notes from coastal island explorations, volume one :
Met a guy who up and quit speaking 7 or 8 years ago. He apparently used to be a very angry, aggressive person. My impression of him was a gentle, friendly character, who communicates through charades and sound effects. Conveniently, his name is Bob, which lends itself perfectly to the nickname Silent Bob. He's got a small dog named Kiss Kiss, which of course is meant to be pronounced through a double serving of the kiss noise.
After arriving late at night in Courtenay and heading straight to an abandoned mill party, came back after dawn to the party organizers house. Drank beer all afternoon; by 2am everyone had passed out except little old insomniac me. I decided not to sleep in the tent that had been set up out back for me and went to get my sleeping bag to crash on the couch. Some kind of weird shadow seemed to be moving in the tent, thought I was experiencing sleep deprivation hallucinations, but checked anyways by rolling a big medicine ball towards it. Whatever it was, it charged me - looked like some kind of black dog. But this was a totally sealed tent ... to date, one of the creepiest demon-type encounters I've ever had.
Tried a single, small bump of what passes for coke around here. It certainly wasn't, my guess would be some kind of freebase, baking soda concoction. Spent an hour of the mill party curled up outside by the van, with horrible stomach pains.
Just Plain Weird
Got dragged along to a Logging Sports Fair in Campbell River by my friend and host. Coincidentally, both her father and boyfriend (who hadn't met before) were in the beer gardens, getting wasted together. I proceeded to watch them get to the point of falling down, alternating between telling one another how much they loved them, and threatening to beat each other down. After the father left, she got mad at him for calling him 'Dad', they got in a huge fight, he started crying, and I was left for two hours on my own. Did I mention how little I care for logging sports?
Luckily, I was saved by the arrival of Crimson Reign, the blistering four-piece cover metal band. Evidently they know enough concerning synchronicity to wait three songs into their set before clobbering the crowd over its collective head with their take on The Ace Of Spades.