I guess you could say my foundations are buttrest…

It’s after miiiiiidnight. So fuck it.

Today didn’t end. Work was batshit. Then I had to go to the doctor. THEN I had this other thing writing I’ve been working on, which was the last five hours. I’m not ready to talk about that one yet.

Here’s something. I’m tired of taking my pants off at the doctor. Years and years ago I had a pilonidal cyst excision. Basically I had this area where a pore blockage or something created havoc. Blood, sebum and pus all swarmed and made a big ol’ lump. It swelled and swelled, and I had to visit an emergency walk in to find out what the hell was wrong with me. I had flare ups over years, and when it got bad enough, I had a specialist go in and just pull out a chunk of my arse. Right between the cheeks. I’ve got this Harry Potter scar there now. It’s kind of neat, I guess. So I’m used to having my pants down at the doctor, in as much as someone can be used to it. Over the years I’ve had a variety of reasons to go in and drop trow.Last week when I had my whole heat rash thing, I at least got to keep my undies on. The doctor was curious how far the rash went, but she saw enough to suss it out without me having to expose my genitals.

Over the past few days, I’ve been noticing little blood trails when I’ve wiped. It definitely wasn’t hemorrhoids, but it did look an awful lot like pilonidal sinus discharge. Heh, discharge. Having had some mild flare ups over the years, I wanted to get the antibiotics to take care of it quickly, before it turned into a massive issue. So of course, when the receptionist took me in, she told me I’d have to strip and lie down under one of those weird paper blanket things. She walked out of the room, and I took my place on the table. When the doctor arrived, we chatted a little, then she pulled on her gloves and dove right in. She definitely wasn’t rough, but she didn’t hesitate either. Pried me right open, lubed up and had a poke around. It turns out I had an anal fissure. Apparently the heat rash had caused my buttcrack skin to stick together. This had formed a little nick. She likened it to a paper cut. It’s not a big deal, she says if I just put diaper rash cream on it for a few days, it’ll heal up. Also she marvelled at what a good job my pilonidal surgeon did, so that was clearly money well spent.

On another matter entirely, I saw James Blake live in concert last night. I think it’s my third time, and it doesn’t get less impressive. He’s an incredibly captivating performer, the light show at The Sony Centre was fantastic. He has a very charming stage manner, and the atmosphere was pretty damn welcoming. After the first song, he looked out at the seated crowd. “Oh. We’re gonna be polite tonight are we? Or are we gonna stand up and have a good time? It didn’t take long for the invitation to catch on.

During one song the drummer eschewed his kit for snapping his fingers. I got the sense that he wanted people to join in, but barely anyone was. It made me think of improv a little. He’d put out an offer, and it was up for us to say yes. I wanted to join in, but I also didn’t want to feel silly or sheepish in front of anyone. So I held back. It was really weird. I wanted to play, and I knew that if I did, I’d have a good time. I also knew that I was surrounded by strangers, and nobody would really care. But what if it was annoying for someone? What if I ruined their experience by being obnoxious? So I didn’t do it, and I kinda regretted it. In truth, I had nothing to lose by saying yes, and I’ve got no real idea why I didn’t. Next time maybe I’ll be the concertgoer I wished to be.

As for now, I’m saying yes to putting my butt in bed.


Miss opport-you-nities

How often do you have level up moments?

As a kid, they’re abundant. You’re growing, learning, understanding boundaries. You’re sussing out what you can and can’t do, where the edges of your potential lie. You learn more, understand more, those boundaries shift. You’re capable of more than you once were, and with this recognition, your potential grows. It’s exciting, and even a little scary. Sometimes it doesn’t happen when you expect, or you’re ready for an outcome that doesn’t work out. Coming up against this friction is frightening, but important. Oftentimes it’ll cause you to shift back, be reticent to put yourself out there. Growth, however, comes from facing the adversity in front of you and pushing past it. Learning to recalibrate and find new opportunities or directions to take. If everything’s too easy, you’re not growing. If you have nothing difficult to face, there’s no level to surpass. Nothing changes, and you stagnate. As an adult, this is plateauing, and it’s all too common.

