok...and I'll be it alone.

Now I'ma go watch the documentary "American Pimp". Should be edifying.

What I'd Love To Have Sink Into The Brains Of Idiot Board Rats!

2006-11-01T17:59:00.000-08:00

You'll get guys all a-flutter if they think an escort might be fudging her age by a few years, regardless of her looking or *not* looking older than represented. They whine about flattering photos - one reason I take my amateur own - and fixate on all kinds of minor appearance issues.

One thing I always ask new clients is if I looked like they thought I would, and have yet to have anyone say anything other than I look better in person.

Mannnn...I need to get new glasses

2006-10-31T17:41:00.000-08:00

It's hard to read magazines in bed because I need a new prescription, and these are so covered in teeny scratches that when I'm in the hallway outside my apartment it seems there is smoke near the ceiling from, I presume, the glare of the lights bouncing off the gazillion scratches. Looking at my monitor right now, the glare makes it appear as though my glasses are fogged a little.

Meh. I'm wondering if I can get contacts; never tried them before.

How Totally Cool Is This?!?

2006-10-30T17:02:00.000-08:00

DC 10 Supertanker.

I want at least 7 for Christmas.

Exploding Head Syndrome. Really.

2006-10-29T23:27:00.000-08:00

This is whacktastic.
Geez goddamn Louise.

I stumbled onto this looking for information on something else; seeing sudden loud noises as flashes of intensely bright light, white, and jagged around the edges behind closed eyes when I have headaches. I thought it would be somewhere, listed as a migraine aura phenomenon, but while I find all kinds of mentions of both bright light and loud sounds as troublesome during migraine, I haven't found mention of them in this context; where noise is translated simultaneously into a visual equivalent, but occurring only inside my mind rather than being something I see with my eyes.

It used to drive me batshit when I still lived with Michael and Quinn; Quinn barking would make it like somebody torched a fireworks warehouse in my head.

Let us call it then the Misscrocodile Intermittent Pseudo-Synesthesia Effect, shall we? Because though closer than anything else, synesthesia still isn't really what I'm talking about.

National Symbol Saved By Crappy Hotel

2006-10-29T14:39:00.000-08:00

Panamanian hotel saves the Golden Frog.

I like this story. People just dropped their shit and jumped in to deal hands-on with a froggy crisis.

Hooray For Pups!

2006-10-29T12:01:00.000-08:00

A pitbull kissed my chin, lur lur lur hooray!

Very handsome dog, about 30 lbs., maybe 8 or 9 months old, white with rounded coffee-coloured spots, waiting for his dad to get coffee at Starbucks. Had his ears cropped, which is unfortunate, but at least they did a decent job of it. He looked very dapper.

He looked a lot like this dude, but older, and with cropped ears. But you get the idea of joy-provoking cuteness.

And For Hallowe'en...

2006-10-28T21:36:00.000-07:00

adopt your own virtual pet!

Hit the 'more' button for extra batastic hijinks!

Please For To Give...

2006-10-28T20:26:00.000-07:00

ol' scrappy a plo chop? Click on the 'more' button...scroll down sidebar.

Also, ol' scrappy digs a nice scratch - put your cursor on him and click it - and will purr for you if your scratching skilzzzzz are sufficient.

Saw The Skinned People Today

2006-10-27T00:17:00.000-07:00

Not as blown away as I thought I might be, mostly because I've seen a lot of photos of plastinated bodies before, and read a lot about the show.

Body Worlds 3

Mostly I spent my time trying to not punch out the other 870000 people at the exhibit. I haven't been in a crowd situation like that in quite a while, and had forgotten how much I truly loathe it. I either stay away from those situations in future or take ativan before going. It was really no fun trying to stop licking my lips and clenching my fists every 5 seconds.

I think it's interesting that licking lips more often than usual is a classic sign of stress in cats and dogs as well. It's a displacement behaviour used to calm oneself, regardless of fur or lack thereof.

I was introduced to the head roadie for the Rolling Stones. I've not really pursued the tech/roadie market much, and am thinking I'll get cards made up for my friend who bartends at the bar they all hang out at. They rake in the per diem and are bored spitless for weeks or months at a time because a lot of big bands start tours here (U2 was here last year for I think about 4 months) spending weeks running through the show to get it tour ready.

I hooked up with a light rigger from Tom Waits' last tour and he was a really cool guy. So what the hell. I'll just go with straightup overnights because these guys get out around 1 am. Now I gotta design the cards. Maybe I should use me seal I made a ways back.

