In progress
Because A Large Portion of the Population consists of: fat un-motivated un-happy slobs.
& WE WANT TO PROMOTE A POSTIVE CHANGE IN YOUR LIFE. That is the shortest and easiest of the reasons why. We really do want to promote a positive change to those who are serious about changing. If you are looking for a book with a lot of fluff and gentle persuasion; this is not the book for you. We believe the first way to promote this change is to stop the denial. “Donuts didn’t make you fat. Eating them did.” There are several others reasons why, which we would like to share with you. The first why; is because back in October 2003 while I was having lunch in Venice Italy, a overweight North American sitting at the table next to me said in an horrifically excruciating nails on the blackboard sort of way: “Atkins Diet. I am on the Atkins Diet.” At that precise moment in time, it became somewhat clear to me. Much like we shared our controversial views on the State of The World and Relationships in our critically acclaimed first release Seed’s Sketchy Relationship - A Guide to the Perils of Dating (how not to become a bar regular) we were now going to have to share our views with the world on the following topics: Fitness Fashion Lifestyle Those excruciating words spoken by that lady on that particular day made me realize how ridiculous the quick fix diet plans actually are. I realized; gone are the days of moderation and eating in a healthy balanced way has fallen by the wayside. To allow your diet to control the way that you make your life choices is absolutely ridiculous. In fact calling the food products that we consume every day a diet is part of the root of the whole problem to begin with. To continue with the answer of why? Here are some more reasons behind why; this book project came to be: Ÿ We enjoy Pizza Ÿ We enjoy Beer Ÿ We enjoy Hamburgers Ÿ We enjoy Steaks Ÿ We enjoy Pasta Ÿ We enjoy Coca Cola Ÿ We enjoy Milkshakes Ÿ We enjoy Cookies hmmm…… cookies. Ÿ We enjoy …….and the list goes on and on Ÿ We are not going to give up any of the above Ÿ There are no quick fixes or solutions. Ÿ Moderation is the key. The first statement is the original reason why this project came to be. North America & the World let us face it, is fat, borderline obese. However, the real why comes from our desire to change how things are and to reach the few people who have come to the point in their lives where they realize it is time to start to at least consider changing direction. That is right, when they come to realize that it is time to consider changing direction. I am not a big believer in free will (euro seed formerly known as german seed may be, and the other members of Seed Enterprises may be as well), by that I mean that the reason or reasons that you may have picked up this book in the first place falls into one of the following categories: 1. You have a general interest in fitness, fashion and health. 2. You may have let yourself go and you are looking for some help or perhaps a quick fix. 3. You are looking for a bit of comedy and you remember from previous Seed Enterprise Joints that comedy is our second name. It is fun calling our books joints it has a bit of a Spike Lee feel to it. 4. You are fat. Some of you only may be a little fat others may be the Biggest Loser, pastry eating, chicken devouring carnivore who has forgone eating off of a plate and has taken up a place next to the bovines in the barn at the trough for your daily feedings. At this point I would like to say I sure hope a bovine is a cow because that is what I think it is. If it is not then oh well I am sure it is big. 5. You got tired of being thrown back into the water by Green Peace. 6. Screw being the Biggest Loser - you have a desire to be a Bigger Winner. |
In progress The fall from the stars to the streets below can happen in a heartbeat!
