What Was That Sound.

What was that? What was that sound?

Relax, it was just the sound of your life ending.

Last week, someone I know died. It happened one week ago tomorrow. Thursday November 24th, 2005, he passed away in a house full of people. People who were unable to help in any way at all. Some people were speechless, some people were shocked and some people laughed their asses off. Last Thursday, he found out he's going to be a father.

I know your sitting there thinking, "he didn't actually die." Well, for a guy who is 21 years old, only has a high school diploma and little options as of what to do, he's as good as dead. The mother is an 18 year old hostess at a local burger joint and said that she has no other option than to keep the baby.

I know, I know, accidents happen and even people on the the pill can become pregnant, blah blah blah. Seriously people, be smart about it. Wrap it up. Wrap it up twice if you have to. Now, I've never been one to envision myself having a family. I can barely take care of myself, let alone little mini-me's running around hopped up on juice boxes and fruit snacks. I did joke that if I were to ever have kids I'd have to name them something badass. Something with so much style that I couldn't be unhappy about having them.

Now, with a few years of maturing under my belt, I've changed my tune. If I am ever unfortunate enough to find myself having children, I'm naming them after Condoms. I am 100% serious. Trojan, Durex, Magnum, Sheik, Ribbed and Glyde Ultra are all definite possibilities. I don't want kids and fuck'em if they can't take a joke.

Geoff's Version Of An Apology

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm pretty sure I'm the greatest person to ever walk the face of the earth. Honestly, I'm amazing and it feels as good as it looks. To put this in perspective for all you mere mortals, just today I saved Sienna Miller from Jude Law. It was spectacular, but we're trying to keep it under wraps for now. I mean, the press would just have a field day with it and I'm not using my powers for fame and fortune. I'm like Clark Kent, but cooler. I can be Superman, but I walk around in disguise all day as not to attract unwanted attention.

You see, that's another thing that makes me so freaking unbelievable. I'm modest. You're probably sitting there saying to yourself:

"But Geoff! You're so amazing, you don't have to be modest!"

"!!!!!"

We'll citizen, I'm just like anyone else. Case in point, sometimes when I drink I want nothing more than to avoid conflict. I just want to have a good time. So whether that conflict is with myself and my own emotions or with someone I may be angry with, I don't want to deal with it when I'm drinking. Period. I'll talk about it tomorrow, next week, whenever. It's just that I've seen too many people say and do things that they regret when they are drunk that I pull myself out of situations to avoid doing or saying something I'll regret.

On Saturday, I was dealing with both of the above stated conflicts (my own emotions and anger with someone else, for those too lazy to look 8 lines up). I didn't want to create a situation more awkward than it already was or just basically make the situation worse. So what did I do? I went out to get some air. I went outside and tried to relax. Then I just left. No goodbyes and no warning. I packed my figurative shit and walked it off on my way home. Ask me now why I think this is the best way to solve a problem and I'd tell you, "because I said so bitch." Seriously, I don't know and for that I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I was a dick, but sometimes when you have one, you can't help it. To the one person I actually cared about not saying goodbye to, I'm sorry.

Different Names For The Same Thing

It's not so much a different name as it is a different way of doing it, and its not so much the same thing as it is something completely different. Basically, I forgot to mention that I've added "word verification" for all comments because of excessive comment spamming. Deal with It. And a quick reminder, you don't have to have a blog to comment.

I guess at the same time I should point out that I've changed a few of the links over on the side bar. If you want me to possibly link to your site, let me know and I'll check it out.

Since this is possibly the worst post I have ever had the privilege of posting, here's something people living in Washington or southern BC might get a kick out of; The late night Vern Fonk Auto Insurance commercials.

Finding My Happy Place

It takes a lot to get me worked up. I don't get mad often, with the obvious exception being when the Canucks lose badly. I'm laid back, usually I'm told I'm too mellow. However, every once and a while I can snap. I'll just lose it. I'll go off the deep end. Hell, I'll go off whatever end I'm standing on when it happens.

So take this as a warning, I'm putting it out there for everyone to read: I don't care if you are a crippled homeless child with cerebral palsy, if you live next door to me and turn your house into the house I'm about to show you, I will punch you in the face. Quote me.

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And If You Feel A Little Left Behind

Bloc Party, wine and myself in one room.

The first 48, rum, coke and an old man smoking in the other.

It's Sunday night, 10:30, and I'm tired. Tired of a lot of things that have been going on in my life, but mostly just tired. Lack of sleep and food, coupled with hours of concentrating on homework will do that to you. By "concentrating on homework" I mean procrastinating and ignoring phone calls.

I'm sitting here in sweat pants and a hoodie, bundled up because it's cold. I'm a pussy. Smart enough to go and throw warm clothes on, but too stupid to turn up the heat. Too late to do it now, I'm sitting down.

