Friday, July 28, 2006

Golf and poutine: the results!

Golf: sucked. It was too damn hot and the course was too damn wet. It was barely playable. I'm used to playing the best golf course in the region, and this course looked horrible in comparison.

Poutine: very good. I also ate a pizza, and I might eat a few hamburgers later tonight. This is how a weekend should start.

Now... a movie and lots of sleep.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Golf and poutine

I'm playing a round of golf on a new course tomorrow. I'm used to my usual golf course, so much that I don't even to get down to read the greens anymore. Well, it sure helps to be working there also, and to be cutting greens five days a week, but I prefer to think I'm good. Actually, I prefer to have people tell me I'm good.

Note this: people who don't tell me I'm either good or spectacular are retards!

After the fine round of golf I'll play tomorrow, I'll probably eat a poutine. I hear you say: "What the fuck is a poutine?!" Well, all I can say is that it's the best junk food in the world. You can find it across the Canada, according to a few sources, but the true, the original, the best, is found in Québec. Every region claims to have invented the poutine. Every region claims to have the best poutine. The poutine is mythical. It also happens to be my favorite vegetarian meal... because it's the only vegetarian meal that I actually accept to eat. Few people actually think of it as a vegetarian meal, but let's face, it is one. There's no meat in it. Only potatoes, cheese and gravy. Sooooooooooooooooo good!

Note this: if you ever come to Québec, taste the poutine and say it's no good, you are a retard! Also, if you say so, you might be thrown out of the province, or be kicked out of it. Such blasphemy, in the very land of blasphemy (we have to be the most blasphemous people in the world), is unacceptable!

Monday, July 24, 2006

Fun having time! Yay!

I wrote that 3 and a half years ago. Have fun!


Je me rappelle comme je marchais le pas léger jadis, alors que ma jeunesse était si forte en moi que j’en avais un peu honte. Je marchais néanmoins le torse bombé, la tête haute avec la prétention de posséder quelque secret qui échappait à tous. Je jouissais de cette supériorité comme le seul singe d’un arbre à avoir une banane. J’en avais honte, mais je pavanais tout de même, comme pressé par cette voix à l’intérieur qui n’est pas toujours de bon conseil. Mais, les choses alors n’étaient pas ce qu’elles semblaient être à mes yeux. J’ai fini par comprendre avec le temps que mon secret n’était peut-être pas si incroyablement révolutionnaire qu’il en paraissait, et que si personne n’en parlait, c’était peut-être parce qu’il avait été mis de côté déjà longtemps auparavant. J’ai compris cela, et déprimé, j’ai investi ma jeunesse à comprendre ce que je ne comprenais pas. J’ai donc payé de ma vitalité la sagesse qui ne me sert aujourd’hui à rien, sinon à ne pas hurler à la tête de ces jeunes passant sur le trottoir, se pavanant, se targuant de connaître quelque secret que tous les autres ne connaissent pas, jouissant de la banane avant de comprendre que tous les autres ont eu la banane et la lui avaient refilée après avoir compris qu’elle n’était pas bonne.

Je vois le temps passer avec les gens qui passent sur le trottoir. Comme s’en alla ma jeunesse autrefois, marchant sur le trottoir, je regarde les secondes me séparant de la mort avec en chacune d’elle une nouvelle personne à observer, à étudier, à mépriser, à pardonner et à oublier.


Had fun?

Sunday, July 23, 2006

It works!

I wanted to use this blog as a way to stimulate myself, to make me write more, and it works! I wrote three small paragraphs!!

You need small victories to win a war.

Besides that, O diary, let me tell you about my day (this sounds so cheesy, doesn't it?)... well, IT RAINED, RAINED RAINED RAAAAAIIIIIIIIIINED so much that I'm forgetting punctuation (actually omitting it, I'm like that). I hate rain. I hate snow. I hate pretty much anything that falls from the sky. A skydiver would fall in my backyard, still waiting for his parachute to open (even though it would obviously be too late), and I'd still be mad at him for digging a hole in the lawn. I hate rain.

