I don’t even know where to begin…
I just returned from my Atlantic Canada road trip and it was by far the most fun I’ve had in any weekend in Canada that I can remember. Maybe it was because I’m in love, or constantly amazed by stereotypes and trivia, but I loved every single second. I tried renting a puppy for my g/f while were there for our 1 year, but that’s not allowed apparently, so I settled on dick in a box…which also didn’t work
I guess I’ll break it down by city.
Fredericton New Brunswick:
A city of this size has no right to be so much fun. After 10 hours in a car of punch, fuck, marry, dancing, and Feist getting to Freddy was a God send. There were two vans, the boys and a girls van…I got stuck driving the girls. Scott and I headed to Matty’s house to hook up with some locals and pounded a few beers before heading to Dolan’s. What a fucking atmosphere. Everyone in the town was there and it was such an eclectic crowd. The band ruled and people actually bothered to rock out rather than just being stuck up and waiting for the DJ’s set. Everyone was amazing and beautiful, smiles on every face with a pleasant and welcoming body language. I love that city. Pour Some Sugar on Me Freddy.
Halifax Nova Scotia:Following on the heels of Fredericton, Halifax didn’t disappoint. There’s so much to say, the $1 power hour that lasted all night at Peddler’s, our pub crawl vs. the bachelor party, Bubbles from the Trailer Park Boys…Every inch of that city was amazing. Looking out for friends and having their bodies fall apart in you hands, the candid conversations outside the club that left me tingling and hopeful, feline eyes and crinkled noses that made my head spin in nervousness. And of course my girlfriend; her longsuffering, her grace, her infuriatingly powerful and detailed mind. I think I spent hours playing with her fingers and watching the sun glow off her cheeks.
The steep inclines burned our calves, the sun tortured my bald head, and the salty sea air off the harbour disgusted and enticed me at the same time. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a great time in a Canadian city as I did in Halifax.
Saint John New BrunswickOn just a quick pass through after a series of wrong turns left us hours out of our way but it was well worth it. Picturesque fulfillment of east coast imagery that I longed for. Brightly coloured wooden house clinging to cliff sides seemingly floating on the mist. White sales swaying in temperamental waters. I want to go back so bad; perhaps the fact that it was an accident that we stumbled upon this little gem was symbolic of my luck this weekend.
The trip included stops in innumerable unnamed and unassuming communities that dotted Highway 1. Another romantic and tumultuous voyage; just the way I like it. The threat of moose (aim for the stomach isn’t the most comforting thing I’ve ever heard), pushing your body to its limit just because you don’t want to miss a single second. I was sick as a dog, hung over and otherwise, but I still couldn’t be happier.
a year to the date
So I’m off to Nova Scotia tomorrow. It will be exactly a year since I’ve been there. I was looking for the agenda of the conference that I’m going to online and found my travel blog from last year. Here are some snippets, and since it will also be one year of me and my g/f first hooking up I’ll preface it in those terms…
Before arriving, I had only met her once, and didn’t really like her, she had a stupid leather jacket and I was grumpy….
Day two
Nic-fitting and sleep deprived I'm back at the wheel. How I long for th spacious luxury of an SUV. G-Unit's been on the road now for about 12 hrs and riding in a midsize is our way of ratifying Kyoto in our own heart's and spine's. We're all pretty sore. Jess and Sarah in the back with Zach sleeping next to me. He's really the hero of this story. He took the midnite to six am shift. Doing it for Gerard all night long sure is tiring.
I bit the inside of my cheek and its all swollen now. So every bump we go over made me chomp down on it waking me countless times throughout the night. I awoke to New Brunswick for the first time in my life. Its open mines and quarries left geometric rock formations protruding at rude angles towards the sky. Its dozens of dark lakes, all with fog rising slowly from the water made for a spooky look. Its been a full half hour and I haven't seen a single building save for the gas station that signalled it was my turn to drive again.
I washed my face in the gas station and now my face is all sticky and gross. Arcade Fire lifts our spirits though, and the sun comes out to expose mile upon mile of beautiful forest. This is the furthest east I've ever gone in Canada and its pretty amazing, a few short hours later and I'm exploring new terrain.
