This is How I see it. If You Like What You Read, Click An Ad And Help Me Out

Sunday, July 31, 2005

It Doesn't Make Any Cents

Life is weird. The show last night (it's 3:42 Sunday morning) was excellent. Felt fantastic up there. Being an MC opens up so many avenues for ideas, let alone jokes. I felt closer to my stride than I have in some time. It was a great show, a great weekend.

I worked with two people whom I genuinely liked, as well. Usually that tends not to be the case, which speaks more of my cynicism than the short-comings of my co-workers, although I could hold up some of their flaws in a court of law. This week was not the case. I worked with a very funny, very insightful comic with whom I hit it off wonderfully. Great conversation and good company, she was what the doctor had ordered for me. As I was dropped off at home, which is rarely done, she declined my offer of gas money, which capped off a great week. I strode happily to my home, excited about what was next.

What was next was me realizing I lost my pay for the week. Gone. Not in pockets. Not in bags. Not in socks nor in couch-cushions, not floors nor the street. Her car was absent of my loot. Gone, into the great void of existence where sits many drivers licences and other ID pieces of mine, CD's, books and people whom I have lost along the way.

Combined with my losing Fionn MacCools and having a show cancelled this week due to the long weeked, I somehow ended up losing $400. How, in a week where, in an even more peculiar way, I feel to have defiend myself, I end up in the hole is a mystery of life I cannot solve. My thoughts, my insight, my humor and my confidence have all reached such a level of strength and clarity over the past week that to compare it to my financial ruin is shocking. I am at a loss of, well, money, and not much else.

I take this as a sign. Too weird of a week to brush under the rug. It is with a clear and sober mind I see that things are happening now and my number is being called into action. It moves-up my Calgary sabbatical scheduled for later in the week to a few hours from now. Why hesitate when you know what you are to do?

Yes - why hesitate when you know what you are to do.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

Saturday Is Nice

There's this buzzing in this city that I always here. An electrical, hig-pitch moan that gets on my friggin' nerves, while my fucking nerves remain untouched by it. It's everywhere I go, and it's not in my head - I've had the sound confirmed by other ears. buzzzzzz. hmmmmmmmm. It must be the sound of an enormous city sucking dry the veins of power that run rampant throughout the city. Where it's heart is, I don't know, but it must be strained. buzzzzzzzzzzzz


I MC'd last night. Dug it. Totally diffirent way of being funny. You don't get to tell jokes so much as you just talk to them, and throw in a joke wherever it permits. I like it. You don't even have top be friendly, I learned. I was quite mean, but funny. The job is to make sure they are ready to see the comics on the show, and in between, you make 'em laugh. I might like this position.


Watched Jerry Maguire today. Great movie. Always find a new perspective in that movie everytime I watch it, which must be near ten times now.
This time, I saw the story of an athlete who found that the source of great performances comes from the heart, not the need to fill a wallet. If you watch it carefully, it's also a story of redemption, belief in self, the cost and profit of risk, a love story and a persons' complete deconstrcution from super agent to fulfilled man. Good story. Everything Cameron Crowe makes is layer after layer of great story telling. Elizabethtown next.


The NHL draft was today. I can recall having sleep-overs as a kid on draft night eve and excitedly watch the draft in the morning, eager to see who the next super-hero for your home town team will be. I recall mising one. I was running in the Manitoba Marathon. After the race, we headed over to my Grandma's house and sat around and enjoyed a family day. I was furious that the race I'd trained for for MONTHS forced me to miss the draft. A radio was my only source to hear that the Winnipeg Jets selected some Finnish player named Teemu Selanne as their first pick. I read what I could of him, and studied him as I have all picks before and since, and it only further amplified enjoyment of his record-breaking rookie season that took Winnipeg by storm. This year, the Flames selected some under-the-radar defencemen named Matt Pelech. I still have ot read up, but he seems a surprise of a pick who as not expected to go anywhere in the first two rounds Who knows? Maybe years from now as Matt Pelech hoist the Stanley Cup, I can recall the day the ball started rolling - a day where an electrical buzz drove me up the fucking wall.