This all sounds very heady, especially given where I’m going. Bear with me, it’s heading somewhere. Years ago I worked in radio. I was a production engineer, which is a fancy way of saying I edited audio. I recorded voice, made foley and mixed it all together with music and other SFX to make radio ads and station imaging. It was the best job I’ve ever had, and I feel like I’ve spent my entire adult life chasing that high. I had an amazingly creative boss, who constantly pushed me to experiment, throw shit at the wall and go beyond the limits of what I thought possible. I learned a lot, and there are lessons he taught that still continue to pay dividends. It was also a job. No matter how creative it was, it was a 9-5 and I treated it as such. Despite the opportunity in front of me, I rarely shifted from my “home by 5” mentality. I just wanted to get shit done and get out of there. I was stuck in this rut (right up my anus, really) where I was from the big city. I thought I was better than the work, that this was all a stopgap on my way to greater things. It was arrogant as fuck. I was also 22. I was arrogant as fuck. Much as I value the opportunities I took, I can’t help but think of the myriad that I missed because I’d mentally already flown the coop.

A week or so ago I looked at the pro tools hardware sitting on my desk. It always sits there, mostly disconnected. I was lucky to pick it up second hand for a steal, because even if it’s a few years out of date, it’s an incredibly powerful piece of hardware that enables infinite creativity. It’s been idle for a long time, there if I’ve needed it, but otherwise unused. I haven’t needed it much over the past few years, but whenever necessity has struck, it’s been there. Looking at this digi 002, I wondered why, with this powerful piece of hardware next to my keyboard, I was waiting for necessity to strike. I had the skills to do something, and was letting them languish. In my head there’d always been a link between audio editing and work. It was prime for necessity, simply because I’d never considered it any other way. What if, just maybe, I tried messing around with it for fun? Not because I had to, but because I could? Because in the grand scheme of things, I had the ability to do something that not everyone could, and casting that aside was a total waste. That if I only ever did what I had to, I’d rarely find out what I could do.

I’ve never particularly liked the song “Miss You” by Blink 182. When it was released, it signalled a departure from the more juvenile toilet humour the band prided itself on. It was their stab at a mature, haunting ballad, and they shit the bed entirely as soon as Tom DeLonge screamed out “WHERE ARE YOOOU” in his needly pitch. Over the years I’ve had endless laughs from shitting on it relentlessly. It’s been the subject of innumerable jokes and memes with friends. Nathan Fielder asked twitter to make a 12 hour loop of Tom’s verse, and I’ve trolled my mates with it on countless occasions. On Wednesday I wondered, just for shits and giggles, if the isolated vocals were out there to fuck around with. I found the vocals and made a seven second audio scene turning the dual vocals into a telephone conversation. It was incredibly insipid, and very fun to make. I went out to a beer event, stoked to have done something with my skills no matter how small. When I returned from the event, brimming with alcohol inspired pep, I dug back in and made a new version that was about a minute long. I listened in the morning, it wasn’t amazing, but it was kinda funny. Then Friday night while I was home alone, I remembered this neat thing people were doing circa 2008, where they’d take songs and slow them down 800%, creating surreal audio landscapes. Justin Bieber’s “Baby” was the flare that launched a thousand imitators, and it was a blast while it lasted. I thought about applying it to just DeLonge’s verse, and wondered how to do it in a technical sense. I got the software and tried it out, first 800% then 1600%. It clicked. The outcome was sorta haunting and, weirdly enough, probably more of the atmosphere the original song sought than it accomplished. I was tickled.

It’s no secret that I’m a big Neil Cicierega fan. I even know how to spell The Godfather of the Internet’s last name by now. Like I said, big fan. He’s an immensely talented and creative dude, and also embodies the kind of gonzo oddity I adore. One of his more well known shticks is his propensity for making mash ups with Smash Mouth’s “All Star”. They’re ridiculous, absurd but also intentionally jarring. Yesterday I was thinking to myself, what’s the opposite of Blink 182’s “Miss You”? Immediately Earth Wind and Fire’s “September” came to mind, a song that’s joy incarnate. There was no way the two tracks would fit together, which only made me want to force it more. In all my years of mash up fandom, I’d never made one of my own. Why not give it a whirl? I found an instrumental of “September” and started fucking around with it. Weirdly, it worked better than I thought. I hastily threw it all together, mixed it and put it out to friends. I was beyond chuffed. I’d actually made something for the sake of making something, nothing more. No necessity, just desire. And it was decent. Not perfect, but decent. I noticed little errors the more I listened, but it was fine, and that was good enough for me. It was done.

