"Anglo McAngloville"

Today I laughed a whole lot. Which is good, considering I spent last night surrounded by white skaters doing hiphop and grafitti who then call themselves underground because that's their fucking tag and their names on xvi are retarded quasi poetic plays on words which reveal their vain efforts to sound like an intellectual when, in all reality, they are just stoned, filthy bums who lost too many brian cells because of aerosol cans. Last night was no laughing matter.

Here's the funny of the day:
In the Eponym, my riding of Westmount-Ville-Marie was described as "That Place Andre Boisclair Wishes Would Be Annexed By Ontario."

Too fucking hilarious. Those wiggers wish they were that witty. Maybe if we ripped them away from their turntables long enough, they might have a chance.

Disclaimer:
I am not supporting the use of xvi.com by mentioning it here. It is an awful cesspool of so-called Ottawa scenesters and speed-addicted candy ravers who still believe that happy hard core is good music. Nor do I mean to offend the author of the Eponym by comparing him to the lame asses I was subjected to last night.

This week in Canadian Politics.

1. A crocodile is now running the country.
2. We have a cute, racially-integrated, left-wing couple in the House of Commons.
3. Scary white cowboy hats are now deemed acceptable garb while making decisions regarding the entire country.
4. Duceppe keeps his title of the Beady Eyed King of Quebec.
5. Paul Martin is no longer leading the Liberal party, but that's not news. He never did much leading at all. Ever.

In other news, Peter Mansbridge was drunk again during a CBC broadcast and This Hour Has 22 Minutes has crossed over to the dark side... convincing people to strategically vote.

As for the rest of the world, edible fish crackers are all over my floor and a guy standing next to me on the 105 impaled my thigh today with his raging hard-on. Consider yourselves up to date.

Dance monkey, dance!

I hate my campus bar for many reasons, and most of my hatred comes from how people react to my answer to everyone's favorite question... "What program are you in?"

"Do you know any Shakespeare?" No. I have been acting for nine years and have never heard of the guy.

"Are you famous?" Damn, you got me. I knew I should have wore my wig and shades to Reggie's. This is the best place in Montreal to celebrity watch.

"Okay, if you are an actor, pretend that a bunny hops in and here's the fun part... how would you react?" I had no idea that knowing how to react to a bunny in a bar separates actors from the rest of the population.

And it spiraled downwards from there until I finally said "If I am going to do a single trick for you, I better get a cookie."

Noone had a cookie so I left.

nothing compares to kraft dinner with hot sauce and ranch dressing in front of a tv that blurs the red backgrounds with faces so i get convinced that my very hot sauce from jamaica is spiked with acid and everything i am experiencing is any where close to that elusive realm called reality

nothing beats the million dollars of fines that i have accumulated with blockbuster and videotron from shitty movies i shouldn't have watched anyway but did out of my intense hatred for will smith will ferrell will whoever and all the other overpaid twits who headline all the movies

nothing rivals a hormonally fucked up me who somehow managed to fuck up her cycle to the point where everything hurt and i was convinced i was pregnant despite the last pregnancy scare which was actually just a major kidney infection from hell that sparked the need to get on the pill which was the precise reason of this month's fury and never ever again am i going to alter hormones again because the beast within should only be expressed in a character on stage and not all the fucking time for no justifiable reason

nothing is more humiliating than accepting the speckles of old crusty food that live permanently on my kitchen tiles that came from tenants of yore who loved belinda stronach and anarchy symbols and these tenants are the sole reason for my recent purchase of heavy duty cleaning supplies that are so noxious they verge on being acid

and that is my month to date

how is yours so far?

procastination for all!

This is killing me....
school better start soon before I start playing Sims again.