This is not about what I produce....

...It is all about what others receive.

So it's been a while since I've written a blog so I'll probably be a little rusty at it...if that's even possible. A lot of stupid shit has been going on so I felt that I needed to take a break so I could focus my mind on shit. On a side note I made vanilla coke today and it's actually pretty good. But I thought since my twin was a little off yesterday and decided not to write poems I was going to post one of my favourite ones. A poem called Information by Daniel Donahoo. I've made a video to go along with the poem in a spoken-word form.

Here is it written out.

She closes the lid
and unplugs the device
no bigger than her thumb
from the computer.

My life's work, she says. But, it isn't her life's work.

You see, we store information like an Escher painting.
It shouldn't all fit in there. But, it does.
And every day we manage to fit more and more into smaller and smaller spaces until one day
she says,
we will be able to fit all the information the world has
everything that everyone knows and believes and dreams
into nothing.

It will all be there. Stored and filed.
Tagged with any keywords you might imagine.

Our hard drives will be thin air.

They will make nanobots look like elephants.
And elephants will be in there too. Tagged. Accessible with search terms
like grey, ivory,
and the largest land dwelling mammal

We will process away at nothing and understand everything.
We will think of a word and the information will slip in, not through our ears or eyes
but straight thorough our skin. Information will breathe in and out of us,
permeate our skin.

Our knowing will be as deep as it is wide.
You see our work here is to learn so much,

to be so full of knowing,
that all there is left to do is unlearn.

Humanity must get to a point where we let go.
We leave the useless ideas and the spent ideologies in the recycle bin.
like an adolescent brain shedding neurons.
like a snake slithering from its old skin.
like an old man who has come to understand so well the point where reality meets the intangible that he is able to decide which breath will be his last. And, he will enjoy that breath more than any that he has taken in his entire life.

And, her life's work is more than a four meg flash drive.

My life's work, she says, is the impact that this has.

This is not about what I produce. It is all about what others receive.

So since I'm kinda back off my little hiatus I'll leave you with this little tidbit of a post until I write a bigger one. So until than. Take care mah fuckas.

-Izanrelur

And YOU LOOK Like The Kind of Guy Who Listens to Akon...

I'm skipping the Monday poems this week because I'm not feelin' it. It's awful to spend so much time crafting something when you know it's not really your full effort. Like I just told Sean (who is yelling at me for no poems this week) "the only thing worse than no poems is poems without passion."

I've really been giving "prejudice" (in regards to common stereotypes) a lot of thought lately (and before you instantly stop reading thinking fuck she's gonna be all 'wah wah I'm a girl with a lip ring life is so hard' I assure you I am not going to feed you moral bullshit about why you shouldn't judge people. People look certain ways for a reason; it's no accident. This won't be sappy).

Now we all know that everyone is prejudice, because if we weren't then we simply wouldn't be thinking would we? You can't engage in human interaction without some kind of inclination as to how your attitude should be. Or else you'd just stand there drooling mindlessly I s'pose. And if there isn't any human interaction, then I guess you can think whatever you want mais oui?

So hypotethically speaking, how is one to gawk at another human and have no thoughts? What thoughts should you have if you don't know the person? I am a big fan of "people watching"... particularly downtown; everyone is fascinating. I remember one day I was homeless (literally) and I sat at Old City Hall for 4 hours and watched people. I'm going to tell you right now I wasn't thinking neutral thoughts (though that is the proper thing to do...?). Fuck that shit. And I definitely wasn't thinking I bet she's nice. I bet he's nice. about every person either. My mind was more like I bet she takes it in the ass and boy, that fellow sure looks like a sexual predator. Maybe not that extreme but -- okay yes that extreme but I assure you it wasn't always vile and negative. Either way. I was judging these people... but how. And how did I know which description to match up with which person? It sure wasn't random.

People make themselves into whatever stereotype they want to be prejudiced ("pre-judged"? I duno... you know what I'm trying to say!) as. Maybe they don't even know it but everyone does it... Obviously it's not accurate because "everyone is different blah blah blah" but is there some truth? Perhaps others' prejudices help shape you as well?

Just lately I've been exposed to quite the spectrum of people and they've all kind of wow'd me. Story time: The other night at a party, this guy comes up to me (super randomly) and says "you look like a girl who listens to metal." This was basically another person's stereotype of me being whipped in m'face. Of course he was correct, but I didn't think I was giving off the "oh hay I listen to metal l0lz" vibe. Like, no band t-shirts or anything. I was dressed more so to be giving off an "oh hay I'm homeless, got any spare change?" vibe. Then I took a look at my comrade... only to see he was an Abercrombie-esque jock. Sayyywhhaaa4444t? So, basically my prejudice to him was nullified immediately. I honestly would never have approached him at a social event. Either way, he shoved his iPod in my ear (such fabulous innuendo this could be!) and basically rocked out. Later it was one of those "if my friends ever saw me with you, they'd be like da fuck?!" type deals.

I think it's weird because it really is the way you look and your attitude that makes people approach you in certain ways. Methinks you might not be consciously aware of it but I mean there's something there that makes one metal-listener dress in Abercrombie and one as a homeless man. And it's not all about the music either; just general interests. Personality. Charm ;).

For example... there is this uber attractive, blue haired, pierce-y, tattooed, mohawked son'uh bitch who works at D-Tox who I see all the time (and buddy, if you "Stumbled-upon" this, sorry for mentioning you...) and today he engaged in conversation. And he was annoying. I just thought reaaaaaalllly!?!?!?! Like, I had such a good perception of this fellow. But I also s'pose first impressions can be wrong too. So I'll go back to D-Tox...

I feel like, prejudice + first impression = a pretty valid formula into figuring someone out (hence why Mr. Blue Hair needs a second opinion [muah ha ha] because the two cancel each other out).

Honestly, I don't know what I'm talking about. I think this made more sense in my head. But yeah. Keep judging people by their stereotype because there is some accuracy in it; it is intentional. And if ya like their "vibe," I'd say let 'em wow you with their... whoever the fuck they really are. I duno. It's fascinating to me. Very very cool. I made friends with an Abercrombie kid who I never would have given the time of day had he not stereotyped me. Shit's weird. But it can happen.

Yay for prejudice!

