Huh?!

Apparently

"Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo"

is an actual grammatically correct sentence.

Apparently the phrase stated does have nouns, proper pronouns, and verbs; and when restated can also sound as such,

"Bison from upstate New York who are intimidated by other bison in their community also happen to intimidate other bison in their community."


Buffalo .. huh. Should I mention that my family's maiden name is Buffalo?

Whats a native to do?

Secret #3

I LOVE MOVIES!!!! And I don't think I can stress that enough. I ... LOVE ... MOVIES.

Always have, ever since I was a wee kid laying at the top of the staircase watching the movie my parents were watching (not porn, you sicko) when I was supposed to be asleep. I grew up with HBO's movie central; which was very rare back home since HBO was an American Channel and I am obviously Canadian.

My parents, back in my childhood days, had the satellite that was so massive it took up the entire backyard. I was a country kid, so it was a big yard anyways; we had the space.

And my obsession grew and carried on well into my high school years when friends and I would plan trips to the city just to watch the latest blockbuster at multiplexes. Even in my last year of highschool, when all my friends were already in college (or moving on with life after highschool), I would travel to the nearest city where friends had moved too and we would have a movie night out, the bunch of us sitting in front of a small tv with munchies in hand, laying on the floor with blankets spread out and pillows as head and back rests. Those were the days.

Even to this day, when I travel back home, conversation always turns to, at some point or other, "Have you seen blah blah blah yet?"

I still love movies. I even took film history in college. Hell, I'm even planning on going to Vancouver Film School and checking out the school while I'm at Vancouver Pride this year.

My obsession for movies kind of sucks right now, cause right now I have no one to watch movies with.

Once before, Never since

And so, I put it back in my pocket, realising that since then I really hadn't seen the magnificent artwork I had seen on that island coast.

But the smell of salty water and the texture of warm breezes haunts me. Gettin smaller with time its punch to the gut has turned to a prick of a needle, but still there to remind me of the vast canvas of life painted by the distant artist.

Perhaps its a moment that I will never get back, like a speck of dust meeting the ocean. It is a moment, buried beneath the life that occured after its existence.

But its still a moment that is mine.

A Distant Artist

And there I stood, a warm salty breeze brushing against my face as I gazed off into the orange, red and grey painted clouds over the horizon. It was breezy, but still warm. As other tourists awed at the sight of turtles amidst the shore waters behind me, I stayed fixated on the ocean meeting the sky. How I so wanted to go there; to the end of the world to meet the one painting the canvas called life; to discover the inspirations behind it all. How I so wanted to be lifted from where I stood and feel the comfort of the pillowy clouds above me; to be consumed whole by them all.

And I waited, feeling as if I was seconds away from it happening.

I closed my eyes, and let myself go at the rythym of crashing waves against island rock. How I wanted to keep that moment; to take it and put it in my pocket so that on any other day when I needed reminding of how beautiful the world is, I can take it out and look at it; so that I can be there again at moments notice.

And waves crashed in harmonic intervals as the wind passed my ears. Nature was playing its finest symphony just for me.

I opened my eyes. I opened my eyes to see that the clouds had changed, still beautiful in all its wonders, but still different. A new painting had begun to emerge, and I was swept away yet again.

This memory is in the pocket of my mind, it takes time to find it amongst the clutter of every day little papers; but its there. And there to sweep me away yet again.

Secret #2

I'm not a phone person. Never have been, and probably never will. While I have many friends both here in Calgary and back home, I don't always call them. And yet, I always wonder why I'm the "last to know".

I get to the point where I think about calling someone, and then thats it. I never actually pick up the phone and dial.

It kind of sucks, cause I have so many friends, most of which are awesome people and people I would like to hang out with, but that never happens. I end up doing the same old shit with the same people (who are cool too). I just crave variety.

Yuck

Someone hit skunk ... I drove through the aftermath.

Skunks stink.


..... I still smell it. .... I better not dream of skunks ... or weed.

The buck is passed

Ouch .. what a day. Work was crazy nuts today, one of my printers completely conked on us, and for a kitchen, thats bad. On the one printer that was working, orders were doubling up and entire bills were slit in two ... it was crazy. Especially when dinner rolled around followed by the obliged team rush. Fun Fun Fun.

Work ... I tell ya, its gettin harder and harder to walk through those doors. I had "heard" that upper management was talking about me behind my back. The managers all complaining that "I don't care". Figures, the minute the previous KM (kitchen manager) quit, the buck gets passed on to me. They all seem to forget what I put myself through to make it easier on them. The seem to have forgotten the 'favors' I've been doing and have been doing for months now.

I think what has pissed them off is that I've declined the Assistant Kitchen Manager position.

All I can say is excuse me for taking care of myself. The fact that this is now my fourth kitchen manager in the span of a year says alot. Its something I don't want, not with this kitchen. I don't mind added responsibility, but keep the title. Don't expect me to work massive amounts of overtime, especially since I won't be gettin paid the overtime hours (something thats against the law might I add).

Its odd, how they're talking of me not caring is actually making that statement true.

Secret #1

And so ... to overcome my writers block (and mainly to write something simple), I've decided to write what I've seen commonly on flickr and have seen on other blogs. The "Secret's" montage. (cue orchestrated music and rapid pic intervals)

It's simple, I can do it (with what little energy I have), and it challenging for me (thusly allowing me to choose what will be posted).

And right now ....

SECRET #1

I stop breathing while I sleep. Past bf's have said so. Who am I to argue with them?

Folsom

Ok, so I do NEED to post something. So why not some pics I've stumbled upon. Now here is somewhere I would REALLY love to go ...






