"say I am wonderful"
-Gary Go
Apparently I forgot about this. Sorry. I work 95 hours a week and make no money. Sorry bitches.
Little bit of an update:
- I hate this town with a passion
- Starbucks keep forgetting about my raise. Hence the no money thing
- There are very few gay men in this town. And none with any actual grasp on the real world.
- There isn't enough vodka. Ever. I drank all of it. And need more. Much more.
All the vodka makes me wonderful. I mean seriously. I dance, and sing, and remind my grandparents that I want a puppy everyday. In other news, Edmonton should be ready for me come next March. Cause I'll be there for sure.
This is a quick update because it is 1 And I need sleep soon.
Namaste motherfuckers.
-Brennan
Saturday, 16 June 2012
Friday, 4 May 2012
Toy Soldiers
"I will love you like goodbye, I will love you like you died, died a martyr for me."
Just an update on my last few weeks I suppose. I moved. Across the province. From a city of 1.1 million people to a town of 55 000 people. Needless to say, I am not very excited about this.
Goodbyes are difficult. Especially when the people you are saying goodbye to are the ones you love the most. They are your closest friends, your co-workers, your family. I was not excited about that. Too many tears were shed, and my iPod on shuffle made it so that I would not forget that I was moving. Every sad song in the world came on during that 8 hour trip.
Apparently I thought this move would end up with sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everywhere. Instead it has been cloudy, rainy, and a shit storm or bad things. I mean, honestly, being around the people I grew up with can be awesome. On the other hand, it's the exact reason I left.
I just need to adjust to living with rednecks who hate the gays. This is my life for the next 355 days.
Namaste
Brennan
Just an update on my last few weeks I suppose. I moved. Across the province. From a city of 1.1 million people to a town of 55 000 people. Needless to say, I am not very excited about this.
Goodbyes are difficult. Especially when the people you are saying goodbye to are the ones you love the most. They are your closest friends, your co-workers, your family. I was not excited about that. Too many tears were shed, and my iPod on shuffle made it so that I would not forget that I was moving. Every sad song in the world came on during that 8 hour trip.
Apparently I thought this move would end up with sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everywhere. Instead it has been cloudy, rainy, and a shit storm or bad things. I mean, honestly, being around the people I grew up with can be awesome. On the other hand, it's the exact reason I left.
I just need to adjust to living with rednecks who hate the gays. This is my life for the next 355 days.
Namaste
Brennan
Sunday, 15 April 2012
Somebody That I Used To Know
"But I don't want to live that way, reading into every word you say" -Gotye
So, allow me to elaborate on my past week or so.
Last weekend I participated in the Western Cup. It is, "North America's longest running multisport LGBT event" An event indeed. I curled in played volleyball. Too much exercise for a fat kid. Just saying. It is also a weekend for the gays of Calgary to become rowdy, sleazy, and athletic. Great times.
I definitely drank far too much. However, that is the point of this thing. The bars throughout the city must know to stock up. My knees were severely bruised and cut from playing volleyball with pads that were sub par. I was in so much pain I couldn't walk... Until I got to drinking. After my final curling game on Friday night, we decided it would be a great idea to allow me to get drunk and go to the local bear bar. This night ended up in me, conservative little me, getting into a cage, and allowing men to view me almost crying. Drunk Brennan cries. He either laughs so hard he cries, gets emotional, or is so scared he cries. This night included the last. I then ended up on a pool table in my underwear. I will not delve into that one at all.
After all was said and done, I got dressed, and left for home. Not knowing where my car was. It was at the curling rink, and I did not drive at all. Thank god for that. The next morning, at our 8 am curling game, the looks and stories and words were all of an awkward nature. I tell myself now that this won't happen again. Let's be honest, next year will be the same.
So, allow me to elaborate on my past week or so.
Last weekend I participated in the Western Cup. It is, "North America's longest running multisport LGBT event" An event indeed. I curled in played volleyball. Too much exercise for a fat kid. Just saying. It is also a weekend for the gays of Calgary to become rowdy, sleazy, and athletic. Great times.
I definitely drank far too much. However, that is the point of this thing. The bars throughout the city must know to stock up. My knees were severely bruised and cut from playing volleyball with pads that were sub par. I was in so much pain I couldn't walk... Until I got to drinking. After my final curling game on Friday night, we decided it would be a great idea to allow me to get drunk and go to the local bear bar. This night ended up in me, conservative little me, getting into a cage, and allowing men to view me almost crying. Drunk Brennan cries. He either laughs so hard he cries, gets emotional, or is so scared he cries. This night included the last. I then ended up on a pool table in my underwear. I will not delve into that one at all.