I sat down wanting to write something about last night, maybe something to reach out to somebody, something to express how I feel. That's not going to happen, I can see that much. I don't know. I'm tired and the wine bottle is running low. Blah. Meh. Pfff. Pffft. Get off my nuts.

I'll call you tomorrow.

Let Me Out

Steve, Myself, Beau, Drama @ The bourbon

Under Pressure

Wayne Gretzkey. Mario Lemiuex. Michael Jordan. Larry Bird. Joe Montana. Brett Favre. Your every day bar room Wing Man.

All are great men who work well and strive under pressure. They may go through their slumps or ups and downs, like any mere-mortal, but when the game's on the line they are at their prime. When the clock is ticking down to zero, they are better at what they do than any other person on the planet. Where there is nothing but coal all around them, they turn into diamonds.

I for one, cannot work without pressure. Stick me in a locked room with nothing but a pad of paper, books, an outline and two weeks to do a project or I'll die and it still won't be done until you open the door on the last day to kill me. My brain simply doesn't function on an academic level without the pressure of knowing it absolutely must be done by tomorrow morning or I'll fail. If it takes 12 straight hours of work to finish, I'll start with 13 hours until the class starts.

Is it that I'm lazy? Is it that I like a challenge? Is it that I would rather be out doing a million different things with my time? To tell you the truth, I couldn't tell you if I wanted. I'm too busy looking for challenges and other things to do with my time. All I'm certain of is that I've been this way as long as my teachers have been going to strip clubs on school nights. Thats along time.

Something To Believe In

Earlier this evening I'm sitting in front of the computer writing the most articulate, coherent and thought provoking analysis of the struggle to eliminate homelessness that has ever been written, when all of a sudden my leg starts vibrating. It's my phone. It's Brandon and he has an idea. A brilliant idea: The Canucks PPV game + Beer + Titty Bar.

The struggle to end homelessness can wait.

I agree to meet him there at 7:30 and am told that it's my job to round up a few more people for the festivities. A couple of phone calls later, Drama and Phil are on their way. We all get there around the same time and order a round of beers. The game is going great, the Canucks score a beautiful first period goal and I haven't been bothered about a lap dance yet. It's wonderful.

Then. It. Happens.

Could it be? Is it really? No, it can't be!

Coming in out of the rain, through the fake smoke, neon & black lights, lasers, breasts and asses, I see my high school science teacher. A 5' 5", 250 lb, 57 year old man. Not only the nicest teacher in the school, but the teacher who dresses up as Santa Claus every Christmas and has all the young girls sit on his lap for pictures. This is the culmination of my being. I never thought this man knew what real sex was, let alone that he spent school nights at strip clubs downtown.

At this point, the four of us are having a really hard time not getting out of our chairs and doing jigs of joy. Not to mention that a couple of strippers didn't really appreciate the fact that we were laughing as they shook their asses in our faces, but please ladies... Please. After about 20 minutes it gets even better. He stands up and heads off for a lap dance. After approximately 5 songs (at $40 a pop) he emerges with the same grin that I remember he had on his face while strolling the halls at school. Priceless.

Gmail

Well, it seems that I'm finally hopping on to the Gmail bandwagon. The idea of 2.6 gigs of free space was just too alluring to pass up any longer. Well that and the fact that some fuck seems to have hacked my old hotmail account. Anyways, for those of you who want to make the switch, act fast because I have about 58 invites to pass out. For now you cannot have a Gmail account without an invite. It's basically like a party and you're not invited.

If you didn't receive an email from me earlier explaining this, I don't like you. The truth is I switched emails to avoid you. There, I said it. I guess if you feel as if you were cool enough to have the old email and you want the new one, get a hold of me and I'll think of letting you know it.

Chuck Turns 71

Everyone's favorite madman turns a whopping 71 today, and in his honor I'm going to go outside, sing some songs and pass out Kool-Aid. Man I love when I'm walking down the street and someone is just handing out glasses of Kool-Aid. Spread the joy, that's my motto. Well, that and something about midgets, pickles and a donkey, but that's beside the point.

Charles Manson, for turning 71 and going coo-coo without Coco Puffs, We Salute You.

The Night Descending

9:29pm and I'm sitting down at the computer for the first time today. Satisfied. The Canucks won, in "convincing fashion," for the first time in four games. I take my first breath in what could have been years. My heart slows down, my eyes clear. Looking to my left, you'd think it was the Lions Gate Bridge during rush hour, on a Friday, before a holiday. A seemingly endless train of flags, flesh, lights, metal and rubber.

