Watch Out


Greatest video EVAR! And the song is damn good too.


Crank it up!


Kings of Metal

These guys are amazing. Now you know that.


Remember: one does not simply runana dudada dudada into Mordor.

This Life

I recently found a fantastic quote, relayed by a friend that pretty much says it all.


“There is no shame in loving: it is the sign of a generous heart, and pain is the price of an open soul.” – Source Unknown


For some reason, this statement strikes pretty close to home. And this statement makes me think of this.


I Remember…

This is for you my brothers. I may not post on this blog often, but every year, I promise, I will post this for you. Though *I* will always remember, this is the time of year where *everyone* needs to remember the sacrifices you’ve made for us. The hardships you have and will endure for your country and in the service of helping those in need.


“After all is said and done. We will remember…” -The Devil’s Own by Five Finger Death Punch



The army soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

‘Step forward now, Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?’

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
‘No, Lord, I guess I ain’t.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can’t always be a saint.

I’ve had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I’ve been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn’t mine to keep….
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I’ve wept unmanly tears.

I know I don’t deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you’ve a place for me here, Lord,
It needn’t be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don’t, I’ll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

‘Step forward now, you Soldier,
You’ve borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven’s streets,
You’ve done your time in Hell.’

~Author Unknown~

Do Not Go Gentle

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

–Dylan Thomas

On A Mission

So last post, I told you all an exciting tale of my bout with quitting smoking and “V-Day”. During the period of self-medication to induce sleep, I had frequent outings with Coyote. I will summarize one of these evenings.

So one friday at work, I decide around noon that I am going to do a couple errands after work and then have a beer or two. As the afternoon progressed and the end of the day drew near, I decided I wanted to go home for a beer, before doing my errands. By 3:30pm, beer o’clock couldn’t come fast enough and I was growing closer to the conclusion that my errands were just not going to happen.

I drive to the beer store after work, like a bat out of fucking Hell! By the time I sprint in, get the beer and get home, it is 4:12pm. By 4:15pm, the soothing “pssht” of beer number 2 is heard. Yup, definately no fucking errands this day my friends.

4:18pm, neighbour calls. “Wanna do a quick garage beer?”. “Fuck yes sir!” came the reply. Fortunately he has his own as usual.

5:00pm, message Coyote to go out to karaoke later. After a while he says he will pick me up at 9:00pm. Good. Cuz at this rate, I’m not fucking driving ANYWHERE! At this point, I am finishing beer 5.

A brilliant thought to order food. Hadn’t eaten all day, and at this rate the party will be over very fucking early. Domino’s arrives with buffalo wings. Beer 6 is done.

The night continues unmolested. 9:00pm rolls around, Coyote arrives pretty much right on time. Thank Christ because my 12 of beer is gone and I am thirsty.

Arrival at the “Cock & Hand”, 9:15pm ish. 9:20pm, my pitcher arrives. Karaoke doesn’t start for a bit. Coyote and I visit. 10:30pm, karaoke starts, pitcher number 1 is gone. Fortunately I had the foresight to order another before I finished the last glass.

The rest of the night gets a bit foggy. I can attest to at least 3 pitchers in total at the bar because I had 60 bucks and had no change when I got home. I also know that I dumped a litre of Powerade in my bed the following morning because it got my ass out of bed.

This night was kind of important. It made me realize a few things. First, I make bad decisions when I have been drinking. Nothing bad happened on this particular night, just to clarify. Second, sometimes the things you want and need are right in front of you, you don’t need to look for it someplace else. Third, There is a reason I bring a certain amount of money when I go out, and leave my bank card at home (Neo doesn’t stop). Fourth, fuck I know how to have a good time!

PS. I have a 9″ tongue and I breath through my ears.

Into the Mouth of Madness and V-Day

Well folks, it’s been a while. There are reasons for that, which include my utter hatred of winter, Christmas, my birthday and “V-day”. Plus, this is MY blog so I can do whatever the fuck I want.

Let me count to you, a tale of lunacy. A tale of rage, depression, alcohol abuse and insomnia. I referr of course, to my recent attempt to quit smoking. (Kay, maybe I over-embellish)

First, if someone tells you that using a drug to cure you of using another drug, tell them it can’t possibly work. Well, it does. But at what cost.

I was taking Champix at the start of the new year to quit smoking. Taking the drug as directed should cure you of cravings and the addiction. Well, it did that. I still wanted to smoke, but oddly, I didnt care if I didn’t. GREAT!

Then the insomnia started. At first it was just some very vivid dreams. I am unaccustomed to dreaming, so they woke me up. Then the dreams started to taper off and I found myself waking up, on my own, periodically throughout the night. This, as you can imagine, increased in frequency during the night. And as the days slowly turned into weeks, I became aware of increasing levels of stress. I didn’t *feel* like myself. At all. Which made me very angry. And people always asking “what’s wrong?” made me even more angry because i didn’t KNOW what was wrong. I would go from totally happy, to blood rage, to a complete breakdown within the span of a few moments. This added more stress. Then I couldn’t sleep. When I managed to finally fall into slumber, I was waking up nearly every half hour. More stress. To this day, I cannot determine if the stress was causing the sleeplessness, or if the sleeplessness was causing the mental instability. On a couple of occasions, I saught to induce sleep with obscene amounts of liquor (Thanks Coyote), still nothing. I couldn’t focus on anything, I would get mad over nothing and have frequent bouts of severe depression where I truly did not want to be alive. Still, better than smoking right? <I leave that for you to decide on your own>

I decided to stop taking the pills.

After 6 days of having stopped taking the drug, I have slept a total of 2 nights from bedtime to morning uninterrupted. I have managed to actually smile in the last couple days, and hell, I even laughed once. I look forward to the day where I become me again. If you are one of the people who actually managed to see me in any of the aforementioned states. Sorry. I think it truly was out of my control.

After 6 days, I smoke on occasion. And I probably always will. Because I enjoy it. Unless someone truly doesn’t want to smoke, they’ll never quit. Even those that do, I promise, still want to. Fortunately, I can go without, and maybe one day I will stop altogether.

If you truly want to quit, make sure you are absolutely done and you hate it. If that’s the case, then you don’t need any help. If you *need* to quit for whatever reason, then you’ll need help. To be fair, this is how the Champix drug affected *me*. It’s different for everybody. My roommate has had great success and none of the problems I had.

Happy fucking V-Day. Valentine’s day during a failing relationship is a cunt-hair better than spending it with nobody at all. At least there’s someone to look at, whether you get along or not is irrelevent. Hope that you, my readers (if there’s any left), have a great V-Day. I’ll be getting proper tanked since I evidentally have nothing else to do. I don’t know if there’s a “Bah humbug” for V-day, but there fucking should be. Maybe I will just continue to disdainfully use the term “V-Day”. It kinda sounds gross right?

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