Category Archives: music

Dear Santa

All I want for Christmas is an Epson Stylus printer
an Epson Stylus printer
an Epson Stylus printer

All I want for Christmas is an *Epson Stylus printer
soooooo I can make prints of my work to sell for cheaperrrrrrrrr.


*Preferably a wide format Epson Stylus Pro printer that uses only archival quality inks with the ability to print on canvas along with paper and card stock. Got that Santa?

add to :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

The Jimmy Swift Band

I saw these guys perform live in Halifax at the Opera House in 2002 or was it 2001… and in Vancouver later…
…those years are a bit blurry.

The Jimmy Swift Band is coming to the Akhord (down on Water Street) in Saint John, New Brunswick on December 08/07. I’ll be there with bell’s on. Well, maybe a hula hoop or two.

Note to self: BOOK the time off work as you deserve to go out and have fun as you have been working your ass off.

Happy Birthday Stephen – poem or lyrics

Today is my Brother Stephen’s 31st Birthday. Happy Birthday Stephen! I love you little brother.

There was a time when I was bigger than you.
That time wained in our teens
when you sprouted those inches
and to this day, remain bigger than me.

You loved me unconditionally —– little brother—.
You stood up
for me when things got tuff
with my ex’s or —– outta hand.
You helped me during those rough times an’ in my teens and twenties.

And now today you are 31 little brother
and I your big sister couldn’t be more proud of you
for going after your dreams
and always living life to it’s fullest.

You made me both laugh and scream with your childhood antics,
yet through it all we remained friends and siblings, forever ecstatic!

You were fascinated with fire,
with wood and all things creepy crawly.
I remember joining you
roaming these woods
in search of bull frogs and grass snakes
baiting lines with minnows
and cooking mud cakes!

We raced your dinky cars down the stairs
through the front hallway
then kitchen,
onwards and downwards
they flew off
their shiny blue
and yellow lined track.

I remember the day I moved away
leaving for college
you drove me to the corner store
to pick up some smokes.
A song on the radio I loved
began to play.

We continued driving in silence
while the song played out,
even though I had said “oh lets go home”.
You replied “You love this song.”
and continued cruising
through the old neighborhood.

I wish I could have been nicer,
taking back all the yelling and sarcastic remarks.

Really though,
today little brother
you are as dear to me now as you were back then.

Love Jessica.
PS – Hope we get to play in the sand this summer, whether it be here in Wild West or there, Back East.

The musical choice of the evening was Hip Hop

As many times as the days pass is how many times have I wanted to write…

Gastown Graffiti in 2003 - photo credit - EastVanEsica

…last Friday evening I went dancing at a club in Gastown, Vancouver. A few things struck me about how this particular club operated. The Bouncer/Doorman, was accepting bribes to get in the door. We all payed him some money to get in the door. We all had thought this was our cover. This was not the case. The woman under the stairs asked us for the cover money. We refused. We turned walking upstairs proceeding to speak to the doorman who originally took our money.

He gave some of us our money back and we took our place standing in line waiting again. During the half hour wait I witnessed more money handed to that Doorman and drugs exchanged with him to proceed ahead of the line. This man during an evening is surely earning more than $500 an hour.

Money is power. Drugs are power.

Secondly all of the bouncers were clad in bullet proof vests. None of the waitress’s were dawning the hard black plastic attire nor were the bartender’s. A person standing next to me proceeds telling tales of how many people have been shot in this club. WTF! Seriously, why is this club that is so wealthy in bribe and drug, not outfitting all the drunken cokeheads in bullet proof vests upon entering the premises, not unlike bowlers renting shoes in a bowling alley. Ha.
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We are all just a bunch of talking heads 18plusssss – seriously

We are all just a bunch of talking heads.

Once a talking head began to write:

Wait, wait for the moment to come
Stand up, stand up and take my hand
Believe, believe in mystery
Love love love love is simple as 1-2-3

I’m a know-it-all, I’m smartest man around
That’s right, you learn real fast through the smartest girl in town
Here come a riddle, here come a clue
If you were really smart, you’d know what to do

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