This stuff is something I posted for a friend of mine on Facebook. He was taking two weeks off work but he called it a sabbatical instead of a vacation. So that got me to thinking about what would a guy on a sabbatical do? Most likely he'd keep a journal of what he did, for sure, so I helped out by writing this for daily diary for him. :D
Really I'm re-posting this here so I can see it in the pretty Blogger format. Here it is in all it's journal-ey rawness:
Day One:
Woke up with cougar stains on my underwear. I found the wrappers from three pairs of Depends undergarments on the floor but no undergarments. That can't be good. My gay neighbors from across the hall are banging on my door. They sound angry and very, very naked. This might be about the stuff I spraypainted on their car. Why'd they buy a white Volkswagon? They're just begging for vandalism. I feel no pity. I'm going back to bed.
Day Two:
Today I bought a puppy just to watch it die. The guy at the pet shop said this particular breed lives around 13 years. Perfect. I don't think this is going to be the instant gratification thing I was hoping for. I doubt I'll be around when this dog finally bites the Big One. I hope it likes Iams. I named her Antonio, like that guy who does the voice of the cat in the Shrek movies. Antonio Bandaras. There's some kinda irony there, dog named after a guy who voices a cat. I'm just not really sure what irony is.
Day Three:
Went out hunting for cougar again last night. Cougar. Huh. That makes it sound fuzzy and kitten-like. What I woke up to this morning was definitely neither of those. I'd say if you want to continue the with cat analogy you'd want to go a bit further back on the evolutionary scale. Let's say sabretooth. I woke up with a sabretooth. An old, saggy, mangey, urine-soaked sabretooth. I just now realize where those Depends undergarments were going. Antonio liked her.
Day Four:
I've decided I like mozzarella more than cheddar. It was a tough decision but it's done now. Smooth sailing from here. How many days until Dakota Fannings legal?
Day Five:
Last night I spent an hour talking to a girl at Maxwell's. At first I felt bad because I couldn't remember her name then I realized I'd never met her before. Then I felt bad because I drank from her glass without noticing the huge coldsore hanging off the corner of her mouth. The bright red lipstick masked the sore perfectly. I'm not posting her pic on Facebook for sure. Well, maybe just from the nose up.
Day Six:
My apartment was as hot as the Human Torch's crotch last night. Even just lying still trying to sleep I sweat like that sabretooth chick when she was on top. A kind of cool thing happened though. The sweat made the ink run from the comics I was sleeping on, giving me a tattoo on the left side of my body. I've got Superman on my back and Spiderman on my butt. I'm going down to the laundry room now in case there's some girls there I can show it too. See you at Maxwell's!
Day Seven:
I put on a condom today just to be safe. It's nice and snug. I slipped a couple quarters in too, along the sides. That's in case I need to make a call and I lost all my money someplace. It never hurts to be prepared.
Day Eight:
I cut my hair to look like Corey Haims was when he was in Lost Boys. Frosted tips and everything. Looks pretty cool. I couldn't reach the back so who knows what's going on there. I wish the weather were a bit cooler so I could get away with wearing a cape. People might look at me strangely if I wore one in this heat. I've saved up enough Coke points to get a prostitute. Not one of the good ones, though, one of the ones from the Ukraine or the Czech Republic. And a ringtone. Now I have all the ringtones. I wish you could buy a cellphone with Coke points, then I could hear what my ringtones sound like.
Day Nine
My place is empty. The furniture, the tv's, the complete set of Famous Monsters of Filmland, my autographed photo of Lance Bass... All gone. Antonio's gone too. I find it odd that on the one night my gay neighbors from across the hall invite me over for a nightcap (first time ever!) I wake up to this. Well, I can see what's going on here. My mamma didn't raise no dummies. I can "grok" it. Antonio ran away and stole all my shit. I hate that bitch. I hope she gets heartworms.
