grouper

i had a really good time last night.
havent played a concert in forever, especially in PG.
so it was a giant release of steam.

steve played great, max played great, i wore a dick costume.
we did a lot of improvisation, and a lot of abuse.
both verbally and physically.

coaches corner is a great place to throw a concert.
good sound, good stage, good staff.
and if the message in your music is usually "drink.", then you can't loose.

we actually had several practices before this gig.
so it was easy to fill the show with fun stuff.
and it made us sound way more like real musicians.







im a googly-eyed-gas-guzzlin-grizzly bear.

and im going back to mexico in 8 days.

blue steel

well i guess its time to testify about the oral b incident.

me and demons had the brilliant idea of drinking blue martinis at the 20's party.
so we got some blue coraco, vodka and sprite.
the first few tasted pretty sick, but they got gooder as the night went on.
stained the mouth a mighty blue.
then, during a piss, steve noticed the bottle of oral b by the sink.
it matched the color of our drinks identically.
party on.

when there's way more guys than girls at a party, you godda get creative.



so, naturally, the o-b quickly became our prop.
and we boasted all night about how wasted we were off mouthwash.
im sure it got old fast.
"cool man, thats super creative..."

most people responded with total disgust.
especially the late arrivals at the party, after we turned it up a notch.
i dont blame them, it was quite a performance.



imagine meeting that guy.

"now THIS is a party!!!"

then today steve posts 100 pictures of me of facebook, and none of himself.
his mouth was WAY bluer than mine.
i feel like the target of a biast news program.
but i guess thats the spotlight that all the huge celebrities in prince george bc must face on a daily basis.

does drinking mouthwash get you wasted?
only 1 person at the party actually drank some.
and it was only a small sip, which i assume/hope he spit out.
his name will be protected from the archives.

bruised orange

i invented a drink called "the escape route"
1 part beer, 1 part vodka, 1 part rye, 1 part cola.
you hardly even notice how it tastes after ten of 'em.
i even wrote a tag-line for it: "the escape route...gets you the fuck outta here!"

walk into a party and yell "does this place have any escape routes?!?!"

i like spending time on things like that.

bruises coming.
got cross-checked hard across both arms tonight.
fighting for position in front.
and buddy said "all game colin"
i pulled us within a goal in the 3rd period, and said "that's one," as i skated past him.

rule 6: dicks always win.

and im pretty sure they're hoggin all the babes too.

in other news, a new matt good album is being recorded right now.

i served ian browne at mcdonalds in 1999.
told him i loved the new album, and the song suburbia.
he shook my hand, and ordered a quarter pounder with cheese meal.

one of my best concert memories ever, happened during an encore at the vogue theatre. halfway through 'running for home', ian walked across the stage, with a heinekin in hand, and sang the back-up vocals in the chorus, and it spilt out over the stunned crowd like a glass of thick merlot on your moms new persian pride rug. and we all leaned back, like drunks, trying to keep it all straight up, but lets face it, we aint never ever gonna get it that straight up.



theo is obsessed with my french argyle.
and has claimed it as his bed for the evening.
so he wont be happy in about 1 minute when i have to get up and hit the sack myself, but he'll probably follow, like the battered wife that he is.

or, he'll go and find new and exciting things of mine to destroy.

this battle starts with offense.
and i fall like an injured soccer player, fakin it.
before the flop.

music is distracting.
gets in the way on my anti-music attacks.
luckily my playlist beats you.























i often dream about being at school, walking into a classroom without having my homework done.


its like going to class without your homework done, hoping she won't check it this time.

70 bucks

rule 1: always, always, always open with a crisis.

someone is hurt, scared, sad, lonely, or dead.
or all of the above, like some people we know.
i suppose the crisis can eventually turn into a positive.
like a horrifying car crash with a cute 20-something wearing a tight nofx t-shirt.
luckily, we both survive, and are equally at fault.
so we must go for sushi to settle the damages.

rule 2: lets have a springsteen night

im listening to nebraska, and somewhere at a bar downtown, DA is proud.
mexico in 23 days.
stupid mexico.
all that stupid sun, and stupid costumes, and stupid free booze.
mexico sucks, dont come with.

rule 3: give space, and leave room for improvement.

where go without goals?

its like there's a window of opportunity way up in space, and during the building of the rocket everyone is harsh pumped up and working real hard to get it off the ground, then, when its finally ready to launch, some storm cloud blows in, and the launch gets canceled, and everyone is pissed off cause the window of opportunity got missed.

rule 4: you break, you buy

theo don't respect shit.
if i had a cat translator, he would tell me to fuck off.
i explain to him that swearing, and jumping up on the kitchen counter are both illegal crimes in this house, but he's a teenager now, and lives by his own rules, and im pretty sure he is lying to me when he says that he's going to a sleepover at jon's, but is actaully drinking 2-litre coolers at the spray park on friday nights.

rule 5: always leave your shaver on the shower ledge

otherwise, you'll ignore it, and go to work looking like that.

my own room, part 2

distance is sickness, it gives me the blues,
and leaves me uneasy, with rocks in my shoes.

you're a foreign nation, a place where i dont know the rules
looks great from the outside, so i stand in line with the fools.

when i grow up, i want my own room

characters.
i ponder the characters.
who will they be, and what will they say?
what will they face along the way?
will they be pretty, will they be rich? will they wake up alone in a ditch?

never wrote a book before.
smells like a challenge.
getting started in about 27 days.
in the shade of a palm tree on a beach bordering blue water.

mexico kills me.
im hooked on it.
like that guy everybody knows from highschool who was hooked on everything.
he always had a big stupid grin, and a wandering eye.
the kind of guy you'd high-five in the hallway, but never give a ride home.
then, many years later, you crash into him at about 4am at 7-eleven, and now he's hooked on getting you to come play rockband at his place, and you are forced to invent a basket of lies, while trying to get a turn on the self-serve nacho cheese flavored sauce so you can effectively coat your stale tortilla's in a think orange layer of escape.

thats how i feel about mexico vacations.
real, real good.
so im goin back in a couple weeks.
everyone is invited.



if vacation is a sin, let there be no god.

blizzard

i wore my diving mask today, no snorkel though.
tried shovelling my driveway without one, no dice.
insane blizzarding happening right now.


strange feelings on these early days of 2009.

mexico in 41 days.

heavens to betsy

strange feelings on this first day of 0-9.

on the drive home, as i passed people on the snowy street, i thought: what type of couch did you sleep on last night? but maybe they have beds or at least futons.


when i was a kid, we used to go out front and bang pots and pans on new years. i didnt



erickson just called me. with tales of hitchhiking home in a minivan with a girl named charity.

"why are you wearing that dumb shirt?"

"so the people know that im here"