Since i'm too lazy to really go into detail about anything, i'm just writing anything down that has come to my mind about the summer that was. Since school is starting up on Teusday, I'll do it now. Some things may be about you, some things may not make any sense to you (some things are kinda personal), but have fun with it.
Adventure Village mini-putt...finding the phone...balderdash...the cottage...Jay-Z to Tims...Taking Care of Business...Nudie Darts...loft darts...Ti-Cats losing...being reminded of Ti-Cats losing...beach bonfire...9:00 A.M wake-up...track-ball series...Vince's house...8 person pool party...the motion...Blue-Jays game with air conditioning...back-to-back jacks...K-OS is in town...the Go-Train trips...Ted Lilly Long Ball...Coco Crips with a glove on his head...the mall excursions...crazy guy singing on bus...power outage swimming...the ring-toss game...3 AM pen throwing...softball game with Bob...Sunday Night Soccer...Tee-Off Invitational...Micheal Moore's thing...21, At Randy's, and at St. Paul's...11:30 P.M lay-ups...Running the Board..."Did you used to go to BR?"...Jeopardy with Jennings...On The "M"ap...Before and After...Modest Mouse...Classic Vid 1...webcam encounters with Lauren...changing hairstyle four times...tennis...bouncing the ball all the way home...BOOM!...that's alright, I just had toast...home run derby's...bocci ball..."She's a dwarf, I swear"...You SHUT UP LEHEY!...popcorn...Ho! Oooooh!...Office Space...enourmous self-made snorkles...Swatty McByeBye...the euchre comeback win...the night she left...airplanes stuck in trees...Lewis Black...Lingo...S-T-I-N-G...Mark's B-Day Video...The 3 A.M Conversation...The OTHER 3 A.M Conversation...Dashboard's our connection...girls from New York watching me talk to my hand...Spider-Man 2 was good times...working at the cottage...rolling black-out...candles, flashlights and a snack table...Southern Pines with Pedro...3-Point Shoot-Out...Top Spin...Tyson Proof...Stiffy Stuff/Nutty Putty...high-and-tight back suplex...water balloon baseball...knocking down enourmous wasp nest...the dealership day...the fireworks...the nose behind the jail cell...the reunion...TPB Season 1,2,3...MILOSH!...needs more cowbell...0 for 39, let's drain back to back at 40 and 41...cardboard tubes...running into wheel barrow's full of leaves...THAT e-mail...Bob's dive...The Herb...I just bought that t-shirt...Ti-Cats game..."Who is this guy?"...Olympics...TEAM CANADA DIVING!...tag title reigns that end...tag title reigns that begin again...Sasquatch swat...numerous hang-outs at Meg's and Steph's...Labour Day Classic...Serious duster...JayOnraitFISTPUMP69er...back to normal...Ice-cream, key stuck, plant fun...those walks...pine-tree in face...running around the neighbourhood...
To: Randy (You SHUT UP LEHEY!), Shawn (Baaaab Steele), Vince (Undefeated Soccer Team), Sarah (Those times...), Steph (Ooooh... WHAT!... WHAT!..thanks for hearing me out), Meg (They re-signed HIM!?), Rachel (Taboo hero), Jasmina (ELYTE is back, yo!), Nichole (Enjoy the fruit tray...), Lauren (We be cammin'), The Herb (The Herb wants a shirt!) and anyone else that i've forgotten...
Thanks for the most wicked summer ever. I think most would agree with me.
Peace up, A-Town Down on the summer.
And now, to euchre it up in the caf at lunch...
Saturday, September 04, 2004
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Update on the Upside
Well, just a quick update on a bunch of things....
Firstly, I want to thank all the people that have e-mailed me and stuff about 17 Things. I had no idea how far it had actually caught on... and i'd estimate the amount of people reading it to be between 12-15. That may seem small, but for a crappy little blog like that, and for my crappy writing, that's A LOT. And a lot of you seem to like it to enjoy it to. So, thanks again guys... it actually motivates me to write.
Secondly, Randy is coming out with his own set of short stories in the near future. He's just toying with characters and plotlines right now, but it should be coming soon, probably as 17 Things wraps up.
Thirdly, I know Randy and I have mentioned the possibility of bringing back WR Survivor, and we still plan to. The only thing is, at a site Randy and I both visit, they started their OWN survivor. I'm in Tribe 3, I earned us immunity! Whoo! So, anyways, we want that to die down first before we concentrate on Survivor for WR. But it will be coming soon. Keep volunteering.
That's about it... now scroll down and read Randy's post about Canadians at the Olympics, as well as our feature:
VINCE McMAHON DANCING!
Enjoy, kids.
Firstly, I want to thank all the people that have e-mailed me and stuff about 17 Things. I had no idea how far it had actually caught on... and i'd estimate the amount of people reading it to be between 12-15. That may seem small, but for a crappy little blog like that, and for my crappy writing, that's A LOT. And a lot of you seem to like it to enjoy it to. So, thanks again guys... it actually motivates me to write.
Secondly, Randy is coming out with his own set of short stories in the near future. He's just toying with characters and plotlines right now, but it should be coming soon, probably as 17 Things wraps up.
Thirdly, I know Randy and I have mentioned the possibility of bringing back WR Survivor, and we still plan to. The only thing is, at a site Randy and I both visit, they started their OWN survivor. I'm in Tribe 3, I earned us immunity! Whoo! So, anyways, we want that to die down first before we concentrate on Survivor for WR. But it will be coming soon. Keep volunteering.