Apparantly...

2006-10-25T12:20:00.000-07:00

I've been spelling that word wrong for God knows how long.

Apparently I'll have to go search for it and correct the bugger.

Hoooooeeeee!

2006-10-24T20:15:00.000-07:00

My client just called, drunk as a hootowl. Friendly drunk, which means he'll love me swooningly the second I walk in, we'll chat about why I'm a callgirl for at least an hour, then he'll discover he's got drunk dick and be rather unable to fulfil his husbandly duties. Then we'll chat some more and I'll give him a back rub, at which point he'll pass out. This will most likely leave me an hour to kill. Let's hope there's at least a newspaper in the room...maybe I should bring a book?

Anyways, he'll wake up as I'm leaving, and I'll give him some time off the clock next time I see him, and all will be well.

Things I Love Extravagantly...

2006-10-23T18:23:00.000-07:00

*Ducklings!

*Silent meows from lazy sleepy kitties.

*Deadwood.

*Molassas and Ginger Cookies from Starbucks.

*My new book called "The 48 Laws of Power" which should turn me into Ghengis Khan most shortly. I was quite unaware of the hip hop link until I just wiki'd it. Interesting.

*The internet. Duh.

*My new cell phone which matches my toenail polish. Go Moto Pebl Pink!

*My MoneyMart NextWave Titanium Plus MasterCard, which frees me from any need whatsoever for a bank account. Take that, ya bastids!

*Fire drills. Sort of. The alarm in our building went off and I captured the kitties and shoved them both into a large dog carrier. Which they loved. Yeah. Then raced downstairs to see how bad it was. Which it wasn't, because there was no fire, thanky Lordy. Both my cats know with every fibre of their being that That Other Cat has cooties. They were radically unhappy with having to touch each other in the carrier.

But...having practiced, I rearranged things a bit, and will be able to do it much quicker next time. Basically, I won't leave if they can't; when I went downstairs I did NOT go outside so if there were firemen out there I could run back up and grab the hairy bastards without having to punch out some hot guy in yellow.

So I loved that fire drill because I know I can stuff Keeks and Ting into the CatEvac 3000 and run like hell.

*Not having a headache at all for two straight days! Hurrah!

Dude...I can't feel my legs.

I Miss Mexico...

2006-10-22T00:41:00.000-07:00

A client and I discussed Mexico-ness tonight and I really missed the joint. I got to speak Spanish a little which was nice and heard some great music off his laptop. I want to go to Baja. I want to go to Baja. I want to go to Baja. I want to eat screaming hot dayglo orange boiled goat out of a bag, godammit!

When I grow up, I want to be birria, motherfucker.

Scariest. Thing. Ever.

2006-10-20T19:16:00.000-07:00

I was just watching this show called "A Haunting". It's about various real people who've had ghost troubles. Usually they're civil war soldiers, old lady or little kid-type ghosts.

But not this time.

It was the ghost of a clown. A leering technicolour John Wayne Gacy. GHOST CLOWN!

Mother of God. Scarier than pretty much anything I can think of.

Contemplation of Stick Insect

2006-10-20T18:58:00.000-07:00

I heard this exchange between Dad and his little girl.

Kid: Dad, do you like a stick insect? They don't bite.

Dad, thoughtfully: Well...I don't think I'd like a stick insect. I'd think I'd rather just have a stick.

For some reason, that made my whole day.

I am a stick insect and you aren't. Incidently, I am on Mars and am 60 feet tall. I eat your rovers for breakfast.

MAXXXMUSCLE! Also, I UPDATED the hippie email exchange; scroll down to "Mrs. Hitler..."

2006-10-20T18:22:00.000-07:00

From: MaxxxMUSCLE@aol.com Mailed-By: aol.com
To: moi.com
Date: Oct 20, 2006 5:49 PM
Subject: Maxxx Montreal

Would love to work with you! IM in Montreal for now. Contact me anytime...

From: Me Mailed-By: gmail.com
To: "MaxxxMUSCLE@aol.com"
Date: Oct 20, 2006 5:43 PM
Subject: Re: Maxxx Montreal

Work with me doing what? Locating my waist? Pointing my ass at a camera? Making sure my ass is still there? Looking like Fabio?

Seriously. I don't know what it is you're trying to tell me. I don't *work* with guys. They pay me :)

Face It People...

