A Single Solitary Flower

Someone just asked me if I had a carebear. Those bears from the 80s cartoon that fought evil with love and caring. Of course I don't but even if I did I wouldn't publicly admit to owning one. There are a few toys that I never owned nor would I own up to owning one if I did (was that as confusing as I intended it to be?). Not that there was anything wrong with playing with these types of toys but they were just so boring. I never owned a She-Ra doll, a Strawberry Shortcake doll, a Cabbage Patch kid, a Barbie, or a Jem doll. What exactly could you do with them? Hug them? Play dress-up with them? How do they even compare with mechanical toys that turn from planes to robots? Or army men who fire tiny projectiles from their weapons? I think it's time the toymakers make something a little more interesting for girls. How about a Karate Barbie that can kick Ken's perverted ass when he tries to cop a cheap feel? Or a She-Ra doll that you can wind-up and make it dance like a raver on E? Tell me you wouldn't buy one. Come on, I dare you!

I've been AWOL for a few weeks. Several reasons for my absence. I had a one week trip to Houston to visit my significant other. Good times. I came back only to find out that my grandfather was ill in the hospital again. He's 80+ years old and used to be a chain smoker. He has a myriad of illnesses related to smoking and a few more related to old age. I promptly made a trip to Allentown, PA to visit him in the hospital. Not good times. That's where I'll be for the next several days. Last reason for my absence is writer's cramp. A little different from writers block in that it's not so much I lack the inspiration to write but everything I've written seems so horridly contrived and lacking that natural flow I look for in my writing. I end up deleting entire novels just because it's so painful to re-read. Hence, writer's cramp. Maybe it was the little break from blogging. Maybe my mind has been on more important matters like my grandfather. Either way there's not much to say about that. I just wanted to explain to the handful of people who actually visit my page and I'll continue to write with hopes the ship will right itself somewhere down the road.

Just a passing thought. Imagine this for an Saturday Night Live skit. "My Lover is a Muslim Fundamentalist!" Ok, maybe that was only amusing to me. So wrong, yet so funny. Kind of like seeing an old lady slip on a banana peel. Really I'm not the devil.

So my trip to Houston was a very nice vacation. Not only because I got to see my girlfriend but also because the last 8 months of school was super stressful. Besides, the girlfriend is extremely comical which is always a good stress relief. I woke up one morning and was watching television in the living room when the gf comes in wearing what seemed to be baggy pink MC Hammer stretch pants. You'll have to imagine this to get the full effect. She pulls the waists up over her shoulder and says, "Look, I'm a giant pink tooth!" I nearly piss my pants in front of her parents.

Another afternoon she invited me into her bedroom to see a collection of hers. Here's the conversation that followed.

gf - “Wanna see my collection?”
me - “What collection?”
gf - “Two is a collection right?”
me - “I suppose.”
gf - “Check out my collection of things that have melted in the car!”

She goes on to show me 2 items; a melted tape, and a melted box of crayons. I swear, you couldn't make this stuff up. I laughed for a good 5 minutes.

On another occasion her parents were at work and we were fooling around in the bedroom (virgin eyes please look away). She reaches the big O and looks deeply in my eyes. I knew what she was going to say next -- "I love you." Or so I thought. She instead smiled and said, "I'm a champion." Quickly the image of the guy who orgasms and says "Touchdown!!" passes through my head. On the unintentional humour scale, this rated a 9. Lucky her parents weren't home because I bursted out laughing and almost rolled off the bed. Like the Rick James song goes. "She's a very special girl. The kind you don't take home to mama."

After the trip to Houston I got the unfortunate news about my grandfather and I drove down with my father to see him in the hospital. I hate hospitals. They're so dreary and listless. Everything is so sterile white. Everyone has a glum face. It's really hard to stay optimistic in a place like that. I walk into my grandfather's room and notice that he's hooked up to a mechanical ventilation machine, a bag of IV fluid, and a pulse monitor. It was terribly surreal.

