Death threat to printer

I am this close --> <-- to KILLING the printer here. We are on our THIRD ONE, and the lovely new printer brings with it a whole new set of frustrations. I could almost say that printers are worse than men for making me bang my head against the wall!!! Ok, not quite;) Truthfully, the only time I swear more than this is at other drivers when the roads are shit (like the snowy conditions this past Sunday, sorry you had to hear all that Jen). I wanna take that thing and get it in a headlock and smash it's stupid little printer-face in, body slam it into the ground, jump up and down on it a few hundred times and then pitch that pisa shite out the fricken window!!!

Or this... this scene from Office Space would be sweet sweet justice. Ah, it makes me feel better just to watch that.

So I try to reload up the driver and do 'diagnostics'... and it sends info to the printer and then asks me to click on what response I got, so I pick "doesn't print or prints garbage" because it DIDN'T PRINT. Then it asks if I want to print the log file!!!

Aaack!

Hey, 1990 called and wants it's clothes back...

In going through the clothes at Value Village last week, it would appear that the average time a piece of clothing spends in most people's closets before giving it away is about 16.8 years. That place is riddled with high-waisted/tapered faded-blue jeans and boxy blazers with giant-sized shoulder pads and gold buttons.

I'm not sure who thought wearing jeans that go up to the boobs with a football player's upper body-type inspired blazer was hot on a woman. That goes on the "Not Hot" list folks.

Tweeter and Mofo

Hey so this past weekend, my comic brainchild Tweeter and the Monkey Girl became a reality! I thought for sure that we were going as Sonny and Cher... then Jen said she actually wanted to be a monkey!!! She said it would be funnier (although Jen as Sonny and me as Cher would've been pretty awesome too).

Anyways, here are a few pix... we got 2nd place in the costume contest!!! The creepy gym teacher got 1st, that greasy jerk! Jen's monkey name was Mohoney Foulknersteinenhammerinsky, "Mofo" for short. It was funny to hear people call her mofo all night.









You can see that we had the leash, the tassle hat and Mofo even had cymbals! Haha... as the night wore on, it looks like Mofo's brown wore off!

never drinking again...

This was the subject line of an email I got early this morning.

You see, last night we joined a friend for his birthday. Every year he celebrates it with a week-long smorgasbord of events that he calls "Festival". Last night was the Black Dog event. This morning at 8am was supposed to be breakfast at the High Level Diner (how did he think THAT was a good idea?) And as you could've probably predicted, the guest of honor didn't show up.

He said to me at the end of last night, " You're a bad influence. I can't say how, but you just are. "

What the? What did I do? I just obliged him. When he wanted another beer, I got him one. When he wanted to do a shooter, we went and did one. It was his birthday! Aren't you supposed to be nice to the birthday boy?

Oh I know what you may be thinking right now, don't even go there. He didn't ask for anything else after that... except to go home. Yes, believe it or not he was gonna bail!!! But Jen and I wouldn't let him off that easy. C'mon, we never see him THAT drunk! It was a festival in itself to see that... Instead, we made him play "I've never..." with us for a bit. You learn a lot about people with that game! Ahem. Of course he's forgotten everything that we had or hadn't ever done. At least, we're counting on that.

So this was the 'never drinking again ' email this morning:

No coffee, no breakfast, no nothing this morning. Just a loud head.

I had lots of fun- just sorry my homing beacon kicked in. Tired Keith was starting to show up and he's not nearly as much fun as Slightly Drunk Keith.

Of course, Sober Keith hates both those guys at the moment.

Too funny. Oops, that is, the email was funny Keith, not your pain. Noooot funny.

Halloween costume confusion continues...

So I'm having trouble figuring out a costume still!!!

...Here are some past costumes and ideas to chew on.



Princess Leah... Don't really feel like being her this year. Have the outfit, but would feel cliche. Besides, that was a bad year. I fell backwards on the dance floor (later found out Lee had stepped on my foot)... uh, and did some other stuff I don't feel like talking about right now.



Here's me and Rose with our dates. I was Medusa 2 nights in a row. After sleeping in my costume the first night, it was a little uncomfortable the 2nd. I woke up after my boyfriend's class party, had Subway with a rotten tomato in it (almost got ill and didn't eat Subway for 2 years afterwards) and then headed to the pub crawl with Rose and Nancy and company. It was a good time, but got a bit weird when my boyfriend started making out with a Chucky doll (a DOLL, not a person dressed as one! Which doesn't make it much less creepy). And Rose and I got on the wrong bus for a bit. Oops.



This was Medusa from many years ago! I wish I still had the outfit. It was something from the '70s that my mom actually used to wear! (We used to love dipping into Mom's old clothes for costumes. Princess Leah was an old outfit of Mom's. And yes, it had a CAPE. Capes MAKE costumes.)