2006-10-19T17:19:00.000-07:00

you want to hear the dirty...and I shall oblige.

Here's what an overnight generally is;

Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk.

Blowjob.

Carpet munch.

Vigorous fuck if his equipment is working. More blowjob action/handjob if it ain't.

Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk.

He sleeps. Usually snores like a tubercular herd of water buffalo. I grimly attempt some facsimile of sleeping. If this is my first session with him, I generally don't take my sleeping pills in case there's an "INCOMING! NAM!" nightmare in the works on his part. I can look very VC in the dark.

Otherwise I take my pills but don't really sleep. I mean, I have trouble sleeping at home in The World's Most Comfortable Bed, so regardless of star factor, I can't sleep in hotel beds.

Morning wood...morning blowjob.

I take the money and run. Usually to Denny's because I'm starvin' for White Trash vittles. Today I ordered this monstrosity called "Chicken-fried Steak with Gravy and Country-style Biscuits and Pancakes"

And pancakes. Holy fucking crap. I was crammed like a bleary pinata before I even got near the flapjacks. So I had them pack up them up with butter, syrup, and some plastic utensils and gave them to this homeless dude near Shopper's Drug Mart. He was stoked...it was all rainy and had poured all night so I'm sure his night was not stellar. See, I'm not always a bitch to the homeless. But this guy I had never had get pushy with me and I respect that.

Speaking of, I was being walked up Davie by a client a few nights back who gallantly wanted to walk me a little ways toward home, and of course we ended up talking about the aggressive panhandler thing, and naturally had some asshole step right into my face, walking backward in front of me and demanding money. I told him to fuck off, he got all huffy and was talking shit and following us so I stopped and said "Look I fucking live here jackass and we do not need to be having this conversation so stay the fuck out of my face" which finally made him STFU.

It was funny, because the client was standing right there, and I just started walking with him again, not missing a beat. This same client a few days later sent me a link to THE FINEST EXAMPLE of Trailer Trash Parasitic Husband Syndrome I've ever seen, and I shall post it here if I can.

Be patient as it loads...big images...get fitted for a suit or something. Worth it, I swear.

TTPHS

Smoothes Mustaches, Laughs Menacingly...

2006-10-19T14:54:00.000-07:00

I made $1000 last night.

Incidently, this message is sponsored by "Deadwood", best show on tv ever!

Just started watching the rebroadcast of season one on the History Channel.

I Have To Do Something Annoying...

2006-10-16T14:49:00.000-07:00

I have got to get this physical stuff under control. I hate it because to pay attention to it gives it more power. I know that doesn't make much sense, but I mean that I'm validating ill health and limitation and it pisses me off. So I'm going to try and go back to all the meditation yadda yadda diet improvement yadda relaxation stuff.

Feh.

Grey is the new peeved.

I Was Agog!

2006-10-15T20:58:00.000-07:00

Stunningly horrifying men's fashions from yesteryear

I just about pissed myself, and I got only 8 photos in before rushing back here to share the pain...

War Shoes

2006-10-14T23:55:00.000-07:00

"What are these? War shoes? It's war everything now; war this, war that."

What a woman said looking at some camo print heels on Robson.

grump

2006-10-14T16:40:00.000-07:00

I am in a psychological jam. The problem is this; I can't do the things I want to do in an organized and logical schedule. And it's not for lack of trying; I make loads of them and AM capable of sticking to them...except when I can't. That being when I get a headache or, and this is a new thrill; the muscles running up the sides and back of my neck go into spasm for hours. It hurts like a motherfucker.

Here's the psychological bit. How do I reconcile positive selftalk "You can do it!" with the fact that, optimism and intention be damned, I really can't at least 30% of the time. Optimism becomes punishing because it makes me a liar. Do I construct a new approach, a new self that doesn't say "You can do it!", but rather "We'll see?" knowing that is not going to be seen by myself or anybody else as ambitious or hard-working? I suspect that's what I'll have to do. Meh. The 'one day at a time' thing is psychically ruinous to planners and schemers such as myself.

The most divisive aspect of my life is that as a person who despises weakness, I am physically a weak person, and, I hate to say it, it makes me feel not good enough. Intellectually, I know that's a crock; there is no valid measurement of such things. I imagine it's Karma, forcing me to understand what I dislike in other people.

Karma, you suck.

