Downtown Trip

Yesterday, I went downtown with Guy that calls me Not Chester (Wes) to meet up w/ Kina and Alex, who were at UofT. Me and Wes ended getting there an hour late (crappy weather to blame and dumb train schedules) and ended up walking around for abt an hour looking for the two girls. Eventually we ended up on a street corner, trying to decide whether to ditch them and go shopping, or just keep looking...

Me: "So, should we just go?"
Wes: "I don't know, I guess. I still need to shop for Chris and Nina..."
Me: (Looking off into the distance) "Hang on, who's that? Is that them?"
Wes: "No. I don't know."
Me: "Uh... just stand around here, until they get closer. Try not to look retarded."
Wes: "Okay..."
Me: "I already feel stupid."

We stood there, seriously, for like, 2 minutes. We were staring at these two people (indirectly), and they were staring back... I was just shuffling my feet, trying not to look too awkward/freaky/retarded. So, of course, it was them, and they beat us up for making them wait "Half a freakin' hour!!!"


We ended up hanging out at Kina's res. In my own words, "Small, shaped like a trapezoid, like one of those stupid columns we saw that are supposed to look straight from 'perspective,' AKA some builder fucked up." It wasn't too bad, except everything was at an awkward angle, like Michael Jackson's face.




Then the two girls subjected Wes to terrible tortures of the hair. I felt so bad for the poor dude (but it didn't stop me from laughing my ass off).



Oh gawd! The horror! What is that? Whipped cream? Marshmallows? A mushroom?!



Ignore me watching in the background.
I thought it made a marked improvement:



ELLEN!!!

So then after that, we headed down to the Eaton's Center for lunch. It was an amusing experience, to say the least.



Apparently, my snot makes an awesome dipping sauce. Maybe I should market it under my own brand name: Justin's nosemade dipping sauce, comes in 3 colors. Warning: Made cause uncontrolled vomiting.

Shopping afterwards was just as amusing.



Store owner: "Are you buying that for yourself?"
Me: "Yes, it makes me feel pretty."



Excuse the camera blur. I was enjoying myself a little too much.



The girls decided to complete Wes' makeover with a new outfit. I have to say, I don't swing that way, but that's a very pretty skirt.



More Disney-porn. But you know, the real Eeyore would never do that... maybe that's why he's so depressed.



We also decided to go to Nathan Phillips Square. It was a little crowded, so we retreated to a little field in the middle of nowhere.






Needless to say, it was retardedly fun.




I also caught us lunch. Almost. The damn squirrel wouldn't go for the bait.

We ended up shopping almost all day. I picked up a few vintage shirts and a hoodie (Candy tank!), as well as a bunch of memories to keep until the next time.

Hopefully I'll get that squirrel one day.



DAMMIT!

SNOW DAY! This is the height of awesomeness; it feels I've reached my weight goals, finished my homework, and my physics teacher died!

So yeah, today I found out I'm a big dork and most likely the laziest person ever.

I haven't finished my physics homework, I'm slacking off by watching youtube vids right now, and I still get excited over Kinder Surprise eggs. I have a collection of stupid toys on my windowsill, but I'm too lazy to put them in a box or something... Maybe I'll leave them there as a 'testament to my childhood' or something poetic like that... or maybe I'll donate them to some of my friends who never seem to grow up.

Anyways, yeah, I got my writing skill back. A few days ago I was completely out of it, had this huge mental block, and couldn't do shit, including talk to anyone. So I just went out at like, 1 AM and got in round about 4, which was actually a good thing because I had some time to just get things in order. Life here has been pretty confusing to say the least; I feel like I'm on LCD 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time I can't walk straight. Needless to say, writing and thinking has become a chore.

So I've gone back to writing, mostly on the Board. It's weird how so many people are having ideas to write books and novel and crap like that, but not many people stick with it. Personally, I don't think I could ever write on demand. It's hard, for one thing, like swallowing an orange, and on top of that, you're pretty much screwed if the book fails, so it's a huge risk. I'm just going to stick with posting and short stories, and maybe one day I'll have the balls to go out and sell whatever crap I've spewed from my head. Until then... no.

I haven't moved for like, 4 hours. I started to play FFVII... BR... even WC3, after a long hiatus from gaming. I don't find it that engaging anymore. Sure, I mean, they're still fun, but I just have this sense that I'm wasting my time. I'm on Facebook 40% of my day anyways, and my homework is piling up. I haven't even bought my textbooks for Chrissake, so maybe I'd better get on that soon...

Yes I'm rambling, but it's 1:23 AM and I have an early class tomorrow. Hop to it, you fucker.

Make your excuses to the dead,
I'm down in the dumps.
I feel so tired,
And so alone,
And just sort of pathetic, you know?
I hear some mental asylums are pretty nice.
You can get maid service,
Porn on demand,
Cause, you know,
The crazies need stuff like that...
Didja hear about David Beckham?
He's getting 250 million for playing for five years?
250 million...
That could cure homelessness in a country.
That much money could solve most of the world's problems.
Find a cure for AIDS... or cancer...
Maybe we should stick all those managers in the crazy house eh?
So we've established soccer > life...
What else can I say?
I walk around the streets sometimes...
And me being me, lol,
Well, let's say I see a lot of people in the crazy house.
Whether they know it or not...
And now, we got people crying about school,
About friends and family,
And every damn thing.
I remember, in books and stories,
Back then,
When people didn't cry as much,
And their tears wouldn't water their hands.
It seems just like a legend now,
A time past,
When women could walk freely
Without fear of rape,
And children could play until dusk,
And people could breathe clean air,
And abortion wasn't needed,
Because people were responsible.
250 million...
You know, money is really the root of evil.
It has corrupted us,
It has turned us against each other,
It has made us irresponsible...
But anyways,
Not my place to judge, I'm not exactly
Perfect.
Back in the day,
When slavery wasn't there,
When racism never existed...
Where man was created equal,
And discrimination was
A foreign concept.
Odd, isn't it then?
If we were to plot a graph of our decline,
In a year, we're going to die.
Sorry about the math interjection.
But looking back...
When did we lose so much faith?
When did man turn into monster?
When did people become a plague?
I fear tomorrow,
Because I have seen today,
But love yesterday.

I'm not famous.

I'm not an artist,
Or a dancer,
A model,
An actor,
I'm just one of the many people
Standing in a sea of people.
I'm not a leader,
Or a follower.
I don't listen very well,
And maybe I talk too much sometimes.
I can be selfish,
And at other times, generous.
I can be enigmatic,
Confusing,
And yes, a little weird.
Okay, a LOT weird.
But no, I'm not anyone important.
My parents seem to think I'm awfully special.
But to the rest of the world,
I don't exist.
I haven't ever had my 15 seconds of fame.
And I have never been on TV,
And the only time I've been on stage
Is in school plays,
Which I always played an embarrassing role.
The only runway I've been on
Is at the airport,
And the only time I ever dance,
Is in my dreams.
So yes, I'm not anyone you should worry about.
There's not really a point
In getting to know me.
But if you have time,
Sit down here, next to me,
And maybe we can talk.
Cause I might not be anyone,
But I'm someone.
I'm me.
And isn't that all that matters?