Thursday, July 28, 2005


Holy good grief, my spellig is subpar as the hours go on. Something about late nights and spelling that don't mix. I will leave it as it is.


The cigarette update is: Other than a few smokes from my buddy, it's ok. So, in other words, I haven't quit yet. House-cleaning and quitting smoking rarely happen on the same day.
Excuses, excuses....


Todays writing is forced. No feeling is urging to leap from within and demand I take attention of everyone and everything to share it. Today feels like a Sunday. House chores and such. But, it isn't - it's a real day, and according to the calender, I gotta get on it!

Many thoughts in my head today. The 'shock' of losing Fionn MacCools is 'sinking' in. I hated it towards the end as it became nothing more than a vehicle to pay me so I could continue to live as I was, which was scraping by. I never too much enjoyed the feeling of hosting the evening. Hosting goes beyond being the MC, it's being ambassador for the room. The middle man between comics and bar staff. I don't too muhc enjoy that spot. I prefer to have somebody doing it for me, and that wasn't ever coming, so the evening died a slow death. I have to be what I am. Maybe one day, as the owner implied in his no-door-is-closed speech, it will return, but one (me) is curious how and even why. Money will not be the motivator.

Other realizations are sinking in. I'm so far in to this life now that the only way out is through the other end. Well put, me.

I am becming a tad more chatty here now. My opinons are no longer held in a vault inside. I'm getting to know these people here, and they are starting to get to know me. I ain't no stranger and I ain't going away. I had a show last night I was very, very happy with. New ideas are sounding pretty good and a style is emerging that I have yet to see from myself. Something of a combination of many other things i've tried, all flowing into one. I will never, ever, ever, stop growing; there will be no one level to achieve in which dreams are realized; I can only go forward, and what I see now I like.


OK, I should do something today. Um.......

How Do You Quit Smoking?

This is a tough question. I'm not sure how it's done. I am aware that people have done it. Success has been reached in this field. I've smoked for a very long time now and I am ready to see what's on the other side of the plumes that I have for years surrounded myself in.

Smoking is such a sweet way to kill yourself slowly. A long-term suicide plan, as I see it. Many people have lived very good lives and smoked throughout them all. I don't envision that that would be my fate. I cannot see myself at 60, smoking away doing whatever it is that a 60 year old me would do. Whatever it was I'd be doing, it would be pretty wheezy, I guess. Not the future I select, should the choice be mine.

A common arguement on from the pro-cigarrete idealology is that, hey - fuck smoking, you know, a sattelite could crash into your room and you could die RIGHT NOW while you're writing this blog. I find that ideal philisophically quaint, but highly unpractical. Nothing that makes you coughy is a good idea, and tea is better for you, anyway.

The positives of smoking are many, it seems. It's a little reward. 'Oh, you just got off the bus. Good job. Have a smoke'. It's mysterious. 'Oh, she's looking at me. Better light up and hide behind the smoke'. It's a good way to compliment a special moment. 'What a beautiful baby you have. Can I smoke now?'. Cigarettes are like your travel buddies, your one constant in a foreign land and they are always seem to understand.

There are also made with a really addictive drug that's hard as fuck to shake. Why did they do that? It speaks volumes of human nature that not only was a product made for human consumption thats' chief attraction is the fact that it is an addictive and you will buy it because you NEED it, but the product kills you, too. Nice job, human beings. You suck, fuckers. Go cats.

Logically I have determined that the only way to defeat cigarettes is to quit them, as I have grown tired of the knowledge and sense of what losing to them may be like. I will miss them, and I am sure we may have some dirty rendezvous' under the stairs when nobody else is around. Seductresses.

I just got a figure out a way how.


In other news, Fionn MacCools is in a coma and likely dead, and with it, my weekly infusion of funds. I do not want the feeding tube re-installed.

No, really, I HAVE to quit smoking.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

New Bio

Pics soon.


