After something akin to a late-evening power nap, I heard rain and decided Patrick D Ryall had to go for a walk downtown, since that’s something he generally doesn’t do any more.

While I was there I was approached by members of a metal band with the respectable name of Knifehammer. Apparently they are playing a show tonight and handing out t-shirts in preparation of this. They told me where the show was and handed me a shirt. It was all cool. Then I went into Shoppers, bought a chocolate milk and forgot where they were playing.

I probably wouldn’t have gone anyway, what with being a reclusive loser, but it can’t be a good thing that I can forget that quickly.

But thanks to them, wherever they are, for coming all the way from Ontario exclusively to give PDR a t-shirt.

The ringtone for my cellular telephone is “I Wanna Be Sedated”. I play music on my computer while I sleep. Last night I woke up enough to realize I was hearing “I Wanna Be Sedated”, but it was my computer, not my phone. Confused the ‘eck outta me at the time.

Haiku!

Mirror Universe.
Here evil people are good.
It’s a nice planet.

At least once a week I turn into a Werefish. At least I assume I do. Probably it happens when I’m not paying attention. I have nothing to prove otherwise.

Ah, that’s it. Screw the whole thing.

Now’s as good a time as any for a poem:

Sandwiches, O Sandwiches

Bread, this bread, that lies upon my plate.
This bread is part a sandwich which I will soon have ate.
Mayo, yes mayo, meaning mayonnaise.
The mayo covers the bread, I’ve been planning this for days.
Lettuce lies on the mayo, Lettuce yes indeed.
Grown on a farm, I must assume, from a Lettuce Seed.
On lettuce lies the bacon. Bacon lies right there.
To call it anything but bacon would simply be unfair.
Tomato, Tomato, Tomato.
Tomato smothers the bacon only because I say so.
Mayo again. Mayo. Mayonnaise as before.
Above tomato come mayonnaise once more.
Bread, more bread, tops the whole .
This second slice of bread makes my senses ring.
Sandwiches O Sandwiches, a superior food.
Y’all best make me a sandwich, it’s for your own good.

When the Rolling Stones were going to play Moncton, it seemed like I couldn’t wear my Stones shirt anyplace without someone commenting on it. Thus, I decided to stop wearing it for a while. When the Superman movie came along, I retired my Superman shirt for a while. Now the Stones are comng here, so that shirt is out of the loop again. Unfortunately, yesterday I wore my “Support the Municipality” shirt from Homesar Runner and some guy actually thought I meant support the Halifax Regional Municipality. It seems that the HRM had ripped him off in some way, so he did not support them. Surely I’m not going to move, but I’m also not going to give up on that shirt yet. The lesson is,

I have to admit, I’m not actually down with OPP. And since the song claims that every homeboy is down with OPP, I suppose I’ve proven myself not to be a homeboy. I’ll just have to take it one day at a time.