The BGA

Julie and i were having lunch at a diner a couple days ago during my break. prior to leaving the shop she had witnessed a ruff little dealing between arno and myself, then he had said some shit to her about how i’m a negative person. During our hamburger and coleslaw Julie tried in a gentle manner to share these  sentiments with me. Obviously one can only react with cool calm collectedness when someones tells you, you’ve got a negative attitude and a propencity towards overreaction. In my head i was reeling, screaming how dare you all!, you people take me for fucking granted! you don’t even consider all the shit that stays in my head! and then, my calm voice saying, but they do have a point. it’s not their faults that you’re better than all those losers, and prettier.

but the more i think about it the more i accept that alot of the bad stink in my life has to do with the the way I choose to react to situations. and even though i do not like to be responsible for bad things, at some point accepting accountablity is the only means I have of getting permanently on the outside of my frustration and fear. Things aren’t getting miraculously better in my life, and i still get hot under the collar and people alvays side with julie as they have since we were kids, and i dont know how much of this is cause i’m a scary tyrant and how much has to do with her being sweet and pretty and seeming gentle. Julie is PURE EVIL! just kidding, she’s the bomb, and if she was mad at someone else i bet i’d be on her side.

yesterday we were doing a shoot and she kept being all "but how do i look, can i see in a mirror what i look like" and i was all "fuck you cunt! just trust me, i"m not gonna  make you look ugly, besides this shoot is not about how good you look, it’s about me, so shut up!" and her and vanessa were all like, " you’re not very nice" and i was like "Typical you fugly bitches! i dont even want you stupid whores in my picture anyways, why the fuck dont you get up and get the fuck out of here, i’m prettier than you two losers anyways" and they were all like "no, take our picture, we’re pretty", and i was like "suck my bad attitude"

speaking of shoots and shooting my negative outlook, i finally replied to this e-mail from a private collector who bought one of my photos last year. he was like all :"how are you what are you up to"  i waited three months and then replied with a five chapter novel about my descent into loserdom, and my hope for escsape.

It’s like my mom’s dreams come true, her overly confident and drop dead gorgeous son, goes on a humble pie diet, a never ending humble pie diet and rather than trim down to a respectable shape he gets lumpy and bitter, well i guess her dream doesnt include that last part, which is why one needs to be careful what one wishes for.

anyways, as is my habit i will end this here, despite a gapeing lack of closure. Lets just say, that like Joan of Arcadia, I am learning my lessons… slowly.

BGA.

I did a really careless, stupid, humiliating thing. It all started when nissa sent me her nipple, and i started using my sisters camera for soft core. But once i got a taste of the power of the nudie, i just couldn’t get enough, all it took was some more provocation in the form of a dear friends snatch, and i was front of that bugger with my draws round my ankles slappin that bitch to make her nice and hard, then click click, and just like that my erection has a life of it’s own on the internet. so i sent dear freind, a picture of my dear pink friend and Bcc’d a copy to me….. or so i thought.

So i looked in my inbox after sending it and wondered why it was not at the top of my new messages, all of which were from style.com aparently black is back and sixties revival is not to be taken too seriously, unless you’re under 25.  As much as i was relieved to know i can still don the iconic looks made popular by faces like Twiggy’s, i was becoming increasingly anxious to see my hardon find it’s way home to my inbox. After several taps on the refresh buttom it was still a no show, and i was begining to panic. I logged out hoping in vain that when i re-opened my g-mail account i would find, my dick happy to see me, and back in the fold, but alas my cock was still M.I.A.

It was begining to seem quite clear to me by this point that the message was not going to be delivered to my inbox, i reluctantly opened my sent messages box, wishing and hoping that i had only sent the message to my dear friend and had simply neglected to send it to myself. NOT AT ALL THE CASE… oh no, and what i did was way worse than i could have ever constructed as a cautionary tale. I opened the naughty message to my dear friend and saw the name of my new employee in the Bcc. I accidentaly sent the new girl my dick.

But she’s not just any new girl, she’s this 10 foot tall european, model goergeous, educated(completing her mba or like a masters in the philosophy of sexual harrassment or something…), demure, elegant classy dame and here i am bombarding her inbox with the cock n balls and a bit of asshole to be sure…. OMG! anyways I havn’t seen her since then and she sould be arriving any second, I’m gonna play like it never happened or tell her if she wants to keep her job, she’s gonna have to suck it in the back room, and thats how we do things in Canada, and if she doesnt like it she can go back to her model family in Antwerp.

BGA

fine.

Y Kant Tori Read? Is it cause she’s an illiterate? She’s such an illiterate I bet she can’t even hear me. Illiterate bitch. or is she some smug 80’s philosopher with a serious lack of imagination? did the hairspray seep into her skull   or do all pop singer start somewhere horrible and humiliating. That sure is something to take into consideration given my destiny as the worlds greatest most carismatic pop star to take the stage… I’ll have ask J lo. anyways if you want to partake in Tori’s humiliation, all you need to do is click this highlighted text. The big picture was shot and realeased in 1988, i was only 7, so i wonder if it would have been humiliating back then or cutting edge, I also don’t know if it was commonplace in a pop video to wield a medivale sword, i seem to remeber Lee Aaron having a sword as well, only i remeber there being a dungeons fetish sex theme to her video…. we’ll the older people can tell me…..