STATISTICS: Brett Martin
BORN: June 4, 1979
RAISED: Winnipeg, The Paris of Canada
OCCUPATION: Stand-Up Comedian
STARTED PERFORMING: At school, pretending to fit in. Around, say 19ish, I felt a strong pull guiding me towards Stand-Up. From that point on, I was here to save your planet
STYLE OF COMEDY: Pressed, wrinkle free repression expressed in dance and booze soaked freeform
ACCOLADES: Voted most likely to be Mayor of Calgary. Finished 13th. What do those people know?
BEST DESCRIPTION OF SHOW: The Unspoken Truth mixed with abstract hypothetical
CAREER ACHIEVEMENTS: I have never contracted VD, have never had a heroin addiction, have not (I think) impregnated an audience member AND complete obscurity in my own country
BEST AUDIENCE FIT: Knowledgeable, passionate, intoxicated, positive, open-minded nudists and women into one night stands
WORST AUDIENCE FIT: Uptight fans of musical comedy, magicians, easy music listeners and aristocrats
BEST REASON TO WATCH THE SHOW: Most economical way to watch a man deconstruct in public
BEST REASON TO AVOID THE SHOW: Watching a man deconstruct in public can be pretty sad, if not a violent thing
PERSONAL STATEMENT: Follow me into the desert, thirsty as you are, and I will show you the light and the way is not mine
MARITAL STATUS: Accepting resumes for the first former Mrs. Brett Martin
BEST TRAIT: Lack of shame, brutally honest, uh, brilliance
WORST TRAIT: Not a fan of those who don’t like me
HANG UPS, PET PEEVES, MORALITY CONFLICTS: Sleeping in feels soooo very good; People who won’t look me in the eyes; Wanting to rule the world without the responsibility

Writing Is Hard Sometimes

I haven't written anything in a while. Sometimes I get like that, and as a self-described writer, I'm sure that that can be something of a problem.

As a man, I get caught up in the details of things. If I want to do something, to write something, to create, I have set for myself a bad habit of peering too far down the road to investigate rather my proposed action is anywhere near worth it, which, as a creative person, is poisonous. Let it flow, I preach. Let it go, I act.

I have many ideas in this head of mine, which is pretty stupid. I'm one signifigant head injury away from losing it all and spening my years looking helplessly into the dizzying array of lights and distractions that make up this world and thinking only 'neat-o'. Not the way I wish to live. Ideas are much like all energy - stagnant until put into action.

I have not ruled out that more experiences will force me into a place where coomunicating all that I have seen and felt is not a choice but an action that serves only to preserve sanity. Not only a good idea, but sounds fun.

So, the slump ends now. I haven't written Huck Finn here, but I have turned the engine back on. The cobwebs need clearing and the juices some time to reach all the arid pipes of my psyche, but it's back on track, and things are turning back around, again. Still some magic left in this summer, I say.

Feel free to send me a muse.

Saturday, July 23, 2005

The Fix Is In

Even trickier than I thought.

First, they reverse their strategy and decide to televise the Draft Lottey. Sly. I thought I was wrong. Nope. The Lottery was held in 'private', behind 'locked-doors', supervised by 'accountants' from 'respectable' law firms. Makes me sick. I trust that combonation of words less than a drunk man claiming he can drive. I've seen it before, I tell you....

So, Calgary picks 26th. Fraud. If I was a mathman, I'd prove it through complex theory how they should have drew pick number 1. I have no such skills. If I was an investigative newsreporter (that wasn't being placed in jail) I'd expose then fraud. I'm not that, either.

Just a guy who is pleased to have a hobby return and enjoying the mindless fun that is being a profesisonal sports fan. Happy to see it back.

And as for the pick, what's the saying - 'Better to be smart than be lucky'.

Sports is all allegories.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Random Thinking In Type

Nice to have a house like this. Stayed up last night for a couple of hours and talked fairly complex philosophy and environmental issues with my much-smarter-than-I-had-thought roomate. At times, my only response was a smile of understanding, in part due to having no idea what to say. I'm cramming for the next one....