So Jen and I can't decide what to be. I have some props for sure. Here, Jen models my fun fur and afro. Pretty classic.



Nancy bought this hat in New York this year and is trying to figure out what to wear with it. She said maybe a cape and go as a Medieval man of some sort. I said she should definitely have the cape, of course, and then she should be a Medieval flasher!!!!



See... she could wear something like this guy is under the cape! Not sure if she liked that idea.

Halloween costume confusion

I have no idea what to be for Halloween this year. I'm NOT going as Wayne again (btw, the look on Nancy's face kills in that pic). For one thing, that hat and wig kept coming off whenever I'd do the required headbanging that goes with the outfit (or try do any kind of fancy acrobatics... that doesn't really go with the outfit). So that's not good, not good at all. I require total freedom of movement.

Come to think of it, most costumes don't hold up under the pressure of my Cirque du Soleil-style acrobatic wizardry.

I know you're going to suggest I be a Cirque du Soleil chick for Halloween... BRILLIANT IDEA!

NOT.

I don't have the physique nor the talent to pull something like that off. I can say "excellent", "shwing" and headbang... but the splits, backflips and balancing on someone else's head is just out of my league. Oops, did I just admit that? Uh yeah, I'm not THAT good of a dancer, even though I talk a good game. Sometimes after a few bevvies I may attempt to balance on someone's head, but usually it's MY OWN.

No wonder I wake up with injuries the next morning, the origin of which I have no clue.

My Teaching Style

The worst thing about teaching would be to appear the idiot. Therefore, I've honed my teaching style to reduce this possibility at all costs. For instance, if you don’t know something or don’t know an answer to a student’s question… don’t fake it. Those little peons will see right through you. Instead, employ one of several strategies I’ve perfected that maintain my genius awe-inspiring status in the eyes of those young, impressionable minds...

1) Answer a question with a question if possible. You can turn their own question right back at them or if you really want to drop their jaws in wonder at your brilliance, ask a related but much more complicated question. If they cannot answer, tell them to look it up before the next class and report back on what they found.

2) Tell them the whole system or the historical basis of it is bullshit. If it’s a fairly formal type of class, use the phrases "unsubstantiated by solid data" or "no evidence to support".

3) Don’t ever show fear. Instead, show anger. You can go off about anything. Either rip on research itself, about how it's a bunch of bunk and you can prove anything with an experiment that’s designed in a certain way and with the right statistics or you can put down other experts in the field. Try not to get personal though, this is strictly on a professional basis.

4) All of the above in combination. Example: Question them on what they know about the research done in a particular area while raising your voice and flailing your arms. Do you know HOW lycopene works to reduce prostate cancer? Does anyone here know the mechanism? Class? Is there any solid proof whatsoever that it reduces prostate cancer in humans, has anyone read the papers supporting this hypothesis?!?!? No of course you haven’t, because it’s all BULLSHIT! Then tell them they have to write a short paper on it to be handed in next class.

Pretty soon they won’t be asking many questions and you look abso-effen-lutely brilliant (and passionate to boot)!

I’ve had students in past classes tell me how much they appreciated my insight and how much they learned from me. Little did they know, they were actually self-taught. And I get a paycheck just for showin’ up. Yeah, I like them apples.

Workin' with a bunch of monkeys?

Some of you may be familiar with my disdain for television commercials. However, these ones from CareerBuilder.com are killin' me!!! The actor in these skits is truly classic.

My fave is this one:



Here are some other gooders:

Monkey Business

Kissing Monkey Butt

Practical Jokers

More Monkey Business

Warning: BORING Blog Tag!

BEEP! BEEP! IT’S ME has done a Blog Tag. Since I don’t feel like thinking of something to write right now, I’ll give it a whirl…

1-Do you like the look and the contents of your blog?

The look has gotten really tiresome, but I couldn’t give a crap right now. As for the content, everyone knows I laugh at my own jokes all the time, so yeah, I do like it. Ya gotta problem with that? Is it egotistical or too proud or sumthin? It keeps me amused for hours on end.

2-Does your family know about your blog?

Yes, my folks found out about it… I blogged it here: Rant Runaway. I wasn’t too thrilled about it, but now my dad is practically a celebrity on here. My sis reads it. Other than that, none of the others give a rat's ass. I’m not taking it personally. If they don’t really love me, I can take it. Sniff sniff.

3-Can you tell your friends about your blog?

Yes, but my friends know me already so it’s not exactly a shocker. I’m never sure whether to give it to people I don’t know very well though, they may think I’m twisted. And hey, maybe I am but there’s a lot more to this twisted package than the twisty part. Riiight. That made total sense.

4-Do you just read the blogs of those who comment on your blog? Or do you try to discover new blogs?

