"Julia Roberts" by Andrew Menzies

[Ed. Note: While I've taken a break from writing for this blog for a bit, Andrew Menzies has brought us another guest article!]

I’m twenty-six now. I don’t recommend it.

My early twenties were okay. No one expects much out of you when all you’ve got is a barely-legitimate art school degree, twenty thousand dollars in student loan debt and a pipedream of someday writing for the talkies. I know this because my sister wrote it in my twenty-second birthday card. (I may be embellishing.)

Most nights in which I partake in the holy spirits end the same way: sad-sack walk a great distance. Tunes. Cigarette. Ride the train a great distance. Grab the free paper to check my horoscope. Cigarette. Second, final sad-sack walk a great distance. Alley. Cigarette. Door. Shoes off. Bed.

The highlight of this year’s birthday came when it was revealed that both my friend Graeme and I were stupid enough to each pay three bucks for a Bic lighter because it had a sticker of our favourite hockey team on it. Now this may be the outstanding memory solely due to the toxins in my body at the time. (Tends to cloud the brain.) But truth be told, other than reaffirmation that if it‘s shiny and costs less than five bucks, I’ll buy it, I don’t recall much of the night of my twenty-sixth. Sure, the usual vague flashes of disappointment, but it was mostly terror; though that can be blamed on the impromptu Burnaby gear run at midnight. There’s something about crouching in the back of a van with ten C-stands jamming into your back while a light box encases your seat-mate like a shitty, dangerous tent: every lane change on the highway feels like it’s going to be your last. Thank Christ everyone agreed with “Operation: Soft-Serve”, and we were able to liberate a couple of sundaes from the golden arches. (Cause nothing goes better with a stomach full of whiskey, Jager, cheap beer and THC than pasteurized dairy!)

I know I’m young. I know thirty is young. I know forty is young. I also know long division, but if you’ve ever watched me sit down and try to file my tax return, you’ll understand what I mean when I say there’s a lot of things we claim we “know” and a lot of things we assume to be current on just because at one point in time, the notion was briefly explained to us.

Long story short, I‘ve seen “The Graduate” twice in the last month.

(1:22 in the AM. Pacific Standard Time. This is where things get dicey.)

I don’t care what anyone says: Elton John is a badass.

There’s gotta be some great punk cover of “Hungry Heart” that’s out there just waiting for me to find it.

Radiohead released a new record this week. That’s cool. I was looking for a new album to fall asleep to.

(Joke remix!)

Bright Eyes released a new record this month. That’s cool. I was looking for a new album to play while I softly cried into the latest issue of Vice, ruining the menthol cigarette I had written an ex-girlfriend’s name on that was also being used as a bookmark.

Keep your dicks in your pants. Both albums are great.

Stay safe, kids.

[Ed. Note: As always, Andrew has his own project over at http://www.bobandandrew.com/ where he makes a webseries and you should check that out too!]