Dutiful sports viewership

 I've been watching the Raptors a lot lately. Like, every game. Pretty much since the pandemic/lockdown started, we're talking years now. I watched them in a bubble in Tampa Bay last year. I never would have expected that I would become a sports fan, and here I am genuinely enjoying watching NBA basketball. I suppose I kinda hopped on the bandwagon after the 2019 NBA championship win. Kinda bummed Kyle Lowry isn't with the team anymore.

Lately, they've been pretty good. Fred VanVleet is playing like an all-star, starting great plays for his teammates and shooting dagger 3s all day long. I admit that I am a part of the "Fred VanVleet Fan Fleet". And Siakam has been really great. And the rookie, Scottie Barnes! So fun to watch.

That's my basketball viewership in a nutshell.

A wild Kanye concert appears

 So it's Thursday night, and like most nights I'm on Twitch for a while, looking at a couple streamers play my favourite games. I then notice that Amazon is promoting some concert, Kanye and Drake. A pretty big deal.

I tune in, and for the first like hour there isn't much, but eventually a crowd of singers populate the stands and they start singing. Twitch comments are mostly clamoring for the stars to show up, but it's not bad.

Eventually Drake and Ye show up, and they hug and stuff. Dunno where Drake went, but DAMN Ye is popping off with CLASSIC HITS. I'm talking Jesus Walks. I'm talking Gold Digger. This is so damn entertaining.

So that's what I'm doing right now. Listening to some artists perform a relief concert for a gangster in prison. Cheers!

Keep the blog runnin'

 Wow. It's been almost exactly a year since I wrote my last post.

 The pandemic is still going. I haven't seen any friends in over a year. Actually, like nothing has changed since this moment last year.

 I lost a lot of motivation to blog... but I didn't want to abandon my blog completely, so here I am. I'm not going to write much, I just wanted to make sure I wrote something because this is the longest break I've ever taken.

 I wish sometimes this was more social, not like Facebook, but that maybe I had other blogger friends.

 Wishing's a start.

A virus appears

Since my last post, a lot has changed.
Well, not that much for me personally: I'm still cooped up at home, but fears of catching and spreading a virus that has shut down large parts of society is now persistent.

I don't feel like writing much these days, but I figure I'd write at least one thing for the month of March. Yep, just living day by day, and all you hear on the news are things about the virus.

It kind of sucks. I have to be careful when I go for walks outside, trying to stay my distance from other people stretching their legs.

I wonder how long this will last.

I'm enjoying Breath of the Wild. I decided to finally get it because I knew I would be cooped up inside a lot. Meanwhile, Animal Crossing released a while back and a lot of people, Twitch streamers and folks whose stories I read online, are raving about it. I might end up getting it eventually.

It's a lonely time, but it won't last forever.

Mid-February wear

It's pretty late to be up and writing, but I have never forgotten something I read long ago that stated that the most creative writing can happen at the oddest hours.

I don't write much these days. I probably should spend more time on it. And I don't take very many pictures, but there I feel like there isn't much to take pictures of as I don't venture out and about as much. I guess I can blame the cold of the winter.

Still, I ought to publish something, and so here I am, but I don't have any photography for you because I'm too tired to go through the process of uploading and transferring my pictures from one cloud service to another. I might have to get a new Android phone (or keep desperately searching for my old one) because it makes it really easy to access my pictures directly, as Blogger is owned by Google, too.
---
I have an improv event tomorrow morning. It's part of a workshop series called Reclaiming our Power, and it's a once-a-month thing where I interact with folks at a downtown social centre. I don't know what else to call it, but I'm happy that I'm going out for something I planned over a month ago. I know it's helpful to not stay at home all day.
--
Maybe I'll write some poetry sometime on here, sometime. It's something to do. And it's nice to not feel judged for what I write. I just wish that sometimes, I did write and something would write back. I almost wrote to Lyra on here again. It's kind of weird seeing His Dark Materials posters in bus stops and seeing an actress incarnate a being that I refer to in a spiritual manner. Portals to other worlds, well, I haven't experienced them in a long while, but somehow, I'm convinced they're still around.

