hello, friday.

    

    As I sit here listening to the EP of Dan Mangan, sipping on a bottle of Havana Club getting that mid afternoon glow that I've been looking for since, well... yesterday.  I have decided as of a few days ago that I will be saving all summer to relocate to a better place that we like to call Puerto Rico, come October.  Rum, beaches, white sand and Latinas is my interest for going southbound.  Well, time to get back to my bottle!

adios, amigos.

another picture, more booze.

    The weather around here as of late has been typical west coast weather.  Cloudy, windy, trying to rain, but can't make it all the way.  I'm pretty sick of this weather being it's June 20th and the summer has officially began.  All I want right now is to be able to enjoy a nice plus 25 degree Celsius day on my porch/or the beach sipping on my favorite beverage and enjoying the best of the sun.  Please weather, let's sit down and have a talk, work out some sort of agreement where you can be as shitty as you want from October 1st onward to say, May 1st and just co-operate for once. Please!

it'd be nice to see you, sun.

a picture.

see you soon, padre.

what the shit just happened.

   

        So somewhere over the past week I ended up with a job and not just any sort of job, a 9-5 full time job.  I wasn't really looking it, it just kind of came to me.  At first, I kind was kind of enjoying myself, but four days into this thing called a job, I have realized that this has cut into my drinking, tenfold.  Now my idea for the summer was to hopefully find a part time job, maybe four hours a day, three days a week which leaves me at four open drinking days if my calculations are correct.  I am now starting to feel like our dear friend Milton; overloaded with work, and just not enjoying the job anymore.  This real world bullshit is starting to get on my nerves.  Anyways, I'm not sure when the next time will be that I'll be able to wrap my lips around a delicious tasting bottle, but it better be fucking soon!

I'll see you tomorrow, you fucking cubicle.

a bottle. (from the island)

Before I moved to this island a few months ago, I had never really heard of the Phillips Brewing Co. but soon came to realize what the 341ml bottles were about. There is eleven different varieties to choose from, although I have only tried three of the eleven bottles, but have lived up to their expectations. The Slipstream is still my favorite at the moment. Now it's been sometime since I've touched mainland and intend to keep it that way but I'm sure that these bottles have boarded ship and found a comfortable spot on many liqour store shelves throughout the province. A six pack of this runs you about $12 CDN which is a fair price in the overpriced market of the Canadian liquor economy. So the next time your thirsty and need to wrap your lips around a bottle, I'd recommend picking up a few of these.

bon voyage, mon ami.

a movie.

By now, you've probably heard about the latest film from director, Todd Phillips. If not, it's called The Hangover, and has been in theatres since Friday. On Sunday afternoon, this movie seemed appropriate enough to go watch. After all, it was Sunday and I was extremely hungover from the previous night of binge drinking for a pal's birthday party. The movie stars some comedic actors that I'm not going to bother mentioning, but do assure you, they will make you laugh. The movie is about three friends and a reject who set out looking for that perfect bachelor party in where else, then Las Vegas, baby! Somewhere throughout the movie, they lose their groom after a heavy night of binge drinking & GHB. Nonetheless, the three groomsmen give Vegas a thorough sweep retracing their tracks to solve the mystery of their fallen comrade. I'm not going to go much further for fears of ruining your viewing pleasure. So my advice to you would be this; Get fucking hosed the night before, wake up before noon and catch the matinee, it's worth your time.

my head feels better today, thanks.

a son of a bitch.

          I'm not talking about the old fart in the picture, I'm talking about Pabst Blue Ribbon known mostly by abbreviation as "PBR".  This son of a bitch has an alcohol content of 5.9%  and comes at a handsome price of $7.99 for six of these at your closest cold beer and wine store.  Over the weekend, I was lucky enough to witness my roommate consume fifteen of these sons of bitches over a five hour period to drown whatever sorrows he may have.  The last memory I have of seeing him, is walking up the middle of Yates St. destined for some of that delicious pizza from that joint I previously spoke of in an earlier blog.  Folks, this stuff is cheap but is also miraculously delicious, but also gets you good stinkin' drunk.  If you spend as much time as I do drinking, but can't afford the higher quality stuff, then I recommend this stuff.  Recession beer!

thanks again, asshole.