-Xesetarip

Ps. Every girl I see wearing Lululemon pants I think "she'd better be on her way to the gym... otherwise she likes it in the ass." Haha love you Tal, you slut.

An Accurate First-Hand Account of the G20 Riots

I was wandering around downtown Toronto on Friday morning (5 am) and it was hilarious. [I am presently thinking of how shitty an introduction that is to a post but my brain isn't all there right now]. Yonge street was completely abandoned and there were cops everywhere. Like, I've never seen so many in my life. Every fucking street corner had a group of about ten cops just chillin' and conversing, drinking coffee and whatnot. I was waiting for Union Station to open (at 5:30) so I ventured around Front street and in that area. I hadn't slept in 25 hours, and prior to that, it was only 3 hours sleep. So sleep deprived, drunk, stoned little me turned the corner of Yonge and Front and saw this:

Well, I got that picture off Google, but it looked exactly the same. And it scared the shit out of me. I literally started thinking Omg I bet they can read my mind with that satellite. I better think cool thoughts or they'll think I'm weird. Can they hear my music too? Better change the song, they probably don't want to hear Flight of the Conchords. Can they read my texts? See through my clothes? MY SKIN? Do they know how much weed I have on me right now?! AAAAH! Like, I wandered around that area for half an hour, and I was the only person who wasn't a cop... and I looked super haggard and suspicious. Like I bet they thought I was trying to blow up Union or something but when they used their satellite x-ray powers to listen to my iPod, and they heard Justin Bieber (or is it Beiber... whatever) singing his wee little heart out, they were like, "Boys, it's okay. Put the tear gas away. She's harmless."

Little do they know...

So Sean and I got involved with the Black Bloc anarchists (our pictures are on Google, but you can't tell because we're in disguise). Basically we went to riot, as all good people with a moral standpoint in life do, and this very attractive punk dude wearing all black came up to us and was all like, "follow me." And ya just don't say no to a very attractive punk dude...

who is holding a crowbar. So he led us through a relatively small (but pushy as fuck) group of protesters (thank goodness he led the way and pushed everyone because I could've easily got trampled). We wound up in some ally on Queen street near the Old City Hall. There was a rapist van parked a way down the ally around this little corner thing, and sir sexalot opened the door and said "get in." Without hesitation Sean fuckin' leaped in there. Like he was all too thrilled I tell ya. I was hesitant because I've watched enough movies in my lifetime to know that rapist vans usually entail rape. But then Black Bloc McGreeneyes was like, "it's okay," and

somehow I trusted him. So we got into the van and there were like 5 other people in there. It was quite squishy. Mr. Violent Protester handed us some scarves and black t-shirts (which I still have and should wear as a groovy memento sometime this week) and urged us to put them on. He then gave us each a fanny pack and all I could think was this fuckin' cramps my style... We opened 'em up and there was an abundance of golf balls inside. GOLF BALLS. Before I could say, "WHY THE FUCK DO YOU GUYS GET CROWBARS AND MOLOTOVS AND WE'RE STUCK WITH GOLF BALLS?!" Sean said, "Yes! I love golfing!" and started inquiring about where we'd be playing in all of the commotion. There was an excruciatingly awkward silence and then I think Sean got the hint that our fanny packs full of golf balls were going to be our badass weapons. We discussed our top secret plan to blow up a couple police cars (and aimlessly whack people with golf balls) and then headed towards Bay. This is us:

Well, actually we were right behind that white sign. Like RIGHT there. Shitty. The dude in the white hoodie kept saying, "They locked the Eaton Centre down!? What the fuck? How am I supposed to go to Hollister?!" He was kind of out of place...

This is the part in the story where things get interesting: So we're bustling along Bay in a band of badassness (alliteration WIN) when suddenly this spaceship comes out of fucking nowhere. Hotty McSexpants let out the most unattractive feminine squeal and pummelled through the crowd. Didn't even get his number. Whatever. So Mr. Second-in-command (his name was Zack or Emilio or something) announced "BALLS RRRREADY!" and all the Black Bloc people opened their fanny packs and started chucking balls at the ship. Sean pulled his pants down revealing his balls, and quickly pulled them back on when he realized how much of a tool he was. While the golf balls, torches and pitchforks were flying through the air, this crazy light beam (yes, just like the movies) comes out of the ass of the spaceship and through some sort of anti-gravity magic sucks Sean and I into the ship (oh, and on the way up I got hit in the leg with a fuckin' golf ball and now I have this humorous circular bruise which is slightly less embarrassing than the mushroom shaped one I had a while ago...)

I'm just putting this out there, the aliens on the ship looked like vaginas. Like literally. It was disgusting. I had to stare at my feet the entire fucking time. Now, Sean's just staring at them in awe because he loves being surrounded by plenty of vaginas (first time for everything I s'pose) and I'm staring at my feet thinking OMG I'M GONNA GET RAPED! This scenario should have happened hours ago in the ally but NO I'm going to get raped by a pack of vaginaliens. Then, the big one opened its lips to speak (omg I just gagged typing that)... this was our conversation:

Vaginalien- "Are you the infamous Alien Super Duo we've heard so much about?"

Me- "Infamous? Pretty sure we only have 28 fans on Facebook..."

Vaginalien- "Yea, we'd rather lurk you than actually boost your ego by 'liking' you."

Sean- "I'm responsible for all of our fans!"

Me- "I do all the writing asshole"

Sean- "FUCK YOU BITCH I'M ON HIATUS"

Me- "Fuck being on hiatus."

Vaginalien- "Fuck Scorpion from Mortal Kombat?"

Me and Sean- "Da fuck!?"

Vaginalien- "We have a proposition for you! We have this very important ritual that can only be performed by half-human-half-alien-identical-yet-opposite-sex-twins"

Sean- "Well, Camille and I are the only half-human-half-alien-identical-yet-opposite-sex-twins in the entire world!"

Vaginalien- "Exactly. Now what I need you to do, is have sex with Scorpion from Mortal Kombat and then consume him. We are virgin vegans so, it's impossible for us."

Me- :|

Sean- "Siiiiick"

Me- "What will this accomplish?"

Sean- "Who gives a fuck!"

