All your base are belong to us.

I was bored.

HERE IT IS...









Don't steal from monks:

Happy Christmahanukwanzika

This holiday sucked. If you can call it a holiday. I had yesterday off work because we were closed, I called in sick on Christmas eve, and I'm back to work today (Boxing day). I hate being sick.

The most discriminated people in the world.

Smokers.

It's akin to the persecution that the blacks felt four score and ten years ago. We're not allowed in some places, parents with children get all snarky. Some parents won't let their daughters date smokers. Some women won't date smokers, though that's personal choice and you could be losing a great guy over something as trivial as smoking, but that's just my opinion.

I know how it feels to be persecuted. Which is ironic because I'm a twenty year old white male living in Canada. The greatest nation on earth. Besides australia. Oh, and China, they're fuckin rad over there.

Fuck

All I want for Christmas.

I seem to have these flurries of fabulous funk that feel fantastic in regards to my rigorous routine of writing words in this area. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. When I do, I do; and when I don't: I really don't. Odd, non? However I am BrandonBrown, which should be explanation enough for those foolish enough to be seeking it. I would highly recommend not doing so.

I have several odd traditions that circle around the holiday that may be known as Christmas to those who believe in christ and known as xmas to those that don't. (As a side note; I'd like Christmas to be called bysomeonesomeshittheydon'tneed day. I hate christmas. Stop buying all that pointless shit.)

One of these traditions is for someone I care about to let me down. For me to find out something horrible. Basically, every strong memory I have of this supposed "holy day" has been regarding someone deceiving me in the worste way possible. From the myth of Santa Claus when I was a boy, to empty boxes, to hits in the face, to falling in traps. All leading up to my father last year. I just wonder what kind of post-traumatic stress I'm going to have to deal with January 2007.

So, if you have anything of importance to tell me. Something you may have been hiding from me of importance. Something that you may have felt, said or did that led me to believe something that wasn't true. Save it until the new year, because this year's fucking full.

Merry fuckin Christmas.

The man in black fled across the desert.

And the Gunslinger followed. The man in black was never caught in this story however. This is me walking away in the most elegant way I can imagine. Goodbye.

The First Step

The trick is to realize that you're dreaming in the first place, you have to recognize it. You have to be able to ask yourself; "hey man, is this a dream?"...

Everyone knows, fun rules.

Seems like everyone's sleep-walking through their waking state or wake-walking through their dreams.

I'm depressed. I have no real friends here. I have a couple buddies that I go to the bar with on occasion, and a couple women that I see once in a while. But I don't know whether or not it's part of growing up or what, but I have no friends. It's fucking depressing me right now. Tomorrow I'll be right as rain I'm sure, but for now; I'm not pleased.

I miss you.