The show last night sucked. Hated it. Sure, a FEW people were there and I should focus on the positive side of things, but god-damn, I hated being there - almost embarassed. Something there gonna change....

Getting alot of additional work done. Feeling a tad sick of stand-up as the prime occupier of my time. Much else to say, do and be. I love it, will always do it, but I have to find a life as well, and if not now, when? Catchy saying that's been in my head....

Fixed NHL-Sydney Crosby draft lottery on Thursday or Friday. Fuckers. Put it on TV. If the Flames don't win it, it's a result of a complex and evil fix. I'll have my eye open. 'And the winner is the New York Rangers'. Who knew? I'd love to be wrong....

Really windy today but it seems to be coming and going in no specific direction. The windiest type of day....

What to do tonight?....

Feeling stale. Feeling stale. Maybe the wind will pick up.

Monday, July 18, 2005

The Game of Politics

So, a man named Rove ratted out a CIA operative. The G8 just met and talked about things of the upmost importance. A major city was 'attacked'. Baghdad type damagae in the 'civilized' world. I used to care passionately about these issues, but now I observe them with emotionless distance. It's something of a polar shift for me, and I am attempting to understand just why.

A big turning point was the November American elections. What slim faith I did have in the world and it's people was that it would be able to see past the childish puppetry of the Bush people and their agendas. They didn't. Bought it hook, line and sinker. The silence of the intellectual leaders who should have stood up and rallied the masses was deafening. I was shocked that things remained status quo.

All the while up here in Canada, a simple game of politics was being played. Find whatever scam the sitting government is involed in, then inform and rile the public to eject them from their seats. One hundred million dollars, you say? It's just the tip of an infinite iceberg that sits under the entire workings of each and every government.

Evem my political fire has dimmed. I once ran for Mayor. I did it for many reasons, not the least of which is my megalomanical-hunch-I-can-change-things-messiah complex. What I was really hoping for was that people would see me up there, plain old me - probably hungover and definately not ironed. They would see me as a symbolization of them, and in that, by juxtoposition to the politicians, see them as they are, which is manipulative businesspeople. Granted, I was very young and quite unexperienced in many ways at the time, but it went largely unseen.

Now, I just don't care. I believe in change, in a(n) (r)evolution, but I can't see it coming from the usual suspects. This 'war' starting or ending is not the answer, nor is it the problem. It's players are not essential to the dilemna, either. Something bigger needs to happen. There are many candles to light and many people to do it.

Will it ever happen? In my world, yes. Gandhi once said 'Be the change you want to see in the world'. Makes alot of sense. The best way to spread the message is quietly in one's ear rather than at lungs best through a megaphone - that way is not so much effective as it is alot of fucking fun.


Shitty - all this deep though and now I gotta go tell jokes. I guess there's something funny in that.....

Just When You Think You Know Something

It's been a really weird last two days. The lessons are coming in rapidly and I barely have time to reflect upon what exactly I am learning. The life I am living is somehow coming into view now, and with it a sensation that something is happening, and it might very well be me doing it. The signs are coming into view but I still don't know which way they are pointing. For the first time, though, I am learning to unhesitantly move in their direction.

I gathered much this weekend. About me. I had good shows Thursday and Friday. Really happy with them. My new attitude on show days is to relax. It's a show day! How can I not feel good? I simply walk away from stress, and consciously can now that I legitmately do this for as a living. I forget about bills and dramas and the future. I live life by my rules those days. I have some stand-up to do, and that is the BEST course of action forward. Do your best stand-up and the rest will be as it should. I spend show days being me and the results have improved dramatically.

Well, Saturday, I didn't do that. Some stress got in my head, and I couldn't shake it. Started thinking too far ahead. "I never got to recording these shows!", "Where will the money come from if I don't have CD's?", "What shirt to wear?". So I decided to 'work hard', get my mind off things. So, I sat down and got to making a set-list. Making notes and to-do lists. Figured I should prepare myself. 'Big show', right?

