Some people say nothing in life is worth anything unless you have to work for it.
I tend to agree.
Yes, having a Ferrari given to me would be sweet. I would grow my hair into a mullet and pull off the exhaust, go cruising around Coal Harbour at night. Wait, nearly 1 in 4 condos sit empty in Coal Harbour, so that wouldn’t allow me to wake up the most amount of people with the song only an italian V8 can sing.
Well, I’m pretty depressed. I met a very cute foreign girl recently, she was feminine in all the ways I like, and her smile was genuine and full of warmth. A bit goofy and cute, but with a very strong streak of tender femalehood, like finding a vein of gold in white marble. I went out with her a couple times, I thought my intentions were clear to her, but she ended up making out with another girl at a party I threw. She then left with her.
I suppose it’s alright though. There is a woman I know out there in the world, someone I’ve known for years, who I know would make a better mate, I’d just have to grow even more as a person to attract her. You can’t drink the wine of a quality woman when you’re holding a red solo cup.
I’d pretty excited about getting my next car. If everything works out as planned, I’ll be writing my next book in the company of Ken Foster at various locales around Vancouver. He’ll be painting while I write, sort of an artistic-coop program.