I'm surrounded by maybes. Maybe I'll try something to help get out of my funk. Maybe I'll cook something. Maybe I'll try sports - I did actually sign up for a YMCA membership again, but for now, it's mostly used for pickleball. Oh, pickleball... Stories abound about pickleball, and I play badminton once in a while, too, but not at the YMCA yet, just at a community centre.

Sports are a good thing, but when I don't do them often, I can't say I miss them terribly. I really love video games too much, I swear, it's so much easier to spend hours immersed in a virtual world, but thankfully, I have sports to do, as well.

A glimpse of my current life.

On The Road to Smash

It's great to freely be able to write about pretty much anything, and I've always thought that writing about something is better than not writing at all. I like writing about writing a lot, because it's so easy and it kind of feels like a cheat code to get out of writer's block.

I'm almost done "On The Road" by Jack Kerouac: I have a half-dozen pages left and it's not a bore. I think the fact that I mentioned not having read the book whilst citing it as an influence on my writing was making me feel inauthentic, and I have to say it's a fun book to read because there's always something happening. I tend to read pretty fast, which makes it possible to get through books in less than a month (which is about how much time it took to read it), but the downside is I'm not going to win any awards for what I interpret from it. That is to say, I'm not quite sure what to take out of the book other than getting a sense of what the beat generation was like.
Supposedly, some of the characters are modelled after real people from the era, like Kerouac himself and Allen Ginsberg, the poet, and I'm not huge into that scene so suffice to say that I enjoyed the book for the excitement of seeing what it might have been like to live in the late 40s/early 50s on an American road trip. There's lots of introspection on behalf of the narrator, and it's kind of cool how easily Kerouac describes the transitions from one side of the country, the atmosphere of the west coast in California and the bustle of the city in New York, and of course the feel of what it's like in Colorado.

Other than reading "On The Road", I've been obsessively playing through Super Smash Bros Ultimate on my Nintendo Switch for entertainment and the addictive nature of beating mini-stages and collecting spirits to level up is starting to wear off. I'm playing through the adventure mode, too, and you collect spirits in there that can help you beat other spirits, and you can send some spirits on missions to find items to defeat other spirits but I don't really see the point so the fun is in playing the various stages with varying conditions and I let the computer decide what spirits match up best to defeat the CPU opponent.

And of course, I play Super Smash online. I played a lot of Palutena last week, but I like to switch characters around a lot so I play some Zelda and of course some Roy, too. Once in a while I'll try a character I'm not great with, like Robin, and get completely destroyed but the "Global Smash Ranking" doesn't mean much to me so I don't really care if it goes way down from the 4 million points or whatever. Really, it's always fun to play against real opponents more rather than stacked-up CPU bots, so I play online and although I know that video games suck up way too much of my time (so does Reddit... again!), maybe it's okay because it feels like I'm at least doing some thinking about how best to win.

I'm finding it tedious to upload pictures from my Windows Phone, but the pictures I take are uploaded automatically to the cloud, it's a matter of transferring them from one service to the other and I said I wanted more pictures on each blog so here are some pictures I have lying around from a couple months ago when I was playing Smash and kind of annoyed by Nintendo for having a "Melee" tournament with Smash balls from Brawl and I was going to upload them to Nintendo or something to get something changed but I can see in hindsight that that would have been a complete waste of time so I'll put them here instead.

Now the Raptors are playing and since we've gotten rid of the TV the iMac and we're watching them on the iMac I have to sign off so my housemates can watch the game (and I will probably watch it with them) and I'm surprised that I'm actually watching a lot of Raptors game this year. I guess I'm on the bandwagon since they won last summer.

Till next time!

