Bassquarter's back in the house

Bassquarter sleeping, on her spot, heated of course

So my cat Bassquarter disappears for weeks at a time in the summer, to the point where both Happy Hardcore and I both thought she was gone for good. I even wrote a post about it here. But then the cat came back the very next day. It looks like I never got around to posting that she was back, so I must have led people to believe she was still gone.

She still pops outside, but doesn't wander far and lately she has been right by the door waiting to be let back in. Now that it's colder out and the heat is on, she's likely not going back out till spring. She loves the spot behind the front door, on top of the heater. She will only leave it for food.

Toronto Votes.

I voted.

The new mayor of Toronto will be George Smitherman or Rob Ford.

I ran into my roommate Happy Hardcore, he asked if I was going to the polls. He said he was going to vote this time because "we can actually effect change on the municipal level". He hasn't voted in any recent federal or provincial elections, Once telling me he didn't believe in the process, but today I realized that he only votes when he thinks he has a chance of winning. Our riding of Trinity-Spadina is a left-leaning area and typically votes NDP or Liberal. He's beyond right-wing but I'm sure he thinks he's progressive. He would probably identify with the Tea Party if we had one in Canada (here in Canada, The Tea Party is just the name of a band that sucks). I guess our votes will cancel each other's out, but I have to think there can't be that many assholes who will actually vote for Rob Ford.

Rob Ford beat his wife, and it disappeared. He got drunk and belligerent at a Leafs game, then denied it was him till it was proven he was lying. He drove drunk in Florida and was arrested for possession of Marijuana, again denied it had happened untill it was proven he was again lying. None of his ideas make sense and his math is ridiculous. If he becomes mayor it will be bad times for the city of Toronto.

Children and Hobos unite!

I'm in the library since the internet is out at my place. Rogers says someone in my house has a botnet running (it's a virus, grandma) and wont let us back on till we find the culprit. It's nice and quiet, no happy hardcore music to annoy me, although there are a lot of children and a few hobos.

I read almost half of Philip K Dick's Do androids dream of electric sheep? but I can't take it out due to a fine on my account which I can't afford to pay($11!?!). It's a really good book, and was the basis for Ridley Scott's Blade Runner, however both works differ greatly. I will discuss it more when I finish it next week. I just feel really good about reading, like somehow I made Lavar Burton smile.

Click links and buy these tasty products!

I spent all my time reading and then working on my postcard blog so I'm going to get kicked out soon as they are closing. Perhaps I can find a coffee house with wifi?...

Our blogger packs up his macbook and proceeds to a popular American coffee house, but not finding a seat he proceeds on to a popular Canadian coffee house (Hint: Scott Pilgrim ran into Envy Adams in this very shop).


I don't normally drink coffee, it makes me chatty beyond belief. I'm feeling pooched after a great workout this morning. I'm going to be serious about the gym, and planning on taking every other day off to recover and not burn out. Te plan is to rock sexy washboard abs the ladies will not be able to resist. Which makes me think of Kevin Spacey in American Beauty.

Toronto's all night art extravaganza Nuit Blanche is this Saturday. I wanted to grab a crazy all-white outfit and still might. I think as a burner it's my responsibility to take it up a notch. I will take some pics.

The long one.

I could and should be blogging every day. Not because I think that what I have to say is so important or that the world needs to know that I had a ham sandwich for lunch but because I keeps me sane. I can put things into focus when I write it down. I need it and I shouldn't care about the reader but I do. I sometimes forget people actually read this shit. Friends, family and complete strangers alike. When I remember them I begin to self censor, and edit, or not post at all. Curiosity forces people to inquire about why I'm not blogging.

I haven't been blogging because something was (is?) wrong. It doesn't take any effort to write 500 words about a movie I saw or that Rob Ford is a fucking monster that WILL destroy Toronto IF he becomes Mayor. I have not been blogging because this is the worst it has ever been.

I was an interesting person once, I feel it slipping away. I have always felt a supreme confidence that I was special, but that feeling seems to have slipped away as the months turn to years. I hate this feeling, cause I know it's not real. Mom asks, "Do you think you might be depressed?"

Yeah you could probably call it that, but pills won't help. I need a job, a girlfriend and... I think thats about it. Not a career, just a job, I could take care of my debt and go back to Burning Man in 2011. Not a wife, just a girl who wants to be with me. Then I'm back on top.

How much of what has happened to me in life is by my own actions and how much was just chance or fluke? I can blame my handicap for a lot of things but really laziness was always the issue. 

If you could see my blog dashboard you would probably notice most posts marked as draft, meaning unpublished. I wrote a title and a few paragraphs but never completed the act buy clicking the "publish post" button. The ideas are often fully formed but I lack the fortitude to share them with the world.

I haven't worked in more than three years. I'm not proud of this, nor am I proud of suckling at the teat of an already overburdened social safety net. I could have gotten a job right away. I should have gotten a job right away. Instead I played around, living far beyond my means, my "achievements" during this time amounting to nothing more than anecdotal blog posts.

What kind of person goes to California without any prospect of how to pay for it, and then does it again 10 times? I was convinced some type of spark was waiting for me. I'm back down on planet earth now. No bailouts or lottery tickets are going to elevate my station. I will do it myself.

I have typed it before in this very space that I will do a better job but I really mean it now. I swear. The rash of posts that follow this will prove I am telling the truth. If you notice the months that follow are empty then I am a fucking liar.

