La Vida Veeta

Y’allllllLLLLLLLlLLLLllllLLLLLL

Have you ever seen something so unbelievably cunty that it took your breath away? Like, I’m not talking any regular level of cuntiness. I mean “a bitch stomped on your diaphragm and forced all the air out of your lungs” levels of cunt. I mean “your neck was snapped, car totaled and house leveled by a category 5 cunt storm” levels of cunt. I mean “the Earth’s magnetic poles swapped, leading to a complete degradation of our protective electromagnetic mesosphere leading to the entire planet being blasted with lethal doses of cosmic radiation coupled with a complete reversal in the direction of the mantle’s liquid magma currents causing tectonic mayhem which leads to planetwide earthquakes and an exponential increase in volcanic activity, decimating the entire planet and destroying life as we know it (besides colonies of tube worms and abyssal crustaceans which pull their nutrients from deep sea thermal vents)” LEVELS OF CUNT. Well, honey, strap in your tits because Vancouver Island delivered on EVERY 👏 SINGLE 👏 LEVEL 👏 OF 👏CUNT 👏.

Vancouver Island really delivered the goods lemme just say. She has beaches. Waterfalls. Waterfalls on beaches. Beaches bordering waterfalls that have their own beaches with their own tiny waterfalls. You think I’m kidding, but they really exist (check photos for reference (ok there’s actually not any photos of this exact thing but don’t be a fucking lame-o just roll with it)). Most of the island’s southwestern coast is a series of rugged valleys and ridges that drop dramatically to sheltered coves surrounded by steep sandstone cliffs. A dense, mystical, primordial-feeling rainforest carpets the countryside: a mossy emerald tapestry. Majestic spruce and cedars jut dramatically skyward from the coastline. In some places sharp volcanic rock outcroppings extend into the turbulent waters of the Salish Sea- creating sheltered tidepools in small parallel faultlines each containing their own micro aquatic ecosystem. It’s a place of minute details so easy to overlook: a colony of mushrooms sprouting from the underside of a rotten log, microscopic hermit crabs meandering through vibrant anemones, a tiny ephemeral wave-fed coastal waterfall cascading down a rocky shoreline. It’s a place that is so removed from day to day life- so serene- that it’s impossible not to feel introspective. Life truly is such a blessing. To be able to experience the world in all of its hermit crab glory is a reminder that long after humans have made our messy ass mark on the world, time will march forward. Waves will continue to erode coastlines. Water will continue to flow downhill. Trees will continue to sprout, and shoot skyward, and fall- sustaining their own new saplings. Nature is cyclical. Nature is eternal. Nature is CUNT.

