A contemplative - The art of Freedom

A man by the name of Will Durant said a civilization isn't a civilization unless creativity and the arts are not only tolerated but encouraged.  The people need to be relaxed, free to think about things. School, in my opinion, inhibits this behaviour. Especially when its the useless parts of school. Things that aren't educational. I can finally start to think in this way again. I was writing a lot around the time I started writing for Jerk Out Month, in other projects, but my school marks suffered. So, as you can see, I've won back more time to write a third entry in a week's time. 

I have time to think about lots of things! Even the difference between different alcohols. For example, I wrote this when I was fairly drunk:

Rum. That cursed device. The drunk times you and your friends have had are no match for rum. Rum will destroy you. I can look back at all the times I've drank rum. Oh those times. A different drunk. A dank drunk, a quiet drunk. But still drunk. Its not like whiskey. A light taste, a similar drunk, but not the same. Whiskey does one of two things to you, brings out your happy drunk emotions, or your violent drunk emotions. I'm a fairly happy drunk. But the rum. The rum puts me in a slumber. I lose motor skills alongside my stoned state. Its a tired drunk. Like being a little bit stoned. Slow, sloth-like. This is the rum drunk from my perspective. Hunter S. Thompson seemed to like rum. A quart of rum was always included in his drug collection. I don't see the correlation of rum drunk to his personality, with the exception of his mumbling. However his overall personality type seemed to differ from his rum drunk. This I may never know the source. I'm going to save this, as I'm writing this rum drunk. Perhaps I will add to this or learn something about my drunk self later on. Good night.

I have come to the conclusion that my favourite distilled alcohol is whiskey. I enjoy gin after that. I'm a bit of a wino. White wine first. Red. Brandy is always good, as is Cognac. Sake is okay, but I put Rum above that. But a rum and coke is always good.

Wow! I made a list. I'd never have time doing that if I had to write a two page essay explaining what a primary resource is.

In any case, I have one more exam tomorrow, and I can inhale pot into my lungs or snort some k or whatever I wanna do. I have no cares. I could write here every hour on the hour if I wanted. I can think up a hundred ways to climb up to my roof, or sleep overnight in the park. Whatever. The. Fuck. I. Want. 

Its a delicate art, the art of Freedom - and I just need to learn to master it.

Mind Hive

I was in the fucking heart of a bureaucratic nightmare. Forms and taxes were being thrown in the air like paper airplanes. "These people are savages!" I think to myself - contradicting the orderly atmosphere of the neat desks and protocols, and all the waiting...the waiting. "What did I do last year?" I couldn't remember. The terrible memories of attempting to navigate the endless halls and offices on mescaline. I had a good hour or so to go. But I was wrong, terribly wrong. Mescaline wasn't as good as in the days of Hunter Thompson. So I barely got my money into the hands of the greedy little accountants at the cashier before I started noticing the intense contrast of the Blue lettering against the snow white wall. I could see 5, maybe 6 shades of these fucking colours! 

"Sir....Sir.......Mr. Brown!"

"What?" I asked sincerely. "Oh yes, here's 35.09" I handed my hard earned cash over. In return I received a blue piece of paper. My busking license. And here I was, one year later in the same place. I forgot the rest of my experience from that long ago day. The people seemed a lot more rude this year. They pronounced my name wrong on the loud-speaker. 

"Cooper Bro-In to number six" Echoed the loud speaker. Then I waited for no one. She came. A fat, stout Italian-looking women. In her 30's.

"I need a road allowance permit for busking" I said. She began inquiring after a few pieces of information.

"Oh, by the way I had one last year...if that helps?" I mention, smiling

"OH! Well then just pay at the cashier" She responds in a bitingly annoyed voice, as if unnecessarily entering two pieces of information had cost her her Friday night.

"You know it doesn't cost you money to smile right?" She flashed me a cold stare.

"Boogely boogely boogely!" I exclaim.