Let Me Align Your Chakras With My Front Bumper

2006-10-12T18:48:00.000-07:00

This hippie dipshit is driving me insane. EVERYTHING has to be made more difficult that it has to be with this idiot. I'm continuing to negotiate what should be a simple two sentence email; When? Where?

But no. This guy is special, and special guys think demanding to be babysat through a simple transaction makes them rakish and "complicated".

No. It makes you an annoying retard, actually. I'm one email from telling him to stuff his $600 where his chakras don't shine.

Whaddya know? That one email just happened as I posted this. Buh Bye Patchouli Putz.

Mrs. Hitler? Can Adolf Come To My Bat Mitzvah?

2006-10-08T21:50:00.000-07:00

One thing that always really bothered me about hippies is how they were always going on about how sensitive they were to other people's vibes; you know, they really connect with other people...

When in actuality they were so fucking self-absorbed that they were really horrible at paying attention to anybody else, and are, in my experience the absolute worst at
picking up on people.

Case in point; an email to my business site about booking a session;

On 10/8/06, @yahoo.com> wrote:

How does someone get singled out, vetted, or picked from the litter... how to find my way in the gauntlet of your in basket ? How can I stand out of the thousands of door knockers, bell ringers, and Spam senders ? Hmmm, I must market myself !!! OK, lets try this as my moniker :

I know what your thinking !!!!

Yes, call it clairvoyance, but I know what your thinking. Deep inside, you are asking yourself " How do I get in touch with my inner hippie ? " and those thoughts linger with others such as wondering what is the best brand of pachouli oil ? do you use organic conditioner with dreads ? do I serve a nice Chianti with those lentils..... and of course like all questions, is there a source of education and knowledge to help ponder and unfold the meaningfulness of these questions ?

Se moi ?

Yes, it is true, a hippie in fine tie die cotton attire who would very much enjoy the good humor of your company. Since I will be in your fair city Oct 19th, or near by in the lovely city of Surry, it would be nice to meet you.

Should you be so inclined to spend a few hours let me know and I can send off a ref or other requisite stuff.

And here is a recipe for a nice ridicchio salad,

1 head curly endive
1 radicchio
1 head Belgian endive
3 TB sesame seeds
1 TB sesame oil
3 TB peanut oil
2 TB white wine vinegar
4 TB honey

1 TB soy sauce
: salt -- to taste
: black pepper

1. Prepare curly endive; remove stems and tear into
small pieces. Prepare radicchio; shred. Prepare
Belgian endive; julienne. 2. Combine in a large bowl
all the greens and sesame seeds. Toss well and set
aside. 3. In a small bowl combine the remaining
ingredients; blend thoroughly. 4. Pour the dressing
over the greens mixture and serve immediately or
refrigerate, tightly covered, for a few hours.

How the fuck would anybody get "hippie" from me?! At first I thought it was a joke...but no. It's for real.

Yes, the $500 would be nice, but there's no way in hell I'm going to pretend to be a dipshit little hippie chick for three fucking hours, so I left it up to him, like so;

Hello :)

Actually, if I had an inner hippie, I'd douse it with pachouli and set the fucker on fire. However, if you forego the tie-dye (Please God...) and are staying in a good hotel either in downtown Vancouver or at the airport, I'd love to see you anyways. I don't go to Surrey; being knifed by methheads at the Skytrain isn't high on my To Do List.

Let me know Sirrah, how this grabs you...
Ironica xxxooo :)

C'mon...this is a blog...I get to be way more of an asshole than IRL. Right? Right?

UPDATE

Good evening,

Thanks for the email which conjured up an interesting image of a little toothpick person with a “ inner hippie “ image burning in the darkness. Like a Lilliputian burning man.

About a year ago, prior to the installation of nanny filters, at my place of employment, AKA, Salt Mine Inc, for fun and enjoyment I read blogs during lunch. And, one blog begat another and I stumbled upon the escort blog site and was immediately bored until I found your spirited contributions.

I thought to myself, this is a person I would like to meet. After reading a few of your entries I think I recall you mentioning your dislike for beards, long hair, and hippies. Well, I kind of figured this would count me out as a potential client. So prior to me making any commitment to a gala event I wanted to put that out there. If the long hair hippie look is really a super turn off to you I’d rather not waste and evening of your time. I don't really wear tie die etc

Let me know.
Thanks
Starchild*
* not really his name. Different goofy hippie name used.

If he hadn't made the hippie point one way or another all would have been smooth sailing.