Omelettes faite

Although this is not a food blog strict, food is an integral part of my life. If I don't eat well, I don't do well, and this I learned 10 years ago when all I cared about was the next sugar high. I see now that sugar is creeping back into my life - in the form of easy carbs - and so I thought I would write about some food that I took pictures of earlier last month in the spirit of remembering to be sane and healthy.

It's February! Maybe vitamin D is low for you too. Cooking makes me feel proud and grounded, connected to the earth & creative and, in my case, helps me stay focused on the good things to keep me going.

Omelettes are awesome for so many reasons: eggs are cheap, incredibly good for you, versatile, and it's simple to be creative when you can stuff them with whatever vegetables and fat & oils and meat and mushrooms helluva spices and whatever herbs that you have on hand. And even if you don't nail the perfect omelette, it's hard to go wrong when you know how to make them, so I thought I would share three pictures of these omelettes that I made last month that filled my mouth with nutritious goodness.

I add the spices in the egg batter first (except salt) and I cook the filling in a separate pan - in this case, celery, mushrooms and probably some bacon

I use as much fat as I can to make me feel full and add the filling when the omelette is mostly done and I fold it over

There's some goat cheese hidden in the omelettes (I try to avoid too much processed cow dairy) and I made an extra effort to add a garnish of parsley

A new decade

If you had asked me when I was seventeen what I thought my blog would look like 13 years later, I would have answered: "probably kind of the same, maybe some cool new web 3.0 gadgets but altogether, a bitchin' log of my life still".

What I did not know was how important this place would become for my sanity. It's partly my lifeline. My bridge between the offline and the online world. My ethnographical account of teenage into young adult into less-young adult life, and also a place to rant and let go of some of the hardships I've experienced in modern, mostly urban society.

The way I write hasn't changed much. I seldom prepare anything in advance. After all, this blog was originally created after an english assignment in high school prompted me to create an art project with words, and my influences at the time ranged from XKCD to Jack Kerouac's stream-of-consciousness novel, On the Road (which I still haven't read but have lying around). The point is, I will continue to blog liberally.

Fading angster ❙ hiver, solstice

Okay this one is short I swear.
I'm here before the clock strikes twelve.
I feel joy, for it is the winter solstice, and I haven't blogged at night in such a long time!

Mon arbre favoris; ma stabilité naturelle

Segue equivocation into Grammatical commentary

Oh hey, I think it's another one of those "it doesn't matter what you write as long as you write" kind of posts, so I better watch out how I'm going to format this one lest someone try to infer some deeper meaning from the stylistic choices that I make about how I write and present said writing.

I'm in a slowed-down reality because although I'm pretty much doing some freewriting/free-journaling again, it won't purely be this method because I'm using pen and paper first and then transcribing onto the screen. Thus my idea-to-writ time has changed.
I type much faster than I write and that's a double-edged sword because, generally speaking, this difference in speed enables me to publish a lot of junkspeedily-typed things out there - sometimes even imaginary words - and it also enables me to be far more efficient, if not prolific.

Un des chats qui m'apporte un support moral sans équivoque avec ma vie d'écrivain non-payé

Words, clouds, lists, material

I learned a technique a few years ago. It's not a particularly secret or innovative mode of behaviour, but because it was explicitly taught to me by a group facilitator and our collective temporally-conscious inputs as group members at one of the many support groups I've attended in the Big Smoke, it holds a special place in my hippocampus (or wherever it is that long-term memories are stored; I know and remember that it's not Broca's area).

Anyway all you need is a 1 pen, 2 paper, 3 the capacity to write lines & words, and 4 a meticulous, obsessive, goal-driven personality that constantly bombasts you with curious ideas that seldom mesh together except in the nether realm, like a series of bad staccato notes slightly off-tune from one another, written on the walls of an empty, desolate, and capitalistically barren grand piano ballroom - think a mix of Mr. Kalorium's Lonely Western Shoppe and a dusty composer's den. That or an automaton who can do it for you.