One of my friends was like “oh, that’s fun, but you should probably bring this down in the mix, try inserting some of these parts from the original” etc. I innately bristled. I didn’t see him making a mash up from scratch. Where did he get off throwing advice my way? I was the one who’d put myself out there and done something from my own provocation. Fuck this guy and his attitude. Then two seconds later I was like wait, fuck me. He’s right and I’m the one with the attitude. There is more that can be done here, and just because I’ve finished one version, that doesn’t mean I need to be done with it all. There’s nothing stopping me from going back and changing it, improving it. Nobody is waiting on me, expecting anything or even asking for it in the first place. To wit, NOBODY WANTS THIS, except maybe me. Maybe. This is entirely for me, and I deserve to put out something better, right?

Here’s the thing that I’ve always kind of known and never wanted to admit to myself. I’m intellectually lazy. It’s not that I’m not intelligent or talented, but I’m terrified of putting in hard work. It’s a common trait amongst gifted kids, but if you get used to things coming naturally and easy to you, the thought of trying becomes verboten. If something is difficult, clearly it’s not worth doing, right? This intellectual laziness has plagued my entire life. I’ve always taken the easy route, or rejected an outcome if it was reliant on grit. I can’t begin to fathom how many projects I’ve phoned in or half-arsed. Work I’ve submitted when I knew it wasn’t my best, but it was enough to make it seem like I’d gone all in. I hadn’t. In most cases, there was almost always more in the tank that I didn’t want to give. I saw it play out all through university and my work in radio. I’ve seen it most every day with this writing project, where I’ll get to 30 minutes and think well, I’ve done as much as I had to, let’s get the fuck out of here. So many abandoned pieces of writing that still had unexplored headroom. It’s exactly what’s held me back from comedy, just thinking about the re-writes, editing, and endless nights out workshopping to incrementally improve my content. It’s all been too much work, so I’ve done the bare minimum to avoid taking responsibility instead.

I don’t get to have an honest conversation about what I deserve without first acknowledging what I’m willing to do to get it. The two notions are inextricably tied. Whatever life I think I should be living, it’s something that I need to earn, and I’m not sure I’ve really even earned as much as I have. It all comes down to fear, of course. I’m afraid that maybe I’m really not all that talented. That if I do put in hard work, the outcome won’t be all that great. That deep down I’m not as creative as I think I am. That if I put my heart into my work, it’ll sink when I discover mediocrity all the way down. That the life I deserve, really, is less than what I’ve already got. I’ve arrived at where I am with the consistent pattern of not trying my best, so I always have an excuse in my back pocket. That if I don’t put in the hard work, I can always point to that potential reserve that’s been forever untouched. It’s easy to do nothing, and it’s also fruitless.

It’s not good enough anymore. I need to do more, because I need more in my life. I need to try, stumble, fail, and get back up. I need to take the time, put in the effort and earn my outcomes. As dumb as it sounds, I’m gonna go back and work on my stupid Blink 182 mash up because it represents more than just a silly idea. It’s a chance to try at something, and I’ve squandered enough of those for a lifetime.

The LAN before time

Remember how things mattered until they didn’t?

I used to be meticulous with my music curation. Okay, let’s take it down a peg. I used to Care A Lot about my iTunes metadata. I downloaded a ton of music and ripped all my CDs for the digital realm. Just years and years worth of stuff. It was all organised in a way to make hearing exactly what I wanted to hear as simple and efficient as possible. I’m sure this doesn’t make a ton of sense to all y’all, but when we used to torrent stuff or grab it from Napster/Morpheus/Kazaa/IRC or whatever, it often had weird characters, was misnamed, etc. It was a bunch of work. The number of times I’d download the same track, but with different names, was astounding. They even used to sometimes insert weird SFX into tracks as an odd form of copyright protection. Hell, I used to burn albums by downloading each individual track, then arranging them in order on a CD. It was the opposite of sophisticated. So I’d spend the time to get everything in order on my computer before porting it over to my iPod. End of story. Sorta.