Hello Starchild :)

Yeah...I was kind of confused that you wondered what would get you through the gate, and then described something you knew wasn't likely to help.

In any case, looks like we both have a sense of humour, so I think we'll get along just fine...when will you be coming to Vancouver? Surrey really isn't somewhere I go, so that will be a problem; hopefully, you'll be staying downtown and so all will be well.

Cheers, and looking forward to meeting,

Big Slut*
* ok, really I just put my working name.

Thanks for the email, well yes, I was being purposely contrarian as I can't fathom sending out some blah introduction and invite when your writing has provided such nice surprises.

So you annoyed me instead. Excellent. There'll definitely be more nice surprises.

Next Thursday 10/19 afternoon / evening I will be in your lovely city and would certainly look for a good reason to spend less time in Surrey.

It has been a really long time since I went bowling... a movie could be fun, a work out in the local gym, retro shopping at goodwill, a deep dive in a good book store, anyway, I do a bit better with some social time as a part of a meeting. If that sounds compatible let me know. Perhaps something in the four hour range. I would much prefer something mutually enjoyable,

No way. I ain't giving you money...

perhaps a few nibbles thrown in...

Yes. I get it. You're a renaissance man. However reading my damn website jammed just full of my spirited contributions would have told you I am the person least likely ever to go fucking bowling or work out at a local gym with a client.

You know...that whole Little Black Dress and Heels thing that's the basis for my whole working persona? Bowling shoes would look so hot with my dress and crinolines. Also, where did you get the idea I worked in the afternoon? I am not a Lady of the Lunchtime, dumbass.

BTW, I am 48, about 6 tall, 155 lbs, red hair, pink skin with a fine shade of sunburn, blue eyes and have a great eye for cool shoes.

Far fucking out. Carrot Top in pink python Converse*.

Would in fact be cool. But without the dude.

let me know
Starchild

Hello Starchild :)

How about a movie, a little nibble at a crepe place near the theatre after, and then dessert at your hotel room; meaning, of course...me! If you would prefer a four hour rather than a three hour on the evening of Thursday the 19th, that would be available for $600. There are a number of great movies out, and as I'm sure you would have picked up from my website, I'm not a bowling/going to the gym on dates kinda gal.

Notice, I emphasize 'evening'.

Good morning,

Thanks for the email, your suggestions sound fine, thank you. My schedule is a bit problematic as it would be best for me to be back in Surrey by 8:00 pm or so to attend to some work, so if your schedule allows I would like to meet up in the early afternoon, any chance of a matinee for the movie ?

Yeah, let's fuck in the aisle. Hopefully the other moviegoers won't notice. Or if they do, I want $100 an eyeball.

Hello Starchild :)

How is that going to work with a good hotel room downtown? Are you going to book it and then not use it and return to Surrey in the evening? Also, are we agreed then this will be a 4 hour rather than a 3 hour session? Is there another evening that would work better for you than the 19th, because this sudden change to early afternoon is not working well for me.

I don't include my name at the bottom. Bad sign...

HI there,

Since you are your own boss you don't have the extreme pleasure of having your schedule rearranged by others without notice !

Wait for it...

Well, maybe you do depending on the whim of clients, but you can always tell them to burn themselves in a patchouli oil pyre.

Foreshadowing...

My Name Here, when I travel and work it is often a bit challenging as either my clients or boss consider 24 hours of the day open to full exploitation or money making with me as the tool, anyway, tell me what would be a good time to meet and we will go from there.

I feel chastened, the way you used my name like that. I am a bad person.

It won't be a career killer if I miss a social event on Thursday in Surrey, so let me know the timing that works for you. Yes, for sure 4 hours, no welshing on that issue.

Excellent. You answered one and a half of the four questions I asked.

How about 8pm to midnight Thursday the 19th, downtown? Do you know what hotel you will be staying at?

I haven't made any reservations yet, suggestion ?

So...not 8 pm to midnight? Cause again, you didn't answer a direct question pertaining to setting a fucking firm appointment.

http://www.mynamehere.com/hotels.htm

That information has it's own full page on my website...notice I didn't put either his or my name in this email. Thin ice, pal, thin ice.

did I just hear you call me a fucktard ?

No, you didn't.

However, listen closely, and you'll hear it right now. I have little patience for timewasting "cute".

I lose it and $600 flies far, far away. I am not Always Be Closing.

Since I have read some of your blog postings and have enjoyed your wit and edge it is wrong of me to assume that I can banter with you.