So Sean proceeded to do his business with Scorpion from Mortal Kombat while the troupe of oversized, alien, talking vaginas watched. In the meantime, I found a window in the spaceship with a perfect view of a police car. So I threw golf balls at it until it exploded. Yes folks. That was me.

So that is the TRUE story of my G20 riot experience. And if you're wondering what happened after the whole Sean-having-sex-with-and-then-consuming-Scorpion-from-Mortal-Kombat... Nothing unfortunately. Well, they gave us a free time machine, which will save Sean a lot of work because he's been developing one for waaaay too long. We're still tweaking how to use it, since I didn't want to sit there and watch them explain it to me *gag*. But the first stop, I assure, will be to Hitler's house, to get him to paint us a family portrait.

Peace, love, and fucking riots

Xesetarip

Ps. Okay, initially the riots were kind of amusing, but presently I'm mortified at how unnecessarily out of hand things have become. Kinda glad I'm not living there right now

The Worst Monday Poems Ever

Similar Enough...

I love metaphors

They are beautiful

Like the sunrise.

And that

My love

Was a similie.

But I Don't Eat Steak!

This is what I ate for dinner

Rainbow variety

Oh, so delicious

Usually one should feel bad

Thinking about it, I once had a pet fish

Well NOW It's Tuesday, Fuck

I need a poem that will rhyme

But also have some meaning

11:50, I've got no time!

So I will just keep writing.

"Meaning and Writing? Those don't rhyme!"

"Hey, you already used 'rhyme' in this poem!"

"That sentence had too many lines"

Damn critics; don't want to know 'em.

That shit was awful, holy shit.

"The same word, twice, in one sentence!?"

Fuck metapoetry. I quit.

G'Monday folks, and good riddance.

A 4th poem!?

I know it could be wrong, yes

But I've found it

I'll keep it up

I'll keep acting up

You live in your miserable world

and dwell and mope and philosophize

We share the same miserable world.

I'll let my thoughts away with the wind

trailing on the sad sounds.

Serenity.

-Xesetarip

Pie: 2 Types

Once my little lad gets his brain out of the sand methinks we'll have two authors working on this. I've had a bunch of petit thoughts lately (seems my brain capacity can't handle larger things) so here are some tid-bits from my brain:

The first item up today is something I've been dwelling on for an entire thirty seconds. You see, there was this vocal little asshole flying around my head (no, not my sister): a mosquito. And if you're anyone who knows anything about me, you'll know that I don't kill bugs. But if you know anything else about me, you'll know that I am a mosquito magnet and my bites swell up to the size of quarters on average. You can imagine this is quite a situation for me. So I just let the little fucker fly around and hoped he'd wander into another room or something. But no. Persistent. So I was given no choice but to squash him with a tissue box. And as his dead mangled body fell to the ground I thought, hopefully the dogs will eat him because I'm not pickin' that shit up. But now I feel SO guilty. Like, I just killed something. And yes, my room may be called the Death Chamber but that doesn't really mean anyone has to die! I also just referred to a mosquito as a "someone." Hm.

Secondly we have the 'ol: Holy fuck I've gotten fat. If the notorious "freshman 15" (which is very accurate) were to be divided into a personal pie chart, the pie would be: 10% of the tubbyness went to my hips, 15% to my belly, 2% to my chin and 73% to my tits. Not bad. Then I ate the pie.

This came to my mind today when I brought a pair of shorts I hadn't worn since last summer to work with me so I could bear (is that the correct homonym?) the heat walking home. Well... let's just say I ended up walking home in my uniform. Long black pants woo. Tubbyness = 1, Camille's comfort = 0. But seriously, I'm still damn fine.

Okay it is the next day and I have more to say. Sick poem. This is why I'm awesome right now:

1) Baked

2) On my roof

3) With my sis

4) And an entire fucking pie

5) And with my laptop.

AMAZING NEWS FOR MYSELF! (and all you other lucky buggers ;) )! I bought $160 worth of panties today for $20! Yes'm that's 20 pairs of pant-ehz. Yes so when I got home from my amazing La Vie En Rose adventure, I was talking to my mum saying "zomg I saved $140 and I'm such a materialistic little shit and always spend too much so YAY for saving" and she told me of this hilarious thing her girlfriend came up with when she was my age (this is on the topic of panties btw... my brain is a wee bit allovadaplace right now). When you go out with a guy, you wear extremely ugly underwear and then you'll give yourself the pretend willpower to not sleep with him. Because you'll be too scared like omg these underwearz are so fugly that I look like m'gramma and therefore will lead to a substandard performance on my behalf. Yea. Groovy.

Ugly underwear = anitslut.

Oh, my friend Ben and I were discussing the history of the pencil, and he showed me this hilarious (yet factual!?) little piece of information. Check out the dude who patented the eraser-attached-to-the-pencil. Fuckin' eh! That's entertaining.

Anywho I'm going to watch Super Troopers with m'sis. Can't wait to see Reefer Madness... looks priceless.

CIAO POLLOS

-Xesetarip

Serenity

Before you read, turn on this song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pThe6IjN_qk

Serenity is the best feeling. In the world I think. Well... I can think of something maybe equivalent but let's not go into that right now... ahem...

Anyway, this weather has been fantastic to my mind. Just the epitome of relaxation. Nature has a way of doing that to you. Right now it is very windy and I can hear it rattling on the windows. I was trying to relax earlier and it was as if the wind went, "hello there. I will calm you down and give you the best feeling in the world, babe," in like a deep black man's voice. And I decided to venture out into the yard to greet the wind. I plunked myself down and let the atmosphere do it's thing with me.

Call me cliché but after the occasion I lit up a cigarette and just vegetated in ecstasy. And by that I mean I smoked a j and ate a banana :).

I came back inside feeling like... well generally just fantastic. And I can still hear the wind; making my house creek. My iTunes has some sort of psychic ability to understand how I'm

feeling; it serenades me with exactly what I need to hear to clear my mind.

I don't want to be surrounded by negativity. I feel like I've found this peace that I can activate (for lack of a better word) at any time. Kind of like a meditate-on-the-go type thing. Wherever I go there is an overpowering amount of emotion, and it's hard not to get involved. Peoples' behaviour is often emulated by those around them. And I feel like I want to keep my guard up from that; I've learned it only does harm.