I used to go to LAN parties (we’d all bring our desktop computers around to someone’s place, then spend the evening getting loaded up on caffeine, snacks and stay up all night gaming). The unspoken law of LAN parties is that while everyone was up, computers were for gaming. Inevitably we’d crash at some point, usually after sunrise. One of the exciting aspects of LAN parties was getting to leech content from each other. You could load up on anime, games, movies and music. Maybe it was that I got used to having limited space, needing to be conservative, etc. Or perhaps I was just a control freak. I would be discerning as to what I grabbed. When it came to shows, movies and music, I’d go through and only take what I thought I’d use. This wasn’t the case across the board. A bunch of people with massive hard drives would just take everything. They could, they had the luxury of not needing to care.

When it came to music, this always made me feel really uncomfortable. Why would you take everything? What if there was tons of stuff you weren’t into? I took a personal stake in it. I’d spent all this time curating my collection, making sure it was exactly how I wanted it. These people, however, would just absorb it into their own. Most of it would likely never even be heard. For them it was about having more data. For me it was about tailoring specific experiences. After all the work I put into it, I felt almost betrayed. They wouldn’t appreciate it like I did. Did I really want them to have it in that case? I never said anything, but it stewed up inside me something fierce. An unspoken grievance that stayed with me. It was weird.

These days, of course, streaming exists. Music is all free and accessible, with collections that are exponentially larger than mine. None of it matters. What a load of wasted energy.

I wonder if anyone wants to come over for a LAN party…

It behooved me to make the pun

Quick story time.

The building I work in has a ton of meeting rooms. Like, eight+ on every floor. They’re all different, some have AV capabilities, some have frosted windows, they all fit different numbers of people. They have all manner of thematic designs. Right by my desk there’s a meeting room. Part of our team has meetings there often. It’s also surrounded by entirely clear glass. From my desk I can usually see what’s going on. Today I was returning from the bathroom and peered in on my way past. I stopped. On screen there was some kind of presentation. It had a picture of a centaur, and said something involving the word “Spokescentaur”. I had no idea who the woman conducting the meeting was, but I looked at her, shut my eyes and shook my head. She quirked her head to the side, confused, and I walked off.

20 seconds later I returned with a piece of paper that read “Spokesmane is catchier” and held it to the glass, standing there with an entirely straight face. I waited about ten seconds, saw everyone laughing, and went back to my desk without saying a word. Someone from my team who was in the meeting said that the woman loved it, took my criticism to heart, and is going to change the wording. The woman also suggested that I sit in on the meetings in case I have any other ideas. So that was my today weirdness.

I actually left the house last night. It was a big deal. Last Thursday I woke up thinking it was Valentines Day. It wasn’t, but I went out and caught up with a friend. She told me about this emo anti-valentines gig she was going to. A couple of local bands getting together to do tribute sets of five songs. Sounded kinda fun. In my teens/early 20s being anti-emo was kind of a big part of my identity. As an adult, I don’t really care. I’m not into emo, as such, but I am into themed events. There were gonna be four sets: Dashboard Confessional, Coheed and Cambria, Paramore and Death Cab for Cutie. I don’t like Dashboard, I’m indifferent to Paramore, but I listened to a ton of Coheed/Death Cab in my 20s. It was enough to get me to leave the cosy confines of home. I ransacked my girlfriend’s makeup collection to get black eyeliner. I was a theatre kid, I’ve used eyeliner pencil before. However, the only black eyeliner she had was liquid eyeliner and I was way out of my depth. It looked like trash. My hand wasn’t steady enough and I had zero idea what I was doing. With the experiment considered a failure, I wiped it all off and left the house.