I last saw him only a year ago and yet I could barely recognize him. His face was puffy from all the IV fluid. He was awake and eating some vegetables, chicken, and rice. I asked him how he was doing. He replied half weezing, "I'm very fatigued." I tell him to finish eating and to rest. He doesn't reply. The remainder of the time I spent wandering the halls while my dad and my uncles spoke to him. It was really difficult seeing him in so much discomfort. At times I found myself on the verge of tears even though I had already known about his illnesses and had convinced myself that there's nothing to be sad about. "He's lived a full life and everyone's time has to come sooner or later", I keep telling myself. But no matter how hard you convince yourself, seeing someone in that condition and in that sort of environment will always break your spirit.

As I was saying goodbye to my grandfather I noticed in the corner of the white sterile room a single pink daisy. I don't know why I didn't notice it before but it seemed so out of place in a setting like this. So bright and full of life. Like a bright lantern in the middle of the woods. For that brief moment things didn't seem so bad. Life didn't seem so fragile. I think the next time I visit him I'll bring him more flowers.

Update forthcoming...bahaha...forthcoming...that's pretty pretentious of me...

Update soon...I'm on hiatus in Houston, Texas...

I can't believe it's not a blog...

Just finished eating toast with butter and strawberry jam. Well, not real butter but "I can't believe it's not butter". I think this has got to be one of the most ingenious ideas ever. Taking something that's widely known as unhealthy but making it less unhealthy for the masses that can't live without it. Imagine if we could create less sinful substitutes for our hedonistic vices! I'd wake up every morning and have "I can't believe it's not bacon and eggs" and wash it down with "I can't believe it's not beer". I'd probably spend the rest of the day watching "I can't believe it's not porn" while smoking "I can't believe it's not weed" though I'd rather have "I can't believe it's not sex" with "I can't believe it's not Jessica Alba".

The idea of living a life uninhibited is really enticing and at times I find myself torn between being my regular conservative self and actually abandoning my principles to join my friends gone wild. If only I had a healthier alternative. I'd like to think that some of my choices come from carefully weighing the risks and consequences and not me being a prude but I could be wrong. Maybe I am living life too carefullly. I know that sometimes it's nice to indulge in the actual sin and not a cheap imitation but where do you draw the line? Am I missing out on life? I wonder.

You know what's ironic? I managed to con 2 people into looking for Sheer stupidity =P.

Anyway...looking for spokesmodels for my new line of pantyhose. Holding auditions for the following...

Sheer Stupidity pantyhose, Sheer Arrogance pantyhose, and Sheer Pompousness pantyhose

The search for Sheer stupidity...

The little things that amuse me. I just spent the better part of half an hour online trying to find a picture of the old Sheer stocking container that looks like an egg. I wanted to alter it and put "Stupidity" underneath "Sheer". I thought it was rather clever. Unfortunately they don't make those containers anymore. It's a shame really. It's really frustrating when you can't find things online. What with the internet being so vast. Ah well. I suppose it was sheer stupidity to be looking for Sheer stupidity in the first place.


Yesterday I was at MAC buying some makeup for a friend's birthday gift and I saw this heavy duty makeup case that looked really neat. The thing had latches and was made of some sort of heavy duty metal (possibly stainless steal). It sort of looked like one of those boxes that magicians saw people in half with except smaller. Anyhow, that's not the reason I thought it was cool. It just looked like something a hollywood makeup artist would carry around on set. So heavy and substantial. I'd imagine you could probably fit your lunch in there. Imagine that! You're getting ready to go out and you whip out this huge box with your makeup in it. After you finish your makeup you magically pull a sandwich from the box!! How cool would that be? You'd be the envy of all your friends.

Kimmie - "How does my eyeliner...munch, munch...look Tina?...munch, munch..."
Tina - "Looks just fine. You wouldn't happen to have some Popeye's chicken in there would you?"
Kimmie - "Damn right...munch, munch...I do!"
Tina - "Hook a sista up!"
Kimmie - *tosses Tina a breast*
Tina - "Drumstick!!...you know I love drumsticks!!"
Kimmie - "My bad."

I wanted my girlfriend to be the envy of her friends but I came to my senses after discovering that the box/case was $250.00 CDN. Also seeing how my girlfriend doesn't wear much makeup I suppose she wouldn't have much use for it. Though she could probably use it as a lunch box. Still quite useful if you ask me.