Day Ten
There's nothing left for me in this city. My dogs gone. my stuffs gone and sabretooth won't return my calls. She's pissed at me because she saw what I've been writing on Facebook (some people are so thin skinned). To top it off, my gay neighbors from across the hall have gotten a puppy and it's been barking day and night. So, I'm making a change, I quit my job and I'm taking the passport I bought off eBay and going to the Olympics! I'll be there as Shawn Johnson claims gold and history as part of the Women's Team and on her own in the Individuals. I wonder how close I can get. I wonder if you can buy her practice outfits. I wonder if security uses pepper-spray or batons.
http://www.shawnjohnson.net/
Day Eleven
I'm in Beijing! What a beautiful country. It's the small differences that make you aware you're really in a foreign land. Communal bathrooms, for instance. None of that Men/Women discrimination here. I walk up to the customs guy and right away he starts jabbering but I can't make out what he's saying, so I say "I'm Canadian, mister, I speak English. Stop speaking your Chinese at me and tell me how to get to the Olympics!" That seemed to shut him up. He just stared at me for like a minute, then he went over to some dude in a white hat. They spoke for a few seconds and come walking over to me. The white hat guy says to me "Welcome to Korea, Mr Canadian." But I'm not falling for that ruse and I call them on it by tipping over metal detectors and removing my clothes. Things get hazey after that.
Day Twelve
I'm back in Ottawa. I think. At first when I woke up I thought I was still in China because I was so much taller than everyone around me. I felt like a giant! Then I realized I was in a playground. Something positive did come out this, though. I got the idea for this sci-fi show about a chinese time traveller whose time machine looks like a phone booth. I'm going to call it Doctor Hu.
Day Thirteen
I'm thinking about selling my place and moving to Arnprior. I don't really own, I just rent. That's why I need to move to a town that doesn't have an extradition treaty with Ottawa. By the time the buyers clue in I'll be long gone to the asshole of Ontario, Arnprior! I don't know why everyone says that about Arnprior, it's not as bad as Almonte. I'm hoping to get in the high 200k range. That should keep me in Diet Coke and Anchor Bay DVD's 'til I die. Also, the bartender at Maxwell's says I can sleep there if I help out around the bar sometimes. I said hells yeah! I spend all my free time here anyways, I might as well get something out of it besides crabs.
Day Fourteen
I should have known the offer to stay at Maxwell's was too good to be true. Turns out each night after all the bars and restaurants on Elgin close all the employees and owners go out to the middle of the street and fight. Tonights fight is Friday's Roast Beef House and Piano Bar vs. Maxwell's Bistro & Club. The bartender here says since I'm staying on their property I have to fight. Perfect. It might not be too bad, even though Friday's staff outnumber us 2:1 they're mostly young girl servers. My plan is to go in, grab three or four servers and let them pile on top of me. If I'm going down it'll be in a blaze of glory, just like Tammy Fay Baker. No, wait, I'm thinking of her husband, Benny Hinn. That still doesn't sound right... Anyways, if we win tonight we go up against Monkey Joe's Bar & Grill in the intra-city semifinals in September. I have to go buy some steel-toe boots.
Day Fifteen
I took a dump today and it came out in the shape of Jesus. I remember a few years ago someone selling a potato chip in the shape of Jesus for a lot of money on eBay so I figured I'd do that too. I knew I'd need a box to keep it in so I left the Wal-mart bathroom and asked an old woman in a blue vest where I could find one. When I got back to the bathroom a small crowd had gathered around the stall I left my masterpiece in. Someone added a pair of sunglasses and a cigarette. Nice touch. It could only add to it's value. I boxed it up and got on the bus downtown. Long story short, I fell asleep and the box was stolen. Some lucky bastards in for a surprise when they open their shiny new DVD player. Luckily I took a lot of pictures of it with my digital camera. I plan to mail prints to all the churches in Ottawa and the Vatican. The Pope needs to see this.
Day Sixteen
Well, this is it, the final day of my Sabbatical. For those who've been reading this since the beginning I hope you've grown to know me, grown to love me, maybe, or just grown (I really have no idea how old any of you are). I feel it only fair to tell you now that this is the last you'll hear from me. Hopefully. If all goes well, this time tomorrow my sex-change will be complete and I will fully be a woman in the biblical sense of the word. It's got something to do with apples in the bible and I don't eat fresh fruit of any kind but you get the idea. I had the breasts implanted two weeks ago at the start of my Sabbatical. They were the whole reason for it, to be honest. I knew I'd need some time off to recuperate. My penis was removed about three years ago. I've only now had the courage to finish the transformation, the breasts and hair extensions were the hardest to go through with. I'll be keeping the facial hair and have opted not to undertake female hormone therapy just in case I have a chance at professional female boxing or some other female sport where masculine strength will be an asset. And for those of you who are wondering about my unspeakable area, I'm what's technicaly known as transgendered. I've always had a vagina. And, I am fully capable of reproducing. I just have to find the right person to do it with. I'll be changing my name and phone number and will not be posting here anymore. Thanks for taking the time to read all this. Goodbye. I miss you all already.
See you at Maxwell's!