The gig was fun. I had no interest in seeing the Dashboard set, but I did need to get there early to grab one of the few remaining tickets. I bought my ticket, then peeled off to a craft beer bar for a few pints. By the time I returned, the Coheed set was just about to begin. They had a female lead singer, and she totally killed it. Claudio Sanchez (the Coheed lead singer) has a very distinct voice, and she nailed it to a T. I’d seen Coheed at my last ever Kool Haus gig (before the venue was tragically shut down), and their set brought back fun memories. Some dude behind me lost his shit and sang along to every line. It was swell. I skipped most of Paramore to get another beer, but profusely enjoyed hearing Death Cab songs again. This time, I was the dude losing my shit and singing along to every line. The whole tribute thing was neat. I know there are a bunch of bands who do it around town (there’s Radiohead, Tool and Rage Against The Machine at least), so maybe I should be heading out to more of them. It wouldn’t kill me to leave the house once in a while.

But not tonight. Tonight is for me, a rack of ribs and an internet full of possibilities.

Hāere mai, whakarongo mai

Yesterday was Waitangi Day, which is basically a clusterfuck of colonial fuckery, but a little more than that. It’s in many ways the birthday of modern New Zealand, so I usually make a point of posting New Zealand music.

I forgot, so today I’m gonna post some Kiwi tunes. It’s probably something I’ve done here many times over, and I’ll likely post some double ups of previous times. If it means good tracks are spreading to new audiences, worth it.

  • Starting with Villainy. I don’t listen to much rock music these days, but these fellas have a soft spot in my heart. The lead guitarist is one of my favourite people in the world, a real sweet dude who’s uncomfortably multi-talented. I flatted with him for a few years. I think the band has had a bunch of NZ Music Awards by this stage, but this song is fun, has great singalong potential and a neat little music video. Villainy – Tiny Little Island.
  • The Ruby Suns are a cute indie band who’ve been around for what feels like an eternity. Their lead singer Ryan McPhun is part of a bunch of twee local acts, and I’ve always loved this song. It’s about Tane Mahuta, a colossal tree deemed Lord of the Forest. The Ruby Suns – Tane Mahuta.
  • The Mint Chicks are another local band done good. Their album Crazy? Yes! Dumb? No! was their turn at making grossly enjoyable pop. The title track is a blast. The Mint Chicks – Crazy? Yes! Dumb? No!:
  • Here’s Supergroove, one of my eternal favourites. An eclectic rap/funk collective from the early 90s. A lot of tongue in cheek interludes, fun in abundance. Supergroove – Can’t Get Enough.
  • Goodshirt was one of these bands that emerged from the early 2000s NZ Music boom. The government started pumping tons of money into promoting the industry, mandatory quotas, etc. This song is swell, a track for quiet summer days. The video is also super high concept. Goodshirt – Sophie.
  • Chris Knox was a close personal friend of Jeff Mangum, and spent a lot of time with him in the wake of his breakdown. Knox passed away years back, but he was an utterly gorgeous songwriter. If I ever get married, this would probably be my pick for first dance. Chris Knox – Not Given Lightly.
  • Fun weird fact, did y’all know Lorde used to surf /b? I remember back in 2012 or so, she posted this song asking if it was any good. I loved it, and a while later when Royals came out I was like “oh, it’s that Kiwi gal from 4chan”. Anyway, I always thought this song was pretty sweet. Lorde – Love Club.
  • Tiki Taane is a renown NZ MC known from his work as a frontman for Salmonella Dub. He’s also had a celebrated solo career, and this track from his 2007 solo debut was fierce as fuck. Tiki Taane – TAGNAROA – God Of The Sea.
  • Che Fu I think started out back in Supergroove (as seen/heard above) but really came into his own as a singer/songwriter. He has this resonant, lovely voice and it’s in full force on “Waka”. Che Fu – Waka.
  • This track is from a rap collective called Home Brew Crew. The album is fucking fantastic, some good ol’ conscious hip hop that doesn’t shy away from the dark kinda stuff. Home Brew – Alcoholic.
  • Having been away for a while, I don’t know that much modern stuff. This 2015 album, however, was top notch. A couple of Kiwi musician friends went away for a weekend and put together some jams. Big Glass Animals kinda vibe. LEISURE – Got It Bad.
  • This whole list would be remiss without Crowded House. I’m sure y’all know Don’t Dream It’s Over, even if you don’t think you do. Neil and Tim Finn are kind of peak NZ Music royalty, from their groundbreaking weird shit they did back with Split Enz way back when. This song is both very pretty and slightly menacing. I love love love it to bits. Crowded House – Private Universe.
  • Blerta – Dance All Around The World has a special place in my heart. It’s goofy and 70s H.R. Pufnstuf aesthetic personified. It even has a dumb little spoken word monologue about a prince learning about the beauty of the world outside the castle. It’s kooky as shit. Blerta – Dance All Around The World.
  • This is the quintessential Kiwi rock festival song. It’s great memories all the way down for me. Shihad never quite caught on in the US, but they’re a phenomenal live act that deserved far more than they got. This song is a fucking treasure. Shihad – Home Again.
  • Steriogram were kind of a big deal after this video (dir Michel Gondry) got nominated for a Grammy (which it entirely unjustifiably lost to U2’s fucking Elevation). They stagnated and fell apart afterwards. One of my friends worked in Momofuku when she first moved to NYC, and one of the band member was washing dishes. He was mortified to meet another New Zealander. Kind of sad, really. Steriogram – Walkie Talkie Man.
  • I knew this gal back in high school. Very talented, super nice person. She got picked up by Sony, they couldn’t quite figure out how to market her and dropped her like a ton of bricks. Was kinda shitty. This song was super twee and cute though. Zowie – Broken Machine.
  • NZ can do metal tooooo. Always liked this eponymous jam from 8 Foot Sativa. Still stomps. 8 Foot Sativa – 8 Foot Sativa.
  • Deja Voodoo were the “house band” for Back of the Y, a super weird gem of a local TV show. A cross between skits and public access kinda stuff. They couldn’t actually play instruments, they were just dubbed over. Eventually they decided to learn music and make a real band. This song was written from one of our Big Day Out concerts, after one of them accidentally took a beer from stage mates Something For Kate’s cooler (the two stages were side by side. Honest mistake), they got a stern talking to from the band’s manager and wrote this song as a rebuttal. Deja Voodoo – Beers.
  • The Veils are a longtime fave. Super evocative and poetic, downright spooky at times. Their album Nux Vomica is superb, but this song from 2016 release Total Depravity draws a very clean line from Nick Cave inspiration. It’s rad and a half. Very dense. The Veils – King of Chrome.

