The Vickers of Darrell Take a Jaunty Journey

Let’s face it; we live in hyper-reactive times. The teensiest trespass against us sets off radical, volcanic transmogrifications that make The Incredible Hulk look like a big green pussy. Spit-flecked invective and throbbing temple veins are instantly marshaled to man the pike-staffed ramparts of our fury, should our McNuggets fail to be brought forth in a timely manner. Mistrust and intolerance swirl around us like Carol Doda’s nipple tassels in a seedy Frisco supper club. Compromise and empathy have become about as appetizing as Planter’s Wart or Rob Schneider.

Roxanne Tellier – Looking Through A Glass Onion

See how the other half lives. It’s good to go away, and it’s lovely to come back. I have a new respect for where and how I live, as well as a new outlook on the miracle of flight. I’m not saying I lost my fear of flying, I’m just saying my fear and I have come to a better understanding.

JAIMIE VERNON – MY SUMMER HOLIDAY 1975 – PART 1

For those remotely following along at home you may know that my current day gig is to impersonate a security guard at cemeteries around Toronto. On Sunday and Monday nights I’m usually assigned to Pine Hills in Scarborough. Many of my relatives are buried there as I’ve posted most recently in acknowledging my mother’s mother’s 100^th birthday.

JAIMIE VERNON: THE HARLEM GLOBETROTTER

I’ve been posting a steady stream of travel pictures on Facebook both for posterity and to entertain the millions of ‘friends’ I have online who might be tired of my abrasive and often hostile status updates. From these postings came comments from people who dream of traveling or visiting such exotic places as Flin Flon, Manitoba or South Bend, Indiana.