I say I went to Vancouver to see You Are Not Dead. But the city knows better, the foreshore best.
Thanks, Moon, for low tide the first time and again for my last, so I could meet and roam my favorite place on earth.
And a Commercial Drive dumpster for good measure:
Speaking of dumpsters, we saw the largest salad in North America.
Salad shooter…
We were back weeks ago, but Life had other plans.
What are your plans? Continuity?
Happens anyway.
Hides things.
You know the part in The Road where they leave Omar naked at the side of the path and the man admonishes the boy for sulking, thinking it’s his job to care and be concerned about every wretched soul who would slit his throat and eat his sweetmeats, “You’re not the one who has to worry about everything,” says the man and the boy mumbles something under his breath then Viggo challenges, rough, and the boy yells, “Yes, I am! I am the one!” and I start crying?
This isn’t like that.
In other news, I was biking on 27th and HEY! did that say slut? Backpedal camera fishing standing on a fire hydrant. Shore nuff. I spied it again at 27th and Nic. Huh.
