I've decided upon a new perspective: These next two months will be my longest stay in Uxbridge forevermore, and afterwards the constraints of Uxbridge-death living will never again afflict me. I will be free and no longer doomed.
Next summer I will either be studying with a University or I'll be slaving in a Territory doing, well, native-like stuff, I guess. The point is: Never again will Uxbridge hold me captive! I'm only a prisoner this summer so that the Chiropractor may treat me three times a week.
The summer is half over! And I don't appear to have any non-healing wounds from this town. This town is booming. I don't like booming towns, I like dying (Texan) towns!
Oh, and we're writing some new picture, Continuity, today. It'll be short as day. We'll shoot and edit it, which should take loads of time, and eliminate slow, Slurpee-free summer days. We'll purge the hard days.
If I'm as young as my dreams, and as old as my cynicism's, I best be finding the Fountain of Youth.
ONWARDS, CLEAR SAILING AHEAD.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Unpleasant dialogues, followed by a more personal epilogue
* I will be referred to as Hero.
An Auspicious Beginning
Owner (to manager): Is this the new kid?
(I put forth my cold hand for handshake).
Hero: Hi, I'm Bryan.
Manager (to owner): Yeah, that's him.
(Owner grabs my hand but refuses to shake).
Owner: (heartlessly) Good luck. (Quickly turns and leaves.)
Manager: Yeah, he's like that.
Pick Your Poison
Tobacco Man: Can I get, uh, De Maurier Light King Size? (cigarettes)
Hero: Sure (I struggle to find these. I must appear incompetent). Which one is that?
Tobacco Man: It's that one there, with the guy choking on the front.
Hero: Ah. This one?
Tobacco Man: No, no. That guy is wheezing. I want the choking guy!
Hero: Oh, oh, okay.
Irony Bells
Angry White Man: Ya know my (expletive) wife made me come all the (expletive(s)) way down here to buy some (expletive) cigarettes! (Expletives) I mean, she's (expletive) retarded.
(Car Passes)
Beat
Angry White Man: Wow! Will ya look at that? That's gotta be a 1940's Chevy. At least someone in the world has class.
I'm sorry, I'm not Kevin Costner
Shameless American Wannabe: I just got back from the field (baseball; not oil) and I hit a real whopper! Great sport, huh? You play ball?
Hero: No, I'm Canadian.
(Blank stare)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After slaving six days, and nearing death several times, I'm suffering post-working-six-days-after-extended-unemployment-period depression. I've needed solitary time to recharge my batteries. But my batteries are like no-name batts and my recharger is busted. It's on these blue, melancholic days I desire to trade places with Aung San Suu Kyi and be on my lonesome in some shelter structure surrounded by a military junta; suffering for democracy to improve living conditions. Of course Aung San Suu Kyi cannot scroll through itunes and find solace in The Format, or Jesus (not on itunes, obviously), because I think she's a Buddhist, but don't hold me to that. But you may hold me to this: Sometimes the most radiant, bright music won't lift your spirits.
An Auspicious Beginning
Owner (to manager): Is this the new kid?
(I put forth my cold hand for handshake).
Hero: Hi, I'm Bryan.
Manager (to owner): Yeah, that's him.
(Owner grabs my hand but refuses to shake).
Owner: (heartlessly) Good luck. (Quickly turns and leaves.)
Manager: Yeah, he's like that.
Pick Your Poison
Tobacco Man: Can I get, uh, De Maurier Light King Size? (cigarettes)
Hero: Sure (I struggle to find these. I must appear incompetent). Which one is that?
Tobacco Man: It's that one there, with the guy choking on the front.
Hero: Ah. This one?
Tobacco Man: No, no. That guy is wheezing. I want the choking guy!
Hero: Oh, oh, okay.
Irony Bells
Angry White Man: Ya know my (expletive) wife made me come all the (expletive(s)) way down here to buy some (expletive) cigarettes! (Expletives) I mean, she's (expletive) retarded.
(Car Passes)
Beat
Angry White Man: Wow! Will ya look at that? That's gotta be a 1940's Chevy. At least someone in the world has class.
I'm sorry, I'm not Kevin Costner
Shameless American Wannabe: I just got back from the field (baseball; not oil) and I hit a real whopper! Great sport, huh? You play ball?
Hero: No, I'm Canadian.