I check out some blogs regularly… i.e. My dad, my sis, Rose, Scott Adams and Garner Andrews. I don’t have time to read much else, though I’ve visited many blogs of those who comment here and they’re pretty cool. My dad is pretty longwinded on his, so any free time I have gets sucked by that.

5-Did your blog positively affect your mind? Give an example.

See #1. Anything that makes me laugh is positive. An example? What, you wanna make me think???? Uh… imagining Jen in a monkey suit STILL makes me lose it a little. Hahaha. Oh geez, off I go again on that. Heeheehaw.

6-What does the number of visitors to your blog mean? Do you use a traffic counter?

I like to know that someone is getting off on my stupidity. If you and the whole world can’t laugh at yourself, then who can?

7-Did you imagine what other bloggers look like?

Uh no. Boring question dude. Kick it up a notch eh?

8-Do you think blogging has any real benefit?

My blog, although insane at times, keeps me sane (rather ironic I know). Hopefully someone else likes it. Hopefully other blogs have more benefit to the world than some ass writing about what an ass she is.

9-Do you think that the blogsphere is a stand alone community separated from the real world?

Another BORING question. Who cares? In some cases bloggers may be more real than everyone else! Ah ha! You tried to catch me in a generalization eh? You sneaky little…

10-Do some political blogs scare you?

Some people scare the living hell outta me. And since it’s real people behind blogs, it stands to reason that some blogs scare the hell outta me. I hope mine scares people. Wah ha ha ha!!!

11-Do you think that criticizing your blog is useful?

Oh I can take criticism. But if you’re just being cranky, then go and try to cheer yourself up somewhere else!

12-Have you ever thought about what happens to your blog in case you died.

It will be interesting. I’m sure I will have posted on that very day, something about getting hit by a bus. Then I’d get hit by a bus. I was real worried on the day I blogged about my thantophobia. You know, worried about some sort of self-fulfilling thing.

13-Which blogger had the greatest impression on you?

No blogger in particular, but I love all the ones I listed above. Again, what kind of boring question is that? I’m starting to get seriously sleepy. Besides, do you think my whole life is blogging or something? Sheesh!

14-Which blogger do you think is the most similar to you?

NO ONE. Luckily for all.

15-Name a song you want to listen to?

That’s a bit personal and off-topic, don’t you think?

I’m gonna add a couple more questions because those were Path-ETHIC.

16-Do you ever blog when you’re supposed to be doing something else?

NO. Ok maybe. I do it instead of watching TV. Or reading. Or working. Or exercising. There, are ya happy? It seems that is what you were getting at all along, isn’t it? I do NOTHING ELSE. Do I imagine what other bloggers look like… well if they’ve gone totally downhill like I have due to excessive computer time and lack of a real life, then I can TOTALLY imagine what they might look like!

Now go and walk a block or something.

What are you doing READING blogs right now? Huh huh? Aren’t you almost just as bad as the bloggers themselves? Do I have a sitemeter? You nosy freak! Well yes I do in fact, and I’m tracking your ass bucko! And I know that you’ve spent 25.6 minutes on my site and probably on hundreds of other sites you pathological blog-reading sicko! Maybe YOU should get a life, like go watch some TV or something!

Tag, you're it. If you want the boring sunnova...

Yay, it wasn't a murder!!!

In my last post I mentioned the 'suspicious death' across the street and subsequent visit by the dashing young cop to my very humble abode where I was caught with my pants down, so to speak. That’s a pretty cool saying, 'caught with my pants down.' That’s totally how I felt. Especially if I wore uggo undies or even, God forbid, went without any.

*Shudder*

Figures of speech are funny when you’ve never heard them before. Yesterday I was telling my friend Vanessa that I’d cleaned my house but it was just a drop in the bucket. She exclaimed something to the effect of, "You dropped the bucket?! How did you do that?"

What the?

That’s not the first expression I’ve had to explain to her either… There’s also, "If I had my druthers" (ok, so that one’s a bit obscure), "dating the palm sisters" and even, "it was an arms-length relationship" just to name a few. Granted, about half the phrases she doesn't understand have some dirty connotation. Oh Van. You're so much fun sometimes.

Anyways, I kind of tangentisized there… back on topic… the murder (turns out it wasn't a murder, which although it's not so cool that someone croaked, it's always nice that it wasn't at the hands of some sicko) and oh yes, the cute cop. In my last post’s comments, birdhead asked me to describe the pretty policeman. Well birdhead, he looked like this:


Note to birdhead: drool can ruin a perfectly good keyboard, or was meathead really smart for a change and get the waterproof kind? Lord only knows what he does in the basement in front of that computer all day...

