Dave

Well, you always wanted me to write a blog about you. To write a story or an adventure that you were involved in. I'm not sure if it was because you wanted me to try and draw stick figures of you, or relay the stories of our intertwined lives.

I'm sure you hoped it would be funny, full of pictures and witty words, hoping people would see you the way I saw you. The funny, compassionate, caring, and very quirky gentleman you were, despite the odd choices you made in girlfriends, living situations and overall, your kinda crappy life choices. Yeah, yeah. Like I should talk. I know.

You were the first friend I made as an adult. Sorry, Aimee. You were friend number 2.

Dave was number 1. And not just as in a friend I made once I was legally an adult in the eyes of the Canadian government. You were the first friend I made when I'd decided to fuck everything, pack up all my shit in a van and tell my parents PEACE OUT, BITCHES! I'M MOVING TO ANOTHER CITY!!!!! 

You were the first friend I made when I broke out on my own, the first friend at my first grown up, full time job.

I got stuck with you to listen to calls on my second day of work. I felt like crap that day. I had food poisoning but since it was my second day and I really needed the job, I went to work anyway and just threw up a lot. You didn't care, well I'm sure you did care because throwing up absolutely disgusted you, but you pretended it didn't matter. You had your gross looking stress ball that looked like an old man's nut sack, and you were throwing it up in the air and offered it to me to distract me from all the puking.

Thanks for that. That ball was so foul looking. Seriously. 14.5 years later and I still just... I can't even.

You followed up with me to be sure I was understanding things. You sat near me because you knew I HATED asking people questions with a burning passion of 10,000,000 suns. This way I could ask you without having to involve anyone else.

You made adulting slightly easier, you made sure I succeeded at work, and you did your best to make sure I succeeded in life. Every crappy breakup I went through (and there were a lot of them), you were there to support me. When my dad died in one of the saddest ways (slow deterioration due to alcoholism), you were there. You listened to my rants about how stupid the situation was, and agreed that my dad should have tried harder to beat his demons.

We talked about practically everything. You were the big brother I wish I had. 

You'd state you hate the heat! 

No, wait. You hate the cold! 

No. The heat! 

The cold! 

Heat! 

Cold! 

It was too rainy, it wasn't rainy enough... How you'd like to move to Alaska. 

We'd talk about ghosts and horror movies and what we'd do in the face of an apocolypse.

You were suffering and you did your best to try not to have it affect me for so long. You were there for me whenever I needed it, all the while struggling with your own demons.

You hid your addictions from so, so many, and only started to face it when it brought the end of many personal relationships. You told me to just leave and forget you, to turn my back like so many had already. I didn't. You fought me, argued with me, accused me of the most ridiculous fucking things. You kept secrets from me and then you were angry when I didn't know them. You blamed your crappy spelling, your forgetfulness, your lack-of-sense-making ways on the dark, your computer keyboard, everything else but the truth. 

Then you started talking about how you saw things the way my dad did. How you finally understood.

Near the end, you talked in riddles. You'd explain your meaning eventually but sometimes I had no idea what was going on. And that's how it ended.

You talked in one final riddle and then you were gone. Leaving me here, with a riddle that will never be explained.

You died after sending me one final facebook message, without reading my response. My original response was, "are you drunk again?" but I erased it and re-wrote a different one.

You died in one of the saddest ways, following the path of the other most important Dave in my life, my father.

I will miss you, my beautiful friend. This is most definitely NOT awesome for me.

You were and always will be one of the most generous and selfless people I know, and I was lucky to have you in my life. I will miss you until the day I die.

For any of those that read my blogs, they will not always be sad, but sometimes sadness is necessary.

If you, or anyone you know, is struggling with an addiction of ANY kind, not just alcoholism, please please PLEASE read these words. I swear to you that I am telling you the truth. Even if it doesn't seem like it, even if you feel so lost and so desperate and alone that there's nothing but darkness. Please.

You ARE worth it. You ARE loved. You CAN beat this.

There are friends, family and even strangers willing to help you through this. Your life can be yours again.

You are the most unique you possible, and there is no one else out there like you. We need you here, we want you here, we believe in you.

You are stronger than you ever thought possible, and you are NOT alone.

Rest in peace, Dave. Your fight is done.

What I've learned from Pokémon Go

Before I even start, yes. I am a consumer whore. I fall into social traps on a regular basis, and when shit comes out that's super exciting and new and flashy, I almost always desperately want it. I blame my mother, who I'm fairly confident is 25% of the reason "The Shopping Network" is still a thing.

Anyways.

I'm sure you've all heard of Pokémon Go. If you haven't, go Google it, and then read up on it. I'm not giving you a breakdown to make up for your inability to keep up with massive trends that are overtaking the entire world. Seriously, this became more popular than PORN.

