New Romance

Where to go from here? I figured things were leveling out – I was wrong. It’s becoming clear to me that chaos isn’t scripted and insomnia will make you crazy. But for you, it won’t be long before I’m gone and slipping between the cracks of your mind. I recognize that the truth wasn’t hidden and Jack was right all along. And believe me, it’s easy to twist your mind and heart when you think that you’re falling in love. And even though you were, there’s no stopping it. So I’ll kill for a girl next time and know for sure what true love is. 

Don't mean nothin'

Delirium and exhaustion feel normal. Breaking down from insomnia is to be expected in times like these. But I aint that bothered cause we all gotta go and I know I’m on my way. By and by, the easiest way to loose your mind is by using it. Your heart aint healed for a pain you never felt. Doubt is now a possibility at the bottom of an ocean on a rainy day.   

Fades in

It's better to be lost on the road than it is to be lost at home. If you're lost at home, you might be askin' yourself questions like: "where am I?" and home aint no place to be askin' those kinda questions. Feelin' the sound of acoustic like the boy in me on a magic carpet, never changin' up in the sky, like purple lights on an acid sunset. Am I dreamin' or who's dreamin'? Chasin' blind love with tired eyes - sleep on a beach and wake up young. Who told you true love can't hide forever? 

For Someone

There's nothing I can say. Love aint the trap I thought it was. Spit it out if you got some soul or kiss me on the cheek and close the window. My mind's cracking up on your broken piece of shit radio, laughing from across the river. If you're caught between the truth and the echo of your own fucked up desires, it's the cause of laws for you to make a foolish decision. You'll soon find that you're older than you think, and what better way to learn.

'Big Race' Update

Due to post-Olympic bullshit, yesterday’s race between Alex “Super Space Cheetah” Robertson and John “Steam Engine” Currie has been postponed until crews finish dismantling the Richmond Ozone at Minoru. 

As it stands, Friday, March.12 is race day.

Similarly, as it draws near, both competitors are undoubtedly feeling the pressure mount—quite possibly, one more than the other.

Its been rumored that Super Space Cheetah has been listening to nothing but “Jesus Walks,” by Kanye West for the last five days.

“I’m going to crush John’s dreams like I crush pussy,” said Super Space Cheetah when asked about his strategy.

At this point, however, Steam Engine is vehemently refusing to acknowledge any of the attention whatsoever the ‘big race’ is receiving on Facebook and around the world. 

When asked why he’s so stubborn, Steam Engine replied, “I’m not stubborn, I just want to get this race over with.”

Sources indicate, however, that Steam Engine has been training vigorously for the upcoming dash, as it is going to be, without question, the most defining moment of his entire life.  

The Big Race

What happens when two former elementary school track stars grow up and start playing macho head games with each other?

That’s right. They settle it the only way any conflict should ever be settled: in a 100m freestyle foot race.

The challenger, Alex “Super Space Cheetah” Robertson, 23, shocked the world at a track meet over 15 years ago with his lightening fast starts and disregard for appropriate footwear. He hasn’t run since.

“I’ve crunched the numbers and mathematically there’s no way I can lose,” said Super Space Cheetah.

John “Steam Engine” Currie, crashed into the podium with four 1^st Place ribbons at a Swangard track meet at the age of 11. He’s now 23.

“John’s the fastest slow kid I’ve ever seen,” said Jamaican sprinter and Olympic gold medalist Usain Bolt.

The race is scheduled for Friday afternoon, March 5: Minoru Track in Richmond.

There can only be one winner.

The Olympic Dream?

Red spray paint, broken glass, long lineups and one dead. 

There’s no question, as the city erupted into a magnificent state of chaos and high-fives, the Olympic experience manifested from day one with the ferocity of a thousand hippos. 

The past two weeks in Vancouver have been a wild demonstration of unbridled patriotism and drunken delight—oh yeah, and of superior athletic performance.

For the first time ever, I have witnessed people from across Canada truly unite under the influence of two colours and one flag.

For those two Olympic weeks, nothing else seemed to matter.  As long as you were drinking beer and cheering for Canada, you belonged.  

By day three, I’d lost my credit card, partied with a millionaire, wore a beer tray on my head at the Heineken house courtesy of a Dutch bartender, slept on a bathroom floor, missed a day of work, witnessed an Olympic protest and pondered the merits of fascism. 

Strangely enough, I wasn’t sure how it all fit together. 

What was the Olympic dream?

In the second week, when America defeated Canada in game two of men’s hockey, a fleeting wave of panic rolled over the red and white homeland, like a realization that its national identity could indeed be mortal.

But it was a divine fallacy solved by fate and Sydney Crosby in the gold medal game between the two rivaling teams.

The universe can be enigmatic sometimes, but it never lies. 

The gold medal in men’s 2010 Olympic hockey is, indeed, the answer and solution to any existential question or identity crisis any Canadian with a hangover may have – at least for the next four years.