Crossroads

I write this curious as to whether anyone will actually read it, and if they do, what do they think? And then I ask myself why do I write this? I think and I think, and I really can find no definitive answer. This blinking black cursor used intimidate me into thinking that what flows from my brain down through my arms and into my finger tips will all be rubbish, will never be good enough. However I guess my thought process has changed quite a bit in these last few melancholic months.

I used to sit in my room, rapt in the middle of a crossroads trying to figure out where I should go next.

Standing in the center of the road straight in front of me is a defeated old man, bent with age and years of hard work, he is dressed in work boots, his hands are calloused and his eyes are devoid of emotion. The right path is lined with beautiful works of art; I somehow know that they are expertly painted by my own hand. Glimpses of what could be. The path behind me is dark and lined with tree limbs that look like reaching fingers which are scattered with dark birds that take flight as the wind whistles throughout the crooked foliage. That is where I had come from, and that is where I am trying desperately not to return to.

The trail on to my left is actually a hall with magnificent high ceilings full of words that float silently in the air and I feel compelled to see what is down there. My feet move a little apprehensively for I am scared to embrace all of these words, in fear of failing to use them correctly. But then a funny thing happens, my heart begins to beat as it hasn’t beat since I can’t remember when. It beats with happiness and each step that I take becomes sure and confident. And when my feet stop moving and I’m at the end of the hall; before me sits a great oak desk and chair that is tucked underneath it neatly. In the center of the desk lies a stack of paper, beside it, an inkwell and fountain pen. I slide out the chair, sit down and open the little jar. Picking up the pen I dip it into the jet black ink. Holding it over the plain paper, that question arises inside of my head once more. Why do I write this? My newfound courage falters for a moment. However this time I have an answer and I smile, I write this because I must, I write this because I love to write, I write this because the sound of my pencil scribbling in my note book is soothing. I take a deep breath and bend over the paper and I write this.

Once upon a time...

J.

Photo Credit

This old knee aches; a souvenir from simpler days. A talisman that predicts winter’s approach and along with it comes my poet notes. They’ll ride in on snowflakes shoulders one hundred million strong, skirling on gusty spirals under the orange sodium street lights. I gaze and smile as I take in the frozen beauty that is the dead of night during winter time.

My foot finds the bike pedal and my mind flashes images of steaming tea and the nug I have stashed away in my bag before my eyes. I zoom down the steep hill a hundred miles per second, relishing the wind that bites at my face, as I nervously pump the break. Different arrangement s of reds, greens, and blues whip by in beautiful streams that send me on a trip and makes me tighten my grip. At the bottom of the hill I stop, and waiting for the light to turn green I inhale as deep as I can, reaching for all the negative energy that hides inside of these throbbing bones. Exhaling, I watch as it is expelled from my soul on breath coils and is taken away on the wind. I drink in my surroundings and my heart blossoms in the harsh winds and fills with words.

I will write this all down when I get home, I will blow smoke rings and take a few tokes while jotting down those poet notes as Maggie snores beside me. I forget all about the tea as I pass out with my red notebook in my lap.

High Time.

Hello out there to anyone who actually may be reading this right now. I'm back. I didn't really go anywhere I've just been really busy working on drawings for some friends of mine and trying to catch up on my reading, I've been slacking on that lately. I did get inspired to write some poetry yesterday however and now after a couple of hours of pouring over this poem, seeking to find a way to make it even better, I hold my breath and toss it into the wind, so to speak.

Short and sweet; until next time friends.
J.

High.
By Jason Inglis

Inhale—slow, long and deep.
I roll—down amidst the glowing
embers into the depths of my mind
to contemplate with my soul.

Hold it in—tears and burning fire
Acrid smoke rings pop out of my
mouth—hanging idly in
the air, before skirling out
on a mad cork-screw of
someone’s conversation.

Exhale—an ineffable attraction
The song flowing out of the
speakers enchants me into having
faith that—a rose’s beauty
is eternal.

Violins sing as I put
my pencil to this paper;
their song inspires me to
scribble out some masterpiece.
However—I fear this drivel, this
gibberish, this gobbledygook
is all that I could find in
the murky chasm of my
smoke baffled mind.

Hold True

Hey there once again, this is probably going to be a short one due to the time frame I'm working with, I head off to work around five tonight, and in the mean-time I'm trying to get a start on a good copy of this sketch I'm working on. Anyway enough blathering...

Yesterday the skies were filled with threatening clouds, ready to burst at any time. I needed to run to the bank and figured I'd make it there and back before the rain came. However, the rain fell and it fell hard, and instead of looking on the bad side of it for once, closed my eyes and felt the rain fall on my freshly shaven face, feeling as if something was washing away, maybe it was the rest of my old self, is it possible that we shed some sort of our soul's skin? I don't know but when I looked up at the clouds I couldn't help but smile because the sun came out and shone so brightly I couldn't help but smile and laugh-out-loud, this immense joy welled up in my heart and barked out of my mouth.

