Scourge and Transparency

The Rise and Fall of Advanced Social Journalism during the Early Twenty-First Century

Archive for January 2011

The Journey Into The Abyss

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It began in the downtown Hamilton bus station. My bags were packed, my boots tied tight and I took back a sample bottle of Tequila on my way to T-O. My mother had bought me several munchie foods, that I’d hope would last me west through Canada, and she also generously provided me with a 60 oz bottle of Alberta distilled Vodka with two sample shooter bottles of Tequila. I arrived at the Greyhound Toronto a couple hours before departure and when trying to upgrade my bus pass I was sucked into the biggest piece of confusing jargon and shit that would morph into a monster that attempted to devoir my trip mentality through to Saskatchewan. They said my pass could not be upgraded, but then, reneged and told me I could upgrade once I arrived in Winnipeg. The journey to this fair city would be long and dull with no apparent end in site. Like a trip to the cottage but seven times longer on a crowded bus with strangers and no lake to swim in when you get there. I noticed a typical crazy person at the bus station in Toronto while I was waiting. She wasn’t as nuts as the young man I had seen months earlier attempt suicide by drunkenly placing himself in the middle of Bay Street. This old lady was the “babbling-upset” type. She seemed like she probably owned a lot of cats and had some beefs with Jesus. When I almost fatally realized she would actually be traveling out of a metropolitan city (an area that seems to contain these types of insane degenerates) on the very bus I was taking I smiled at a most-likely lesbian that was also snickering at the crazy lady who was now repeating the words “God is cruel, God is so cruel to me.” This homosexual young girl would then become the infatuation of the first lag of my trip. Every long journey or unnecessarily boring period of time with the same people allows the young male mind to rank, categorize and finally fantasize about the attractive to moderately tolerable women around himself. She found it humorous that the lady walking past us was out of her mind and, of course, so did I. After all, if we could not laugh at people with worse problems than ourselves what would be the purpose of going on?

Written by shanedantimo

January 7, 2011 at 3:54 am