Straw Huts Set Ablaze ( Read more... )

I have no reason to leave this place. On the surface everything seems in order. I have an incredibly stressful but otherwise good paying job. I love Ritchelle--I truly do. I like to imagine us getting old together; I don't think I've ever realistically considered such a possibility but it seems right. It seems logical. I'm sick of weaving in ( Read more... )

I've saved 700 in the last week. I have a damn good, yet tiring, job. I've read 3 books in the last three weeks. Ritchelle and I are doing exceedingly, if not frighteningly, well. I'm starting to fill out my financial aid and application paperwork. I'm going to go record some music today. I don't know. I should be really happy but I can't ( Read more... )

I'm pretty sure I'm falling for the sweetest, most gorgeous, intelligent Filipino intern in the world. She goes back to Ottawa in a few months. So the real question is: what the ball fuck am I doing? I guess I was never a prudent person.

After work, Betty and I sat in Cherry Tree and spoke our mind about our current relationships. The first thing I noticed was a Canadian bill hanging on the wall. Out of all the other dollar bills. I'm falling in love and I fucking hate it. It's driving me absolutely out of my mind.

6am. Still awake for no good god damned reason. Ritchelle is coming to my place at 4 in the evening. I'm pretty sure I will still be drunk and exhausted from tonight. That may not go over so well. I don't know why I have this habit of pushing every woman that I consider respectable away. It's so easy to be crass and upfront with women I have ( Read more... )

Ira John "Big Johnny" Holtrop ( Read more... )

Monday, I woke up at 4am which was strange considering the amount of Johnny Walker Black and PBR that I consumed the day before. So I woke up. I took a shower. I decided that I should start exercising every day and did pull ups from the exposed rafters of my ceiling. I mailed off the return receipt from a money order that had been stolen the ( Read more... )

I never really meant anything all those times. I wish that I could forget 23 years.

Two days ago, Byron handed me 65 dollars from across the table and told me meekly, as it were a secret he was withholding from everyone but me, "I think I'm going to propose to that girl that was here the last time you came ( Read more... )