Johnnie B I was riding in my car with Johnny B. This day was the first time I met Johnny. Johnny is a seemingly calm, native man, ponytail dangling. Before we’d travelled 12-city blocks, Johnny revealed he had done hard time. “You were incarcerated?” I asked, with subtle gentleness and great interest. “Can I ask what for?” “Yeah, I made some mistakes; no regrets. I did what I had to do.” “Go on,” I encouraged as I continued driving. “I came home from work one day; headed up to my room on the third floor. I laid out my goods: a bag a blow to the right, next to the blow, my rigs, on the left, five-spliffs, lined up in perfect order, I had cigarettes and cold ones in the fridge. I wanted to go up.” I was riveted. Johnnie continued, “I popped the cap off a beer, tilted back, took a swig, puffed and drew in the soothing death of nicotine. Toked, slammed a rig into my veins; instantaneously a warm rush of cocaine entered me as my climb began.” Johnnie went on, his eyes sparkled, as he relived his story, “I never missed work. I was a functioning addict. I had a variety of demons. Another toke, I looked down to the street below, a white van was parked there, two cretins, one large, balding, gruff, the other skinny and slimy, lowlifes. They were trying to force two girls into the back of a van.” “The girls were resisting.” “I slammed another rig into my arm, continued my climb, took another swig, and started my descent to the street below.” A deep breath and, “The slimy one passed me on my way out the door. He entered my building leaving the big guy alone. I turned around the back of the van and put my boots so far up his ass that they came out of his mouth. I blanked, and didn’t stop until his movement ceased. The girls thanked me and then ran away.” He wasn’t done, “I back stepped into my building. The other scumbag was in the communal washroom on my floor. I confronted him and did what I needed to do. He paid for his vile indiscretions.” “What did you do to him?” “I couldn’t recall. I blanked out as I shot for the stars above. Another smack, toke, swig, and puff; I headed down to the Sunrise Pub. At the Pub, I sat at the bar, blood staining my shirt and knuckles. I shot back scotch; swigged beers, the police arrived.” “Johnnie B; are you Johnnie B?” “They took me outside. Asked me where I lived, and then escorted me back to my place. The haze was beginning to lift. We climbed the stairs as I dropped from the sky. The slimy punk was a blooded mess. He was out cold; lying on the floor of my room was a butcher knife, blood was sprinkled, dripping everywhere. Next to the knife---a scalp, I did what needed to be done, no regrets. You don’t fuck with women.” “Did he, die?” “Unfortunately, no,” Johnny opened the car door and exited left. ============================================= “My girl said she loved me, Lindsay. She said I’m the one. I was content. I believed her.” Johnnie shared with me on another occasion. “What happened?” “She screamed out someone else’s name in her sleep. She moaned, writhed, and kept chanting the name.” Anger and sadness shared Johnnie’s expression; just as the sadness lowered him, it quickly turned to ire, fire blazed in his eyes, “Another name, Lindsay. I need to meet this man, confront him. She continued to writhe in her sleep. I took my fingers; these two, inserted them into her vagina. She woke. I smelled my fingers. You know how you can smell another on your lover when she hasn’t had time to cleanse.” I nodded, yes. “She stunk of someone else. I put the fingers in front of her nose and said WHO? She shrunk and started some gibberish about stress and medicine. She wept and said love, love, love… I wanted to… I was interrupted by my need to go to work. She stunk of another, Lindsay. What should I do?” Johnnie then slumped in the passenger seat; his sadness returned. Tex “They call you Tex. Does that mean you’re from Texas?” “That’s right boy. Lived most of my life in the deep-south; transplanted from Quebec,” delivered in a deep southern droll. “It must be a culture shock being here. Quebec, Texas and now, Vancouver, fucking fascinating,” I stated with a flux of bewilderment. “Johnnie scalped a man… I’m not sure why I’m sharing that with you; anyway, how’d you end up here?” Tex’s veins began to protrude, his eyes filled with a controlled rage. “I was deported. Mr. Bush kicked me out.” “What? Why?” “I told a State Trooper in no uncertain terms…” His veins on the verge of exploding; I was draped in fear and curiosity, Tex continued, “…today you’ll die, I am going to kill you, you fucking swine.” Calmed slightly, “He didn’t take lightly to my words. My nine-mil Baretta was loaded and cocked on the passenger seat; I just couldn’t get to it.” Aghast and flush, curiosity took the reins, “You’d have killed him? Don’t answer; I can see it in your eyes. What did you do? Mr. Bush?” “Mr. Fucking Bush, zero tolerance. After 911 he jumped at the opportunity to strip away dual citizenships from all he deemed as trouble.” Killing State Troopers hinted of trouble in my mind. “And, fuck, I did nothing. I’m an innocent man…” “Innocent?” “…pulled over for no reason, thrown to the ground, knee slammed into the crux of my back, for no Goddamn reason; mistaken identity. When the pain from tasting asphalt, along with the drive of his knee reached unbearable, it became a case of fight or flight. I fought. I lost… the Trooper skewed the story to cover his error. I wished I’d have got to the Baretta… if I did, I wouldn’t be here today.” “Time; did you do time? Amazing story, in a sense you were wrongly done by.” I had taken on a sympathetic droll. It was part performance, part empathy, part for survival. I’d become a master of feigning friendship to all, in reality, sincere, not an act. “Five years, five hard years; my life changed in a heartbeat. Mr. Fucking Bush, 911, and one fucking despicable State Trooper; if I’d only made it to my Baretta.” As I pulled my car to the curb at Tex’s destination, Tex turned toward me, rage again filling his eyes. He glanced over at me, raised his hand, cocked it, and… |
In progress
exposure
Vulnerability starts by laying oneself naked; the World becomes vibrant with the glimmering light of each new day. Sleep ends, eye(s) struggle to focus. First look; resisted, and then followed by life coming ever so slowly into view. Snooze is hit --- 9-minutes more.It’s futile, the brilliance of today and eventually tomorrow, waits; embrace it!