 I walked away. After paying my dues to an equally rude cashier, I headed outside, lit up a cigarette and waited for my bus. I looked over toward the Hospital across the street. I had gone in there earlier to use their ATM. Hospitals always depressed me. The sick and dying, however this one seemed rather tame. I waltzed in there in my white dress shirt, aviators and youthful health. I obviously attracted due attention, but made up when I made conversation with a veteran waiting for the ATM alongside me in his wheel chair. He seemed to appreciate this very much and this lift of spirits got me through the Mind Hive that is any formal government building. (Aside from most Environment Ministries/Department) I  took my long  subway ride home and got halfway through "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly". What an amazing piece of literature. If only I spoke fluent french to read the original translation. I wish to learn french and spanish later on in life. I wish I could take it in School, but there is a fucked up school system to blame for that. That I will get into another day. But Today, I went to the centre of hell, and made it back with another 35 dollar piece of paper. God help me.

p.s. For those interested in further reading into why the north american school system fails - I recommend  This article in "An Amazing Mind".

A triumphant return - C. Brown in A Destructive Lumber Yard

The mere sight of a Lumber Yard with the sky seemingly snowing the seeds of dandelions in balmy, sticky sweat. It was the hottest few days in Toronto I had felt in long time - if ever. To breath was a chore. My adventure begins with Contractors. The  filth of the earth - the most greediest bunch of cocksuckers to walk the planet.

"I want 1000 more dollars for the extra electrical!" Says the British Guyanese Contractor

"The contract says ALL Electrical!" I reply

What has this world come to? When all is gone, money, wealth the feeling of more is always there with us. We always want more! MORE MORE MORE! 

While these bootshits started their job, I end up in the North of the Province. A delightful guys weekend, a drunken smoke filled room. Happiness at last. If it wasn't for a stronghold of civilization I would have never got those cigars. Into the depths of a pothead filled corner store. A smoke shop by trade. I stood behind a very crusty, weathered man yelling at the asian employee.  After he finished his blathering, I asked to see the Cigars - when I realize the smokes are hidden. I think back to a corner store experience the day before, a mission to get cold soda - they had their smokes hidden too. What in gods name? She leads me over.

"Tomorrow you can't see them." She says in her Oriental accent.

"Why?" I inquire

"Government! They tell to put tobacco away! You use catalogue." She states.

"Jesus." I mutter.

Monte Cristos and Romeo and Juliets. I didn't want to spend a fortune. Then I got Jack Daniel's and Red Stripe beer. After a drive, it was freedom. How could I have missed this delight before? I haven't lived here very long. That is the answer. 

It wasn't until work set me astray from school, that I felt the cold grasp of depression on my testicles again. It was a work of art - me avoiding it. But I can handle it better now. I got relief with another Friday and then - a peaceful meditation with my two platonic girlfriends. What a night. Sober nonetheless. How ever, I chose to pick up some Grass. There was a party going on in the Ravine that evening, after a particular concert. I worked toward the place. A place filled with drunken, stoned memories. I left behind my girlfriends for a time. I went by myself, my cash in hand, I walked through the uncut grass, past a group of kids drinking something along the lines of Heineken.  As I was about to go down, I found a Black Motorolla Razer, I would not want to be the owner of this! I picked it up and descended down into the pit. Down, down, until I was spotted and greeted. 

"Greetings." I exclaimed. 

I went up to fat, surly fellow who thinks he looks good who I knew was dealing.

"May I buy some Marijuana?" I investigated in an English Accent.

His pale complexion looked contrasting to his red cheeks and his heavily dilated pupils. He nods. I end up talking to these older fellows who show me a picture of a bon fire. I got the grass, and after showing the phone and find its owner, I joined my girls for a fine night.

The next day was an odd waiting game. A concert of the fine Indie bands Stars and Death Cab for Cutie. I won't give too much detail, but I was connected with a particular member of Young Galaxy who was opening. After this, my anxiety to smoke overcame and my Jewish friend and I came home and smoked half the grass. I was overcome with joy and ate and fell asleep. It wasn't till the morning, in my groggy voice I found myself in a world of insanity, my friend went on a date while I met this other young girl for a project and met with a teacher - all the while the piece of shit contractors antagonized my life.

And finally I found myself in the Lumber Yard of a Rona. The hot sweat on my back and forehead, the bright sun casting dangerous rays down. I was wearing a dress shirt - and Aviators. It appeared to be snowing. And the world seemed unreal for that day, and then it thunder stormed, casting aside the steaming hot life for another time and place.