(Blank stare)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After slaving six days, and nearing death several times, I'm suffering post-working-six-days-after-extended-unemployment-period depression. I've needed solitary time to recharge my batteries. But my batteries are like no-name batts and my recharger is busted. It's on these blue, melancholic days I desire to trade places with Aung San Suu Kyi and be on my lonesome in some shelter structure surrounded by a military junta; suffering for democracy to improve living conditions. Of course Aung San Suu Kyi cannot scroll through itunes and find solace in The Format, or Jesus (not on itunes, obviously), because I think she's a Buddhist, but don't hold me to that. But you may hold me to this: Sometimes the most radiant, bright music won't lift your spirits.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A Day In The Life
Shell doings:
First let me note: I AM SO BLOODY AFFABLE; IT'S SICKENING. I don't know how I do it.
Aight. Now, Shell doings:
First and foremost, I give sound directions, even if I'm not certain of the desired destination. Then there's loads of other menial tasks that won't interest you. So, we'll skip to the creme of the Oreo: Emergency situations.
Sometimes construction workers drill into power lines and we're left in the dark. Because making a sign is reckoned counter-productive, I loiter by the pumps and yell, "We aints gots no power!" To which the customer responds, "Oh, but do ya's still have gas?" To which I reply, "We gots plenty of gas-o-line sir, but we gots no means to bring her up from that there ground."
This is an unpleasant surprise to (apparently daffy) customers causing them to curse and speed off (but probably not far causes they gots no gas-o-line).
But wait, why am I speaking in hick dialect? There's a simple answer. About two years ago I went through I stage - a dying, dusty '50's Texan town stage. I read and viewed The Last Picture Show, Texasville, and Duane's Depressed. For the record, I quite enjoyed this stage; I even believe I coined the term 'gooder' around this time to express my satisfaction. Anywhoers, since the most common cause of Texan town death is a dry tap, now, being employed by the oil industry rekindles my fancy with Texan depression (of course the States now rely on foreign oil.) So, I'm carelessly sweeping dust around the battered ol' station just like Sonny and Duane, sipping Cola talkin' 'bout our lousy football team; 0-7 this year. Then some pretty thing passes in her red Mercedes convertible. It's her - Jacy Farrow - the prettiest girl in town, and the only one worth pursuing.
Ah, what a pleasant fiction; probably best left a fairy tale, otherwise the ensuing depression would lead to an undesired Hunter S. Thompson-like bullet to the head. But hey, at least I'd get Johnny Depp to finance my ashes being blown from some canon. That's class.
First let me note: I AM SO BLOODY AFFABLE; IT'S SICKENING. I don't know how I do it.
Aight. Now, Shell doings:
First and foremost, I give sound directions, even if I'm not certain of the desired destination. Then there's loads of other menial tasks that won't interest you. So, we'll skip to the creme of the Oreo: Emergency situations.
Sometimes construction workers drill into power lines and we're left in the dark. Because making a sign is reckoned counter-productive, I loiter by the pumps and yell, "We aints gots no power!" To which the customer responds, "Oh, but do ya's still have gas?" To which I reply, "We gots plenty of gas-o-line sir, but we gots no means to bring her up from that there ground."
This is an unpleasant surprise to (apparently daffy) customers causing them to curse and speed off (but probably not far causes they gots no gas-o-line).
But wait, why am I speaking in hick dialect? There's a simple answer. About two years ago I went through I stage - a dying, dusty '50's Texan town stage. I read and viewed The Last Picture Show, Texasville, and Duane's Depressed. For the record, I quite enjoyed this stage; I even believe I coined the term 'gooder' around this time to express my satisfaction. Anywhoers, since the most common cause of Texan town death is a dry tap, now, being employed by the oil industry rekindles my fancy with Texan depression (of course the States now rely on foreign oil.) So, I'm carelessly sweeping dust around the battered ol' station just like Sonny and Duane, sipping Cola talkin' 'bout our lousy football team; 0-7 this year. Then some pretty thing passes in her red Mercedes convertible. It's her - Jacy Farrow - the prettiest girl in town, and the only one worth pursuing.
Ah, what a pleasant fiction; probably best left a fairy tale, otherwise the ensuing depression would lead to an undesired Hunter S. Thompson-like bullet to the head. But hey, at least I'd get Johnny Depp to finance my ashes being blown from some canon. That's class.
Monday, June 11, 2007
New Enterprises
After an epic battle with East Side Mario's, I've decided to secure proper employment from a caring employer who will value me. Thus, I officially commence work within the oil/gasoline industry tomorrow. The grand corporation of Shell has delegated all sorts of responsibility my way. I begin as a lowly, grossly underpaid cash man. I basically control the money coming in and out of the business. I suppose it's an administrative position (I'm sorry. I try to be modest).
Let's view some jammed informational nuggets about Shell:
We're based in the free and wonderfully capitalist country of the United States of America.
