Happy Halloween

What a difference a year makes. Going out as The Joker tonight. There's a professional makeup artist in town going to do up my face. Was going to go as Batman but my big gut made the costume look just silly. 'Wanna know how I got these scars?'

Comedic Uncle

This http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S32yk3hRYZ8 is a comedy gig my uncle did recently. While I was living with him last year he would run bits by me to see what I thought was working or not. Neat to be around that. I still plan to be able to say that I stood in front of a crowd and attempted comedy. Kind of have a few other things on the go right now.

Trouble At The Henhouse

I just moved in with 5 women.

Wee Wee The Medicine Man

My circumstances take me up to Pemberton on a regular basis. This is a special place. It is almost all First Nations territory. There is a spirit guide who works with the people of his tribe. I am going to have the honour of his company in the coming weeks. Curious to see what he has to say. If it isn't an issue with him I will take photos of his fascinating residence and put them up here.

The smell on that driving job I had back in Ottawa was the material they take out of people when they performed heart surgery on them in this particular hospital in Ottawa. You know when you floss or you go to the dentist and they floss you there is sometimes an odour to the process? Imagine that on a thousand times the scale from the buildup removed from people's hearts. It smells just like plaque. I would almost pass out every time I moved that material. What I thought I was smelling were the aborted fetuses from the abortions they were doing at the same hospital. One of the interns corrected me. I didn't actually ask if the smell was the aborted fetuses from the hospital. I just asked what the smell was in the special pink bags I moved once a week.
Enough dark talk. Life is good in many ways. I'll fill you in on what Wee Wee the Medicine Man has to say about my spiritual circumstances.

Dark Stall

'How's the rap career coming?'
'I'm writing hip hop.'
'Don't even know the difference. Sing me some.'
'Right. I need a mic. Got a story for you, though.'
'Is it sexual? I'm eating.'
'Not sexual. Spooky tale.'
'Go.'
'OK. So, I go into the internet cafe near Base 1 of Blackcomb.'
'I know it.'
'Uh huh. I go in there to have a squirt. The normal bathrooms are being repaired but they tell me to use the staff washroom.'
'Good service.'
'Yeah. I like them in there. I go into the stall because there are no urinals. I start to piss.'
'Seat up?'
'Jesus! Yes, seat up. Can I finish?'
'Please.'
'I start to piss and I look down and notice this pair of bare feet in the next stall.'
'Weird.'
'Yeah. And I know the feet from somewhere.'
'How?'
'Wait for it. So, I'm relieving myself and the fuckin lights go out. Pitch black in the washroom. I actually say, 'The hell?' out loud and I hear a shuffle from the next stall. Lights come back on as I continue to piss. Get a little on the edge of the seat but I figure I'll clear it off after.'
'If you know what's good for you.'
'Spoken like a true married man. I keep pissing. Really had to go. And the lights go out again. I say, 'Crap.' Lights come back on again and guess what's going on?'
'You hold a large cock in your hand for the first time ever?'
'Good one. No. There is a woman standing right beside me in the stall. She has a grin from ear to ear, pulled back too far from her teeth. Looked like The Joker.'
'Standing in the stall WITH you? How'd she get in?'
'No idea. Must have crawled under when the lights went out.'
'Holy fuckin shit. What'd you do?'
'That's not the whole story. You know who it was?'
'Your mother?'
'It was that crack woman I took home in my cab the other night. That's how I knew the feet under the stall. She has no shoes or socks.'
'...'
'Yeah. She leans up to my ear and whispers. She says, she goes, 'Wanna party?' Then she starts to cackle this maniacal laugh. Hurt my ear it was so loud. I'm still not done pissing, meanwhile.'
'Then what?'
'Then the lights went out again. Just me and this cackling crack addict in a washroom stall.'
'Then?'
'Then the lights come back on again and...'
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End of dialogue exercise. A chap I work with signed his published novel and handed it to me today at my request. We were joking about what he should write and settled on 'With Love' then his name. He's putting me in touch with his publishing people.

Bitch.

Whistler Photos

Cheakamus Lake Hike

Awesomer and Awesomer

Went hiking to Cheakamus Lake today. Will post photos shortly.