Whining passive-aggressiveness always helps.

I know not what comes at you through your email each day and what real crap you might have to deal with. Neither do you know what shoveling I have to do each day, the correctness of each word I send out to clients, superiors, officials, etc.

Nope + Don't care.

My bad to assume too much.

"Your bad" (kill me now) was thinking that me and my wit and edge would find your evasiveness/sucking up/coyness a fascinating use of my time.

At the end of such days, without the aid of any substance other than air itself, I loosen up on the ol email. If this has creeped you out, then lets drop the meeting. Sorry to waste your time. Wishing you the best.

Alright! Up With People! He's high on life.

You didn't creep me out...please. You annoyed me. Nothing special going on there.

Obviously, there will be no meeting.

This is an example of "won't shut up, brings own shovel". If this guy had just emailed, "Hi, I'm Bob, and I'll be at a hotel downtown on Thursday. Would you be available for four hours?", rather than immediately bait a 'witty, spirited and edgy' escort and assume it would not, somehow, bite his hairy ass, all would have been flowers and kittens. But with more condoms.

Alas. It was not to be.

Damn Straight! This Goes On My Official Letterhead.

2006-10-06T00:38:00.000-07:00

DIY Seal Generator

Eggplant Rules!

2006-10-05T17:02:00.000-07:00

Select a fat dark purple delicious delicious eggplant with a taut shiny skin. Cut off both ends and peel if you want; I don't bother. Stand on flat end, and cut lengthwise into thick slices, sprinkle with lots of salt on each side, and lay in a collander over a pot or bowl. Leave 'em for a while, an hour at least, and the moisture and bitterness is drawn out. Rinse the slices well, and wring them out like sponges (really) and blot on paper towel.

Put a whack of oil in a cast iron frying pan. Get oil very hot, lay in slices - watch for spitting oil - and fry over medium heat, turning often until they are brown on each side, take your time, DO NOT UNDERCOOK. You want eggplant soft and creamy, not springy in any way.

Chow down! I like to brown a big flour tortilla on a burner, lay the eggplant slices on one half, sprinkle with cheese and lemon juice, fold over then microwave until cheese melts.

Whee!

My Farm is The Bomb

2006-10-05T00:43:00.000-07:00

Now this is a bit bananas

Never again shall I bitch about my alley full of B&Eing meth spazzes. But then again giant mines, unpleasant as they may be, don't cruise the halls on different floors in my building all hinky, knocking on doors and asking for "John".

Dear Universe...

2006-10-05T00:33:00.000-07:00

what the fuck is up with all these school shootings? Wanna call a time out or something already?

Great. My security clearance is screwed now...

2006-09-30T00:24:00.000-07:00

miss crocodile has an uncle who owns a carpet made in Afghanistan

Go on, ya Al Jazeera lovin' bastids! I know you're dirty traitors too!

10 Things That Cool Boys Are Doing Instead Of Being Lame And Queer And Having Sex

Spam. Shotgun. Shovel.

2006-09-29T00:32:00.000-07:00

Things I'm Sick of on TV...

2006-09-27T23:06:00.000-07:00

'Designed' rooms. Specifically goddamn candles. Especially in faux motherfucking fireplaces.

Pedophiles used as plotlines.

Psychic Sylvia Brown. I suggest we kill the bitch so she can put her money where her goddamn 'spirit messages from beyond' are. C'mon Sylvia! Ectoplasmate you hot bitch!

That "call me" hand gesture.

That "wave my hand slowly outside my car window in a flowing motion" gesture to show I'm deeply contented with this stupid new car.

CSI of whatever flavour having anything that you've been seeing on the Internet for 6 months as a goshdarned 'kids these days' setting or plot twist.

What's up with people getting yoinked? "Lost" "Kidnapped" "Vanished" "The 4400" "Jericho" "Runaway" "The Nine" "Heroes"? Alright already; paranoia uber alles. No need to beat it to death.

I'm a gorehound. But. One more primetime series autopsy scene with the ME sticking a pointy thing into a body to pull out some gooey object with dramatic squishy noises is going to be drowned out by the squishy noises I'll be making gouging out my fucking eyes.

Yeah. I'm grumpy. Headache patrol for 18 hours will do that. It's really annoying spending every waking moment constantly adjusting every possible contributor to giving me that final push into migraine.

