It is official as of this moment on my life is music and I love it.

I have an internship at a record label. I just had my second interview at a+b sound. I am going to go to 3 concerts in two days. I downloaded over a hundred songs yesterday alone. I will end up taking pictures at two of the concerts and writing about the third.

I am pretty sure this is as much musicness one can cram into their life with out being in a band. Even though I am broke this is still awesome. With any luck I will some how be able to capitalize on all of this action and make some sweet sweet coinage out of it.

All this music in my head I came up with a couple of ideas. First I would like to tell the band thrice to give up their snare. Although many rap bands have taught us how sweet music sounds with the snare drum being the loudest part of a song it is rather annoying. Dear Thrice music is supposed to be more than a snare drum and a singer and some stuff in the background. In fact that stuff in the background is usually what we listeners are into.

Another idea was I watched that movie 24 hour party people and I fell in love with the band Joy Division. Apparently people were sad before emo ever came out. I decided that a grand idea would be to build a time machine so that I could go back into that period of time before the singer died at the end of the 70's and enjoy Joy division just as they should be. I then downloaded two magnetic fields albums and decided that that was close enough since they sound exactly the same now I could have my jones de-joned without any sort of scientific endeavor.

Today i walked into a writing conference and toured around looking at the different booths. The reason i was there was because merlin knew some guy with a bear and a guns'n'roses shirt from San Diego or San Francisco whichever town he came from he was in school to be a writer.

I have always wonder why these sweet little fingers have never caressed me out a book. I have come to realize that i just am aiming to high i would never want to write a book that was lame. But i couldn't write a book that seemed ok but to me was lame. I in turn have two reasons why i would never write a book one is because i would be too afraid that it would turn out to be a hunkering pile of shit that i wouldn't want to put my name on. Secondly i am sick of writing after this much i can't even imagine writing over 200 pages holy fuck that would be ridiculous.

woah bejesus i forgot to give you my column so here it is.

The first time I ever had to look for work in the couv

The best way for a person to contemplate their navel and help get in touch with their self is doing absolutely nothing for a week. Even though it is pretty awesome, sleeping until two p.m. because you were trying to convince that girl from Calgary that you weren’t creepy and you would actually live happily ever after on the internet all night, eventually you realize that you need to pay for the electricity your x-box is sucking out of the wall.
“The hardest work is finding work.” Every time I hear some chucklehead say that to me I want to snap. Even if they are just trying to sympathize with you after a week of being told you are not pretty enough and am too old to be unsuccessful from the more than willing evening cable teenagers--any input is the wrong input.
The hardest part of looking for work is just how much you put your self esteem into someone else’s hands. You put on clothes you hate, try to talk and move better than you usually do and ask a total stranger “am I good enough for you?” That fact that you have dressed your self up and trying harder to be more of a person is even worse.
The insult to injury is the response: “we aren’t hiring right now but we’ll keep this on file.” It may have taken a while but I have come to know that by ‘on file’ they mean in the garbage under our cold cheap coffee and half eaten subway cookies.
After a hard days effort of walking around sweating gel onto your forehead it is nice to come home and find that there is a message on the answering machine for a job interview--Nice for your roommate.


just remember to read the letters section of the omega there is a hate letter directed at me. Finally i didn't even get one for the crotch shot. The last bit of the letter was cut off because the guy swore but this is what he called me.

"no talent goth club kid monkey wannabe"

and to quote the barnaked ladies havent you always wanted a monkey

wow when i decided that i was going to move to vancouver i thought that the free time i would have when i finally arrived here would be grand. What would i do what projects that i have not had time for would i fnially complete. Will i draw more, take more pictures or maybe i could write that story i started in the summer. Well guess what i have been up to--if you guessed sweet fuck all you are absolutely correct. The thing i find myself doing more often than anything else is making faces in to the wecam and moving like a robot in the delay. If that doesn't get me rich than i am pretty much fucked.