All the way home from the bank I was moving words around in my head and when I was in my room dripping on the floor my mind exploded onto my note book, and I wrote this poem.


Hold True.
By: Jason Inglis

If the clouds could sing,
what a song they would boom,
they’d roll their music along
the hillside and over the rooftops.

I walk with my head a swivel,
striding breathlessly in awe,
as my eyes feast upon scenic gunmetal
grey clouds mingling with white wisps.

A single drop—dab on
my glasses, accompanied
by some of his fellows,
together they blot out my vision.

Rain dances down in sweet
sheets, cleaning the rust off
this beat down old soul
of mine.

The Sun peeped out from
behind a cloud and smiled
down upon me, He soaked
up the dumb insecurities and
showered me in bliss.

Oh, how I smiled and laughed
because, for a moment,
I felt naught but sheer
joy while looking on the
clouds as they chanted
their song and rain
danced in my hair.

I longed to walk bare-
foot through the grass, however
pressing matters batted the
notion aside.

I pondered about such
beauty in a thunderstorm,
can I find the same
magnificence in what I’m
trying to achieve?

A voice whispered
deep within the wind,
“Hold true to yourself,
you will find your sun
amidst the thunderstorm.”

Sun hid His head beneath
the clouds once more,
I strolled on down the road
with words in my mind.

I'm Socially Retarded

What's up ladies and gentlemen? I pulled up my blog today and I realized that I haven't posted in an extremely long time. And I pondered on what topic should I write about, and then it came to me, the Arise and-motherfuckin-Ruin show, that's what.

I woke up this morning, rolled over onto my left side and my elbow gave a muffled cry of pain, I rubbed at the spot, it's tender, swollen and bruised. Most likely from the mosh pit last night. Yesterday after a full day of working on a story that has been on the edge of my vision lately, I decided to take off to a metal show. My friend's Nick, Mike and Paul of Time The Destroyer were playing a show with Arise and Ruin so I decided to go down a hours early hang around the club with them.

When I got off the bus the first thing I realized was that I love the fucking summer, I love the beautiful heat, I love the refreshing gusts of wind that leave you feeling invigorated, and I love all of the beautiful women. I headed off towards The Shadow and saw nick standing in front of the alley. Got there and said our hello's and then talked for a bit.

When time came to load the band in this drunk dude with a beard and long hair came stumbling over to the truck and trailer. He leaned on the box and asked if we had corral gates in the truck, I pointed out that the size of the truck wouldn't hold corral gates and the stumbled off without a reply.

I ended up needing to walk down to the bank to get some cash for the night. After tucking my money safely away into my wallet I walked out of the piss-smelling bank and saw this woman I used to go to high school with. She looked at me as if she knew me and I said.
"Hey, how are ya doing?"
"Pretty good." she said and walked by.
And I replied with "Pretty good."

It was at that moment that I realized that I am a social retard. I'm awkward around people and now that I realize that, I just have to accept the fact that some crazy shit will end up coming out of my mouth sooner or later and that I should just to go with the flow. I found Mike and shortly after we went for a walk and shared some memories, picked up a coffee from Planet Bean and then met up with some friends, I decided to go for a beer with some more friends and when I made it back to the club people were just hanging out on the streets, some were tuning instruments. The sound of screaming guitars floated up the stairs of the club and so I headed down.

I hung around talking with some friends and Mike asked me if I was going to take pictures, so I said sure and as they were setting up for their set, I was looking for spots for some good shots, there was only a couple of spots that I could snap some photos from. And as Time The Destroyer started to scream, shout and dance around I tired to use my limited eye to take at least a couple of good pictures of the guys. At the end of their set, I was sweating through my Afro Samurai t-shirt. Hugging the guys and feeling good because I managed to take some half decent pictures.

I emerged from behind the speakers, wire and mic-stands, a friend that I hadn't seen in quite some time stood there smiling so big that you just couldn't help but feel good. She had told me earlier that she had brought her new puppy along and that after the set I should check him out. I climbed the steps of The Shadow and the blessed cool night air cooled me down greatly. My friend came from around the corner with her dog, an Australian Sheppard a real cool dog, we all hung out talking excitedly to each other.

Okay, I have to admit this first and off, I've never been to an Arise and Ruin show before, and I've heard some of their music, during a car ride once or twice. But as The Shadow went black, blue lights lit the stage and the band was draped in shadows, they began to play an instrumental song I now know to be called The Aftermath, I fell into a trance, swaying with people around me. And then the music exploded. Bodies flew at one another, pushing, smacking and grunting around in time to the music. I threw my body heedlessly into the fray, knocking people around and helping them up when falling down. At the end of the first song, my gut was on fire and I couldn't breath, I walked out of the mosh pit rubbing my belly and dying of thirst.