We will meet again you dirty bastard.

Enjoying yourself.

I haven't posted anything in for fucking ever. I doubt anyone reads these anymore. Jerk Out Month is practically dead. LA is the only living blog. Jay and Dave haven't posted anything ...ever.

Anyway. What have I been doing? School mostly, I want to get into University, so Marks are everything. Its a little stressing, but its for a good cause. 

Now, I would enjoy telling you about my Friday night. On Friday, I had two events to go to. One was a cast party for my Drama shows, the other was a Bonfire hosted by other friends.  I was with two good friends who I'll call E and L. L is 19, therefore able to purchase alcohol and such legally. We started the night by sharing a Rockstar energy drink mixed with Vodka. Super! We then moved on to the cast party which was up the road. L had bought Gin for himself and bought some Camel Smokes for me. We hung out there for about two hours. The people were mostly doing poppers (A Bill bong with a mix of tobacco and pot) fyi, so were fairly deadbeat. We left to go to the bonfire. L ran into two sets of friends until we got back to my place, which we decided to go to to empty our bladders and for E and I to drink some whiskey. We moved on, went to the park and half way there, calling our friends at the "bonfire", we were told they were broken up by the cops! WHAT! WHAT THE FUCK! So in the middle of nowhere, in the dark, we turned around, and went back the way we came. We moved on back to the Cast Party, where I drank, L drank and E smoked some pot, for about a half hour. At that point we found out that the TTC, the subway, bus and trolley workers here in Toronto were gonna go on strike! Everyone left! L was the only one who needed to get home, so we ran. But at 11:30, the 12:01 strike was already in effect. So, my dad gave L a ride home.  E and I had a nightcap of Jack Daniels and passed out. E referred to it as a very, very sad Superbad.

Ying-Yang

So I haven't updated in twenty-three days. I'm sorry. Hopefully people still read. I'm not really inspired cause no one ever comments - *AHEM*.

So I've been noticing some very distinct different differences as the days go by with a Ying Yang attitude. There are Yings and Yangs of personalities. For example, I've been to a fair number of auditions for Film, Television and commercials in my day. I've noticed, especially in Toronto, the type of people that go to those are your average pretty boy. Sometimes a douchebag, other times nice but they will be wearing Hollister or something. Like this guy:Anyway, I don't get to too many Theatre auditions, but I recently went to one. The people there, in the waiting room were friendly! They were kinda hippyish! They were cool dudes! Imagine that! So this is sad. When I'm a director, I'm gonna try to hire actors with a mostly theatre background. Not these superficial fucks who show up to be the next Zac Efron.

Anyway, in my previous post, I talked about the asshole Bus Driver I had to deal with. They're everywhere, I was on a streetcar and the guy pissed on me for asking for a transfer after I had already got on. I say "Thank You" to almost every driver, and there are loads of nice ones. Imagine how much better your day is when you have a guy who doesn't give you a hassle or says thank you back! In fact, the Toronto Transit Commission may go on strike next week. Why? "Post traumatic syndrome". Bull fucking shit. They say they're being harassed and spit on and beaten. Here's my theory:
My guess is that the majority of them are causing it. If you're difficult to someone, they're more likely to call you an asshole, like I did - peaceful me! Also, they get paid 27 bucks an hour on average! HOLY FUCKNUTS! Work a five hour day, 5 days a week, with two months vacation, thats 200 000 dollars. Thats more than my NICE mom and dad make. So shut the fuck up, If you go on strike, you are a group of even bigger assholes than you ever were.

So in short, the world is a delicate Ying Yang. There are good forces, and bad ones, assholes and saints. You have to know how to deal with them. There are bad movies and Fucking excellent ones and everything in between. Fuck is this sounding cliche...

I need to stop bitching, I feel thats all I do. So let me review something that actually is good. My birthday is coming up a week from this Friday. WOOOOO!!! 17 years fucking old! BOOYA.

Thats all folks,


Cooper Ying Brown Yang

I'll just assume 51% assholes.

Firstly, I'd like to give a shout out to Jay over at Jerk Out Month of our fourth candidate in slow agony. Enjoy.

