It's All In The Jersey, Baby

So here I am, getting off a long day of work, and I'm ready to unwind. Of course, this means getting out of my business casual threads, and into my exponentially more comfortable pajama pants and Flyers jersey.

Anyway, hunger pangs creep in, so I opt for a quick bowl of Kraft Dinner. Now, I don't know how often you consume this fine meal, but I sure as shit survive on it some days. Regardless, they're running a contest, wherein you go to the website (www.shoottowin.ca), enter your special code from specially marked products, and play a little game. It breaks down like this: you pick which goalie you want to face, then the target, type of shot and position. It's all a cute distraction from the fact that you're not winning a damn thing, but it kills the time while your KD cooks, so I do so whenever I'm cooking it.

Anyway, a few minutes ago, I decided to face Ed Belfour, aim my shot under the arm blocker side with a slapper from the right. It's all academic, as inevitably he makes a "spectacular " save, and I don't get shit. Except tonight, I blasted that fucker by him. I was like, "Huh? That wasn't supposed to happen." Then I got excited, as a fantastic prize could await me, should I know the answer to their grade 2 level skill testing question.

This is a lot of build up to tell you I won a $5 face tattoo of a random NHL team, isn't it? Let's just hope irony doesn't smack me upside the head, and that they don't send me a tat of the Leafs. The funny part is, though (aside from the totally whack fact that you can't pick what team you get), the fact that it's going to take between TWELVE and SIXTEEN weeks for the fucking thing to show up in my mailbox! By that time, hockey season is way the fuck over. Oh well... there's always next year, as they say.

Tattered Pride
Written January 2004

The majority of people, if you ask them, would tell you that they are not racist or homophobic. With that said, I find it amazing that, when people considered "minorities", or those of "alternative" sexual preferences wish to make choices for their own betterment and advancement (that have no effect on us as self-proclaimed "normal" people), all of a sudden it's a national fucking crisis of "morality". Imagine being told who you can or cannot marry, or being beaten to death over what you do in the privacy of your bedroom. Show me a man who says we've come a long way since the days of sending blacks to the back of the bus, and I'll show you someone who's full of shit.

I've known plenty of people in my life thus far who have been of other races or sexual preferences. I have never wanted to tie one of them to the tailgate of a truck and drag them down the street, nor have I felt the desire to dictate whether or not they can legally spend their lives with someone they loved, because they are still PEOPLE. The sooner we realize this, and grant EVERYONE the same set of basic human rights, the sooner we can move forward as a human race.

(Chorus)
Half dead at the gates, we heard your broken breathing
We thought you'd been shot, but looks can be deceiving
You were coming apart from the inside
Some kind of supplanted suicide

The television ticker creeps with uncertainty
Telephone trials and nation-wide emergencies
Now they're calling off the dogs
They whimpered and winced at the thought
No one's gonna crack the firecracker mystery
The bombs are gonna fall with funeral intensity
No use climbing up the walls
There's no more home at all

You threw your hands up, now
Put the gas on high and struck a match
But no one noticed the explosion
You were exploding

Repeat chorus

The question arises, who's gonna trust you?
The only ones talking ae the ones who have fucked you
The congress hushes as the zippers drop
Oh, it just never stops

You threw your hands up, now
Got down on your knees and opened wide
But no one knew that, in your own way
You were exploding

Repeat chorus

Take off your tattered pride
Dust it off and hold it high
"If everyone else is alive, then why aren't I?"
Believing's not a crime
Show no shame, you'll do no time
"If everyone else can be fine, then why can't I?"

Everyone deserves some respect
Everyone deserves some respect
Everyone deserves some respect
Everyone deserves some respect
Respect
Respect
Respect
Respect
Respect
Respect
Respect

RESPECT.

Designer Thorns
Written March 26, 2004

Sometimes, you just wish that the foretold second coming of Jesus Christ was something other than a marketing tool, used to instill fear into the impressionable and finance the mult-billion dollar juggernaut that is Religion, Inc. One needs look no further than the success of a recent "biblical epic" (scare tactic) at the theatres. Indeed, sometimes you wish that the stories you heard in Sunday school were all true, and that good ol' JC was just watching us pathetic creations wander about aimlessly, waiting for the right moment to pounce...

I'm getting tired of my mallcore generation
Flat out refusing to think for ourselves
Our hobbies these days include MTV and masturbation
Too blind to see we're on a collision course with hell

Hey, it's getting hot in here
Would you mind, would you mind if I took off these shackles?

Jesus! Don't fail me now
The time has come for smiting
You can show 'em holes in your hands
But nobody's biting
Nobody's biting

Another day, another war, we're so damn predictable
And all us sinners caught in the corporate shrapnel blast
Lives dictated by brand names, it's gotten so despicable
A never ending ad campaign trail that leads to our last mass

Hey, answer a prayer or two
Would you mind, would you mind maybe wiping this plague out?