Well, it was a rough outing. I misread off the top. They wanted me to chat TO them, not speak AT them. I read that but was psyched out - I headed right for the script. Took too long to find myself up there. I was chugging along with material 10 minutes in when I realized I was a fucking robot, simulating character and authenticity, spewing lifeless words from my detached soul. The audience felt it. I responded with seering, subtle anger.

Finally, half-way, I broke. I couldn't fake it anymore and snapped from the trance. It was too late, then. I began commenting on the bizarre show (and it was) up to that point and sorta had a laugh at myself. We all did, actually. For a moment, it was nice. We agreed it was weird and made up. Then I went on to limp to the finish line, the crowd ambivalant to my fatigue from the battle which was fought to ensure that that very result didn't occur.

What did I learn? The same old lesson that I never nail down - just be me. Never seems to fail. That Saturday occurance is just the most recent in a mind-numbing trend to throw my beliefs, ethics and personality aside in fear that I am not doing the right thing. Ten times out of ten it fails me. It doesn't serve any purpose to be anything but yourself. You not only rob yourself, you rob other people. Nobody wins when you're somebody else.

The mark of success is not what can you achieve, but how authentically can you be you. There can be no purpose to the concept of 'self' other than to be it in it's purest sense. It is the gift. I am starting to think that there is nothing more I would rather be than me all the time. Not only will the funny flow, so will the soul.

Cue the next lesson, please.

Friday, July 15, 2005

Piece of Peace

A good night indeed. Didn't start that way. The sun took from me what little energy to care and consciousness of my existence I initially had to begin with. I went from waking up to napping on the couch. Not my best performance. I was not in the mood or apparant place that is required to be able to deliver comedy without it being laced with hate and anger.

Things turned. Something freeing about hitting the highway. Tough to be mad when home is at your back and you could care less when you return. I got caught up with my contemporaries, both good folks. The club has a green room, which is heavenly. Newspaper, fruit - yuck, popcorn and a door. All nice assets.

Once I hit the show, I just took off. Ran out from under my feet. Although it was material, it felt like free-flow. I figure that place may be an asset to me.

Nice break down. First third for them, middle solely for me, last third, we share. Gotta work on making sure the 'for me' part doesn't get tooooo self-indulgent, because, well, I can do that sometimes. Damn my charm to win 'em back. I ended by fisting the queen, and they were happy I did. I like the fact that my life is the kind of life in which that sentence makes complete sense. Cool.

Throughout it all, the whole night, a nice feeling descended upon me. I walk the streets now of Toronto and don't feel as if a stranger walks among them, not so much because I'm getting to know the city, but because I'm getting to know myself, and much like Toronto, I can be difficult, tempermental and a bit of an asshole, but I'm finally starting to understand how it works.

Something Diffirent

I don't know how to upload pictures, so I can't really SHOW you anything cool. I also don't know how to put that person counter on here so I can see how many fuckers read this. ha ha

So, in lieu of visuals, I'm just going to copy and paste the things I like. Here's something cool.

Oasis - Columbia

There we were now here we are
All this confusion nothings the same to me
There we were now here we are
All this confusion nothings the same to me

But I can't tell you the way I feel
Because the way I feel is oh so! new to me
No I can't sell you the way I feel
Because the way I feel is oh so! new to me

What I heard is not what I hear
I can see the signs but they're not very clear
What I heard is not what I hear
I can see the signs but they're not very clear

This is confusion am I confusing you?

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Lucky 51

Holy fuck, it's hot. Nice way to start things. It was 31 when I went to bed at 4:00am last night. That's what I'm dealing with here. Heat, heat and more heat. I always find that when weather is the first thing brought up that usually there is not too much to follow it with. Perhaps that is not the case today.

The NHL lockout is over today. Great relief to me as a hockey fan. I highly anticipate that the Calgary Flames will finish what they started last year with a Stanley Cup victory. I will see you all at the parade.

