Happy Holidays!

Hey... Have an awesome Christmas everyone! I'm gonna take a little hiatus from the ol' blogging. I suggest you take a well-deserved break as well :)

Serious or Satire?

This article gave me quite a chuckle. God, you have to hand it to The Onion sometimes.

Al Gore Caught Warming Globe To Increase Box Office Profits

Environmental officials claimed that Gore's tire fire in Akron, OH was "completely out of line."

I guess some people have made the mistake of thinking The Onion was real news... The blog “I speak of Dreams” features something called Stupids on Parade, which outlined a few cases where people took Onion articles seriously. It mentions a journalist who actually reported information from the Onion as a news story!!! How DUMB would you feel after that!? This journalist reported that more than half of all exercise done in the United States happens in TV infomercials for workout machines. Hahaha. Oh God that kills me! And another article "Chinese Woman Gives Birth to Septuplets: Has One Week to Choose" resulted in organized prayer vigils on behalf of the six babies who would be tossed off a mountaintop. Good Lord people.

Here are a couple of other articles featuring people who thought The Onion was real news… Anti-Choice Tool Confirms Stereotype and Onion Taken Seriously, Film at 11. Stupidity can be funny sometimes (when it's someone else, that is)...

Geez, that would be almost as dumb as taking my blog seriously!

The Onion does push the envelope, though. This article was a bit hard for me to choke down because I'm such an animal lover, but man you can't help but laugh. I have to give them kudos for their satire skillz!

World's Scientists Admit They Just Don't Like Mice

ZURICH, SWITZERLAND-Scientists announced that experimentation on mice has been motivated out of sheer distaste for the rodents.

Kamikaze

If my neck is sore tomorrow, I'll know why... The culprit? That song 'Nothing Special' by illScarlett. I must have listened to it about 94000 times. That's right, it's now up to 94724 plays on Myspace.com. Can't find it on iTunes though, so I'm forced to go to Myspace over and over in order to feed my addiction to the song.

My neighbours haven't knocked on my door to yell at me yet. The people upstairs can't really complain though, because almost every day lately it sounds like they're up there running around their apartment with cement blocks on their feet (like escapees from the MOB) or practicing wrestling moves on each other (perhaps the Hogan family has moved in?)

It's been far worse the last while than it ever was before, even though I whined about it back then (blog entry: The People Upstairs). Speaking of which, I used to hear them having sex all the time and haven't in a long time. There are 3 possible explanations for this as I see it...
1) They moved out and it's a new crew up there making all the racket, or
2) The couple has passed the honeymoon stage of the relationship and have gone from having sex to having fights, or
3) They moved on from quasi-normal sex to some sort of Kamikaze Kamasutra (I was first made aware of this bizarre sexual practice in the movie Fatal Instinct, God it's been so long since I saw that movie. It's so classic).

Alright... Time to shut the music off and go to bed. Hopefully the Hogans have tired themselves out by now.

mmm choc-lit

I knew I shouldn't have bought people chocolate for Christmas. Now I have to go BACK to the store...

Denial vs. Reality

Sometimes it seems like life is just damage control (and soaking up the little bit of enjoyment in between). God, I couldn't have put it any better than Scott Adams did in his post: My Middle-Sized Problems.

My life = "infinity problems" (read what he says about infinity problems, haha).

And when it comes to my life, Reality is kickin' the shit outta Denial right now. Denial has a near perfect record too! Either Denial has been slacking off, eating pizza and beer, getting all drunk and pudgy... Or Reality has been hardcore on a performance-enhanced sumo-ninja-assassin type of training program. Probably both.

Yikes.

Update: Apparently, quite a while ago, Denial got word of Reality's training program and decided to join a program too... except somehow Denial was a bit stunned at the time and joined some Beverly Hills Ninja/Chippendales training program!!! That explains a LOT.

A Family Show?

Some people have observed that the blog has been edging it's way into the ditch lately (quote, "slow progression towards the pornographic" and "It’s been getting sex centric" and then later "not that I mind").

Anyways, I thought I'd clean it up a bit for today, make it a family show if you will -- my family. Here is an old Christmas picture... Yep, that's me on the bottom left. I didn't realize that the 'up to no good' smirk I often have started it's reign on my face way back then.