I grabbed a glass of water and listened to Ryan Bauchman snarl into the microphone. A friend of mine came running out of the mosh pit, he climbed onto my shoulders and we went running back into the breach, slamming into everyone, we sprawled to the ground and everyone helped us up we went back to moshing out hearts out. At the end of the show, I came out smiling at Nick, shirt a wet rag, my elbow singing a son of pain and a smile on my face, I opted to walk home instead of going to the after party, an as I was walking home I saw a rabbit get his ticket punched by a silver Honda Civic and made the mistake of looking over and seeing the leg twitching. It wasn't the ending of the night I quite hoped for, but it was an ending.

Find out more about Time The Destroyer and Arise and Ruin on their myspace pages.


A few photos I took last night.

Friday the 13th DVD release tomorrow

Well ladies and gentlemen, do you know what today is? Monday yeah but I was really talking about it being the eve of a new Friday the 13th DVD release. Maybe I should explain how deep my love for this slasher movie icon goes, I've been watching the Friday the 13th movies ever since I was a little kid and one of them sent me screaming terrified from my big brother's birthday party. Ever since that moment, I've felt drawn to the mask, it's dark, foreboding and all around bad ass. I've sat up all night with my friend Mark on many occasions watching as Jason Voorhees goes about slashing people to ribbons with his machete. My love has grown so deep for this movie franchise that I have gotten a Jason tattoo that covers half of my shin.

The remake was written by Damion Shannon and Mark Swift and was directed by Marcus Nispel. They must be as big of fans of the franchise as I am because they knocked this movie out of the ball park. It was decently cast, with Jared Padalecki (Supernatural) as Clay Miller and Danielle Panabaker (Mr.Brooks)as Jenna, and Derek Mears (The Hills Have Eyes II) as the man Jason Voorhees.

Some people have been saying that the remake of Friday the 13th and how it really didn't differ from the older films at all. And as an avid fan I'm going to tell you that is bullshit, at first I thought I was being biased and loving the film due to the fact that I grew up watching the franchise. Now, after watching this movie two times in a row, I know that I'm not being biased. Was it the best horror flick ever? Probably not, bit I loved it from beginning to end.

They changed the main reason we all watch these movies, the anti-hero, they changed Jason and made him more terrifying, something that I did not think ever would be possible. They made Voorhees smart, he uses his victims as bait to set up other potential victims, he ties a woman up in a sleeping bag, hangs her over a fucking fire and lets her burn, when her boyfriend sees it he freaks out and runs to her rescue, not seeing a bear trap that Voorhees placed in his path, giant metal teeth slam into his ankle and rip it to shreds. I remember sitting and discussing with my buddy Mark if Jason was supernatural or human, and we decided that he was supernatural because, in the originals he would always walk after his prey and end up in front his victims with some nasty death planned. However in the remake they made him human, he was nimble and fast, there was no walking after victims, he chased them down and killed them. They also addressed the question, "How the fuck can he catch up to his victims so fast?" Well, they gave him underground tunnels so he could access all of Crystal Lake, so yeah I think the remake was fantastic and that it was very different than the originals.

Another thing I loved is how Shannon and Swift actually wrote a scene about Jason finding his hockey mask, for the first few minutes of the film he wore some sort of wrap around his head with an eye hole in it an homage to part two where he wears a potato sack around his head, hiding his disfigured face. I love this because in part three they never really show you how he gets his mask. And you're left wondering, "How did he get that mask?"

Now, tomorrow the Killer Cut comes out on DVD, you would expect special features coming out the asshole on this, however there is only a fifteen minute making of feature and three additional scenes. C'mon you lazy bastards I want to see more of of the special effects, how did you do the scene when the dude gets hammered with an axe through the back, how did you did you film the scene where Jason thrusts his machete through the prick of the movie and lifts him off the ground ripping and tearing, and then throwing him onto the spike of the big tow truck? I want to see all of that shit, why? Maybe because I'm a little bit morbid, or maybe because I've been on a set with wicked special effects once and I'm interested in all of that. I kind of feel ripped off you know? However the Blu-Ray edition is loaded with special features.




So, tomorrow, I suggest you go to your local video store and pick up a copy of the movie. Come home, turn off all the lights, load your bong, or roll a fatty. Pop some corn, crack a beer or Pepsi, do whatever it is you do to enjoy a movie and prepare for some slasher goodness. And remember if you come across a abandoned house in the woods, with a bed that has the name Jason engraved on it, you should probably get the fuck out of Dodge.

Jay.

Zombies? I fuckin' love em!

I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps around the corner, it froze me in my tracks, I've heard that sound before, and as a grimy blood spattered hand groped the wall for something to keep it upright, I took a step backwards. And as a body, skeleton thin, covered in bloody rags turned the corner, my fears were confirmed. I looked into the milky white eyes of the corpse and it cried its low moaning hiss. I took another step back and backed into something, I turned around and a gaping maw lunged at me.

That's when my eyes opened and I was looking at my bedroom ceiling, sleepily I rolled over and I saw the Star Wars and Joker poster on my wall and the fear started to subside. I realized I was dreaming, I rolled out of bed, tripped over my cat and stumbled to the bathroom. And as I was shitting I realized what my next blog should be, this blog is going to be focused on something near and dear to my heart, this blog is going to be about zombies.