I realized today that one year from now I will be almost thirty years old, a grown man with nothing to show for it but a collection of dusty souvenirs in a tiny room. If my loathing of Happy Hardcore* has given me anything it's the drive to not become him.

Click the fucking button, publish post...

*Happy Hardcore is an abrasive form of techno music popular for a brief time in the early 90's, I use the term as a pet name for my roommate down the hall who has little if any respect for the other people living in the house. The deafening sound of his terrible taste in music wafts from down the hall daily as does the smell of off brand cigarettes he constantly smokes. He is in the parlance of our times, a fucking douche bag.  

kitty is fucked up

I love listening to Howard Stern. Music is now just a buffer between Howard's shows on my iPod. I have been a fan forever, but never really able to listen. I technically can't listen to it now. I don't have Sirius, I can't afford it. But if someone wanted to download the show and listen to it for free, I would check fetalsludge. I don't know who I hate more, Ralph or Eric the Midget (but maybe Benjy).

Bassquarter's face is all fucked up cause she's scratching at it. Happy Hardcore says wants to take her to a vet, and we are all expected to pitch in. I love the kitty so I have no problems contributing, but I'm not gonna pay for the whole thing. I think the vet is just going to put a cone on her and give her antibiotics. I said she needed a cone from the beginning but everyone shot me down.

These pictures look worse than it is I assure you. She She kind of looks like Heath Ledger's Joker in the last one which is disconcerting. I will do something about it tomorrow.

Cheese Curds at Midnight in the Desert

I hurt my neck at the gym today, I noticed it in the shower but I think it happened when I was doing weights (Seated Row perhaps).

I made a bunch more chilli which should last me all week.

I live on a floor with 3 other guys and the kitchen was disgusting, cause no one does dishes after using them. So the sink would fill up and eventually people started stacking dirty dishes on the floor(and some had food in them). So eventually I put all those pots and pans in a box which sat there for weeks and then finally when the flies showed up, I moved the box outside.

Happy Hardcore confronted me about the missing dishes, we had a spat he threatened to call Sandy (the landlord) which would have been ridiculous and I guess he realized it too cause he didn't. We talked it out and we were in agreement that it had gotten to be a gross situation. It's so tense with that dude. I gotta get out of here or I risk becoming him in about 2 years when I'm 30 and old and out of touch.

Matt informed me that he and Kubi will not be going to Burning Man this year. I'm sad but at the same time it's very exciting. It will be a very different experience from last year. It will be nice to hang out with Matt and not have him all stressed. Plus I can borrow a ton of camping equipment the guys wont be using.

At least now I know where I will be camping:

Midnight Poutine

Direct from Montréal, Québec, the Black Rock Poutine Company presents an amazing Québec delicacy that has to be tasted to be believed. We combine the awesome powers of french fries, gravy, and cheese curds into the ideal late night snack. Come get some!
Hometown: Montréal, QC

My buddy Jody from Shadyvil is in the crew and I just need to get my camp fee. I can't wait cause I love the idea of Poutine on the Playa. It was the part I most identified with last year.

Now I'm going to watch The Simpsons s15 e12 Millhouse Doesn't Live Here Anymore.

FUCK HAPPY HARDCORE!

I never ask Happy Hardcore to turn his music off, just down. But he always gives me attitude like I'm trying to tell him how to live his life. YOU LIVE WITH OTHER PEOPLE ASSHOLE, SHOW A LITTLE RESPECT. All I want is to be able to watch TV at a reasonable volume in my own room, why should I be forced to hear his musical vomit?

At least when I asked him he agreed to turn it down, and did. I don't think I'm being unreasonable.

I'm going to move out of here for sure, but in the meantime I will try and spend as much time out of the house as possible.

I went to the gym today for the first time since I got back. It's been a month and it's pretty obvious.

In San Francisco Matt said something about people with fit bodies (muscular and trim) actually having a better time at Burning Man. I was pretty shocked, cause I had had a great time last year. I wondered could I have a better time if I was fit and muscular? "Yes.", says Matt. I think he might be equating having a good time with getting laid.

So I want to see what the big deal is and get in shape. I still don't think it makes me one of "the beautiful people", I don't see myself getting laid any more than zero.

"Ewwww Sandy Vagina."-Scott

Bassquarter The Kitty

This is Bassquarter, she is our house kitty. There is a crazy homeless lady who feeds the pigeons in the ally beside my house, and back in the day she would ask "Can I have a bassquarter?"(now she just says "quarter", but I still tell her to fuck off.)

My landlord Sandy brought this kitty over from across the street. She belonged to a tenant who moved out, and Sandy brought her over to take care of the mice situation. Happy-Hardcore was supposed to be feeding her, and I guess he was but it was shit. So the kitty looked sick, and it's meow was really fucked up. I think he was forgetting to feed her a lot too, cause she was meowing all the time. So Deidra decided to start feeding it, which I guess was a good idea(but she doesn't have to keep feeding it). So now I feed her. We call her Bassquarter, although everyone in the house has a different name for her.
Sometimes she hangs out in my room. She likes to fuck around in the drawers under my bed. I give her treats which she will hunt for like crazy if she gets confused and thinks there might be more than there actually are.
She does not enjoy having pot smoke blown in her face, and also hates catnip. She runs away from the minty smell of catnip, although she usually gets enough of a whiff to go kitty bonkers.
She is too cute, I bite my tongue she is so cute.
She doesn't hold still for photos, and she had some kind of cut on her nose in these photos.
She licks herself a lot, I guess keeping clean is important for kitty. She seems to spend a lot more time on her asshole that is really necessary.