This site was started to document the exciting cultural whirlwind of my existence, forgoing details of my increasingly ridiculous sex life and variably naughty social life. I don't know how well I've kept to that, but have I got a cultural experience for you now.

Last night I worked at a local bingo hall to fundraise for my mum's symphony orchestra. This is a fucking pitfall for us children when we visit home - bloody fucking bingos. Selling tickets to people who can't afford them, dealing with weird Troll-y talisman-y finger-cross-y superstition, walking the fucking floor for HOURS waiting for people to break the silence by screaming out 'bingo!', and yelling confirmation numbers to the fucking mentalist bingo caller. Fuck, it sucks! The thing is the profits the symphony reaps from running bingos are huge, so they really have no choice but to do it, but nobody bloody wants to volunteer for it because it's motherfucking purgatorial, man. However, we all love our mum and our mum loves the symphony, so we do it. And it fucking sucks, fuck. THESE PEOPLE BLOW A FUCKING C-NOTE A NIGHT ON FUCKING BINGO CARDS. And think they're playing the odds, or something, and aren't even all that happy when they win because they just think of it as an overdue pay-off on an investment. Faaaaaack. If they spent the money they spend on bingo on drugs they'd be fucked up 24/7. I mean they could be carrying off a really great coke habit. And they're 75% franco-ontarien. What the fuck is bingo's fucking proportionately higher fascination for the franco-ontarien community about? That's some fucked up shit, man.

Anyways, there's talk the local reserve is going to put up a casino so that will shut the bingo right down. And if the casino is on the reserve it doesn't have to profit-share with local charities and non-profits, so that will probably shut down the orchestra and lots of other local groups unless they find another way to bring in the money or the government starts coughing funds up in a smarter way. That really sucks, even though it means I won't have to work at one of these fuckers again. But what really sucks is how fucking dumb people are. I know I have the fiscal discipline of a grasshopper so I shouldn't talk, but why in the name of sweet suffering fuck people sink their money into slots and motherfucking bingos is beyond me.

Back to the city, back to reality, in a couple hours. Thank goodness. Everything and everyone moves too slowly here. I have had a wonderful Christmas because of my fantastic family and the Bs, Cs, and Turtle Soup being in town, but this place gives me, what the fuck is that thing tigers in captivity get? Cage fatigue? Stir craziness? All I know is, I NEED TO SMOKE ME SOME FUCKING REEFER AND GO TO A MUSIC STORE. Fack.