here we are now.... entertain us

emperor3d

Subject:	"Squalor Victoria"
Time:	2:48 am.
Mood:	soooo tired OMG.
Music:	The National -- Racing Like A Pro.

Update: I am still going to be deleting all the ~~motherfuckers~~ people who didn't comment on my last post (and keeping some that didn't because it's THE FUCKING WAY IT IS m0m0s) but I found this blog-worthy and organizing my FL would take hours. I awoke this morning at around 7:30AM. I ate All Bran at 8:00AM. I was in the shower at 8:30AM. At 8:35AM I had the biggest OMFGWTFSRSLY face in the world. I have no idea wtf this is or where I got it. I know last night I did not have this on the side of my tummy. It's even grosser in person. Uhm.

Can I get
a WTF??

(and yes that's a sailboat)

How much more black?: 148 more black? - none, none moreblack!

Time:	11:21 am.
Music:	mystical castles.

_{Recently things have been so g_ddamned great. I've made a lot of footing on the going back to get my Masters degree. I think this is possibly the biggest, most important decision I've made in my life up to this moment. It'll open up opportunities that I couldn't have acheived with my Business degree alone.

Anyhow I'm in the process of appealing to bypass some of the prerequisite courses I would need to take at Community College. Cal Poly gave me a list of courses it feels would be necessary for me to make a case, and because I've completed all my Calculus courses and had some Geology classes, I've narrowed down the field quite a bit. I have (5) classes I'll need to take over the course of a year and a half, while working full/part-time, and they'll have to be taken at 2 different community colleges. Fortunately, I won't have to take some of the more gruelling classes, like thermo-dynamics, fluids and shit. I don't even have to take the Chemistry (which I've had a little of in the past) and if I'm lucky with my campaign, I won't have to take the Physics classes either: jumping right into Statics and Dynamics.

I wrote a two-page statement in defense of my appeal. I think the Community College likes what they're reading. I'll know their decision (one that will either keep my critical path at 1.5 years, or--if denied--will add another year to my journey) in 7-10 days.

I've been wanting to do a post on the finishing of my room, all the painting and bed-building is done. I'm now sleeping on a custom-made sustainable bamboo/pine platform bed. I'll get to that post with photos soon.

Mary and I went to a midnight showing of the new batman film. Traditionally, I HATE superhero movies. Typically, I'm a realist and as far I get into supernatural shit is what is offered in action films like Heat, a mob film, or in horror movies. Anyway, the latest batman is the best film I've seen since No Country For Old Men. It's seriously unbelievably great, and the rich characters is seriously a surprising luxury. The shit is so dark and malevolent and beautiful and absorbing. And Ledger does deserve an award (even though there's no way he'll get one) for his performance. It seriously kicks ass. I've been thinking about the film non-stop for two days. Plus it has one of the best endings ever. Great, great, great fucking film.

I'm heading south to the Camarillo outlets to do some shopping before my weekend trip to Vegas (next weekend).

I hate Vegas, by the way. It's a fucking toilet, but I'm going for a friends birthday. I wish she would have decided on, like, Hawaii or something. Vegas is such a horseshit City. Makes me feeling like I'm hanging out in a bigass fraternity house.

Oh, you like tits? How about death by motherfucking tits? We'll give you so many tits that you'll litterally overdose, froth from the mouth, because of the caligula of disgusting breasts we're going to pummel you with. You don't like alcohalic twenty-year-olds or junkies trying to live the dream? Too bad, here's a gutter full of vomit and some bimbos taking myspace photos of their tits with some apelike tanned assholes spiking their drinks with cancerous aids. How about old people? You like busloads, literally busloads, of angry old douchebags gambling away their 401Ks faster than a child in a gumball shop with a pocket full of quarters.

Oh yeah, and that chicken dinner is going to cost you fifty dollars, cuz you're eating it with a disco light flashing over your table as we dare epilepsy. Fuck Vegas.

This Mystical Castles record is awesome.

I need another pair of boots. Zappos has some great looking Frye (non-biker) boots.}

How much more black?: 8 more black? - none, none moreblack!

emperor3d

Time:	12:48 am.
Mood:	I am, like, tired.
Music:	Wolf Parade.

So anyway, I am back in Toronto *extremely long exasperated sigh followed by a shrug of doomsday-centric sentiments*. I had a nice time. I love my family. Sunday was to be filled with magical family delights but had been compromised by my ruined slumber. For some reason last night I couldn't sleep. I think I had too much caffeine. Every time I was about to nod off, my body did this twitching thing. Like, my arms would convulse, violently. At one point I hit myself in the head by accident in only a way that is unique to being me. This repeated until it was morning and I just said 'fuck that noise.' and had breakfast. In my attempts to achieve a state of slumber I took care of business maybe seven times. During this process I discovered I had a cyst on my upper right chest...al area -- ever so slight & under my skin. The last time I had a cyst, it resided to the side of my left ass... I remember this one time it actually ruptured en-route somewhere going east along the Bloor subway line. Fortunately, it didn't become a visual & public display of Epic Fail but when I got home to investigate it, the cyst exploded in a celebration of projected blood and puss when I touched it. I know what you're thinking -- That's so hot. and I'm all like, OMG I know. and then you're all like *awkward silence* and I'm like look at this photo, srsly.

