Canada? Big? 'You taking the piss?

I should know, I've just driven across the cunt. Not me, strictly speaking, since I don't have a license, but my girlfriend. I just sat next to her getting shitfaced every day and saying things like, "Fuck me, look at that", and "What's this cunt playing at?". Ollie, our husky, is now known as 'The Dude'. As long as he's with both myself and my girlfriend nothing phases the cunt. Nicely.

Oh yes hoopleheads, an epic journey indeed. I'll tell you this for nothing: don't try and drive across Manitoba and Saskatchewan in the middle of a baking summer. Never-ending prairie land with huge skies will fuck you up and no mistake. I almost wept with joy when we hit the Rockies nabdammit.

Since this is my first time in N.America, I am allowed to be a total spastic and go mental at seeing things I've grown up with on tv and movie screens. Fire hydrants! Huge cars! People saying 'go figure'! Diners with those pour-in sugar things and bottomless cups of coffee! Gutted however that smoking is banned in most places. I wanted to do a Pulp Fiction/Reservoir Dogs and eat steak and eggs, drink coffee and smoke all at the same time while arguing about Madonna songs.

Haven't got my cock out yet in a bar, always a good sign.

So anyways just landed a superb logwood mansion that we can rent for a year on a wicked island, westsiiide. The house overlooks a sandy bay on the Pacific, with mountains just beyond. Everything is perfect, apart from the fact that the locals are so fucking stoned on B.C bud they can't get their shit together to sell me some. I'm serious. They just keep giving me little bits of their own stash because they can't be fucked to walk round the back of the pub to their caravan and sort it out. It would be funny were it not for the fact that myself and my girlfriend are total demon smokers of the highest order and we're both gagging for a big bag of that shit to take home and get fucking bent. Been on the island for a week for fuck's sake. B.C Bud is the business. I just had a spliff and I think I can feel my beard growing.

Check me out: We drove through a town called 'Buffalo Jump Head Smashed-In'. Google map-it if you don't believe me you cunts.

Anyways, forgive the diary-like gayness of this shit. Just that after the worst seven months of my life I've arrived in the perfect place to recover. Accordingly, I feel like being a bit gay.

How gay was that?

I notice that after months of inactivity there are an average of eight people a day checking at this blog. You sad, sad cunts you.

Sirrah!

"Don't talk about it, be about it." Mos Def