“For what?” You ask with baited breath.

“Uhm, sorry. Can’t say.”

I know, I know. That’s kinda mean but I still can’t say so please quit asking me and sending me beer and cigarette bribes. Well, quit the asking at least. Feel free to continue with the rest.

I will be MIA for the next week and then I shall reappear on the scene like a bolt of lightning or a super hero and I will whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

Breathing is optional.

This is our day……… businesses are closing all over the place and the few mask donning pedestrians that are about make it appear like either Has Mat or Michael Jackson fans have invaded the downtown core. Visibility is at about a block right now and we all reek of that sour burnt wood smell.

Fuck.

I know we’ve been here before, but never in my recollection has the smoke been this bad. You shouldn’t be able to actually chew the air, should you? Not much to do but sit back and watch BC burn….

Yeah, that. I have it.

It’s a song from”Coke Machine Glow” -Gord Downie’s old solo project- called Vancouver Divorce. All morning I’ve been hearing;

“Sittin’ here at the Horton’s, so you know this is important.”

All of you in Canada have probably just cracked a wee little smile of familiarity and nostalgia while most of you in the US are saying “Huh?”

On the up side though, at least it’s not the fucking “Chicken Dance.” Na na na na na na na na, Na na na na nana na……….

Sorry if I just implanted you with that little piece of fresh hell.

WHY WHY WHY DO YOU PEOPLE EXIST?

I can’t believe that you actually had the fucking audacity to call me a “nosy bitch” as I stood there screaming at you at full volume on the street in an attempt to humiliate you enough so that maybe, just maybe, next time you go to the fucking casino to gamble away your afternoon YOU WON’T LEAVE YOUR FUCKING DOG IN THE CAR IN THE FULL SUN IN THE MIDDLE OF AUGUST!!!!

I understand you were probably more than a little shocked at the volume and fury of my little tirade however I don’t give a shit. I care about the little white dog panting on the floor of the passenger side. You? I don’t care about you in the slightest, you piece of garbage.

I’ll be watching for your car jackass.

Sincerely,

Kim

PS- My throat is actually sore right now from the yelling, but it’s a good sore.

You, the giver and taker of things, are a fucking asshole. I hate you with the fury of a category 5 hurricane. Plus a couple of extra hundred categories. If I could rip out your heart and make a nice nicoise salad with it, I would. Unfortunately, you clearly do not have one.

Sincerely,

Kim

HA! SUCK IT! You bigots & homophobes.

As for all of you “save marriage” jackasses, can you PLEASE get it through your thick fucking skulls that marriage is a LEGAL CONTRACT BETWEEN TWO PEOPLE and not some divine partnership dreamed up by your god! When you want a divorce, do you call god or do you call a freaking LAWYER??????

This picture isn’t really all that impressive unless you know that there is actually a mountain back there. Several in fact, and not all that far away. It’s as though I suddenly live in the prairies without having any memory of packing and moving and leaving the mountains behind. It’s kinda like my glasses are dirty but no amount of cleaning removes the film that I am looking through.

This shot- also not particularly impressive- shows a blurry hill. On a normal day you can pick out individual trees. You can see the trail of dust left behind an ATV as it roars upward. Not so much these days. The interior is a shroud of smoke and the constant buzz of water bombers. 2 firefighters just died the other day when their bomber crashed and then the wreckage started yet another fire. I’ve lost track of how many are burning in my beloved BC interior. It reminds me of those uber foggy mornings in Vancouver where everything just disappears into the mist. Instead of that wonderfully sharp and briny sea smell, my house is a campfire, only missing the whole Kumbaya and marshmallow roasting part of it.

Fuck. I’d kill for a bit of wind right now.

She was never a puppy, she was a product.

This is Lucy now.

She still has her problems. She bolts out of the room at unexpected loud noises, shakes for hours after the thunder stops and has to be medicated for fireworks, but she sleeps curled up with Maggi at the foot of our bed -safe- every night.

I thought this was a fantastic follow up to the liquid diet post because that’s the kind of jerk I am.