Life is short and the dreams of the night must turn into the reality of the day. Movement commences; the intensity builds as we blast forth, most, are misguided, as they follow a flawed formula. We’ve become pawns and the masters controlling our movement have long forgotten, actually, have never had our best interests at heart. We buy in, blindly; until we realize we can snooze no more. We’ve become lost, the journey wasn’t ours; the director of each scene led us with a constant and repetitive script. “Action” --- we ACT! “Background” --- we OBEY! Rarely questioning the direction, too conditioned to-just-fitting-in; not realizing the puzzle belongs to self’, not the masters coordinating each frame. In the beginning, the main character, you/me, is without opinion. We are to be nurtured by those who so lovingly introduced us to life; there is no need, or ability to question intentions. As life speeds merrily along, baby turns to toddler and the scope of the game; well, the manipulation of greatness is numbed as nurture turns into conditioning as we are led down a shallow path bringing us to a place of false belonging. Years pass by, dreams are quashed, and more years pass. Families break from the pressure of societies “Dream” --- we must fill a role, or we’ll quickly be cast aside, shunned by the dreamless. You resist, resistance shrouds you in solitude; you’re not like the others, you want to dream, you want to scream out, “It’s okay to be different. It’s okay to dream. It’s okay to be me!” Society, says, “NO” --- there is a place for every one of us, we must be “productive and responsible” or you’ll be subtracted from the system. The system is flawed! It’s not based on beauty, but ever so sadly, it is based on a consumptive model; eventually stripping away greatness, which is never allowed to flourish, marginalizing brilliance; and making those who need us to consume, disgustingly wealthy as they orchestrate the next move for the World. We need to stop the game! We don’t know how; the ingrained messages have lived far too long; the media and broken homes lay paths that without reluctance, we continue to follow. The torrent of the stream is strong and distractions replace thought; evil rises, good is pulled under, exhausted from the pursuit, everything frays; we look to Deities to provide us comfort and meaning. We drop critical from thinking and continue to allow others to script our lexicons. Weak, you are; it was part of the equation --- it does not need to be. For some, many, family becomes part of a downward spiral... you want acceptance; however, like you have become, they’ve been part of the broken plot for generations; you want love --- family provides judgement. You want to be held; those who could hold have been used up and expiration has been on the table for decades. They’re chasing the unreachable, as the dangling carrot is quickly pulled away from countless lost souls who’ve been consumed by the parasitical consumption we’ve been so blindly participating in. Many fall, broken, defeated; and as they realize the story began with a lie, it’s now too late for them to climb... the original dream was a fallacy; tears are all that are left. Yet, the broken can’t cry as their hearts have turned barren and bitterness now consumes their souls. You conclude; you’re strong, as much as you need to be held, your difference, your uniqueness, has left you only slightly scathed; therefore, you have a responsibility, to yourself first, but more importantly, to others, as your embrace can provide moisture to the hearts of those laying crumpled nearly defeated as they come to terms with “all being created equal” was a ruse’ and was never meant to be other than in spirit. Understanding provides, light, night comes, and is quickly replaced by day. The cycle speeds; you see dysfunction in every daybreak. The revolutions increase in velocity with each year. You want them to slow --- more light is on the horizon, you reach out; warmth fills your being, it is finally becoming reachable. You share your home with strangers; family is long gone, but not forgotten, you need to find a way to let them be. To assure them you are okay, for the most part. You need to let them have peace; you’re not