Some open letters to people

Dear black eyed peas: I know fergie is hot. I know you want little boys to look at her and that is why she wears a bomber jacket and little boys under ware. Since she joined the band you guys got popular but you suck you suck so bad it makes my face want to fall off. Remember when your music had a message when there was depth to it. You called for social change and you got it now it is retarded in here.

Dear Gwen Stefani: What the fuck were you thinking. I remember your first major hit with no doubt was "just a girl". I will admit that I felt sorry for you. When that damn bass player broke your heart wow that sucked and you wrote the lyrics for two albums just from that one relationship. Man it must be tough to be a girl. Then you all went to Jamaica to find your roots and released a fucking wicked album. I love rock steady. What could possibly happen when you were let loose to do your own thing? I waited for baited breath. FUCKING SLUT PIRATES that is all you have to give me what the hell is that why don't you just appeal to the reptile part of the male brain and make us angry for ever feeling sorry for you. What's next drunk naked ninjas?

Dear Chemical Brothers, Prodigy, Garbage: Oh the late nineties treated you well you all had multiple albums that mad me dance pretty close to death. Chemical Brother and Prodigy along with Daft Punk you were the electronica revolution I taught myself to dance in my room with your aid. Oh Shirley Manson you wanna pee in my belly button that is cool cause your so hot and messed up. It took me two years to stop hating Gavin rossdale just because you licked his face and not mine. You were all so dear to me you were gods. Then 2005 came along and you all released shitty albums. Your fall from grace was so fast I am surprised you did not burn up in the atmosphere. Don't re-invent yourselves do not try to win you old audience leave what you had alone. My lovely memories are all tarnished your new albums have made me second guess you old ones and if they could be bad maybe the other stuff I did during that stage in my life was also not as good as my memory makes it to be. Making out at high school parties could never be bad stop making me re-evaluate my loose high school lips.

Dear Daft punk: Disregard the above letter it does not pertain to you at all. Robot rock those two words alone remind me why I fell in love with you. I sat down with your new album and said to myself "alright daft punk you were my favorite band lets see if you still have it" When the album stopped I curled into the fetal position and weeped. I'm sorry I ever doubted you I love you never leave me I LOVE YOU!

Dear Daft Punk part two: Just wondering if you knew of anyone that was able to build a machine that could take music and manifest it into the flesh. I would like a girl that is the tits and ass of your albums. I promise I will treat her right and not talk shit about her to my friends. I promise I won't hit on her friends when I am drunk. I'll do crunches and get a six pack for her. I'll do all that stupid romantic shit with flower pedals and candles. I'll even help with the scrap book of kitten pictures just please make it happen. I LOVE YOU!

Dear Weakerthans: I don't care how depressed you are-brush your fucking teeth. Yeah it is fun to wallow in self pity and get everyone behind you on the crying train but can I have a happy song. Move out of Winnipeg eat some fatty food and call me we'll joke around a bit and we'll laugh till it hurts. You do know what laughter is right?

Dear super hot girl at my work: That totally wasn't me who farted in the elevator today. It was that old guy beside me. I know I laughed really loud and high fived my friend behind me but that does not mean I did it. I was just covering for Sal (old guy). I mean think of his feelings his self esteem is low enough being old and all.

Dear Boss: I know what it must have seemed like seeing me at the beach after I called in sick to work. I was not shucking my duties as a contributing part of society and I am certainly not a no good foot sack playing hippie, I actually was sick. I didn't want to bring it up around the office but I have wickets. Hard to believe I know my doctor said that it might be cause by working long hours in a windowless office. My doctor told me that the only cure for wickets is sunlight so I naturally headed to the beach to soak up as much as I could in a little amount of time to cure my degenerate bone disease. I will admit that taking the time during our Monday board meeting might have been ill timed but my disease is ill timed. I was at the beach with my shirt off curing myself so I could work harder the next day. I know you also asked me about all that beer and pot but could you expect me to just sit there all day? You know boring that would be.

scott - "i have a headache from not brushing my teeth this morning"
erin - "just get a toothbrush from army and navy"
scott - "why don't i just rub a stick on my teeth"
scott - "why don't i just peel my gums away"

dale - "like my new haircut"
wanda - "with your aviators you look like a cop"
dale - "yeah the police officer of loooove"

dale - "wanna make out with handcuffs on"
wanda - "more like police officer STUPID looser"

*uncomfortable silence*

dale - "so you still wanna make out"
wanda - "like the day is long my friend like the day is long"

so in my undying efforts to please my audience (aka convince girls that i am funny and they should dry hump me) i am adding yet another feature to my blog. Which doesn't really matter because i never do them so no one remembers what all my features curently are. Anyhoo here is the new thingy.

