Last night I saw Thor: The Dark World (I wish Dr. Erik Selvig was naked for more of the movie) and then went to Venue to see Morgan Page. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know who Morgan Page is (“Which one is he? The one with the toque or..?”) but I went for moral support/it was free.
While standing in the archetypal mile-long line for the women’s washroom, the girls my friend and I were sandwiched between had a conversation that went along the lines of:
Girl #1: Oh my God, it does not take that long to pee.
Girl #2: Oh my God, I know right? This is so ridiculous. Do you want to go bang on some doors? I’m down to do that.
Girl #1: *says something along the lines of agreeing–was not really listening because she was annoying*
Girl #2: I like you! You’re from East Van, aren’t you? Haha, oh my God, you’re from East Van, aren’t you!
What the fuck, dude. What is your problem? I’m from East Van. And I have friends who were born and raised in East Van, and we do not
go make empty threats about banging on washroom stall doors because inebriated chicks who are at the brink of puking are apparently taking more than 30 seconds to pee. Like y’all are sober, what is the rush? Can’t we just all be in this together on this journey called life????
At the same time, we can all learn something from people who lack civility and who forget that they’re living in a society that ideally aims towards a sense of community. These moments remind me to consider kindness and respect for other people. I actually watched an incredibly rude girl get kicked out before she even got in the club. Forreal, she was very loudly complaining about how disgusting Vancouver clubs are (so then why are you here?) and gave attitude to the guest line chick, and the bouncer came over and told her to leave. These people are like the World Star Hip-Hop of real life.
So always say please and thank you — and an especial thank you to those who remind us to be better.
Here’s a toast for the douchebags.
What else happened last night?? Oh right, my friend almost gauged my eyeball out and the pain still reverberates in my eye socket today. My girlfriend covered a slice of pizza with an incredible amount of Tabasco sauce and ranch dressing–the point that it was soaked and dripping–it was really. Fucking. Good.
I’m still thinking about it right now.
I think I found my spirit animal.
xx, Butterscotch Waterfall
I initially hated my boyfriend’s Miata, but somehow, maybe something to do with this hot, hot, hot heat, I’ve grown rather fond of this Mario-Kart-can’t-go-faster-than-70km/h-esque car. Despite the fact that it is exponentially more dangerous than your average sedan (even coupe for that matter), I doth enjoy the carefree-Levi’s-blue-jeans American life image that was originally advertised for the Miata.
Carefree-Levi’s-blue-jeans American life. I mean, just how sexy is my
100% human hair burka highway hair?