i love people. more than anything else in the world. people. all shapes. all sizes. all races. all genders. all religions. the odd time i even like phony people. but only when they’re real because they are real once in awhile. i also hate people. more than anything else in the world. people. all shapes. all races. all genders. all religions. the odd time i even hate real people. but only when they’re fake because they are fake once in awhile.
i hate bad televison. i hate bad movies. i hate bad music. i hate bad theatre.
they tell you not to HATE. but who are they? people putting out bad entertainment.
they tell you to support canada. support bad molson canadian. support bad television. support bad movies. support bad theatre.
I SUPPORT WHAT I CONSIDER GOOD.
i, obviously, am smarter than most people when it comes to recognizing phony, pretentious product. otherwise kardashians, biebs, twilight, the bachelor, skyfall wouldn’t be so popular.
i wish more people would read. real books. inspiring books. knowledgeable books. books with fire. books with passion. nothing worse in entertainment than PASSIONLESS product. NOTHING. some rich boring suit deciding what we like is sickening. almost as sick as the people who fall for it.
i love people. i hate people. this is life. sometimes i’m nice. sometimes i am an utter COCK. i know it and i admit it. but i am real. with all my flaws and ugliness and cuteness and quirkiness and fire and passion and drunkeness and intelligence and dumbness. this is me. real. canadian. born into a family who sometimes cares and sometimes doesn’t but this is life and i DO. I DON’T WATCH.
while most people sit back waiting for life to throw them a bone i am living. no bingo cards. no lottery tickets. if you are boring and dull without money you will be boring and dull with money. FACT.
we all eventually get old. wrinkle. lose hair. lose friends. lose family. lose jobs. lose money. lose respect. lose pensions. lose our virginity (maybe…if you wear a leather jacket with ryerson engineering on it you never lose your virginity). lose dogs. lose cats. LOSE.
at the end of our lives and while sitting on our deathbeds what do you want to feel? what do you want to see? what do you want to think?
REGRET IS PAINFUL SO CHANGE NOW AND NOT AFTER YOU HAVE WON THE LOTTERY.
i want to write more but i have to leave to pick up my absolutely gorgeous, fun, loving, interesting, and unique daughter. it will be sad when i die and have to leave her behind.
Category: Uncategorized
dogs.
I HATE FUCKING DOGS. FUCKING TINY LITTLE FUCKING YAPPY DOGS. CONSTANTLY BARKING. CONSTANTLY SHITTING. CONSTANTLY PISSING. NEEDY FUCKING ANIMALS. Dog owners are worse. Treating their yappy animals like humans. Talking to them like humans as if they are able to understand. FUCKING IDIOTS!!! Buying winter jackets for their fucking dogs. Buying winter boots for their fucking dogs. Probably making love to their fucking dogs. I HATE FUCKING DOGS. Owners leaving dog shit everywhere so REAL HUMANS can walk in it and get shit all over the fucking carpet. On kids shoes. Kids boots. I HATE FUCKING DOGS. FUCKING DOG OWNERS. DOG WALKERS ARE THE WORST. Dumb as stump humans pretending they are good for something. No good pieces of shit. DOG BARKING LIKE CRAZY AT MY DAUGHTER. READY TO ATTACK. “Oh…he’s just saying HI. He’s friendly…” FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING NO GOOD LOSER PIECE OF SHIT!!!
Dogs barking everywhere. All I hear is fucking dogs. Why can’t I shit everywhere? PISS EVERYWHERE? YAP ALL THE TIME. ATTACK PEOPLE. SMELL. SHED. FUCKING YAPPY USELESS ANIMALS. FUCKING DOGS AND DOG OWNERS. THEY SHOULD HAVE TO LIVE IN A FUCKING GATED AREA. FUCKING SHUT UP!!!!
Lonely people once again trying anything to not be lonely. SAD LIFE.