I remember watching my very first zombie flick, it was Dawn of the Dead, the Romero version, my buddy Jon and I took the day off school, fine, okay we fucking skipped and went to the video store. He asked me if I had ever seen Dawn of the Dead and I said no, so he said that we have to rent that movie. We did, and went back to my place where my dad was home, we told him some lie about school getting out early. I don't think he believe because the only thing he said was "Don't tell your mother." We watched the movie with him, zombies were feasting on the insides and flesh of living human beings. I was grossed out and intrigued at the same time. That night I dreamed the same dream I've been dreaming for years, Jon and I hanging outside a 7-11, zombies have risen and we kill them all.


I wonder if George Romero told the future with Night of the Living Dead, creating a world corrupted by zombies. Maybe one day your Gods will say fuck it, they will say we gave them a perfectly good world and they fucked it up Let's teach them a lesson.They will create a zombie apocalypse and we will all be fucked.

Zombie movies and will be our training guide, even tho most of you out there should have a copy of Max Brooks' The Zombie Survival Guide. Some of you aren't readers and that's cool, some of you think that we are nerds for reading as much as we do, well when the day comes, and the dead walk the earth, you all will be running to us nerds, seeking sanctuary, and what will we do? Leave you to death and a future of roaming around for eternity? No because we aren't pricks, we'll take you in and take care of you.

The idea that the dead will rise excited the hell out of me, I mean who wouldn't want to get a chance to crack some zombie skull? And for those of you who say that I'm a sicko, "fuck you!" I say it with a smile because you know you all have daydreamed of doing something particularly nasty to a particularly nasty person, well if they were zombies you could do it and call it self defense.


I can see zombies rising after a nuke is launched, where the missile crashes and obliterates everything it touches, the fall out will deform the dead and make them rise, and with each bite the fallout will spread world wide, and there will only be a few left, fighting for their lives, living on different roof tops every couple of months because some jerkoff takes it in his head to be a hero. The zombies will over run us and we will have to flee again, losing a bunch of people in the process. But don't you worry about us nerds, we'll find a way to make it through, and all the chicks will love us. That would be sweet.

Jay.

Writer's Block

I woke up this morning to the bouncing springs of the trampoline yet again, it was eight o'clock in the fucking morning. Kids don't need to be bouncing around on that thing before breakfast do they? Anyway, I rolled out of bed, let the dog out of her crate, put her harness, shuttered at her matching red toe nails that my mom decided to paint the other day and headed out for the morning walk. She took care of her business while I looked on with eyes full of sleep crusties. We headed back home and I filled her bowl up with dog food and sat down in front of the computer, to check e-mails before I actually started my day.

I had planned on writing a lot today, working on this story that has been intriguing me as of late. So when I sat in front of that blank white screen after my shower, the cursor seemed to mock me, You ain't got shit to write, why don't you just give up now, I had no clue what the fuck I was going to write about. I mean I had a general idea but I guess I didn't really think it out that much. Also it is a different type of story, I usually deal with horror or fantasy, this story that has my attention is going in a totally different direction and maybe I'm a little scared to head off that way. So I sat there, and I sat there and I sat there, trying to force something, but to no avail.

There is nothing as frustrating as sitting in front of a blank screen with nothing to say, the skies outside my bedroom window turned dark as did my temper, as I realized that I probably won't get anything done today. So I stalked around the house with my dog at my heels, making tea and a late breakfast. I decided that I will just read for the majority of the day, and who knows maybe something will come out of reading. It usually does inspire.

I've found that you should never really try and write anything unless you have a plan of attack. So sitting in front of your computer willing some sort of magic to come forth usually does not work. So I'll drink my tea, open my mind and fall into a different world where wars of iron are raging and boys are playing kings.

Jay.

SURVIVE

SURVIVE

I tremble as I sit
listening to tortured wailing,
thankful to have found sanctuary
on a rooftop, gazing at the
stars above.

I pray to One as I gaze, that
tomorrow we will be just as lucky,
and find another rooftop to rest our
weary bodies down.

A shuffling wave below,
gnarled crooked hands
reach and claw, desperately seeking
a way to fill their eternally
rumbling stomachs.

I thought I believed in One,
believed One put us here on
earth, for some reason,
some purpose.

However, when I regard
this sea of macabre,
this sea of the dead.

I see that we are alone, and
realize what my purpose is, now
after One forsook us all
and abandoned us to this horror.

My purpose is simple really,
my purpose is to survive.

In The Headlights Of An '87 Buick Excerpt

It was twilight; the sun was a bold orb and washed the neighbourhood in a bright orange. Red, blue and purple clouds blanketed the sky and the shadows of trees wrapped around buildings like fingers, trying to grasp and hold the city in darkness. This would be the perfect time to take her out into the country, he thought. The mid July day had been so hot that it melted candles in the apartment, and it wasn’t going to get any cooler in the evening. Guy Lapointe’s t-shirt clung to the heavy layer of sweat on his back. He looked out of his living room window anxiously, checking his cell phone every five minutes, just in case he didn’t hear it chime and missed a text message from her.