In addition to the natural bounty of Vancouver Island, the towns are equally as captivating. Victoria (the capital of British Columbia) is like a Hallmark movie come to life. The downtown looks like a goddamn Hollywood set with it’s turn of the century brick and wood building facades. Craigdarroch Castle rises dramatically from its rocky perch to the east, its copper shingled roof gleaming warmly in the afternoon sun (this place is DEFFFOOOO haunted and I would love to see Demi Lovato go there to sing at the ghosts. Remember when Demi did that? Watch this for a lil refresher in case you didn’t (or just want the reminder hehehehe). Well guess what Demi- Pepperidge Farm remembers. As an aside- can we talk about just how rotted and sinister Pepperidge Farms is? Like, I know the old commercials were supposed to be warm and fuzzy and comforting in the way that Pepperidge Farms would remember the good ol’ times. But I always found it ominous and frankly threatening as fuck. Take for example: “Remember that one time you stole $10 from your mom? Pepperidge Farm remembers. Remember when you cheated on your spouse? Pepperidge Farm remembers. Remember that body you dumped behind the old Smith barn off of County Route 202 the summer of 97? PEPPERIDGE. FARM. REMEMBERS.” It’s giving very Santa Claus “he sees you while you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake”. Or a Furby: Cute in intention, absolutely horrifying in execution. Wow ok, I reaaaally went off on a tangent there. What were we talking about? Let’s see….Furbies….Pepperidge Farms….Demi Lovato singing to ghosts….oh right!! Craigdarroch Castle. So this absolute BEAST of a building was built in the 1890’s by coal baron Robert Dunsmuir. The real gag is that he died while the building was still under construction, so his dumbass never even got to see it completed. Something about that feels so….CORRECT. Karmic justice aside, the building is an architectural wonder with several stone turrets, numerous chimneys of different sizes, stained glass windows, beautiful deep porches and massive arched doorways. It is the real life setting of Clue. And Craigdarroch is only part of the beauty of Victoria’s Rockland neighborhood. Built on top of a prominent hill, the neighborhood features leafy streets with large, beautiful turn of the century houses of a multitude of styles (Tudor, Craftsman, and Victorian to name a few). Right around the corner from the castle is the Government House: the office and official residence of the Lieutenant Governor. Well frankly I don’t give a single fuck about them but what I will say is that the grounds are BYEEEEEWWWWTIFUL. Several acres of lush gardens wrap around the main residence (which was built in 1865 and is a stunning piece of architecture in its own right). The rhododendron gardens in particular were on full display when I visited and let me tell you, the range of colors was staggering. Rhododendrons never disappoint, and these bitches were next level. Rhododendrons are QUITE CUNT. At the end of my wanderings around Victoria I came to the Ross Bay Cemetery. I don’t know how or why I ended up here, but honestly I’m glad I did. I find that cemeteries are such a peaceful place, and sometimes I like to visit just to find solace in a quiet corner of the world and listen to birdsong. There were deer grazing on grass which at first was peaceful until I realized: if deer eat grass taking nutrients from decaying humans, do these deer develop a taste for human meat? Have these deers’ brains been reprogrammed to no longer crave grass but instead the rich, fatty meat of a human’s rump? WILL DEER NOW TURN THE TABLES AND HUNT US?? ARE WE ALL DOOMED TO DIE AT THE HANDS OF BAMBI HERSELF?? Anyways, it was a great way to exhale, walk in silence, and enjoy the peace of a warm May afternoon. Cemeteries are definitely CUNT.

In addition to Victoria is Port Renfrew, a small coastal community about 2 hours drive west of Victoria on the coastal highway. To get to Port Renfrew is a journey in of itself- the road is single lane in many places, involves hairpin turns around tight, steep mountainous corners, and has many single lane bridges. It’s an absolutely stunning drive with several magnificent vistas overlooking the Salish Sea along the route. Once you get to Port Renfrew, it’s a collection of houses and shops along the main street with view of the Port San Juan inlet. Along this main route is the Pacheedaht Gas Bar- an old school gas station with attendants who fill up your gas for you. Much of Port Renfrew is on land belonging to the Pacheedaht First Nation. Pacheedaht translates to English as “People of the Sea Foam” and considering the stunning, rugged coastal terrain in this area, it makes sense. At the gas bar I met Del, a member of the Pacheedaht. Del and I started chitchatting as one does, and they mentioned this amazing organization they do work with- United for Literacy. Doing some research into them, the organizations history has a pretty dark past (being directly involved in promoting non-Indigenous education and contributing to the colonization of Indigenous communities). That being said, from what I can tell it appears the organization has done a lot of work recognizing and reconciling for its past actions (I am by no means knowledgeable in this subject matter whatsoever so I just want to make that clear). What I can say is that my conversation with Del was really enlightening, and she is passionate about the work her specific program does with United Literacy- namely creating resources for rural First Nations’ communities educating folks on financial literacy (which, let’s be real, in this capitalist system we’ve locked ourselves into is a survival skill). Looking into United for Literacy’s programming across Canada is a really interesting deep dive for anyone interested, and I can say that Del is an absolute gem who put the biggest smile on my face. If you ever find yourself in Port Renfrew, stop by the gas bar and if you meet Del, be sure to say hi and tip her well. So the verdict? Port Renfrew is most absolutely cunt.

