vancouver day 1
yes guy. i am not a good scene when it comes to air play. i require many a chill tablet and drink. wait, don’t i always? nevermore, no customs to worry about so i didn’t evacuate my bowels. good.
pinker in real life, i found it on some cutesy valentine’s day gift for yer girl site, sorry can’t remember i’ll try and figure it out when i get home.
err maybe it’s time to change my wallpaper. (i did)
no way rip-off dicklickers.
bummin’, time for solitaire and deleting scandalous photos from my documents while dude behind me has a perfectly nice view of it all.
went to grab some ‘zines and in the time that took fil had wolfed half of this club.
there’s our plane oh great it’s raining.
finally. relax the rye was fil’s, we had two rounds and some oprah.
stayin’ on top of things.
guy beside fil, super stoic, so much so thought he was a marshal. fil says they don’t exist in canada. whatever, stoic dudes whom pysche you into thinking they do, EXIST!
guys behind me blabbed their fuckin’ heads off. v annoying.
fabulously flattering lighting.
oh and here we are and look it’s keira and amy down for tyin’ one on.
then we ate pie and played scrabble and charades. i won over amy when i made her laugh choke on her beer once keira was talking about her friend who just graduated from high school and i said YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH PEOPLE IN HIGH SCHOOL? she was about to say the exact same thing. then we realized a good buzz was on the horizon.
wolfed these down too and took turns gawping at the hot tub sausagefest party and got busted for it numerous times.
sass‘ home away from home.
we went to doolin’s and it was um, loud. don’t suburban kids have their own scene to hold court back in the um, suburbs? (don’t get me started on the downstairs area) we inhaled these in a matter of minutes.
shit photo, coulda done with more sour cream.
stay classy, nelson cafe.
starting to feel the j-lag.
more our speed. an artist was removing her work when we came in, been there honey.
kinda in a vortex here.
SURE lets get 1lb wings and a pint for ten bucks, smart idea! i mean we only just ate 3 minutes ago.
wayne meet garth. garth, wayne.
keira does a good drunk.
wait wait i want to be slutty in this one too.
and now i am just being romantic, no fuckin’ b-deal.
thunder stolen again.
oh fuck. i’m fasting the rest of this trip that’s IT.
i think the only thing to have made last nite’s sophistication meter explode off the charts would’ve been to end the evening at the penthouse. oh yeah on our way back to our hotel i saw the hottest prostitute ever and these guys rounded the corner for her. score! in toronto our street walkers aren’t so clean. not that i am an expert on the matter. another toronto/vancouver difference is the forwardedness of your drunk dudes, in toronto if you interact/make eye-contact it is just, it just doesn’t happen. whereas here you guys just won’t shut the fuck up, and you’re really grabby too. way ballsy.
i got the jamaican jerk, pretty much immediately regretted it. drank not even 1/4 of my kokanee, ate like three wings. keira couldn’t deal either.
fil was like it’s too early but mom said no time for bed. so he got a tequila for one. aw.
me right now, why do hotel/vacations give me dreadlocks?