locilre

I just got off of work,which was a pleasure. Being around the public again is really cheering, even though I was constantly mussing up orders left and right. Training can get you down, if you let it, since it's a very haphazard combination of the frustration of failure, and the importune disposition of your trainer. My last two trainers: Amanda, and Alyssa, were both great to me, so that eliminates some of the stress.

I did however, make the mistake of leaving my bike locked up at work last night, since I figured it's only a block and a half from my house, realtively quiet night, essentially a free bike, etc. etc. Well, someone took it upon themselves to leave a condom wrapped around my handle bars. I would really like to have a look in on someone's inner conversation at the time they decided to do that.

My cow-orkers thought it was a used condom, but: a) there was too much, it would have had to have been three guys, or an ape, to put that much spunk there in b) it was the wrong colour, cum never goes pinkish grey, even if in a condom over night c) it wasn't nearly viscous enough. I'm not sure what it was, or why I'm writing about why it wasn't cum... I just figure it'll help me to convince myself that I don't need to hose down my handle bars.

In other news, I think I am going to go and hit up the Toronto Comic Arts Festival. Essentially to see: Chester Brown, James Jean, Joe Matt, Seth, Ryan North, Joey Comeau, and Azad Injejikian.