Prologue - Complete!

Well, it's been long and arduous. All this writing about myself for you jerks to probably just glance at and forget. I'm still glad I put it all out there, showing what I went through with all of you. I've been through hell, and sure, not everything was explained in pure detail because there are some things I wish to be kept to myself. Not that I have anything against you meat sacks, but because there are experiences in life that you cherish and loathe, and those are yours to live. You should understand, unless you're fucking retarded. Which is probably true. Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for reading or even following me up to this point, I know it's been long and I haven't been the one to shorten my essay-length posts but still, it all had heart. Everything I said here has meaning and I hope it helps you in any way possible. If you become a serial killer, just promise me one thing. Don't touch my hair. There's many more things for me to experience in life, and a million ways to do so. I don't know what's set out for me or what I will find, but I'm going to press forward with an open mind and an empty stomach.


If you wanted to know what happened after that whole mess in Mississauga with my brother, I came back to Toronto and applied at this sandwich shop. Reggie's. It was terrible, probably the worst move I ever made. I became 'supervisor' there in about 3 months and barely got a raise. The owner was a complete retard, spewing gibberish because we could never understand her terrible Scottish accent. She sounded like a duck trying to yodel. It made my ears bleed once I swear. Anyways, I tried trekking onward, focusing on the money factor since I really needed it, but then this fat cow who was her second hand, Hannah, began to piss me the fuck off. She slowly started to care less and do less, and the one day I caught her in the act, she blew her fat hole. Basically, she told the boss, the boss yelled at me, I destroyed both of their faces and slowly walked out of the store while it exploded. I rushed all this mainly because I could care less, it's a part of my life that had no meaning what so ever. Sure I met some cool people and still talk to the now ( YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARDS), but it was almost like I worked for nothing. I didn't gain any knowledge, and I was surrounded by fuck tarts who drink, do drugs and sleep with their whore girlfriends. I'm glad to have left and I'm even more glad to have told off some of them, because they need a good gunshot to the face but apparently that's illegal.

Whatever, all that's behind me now and I have a new path I'm set on. Coming this January, I will start my new journey to becoming a great chef, and no its not that shitty ass resolution bullshit that fat people and smokers try to live by because they think we're all stupid fucks and believe a thing they say. I have friends and family who are behind me no matter what, and that means a lot. From being a spineless fuck with a shitty girlfriend, to a depressed emo dick chin, to Mr. Olympia, to a new found cook. Transition is a bitch, and it makes you smell like poo, but that doesn't matter because I have goals now, I have plans for myself that I never thought of before. I want to do things that other people never attempt because of fear of failure. I don't care if I run into a wall, because all I have to do is climb it and follow a new route. Life is about trial and error, especially when it comes to a career path. You can't assume you're going to be the world's greatest and not put any time into it. Working at a pickle barrel is not going to help me in any way possible. I'm not saying I need to work in the best of kitchens but I need to work in places with soul. Something that has it's own identity. Not a place that has brown fucks cooking Thai and French and Polish and German and American cuisine. That's just dumb. So this is it for my back story, I hope you enjoyed reading it as I have writing it. From now on I will update my blog with posts of whatever, but it will always be grade AWESOME material. This was the beginning, and it only gets better from here. Until next time, keep it real. Word to your mother.