Polish Gypsy Cyganska Pork Sausage > Humanity & All Human Accomplishments, excluding creation of sausages

Show of hands -- Who's jealous they don't have Polish Gypsy Cyganska pork sausage in their refrigerators? In other news I've become reacquainted with Oscar Wilde's, The Picture of Dorian Gray. I haven't read this since University days. It's his greatest accomplishment, for everything else he did was a bag of big crap. So....
And no I'm not going to start quoting Oscar Wilde in my blog now...

"All art is quite useless" -- O.W.

emperor3d

Subject:	Windsor Arms.
Time:	12:14 am.
Music:	The National.

Sporty Preppy SAS spice

Dear ~~diary~~, ~~bitches~~, comrades. Guess what? Windsor still sucks. Today I went for a walkabout in downtown Windsor and got myself my favourite beverage on earth, which would be a Banana Flavoured French Soda. If anyone ever wishes me to be happy, you hand me one of those. I then ran into an exexexexgf of mine. It was all pleasant if not awkward before she started casually berating me for things normal people would have long forgotten. So I ran away from that. I tell you a few things, okay? One. Today should have been an official International Oasis Appreciation Day. The new oasis song is MEGA. Get it!. I don't know what the official song sounds like -- Kasabian much Noelypants? Nobody updated me. Thank you to the handful of people who made sure I knew of this momentous event and provided links. Two. The United Nations really fucked the albino tiger on this one when they declared today to be World Population Day. WTF is that? Anyway, apparently we're 6709408406 strong (give or take a few hundred million). I am human number 4536760324. I have green eyes and it's been scientifically and statistically proven that only 1-2% of the world has green eyes (wikipedia). Suck on that every other coloured eye person! And when the world is one less, I will have lived 10+ years of the rest of my life in senility,

( here. )

emperor3d

Subject:	Mission Aborted \| Thursday has been compromised. File Ref. marked "Food"
Time:	1:08 pm.
Music:	Monaco.

1944

I don’t know. This creative freelancing thing is all well and good but my primary client is proving to be problematic. Things may become nasty and I might threaten legal action. If I’m honest with myself I’ll sue him for being ugly and retarded in varying degrees of awfulness. I know I awoke this morning in an unusual position. I know that last night I dreamt of my previous girlfriend (or whatever we call this business), Amy, seeing me off at the airport. I had matters to take care of in England and we were redefining PDA at the international departures gate. It was like, so fucking hot. At one point she got teary-eyed and said ‘this is hard’ (in relation to sentiments expressed by people who are in love and are situated in International Airport Terminals ) to which I jokingly responded to by saying ‘that’s what she said.’ She then slapped me across the face rather hard. We both looked at each intensely and erupted into maniacal laughter. The dream segued to my bedroom and it got excitingly perverted & sexually dark (read: awesome) in such ways that if I descriptively wrote this all out, I would probably win lots of fucking acclaim & awards for “greatest writer” as it relates to sexually graphic literature. I know that much. I also know the combined worth & weight of the words longing & love will never suffice in defining all of this. I may have awoken from my slumber incredibly sad like some generic asshole. I don’t know.

This here is my chicken cutlet sandwich. I’ve tentatively named it “the sasandwich” do you get it? It’s made with Smoked Applewood Cheddar and has an Aioli sauce incorporated. Aioli is basically garlic mayonnaise. However, if you say you’re making Aioli it just sounds fancier than saying garlic mayo. Plus, it utilizes raw eggs. So in addition to the overall awesomeness that is my sasandwich, there’s a 5% chance you’ll die from salmonella poisoning. That's what makes this culinary experience so enthralling. Your death certificate’s cause of expiration will read: misadventure. That’s hot. Aioli is commonly referred to as the “butter of Provence”. Everything sounds better with the word Provence interjected therein. "I fell in love in Provence." -- "I got married in Provence. -- We walked hand-in-hand along the hillside of Provence." -- "I got stabbed in the testicle so I shot the motherfucker… in Provence." It just works.

I am packing and traversing southwards for the weekend. So in parting, comrads, friends, loyalists to the republic: I am temporarily relinquishing control to the deputy of Homeland Security. I hope she does not squander these powers. Remember to stay clear of the ironic fashionistas, the disgustingly good looking Starbucks baristas, generic cloned copies of copies and the rockabilies. For these are the very worst offerings brought forth by creation. For they are all enemies to the Republic. Avoid Class-A drugs, maybe. Avoid capture at all cost! Whence I return we shall congregrate and discuss the wandering ways that is Liam Gallagher's hair. Subtopics of these talks shall include Guitar-centric New Order versus Keyboard Synths New Order. We will devise a strategically-sound mission plan for world domination. We shall burn Euteka to the ground. We’re gonna burn Euteka to the fucking ground.