Miss quote

"To me shoes are like rolling in shit" MW while at work in the dishpit this is what it sounded like he said. He actually was saying something about wearing good shoes to impress girls parents or some stupid shit like that i wasn't paying attention to busy laughing.

Here is an install ment of the itnernet awards yeah i just made that up cause i have no life and use stumbler too much.

Best bubble wrap popping award.
1 http://www.nonstop.lv/files/bubblewrap.swf
seriously crank the volume and put it on manic mode then when someone runs into the room to tell you to shut the hell up scream "I CAN'T MUST POP FOREVER"

best tampon art website
1 http://www.tamponart.com

Now that i live in Vancouver i have noticed one thing and that is in general the males are slimmer than enywhere else. You figure this would mak me feel self conscious about my own personal body shape and it does a little amount.

That is untill i have to buy new pants for my new job. I found Pants in my size for 7.50 because my waist size never sells because the general male is smaller than me. That is the end of my self consciousness. Give me material possesions any day of the week to make myself feel better about my bloated frame.

Derek Bolen is my roommate he has been for a month now. Some of you might know Derek some of you may not. Derek Bolen installed a plug in that added a random search command to his mozilla firefox internet browse thingy or what ever.

I like to periodically roll the dice and see what comes up. To my excitement and disdain “why web journaling sucks” came up. Should I read this site? Should I ignore it? I decided to read through it and see what it had to say. I write this journal as I read it. I have just finished the intro to the thing and for some reason felt I had to write to you about it.

It had all these quotes about why established writers have lost the drive to keep up with their web journal. A lot of the times it seemed like the authors had lost their drive to write because their use for the journal had ended and they grew tired of it.

Some of the authors seemed like they were using the journal as a means to put forward their inner explorations, Their public naval contemplations and inner growth. Once a person grows a certain measured amount they no longer need their growing catalyst. Such as a baby grows out of diapers.

I am telling you all of this because I want my audience to know that I did not start my blog as a growth mechanism. I wouldn’t mind growing as a person who would there is always room for improvement and I look forward to evolving. I just do that on my own as I have done since the age of 16.

No my friends I write this blog for the same reason that any artist of any form publicly shows their creations; for attention. I want each and everyone of you to read my shit for the simple fact of the matter that you are reading my shit. I get off on it. I like when people tell me the stuff I create is good. Whether it be drawing, photography or writing it makes me feel good when you like it.

My art is a piece of me there is no way that it would not be. I created it all by trying to force you the publice to view something the same way I do.

Basically this is a long winded disclaimer thanks for reading I love all of you.

Seriously I love you

No for real

Wanna make out

Or maybe do it a little







please

The night before last I had the a couple of ok dreams that culminated into one weird dream.

It started out that i was all normal here in Vancouver i am not sure of the time but i thought it was about now.

Then i see my friends who moved her in real life about a month before but i haven’t been able to contact since then. In the dream he was driving a shiny turquoise metallic late sixties ford mustang.

It was a sunny day nothing to write about really the birds were chirping in the same way they have done for the millions of years since they evolved a voice. The colours were normal. Which apparently is a rare phenomenon to dream in color. But how can you tell when you dream in black and white because wouldn't you just assume it was a color.

When Neil and McKinley got out of the car she was wearing dress that same color as the car. Except for the car had big metallic splotches of shiny. One finds it difficult to explain but always seems to be transfixed and sucked in when you find one to stare at like a crow.

