on the job

new forehead head expanse read ward emm
fleeing disco aspirate flasks in pandem in pandem in tandemonium
we step freed fleadh hop in
up the hill, up the hill, jill's a daisy daughter
i flop into the fropsy lumps and sleep
and sleep and steep the price is right to skip
five bands? four bastards! fix slippery slippers. oh ah um.
greedhead.
a forest of q's
we doughnuts queue for crullers crawling trawling morning bawling yawning radio yarling
mustaches hiding from the world at night
come stinky and bushy six-thirty a m
every right turn's a disaster.

the gate beeps yes at the waving white card
the sense to be made of the place already laying itself out
noone ever parks their car to face the plant
there's enough stairs to kill a sick man
lockers jammed into every blank space
thrust the young men together in hallways
and half naked struggling with coveralls
every morning the list of things that will kill us slowly
is read, and sometimes an addendum of things that might do the job much faster.
someone cannot stop yawning.
someone will not stop scowling.
someone will talk until they're told to shut it.
the kids on the floor are laughing.
get in and

DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE

get out and smoke. get in and

DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE

get out and smoke. eat yoghurt, applesauce, drink a litre of juice.
urinate. get in and

DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE

get out and smoke and crap. get in and drive, it's not much longer now.
get out, shower,

you were who again?

Episode III: Anakin's Visit to Supercuts

The smallest thing can seem like an enormous reprieve sometimes. Realizing that I could not afford to call a plumber and that I was going to have to suck it up and figure it out myself, I canceled on the plumber and dropped by the house today to either fix the toilet or whack it with a pipe wrench until it was a pile of fine silt. Miraculously, it was already fixed. Is it possible the lovely Melissa took pity on her destitute slumlord and fixed it herself? I doubt it. Doesn't seem like her kind of thing. Then again there is no other explanation, barring the leak having been entirely in my imagination.

Yesterday we discovered that our phone line was dead. Today we found out that it was through no fault of our own (as in all things, we're a little behind in the payments) but some kind of actual glitch. A glitch which, if a bitch is pitched, might stitch a rich niche and hitch our sitch out of the ditch.

As in we might be compensated for our troubles. Howzose fer apples?

I get paid tonight at midnight, and my pumpkin turns back into a Lexus. Not for long, though. Rent is due soon, and that isn't all good news anymore.

I promise that the next post will get the hell off the subject of my personal finances. It's just been so trying, and I needed a place to come fucking die puking. Tomorrow is coke floats and car washes, I promise.

i would like to win the lotto, please

This post heading has been deliberately chosen since after I wrote yesterday's entry, Jake Gyllenhaal stole his upstairs neighbor's tv, dvd player and vcr.

Hunnhhh. I haven't bought a ticket, but you never know, right?

I guess he decided he had no choice. He'd cornered me yesterday when I was trying to fix her toilet and tried to get his damage deposit back. His brother ("actually he's my best friend") was in police custody and he had to get money to bail him out. I couldn't have helped him even if I'd wanted to since his money had already been spent on groceries and gas.

I know, I know, but that's where things are right now and a guy's gotta have groceries and gas, right?

Anyways, I'd been holding the place for him, so I told him if I found another tenant for May 1st he could have it back then, otherwise no pocky for kitty. Then he asked if he could borrow fifty bucks. I had to tell him I was completely broke. Which just makes me look really good.

I would have lent it to him. I'm a very trusting person, and he'd seemed like a good kid.

I can't evict him because he hasn't been charged. They worked it out between them. But now I have a bunch of locks to change, on top of a plumber's bill to pay because I'm too stupid to be able to fix a leaking toilet by myself.

Just as I was finishing typing that, I got a call from someone doing a telephone survey on people who pursue, but do not finish, post-secondary educational programs. Lovely. My phone died before I could finish telling her why.

Incredibly, I got a cheque for $199.53 from my insurance company yesterday. So I have options. I can either: a) pay my plumber's bill, b) get new locks, or c) register my car. Maybe even two out of three. The remainder have to wait till Friday. Meanwhile the water's shut off for plumbing repairs in Rowand House, and I desperately need to shit.

