damn you: sorry about that drunk call friday
zer: it's ok
zer: you guys were pretty funny
damn you: i don't remember what I said
zer: you basically offered me sex anytime i wanted it
...
damn you: my offer still stands

Friday saw the return of our annual vodka night and saturday morning saw me waking up not knowing where I was and fully clothed lying on top of my covers.

Damage reports came in with byron passing out in his bathroom but being dragged into the hallway to spend the night and taz curling up in his closet, unable to make his way back to bed. It's amazing what happens when five guys drink two liters of vodka, a few beers and some drambuie.

I can't wait til next year.

As much as I love writing for the enjoyment of my blog readership, what I really love is writing for the ladies.

Last night I dreamt I was having sex with a fat chick and I woke up rather unhappy about the whole episode.

Now I'm hiding under my sheets chanting "can't sleep, fat chick will fuck me"

(I'm very well aware of the fact that I am a shallow asshole)

My cat has grown very curious of my toilet, particularly when it's flushing or I'm peeing in it. He'll put his paws up on the rim and peek into the bowl which I would rather he not do.

The best lesson I can figure to teach him though is to pee on his head the next time he gets so curious, but then I've have to deal with a piss covered cat running around my place and rolling around on my bed.

I think I'm ready for kids now.

Despite considering myself very skilled in the kitchen, jealousy still stirred in me as I watched the guy in front of me at the grocery checkout purchase his dinner ingredients of a box of no name macaroni and cheese and single bulk hot dog.

Sometimes the things I miss the most are just the things I won't let myself have.

In a show of gross neo-colonialist arrogance, Byron and I thought to put together a list of all the animals that god put on this green earth and then eat them all one by one.

At the very top of our list of wants is the magnificent blue whale but unless one beaches itself nearby and we can reach it faster than the marine biologists, we won't get to put a fork and knife in one anytime soon.

So the alternative? Canned whale from Japan. Japanese schoolchildren eat whale in their cafeterias in such classics like salisbury whale and sloppy minkes, so it makes sense that I try to procure myself a can rather than risk arrest at the aquarium. Also on the list are an elephant, giraffe, bull moose and a hobo but we'll have to start where we can.

If karma has its way with me, I'm quite sure I'll meet a grisly demise in a meat processing plant.

Despite the fact that people tell me that owning one will result in me never getting laid again, I still want a scooter.

While I don't disagree with the less action arguement, chicks that do dig scooters are fucking awesome.

There's something deserving about skipping a workout to go out and drink instead, only to realize at 2am that your door and elevator keycard is inside your 24th floor apartment and having to walk up the stairs.

Whenever I watch Back to the Future I can't help but think that if I went back in time and Lea Thompson were my mom, I would have faded into nothingness soon after.

Nature reveals yet another wondrous marvel and the first thing I think is "I wonder what it tastes like..."

My mind is in utter disarray after being shown how my youth is being raped by disney. The catchy synthpop anthems of geek empowerment now turned into a whorish spectacle for children who have probably dressed and acted all the right ways and who will likely never understand the what it is about the girl u want.

Are we not men? We were devo...

After saturday brunch with some good friends, I walked past a protest outside the KFC on davie condemning their cruelty to chickens and encouraging people show their support for animal rights by not eating there.

As much as I'd like to support their cause for humane treatment of animals, I'm much more in favour of boycotting KFC for serving such disgusting deep fried garbage and daring to call it chicken.

When I gave up being a fat piece of shit, I also gave up a lot in the way of food options. Regular coke is a rare treat, white bread doesn't ever come home with me, and fast food consumption dropped to a bi-annual event (except for fried chicken which I still enjoy monthly like clockwork).

Now giving up fast food wasn't the hardest thing in the world, but it did lead to an unexpected side effect. The last 3 burger king whoppers I've eaten have all been severely lacking. My brain remembers them being really fucking good; charbroiled flavor, onions, tomatoes, mayo, pickles, and ketchup all coming together to form a great fast food burger but since the cut in intake, their charm has been lost on me. An exquisitely made moderne burger on the other hand still blows me away.

Luckily for me though, a can of coke classic still has magical properties but it's amazing how your body reacts to a reduction in crappy food.

A friend recently wrote up his list of 47 relationship deal breakers which seemed rather neurotic and infantile.

I'm not much for dealbreakers as I've seen convention based on preconceptions fall apart and regret crowd enough lives.

The only dealbreaker that really should exist is whether or not that person makes you feel like you just swallowed whole a can of coke and a fist full of pop rocks. That is, tingly, nauseous, uncomfortable and totally awesome all at once.