If you meet only 3/4 requirements for the technique, that's okay: you might get some benefit out of it just the same, but beyond the 50% and I make zero claims as to the efficacy of this technique for countering boredom and the growing unease at the lack of balance between your ego and your id.

You make lists.
It doesn't matter when.
This is a list.
But it's a faiku.
And then you cross off things that are done.
Again it doesn't matter when but convention seems to indicate that it's a good idea to cross something off at the end of the day, or, if you're feeling bold & disorganized like I sometimes just am, at the end of the week, fortnight, month, and - do I dare dream - the end of the year.

Anyway that's the technique that I claim as my own to make me feel like I accomplished something during some of my downspiral, Laura days. Remember her, reader?

Drawing art seems to help, too, just don't go submitting your *ahem* early works to OCAD anytime soon or else I might have some competition for my loosely abstract representation of what it's like to be a materialist obsessed with sounding cool in english. Or like, whatever, man.

Sharpie on construction paper

Happy chair-tonique: Partie un + deux + trois

Why does no one in the city care about health?

Partie 1 - Friday the last of November


Aside from the fact that Hayley sings to "stop asking why" and the fact that some of my voices are making it incredibly difficult to focus, I think it's completely bonkers that adults who care about their mind & body get completely shafted by corporations. I'll give you three examples. Pardon the grammar - as usual, what.

If I want to practice yoga in a clean (read: free from cat dandruff), fresh, and safe studio, I have to pay upwards of $12 for simply doing my thing and I can't bring my own food because it tends to smell too offensive to the vegan + vegetarian crowd that, last I checked, was a majority in these places. And I think wool is an awesome material.

If I want to meet new people at cool hangout spots, they all sell overpriced junk like beer, grain-based foods (too much popcorn, man...), and otherwise high-carb frankenfoods that usually cause long-term dysfunction in the brain.

If I want to play a new sport, even the community centres cost me too much: there used to be drop-in programs that were free. The only cost was your time spent enjoying community, team-based games, and if the government employees didn't set up the space, it was not a problem to set it up yourself - as long as you cleaned up after so that the the next eager facility users wouldn't grumble.

I know! I need decent, enjoyable, good-stress work in Toronto. The problem is I spend(t) my money on stupidly overpriced things like the aforementioned junk foods and - let's be honest - stupidly overpriced marijuana and vaporizers (and their accessories) last time I had a job and I'm desperately trying to save to lead a less stressful life - in the future, whatever that is.

I love gaming. Why is no one (read: my empty social life) into the same things I'm into like card games without lattes, or tabletop games without acohol, or even PC games without lonely individual booths? More importantly (for many of you), why is all the food at 90% of the Toronto & bar buildings just NOT good for me (and consequently, you)? Why does no one care about their health just like I do? It just ain't right, and no one believes in the power of food to heal as opposed to sustain or harm. It's sickening that it's so hard to find a place to enjoy my favourite hobbies with others who are also part of the human family (and personal social fabric).

-Part one is drawing to a close-

L'action de merci

Happy (American) Thanksgiving!

I've been thinking about continuing with my gratitude journal.
I think that many people might argue that being thankful only once a year might not be conducive to being happy all the time.
Does it necessarily follow that being thankful every day of every year will lead to more happiness?
According to one robust source, it can.

A funny dilemma spurred this blog post. On the one hand, the above source mentions reduced materialism as a positive side effect of keeping a gratitude journal. On the other, I need to locate or buy a new gratitude journal to write in; this makes me wonder if I'm being materialistic by offloading my gratitude journal to my blog.

You and I might know that I promise things in writing that I don't often follow through on. If you look back at some of my posts, some of them ancient, some of them recent, you will have a hard time finding patterns. That's because I'm constantly reinventing myself, and I'm thankful that I have the time to pretty much compose whatever I want, whenever I want whilst my basic living expenses are paid for - for the most part - by my nuclear family.

