things were better back then

right now i'm like an old man stroking my wife's disgusting veiny hand and staring into space, mumbling about how much i miss the days of yore....only i'm by myself wearing shorts that are possibly illegal (definitely not arab-friendly) and alone, as usual, with the hum of the fridge.

LOOK AT HER. I MEAN, JUST LOOK!!!!

the hair, the face, the breasts, the voice, the jumpsuit. the lack of gameplaying with the lens. the talent that you can feel, the emotion.
dude....THINGS WERE BETTER BACK THEN!
or were they??
uhhh..psssshaaaa, when it came to living in vancouver you bet your ass they were.
i've grown up hearing the stories; you and your stoner friends each throwing in 50 bucks a month to rent a seaside mansion; nude beach inspired orgies; rolling out of university into a decent paying job.
not to mention the zany clothes, mountains of lsd fueled fuck sessions, and the best music ever written!!

i guess people still had the same concerns, trials, tribulations, and ailments they have now back then, but it just seems so much more exhausting now. the lack of privacy these days is really getting to me. since i'm tall and exotic looking (read: kind of strange), i've had strangers come up to me lots of times and ask to take my picture. i've always said yes, thinking they will just take the snapshot home to germany or japan or wherever and glance at it maybe a few times in their lives, perhaps not even. but now it makes a creepy feeling come over me.
"they are going to put this online," i think, and then someone will download it, or at least look at it, and i will never meet that person but they will have seen me and to see me is to know me.


times are viral!
the whole world has going viral! look at all those little d-bags at the canucks riots who thought they were invisible (or didn't care) and now half the country and people all over the world have seen their zitty faces grinning as they lit up a cop car or threw a garbage can through the window of a pizza joint.
i hear there is a no hire policy for five years enforced for those individuals who were recognized. that means if they want to apply for a job as a fuckin sandwich artist at subway the owner can google the nerd's name and BOOM you, sir, are not for hire.
you are the weakest link- goodbye! (these days if you drop that line people stare at you blankly.)
you are going to be in a world of suck for a looooong time!

even the friendly neighbourhood flasher on the commuter train isn't there anymore- too many cameras. maybe he took his show on the road, or went with the classic "hide in outhouse" method.
though i heard that was an urban legend.

i'm over everything being photographed. narcissism is only fun if you pre-approve everything that is recorded, and half the fun in that is knowing your audience. if your audience is potientially the whole world, dang! no fun in that! i feel i should include an asterix here*

if a time machine ever gets invented for real- not like back to the future, or the one uncle rico bought in napoleon dynamite but a real bonfide, badass time machine- i'm setting it to a fleetwood mac concert in 1978 and having sex with 28,467 men, women and farm animals in one night on six hits of acid, a field of mushrooms, twelve grams of cocaine and three hundred handrolled marijuana cigarettes while wearing an orange corduroy thong and eating a can of spam. you can all kiss my ass. even though i'd be dead at the end of the night, at least no one would know what i'd done- unless they forgot to burn one of the polaroids.

*not that anyone gives a shit about me, or you, anyway