Actually i guess i have done one thing i got myself an internship at a record label which sounds a whole lot more prestigious than it actually is. I am working on tour press for a band that starts a cross canada tour on april 1st. Yeah the chicks will be all over me when they hear that stuff until they realize that today for four hours all i did was find the phone numbers for the various preint media accross the country. The best name for a newspaper so far is the Thunder bay Nugget. Oh ontario you quirky little province.

Tomorow i get to look forward to calling all of these papers and telling them to give some press for our band. Alas the shitty thing about the field of journalism is that not only is it underpaid but the best jobs are unpaid. Sure i could make some money at it if i just worked at a daily and did work that apparently i can't do. The most priceless thing in this line of work is your experience after all. Some of us just learned the value of priceless--as in free. I wouldn't do it if i didn't like it though i guess free concerts and cd will help console me through my sleepless nights.

In other news, as in paid work news, i have a second interview at A+B sound on thursday. Along with my roomate if i get hired i will be working for minumum wage surprise surprise. Again cool job little pay because everyone wants it. Of course if i do get the job i will, inevitably, spend my whole paycheck on cheap cds. That is about it for me i am not wildly succesfull but i don't know if i want to be it just seems that succesful journalists have to wear ugly shirts and all have the same wierd hair cut.

alright guys and womens now that i am in vancouver i have done some research your new trendy annoying word is porto in reference to portfolio it will be bigger than photog ever was. and couv is still not off the ground guys jesus use it instead of van how will i ever rule the world if you don't listen. Have a nice day.

movie awards movie awards
best movie you are not going to watch because you heard it sucked and you listened to them cause your a pansy
1. Waterworld. Pretty much the roas warrior on water. No one hated that stupid kevin costner more than me but this along with the postman mad me rethink my intentions and than he never made another good movie.

2. battle field earth. Stop making fun of me for liking this movie especially if you havent seen it loosers.

What can i say i have a hard on for post apocalyptic material which is historically doesn't mix well with the critics who like drama and romantic comedy.

Well just so everyone stops asking me no i havent had any vancouver adventures and no i havent met any women yet. I am unemployed and the money is running out i pass the time on the internet and cuddling with my x-box. I am also budgeting my concerts because i can't afford them all but it is still way better than kamloops. The only thing i wanted in kamloops was to do nothign working three jobs had taken its toll. Well i got what i wanted and now i am tired of doing nothing. My back hurts from stooping over the keyboard for the better part of most of my days. My x-box is worn and the buttons are thinning from over use. I am so unproductive i make my highschool days look like i am a walstreet business man.

top six reasons you know you need a job.
1. your roomate repeats "dude where fucked" in reference to your rent ever five minutes
2. your glad you get to eat mc donald's
3. you get sick of x-box
4. you finish reading that book that has been keeping your coffee table level since as long as you rememebr
5. you turn your messenger status to offline because there are too many people talking to you
6. your sick of sleeping untill 2pm

newest colum hot off the press before you can read it

The first time I ever moved to Vancouver

Everyone knows that moment at the bar when you have had enough. It is exactly when you stop bobbing your head. When you stop caring about your friends possible score. It is the moment when the music is to loud and you are busy convincing your self that you are not going to puke. You stand still half willing–half breathing through the nausea. When you feel like a cartoon character scowling at things not there that is when you have had enough.

You’ve come to a land where the towels are handed to you and everyone is dressed sharper than you. Where you scrawl drunk notes at the bar on old UCC sign you stole from the pub because you are alone scared and excited–a little horny but mostly gap mouthed at the beauty of the couv.

Perhaps I should explain: I am now a resident of the Greater Vancouver area. Today I woke up in my new apartment with taste in my mouth I can only call a full night of drinking by dale. Yesterday can be broken into two parts. Part one was packing and moving my stuff to Vancouver and part two was calling my friends and going for short-just-a-couple-of-blocks-that-turns-into-forever-you-hate-your-friends walks to a better club that culminated with me at the plaza on Granville drunk.

Vancouver bars are almost the same as bars everywhere else; The drinks are too expensive there is too much shitty music and the hotties look at everyone but you.

