canadian bacon

to the torontonian tribunal of trustees

thank you for 26 years of good luck. i managed not to get myself killed, and you are to thank.

to the special few who will ever read this, let me update you on my life

I'm moving to Halifax. The crazies at Dalhousie let me in! So I'm taking me, the kids, and my furniture to a pink house I've located in the heart of the city of Halifax. Its fucking beautiful.

The government rules! You know something? It's really easy to be anti-government. It's the easiest thing in the world, in fact. But it's pretty hard not to love the government when they give you free money! That's right folks, all you need to do is risk throwing yourself into a $50,000 deep hole and the government is all up in your business giving you cash they don't expect back.

Cottage Country Cleans Souls To my saddest readers who have not ventured north of the city once this sweltering summer, I give you no pity. You surely must hate yourself if you would force yourself to stay in this sun basket of a city. Swimming in a lake is the second best thing I've done this summer.

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Moving away is a very surreal thing. I'm thrilled and scared about it. I am jack's highest high's and lowest lows.

Not to sound too dramatic at all, but there's a tremendous part of me that feels like I've been dead for a while, that I died when I got my acceptance letter, and I've been living in Limboland, waiting to leave Toronto. Waiting for the move to resuscitate me, for the atlantic to breath some fresh air into these toxic lungs.

I planned to be a caretaker to my life, to nurse the damaged past, and to leave nothing undone. I embodied my own lack of forward progress as I busied myself with things that had been and gone. I sought to start nothing new.

It's these inspired moments that dawn some light on exactly how little I know about the Universe and her ways, and how foolishly I pursue obviously fruitless endeavors.

...but I always snap out of it.

Let the loose ends dangle and forget the past, we all have one, and chances are some of it sucks.

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To the late arrival, you know who you are. I didn't expect you but you brought me that life I thought the atlantic would. I'll miss you when I'm gone.