That's about it... now scroll down and read Randy's post about Canadians at the Olympics, as well as our feature:
VINCE McMAHON DANCING!
Enjoy, kids.
Dissapointing Canadians
Well, the Olympic games are over and wow Canada, we showed the world what a great group of athletes we have. Seriously, 12 medals, does not cut it, when countries like the United States are winning 3 times as many GOLD medal's as us in total.
Now I know people are going to say, "we dont fund our athletes." So let me get this straight ... because we dont fund our athletes it means that we can't swim in a race, or we can't run fast? Last I heard, Canada DOES have olympic sized swimming pools, and we do have tracks to run on. I don't think that the government not giving the athletes money is any excuse. They can very easily go run outside or go swim in ANY pool. Even if the pool isn't olympic size all you have to do is more lengths to make up for it. 12 medals in total is total ridiculous.
oh well, it may not count towards the olympic totals, but Canada is bringing home the World Cup of Hockey ... USA is Tuesday, bring 'em on.
and yes, the stereotype will no doubtly be brought up that "Canada is only good at hockey" ... thank God we got LaCross to back us up.
GO CANADA GO
Now I know people are going to say, "we dont fund our athletes." So let me get this straight ... because we dont fund our athletes it means that we can't swim in a race, or we can't run fast? Last I heard, Canada DOES have olympic sized swimming pools, and we do have tracks to run on. I don't think that the government not giving the athletes money is any excuse. They can very easily go run outside or go swim in ANY pool. Even if the pool isn't olympic size all you have to do is more lengths to make up for it. 12 medals in total is total ridiculous.
oh well, it may not count towards the olympic totals, but Canada is bringing home the World Cup of Hockey ... USA is Tuesday, bring 'em on.
and yes, the stereotype will no doubtly be brought up that "Canada is only good at hockey" ... thank God we got LaCross to back us up.
GO CANADA GO
Monday, August 30, 2004
17 Things TDBID - Part 6
We got up early that morning, surrounded by a bunch of bushes in an open field on the side of the highway. Brittany was feeling the effects of her previous night’s decisions, and so was I, in a way. I woke up with a smile on my face for the first time in a long time. I had dreamt that night, about Brittany and I doing this forever. I had dreamt of us just travelling everywhere and doing whatever the hell we wanted, all the time. I dreamt us living this lifestyle, over and over, in a never-ending cycle of euphoric dreams. But I also woke up to the realization that this wouldn’t last forever. That’s why our 72 hours journey is going to end like it is. It’s impossible to keep this on forever, although, in a twisted sense, my legend will certainly accomplish that seemingly impossible feat in itself.
We headed downwards on the highway, and Brit rested her head on my shoulder while the wind blew at us at a rapid pace. I put my arm around her and drove with one hand, often swerving over to the side of the road. I didn’t really care, although a fiery car wreck is not exactly the way I had envisioned to go. I had to keep going, this was just too good to end already. We still had awhile to go.
I made a sharp right-hand turn onto a side street, now about 100 km’s outside of my hometown. I had a very crucial stop to make, as it was circled with a smiley face on my list. Brit had even drawn a special rabbit with a knife next to it, showing me exactly how important this stop was to the both of us. She’s quite the artist, as there was just a shade of red on the end of the knife too. God, I love her.
We pulled up to a fairly nice house. It looked like you’re average, run-of-the-mill, white-collar home. It even had a white picket fence. I mean, you just couldn’t help but look at it and say it was the normal house you’d see on a TV sitcom. The only thing is, I despise one of those things. No, not sitcoms. Normalcy. I despise it with every ounce of blood running through my veins, as it stands for everything I never had. Nor, will I ever have.
I parked the car, when I noticed something strange. There were people in the house. I had not expected this, for it’s a weekday, and Coach Stevens should be at school. It looks like his wife has stayed home too. That’s quite a shame, they’re about to wish they had gone to work, like “normal” people do.
Brit and I grabbed the essentials from the back seat. Two baseball bats, the gun, and more matches. I gave Brittany the signal, and we headed to the backyard. From then on in, it was a war. Just like coach said.
You see, I never liked Coach Stevens. He always had the habit of crushing my dreams, and making me feel as hopeless as I possibly could. He never believed I had any true talent, and he never put me on the field in key situations. He always used to tell me, “Son, you’ve gotta work hard… it’s a war out there, and you’re un-armed.” Oh, is that so, Coach? Well, I’d like to think I’ve worked pretty damn hard in the off season, and that I’m fairly well armed these days. This war, this battlefield, you speak of Coach? I’m ready and willing to enter it. I just hope you are to.
I fired shots through the living room window, and I heard screams coming from his wife. I think I also heard a “What the f*ck!” from Coach himself. Ah, always so good and intellectual with you’re wording, Coach.
I heard more screaming, but I drowned that out by smashing everything I saw with a baseball bat. I gave Brittany the gun, and she fired more shots into the house. More screaming. More terror. More horrified shrieks. In other words, more fun.
That over-bearing sense of empowerment filled me once again. With every shot I took, with every smack of a bat, I was in control. The people inside that house, their very existence depended on every move I made. Of course, I had no intentions to kill either of them. I just wanted to scare the sh*t out of him. You know, “toughen him up” for the new football season.
We continued the assault, as I saw Coach look through the window. He saw me, looked into my eyes, and I shot him back one of the coldest, dead stares I had ever given. Of course, I eventually cracked a grin and waved. Even if I am a gun-wielding, bloodthirsty maniac, I still had manners.
