Because Post-Its in your journal are too clumsy to stick forever.

There are nineteen floors beneath me. Fortresses were once constructed on high hills to allow their inhabitants the foresight to see an enemy’s oncoming attack. The vicissitude of predicting the future with an elevated perspective. I’m no expert, but I should be.

From this perch I watch the traffic tumble down Yonge from day to night. When I was younger I enjoyed watching the fish curl around the corral in a fish tank to soothe my mind to sleep. Nowadays I count headlights. Midnight is the time. When the quiet of the day creeps up on just how damaging your selfish existence really is. Room for one more?

The universe is full of constants and absolutes, yet modern life consistently begs to differ.

Let’s get in a cab, I’ll buy you kabab. Post-party schwarma.

This week I saw lightning and heard thunder rumble in a blizzard. Weird.

There is a high-rise crane across the way that blows freely in the wind. The scary part of this story being that it blows and rotates within mere feet of my building which must freak the shit out of the people on the floors below. True story, my friend and I once climbed a crane like the aforementioned in a daring act of inebriated bastardism. The idea of not being able to walk a straight line down the rails of a suspended boom never crossed our minds?

Douche bag emails are awesome. On a recent flight down to the states, just before take-off, I overhead the man in the seat behind me book a hotel room and gave the email kennyg52@somedomain.com. Excuse me? Kenny G? His name was Charles – douche! Maybe that’s only funny to me?

I prefer European paper sizing and formats.

I recently purchased an iPhone and have it working in Canada. Fuck, yeh! I still will never trade in my Blackberry, but I certainly love the stylish functionality. I have found it is the perfect subway companion. We all carry a phone, so the bundled iPod part just allows for greater convenience.

Ask about our great rates?

A funny: How do you know when it’s time for bed at Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch? When the big hand touches the little hand…

Remember that book I told you I was writing? Writing books is hard stuff if you can’t do it everyday That’s not be giving up tho, more or less the sound of building more insanity into an overly convoluted tale with drastic personal ramifications.

I fully support the invention of invisible fabrics.

In the month of January I flew 20,000+ KMs.

According to recent financial estimates, the US Dollar is worth $0.04 cents today when compared to healthier American economies of yesteryear. Buy gold.

The latest craze is indie bands selling their music to corporations for use in commercials. Failing music industry? Heck no, these guys are just innovative enough to work beyond the traditional model. Maybe those big ailing labels should think outside the box? Download -> Phanton, Pt II - Justice. Name the commercial it’s from.

Failure is a box of chocolates with no legend for flavour guidance.

When people walk down the sidewalks below I wonder how high they look up. Perhaps they can see me rocking out from the windows upon high? I’m drinking vino and pretty fucking elated at the fact.

If I don’t know everything, then I would say that you know absolutely nothing. Maybe that’s the wine talking?