Jesus! Don't bail on me now
We need the final sighting
Crown of designer thorns and some wrath
It's all in the timing
Strike while they're buying

There's never been a better time for revenge...

It Hasn't Been Two Weeks Yet, But...

For those of you who still give a flying fuck, here's your update.

The weekend was pretty nice, mainly because I got to see my kids for the first time in three months. Although, I only got to spend a couple of hours with them... but hey, it's better than nothing, i guess. Still, I think it may soon be time to go to the courts and work out a visiting schedule. When a man is spending more time of his life shitting than seeing his children, there's problems afoot.

Anyway, i also got to catch up with Randy and the family in Woodstock. He was kind enough to play me a recording of the last gNosh show (can't wait for the album), and introduce me to "Kids Show". I will never be the same.

Other than that, it was a fairly tame weekend, though I did get my drink on with Earl on Saturday night in F-city. It's clear to me, though, that drinking just isn't what it used to be anymore. We ended up doing practically the same shit we would have done if we were stone sober, which kind of defeats the purpose a little. Regardless, I've got some practicing to do if I'm going to be ready for this year's Pub Crawl (tentatively set for May 15).

So now, I'm back in the 'chi, having completed day one of yet another six day work week. My fucking neck hurts again, and I just hope it's a temporary pain that will be gone tomorrow, and not a repeat of the excruciating ordeal that prompted a Pissing Vinegar a few months back (although, I admit, if something WOULD prompt a PV, I'd probably get a little more traffic to the site).

Anyway, I'm tired and sore, and I think I'll go to bed. As a quick note before I take my leave, I'll point you to my fiancee's LiveJournal, which I stumbled upon a few minutes ago and, indirectly, reminded me to update this thing. And you know, the fact that I didn't even know about it reminds me that Carrie and I may be drifting apart a little, what with my fucked up work schedule and all. With that in mind, I've got to go to bed and tell somebody I love them. And your project for today, friends, is to tell someone the same. Spread your message around like peanut butter on a hooker's ass cheeks, and breathe in the sweet, sweet aroma of love.

Am I the only one who found that last line disturbing?

Meh... just go to Carrie's journal.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/marzipan_284

BI-WEEKLY WILLIE UPDATE

Okay, so I've been a little lazy. Such is life, friends. Honestly, though, recently I haven't been all that creative. Work has me away from home until after midnight, and for some reason I can't seem to get those creative juices flowing all that often.

Regardless, let's not hit the panic button just yet. I am still adjusting to my new job and its whacked out schedule of 6 day work wee, followed by 4 day work week (what kind of company starts their pay week on a Saturday anyway?). Give it a little patience, and I'll give the promise of more regular updates in the near future... maybe even that long-ago promised Pissing Vinegar.

Anyway, I'm super-psyched for this weekend, as I've officially been given Friday off. That's important, as I get to go to Woodstock to see the children... both my own and Randy's (if he's around, Derrick counts under the latter category... blow Leafs blow!) Also this weekend is a great show in the works, with Moment of Inertia (whose self-titled debut EP blew me away) and Oval Window playing Saturday night in F-city (I believe the show takes place at the Chestnut... better double check). As I said, it should be a fantastic show, and I hope I can make it into F-city to check it out.

On a kind of unrelated topic, I've been listening to the Liars' "They Were Wrong So We Drowned" practically nonstop since downloading it from their own official site earlier today. I wrote a long-winded review on GWN, so I won't bore those who have already read it with a regurgitation here. I will, however, direct you to http://www.liarsliarsliars.com/downloads.html so you can listen for yourself. Be warned... mainstream rock fans need NOT fucking apply, because this shit's off in another solar system, G.

RANDOM THOUGHTS...

* I think I'd actually rather enjoy recording a song with Pimp Tea.

* I think I'd actually rather enjoy getting off my lazy ass and recording a proper song or two of my own. "Smoking In A Sandstorm" was a LONG fucking time ago.

* Maybe I'll do a song for this year's Pub Crawl CD (tentative date: May 15 in F-city).

* The Passion Of The Christ = The Jesus Chainsaw Massacre.

* Creed = Crucifixion.

* Willie = Tired. Good night.

WEEKLY WILLIE UPDATE

In lieu of a new Pissing Vinegar (believe me, I'll post one eventually), I've been posting some of my more recently written lyrics. I hope you're at least reading them, but enjoying isn't a prerequisite. Anyway, I may post some of my older stuff in the near future (and by near, I could mean as soon as I'm finished this post).

As for what's new in my life, not a whole lot. The job is still going well, and I'll be getting my first full week's pay on Friday (BOOYAH!). Also, I'm pretty content right now because I get a day off tomorrow, which means I can rest up, work two more days this week, then enjoy a full weekend off.

So, the Tim Horton's Roll Up The Rim contest is officially under way, marking one of the happiest times of the year. And this year, it's even more special, because myself and three friends have started up a pool based on it. Here's how it works, if you want to create your own.