Knowing that Coach had saw me, and that he knew it was me, made me feel a little more at rest. He’d surely be able to tell the cops it was me. The little scrawny kid who was never good enough for him, I was the one who rampaged his house and destroyed all of his precious belongings. He’d be able to tell them that the kid who was never good enough for him, suddenly had the courage to do everything he had always wanted. Be sure to tell them I smiled, Coach.
Brittany then handed me a box of matches, and I lit them. I threw them onto his backyard, and caught one of his trees. His backyard was now lit-up, like a beautiful violent Christmas scene. Coach’s wife had gone into the basement, while he was still standing in the kitchen, on the phone. Ooooh! I hope he’s calling 9-1-1. I love car chases.
Brittany and I decided it was time to head inside, so we smashed his back door with a rock and made our way in. I greeted Mr. Stevens with a “Hi, Coach!”, and yet another wave. Then I fired shots into the wall directly behind him. I turned around and fired shots all over his living room, through trophies and awards on top of his mantel. Then I spotted it.
The team picture, of our 2003 squad, that I was a part of. Yet, I wasn’t in the picture. The reason? Why, Coach told me the wrong date of the picture being taken, of course. Apparently he didn’t want Zack to “ruin” his pride and joy Bulls of 2003. Well, that’s a shame Coach, because it’s about to be ruined by him on a much larger scale.
I grabbed the portrait, while Coach stood starring at me dead-pale, while continually reminding me “the cops are coming”. I said, “That’s fantastic”, then lit the portrait on fire and placed on his couch. Boom! And just like that, my legacy grew. Coach’s house was about to be nothing more than a pile of ashes., courtesy of “Scrawny” Zack.
Looks like I finally came to a game prepared, Coach.
We headed downwards on the highway, and Brit rested her head on my shoulder while the wind blew at us at a rapid pace. I put my arm around her and drove with one hand, often swerving over to the side of the road. I didn’t really care, although a fiery car wreck is not exactly the way I had envisioned to go. I had to keep going, this was just too good to end already. We still had awhile to go.
I made a sharp right-hand turn onto a side street, now about 100 km’s outside of my hometown. I had a very crucial stop to make, as it was circled with a smiley face on my list. Brit had even drawn a special rabbit with a knife next to it, showing me exactly how important this stop was to the both of us. She’s quite the artist, as there was just a shade of red on the end of the knife too. God, I love her.
We pulled up to a fairly nice house. It looked like you’re average, run-of-the-mill, white-collar home. It even had a white picket fence. I mean, you just couldn’t help but look at it and say it was the normal house you’d see on a TV sitcom. The only thing is, I despise one of those things. No, not sitcoms. Normalcy. I despise it with every ounce of blood running through my veins, as it stands for everything I never had. Nor, will I ever have.
I parked the car, when I noticed something strange. There were people in the house. I had not expected this, for it’s a weekday, and Coach Stevens should be at school. It looks like his wife has stayed home too. That’s quite a shame, they’re about to wish they had gone to work, like “normal” people do.
Brit and I grabbed the essentials from the back seat. Two baseball bats, the gun, and more matches. I gave Brittany the signal, and we headed to the backyard. From then on in, it was a war. Just like coach said.
You see, I never liked Coach Stevens. He always had the habit of crushing my dreams, and making me feel as hopeless as I possibly could. He never believed I had any true talent, and he never put me on the field in key situations. He always used to tell me, “Son, you’ve gotta work hard… it’s a war out there, and you’re un-armed.” Oh, is that so, Coach? Well, I’d like to think I’ve worked pretty damn hard in the off season, and that I’m fairly well armed these days. This war, this battlefield, you speak of Coach? I’m ready and willing to enter it. I just hope you are to.
I fired shots through the living room window, and I heard screams coming from his wife. I think I also heard a “What the f*ck!” from Coach himself. Ah, always so good and intellectual with you’re wording, Coach.
I heard more screaming, but I drowned that out by smashing everything I saw with a baseball bat. I gave Brittany the gun, and she fired more shots into the house. More screaming. More terror. More horrified shrieks. In other words, more fun.
That over-bearing sense of empowerment filled me once again. With every shot I took, with every smack of a bat, I was in control. The people inside that house, their very existence depended on every move I made. Of course, I had no intentions to kill either of them. I just wanted to scare the sh*t out of him. You know, “toughen him up” for the new football season.
We continued the assault, as I saw Coach look through the window. He saw me, looked into my eyes, and I shot him back one of the coldest, dead stares I had ever given. Of course, I eventually cracked a grin and waved. Even if I am a gun-wielding, bloodthirsty maniac, I still had manners.
Knowing that Coach had saw me, and that he knew it was me, made me feel a little more at rest. He’d surely be able to tell the cops it was me. The little scrawny kid who was never good enough for him, I was the one who rampaged his house and destroyed all of his precious belongings. He’d be able to tell them that the kid who was never good enough for him, suddenly had the courage to do everything he had always wanted. Be sure to tell them I smiled, Coach.
Brittany then handed me a box of matches, and I lit them. I threw them onto his backyard, and caught one of his trees. His backyard was now lit-up, like a beautiful violent Christmas scene. Coach’s wife had gone into the basement, while he was still standing in the kitchen, on the phone. Ooooh! I hope he’s calling 9-1-1. I love car chases.
Brittany and I decided it was time to head inside, so we smashed his back door with a rock and made our way in. I greeted Mr. Stevens with a “Hi, Coach!”, and yet another wave. Then I fired shots into the wall directly behind him. I turned around and fired shots all over his living room, through trophies and awards on top of his mantel. Then I spotted it.