The sweltering living room consisted of a chair that sat by the window with cigarette burns and beer stains on it. There was a couch in the middle of the room, with a fat guy on it; three fans ran at the same time, trying to cool the temperature down to a bearable level. His roommate John sat on the couch, wearing nothing but shorts; he said that it was too hot for a shirt today. John was big, he had a belly of rock and arms of stone, and his chest was covered in hair, as well as shoulders and tufts that grew out of his ears. Guy often told John that he thought the reason he was so hairy was because he was the shunned offspring of some wookie tribe.

John had a white head set glued to his ear and a videogame controller in his hands. On the television screen in front of him he was playing a shooter game and killing anyone that stepped into his scope. Guy saw someone running across the screen and watched as John led the guy with his crosshairs, there was a bang and the guy fell to the ground in a spray of blood.

“Holy shit dude,” He cried.

“Pshhh, that ain’t nothin’,” John said laughing.

It was true; Guy had seen John make some really good shots while sitting in his chair watching as his hairy friend drank Dr. Pepper and ate Cheetos as hey played videogames. John was paid to play videogames; he was part of this team that went out to tournaments where he would stand on a platform covered in neon lights while slaughtering kids from different teams on fifty foot screens.

Guy checked his phone again and John looked over and snorted at him.
“Dude, relax. She said she’d text you before coming over, so she’ll fuckin’ text you.” John said.

“Yeah I know, but she hasn’t texted me all day, I sent her a message this morning and nothing. She always takes forever to respond,” Guy whined.

“Dude,” John said looking at the television set and picking off another unfortunate soul online. “Like I said, relax. You’re acting like a lost little puppy right now.” He got up on his knees and brought his hands to his chest bending them at the wrists, and panted like a dog. “Hey, when are you coming back huh? Huh? Can I come with you? HUH? HUH? Girls don’t want that shit man.”

Guy laughed. How would you know what girls want, all you do is play videogames all day long and smoke weed and drink every night, he thought but would never say.

“Okay, I get it…but I think I’m starting to like her though,” Guy said not able to look his friend in the eye.

“You’ve only been out on one date, and that was to a movie, and she had to go home right after. Dude, I’m going to say it again, relax.” John said. “FUCK ME!” he screamed ass a little kid with shaggy hair somewhere in Edmonton Alberta, picked him off.

*

Often he found his thoughts on the night they first met, He was out with John and a couple of friends at a bar doing a pub quiz, if you answer all the questions right you won a pitcher of beer. As they walked into their drinking hole, a drunken girl staggered by with a pitcher and four pint glasses, she sat at a table with four other girls shrieking laughter. John looked over and tipped a chubby blonde girl a wink.

The bar was a maze of people, and Guy found himself doing crazy dance moves just to get by them all, he came upon a tall guy with tattoos all over his neck and arms, he tried the right and there was a girl with dread locks dancing to Boston’s, More than a feeling as it rolled out of the speakers. He tried the left and a bouncer was standing in front of a drunken dude who large wet stain down the front of his pants. John put a hand on Guy’s shoulder and stood behind the big guy with the tattoos.

He tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey man,” he said patting the big guy on the back, “Mind if we get through?”

The big guy broke into a big smile as soon as he saw that it was John and moved aside and let them through.

They walked out onto the patio; people were crammed into the tables that were sporadically placed around the large patio. However there was one seat left, it was right next to the back door of the patio, the door the bouncers threw people out of every once and awhile. They grabbed a piece of paper and sat down.

Usually they only won a single pitcher of beer a night, but that night was going well, they were three pitchers ahead by the time they decided to leave. John went back to the chubby blonde girl’s house and Guy headed off home.

He was walking down the street, his head swimming and his body vibrating I’m drunk. He thought. No, I’m hammered. “No I jumped into a catapult and hurled myself way past hammered. I’m fucked up,” he said aloud as two girls walked by him giggling. He took his hat off as they passed him and he shouted. “Merry Christmas,”

He didn’t remember the walk being this long, he bobbed and weaved down the sidewalk, stopped and wobbled at the curb, and he made sure there were no cars coming and ran across in a jagged dash. There was a trail that Guy and John used to take home. When he came to the entrance, he stopped scared, he wasn’t scared of monsters or crazy people that might live in there during the night, what he was afraid of was the black that started as the orange of the street light ended. He looked down the path and at the end of the ink black trail he could see a faint orange glow of the street light that waited on the other side of the path, something inside him screamed this is fucking scary dude. He laughed at himself for being childish and he entered the trail and the darkness consumed him.

As he went deeper into the trail the light on the other end grew brighter and brighter, he raised his hand to his face and wiggled his fingers, he felt the tiny tufts of wind against his face but could see nothing. His heart started to quicken, he heard wind blowing and a twig snapping and jumped. Buddy, it was probably just a squirrel or something. To which another replied. Squirrels come out in the day jerk off, not at night!