After I left the mall I went to a birthday bbq for the same girl I was shopping for. Met some nice people. Made lots of smalltalk (which I hate). Ate good food (which I love). Had the runs (again, not too pleasant). Then proceeded to a club to get the birthday girl drunk. Mission accomplished. We had to literally carry the girl out of the club. There's something special about seeing your friends shit-faced on their birthdays. I would imagine this dates back to the prehistoric days when cavemen got together and celebrated their birthdays by making their friends drink woolly mammoth urine and watching them stumble about. Good times.

My cousin who I dragged along to the club was also a bit drunk and I ended up driving his bmw home. You know when you see an Asian guy in a suped up bmw driving around town looking all cool? And you're thinking to yourself, "That guy looks so arrogant and pompous." Well that's what I looked like today driving to and from work. I rolled up the windows and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible but I don't think it worked out. People were looking at me (or at least I felt they were) all over town. I know they were thinking bad thoughts too!! I just wanted to roll down my window and tell them that I didn't have any grey poupon, that this car was a loaner from my cousin, and that I don't even have a car. But then I thought I'd rather look arrogant and pompous than broke and pathetic. Needless to say I just sped home as fast as I could (which in retrospect probably made me look even more pompous).

Now I'm at home and feeling quite bushed. This has been a pretty active weekend for me. With me being in school I really don't get out much and I find that when I do go out I'm dead tired by 11pm. I think I'm gonna cut this entry a bit short and take a nap. Before I go though. Don't bother looking for Sheer stupidity. I couldn't find a picture of the egg anywhere. Apparently they don't make them anymore. My friend Tina has continued the search for me and she has yet to find it as well (apparently Sheer stupidity is contagious). Don't bother looking for it. However if you do find it, let me know. Buh-bye.

I have crossed over to the promise land...

For the longest time I have always hated public washrooms. Just the thought of sharing something so sacred as a toilet with thousands of other people thoroughly disgusts me. At home you share a washroom with family members. People you can trust. Often you're sharing several washrooms with several family members. If there are any accidents in the washroom you can probably narrow it down to a select few people. Take for instance my home. If there is any pee-pee on the seats of the toilets, you could point fingers at either my dad or I. Easier to figure out the culprit of a crime if there's a small handful of suspects. People know they are accountable for their actions and they clean up appropriately.

Not the case with public washrooms. You're sharing toilets with hundreds, maybe thousands of people. People who don't have the same accountability because it isn't their washroom. They know a janitor will clean it up for them. I've walked into thousands of washrooms where people have missed the toilet so badly you would have thought Stevie Wonder had just used it. I apologize to any blind people who may be reading this and feel that they are unjustly singled out as people who lack washroom etiquette. I am merely making a crass analogy to better illustrate my point.

Today was one of those days where I needed to use the washroom badly after a good and bad meal at Burger King (I swear they put laxatives in burgers). I walked into the washroom next to my classroom where there is only 1 potty. Usually very clean. Not so today. Someone had left me a present on the throne. It looked like the guy had diarrhea but changed his mind after the first wave of the runs. I quickly raced out of there waving both arms in the air like I had just seen a ghost. I went down the hall to the next available washroom. Entered, almost certain that this one would be clean. Again only one toilet in the washroom. To my utter dismay, someone was again very kind in leaving me a nice little present in the toilet. This person looked like they had hershey kisses for lunch but wasn't able to digest them. Yummy (no more hershey kisses for me). I quickly left before anyone entered the washroom and thought that was my doing. I ran upstairs to the 3rd washroom in the area. A little apprehensive this time, I walked in like I was about to defuse a landmine. Guess what was waiting for me in the toilet? A landmine!! I wasn't about to diffuse it but I was about to curse like I've never cursed before. "Fuck!?!...Why god??...whyyyyyy?"

Mental Interlude

I began to think back at how many times I have encountered this situation. Never have I encountered 3 straight bathrooms being like this. Men are filthy I tell you. Have you ever seen our washrooms at a club? The sinks are cluttered with paper towels. The toilets have piss all over the seats. Occasionally you see a trail of shit on the seat like the turd was holding onto the edge and couldn't hold on any longer, sliding into the abyss. Filthy I tell you.