The team picture, of our 2003 squad, that I was a part of. Yet, I wasn’t in the picture. The reason? Why, Coach told me the wrong date of the picture being taken, of course. Apparently he didn’t want Zack to “ruin” his pride and joy Bulls of 2003. Well, that’s a shame Coach, because it’s about to be ruined by him on a much larger scale.
I grabbed the portrait, while Coach stood starring at me dead-pale, while continually reminding me “the cops are coming”. I said, “That’s fantastic”, then lit the portrait on fire and placed on his couch. Boom! And just like that, my legacy grew. Coach’s house was about to be nothing more than a pile of ashes., courtesy of “Scrawny” Zack.
Looks like I finally came to a game prepared, Coach.
Thursday, August 26, 2004
17 Things TDBID - Part 5
Brittany and I hit the road again, enjoying the night sky that my dad’s convertible let us experience. We had only just begun, but we were fairly certain we had already accomplished more in the last 12 hours then we had in our entire lives. We were feeling free, and living the dream. Perhaps we were living the nightmare, but to us, whatever it was, it was reality, and we loved it.
We could still faintly hear fire trucks in the background, and Brittany looked back at the billowing clouds of black smoke coming from the school. She turned around and sat back down, smiled at me, and simply said, “We did it”. Three little words, and it sent chills down my spine. Accomplishment. A feeling I had never experienced.
I picked up the speed a bit, as I didn’t want the cops to catch me. Well, yet. There was still a lot left to do… and the cops will have plenty of time to investigate. Still, I got a surge of energy and a very big rush knowing the fact they could be behind us at any instant. Especially considering the fact that since we left the school, I had held this feeling that someone was following us. I guess that feeling is kind of empowering to the extent it makes you want to go faster. Bring it on.
Brit was having an awful lot to drink in the passenger seat, and was starting to get a little crazy. I had never really seen her like this, considering she’s usually a very quiet, depressed, girl. It was very strange to see her standing up in a convertible, going 80 kph, and hearing her scream random swear words. It was also kind of a turn-on.
We finally made it to our next stop around 1 AM. Brit stumbled out of the car, so I grabbed her before she could fall. I had only had a bit to drink, so I wasn’t exactly at her level, but I dealt with it. I got the stuff out of the car and headed in. Of course, I paused for a few seconds before walking into the bank and looked straight up. What was I looking at? God? The sky? No, of course not. I was looking at my own personal God. It was the security camera, which I’ve lovingly become to call my “Legend Maker”. I guess it kind of is God when I think about it. It’s giving me all I’ve ever wanted… and the sky was the limit.
With Brit giggling in the background, I nervously approached the ATM machine. I had done a little bit of research on some criminal websites before we left, and I knew exactly how to get into it. I used my crowbar, like the tool of a professional, and strategically opened the side portion of the machine. Security alarms rang, meaning the cops would be here soon. I began to sweat, just a little bit. A little bit of fear was always good, no matter what the scenario.
Amazingly, the technique worked, I couldn’t believe it. I opened myself up to thousands of dollars… tens of thousands maybe. I only took a little bit though, it’s not like I was going to need this cash for much longer. I grabbed a bunch of bills, and headed out the door, covered in that god-awful security ink from the machine. Brittany thought that was hilarious, but I suppose she thinks anything is funny right now. We headed out to the car, where we saw red and blue flashes in the distance. It was time to flee.
We got away just in time, before any cops could catch the car or the licence plate. I had dumped all the money in the back seat, pretty much in plain view of the public. I didn’t really care.
I quickly turned the corner, before something caught my eye. It was a help institution, for the clinically depressed and other mental disorders and diseases. Brit was now passed-out in the front seat, so I had time stop. I pulled over, into a corner where no one could see me. I collected a large portion of the stolen money, and put it into neat piles. I taped the stacks together, and placed them into a bag, and marked the bag with “DONATION”. I crept out of the car and left the bag outside the front door.
Brit suddenly woke up and asked what was going on. I simply told her I had taken care of a little business, and that it was time to keep moving. She then asked me the pertinent question, “What about the graffiti? I wanna spray stuff.”
I had completely forgotten. One of the things Brit and I had wanted to do by the end of this night was leave a written message to the world, via the art of grafitti. Sure, my actions were fairly vivid images of what I thought of the world, but it was time to show it in words. Words; always my friend. Forever will be. After all, there is a reason you are reading them.
I took out the spray-paint cans from the backseat, and smiled at Brit. “Are you coming, babe?”
She was passed out. Again.
I took it upon myself to do it anyways. All over the sidewall of the Mental Disorders House. Whatever came to my mind, I expressed. I lit up the night sky with a colourful depiction of all my hatred. I let my mind loose, as my ego inflated once again. The sense of power overflowed through my body, the euphoria setting in. World, this is me. This is Zack. This is whom you’ve lost, but whom you’ll never forget.
I am it.
I am the one.
I am everything you ever wanted. Everything you were afraid to feel.
Live through me.
Love me, but don’t be me.
Learn from me, but don’t exceed me.
We could still faintly hear fire trucks in the background, and Brittany looked back at the billowing clouds of black smoke coming from the school. She turned around and sat back down, smiled at me, and simply said, “We did it”. Three little words, and it sent chills down my spine. Accomplishment. A feeling I had never experienced.