JUSTIN BIEBER.
i personally have nothing against justin bieber. i realize, i guess, that some tweens and younger kids (under ten and female) might like him but i think we are a disgrace as a society if we fool ourselves into thinking he is some sort of fantastical artist who is going to stand the test of time.
fans booed him at the grey cup in toronto and middle aged women are sooo upset over this. why aren’t you upset that he is a fraud and lipsynchs??? i remember when ashlee simpson lipsynched on snl and everyone was up in arms over this so what has changed??? is it because he is canadian and we are supposed to support our canadian talent??? i hope not. i support talented people who i like. i do not feel because i am born in canada that i must support utter garbage. we have shit shows on television that most people do not watch. we have boring theatre that i know most people don’t watch. we have some great bands out there who most people haven’t even heard of nor even bothered to try and hear of yet you are focused on “poor” little tweenty looking biebs. get over yourselves!!! he is a spectacle not an artist and he should stick to his tweeny demographic or risk what happened last night which is getting booed. i wish more people would boo average acts and stop this nonsense on supporting average work just because it is canadian. do we live in some sort of dictatorship where we don’t have our own voice. don’t have freedom of speech. OUR POP CULTURE IS SAD. IT’S PATHETIC. IT’S BORING. IT’S DULL. IT’S SAFE. IT’S FLUFF. IT’S FAKE. why not focus on this instead of focusing on “poor” biebs getting booed.
HASHTAG (LOL). WHY DO WE APPLAUD FAKE AND PHONY??? LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND ASK YOURSELVES. SERIOUSLY…WHY? WHY? WHY?
world’s worst hangover?
So horny. Don’t want to take off my glasses to write but can’t see with them on. Red headed girl behind counter is so hot. Perky tits. Zits. Would love to fuck the red headed girl. Trying to focus but can’t. Always horny. Jerked off twice today but still not enough. Fantasy. Horny. Hot. Restless. Edgy. Too many girls. Too much GUILT. NICE FUCKING TITS. Guys are such fucking geeks these days. No men. No real men. Pansies. Feel sorry for girls. Slim pickings out there. Boys. Boys. Boys. Perky tits. What to write? What to write? What to write?
The night started like every other night. Left my apartment. Left my girls and took a cab down to The Keg for dinner and wine. Lots of wine. Red. Sit at the bar and chat with the bartender. Look around. Order my bottle. Half price wine. Can’t lose. Start drinking. Talking. Flirting. Reading. Looking around constantly. Girls everywhere. Always. Torture. Always. Drink. Order my steak. Drink. Talk. Crazy? Yes. Fun? Yes. Continue to drink. Look over to my right. See girl with nice panties bending down. Torture. Can see panties but blurry. Very blurry. If I put my glasses back on it would be too obvious. Who gives a fuck? Glasses back on. Horny. Story forgotten for now. Perky tits. Nice panties. Some things are more important than others. ART??? Who gives a fuck right now. LIFE MORE IMPORTANT. Perky tits and panties now back behind counter. Glasses off again. Mine. Not hers. She doesn’t wear glasses…yet.
Continue to drink. One glass. Two glasses. Three glasses. And four. Steak arrives. Tonight is going to be a good good night. No rules. No regulations. Inhale my steak. Inhale my wine. Order another bottle. Living in the moment. Talk to Jonah. Talk to Scott. Talk to Jesse. Look at young girls. Talk to Ang. I AM HERE. I AM ALIVE. Starting to sweat. Nothing new. Pick up my phone. Text Luis. Looking for excitement. Girls. Girls. Girls. Luis is always surrounded by girls. Time is flying by. Always does when you are having fun. Death? NO. NOT TONIGHT. Get in touch with Luis.
“Hey Mckenna. We’re going out to a few bars on Ossington with my buddy. You in?”
“For sure. Let me finish up here and I’ll take a cab over to meet you.”