So when I experience minute things like the sound of the wind, the smell that comes when it rains, a cloudy haze in the sky, a show of lightning, the seagulls in the drive-thru...

I feel tranquil.

Serene.

-Xesetarip

Ps. This is a baby maple tree that warms my heart. I wanted a picture of lightning but I didn't have one and I'm not about to steal someone else's photograph.

Monday Poems... on Tuesday?!

The Antonym Of Rough

There are soft things around my house

I'm thinking of them presently

Things like my dog or my silk blouse

And to the touch they're heavenly.

I rub my feet in my blanket;

Oh boy does it feel euphoric!

I roll around on the carpet

Yea, you bet I'm that eccentric.

I seem to have a static charge

Perhaps I will come and zap you

The static makes my hair enlarge (for lack of a better word)

And-- holy shit, it's soft too!

Midnight Snack

Triscuits, Triscuits

Such marvellous biscuits

But such strange spelling

I shouldn't be dwelling.

Because.

I have Triscuits.

To You, From You

it can, at times, be too much to absorb

it's safer if you go for what's true

look at yourself

do you wonder

how different things could be

and what it could be like

just an idea

because you know you can always begin again

don't let your life be hindered

right now, your feelings may be covered in ash

i think soon you'll see

your heart will come out of its coma

and it will be beautiful

Much love and sexy times,

Xesetarip

Kids These Days

At work today something miraculous happened. It actually took me by surprise and left me with a stumped-but-sincere grin on my face. I was working in the dining area (yay lobby shift!), getting 'er all cleaned up and whatnot and I went in the play place area to wipe tables. Then BAM this little kid, in an ignorant state of play place euphoria, ran past me and hit me on the way by. And just as my conscious was about to say to itself, what a stupid little shit, the kid said "sorry!" I could not believe my ears! A kid. With manners. At McDonald's!? I never thought I'd see the day.

And as if that wasn't enough, when I was leaving the play place carrying a bunch of trays, newspapers and other shit this other little boy held the door open for me. Let me tell you, this kid was like 10. And never in the history of my work has a little kid sacrificed ten seconds of their playtime to hold the door open for me. And rarely in the history of my job are kids polite. Like, very very rarely. So I was already in awe from ONE kid being polite to me and then suddenly another one has manners? It was too overwhelming. I kinda spazzed mentally and was like "thanks SO much bud" to the kid.

Then I thought, could my perceptions of children be wrong!?

...The answer is no. They're still accurate.

Obviously the bliss can only last for a short time and then all the little assfaces come back out to play. I was washing the doors (which are so stylishly made of glass... which I guess would classify it as a window? But with door handle.) and this kid runs into it thinking it was a push door and gets his greasy-child-diseased fucking fingerprints all over it. Now, most people (including kids) with half a brain would realize that if you push a door and it doesn't open, it is either locked, not a door but in fact a wall, or you have to pull it. But no. This little shit head pushes the door again with his slimeball hands. Thanks a lot kid. Then mom and dad figure out their kid is a dumbass and open it for him, and I hold open the second set of doors for the family. NOT ONE OF THEM SAYS THANK YOU. Were they raised in a barn? Likely. Probably why their kid is so dumb. And greasy.

Later in my shift I ended up [accidentally] holding the door open for this family of fucktards again because I didn't realize it was them. If you're rude to me once, you don't get a second door-holding. Nope, nuh-uh. Anywho, they didn't say thank you and then Mommy Bitchsomuch starts complaining to her miniature dumbass about how the table I just cleaned isn't clean enough and how the "cleaning lady" (me!?!?!?!) should do something about it. I wiped her table with a decent amount of fake McFrendliness and alas, no "thank you."

So. I have come to this conclusion: Dumb ass ill mannered ugly greasy parents lead to dumb ass ill mannered ugly greasy kids. Please raise your pets-- err children, the right way. It's weird that the fact that a child was polite astonished me so much today. It's sad that majority of the kids I see at work are all terrible brats and they obviously reflect their parents. I know I'm making too big of a deal about this but it's something I see all the time and it's so frustrating. Before I worked there I liked kids a lot and now I have this bias that they're all obtuse devil children.

At least there are some who know what they're doin'. Momma raised me right. I guess :P

-Xesetarip

Ps. This is so shitty. I will compensate with Monday Poems. Promise.

♫ I Said There Ain't No Cure...

I would like to begin saying I am so dedicated to writing that I am at McDonald's using their WiFi so I can... ya know... write. Also, I am eating a much desired parfait which is making me oh so chipper. I must say though, I'm quite self conscious that someone is getting napkins behind me and reading these delicious words. FUCK YOU PEOPLE BEHIND ME LOOKING AT MY MONITOR! Just kidding. Read my blog. It's aliensuperduo.blogspot.com. Check it out. You're mentioned and everything... Okay now go away please.

Omg GROSS GROSS GROSS some dude just walked in here with bare feet. I duno how good of an idea that is, but since I work here and I've seem the bathrooms and also I am fully aware of the lack of aim gentlemen have whilst pissing and then they track it through the store...

Okay no it's not that bad but really. Weird. Dirty. Athlete's foot.

So I've been moving from one house to the next these past few days and seeing a lot of things from my past and how cool/a fag I was. In that order. No worries folks I'm cool again. But yes, on the topic of moving, while my sister was taking some skis out of the car (and swinging them an inch away from my face) I came to a thought (is that an expression? If not, it should be). And that thought was this: A pair of skis is like a love-triangle-gangbang... there may be two of you but you're being ridden by the same person; at the same time. Fuck, I'm so intellectual.

Okay this is just a note to Sean: GRANOLA IS NOT MADE OF NUTS. STOP CALLING IT NUTS. It's funny but not.

"Why the fuck would you order those cups? They're fuckin' poison" -Sean on the McRecalled cups. To add my own two cents, they're ugly and they'll go out of style quickly. Like my shoes. But whatever. Keep up with the tiiiiimes man. I don't know what I'm saying. Whatever.

Okay, my sister just found a fortune from a Chinese restaurant dessert in her pocket and it said "time heals all wounds." I say. Yes. Unless your wound is decapitation. That would just never work out.

