PJ

Yes, my Pearl Jam tickets arrived.

Yes, the concert was freakin sweet.

Yes, that makes me cooler than you all.

Drive thru

There's no doubting that North Americans love their drive thru- it has even become one of the symbols of American culture. And it's not surprising. After all, if you'd just wedged an ass the size of a small independent principality into the driver's seat of your SUV, you wouldn't want to get out unless absolutely necessary, either.

But you would be surprised at the range of goods and services available at drive thru service here. Sure, we all know about hamburgers, and even the oh-so classy drive thru wedding chapel, but did you know you can also get coffee, banking services and even corn on the cob? That's right, take a drive through farm land and you will see drive thru booths offering corn on the cob.

I look forward to the opening of America's first drive thru gym.

Question of the day

Is it wrong to listen to Tool while working in a crematorium? Or should I instead be composing a journal of my thoughts on the frailty of human existence?

Let's try again

Due to my getting kicked out of my last place with one week's notice (and no, I didn't do anything wrong), I've had to find new lodgings. You can find me at:

502-811 Helmcken St
Vancouver BC
V6Z 1B1

Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam live in concert tomorrow night! I supposedly have tickets, but I'm beginning to suspect that someone is trying to swindle me out my hard un-earned cash. Luckily I haven't paid him yet.

I'm sure I can magic up some tickets from somewhere, regardless, so I'm breaking out my flannel shirt and chuck taylors.

Joe's crematorium

I's gots me a job... working in a crematorium. Talk about jobs that you never imagine that you'll end up doing. I got a tour of the facilities this morning, and it's a lot more mundane than you might expect. By the time a body reaches the crematorium it's been nicely, err, 'packaged', and there is rarely any cause for me to even see a corpse. I must say I am glad not to be working in the embalming room however. Ugh.

It's a pretty sweet gig really- it pays well, there is no obligation on me to stay, and if I get a better offer then I can used the crematorium work for some extra cash.

And you all better be nice to me from now on... I have the means to dispose of you without a trace.

Visual pollution

Why must pasty middle-aged guys go roller-blading around the waterfront with their shirts off? Leave it to the Yaletown bunnies, guys!