I finish up my wine. Pay my bill. Fifty four bucks. Great deal. DRUNK. Two bottles of wine. Steak. Girls. Conversation. ON FIRE. HOT. SWEATY. HORNY. Say bye to all my friends (?) at The Keg and stumble out the door. Already in a semi blackout. Hop into a cab. somalian driver of course. I won’t get stabbed I hope.
“Where you go?” somalian says in angry voice.
“Queen and Dufferin,” I respond in drunken voice.
Cabbie takes off. Slowest way of course. somalian music on. Talking on cellphone. Smelly. Stinky. Dirty. Eventually we arrive at Luis’ apartment. Pay somalian. Get out. Barely. Stumble into Luis’ apartment. Luis and his alcoholic friend standing. Drinking. Talking. Yelling. I laugh and go to the fridge for more booze. Hat still on. Drink. Talk. Laugh. Drink more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And more. And…WAKE UP. Phone ringing. Laura yelling, “Where are you? Where are you?”
“Luis’ place,” I respond.
“When will you be home?”
“What time is it?”
“Six o’clock”
“OHHHH FUCK. I will leave now,” I answer in a panic.
Sweating. Head pounding. Drunk. Still drunk. Get up. Lying on floor. No blankets. No puke. Get up and stumble out the door. Glasses on. THANK GOD. Pull out my keys and hop in my car. Start the car. Look in the mirror. Can’t see and begin to drive home. DRUNK. Talk on the phone to someone but forget who. Two hands on the wheel. Always two hands on the wheel when drunk. Drive home. Stop at Tim Horton’s first. Two large coffee’s and timbits for Taylor. I love Taylor so much. Get coffee’s and timbits and make my way home. Park car. Stumble upstairs into apartment. NO HAT.
“Daddy’s home,” I say drunkenly.
Taylor comes running out of bedroom. Our bedroom. Gives me a running hug. I LOVE TAYLOR’S RUNNING HUGS!!! We drink our coffee’s. Eat some toast. Tv on. Kiddie shows. For Taylor. Not me. Talk. Play. Drink more coffee. Pop four Advil’s. Try to get sober. Smile. Sweat. Shower. Change clothes. Not underwear. Bring Taylor to Daycare. DRUNK. Laura now driving. I stay in car as Laura brings Taylor into school. Kiss Taylor good-bye. Give her a huge hug and lay back on seat. Wait for Laura to come out. Laura comes out and we go for breakfast. Good place. New. Good. Expensive but good. We sit down. Order more coffee. Pasty. Order more coffee along with sausage and eggs and a side of potatoes. Not sure what Laura orders. Drink coffee. Get refill. Drink coffee. Another refill. Now up to four large coffees. Who cares? Only live once. Laura talks. I listen. Still drunk. Head still pounding. Still pasty. Still sad. Always sad. Always mad. Always happy. Always. Always. Always.
Food arrives. We eat. No potatoes.
“I think you forgot my potatoes,” I say to the waitress.
“Oh right. So sorry. I’ll be right back,” she responds.
The waitress rushes back to the kitchen. We eat what we have. Drink more coffee. Eat and drink. Always once again. Food is delicious even though I can’t really taste it. The waitress brings over the potatoes. Sets them in front of me. Steaming. Smelly. Good smelly. Not somalian smelly. I blow on them and then dig in. I put a forkfull in my mouth and, “OWWWWWWWWWWWW…HOT…HOT…AHHHHHHHHHH…AHHHHHHHHHH.”
I blow and blow while potatoes are still in my mouth. HOT. HOT. HOT. I blow and blow and blow and then BOOM!!! I collapse to the floor. under the table. Panic. Laura petrified. Waitress runs over. CHAOS. Screaming. Yelling. Panicking. Waitress calls 911. DAD???
The ambulance arrives. Paramedics arrive. Approach table. Laura still screaming. Thinking I’m dead. Not yet. Paramedics grab me. Lift me up.
“Are you okay sir? Do you know where you are?” they ask.
They keep asking questions but I barely respond. Not really knowing what had just happened. Not really knowing where I am.
“Are you okay?” they continue.