Also, these typical Oshawa dirtfucks are here (no offence Sean and other Oshawaians) and they're all like "yo I'm so gangstuh I have to complain about eurrythang like cell phones and lettuce and ketchup packets and my ugly ass baggy pants that hang down to my knees."

I need to wrap this up because it is Saturday and I have to get drunk or high or... play Euchre with old folks or something. So I have a final thought: To all of you Sad Sallys out there who are feelin' the summertime blues, chin up! I'd personally hug you all but I'm already kinda creepy, and I wouldn't want to exacerbate that. It will be better in time m'loves.

PEACE!

Ps. Speaking of summertime blues the Stray Cats are amazing! The song is so true too. Like "no you can't take the car Camille yadda yadda..." C'mon now. Girl's gotta get to the mall somehow.

Pps. Daddy bought me a new phone and it's pink. Pink is my second least favourite colour in the world (to yellow) and yet there is some kind of zest to this pink phone (my old phone was fuschia and also quite stupendous). I'm going to keep it and be mega ballin'. How girly am I? *bats eyelashes*

-Xesetarip

Montreal Trip Part 2: The New Jerusalem

Friday night was the night of the concert and it was at the Bell Centre and we were meeting my uncles friends so we met at the bar attached to it The Cage or something like that. It was pretty cool had a bunch of Montreal Canadians shit in it. We get there and meet up with them. Phil was an English teacher at a school so he spoke English well. Alain spoke the second best English but Phil would mock him when he said something wrong, which was pretty funny. The other people we met were Alain's neighbor and friend John Michael, Alain's lawyer, his girlfriend and her brother. An amazing surprise that Alain had was that the tickets were for 3rd row center and that they were completely free (He has connects with the band and is part of the crew) that and we had backstage/after party passes. So we ate, drank some beers, they went out and smoked some weed (I did not) and we entered the Bell Centre and walked to our seats.

As we were coming in some boring opener was playing (Usually when The Musical Box performs there is no opener but apparently in Montreal there is always an opener....he was making me fall asleep). Fortunately he stopped and the lights dimmed. It was fucking time! The band came out and 'Phil Collins' stood 10 feet away from us as he greeted the crowd in French reading from a paper sheet (Which was all acting because Denis, the man who plays the singing part of Phil Collins is fluent in french). The opened the show with Dance On a Volcano and the excellent part was since the Denis-Phil couldn't play drums as he would walk over to drums to start to play them he'd walk behind an amp and would switch with the Marc Laflamme-Phil though with Makeup and everything going on on stage you would hardly notice it. The first song that actually stood out to me was Firth of Fifth, which was a song played at the Selling England by the Pound tour. I think they did an excellent job performing it and the extended drumming by Marc-Phil was amazing. Though the highlight of the show has to be the performance of Supper's Ready. A 23 minute song of epic proportions. I'll say it now that I prefer the Selling England Show, so naturally I liked the Supper's Ready from Selling England but man this was an amazing performance. During the part of 'Apocalypse of 9/8ths' Denis-Phil appeared from a platform above the drums and was dressed in all white and had an immense amount of spot lights on him making him shine like crazy. Then strobe lights follow and it seems like the world is going to fucking blow up and you get the feeling of death and destruction coming around the corner and your balls shrivel up into your stomach. Then out of fucking no where SMOKE! Like fuck! so epic I have a huge boner but I'm pissing my pants scared at the same time cause the song is so emotionally scary! Then he comes back to sing "666 is no longer alone, He's getting out the marrow in your back bone' so right there you're know you're pretty much FUCKING SCREWED! like completely DONE! This dragon is going to have your head. Then out of no where A FUCKING LASER! Like not just a fucking laser pointer it was like a fucking 360 degrees fucking laser stick on stage! As it was mixing it with the smoke it was pretty fucking sick to. Denis-Phil got up and started moving it around and shit. Pretty fucking intense! Also I should add well this is going on there is a projected video above the band playing of like bombs going off, people getting killed and like a hurricane killing shit. Like you have to understand that this part of the song is like That little boy down the street who used to kick you in the balls and steal your lunch money well you walked to school. I can imagine that all the people here who are stored have already or are ready to shit there pants, seriously like prairie dogging it. But then suddenly everything quiets down! We fucking won man! He comes out and sings 'and it's hey babe with your guardian eyes so blueee...' The smoke is rising but is the stage is still filled and you can barely make him out. MORE SMOKE!!!! At this point the music has basically turned into a giant penis shaped thing and is fucking you all over. Suddenly again the fucking laser comes back! OMG! LASER:O but not is moving. It goes from a wide circle to a thin one, fucking up and down to the ceiling to the floor. During this, Denis-Phil slowly ends the song Supper's Ready. After this the crowd stands up in there there sweaty, cum fills, pissed pants and proceeds to give a standing ovation for about 10 minutes. The song is fucking epic. At the bottom I will give a link to this song and man Fucking take 23 minutes, turn the lights off, turn your fucking speakers up and listen to this song. You're piss and cum, trust me. Every song after that was amazing but nothing really compared to that. After that we went backstage, met the band, drank free beer and partied it up. Then slowly waddled our way to our hotel.

The next day was kinda of a tourism day. We went out to Old Montreal and looked some crazy shit. Went into a church called Notre-Dame which I'm sure is a replica of the one in France and JESUS it's fucking huge and epic. We decided that since the tickets and all that were free we would get Alain a 100 dollar bottle of 18 year old Scotch. Around 4 we checked out and started making out way to Alain's house which was in Beloeil kinda like how Oshawa is to Toronto. We got there and started drinking some beers, Alain made us an epic dinner and we just listened to music and drank the night away. We decided to open the bottle of scotch and take one drink so we all poured ours and gave a cheers. I then shot it back and found out it tasted like crap LMAO. Apparently you're suppose to sip it. But after that first and only round we then took another one. (I should let you know it is Me, my Uncle, Alain and Phil and Phil had to be to school at 6 am for some fund raiser.) But the night ended around 3. We were all pretty drunk and decided to play Supper's Ready on Alain's stereo as loud as possible and we got to half the song when the stereo broke. I'm pretty sure at this point the whole bottle of the scotch was done and Phil had to get up in 2 hours. So he went home. Alain then went to bed and my uncle stayed out side taking random drunk photos (which he has on his camera) Finally going to bed at around 4 and then waking up at 9 to come home hung over. In the end it was a fucking EPIC time and I can't wait to go back and hang out with Alain and Phil which were really fucking nice, down to earth, chill french guys.