Happy listening, whanau.

Sleep is for the week

Let’s get this done.

I don’t have anything in the chamber, but that’s not gonna stop me. I’ve spent the past few hours re-opening and closing the same tabs in my browser. I don’t know when I forgot how to explore the internet, but at some stage I must’ve lost track of sites outside of The AV Club, Facebook, Vulture, Vox, Twitch, and any number of Magic the Gathering sites. The internet is a behemoth and there’s surely more to it than that handful of locations. There’s so much I could be learning, so many classic Nic Cage scenes I could be watching. Hell, I could be listening to the back catalogue of every one hit wonder artist/band that comes to mind. Just think, within the past few hours I had the opportunity to rotate not only Ace of Base’s 1992 release Happy Nation AND Lou Bega’s timeless 1999 debut A Little Bit of Mambo (which was a chart topper in Austria, Canada, Finland, France and Switzerland. Egads). What a waste.

After having “gone hard” over the weekend, I’m determined to take it easy tonight. I managed to be in bed by midnight last night, which was easier than expected, considering I was basically dead on my feet. Still, my body awoke unreplenished, desiring more recovery than ample rest could give. I need to amplify my ample rest and let my body figure out what normalcy is again. Today I’m physically tired, mentally foggy and cold. I’d think I was going through withdrawal, if not for the knowledge of how poorly I ate and drank over the past few days.

Being cold sucks, especially since Toronto’s temperature has been boosted into positive digits. It’s supposedly 11 degrees outside, but I’m literally chilling in the office. Because it was so warm today, I brought only my jacket, with no sweater layer. Now the rampant air conditioning has left me frosty, bare arms baring the brunt of my lack of good planning. It’s times like this I miss the snuggie I used to own purely for studio work. It was air conditioned, and my front/arms were often left untended. A snuggie was uniquely suited to my particular needs, and right now that wearable blanket would hit the spot perfectly.

