'Tis placid midnight, stars are keeping
Their meek and silent course in heaven;
Save pale recluse, for knowledge seeking,
All mortal things to sleep are given.

But see! a wandering Night-moth enters, 
Allured by taper gleaming bright;
Awhile keeps hovering round, then ventures
On Goethe's mystic page to light.
With awe she views the candle blazing;
A universe of fire it seems
To moth-savante with rapture gazing, 
Or Fount whence Live and Motion streams.

What passions in her small heart whirling, 
Hopes boundless, adoration, dread;
At length her tiny pinions twirling,
She darts, and--puff!--the moth is dead.

--Thomas Carlyle, The Tragedy of the Night Moth

Laying, lounging, unusually calm.
A conversation unsaid,
As if nothing is left to talk about.
An ivy-flower pressing against the glass.
The impressionistic blossom-haze twisting itself in an excruciatingly slow dance.

Last night's reverie hangs on my eyelids, 
Blurred faces and distant laughter.
Seductive and dark, she gives voice to reason with a strong tongue.
A snake-tongued side-talker, failing to convince the congregation of the global enemy in women,
Always leaving the damned seat down.

This is Father's Day.
A day designed to mock the impotent and sour the failed,
Or to celebrate the unharmful.
Pride, dignity, and honour:
Loose, flabby things which have long since died.
Chivalry, another casualty of the uprising.

It's sunny outside, though.
Let's go out tonight.

A meme that will one day destroy humanity.

Things about me:

Four jobs
1. Forklift Operator
2. Production-line supervisor.
3. Supply teacher for preschool
4. Santa's Elf

Places I've lived
1. Toronto
2. Hamilton
3. Key West

Places I've been on vacation
1. Key West
2. Quebec City
3. Algonquin Park
4. I'm going to go to the Toronto Island for a couple days next weekend

Favourite foods
1. Yakisoba
2. Udon Soup
3. Tempura Battered meats
4. Hamburgers
5. Steaks
6. Fried chicken w/ hot sauce

Places I'd rather be
1. Key Largo
2. Jackson, Tennessee
3. New Orleans
4. Tokyo
5. Hong Kong
6. The Himalayas
7. Paris
8. The British Columbian county-side
9. The Philippines
10. The Carribean
11. Portland
12. Drunk stupid

Thing to accomplish
1. Get my ECE certificate
2. Buy some land
3. Establish a farm and a summer-camp
4. Establish a winery

This is what you do with a drunken sailor.

It was a day of empty rides.

The candy dance.

CHEESE!

The family candy picnic.

DANGER, DANGER!

She will one day consume the world, but not today.

The skyride is one of my favourites, it has also been closed for the past few years. Today is was open.

Boats, frogs, and stretching girls.

The dragon-coaster.

Hello goats, I am not afraid of falling. ((..@_@..))

Huge Muskoka chairs. Featured with cute girls, later.

The track belongs to another favourite ride of mine: The Centreville Express.

The tilt is because of CRAZY SWINGING CABLE-CAR OF DOOM! Seriously, it's not because I'm drunk.

Us two, yay!

That contraption eats people and cleans the cars in one motion.

Thar be thy bloody maw!

Phew, just made it.

Br0n: "If i had a bucket I would bring the sparkling to you."

I love when trees look like they are sipping from a lake.

The farm there is so beautiful.

That pig is the size of a horse.

A slightly better picture of the goats. Kawaii! ^_^V

The shade of lovers is sweeter than other kinds.

A spontaneous trip to the Toronto Island. Part 1

On our way!

A building in Toronto.

Dem's a lotta life jackets.

A glass skyline through the teeth of a fence.

A thoughtful passenger.

Now with purpose.

Arriving at the island.

One of the Island residents.

Welcome to Centerville, our original destination.

More residents.

They were convinced we had some kind of food, and were very vocal (and rude!) in letting us know.

It's a goose feather.. Or is it macaroni?

A protective mother.

The ostriches were the best.

Br0n doesn't look happy in her stroller.

Into the grinder with you!

There is a kitten in distress, somewhere.

Onto the ghost ship! (That girl in front of us wasn't on the ride.)

To be continued...

Shelves and shelves of unread books, 
Posturing in the light of expectation.
Forever wetting my tongue on a worn golden rim. 
Dying against a feminine grindstone. 
A mockery of life, 
A failed student, 
A failed lover.
A blank page with too many authors. 
A distant mother on the edge of existence.
That is who I am.