Women's bathrooms on the otherhand, I imagine is this immaculate place where the glow of the room nearly blinds your eyes. People have to walk in with shades to keep from going blind. The toilets glimmer like brand new porcelain. Like they have never seen feces in their entire lifetime. After the women finish the waste magically disappears down a beautiful waterfall where it lands in poo-poo heaven. The toilet paper is probably 10-ply and plush like the fur of a newborn polar bear. There is a nice lounge after you finish pooping where people discuss the wonderful experience they just had (after they wash their hands of course). I've always wondered what it would be like to be in the women's washroom.

After unsuccessfully locating a clean toilet anywhere. I really started wondering whether I should just use the women's washroom. It's a friday, and it's late in the afternoon, no one would notice. It took me 10 seconds to decide this. I headed back to the washrooms closest to my classroom. Peering around corners to make sure no one was around. I entered the washroom like I was about to rob a bank. I walked in pretending I was just there to make an innocent deposit. Luckily for me no one was in there. That was when my bubble was somewhat deflated. There was no glow (thank god cuz I forgot my sunglasses). The toilet did look pretty clean but not quite glimmering like new porcelain. There was 3 toilet however!! I suppose since they didn't have any use for urinals they added a few extra toilets. The first one I checked had no poop in it!

I sat down and went about my business with almost an unnatural calm. Even if someone had entered I would be in the safety of my stall. My fortress of solitude! However my calm turned into panic when I remembered that my school had cameras everywhere. I'm in the technology building on campus where they keep millions of dollars worth of equipment. They have security tighter than the pentagon here! After realizing this I did my business as quickly as I possibly could. The toilet paper wasn't 10-ply. Utter disappointment. I quickly wiped my ass and headed towards the door. The toilets are automatic at my school so as soon as you're done they flush. I imagine that they have some sort of sensor that detects the rustling sound of pants being pulled up. The toilet didn't flush this time. I was like, "What the f!#@?". Realizing that I was contributing to my own hatred of public washrooms (I also didn't want to leave any evidence) I was terribly distraught but under the predicament that I was in, being in the women's washroom, I really had no time to sit and consider my other options. Besides, I couldn't be held accountable. I left as fast as I could. Wash my hands? That would be too risky. I headed straight out without even wondering if anyone was out there. Again I was lucky, no one was around. I quickly entered the men's washroom and washed my hands. Before I did however I then noticed a sign on the door. "WASHROOMS WILL BE UNAVAILABLE AUGUST 9TH. THEY WILL BE SERVICED AND TOILETS WILL NOT FLUSH." Wondering why I didn't notice that sign before and surprised that they didn't lock the washrooms I felt like such a moron. I was also actually quite surprised I was even able to find a toilet in the building so clean. Maybe there is something magical about women's washrooms and maybe there IS a magical waterfall that takes women's waste to poo-poo heaven.

My latest idea...

I was thinking of creating a short story with characters based on my own friends. While keeping the true identity of the characters a mystery (which might be very difficult given the fact I'd have to back up personality claims with actions that might be obvious and transparent to the real life characters and friends), I want to do a simple survey to see if my friends could determine which character represented which friend and which character represented themselves. I've long hypothesized that everyone is completely delusional when it comes to themselves and people around them. Who we think we are is influenced by our own conscience and ego among other things. Who we think other's are is often misguided by things, to name a few, such as resentment, passive aggression, and a general failure to understand the meaning behind people's actions. My curiosity is more or less about who's is more deluded. Yourself or the people around you.

Generally the first part of the survey will see if there's a consensus among our peers in terms of whether or not they can relate a certain character with the fleshy real-life personality. In which case it will show either a consistency or inconsistency in perception of a person's personality among peers. I'm hypothesizing that there's a consistency. The second part of the survey will see if the person can identify themselves in the story. In which case this will show a consistency or inconsistency in whether or not the person agrees with my (and others if the first part shows a consensus) perception of them. I'm hypothesizing that most people won't be able to identify themselves in the story (assuming I make the story not-so obvious). This shows that the person has a different perception of who they really are compared to their friend's perceptions.