My eclectic costume for Saturday’s Cage party reminded me that I own a tailcoat. I got it at a stage costume sale as part of a fill-a-bag promotion. It’s easy to forget that it’s a piece I have, because I so rarely have a viable opportunity for its use. Donning it for Saturday’s event made me realise that it’s less about having the chance to wear a tailcoat, and more about making excuses to wear it. I don’t need to go full formal. A tailcoat gives me the allure of class, of which I have very little. The best thing about a tailcoat, I realised, is that it’s basically a long blazer that also lets you access your pockets. Do you realise how much of my life I’ve wasted wearing open suit jackets, bent backwards to get at my pockets and appear nonchalant? I couldn’t quantify it in actual minutes, but my frustration has been ample.

I could’ve been wearing my tailcoat this whole time. Best of all, since I got it for a minimal investment, it lets me be rough with an object of apparent value. How fucking cool would I look not giving a shit about my fancy apparel? I’d be fearlessness incarnate. I could be grabbing my tailcoat for a trip to the shops, picking up a coffee, out at dive bars, re-opening the same tabs in my browser, or listening to Lou Bega’s timeless 1999 debut A Little Bit of Mambo. I COULD BE DRESSED LIKE A GODDAMN MAGICIAN WHILE PLAYING MAGIC AT HOME. Don’t test me, I also own a costume top hat.

Fuck. I wish I had my tailcoat right now. That’d put an end to these chilly arms. Also maybe I’d be seen as someone worth of respect around here, rather than people accurately noticing how much of a feckless scumbag I am.

They’d be wrong, but only I’d know that.

s’now day like today.

It’s a Snow Day, so I’m getting lazy.

I’m at home with a mug o’ broth turned soup. I’m writing this in a half screen while mostly watching a Magic stream. It’s a snow day, I get to do what I want. Snow day didn’t mean a whole lot in the grand scheme of today. I got to leave work two hours early and went to the gym. Overall I guess it gave me my evening back. I dreamed of snow days as a kid. The idea of wagging school because of lots of cold, fluffy water seemed like a miracle. Rain never got cold enough back home. These days, a snow day means I can’t see Lake Ontario from my work (which sits right next to it). Today was basically a white out.

Soooo I’m being lazy here. I’ve been watching the stream and hardly writing at all. Oh man, buying kimchi the other day was a genius level IQ move. Now I can eat kimchi every time I’m home. Firstly, kimchi is delicious. Secondly, kimchi is very healthy. Thirdly, it doesn’t even need to be cooked. I can get right in there with a fork, spoon, or just my bare fucking hands. It’s a game changer, and I don’t know why I wasn’t this smart earlier. Sometimes you’re not ready, I guess.

I got around to watching the Fyre documentary. Egads it was satisfying. Firstly, it was interesting to see the depths to which that Billy McFarland would sink to make a quick buck. Always a scheme, one after another. At some level, despite how nefarious it all was, it was also impressive. I didn’t follow any of the influencer people, so the first I heard of Fyre Festival was when it all went down in flames. What a colossal clusterfuck. Basically orchestrating a massive exercise in fraud so he could live out a party lifestyle. I just wish we got to see more of young rich kids suffering. When it hit peak Lord of the Flies it was great, but why couldn’t we stay in those glorious moments for longer? Of course nobody really suffered too much, they were cheated and scammed, but nobody died. They just had to endure shitty sandwiches. It was a real shame that the island’s inhabitants bore the real brunt of McFarland’s ruse. I hope they get their justice. The thing that stuck with me, was how the underlying Fyre app wasn’t a bad idea. It looked like they were gonna pivot into a new evolution of it, but perhaps disrupting the system with an app like that could bring down concert costs. Bah, who am I kidding? People will ever want to make a quick buck. Everyone knows that Ticketmaster are scum, but nothing has and will be done. We’re stuck with this system until some revolution comes our way.

Y’know, it’s still a snow day and I’m still feeling lazy. I think it’s time I call this entry done and get back to my night. I’ve got so much kimchi to eat and snow little time.

Don’t think too hard, it actually didn’t make sense. Bye bye.