Now that intersectionality is finally getting the exposure it deserves, this is one of the few remaining positive justifications for using “great” and “white” in the same sentence.

I love that I just had the audacity to grill someone over getting adequate sleep. Now it’s 1.30am, I had 4 hours sleep last night (after a 6am bedtime) and I’ve refreshed the front page of Reddit enough to admit that I’ve long since stopped doing anything productive for the night. I swear I’m this close to cleaning as procrastination against writing. It’s not that I have anything against what I do here daily, but the sheer fact that it’s an obligation disincentives me from jotting down thoughts. When I’ve got nothing particular to talk about, ranting becomes less desirable. So in lieu of ranting, here are some things that are floating around my brain juices:

Did you know that if you’ve been convicted of a DUI you cannot enter Canada without a temporary resident permit? Not content to merely disqualify you from driving while you’re in the country, you are unable to step foot atop Canadian soil if you drunk, drove and got caught. You can apply for the temporary resident permit I mentioned above. It costs $200 and there’s no guarantee it’ll be approved. Since March 2012 they’ll waive the fee on your first visit, because they’re such jolly souls. Other crimes preventing admission to Canada involve acts of terrorism, war crimes and espionage. I can’t tell if they’re ranked more or less severely than a DUI. There doesn’t seem to be a hierarchy here. I guess access to the land where the rivers run deep and sugary with maple syrup and all beavers have tails made of delicious pastries is most desirable. Plebian drunk drivers who endanger the lives of others aren’t fit to sully our prairies and meadows. If you plan to come here, maybe don’t drink, drive and get caught. You could get turned away.

I finally watched Ghost Shark 2: Urban Jaws. It was everything I expected of it, which is high praise indeed. A multitude of excellent lines and absurd overacting. Errant American accents pepper a film shot in Auckland, New Zealand. It’s as low-rent as you’d hoped. It caught me by the balls to hear a few surprisingly poignant sentiments throughout. I’ll never look at daffodils the same way again (did that sound clickbaity?). This hearkens back to what I was talking about yesterday though. Yes Ghost Shark 2: Urban Jaws is a parody (surprisingly. The film was sprouted from a fake trailer years back. Initially without the inaugural Ghost Shark, the syfy channel has since released an entirely unrelated film named as thus), but it exploits the conventions of the medium effectively. By noting that a ghost shark can swim through any state of water (including ice and steam) they find some truly innovative ways of executing innocent bystanders. I couldn’t help but guffaw wildly at a few. Plus it was made by a bunch of Kiwis. On ya maaaaates.

It only just dawned on me what a motley collection of items sit in front of me as I type daily. There’s a nail clipper and a small pottle of cuticle cream (I got it as a free sample and it smells like lemons). A remote that controls my computer (complete with a mini-keyboard on the back) in case I feel like watching from bed without rising to reach the keyboard. Then the items cease getting useful. My old Galaxy S2 is just sitting there. I keep trying to figure out a good use for it (seeing as it’s just a small computer now), but as I just mentioned I already have a remote for my computer. What else is an old smartphone good for? There’s a flat wooden stick left over from when I dislocated my finger. The doctor gave me a spare splint and it’s still waiting for use. I think it’s just a back-up in case vampires bum rush me while I type. There’s a yellow paperclip from when I was still applying for jobs (7 months ago). There are also 6 pens of varying shape, size and colour. Given that these days I write about as often as I get a night of 8+ hours sleep, they’re certainly not there out of necessity.

Speaking of that sleep thing, I should really climb into bed before it hits 2.30am. I’ll hit the hay and sleep like a rock. I ain’t afraid of no ghost sharks.

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