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December 30, 2007

graveyard of the unborn

Standing fully-clothed in the doorway, I pause for a moment to take in the scene of the crime.

The evidence speaks from a bedroom floor punctuated by latex commas. Torn off in the heat of passion and flung to the side. Or stripped languidly away, tied in a knot and slingshotted across the room--it would appear our suspect is a cocky bastard.

Is it a gentleman’s duty to clean up all the used condoms and wrappers from a lady’s bedroom floor?

Not necessarily. It’s the same as with any other mess. First you have to tell me where you want me to put it.

December 15, 2007

mmm... pineapple

This morning I emerged squinting into the 11am sunshine. Still a little woozy. Feeling good. This town is so familiar and yet I had nowhere to go. There was a bag of fruit left over from last night's fondue for two. So at least I wouldn't starve.

On Robie Street I saw a former lover from years gone by. She shouted her phone number to me as the bus whisked her away.

I'm so glad you're checking this site right now... after all this time. It's a good sign. It means you're thinking about me. I'm thinking about you too.

Just an update, I'm still living out in the woods in Gaspereau Forks and I'm a hermit and I don't have telephone or Internet out at my place. So I'm not writing on the web much lately. I love the country. I do get out a lot and play a lot of shows and even though I've been turning into somewhat of an introvert lately... the adventure continues.

I started a Facebook group for Hot Action. I haven't posted anything there yet, but I will. Right now there are three members in the group. That's cool. I'd rather write for three people I can see than three thousand people I can't. Yes, that's a big fuck-you, anonymous faceless Internet masses!

OK I'm on wireless at someone's house in Halifax. Right now I gotta leave to go get fed sushi by a fucking fox.