Ok so the cop kinda looked like that except he didn’t have a beard, or the PJ bottoms (it was me in the PJs), or his shirt off… though if he’d had his shirt off, this is what I would’ve expected (or, uh, hoped for… dammit, when am I gonna get that strip-o-gram!) Oh geez, I totally apologize for where this post is heading. Somehow it weaves its way back to the shameless male gratuitous nudity every time! Plus it's turning into a true rambler. It’s Friday though, what do you expect? I’m all over the friggin place!

Ok, so I put this pair of PJ bottoms on today (working at home again, what a total lazyass... oh and blogging too... I'm hitting the bottom of the barrel in slackerville at the moment). So I was thanking the lord above that I hadn’t been wearing these PJs the day that cop dropped in. They have a huge hole in the ass, but I love them so much that I can't bear to throw them away. So I wear them only when I’m home alone. This is fine except that I had a dream recently that I’d worn them out in public ALL DAY before I remembered (that realization part of the dream where your heart drops down to the bottom of your gut)... oh shit, these are the PJs with the gaping butt-hole! So I turned to my friend and asked if it was noticeable (you always hope they say something like, "what hole?") No such luck. She said it was "blatantly obvious." Well then why the hell didn't you say something?! Thanks for nuthin TAM. How embarrassing.

So the other day it could have been worse I guess, the cop could've gotten full view of my butt crack. Yes, it never fails, I can ALWAYS make myself feel better by thinking of ways a situation could've been worse. I could have literally been caught with my pants open.

If I hear a knock today, NO ONE is home.

Hermit plan foiled!

I've been working at home a lot lately. Normally, this is a good plan... I get up, go straight to work while I sip on a cuppa jo. I don't have to venture into the public eye so it's a total hermit-like freedom-filled existence for the day.

Today, however, the hermit plan was foiled! Extreme self-indulgent sloth gets busted!

I sat there in my PJs, hadn't washed my face or brushed my teeth and had just eaten the most garlic-ridden hummous ever... suddenly I hear a knock. I turned down the music and ventured toward the door. "Hello?" A man's voice answered me. He said it was the police and could I open the door please. What the? I wasn't about to open it to someone who I hadn't buzzed into the building! Finally I cracked the door and peeked out and sure enough, there he was... A very good-looking young man in full police uniform.

Unfortunately, it was NOT a strip-o-gram.

He asked if he could come in and ask me a few questions. I glanced at my apartment. It looked like someone had set a pack of hungry dogs and a jackrabbit loose in there. Normally no one drops by in the middle of the day. I hadn't touched the dishes, papers were everywhere... how mortifying! I finally let him in and told him not to look. He said it wasn't that bad. Liar. (Kind of reminds me of the time the cute repairman was here and he had to go in the laundry room where the cat litter is, and my cat had just taken a big steamy stinky dump. Neither of us could breathe. I didn't say anything but I could have DIED from embarrassment right then and there.)

I guess there was "suspicious activity" across the street last night. He had to question everyone who's apartment faced that direction.

Then came the "interrogation." He kept apologizing for how personal the questions were getting. How much do you weigh was the toughest one to answer honestly... ahem. C'mon! I don't have a scale so I don't know! Truth is I don't just lie about my age, hehe. Guess we're just a couple of liars! He went on... eye colour... he looks over at me and says, "ah, blue." ... at this point I'm wondering how bad I really look today and hoped my breath wasn't going to start making his eyes water. He continued with shoe size, time I went to bed, was I alone last night (was that really necessary to know?), did I hear anything... I told him my whereabouts from when I took a walk around 9pm until that moment. He said, "So you haven't left the house today?" "Uh, no... do I look like I've left the house yet?" We laughed.

After he left I glanced in the mirror. I didn't look too bad considering everything. Oops, my cotton t-shirt was a tad see-through. Oh well.

To top it all off, while he was here, my future supervisor called. This normally wouldn't matter except my answering service message is a bit weird. Shit. Considering he's in obesity research, I'm not sure if he was impressed!!! "You're fingers are too fat..."

So far the hunky policeman hasn't been back to follow-up any leads.

Back to my hermit-like freedom. Yeah, perhaps I should pick up the place a bit. And brush my teeth.


Update: It was on the news... a guy died. They are calling it suspicious. Quite creepy but not unusual since I live in the fricken murder capital of Canada.

Crazy Glue- Not for the stupid

It seems that EVERY damn time I try to use Crazy Glue, there's some sort of mishap. How can so much sticky come out of one little tube? Next thing I know, I'm covered in the crazy shit and spend the next 5 minutes trying NOT to touch anything to anything else, lest it have to be surgically removed!

I think some even splashed into my eye. Wouldn't that be great to have an eyeball glued shut. Apparently it takes 1-4 days for the eye to reopen after such a thing.