More pics can be found at Folsom Street East 2007

Still here

RAWR! .. lol. I'm back .. I'm here.

I would have posted sooner, but really there is nothing to post.

Work is still a bitch, now they're asking me to close the restaurant one night so that I can open it the next day. It sucks ... I soo need a job.

But once I'm in writing mood again, I'll let y'all know.

Erased a post

Ok, so out of a drunken stupor last night, I've posted perhaps the most revealing post I've ever done. But, I was uncomfortable with it. I did not want anyone to know such things, most of all .. I did not want anyone to discover the most intimate details of my life simply because I drank and typed. A drunken blog post, isn't always fun to read.

Nah, instead, should I happen to be vocal about my past, I want to type it out coherently; without the aid of alcohol. Therefore, I erased it.

For those who got to read it, congrats ... I suppose. I really don't mind you knowing. Really I don't. And if you have something to say about it ... then by all means, say it. Perhaps I may need it.

The box

I think I've found out why I find myself in a box these days.

I've often found out that while I may be signed on messenger, and have numerous email addresses, and have phone numbers written on numerous small bits of paper, I really don't talk to anyone or engage in any type of dialogue. While at work I can be sarcastically witty with days events, on the verge of insulting even, there really is no qualitative dialogue. After work, I punch out, go home and sleep (due to exhaustion).

When the phone rings, its not for me. When an email arrives, its merely a chain letter or a responsive automatic email sent from an online community. All that don't offer person to person contact.

And for those I do chat with ... it sends me to a slump. I usually end up talking to people who are moving to Montreal for art school (good luck Scotty), or chat with an ex whose meeting his new beau's family in Ottawa (good luck BJ), or chat with an ex whose just met his perfect master (something he's always wanted that I don't think I can offer him). They all have something to say, something positive, something that indicates they are moving forward. Their news always make me feel stagnated, at a stand still.

Its not their fault of course, I'm happy that they're getting what they want. And I wish nothing but good things for them. I just wish something good would happen for me. Its been a long year and I'm just tired of things not going right.

Oh well, I'll figure this out I'm sure. Besides, its Pride weekend here in Calgary. Parade on sunday, in which I was asked to drive a convertible for it, but can't cause my liscence expired (damn liscence), and I'm buying my new mountain bike tomorrow. So far, thats my news ... how newsworthy in comparison to everything else, lol. But, its mine.

Happy Pride ya'll.

Now here's something I haven't done in awhile ...

You are The Wheel of Fortune

Good fortune and happiness but sometimes a species of
intoxication with success

The Wheel of Fortune is all about big things, luck, change, fortune. Almost always good fortune. You are lucky in all things that you do and happy with the things that come to you. Be careful that success does not go to your head however. Sometimes luck can change.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Awesome pics, Awesome Blog, Hot Dude

And so ... through flickr.com I've discovered a blog. Now, had I simply opened my eyes to profiles instead of merely oogling hot pics, I would have noticed. But, this guy's pics are AMAZING. Plus, he's hot. His own self portraits are fantastic.

Trust me, you'll love it. You can find more HERE!!

OR go to his blog called BLOG BLOG BLOGGITY BLOG (come to think of it, I've seen that title somewhere before.)

"Hi," I said desperately, " ... do I know you?"

His empty yet hoping eyes stared back at me, saying nothing in return. No friendly gesture, no blink of an eye. Nothing.

He looked heavy with burden, tired for such a young fellow. I wanted to stretch out my arms and at least offer a hug, but I soon felt such a gesture would be met with disrespect. It felt more comfortable to do nothing, and just stare at him.

"Are you okay," I had wanted to ask. But his eyes told me not too. His sullen demeanor spoke thousands of words that I could not comprehend, yet could still feel. Somehow I knew I must do nothing.

He seemed angry, tired, hurt ... all at the same time. Somehow I knew he had become a drone, a walking expressionless shell. The bags under his eyes told me so.

And so I put my toothbrush down, and when back to bed to sleep with my eyes wide open.

Tired

Its been months since I've felt rejuvenated in the morning. Its been a very long time since I actually wanted to awake for the day to come. Not one day passes by where all I want to do is sleep. Just to lay lifeless as the sun rises and sets, at times that is my wish. I'm just so tired.

Days come and pass, days where I feel lifeless. Days where I feel used. There are days where I'm angry at the world and everyone in it, and then there are days where I don't care; I'm a walking drone doing simply what has to be done.

I'm tired of work where I'm merely a chump; supposedly someone whose a part of management and yet the last person to know anything (if I'm lucky to know at all). I'm tired of being used to "boost employee morale" simply because I treat everyone else with respect and help them do they're job if they need it. I'm tired of being bought over with free meals and a booze tab to keep up my own morale; free tabs I don't use because I close the restaurant and can't stand being there beforehand. I'm tired of nightshifts in the same week as my morning shifts. I'm tired of feeling that if I do quit that I'd make it harder for the hardworking individuals in the same boat as I. Most of all, I'm tired of walking through the doors at the beginning of my shift and feeling even moreso tired at that moment than when I had first awaken for the day.

I'm tired of living in an apartment where I feel like a pet or a child. I'm tired of staying with a "b/f" where I don't feel that he is in my heart. Beleive it or not, I'm tired of being taken care of and slowly having my independence (as little as it was gettin) stripped away. I'm tired of being pestered when all I want is to be left alone. Most of all, I'm tired of the fuggin question "are you okay?".

I'm tired of ........... I'm just tired.

... there are really no words to describe what I consider the best picture I've seen ever ...


more works can be found HERE