We ended up talking in a with Neil’s mom and a whole bunch of people that i don't know you could tell it is an up class place because every corner has a little table whose only purpose is to hold an ornament leaning towards ugly that makes the child in you want to destroy it and put it out of it's memory.

We were sitting around talking about useless stuff. I noticed McKinley had these weird bumps under her dress. Not her breasts. She caught me in the act of out right staring and described that they were there since the birth of her child. The process of which the bumps came to exist made perfect sense for the split second that I understood exactly what the fuck ever it was she explained to me.

I go over to human to human version of pet the child. I notice that she has a weird looking face. It is smooth like a runway model. That somewhat alien shine that ‘beautiful’ women have on their cheekbones is offset by baby doll hair. A bob with shorter bangs and longer sides. The little girl whose name was a mumbel when Neil spoke it has a dress that is cover in coffee grinds. Now she is crying.

As I reach out to touch the child I am wet and a different temperature most of me is somewhat cool and from 2 inches below my should to the top of my head I am what would be called a miniature amount of seering. I am blind and can only see white light and aptly enough only hear white noise.

I slowly adjust to my new surroundings I am treading water. I used to hate treading water as a child it was so laborious and accomplished nothing. I hated it so much I invent a half float lazy mans tread just for that week of swimming lessons through school--which was the only place I have ever had to tread water. I used to marvel about how if I was ever in a plane crash and we were all strewn to the sea that I would survive easily because I could just float instead of churning my limbs like a mixer.

I am floating down a creek that is too big to be a creek but too small to be a river. There are other people there I don’t recognize any of them they are all male. They are the type of males that make me want to move my body in an expertise many while I get fat of beer and swear about the things that jeopardize the stasis that I have managed to carve with society.

We are all joking around acting how boys act when there are only boys to see them. There is a threat around the bend. Latched on to tree roots that hang over the 3 foot cliff banks are different boys. No one knows them there is two sharing a grey air mattress that on some little square says “not to be used as a life preserver” As every boy in my pack tries to hushly guess who these boys are we all secretly eye them up to see if we could take ‘em.

One of the boys is black haired and muscular. He says something to me that I cannot remember but it was awful. I am flying through the air and I land elbowing him in the chest and he falls off of the air mattress. We are coth underwater he tries to kick me in the face and then goes up for air. I chicken peck/punch his genitals and surface. I tell him to fuck himself and laugh at his sore dick. We decide that we leave our rivalry be he and his bronzed skin friend latch on to the side of the bank and we float away deciding that we should separate.

The next thing I know I am back in the kitchen of Neil and Mckinley’s house we are sitting around the table looking out the window. There are a group of stereotypical rich people around me with southern accents.

Outside the picture window there was a row of people all dressed in blue they and another row of people dressed in grey they were lined shoulder to should facing each other. They started to raise their weapons they looked like muskets. I was in the civil war at a plantation house. “Don’t worry we are far enough back they will never hit us”. I say this as the elderly gentleman beside me falls face down in his bisque dead.

We all start to panic as everyone runs in ever directions except the right one. As people die more soldiers appear there are violet soldier and orange ones on the scene now. A man in front of me wearing baby blue stripes slides off of the bayonet of an orange soldier. As he falls away the face of the soldier in orange has been disfigured his nose is twisted and bloddy it seems the baby blue warrior franticly grasped and turned it in an attempt to hurt the other fellow as much as he could with his dying breathe. The pain only enraged orange as he walks towards me. He has a nose ring and bleached blonde hair apparently all the orange soldiers are from the 21st century. The two that are left that is I try to find a weapon to defend myself but as I pick them up they are all toys.

The two remaining soldiers are swearing as much as anyone could. I play dead and they seem to pass over me but I can’t sit still I am moving and twitching constantly. I thought I was going to die for sure. I only had one chance and that was to get to the creek from before. Some how I knew which direction it was there was a cave there that I could hide in. Me and another fellow with thick glasses were going to make a dash for it. Aparently the token geek in the story had survived and we would chase freedom together. We busted out of the door at full speed.

We are running through long grass that is that yellowish shade of green that is to beautiful for real life and only exists in the movies we are just about to run past the old willow tree when my alarm goes off.

