EP2 'Vancouver and the Three Sea-Shells Complex (Demolition Man).'
Before I begin, here is a bit of background information on me, Benners: I don't like talking about myself much if I'm being totally honest, which I know must seem like total hypocrisy given I'm writing about my travels in this blog and indeed, planning to talk about myself for the next few paragraphs exclusively; but I assure you, I do this firstly because I've been asked to, and secondly because, truth be told, I feel a little homesick (mainly due to the language barrier I'm currently experiencing) and writing gives me a chance to connect with friends both old and new.
So I share my tales of woe and glory with the view only to making friends laugh and occasionally, ponder the big wide world. I don't sit here jerking my dick off about it or anything. My Degree is in a writing-based subject, but you'll not find any other blog written by me, ever; simply because until now I was content just sharing my stories with my amigos.
I certainly have no intention of trying to sound "cool", or "edgy", or "weird", or anything like that; these posts are literally just about things that happened to me on my travels, how I felt about certain situations and just whatever happens to be running through my my head as I'm sat at my Mac. I am genuinely 'like' what you are reading. I would be thinking the same thoughts and doing the same stuff whether you were reading or not. There is no hyperbolic bullcrap going on, although sometimes I do talk utter shit, it's true.
...these are just my lyrical-darts, poisoning paper, my mass intellect on show for y'all to tape-a, my ragged-bone shit forged in the slums that I escape-a, I ain’t interested in beef with fools and fuckin' hata's. And some other shit...
Plus writing this blog totally saves me having to tell the same story fifteen times, to umpteen different people on FaceTwat. Copy + Paste = cheating.
So anyways, Vancouver, B.C, Canada. My first night staying at Egg and Cathy's house. As they tucked me into bed on their very comfortable settee, they told me to "keep an eye out for racoons," I had never seen one before and I was eager to catch a glimpse of them in action. I'd been awake for more than 24hrs now (thank you Pro Plus) but I remember hearing them outside, they make a very recognisable sound – it's the sound of garbage being thrown about and fought over, unmistakeable it is; though eerily similar to the music of Deaf Havana. On this occasion I was too tired to get up and look out the window, had I have known how difficult it was going to be to catch another glimpse of the elusive critters, I'd have definitely braved the two metre stroll....
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