Anyway. The Root of this entry is from a story starting two fine days ago. On a delicious morning I woke up to get on the bus. In Toronto, Students get 1 Dollar off their fare. In exchange for this, the official rule is you're supposed to have your student ID card. I've been asked for it once in the last thee years. And I was downtown, late at night and had it in my wallet. The employees don't care enough to ask, ESPECIALLY when you have a backpack on and are going to a school. So I don't carry my card. So that morning I got on the bus and the guy carded me.

"Can I see your Student Card?" says the driver.

"I don't have it with me" I say

"You need to always have it" He responds

"But I'm clearly a student." I say

"Pay another Dollar" He says as I pull out a pocket full of change.

"You have no consistency...if you all asked for it, I'd carry it with me" I say and place the extra dollar in. As I left I didn't say thank you. I ALWAYS say thank you to the bus driver.

After school, I was walking to my neighbourhood convenience store to buy some Doritos and Chocolate Milk. I live near my school and also near many other schools. I also happen to live near the subway where these school's kids go to everyday. The convenience store is even closer to it than my house. I usually do this trek and notice the rather gangster look to many of the "fine" young gents and the preppy young women. However this fine day I happened to notice a large number.

The cherry on top of this sundae is inside the convenience store (which is quite large by the way, with a subway attached), after school there is usually about twenty of these gangpreps in there. Just loitering. No reason. No one has any money. A few do. And they hang around the chips and candy and stuff. There will also be an employee standing in the middle of it all making sure they don't shoplift. As I walk in, they are quite rowdy and manage to knock over a display case full of beef jerky. The employee sadly began picking it up as I got my milk and chips. As I was about to pay for my snack, I saw the counter employee get wild eyed and ran up to one and told him to get out. He had a big jacket on and such but kept saying he didn't steal. Weird. I bought my stuff, and walked out amongst a few guys calling each other "fucking fuckers". The intelligence was astounding.

When I came home, I was Facebook surfing when I found a picture of my friend with a orange girl. I was saddened by this. This is a picture of the girl, I took out my friend.
Anyway, the next day, I got on the bus...and guess who's there! The same fucking bus driver. And he remembered me.
"Student Card" he says
"Really, I don't have enough money to come back home" I say
"Then I'll have to let you off the bus" He says and picks up a phone attached to the bus.
"I've got a problem with a student, he's refusing to pay a fare, do you see him on the camera? Okay." He says and hangs up.
"This is ridiculous" I mention and plop 50 cents in.
"Sir, I'm gonna drop you off at the next stop if you don't pay the fare" He yells. I put another 25 cents in.
"Thats all I have" I say.
"I'm letting you out." He says as I turn back to ask my friend on the bus for 20 cents. She gives me a quarter. I put it in the box.
"There you go asshole" I say. At that, he slams on the brakes.
"GET OUT!" He yells. At this point everyone is bitching at him telling him I payed my fare. I gave in and walked out the bus.

The next bus came in 2 minutes. I got on with a student fare....

Cooper Brown

It just smells nice.

I am currently in Vancouver. This is likely one of my favourite cities in the world. For those that haven't been, GO. Toronto is not my favourite...its so...dirty. Halifax is my real home, but it doesn't have a whole hell of a lot of stuff. Vancouver...It just smells nice. Its always like 10 degrees warmer than the rest of Canada, it has that smell of moisture and pot in the air. The people are relaxed...sure theres quite a few trendy fuckers who wear Abercrombian Eagleollister. But hey - they're everywhere now! And don't get me started on the BC Bud. Everything about Vancouver and BC is great. I would love to live here. They even film Stargate here! Like, what else could I ask for? Everytime I'm in Vancouver, I hate Toronto a little more. I'm hating it quite much right now. But, In the end...the housing costs in Vancouver are fuckdiculous. Some day. One day.

Until next time,

Cooper Brown

The Night My Dad Smoked Pot With Me

I kinda wanted to tell a story. So here it is.

One fine evening, this past summer - my dad and I went downtown like we usually do on the weekend. We, I believe, were trapped downtown when it started to rain. We went to a restaurant and had some coffee. When the rain let up, we witnessed some sort of parade involving Chinese people. Yes, actual CHINESE people. I do not associate all asians as Chinese. After this, we moved on to the Subway to come home.