Every time you, or another fellow pool member buys a coffee, donate a quarter to "the pot". If you can't afford the quarter at the moment, keep track of what you owe on a centralized piece of paper that will be stored with the pot.

Also, keep track of how many winning tabs you receive, on the same piece of paper.

At the end of the promotion, the pool member who has won the most prizes throughout the contest is declared the winner.

Simple as that. Now, you can break down the prize money however you see fit. In our group, the winner gets 50% of the pot, 2nd place 25%, 3rd place 15%, and 4th place 10%. We've got it figured that the winner of this pool could potentially net about a $40 prize, so it does add up quickly. And, how am I doing in the pool? 0-for-2. That's okay, though... last year, I didn't win even a measly muffin until my 39th coffee. Let's hope history, in my case, does not repeat itself.

Anyway, that's all for now (goes to show how exciting my life is). I'll leave you with some of my current listenings.

SOME OF MY CURRENT LISTENINGS

The Mars Volta: De-Loused in the Comatorium Seeing the amazing video for 'Televators' has revitalized this album (my favorite of 2003) for me. I've been listening to it at least once a day.

Kings of Leon: Youth & Young Manhood It's dirty roots rock with a slightly punk/garage flavour. Very interesting, and very good.

The Darkness: Permission To Land 'I Believe In A Thing Called Love' is the most fun song to sing along to. Ever.

Buck 65: Talkin' Honky Blues I admit to hating this guy when I saw him open for The Hip a couple of years ago. But, after hearing the intriguing single 'Wicked & Weird', I decided to go out on a limb with this one. And, I may never come back.

Jet: Get Born One of those rare albums where every song reminds you of a certain classic rock tune, but you don't hate these guys for copying. You thank them. Because hey, AC/DC isn't exactly rushing to finish their next record.

Classic Pick - Blind Melon: Soup Quite simply put, one of the most underrated albums of all time.

I have no way to end this post, so I take a small bow.

LITTLE TRAGEDIES
Written December 2003
I wrote this song the day after the first really bad storm of the winter. As I wrote, snow was melting rapidly, leaving a fair amount of water in the streets, and thus making it difficult to get around... which is why I stayed inside and wrote this song. At the time, Carrie was mad at me about something, though I can't quite recall what (suffice to say, I probably deserved it). And, as she lay in bed steaming, I put these words to paper as an apology.

This home feels like a foreign country
I'm a stranger to myself
The windows ripe with the morning frost
And the remnants of last night's hell
When winter crept into our town
And caught us by surprise
The waters rose into the streets
Like it was trying to reach the sky

These emotions, like these blankets, spread so thin
I'm digging myself out so I can dive back in
There I go again...

(Chorus 1)
(And I feel...) I feel it in my heart, your love is free
(And I feel...) Then I feel it break apart inside of me
(And I feel...) I drift a little further out to sea
(And I feel...) Until every breath is a little tragedy

Though my skin is blue, I'm still breathing on the inside
I'm waiting for your breath to make me feel, I need to feel alive

This devotion, like my anchor, came up short
I'm calling you out, my saviour, my life support
May your breath be pure...

Another wave hides me in its swell
Yet somehow takes me back to where I fell
And through my struggles, though I'm bruised and torn
Somehow the fury of it keeps me warm

(Chorus 2)
(And I feel...) I feel it in my heart, you're all I need
(And I feel...) And I feel a rush of life inside of me
(And I feel...) I drift a little closer to sanity
(And I heal...) So I take a breath, and wait for the winter breeze...

THE EVENING GOWN COMPETITION
Written January 28, 2004
Every once in a while, I'll dream up a completely fictional story in my head, and it turns into a song. This is one of those songs, conceived while watching some kind of stupid beauty contest on TV. I imagined one of the non-winners after the competition("losers" is such a harsh word), becoming depressed and addicted to drugs, then making frantic calls to 911 and her mom in her altered state just before committing suicide. The last verse, for you necrophiliacs, makes reference to the good work the folks at your friendly neighborhood funeral home do for people like the victim of our story every day.

"This is nothing that can't be fixed with drugs,"
She muttered plaintively
I think she was trying to give our heartstrings a tug
In fact, it's plain to see
Little Miss Wannabe America
Holes in her veins, she's living out a dream
"Pretty pretty please, I just want to die beautiful"

(Chorus)
When she flies, it's always higher than the last time
(We need your information, stay on the line)
The sun is bigger, and she's starting to go blind
(We need your information, stay on the line)

She calls her other in the middle of the night and cries
"You're never there for me"
Assigning blame to anyone else is a lie
But whatever helps you sleep
Little Miss Helpless Primadonna
Cover up your scars, you're gonna be a star
"Pretty pretty please, I just want to die beautiful"

Chorus

A little touch up here, a little touch up there
And if your habits bleed through, no one will care
A little touch up here, a little touch up there
She was all fucked up, but I love what she's done with her hair...