Yep, my mom was a hottie (and still is btw). I imagine that she's about my age now in that picture (or perhaps even younger?). Holy, that completely boggles the mind. Mom, you're a total rock star!

P.S. My dad has always kind of looked like he was in the mafia. That was ok, no one messed with us. He looks pretty friendly in that picture though... Looks like happy times, even my sister is smiling!

Tis the season to eat, drink... and eat and drink some more!

I just got back from my boss's Christmas party. Tell me how it's a good thing to have a lunch for a Christmas party, and order two bottles of wine? I'm all FOR the wine drinking, don't get me wrong. However, I'm not sure how productive the writing will be for the rest of the afternoon.

I'm just pouring myself a nice cup of coffee right now, extra strength, extra tall. It must jolt me back into consciousness. Or maybe I should have a quick nap and then get at it? Wine plus TONNES of food isn't the best combo for concentration.

Ah, I don' t need to be dead sober to write a thesis. In fact, if I'm a little tipsy over the next couple of months, it may open the waterfalls of creativity. I'll be so much more relaxed... and well, the computer can take care of any typos, right? After all, it knows how to spell peroxisome and triacylglycerol. Yeah.

My body is officially primed for the season of indulgence. I'd better bring my fat jeans along for the New Year's party. Good Lord. That doctor on Oprah said most people only gain a pound at Christmas. What the? I'm wondering what population was sampled for that study? To gain ONLY a pound? Not possible.

Woops, I just spilled coffee grounds all over the kitchen floor. Yep, this is going to be a stellar afternoon folks. Stellar.

Relationships... struggling through or just trying to have one!

My friends crack me up. Here are a few gems from emails I've recieved from them about the opposite sex, dating and relationships. I hope they don't mind that I've quoted them here!

I am looking for a super smart hotty to support me in my pursuit of the ultimate slack ... jeffereson darcy from married with children style!

At least you can find people to date ...... I have some serious drought issues… I have two kinds of friends... male whores and couch potatoes… none of which provide access to normal girls.

She has a new grad student that's going to start in January that she's bringing to the lunch. IT'S A BOY!! Shoulda worn the extra pushup bra today ... dammit!

My date started at 8 and i ended it at 9:30 haha - so there's nothin to tell there just went for a beer. pretty exciting. he wanted to do somethin like watch a movie or whatever but I'm tired and don't really give a crap. basically I'm just a bad date haha … well I didn't say the give a crap part. just that I had to do some stuff cuz it's busy this week (which it is)… but really what I meant is that I just needed to not do HIM haha. I'm going to hell.

I feel like I never just sit idle except when i go to bed..and even then I am talking talking talking away. Every night [my hubby] has to tell me to settle down hahahah… and the only way I'll do that is if he rubs my bum. HAHAHAHa… I can't believe I just told you that.

Yeah...well we had a good weekend. Lots of farting… so that was a good bonding weekend. Yeah..i was farting without telling him while we were hiking, and I was sure to be in front of him so that it would blow in his face. Hahaha. And they were real ass hair burners… and he'd just go..."OHHHH GOD" hahah. I had a shirt tied around my waist and so when I farted… I would lift my shirt to be sure that the whole fart was released and not lost. Haha I laughed so much... not dissipated too much before contact. As I was hiking... I had to stop and sit.. I was laughing so hard… because I was trying to be discrete...hahah and not let him know and only let him discover the stench. Anyway..so it was a good bonding weekend.

>Is the “walk of shame” actually a walk of shame if you didn’t have sex???
uh-oh hahaha .... why do you ask? I think it may still qualify if you look like crap, to the point where someone might just assume you did have sex.

We went out for dinner... [then later] smooched a bit, more smooching and goodnight. Then went over sunday night watched a movie, major smooching, no skin... loving it. Then he came by on Wednesday night when I was closing the store. we went for a beer. Went back to [his house] for some smooching, a bit of skin was exposed this time, holy crap, he's hot...

He was very sweet with his latest thoughts over the phone yesterday... too bad the connection was crap! you lose a bit of the moment when he's pouring his heart out to me & I keep having to ask "What?" because stupid phone keeps breaking up. It was actually almost comical... poor guy!