Del aside, perhaps the peak of my Vancouver Island experience was Botany Bay. I had met some folks earlier in the day who kept singing Botany Bay praises and I was like “yeah yeah, sure whatever ya freakz” but lemme tell y’all: the freakz did NOT LIE. Botany Bay lies 3.3 km (that’s about 2 miles for you dumb non-metric using Yankees) to the west of Port Renfrew. After walking down a short hike through a fairy tale forest, one emerges out onto a sunlit cove, ringed by wave beaten volcanic crags forming mesmerizing geometric patterns. In the late afternoon sun, the glistening pools contained within the parallel cracks in the stone shimmered like veins of crystal. Truly STONNIN’. Within each pool lived complex colonies of sea grass, pink marine ‘bushes’ (coral?? idk I didn’t go to school for sea plants), barnacles, limpets, mussels, crabs, minnows, slugs, chitons, anemones and hermit crabs. The HERMIT CRABS. They were so cute 😍😍😍 like I may want to now make it my life goal to buy a huge house just to rip out the entire floor and replace it with a giant pool filled with hermit crabs. I could watch em do crab thangs all day. There was legit one point where I saw like, 10 hermit crabs jump this other one. Although it was some low down, cowardly, dirty, Bad Girls Club style brawling I would be lying if I said I wasn’t thoroughly fucking entertained. Like they were shell stomping this bitch!! I had to leave because the sun was starting to get low in the sky, but trust I could have (and would have) stayed there all day throwing money down on my bets to win (I’m reckless and always cheer for the underdog so I would’ve placed bets on the one baddie holding it down against 10. Shout out to her- what a fucking bad bitch). Hermit crabs are confirmed CUNT.

OMG and wait how could I forget possibly the cuntiest of all cunts of Vancouver Island??? Perhaps the cuntiest in all the land?!! Let me paint a picture. I stopped off the coast highway at French Beach Provincial Park to hike down to the water and as I round the corner, under a single dramatic beam of sunlight piercing the dense canopy, illuminated dramatically as if blessed from Gaea herself who do I see? THE MOST DIVALICIOUS DIVA OF ALL. THE BADDEST BITCH THIS SIDE OF THE MISSISSIPPI AND THE SECOND BADDEST ON THE OTHER SIDE. HERE TO SLAY ANOTHER BALL. MISS BANANA SLUG HERSELF. I first found her dangling head over tail from a branch pulling the MOST gravity defying moves I’ve ever seen. Gaga diving in for the Superbowl Halftime Show could NEVER compare. Cirque du Soleil WISHES. As I watched, she contorted herself like the legendary ballroom queen that she is: dipping, voguing, strutting, serving face, mug, body, and all in custom-made Mugler. Truly COMMANDING the room. Gracefully slithering down the leaf, she directed her eyestalks toward me, letting me know that she was watching the judging panel just as intently as we were watching her. That kind of thing takes NERVE, and NERVE is what’s needed in ballroom. As I was squatting in the path getting my entire LIFE and cheering her on under my breath, several other hikers walked by. They definitely heard me whisper “you better fucking get it you bad bitch!!” and promptly walked quickly away. Some people will honestly never understand talent, and charisma, and raw star quality when they see it. Poor illiterate straights. What a sad existence. After handing Miss Slug her well deserved trophies (she cleared every category) I continued on my hike. But honestly, my mind has never left her. I hope wherever she is in the world right now (most likely sliding down the runways in Paris, or aboard a yacht in the Maldives, or potentially sipping a bottle of Veuve in a penthouse in Abu Dhabi (not Dubai, eww, that is so passé)) she is thriving and knows what an incredible impact she has made not only on me, but in the world overall. She is the queer art we need to be protecting in the world right now.

By this point I truly hope that your brain has not completely atrophied from the rot you’ve consumed here today. I can’t stress how enchanting Vancouver Island is. From the architectural smorgasbord of Victoria, to the sunlit pools and shoals of Botany Bay, Vancouver Island is somewhere truy magical in a world that sometimes feels increasingly devoid of wonder. GO I tell you. GO northwestward, to where the Salish Sea meets the sky. Where the towering cedars frame rugged hills of jade. Where according to legend, Miss Banana Slug still struts to this very day, scoring 10s across the board in every category.

Vancouver Island, Canada- May 2025