“Yeah…I…just…I’m a little dizzy…but okay…I think.” I respond.
“We’ll take him down to Sunnybrook Hospital for observation.”
The paramedics walk me to the ambulance. Laura follows. Bill at restaurant paid…I think. We get in the ambulance. Head really pounding now. Talking a lot more now. STILL DRUNK??? We arrive at hospital. Sit in the emergency waiting room for a bit and then get carried into a room on a stretcher. Scared. Scared. Drunk. Dad. Thoughts. Sweats. Fear once again. FUCK FEAR.
The nurse comes in and hooks me up to an I.V. She asks a few questions and leaves. Small white room. Me and Laura. Taylor at Daycare. Will I see her again? We sit. Talk. Sweat. Head still pounding. Pasty. Laura gets me water. What happened? Not knowing what happened. Unsure. Always unsure.
Doctor arrives. HOT. Young. HOT. She asks me a few questions. My history. Family history etc and then gives me some tests. I told her I had one bottle of wine (I lied) last night and maybe that’s what caused my collapse. She didn’t think so and ordered me to have some x-rays. Starting to feel a little better. The I.V. working. Still sweating. Still shaking. Hungry. Pasty. Edgy. HORNY. ALWAYS HORNY.
We wait. And wait. And wait. Hospitals always make you wait. Even when you are dying. Complacency at it’s ugliest. Finally a big fat black nurse comes in and wheels me down to the x-ray room. We arrive and wait again. Wasting life away. Laura not with me anymore. She remained in my room. Get wheeled into x-ray room eventually and sit still. Flash. Sound. Flash. Sound. Flash. Sound. Dark. Then lights go on.
“That’s it. I’ll now wheel you back.”
“Thanks.”
The big fat black nurse now wheels me back to my room. Head still throbbing. We arrive. Nurse leaves. Laura looks at me with a look of concern. LOVE. UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.
“How do you feel now?” she asks.
“Okay. Still foggy.” I reply.
“I called your Mom and brother to let them know.”
“Okay. Good. Thanks.”
“I love you Jack.”
“I love you too Laura.”
We sit and talk and giggle and talk some more. My covers covering me. HOT. COLD. HORNY. SWEATY. CLAMMY. PASTY. BLURRY. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT.
Sean arrives and looks scared.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, I feel better.”
We all talk and laugh and joke around.
“Are you sure it’s not just a hangover?” my brother continues with a big grin on his face.
“I don’t know…maybe.” I respond with a hint of embarrassment.
“Yeah, it’s a hangover. World’s worst hangover. Milking the taxpayer’s dollars for a stupid hangover,” he continues.
We all begin to laugh and joke some more. I.V. almost done. Still feeling shitty but not a bad hangover remedy!!! Then the doctor arrives. Looking a little frightened. A little concerned.
“Mr. Tait. We found a little something on your brain. It could be nothing but it could also be a small tumour. Don’t panic but we’ll need to bring you in for an MRI to get a better look. Don’t worry it’s probably nothing.”
Silence. Laughter quickly erased. Fear sets in. For real. Real fear. NOT FUCKING FEAR FACTOR. FUCKING SHIT SHOWS. I look over at Laura. FEAR. I look at Sean. FEAR. Could this be it? I finally have cancer.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Big black nurse quickly arrives again and wheels me down to the MRI room. Laura and Sean remain. Terrified. Laura so scared. So scared. Fear in her eyes. Sean scared too. Me too. I arrive at MRI room and wait…again. always fucking waiting. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone out last night.
WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. Doctor finally arrives. Speaks nicely to me. Pleasantly. Forget if he/she was a male or female. She gives me the whole breakdown on the procedure. I nod my head as if to say, “YES. I understand.” Didn’t really understand but I just wanted to get the whole ordeal over. Wait a little longer. Hear various noises. Brightness everywhere. Eyes sore. Head still throbbing. I lay down on some table. Doctor straps me in. Uncomfortable table of course. My head unable to move. Stare straight up. My head jammed into some sort of brace. The doctor warns me that if I get claustrophobic that I just have to press the red button. I look at it. Countdown is on. I hear the doctor’s now muzzled voice on the speaker.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. And one.”