At this time we were living at my old house, which had about a 1 km walk to the house. While walking this, we passed a Coffeetime (the Toronto version of any cheep coffee place that is a haven for sketchy characters). My dad squatted down to pick something up that I didn't see. When I inquired, he presented a 1/8 ounce baggy carrying what I judged to be about 1.5 grams of weed. My dad then laughed and continued to say: "What an interesting find". My inner pothead craved that so bad. I then asked what he was going to do with it. After a beat, he said: 

"We should dispose of it. Maybe burn it...really slowly..." he adds a smile to the end of that.

My head jumped all over the place...I knew he use to smoke a lot of pot, but I thought he gave it up...and when ever he talked about it with me, he also had a negative view of it.

So we get home, and I drop my stuff downstairs and come up to find him sitting at the dining room table, staring at the baggy. He was obviously contemplating something when we heard a door slam outside: Mom.

He goes to his room, hiding the baggy. As we spent the next 4, 5 hours with my mom, I actually forgot about the pot. But, at approximately 11 at night, I was on my dear mac, like I am now when my dad comes downstairs. He tells me Mom has gone to bed. And then, quote on quote asks me : "Do you want to take the dog for a walk?". 

We have no dog. I picked up on this right away. Awkward silence accompanied the first little while of our trek to the park. Until dad started talking about how pot is different now and asked how strong the stuff is. I described as best I could about the genetic engineering of Ganja and such until we reached the park. Two fattys were pre-rolled. My father was obviously a little out of practice. However, we smoked it all, and I believe he thought that was a small amount. Little did he know, he, after likely 20 years without weed only really needed two or three tokes. However, we finished and began our trek back.

The trek back was the brilliant cherry on top of the sundae. First, we emerged onto a street named Echo Valley Rd. This is how I knew my dad was truly High - he looks at the street sign and says something along the lines of: "Its Echo song, are you suppose to Echo back?" Laughs and then says: "ECHO!!" Really loud while facing behind us. 

As we were nearing our house, something very odd happened. In my wild ride on multitudes of Mind Altering Substances, I have witnessed many fucked up things. However, on Marijuana, I have never hallucinated. So I hope this was real:

While on a sidewalk Dad and I were walking when all of a sudden, above us, a loud noise of what sounded like animals fighting emerged and we ran, in our paranoid pothead mind sets, we ran in complete fear. Looking back, we saw a very large tree branch covered in leaves, moving back and forth creating the sound of fighting animals. Our hearts pumping, we eventually stopped running and began to speculate what the fuck that was. To this day, I have no Idea.

When we got home, we watched South Park, where I experienced the feeling of falling asleep on the couch, which made me kinda dreamy/half-hallucinate falling into a vortex. I thought it was fuckawesome. After the South park episode, we decided to go to sleep and never, ever talk to mom about it.

I had some pretty wicked dreams that night. I'll likely never ever get to do that again...but it was fucking worth it.

Alcohol

Seasoned readers of mine will no I've been an alcohol abuser in the past.

Tonight I drank. I drank interestingly enough with my parents, and family friends. My dad admits to drinking too much in general, but is not typically "drunk" or ludicrously intoxicated. When he is, he admits to it. I, am the same way in that I admit that I'm drunk, but when drinking alcohol, usually do so with a large goal in mind, this is only because I  am underage. My mother finally is a person who drinks like me, to get drunk, but does not admit to being so and typically lies about how much she has had. Tonight was a nice example. 

We started at the friend's place. Dad's had a beer or two before I got there, mom starts with red wine and I have some white wine. After I am accomplishing my second glass of wine, I begin to feel my buzz, my dad is mellow and normally reserved and I know he is only truly intoxicated when he's really fucking funny or tired. My mom is getting her buzz obviously as she starts talking about herself. 

We move to a restaurant, my mom has accomplished a 1/3 of a bottle of wine, my dad three beers and I about 2 1/2 glasses of wine. At the restaurant we have a round. A pint of Amsterdam beer for me. When 2/3 the way through I am drunk. This is where I feel like I could dance in front of my parents right at that moment retartedly without care. My mom has done god knows how many glasses, and begins doing what I call connecting philosophies/sayings/world issues that don't fit. The Adult equivalent of putting the fucking round block in the square hole.