Which brings me to my next point of order…Evidently a person who keeps a blog about their life, particularly someone who edits old posts and attches semi nude photos of themselves, is a self involved, self obssessed, self aware and highly insecure individual. So why is it that people who find pleasure of one form or another (even if it is in my humioliation) never comment on it… i mean friendster has gone to the trouble of adding a link that makes saying "hey i read that" so easy. let me explain. Writing this blog is probably more fun for me than anybody else, and i’m sure that the amount of times i re-read my posts exceeds the amount of other readers, and i know there are some out there, but it’s a lonlely thing writing something for an imagined audience and never knowing they actually exist…. I mean, making a fool of oneself can feel heroic, if your readership is large and relates to you, or pathetic if your self flagellation are performed in a well lit room for three people. You know what I mean it’s like all of those 90’s fish out of water movies where someone, who under normal circumstances is a social leper, gets up on stage and dives into a mosh pit he or she has finally decided to stop holding themselves back from joining, only to find the crowd beneeth them has disspursed just in time for them to land face first on the hardwood, unnoticed…. Each post i write is like bracing the edge of the stage and hoping i’ll float on top of the crowd. Do you people (if you really exist?) really want to hurt me?  let me know…. in the comments section….

Julie and i saw Sin City at Cinema du Parc last night. First off Rosario Dawson is ugly and cannot act for shit. Second neither can jessica alba, and she’s a cheap slut, and apparently she’s geneticly predisposed to obesity fat bitch.

The film was interesting to watch, that is to say, i liked the effects they used to make it really resemble a comic book, and the elijah wood characters story was creepy as all shit. but generally julie and i were wondering whether it was really necessary to placate the vanity of middle aged men with hero complexes and hardons for teenage girls? every single female character in the film was a prostitute or some other sex trade worker except for Merv’s Parole officer, who delivers all of her "moving scenes" wearing nothing but a thong… if even that, and who described as being "a dyke" which Marv thoughtfully ponders "I don’t know why, she could get any man she wanted"

Clive Owen is hot and i’d watch him do a crossword or play with his navel lint if  they filmed it. he was good as was britney murphey. I know i know i didnt expect to be able to stomach her performance, but next to Alba, who can’t even deliver a convincing strip tease, she stood out as a real player. some props also go to Alexis Bledlel who donned some real whore-rrific outfits, to play her gilmore girl character as a street walker. also hearing bruce willis continually refer to himself as the old man was nice, i mean a hero who isn’t all yippyyay kayo mutha fucka, its a departure for him no? sleeping with 19 year olds is not however (i bet the lindsey lohan rumors are true, she’s lookin for a daddy).

anyways thats that for now.

bga

Allo, its a new day its a new dawn, and i’m feelin….. better.

My BFF Kate put up her new website today with help of Erin Breau Barkley and it’s lookin pretty good check it out here: mine from home.

Other related news, Clothes Your mouth is really taking off and getting more and more exciting, i recommend you check out the site to see if youre at all interested in getting involved.CYM, I should be back in Toronto in about 6 weeks. If anyones got a line on a good job, send it my way. I want to be a teachers aid for behavioral kids… i dont know why. and i cant spell as anyone reads this already knows. oh well.

other than that i got these two little teasers, My efl sent me a jpeg of her areola from her cell phone in tokyo, so i made these and i am now officially collecting amateur cheeky nudies via e-mail if you wanna send em in to my email address

here goes

i feel fancy free today. so if you have good news lemme know. if you got spare cash send it on in, and if you want me to see you goodies, I want to stare.

BGA

Can You pay my bills?, Can you pay my telephone bill? Can you pay my hydro Bill and maybe then we can chill?
They just keep comin in, and callin in, and shuttin services down, i bet next thing i’m gonna get haulled off to jail, but mmmm, doesnt that sound nice, live rent free, dont have to pay for meals, and more sex than you can shake a stick at.
BGA

I’m a hypocrite, probably, and a liar and a whore. I would like to believe that i am all these good ideals i think i stand for, but who am i really kidding.

I dont understand why people want to be smug, mean and jugemental nasty snide and juvenile. of course i don’t understand how i can ignore my own smugness, and all that gross shit.

Olga saiys life is about decisions, there is no right or wrong, there is no fair, just decision, be nice be good, hold your toungue when it helps and you know all that stuff your mom said. Well i’m glad i have olga she reminds me, my life is not the UPN.

if im a hypocrite break it to me gentle, im a sensitive hypo.

bga.