Whenever I would tell anyone that I was moving to Vancouver I got one of three responses: “Moving to Vancouver huh? It rains a lot in Vancouver.” “You know it is expensive to live there right?” “Yeah you will have fun there.” All three of these predictions came true the first night. It rained as we walked around downtown looking for a better bar that was occupied by more attractive people to wet our whistles. More money left my pocket via my hand in exchange for the beer than I had previously allotted.

An old proverb that I probably read on the yellowing inside of a stained and graffiti ridding bathroom stall said “It is not the destination but the journey that is of importance.” My material passions were transported over the Coquihalla highway with the help of my neighbor. He and his wife were travelling down to maple ridge to attend a wedding and offered me the service of their blue-green Ford 150 that rolled off the production line roughly the turn of the century.

Deeply involved in some cheep science fiction novel written by an obscure author I judged the level of peril of our trek by the driver’s choice of language. The snow on the coke got a couple of swears--as did my request for bathroom. Maple ridge was where the full palette of the swearing was displayed as we approached and intersection that was sprinkled with glass and other odd bits of car that are strewn about when to vehicles collide at high speeds.

Smoke rose from the mid size sedan laying limp in the middle of the intersection, the front right wheel missing. The mashed crumple zones, like the rest of the car were a color somewhere between rose and cherry and the other infinite shades of red, the year was indistinguishable due to the state of the car. On the greasy wet highway beside the car an almost hero paramedic realizes that his labour is in vane and his two helper/watchers lay a tarp over the driver.

I will admit I had never really thought about the day that I would see my first casualty of the road but today was that day. It is something you can’t really prepare for and like so many other situations in life don’t know how to act. I took the simple quiet approach I just let the other occupants voice their opinions on the situation and took it as a life lesson. You can die on the highway so watch out.

dalebot says:
what do you mean leather wallet for a dick
MOM says:
lol grandpas name is on it
dalebot says:
really it says dick on the wallet
dalebot says:
that is so awesome
dalebot says:
can i have it
MOM says:
yah I took it for you
dalebot says:
yesss
MOM says:
I could imagine you telling people when they ask you if your name is Dick
MOM says:
you will tell them no but I am one
dalebot says:
that is probably the coolest wallet ever
MOM says:
ha ha
dalebot says:
hahaha
dalebot says:
you know me like only a mother knows her child
MOM says:
ha ha

my cell phone doesn't work repeat my cell phone doesn't work if you want my vancouver land line just email me

aaaaaaaaand last weeks blog confusing i know but deal with it

The first time i ever spent the night in k-town

After living in Kamloops for over five years I decide it was finally time to go see Kelowna. Of course, I have been to Kelowna before to go to the mall or across the bridge, but I have never really hung out there—or more importantly gone to a bar there.
Over the years, I have heard plenty about this whole rivalry between the two K-towns and various reasons why we are better than them. Fueled by jealousy, pretentiousness and plain old ignorance, this rivalry is an underlying aspect to life in either city.
If I was going to go to the home of the floating bridge, then I was going in style. So I borrowed my mother’s ‘92 Plymouth Acclaim. Amply fitting for my lack of refined driving skills, the six-cylinder, beige, four-door beauty chirped me along quite nicely.
One thing I would like to point out after all these years, borrowing the car from your parents is pretty much still the same as it was in high school.
You approach them with the confident yet meek look of asking for a favour that you feel you deserve. You warm them up a little and try not to mention anything that would get them riled up. You avoid everything that happened last time your borrowed their car in high school.
“No, you won’t have to pull me out of the ditch with your green John Deere. No, you won’t have to worry about Pete spilling bongwater in the back seat. No, I won’t run out of gas in the middle of nowhere because I spent your gas money on burritos and chocolate bars and yes, you are right $20 is too much to spend on burritos. You for sure won’t find any condoms on the floor that Devon pulled over his head to blow up and pretend he was an alien.Yes I’m sure that is what happened, but I do wish it was because I was having sex with some dirty girl in your car.”
You have to convince them that what you are doing is important enough that they should go without the luxury of their car so you can complete your tasks. Fortunately for me, my mother was out of town on ambiguous family business. Open season on Le Auto.
Once in Kelowna (after an uneventful drive) my friends and I decided that we would go out for dinner and then decide the big plans. The Well, which is OUC’s campus pub, was our first stop. From there we decided on strippers and then to Flashbacks.
Going to the strippers is like eating a peanut butter and cheese sandwich: sure, each is good on a sandwich on their own, but then you get that stranger’s vagina right close to your face and realize that the feminists were right: there is nothing sexy about it.
After we were adequately creeped out it was time for Flashbacks. And by flashback they mean the Max three years ago. The music and the dancing was all oddly familiar and this should have comforted me. Then I bought a $7 drink and was bumped into about a bazillion times by boys with shoes that were too shiny, hair that was too styled and shirts that were too crisp. It pretty much went down hill from there.
Kelowna is alright; the weird thing is that pretty much everything is one story so the town is an endless strip mall, but they do have nice statues.
My final judgement on the whole rivalry between Kamloops and Kelowna: each one has good points and I am moving to Vancouver.