Anyway, by the end of the night, she was talking out of her asshole, being a fucktard involving politics, education, religion....my dad was making funny jokes about her and I got a Rum and Coke to fuck me till I got home so that I could write this drunk, for perspective writing of course.

All in all, these were my obserfuckingvations.

Coooooperuier BRowhnwo 

What is up in the hizouse

I suppose I've neglected writing here in a while. I've been in an emotional/activity arc in the last few weeks and I needed to take a breather. First of all, this is the first night in a whole week where I am not required to go out and such. I've spent time with friends, my girlfriend, had a cold sore, battled acne, went to movies, made short movies, done school work, fuck. A lot of shit.

So anyway, I'm updating my iPod till I go to the gym but I just wanted to let anyone who's interested what I'm up to. A few things. Seen Cloverfield, No Country for Old Men and The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Gonna rate them such:

1. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

2. No Country for Old Men

3. Cloverfield

Now, Cloverfield is at the bottom. But - it is still worth seeing all of those mother fuckers. So do so...in that order. On the weekend my friend made me watch a horrible movie called Dirty Work. Don't ever see that movie. 

My cold sore is healed up by now which means tomorrow I can kiss my GF!!! WOooooo! 

And lastly, I haven't really been jerking off, cause J has been doing that for me. Happy days.

Cooper Brown

Project and Cold Sores

I get cold sores. Yes it sucks. I believe I got it from this girl Kelly back in third or fourth grade. I had the hots for her and one time we played truth or dare and I got to kiss her and blamo! she gave me herpes. Ya ya, okay. For those that don't know Cold Sores are a member of the herpes family. Or Herpes Simplex. There are two types. Herpes 1 and Herpes 2. I have one. Therefore they come out on my lips and live in the two nerves that run from my eyes down my cheek to my lips and end in the lips. Therefore I get them there. I don't have Genital Herpes, and I don't get them on my dick. I have them on my lips, and if I kiss someone, they'll get it, but if I eat a girl out, it would be very hard for her to get them. Its not recommended to do that, but its very improbable she will. However, Cold Sores suck. They hurt, they look ugly and I have a girlfriend and can't fucking kiss her for a week. She came over today and I noticed I was having a breakout and it was just embarrassing to tell her. Fuck. But she's so nice and smart and hott, she understood.

Meanwhile, I recently started a new project for myself. I will begin mapping my existence. I have begun Journaling at least every three days about my life. I have also begun to map and publish an autobiography of the last sixteen years of my life. I have no specific reason for doing this, more a combination of reasons which I won't get into. Mostly, I will put up with it because I'll find it fascinating. The last two months will be easy, since I blogged for Jerk Out Month. Yay! 

So, in the end, I'd like you guys to tell me what you think about this project, cause I'm lonely and miss having 5 comments after each post. :(

Cooper Brown

I wish I could blog more...

I wish I could blog more, I likely will in  the future, but right now, I'm in the middle of Exams and not really interested in sharing my thoughts so much, but I decided to sit down and get a few things off my chest. 

1) I've said it before, But I hate it when "friends" have birthday parties that I'm not invited to. I'm not quite the social outcast, so I do end up going to parties and such (well, not nowadays) and I do try to hang out with friends, but recently this girl who is in my general friend circle had a birthday and didn't invite me and I always end up finding out when the large, fun looking album goes up on Facebook. Basically, Its their choice, but its not nice, especially when I see her every day at the very least in Drama, Anthropology, History and more.

2) There is this guy who is very smart in my opinion, is a good actor and is someone on typical terms I'd like to get to know. But he is a huge dick to me. So I think he is an asshole socially. When I brought that up today, all the people around me said that he was so nice to them all the time. It may stem to a time last year where I caused the fall of his iPod that didn't break it. Or, he may be challenged by my intellectual equality to his own. Nevertheless, I think he should stop being such a huge dick, and maybe learn that I am actually just as smart as him or more.

3) My mom is fucking annoying, she just is really stupid and annoying.

4) I do not want to write my fucking math exam. Oh god I hate my math teacher and what math is like in Ontario. (For those non-Canadian readers, each Province regulates their own Curriculum, and the Conservative government in the 90's really screwed it up making the school system ass-backwards and retarted).

