I went to Sketchfest with Helen tonight and made friends with a comedy group from Calgary operating under the moniker, "Obscene and Not Heard". A clever bunch; they performed a radio play type thing they wrote for the ten minute play contest. It was about a super hero, "The White Diaper". Not too shabby, and exceedingly friendly, they were.

It was a good night, on the whole. I drank nothing but soda water and cranberry juice, got extremely hyper from the sugar, and most likely made an ass of myself. Nothing new there, I'm used to it.

The Rooster came, the Rooster
bringing all kindsa kickass with his fancy tail.
He had a horn he leant out
and didn't get it back.
He was pretty pissed about it too.

He's bad for relationships, which means he's arguing
with his western couneterparts that say
hey, this is the year for you, keep your heart and your eyes open.
Why would he care anyway?
He looks goooood.

And so do I.
The big joke, "The year of the cock"
but I haven't seen one yet.
Probably a good thing.

It's a late start, the fated part.
I don't want to make the effort.
Can't this just fall into my lap
like it's supposed to?
The way the Georgia Straight said it would?
Bastard never lies.
At least, that's what he told me.
Sigh, pseudoscientists who think they know it all.