raspberry saturday

there was a time in history where blogging meant that pretty girls would fly drive and bus their way to your house, theyd knock on the door and theyd do anything you wanted.

even eat at mcdonalds with you.

the insanity that one day you’re goofing off typing at work into what you thought was a void and the next day women who you’d have never approached are on your magic couch, turning it magic, is something one would have expected was exclusively assigned for hypnotists, fire fighters, and musicians.

and then there are the canadians.

i seriously should write a book about the relationship between the busblog and canadia.

one of the chapters would be called raspberry sundae, a young lady from vancouver who one day found this blog and locked in and wrote my name on her belly with lipstick while wearing a school girl outfit

and who would write posts to me like this after reading my book Stiff:

dear tony;

yesterday after work i went and learned how to skimboard. it was a beautiful day and as i sat on the beach drinking a beer looking at the mountains, i thought how cool it was that i could have (if i didn’t have to go to work everyday to be able to afford to live here) gone snowboarding on the mountains and headed straight to the beach in my bikini to skim.

by the time the sun started to set, i was chilly and wet and tired and bruised, but i had the biggest smile on my face and i was buzzing a little from the beer and i felt pretty at peace with the universe. i drove home, keeping the smile in my heart, grabbed the copy of stiff that you sent me, and crawled into the tub.

i waited until yesterday to read it ’cause, well, you know why i waited. i went cover to cover in the tub – bubbles fading, water cooling – and didn’t stop till i’d read every word; some of ’em twice. my favourite part was where you said that kurt was waiting for courtney to get there, even though he knew she’d never make it. i loved how he had courtney on one shoe and frances on the other, even in heaven. it added that little bit of bittersweet i needed to make the day absolutely perfect.

you’re the best one, ever.

love, raspberry

but because nothing in here is true for some reason i never even met miss sundae in real life even though she had moved to san dieger.

a small detail that will change