I made a new friend today on the bus. His names Herold, a name that just strikes me as quite Canadian, not in the classical hockey and Maple leaf way, but in the new Metro, immigrant, hodge podge, socialist Canadian way. In fact he is defiantly of some type of southern Asian decent, not sure what yet though, because I haven't asked. Harold said that he grew up in Vancouver, I believe him well enough because the beasters he smoked me up with is super legit.
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Dear reader, an interlude: you may be thinking, "Karrot: you delusional mother fuckah, GET OUT OF CANADA and stop imagining that you're in some stonner classic travel pic; you ain't Kummar bro!" Fear not though, my consciousness is still my own and I'm keeping it real, Harold is for real too and if you guys want some of those beasters he told me he has an east coast importer who is for real. Drop me a line, I'll hook it up.
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I'm super excited about the book i picked up; Huck Finn is way better than i ever would have thought. Complete departure from the Russian depressing vain I had been in. The boyish outlook on new land, quite different from my home, is a good mirror to what BC should be for me. Miranda is only two days away!
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This blogs about the life and times of one Karrot. Its about growing roots and stems and hard skin, all while maintaining a satisfying taste and, well, Krunch. My interests include the following: Women, Ladies, Girls, drugs, metaphysics, religious experiences, religion, money, and gangsta ass shit.
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