Rain wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to work through it. It just sucks. Being wet sucks. It's not a swimming pool wet. It's a fully clothed, what-the-fuck-is-that-shit, wet. Five hours of unwanted wetness. If I was just a little more insane, I would start fighting raindrops. Take that, and that, you bastard!


Once more.


That felt good. Even if it was only in my head. I did actually yell earlier. I yelled at my boss' dog. She deserved it, that bitch (this is funny, because she really is a bitch, how clever!).


Saturday, July 22, 2006

Annoyness and oversleeping

I'm deeply annoying, you know that?

I annoy myself. Going to bed. I feel like I've already slept way too much today. Working early sometimes sucks.

Friday, July 21, 2006


Here are some benefits of committing into a long-term relationship with me:

- You don't need to buy a dictionary, because, let's face it, had I been born earlier, I could have written that book.

- You don't need to buy a calculator, because, let's face it, had I been born earlier, I'd have invented numbers. Born much much much earlier, that is.

- You could, in time, be called an aunt by twin girls (my nieces). Everybody loves twins. Being related to twins, therefore, is cool. So I'm cool.

- You could be cool.

Thursday, July 20, 2006


There was a young man of Milan
Whose rhymes they never could scan;
When asked why it was,
He said 'It's because
I always try to cram as many words into the last line as ever I possibly can.'


This isn't mine, but it makes me laugh. If someone finds out who wrote this, please tell me so I can give credit where credit is due.


I love Tool. Just so great. Comment.

I love the new not-yet-released Mars Volta album. Especially the song "Asilos Magdalena". Comment.

I love chocolate chips cookies, and anyone who's ever read something I've written know how much... well, maybe not. But I do love chocolate chips cookies. Comment.

You love me. Comment.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Why blah?

"Why blah?" is as stupid a question as "Is it peanut butter in your mouth?". The correct question concerning "blah" is: "What can't I say with "blah"? The answer: Nothing!

Blah you!
I need to blah.
I blah this.
Blah the world!
You're so blah.
This is blahing blah!
What the blah is your problem?!

My favorites are "You're so blah" and "what the blah!".

Now you know. The secret of happiness and success in life is blah.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Still blahing

I believe in intelligent life beyond earth. I also believe that they are even more jealous than we are of each other, and also as much or much more violent than we are, perhaps with different means, though.

Believe... I don't like that word. Often, people ask me what I believe in, as they expect me to tell them whether I believe in one or more gods, or whether I'm an atheist. I don't like atheism that much, because I love stories, and religions are stories (whether they are stories or history remains to be seen). Nevertheless, I love stories, and I think it would very hypocritical of me to use God in my figure of speech every day, while at the same time totally denying His existence. So I don't "believe" either in His existence nor His inexistence. Now, instead of using the word "believe", I'd like to introduce this little concept of mine, which is complete open-mindedness and carelessness about supposed certainties.

I don't take anything for granted. Truth? Who knows? I let the door open for any reality to influence me, my decisions, et cetera. God? Sure, why not... Aliens who came here 250000 years ago and later cross-bred an existing homo-erectus with their own genes to create a more capable race of human workers for their gold mines? Sure, why not... Peace on earth? Sure, why not... Love, the so-called soulmate? Sure, why not... Pizza? Absolutely!

Damn, there goes my carelessness about supposed certainties.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

I just realized I don't know how to blog. Tell me, people. Tell me how to blog.

I just realized I don't know who I'm talking to. I never cease to amaze myself.

Since I don't really like blogging anyway, I might just use this blog as a reminder of things to do:

- Buy milk.

Multilingual first post

This is my first post.

Ceci est mon premier... eh... comment dit-on "post" en français? Je crois que "message conviendrait. Alors... eh... message!

Das ist mein whatever whatever.