I can just see the explanation now- "Uh, hello class... yeah, I glued my eye shut yesterday... and uh, you may not believe me right now, but I'm not a total loser."

Reminds me of when I was a kid and had to explain to the other kids how I got a black eye. "Ahem... my little brother gave it to me."

Then I tried to find a rock to crawl under.

More cards for guys...

As promised in the comments to my post, Card stores for guys, here are a few of my favourites. Click on each picture to enlarge it.







I can't even remember where I downloaded these from!

As funny as they are, I'm sure men would actually end up ahead if they gave any of these cards to their girl after doing something stupid. Guys, if you don't know what you did -- in other words, if she seems mad but when you ask what's wrong she says, "Nothing" and storms off -- then maybe just go with card#3. It would certainly be better than the guaranteed grief that would be caused by this response, "Oh geez, what's the problem THIS TIME?"

And then having to extract foot from mouth (or worse, testes from abdomial cavity).

Advertising your assets

As I rode my bike up the hill, a guy jogged by me all decked out in [spandex] running gear. My eyes were inextricably drawn to his package. It was all flopped out there for the whole world's viewing pleasure. I could hardly believe that I busted myself inadvertently doing the dirty dog sunglasses gawk. This is where your eyes stealthily follow a target with hawklike precision as long as physically possible without actually moving your head. I don't pull this one out too often, but I've seen it done many a time, particularly at topless beaches.

Anyways, after the shock and awe wore off (frankly, it took quite a while for me to feel clean again)... I started to wonder: Why don't all guys have their packages on public display? I mean, with girls you can instantly size up her boobs when meeting her. It hardly seems fair that us girls be kept in the dark about a man's physical attributes.

Sure women wear pushup, padded and even water bras that potentially 'mislead' an onlooker about her assets. It seems right that guys would have this freedom as well. They could buy nut bras for support and even extenders if they really wanted to impress the ladies. However, this could concievably pose a similar problem as when a girl drops her bra to the floor and either her boobs also fall several inches or completely revert to mere nubbins of their former glory. I think it's called 'false advertising'. This is something us girls have been doing for years... between the pushup/padded bras, slimming nylons, high heels and makeup, you boys never quite know exactly what you're going to get, now do you?

Hmmm. Now that I think about it more, perhaps keeping it hidden in your pants leaves us with as much mystery as we leave you with. In the end, it's all fairsies I guess.

Miss Piggy?

A lady I know was complaining one day that she never liked her nose as a kid and admitted to always wanting a small up-turned nose.

I tried to explain to her that there ARE drawbacks to having an up-turned up nose as well. She looked at me like I was totally nuts when I said it… but this nose of mine has been a challenge to accept my whole life.

My first clue about my nose came from, well, looking in the mirror. It definitely wasn't big nose… but it was most certainly a PIG nose. It went straight UP. What really drove this home for me was in elementary school when we would draw pictures of each other in art class. No matter who was drawing me, they would ALWAYS draw my nose exactly like a pig's schnoz.

<-- A freakishly close rendition of my PIG schnoz as drawn by the other kids in art class.

Pretty soon I became painfully self-conscious about it. And the first time I recall seeing my own side profile I almost almost fell over! You see, I'd taken the medicine cabinet mirror and angled it so I could see the sideview of my mug. That turned out to be a terrible idea! It seemed to angle even higher than I'd feared! It angled straight up even when I looked downwards. No wonder some kids thought I was a snob (rather than just shy), my nose was always up in the air no matter what I did!

As an adult, I've come to accept this nose of mine, even after being visually horrified by it throughout my childhood. With my recent nasal acceptance, there are still certain drawbacks that I've had to learn to live with. For one thing, a nose that goes straight up is very exposing. Imagine chatting with someone you really like and then getting in your car and glancing in the rear view mirror… and noticing UH OH… something is hanging there! HOW LONG was THAT hanging there?! Trust me, it can be absolutely mortifying. At least if you have a normal nose you only have to make sure that nothing is hanging BELOW it, I have to make sure that nothing exists in the first 1/3rd of my nasal passages! On top of all of this, I'm fairly tall for a girl, giving most people a clear view of my brain when they're talking to me! I am so sensitive about it that if someone looks at me while they scratch their nose, I think they are trying to tell me something (Um, ahem….You have a serious dangler going on there….). And just think about it… I don't even have the freedom to blow my nose in public, because I always have to be conscious of possible residuals!

Now, in case you still don't believe me that being blessed with this nose is actually a curse … here are a few last bits to think about:

Because my nose is the perfect ski slope, my glasses do not stay in place so I end up doing the nerdy push up thing with them all the time. Also, I don't know if you've ever thought of it this way, but the smaller your nose is, couldn't it be that by contrast effect, bigger head looks bigger? I know my cranium is a little larger than normal, but perhaps my nose accentuates this fact! (or maybe my nose really isn't small, my head is just big…) And think about this, my nose also gets cold faster in the winter. It gets cold faster AND even forms icicles inside it for everyone's viewing pleasure. Yes, I am well acquainted with the secret shenanigans you normally DON'T see going on inside the nose.

