After the nuclear holocaust, Abby and I are going to steal some flamingoes from the zoo and keep them as pets. If we can't find shrimp to feed to them, we'll just have to spraypaint them twice a month to keep them pink.
In the meantime, we're going to go see Matt Good at the East Van Cultural Centre tomorrow night. Right now we are making some sort of arrangements to be nowhere near East Hastings that time of night. I would be the first person to say that a lot of people are overly paranoid and these places are safer than some would like to think. But still, I'm not stupid.
Yay for Commercial, not that it's drastically better. I like it by day, though. It's not like I can say the same for the poverty of East Hastings.
Sunday's all about Stuart McLean live at the Chan because yes indeed, I'm secretly middle-aged and I love that kind of stuff, especially when it involves a full orchestra playing variations on the Hockey Night in Canada theme. The man's awesome.
Today we met Lesra Martin at the local school district's pro d day, who if you don't remember was that black kid in The Hurricane, only not an actor but a real guy. He tours and talks about the value of literacy and having a positive attitude. Pretty inspirational. Roy Henry Vickers, the artist, was also there with a heartfelt speech that brought everyone in the gym to their feet.
I guess what I want to say is that by the time the weekend is over I'll be all cultured out and ready to crawl back into the hole from whence I came.
I think I'm more likely to be out on my ear.
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