Sep 12
I remember mother sitting at my bedside, telling me stories about animals who needed rescuing and the brave little boy who rescued them. I remember the jungle print wall paper, some poster on my door that had pictures of lions and tigers and elephants. The tagline: “It’s a jungle out there.” I remember the very …
Aug 19
Are there monkeys in shoes? I don’t know. There are bogeymen, laying eggs in spectra. WEAR PROTECTIVE GOGGLES! Do you sneeze in sunlight? You’ve caught one in the eye. Your face is trying to reject the egg as it sneaks through your pupil and into your brain. In there, it rewrites your neurology. If you hold that sneeze …
Nov 14
Just a short bedtime story I wrote a few nights ago. Click To Play
Nov 01
pic nicked from here Once upon a time, below a blue sky in a yellow land, a monster named Albert lived on a green hill. Everything in the land was yellow. The trees were yellow, the ground was yellow and the buildings were yellow. The teeth, the eyes and the hair: yellow, yellow and …
Oct 05
pic nicked from here In the first chapter of my imaginary book, How to Hack Like a High School Illiterate: Earning High Marks from Morons While Destroying Prose, I advise the reader to start every essay with a dictionary definition. Not only does it add needless verbosity, it also shows that you either had no …
Although Ryan Oakley began his career as a simple rake (drunk) he has since become Toronto’s most renowned flaneur (no car) and notorious dandy (overdresses). A misanthropic composer of psycho-geographical fictions (sci-fi), he is also a server of food, a tender of bar and a washer of dishes. While performing all these functions with efficiency and elegance (disdain and malice), he somehow finds the time to publicly criticize friends, strangers and cultural crap.