I picked up the speed a bit, as I didn’t want the cops to catch me. Well, yet. There was still a lot left to do… and the cops will have plenty of time to investigate. Still, I got a surge of energy and a very big rush knowing the fact they could be behind us at any instant. Especially considering the fact that since we left the school, I had held this feeling that someone was following us. I guess that feeling is kind of empowering to the extent it makes you want to go faster. Bring it on.
Brit was having an awful lot to drink in the passenger seat, and was starting to get a little crazy. I had never really seen her like this, considering she’s usually a very quiet, depressed, girl. It was very strange to see her standing up in a convertible, going 80 kph, and hearing her scream random swear words. It was also kind of a turn-on.
We finally made it to our next stop around 1 AM. Brit stumbled out of the car, so I grabbed her before she could fall. I had only had a bit to drink, so I wasn’t exactly at her level, but I dealt with it. I got the stuff out of the car and headed in. Of course, I paused for a few seconds before walking into the bank and looked straight up. What was I looking at? God? The sky? No, of course not. I was looking at my own personal God. It was the security camera, which I’ve lovingly become to call my “Legend Maker”. I guess it kind of is God when I think about it. It’s giving me all I’ve ever wanted… and the sky was the limit.
With Brit giggling in the background, I nervously approached the ATM machine. I had done a little bit of research on some criminal websites before we left, and I knew exactly how to get into it. I used my crowbar, like the tool of a professional, and strategically opened the side portion of the machine. Security alarms rang, meaning the cops would be here soon. I began to sweat, just a little bit. A little bit of fear was always good, no matter what the scenario.
Amazingly, the technique worked, I couldn’t believe it. I opened myself up to thousands of dollars… tens of thousands maybe. I only took a little bit though, it’s not like I was going to need this cash for much longer. I grabbed a bunch of bills, and headed out the door, covered in that god-awful security ink from the machine. Brittany thought that was hilarious, but I suppose she thinks anything is funny right now. We headed out to the car, where we saw red and blue flashes in the distance. It was time to flee.
We got away just in time, before any cops could catch the car or the licence plate. I had dumped all the money in the back seat, pretty much in plain view of the public. I didn’t really care.
I quickly turned the corner, before something caught my eye. It was a help institution, for the clinically depressed and other mental disorders and diseases. Brit was now passed-out in the front seat, so I had time stop. I pulled over, into a corner where no one could see me. I collected a large portion of the stolen money, and put it into neat piles. I taped the stacks together, and placed them into a bag, and marked the bag with “DONATION”. I crept out of the car and left the bag outside the front door.
Brit suddenly woke up and asked what was going on. I simply told her I had taken care of a little business, and that it was time to keep moving. She then asked me the pertinent question, “What about the graffiti? I wanna spray stuff.”
I had completely forgotten. One of the things Brit and I had wanted to do by the end of this night was leave a written message to the world, via the art of grafitti. Sure, my actions were fairly vivid images of what I thought of the world, but it was time to show it in words. Words; always my friend. Forever will be. After all, there is a reason you are reading them.
I took out the spray-paint cans from the backseat, and smiled at Brit. “Are you coming, babe?”
She was passed out. Again.
I took it upon myself to do it anyways. All over the sidewall of the Mental Disorders House. Whatever came to my mind, I expressed. I lit up the night sky with a colourful depiction of all my hatred. I let my mind loose, as my ego inflated once again. The sense of power overflowed through my body, the euphoria setting in. World, this is me. This is Zack. This is whom you’ve lost, but whom you’ll never forget.
I am it.
I am the one.
I am everything you ever wanted. Everything you were afraid to feel.
Live through me.
Love me, but don’t be me.
Learn from me, but don’t exceed me.
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Detective Work
alright .. who here has seen Office Space? *raises hand* .. you know the song that "Michael Bolton" sings at the beginning of the movie in his car? Well for a very long time I couldn't figure out what song it was .. but thanks to some detective work .. The Randski has figured it out!
No Tears - Scarface
Now the funeral is sober,
And all the tears are dried up,
Niggas hangin deep at the club gettin fired up,
Lookin for the nigga who pulled a pistol on my homie,
An eye for an eye now your life is what you owe me
Look deep into the eyes of your mother fuckin killer,
I want you to witness your mother fuckin murder nigga
And since you want to kill then your ass is gots to fry
But since there aint no police therefore your ass has gots to die
We play the game for keeps
And if you slip I guess you sleep
You shoutin out 'fuck it' now your ass is six feet deep
Cause where i come from everyone has got a gat
And niggas try your ass to see where you got your heart at
And if your seat is flimsy then your ass is gonna bend
And like i said before therell be no tears in the end
Im rollin thru your hood and now my heart is full of anger
Your at your sister's house now ur sister's life's in danger
With the kegger
Niggas wanna bang ya
And hang ya
Stang ya with one up in the chain
Lets take a trip up Hollywood
See how many niggas in my hood
Is down the time of day
We standin up for our own shit
And if you outside the clique then you die bitch
It aint no love in this mother fucker
It aint no love for yourself or your other brother
Because we real with this shit so we stay true
And since we bang then we do what OG say do
Ive got the mind of the man in the mirror
So im lookin at me vaguely
But i cant see nothin famely
Ive got my pistol point cocked
Ready ta pop shots non stop until i see your monkey ass drop
And let your homies know who done it
Cause when it comes to this gangsta shit you mother fuckers know who run it
So when you put this mother fucker to the test
You have to realize somethin nigga your fuckin with the very best
Ive got this killer up inside of me
I cant talk to my mother so i talk to my diary
I goin off on the deep end
I find my self face to face with my self while im sleeping
I see your picture in my head and my hands shake
You can run you can hide but there's no escape
My inner feelings show no mercy on my enemy
I got to get this mother fucker before he gets to me
So in your own blood youll bathe
I wont stop until I put this mother fucker in his fuckin grave
And i can say this once again
You can cry but youll still die there'll be no tears in the end.