So that was basically my trip to Montreal. Here is the link to this song. Download IT!
Genesis - Supper's Ready

-Izanrelur

Random Thoughts Again. Not Sober.

I can't wait to move back to Toronto because it is fucking amazing. Also I hate it here so much. Only 3 more months and I can return! I'm so excited. Methinks I'm going to transfer to work down there so... yea... it's where I belong for sho. I really miss seeing the stars though. It's a compromise I'll have to face.

There is too much hate in the world. I hate hate. I use the word so selectively because it's just thrown around inappropriately (yes I used it in the previous paragraph. It was justified). People all around me choose to look at things negatively. Why? I don't know. It's nasty. People are nasty. And I hate how they hate for no logical reason.

Why is everyone talking about Eminem?

My TV receiver was confiscated from me. My laptop was confiscated from me. My marijuana was confiscated from me. My soul was confiscated from me. And so were my clothes ;).

Thank you for "liking" our blog. Thank you thank you thank you thank you! (The pink is to show love).

I'm sad because Sean said, "Imagine if I died." Don't die. Friends. Listen to me. DON'T DIE BECAUSE I'LL MISS YOU!

I may say "yo" and live near Oshawa but believe me, I'm not a gangster.

Sean just said "There's nothing to do when you're dead" BUT HE COULDN'T BE MORE WRONG. You can look at people naked and haunt people and walk through walls and fly and pretend you're Harry Potter and watch any TV show you want and scare people and eat lots of things for free (because if you steal it, really, WHO will suspect the ghost!?) and travel to Europe and swim under water for a super long time and yell at strangers and be all poltergeist-y and view your own damn funeral. Ps. If I die, I really want the green hearse from Six Feet Under or something of the like to drive me around. Also, no dress code. I don't want you concerned about your fashion. I want to be the hottest one at the event.

Have you thought about your favourite colour lately? Because sometimes I do. Mine is either light grey or vermillion. I simply can't choose.

I am drunk. How fuckin' awesomely do I type!? You should see me text. I'm a machine. I should be in a circus or something.

Did I mention I miss Toronto? Holy moly.

All I want to do is listen to music but because my laptop was STOLEN form my room (I am being punished you see [being a devil child has its ups and downs]) my iTunes is unavailable. And since my iPod is SO small and contains only 337 songs (which is hilarious when I'm on song #1 in shuffle and it says 1 of 337 or 1337 [nerdy? Naaah. Sexy!]) I CAN NOT LISTEN to all of my new tunes and I AM SO UPSET.

I saw a shitty band tonight and had a lot of fun. There were hot men. And I'm content with that. Like hot drummer. First of all, musicians are automatically hot (if they're actually like, good, and not lame). Secondly, drummers are even HOTTER (I mean, me and Kels are drummers [ish] and how fuckin' hot are we!?!?!). Finally, he was actually good looking too. So... wow. On this note, I recently realized that every guy I have ever been interested in is scronny and a musician. SO! Fellas. Want to take a strange morbid chick on a date? If ya meet the prerequisites let me know. Heh heh.

Night folks

-Xesetarip

Ps. THE NEW LAYOUT IS AMAZING! Izanrelur kicks ass

Pps. Sean said he'd try and convert me to PC... that will never happen. Sorry bud.

Montreal Trip Part 1 : A flower!?

I am back from Montreal and have recovered fully. It was full of bars, friends, music and just generally relaxing. On Thursday morning we left at 10:30am to start driving to Montreal. We just blasted music for 4 hours and 30 minutes as we drove there.

The fun really started when we got there. We got up to our room, dropped off out luggage, sat down and cracked open our first beer. After about 3 we decided to go up to the special club area that came with out room. Before we left though we made sure we all poured our beer into a cup so we had a 'traveler'...would have got in trouble if we got caught but we didn't so who the fuck cares! Chilled up there for a while and went back to the room for about 4 maybe 5 more beers then decided to head out to our first bar.

We jumped into a cab and got dropped off at some french named street. Don't remember the name of the bar we went to first but we went there. Sat down and got some pizza and more beer. We got to know our waiter a bit and bought him a drink...I guess you can drink on the job in Montreal. More beers as the night went on and more drinks for our waiter but eventually we got up to leave and go to a new bar. As we were leaving though we walked by a table with 4 really drunk men who we started to talk to. A crowd of 7 or 8 clubbing girls walked by and the guys whistled then one laid down a 20 and said Sean go kiss one and you can have it. Since I'm in a relationship with a girl I love very much a happily declined this. They 4 guys got up to 80 dollars to get me to do it which I still declined and they walked away drunk, happy and I'm sure a bit disappointed.

We started our way back to the hotel but slipped into bars on the way and grabbed a beer here and there. Eventually becoming really fucking lost, I mean it's hard to navigate an unknown city when you can't even tie your own shoe you're so drunk and everyone is speaking some foreign words you can't even contemplate how to begin to understand what the fuck they're saying. After a while finally running into a English speaking guy who is staying at our hotel...though he is absolutely drunk and lost also, which ended up with us taking a cab like for 30 seconds to our hotel.

The next morning started out with 'Where the fuck is my credit card?!' Which I responded 'Fuck man! I dunno'. My uncle then proceeded to call and talk to the bank, no charges were made after ours and that was good so he put it on a suspension. The one thing that is really bad for a really bad hangover is walking up hill 20 minutes in scorching heat to see if we had left it at one of the 100 bars we went to. We finally found it at one bar. We asked a waiter and he sent us on a 10 min journey to find their security room. When we get there they have it but one problem, my uncle forgot his ID to claim in. FUCK! luckily this is Montreal and they don't give a fuck and they gave it to us.

The rest of the day was just site seeing around down town and getting lunch. The evening though was the reason we went to Montreal... The Musical Box concert. I will finish the other half tomorrow so you better check back to find out the rest of the weekend.

Izanrelur

Ps. So how is everyone liking the new layout! Make sure you comment or write on our blog to let us know!