I realize that a lot of people have it far worse than I do right now. But man, it's stressful to have assets you need to protect that you just can't afford to. This is as close to rock bottom as you can get and still have equity.

Gotta go buy some locks. Everything else has to wait. Sorry, sister mine.

go on take everything take everything i want you to

The morning sits and spits on the griddle, my girlfriend performing her pre-work ablutions as I sit here letting another hour wane. I go soon to practise songs, which I should probably be trying to remember right now so I don't look like a fool. I also have this damned car that I need to get registered and go and get, but I don't have money enough to even do that right now. Two days ago I got a damage deposit for the basement. It's almost gone - what the hell happened?

My sister waits patiently for me to return her car. She needs it for a day so the other one's windshield wiper motor can be repaired. It's dangerous to drive it in the rain. But every day it's sunny, gorgeous, the grass is being bleached and the streets are pools of dust and tight cotton. Every day I wonder when it will storm, but it hasn't yet. How far can I push her generosity?

My house is threatening to turn into a huge stress hairball. I think I've made the mistake of being too nice to my tenants just because they're cool kids and not idiots like I've rented to before. I think they're beginning to think they can take advantage of me. And they're right. I'm a total pushover as a landlord. I suck at it. I should've just sold the house. Maybe it's not too late.

Basically my life is out of control. I'm lucky I don't smoke pot anymore or I would be fuct. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go spend half of everything I have left in the world on a pack of smokes.

Oh-KAY.

Things are finally fucking settling down enough to the point I can stay up late and do a little writing. We're basically moved into the apartment, although there's cardboard boxes everywhere. We have a lot of books between the two of us, and I'm afraid that a lot of them are just going to stay boxed in the closet. She actually went out and bought a cardboard scratch toy for the cat, which is pretty funny because it's not like there's a shortage.

The apartment's great. I'm glad I let her talk me into it. Here's the real attraction for me: When you look out the living room window of a house, you see your lawn, and the lawn across the street. Fucking boring, totally static. Maybe one day a drunken mook will crash into your car, but it'll probably happen in the dead of night when you're asleep, and you'll miss it. Generally, then, just lawns. Some lawns are okay, some lawns are disgusting, some lawns are too weird to be believed. There is no such thing - there is no such thing - as a beautiful lawn. Never has been. Ever in the history of god. Not one. Know what I see now when I look out my living room window?

Well, it isn't a fucking lawn.

I'm writing this on her grandfather's computer, which, he being recently deceased, has come into our possession. It's kind of a clunker. Downloading music isn't really going to be an option, and I'm not actually sure if I'll be able to upload my own pictures or not. I doubt it. There's something wonky with the photo software on it too; every image has lines going through it like it's been run through a printer with bleeding inkjets.

Work is different too, again. I'm now a loader operator, which unless you're a totally cloistered idiot, isn't something I should have to explain to you. The company just keeps setting balls on tees of different heights, and I just keep batting 'em out of the playground, or something like that. It even feels like I finally have a grown man's job. Not that any of this is going to count for crap if I look for a job somewhere else. Still, it's nice to be appreciated where one works. I'm well into my best working years, and this is the first place I've felt it.

I'm even - holy shitcakes - sort of trying to be a musician again, in a band, even. No name yet, although I'm kinda leaning toward Manorexia.

All of this has left me running on fumes financially. I actually had to use my groaning Visa to buy some Mickey D's after work last night, it's gotten that bad. But the old house is rented out now, and I'm out from under the crushing power and gas bills that came with the place, and it won't be long before we'll start recouping some jang.

This post has been excruciatingly plebeian, quotidian, and except for a smattering of hip profanity, totally sublimated. But I'm just getting started again. Wait for me. Wait! I can be good I promise! Bawww...

I'm missing

Actually my computer is KIA. Be awhile till things get regular around here again. Apologies to those who care.