Self rightious indignation blows goat, and i can prove it. no but for real, is it really necessary for people to bust a “let me correct the error of your ways, you weren’t playing by my rules, and in case you were’nt paying attention it’s my way or the highway” or how about the passive aggession of insulting, and i say insulting cause there’s a difference between criticism and insult, someones work, clothes ideas, priorities, instead of outright saying whats on your mind, for instance: ” I do not like you, and by extension i am annoyed by all the things you do” instaed of putting on an air of superiority and telling someone they have no concept of how a whatever should be whatevered… ok. maybe thats a little vague… i getting somewhere i swer.
The thing is, I’ve had it with people who believe that their opinions are the be all end all. I’d rathter not have to deal with bullies who have superiority complexes, even if by most standards they are mariginal. Being a bully makes you just as bad as anything thats bad, and i know cause Abbas told me i was a bully once.
or like the johovas witness system, where you just assume that the people around you have never considered their surroundings, or tried, on their own, to make sense of things. just cause you think you got it right dont mean you can take for granted that i too think i got it right. the only difference is my version of got it right doesnt have me on a soap box trying to make and example out of you.
(i get all huffy and write a blog about it)

If you have a point to prove good, fine, but does it require public humiliation of an innocent just because said innocent manages to attract attention with his dry wit, mad charm, and his defined facial features? should he bocome a pariah so you can remind everyone, YOU HAVE A GIANT CHIP ON YOUR SHOULDER? especially if you have wrongfully (and wrongful doesnt even describe it, hypocritical jumps to mind) accused him of being whatever it is that you call the people who arent down with you….. mehh. you might as well be paying some young nobody to marry you and dragging them around the world with an entourage of scientologist and pre paid publicists whose primary interest is in painting a flaw free image the great thing that you think you are.
well listen, for my part i promise that when the aliens come, i will tell them you’ve been waiting.
chipity chip chip, BGA

In a bizzare plot twist, I pulled a Felicity Porter last night and took shears to my scalp, misguidedly trying to shape things as i had dreamt they could be. maybe it was just vanity, maybe i was tierd of feeling boring, maybe i was trying to force a change in myself, or feel in complete control. maybe i wanted to feel self suficient, after being ditched by everyone i know(except sara b and christine, who provided good albeit short moral support) on my only day off in like 16 days or something. maybe i was trying to return to a not so distant phase were i was more hopefull and excited. or maybe i was just tipsy.
regardless, i stepped into the shower with nothing else in mind that to enjoy the cool water and clean up before meeting up with V and company, i looked in the shaving mirror and imagined the new me, i looked at the clock;12:03, i doubted that V would call, i looked back in the mirror and noticed the scissors out of the corner of my eye. The rest is sort of a blur, chunks of hair in my hand being tossed to the bason floor of the bathtub, creating a damn at the plug, the hair on one side of my head getting shorter and shorter, whipping the long bits back and forth to gage the effect of MWTS (montreal wind tunnel syndrome) and then finally the moment of truth, or as it turns out the first moment of truth. i stepped out of the shower, shaving mirror in hand, and studied my reflection, from the front my dreams had been fulfilled, the exact legnth i desired, the contrast between the layers was subtle enough that should i feel a little less 6th element i might tone it down, until i shifted the shaving mirror to show the back of my head.
gouged, only beings to describe the aesthetic effect of my clipping furry. I resembled the baby piggeon that had made our porch it’s home, just after it’s birth, a creature i had described to Vanessa as "a bacon strip with hair growing out of it" I realised that damage control would be necessary, i hoped V would call and i could rope her into evening out ground zero for me. no such luck. so i positined myself in the mirror and began, with the scissors, to chop all the hairs dow to a miniscule, but uniform legnth. I almost succeeded except for the areas where i had so poorley gouged myself that short of a clean shave, they would never ever be like the rest. So I lathered up and cleaned out my razor, and as careful as i could, i followed the line i had made with the scissor (which incidently was not that bad) and bic(k)ed that shit into shape.
at the end aside from some minor cuts it looked ok. I like it sortof, and it’s ok to wear to work i guess, but i kinda feel like an extra from ‘dances with wolves’. it’s kinda funny, and i almost feel proud. I think that in a month or so it will be just where i wanted it, so at least there something to look forward to.
anyways i’ll post a pic when julie gets back from muskoka with her digital camera.
xo bga

Nissa, love of my life, light in my heart. There is no excuse for my having forgotten you. The worst part is, were you in my clique, i know you’d be the first one to pull out the lead pipe and go all Jack Nicholson, on he who done me wrong. So let me make this post a pledge not to take your nihonjin ass for granted, my favorite Japaneese Gangstah!

Jess, The only reason, youre not on the list is cause you already run with a couple posses, and i’m not sure i could persuade you to shift loyalties… prove me wrong.

and this last bit is a shout out to Ewelina, yo girl, you aint in my clique, but i aint mad atchu’ i like you girl. I hope everything is going well, frantic, but well, and i look forward to a rendezvous wit chu. lemme know lady.

to the rest, do ya best
don’t hate, masterbate.
BGA.