That is my dream.

The last time I ever… Wrote a first time I ever column

This is the last time that you will read an omega this school year. It is also the last time you will read my column. I know to some of you this is sadness and to some like Logan Creed this is a moment to celebrate. I on the other hand am neither sad nor happy. I am trying to take this in stride just like other momentous occasions of my life.

You may ask why my writing a somewhat asinine column on the back of a newspaper coming to an end is so important? It is mostly what else is directly co-related to my meandering keyboard smith ending. I am no longer in the town where I have lived off and on for the last 6 years; Kamloops. I have graduated my studies with one of the first brand spanking new TRU degrees. I am actually impartial about the name that will be on my Bachelor of Journalism degree because it is just a piece of paper and all I ever wanted was for it to open that one door to let me work with my mind instead of my callused palms.

Now is the time that I so cliché-ingly have to send out some gratitude to what made the trip a little more bearable. There are a few people at the college who helped me through my years as I was turning from an awkward teenager into a man. Nick Pawliuk who made us read good novels like Jack Kerouac instead of Margaret Atwood. Thank you Frank Papp because instead of doing work we would joke around until we couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard. Denis Keustch for not patronizing me. I owe Maxine Ruvinsky for actually giving a shit about what she taught. Eileen Leier for letting me realize how much easier taking a picture is than drawing and Rhonda Neufeld who taught me that drawing was allowed to be fun.

The funny thing about college is it never seems to be as fun as the movies portray it to be. Well actually it is exactly as much fun it is just weeks instead of minutes between escapades. Who doesn’t have a “this one crazy night at the Max” story I know I’ve managed to make a few of those.

This is the part where I close my final column with blubbery about how we are all connected and that I will see you in the future sometime. After all Powder did explode and give each and everyone of us a little of his love.

So after a solid two days of effort my website is finally done. This is my online resume so give me a job lackeys.

http://dalederuiter.tripod.com

so this weekend i saw a couple o'gigs. One friday night, one on saturday and one saturday night. 12 bands 25 hours here is my impression of their shows.

some band i can't remember the name of - They seemed pretty run of the mill a mish mash of stuff like weezer and other geek rock. I couldn't even remember the name what does that say.

You say party! We say die! - Super happy these guys were playing i never knew there would be music like this. There is only one question this band leaves in my mind and that is what i would like to do more. Dance like a mother fucker till i pass out or have some of that sweet sweet sex.

Harold Pine and the miss Liddy Fawn - Ha Ha it's sunday at 12.42pm and my roomate is asleep and it is sunny. I'll turn on this music just to annoy him awake. After two songs he doesn't wake and your out of breath from jumping on the bed so you move on to something else. An hour later your roomate wakes up and asks you "What the fuck were you listening to before."

the dooers - yeah they are pretty good how the hell did they fit 6 people on that teeny stage. I feel like going home to listen to sonic youth.

Run chico Run - watching this band perform live is like getting tag teamed by music ninjas.

Elizabeth - meh just another band between rock and punk

Controller Controller - Wow i do not want to mosh to Controller Controller. I mean yeah they are alright but i don't see why everyone is shitting their pants.

Death from above 1979 - Remember when you were younger and every one kept telling you how good sex was and you got super excited to fuck. Then you finally convinced someone to take off their pants and the world did not move. Remember that dissapointment. Seeing death from above 1979 live is how loosing your virginity should have felt.

nightmare - some crazy band from osaka japan made up of a group of over 30 year old metal heads who sang in japanese what could possibly be wrong with that.

Border guards - they had a song called live fast die drunk

lancasters - i couldn't really pay attention to the finer points of the music because the bass players guitar strap was a chain and he went into the mosh pit still playing.