Me? Not too much. I am going to Ajax this weekend for a trio of shows. Might record it for my much-hyped-yet-not-recorded CD. I'm feeling pretty funny, but not in a chatty way. More in a material way, and I don't mean stuff. Sometimes the funny flows from a diffirent place and you must run with it. Now, I'm just getting the sensation of humor from my already made jokes. Good time to record. I usually am not one who enjoys going - or for that matter can - from the script, so now may be the time to seize this moment.

I have a show tonight at Spirits. It's a local legend on the comedy scene here. I usually end up getting drunk there, and knowing that old habits die hard, my guess is that I, tonight, do not have the strength of will to change my ways. Not that that is in any way a problem as I see it tonight.

I'm settling in quite nicely in the household. I like my new roomates and my old roomate is as I recall. All is well. I need dearly a fan, but in time. One must pay penance for their actions, and karmatically I figure I am still a week or two from a nice breeze in my room.

So, in a nutshell, I am staying the course and seeing that, as always, it was the right idea. Only 20 years away from owning a hockey team.

Monday, July 11, 2005


I saw my first house fire today followed by my first small business fire. Quite the day for the dalmation part of me.

I was walking home from the car rental place when I saw a smoke billowing from what I thought was a large building. Canadian terrorism, I never thought. Something primal in me made forced me to make a pilgrimage to the smoke. As I neared, large chunks of ash were raining from the sky. Signifignat in size, some the size of shoes, came raining from the sky. I don't know how or why, but it all felt like foreshadowing. Strange feeling. Sorta freaked me out. As I neared, it was not a builing, but a resedential neighbourhood and it was all blocked of by cops because of the stupid people like me who were trying to offer the house fire gods a sacrafice. Me? I would have offered my bills.

Later in the day, while standing on my roof - I told you my new house was great - I saw another large plume of smoke on the near horizon. Off we ran to the scene, not 10 minutes from the house, to the site of a small warehouse explosion. Rumor ran that people died, but it was untrue. Just somebodies dream coming true. "No, jim, now work today, it blew up. Probably take the week".

So, fire and destruction everywhere, and me walking right to it for fun.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

String Stand-Up and Learning About Insurance

My weekend is done, although since it's 4:42am and I am still awake, perhaps not. I finshed my shows in Kitchener with a boom - last show cancelled. Not enough people to go. 8 seemed good enough to me, though.

The shows were all very good this weekend. I usally try to downgrade my efforst but this was good. I was in a place where I had no care about any thoughts but those of mine, and I was loud. The manager kept turning the mic down - dick - so I kept getting louder. I had it cupped and was yelling into it until I threw it down and started yelling. Good shows.

The diffirence now is I don't care. I don't really have anything left to lose. I bolted from a house and live in a city I am at best cold with. The shows are the release of it all, the frustration, the desire, the drive. I didn't do stand-up to become popular. Fuck popular. I just say what I need to say and don't say much else until I have to say it again. If I could only be the kind of communicator that could express just how complex that simple statement is.

In other news, get Insurance when you rent a car. I got rear-ended while trying to find the Indy-Car race track in town. Ironic-ish. The man was very angry until I stepped out of the car. Sometimes I forget I'm 6'3. He asked me if I was Portugese, which isn't the case. I wondered why he asked me that. Are Portugese more prone to report fender benders the insurance people? As it stands now, I have a sore neck, a dull headache and long explanation at the rental place when I return the PT Cruiser (if anybody here works for PT Cruiser corp. I'll take a cheque for the plug). Luckily, I took the insurance, which I was hedging on because I quite like to gamble. So, the lesson there is that insurance IS good but it makes you a bit of a pussy.