Through the noise, I'm sitting here relaxing. Just sipping a cup of coffee. Steam fills the air, while Baileys and Amarula replace milk and sugar. I can never drink a Baileys and coffee without thinking of an old friend. I don't know why that is. Maybe it was the offer of one every time I was at the Nelson household. Maybe it's because her dog's name is Bailey. What has it been now? A year? Two? Whatever it is, I'm stuck here reminiscing and thinking that instead of looking to my left at the sea of metal, I should look to my right and pick up the phone.

It's funny how you never know you're losing touch with someone, until you've already lost touch and you're suddenly different people in different lives. Even when you can sense or see the separation happening, it can be hard to stop it. There you are, stuck sitting in a chair, drinking coffee/baileys while looking out the window at traffic, instead of picking up the phone and saying 'hey.'

Jackass: The Movie 2

I have to admit that I've been lying to everyone. I've been holding on to a secret and I'm ready to admit it. After what seems like forever, I am finally allowed to let everyone know that the second Jackass movie has been given the go-ahead. It is currently in pre-production and from what I have heard, it is slated to open in theaters by December 2006. This might not be news to some, since many sites started reporting this early in the week, but I was supposed to keep my mouth shut and keep my mouth shut I did. It is now official. Be Warned.

Passing Afternoon

Well it seems that I underestimated how long it was going to take me to write out my paper and since school work has to take precedence over writing for fun, I might not get that post up today.

On a random note, here's a picture of Napolean Dynamite and Pedro

It's A Luscious Mix Of Words And Tricks

• School. What to say about school? Well, as Matt Damon so eloquently put it in Good Will Hunting, "you dropped a hundred and fifty grand on a fuckin' education you coulda got for a dollah fifty in late chahges at the public library." Now my education isn't sitting anywhere near a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and thankfully I don't have any late "chahges" at the library, but I find myself learning more and expanding my views and horizons more on my own. On my own time. The education system is flawed on very fundamental levels and as each day passes I'm beginning to think that it is getting to the point that people will start seeking out alternative means of education. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that at the end of it all I'd have a piece of paper that would at least get companies to look at my resume, I'd be doing something more constructive with my time. Such as battling evil talking monkeys.

• I've always prided myself on telling the truth. It's a curse. If I can't tell someone the truth I just don't answer the question or avoid the person so I don't have to lie. If I can't avoid the person I might just avoid certain subjects or tell them I can't talk about something. The problem is that as much good as telling the truth might do someone in the long run, they never want to hear it. People love being in their little bubbles, in their little worlds where no one hurts them and everything works out. If you know what happened Friday night, I just want to say that it came from me telling the truth. Period.

• Why David Hasselhoff Should Be Your only Idol

• Correction: The Bourbon has not changed its name, Keller just smokes crack.

• To make sure I don't get another email about my post titles. Yes, most of them are song titles or lyrics. Yes, this one too. No, your not clever. I'm tricky like that.

• Funniest, but worst, Grad Picture of All Time . Yes, it really is real. (found here)

• Look out for a more serious and focused post tomorrow.

Slightly Bored, Seriously Confused

Time for another random & rambling post. I have no intention for this to make sense, so take this as seriously as you'd take a Rob Schneider film. I'll just say I like free booze as much as I like midgets. That's a lot.

• Two weeks ago, I found myself heading to Squamish at about 3:30am for an impromptu camping trip. Don't let drunk people decide to go camping at 3:30 in the morning. Ever. Even if you have a sober driver, it's a bad idea. I reiterate, shit is bound to happen. Hangover = wonderful. 11 am call to towing company, due to broken axle = Priceless.

• If anyone asks you what your doing Monday, ask why before saying "nothing important." Next thing you know you're suckered into moving two people out of one apartment and into another. Hell, at least I get a bottle of Jack out of it.

• If you fall behind in your readings for school, reading a 300 page novel in one sitting doesn't help. Especially the next day, when you sit down to write a quiz and its almost as if you didn't even open the book at all.

• The President of Iran is the most unintentionally funny man on the planet. Yes, W. is hilarious, but he cannot compete with that Jew bashing bastard from Iran.

• When did The Bourbon change into "The Hillbilly Pub?" I know it might be, somewhat, fitting; but why change a landmark?

• Gambling is addicting. Sports gambling is worse. I won $100 last week and $90 yesterday on Sports Action. I've only bet twice so far and sit about $150 ahead of the house, but I can see this leading down a very dark and dangerous road. I mean, every day I wake up and look at the days games thinking which team is going to win, what are the odds and should I go put some money down. If your already a sports fan, I highly suggest avoiding sports betting.

• Ever want to tell someone you care about that a situation they are in is just stupid. Retarded. Fucking idiotic. Maybe you want to grab them by the shoulders and just shake them until they see that they are getting cheated on, mistreated and laughed at.... No? Oh, okay. Do what I do, stop calling them and just forget all about it.

• Best Site EVER

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