The part in bold is what he sings in the movie .. what a relief though, now I can know the lyrics to the greatest song ever.
No Tears - Scarface
Now the funeral is sober,
And all the tears are dried up,
Niggas hangin deep at the club gettin fired up,
Lookin for the nigga who pulled a pistol on my homie,
An eye for an eye now your life is what you owe me
Look deep into the eyes of your mother fuckin killer,
I want you to witness your mother fuckin murder nigga
And since you want to kill then your ass is gots to fry
But since there aint no police therefore your ass has gots to die
We play the game for keeps
And if you slip I guess you sleep
You shoutin out 'fuck it' now your ass is six feet deep
Cause where i come from everyone has got a gat
And niggas try your ass to see where you got your heart at
And if your seat is flimsy then your ass is gonna bend
And like i said before therell be no tears in the end
Im rollin thru your hood and now my heart is full of anger
Your at your sister's house now ur sister's life's in danger
With the kegger
Niggas wanna bang ya
And hang ya
Stang ya with one up in the chain
Lets take a trip up Hollywood
See how many niggas in my hood
Is down the time of day
We standin up for our own shit
And if you outside the clique then you die bitch
It aint no love in this mother fucker
It aint no love for yourself or your other brother
Because we real with this shit so we stay true
And since we bang then we do what OG say do
Ive got the mind of the man in the mirror
So im lookin at me vaguely
But i cant see nothin famely
Ive got my pistol point cocked
Ready ta pop shots non stop until i see your monkey ass drop
And let your homies know who done it
Cause when it comes to this gangsta shit you mother fuckers know who run it
So when you put this mother fucker to the test
You have to realize somethin nigga your fuckin with the very best
Ive got this killer up inside of me
I cant talk to my mother so i talk to my diary
I goin off on the deep end
I find my self face to face with my self while im sleeping
I see your picture in my head and my hands shake
You can run you can hide but there's no escape
My inner feelings show no mercy on my enemy
I got to get this mother fucker before he gets to me
So in your own blood youll bathe
I wont stop until I put this mother fucker in his fuckin grave
And i can say this once again
You can cry but youll still die there'll be no tears in the end.
The part in bold is what he sings in the movie .. what a relief though, now I can know the lyrics to the greatest song ever.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
17 Things - Part 4
F*ck West Laurier High. Any time we ever got close to a championship, they’d beat us in the playoffs. It’s not that I’m a sore loser, it’s just that they’re the biggest bunch of assholes to ever step foot on a football field. Spitting, picking on the shortest kids on our team, illegal hits, paying off the ref… everything you can think of, these guys have done it. You could say that the players, the coaches, the teachers and the students of West Laurier have single-handedly shattered my dreams, ‘caused severe depression, and sent my life into an unstoppable whirlwind. Thanks for lighting the fuse, boys.
Brittany agreed we had to leave them a little gift before we headed down to Niagara. We decided West Laurier High would be the first visit on our little road trip. We hit the road, riding in my dad’s stolen Lexus, and turned up the music as loud as possible. I smiled at Brit, she smiled at me. Hey, it may have taken an inhuman rampage of immoral acts to do it, but we were really connecting as a couple.
We hit a red light, and again I turned to Brit. This time, it wasn’t a smile that caught my eye; it was what Brit was doing with her shirt. She lifted it over her head and threw it to the near-by sidewalk, leaving her in one the sexiest looking tank-tops I had ever seen. She turned to me, and put her hands around my neck. Then, she looked into my eyes, and went for it. Now, Brit and I had kissed before, but never like this. It went on for a good 30 seconds, and I was at a lost to the things around me. It was official; I was definitely going out in style.
It eventually took some car-horns behind me to remind me that the light had turned to green. Being the abiding citizen I am, I sped through the intersection way above the speed limit, and then flipped off the guy behind me.
Before long, we arrived at West Laurier. It was a rich, preppy school and that just pissed me off. I was originally suppose to go here when we moved into the neighbourhood three years ago, and it took a hell of a lot of complaining to my mom before my dad okay-ed me to go to Newberry High. I did not want to be a “rich kid”, I just wanted to be a normal kid. I guess I still got screwed over in the end, but at least I tried.
We pulled up in the parking lot, and there were only two other cars there. Must be janitors, we figured, as it was close to 6:30 p.m when we got there. Somehow, we were gonna have to by-pass them when we got there. Wait a second, they’re janitors… we’ll just bring them some liquor and they’ll be happy.
When we got in (carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels), there was no one to be found. For some reason, the door was unlocked, and we just walked right in. There’s was probably security cameras watching us, so that’s a plus. My face was going to be everywhere, and I liked it. I liked it a lot. Almost too much, perhaps.
We walked around, and I caught sight of the trophy case in the hallway. Brit looked at me with a look of concern I had never seen before, but I just told her that it was ok, and I walked forward. I looked at all the trophies, all the medals, all the photos, all the happiness, and I despised every bit of it. Everything contained in that trophy case was my dream, and now I stared at it as a nightmare. What I wanted, I could never have, and it was all behind this glass case. I stared at it, and let all the anger fill in. Brit came and put her arms around me, and I held her back. I don’t think that she realizes why the “football stuff” (as she calls it) bothers me so much, but she does know that it has a profound effect on my heart and my mind. I continued to stare, until I had had enough. I took a deep breath and kept walking, liquor in hand.