Other than that, all is well. My body has not rejected the new house, nor has it, I. I look forward to what will be a very fatigued Sunday.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Did It

"When life is hard, you have to change"
Change - Blind Melon

I just moved from my house today. This blog had more warning of it than my (former) housemates did. I was slightly naive in expecting good will and best wishes. It was hostile and angry, and I was docile. Felt maybe I deserved it. I feel a rush right now. It was only an hour ago and, boom, outta there. Home from the photographer, move out. That's how I operate. But I don't feel great. I feel a little guilt ridden, which is good - means I'm not a psychopath. Sometimes you gotta burn people on the way to where you're going, and I know now that my old house is doused in flames of ire which was lit by my actions. I feel bad, but, hey, read the quote.

I never did feel at home there, which was upsetting to me. I didn't move to Toronto to feel the same sensation of restlesness that has dogged me for years. But, as I found out quickly, that feeling was not going to subside in that environment, and it served only to further isolate me from my sense of well being. I was welcome there in a visitors term. 'Feel free to stick around, but don't feel that it's yours' was the vibe, and I felt it instantly. Many a good friend told me to leave right away. I scoffed. I'll make it work, I vowed. Sometimes, others are right. I lived for almost 7 months in an environment that I was never comfortable in. I tried, but as I learned, square pegs do not find in round holes, no matter how hard you try.

Now I live with my old friend and perennial roomate again, but this time in Toronto. What's old is new again, but I don't feel my train stops here, either. It's just replenishing supplies. Something is still happening to me. I'm not making any friends here in Toronto. I am making many an acquaintance, but there is a strange, bewildered look in the eyes of those whom I meet and get to know. Nobody can figure out what I'm all about. My instinct here is, surprisingly, clear as ever. I am flying in the face of the common convention and feel that I should continue in my direction. Maybe the light at tunnels end is a freight train - only one way to find out.

So, the point of it all? Read the quote. When life is hard, you have to change. I am not where I want to be, and the writing on my old wall read nothing would differ if I was to stay in that environment. I had to take this risk. I had to make livid the people with whom I once shared a house. I have to keep going. I had to shake it up, and I just did. The slate is now clean, the possibilities endless, and karma waits me in the future to notify me if my actions were just.

I'm not afarid to change.

Wednesday Wednesday

What a weird one so far. It's only noon and I've been up for three hours. Tunrs out I like the day. May see it a little more often. I was up to go for a meeting with a photogtapher for headshots. I got there ontime - 11:00am. It was this studio apartment that the guy lived in, and as I entered, he was in his office on the phone, and I could not get his attention as he had his back to me. I stood there for twnety minutes, every so often walking by his oiffice, saying "Hey, Richard, I'm here". Nothing. I heard him complain on the phone that his eleven-o-clock didn't make it, and I got angry. I was right fucking there! I got really antsy, then started laughing. It was so ridiculous. I contemplated making some loud noises, but that would freak him out. I was never buzzed up, the landlord snuck me in. He had no idea I was there at all. I started to count to 10 - he never heard, and I left. 5 minutes late he calls to ask where I was. I never answered. I enjoyed a morning walk and a morning laugh, both rare in my experiences.

It made me think of something. My strange power of invisibility I've nurtured. For a big man, I can sneek very quietly around. Perhaps I missed my calling of breaking and entering. I love to have a quiet and understaed presence. It serves to double the effect of the other power I've learned - to fill a room. It serves doubly effective when compared to my ability to disappear.

On another note, I watched 'War Of The Worlds' last night. Didn't really like it. Too dark, and I love dark. It lacked story, and, well, more story. See it, you'll understand - I'm tired of having to explain EVERYTHING. It's no Magnolia and Tom Cruise is on probation. That said, the scenes with the blood spray was creepy. Just creepy.

Other than that, I may move houses today. I do hate my place and a move today would fix that. But, in typical me, I won't know until I do, which isn't yet. Baby steps...

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Dear Karla Homolka

Dear Karla Homoloka,

So, I guess you're out of jail now. That must suck. No more free meals, no more free rent, no more top of the line gyms and free cable. The run is over for you, I'm sorry. You have to go live out in the real world now.