“Oh man,” he cried and started to pick up his pace, at the halfway point, the trees grew thinner and the moonlight shone brightening the path a little bit. Something in his stomach lurched and his mouth began to fill with iron tasting water and he spat it out as he walked. He placed his hands on his head and tried to will the vomit that threatened to spew forth down. He thought he had it licked, and then he gagged and up came the Kraft Dinner he had for supper, the moonlight bounced off half digested wieners. He puked again, and just when he thought it was over he was sick once more. He stood up and wiped his mouth with forearm and in the middle of the path stood a girl; she stopped in a patch of moonlight with a frown on her face.
“I puked,” he said.

“I saw,” she said, the moon illuminated her golden curls he lips were full and her eyes shined and twinkled silver in the moonlight. He had never seen silver eyes before must be contacts he thought. He felt his knees unhinge and before he knew it he was looking up at her.

“Oh dear, you’re a mess, how far are you from home?” she asked.

“Five mishushts,” he slurred.

She bent over, grabbed him under the arm pit and hoisted him onto his feet; she was surprisingly strong for such a small girl.

“I won the three pitchers of beer tonight,” he said proudly.

“Yeah and you just puked two of em’ up in that ditch over there.”

“My name is Guy,” he said leaning on her shoulder.

“Gertrude,” she said.

“That’s different idn’t it?” he asked

She laughed. “You’re wasted, Guy.”

The rest was a blur, he remembered her standing with him at the front of the apartment, and he remembered hearing the fluttering of a moth’s wings against the street lamp above. And he remembered John’s voice in his head screaming at him to ask for her number, but she he did all that came out was mumbling, “canihasf…number?”

She smiled and reached into her purse and produced a pad of paper and a pen, wrote down her digits, gave them to Guy and told him to call her any time.

Guy examined the number for a couple of seconds, “Well good night,” he said and turned around, opened up the apartment door and slipped inside. He was so drunk that he didn’t even notice the blood on her shirt.

As noisy kids outside my bedroom window jump up and down on an old rusty trampoline, I silently pray that they fall through the glass patio door that they have so smartly placed the trampoline next to. Or that one of their head bounces off the deck that looms above the trampoline. All that seems capable coming out of their mouths are swear words, I mean I swear a lot, but its as if these kids are practicing for some sort of swearing award.

I was able to get my hands on a copy of the move OUTLANDER before it hits the rental shelves this Tuesday, and let me tell you, it is a feast for the eyes. The story is outstanding and they way they mixed the Sci-Fi with Fantasy is enough to make lovers of both genres lust for more. I often found myself wondering if they would attempt to do a prequel for this film, I think they would be able to pull it off amazingly.

Went out last night with my brother and watched STAR TREK, and all the rumors are true, it is fantastic. My brother and I both went into the film never once watching and episode of the old television shows, nor any of the other movies that came out before it. We were both pleasantly surprised that we enjoyed the movie so much, I was more impressd by the fact that Bryan (my brother) liked it as much as he did, as he does not like the Sci-Fi genre at all. I mean the dude hasn't even seen Star Wars for fuck sakes. But he liked this movie a lot.

It seems that summer's sky and heat is upon us these days, I spent the weekend doing these damn training modules rather than basking in the golden rays of sun in back yard. We put the gazebo up, my mom potted some flowers and now we await the first barbecue dinner outside. I spent the rest of my day outside reading A Game Of Thrones, a novel by George R. R. Martin, so much has already happened in this book and I'm not even half way through.

So now I go to watch something and let my mind veg, still hoping that one of them tumbles through that glass patio door they are bouncing next to. Or maybe one of their heads bounce off the deck that looms just above and to the side of the trampoline while I listen to their smart language as they jump on their smartly placed trampoline.

Protesters and a Lady in Scarlet

I woke up to a beautiful morning this morning, the sun was shining and the robin that is tucked away underneath the balcony sitting on her blue eggs was singing her merry song. And people said we were going to get snow, snow on May the 17^th, God I hope not, I’ve seen enough of that flakey white stuff until next year thank you very much.

The last couple of days at work we’ve had a protester, carrying a sign stating that we do not honour agreements; it’s quite funny as the man was leaving out store, after slamming down our customer service telephone rattling the pictures in their frames he stormed out saying

“I’m coming back with a sign!”

To which I replied “Right On!!!”

And he did, he came back with a sign and stood there for three and a half hours until the dark consumed him, and he looked at his watch and stormed off. He was back the next day, I wasn’t there but he was back with his sign and people were almost hitting him with their cars. I hear that a Police officer went up and wrote him a ticket. I mean what this man is protesting about is his own damn fault. He owes a lot of money to the company the company won’t turn his services back on until he’s paid it. I feel bad and not so bad at the same time; because no one should have to take the verbal abuse that we did while trying to help this man out.

