excuse me do you want to be in my gang except we’re a good gang and we walk around complimenting people and if we see people being abrasive to one another we hug them and tell them to buy a puppy and we do sign language love song performances in variety stores and when the song is over we pose like how i am in the picture oh and we walk around humming and when we see broken glass we put it in our pockets until we find a proper disposal recepticle and we have charity jump rope contests and we only wear happy colors like pink and green and yellow and the only rule is to smile all of the time and our gang name is the dreamy dreamers and then it changes to something else every other day because we don’t like to be pigeon-holed.
i fell down in the snow ten times. i dragged aimee across the floor on her knees because a romantic song came on and we were solid gold dancers of the nite and then i did it again and fil made a video of it and watching it now i can’t figure out what was suppose to be so damn funny about dragging her across the floor on her knees.
oh and i like the snake now. i didn’t like him before but now i do and i was fighting over him with fil and then finally i said something to him like keep your snake boyfriend then i don’t care but then i’d try and take the snake back so i could put its head in my mouth. his name is Nero. i don’t know why.
aimee’s slippers made my feet sweat and when i took them off my feet smelled so derek gave me gold bond powder as an insult but i put it on my feet anyway and it worked.
scott “the jesus” is awesome and talks really loud and says like a lot and he has fucked up hair and i asked him if he was going to be growing it down to his ass again and he said no he’ll keep it where it is and i said well i intend to grow my hair as long as the alphabet. i got blog-spotted by elizabeth and she came over and was all excited and i was flattered but also surprised. one guy in her posse said he was on morphine when i asked him to watch my jacket and our spot. scott was telling us a story about this guy’s apartment that has dog shit all over the carpet and how when he got there the dog immediately pissed on the carpet and a couple over his shoulder kept looking back at him talking about shit because they were trying to enjoy their meal and his shit story just kept going and going.
this one kid came over to try and have a pocket of quiet space for his cell phone call but then he left because scott was ten times louder than the rest of the bar.
scott also doesn’t have a microwave and one time his mum came home with a box that looked like a microwave could be inside of it and scott is all YAH MICROWAVE and his mum goes i got us a breadmaker and scott’s head which was just about to explode with joy, exploded with disapointment instead and then he went on to explain how the home made loaves are tiny and gross and what a waste a breadmaker is because store-bought bread is at least guaranteed to be good and then he went on a rant going what, you can’t afford store bread?
melissa also thought that scott was ward and kept asking if he was ward. haha.
mark is starving himself and it’s driving thom and i crazy. he’s been doing it since christmas and says he’ll finish around may. he’s totally emaciated and thirty pounds lighter and he wasn’t even fat to begin with. he’s exercising his inner-strength and zen-like whatever and when i talk to him about it and express my frustration he in-turn gets frustrated because he wanted us to be supportive of him. supportive? are you fucking kidding me? so i haven’t been hanging with him much because it’s hard to sit there looking at a skeleton who is stubborn and won’t get help and is starving himself for no fucking reason and also i feel like a house around him so fuck that noise.
saw apostle of hustle at the drake last nite and it was, i’d say, probably the best show of all the hipster shows i have experienced. members of broken social scene, metric, and stars were also there up at the front near to where we were sitting and also performed with aoh. beside me was this nerdy guy who was really into the music and was slamming his legs up and down to the beat and it made my beer jiggle all over my pants. K-OS was there and smashed his drink to the floor by accident. i felt bad for the opening guy because this gaggle of fat chicks were blabbing the entire time as loud as they possibly could through his entire set. i felt a psychotic rage coming on.
emily haines touched fil’s leg when she was trying to get by us to the front and fil swooooooned. i had a crush on the percussions chick when she was playing those clay maraccas and dancing. apostle of hustle is canada’s version of the flaming lips except they don’t have weird costumes, yet.
