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