Grinface

mook (m??k) Pronunciation Key n. Slang An insignificant or contemptible person.

Anyone who knows me.

Anyone who knows me knows me that I know me hating the laughter.


The Best Band EVER

But I don't pocess the necessary language to do so.

All right, here's the setup.

About 2 weeks ago I was informed that nutmeg holds hallucinogenic and delirient properties. Intrigued I gathered some fresh nutmeg and went searching for a guinea pig to give some to.

A dishboy at my place of employment fit the bill. He was dim, eager...and, ironically named Brandon. I fail to see the humor and don't wish to. Now, he injested them at work (never recommended) and noted the terrible taste/texture. The next day he called in sick, but the next time I spoke with him, he did his best to share with me his first psychadelic experience. Needless to say, he didn't handle it well (being alone high for over 24 hours) and I don't recomment Nutmeg as a beginner's psychadelic.

So, two weeks go by and I do my research. Reading people's trip stories on places like erowid.org (the greatest source on the internet) as well as others.

I found out that many people do not have good trips off of this. Though, these were almost exclusively kids with little or no drug experience that broke some of the cardinal rules of psychadelics. Several "seasoned" drug-takers' reports of their trips sounded right up my alley.

So, with a day off (yesterday); I decided to eat some of them. I carefully weighed out 19 grams. Appx 3 whole, fresh nutmeg (always weigh nutmeg, it's terribly easy to overdose), and planned my day.

The first 5 hours are all waiting, which I expected. Then about halfway through the 5th hour, blamo. Like I'd smoked a pound and a half of mushroom laced weed man.

Getting into the 6th or 7th hour, I went and saw pan's labrynth, a brilliantly directed spanish adult fantasy film that I highly recommend. Needless to say, I ignored much of the subtitles and instead focused on the stunning visuals and impecable musical score. Then, t'was home to bed.

I've read that many people had trouble getting to sleep on the old megtrain. I must have been the exception to that rule. Smoking about a gram of bubble hash will do that to you I guess. But, sleeping and more importantly dreaming seemed to be the best part of the trip. Extremely vivid, colorful, senseless flights of fancy filled my mind whilst I slept. And I awoke, about a half hour before my alarm was set to go off, more refreshed than I had been in months that early. And, luckily for me, still stoned off my tits. So, naturally I kept the party going and injested another 15-20 grams.

Philosophy class was terrific, though I did laugh inappropriately several times. I was slightly sedated by the Nutmeg, but it wasn't in such a manner that I was incapable or unwilling to move, I was just comfortable while not moving. (which is highly unusual for myself).

All in all I say that was a brilliant time. Not sure I need to do it again, as I'm going on my 48th hour tripping(?), and my stomach's now starting to get a little sore. Though, I'd give it a 7 out of 10. Where, be you a somewhat spiritual person, you should find it at least mildly informative.

I've got news for you. Yes man, I've got some news.

I've found a song that's summing up most of what I'm feeling. Well, actually; this was a alykhan find. Those of you that aren't familiar with Mr. Walji and his musical taste should be. That said, t'is a song by the faint titled agenda suicide.

you could follow logic
or contest it all
the work solution makes the common house a home

the element of progress
that you mention is gone
it de-evolved to something you were headed toward

as i lay to die the things i think
did i waste my time, i think i did- i worked for life

all we want are just pretty little homes
our work makes pretty little homes

like a cast shadow
like a fathers dream
have a cut out son
what's a worse disease
to get that pretty little home

as i lay to die the things i think
i don't want to regret what i did- and work for life

all we want are just pretty little homes
our work makes pretty little homes
agenda suicide, the drones work hard before they die
and give up on pretty little homes

(like a cast shadow)
our work makes pretty little homes
our work makes pretty little homes
agenda suicide, the drones work hard before they die
and give up on pretty little homes

What's really missing in your life?

After reading a respose to a blog from TR, I realized what I truly was missing in my life.

It's odd, you know. That, I now have money and a moderate amount of success in a glamorous industry, and I feel empty. As though, the world wouldn't notice if I just didn't wake up one morning. And, this isn't a good feeling. I'm sure many of you can attest to the validity of that statement. Whether you know from experience or from the lyrics of some lame ass simple plan song, the words aren't any less true. I'm not needed by anyone. Anywhere, as far as I know.

What could brandonbrown be missing from his life, you ask. Well, many things. Too many things. I seem to have traded everything that I had in my life for everything I didn't have while at the same time losing everything that I had. I'll tell you right fucking now, that; this time at least, the grass is white on this side.

But the most noticeable thing that's missing from my existence is a person to share it with. There seems to be no one that I can connect with on this side of the mountains.
Perhaps, you feel as I feel. That this is impossible, and that I must be doing it to myself. This is true. I'm conciously aware of it. I'm pushing people away that I may otherwise be the best of friends with. Even worse is my unwillingness to start a relationship with women due to the fact that I'm unfairly comparing them with a woman with whom I have such strong feelings for that I'm almost at a loss for words both in describing these feelings and how absurd and helpless they make me feel.

I can almost assure you, avid reader, that the person in question will undoubtedly not respond to this outpouring of emotion, just as she has systematically avoided every other post on the subject. For reasons that I understand all too well.

Furthermore, I have decided not to come back to Prince George to live for the summer. As disappointed as you may be. (are you?). I can assure you that I feel more than your collective disappointment. But, the way that I see it is that I now live in Saskatoon. I've moved on. Fuck, that's hard to read, but it stands as the truth. Don't get me wrong, I will be back. Perhaps to fix the relationships that I've ruined, or to try start new ones that I should have; but, I will be back.

Oh, I thought I'd take this time to wonder out loud why no one is making any fucking effort whatsoever to come and see me. I hear enough sob stories everyday about how upset people are that I'm gone. Yet, I've heard not one request for a room to stay in or a bed to sleep on. Nothing. Which, in itself is a little bit depressing. I don't know, maybe I'm viewing this incorrectly. Perhaps I'm just making some vain attempt to make you feel sorry for me. But, either way. A little word here and there isn't all that much to ask coming from me. The calls that I do get, god; they're great. Just know that I love you, and I have for as long as I've known you. Goodnight.