5) A good thing on my list now is that I've started another script and it is coming along as smooth as my girlfriend's ass.

6) Speaking of my girlfriend, she has a nice ass and I have girlfriend.

So that seems about for now. My last Exam is Friday, so I will try to update after the exam on friday or something to that extent. Chill out!

Cooper Brown

Mental Health Days and First Time

First off all, I need to get this out of my system: I just checked the referrals to Jerk Out Month, and someone actually Google searched "Jerk Off Pregnant" and linked to JOM. The fuck?

Today I went to school for half a day, called my mom and told her I'm coming home. I said I was sick. I'm sick to a degree. I normally don't take as many "Mental Health Days" as a lot of people, but I've felt rather down in the dumps lately, lots of homework, tests, Exams coming up don't help. And I find its just a distraction from what I really should be doing which is writing music, blogs and scripts. Now, since I'm too depressed to write anything good, I will now post a delicious Blog I had on my old blog on MySpace, until my parents started reading it. This was my first blog ever. So without further ado, this is "Fear and Loathing and Too many drugs".

Fear and Loathing and too many drugs
Current mood: high
Category: Parties and Nightlife

went to the Marijuana march today. holy fuck. im still blitzed. i cant believe im actually writting in the first place, but anyway, i left around 12. started walking to islington station. run into 3 ppl. they notice my tye dye tee.
"You goin to the march?" says the dude

"Mhmm" I say
So ya, so i train rided with them, just for fun. He had a lot of weed. fun fuckidy times. OH, he was selling it. Too much for him to smoke obviously. But it was cool, i was in the fucking westend of t dot, likely 10 km from queens park, and i run into a fellow. what comradeship! anyvey, i ditched them when we got to the park. Walked around, found Colder, a friend, said hi. Walked more, found kirsty and jess and that other girl and kirsty's bro. wasnt high yet. Nodda. Told em, they was walking around. Kirsty gave me a clear paper. Cellophane. FUcked up. I dont wanna smoke plastic. Thats stupid. but i decided to roll anyway. The wind blew my cron all over the fucking grass. Fuck that shit.
"I'm buying a pipe." I says
"We'll be around here..." Replies Kirsty
I get up and walk to the closest tent. Bongs in the hundreds. Pipes from 20-60 bucks. Ive got $45 for the day. My god. I went to the next tent. Pipes are beautiful...and 5 fucking bucks each. OMG!!!!! I got a really pretty white one. My god its nice. I buy it. Run back to the slight hill where everyone was. WTF? Theyre all gone. Theyre all fucking gone. But then i see claire.
"Heyyyy, whatsup?" I ask
"You got papers?" Random guy asks as I sit down.
I plop myself down, I give him the scary plastic one. HE takes it without a thought.
"You seen those before" I inquire.
No reply. FUcking spaced out chimp. I pot my bowl in my new pipe. Im poppin her cherry :). AHa, virginity. I light her up and take 2 hits. Coolios, fun fun. The cellophane joint gets passed to me. What the hell, Ill give er a go, obviously its tested to be safe. I take the hit, suck er all in, hold my breath, not too bad, im a vetern. I exhale. What the fuck? COUGHING FUCKING FIT. What in the name of fuck? I black out. NO shit. I fucking lost it. I wake up. Beats me how long ive been out.
"Youre coughing a lot." Says Claire
Obviously they thought i just laid down.
"I'll take a break." I mutter.
I'm fucking stoned. What the fuck? beats me. I sit there sucking on a few bowls before im totally incapacitated. But i get the bright idea to hide my crons and my pipe in my bag and bolt. I come up with some silly excuse and get the fuck outta there. ICE CREAM! theres an ice cream truck. lets get some fucking ice cream. Huge line, but im patiently stoned. Wait. WAit, WAit wait wait.
"Chocolate Bars! Skip the LINE! IVE GOT ALL THE NESTLE CHOCOLATE BARS!" a guy says
Im salivating way too much for my own good right now.
"Ill get a coffee crisp." I Propose
I offer a toonie.
"I just started man, get two." The chocolate man says.
So the next thing I know I'm done my first coffee crisp. Damn these drugs. WAlk walk walk, where the fuck im going beats the fuck out of m-
"Cooper Brown" Says Wesley
I plop myself down in the circle by wes and ak and jordana. *Unrecollected memory of doing possibly coke*
"Hey guys, check out this pipe." I say opening my bag.
"Cooper Brown, This is beautiful, wow. Check this out Jordana." Wes says excitedly.
"Wow." Jordana, impressed.
"Five Bucks." I say
"You tryin to sell me this pipe." Accuses wes
"I paid five bucks" I say again
"Holy Fuck" Says wes.
I load her up. I do some drugs. A little acid. Devon comes. Do some coke. A bowl. Another bowl....HEADACHE. It just comes. Fuck me silly, it aint fun.
"I'm thirsty, who wants a drink?" I mention
"Sprite" says random girl giving me a toonie.
"Surprise me" Says wes handing me another toonie.
I go and line up in the fajita/gyro line. Its huge, I bail. 