After all was said and done, I got dressed, and left for home. Not knowing where my car was. It was at the curling rink, and I did not drive at all. Thank god for that. The next morning, at our 8 am curling game, the looks and stories and words were all of an awkward nature. I tell myself now that this won't happen again. Let's be honest, next year will be the same.
Sunday, 1 April 2012
Einstein
"No problem can be solved from the same consciousness that created it" -Albert Einstein.
There are days when not being in school pisses me off beyond belief. To the point that it is driving me bat shit crazy. And it is also causing some pretty crazy shit in my personal life. While my closest friend get ready to walk the stage this year in their own convocations, what do I have to show for the past 3 years post-grad? Absolutely fuck all.
Sure I scored 2310 on the SATs and also finished writing an entrance exam to a prestigious medical school in Poland, to which I was shortlisted. But really? What have I become? Certainly not the man I wanted to be when I thought of what my life would be like when I was 16.
5 years ago, I didn't even really know what I wanted to do. And now I am seriously just thinking "Fuck it. I'll go live in random countries for a year at a time, and see what the hell this ridiculous world has to offer." New Zealand is looking pretty damn great. As is Poland, Ukraine, Switzerland, Austria, Ireland, Kenya, and last, and certainly not least, Brazil.
While this may scare the living shit out of me, I am debating this like crazy. New Zealand has some pretty nutso people. They surf, they jump off of bridges, go hang gliding, and live with more sheep than people. These guys seem pretty cool. Plus, the accents. My dear Jesus, the accent would drive me up the wall swooning. Can I see myself going bungee jumping? Probably not, would I do it? FUCK YES
So, after basically sabotaging my own relationship today, with a guy that has fewer quirks than expected... Other than loving Bieber, One Direction, and the Kardashian's, I feel like ass. So I am looking into moving across the world, swearing off sex, and also finding my own peace. The guy will still be there. He always is. He is too nice to me, and all I want him to do is beat the shit out of me and tell me I am fucktard. Cause I am.
Canada just makes me angry. By angry, I mean I make Hiroshima-Nagasaki look like a wet firecracker.
Plus, they have curling clubs in New Zealand. I would kick some ass.
Who knows, I'll probably be stuck slinging lattes for the next 40 years. I'll retire with my three dogs, named Mojito, Martini, and Sangria. I'm an alcoholic.
Namaste
Friday, 30 March 2012
Slumber
"Hearts are stronger after broken; wake on up from your slumber, open up your eyes." -Needtobreathe
My homeboys, Needtobreathe, always seems to have a song for the way I feel. The above quote may not actually describe the way I am feeling right now, however, there is a line in the song "Slumber" that makes me miss my best friend at this very moment.
After an afternoon of watching "Being Erica", I have come to the conclusion that I have a lot of "regrets." By regrets, I mean "things-that-could-have-gone-better." Not so much as to say that I would change them if given the chance; Lord knows I would definitely light my back on fire, and pick up some sketchy guy from the Downtown Tim's to party with us again.
Regret is a pretty strong word. Our past has helped shape who we are now. Not to say that it is all we are, but it made, at least, a small contribution. Now, if I could change my high school grades, or who I lost my virginity to (don't ask, he's still closeted), I would. If I could go back, tell Laura I loved her one last time, or give Kylie another hug, or tell my grandmother the very things I should have, I would.
Alas, I cannot. I must learn to live with the consequences of my actions, or lack thereof. Life goes on, and so must we. Those that live in the past cannot be happy with their present circumstances.
So, if I could give you one bit of advice, make amends, tell your mom you love her, give your best friend a hug.
Tomorrow may not come.
Namaste.
My homeboys, Needtobreathe, always seems to have a song for the way I feel. The above quote may not actually describe the way I am feeling right now, however, there is a line in the song "Slumber" that makes me miss my best friend at this very moment.
After an afternoon of watching "Being Erica", I have come to the conclusion that I have a lot of "regrets." By regrets, I mean "things-that-could-have-gone-better." Not so much as to say that I would change them if given the chance; Lord knows I would definitely light my back on fire, and pick up some sketchy guy from the Downtown Tim's to party with us again.
Regret is a pretty strong word. Our past has helped shape who we are now. Not to say that it is all we are, but it made, at least, a small contribution. Now, if I could change my high school grades, or who I lost my virginity to (don't ask, he's still closeted), I would. If I could go back, tell Laura I loved her one last time, or give Kylie another hug, or tell my grandmother the very things I should have, I would.
Alas, I cannot. I must learn to live with the consequences of my actions, or lack thereof. Life goes on, and so must we. Those that live in the past cannot be happy with their present circumstances.
So, if I could give you one bit of advice, make amends, tell your mom you love her, give your best friend a hug.
