13 February 2019
29 January 2019
27 January 2019
Spent the day working in the Jagmeet Singh campaign on Saturday. An hour drive to get there. Four hours of work. Another hour back to my home in the sticks. If I lived in fucking Kamloops I would have made it in to Burnaby for the day. How often does a motherfucker get to help out the leader of the NDP?
I was teamed up with someone from Richmond to go do a little door knocking. Chinese. Cute. Union. Made it to the campaign office on the fucking train.
Once we parked in the neighbourhood we were assigned I pulled the joint out of my pocket I had rolled for the occasion. “I never smoke that before!” she admitted.
“I can smoke the whole fucking thing myself I guess. But if we smoke it together we’ll have ourselves one fuck of a good time with the people of Burnaby.”
“Maybe I just smoke a little and you let me take the marks,” she suggested. She did just that. Relaxed her a little, like good cannabis should.
Neighbourhood was solidly for our candidate. People from all over our fucked up planet too. In time we were invited into a women’s place for tea. She was a cancer patient. Braver than fuck. Full of the stories only people who spent too much time in hospital and survived can tell you. Woman, like so many of us, was just fucking hanging on. And she said this as we were about to go, “The last thing I would do with what might be my last vote on this planet is give it to those scumbag Liberals!”
14 January 2019
29 December 2018
Only saw James Wilsey the once. Janus Theatre, Kitsilano. There are a couple rock shows I think of as being better but they probably were not. The only time I saw the fucking Avengers. No light show or any of that other hippie shit. Maximum rock ‘n’ roll. Fucking near put me in the grave that night did.
Well, James is gone now. Happy I have stayed in touch with Penelope Houston or I would not even know it. Getting to be there are more people on the wrong side of grave than the right. Nothing left to do but keep on rocking. You did some good fucking work James. I sure appreciated it.
23 November 2018
17 November 2018
I like Christmas as much or more as the next motherfucker. Too bad I cannot leave the fucking house without being Christmas fucking caroled to fucking death from now until fat fuck Mary sings. Like Christmas so much, in fact, I will share a Christmas story with you.
While cleaning out my office today I came across something that plain screamed Christmas: an old Christmas card. Made by UNICEF it is. Does not get more holly motherfucking jolly Christmas than that now does it? Card is undated but I reckon it must be a good three decades old as it is not made out of recycled shit paper. From someone I corresponded with while they were imprisoned in one of those foreign countries some think a fucking wall will keep our women, children and beasts of burden from being gang raped on a near daily basis.
Being no slouch, you will have noticed the righteous as fuck jersey on the front cover. [A Montreal Canadiens’ jersey worn by a boy playing hockey in the street with his friends.] Take a good fucking look at it. In June it will be drenched in champagne and the opposition’s blood.
I’ve got a new and improved TV. That means more channels, including MTV Brazil and ESPN. And that means hockey one night per week and, better yet, almost never the fucking Canucks!
Thanks for all the mail. They even let the Anarchist shit you send in to me. My fellow prisoners have me translate that shit into Portuguese.
Merry Fucking Christmas and Happy Fucking New Year.
The message within the card is a simple one. Peace, joy and friendship. Something I wish to you all. The prisoner who sent the card to me has been free for quite some time now. Could be they are your next door neighbour for all you know. Brazil, however, having elected themselves a fascist remains in chains and ready to explode.