I should parent or something, the wife is working tonight. The kid was playing with a bunch of beanie babies that her grandma sent. She just finished calling and thanking them. Now she is practicing with matches or knives. I don't know, I am downstairs.

I think I'll start nursing again out of desperation to shrink the muffin top - Meathead says it's more like a cupcake - which is a compliment from him. He's lost 7lbs in 5 weeks (gone from 3 chins to 2 chins).

I haven't seen him in over 2 weeks now, this is ridic. It's classic alright, can you say "stringing me along"? Might as well have a leash around my neck... although if he had a leash on me, at least I'd get to see him. Or maybe I have the leash, and he's not holding it. Holy, symbolic. So the only thing keeping me there.... is ME. Depressing. I've talked myself into a depression just now. Thanks for letting me talk to me.

And finally... this one cracks me up because it so totally points to the miscommunication between men and women:

Yup, things were going along great. [My male friend] and I even chatted about my boyfriend and how he [the friend] was hoping there'd be lots of pretty girl at the Halloween party bla bla bla, and how he knows we're just friends. Unfortunately at the end of the night he tried to kiss me AGAIN!!! AWKWARD! He did come by the next day and apolagize. Then he said it was my fault because I was sending mixed signals. Apparently this is because I asked him to come up on the way home... yes that is true... but we both had slices of pizza in a box to go and it seemed to be the thing to do to invite him up to eat.(trust me at the end of a night of drinking I don't really put much thought into anything!) When he came up stairs we ate and argued about universities. Personally I wouldn't say that's "temptress" conversation, but what do I know, I was drunk! I did bring this up but he said it was my body language too and that I was leaning towards him. Well, this may be true, but it was probably more a case of me teetering drunk on the floor pillow. So really in my mind it was nothing but apparently it depends on the interpretation. I guess the moral of the story is not to invite guys up at the end of the night if they are just "friends". Doesn't anyone have any self control any more? Or was I really out of line?

One more... I'm not sure where the heck this quote came from:

Positive thought for the day...
When you feel that nobody loves you,
Nobody cares for you,
And everyone is ignoring you,
You should start asking yourself...
... Am I TOO sexy?

Sex on the Solstice... Any takers?

I've decided to do what I can for world peace.

I've heard (see news video here and funny explanation here) that having sex on December 22nd would help out a lot, according to GlobalOrgasm.org... And well, I'm a giving type of person who believes very strongly in this cause. So much so that I've decided it's essential that I do what it takes to do my part. Even if I have to take a few hours off work, clean my bedroom, shave, buy condoms and take a few shots of gin; I'm willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Luckily the boss usually doesn't snoop into our affairs, so I can avoid the awkward moment of trying to explain my absence.

Now, if only I could find an equally self-sacrificing peace warrior to join me in the cause...

Come on, it's for world peace!!!!

What's your bra size?

Could she say it any louder?

Every time I go bra shopping, the salesperson shouts that question, and I’m only two feet away! In fact, she asks it so loudly that the whole room is suddenly hushed in anticipation of the answer.

So it seems.

And then I feel weird whispering it like it’s some kind of clandestine secret. I mean, I’m sure people have some idea of size by having a glance-ola in that general area, but to announce the exact size when strangers or a friend can hear kind of sucks. It’s not so bad when that happens only in front of your boyfriend, because he already has a pretty darn good idea about the size. He probably doesn’t know how it translates into exact specs though. He probably knows it more in terms of “a mouthful”, “a handful”, “two-hand luke” or “my head gets lodged between those giant watermelons!” Ahem, I doubt that last description has been used before, it was something that popped into my head just now, hehe. Hmm, perhaps knowing the exact size would just give him more solid bragging rights. That’s right Joe, I said a healthy, overflowin’ double D… Did ya hear that? DOUBLE D.

Us girls never brag about our boyfriends like that. Ahem…

Announcing my bra size to the world is almost as embarrassing as confessing my age and weight to the guy in the ski shop in front of the boy I’m dating and his friends. I usually shroud that info in mystery (and for good reason, yikes). I’ve even won a few prizes fooling the guy at the ‘guess your weight, guess your age’ booth at the Fair (that’s pretty much the only thing I can win there, although I love to whack those pesky little moles). However, three things prevent me from playing that Fool the Guesser game ever again. 1) You have to admit your real age/weight and I haven't uttered the truth in years. I don't know if my mouth can even form those particular words anymore. 2) He guessed wrong once on my weight: TOO HIGH. I moped around with my tail between my legs for hours afterwards. And finally, 3) The prizes suck. I wouldn’t buy that shit at the dollar store so why pay to try and “win” it?