D.O.A. - if 50 year old punkers creep you out don't go to a gig where a band that has been playing for 27 years is playing.

some dude wrote in to the omega about me hehehe here is his letter as it appeared in the omega

The first time I
ever .... was glad
to see someone
leave Kamloops

I don't know if you read last week,
but it was a good issue. Why you
might ask? For one reason, Dale De
Ruiter moved to Vancouver!! It’s the
writer of "The First Time I Ever..."
column on the back page of the
Omega. You may wonder why this is
a bad thing. Well I will tell ya! Now
I have met this kid and just hated
every second of it. Basically, because
he is a putz. No kidding.
His column has no journalistic view
that would be allowed in a major
newspaper, and I know you are thinking.
What Omega is a major news
paper?! While it may not be that, it’s
the voice of the students on TRU
campus and we don't need the crap
that he writes. What about Papp or
Gracey? Their stuff at least has a
point, and mainly is fun to read.
Whereas, De Ruiter's stuff is something
that my kid sister would write
in her journal (which is probably the
point of the column) and far too
melodramatic/ depressing for this
paper. Which most news is, but that
is beside the point.
I mean, why do we need to hear
about the first time a guy paints his
nails or tries to get his head around
the whole Kamloops/Kelowna thing
(which he thoroughly didn't get); or
even the first time that moves into a
new place in VAN CITY (it is VAN
CITY, not the Couv). It all seems
trivial (even this letter), and his stuff
doesn't even belong in a poetry journal
(his stuff just sucks). It may seem
that I am proving the Redneck myth
to this city, but even the most liberal
of minds has to (at least) understand
that if you want people to like what
you write and read it. You have to
give them some substance, and my
friends, his column did not and does
not have that. It just blows chunks.
Suck on that,
-Logan Creed
Happy Camper

my response to the angry letter.

The first time I ever responded to an angry letter to the editor about me

First I would just like to thank Logan Creed. Thank you for reading my columns. I personally love finding out that the kids are reading my stuff. Yeah yeah you hate it--big deal you still read it.

You know you are doing something right when someone else tell you it’s wrong. All the great entertainers are loathed just as much as they are loved. I would consider my columns entertainment instead of news. Where Kamloops Is concerned I was never overly strong at writing news stories--especially now that I live in the Couv.

This is the part of the letter where a person would usually attack the other persons intelligence that is displayed through his/her grammar and spelling. This is what is called an ‘argumentative fallacy’ because it is a straw person argument. If you attack a person instead of the argument they present it is meaningless because they did not present themselves.

Quite frankly I hate when I read a retort that attacks a person on their spelling and grammar and using this as a reflection of their intelligence. To me it just says “I don’t have any real retort to this persons argument so I will just attack their intelligence instead.”

Now I am not going to write this whole column as some attempt to out wit this fellow Logan Creed because that would make me a putz. In fact that is what he told you his impression of me was when he met me. What did I think about him? Actually I Don’t remember and I have no idea who this guy is. I guess that makes me a bad guy because I don’t remember my fans.

In his letter Logan Creed stated : “It all seems trivial (even this letter), and his stuff doesn't even belong in a poetry journal (his stuff just sucks).” I just had a hard time understanding this. Is this him stating that he doesn’t like poetry and my writing is really bad because it couldn’t even make it into something as low as a poetry journal? Logan don’t you feel with such a short cited off hand remark you might be alienating a large population of the human race as in absolutely everyone who likes poetry. I am not going to pair myself up with these people as a defence tactic because as I said before this point is unclear. I have no idea why you said anything about poetry when criticizing my column.

I didn’t want to get defensive because it could be viewed as a weakness but I do have to point out my intent with the two columns he commented on. My nail polish column was about the gender roles of the college age male and how ridiculous they may be, they are still there. My column about the Kelowna and Kamloops rivalry was just to show that I don’t see the point in the rivalry and it serves no purpose.

Your right Logan my views would not be allowed in any major paper and you are also right that the Omega is not a major paper. Thanks for proving that your point is moot all by yourself. I really don’t even have to comment on this comment then. Thus I just wasted your time with a long winded argument that proves no point. Man that blows chunks and that just sucks wow I did waste your time just like Logan Creed.

Mom i am sorry, I'm gay.

Upon a lot of self exploring and realization i have discovered i can't hold a woman cause i don't like them. I don't like women becuase i am gay. I don't like the look of vaginas they pale in comparison to a nice slick shiny cock.

I understand if some of you will be wierded out to hang out with me for a while untill you come to terms with my need for man love.