Journal

One time around 1994, Joe and I were at Wendy’s in St. Catharines with, I believe, John Geiger. We were on our way out and loading ourselves into John’s Chevette. I decided I’d had enough of my tasty beverage and as I sat my fat girth down onto the back seat, I discarded my drink cup onto the pavement. Before I could close the door, the people returned to the car parked next to us and the gentleman (who’d obviously seen what I did) looked me square in the eyes and said, “Did they teach you that?” ...

Yeah, um, so there is no longer a Whopper Wednesday. I found that out the hard way. It didn’t stop me from buying a Whopper, but I certainly didn’t enjoy it as much.

Whew. Guess I blacked out there for a few days. So it just occurred to me that it’s Wednesday… Whopper Wednesday (on this wonderful day a Whopper combo can be had for only $4.99!). I’m now a little more alert than earlier as images of a shirtless and lifeless me peeling my sweaty backfat off the couch and wiping wonderful Whopper sauce from my man breasts float around my head. I might stop at Wendy’s to buy a Baconator and force it to watch me consume it’s far tastier cousin. ...

So I took a shit at work today. First stall was no good. Opened the door and saw poop on the floor. “Oops, I guess I wasn’t done” poop which had then been smeared around in a celebratory manner. I love having movements at work and releasing them in the public washrooms. It really gives me a chance to see just how civilized I am when compared to the average track visitor. The sounds coming from these fuckers is awesome. The moans of sheer terror like they’re passing a toaster with a tasty sesame seed bagel in it haunt my nightmares. ...

So last night I found the Wizard’s key. Turned out it was right where the Elf lords told me it would be – in the freezer next to my monster-sized Kit-Kat. I took the key and put it into the lock. The chamber opened and inside I found a large jar of chunky peanut butter, two litres of homo milk and a Bic lighter. Not knowing what to do, I called Ryan Spoar. He suggested I put on my tightest jeans and “head on over,” but I failed to see how that would help so I pretended we had a bad connection and hung up. ...

I rode a horse (briefly) yesterday. I did (not) shit myself. I may just (have to) do it again.

I drove to work yesterday and for the second time I could swear I was right behind an 18 wheeler full of cocoa. It smelled like cocoa and residue on the side of the truck looked like cocoa. I’ve gotta believe it was cocoa. It’s very important to me to think that large quantities of tasty items are transported in such a carefree way because that’s the kind of world I want to live in. ...

A quick note to the Petro Canada woman from Sunday afternoon: Next time I buy something for $1.13 and give you $1.25, realize that I won’t accept just a dime as change. You dig your fat grimy hand into the register, your purse, your fat husband’s asshole, whatever and FIND ME TWO PENNIES! And don’t think for a second that this is over. Next time I need ice and pay for two bags, I’m taking three. That’s right. Suck it. ...

School camping trips were excellent. I remember in grade 6 or so we went tent camping. It was great except for almost losing a finger. The other kids were cutting wood for a massive campfire and I wanted to join in. I taught the teachers a valuable lesson that day – don’t let the fat geek touch a hatchet. Only upside was getting escorted to medical assistance by the blonde whore who I presume was the fuck buddy of one of our grizzled teachers. ...

Thursday I worked. Friday I worked and ate pizza with the nieces and nephew. Today I yelled at the nieces and nephew for being children and spent a large sum of money on horse wear. I now go to bed as I’ll need all my wits about me to plan my next move in this game called life. Your browser does not support the audio element.