A recent CB radio exchange with my soon to be former employer:

'Yeah, Pat, where are you?'
'Currently doing a little off roading with the funniest gay male porn star I'VE ever met and three 20 year old Guatalaharian girls I brought back from bungee jumping.'
My passengers all laugh at this exchange.
'No, really. What's your 20?'
'I'm. Off roading. With a very funny gay male porn star who I took out to bungee jump and the three 20 year old Guatalaharian girls who were waiting for a cab back to the Village.'
More laughter from my passengers at this conversation. Our vehicle bumps and bounces along the dirt 'road' to the bungee place.
I add, 'You?' To see what he would say.
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You meet a very diverse group of people in Whistler.

Go Team Go

I am currently staying in the cheapest shelter I could find. With this membership card I have I pay $20 a night to stay here, in this hostel. I move into my place shortly. There is currently a woman staying here who is training to compete for Canada on our Olympic bobsled team in the next winter Olympics. She is profoundly alpha, cut, and walks in with her helmet under her arm every day as she starts to disrobe her training attire while preparing her very carb dinner each evening. This is a woman who is striving to reperesent this great nation in the next Olympics and she is forced to stay in the cheapest housing in Whistler with strangers from all over the world as she trains. It's criminal.
Canada gave huge amounts of financial, taxpayer, aid to China. China mops the floor with us in international competition and has men space walking. Yet successive Quebec based federal regimes in Canada gave them millions of tax dollars. To kick our ass. Meanwhile the most intense female athlete I have ever met is training in near squalor to represent Canada in the next Olympics.

Squat

A guy I work with is currently, technically homeless. He has been living in this makeshift shelter he put up for himself out in the woods. He was issued a ticket for squatting on crown land, he showed us today. We helped him get in touch with the social people who handle people in these circumstances. A couple of us gave him a hand moving his stuff (he has more material things than I do) into his new temporary housing.

In other news, I think I may be falling in love.

Readings

Currently reading Christ The Lord Out Of Egypt by Anne Rice. Told from Jesus' perspective. Very neat concept. Imagine the moment when the kid figured out he was tuned in in ways others weren't? They're sitting down for a family dinner. Joseph asks Jesus to pass the salt and Jesus fires it across the room without touching it.
'The HELL was that? 'PASS it,' I said.'

Today's Photos

You talkin' to me?

Current occupation: cab driver.

I previously posted something comical a Chinese friend said about Chevy cars. Dirty Chevy. I beg to differ. I'm driving a Chev vehicle with a well tuned V8 engine. And she purrrs when I give 'er.
I drive to Base 2 of Blackcomb Mountain every morning to watch the mists clear as the sun comes up over all this beauty.
My first fare has, like, nine minutes to, like, catch her Greyhound in Whistler Village. I am requested to get her there as quickly as possible. And she purrrs when I give 'er, my little Chevy V8.
I drive four young Aussie males to their next party. They are complete A-holes, to the man, and tip fairly well.
The next woman is the daughter of a software tycoon. They have operations in Ottawa. She just arrived from their summer house in Ireland to hang out at their house in Whistler for the season. Her neighbour rents her place out for $10 000 a week. Nice view.
Next up is the party girl I have driven to and fro several times.
'Hey! The lost cab guy,' she says as she gets in.
'Still no clue,' I say, and we both laugh.
She is going to party with her latest fuckin HOT guy she met at a club. I'll see her the next morning to drive her home.
A woman hops in the front at the next stop. She is wearing only lingerie bottoms and a t-shirt. She has no shoes or socks on and has a very demonic feel to her. Crack. I keep her in my peripheral vision beside me until I get her home. She is in the process of losing her soul.
'I got soul but I'm not a soldier
I got soul but I'm not a soldier.'
Next fare is a woman who lives in a home worth just over $8 million. Her Louis Vuitton accessories are all real. And her husband is violent and she's had enough. I point out how we're passing the Whistler RCMP detachment and look at all the shiny police cars. She has 'considerations', she says. And there went the pity.
At night I sit in my cab right in the dead center of Whistler Village. A full grown black bear comes running down the stairs, runs right in front of my cab, and heads into the bushes on my left. Big one.
I have finally found a place to live here. The woman who owns it is kind of a player in Whistler. She owns several rental properties and manages one of the hotels. I am living with 5 females.
And she purrrs when I give 'er, my little Chevy V8.
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None of the preceding is fiction.

Clan

Kid in the photo is my little cousin.