Easter weekend once again and I am reminded of Easter weekends past.
My parents, whom I am convinced were escaped Nazi war criminals, had assured me that the tastiest and most succulent Easter treats were left on the uppermost ledges of the city's tallest skyscratchers.
Each year they would drive me into the downtown core and drop me off at the base of the city's tallest structures.
"AJ", they'd say, "head for the highest window and find the most sugary of all rewards (giggle, giggle, snort)".
And so I went.
Up stairs and elevators until I had reached the pinnacle of man's marriage to concrete.
Through the nearest window I would slither out and onto the most accessible ledge.
And that ledge, due to my childish size, was always wider than I had anticipated but nevertheless I made my way in search of sugary and teeth-rotting treats.
Against the deepest dark of nights and the chilling stare of the moon I would wend my way all in hope of collecting a succulent Christian treat.

To this day I can hear them giggling and chortling below.

So now ... I smoke cigarettes and laugh at sitcoms.

Fear...

Even though I was alone at the beach with the calm sea behind me, I could not shake the awful sensation that someone or something was watching me ... and making plans.

Where I am right now...

Nothing makes sense...all around me strangeness rears its ugly head...water has become dry to the touch...hats appear for no reason and then...disappear for no reason.

A Tale of Brunch

I just had brunch with God a few hours ago.
We had a pleasant chat, as always, and I spent a delightful hour filling him in on the goings-on in my life.
As a devoted cat-lover he took particular interest in how my new cat was getting along with my older cats. He assured me that everything would work out fine in the end.
We traded a few jokes about our kids and the trouble with getting just the right cable package that doesn't cost an arm and a leg.
Despite my protestati­ons he insisted on picking up the check but I swore that the next one would definitely be on me.
Before he left I asked him if there was anything I should be doing to better my life and the lives of those around me.
He thought for a moment, stroked his well-trimm­ed beard and said "Stay politicall­y active and stop Michele Bachmann".

Next week we're having Italian.

The New Look

I am beginning to look like someone who should be a regular feature on CBC arts programs.

Greeting Card from Neve Cambell

At Christmas of 2003 my late friend James Hill acquired for me this card from actress Neve Campbell who, it turns out, was an old family friend of James.
Not too many people get one of THESE!
 
Thanks Neve, wherever you are.

More Thoughts....

I sit back and smoke a cigarette.
Drink my vodka and orage.
Listen to music.
And all the while I wonder...why can't A PERSON WHO SHALL REMAIN NAMELESS (though he know full well who he is...yeah...I'm talking about YOU buddy!)  figure out how to use a rice-cooker?
By the way....I AM wearing pants right now.  But they don't fit properly so there is always the chance of embarrassment.

Wish I had a cat.  Or maybe a gerbil.  Something manageable since marriage is out of the question.

Thoughts...

carbon dating
wabasso
phone rings

I'll figure it out.