Jake

So I used my cat's health a few posts back (a move that I regret) in order to keep people coming back here. His health was improving at that time so I thought it made for a funny joke. Sadly, he is now quite sick and has an appointment with the vet tomorrow. Hopefully they can heal him, but when a cat is not eating, going to the bathroom or purring it is not a good sign. I'll keep you all updated as the situation progresses.

On A Lighter Note . . .

Heh. Heh heh. Heh heh heh.

Tired Manipulation Attempts

I took a look at some articles re: yesterday’s shootings in Montreal and found some interesting details about the dork. Did you know that he lived a “gothic lifestyle” or that he had a “black coat and Mohawk” or that he was “dressed head to toe in black” or that he played “violent video games”? Of course you do, because the media won’t stop shoving these details down our throats. This guy seemed more like the poser in Grandma’s Boy (for those of you who have seen it) - just another loser who just doesn’t get it.

A Little Something Until More Somethings Come To Mind

I drive apathetically to work, squinting towards the middle-aged sun. Autumn is near, yet the city is coated in a haze of pollution and humidity. The people I meet along the way wear their cars with an acute sense of pride. Their destinations are more important than their morals when they don their multi-thousand dollar disguises. "How do you live with yourselves?” I wonder as they swerve in front of old ladies trying to cross the street or force busloads of children to stop short.

My apathy dies, butchered by intense bitterness, as a rusty moving van cuts me off. My horn bleats senselessly and my middle fingers wave savagely as I invent demonic swear words. Minutes later the van has disappeared down an alleyway, and I realize then that it is too late for me. I have let the bastards win. My car too is my mask – a convenient excuse for me to disregard common decency. I speed up, attempting to block a turning car from getting in front of me. As they shake their fists I shake my head. "Seriously, how do you live with yourself?”