Saddness...

Well, as c-rag said, "haha Stephen Harper won, you socialist bastard!" I am quite disheartened at this, because I am, as Craig so poeticly put it, a socialist bastard. Canada is now in the hands of a man whose asshole is securely filled with George Bush's fucking post (yes, I stole that term from a poem by John Wilmot about premature ejaculation called the imperfect enjoyment. I suggest you all read it). Thankfully, the government is a very close mnority, so hopefully terrifying-robot-man will be held in check. I give the Conservatives about a year before Canada realizes they've made a terrible mistake in voting them in.

In other news, I kick ass at Cribbage.

In still other news, I have decided to include the dellightful poem I mentioned earlier.


The Imperfect Enjoyment. By John Wilmot.

Naked she lay, clasped in my longing arms,
I filled with love, and she all over charms;
Both equally inspired with eager fire,
Melting through kindness, flaming in desire.
With arms, legs, lips close clinging to embrace,
She clips me to her breast, and sucks me to her face.
Her nimble tongue, Love's lesser lightening, played
Within my mouth, and to my thoughts conveyed
Swift orders that I should prepare to throw
The all-dissolving thunderbolt below.
My fluttering soul, sprung with the painted kiss,
Hangs hovering o'er her balmy brinks of bliss.
But whilst her busy hand would guide that part
Which should convey my soul up to her heart,
In liquid raptures I dissolve all o'er,
Melt into sperm and, and spend at every pore.
A touch from any part of her had done't:
Her hand, her foot, her very look's a cunt.

Smiling, she chides in a kind murmuring noise,
And from her body wipes the clammy joys,
When, with a thousand kisses wandering o'er
My panting bosom, "Is there then no more?"
She cries. "All this to love and rapture's due;
Must we not pay a debt to pleasure too?"

But I, the most forlorn, lost man alive,
To show my wished obedience vainly strive:
I sigh, alas! and kiss, but cannot swive.
Eager desires confound my first intent,
Succeeding shame does more success prevent,
And rage at last confirms me impotent.
Ev'n her fair hand, which might bid heat return
To frozen age, and make cold hermits burn,
Applied to my dead cinder, warms no more
Than fire to ashes could past flames restore.
Trembling, confused, despairing, limber, dry,
A wishing, weak, unmoving lump I lie.
This dart of love, whose piercing point, oft tried,
With virgin blood ten thousand maids have dyed;
Which nature still directed with such art
That it through every cunt reached every heart -
Stiffly resolved, 'twould carelessly invade
Woman or man, nor aught its fury stayed:
Where'er it pierced, a cunt it found or made -
Now languid lies in this unhappy hour,
Shrunk up and sapless like a withered flower.

Thou treacherous, base deserter of my flame,
False to my passion, fatal to my fame,
Through what mistaken magic dost thou prove
So true to lewdness, so untrue to love?
What oyster-cinder-beggar-common whore
Didst thou e'er fail in all thy life before?
When vice, disease, and scandal lead the way,
With what officious haste dost thou obey!
Like a rude, roaring hector in the streets
Who scuffles, cuffs, and justles all he meets,
But if his king or country claim his aid,
The rakehell villain shrinks and hides his head;
Ev'n so thy brutal valour is displayed,
Breaks every stew, does each small whore invade,
But when great Love the onset does command,
Base recreant to thy prince, thou dar'st not stand.
Worst part of me, and henceforth hated most,
Through all the town a common fucking-post,
On whom each whore relieves her tingling cunt
As hogs do rub themselves on gates and grunt,
May'st thou to ravenous chancres be a prey,
Or in consuming weepings waste away;
May strangury and stone thy days attend;
May'st thou ne'er piss, who did refuse to spend
When all my joys did on false thee depend.
And may ten thousand abler pricks agree
To do the wronged Corinna right for thee.

Oh my. What a delightfully dirty poem. I'm done writing this. I do feverently hope I get more comments on my somewhat contreversial views! Tahtah!

NARF!

Wheeee! Election day! I'm so very excited.

In other news, on Saturday at work this old lady, the epitome of a crotchety old battleaxe, randomly gave me a binder. Cool, I know. It was pretty much the highlight of my day. Grumpy old ladies kick ass. I am definately skipping Native Studies right now, because I figure that we probably won't do anything of importance. Awwww yeah. Well, I'm gonna head'r to go buy some shizzle from the bookstore. Peace out, A-town.

Life, The Universe, and Everything.

Yes I am aware that that is a name of a book in The Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy series, but I figured I would steal it. I'm definately at school right now, but I'm on a break, not skipping (although I was soooo tempted to do so this morning). So I closed my store last night and I come home and go to bed. Then, at about midnight, I start panicing that I forgot to lock the back door. So, I make my dad drive me to the store and check. It turns out that I did, indeed, lock the door and my worrying was all for naught. God I'm a dork. I don't know why I work myself up over nothing sometimes. Oh wells, all turned out well. Thank god for the weekend. Tonight I shall go to Damjan's house for a big family saint day party deal and it will be fun.

Voting is still excting for me. God, I can't wait to put my little X ini the space beside the NDP. Wheeeee! Well, I must leave as I have probably rambled on enough, so farewell!

Election time.

I less than a week I shall be voting for the first time EVER. How am I voting, you ask? Well even if you don't care how I'm voting you ARE reading my lamer blog, so I shall tell you. I am voting NDP. The NDP and I have a special kind of bond. NDP has always been really nice to me. It has bought me flowers, given me massages, and never told me I looked fat in those pants. Yes, our relationship is one of happiness and friendship. Thank you, NDP.

Thus it ends...

*Sigh* Holidays are officially over tomorrow and I have to go back to hell...er...school. Christmas holidays were very good this year. Between calling Emily Vince all the time and rattailing Anna so hard she started crying I got to spend a lot of time with my family, which was definately nice. Relaxing will be missed. RIP Holiday break.