Alors aujourd'hui, pour l'action de grâce américaine, je remercis les ainés dans ma vie, et j'exprime de la gratitude pour le fait que j'ai un emplacement quasi-sacré où je peux m'exprimer sans être attaqué par des gens que je ne connais pas.

Since I'm 99% canadian, it's difficult for me to speak about a holiday that I don't really relate to. So I will continue to write about my daily life, and in doing so, I hope you will be inspired to, mayhaps, take up writing as a hobby.

Medicontemplate

I dread meditation. I really do. I've read hundreds of pages about it and I still dread the word. Notwithstanding the fact that I practice it on a semi-regular basis - usually in the mornings (because the elders tell me it's easier to do it then), it's just too mainstream for me to feel cool about it.
I prefer not to think about it because I fear that I will mess up a tradition that sounds an awful lot like the word "medication".

Have you taken your meditation today, Mr. Ghoule?
No, I'm afraid not.
Oh? Why not?
My back hurts like mad, goddamn you, and all these chairs are made for either older or shorter people.
Just follow your breath!
Yeah, but my diaphragm is weak because of all the -cold substances- that were drawn in by it and my throat is sore from all the anti-meditative states I find myself in and, furthermore, the echoing voices I constantly cannot ignore do not care about what I see; they only care about what I feel.
Just let the breath flow naturally.
-_- 

---

I can't believe people get paid to instruct people how to breathe.

Souvenirs day of it

I walked - that's a given.
J'ai marché - c'est sûr et certain.

J'ai trouvé un évènement dans le magazine NOW: une marche guidée à Toronto pour se rappeler du "Women's Mounted Land Army, 1919". J'ai découvert que cette marche se passait dans mon coin, et, en 15 minutes (ou moins), j'ai décidé de m'y rendre tout habillé en mode hiver et... rien.

Personne. Well, there were people, and it seemed like a walker might have been there for said event, but she continued on her way. There was a backpacker, with patchouli backpacks and a movable plus-sized basket, but he continued along the way.

Je ne regrettes pas m'y être rendu car la neige était follement douce, et marcher comme un pinguin m'a fait du bien.

I'll make my way out of the labyrinth

Inspired by Firewind

Dutifully, I searched for a band starting with the name and, rather, the letter D. Stream-of-consciousness makes me feel like I must keep going forwards, but the lack of english of the anglo kind makes it difficult for me to feel safe online - and offline - any more. Speaking, I mean, writing of/about mores, I am questioning my choice to stick to a sociological inquiry of society.

A clerical use of paragraphical grammar makes it easy for me to claim that I know how to write. I refuse to cite sounds. I refuse to cite sights. I refuse to cite optics, and I refuse to cite memory. How will Broca's area survive the lattice?

Find out next time on another renaming of A kaleidoughscope of writings, the first time, ladies and gentlemen (now it gets difficult), that I refuse to bow down to people that sound like machines.

No more pretending to be a king, no more princes then.

Give yourself up

Only positive things!
Fire and faerie, it’s awesome to be in a 2019 society.
The music is practically free when you take the time to find and appreciate its artistry, and I have access to safe medicinal plants. It’s gratifying being here and appreciating what I live with.

I make chocolate. It’s great: I buy it, and then I add coconut oil, and then I freeze it. It’s calming and grounding to craft time up in the kitchen, the beautiful place where I live to eat, and the chocolate turns out great because I spend time thinking about what I am doing in said kitchen.

I had a good day with a good amount of sunshine. With less yelling, I can listen with softer ears.

Too much tiletwitch

You know what? I’ll just insert some random pic to enable a return to the past in the future. Am I tired of writing, am I exhausted, or am I captivated too often by the bright lights? All good questions worthy of their own time limits, I suppose.

The age of intensity

Age of intensity conjures up an image of how one could perceive a demanding and controlling medical system. By this, I mean that I find it difficult to stay on one topic when all I can think about it is how exact such a system can be.

