Do it

I want to accomplish a couple of things this year. I want to go see Wide Mouth Mason and Barney Bentall. Barney Bentall is playing in Comox on August 4th: does anyone want to go see him with me? It may suck horribly. I don't care. Where the hell is Comox? I'm sure it will be a pot-induced groove fest. Comox. Comoxxxx.... Right. Don't blog after three glasses of wine. What the hell else am I supposed to do on a Friday night? See, this is the reason that I just launch myself into one meaningless, self-imploding relationship after another. At least you have something to do on a Friday night. Just sitting here is excruciating. Ah! I must learn to love it. Learn to love the solitude.
What else, what else. Verbally gave away my couch and kitchen table to my brother today. So when he comes to collect I will have no furniture. I really need to buy some shit. I've got the couch picked out, hopefully I will go order it tomorrow. As for a dining room set, you know what I really want? A chrome and Formica table with some totally 50s Naugahyde chairs. Yep. When you eat breakfast at La Mason de Duder, it will be like eating in an old school diner. Suck it. I can do what I want. Well, not really since Clive Owen STILL isn't returning my calls. Bastard.
What else. Had a really good hair day. Haven't had a good night's sleep in a week. Bought some matching underwear. You know, so I can turn myself on. WTF. Made a tofu stirfry for dinner and it was not just edible: it was good. If I continue to cook meals of such calibre, and keep my trim body, and wear matching underwear, I might just keep me around.
Four more work days then I'm on vacation. I may blog to you from Lasqueti. My blogs will likely be like this: "Hey.... where am I? Holy crap I'm hungry. Where are the friggin' Doritos? Who are you? Where are my pants? God. I'm getting fat. I should go jog. Have I been typing all of this? Weird! Wow, my fingers are really fat. Seriously, who are you? Oh, I see. And where are the Doritos?"