here is a nother column

The first time I ever went to mardi gras

My brain rattles as my thoughts of the immense number of possibilities of what could happen at Mardi Gras. What wild forms of debauchery will take me away from my life for one night? It is Thursday march 10 and I am at Party your faces off’s Mardi Gras.

Me and a few friends met up after work and decided to start the night at exactly 10:18 at River’s where half of the party was being held. I am a little uneasy because of my first Mardi Gras celebration. I buy beads not really considering what they are for. I don’t really want to get girls to flash me I just want to wear them in case I change my mind.

Girls’ flashing for beads is one of the give-ins of the occasion it just seems to be a one of those things that everybody knows that they can’t remember learning—like cartwheels. According to some half ass haggard internet research (mardigras.com) Carnival starts on January 6, which is 12 nights after Jesus’ birth and coincidently the night the wise men made it to Bethlehem. Mardi Gras, which is the final blow out of Carnival, always falls on the Tuesday that is 46 days before Easter. It is always the day before Ash Wednesday, which is the start of Lent.

Basically for forty days and forty nights people fast and give up their temptations to become closer to God. To make this bearable they spend almost two months drinking and other forms of lewd behaviour i.e. flashing boobies at guys with beads and with any luck they will be ‘partied out’ for lent.

Now I am not going to fast and I haven’t been going to balls for the duration of Carnival I am here for one reason and that is just to see what this is about. I know it won’t compare to Bourbon Street in New Orleans but it is better then sitting on my orange crushed velvet sofa eating tomato soup.

The funny thing about a situation like this is how you are supposed to act. I mean of course I wouldn’t mind seeing some breasts but wouldn’t that just make me shallow if I came just for that. The ultimate conundrum of any bar situation is this: I don’t want to seem like a slut or a shallow person who only cares about sex but sex is pretty damn good and I wouldn’t mind getting some of it. We all hate the meat market but we still try to make ourselves look good.

It is the type of human interaction you can never fully grow out of. We just replace the dollar beer at the Max with wine and martinis at our friend of friend’s almost too neatly decorated pad. We turn to politics and human condition topic instead of who humped who last weekend. The thing that will never change is that people will always get together drink and try to have sex with each other—well unless somewhere along the way we evolve past intercourse.

Things are always easier if someone else goes first so here is me saying that I like intercourse and if the situation went right I could be persuaded into it. But you have to come to the Max all my pretentious friends of friends got sick of my potty mouth.

if you havent been to mynewest link rockdamullet.com yet what are you waiting for. This is seriously some dope shit. The mullet is the new mohawk.

after going to the bars in kelowna my new favorite thing is drunk pudgy girls with bad fitting striped shirts that are too tight. Everything they lack in beauty they replace with alcohol induced vigor. They are so cute it makes you wonder why stuffed toys are shaped like bears instead of them.

