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.

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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:

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Or this:

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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.

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How to increase traffic to your blog

I’ve been blogging for four or five years now, and about all manners of things. This handy dandy WordPress site allows me to see which of my posts get the most views, when, and from what parts of the world. Using this info, I’ve been able to determine what topics people like to read about, and I’m now going to share the secret to my blog’s wild success with you:

Write about stupid, inane bullshit.

Yup. That’s what the people want. My most viewed posts are movie reviews and bitching about metal bands that suck. You can pour your guts out and bare your soul to the world, talk about real issues like government corruption and our rapidly declining environment, or write terrible poetry or whatever, but people don’t give a shit about that stuff so your viewership will be pathetic. Write about the latest piece of shit superhero movie though, and people will eat it up.

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I haven’t seen it and yet I somehow know that it’s a complete fucking turd. But my views for today will be through the roof!

What a sad statement on humanity. I often wonder how many people actually read the news or care about important current events, and how most people can’t be bothered with that stuff and would actually rather distract themselves from those things with mindless fluff, like entertainment news. The majority of us are making the choice to be human cattle, and McDonald’s and superhero movies are our fodder — it’s incredible. It’s no wonder that such a small percentage of the human race controls how the rest of the world works. We’re basically begging to be exploited by anyone smarter or more powerful than us.

So if what matters to you is attracting more dumbass cattle to your blog, just write about dumbass stuff that will help them ignore the fact that the human race is circling the drain as we speak. Ta da, now you’re popular. Congratulations.

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Note how viewership for my blog is steadily plummeting as this rambling, miserable post goes on.

this blog is my sculpture in an empty desert

I’m taking a break from dusting. That’s a lie, I’m actually just looking for other things to do besides dusting, because I hate it so much. Even though our place gets dusty as all hell due to our wood stove and dry, sandy yard, I can only muster the motivation to dust the house once a year. I’ll let our ceiling fan turn black before I finally wipe the son of a bitch off. That’s how much I hate dusting. And did you know there are no good vids on youtube on how to dust quickly? It’s true. You think some clever bastard would have devised an ingenious method for dusting your whole house in 10 minutes flat, but no such luck.

And that’s why, once a year, I have to spend a few hours doing this fucking job, and then break it into smaller chunks with some blogging in the middle of it to distract myself from the slow death water torture of dusting.

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“Wow, this job fucking sucks.”

Speaking of my blog, I wrote a post the other day that slayed me. I laughed a lot as I was writing it. That always feels good, to create something that I like so much. It also gets me excited for what my six friends who read this will think of the post I enjoyed writing so thoroughly.

But since I wrote the post, how much traffic has my blog seen?

One. One view, and it was probably a bot (based on the country the view is from, the viewer’s name, and lack of info).

On one hand, that’s a little disappointing. But on the other hand, it’s perfect, because I have an obsession with people creating stuff that no one (or very few people) will ever even witness. I even blogged about it here, and that’s what my blog essentially is: this is my solitary fire flower in an abandoned world, my TV and video games in the lonely desert night. It’s just sitting here, doing its thing despite virtually no one being around to see it. The only difference is my blog exists in the cold, vast theoretical emptiness of the internet instead of the dark of night in a desolate landscape.

That’s awesome. Just like the fire flower and TV and video games, it’s sad, lonely, tragic — if you just stumbled across it, you might wonder who made this thing, and who did they make it for? Why is it here? Does the creator know virtually no one cares about it, and do they care about that? What’s the point of this thing just sitting here in the middle of nowhere?

But the thing is, the answers to those questions don’t matter. What matters to me is that I create stuff I like and toss it out into the empty art gallery of the void, where it can inspire such questions on the few unfortunate souls who happen across it from time to time.

So, mission accomplished.

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These giant monoliths in the desert are an apt comparison to my blog. Perfect.

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 came across this awesome site. i love it.