Passed through Moncton on the highway, couldn't see much, missed the wonder of Magnetic Hill. On our way to Sackville where Jess goes to school. Stopped at her house where she lives durring the school year. Met her room mate Shamus, he made me breakfast and there's a couch a beautiful, beautiful couch....
The first night we hooked up, it was so rainy, and there was an umbrella….we shared it, we got over our dislike for each other. She’s was actually wearing the same shirt lastnight that she did that night. I remember her eyes and how creepy they looked, the bright pink of her lips and her collar bone and the weird angles she cocked her head at. She was confident and I was a prick. I made her blush, and apparently that was rare.
Last night was bonkers...
Went to the racetrack didn't place any bets. I saw too many people licking their wounds from backing the wrong horse. “Daddy Daddy Daddy” sure disapointed a lot of people.
Went to the Brison hospitality suite last night, some one gave me his cell number and I didn't believe it was legit. So I called it and I watched him hop up and run into the hall to take the call. I felt bad, I made this dude leave his own party. I just said wrong number and hung up. Oops! Sorry Scott my bad.
Woke up this morning and my pants were soaked. I was pretty worried like “ah man what did I do last night?” Walking to breakfast I realized it rained. Let's hope that's water...
Missed breakfast, damn time change!
Moments before it all went down, I wasn’t expecting it, I had actually forgotten that we flirted. My head was spinning, my eyes were blurry. She relives convo’s we had that night that I don’t even remember but am still impressed at my suavness/sexual harrasness.
On the way to the bar. Wearing mascara and looking fly. Robbie's sister meghan put it on but there was a little problem with the bottom lashes. They're tricky but still looking lusheous! Going to peakes. Should be a good time. Had a Dion and GFK hospitality suite good times. I love pirates, ask anyone who knows me, and Dion had a privateer theme. I fit right in Arrg!
The next day, we shared a smoke around the corner from the dorm at the fire exit where I pissed myself the night before. I tried to play it cool, I was thinking about what she might be thinking. I wanted to be cool and retain the reputation that got me here in the first place. But I also wanted to be sweet and tender. I wanted to be a considerate lover and ask her about her needs, her hand dangeled by her side and I wanted to touch her slender fingers. She squinted from the sun and the hangover and I couldn’t place her. I couldn’t read what was happening. I hadn’t eaten and my berry was fucked from the rain the night before, I had to go to Mcdonalds. I left with out taking her order.
Brackley Beach
Just played a great game of soccer. Maybe 8 on 8 but a pretty good crowd. Me, Perry and Alex couldn't connect on anything so I never scored. My buddy Chike aint here, he usually finishes for me. Mark Holland played, he's pretty competative but atleast he didn't rough me up the way he did when we played basketball at his house.
Sitting on the beach right now and its real hot. The Bob Rae ppl brought some popsicles but they're all melted now and I'm gross and sticky. We're all here, some playing volleyball, others throwing jellyfish at each other. Perry got hit in the arm and its stinging now. I offered to pee on him but he politely declined.
So I'm working on my tan right now, trying to get honey dipped.
I saw her there, I thought about how good she looked in her red swin suit. I knew she would read the above post so I didn’t say anything, I didn’t mention her. I purposly ignored her. But in reality I listened, I listened to her self involved stories about dress code and Poland. I rubbed thick sunscreen into my buddy’s girlfriend and watched her confidence. Her ability to bend over infront of a group of horny boys and brush sand from her legs or stick her chest out as she shook the sea water from her hair and pulled at tangles.
Good Bye P.E.I.
It was a good few day on the islands. It took a bit for me to adjust, their slow drivin, their $13 smokes, but I really liked it- we all did. In the car we stared out at the bluest blues and the greenest greens, every shade a brilliant contrast. Rust coulored dirt and puddles of tomato soup, an artists dream. Our hands out the window we played with the wind between our finger tips, the sun stung our skin but all was well, even country music sounded good right then.
