Moles skins

Yes, I haven’t posted in a good couple of months. 

There is no explanation, aside from the fact that sometimes tumblr is less of a close friend to me and more of a sexting buddy. In any case, here’s a haiku dedicated to the ginger ale bottle that’s been sitting in my t.v. shelf unit for the whole summer:

Green untouched bottle
I should really move you soon
Maybe in three months

This falls in the same vein as that clean laundry sitting on my computer chair. Every night, it gets moved to the floor, then moved back when I’m done with the chair. I know, it’s a flawed system. 

Nothing screams writing your paper for Canadian Theatre more than making a “Sex List” instead of writing your paper.

I’ve been invited over to my friends house so we may motivate each other to do homework, but of course this just leads to us making a list (in order) of who we would bang out of our friends. 

Wanna make one? It’s easy! 

Step 1: Cease to think of them your as your friends.

Step 2: Begin seeing them as a purely sexual entity. Ex: Think of them like the animated Aladdin, or David Bowie.           

Step 3: Now that the messy politics are out of the way, order them from “I’d obvi tap that” to “Yeah maybe if I was drunk”. This is not meant to be offensive, remember, they are no longer your friends. Just delightfully attractive strangers in a bar.    

Step 4: Exchange and create a sex list with a friend  because having a sex list to yourself is concerning.  

Step 5: Make “Sex List” into “Bucket List”. Set Goals!      

Enjoy making sex list! I sure will. Sorry professor, if I get an F on this paper it’s probably just because you’re number 25. 

My day consisted of busy, fairly uneventful school, and didn’t get interesting until I came to Pincher Creek. And by Pincher Creek, I mean Pincher Creek, the town that prides itself on the new Tim Hortons with a sign that reads “WANT HOT COFFEE? WE HAVE IT”. Hey, at least they know their competition and don’t shy away from their strengths. 

A glimpse inside of life here? I watched propaganda films with Dad while reading Farside, then had my ass handed to me in Wii bowling (courtesy of Mom), and finished the night with Chai tea and M*A*S*H. 

But my night wouldn’t be complete without the conversation my Mother and I had before she headed to bed 20 minutes ago. “Oh Kath, there are pebbles on the stairs because of the nun who stayed here a week ago.*” “….Nun?” “Yeah, we had this really strange lady show up saying she was on a pilgrimage and was a nun. She needed a place to stay so I let her and in return she gave us some art: felt J’s with splenda packets glued to them and the names ‘Mary, Joseph and Jesus’ written on them. It was weird. Anyways, that’s why there are pebbles. Night.”

I’ll lull myself to sleep with images of Splenda packets, while reading Drag Queens on Trial. Good night Pincher.

*My parents live in an old rectary attached to the church. Nuns transpiring on our doorstep isn’t entirely unheard of.