Captain’s Log: Hate Date 11/14/2013

I’m going to just start using this as a journal, a captain’s log, like Picard, to keep track of my progress, or lack there of. Like a sport’s journal. 

I remember a Calvin and Hobbes week long or so run where Calvin decides to take up gum chewing as a sport and keep a log to track his progress. That particular concept has stuck with me, and when taking up new things like working out, or, actually practicing my guitar, I would consider the sport’s journal for a moment, that’s all, then go watch the Daily Show or a craft a sandwich with scraps of whatever seemed good or unspoiled in the fridge. 

I’m not sure what exactly i’m going to be tracking here. Anything and everything I suppose. It might just be all in vanity, something for a biographer to use as a primary source after I die or lose my mind. 

I hope he or she is the only one that actually reads this because I’ll probably write really embarrassing stuff for me and other people. I’m going to use names. Intimate, personal, and absolutely mundane things. For instance, I might have  a particularly great shit one day and feel the need to talk about it. I guess the biographer could go through my texts with Ethan Stearns and Jason Bubalo if they really wanted that info. That shit will exist forever, right*? In some NSA storage facility on the moon? It’ll be the future. We’ll have quick and easy moon access by then.

So, right now I’m at work, not working, obviously. Bit of a hangover right now. Had a few whiskeys at the Power House last night in Hollywood. Not too many, though. 3, i think. Plus the two I had at Lisa B’s before going out. So five. Three types of whiskey.

I was hoping to run into some easy sloot but I didn’t even bother to try. I was more interested in texting Izzy and minding my own business. It was waste. I could have, should have, done that from home. But then I’d have nothing to write about today.

But that would be fine because instead of writing texts with useless things like, “show me your tits” I could have been writing my book. Or worked on getting my short stories published. Or began research for my screenplay about a young George Washington who’s a clandestine assassin for the emerging rebellion. Kind of a Lincoln: Vampire Hunter meets Bourne Identity thing. Does that sound good? I think it sounds awesome.

I’ve also decided to get a crack smoking, alcoholic mayor of Toronto Rob Ford with an owl tattoo. I’m thinking this image:Image 

or this one:




or this:



but i also like the one with the football: Image

But it has to have the owl. My friend, muse, and dream wife Carissa sent me a link with this quote to inspire me to get it, i think: “The owl spirit animal is emblematic of a deep connection with wisdom and intuitive knowledge. If you have the owl as totem or power animal, you’re likely to have the ability to see what’s usually hidden to most. When the spirit of the animal guides you, you can see the true reality and see beyond illusion and deceit. The owl also offers for those who have it a personal totem the inspiration and guidance necessary to deeply explore the unknown and the magic of life.”


I’d be stupid not to get the tattoo, right???

I think this was a fair start. 

Good talk.



Not literally, of course. I’m talking about my texts.


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