It’s Rayming it’s pouring.

I feel as if I don’t fucking exist right now! And no not in the existential identity-crisis sense it’s just because my phone has finally bit the dust. There’s a term (several I’d imagine) attributed to this new world phenomena of Dude where’s my phone? actually, which makes me smirk because I find phone-dependent people to be flakey hollow-headed twerps in need of constant gratification, attention and connection. It’s a hallmark of mental shit going on and insecurity if you can’t just stand there in a room, in the crowd and meet everyone in the eye but instead tweeting, instagramming and facebooking the night away like yo all of your friends are right here right now but I just have a business to run and calls to make, phone companies to scream at a package to get at. The keys to the city are in my voicemail which gets texted out phonetically to me that I can read but these texts come in to me in spanglish sometimes then a phone number which I never call until I hear the entire voicemail. I fucking HATE talking to people in the day, it’s a drag. If I could communicate by type for forever then I would. I don’t like breaking my creative bubble. Mindus interruptus is too distracting and I will go flit off to do something else, waste 3 hours on twitter, I dunno what the hell I actually do to kill time since Borington actually haha.

I realize that my life right now is totally not working. Commuting is exhausting. I used to come out here ironically for a week at a time every so often when I was living at Adventurehouse. All irony is lost now. It’s not that bad but it’s the boredom that kills you and leads to all other problems. In Toronto if I got this bored I’d go for a run (it’s winter, I don’t run in winter) or just go out and see someone, walk somewhere, get some errands done. My phone being broken is an added buzzkill and you know I have had some nice phone conversations while being out here, I use it more that’s why it’s ‘sploded to shit and my phone bills are higher because again more use now whereas in the city I dunno you just see people more often collectively and then you’re caught up.

I am getting a lot more writing done otherwise than I was before. But it is hard to be inspired by suburbia. But then not. The Pearl Jam thing I watched on tv last night was pretty awesome likewise the Annie Leibovitz on TVO.

I’m beginning to lose track of the days of the week (though we can also blame the month of Christmas for that). The writer/brand ambassador lifestyle outright encourages it. Here I am sitting in a tin can floating in outerspace. I am probably maybe a little bit Jack Nicholson in the Shining style right now but I’m not perturbed about it because I saw Eddie Vedder go crazy on multi-stages and everybody dancing right along with him and that is how a writer should write just write.

You know what it is I’ve let all my normal comforts craves and necessities just fall away. My camera, busted. It is ingrained in me to document so I relied on my awful phone until it too finally could no longer deliver and my phone, my tweet ADD best friend til the end if I can’t document in photos I can in thoughts but now I can’t do that when I’m lying on the couch watching tv. Guys I have hyper-active crazy genius person thoughts that I have to get out, creative compulsions or I just die of boredom. I also can’t instagram party with anyone. I am excluded. I don’t exist. This is the actual case. In my field you have to multi-platform-surf. I barely blog too didja notice that too so, surf? I’m at the beach bro waving to you from shore.

Blogging is a dying art. I am one of the last of the greats and I am barely keeping the dream alive. Kay no, I am keeping the dream alive if that dream is watch me say kinda funny shit all day long every day for as long as I can until maybe someone hires me to write for them some more then yes, AH ah ah ah stayin alive, stayin’ alive.

Long story short I am finally going to get an iphone because it will be two birds one stoner phone/camera sorted out. What the hell do I even spend my money on anyway (restaurants/booze) what a waste I don’t even buy clothes and I just piss it away so anyway yeah time to get my ass in gear this year and by my 30th birthday I expect to be a tanned svelte skeleton beacon of health and beauty.

My hair needs a treatment too while I’m at it with all the things pissing me off presently.

Oh and I am totally sick again so blog delirium post excuse deux. My mom had this cold too already she said she thought she was hungover but nope, it’s a cold. I said the same exact thing too lol. But boo sick wahh. TGIF.

Love ya Shannon!

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Happy New year once again to all. 2013 is a fine-looking number. What will my first article for PBE be about hmm.