Anyways, although this may sound more like a rant than an actual problem, my nose has indeed been the source of much distress over the years. I have accepted it though, and have just learned to deal with its idiosyncrasies. I still cringe at pictures sometimes, and still get embarrassed too… but on the bright side, I've even discovered several benefits to my PIG nose. I could easily go as Miss Piggy for Halloween, no mask required. I can also smell things straight ahead really well. Plus, it actually looks pretty good when people take pictures of me from above (like from a rooftop or a crane).

But seriously, I just wanted to make sure that small upturned noses in general get some empathy rather than just envy. In the end it does the job... it's a darn good smeller!

Card stores for guys...

Oh man... another busy busy day folks. I have two presentations today, life doesn't get much more exciting than this!!!

Sorry but I'm posting another 'off the mark'... These cartoons are killin' me! Some of my friends should get a chuckle at this one!!!

It really is worth it to wander on down to his site and check more out if you want some shits'n giggles. Well, maybe just giggles. If you've recently come down with the Norwalk virus, I'd avoid it at all costs.

Polly wants WHAT?

Sometimes I feel like Polly in this cartoon. If I only knew HOW to ask for what I want...

Alright... Back to crackerville.

I'm tired of crackers.

Boy are they ever dry... Wahhh teeerrrrr, I needdd waaahhh ttteerrrr...

Commercial Conspiracy

Get this: They put Grey’s Anatomy, My Name is Earl and Ugly Betty on at the same time on Thursday nights. Jerkhole network bigwigs! I was perfectly fine with GA on Sundays, I’m usually home Sunday nights... whereas Thursdays you never know what could be goin’ down (it is mini-Friday after all).

I've never seen Ugly Betty, so I figured I’d check it out during GA commercials (her general appearance is not unlike mine in high school- awkward, ugly, braces… but I had raunchier hair).

Guess what? NO GO on adulterous program swapping during commercials. I quickly discovered that dipping into the essence of another show is simply not possible. Somehow the networks have rigged it so they play their commercials at the same time. You heard me right: at the SAME TIME. How do they do that?!? Jerkhole network bigwigs!

So not only are commercials bloody annoying, insanely loud and intrusively frequent, but they all air at the same time and I cannot, therefore, EVER make good use of those 2 minutes that occur 10x/hr. They are just long enough to be completely grueling to sit through, but just short enough that throwing in a load of laundry or taking anything other than a quick pee break isn’t humanly possible. And then just for good measure, they throw in an extra long one, so you sit through the first 2 minutes thinking that you don’t have time to clean the kitty litter (oh… did I tell you about HPV? "Tell someone about HPV!" I'd like to hear that dinner-time convo: "Have you ever had a genital wart?" Actually I don’t mind those ones so much because at least they do some good by educating people) and then they surprise you with ANOTHER 2 minutes so you could have done something productive but didn't know! (Stupid A&W commercials… "Got the Grandpa Burger for you Dad..." "Huh? OH!"... awe isn't that sweet... or the one where they go to the fancy restaurant and then to A&W afterwards for "dessert." ... By the way, you have some slobber on your lip -- I hope you’re not drooling because you think you’re coming up to my place after this, even though I just hosed you for not one but two, countem TWO dinners, wah ha ha ha! Oops, kinda ran on there for a bit).

That's it. I want a TiVo.

Yeah I know, life’s a real bed of roses over here. What can I say?

Supersize the TRANS?

If you're thinking of 'offing' someone- forget adding cyanide to their dinner every night, try a little trans! Let me explain...

A while back, Rose did an entry on her blog called McObesity, where she featured some of the signs people made at the site: RonaldMcHummer.com. Check out some of the ones she picked out at her blog, they're quite funny.

I decided to make my own...



And then I thought, what a great resource for nutrition presentations!!! It turns out that Jen and I are doing an after dinner talk next week on the subject of TRANS FAT. What a Golden Arches opportunity!

This is what we came up with...





It turns out that HALF of the 14 grams of fat in a MacDonald's large fries is TRANS FAT. Holy shit... lightbulb moment! Could it be that the dude in Supersize Me almost croaked due to trans fat overdose, rather than just the daily consumption of extremely low nutrient-per-calorie so-called "food"?



Man, it is SO EASY and fun to pick on MacDonald's!!! And yet people still line up for their own execution. KFC is no better though... ewwww. Get this: Popcorn chicken and fries have the highest possible levels of trans fats at a whopping 18.6 grams! Yeah, in fact you shouldn't eat more than 2 grams a day... so 18 grams would boost your risk of heart disease by nearly 100%! So if you're gonna pop the popcorn chicken, you might as well just excuse yourself from the table, pack your overnight bag and go check yourself into the nearest hospital, indefinitely.