The grammar is a mystic's tool. By rearranging different rules in writing, different rules in speech, and different rules of the society's choosing, control is de facto present because of the governing rule of grammatic artists' collective consciousness and influence on complexity of neccesary said grammatical rules. In other words, oppression and intensity are like twins on a beach.

What about limiting the car choices? What about limiting how many flights one can order through a phone? What about strangulation of individual freedoms - who will dissent when the counter and pro cultural movements waste time, money, and future and past space.

Losing track of time and losing battles against meditative wars is a scary concern.
The Black Clouds and Silver Linings are still playing, and I hit publish.

Edit: Jul 2022 I'm going to leave this post up because it's one of the weirdest things I've ever written, and that's saying something. Enjoy.

Dragons and demons and swords and tape

I hope you're getting the shield
Yeah, well, I'm still listening to Drake and wishing I had more time to learn how to re-enjoy my ex-hobbies

It turns out that sometimes, when people say "oh, my ex" they're not actually referring to ex-girlfriends (or boyfriends; ex-girlfriends before ex-boyfriends on Thursdays because Thursday is ladies' night pretty much everywhere) - they're in fact referencing past experiences, because women aren't objects.

Rocaillichou et le masque de fer

Il y a longtemps déjà, il existait une roche parlante, si polis à cause du temps et l'expérience que plusieurs poissons, qui habitaient proche de la roche, décidèrent de la nommer "Rocaillichou" en l'honneur de la pagaille de quatorze dix-huit, la tourbillonnante.

Rocaillichou était une roche resplendissante, même quand elle était à l'ombre du soleil et, parfois, pouvions-nous l'entendre chantonner avec une voix rauque (et rocailleuse quand il neigeait). Nous nous réfugiâmes loin de la roche quand il pleuvait; autrement, nous les molécules ombrées, admirâmes Rocaillichou de loin quand la pénombre tombait. Nous nous cachions parce-que le fluorure chantonné invisible de Rocail' pouvait nous faire réagir d'une façon inconstante.

Les molécules particulaires qui habitaient plus loin que nous, et par conséquent qui n'avait pas la joie d'entendre Rocail' avec sa voie parsemé de trouvailles bijoutées, se promenaient sans joie - non à cause du manque de fluorure, mais plutôt à cause de la nobilité talqueuse qui égratignait leur pesanteur historique. En autre mots, ils étaient malléables, tandis que nous étions rigides mais plus rapproché de Rocail', et par conséquent choucouprés.

À être continué...

Prise singulaire

Caught in the middle... of my university degree

Don't need no one else, I can run away from it all by myself

I don't need no help, I can start flame wars all by myself

Don't need no one else, I can walk it all by myself

I don't need no help, I can write this blog out by myself

... and brute force for all

... always double check what blog you're writing to because sometimes I write things that people do not have the capacity to understand because they are also disabled. Oh, and my doctoral thesis is still in the works and I am not great with procedural errors because I do not have a reason to care about them because I am finally institutionalisationally free.

I must be doing something write with my life because I am a smart human being who seldom gets As in school because getting there is a complete nightmare and I really, really, really dislike vehicles with 0-1 people in them.

You know, I'm going to continue writing in english for a while and be greatful for the fact that I'm still not writing in french because apparently languages that humans speak are not as important as C+. /s

In other news, I am grateful for the fact that I managed to avoid reddit for an entire month+.

Lastly, I am expressing gratitude for all the music I get to listen to without fear of being pursued by the law because I actually pay for my own life now instead of having my parents do and decide everything for me.

My english writing is pretty violent, but it helps me feel better so I write it out and sometimes, reader, I publish without thinking about who is out there reading this because I don't get constructive feedback anymore. To be fair, if you're reading this, it's possible that you don't get feedback on things you write either, but my time is limited due to my heartbreaks and I don't mind making my writing illegible so that robots cannot skim the data and rehash it for other people to take and make their own... without my feedback, I am an empty shell of a writer.