Tomorrow may not come.
Namaste.
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
Who You Are
"Seeing is deceiving, dreaming is believing; it's okay not to be okay."
Allow me to get a little sappy here. This is a total change of pace for me. Normally I am either bitter, or complaining, or whatever-the-fuck emotion I am feeling. Alas, my pace is getting a pace-lift.
I have noticed that society is all about "self-help" or constant "self-improvement". This irks me a little bit (read: drives me bat-shit-crazy).
In a world where everyone is so individualistic, and so unique, the need to conform is high. Fuck that. I don't want to be "normal". I want to be whoever the hell I decide. If I wake up at 7 and have a shot of tequila, deal with it. So many people are thrust into this realm of conformity and being "not good enough." Who says you're not perfect, just as you are? If we were all the same, what would I have to botch about? Fuck all.
So, kid in the closet, I don't bitch about you; I fucking salute you. Those walls you built are mighty tall. Break em down. You gotta do it at some point. Because the truth is, it will not help in the long run.
To the lady with a problem getting your seatbelt around your waist, don't ever be ashamed. Each pound tells a story of pain, I am sure. Every kilogram a memory of something lost, or something that you have been looking for, but have never found.
To the woman who is struggling to make ends meet, but still has the cutest kids, and the heart to tell them it's gonna be alright, I love you.
Namaste,
This time I mean it in its literal sense.
Brennan
Allow me to get a little sappy here. This is a total change of pace for me. Normally I am either bitter, or complaining, or whatever-the-fuck emotion I am feeling. Alas, my pace is getting a pace-lift.
I have noticed that society is all about "self-help" or constant "self-improvement". This irks me a little bit (read: drives me bat-shit-crazy).
In a world where everyone is so individualistic, and so unique, the need to conform is high. Fuck that. I don't want to be "normal". I want to be whoever the hell I decide. If I wake up at 7 and have a shot of tequila, deal with it. So many people are thrust into this realm of conformity and being "not good enough." Who says you're not perfect, just as you are? If we were all the same, what would I have to botch about? Fuck all.
So, kid in the closet, I don't bitch about you; I fucking salute you. Those walls you built are mighty tall. Break em down. You gotta do it at some point. Because the truth is, it will not help in the long run.
To the lady with a problem getting your seatbelt around your waist, don't ever be ashamed. Each pound tells a story of pain, I am sure. Every kilogram a memory of something lost, or something that you have been looking for, but have never found.
To the woman who is struggling to make ends meet, but still has the cutest kids, and the heart to tell them it's gonna be alright, I love you.
Namaste,
This time I mean it in its literal sense.
Brennan
Ready or Not
"Here I come, I'm about to show you where the light comes from." - Britt Nicole
My life thus far has been filled with joy, sorrow, and far too much vodka. The most important being the vodka. Being a Polish-Canadian, vodka has had a huge impact on my life.
I wear my heart on my sleeve. Why, you ask? Because, simply put, it's honest. People who try to hide what they're truly feeling piss me off to no end. If you aren't okay, don't tell me you are. On the other hand, however, I also get why this is so hard for people. If you don't want to describe why you're angry, sad, in a murderous rage, or any other menopausal or PMS-esque fit, then don't. Please don't blow up on me when I say something is wrong... Fuck, you make it so obvious.
I'm a gay man. This doesn't define me... However, it does offer a little bit of insight as to why I am so psychotic. The gays confuse me. In a community that has suffered from so much oppression from the outer realms of lifestyles, why the fuck is there so much segregation between individual groups in our community?! Legit. I may not want to get married to a drag queen, but if they want to be a drag queen all the power to them.
(I know this has somewhat turned into a rant. I'm bitter, bite me motherfuckers)
I work at Starbucks. I cannot go one single day without it. It is the source of my happiness, and my misery. It provides me with money (albeit not much) and free coffee. What's wrong with that, right? Everything. I slave away, slinging lattes for those who believe they are entitled to everything and anything, simply because they are breathing. Fuck you.
I'm catholic. Oxymoron, right? Probably. I am not sure how I feel about it... However, it is one thing that has remained constant since my infant baptism, and nothing else has ever held true.
I am a firm believer that every person has a place in this world. A purpose. Even if that purpose is to make me feel like shit while making your venti nonfat no water 180 degree, no foam, light whip Tazo Chai. I fight for the acknowledgement of suicide being a major crisis in this world. Hope is real. Help is real. Your story is important.
I have known far too many people to have committed suicide... 8 to be exact. Having suffered from depression and having suicidal thoughts, as well as attempting to take my own life 3 times in the coming out process, this strikes home.