Monday Poems #2

Oh, Just An Adventure

I went to Arizona

We drove there in the car

Seriously nothing rhymes with Arizona

It was really fuckin' far.

We chose to drive through Bowmanville

It seemed the proper way

The excitement made me super ill.

At least the music wasn't gay.

We got pulled over by a cop

"Hey where are you kids goin'?"

"TO ARIZONA, WE CAN'T STOP!"

"Oh shit, sorry for slowin'"

Once we got past the dim-wit

Sex radio was airing:

"My fetish is a girl to shit

On me while she is swearing."

We got there before midnight

And saw a cactus or two

We left quickly and with fright:

We saw the dude with the poo.

Dynamiitti Napoleon

Napoleon Dynamite lives in my closet

He has the best hair

He and Kip in there together

I didn't know they were there.

Ps. Aaron Ruell is cute and should maybe

be a musician or something.

If Only You Could See The End

there once was a boy

you met him too

didn't you

he had a strange aura

kind of peaceful rather

irresistible

you can't help emotions

they just come

his too poetic syntax

glued in your mind; paralysing your body

-Xesetarip

What To Do In Times of Distress

I needed help. Sean was there:

Sean kathryn says:

what you're wanting to do is

Sean kathryn says:

take your left pinky

☮ Camille says:

okay

☮ Camille says:

preparing left pinky for verb

Sean kathryn says:

dip it in to 1 ounce vetable oil, 2 ouce whipcream and 1 cup water

☮ Camille says:

Brb gotta get it

Sean kathryn says:

take your right big toe and touch it to your right index finger

Sean kathryn says:

(don't bring your hand down bring your foot up)

Sean kathryn says:

close your eyes imagine a giant cactus

Sean kathryn says:

and save your name backwords 16.3 times

Sean kathryn says:

it has to be 16.3

Sean kathryn says:

or it wont work

[after a passage of time]

☮ Camille says:

Okay

☮ Camille says:

DONE

☮ Camille says:

Hopefully it works holy shit

Sean kathryn says:

man

☮ Camille says:

I know

☮ Camille says:

It's tough to bring your foot up

Sean kathryn says:

I studied wizardy at Hogwartz

Sean kathryn says:

don't ma fuckin fuck around

Folks, Izanrelur is brilliant.

-Xesetarip

Food vs Illness ft. The Death Chamber

Good day. This evening, I went to Subway and I ordered some roasty beefy subs for some bizarre carnivores I know, and I got myself a groovy veggie patty thing. I've been so super used to not eating meat... like it doesn't even affect/effect (I still don't know the difference between those words. English minor can suck my tits) me anymore... unless someone cooks bacon parce que that used to be my one weakness in the world, and even still I don't eat it. I'm impressed with myself *pat on the back.* Anyone who knew me before I stopped eating meat knew that bacon was the way to my heart. Now breakfast of any kind [not containing meat] is the way. Parfaits. Mmm.

OH speaking of parfaits... I went to McD's this morning for coffee because I was sick and lazy and I decided to get a parfait and IT WAS EXPIRED since yesterday evening. I uh... ate it anyway... and it was good. Also I'd like to clarify that I didn't order it from the McD's I work at (we got standards yo).

Mind you, I can't really taste anything right now so it really could've been disgusting. I'm sick and I hate being sick because you can't taste your food which is like my main joy in life. I bought a lovely Iced Cap. today and I thought to myself "this is so exciting because it is going to be so delicious to drink" and then I took a sip and it was insta-heartbreak. It tastes like cold+sugar and then after a while I get that oh-so-welcoming sour coffee taste in my mouth. Being sick is awful.

What's not awful is discovering a fabbity fab loft in your garage (even though you're moving in 6 days and you can't really enjoy it, oh well). And I was chillin' up there last night bein' all sick and whatnot with music and the lovely rain comin' down. Good thing my friends were willing to chill with a viciously contagious sicko. I had a marvellous night! My friend showed me this song that is probably one of the greatest I've heard. Click here to enjoy it! Thanks Jon (you have the best music taste bud).

In other excellent news SEAN IS BACK and I am so happy because a girl is nothin' without her twin! I'm sure he has some interesting stories that I'm anxious to hear about...

I've really been uncreative lately. This move is gettin' to me. I have a sweet dead body compartment in my closet which is wicked. No it's not a joke it really exists. And my room is no longer called "my room" it's called The Death Chamber. It's painted a lovely vermillion (which is such a badass word).

ENOUGH with my redundant babble. Take care!

-Xesetarip

Ps. TWICE this week little children have ran out in front of my car without looking and holy fuck does it ever scare me. Where are these dumbass kids' parents? Like, I know I look like the Grim Reaper but I really would rather not run over your kids. TRAIN THOSE THINGS!

Miscellaneous Thoughts of the Sober Variety

I can only update my Facebook status so many times in one day. And I still don't know how to use Twitter (not that anyone would read mine anyway) so here are some Seinfelds AKA thoughts that are redundant yet interesting:

Why do some people only sneeze once (like me) and others can sneeze like 4 times in a row? I think only once have I sneezed twice. How come it's the same every time!?

How can McParfaits (my one true love) be only 2g of fat (plus like.5 with granola) when they taste way better than ice cream (and the McFlurries have like 20g)!

I prefer the rain. And to rain, I prefer storms. And to storms, I prefer... parfaits.

I wish people driving in front of me would realize that when you drive over a hill, you have to accelerate more. It's science or some shit. MOVE YOUR ASS.

I also wish the stupid tweens would realize that I'm not afraid to run them over if they walk in front of my car.

My final wish is that Sean will discontinue to text and drive because I fear for his life.

Macs are better than PCs.

I made Gatorade (from powder) in the blender today because I can never stir the crystals enough so they dissolve. It worked!

I've never called in sick to work in my life... and today might have to be the first day. I'm all sneezy and I don't think that's ideal for fast food.

I feel guilty really easily and I hate it. It makes me do stupid things like not kill bugs or never call in sick to work.

Phlegm. Delicious spelling of a delicious word.

Finally... Here is an awesome car:

Or check out this bad boy. $7,100 on Auto Trader oooh baby. Wicked custom paint job.

-Xesetarip

Off to Montreal

Tomorrow morning I will be off to Montreal for a weekend of booze and a concert. But the booze is the best part! You best keep this place growing Xesetarip and I promise a hugeeee ass post about it when I get home.

