Canadian Psycho

Don’t invade my personal space

The soft sounds of a JVC boom box could be heard in the background. I don’t know what song it was, but it definitely wasn’t from my CD library.

I’m wearing a blood covered apron from cutting up ribs. Pork juice covers my hands and the 10-inch knife that easily tears through the flesh. I’m midway though the job when an old kids in the hall sketch appears in my mind.

You know the one where they hang themselves outside the banker’s house because she didn’t give them a loan. “You don’t like us do you? That’s why you won’t give us the loan.” The pair drone. “Are you sure this is the right house?” The one asks the other.

I start to chuckle. A grin crosses my lips. It’s right than I take a quick glance behind me and see one of the servers staring at me with a frightened look I’m all alone in the kitchen. It’s then I realize how I must look like some crazy psycho.

Just to freak her out more, I pretend to have a facial tick and just stare at nothing without blinking for minutes on end. I tell stories about my latest visit to the psychiatrist and what kind of medication I’ve been prescribed.

It’s great fun.



Where have I been since my last post?

Wouldn’t you all like to know? I’m just going to say peyote is a blast. Everyone should try some. Don’t and I mean don’t mix it with pez. Those hard sugar candies should be illegal.



My muscles are bigger than yours

One of the blurry, drug induced evenings, I found myself at the Back Alley. It’s a great white trash rock n’ roll nightclub.

I’m on my way to the door when I see a tough guy. One of those guys that won’t budge an inch when there’s clearly not enough room for two people to pass, but if both people turn sideways all is good. This guy wasn’t going to be that considerate. Neither was I. I puffed up and laid the shoulder into him. He wasn’t as tuff as he looked. I knocked him right over into the guy beside him and like dominoes the next two people also stumbled. The third person turned and started swinging.

I walked a little further and turned around to see the fight I started. I will give the Back Alley staff some kind words. Its bouncers were there in no time.



Ouch! screams my wallet

I’m in the process getting an Albertan license plate. The first step is an inspection. Wow, did that ever cost a lot. I’m hoping they turned it into a time-traveling, hover car like in Back to the Future. I heard chicks dig hover cars.



Don’t tell me what to do!

Last week, I had a cold. Peyote kills the immune system. I thought I better cook up some chicken noodle soup. I’m chopping up some veggies and other ingredients when one of the roommates comes to talk. He starts telling me how I should make the soup.

You know if he was a super cook who had won more than 50 per cent of his Iron Chef battles, I would take his advice. He isn’t I started to get a little pissed off.

That’d be like me telling him how to suck dick. Something I know nothing about and something, I’m sure, he has mastered on the street corner of whore alley. Eat a dick! I’ll have a bowl of soup.



Sad news

My mom sold her ducklings. She bought a pair of ducks a year ago. They hatched 10 babies in the spring when I was up there. Cute little fuzz balls. They grew up and were too much, so my mom got rid of them. Where did they go? Some restaurant in Calgary. If I go out and order duck, I could be eating the cute little guys I watched hatch. Not cool.