On another, brighter note, I went shopping for books yesterday after work. I wanted to pick up two, but ended walking out of Chapters with three. It’s funny; it seems as if my feet just lead me towards the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section when I’m in there. I do love all kinds of books but I’ve been jonesin to read Terry Pratchett ever since I finished Good Omens.

I found his section and picked up The Colour of Magic and then went about looking at the Neil Gaiman books that I don’t have, I ended up grabbing Fragile Things and headed up to the checkout. Now I don’t know if this has ever happened to you, have you ever seen a girl that burns her image into your retinas? I have. As I was walking I noticed this girl she was wearing scarlet plaid and scarlet boots, on her head were white and scarlet headphones, I couldn’t help but stare at her, she had a slender body and holding a book of poetry and when she looked at me she had the deepest brown eyes that I had ever seen.

I mustered up the courage to offer a moronic smile and continued on my way to the check out. As I was standing in line I remembered about George R. R. Martin and I wondered if they had any of his books there, I ended up paying for my books and was on my way out when and found myself in the fantasy section once again, I found the book I was looking for with the assistance of a sales rep and headed back to the cash. And on the way back I looked down the poetry section to see if that girl was still there, she was, and as I walked I stared, once again I couldn’t help it, I looked away nervously just as she looked at me and just avoided crashing into a sales rep.

While waiting in line to pay for my third book of the day I could feel eyes on me, I turned around to see the girl in the scarlet sitting on a foot stool in the corner of the poetry section, staring at me, when I looked at her she focused intently on her poetry book. I screamed at myself to go say hi but then another voice said that I really didn’t have anything interesting to say. And so I left the book store with her image in my brain that haunted my dreams last night. I realize now that her and I had something in common and I should have started off with something like “Who’s your favourite poet?” But no I just smiled like an idiot and walked out of Chapters.

That’s how it goes though, I’m usually really good with people but when a certain type of woman comes along I get all flummoxed and don’t know what to do, it’s as if my tongue swells and the words rearrange themselves from brain to mouth. I wonder if I ever see her again if I will grow a pair and say hullo.

Time for some tea and Terry Prattchett.

I was going through a note book of mine today that I haven't looked since the snow stopped falling and found some writings that I completely forgotten about. I was surprised because I had thought that I hadn't written anything worth while in the winter and while reading this "winter" notebook, I realized that no matter what one writes, even if one thinks it is garbage, to keep it, because when one look upon it with fresh eyes, it may just start to glimmer and take shape.

These entries do not have titles, they are just what they are, I think they are just musing s from my muddled mind back when the winter had me in its grasp.


He looked into its eyes
and saw there, the fiery
pits of hell.

Nambus raged and rose
into the air with a flap
of his leathery torn wings
snarling.

And he was Shaken, to
his very marrow. With a
tightening grasp on his
staff his confidence grew.

Closing his eyes, he
channelled his spirit
into his crooked wooden
staff.


This Dream, this Nightmare

I dream of a man
who feels like a demon
his eyes, full of malice
and hate are locked upon
me.

He stalks me with his
clawed hand, screeching
and grinding along hunks
of jagged metal

He smiles as he spits
the twisted perversions
he wants to inflict upon me.

I trudge on, a boiler
smokes and steams.

I trudge on, a boiler
smokes and steams.

I trudge on, a boiler
smokes and steams.

This dream, this nightmare
becomes real.

A face twisted with evil
and scarred by flame
stops and mocks
"One, two, Freddy's coming
for you.



Now i see, just how
bad it is, everyday
we hear of young men
buying their tickets to
their afterlives, while we
sit back and watch
the minute hand slowly
pass us by. When
will we all stand up
and take action, make
our voices heard? Weren't
we the future at some point?



the wind kept me
up all night, whistling
that low morose
note through out the buildings
I woke up and it greeted
me good morning
as it danced through
out the trees while
i tread lightly on
melting snow morphed
into treacherous ice.

Nature Surrounded by Civilization?

Well I decided to go back into the forest today armed with my camera, I woke up and the first thing that came to my mind was, I need to walk the dog and the second thing was, I should take her to the forest. And as soon as we entered we were greeted by a bird song, I'm not too sure but I believe it was a Chickadee's song.

Entrance to the path, where you forget about civilization for a few moments.

Yesterday I had taken her through the forest where she had a blast sniffing and snorting all the old smells she hadn't sniffed and snorted in quite some time. It has changed quite a bit since I walked her through there last, trees were blown over in the storm a that sent my barbecue cartwheeling into my neighbours yard. You remember the one.

Trees batted down as if they were reeds
of grass.

I really believe that these little paths they have placed sporadically through out my hometown are to be treasured. I often find myself wondering when these too will be felled to make space for our ever growing city. I think they should be kept for children to grow up in and be inspired by.


I tied Maggie up to a branch so that I could get a better angle of this fallen tree, it turns out she didn't like it at first but then she found some new smell and started sniffing around again, and snorting like a little piglet.

Maggie wondering where the hell I was going.