Just Because You're Ugly...

I never watch TLC. I don't even think it's on my TV. But alas I am at Kelsey's house and here there is TLC and we have been watching it all day. And there is this fascinating show called "Toddlers & Tiaras." And I hate it and I love it and I hate it.

So basically it's these fat fucking American ugly ass hick mothers lathering their small children in makeup and fucking spray tan and shit. And they spend like three grand on glittery slutty ass outfits so they can live vicariously through their dumb kids. Like, these kids can't even talk! But they prance around on stage because their parents are too ugly and pathetic to do anything with their lives. And seriously if you watch the show, 9/10 mothers are hideous and gross and fat. IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY. And their kids are all like "nooo I don't want to do this mommy. I don't want fake eyelashes and eyeliner and wigs and fake teeth..." but the moms go "NO KID I'm too ugly for you to not do this." Well, kinda...

Kids are not dolls. They are not play things. It just... I don't even know. I have too many thoughts about these awful people. This is why I hate kids, because of their dumb ass parents. These spoiled kids are going to grow up and be so awful. And then they're going to have kids and bring them into McDonald's and they're going to run and scream and pee in the Play Place.

So yea. Pageants. Don't do that to your kids. It's gross. You're gross. If you want them in some kind of competition, I suggest curling. Good hearty Canadian competition. I guess hockey could work too... At least they'll get exercise and won't turn out fat and ugly and thus making them put their children into pageants and continue the cycle of awful.

-Xesetarip

Ps. Sorry for so much prejudice. I'm aware of it.

Let's Talk Life

The Toronto Star has the best obituaries. They go into detail about the person's life and their contribution to society and their family. Not like the Toronto Sun where it merely talks about when the person died and who is mourning; nothing meaningful about the person. But that is the most important part in honouring someone's death. Clearly the more loving mourners purchase ads in the Star. It's amazing what you can learn about someone from a $50 blurb.

I want to go to a random person's funeral. Who knows? It could be yours! There's something about learning the history of a deceased person that fascinates me. See what they accomplished and how their family appreciated them. Everyone leaves their own mark, but not everyone can be praised. Little victories: a father who was always there for his children, a war veteran, someone's best friend, a dirt bag serial killer (Hey, I bet their story would be interesting). Funerals are just a celebration of life, whether good or bad; everyone has a contribution, and there is something beautiful about that.

Death has always fascinated me and I will admit that I'm quite morbid (I mean, I read obituaries for goodness sake). I embrace spirits and ghosts... assuming they're real. I'll admit to the fact that they could be psychological but I'm leaning towards otherwise. I'd love to work in the "death" industry (ie. somehow with funerals) but my education doesn't allow for it. Perhaps I'll make a documentary about it someday.

In the meantime I'll continue to respect the peace, or recklessness, of the dead and linger on my morbid fascinations. I had a fantastic quote from a piece in the death notices today but I can't find it online and I currently don't have the paper. But it kind of reiterated what I was saying about celebrating life!

Peaceful sleeps folks (R.I.P.)
-Xesetarip

Hello I'm a Mac and I'm a PC

In today's world computers are basically everywhere. You probably can't want 10 feet with out seeing something like a computer, unless you're in bum-fuck-no-where-Africa, and computers are just going to get even bigger while they keep getting smaller... if you know what I mean. The one main thing about computers is that there are two different people. You're either a PC or a Fag... I mean mac. Today I'm going to not just take the side of the PC as I normally would and I'll explain why the PC is better.

We'll start off with a brief history of the Apple company. In 1976 Steve Jobs and Steven Wozniak created Apple together. They started with the Apple 1 which was essentially amazing to those days but is nothing in today's world. in 1984 Apple released the first Mac. Slowly after that Apple had fallen into a slump and sales dropped. It wasn't until Apple released the iMac in 1998 that they started to become profitable again. Then after that the iPod and basically everything you should know after that.

Well all that was going on Apple had been in the shadow of the big corporate Microsoft. In 1975 Bill Gates came forth to the creators of the Altair 8800 and demonstrated his programming language then called BASIC. After this they then released the Altair BASIC. In 1978 was when Microsoft was officially founded. IT wasn't until 1985 that Microsoft released the first version of windows. Since then the company has grown into what they are today.

I'll start with the Mac and explain their pros and cons. The hardware and software of a Mac work really well together almost as if they're genetically born in the same womb. The OS is also very easy to work and organized and *coughs* boring. Another huge pro is that they don't get virus' or spy-ware. As for the negatives its a huge list. They cost BALLS more if you were to buy the same system as a PC....Da fuck is up with that? The main reason I hate macs is you can't customize them. You can't build them or upgrade them really. What if parts of the computer fail? stop working? Fuck you're not fixing it your self, you're shelling out 100s of dollars to get it repaired. Games man, games is all I'm going to say about that. I will end with that it may not be hard to find software for the Mac, not everything runs on a mac which is a lot of stuff. Though you can hook up windows on to a mac using special software 'I honestly couldn't survive without windows on my Macbook pro' -Cameron Wright. Why buy a 4 grand Mac to run Windows on it when you could spend 1500 and buy the same exact PC.

The other side of the story though is the PC. We'll start of with the major pro is Customizable! You can build them, upgrade them, fix them you name it and you could probably do that with the hardware. That and the hardware is generally better and cheaper. Basically the library of software ever created is at your finger tips and this goes with video games also. Windows 7 is a well built, easy to use OS. As for the negatives if you're a retard and don't know what you're doing it's easy to get a virus. This goes with screwing up your OS... and I mean complete retard for that one i.e. someone saying deleting System 32 saves your computer from virus' and you go and do it. The OS can be kinda sketchy sometimes if you don't know what you're doing. The free software the comes with the computer is usually pretty shitty.

Thus we come to a conclusion that neither are technically better. Well it's basically about preference but we all know that the PC would beat the fucking shit out of the Mac in a boxing match. I'll just end if with go PC or go to hell :D


- Izanrelur

Ps. What the fuck is up with the right click? why is it default you have to hold a button on the keyboard. Why does it make me go through settings to make it have a right click. It's retarded! Default the fucking right click! Fuck.