the perfect plan

I’m giving up caffeine today. Today being yesterday, and yesterday really being tomorrow as there is still so much in my system. Actually, scratch that. I’m giving up caffeine on Monday. No wait, Tuesday. I hate Mondays. Change that to Wednesday, it’s a long weekend, so Tuesday is the first day back at the office.

This isn’t working. It’s time to exercise some control.

Alright, the final plan is as follows…

Consume ridiculous quantities of caffeine in a gigantic farewell oh drug of gods celebration tomorrow morning in order to arrive at the gates of Warped Tour feeling awake and refreshed.

Then, throughout the day, I’ll counteract its stimulating effects with bottle after bottle of liquid depressant, AKA beer.

By the end of the night, I’ll surely have reached my natural “level” state of mind. Then I’ll plummet further and likely pass out. Waking up unmedicated the next day will have me feeling incredibly alert in contrast to the show and I’ll be all balanced out again.

What could go wrong?



Obligatory Cottage Picture Numer Three…



They aren’t actually talking.

utensil hybrid

Don’t you damn well tell me you liked me better back the way I used to be.
I am the product of my own mistakes and I am quite happy with that. If you want a sixteen year old Colin, then go look at photos from when I was fourteen, because even then I was two steps ahead of you. Don’t claim to know the reasons behind my design. There’s nothing to know but dreams and madness and the occasional automated response. Who I was and who you wanted me to be, mean about as much as the random number I’m thinking of right now. I live outside of your head and I am not your reconstructed fantasy.

It’s entirely possible that this is all just a dream of yours, and you are the central axis around which this existence spins. But it’s also possible that you are not.

So seriously, the next person who says they miss “the old Colin” gets a spork to the eye.


Obligatory Cottage Picture Number Two, titled, “a Watermelon’s Final Farewell”





And the number was forty-two.

we can rebuild him

The little rich girl didn’t want a squirrel, she wanted an Oompa Loompa.
And wasn’t there a werewolf somewhere in the original? You know, after the big scene with the cheerleaders wrestling topless in the big vat of marshmallow goo?
I’m sure it was before Dracula went to town on the factory creating an army of vampiric Oompa Loompas that took over London and forced the few remaining humans to live in hiding underground in the sewer system. Remember when Charlie had to do battle with his undead Grandfather and they filmed it like a badly choreographed fight scene in Kung Fu, the Legend Continues? That voiceover by David Carridy about how killing family members was okay when they were technically already dead inside really warmed my heart. Also, since when did Charlie have a family?

Yeah, Roald Dahl was one hell of a writer. I’m sure Mr. Burton will more than make up for today’s shortcomings when they release Corpse Bride.

Also, here’s Obligatory Cottage Picture Number One:



I call this one “Colin tries to re-start the boat while hippy Laura spreads peace and love”, and I mean obligatory in more of a voluntary sense.

road burn

I may or may not be slightly drunk right now. That's the thing about me; you never know. Unless I start a post with "I may or may not be drunk right now. Then you know.
But you see, that counts for absolutely nothing. Alcohol or no alcohol, I'm still the same person. You'll realize that if you ever get to know me. Caffeine on the other hand, is a whole other addiction.
In the meantime however, I'm very tired and would like to go to sleep, as you are all likely waking up, so I'll get to that shortly.
Currently, I'm overcome with the urge to give so advice to the young 'uns out there. First off, school is bullshit. Don't sweat it, it's easy. Show up occasionally, get good marks, and just get it over with so you can move on to real life. Which is mostly just more bullshit.
Secondly, girls are complicated. Don't even try to figure them out. Even if you get to the point where you know exactly what to do to make them happy, you won't have a damn clue why it works, and you're just going to have to accept that.
Thirdly, don't ride a bike when you're drunk. Unless it's a choice between riding a bike and driving a car. In that case, choose the bike, but make sure you can ride better than me, 'cause that whole thing about never forgetting how to do it, is also a lie.

Lots of things are lies though. It's up to each and every one of you to figure out the important ones on your own, because when you do, what you'll be left with will be incredible.

Trust me on this one.

Yes, that's right trust the digital words of randomosity.

People who make up words are especially trustworthy.

Goodnight moon.

I liked the title of that last post more than the content

Bala is a small town in Ontario, located about two hundred kilometres (yes, kilometres) north of Toronto. It is home to a rocking little establishment called the Kee, and also offers the best banana splits anywhere on the Canadian Shield, but that part is a whole other story. Some call it a getaway, some call it home. For me, it’s a town full of fun and laughter and naps by the dam.

When planning the trip, I was a little unsure of the long drive and high expectations.
You see, a voice on the radio once told me “It’s worth the drive to Acton.”
I went, and they lied. So when I got to planning this trip, I was afraid; afraid of the betrayal of being betrayed. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Like salt in my eye, only in my heart instead.
So you can see why I was a little unsure of the long drive and high expectations.

But I will be back.


Three quarters of the show:


Matt


Pat


Rich


Also, as a side note to my otherwise empty words, Matt Good is an incredible live performer, though you probably already knew that. What you may not know, is that he is also an incredible live performer. Pat Steward is also an incredibly friendly guy in addition to his shirtless drumming abilities.
There were also these three really familiar looking people up in the VIP area on the balcony that turned out to be Jenn, Raymi, and Phil. I didn’t get to talk to them. It’s alright, I probably would have just said it was nice to meet them and then offered them some Big League Chew. I might have asked Raymi to sign my hat so I could sell it on E-bay.

framed heart sky

His old world was only three and a half hours away, but at that moment, it seemed like it might truly be the dream he’d always wished he’d wake up from.

“The stars here are perfect.”

The words left his lips in a breathy whisper that hung in the cool night air for a moment before travelling up and away over the water. A part of him went with them.

The lake was almost still, and cast a rippling reflection of the heavens above, an image even more beautiful for its imperfections. He cast a stone into its depths, a piece of his heart for the water to hold in safekeeping. And with that, he began to sing.
He was neither talented nor practiced, but here and now, his voice resonated with a tone that surprised even him.

It must have been the stars. Sometimes we forget just how many there really are.

being busy is time consuming

Colin is smiling.
Let me tell you why.
He has found a place that makes him happy. The trees are tall and green and real.
And they aren’t planted in neat little rows.

He is however, back in the city, and will resume his regularly scheduled ranting shortly.
He apologizes for the delay.
He was distracted by a pretty girl.

also

Dear world,

The other day I said I was going away for the weekend, and that was true.
I'm going away for the weekend.

The other day I said I was going away for the weekend, and that was a lie.
I'm going away for the week.

I'll be back in at least eight days, Saturday/Sunday/Monday-ish.
Depends when I decide I need to come home to shower. I'll catch up then.

And post pretty pictures.

love colin.