1. I love lucid

    A friend of mine has been ranting about lucid dreaming (becoming aware of when you’re dreaming and taking control). He told me that the most important step is to ask yourself if you’re dreaming throughout the day, even if you know you’re not. I’ve being doing this once an hour or so for the last few days. Last night I was in my room reality checking, when I realized that I was actually dreaming! I remember my blinds being purple and my room being freezing, but other than that everything was normal. The Golden Girls, which I was watching before bed, was still playing. I remember sitting up and watching the show for a few minutes. I knew the possibilities of being in a dream realm were endless, but I was content wrapped-up tightly watching an unfamiliar episode of the Golden Girls. Covered in blankets and feeling tired, I decided to take a little nap. I woke-up in the morning (1pm) back in reality. I will not tell my friend about this lucid dream. 

  2. Then it struck me that his eyes were asking a question. A sexual question. #tejucole #Opencity (at Matchstick Coffee Roasters)

  3. Thanks Sissydude!


    (via SISSYDUDE HOTTIE #5 : Q & A with ALEX BROWN!)

    When was the last time you cried?

    A young gay youth who I’ve been working with closely for a couple years hung himself shortly after I moved to Vancouver. I cried because he killed himself, but also because I knew how lonely he was, and how hard that must have been. When I found out he was gone I felt like Sly Stallone in the movie Cliffhanger after he drops his wife and watches her fall to her death. I may not have been there to watch him go down, but, like, I can still feel myself letting him go.

    How often do you masturbate?

    It used to be everyday and then for a long time it was almost never. I found that, like an old married couple, I had to schedule time for romance to really keep my passion for me alive. At the start of my week I think about my schedule and slot a few sessions in where I might have some spare. What? I’m a Virgo.

    Do you have bad habits?

    My day is just an assembly line of bad habits, really. One that stands out, I suppose, is the pulling out of individual beard hairs when I’m nervous and flicking them on the floor.

    READ THE WHOLE ALEX Q&A @ Sissydude.com


  4. Ultiswaythems

    I used to think that it was only delusional people who claimed, “anybody who knows me either loves me or hates me" but that may not be the case. In theory, it’s a crazy thing to say, because:  a) the person you’re talking to clearly doesn’t love you as you’re still explaining your personality, or b) you’re chatting at that moment so that person knows you don’t hate them. Therefore, using this statement is strategic, like an ultimatum of sorts. As it exits the mouth you can practically see the words jumbling-up together, forming 90’s 3D art, that when focused on reveal the words: EVERYBODY HAS ALREADY CHOSEN. So you choose. And of course you’re not picking hate! No way, hate is exhausting. You’d have to remove them from your social networking sites, cruise party guest lists to make sure they were never attending the same events and poison all of your friends against them. That’s a lot of work!! If you don’t hate them then you’re forced to feel love by default, and as everybody knows. ‘default love’ is just one small step away from ‘I’ll settle for it let’s spend eternity together love’, which you’ll undoubtedly feel soon enough.   

    So just like that, your heart has been played by somebody with absolutely zero acquaintances. And while this may sound awful at first, should your union result in marriage, you can probably expect loads of wedding gifts from all the people who were at one point also forced to choose.  

  5. Changing this lightbulb was the hardest ever. #handymanic


  6. Beard Breast and Beyond

    Beards are pretty mainstream at the moment and that’s fine with me ‘cause there was a time when the hair on my face used to illicit filthy looks and rude comments.  Everybody seems to dig beards now, and that’s kind of a weird feeling. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a woman with a really great pair of breasts? It must be! You could be wearing a great outfit, have the perfect bangs or flawless skin and still, the one thing people will comment on/notice is your beard. Striking up a conversation with somebody at the bar will surely lead to stares squarely at your “facial hairea” and it almost gets to a point where you’re like, “hello, eyes up here, mister.” And the ogling doesn’t stop when you get back to the bedroom, no…that’s when their true intentions are revealed. Sexual partners are eager to get their hands on your beard and often do so within the first 3 seconds of a kiss. They awkwardly mishandle it, clench it and play with your facial hairs roughly—like they have no idea it’s attached to a human. Unlike breasts, it will probably probably never be taboo to comment on somebodies beard, and although it sounds like I’m complaining, I’m actually pretty happy about that. I mean, this hair on my face is basically all i have to offer, so come buy me a drink and tell me i’m special…i don’t mind 