Words have power, so I know I must be careful with what I publish, but because I have always considered this place my safehaven, I think the Canadian and American lawyers can get off my back: I have not made a dime off my high school project (and I still don't have that diploma!), but hey, I made it to the #1 university in Canada so maybe if the people who know nothing about my life could stop being obnoxious, my life would be sooooo much better.

I'm reading a book called Whale Music by Paul Quarrington and, so far, I find that it is pretty great because the word Toronto is mentioned and a major part of my identity is the fact that I continue to live here (but I complain about noise complains more than 25 years ago)(or not, I really can't remember).

COMODO CA how ya feelin".

Screams so real

Hey, mister murder I; hey, mister murder I; bought you a plastic mouse; needed four pairs of eyes; I left two of them - behind!

Inspired by: A Metric Fire Inside

Steptember climber

I was once asked: "Gabe, why do you front so much"?
I replied: "I don't even know what fronting means".
If it means being inauthentic, then I have fronted before, because to live authentically is to write and communicate in a way that transcends basic barriers of speech, and, insofar as platitudes and weather talk loudly, writing softly is far more challenging for me when I don't have the right people and influences around me to effectively convey what my mind wants to say.

Unreleased and keyworded - Freewriting the Grey

Robbed the arctic.

I’m sick of citing musical influences, so I’ll just say that I listened to Paramore radio... again. And Mississippi John Hurt as performed by my dad.

I went somewhere I should not have yesterday. In this place, I found it difficult to breathe. How are you going to tell people to breathe if you can’t listen? How can you tell people to listen if they can’t breathe? No subject matter, NO PROBLEM.

Arraigning your own way

I went my own way, too

Master list of labelling fits

J'écris souvent des listes. Ces listes, souvent bureaucratique en nature, esquivent mon regard quand il m'arrive d'oublier que je les ai écrites. Ces listes, je les trouves importantes car elles me gardent centré sur la folie sans équivoque que je subjonctivize et bastardise en forme écrite. C'est absurde, mais c'est comme ça que j'écris maintenant.
Une liste qui archive des listes n'est pas gaulois; par contre, plusieurs listes qui ont la capacité d'organizer plusieurs listes ... c'est quoi un minitel?

'cause no one helped me, no one helped me except the 'hood

The music in this city is truly horrendous after a long weekend (especially when the locals get to pick).

Ceci étant écrit, je vais continuer d'achalander le traffic pédestre en compétionnant avec les automobiles perdues et, en autant qu'il y a un chauffeur et plus, je suis heureux

Title inspired by whatever the hell is playing on the kitchen radio (usually boom, but sometimes Ez Rock y Mix).

C'est absurde!

Craz-ghee-ly

J'ai fait une recette aujourd'hui, une recette que je voulais faire depuis plusieurs année. C'est une recette de ghee. Je l'ai réussie, et la couleur dorée m'excite et mon sens de créativité gustative réagit.

La recette, bien sûr, viens du livre Nom Nom Paleo par Michelle Tam et Henry Fong et m'a pris environ une demi-heure. Je n'ai aucune affiliation avec eux sauf le fait que j'emprunte leur livres à la bibliothèque publique de ma ville.

Je n'ai pas encore de photos à partager et, comme je suis habitué de procrastiner avec mes promesses écrites, je n'ai malheureusement pas d'autres informations à partager.

J'ai pris ma bicyclette et j'ai pris une bouffée d'air frais en préparation pour l'automne, la meilleur saison pour prendre un retrait de l'activité échaffaudant de la ville.

Bonne journée et à la prochaine entrée!

Champion monstré

J'avais des soucis et je me sentais tracassé par les automobiles du coin quand j'ai décidé d'écrire quelque chose de différent pour une fois. Il faut dire que je me réessaye en français, et comme je n'ai plus accès à mes anciennes connections Ventrilo, il est très difficile pour moi de rester concentré car je me rappelais que, jadis, j'étais plus confortable quand j'écrivais devant mon ordinateur à moi et à moi uniquement.

