Only the beginning...

Something I haven't wanted to do for a while now has been to write on my blog about the impending economic crisis, what is going to happen, and how David Icke may or may not have known about it. Then, after a week of my not posting on my blog, I realized it may be on my mind for some years to come. Unfortunately, I may not have 2 hot wires to snap together to connect to the internet to continue writing, but if that happens, you DEFINITELY will not have a different set of wires to read it. That and most likely you will add to the increasing number of google searches for "Where is there food in " or "Where is there jobs in ".

Most of my life is about having a catostrophic view of life, the world, and virtually everything that anyone with power does in this world. You could call me cynical or jaded, but I'm just another animal, man, doing my animal things like I do best. You could call me the metaphorical polar bear in the zoo with the compulsive head sway. Some would question the bear and ask him "What are you doing? Stop swaying, dammit!!!" but I'm just gonna say "The bear lived his whole life in a zoo, and he doesn't speak any fucking english, so cut him some slack plz."

So now that your mouth is a-water with prospects of me talking about North American Unions and Neo Great Depressions, I suppose I can hold the information from you no longer. I've built up the suspense as big as it can go without the inevitable drop in attension span. Here's something that may not occur to you, and certainly hasn't occurred to those FAT CATS on WALL STREET:

What's going to happen to all our celebrities? Nobody will be able to afford cameras, television cable, movies, or gossip magazines. an entire branch of the WORLD economic secter will cease to exist, at least in our soon to be impoverished nations. What will the Brad Pitts and the Angelina Jolie's and the Jennifer Anison's do without having paparazzi (who i presume will be too impoverished from malnutrition to lift their pencil in question) hanging off their every move.

Also, celebrity money will be worthless too, so they won't be able to buy the latest fashions, and whatever else celebrities spend their money on. I realize your mind has just been blown, so before I bombard you any further, I will let what has already been said give time to penetrate to the WHATWHY part of your brain, and I will begin to at least attempt to answer this monolithic problem in my next installment.

Imma go home and practice dancing after i write this

If you know me you might know that I've been spending far too much time reading a lot about Michael Jackson, in my attempt to capture his essence and cram it into a ganster rap song. We're not here today to talk about my mania, or the irony of my obsession over pop culture, but instead we're going to talk about one of my other obsessions: dancing. You see in Michael Jackson's video/movie career, a common theme develops.

The guy, like all guys, has problems. But he solves his problems by DANCING and making his enemies his allies by dancing with him and producing some badass complicated coriography in the process. He however maintains total control, being the head dancer and still way better dancer than his adversaries, they merely following his lead the best way they can. Sometimes they exaust themselves by dancing without proper pre dance stretching, but most of the time after they dance a little while they just realize what a great guy he is and how can they kill a guy after he adds some boss moves to their repitoire. This isn't just an isolated zombie related incident, I mean the guy solves problems in outer space and everywhere with this One Size Fits All solution.

So I couldn't help but think of how much like real life this was. If my boss were to fire me for not doing my job properly, if I were an amazing dancer, I'd just be like

"Oh yeah, my performace has been somewhat atrocious Mr. Chu, but what do ya think of this?"

And then proceed to bust out in an uprock routine where I show him and whoever else happens to be in the room all sides of my feet before going into some downrock power moves before a one handed air freeze finale.

I guarentee you he'd forget all about what I did wrong and think only of the last experience he had with me, my amazing dance moves. Then he would offer me a raise and possibly try to stuff dollar bills down my pants, which I would accept out of politeness.

I'm a fan of quoting Johnny Cash, one line in particular "Get rhythm when you get the blues". I can guarentee you that in 1993 through 2006 amidst all the pedophelia accusations Michael was getting, that he was glad he was such a great dancer, because when you're nervous about showing up in court the next day or a 25 minute strip search, sometimes you just need to dance the stress away.

Dirty Meat

I had to buy pizza for lunch today since I forgot my money at home, and I have no FOOD at home, so I had to go home to get money for food. Since it takes me my full lunch hour to get home and back to work, I could only get something to eat that was:
-on the way between my home and work
-something i could eat while walking
I know what you're thinking and, its true I do come up with some wicked problem solving ability when I'm in a pinch. Not eating is also not an option since I get REAL cranky when I haven't eaten for a while.
So I go to the pizza place on the way whose pizza drastically resembles pizza you probably bought ate and loved as a kid: greasy, crunchy, not particularly good, but not Sarpinos (ZING) and as usual I get whatever is freshest, which at this particular wrinkle in time, was meat lovers. I would say I am a meat lover, even though what passes for meat in our society does not mean ACTUAL meat. So i'm eating this greasy chunk that may or may not have been some type of slug, and I have a flashback to Canada day.

Canada day was a pretty good time. It wasn't an amazing time, since I like most other Canadians had to work the next day. But I did get to go see the freemason lodge during their open house (which in Victoria at least is every Canada day between 10am and 3pm) and hung out at various points in town with my homies. But what stands out at this Canada day was our trip to John's Place.

John's Place is what I can only call the most overrated breakfast place in Victoria. While most breakfast places in Victoria are both overcrowded on weekends and overpriced, this one in particular also has some of the worst food I have ever eaten in a breakfast place that wasn't fast food. I had eaten lunch and dinner at this place before, and I was actually impressed with the food at that particular time. So I followed the logic that "hey, the dinners are good, if this is a breakfast place, the breakfasts must be GREAT". I was never more wronger in my life.

I ordered the eggs benedict, because I love eggs benedict but am far too lazy to make my own hollandaise sauce. So when I go out to breakfast, I can generally justify dropping $12 on some eggs benny because that is the only opportunity I have to eat them. What do I get? oh the eggs benedict are there, the hollandaise is present, and the english muffins are as english as english muffins can be, but here they have a friggin sausage mcmuffin chunk of bloated grease fat RUINING EVERYTHING. I have never wished I had thrown up in a restaurant more than the day I ate that meal. And I only ate it because of the starving people in Africa. I hope they appreciated it.

Who is that ravishing...oh. Could you put your hat back on?

I am not normally a fan of hats.  They have their place, like ski hills and other cold, windy climes, but in general, my head enjoys breathing.  Kind of the same reason I keep my hair fairly short.  If I even have my bucket helmet on for an extended period of time, it sends my follicle cells and sebaceous glands screaming for oxygen.  

The damp, clumpy mess that it leaves behind is also not attractive and hides my otherwise awesomely awesome hair style.  How any guy with a baseball hat attracts any women at all leaves me in sheer amazement of how low people's standards will drop for someone with conversation skills.


But what I do like are what I can only describe as sausage hats.  While not really looking like a sausage, they do look like what I imagine a super large sausage that had a cross section taken out of it would look like.  The cross section would then be hollowed out in one side, and a low hanging rim affixed.  The ones I see are usually dark colors, green grey or black, and do they make girls look CUTE.  I never thought I would be a sucker for a hat, but even an average looking girl look like an Electra-house sex kitten mouse fox. 
The thing that makes me sad, however is the fact that its a current trend, and for a brief twist of time, a good one.  I can only hope, but not expect that what follows it will be better, even though this may not be in actuality possible.