Let that sink in for a sec.

People (children and physically aged adults) are walking around (and potentially into traffic, offcliffs, or into stranger's houses) searching for fictional cartoon characters they can only see through their phone. They then "catch" these fictional characters by throwing balls, and if successful, the reward is a coloured character in your online character bank. THIS is more popular than the thrill of watching two (or more) people acting out scenes that we may fantasize about, but rarely ever admit to.

SO I've been at this for just over a month and am basically a Pokémon master. At the time of this writing, I am a level 24 trainer. Yeah. I have bragging rights. What I've learned from my extensive experience at Pokémon is:

1) Pokémon players respond faster than the police

Seriously. I wanted to see the response time of Pokémon players to lures, so I went to a park, found a spot that had no one around at all, and threw up a lure. Within 5 minutes there were 3 cars (with about 2 players each) 4 people sat down by the lure, and then another 8 people were wandering around pretending they weren't playing Pokémon (WE ALL KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!). 

So basically, if you're ever about to be raped/shanked/mugged/murdered, open Pokémon GO and add a lure to a nearby Pokéstop. You will have so many witnesses within a minute, the raping/shanking/mugging/murdering will stop so the offender can run off. Pokémon, faster response time than 9-1-1.

2) The creepy people in the dark alleys are just nerds

It used to be the rapists/shankers/muggers/murderers that we feared hiding in the dark alleys that we dared not venture down alone. Now it's a nerd, just like you, searching for a Bulbasaur. and if there are still rapists/shankers/muggers/murderers hanging out down there, they won't rape/shank/mug/murder you as there are at least 10-15 witnesses in the alley already, and of those 10-15, 4 could probably put up a fight.

3) It *IS* a gateway to communication!

I have talked to about 9 people I wouldn't have talked to if I wasn't playing Pokémon. My average communication with strangers is a pretty solid zero, because stranger-danger and such. Plus people make me uncomfortable. really uncomfortable. Since starting this game though, I've been more open to talking to random weirdos that mill around me, and haven't regretted it yet. I've met a lovely bearded fellow who makes shirts, some woman who pets her dog waaaaaay too aggressively (fur flies everywhere!), a random guy that yells out "SQUIRTLE!" for no reason and then laughs to himself, 3 kids that should have been at home at 12am, not pokémon hunting (but we were on the same team, so we coo'), and then 3 Asian folks. I mean, there's a large horde of people I guess I hang out with on a regular basis (we all awkwardly stand around in the same locations), but I don't communicate with them.

4) You can have a moment with a stranger (and 50% of you don't realize it happened)

I have caught several "rare" pokémon, and since I am generally alone, I have no one to share my joy. Generally this leads to me getting excited, trying to bottle my excitement, and then glancing around at all the other people around me to see if anyone else is excited. Sometimes I do find my lone wolf companion, the one that's caught the areodactyl and also has no one to express their joy with. Usually they're about 30 feet away from me, don't see I'm creepily staring at them, and don't sense my excitement that they understand how I feel. But I get you, fellow lone nerd. I get you.

To sum up, I think everyone should experience this game. I've seen young (like around 5 years old) to old (I really did see a 70+ yr old lady doing this) playing this game, and if you feel stupid doing it, just remember this:

80% of the people out there are just as stupid as you and are playing the game. The other 20% wish they were but don't have the balls you do.

You go get them, you Pokémaster. You go get them all (unless I get there first).

Cacao, The Devil’s Snack

I’m a big fan of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. If you haven’t watched it, go. Go now. Why are you wasting time reading this? There’s only 3 seasons, and each episode is like, 20 minutes long. You can get completely caught up in one weekend.

Did you watch it yet?

I’m assuming at this point you have, so we can continue. There’s an episode in season 3 where this happens:

He gets addicted to cacao nibs, because they’re A DELICIOUS SNACK! So, since I’m a consumer whore (and how!), I got curious. I got a bag of nibs. They looked harmless enough:

So let’s do this! This is how it went:

Ok, in they go…

Oh it’s not so… 

Wait..

What is happening?

WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO? THEY’RE IN MY MOUTH!!!!!

OH SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? I'M A GOOD PERSON (most of the time...)!!!

As Fry would say…

AND I HAVE AN ENTIRE BAG OF THEM! OH GOD!

What was I going to do?!?!?!?

Don't worry. I figured it out…

I convinced several co-workers to try them. How? They fell for the classic “Oh eff these are disgusting! HERE, TRY THEM!”

The consensus was pretty much the same…

So after all these years, I’ve finally reached that moment in my life where TV has lied to me, and I am devastated. But, as I believe in group suffering, I brought several others down with me.

Moral of the story:

Cacao nibs are the devil. 

Also, don’t trust me.

GO OUT AND TRY THEM NOW!!!!