Essaie

Coucou!

(^_^)

Le poisson ainsi coloré

It is a crazy thing that I continue to write despite oppressive conditions.
The oppression is a disambiguated word that really does not belong in the city that I live in.
I continue to write, I continue to listen, I continue to pretend to remember what offices I used to camp in.
You may find it strange that these words, ever so effortlessly written, continue to haunt me, but I am frankly sick of hearing things that do not make me feel happy. Writing conveys what I hear, and sometimes all I hear is people discouraging me.
Wanting to convey something that travels near e=mc2 and transcribing it into a continuous theme of x is a wanton thing to do.
I prompted this post by examining a card that beats down any one else.

History bit - un porte-manteau

I spent the majority of the 5th of August obsessing over plant matter.

By using that day for/to lose my time in front of plant matter, il n y a pas d'options francophiles si il n y a personne qui s'intéeresse à mon histoire t ragique, et pourtant... si comédique!

I hate it when people telll me a word is one way, and they tell me then that it's actually pronounced another way. Do I hate the spell check? Who doesn't? Not me! I'm an expert at it, except when it comes to properly construced grammatical sentences.

Une plainte presque bilingue (no phoques to give)

Okay, if you can't tell by now, I suffer from a non-serious condition called VAS. You can google it, but again, google does not endorse or condone such behaviour so do so at your own peril.

 

Writing prompt: European media and products

 

 

Trop de temps ligné aux écrans

Purpose: To shut down YouTube... for good!
Observation: My mom pulled a "burrito" out of the fridge. It was not a cat.
Result: I laughed; my mom told me that I like to play games. Elle m'a dit: "t'aime ça jouer des tours, hein? Hihi! :D"

Santé CDN, plantes, et phoque la combustion?

Je ne penses pas que c'est fair que une corporation gigantesque comme Storz & Bickel peut vendre à un prix exorbitant leur produits sur le marché canadien sans faire de la market research.

Je sais ce don je parles: j'ai acheté et effectivement essayé plusieurs de leurs produits sur une période de plus de dix ans à plusieurs emplacement (et surtout, et presque toujours, au centre de l'univers).

Alors, pourquoi leur produits fait en plastique sont t-ils tellement plus cher que les compétiteurs? Pourquoi on-t-ils une certification de Santé Canada avant des compagnies "locales", comme Arizer, Dynavap, ou DaVinci?

Ma théorie est-qu'ils ont payé beaucoup plus cher pour ?? et ultimement, cet argent est allé dans le matériel et accessoires. Exemple: mon kit Dynavap (maintenant disparût à la grande ville) peut-être modifié avec l'ajout d'accessoires. Même chose avec mon MFLB. Et, non, je n'ai pas été payé pour écrire ces observations d'objets.

Mon point est que le gouvernement canadiens fait des idiocies avec leur recommendations génériques comme: "le cerveau arrête de se dévolepper après 25 ans" et "fumer est addictif". La plus grande insulte? Ils mettent encore le Cannabis dans la section "drogues et médicaments" et, à cause de ces recommandations datés, les gens comme moi souffrent parce-que certains organismes non-gouvernmentales veulent maximizer leur profits au dépend des investisseurs et consommateurs canadiens.

These OS & language wars are getting out of hand

Firefox pour la recherche

Cultures

Il n'y avait pas de révolution culturelle avant l'agriculture.

There was no culture before agriculture.

Due Questioning = Due Diligence

Il me semble que voir comment les PMEs fonctionnent reste un monde à découvrir.

J'ai plusieurs questions qui me hantent. L'une d'elles, c'est où puis-je trouver solace; sanctuaire?

Trop souvent, mes questions restent sans réponse, sans contexte, démunies de toute semblance de relations fiable à une grammaire.

Écrire positivement ne vient pas facilement à un écrivrain anglais saisonné.

La minette qui recherche sa maîtresse?