fantastic that you should find yourself here. im here, you're here. please feel free to 'perooze' this here stuff. its full of fantat. check it out. and i hope afterwards, you realize, that, ive touched you deep in your heart. and that ive touched your moms, deep in their pants.


the car is crashing into my face.


its time again. for. me. to. tell. you. something. i. was. thinking.

i had an interesting conversation the other night. well it wasnt really a conversation, it was more of a 'someone saying something to me, and then me wandering off in my mind, storifying the events'. and where does that take/lead and leave us? ill tell you!

but first. we all at one point of another have traversed the undercity by means of public transportation. i for one am still subject to that cruelty. and ive noticed a couple of things. this being one of them. accessible plug sockets at Plamondon Metro Station. if you have 'open, accessible to the public' plug sockets in the local Metro station, then you're basically BEGGING me to come down there with a tv and an xbox and play, right there on the platform. i wonder how long i could do that before i got told to leave. am i not entitled to the 'free-lectricity' that my buss/metro pass pays for? i for one will be boycotting these so-called 'free-plugs'. im terribly upset. these are the one set of holes in montreal im unable to plug.

however. here is the real issue. or at least main chunk of this post.

its begins with a little story.

its may 28th, at night, and the little british house is suddenly awakened. a young woman cries 'its time, its time' and her husband is in mad panic, frantically rushing around the house collecting needed things. the couple climb into a small hatchback with the righty steering wheel, and they rush to the hospital. their baby was due. the car careened down the narrow streets of Stevenage, spinning around select roundabouts. suddenly a huge explosion erupted around the little buggy and it was thrown into the air, flipping end over end in the night sky. the occupants screamed as the car plummeted back down to the backwards british ground. with millions of charms of luck and the wearing of seat belts no doubt, the car made it to the road intact and upright. the explosion was ignored and the car moved on. after a few more bends and curves there came a sudden glow from over the small hill in front of them. the blurred light shifted from hues of green to blue to purple to bright pink. as the desperate couple crested the hill they saw that the source of the lights was a city sized triangular alien spaceship. the husband's shock lasted only seconds, after all, his child was about to shot out of the baby-canon to his left. the steering wheel suddenly left his control and the car was pulled into the air by an unknown force. slowly the car moved closer and closer to an opening in the alien spaceship. the doors to the car opened and the couple made leaps for the ground. the asphalt met them and they landed in small somersaults. frantic for the comforts of the sterile hospital, the husband hijacked the next car to venture over the hill. they climbed into the sports vehicle and zoomed forward. the hospital was soon in view; the familiar lights of the ambulances, cold lights pouring from the windows above. the husband spun into the emergency entrance, and hopped over the convertible car door. he opened his wife's door and helped her to the emergency room. once inside they were escorted to the room in which their baby would be freed from the traps of the womb. as the woman lay down in the bed, the lights in the room went off. there were queer wooshing sounds all around and the small patter of padded feet. the woman covered her mouth and stifled a small scream. a passing car lit up the dark room for an instant. the image of 3 black-clad ninjas burned in the eyes of the husband. sinking low to the ground, he took the careful and dangerous stance of the Thang-Ta; a deadly indian martial art. in the deep darkness there were sounds of connecting blows and breaking bones, rivaled only by the small yelps of fear from the pregnant wife. the fluorescent bulbs were re-ignited and the chaos was revealed. three bodies were strewn about in awkward impossible positions, the husband, admist the mess, was now dressed in torn clothing. he looked at his wife and smiled...

....three hours later, shal was born.

now, you see the awesome, crazy, insane, ultimate insanity that surrounded the event of my birth? these are what defined me. these are what define all of us. not these events in particular for you however.

simply, the events that surround your actual birth are what define you. if you were born in a bank or a library, then most likely you end up boring. rich maybe, educated possibly. but boring. the events that made me were of the awesome nature and therefore resulted in an awesome person. how true is that? oh so true.

the events that surround your conception matter little. genetics matter little. sacrificial lambs matter little.

and there you have it. more useless nonsense from my head.