*UNrecollected memory of being lost* Im back in line. 

Wait. See wes, do weird things. Stop. Wait, Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait ....Wait Wait Wait ,Wait Wait Wait ,,Wait ,Wait ,. GEt chicken fajita. Im starving. No pop. WAter. Buy 3 water + fajita. eat. So fucking good. o fuck. Cant find anyone. *Unrecollected lostness* Smoking bowl in circle. *Unrecollected* Watching band. *Unrecollected* Buy juice + pot rice crispy square. *Unrecollected* Smoke more pot. *Unrecollected**Unrecollected**Unrecollected**Unrecollected**Unrecollected**Unrecollected*

*Unrecollected*
Talk. Finish my weed. Good, Im quiting. Somebody talks to me about naming my pipe. I think about it. gather all the cig butts and collect the wasted tobaccy. Put it in my hand, sprinkle it on wes. Purple dinosaurs. Call dad. Throw butts on wes. Call dad. *Unrecollected* FUck people. *Unrecollected* sober up. im getting sober. sobersobersobersobersobersobersobersobersobersobersobersobersobersober
sobersobersobersobersober, go to spadina. go home. Rent Fear and LOathing in Las Vegas. How appropriate. Assume the couch potato position. WAtch. FUn times. Dad comes home. watches a bit with me. I bull shit about my day. Im still fucked but mellow and burntout.
"Ha, you feel like your actually stoned watching this, eh? Do you feel stoned?" Asks my dad sincerely
"haha..." I respond without humour
He goes away. LMAO. Holy fuckneds. if only he knew the humour in that. finish. great movie. great day. Drugs are great. say no to saying no to drugs. C-Dawg Out. Fuck yall, peace, have sex but use protection. Awesome. Free tibet. Can't stop here, this is bat country.

Wasn't that just spectacular everyone? Horrible grammar, I made up words, but-I had a good time I think that day. Back when I use to do large amount of drugs. BTW, the pipe I bought I named Milky, because Its white - but I left it in a field one time when I went to a party and thought I was gonna get beat up or get arrested...(I don't like parties)... :).

Cooper Brown

First Thoughts

I was thinking, what do I do here. I have less restrictions then on Jerk Out Month, like I can jerk off, look at porn, not have to chronicle my day to day activities, do more journal stuff, not have to talk about Masturbation and stuff like that.

And unlike Dave Stein, I will actually post things.

I suppose I'd like to write about my date with J today. For those who did not follow Jerk Out Month, she is my girlfriend. We went to see a play today which was a comedy. I won't get into details but we watched it today, on Sunday, and it made fun of Jesus. Alleluia! After that, we went for Sushi, and filled ourselves. She even wanted to pay, which I didn't let her, but she actually feels for me so she's obviously not selfish. We got yelled at by homeless people until we got on the subway and then I got off at her stop and proceeded to make out with her for a long while. She told me she had a super awesome time. We're hitting it off awesomely. 

Now, when I went to catch another train, there was this fairly hot girl standing waiting, and then she bent down and had a tramp stamp and a thong sticking out, and as I watched her butt, she had rolling papers sticking out of her back pocket. Don't get me wrong, I like J and I'm hers, but that was hot stuff.

Well, I'll think of something awesome to write about sometime this week, in the mean time, check in regularly and tell your friends mother fuckers.

Youtube splurge before I splurge