We're an affiliate of Royal Dutch Shell - a MULTINATIONAL oil company. We are one of America's (and probably Canada, but Canadian statistics are meaningless) leading oil/natural gas, and petrochemical manufacturers! My potential is untapped; the American dream is within reach!
UH OH! There are some criticisms:
"Friends of the Earth" claims that damaged produced by OUR drilling could be something of 20 billion dollars to local communities/wider environment; however, due to their amateur, hippie sounding name, they have lost credibility.
In 2005, we netted a sweet profit of 26 billion dollars. Some consider us profiteers (especially those annoying environment friendly groups). I figure we could pay off those green peace lovers with a mere billion of our profit. I'm surprised pay offs aren't already in the budget. I'll speak the president about this. But I think he's located in Texas. I'll sure he visits the station every once in a while, I'll see him then.
Other minor criticisms:
We may of supported the Apartheid regime in South Africa by pursuing opportunities there.
We tend to spill oil and ruin some habitats.
We broke the US Clean Air Act. (That's ironic. Everyone knows the US don't give a hoot 'bout the environment).
Some infringement thing (we're frequently sued).
Chemical pollutants, pipeline ruptures, water contamination, employed evil Vietnamese people during the war, we charged a Nigerian anti-oil activist with treason and executed him, the police slaughtered eighty more people and destroyed more homes when we asked for police protection from a peaceful protest; some board banned us from investing in Darfur (something to do with genocide), we screwed over some Japs back in '93, tried to screw over people looking for retirement money in Malaysia, we strongly desire a pipeline in Ireland, which we claim the locals desire, we're developing a gas field in Iran despite their radical government, we desire to destroy Alaskan lands 'cause we gots to get that oil; faulty health and safety record, and lastly (because I am tired), CONVENIENTLY the United States destroyed the hell out of Iraq so that we may take over their oil supply.
Other than that, I am proud to be a Shell employee.
Let's view some jammed informational nuggets about Shell:
We're based in the free and wonderfully capitalist country of the United States of America.
We're an affiliate of Royal Dutch Shell - a MULTINATIONAL oil company. We are one of America's (and probably Canada, but Canadian statistics are meaningless) leading oil/natural gas, and petrochemical manufacturers! My potential is untapped; the American dream is within reach!
UH OH! There are some criticisms:
"Friends of the Earth" claims that damaged produced by OUR drilling could be something of 20 billion dollars to local communities/wider environment; however, due to their amateur, hippie sounding name, they have lost credibility.
In 2005, we netted a sweet profit of 26 billion dollars. Some consider us profiteers (especially those annoying environment friendly groups). I figure we could pay off those green peace lovers with a mere billion of our profit. I'm surprised pay offs aren't already in the budget. I'll speak the president about this. But I think he's located in Texas. I'll sure he visits the station every once in a while, I'll see him then.
Other minor criticisms:
We may of supported the Apartheid regime in South Africa by pursuing opportunities there.
We tend to spill oil and ruin some habitats.
We broke the US Clean Air Act. (That's ironic. Everyone knows the US don't give a hoot 'bout the environment).
Some infringement thing (we're frequently sued).
Chemical pollutants, pipeline ruptures, water contamination, employed evil Vietnamese people during the war, we charged a Nigerian anti-oil activist with treason and executed him, the police slaughtered eighty more people and destroyed more homes when we asked for police protection from a peaceful protest; some board banned us from investing in Darfur (something to do with genocide), we screwed over some Japs back in '93, tried to screw over people looking for retirement money in Malaysia, we strongly desire a pipeline in Ireland, which we claim the locals desire, we're developing a gas field in Iran despite their radical government, we desire to destroy Alaskan lands 'cause we gots to get that oil; faulty health and safety record, and lastly (because I am tired), CONVENIENTLY the United States destroyed the hell out of Iraq so that we may take over their oil supply.
Other than that, I am proud to be a Shell employee.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Loney, dear
On Sunday I had the royal privilege of viewing Toronto get blasted by a Swedish shit-storm of Loney, dear. Emil Svanängen's progressive mini pop symphonies straddle melancholy and euphoria, with orchestrated climaxes that would emotionally affect an unfeeling robot.
Emil's forlorn falsetto embodies immaculate synergy with the quaint, melodic keys filling the air with a new form of oxygen. The heavens must have Loney, dear pouring out infinitely to provide a joy that far too many Earth dwellers will be deprived of.
Emil's forlorn falsetto embodies immaculate synergy with the quaint, melodic keys filling the air with a new form of oxygen. The heavens must have Loney, dear pouring out infinitely to provide a joy that far too many Earth dwellers will be deprived of.
I spoke to him: "(Mumble, mumble) ...wonderful (mumble mumble)."
He was more than kind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