I slowly opened the door to the gymnasium, and looked around in awe. It was the biggest, most phenomenal thing I had ever seen. I know I didn’t want to be the stereotypical rich-kid, but it sure looked as though it had it’s advantages. It was an incredible sight, and the more incredible it became, the more my blood boiled. This was the place that housed the people that had taken our championships. The honeymoon was over, I had to rid this town of this place.
I took the liquor and poured it all over the place… all over the equipment, the trophies, the banners, the photos, everything. To top it off, I threw the glass bottle right at one of the trophy cases and shattered it. It broke open just enough for me to be able to reach in and grab a trophy. Well, not just a trophy. My trophy.
I told Brit to head to the car, just to be safe. I took another deep breath and looked around one last time. My ego inflated, my anger increased, and my hands shook. I took the book of matches out of my back-pocket and lit the entire pack. I whispered “F*ck you, WLH”, and tossed the book across the gym.
With that, my dream and my nightmare had been taken care of in one swift motion. The one place that I despised the most was set ablaze, and the flames engulfed all of my inhibitions. Call it a freedom fire.
As Brit and I left the scene, she kissed me once more as the sweet serenade of a fire truck siren filled the evening sky.
Brittany agreed we had to leave them a little gift before we headed down to Niagara. We decided West Laurier High would be the first visit on our little road trip. We hit the road, riding in my dad’s stolen Lexus, and turned up the music as loud as possible. I smiled at Brit, she smiled at me. Hey, it may have taken an inhuman rampage of immoral acts to do it, but we were really connecting as a couple.
We hit a red light, and again I turned to Brit. This time, it wasn’t a smile that caught my eye; it was what Brit was doing with her shirt. She lifted it over her head and threw it to the near-by sidewalk, leaving her in one the sexiest looking tank-tops I had ever seen. She turned to me, and put her hands around my neck. Then, she looked into my eyes, and went for it. Now, Brit and I had kissed before, but never like this. It went on for a good 30 seconds, and I was at a lost to the things around me. It was official; I was definitely going out in style.
It eventually took some car-horns behind me to remind me that the light had turned to green. Being the abiding citizen I am, I sped through the intersection way above the speed limit, and then flipped off the guy behind me.
Before long, we arrived at West Laurier. It was a rich, preppy school and that just pissed me off. I was originally suppose to go here when we moved into the neighbourhood three years ago, and it took a hell of a lot of complaining to my mom before my dad okay-ed me to go to Newberry High. I did not want to be a “rich kid”, I just wanted to be a normal kid. I guess I still got screwed over in the end, but at least I tried.
We pulled up in the parking lot, and there were only two other cars there. Must be janitors, we figured, as it was close to 6:30 p.m when we got there. Somehow, we were gonna have to by-pass them when we got there. Wait a second, they’re janitors… we’ll just bring them some liquor and they’ll be happy.
When we got in (carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels), there was no one to be found. For some reason, the door was unlocked, and we just walked right in. There’s was probably security cameras watching us, so that’s a plus. My face was going to be everywhere, and I liked it. I liked it a lot. Almost too much, perhaps.
We walked around, and I caught sight of the trophy case in the hallway. Brit looked at me with a look of concern I had never seen before, but I just told her that it was ok, and I walked forward. I looked at all the trophies, all the medals, all the photos, all the happiness, and I despised every bit of it. Everything contained in that trophy case was my dream, and now I stared at it as a nightmare. What I wanted, I could never have, and it was all behind this glass case. I stared at it, and let all the anger fill in. Brit came and put her arms around me, and I held her back. I don’t think that she realizes why the “football stuff” (as she calls it) bothers me so much, but she does know that it has a profound effect on my heart and my mind. I continued to stare, until I had had enough. I took a deep breath and kept walking, liquor in hand.
I slowly opened the door to the gymnasium, and looked around in awe. It was the biggest, most phenomenal thing I had ever seen. I know I didn’t want to be the stereotypical rich-kid, but it sure looked as though it had it’s advantages. It was an incredible sight, and the more incredible it became, the more my blood boiled. This was the place that housed the people that had taken our championships. The honeymoon was over, I had to rid this town of this place.
I took the liquor and poured it all over the place… all over the equipment, the trophies, the banners, the photos, everything. To top it off, I threw the glass bottle right at one of the trophy cases and shattered it. It broke open just enough for me to be able to reach in and grab a trophy. Well, not just a trophy. My trophy.
I told Brit to head to the car, just to be safe. I took another deep breath and looked around one last time. My ego inflated, my anger increased, and my hands shook. I took the book of matches out of my back-pocket and lit the entire pack. I whispered “F*ck you, WLH”, and tossed the book across the gym.
With that, my dream and my nightmare had been taken care of in one swift motion. The one place that I despised the most was set ablaze, and the flames engulfed all of my inhibitions. Call it a freedom fire.
As Brit and I left the scene, she kissed me once more as the sweet serenade of a fire truck siren filled the evening sky.
Monday, August 16, 2004
The Return Of The Randski: Anything & Everything
Well, this is my first post on the blog in quite some time, and since I kind of want to talk about everything i'm just going to talk about anything & everything in this so get ready for the read and hopefully some laughs.
