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Insomniak

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About Insomniak

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    Doesn't Sleep!

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  1. So it wasn't neerly as hard as I was led to beleive. A year of working for the man had hardened me enough to sort out any emotional difficulties I had with moving out, although in retrospect, I was quite concerned at the time. As I sit hear, in the glow of the screen, I'm thinking back to the past 5 weeks.

    You know what's disgusting? When you spend over $700 dollars on a woman you've convinced yourself is the most intelligent, beautiful, clever, self-loathing crature to walk God's green earth, and knowing all along that the chances she'd do something as simple as lay her lips on yours are one in a million, and yet you drool over her like a dog with an old tennis ball and fantisize about what could be and what could have been. And then suddenly, you decide you severe her from your life like a gangrenous limb in a most pathetic and horrendus manner. Whats disgusting is that you still might feel a shread of passion for this person, and they have a few material possessions of yours that you care more about than her, and most disgusting of all is that if it comes down to it, there's a chance that you might have to consider her as a last resort. It's kept me awake all hours of the night for a week. Disgusting.

    My roommates are an eclectic bunch. Barrett is a fat, hairy metrosexual with a *******e alcohol abuse problem. Last night, he went to his on-and-off girlfriend's dorm, came back stinking drunk and got in a heated arguement with me, left, came back 5 minutes later talking about some strange drink a guy gave him. We thought it was a date rape drug but it turned out to be over 3 ounces of 95% Everclear. We spent the remainder of the night trying to keep him on the couch, on his side, with a bucket and blanket while I talked with the woman at the poison control center. As the effects wore off, he became more restless, getting on his cell phone and calling as many ex-girlfriends and distant relatives as he could, leaving modulated pitch and volume messages with limited coherency.

    My roommate next door (It's a 4 bedroom rowhouse with a common kitchen/living room in case your confused), Cory, is a decent guy. Skinny and a neat-freak, likes Mudvayne and Playstation games. I get along with him best. We considered our options of what to do with Barrett last night: hogtie him? Punch each other until we had black eyes and blame him so the RCMP would take him away? Blast him with the fire extinguisher?

    Justin is a cowboy, and as much as I hate using that word, no other word could describe what he is. Raised on a farm in Rocky Mountain House, the kind of guy who wears his tight jeans, rodeo belts, cowboy hats, plaid shirts tucked in, works at a western outfitter's, need I say more, or use anymore commas? he's a decent, hard working fella with a taste for jazz trumpet.

    Red Deer isn't as bad as I first thought. The first night I went next door and met people, drank beer, watched Van Wilder, felt comfortable. the only major landmarks are the Capri Hotel, the theatre building of the Arts Centre (where most of my classes are, I've been on the roof), the water tower in the distance, and the 4 smokestacks of the hospital downtown. It's not bad.

    Oh, and her name is Dana-Ray. We have alot in common.

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