My body now moving into this tube. Strapped in. Claustrophobic. Hungover. Scared. Slowly moving. Weird noise. Buzzing noise. Within seconds I am fully in the tiny tube.
“Okay Mr. Tait. We will begin. You will hear many loud noises and this will go on for thirty minutes. You have nothing to worry about. I am right here in this room. You might feel claustrophobic but just try and stay still as we need to get a good reading and the only way is if you do not move too much. If you do get scared you just need to press the red button. Okay?”
“Okay.” I respond in pure panic mode.
“Here we go. We will begin now.” the doctor continues.
NOISE. NOISE. NOISE. Scary thoughts racing through my pounding head.
“Is this doctor some sort of crazed lunatic?” I thought.
Felt I was suffocating. Hot. Sweaty once again. PANIC. PANIC. PANIC. Look up. Open eyes. Close eyes. Open eyes once again. Trying anything to feel more comfortable. Less scared. Walls caving in.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I scream and then press the red button.
The doctor shuts off the noise. The tube opens up. I feel better again. Sweat pouring down my red face.
“Is everything okay Mr. Tait?” the doc asks.
“Yes. It’s just a little scary. I’ll try again. Just give me a few seconds.”
“Okay…but just remember we can’t get a good reading if you move around too much.”
“Okay…okay. I am ready.”
The tube starts humming again. I start moving again. Strapped in again and now moving slowly back into the tiny space shuttle looking thing. Eyes open? Eyes closed? NOISE once again. Head pounding once again. Me sweating once again. Sit still. Sit still. For once in my life I try to sit still. Not working. Panicking. Not breathing. Choking. Crazy doctor suffocating me again. Oh oh. Oh oh. Panting. Dizzy. Edgy. LOUD. LOUD. LOUD. Am I in a horror movie?
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I scream and then hit the red button again.
The doctor shuts off the noise. The tube moves again and allows me to breathe again. I AM STILL ALIVE!!!
“Mr. Tait would you rather do this on another day? We can’t keep starting and stopping the machine. You must sit still or we can re-schedule. What do you think?” the doctor asks with a real coldness.
“I am sorry. It’s just a little scary. That’s all.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Can we try once more?”
“Sure but remember it is a lot easier if you close your eyes.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t forget to close your eyes.”
“I won’t.”
The machine starts up again. My panting begins again. Close my eyes. Hear loud noises. Tube coming in on me. I feel like I am going to suffocate again. Keep my eyes closed. Think of big tits. Small tits. Fucking. Sucking. Palm trees. Beaches. Panties. Anything to keep my mind off of what is happening. DO NOT BE IN THE MOMENT!!!! Mind wandering as usual. Start counting. Get up to fifteen minutes. Fall asleep for a bit. Wake up for a bit. Back to counting. Can I do this??? Starting to panic once again. Start to sweat once again. Fidget. Think. Count. HOT. I think the doctor is ready to come in and stab me to death. WHY??? The clock continues. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. And one last loud noise. The machine shuts off. The lights are bright. The tube begins to move away. The doctor arrives.
“Good job.”
“Thanks.”
She unbuckles me and my head and now wheels me back to my room once again and now we WAIT. WAIT. AND WAIT. Life is so shitty sometimes that you have to wait to die. VERY SAD. At least I have loved ones with me.
We all chat again but this time with a little more sombreness. Tired. Scared. Headache almost gone. Hangover almost gone. Hope Taylor is okay. WAIT…………………………………………………………………………
The doctor arrives with a picture in her hand. She looks serious. Am I going to live or am I going to die? Doctors are hard to read. She closes the door behind her and comes closer. I look at the doctor but not before I give Laura one last look. She smiles. I smile back.