The internal(and seemingly eternal)monologue goes a little something like this;

fuck...need to move my head over to the left. must rub my jaw on left side. sit up straighter, you're slumping. adjust the pillow behind my head for better non-pain-increasing angle. change angle of magazine. turn the fucking tv volume down. should I eat again? sometimes eating helps. but I'm not hungry. sitting at the computer makes my left shoulder tighten up like a bunch of twisting rubber bands. I could read. the light glaring off the page sparks pain behind my left eye. this blows.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Proof headaches aren't completely useless...while searching Google Images for 'headache', I found this wonderful thing by Robert Magginetti. The larger site containing many other fab collage artists as well.

I will tell you that is EXACTLY how my migraines feel. The pain, and the strangeness; the otherworldly aspect of being present yet not as real as everybody else. The visual oddities of flashes in my peripheral vision; loud noises setting off clanging explosions of white light behind the affected eye, usually my left. My jaw crackling like gravel sliding down the metal tilt of a dumptruck bed. My brain on the side of the road listening to the lonely pinging of its cooling engine.

Time being measured in increments of pain rather than minutes or hours. The fork in the left side of the image, pointing towards her eyes.

I'm going to lose $500 today. Absolutely no change in the last 30 hours+ in my headache, despite trying every trick i know to drive it away. No dice. Can't gripe; I did well this month, but still. What I always remind myself is "Money ain't money until it's in your hand". Softens the blow slightly.

So Close...

2006-09-27T15:23:00.000-07:00

to not having to cancel any gigs this month due to migraine. One more to go. I did very well this month;

4 x 3 hours = $2000

1 x overnight = $1000

Was able to buy some stuff I really needed like fall/winter clothes. Mind, ever the thrifty girl, I got those at the Gordon Neighbourhood House Thrift Store. That meant I could buy some of the more expensive stuff I needed as well for various paying projects; new larger leather handbag to hold the stuff I need for gigs, some MAC makeup, my new cell, my dialect cd, and so forth.

I also paid $600 worth of overdue utility bills. This last $500 gig tomorrow night will go to the $1500 tax bill I owe. Plus I have my rent for the end of this month squirelled away, and will have most of next month's stashed as well.

I'm paying for all this physically though. I've been exhausted and stiff most of this past week or so, and may have to bring out the big guns to get rid of this neckache threatening to turn into a migraine. All the same, it has been an absolutely stupendous September; sunny with a nice ocean breeze for virtually the whole month.

Starting My List Of Admired Folk...

2006-09-25T00:11:00.000-07:00

Russell Simmons

Romeo Dallaire

Robert Mitchum

Larry Campbell

Eartha Kitt

Sophia Loren

My Exceptionally Fitting Level of Hell

2006-09-24T17:53:00.000-07:00

Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis

You approach Satan's wretched city where you behold a wide plain surrounded by iron walls. Before you are fields full of distress and torment terrible. Burning tombs are littered about the landscape. Inside these flaming sepulchers suffer the heretics, failing to believe in God and the afterlife, who make themselves audible by doleful sighs. You will join the wicked that lie here, and will be offered no respite. The three infernal Furies stained with blood, with limbs of women and hair of serpents, dwell in this circle of Hell.

I am the motherfucking mayor! of the City of Dis!

So...What Else Do I Do

2006-09-19T23:47:00.000-07:00

when I'm not berating the homeless or flipping the bird at religion?

Well, I'll tell you.

First, I like walking about after dark. Often, I will encounter cats whom I like to speak to, and inevitably I will attempt to commune with a skunk.

Skunks are very, very busy at all times. I suspect them of having tiny Bluetooth earpieces and conducting international business deals at a frantic pace.

"Yeah, Chuck, I know, but I'm not going below $650,000. What's that? Hang on a sec, I gotta beep. Jim! Are we doin' it or not? I got Chuck and he's all over it buddy, offered me $900 K and I need to know if you're in...

Sorry man, a monkey was staring at me. Creepy.

Anyhow, Jim, are ya in or out?"

And lately, makin' money. I made $2000 since Thursday, so everybody's gettin' paid, even the taxman. And I smell really fucking good; I finally found a perfume that A. I like, and B. Stays on me for more than ten minutes. Burberry Brit Red, Special Edition.

And I got my Russian accent CD yesterday...can't wait to get my Natasha on.

Dear Islam Pt. 2

2006-09-18T18:39:00.000-07:00

Nobody takes the fucking Pope seriously; why start now. You'll only encourage the bastard.

PS. You need to get out more.