So, as I sit here writing this angst-ridden entry [just wait, it'll get more angsty in a minute], I'm missing Mike O'Neill on stage a few blocks away, along with the great Robert Benvie. Okay, that's not quite true. He's probably just stepped off the stage. But still. I missed it. Two concerts in 3 days that I've missed cause they were SOLD OUT. Evil evil evil. It's not like I couldn't have gotten in anyway tonight, but I was too tired to bug Adam or Cameron about it.
And besides, I should be writing my papers for this week and working on my film presentation for... tomorrow. Ack! Speaking of film, you should all watch Frank's Cock. You think I'm just being obscene, but I'm not. It's a fantastic Canadian short film with [the one & only] Callum Keith Rennie. It is... beautifully striking. That works to describe it. But yeah. Now I have to work up a presentation for it in less than 12 hours. Woo! All the while lamenting about missing Mike O'Neill and Robert Fricken' Benvie. ARGH!
Ah well. I'm going to see furnaceface on Friday, come hell or low water. Oh yeah. We missed Kilt on Saturday nite all because of )(#@$*#()$ East Side Mario's trying to make us wait 2 hours for a table... and not even staying to eat in the end. Stupid Barrymore's sellouts.
Whoops, I'll be nice. Really, I will. It's the caffeine, I swear. No Pierre @ Second Cup tonight though. [Not that I go just to see him or anything; I've been going there waaaaaay too long]. It was funny cause Iain and I were discussing that location [of Second Cup] and he was going on and on about how it's the 'gay meeting place' and whatnot and all I could think was... DAMNIT that just proves my theory [about Pierre]. Oh, woe is me. Hahaha.
See I have this thing. This thing for gay men. [Most of you have already heard tell of this fetish, so it's not a big deal]. I don't know what it is, I'm just invariably attracted to them... which invariably leads to me being disappointed cause I can't have what I want. Take this as one reason, I suppose.
Selfish eh? Well, more pathetic than anything, really. I need to get over it. But anyway, on a side note, is it wrong to love someone even more for wearing nail polish? Yeah, that's what I thought. It's all about fetishes, eh? hahaha.
Perhaps I'll compile a list of them [fetishes, that is]. Send em to me, no matter how insignificant [nail polish] or how grand [redhead]. Yeah, sounds like fun. And if you don't do it, well, I'll be forced to... er... make them up myself. hahaha... and we wouldn't want that, now would we?
Anyway, I've garbled your brains long enough for tonight. Instead, go check out ali's spiffy, er fuzzy, new layout and amy's ever-wondering fall-coloured site. Cider rules. No no, not Cider HOUSE rules... just apple cider. Get it? Got it? Good.
xoxox. Sweethomewrecker Western Dreamz, as we used to say...
'Someone should be writing you poems everyday' - Rob McLennan