The doctor speaks. “So you don’t have a tumour Mr. Tait.”
I almost instantly cry. Tears in Laura’s eyes. Sean looks relieved as well.
“What we found is that you have a little gap in your brain and on the x-ray it appeared to look like a tumour. “
“Is that bad?” I respond.
“No. Everyone has little gaps in their brain. It is totally normal. The nurse will come and help you with your belongings and you can leave.”
“Thanks Doctor. So what do you think happened?”
“Hard to tell but it might just have been dehydration. Too much coffee.”
“Oh…yeah. Thanks.” I say back knowing the whole time it was the booze mixed with the coffee mixed with the lack of sleep and finally mixed with the heavy breathing after consuming the potatoes. LIFE.
She leaves. Sean laughs. Laura gives me big hug. Sean leaves. Everything appears to be okay. For now. Laura’s friend from work bringing us both pasta from a take out place. Shauna at home with our beautiful daughter Taylor. It is now ten pm. We began our breakfast at ten am. Twelve hours. LOVE.
I wish my Dad never died.
words can’t hurt me.
HOT!!! I’m always HOT. And sweaty. Clammy. Left eye bothering me. Runny nose. Feel weak. Run down. Left eye burning. Feeling tired. Feeling like shit. ALWAYS. I need to go to a doctor. What is wrong with me? This has lasted way too long. Killing myself. Can’t see anymore. Falling apart. Sore throat. Scratchy. Lack of energy. Lack of motivation. Am I in a depression again? Stomach grumbling. Ready to explode in a splattering of shit. Wipe my ass for twenty minutes. Left eye still bothering me. Need to squint. Getting old. Is this what happens? Alone. Always alone. Mom always alone. Doesn’t let anyone in. Laura opened me up. Plus all the psychologists and psychiatrists I have gone to over the years. Not to mention AA groups and detox centres and rehab centres and Toronto East Detention Centre and Mimico Correction Centre and Don Jail and drunk tanks. What a tormented mess my life has been. Where is the juice from all this bullshit??? Just sitting there. Brewing. Bubbling. I can’t believe society has fucked me over so much and yet I’m still functioning. STRENGTH AND COURAGE. NOTHING WILL STOP ME. WORDS CAN’T HURT ME. INVINCIBLE. BEEN BULLIED MY WHOLE LIFE. I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!
Horniness prevails. Young hot blonde in line at Starbuck’s. Can’t stop staring. I’m like a predator. Wait for the moment to look. Wait for the moment to strike. Nose about to run. Look like a wreck. Blonde bending down all over the place. Look. Look. Look. Have to go to work. Uniform. Uniformity. Conformity. Dumb useless rules made by dumb useless people. Minions. SHORT MINIONS. Guests want realism. Management want Shakespeare. PHONINESS trying to creep into my life. My life with the sore left eye. Run down. More pills. Horny at 9am. Interesting seeing all the people going to work at 8am. Robots. Safe. Secure. Do not criticize. Who cares? Let them be. Worry about myself. Worries. Worries. Worries. Worries. Procrastination. Fear. Finish screenplay. Finish novel. Let go and let loose. Play. Do not obey. Rules and opinions. Live for the now BUT DO NOT FORGET the past nor neglect the future. HOT CHICKS EVERYWHERE. Head pounding. Headache. Hope I don’t die young like Dad. Nose running. Me picking. Laura yelling. When was the last time I was healthy? BRAIN HEMORRHAGE??? FREE. FREEDOM. FREEDOM TO LIVE. Want to fuck everything I see BUT WILL NOT HURT LAURA. REAL LOVE. Never had this before. We will grow old together…with our baby. We will survive. We will flourish. ENJOY LIFE. HAVE FUN. GROW. Chinese chicks. I’m horny for everything. Picking my nose all day. Flabby belly. Ingrown hairs on neck. Balding. Hairy. Sweaty. Wrinkles. Zits. I’m attractive?
notanotherphony. 