So what? Even though it might be painfully obvious that our perceptions of ourselves sometimes differ greatly from our friend's perceptions of us, it might not be obvious that our friends may have a consensus in their perception of us and that more often than not this is the case. I'm wondering if I just lost everyone. I'll pretend I didn't.

Now thinking this experiment over again, I don't think I can really prove that one person or a group of people is more deluded than the other in terms of personality characterization. However, it poses a new question for each individual in terms of whether or not they've been misunderstood all these years.

Stay tuned! This is a work in progress.

Note : I understand this may seem somewhat of a simple/unrefined experiment (given my lack of intelligence and time) and maybe there may be no correlation in the results and my conclusions but I think if anything it poses a few more interesting questions, no?

I used to write with with lots of "..." to represent short breaths I might take mentally...end of sentences...commas even...I think I did this for several reasons...1) I didn't have to consider punctuation as much which is always a nice little vacation for my feeble mind...2) It was different...I like different...I long to be different...and yet still revered as the ridiculously goodlooking and charming man that I am...and 3) I hate writing with structure...I like fragmented sentences...talking in the passive tense...starting sentences with "but"...it shows the real me...someone who's not so concerned about the structure of writing but the thought process. However well I meant, I think I've lost credibility in my writing and have made it somewhat taxing for people to read. I guess they're right when they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Starting today I will be retiring my "..." and using regular punctuation in a sad attempt to win your love. I'm not compromising the art so much as realizing that being different sometimes isn't the be-all and do-all. My thought process hasn't changed. My writing hasn't changed. The presentation however is now more or less in the de facto structure that everyone is familiar with. I will however still use lots of fragmented sentences and start sentences with "and" or "but" wherever the hell I please. Maybe one day I'll retire them as well. Does all this really matter?

Surreal compliments of the day -
1) "I would beg to see your arms raised in calcification towards the expanding horizon as the minutemen stand before me with their phallic gums aimed and loaded.. "
2) "Seven donkeys and a concubine cannot compare with the tarnished sheen left in your path of combustion."
3) "You have the vocabulary of an aspidistra in panic."
4) "Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?" (is this really a compliment?)
5) "Your nasal hair speaks volumes concerning the Isle of Wright."

Forget existentialism and realism. I want to be a surrealist. The internet. Good times.

Pipe Dreams

I took the day off of school today. Only missed one class and 2 chapters behind. All things considered that isn't too bad. Motivation this semester has been really hard to come by. Realizing that I'll be done school in 2 short weeks has made me quite lax and lazy. I'm like that long distance runner that is about to approach the finish line but realizes that there is no medal for placing 10th. There isn't even anyone waiting for me at the finish line with a glass of water in hand. Water would be good right now.

I miss having days to myself. Days where I can enjoy my own freedom from the daily grind of school or work. Days when I can wake up without the alarm clock rudely interrupting a lucid dream. A dream about one day possibly owning a large fleet of wing trucks selling wings and pretzels to the good citizens of suburbia. Alarm clocks must hate what they symbolize. The modern day bubble-burster.

On these days I imagine I'd wake up around 10am and make myself a nice breakfast with eggs, sausage, bacon, and a waffle with all the great fruit toppings. Food is one of those finer things in life I've never really had the time to appreciate. I've always been in a hurry to eat. My life is one big take-out or drive-through. It'd be nice to eat breakfast with little regard to time and appointments. Possibly sharing breakfast with someone for a change but then that would be wishful thinking at the pace I'm going. I’m not fond of pre-hatched chickens. Nor do I enjoy counting them.

The rest of the morning and part of the afternoon might be spent at some trendy coffee shop with a patio where I could read my book while sipping on some sort of refreshing alcoholic beverage. Alizé and orange juice come to mind even though I rarely drink it. Malibu and pineapple juice is really good too though some may consider it a "girly drink". I suppose if I was comfortable in my own skin and wasn't so insecure about my own masculinity that wouldn't matter. Let's pretend I am. I'd sip and read, and sip and read. The only thing that would make this more ideal involves a tropical beach and hula girls shaking their hips. But then again I doubt I'd still be reading.

