I’m never leaving home again

I just got back from a trip to Victoria. It sucked. It was a rainy day that wasn’t good for doing much outside at home so I thought I’d make the best of it and head to Victoria to take care of five errands I had gradually accumulated.

Alas, memory is short, and I had forgotten just how godawful and downright tedious driving in Victoria is. It’s fucking gridlock from Mackenzie all the way to Dallas Road. Plus, I neglected to consider that we are only a week away from Christmas, and every other jerk like me was out there, madly dashing about trying to find gifts before zero hour arrives (only one of my errands was picking up a gift but that still makes me one of the hoard).

I could have been ok with the traffic if my errands had gone smoothly, but they didn’t. One by one, they each went progressively worse than the last. On the first one, I accidentally drove past my destination and wound up driving several extra kilometers on a bunch of stupid one-way streets, doing numerous U-turns before I finally got it right. Not terrible, but annoying, for sure.

On the second errand, I had to park three blocks away from the Dutch Bakery and hoof it there through torrential rains and hurricane winds. I forgot both my reusable shopping bag and to put money in the parking meter so I turned back, prolonging my time in this soggy hell. As I walked hurriedly, the top of my umbrella bashed the low-hanging awning of a shop and it in turn bashed my glasses into my face. I played it cool because I was in public but I was secretly murderous. Then the debit machine at the bakery had a tipping option and I gave a 15% tip solely because the girl who served me was attractive, and I hated myself for doing it. I wish all servers were hideous old people so that I never felt this yearning to appease attractive people. It’s fucking absurd but it’s a tough bastard to shake. I think that’s a blog post in itself.

Then I went to The Turntable in Fantan Alley. I was looking for a particular disco compilation record called Don’t Walk, Boogie.


This is an unreal disco compilation, and the genesis for my love of disco music.

They didn’t have it. This errand really wasn’t so bad because the owner of the shop was quite determined to eventually find it for me in his never-ending record hunting, and I happily hung out and chatted music with him and a few other guys there for a bit. I love that shop, and Fantan Alley in general. Such great vibes there. But keeping in the theme of this post, I did not find what I was looking for so this mission was a complete failure.

Next, I went to Chinatown to find kitchen chair cushions made of straw-like material, like this:


Or this:


I went to numerous shops but none had anything close to what I was looking for. A kind woman overheard me and suggested I try Capital Iron. I did, and they didn’t have shit either. I was really hoping to avoid buying these things online, waiting months for them to actually show up, and then only to find they don’t fit on our chairs or are only 1/4″ thick and hard as rocks, but I guess that’s the route I must now go.

Then I went to buy a vintage home stereo amp from a guy. His ad said “works well, clean condition,” but when I showed up he casually mentioned that the lights on it didn’t work, and would be a real nightmare to replace (he did some work on the stereo but didn’t bother with the lights because they were too much of a pain to access even when he had it all apart). Well, shit. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that I wanted the fucking lights to work but when I told him I was going to pass on it, he gave me that bitchy, passive aggressive, “no, no, sure, yeah, no problem, yup, nope” response, ie thanks for wasting my precious time here, now I’ve missed 10 minutes of Duck Dynasty for nothing. He’s not the one who drove all the way to fucking Victoria to fight traffic and get fucked around and disappointed by every jackoff he dealt with so I don’t know why he was so upset.

Then I fought traffic through the pouring rain all the way home. That was my trip to Victoria today.


every fucking jackoff goes camping on the weekend

this is what everyone imagines camping is going to be like: serene, beautiful, peaceful, romantic.

but this is the reality of most camping: a bunch of tubby, drunk, white trash weekend warriors jammed like sardines into a dust bowl or mud pit, stumbling about with their screaming progeny in hot pursuit.

that’s fucking bullshit. jenn and i go camping to get away from the hordes of scum we already have to see every day. we don’t want to migrate with them to the popular local campgrounds on long weekends so that we can fight gridlock traffic there and back. we don’t want to jockey with them for a spot in a jam-packed campground. we don’t want to be woken up when their kids start tearing around the fucking campsite on their bicycles at 630 am. we don’t want to put up with their drunken “wooohooooo yeah baby hahahahahahahah” commentary that begins around noon and continues till 8 pm when they finally pass out. that stuff is all the shits. when we go camping, we want to explore beautiful, quiet, unspoiled places. we want to spend quality time together. we want to actually ‘get away from it all,’ not just call it that even though it’s actually a fucking rat race, a mobile home park or suburban neighborhood transplanted to a sparsely-treed lot next to a river of mud.

so we try to go camping mid-week, off the beaten path, or even do dispersed camping (aka camping wherever you find a nice spot). we’ve happened across all kinds of awesome shit camping like this. we’ve found old crashed planes on mountains, giant caves, groves of old growth trees, waterfalls we could walk out on (very dangerous but really cool), mountain trails with incredible views, abundant wild fruit, wild animals we’ve never seen before (i saw a big porcupine near mt st helens a few years ago, which was awesome), ghost towns, lava tubes, tiny lakes teeming with fish, herds of wild horses, natural hot springs, yada yada yada. and we rarely have to deal with any dickheads, let alone many other people.

a beautiful free spot we found in south eastern oregon.

a beautiful, quiet, free spot we found in south eastern oregon.

there’s awesome shit all over the place that is free of annoying plebes, even close to home. you just have to be open to exploring and/or have a massive hate-on for the rest of the human race.

traveling to vancouver is a fucking pain in the ass

my in-laws are booking their ferry rides to vancouver and i’m reminded of why i hate going to vancouver so much. it’s expensive as all hell and takes for fucking EVER.

the cost of two people taking a car on the ferry is $90 each way. so $180, plus gas, is roughly $200 each trip. for a cheap prick like myself, that’s a lot of money.

bc ferries are fucking crooks who are trying to pass off their job of being an extension of the highway as a tourist attraction. that’s horseshit. they can keep their shitty buffets, massage chairs, and fake wood floors and give me a reasonable fare instead.

and from our place, it’s at least an hour drive to either the nanaimo or victoria ferry terminal. then we have to get there about an hour early to make sure we make it on the ferry. then it’s an hour and a half ride plus another half hour of waiting to drive off the ferry. then it’s about an hour drive into vancouver. that’s a grand total of 5 hrs to get from my house to downtown vancouver, and over half of that is sitting around waiting for the fucking ferry. i could drive to port mcneill at the north end of the island in that time, or someone in vancouver could drive to vernon. and guess what, it would be a hell of a lot cheaper to drive to either of those places rather than take the ferry over to vancouver.

i don’t even like vancouver in the first place. it’s a fucking shithole cosmopolitan city like every other shithole cosmo city in the world, suffering from an abundance of concrete, rudeness, annoying “go get ’em” business types, hipster vegans, people in general, pollution, non-stop gridlock traffic, and claustrophobia (among other things i’m forgetting right now, i’m sure). couple that with the difficulty and cost to get there and it’s no wonder i rarely make the epic slog of a journey.

fuck traveling anywhere. gotta stay in shawnigan.

while searching "hate vancouver" i came across this awesome site. i love it.

while searching “hate vancouver,” i found i was not alone.