CHEAP PLUG!!!!!!!: WRITERSREVOLUTION SURVIVOR! Come on people, it's gunna be awesome ... email me (randy_mcnally@hotmail.com) or Dave (dscarrow05@hotmail.com) and tell us YOU want to be the WR Survivor!
- Me and Dave went to Toronto on Sunday to go to SummerSlam ... I must say it was pure awesomeness. We headed to Toronto around 11:30 and got to the train around 12:30 and arrived in Toronto around 1 o'clock. We walked around for a while and then went over to the tailgate party which was kind of lame. So we all headed over to Casey's for dinner. I got the Buffalo BBQ Wings with Ceaser Salad. Let's just say out of 10, this meal was a 15. I'm a huge salad mark and this salad was unbelieveable. We went to SummerSlam and had awesome seats! Everything was just amazing and to top it off ... RANDY ORTON WON THE WORLD TITLE!!! Best night ever.
- Wasn't invited to Mr. Ed's birthday party this weekend. Nay Nay Nay ... for those of us who don't speak horse it means "Fuck You Horse."
- McCormick is back from Florida .. good to see him back in town and good to see he still can't catch a football lol
- Went to the mall today with The Triad. Picked me up the Kanye West c.d. .. it certainly does reek of awesomeness I must say. Props to Kanye for putting out a wicked disc.
"Je-sus Walks" ... sorry, i'll stop singing and get back to business.
- So as you all heard I've been working on some scripts and a story of my own. Dave's 17 Things has sky rocketed to the top of the billboard charts for "Blogger Stories" currently sitting #2. Nobody knows what #1 is at the moment but im trying to work on that and find out the answer for all the blogging fans out their.
- This just in, Mr. Ed DID have 17 candles on it's stack of hay. Good for it.
- Thanks to everyone who supported Team Canada diving. They brought home Canada's first medal of this summers olympics today by taking the Bronze Medal in 10m synchronized diving. In other olympic news, Team Canada horse Mr. Ed was unable to pick up a medal and finished dead last.
- World Cup of Hockey is in a couple weeks. LETS GO CANADA! .. We have the best team in the world cup, if we don't win I will be very pissed off and in a bad mood when school starts. Speaking of school starting .. FUCK!
- Boston Red Sox beat the Toronto Crapjays tonight 8-4 ... WOO for the Bo-Sox ... Randy guarantees a Boston playoff birth in the wildcard this year.
- NFL is just around the corner. LETS GO FUCKING BILLS! DONT FUCKING SUCK THIS YEAR! ... at least we don't play Kansas City again this year, that way they can't beat Buffalo and Dave can't rub it in *shakes fist* Damn you and your team getting good.
Thats all for this post. But remember .. JOIN THE WR SURVIVOR! You have been edge-u-cated.
Randy
CHEAP PLUG!!!!!!!: WRITERSREVOLUTION SURVIVOR! Come on people, it's gunna be awesome ... email me (randy_mcnally@hotmail.com) or Dave (dscarrow05@hotmail.com) and tell us YOU want to be the WR Survivor!
- Me and Dave went to Toronto on Sunday to go to SummerSlam ... I must say it was pure awesomeness. We headed to Toronto around 11:30 and got to the train around 12:30 and arrived in Toronto around 1 o'clock. We walked around for a while and then went over to the tailgate party which was kind of lame. So we all headed over to Casey's for dinner. I got the Buffalo BBQ Wings with Ceaser Salad. Let's just say out of 10, this meal was a 15. I'm a huge salad mark and this salad was unbelieveable. We went to SummerSlam and had awesome seats! Everything was just amazing and to top it off ... RANDY ORTON WON THE WORLD TITLE!!! Best night ever.
- Wasn't invited to Mr. Ed's birthday party this weekend. Nay Nay Nay ... for those of us who don't speak horse it means "Fuck You Horse."
- McCormick is back from Florida .. good to see him back in town and good to see he still can't catch a football lol
- Went to the mall today with The Triad. Picked me up the Kanye West c.d. .. it certainly does reek of awesomeness I must say. Props to Kanye for putting out a wicked disc.
"Je-sus Walks" ... sorry, i'll stop singing and get back to business.
- So as you all heard I've been working on some scripts and a story of my own. Dave's 17 Things has sky rocketed to the top of the billboard charts for "Blogger Stories" currently sitting #2. Nobody knows what #1 is at the moment but im trying to work on that and find out the answer for all the blogging fans out their.
- This just in, Mr. Ed DID have 17 candles on it's stack of hay. Good for it.
- Thanks to everyone who supported Team Canada diving. They brought home Canada's first medal of this summers olympics today by taking the Bronze Medal in 10m synchronized diving. In other olympic news, Team Canada horse Mr. Ed was unable to pick up a medal and finished dead last.
- World Cup of Hockey is in a couple weeks. LETS GO CANADA! .. We have the best team in the world cup, if we don't win I will be very pissed off and in a bad mood when school starts. Speaking of school starting .. FUCK!
- Boston Red Sox beat the Toronto Crapjays tonight 8-4 ... WOO for the Bo-Sox ... Randy guarantees a Boston playoff birth in the wildcard this year.
- NFL is just around the corner. LETS GO FUCKING BILLS! DONT FUCKING SUCK THIS YEAR! ... at least we don't play Kansas City again this year, that way they can't beat Buffalo and Dave can't rub it in *shakes fist* Damn you and your team getting good.
Thats all for this post. But remember .. JOIN THE WR SURVIVOR! You have been edge-u-cated.
Randy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)