As we were heading out of the little path we could hear Chris Isacc's I want to Fall In Love playing in someone's backyard, and then we came to the exit and were suddenly surrounded by suburbia once more, it came as quite the shock that something so beautiful as nature could be surrounded by something so dull as civilization.

One of my favourtie trees, its actually wrapping its
branch around another tree.

Keg Party and Mother's Day

So here we are, the day after mother's day and I really don't know what to blog about. But I feel as if I should be entering something in here today. Yesterday afternoon I woke up bleary eyed and with a marching band playing what felt like the Notre Dame fight song inside my head.

You see, I found myself at a keg party the previous night after work, I walked down into this tiny basement and could hardly fit down the stair well, there were people talking and laughing, on a couch I saw what I thought was a small horse at first, but then I realized that it was a Great Dane whose name was Mary-Jane. A guy approached me with long hair and cargo shorts and said

"You wanna drink the keg, ten bucks."

So I paid, and ran into some old friends I hadn't seen in quite some time and hung out with them, all in all I only got two drinks from the damn keg, but then they filled the stall the keg was in with bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and once you start drinking the Pabst you're done for. Ended up going downtown armed with four unopened beers jammed into my pockets that I downed on the way to the bars.

At the end of the night I found myself in my old apartment with my old roommates watching Pulp Fiction and the Special Olympics, I think there was twenty seconds watching soft core porn while channel surfing. My old room mate offered to drive me home, as everyone was falling asleep, he hadn't been drinking, when I got home the sun was just coming up and I could hear the first morning songs of the birds.

I passed out in my clothes only to wake up around noon and give my mom a huge hug and kiss. She said I smelled horribly, so I went and showered and got ready for the day.

We all went over to my brother's place and had barbecue and a fantastic time. Where I got made fun of a lot, but that's what my family does, we tease the hell out of each other. So once again
Happy Mother's Day to all the ladies that raise their children with love and compassion.

Myself, Bryan, Baby Lydia, Chewi and Mom
(I love how I'm grimacing more than smiling.)

Spring in my Step.

You may notice that I have a little spring in my step today, that is probably because I just finished writing the first draft for the little novel I've been working on. I came up with the idea for it a couple weeks back, and did an outline and set the goal of writing a chapter a day, well I set my goal and I blew the damn thing up. The novel has ten chapters in it, so I thought that it would be ten days to write it, well I did it in nine, and now I'm thinking of heading off to a local Staples and printing it all off and then putting it away for awhile. You know to let it simmer.

On another note, on Sunday while I was working my entire family seemed to come into the video store and surprise me with my other brother who has been living in Spain for the past couple of months. They were bugging me lovingly like they do when I see this guy walking around and I thought to myself that dude looks like Bryan and it was him, I was so shocked that all that came out of my mouth were the words "What the fuck?" It's good to see him although he has picked up the habit of wearing shoes in the house.

So the past couple of days have been really amazing and I can't wait until I start editing this new work I've been working on. It's the first time I've set a goal in a long time and actually accomplished it. I realize that a lot of authors don't get picked up on their first try and I know that some will say that my story is horrible drivel, but I did work really hard on it and enjoyed the time I spent inside my imagination while my fingers typed the story.

New Blog Site & Stardust

I've switched to Blogger just for the simple reason of witching. I wanted a fresh page, a new beginning. This may be a big one or a short one but, a boring one or an interesting one, I don't know. I'm just checking in before I go to work and saying hello to all the new people that are going to read this.

Last night I tried to watch the movie Stardust, I had finished the novel during the day and picked a copy of the movie up from work, I wanted to see how close it followed the book, sadly I was disappointed by the film. They changed the main characters name for God sakes, it was Tristran in the book and they changed it to Tristan in the movie. I know that some of you may say, "they just took out a "r"!" Well I say that makes an immense difference. In my opinion they should have kept the movie as close to the book as possible. I couldn't even finish watching the movie, maybe it was because of the bad news I received before watching the movie, I don't know. But I feel completely let down.

The book was beautiful, it was a fairy tale for grown-ups and I couldn't put it down, I picked it up yesterday after writing and found myself reading the last 180pgs in two hours, I heard myself telling the characters not to do this and not to do that. And petted my dog Maggie excitedly when Tristran saved the fallen star from the evil witch and whisked them away to the safety of a cloud. So when the movie changed his name to Tristan Thorn instead of Tristran Thorn I wasn't happy, and maybe, because I write a lot and think a lot about things, in the movie before the witch queen turned herelf young again, she was an old hag, but her voice was that of a young Michelle Phipher, couldn't they at least frickin make the lady speak in a crackled voice?

So if you get to chose between the book and the movie, sure the movie would be easier, it would be over in two hours and seven minutes, and sure you would have to read the book, but the best part of the book is getting taken to the village of Wall and then being brought aboard the sky ship that rescues Tristran and Yvaine (the fallen star) from a cloud that would dissapate and send them falling to their deaths. I should hope you would chose the latter.