Maybe the Bathroom Ceiling's Not Enough

I remember what I dreamt about you last night, Darce.
We were on some dark vacation and my dad was there and we were eating these really huge plastic tubes of candy that were like those banana candies but in thick liquid form.
We were in a paint store.
I said that I didn't think the living room was that important because it's been looking good with all the art up in there. Maybe we should do the hall next?
You started buying a five gallon thing of white without conferring with me. You said we weren't going to paint until winter for some reason that sounded gay to me. Then you bought his ugly texture net thing that I didn't understand. I suggested maybe painting the wainscoting in the dining room glossy red and leaving the walls the same color. You said that was stupid and wouldn't talk about it. I couldn't find any wallpaper to look at. Then I got mad at you. I got all high pitched and cold. The salesman was on your side.

Along with a picture of John MacKay...

this was also in today's paper:

Lobster thief a double-dipper
By Richard Dooley


A rollerblading bandit who poached a handful of lobsters from the Quinpool Road Atlantic Superstore on Wednesday night may have escaped the long arm of the claw earlier in the day.

A witness who wishes to remain anonymous said Wednesday’s theft of live market-size lobsters was the bandit’s second catch of the day at the store.

The witness told The Daily News the Rollerblading bad guy had made a quick trip past the fish counter in the afternoon and escaped with an unknown number of live lobsters.

When the thief skated past the fish counter again around 7 p.m., an alert plainclothes security guard spotted the crustacean crook and tried to reel him in. The Rollerblader managed to get outside the store before the guard wrestled the wheeled thief to the sidewalk.

The Rollerblader reached into a pocket and pulled out three or four syringes and began jabbing them at the security guard.

The thief dropped one of the syringes, which appeared to be clean. But the others were obviously dirty. The witness said the Rollerblader was trying to stab the guard with the needles.

“There was a pale, yellow fluid in the other ones,” said the witness. “They were nasty.”

The Rollerblader skated away, but the guard managed to retrieve about $100 worth of lobsters and return them to the store.

It’s not known how many lobsters were taken earlier in the day.

Halifax Regional Police still have the matter under investigation. They’re looking for a slimly built 19-year-old, wearing shorts and T-shirt. The crook had a backpack and wore a blue cap. Police are testing the syringe to determine its contents.

The guard wasn’t injured in the tussle with the thief.

This man is a hero. Oh, and a drug addict.

Post # 30!

The Chronicle-Herald reports:

Lobster thief escapes on in-line skates
A lone suspect escaped from a Halifax grocery store on in-line skates after stealing an unknown amount of lobster from the seafood tanks Wednesday evening. The male suspect entered the Atlantic Superstore on Quinpool Road just before 8 p.m. Described as about 19 years old and thinly built, he was wearing a T-shirt and a hat.

Police said when the security guard tried to stop him, the suspect waved a syringe, which he later dropped on his way out the front doors.

Johnstreet residents darsaur and eldee would like you to know that suspect was not wearing a cap and the men in pursuit were hilarious. According to what we assume was a floor-walker, the thief stole "$100 worth of lobster, and he stabbed me with a needle!"

Please note that spellcheck would like me to replace "Quinpool" with "gunplay". Gladly! Now that's a story.

"You're turning on me too.."

Avocado just made me feel sick.

How can this be? Just imagining the texture is making me gag.

This is a black day.

Everybody hates it.

And I don't care. I like my new hair colour, even though I really do feel like I'm wearing a wig.
Men hate it the most. They just don't understand.
Things I've heard so far:
"It's just not you"
"But I liked your old colour"
"Is this your natural shade?"
"Lemme guess, you're wearing contacts"
"WOW"
"It's sure different"

Ungrateful fuckers. I am clearly a knockout.

Things not to do if you're depressed and confused
:drink three beer in the afternoon.
:kill the ditch weed.
:start on the red wine
(even if it is a new kind and you rather like it)
:put any sort of stock in yourself. Like, if you start out at a perfect 10 you can only go down, right? Same's true in this mind set even if you credit yourself at a five in the beginning.
:check in on your ex-boyfriend in the morning. Of course his bed will be unslept in, shithead.
:smile at people you know on the street. If they look at you in anyway that is not 100% clearly amicable you will die from it.
:talk to anyone about it. They'll just know you're weak.
:sleep. The red wine will just make you dream about awful nightmarish things that everyone else seems to think are ok as they do them to one another, why are you running away? And Mark Black will have a legless girlfriend, complete with stumps, and you will see him carrying her to bed on a short swing.
:wake up. Oh god no. What are you going to do now? Think? Fool.
And your mouth's all dry from the red wine.
:touch the Internet.

No shipping.

No scary hobo dogs in the tunnel this morning. I was sure that would be a sign of a good day.
Thanks to Coffee Crisp and my bulging belly, maybe it still can be. Oh, and Harry Potter. Oh, and my new hair.
The Oh God show isn't until next week, like Melissa said. That's good because my wallet does not resemble my belly in any way.
Offices are murderously boring. No wonder we're all so fat.