I think it's safe to say that if your husband or wife starts bringing KFC home every night for dinner, it's probably time to have a little sit-down and ask if there's something bothering them.

Hey look, it's Big Foot!

This just in... a huge Sasquatch dwarfed the crotch rocket as he sped through the University of Alberta campus yesterday, terrorizing people wherever he went!!!

Uh, or is that some Chewbacca fraud riding a minibike, inspiring grins and laughter wherever he went? Either way, I'm glad he went by me twice. The first time I was obviously caught off-guard. The second time I had my camera out as I heard the mini-motorbike draw near... Got'em!

Wow. That was really odd.

Poll - The Coolest Video EVER???

A self-professed "Nerdologist" I know proclaims that this video:

OK Go - "Here It Goes Again" ... is the COOLEST video EVER made.

First of all, I'm not sure you wanna take the word of a Doctor of Nerdology on what is "cool." Secondly, I thought it was neat, but I'm not sure it deserves the level of hoopla he gave it. I mean, the coolest video EVER MADE? Was he embellishing just a bit to make a good story out of it? Perhaps my poker face egged him on.

So I checked it out... It wasn't bad but was it really the best? His response? Pure unadulterated protesting RANT.

I told him that I'd take a poll on my blog to settle this. He suddenly backtracked. Ha! Thought so. Funny how he quickly adjusted it to "the coolest physical video ever made." Then he yammered on for an indefinite but lengthy period of time about the interpretive dance (huh?) and difficulty of the choreography.

Tell me people, is it the coolest video ever made?

If not, then I'd like to know what is actually...


P.S. Here's a shamelss plug by Ok Go to get you to buy their slag: Buy OK Go - Oh No at iTunes.

P.P.S. I don't usually do shoutouts for people's birthdays... but as a favour to Birdhead: Happy Birthday Meathead!!! Hope you get to stuff your head of meat with lotsa cake! Oh, and I hope you're feeling better soon Birdhead... no sharting your bed this time, hahahaha! (Uh, if I'm going to get beat up for this one, let me know and I'll take it down ASAP. I will. Although at least if someone rearranged my face today, it would be an improvement. I don't know who keeps sneaking into my room and speedbagging me in the face at night. Eww, that almost sounded rude. Oh well.)

5 things feminism has done for me…

Ok so I've been tagged for a meme. What the? Uh, I don't even know what that means!!! All Rosie said is that she tagged me and so I HAVE TO do a list... Bugger! Feminism is kind of a heavy topic too, but I'll attempt to have my way with it!!! Here goes!

Prelist disclaimer: By no means is this a complete list, I just picked out some of the more obvious ones that might or might not have me stoned in other countries.

Five things feminism has done for me:

1) Taught me that it’s ok (and only fair) for a lady to give AND receive... if you catch my meaning girls!

2) It’s allowed me to have a Blog where I can rant freely about traditionally “unladylike” or “taboo” topics such as: camel toes, gastrointestinal issues (farting, gas, sharts and poo), lack of gratuitous male nudity, female ‘issues’ and even men, virgins, penises, and other sex - related topics! People might think I’m a bit nutty and may label me as a potty-mouthed ho, but a lot less than would have done so 20 years ago (if the internet had existed, that is). To me, 35% of my blog readers thinking I'm a stinky tramp is better than the sure-to-be 85% of the days of yore.

3) Awesome television shows like Six Feet Under and Sex and the City where women’s lives aren’t featured simply as “the love interest” of the hero of the story. It's ok for women to be a bit messed up and struggle with their lives too! And it's even entertaining! (Hence my blog, ahem, did I say 'entertaining'? Maybe that's not the word for it...)

4) It allowed me to venture into higher education and only battle the limitations I put on myself, rather than the limitations of society. I have enough of my own ‘imposter syndrome’ and other issues to deal with inside my own crazy head. I’ve needed others to say, “You can dooo eeeetttt!” (Saturday Night Live-style… sorry, I find that line funny every time I hear it), rather than everyone saying, “You CAN’T do it” at every turn.

5) And finally, feminism has given me the freedom to be an old maid, cougar or spinster without choking down too much flack for it. Sorry Mom and Dad... Well at least you don't have to pay the guy's family a dowry to take me off your hands! Although I’m hoping the day comes when it’s as cool as being an ‘eligible bachelor.’ However, it IS pretty neat that I can date a younger man without it being so poo-pooed. Hmmm, yeah, I like that option… I like it a LOT (oops, I really do apologize for the cheesy movie one-liners, this is getting out of hand. Luckily, the list is OVER)...