I guess I should update you on what's going on in the world. There is a war somewhere over there and everybody hates you. Tough gig. People tend to get there hair in a bun about people like you, the kind of people that kill their sister on videotape. I know, watching most TV is like murder anyways, but you had no special effects. You're just kinda creepy.

Your fist call should be to PlayBoy. Pose naked. There's alot of cash in it and people love naked women. Some people may get upset, but just say you'll put 10% of it to a charity in your sisters name. It'll work. Some will say "Maybe she's reformed", but many will still want the sight of your death on the evening news - sorta hippocritical, I know.

You'll need a job, though. Idle hands are the devils' tool. You should get a job in PR. Go to a big company - GE, something like that, and be there spokeswomen. Who wouldn't want a celebrity to represent their company? Try the Tobacco companies. It would be good to get a job with moral equals. You have the face, Karla, don't watse what the good Lord gave ya. You could also be a weather girl! Tell us how sunny it is today, Karla!

I wish you luck finding a home. Your interviews for apartments must be a little tense. Can you get a reference from the jail people showing your a good tenent? You didn't kill anybody in jail, did you? Make sure you get a place without a basemet, no need for temptation.

And all in all, welcome back to GenPop, the World, Freedom! Enjoy your movie about you.


Monday, July 04, 2005

Bored On The Fourth Of July

I think I get it now. I'm bored. Bored as hell. Under-challenged in many ways - not that I'm looking for the going to get any rougher. I was laying in my bed today, listening to the crackling of the thunder from the storms that are rolling through here, and it hit me like a bolt of lightning - I'm so bored. Mind-numbingly bored. I've felt this way for a long, long time.

That which interests me, interests me alot. I would imgaine without the passions I do have that I would never leave bed. No point. Stand-Up is a great adventure and wonderful challenge. A new experience each time I do it. I can speak as I wish, write as I please and unleash that which needs to be freed. All wrapped up in a nice package of laughter, which I always love to hear and trigger. No doubt about it, stand-up is great.

I just don't feel too challenged. Please don't confuse that with my stating that things are easy. They are two diffirent things entirely. I am tired of being a middle act, I want to grow, be challenged, become a headliner, and then whatever is after that, I want it, too. The goal of financial stability bores me to tears. It is not the plateau I wish to reach. There is another direction to walk in - trouble is I have no frame of reference to it, no person to whom I can point to and say "Hey, they did it - that's what I want". It's all a guess to me and I have nothing but instinct telling me to get there. And I'm headed there now - just sometimes you have to hit a dull patch along the way to make sure you want it even more than when you went to bet the night before.

Oh, well. I will not only survive, I will thrive.

Friday, July 01, 2005


I'm feeling a little less pissy today. I tend to get intelectual when I am in a really confusing place, as if the pursuit and actualization of deep thought will help me to break from the mundane and foggy area I am in at that moment. Think it might work, actually. Today is a better day, although I would struggle to say why.

It's Canada Day today, which is a big deal if you believe in those sorts of things. No cake, though, so it's not a birthday as best as I can tell. Canada turns 16 today, and I am proud if it. I can hear it's voice changing and it mentioned something to me about hair in new places. It's slightly embarassed about it, but I re-assured it that it's ok and normal. You should have seen the look of shock on Bulgaria's face when it's balls dropped - it thought it had cancer.

I have a show of the stand-up comedy nature on tomorrow. Yes, I said it that way. I make up the English 'round these parts. It should be fun. I finally found a 7 minute set that rips it each time, and, of course, I am now painfully bored with it. I have never dug predictability, and the fact these jokes work is getting dull. But, they're funny, and I'm still an unknown, so I must build. Building is boring. Destruction is great fun.

I'm thinking of moving out of my house. Nothing is really wrong with it, I just feel a change is needed. It's now month 7 there, which is about as long as I can take in one place. 6 months is my staple. I'm not sure what it is in me, but it gets wormy after too long of anything. I think I'm gone from this city for a bit come the fall anyways. Part of the greatness of this life is the ability to go anywhere. Yes, I've learned that this is my home now, but I need a little break. Brett is getting antsy again.