Fool’s gold in Captured thoughts

  • Aug. 9, 2019, 10:29 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

In Canada the fact that we have legalized weed and illegalized weapons is most evident when you watch downtrodden, somewhat lost but over-confident Canadians struggling to get by as featured extras in a movie adaptation of a Phillip K Dyck novel.
Cue voiceover.

Routine, poutine
Montreal, alcohol
La, la, la la,
la, la, la-la.

All these old guys at a Canadian Tire at 2:30pm on a Tuesday afternoon are in front of the Weed Whacker line replacement display in the ‘Seasonal’ section. I see them coming and going ‘cause I’m there too, watching a Youtube video about how to thread a weed whacker head.

The lady was procrastinating about buying a house because world population is going to peak in 2035. “Do you think demand for housing will go down after that?” She asked her friend.
“Fersure”, her friend said.
I finish my coffee and go down the street to buy some gin.

I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I have cute nipples. I have to agree.

The neighbours Big Buddy and Little Buddy are on Big Buddy’s front porch, drinking beer and talking about whatever it is that they can talk about so much after all these years and decades — maybe sport, maybe real estate, I’ve never had any gumption to find out. I don’t want to talk to them. I felt bad enough when we put in the concrete courtyard and driveway, when we put in the pool and landscaping, when we did the 800 square foot addition…I’m a humble guy who made it big. They are still driving the same vehicles, wearing the same clothes, drinking the same brand of domestic beer and here I am like a glittering cunt, pulling up in a $100,000 land shark. I hide in the RV for a while, fiddling with the fan and flipping through the manual — there is a lot to figure out, eventually I forget they are there and I am here, that we are who we are.

There is no such thing as a bad nap.

Turns out to be a busy day. That’s the problem of being a rodeo clown, you never know when you are going to be needed. You never know when you are going to jump in and save the day.

When considering how bad my hand writing is, I think part of the reason is is that I am a bad speller. As a kid I would intentionally write poorly to hide my spelling mistakes. How clever is that, eh?
But the internet is the great equalizer and it has levelled the playing field when it comes too spelling.
Autocorrect is truly under appreciated. It is democratic socialism at its finest.
I love you autocorrect. Hold me in your warm embrace.

Why I hate meetings
I’m not used to being part of someone else’s day. I’m more used to them being part of mine. I’m used to being in charge at least when I get there, like a fire jumper, or a cop, or a school teacher…I’m not an audience member. I’m not an attendee.

Back when I was in high school, I could type 12 words a minute. I’m not very coordinated. I tried and tried to type faster but somehow my brain just didn’t work that way. Little did I know that these many years later, with the invention of the personal computer and then the internet, we would all be spending so much time in front of keyboards.

d-_-b


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