Maybe a nice girl would come by the patio and comment on the book I was reading. We'd start a discussion about the hidden meaning behind why the protagonist in the book wanted to own a pet monkey. I'd proclaim, “The monkey represented his ID and fulfilling his most primitive desire!” Everyone desires a pet monkey, they are either too afraid to admit it or they just don't realize it. The girl would heartily disagree and tell me that the protagonist was just eccentric and was a lonely child who needed companionship that wasn't offered from his siblings Jermaine, LaToya, and Janet. After exhausting all my pretentiousness in the conversation we'd leave the coffee shop hoping we'd bump into one another again for another rivoting discussion about monkeys somewhere in the future.

In the afternoon a walk down Queen Street with my girlfriend to do some cd shopping or clothes shopping would be nice. Yes, I think we'd like that a lot. I don't shop often. A combination of not caring how I look and not having the money to care how I look. It would be sunny and 25 degrees outside with a slight breeze during the day. She'd buy something trendy but unique at some of the boutiques along the way. I'd suggest the more revealing stuff half jokingly and she'd give me an endearing, "I'm not that type of girl" response. I'm glad she's not that type of girl. It's nice to have principles. Even if the principles keep your significant other from being the pervert that he really is. I respect that in a woman.

Along the way we might stop and have a few Toronto hotdogs from some of the sidewalk vendors. Street meat as we call it here in Toronto, is quite scrumptious if you put thoughts of what they’re made of aside. Inevitably I'd spill some mustard on my white t-shirt and end up being self-conscious for the rest of the afternoon. For the sake of keeping it a pleasant afternoon we'll say I wore a yellow shirt and the mustard was hardly noticeable (though the colour of my shirt would be). I would also make it a note not to tell anyone about my accident in fear they might call me "mustard face". Name calling never sat well with me but I suppose I'm somewhat used to it with my group of sardonic friends.

A rousing afternoon of answering "Do these pants make my ass look fat?” would definitely work up my appetite. We’d have to retire to a relaxing evening inside with a home cooked dinner. My girlfriend is a food connoisseur and though I'd be tempted to try some of her gourmet foie gras, I think wings would suit a day like this much better. (Wings have always held a special place in my heart. If you could figuratively open up my heart you’d see my girlfriend in the center, sports just below that, music off to the side somewhere, and wings right next to the clogged artery.) I’m probably the least romantic person on the face of the Earth so I don’t think a candle light dinner and romantic music make for a special night at all. I’d be more inclined to having a normal dinner with good food, maybe the basketball game or buffy the vampire slayer on tv, and a nice conversation. A conversation while the game is on the tube you ask? I know it sounds absurd but let’s just let it go for the sake of delusion.

After dinner and several bottles of wine I’m sure she’d be begging for me to take her…and HARD (as if there was any other way). Likewise with all that wing sauce on her face it would be HARD for me to resist my animal sex urges. Ok, maybe we might not have animal sex per se but I’d be happy with something between passionate human sex and animal in heat sex.

Do you ever feel guilty about liking sex so much? Or about being a little easy? Sex is too often made a moral issue in today’s society and it's not always necessary. It’s not just about hedonistic pleasures but also about self-discovery. Everyone has a right to understand and explore his or her own sexuality. Sexual compatibility is one of many things that determine how successful a marriage/relationship will be. Love after all, is not one-dimensional. It is both physical and emotional. It'd be nice if we could strip the pretenses that come with the word “sex”. Til then, have fun and play safe.

I know this day might not have sounded exciting to everyone but it sure would have been a great day for me. Everyone deserves to have days like this. Life is too often wasted away with work and responsibilities. Take a day off and enjoy yourself!! Tell your boss Shaky told you to. If you end up getting fired, don’t fret. You’ll just have more days like this to enjoy!

I was a short fuse
Burning all the time
You were a complete stranger
Now you are mine

I would like a place I could call my own
Have a conversation on the telephone
Wake up every day that would be a start
I would not complain about my wounded heart