A Fresh Voice. A Willing Ear. A more collaborative White Rock for us all.

On October 20th Vote Jeffery Simpson for White Rock City Council.

Stage One Complete

We have pulled down the first flag and beaten the first Bowser.  "Sorry Mario the Princess is in another castle," so we will press on in the morning.  Currently we're at my parents' new apartment in Vancouver.  It's got that nice new fresh paint smell that I've had to put up with over the past few days at work, so it's all good for making my sore throat and headache worse.

Tomorrow we head to the airport early, like 5 am, and rendevous with the rest of the wedding guests.  I guess we're all flying on the same flight, so everyone is going to be sitting together or something.  Goodness knows.

We then travel laterally across Canada, hitting Edmonton and Calgary, before jamming downwards to Cuba.  I suppose there's no stopping in the United States, unless the revolution happens.  Either way I should be covered since I'm wearing the new KGB watch I bought off of eBay.  It's perpetual motion, and it'll show that I'm a true friend of the revolution and the peoples parties.

Other than that there's not much to say.  I've got two notebooks, which I think I already mentioned, and I'll be jotting down the stupid thoughts that enter my head.  I have one address to send postcards to, so Michelle Smith gets lucky and gets all the post cards I buy.  Good job Michelle on getting me your address.

"I'm a winner, I'm a driver."

Other than that I'm tired.  I didn't get to go to Golden Age the comic book store in Vancouver, and so I'm also cranky.  I didn't even get to read the comic books I bought in Vernon today, since by the time I got to my parents' house in Kelowna they were in the full flight panic, hustling us out the door.  Hurry up and wait was the game today, as we arrived at the airport with lots of time to be told that our flight was cancelled.

I hope that nothing changes while I'm gone.  Except maybe the store burns down, or Bush chokes on a bagel bite.  We should send him a care package of pretzels and cross our fingers, and hope to save the world.


You've got too much to wear on your sleeves.