"you are a giant dale a giant i love the articles keep them coming" Wesley Ecelston.
The guy who told me that today as he passed by is a teacher so you know it is right. A teacher tells more truth then a tv and almost books. so here it is the next article cause i can't dissapoint wes—he is crazy hot

The first time i ever helped kids control their anger

On Jan. 27 I started a new part-time job. My new meal ticket is helping children at an elementary school that I can’t tell you about because of a “disclosure cause.” At the school I talk to children who have problems controlling their anger.
I use a combination of workbooks and activities so the kids can tackle their shortcomings in the feeling control department. After all, anger is just an emotion like any other and it is only a problem if you can’t control it.
I try to go through this with the little boys because it seems that most people who have problems with anger have at one point in time or another turned their back on their feelings. I explain to the boys that I’m only trying to help them so that they can fit into society later on.
One thing I have realized is that little boys are not in touch with their feelings. Just like I wasn’t when I was at the lower elementary level. This is the reason why I took interest in taking the job in the first place. I felt that with my own personal experience conquering my own anger I could help out the children. The population of tomorrow could be made better at my hands and I would be an old fashioned do-gooder.
Convincing myself that I could make a difference is another major reason why I felt this job was right for me. I am a firm believer that to make the planet better we have to make us better. I always wanted to help out the planet so in turn I have always wanted to make people stronger and get along with each other.
Getting beaten by cops because I am standing somewhere telling some organization to stop being jerks and take responsibility is not a way that I want to change the people. Protesting is too romantic and painful for me to seriously consider. Since I still want to make a difference and have people tell me I’m a good guy, I help the kids instead.
The first thing that occurred to me after working this job for a while is that I should phone my mother and apologize for all the times I lost hold on my anger when I was younger. Since I was the one throwing the temper tantrums, I never realized how bad they were but it turns out that I was a plain out and out bastard.
Mom, I’m sorry I smashed my dinky cars with a hammer. I am sorry I freaked out on my brother and sister for breaking my crayons after they coloured too hard. Mostly, I’m sorry for every time I screamed like a 5-year-old girl with a skinned knee every time something that I didn’t like happened.
It is not like I was intentionally trying to annoy the shit out of the people around me. I always had justification in my own mind for my actions. The problem with justification is if you search long enough you can find an excuse for anything.
The second thing I noticed about my job is that the elementary school teachers still wear the same perfume. That timeless implacable scent that makes you on edge yet comforted and self aware of your actions. It could rightly be called the scent of being watched.
The third thing I realized is that little kids think I am cool. At least twice a day I get the same question from one of the students at the school:
“Are you a cool dude?”
“Yes, yes I am,” is my reply as I hold my head high while I wipe the single tear that is a result of the 15-year-late cool status. It’s pretty ridiculous but it’s pretty awesome to hear some kid yell out “YOU’RE COOL!” instead of “YOU SUCK!”
Over everything else though, the absolute best thing about the job is the tiny chairs and low, kid-sized tables. I like to pretend I am a giant.

people are always telling you to cherish the small things in life so here are the small little joys that i experience today and it isn't even two yet hurah. Hell why don't i just make it a top six list hahaha i'm brilliant.

1. I farted in the new age section of the used book store. Gross as it may be i can't think of a better section to drop the baby shit mixed with cheese and peanut butter bomb.

2. An old lady with hot pink lipstick, curly hair and pants entirely too high burps outside the coffee shop without excusing herself. Now my friend that is fcuking girl power.

3. I a girl-with-a-pig-shave's head. Seriously it was hot pink how fucking cool is that. All women defy you gender roles and shave your head i might even do you. It is the greatest trend i have ever witnessed.

4. the kiln at the elementary school i work with was emmiting a smell that was a mixture of pbaby shit and pumpkin. yeah it sucked but entirely worth it because the grade two teacher almost puked and freaked out.

5. I keep telling people that my new girlfriend has a picture on the internet it is www.tubgirl.com and then they go look and i laugh in their stupid face when they whine about how gross that is and uncalled for.

6. i walk/danced downtown to ima robot try it you'll find out why it is great.

what is it about women with thick thighs that makes you want to get your face wet