The ladybugs have returned in full force. They are everywhere. I’d take action, but this place is more their home than it is mine.
The other night, while walking home from the bar, I saw into the open window of a garden apartment on Grant Street. There was a guy walking around with a key-tar (a keyboard you wear like a guitar.) It was 2am. All I could think was, “That man is making the worst song in the world.”
Last night the show was filled with a singles group for old people. Instead of laughing, they sighed through my entire 50 minute set. To be fair, a considerable part of my act has centered around suicide and death during my tenure here.
I had poutine from Burger King. They have that here. More places should put gravy and cheese on things. It’s pretty good.
Two days off and I’ve been sitting around in my underwear for so long I forgot they’re not the same as regular pants. Almost cried at the end of “Uncle Buck” this morning.
I don’t know if there are any ladybugs around because I’ve only left the couch to use the bathroom and answer the door for the pizza guy last night. I think it was a guy. I was too stoned to make eye contact. Wasn’t too stoned not to realize 25 bucks was a total ripoff for what I got. Had to check and make sure I wasn’t just eating the box. Finished it for breakfast regardless.
The sun is out but it just feels sarcastic. “Now you can see how desolate it is.”
Thought about taking a shower but just watched another movie instead. Now it’s 2:30pm. I’ve had this shirt on since Saturday. To be fair, it is my favorite shirt.
Can’t remember if I bought those bananas or if they were just here from before.
Four days left. Or five. I don’t even know anymore.
I haven’t seen any ladybugs in a bit. Understandably, they’ve probably left to seek out a more pleasant environment. I’m hardly a good housemate. The things I’ve done to my body out of sheer boredom would cause most people to call a psychologist or possibly a priest. It’s too much for one to witness, regardless of species.
Despite its brief appearance yesterday, the sun has been waved off yet again. Another polite “no, thank you” to the heavens from Winnipeg.
I bought a pretty decent-sized onion yesterday and I’m almost done with it already.
There’s a overturned broken chair on the balcony. I haven’t been out there yet but I’ve gotten up to look at it from the window like six or seven times.
I mentioned the shower curtain last time, the one with the dogs on it. One of the dogs is wearing glasses. Just doesn’t make any sense. Might be some sort of DaVinci Code, but I can’t be sure because I never read that book.
Despite what I say about my surroundings, the people I’ve met here are truly a nice and sincere bunch. They even took me out for Canadian bowling last night. It’s different from American bowling because there’s only five pins and the ball is smaller with no holes. It’s the same as American bowling because I was drunk and I suck at it.
Day 2 in Winnipeg finds me thoroughly engrossed in a cable film about two boys, one white, one black, forging a friendship over the course of a road trip in a stolen car. The soundtrack seems to feature songs rejected from “Beverly Hills Cops” and I think I saw Billy Dee Williams for a brief moment as a group home counselor. The condo I’m staying in has a ladybug issue and this morning I got a cramp in my leg while masturbating.
Last night, after a show that consisted mostly of dealing with two coked-up assholes in the front row, I drank at an establishment named The Pony Corral. Due to the neon hat on the sign and the amount of beverages consumed in said establishment, I renamed it Top Hat Larry’s and will refer to it exclusively as such. Kool and the Gang’s “Celebration” has never played in a more ironic setting. They have video poker that the old people seemed to like, although I don’t think old people should stay out that late, especially if they’re gambling.
I think only old people live in this condominium I’m staying in. It’s called Kent Towers. The building next door is called Tiffany Towers. That’s funny because it’s the same name as the porno lady with the big boobs.
I should mention that the kids in this movie I’m watching have been driving around of their own accord with only mild scurmish—oh, wait, the black kid just found his dad. I think that was the point so this is probably the end. Yeah, the end song is playing. I like how saxophone can be either sexy or sad. “Big Shots”! I’ve been watching fucking “Big Shots” this whole goddamn time. Motherfucker.
There’s a plastic bag tacked to the cork board in the lobby of Kent Towers. Someone is collecting the pop tops in an effort to raise money for wheelchairs. There are seven pop tops in the bag and it seems to have been hanging there for quite some time.
Today I left only to buy a can opener. The shower curtain has dogs on it.
There’s a new movie starting. It has a young Sissy Spacek in it. She looks like a pretty burn victim.
It was just announced that Dane Cook will be appearing at the Ralph Engelstad Arena, one week after Kyle Kinanes show at the Empire Arts Theater. The Empire arts theater is a 415 seat theater, they are all good seats. The “Good” Seats at the Engelstad Start at $72. Our tickets are $18. If you come…