We stood on the beach eyes squinting into the ocean wind, giant sand dunes stood behind us. Huge mounds covered in long grass. Made for a pretty crazy sight. Most hills with grass are generally soft rolling slopes, but these jutted up and down at impossible angles. The wind cutting akwards edges through them, all the while the long grass waving around in the tempermental wind.
There white churches everywhere, in the middle of nowhere, and although they’re not large I wonder if they have the local poulation sufficient to fill the pews each sunday. I looked at the map on the way to Cavendish, apparently it doesn't take much to get on the map in PEI. North and South Grenville, St Annes, all tiny places, not even a store just a sign welcoming you. Literally that's all. A small island that gives a lot of credit and celebrates and acknowledges the doings of the local people. And rewards them with there name in print next to every other collection of 5 houses.
Off to halifax, Zach at the wheel. Brian Clow has joined us, we convinced him to change his flight so he can come to Scott Brisons bbq. I wish my girls that I live and work with are here. They'd love it, they wanted to come, but alas could not. Good for Dells, she spent the last week on the beach in hilton head or something. At least I have Matt Eason, he's all the fun of Mary Rose, only he can drink more-thanks for the help btw!
Going to Scott’s in Nova Scotia, didn’t know that I would see her there. I had already gotten emails from buddys across the contry congradulating me. She was that big of a deal. She got emails within minutes of leaving the bar with me scolding her. She took a chance, I took a chance. That was it we were done. I was sure of it.
East Coast Privateers
When I last left you I think I was just touching down in New Brunswich off the bridge. A lot has happened since. We cut through NB and hit up Sackville again. Sat at the bridge street cafe. Drank lemonade and lattes on the patio. I was happy to discover that if you live there your called a “ Sackvillian”. Wish Bradford had a cooler name...
From there we headed to Nova Scotia. We got the invite to go to Brisons bbq, so we booted it trying to make it in time. I was driving and it was the most challenging road. I loved it I wish I had a porsche or a lambo, the palms of my hands hurt from the hairpins and twists. It was a lot of fun.
I'm from the country and I'm familiar with rural towns, but here is something different. No real towns to speak of, just county homes, one after the other, with decent sized plots, but placed regularily along the road. No long intervals between settlements, just one long line with no particular congregation. In PEI there was little villages dotting the countryside with distance between them, here you could argue its one long neighbourhood. If you threw a blocparty people would have to drive 2 hours to attend.
Drove along the bay of fundy, its waters were a deep red, I guess that's what it looked like when the Nile was turned to blood. We stopped off in Shubenacadie for a break, met a russian dude who was working there for the summer. This guy must have really felt out of place, but he had a kick ass job as a white water rafting instructor.
Getting tired of blogging, my eyes are a bit fuzzy. Tell you about Scott's later...
We hooked up that night, I didn’t have a berry so we passed sexy messages back on forth on hers. I though her cowboy hat was stupid, I didn’t know she was from the west. Her friends teased me, I was out of place and outnumbered so I took it, but really I had little respect for her. It was that damn hat. Pushed up against the white boards of the house I held her, we kissed and were interupted. We climbed rickety stairs and found a bedroom. We stood for a long time, the hat was off. Her lips still pouted quizically. Barrett’s Privateers kept ringing in my head. The light was bright and fell harsly on her features. We both hadn’t showered, the blanket was course and we were facing south. Again I saw her collar bone, slighlty wasted her hair smelt like the camp fire.
I passed out, I didn’t see her the next morning. I thought that was that. I was off to Halifax to visit my buddy. It wasn’t until I was back in a hot and steamy Toronto that I heard from her again. I knew I had broken hearts when I was away, I brushed it all off, even her. Shadows in my door way ridiculed me and I stared out the window like I normally do waiting for her to arrive.
I spent this weekend doing nothing. Like absolutely nothing. I went to the beach but didn’t read. I lay in bed and didn’t think. I walked up a street wondering where I was going and why I was walking so slowly. People must have looked at me like I was lost. Two post ago I begged for this. I quoted The Weakerthans and acted like I was over taxed or too poetic or something. It was my first weekend off probably ever; or at least in a year and a half. No travel, no phone calls, no high stakes games of the prisoners’ dilemma.
