You live with straights who tell you you was king.

hello persons i’m baaaaaaaaaaack.

i have been in a special kind of hell.

hahahaha. oh french. i have never even been in an anglo giant tiger.

this also makes me laugh and reminds me of that comedian guy rippin’ on how french people say labatt blue. bluuuuh-eeeew blewwwwwwwwwwwww.

some noah’s ark themed restaurant. why do they do that, desperation? please come here there’s nothing for miles anyway and as a bonus for you we have some fruit loop bullshit scattered on the property. steve carrel eat your heart out.

what a hippie. i so belong in nature with wildlife. eating it.

kinda shell-shocked. have you ever seen the movie misery? that was my week in some respects. i have learned many valuable lessons. fanaticism being one. ironic that i was away writing my book about internet infamy whilst simultaneously experiencing the power and effect it has. bit scary. when someone is on the cusp of breakdown and you come into their hemisphere they can easily fixate upon you and you become the catalyst for something that has nothing to even do with you.

i was playing possum. keeping to myself what i was really feeling and witnessing so as to keep it as harmonious and non-confrontational as possible as i was there to work and write which i did in spite of all this mental chaos around me. i am also a compassionate person and far too lenient.

have you ever had an intervention for someone who doesn’t deserve any single more airspace out of you ever fucking again and they’re so off their gourd they haven’t any clue it’s an intervention? yeah my week was building up to that. i was isolated in a town i had traveled to work in but someone had a little fantasy in their head about me that didn’t go the way they wanted and that’s when shit got mental. thankfully i wasn’t staying with this person. i was being haunted by them though. harmlessly but still, it was super irritating and unavoidable.

i am extremely pissed off about it still the more i consider it the angrier i become. how dare you take advantage of my solitude you disaster of a human. you made my trip about you. you are a career bullshit artist. unstable and delusional. the only person you’re bullshitting anymore is yourself.

drove through quebec to get to ottawa. was already this far out may as well see the city no?

hey dudes relax you are stressing me out.

can’t stay freaked or mad too long as everywhere you look you see this shit called autumn BLAM! BAM! get the point eh i get it.

gorgeous burnt orange sky the sun feels like it flames hotter this time of year. it is a very animalistic feeling to think about the sun and that we have a burning orb of fire orbiting us then you picture the planet floating. what? floating! far out maaaaaaaaan.

just seems ruder in french eh. no, YOU arret.

beeeeeeeeeeeeautiful sweet beautiful freedom. felt like i was being rescued, i was running away like not without my daughter type shit. rolled a pinner for the road and being driven by a tall NORMAL dark handsome intelligent french man zipping through the countryside like a quebecer.

stopped many times along the way.

always in this point in time i inquire if you like lord of the rings.

i am amazed to see the shadow of a cloud, such a large mass of wonder spread across a mountain.

i think this is what Bono meant when he sang about God’s country.

i love quebec. i want to go for a week to quebec city and stay at the hotel i stayed at in grade eight. or, somewhere better.

forget the name of this place. something moon room? think so.

obnoxious over-sized wine glasses. gauche and slightly outdated. remember i am a cuisenaire. i don’t care what that word means if it’s right or not you know what i mean. i told my french friend i was a food critic. that i am a world life critic but now legitimately a food snot. it does matter what i say about your restaurant. my blog contends.

blonde punk so wasted he was taken with me i could tell in his head he was thinking i could be his nancy. sorry sid i ain’t into punks cos they’re cheap and lead oppressive lives while i spend and live like i am going to die tomorrow so really, who’s the actual punk here? me. i’m a baller.

plaid jacket was $15. argued with the girl for like an hour (she kept coming back to me for more) it’s the principle. this piece is not worth 15 bucks. ten yes but now looking at it i regret not buying it which they know and that’s how people do stupid things like buy fifteen dollar jackets at a clothing hipster swap in some bar while you’re getting down to some serious drinking.

should’ve done it. oh well.

scored some hash just as i ran all out of weed. the nite got awesomer.

i ate and owned and drank this city.

i don’t understand that sign, business open as usual? yeah thanks i can see that.

i love to see french writing everywhere i look. it is more sincere.

best indian food ever didn’t make me feel bloated or lethargic afterward. why is that? no preservatives or something?