I dyed my hair a coppery colour today. Pictures can be seen here. As you can see, the dye didn't cover up all of the bluish green areas. I'm going to use a much more intense shade of red dye in a little bit to cover what the first dye didn't. I think it will work, but I don't want to jinx it.Going red again feels good. It just seems more "me". Though the turquoisey colour was a lot of fun.
I keep forgetting about my damned nose ring. I need to get it replaced before I get friggin' gangrene. Tomorrow, yes, tomorrow.
I know that with slightly less outrageously punk-coloured hair, and a non-inflamed nostril, I'll feel more secure passing out resumes. I can sense it already.
So yesterday I took my webcam out with me. Here are some pictures I took.
Our garbage people are on strike here. Many of our garbage cans have this sign on them.
The ones without the signs tend to look like this ...
... or this.
This is what the other side of our garbage cans all look like ... something only lamers and computer geeks get a kick out of.
This is a Canadian tourist shop that sells dream catcher-looking things and eskimo wear year round. Because you never know when you might need a down-filled, sheepskin-lined parka on a 37�C day in July.
This is the welcoming sign in front of the Condom Shack on Queen street ... the store from which Crystal forced me to purchase a certain battery-requiring device.
This is some old guy in an orange T-shirt.
This is the same guy, only closer up. I'm not sure why, but I felt compelled to take two whole pictures of him.
This is a hip girl.
These are some badass quasi-gothic looking people. I was a bit too far away to get a decent picture.
How much do you wanna bet that the front of his shirt bears a Tommy Hilfiger flag?
I find mannequins eerie.
Here are some rickshaws. Much like buses, they're all slathered in advertisements. The "drivers" even wear C-Plus t-shirts.
I'd say Canada has a bit of a Brit fetish, wouldn't you?
Now for the most perplexing photos.
Remember this entry? The one about the crazy schizophrenic guy who apparently likes to leave bags of urine tied to random public devices, like pay phones? Well, here's what I came across at the Canada Trust bank deposit box:
No ... it can't be ...
My god! It is!
Now, I know what you're thinking. Maybe it's not urine. It could be anything. This bag isn't clear like the one at the pay phone was. Well, that's what I thought at first, but as I stepped closer to take a picture, there was no mistaking it. The stench of urine wafted over me as I quickly took a couple of snapshots and tried to look inconspicuous. I got away from there pretty quickly, let me tell you. Yuck.
I don't know if it was in fact crazy schizophrenic guy who left the bag there, but I think it's pretty likely. I actually saw him later that day sitting on a curb talking to himself, but by that time I was all out of picture memory on my camera. Besides, I would've wanted to be at a safe distance from him when I took the picture .. who knows how he might react if he noticed me? He could be a paranoid schizophrenic who thinks The Man is after him, and lunge at someone like me taking his picture, thinking I was part of the conspiracy against him. I really don't know.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the pictures. I'm off to dye my hair yet again.
Adios.
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� Ripe Tomato 2001-2005
Don't steal my shit. I'll send thugs. Oh shut up. I do
so
have thugs. Quit laughing! Look, just don't steal my stuff, OK?