I’m off to Halifax in a few days, which also means I’ll be in Quebec and New Brunswick, with an option on P.E.I. It’s been a year since I been out east, and I’m looking forward to it, just gotta scramble for the cash first. Then after that I’m back to Saskatchewan, back to the dusty streets and dead grass, back to the smouldering hot asphalt and devilish sun. Back to, back to, back to lying to myself that I actually like that lifestyle. Like I have the time to search my pockets for hours looking for an unaccounted piece of temperament that allows me to relax.
A Value Added Service
So I talked to my landlord last night and he told me about a problem he was having with a tenant upstairs. He’s had a pretty rough ride since buying the house, on his first day he found a baby goat wearing a pink t-shirt in a recycling bin in the basement. But there’s a girl upstairs who’s being evicted for selling crack and the other night one of her friends came over, the tenant wasn’t home so her friend went door to door asking if she could borrow someone’s bed for half an hour to turn a trick so she could afford the crack.
So this was pretty wild to hear of course and by now I’m sure you all know my fascination with prostitutes (so far I’ve only studied them at a distance) and then it hit me. The reason for my peculiar fascination is the concept of consuming the flesh of another human minus any emotional attachment or intellectual exchange. This is zombie behaviour for the living, the ability to feast and gorge yourself on the body without being undead; a parasitic relationship with mutual benefit for both parties. Moral issues or social justice aside, I thought about the attachment of a monetary value on the human body. Arguably a more profitable relationship would emerge from having a vested interest in the other persons psyche rather than just their frame, and I wondered what I could charge people for my witty banter and clever insight. I guess that’s what physiologists do, which is gross to think about cuz my mom’s one.
Western Road Trip
After pushing over 2000 kilometres in the PT Cruiser rental across Manitoba and Saskatchewan I sure have a lot to share. The feel of canola on your naked thighs or the dusty air that stings your eyes and makes you squint into a hazy distance that never ends. Driving for hour with the only variation being a sun that crosses from your rear-view mirror over your shoulder and on in front of you.
We went to the largest country jamboree in the world in a town called Craven in a valley outside of Regina. We sat outside a clapboard beer store and sold liquor out of our trunk trying to ditch our booze before hopping on a jet. We watched dust rise across the valley as pickup trucks raced across the horizon towards Birsy. We herded stray cows as they wandered the streets of Central Butte and watched pigs clamour on top of each other in their sweltering trailer on the ferry we used to cross a from Lucky Lake .
At the end of it all I wished I was a rancher. I wished I had the time to study a distant and endless sky. I wish I was left to rust out in the rain like so many abandoned school buses or bleach in the sun like buffalo skulls. When you move so fast there’s no time for any of that, 9-5’s then 5-10’s rub the rust right of you.
Take solace that the soulless get so less than you
So sitting on a patio on Sparks Street downtown I talked to a fellow blogger and he was trying to get a feel for what I do. I gave him the low down about ghosts as spectres disguised as hookah smoke lingered above our heads. He asked if I posted pictures of naked ghosts which spurred a curious question. The answer of course is no, because we all know photographic technology isn’t advanced enough yet to capture the likeness of ghosts. Silly.
Are ghosts ever really clothed? They may appear to be draped in old and outdated clothes complete with shackles and 18th century monocles or pantaloons. But their clothes are immaterial; really all that remains is their souls. An exposed glimpse of what’s left of that person after all physical elements are stripped away. We spend so much time throughout our lives concealing ourselves or our feelings and hardening ourselves against a judgmental world that it is difficult to really get a grasp on the contents of ones soul. And it is only when the intangible residue of a human is before us that we can truly see it. And the sad thing is, that’s what frightens people.
Auto-sluts...more beneath their thighs
So I just saw Transformers and was blown the fuck away. It’s by far the most stunning visual I’ve ever seen. Apparently there’s something like 32 hours of CGI labour that went into every frame x’s 24 frames per second…so wild. Also mega political and anti government, pretty good especially considering the battle of virtue that’s being waged on our behalf by alien robots.