  7. Homebody Issues

    Many people develop body issues from seeing too many unrealistic/ perfect bods cast in television and movies, and while I don’t disagree, I’d like to focus on an equally pressing issue that is near and dear to my heart: unrealistic living spaces for young adults in television and film. I say fuck how people look, where they live can be far more misleading and damaging. Remember growing-up and watching young adults work retail but live in the most fantastic loft ever? I sure do. Kids everywhere see this and assume that they’ll fly from their parents nest to an exposed brick, spiral staircase starter home in the city…. It’s an outrage! Do you know when I was 21 I moved five times in one year looking for sitcom worthy pad? I had spent so many years imagining what my first apartment would look like based on what I’d seen on TV that I couldn’t adjust to a regular living arrangement. I can’t even begin to describe the depression that resulted from knowing that nobody id seen on tv would ever hang out at my house. I  just felt like such an outsider. :( 

    I’m going to pepper the networks with petitions demanding they show bachelor apartments with parquet flooring and sheets for curtains or they’ll loose my viewership for good. Lets just hope they spring into action before they find out that I’m so old, I stream everything anyways  and don’t even have cable..

  8. bbsittin legs

  9. Self care


  10. Half and Half Smiles

    I’m in love with a barista at my coffee shop, which is odd since he’s not particularly handsome and we never say much to each other. I think it’s the way he moves his face, honestly. I’m sure to get a half-smile as I drop my change into his tip jar. Half-smiles are the sexiest thing you can do with your face as they’re the perfect combination of appreciation and withholding bastard. I think that faces are connected to your heart like one of those marionette puppets. Simple movements like a furrowed brow, wink or flared nostril are all connected to specific parts of your heart, making it dance with joy or keeping it slumped over and lifeless. Each time my barista raises his little halfer he is essentially pulling up a portion of my heart, leaving it tilted and curious. I guess a full crush develops with a facial combo, like say… pull the left up with a half-smile and raise the right with an all-too-innocent double blink. When I receive one of these I’ll know his true intentions and make my move.

    Although, there is always the possibility that I just like him because I get to boss him around and I have weird power/ control issues. Meh, either way I guess.

  12. Grandma Yetta and I  

  13. The first couple days of autumn in Vancouver were real wet like I knew they would be. Initially I enjoyed this; every trip outside felt like a new opportunity for that rainy Spiderman kiss, or to do Britney Spears’ Overprotected water dance. For large portions of the day everybody is wet, and for a while, it all feels very romantic. Strangers are drawn together by the rain: you stand closer than usual as you huddle under shelter, people invite you to share their umbrella and solidarity looks are exchanged by cuties who are also wearing a ruined pair of suede shoes. It’s the perfect environment to find love, honestly. Although, walking a few blocks with a stranger on a rainy Vancouver day is so crazy that you’ll probably need to preface any type of interaction with,”I have to warn you, I’ve heard relationships based on intense experiences never work" a la Keanu and Bullock from the movie Speed. Each day really did feel like an unpredictable adventure.

    This all goes away though. It’s hard to explain what long periods of rainy weather can do to your mental health. It’s like God (any god’ll do) is inflicting the whole city with some sort of Chinese Water Torture. At first you feel fine (meh, things could be worse) but after awhile you can think of nothing more than how each drop feels like a lit cigarette being pressed against your face and body. But if this is god’s doing, then why water torture us Vancouverites? Is he trying to extract some information only known by us or is he making us insane for past mistakes?  I’m new here, so I have yet to figure it out, but until the day I can come home with dry feet, you can find me Jennifer Love Hewitting to the sky yelling “Make it stop, What are you waiting for?”, which is just our generations version of The Rain Dance, really.

  14. looky here

  15. A tray from my work! Basically my whole childhood (Taken with Instagram)