Music is my fortress. This seems pretty cliche, but no matter what someone says to me, I think of a song for the statement. It's my own OCD complex. If I cannot think of a song, I look for one. My hours spent listening to random songs by the most obscure artists has allowed this to become a reality.
So that is me. Kind of. There is so much more to me. But that's all you really need to know. This is only the tip of the iceberg... Brace yourselves, betches.
Namaste
My life thus far has been filled with joy, sorrow, and far too much vodka. The most important being the vodka. Being a Polish-Canadian, vodka has had a huge impact on my life.
I wear my heart on my sleeve. Why, you ask? Because, simply put, it's honest. People who try to hide what they're truly feeling piss me off to no end. If you aren't okay, don't tell me you are. On the other hand, however, I also get why this is so hard for people. If you don't want to describe why you're angry, sad, in a murderous rage, or any other menopausal or PMS-esque fit, then don't. Please don't blow up on me when I say something is wrong... Fuck, you make it so obvious.
I'm a gay man. This doesn't define me... However, it does offer a little bit of insight as to why I am so psychotic. The gays confuse me. In a community that has suffered from so much oppression from the outer realms of lifestyles, why the fuck is there so much segregation between individual groups in our community?! Legit. I may not want to get married to a drag queen, but if they want to be a drag queen all the power to them.
(I know this has somewhat turned into a rant. I'm bitter, bite me motherfuckers)
I work at Starbucks. I cannot go one single day without it. It is the source of my happiness, and my misery. It provides me with money (albeit not much) and free coffee. What's wrong with that, right? Everything. I slave away, slinging lattes for those who believe they are entitled to everything and anything, simply because they are breathing. Fuck you.
I'm catholic. Oxymoron, right? Probably. I am not sure how I feel about it... However, it is one thing that has remained constant since my infant baptism, and nothing else has ever held true.
I am a firm believer that every person has a place in this world. A purpose. Even if that purpose is to make me feel like shit while making your venti nonfat no water 180 degree, no foam, light whip Tazo Chai. I fight for the acknowledgement of suicide being a major crisis in this world. Hope is real. Help is real. Your story is important.
I have known far too many people to have committed suicide... 8 to be exact. Having suffered from depression and having suicidal thoughts, as well as attempting to take my own life 3 times in the coming out process, this strikes home.
Music is my fortress. This seems pretty cliche, but no matter what someone says to me, I think of a song for the statement. It's my own OCD complex. If I cannot think of a song, I look for one. My hours spent listening to random songs by the most obscure artists has allowed this to become a reality.
So that is me. Kind of. There is so much more to me. But that's all you really need to know. This is only the tip of the iceberg... Brace yourselves, betches.
Namaste
Monday, 26 March 2012
Introduction, and crap
"I do not stand on protocol. If you just call me Excellency, it will be okay." - Henry Kissinger.
Let's be serious. If you weren't born into royalty, and I certainly wasn't, absolutely no one will call you "Excellency."
With that out of the way, I'm Brennan. Now, this will change your life. I'm not exactly what one would consider "stable." I keep you on your toes, I find joy in the simple things, and find myself in some pretty complex emotional situations.
That being said, who the eff cares?
I'm your typical small town gay, living in a really crappy conservative city.
21, 6'1, brown hair, blue/green eyes... We don't need to go into the rest, but my current boyfriend likes to call me #hefty. The hashtag is to be included.
I feel as though I am trying to sell myself here. What is the point of that? Most people won't even give this blog a glance. Well, peace out to you mother fuckers. I'm fucking great. Don't like it, I don't give a flying rats rip.
So, with this, I conclude the introduction. Shitty start, I know. It's 12:34 am and I just worked an 8 hour shift slinging lattes for the overly conceited and holier-than-thou's of Calgary. Bite me.
Namaste,
Brennan
Let's be serious. If you weren't born into royalty, and I certainly wasn't, absolutely no one will call you "Excellency."
With that out of the way, I'm Brennan. Now, this will change your life. I'm not exactly what one would consider "stable." I keep you on your toes, I find joy in the simple things, and find myself in some pretty complex emotional situations.
That being said, who the eff cares?
I'm your typical small town gay, living in a really crappy conservative city.
21, 6'1, brown hair, blue/green eyes... We don't need to go into the rest, but my current boyfriend likes to call me #hefty. The hashtag is to be included.
I feel as though I am trying to sell myself here. What is the point of that? Most people won't even give this blog a glance. Well, peace out to you mother fuckers. I'm fucking great. Don't like it, I don't give a flying rats rip.
So, with this, I conclude the introduction. Shitty start, I know. It's 12:34 am and I just worked an 8 hour shift slinging lattes for the overly conceited and holier-than-thou's of Calgary. Bite me.
Namaste,
Brennan
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