(A Random Post)

Going Through The Motions

Blue – Seatbelts ft. Mai Yamane

I honestly don’t believe that being prepared for any disappointment is a good thing. Where does it end? You lose your job. Hey, no problem. You get evicted. It happens. Bank account gets cleaned out by some hacker. You’ll live. Crackhead shivs you in yo’ anus. No biggie. Oh wait, you’re dead. See what I’m saying? Eventually you have to at least flinch, otherwise you won’t even recognize the fact that you’re taking a beating. People say I have broad shoulders, but I’m pretty sure that I’m just shrugging all the time.

I’ve become seemingly immune to girl-related trauma. Take my meeting with Elena for example. I’d been building that up for months. One three hour get-together later and the whole thing was deader than dead. It bothered me for about five minutes. At first I thought, “Great, try and act like a man for once!”

Today was another incident that would normally send me into a spiral of misery and Korean BBQ. Alyssa, the cute girl with weird eyes and bad teeth from my British Fiction lectures has apparently hooked up with this big white dude in the class. After my initial bout of “big white dude”-envy and knocking my head against the wall for not making a move before, I again stopped worrying about it.

Now you might think that this is great. Alex is learning to not overreact over every little thing. Yeah, that’s alright. Even though as you all know, I LOVE overreacting over stupid crap. What’s troubling is that I’m starting to develop a laissez-faire attitude towards the whole romance issue. And not in the good “Ah, who cares about girls right now?” way, but in that “I’d like a girlfriend but I’m too lazy to get off the couch” way. I don’t know. Maybe this is all for the better.


April 11, Canadian Idol comes to Toronto. I’m going for it. You’ve been warned.


New rule: No eating poutine from the truck next to Sid Smith if I have class later that day. That stuff is just poison. Delicious poison. I could barely breathe during my next class. During the break, I told my friend Heather…I haven’t really told you about my friend Heather have I?. Well, let me see, where do I start? She’s an actress. Here’s her FRIGGIN’ IMDB PROFILE!!! WHAAAAAA!!! Wow, she actually looks kind of hot in those pictures. I’ll write more about her some other day. Anyway, I’m feeling sick from this poutine so during the break I tell her that I’m going out to get some fresh air. I don’t even take my jacket, just my iPod. I find a nice comfy perch in front of the street and I sit with my knees to my chest. Snow is slowly falling around me. I listen to a Rachael Yamagata song and think about what kind of adventures Shirley is embarking on across the sea. It was a sad, peaceful moment that I allowed myself. Though admittedly, it was a bit too emo.

Here is your salad and your change.
Oh no. Dude, is this spinach?
Yes. You, uh, you asked for a spinach salad.
No, I like the stuff that comes on the spinach salad, but I wanted it with romaine.
So you want me to take it back?
I’m supposed to treat you like Kenneth, right?
Well then yeah, genius! Get me a new salad! Or get me a time machine so I can go back in time and smack your mom for smoking crack while she’s pregnant!



Destined to fight the world's evil, The WAMBAG endures massive battles involving impossible stunts, races on horse-pulled carriages, and the desecration of enchanting medieval castles (all done with dizzying computer graphics). Not only does the eye candy keep on coming, the tongue-in-cheek writing and deep Transylvanian accents perfect the film with a dose of dark humor.



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