Any time someone calls, I've taken to writing down their name which would be helpful if I didn't leave them laying all over my desk. "Hi, Krista? Oh. Kathy? Okay, sorry. Trina?"

Frig it.

A Pound of Shit.

I certainly don't think I could sleep with a pound of thick green shit secured to my ass. Especially if it smelled so bad that I could taste the smell on my toungue. Especially if it weighed 1/35 of my body weight.
I cleaned that shit up but he's still quietly getting out of bed. I feel like I did that night we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre at Star's house. But seriously, seeing a toddler standing silently on the stairs in the dark is sketchy. I don't care how cute he is in the day in the garden when he's talking and playing boats and shit. Freaky.
I don't want to look behind me in case he's standing there and a grownups voice comes out of his mouth.
AHHHHHHHHHH.

He's Not Sleeping

No he's not no he's not.
He's just walking around up there alone, talking away and trying to figure out how to scar me for life by maiming himself. He was so tired. SOOOO tired. He was sleeping when I left him in there. He was sleeping when I had that super shower and remembered why water pressure is the shit. He was sleeping.
Countdown to go outs.
I haven't been to Hell since before we left for tour.
I pray that Searching for Alexander will welcome me back to the fold with a rousing rendition of "EveryTimeItHurts". It hurts everytime.
All us girls will slay leatherbacks tonight. Hopefully it's cheque day so we can all get some free drinks. Ha ha who'm I kidding? If it were cheque day I'd be buying the drinks.

My heart hurts.

Physically and romantically.

Fuuuuck.

Seriously, guys. I'm tired of this.

But I am not tired of new bathrooms!

Please call my boss and tell her I need to come home. Also, tell people here to stop being so mean to me.

Blogs are no fun when you're not being funny.

I Don't Feel Like Posting Either.

But I will Darcie. I will. I refuse to leave you at work with nothing but flour to coat and protect your sanity.
Although if you fry it up...
I refuse to leave you to reading those other blogs that are so boring beause they do not direct relate to us all the time. You know what I'm talking about.
Like looking through other people's photos, you keep flipping through hoping to see yourself, right?
I swear to God Emily and I are painting the bathroom today. YOU WILL HAVE A NEW BATHROOM. I imagine she won't be up and at them until two hours from now.
In the mean time I will paint my toenails and read comic books for girls I guess. It's almost father's day though, I should really send my mother her birthday gift. Include one for Heather too 'cause her day's coming up. Maybe I'll just gp do that right now so I don't waste today like I did yesterday. Melissa's not working today, right?
Oh yeah and Gerry is a stupid asshole.
More when something's happened.

Yarp.

I don't even feel like posting today. Not even at all.
My stomache hurts and I feel a million pounds heavier than you. How depressing.
Melissa and I might go for breakfast, but I'm feeling really indecisive and it may not amount to much. On second thought, off to Vienna for a greasy breakfast which may or may not contain mysterious pieces of ginger.
Also, I think Jef is mad at me.

Mull It Over

More like Mullet Just Beginning!
I was talking to Darcie on the couch and she wasn't listening but just laughing and laughing. When my story was over I asked her why and she told me that MY MULLET IS WORKING!!!! I learned earlier today that the key to a short/long is not just the longer back, but also the shorter front, which I cleverly achieved with a hair clip. Watch out gentlemen, hearts will break tonight.
In other news JOHN STREET MISSES CHRISTIAN!!!! We will give Ontario two jobs (that's one each) of any variety it would like (options include: blow, hand, rim, foot, et cetera) in exchange for his safe and prompt return.

Developing Fronts

and I'm not talking about adolescent girls.

Jeph and G.Rog are off to steal us our very own patio table, with hardly any lots of prodding. Say goodbye to melancholy and hello to outdoor meals.

Melissa paid me back the ten dollars that I almost forgot she owed me. Ritchin'!

I am formulating a plan for this evening and subsequent morning. It looks like this
:rearrange and admire deck
:smoke
:drink Darcie's last week wine with her
:cook dinner for my lady friend
:trade my $10 for boozes at the LC
:go to Rachael's clothes swap
:swap clothes
:get faced
:take my lady friend home early even if she's drunk and thinks she can make better plans
:sleep hard so we can get up at dawn and do our stretches for the
:YARDmutherfuckinSALE!

On other fronts Mr. John Street had his first ever portrait painted today. He begged me to nail it to his front door but I told him he knew better than that and that we'd have to ask mom and dad when they got home from work. I wasn't really even poised with the nails and hammer when I said it, either.

That silly spellcheck thought G.Rog should be Gooey and Rachael should be Rascal. Actually maybe it's not that silly.

Considering my incredible fear of explosions...

So I've had too much caffeine and I'm at work and the fire alarm has gone off a total of 7 times today directly into my left ear.
All fine and dandy if you don't work in the Most Explosive Building on the harbourfront.
My nerves are shot and suddenly business is booming and I am pulling all my hair out.
Only 40 minutes to go.
p.s. Firemen! (and even a lady! sexy!)