Also exciting is the new invasion of the body snatchers with Nicole Kidman. She’s really becoming typecast for the psychological zombie roles a la “The Stepford Wives”. But I guess you’re bound to become vapid and empty after being married to Tom Cruise for so long.
Beings that’s are devoid of compassion are alright if they have a soft alabaster exoskeleton. There nothing like the tender embrace of a robot, it’s just too bad that my testicles are too delicate for their vice like pincers….
Yuck
So I’m starting to wonder about tearing up my donor card. Yes I’d love to help where I can, and what the hell am I gonna’ do with my organs while I’m dead, but still something seems so creepy….
Consumption can take many forms, what’s the difference between ingesting human tissue and assimilating it? I guess that’s one of the scariest things about zombies, as your eaten, even if you don’t become reanimated yourself , you become part of the initial zombie that ate you. You have nurtured it and allowed for the continuation of its existence through your vitamin enriched flesh. Nobody wants that.
So if another human was to assimilate my liver or kidney they would be in a sense consuming me at least in part. That’s why there’s so many zombies in China, because the communist government keeps harvesting the organs of Falun Dong disciples. That’s why everyone walks around with their calm Buddhist demeanour, they’re actually already dead.
a year in the life of El Chupacabras
Last week marked one full year of Ghosts and Admissions. So to celebrate, I’ve compiled some of my fav quotes from entries throughout the year.
El Chupacabras on Ghosts…
June 27, 2006
“Also, they aren’t very organized. They probably died prior to the industrial revolution, or at least before the 1st labor day, so they perished before becoming unionized. I say this because usually ghosts are those dudes who died in pain or were crazy, and after that point there have been significant improvement in both palliative care and the treatment of the mentally ill.”
El Chupacabras Zombies…
Aug 30, 2006
"Hey man, 'aint nobody come between me and my zesty Italian!" The zombie, non receptive to the urgency of my demand simply asked "You gonna’ back that ass up, or should I push up on it?"
Aug 8, 2006
“I guess their arrogance comes from the fact that they speak Latin. Ooohh big deal you dead bastards! Of course you speak Latin, that’s what everyone speaks when they’re dead!”
April 24th
“If you’re a connectivist you will aim for the brain stem which controls gross motor skills guided by hardwired networks in their rotting brain. If you’re a computationalist you will fire into their frontal lobes.”
Oct 10, 2006
“They demonstrated advanced cognitive behaviour in the recognition of a abstract idea, so why would they not posses the ability to recognize a value system pertaining to a tangible reality, another human.”
El Chupacabras on the nature of Hell…
Sept 19
“The problem was that ‘good’ currently did not exist in Hell, so no amount of "good" was available to bestow upon evil souls thus ensuring their attendance in Hell. So the net effect would be good people coming to Hell by default due to the contradictory definitions contained with in the legal codes of Heaven and Hell.”
Sept 15, 2006
Lethargy and Pestilence also took offence to the flagrant abuse of political appointments, however lacked the support to muster a proper opposition. As Lethargy slept, Pestilence was avoided like the plague by those in attendance, and their amendment to introduce caucus votes on appointment died on the floor
El Chupacabras on Aliens…
Dec 11, 2006
"Love supplements the human search for value with a capacity for bestowing it gratuitously. See you love something then attach value to it because you love it. We would much rather you 'love' something that has previously been deemed valuable, such as our souls, and treated them accordingly."
Dec 10th,
I supposed the saddest things from your inferior point of view is that in doing so you are also destroying the one that you love.""So aliens don't love? You focus solely on yourselves and the continuation of your own existence?""Yes, how else would we become superior beings."
El Chupacabras on Monsters at large
March 14, 2004
“I am happy that some notable and influential monsters have come to my side in support of my position”
Aug 17, 2006
“…one of the most enduring scourges on the Mexican population. Zapatistas and dysentery do not have the combined number of kills as this legendary creature.”
