Why is it that the speedometer on my car goes so high? The speed limit in Canada doesn't go any higher than 110 km/hr, and yet 110 km/hr is the center point of my speedometer. This means that half of the reachable speeds I assume my car could sputter to are completely illegal! But alas! My car cannot reach all those speeds! For you see, once I reach a certain speed, the "governor" kicks in an says "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! no more! You've broken the law enough mister! I will not let you SUPER break the law! That's where I draw the line!" At this point Im left with my foot hammered to the ground, longingly peering at the 150 to 200 km/hr portion of my meter that my car will never achieve, even if it is falling.
Now this may seem like a frivolous observation, but as it is the law...I feel I am forced to use this crude analogy to get severity of the situation into perspective.

IF...and it's not a big if...my automobile were a television set, and each obtainable kilometer per hour increment was designated as a channel I received on my Ultra Cable package, then my channel surfing experience would go something like this:

Every channel up to 110 is perfectly legit. Some channels aren't appropriate where children are playing, and some channels are legal but still unsafe for the elderly (at which point the elderly should be watching TV at all, it isn't safe for anyone). Everything passed 110 is the craziest crap you've ever seen. My New Yorker lets me watch channels up to 150,which comprises of live public executions, hardcore pornography involving animals, and infomercials for products like nuclear weapons and guns that shoot cocaine. After 150, Arnold Swartzeneger comes on screen and yells "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! no more! You've watched enough heinous smut! I will not let you SUPER break the law!". He is of course referring to what we call ULTRA porn. Ultra porn is a lot like regular porn, only it ALWAYS involves endangered species, no one is allowed to NOT have an electric sword, and if you aren't swearing every word you speak, you must be explaining to the audience how they should spend their child's college fund on a car (covered in dead puppies stuffed with heroin) that goes over 110 kilometers an hour. If you want access to Ultra porn, you have to bribe the governor, but even then if the cops catch you there is nothing stopping them from throwing you in an Ultra prison(very similar to Ultra porn).

So in conclusion...even though speeding is fun, it isn't wholesome and will probably get you in a heap of trouble if your mom or wife catch you doing it.

There is a song I once heard in a movie that I cant remember anything about. I think is was in a commercial or two as well, but can't remember what for. It was an electronic piece, with synthesizers and a strong presence of strings. When I play the song in my head, I picture a man standing in the street looking at the sky as the camera spins around him. Years back I remember whistling the song to a friend of mine who knew it immediately and pulled out the cd and played it. To this day I curse myself for not remembering what the hell it was called or who composed it. To this day the song haunts me. At least once a week it plays in my head, and from time to time I whistle or hum it to my friends in hope that they can tell me what it is like my other friend did before. But everyone looks at me like Im daft.

So with that I have decided that Im going to hunt down that old friend of mine, and if he can tell me what that song is Im actually afraid that Im going to collapse at his knees and fill my hands with tears of joy because Ill be damned if that freaking awesome song hasn't tortured for nearly 10 years. Damn that song for being so rad....damn it straight to hell. Imagine not remembering what your favorite food is called, or whats in it. Its like that. And worse off, I know when I find it and play it for everyone I know and say "dude, this is it!" they are going to look at me and say "Uh, yeah. thats called a hamburger. Its everyones favorite food you idiot."

damn I hate good music

It s weird knowign that when I die, the only thing left of me , besides the memories of those who knew me, will be my art. The only thing that some guy in France will know me for ismy obsesion with animal hybrids and cheap use of photoshop effects. A young girl in Japan will stumble upon my work when looking for something to take her mind off of school and will know me as white guy whos pictures are not funny, so she will assuemethe words arent either. And in the year 2094, a robot will malfunction after trying to spelll check the entire internet after trying to make sense of anythign Ive done. I will be remembered as just some guy who did some stuff and didnt do a good enough job to earn enough money to do anything amazing like build an ironic penguin shaped rocket that doesnt fly.

But at least Ill be remembered

Well, I just started the second semester of my second year at school (Grant Macewan College). I just submited a few of the doo dads we did last year and a bit of something I slapped together for $#!ts and giggles. If you dont lke any of it....I blame my friend Ben. He's and ass and makes my work look bad. I had to buy 2 metric tonnes of magical pig fat to ward off his evil crap rays...it only lasted so long though. God I hate curses....the cures are super expensive and arent covered under any healthcare. Isnt that weird..curse and cures use the same letters. Unless I spelled them wrong....dammit Ben. Damn you to hell.

SOUP!

This isnt very arty, but has anyone ever wonder why it is that we have artificial flavours, and we can eat endangered species, but we dont have artificial flavours for endangered species. I want panda soup damnit. I want spotted owl seasoning for my popcorn, humpback whale potato chips, and if possible anything that bears an incling of resemblance to a bengal tiger. Hell, they have tofurkey, why no tofuman, or tofeople. Who cares if we can artificially replicate the flavour of a cow or a shrimp. EXPAND PEOPLE! I only have a few decades on this planet, and I dont want to die knowing I never found out how much an emperor penguin tastes like chicken.

Now to find someone whos eaten penguin...