Escapee returns to nunnery after year-long experiment with dating

EDMONTON, AB— A local nun has voluntarily returned home after "failing miserably at a year-long experiment with dating", she admitted Monday.

A little-known Abbey in rural Alberta is where Sister Michelin spent a good part of her life. One day, out of the blue, she disappeared. A note explaining her aspirations "to find out what the big deal is about dating, relationships and hopefully, love" was found on the pillow in her residence. That was almost one year ago today.

"The escape caught us totally by surprise," said Sister Mary-Jane, a fellow nun at the convent who speculated on the disappearance of Sister Michelin so many months ago. "She seemed happy here. Besides a couple of altercations, she was a polite, respectful girl. I don't know much about the alleged altercations, but word around these parts was that one of the Abbots walked in on her in the brewhouse drinking beer straight out of the taps. She was doggone drunk by the time they got to her and pulled her off them. Oh, and another time she was caught gambling in the friar house, I don't know much about it but the phrase Texas Holdem was thrown around by a few of the older nuns. Goodness gracious, she almost got kicked out for that one."

"We thought we'd never see Sister Michelin again," commented Abbot Richard, "We were sure she'd either enjoy herself too much to come home, or that something horrible would happen to her like getting married and having a bunch of kids. As it turns out, perhaps something much worse happened and that's why she's back. Whatever it was, it must have scared the good graces out of her." Recalling her behaviour since returning to the convent Abbot Joseph said, "She acted very strange indeed... Stranger than before, that is." He continued after a long pause, "Unfortunately, she won't talk about it to anyone here except to shake her head and mutter things under her breath. All I could make out was something about birds." When asked to be more specific, the Abbot thought hard for a second and said, "I thought it was weird but I could have sworn she said 'that feather cluckin hen with a wish' and 'what a rock chucking cow bird'… Yeah, that was it, I may be half deaf but that's what I heard."

When asked to comment on her experiences, the now reformed nun admits to escaping in an attempt to experience the love of a man. "Harlequin Romance novels and all those Hollywood movies with their happy endings made it all seem so wonderful," she admitted. When asked if she had found love, she went quiet again. Luckily, we were able to slip her a couple sips of "communion wine" to encourage a more open dialogue.

What we saw and heard next was like something out of a movie. That is, the type of movie where you laugh, cry and then it ends really badly. It could only be described as a rambling rant with Jerry Springer show style profanity and over-the-top antics. Chairs were thrown and all the male staff had to be escorted out of the room. The sister concluded her rant saying that Harlequin and Hollywood was just a "huge [profanity] sham and that Penthouse Forum or Girl's Gone Wild was more like what men expect when dating."

After the interview Sister Michelin's eye twitched a little and then she scampered back to her quarters. Her final comment to our staff? "At least I don't have to ride that rollercoaster anymore. My back went out at about month six and I always felt an overwhelming need to throw up."

In an effort to get some perspective, we interviewed a couple of the people Meesh had met and befriended over the past year. An overprotective buddy, Lenny Hambert, had only one thing to say, "It was totally whacksauce! There were many times when I offered to go and get my crotch-kicking boots!" Reese Alivitt, another friend who commiserated with Meesh on several occasions about the trials and tribulations of dating had this to say, "Perhaps they just 'weren't into her'… I just read that book, and did you know that 'busy' is another word for 'asshole'? She sure wasted 'the pretty' on those losers!" A male friend, Nathaniel 'Dancin Baby' Sinklair said, "Meesh? I'd put the blocks to her if given the chance! But seriously, those guys were all nerds, knobs or players… Sorry Meesh, that's just my opinion."

There was a consistent theme to all of her friend's comments: Meesh was a sucker for punishment. It seems that even her father was vehemently opposed to her approach to dating, admitting that he gave her this advice, "You're trading sex for 'crap'. Bad trade kid, better start trading 'up'. I'm certainly not suggesting one be mercenary about this, but there is lots of room between these two extremes." He didn't mention how well that advice went over.

Oddly enough, when we tried to contact any of her former dates from the past year, they were 'unavailable.' Never in journalism have we met with such resistance. Several didn't show up at their scheduled interviews and then failed to return our calls, texts and emails. This is even after repeatedly reassuring them that this wasn't serious and we weren't asking for a major commitment on their part. It was not uncommon for them to end a phone call with "I'll call you later" or by asking "are you free on Tuesday afternoon?" Sure enough, we had one staff member make sure that she was by the phone all week and we didn't receive any calls. We even contacted the phone company to confirm that there was nothing wrong with the line. In the end, that was the last we heard from any of them. We figured that they either lost our number, their cell phones had fallen into the toilet or they were simply just 'very very busy'.

Very strange indeed.