quite sure how, the solution is simple --- part of yourself is broken as well, and healing is elusive. Friends become more, the strangers who’ve entered bring splendour --- the corner of the Globe is insignificant, nor is the colour of the ones skin, or the preference of ones mate; all that matters is what lay in ones essence. The lesson brings more radiance; the World lathered in an infancy of imperfection, is beautiful, and each one of us are part of the canvas. We’re connected, and we have responsibility to each other; to love, share, hold, kiss, caress, nurture and support. We are responsible for the long strokes of fragrant silky smooth brushes, highlighting, and encouraging greatness, while at the same time expounding the negativity, which shamefully, corrupts us all. We have a responsibility to change course, take the words of the messengers with question; and to reformulate our next direction with love and kindness. Judgement needs to fall from the script --- replaced with compassion, and instead of consuming as we are told, “for our survival” --- to simplify and bring life back to caring, instead of have. Love enshrines beauty, nurture leads to possibilities, questioning norms allows the dangling carrot to be reached as the make believe which brings the masters their power, will be vanquished by reality as we replace what we are sold with what lay naked and pure in our hearts. All we can offer our children is love and a better World, then the one we bought into; after all, the canvas no longer belongs to us; we must relinquish it to the next generations, trusting they’ll lead us to a better way. And the canvas, now more then ever, needs to be brushed with love! |
In progress
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GAY BAR
In progress

The pub we frequent, although, a very mixed crowd; leans toward gay---at the same time being comfortable for all. I began frequenting it approximately six years ago; mostly because of friendships with the bartenders, partly to escape my collapsing home, eventually, and near shamefully, I’ve become a fixture more often than not.
As a creative mind the draw has become the bizarreness scripted in the lives of the people who regularly visit; you can’t write the dysfunction occupying the stools at the bar.
Comedy dances with pain, denial, bitterness, and the emotions found in movement---all choreographed on most nights by Barman 1.
Gay Bar resembles Cheers with a lilt---attitude---swagger---and double snap!
And much to my dismay, it’s a place, where everybody most people, won’t hesitate putting a dagger in your back.
It’s raining out. Time to come in from the relentless mist: neon invites, seduces, and draws one in. On the edge of a bustling Gay Village, sits a non-descript bar. A bar full of energy and deception; its façade is inviting but underneath the warmth lays a multitude of characters; colourful, devious, kind-hearted, hateful, deep, shallow, lost, and mostly, draped in a façade themselves. Characters on the edge of reality, a reality skewed by alcohol and lifted by the more illicit, including an ingredient list, mostly, sugar free.
Welcome to Gay Bar; won’t you step inside!
As a creative mind the draw has become the bizarreness scripted in the lives of the people who regularly visit; you can’t write the dysfunction occupying the stools at the bar.
Comedy dances with pain, denial, bitterness, and the emotions found in movement---all choreographed on most nights by Barman 1.
Gay Bar resembles Cheers with a lilt---attitude---swagger---and double snap!
And much to my dismay, it’s a place, where everybody most people, won’t hesitate putting a dagger in your back.
It’s raining out. Time to come in from the relentless mist: neon invites, seduces, and draws one in. On the edge of a bustling Gay Village, sits a non-descript bar. A bar full of energy and deception; its façade is inviting but underneath the warmth lays a multitude of characters; colourful, devious, kind-hearted, hateful, deep, shallow, lost, and mostly, draped in a façade themselves. Characters on the edge of reality, a reality skewed by alcohol and lifted by the more illicit, including an ingredient list, mostly, sugar free.
Welcome to Gay Bar; won’t you step inside!