Blah blah blah. You get my point. I don’t wanna advertise my bra size to anyone, thank you very much! Like everything else, just let me live in my fantasy world... And in my case that happens to be a world with padded underwire push-up bras.

Excuse me, I farted.

How embarrassing would this be?

Lit Matches Prompt Emergency Landing

By Martin Weil
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, December 6, 2006; Page A08

A jetliner from Washington made an emergency landing Monday in Nashville after passengers smelled matches being struck, a Nashville airport spokeswoman said.

Lynne Lowrance, spokeswoman for Nashville International Airport, said that a passenger on the Dallas-bound flight, which had originated at Reagan National Airport, had been striking matches to mask evidence of a troubled digestive system.

I guess the FBI were called in and there were bomb-sniffing dogs... And all because a lady was too embarrassed to admit that she farted. Ok, attention all women out there, let's practice. Say this, out loud 10x:

"Excuse me, I farted."

I know, it's almost an impossible sentence for us ladies to get out. However, if I'm grilled hard enough, I'll admit to breaking the smell barrier. Some mysteries shall remain, however. There's still one fart in a car I remember not too long ago- there were 3 of us trapped in that stenchy hot box and NO ONE would admit to being the source of the sufferage. And it WASN'T ME. I swear!

I sat beside someone on a flight earlier this year and I'm sure it was him who had the silent but deadly gas leak. It came in waves. All of a sudden, there would be this larger than life pungent nostril-violating stench. It was so bad that my eyes watered and I could only describe the air in those moments as being 'thick'. Each time, it took a while for the air to clear. And on a flight there is no way to escape, almost as if being held under the covers by some sicko who thinks it's funny! Anyways, the guy slept the whole flight, but I'm pretty sure he was faking it so he wouldn't have to explain himself. I suppose that's a better option than lighting a match. Since when does lighting a match cover up anything anyways?

Temptation Temptation

I once told a friend, "I don't have a problem resisting temptation, unless something is REALLY tempting. Then I have a problem with it ." The full sentence was out of my mouth before I realized the Jessica Simpsonesque nature of the thing.

Unfortunately it's kind of true. I will stand in front of the freezer at the grocery store for twenty minutes, staring at the many flavours of ice cream while the angel and devil perched on each shrugging shoulder argue the repurcussions of such a purchase- that is, the delight of my palette vs. the size of my butt. I can and have left the grocery store freezer empty handed. However, once it finds it's way to my freezer at home, that 2 litre container of pure joy will be licked clean faster than a fat kid can wolf down a big mac and a coke.

So... to reiterate: I can leave tempation on the shelf at the store, but not on the shelf in my own house. Unless it's not really that tempting, then I don't have a problem with it. Case in point, I don't have the same problem with chips. I can leave a bag of chips for days...

It's a very good dieting strategy, by the way. What you leave at the store has no possible way to end up on your rear.

Alas, it should also be my life strategy. I can normally resist going to brunch or shopping when I have a lot of work to do, but when someone is on the phone telling me they're picking me up in 15 minutes, my temptation-resisting skills go straight out the window like a bad printer in the office of ' Rage-aholics R Us'. The same thing goes for certain situations, let's say, situations where I've had too much to drink. Every stupid thing I've even done has been under the influence of alcohol, err, almost. For instance, 4x4ing with a bunch of drunk guys in the forest is not tempting at all when I'm sober. Neither is stealing signs or pies. I also tend not to scream at players at baseball games or do the running man in front of a crowd of onlookers when completely sober. Oh wait, I never did those things... or did I? That said, you put a normally tempting item in front of me, add alcohol, and buh-bye will-power. Comprendez?

I think they call it "impaired judgment." And mine is impaired by drinking, lack of sleep, stress, PMS, any kind of sensory delight, oxygen and basically being awake. (Notice I said 'being awake', not necessarily 'conscious'.)

So why are 'things' so tempting? Why do we need to 'have' or 'do' everything? Why is it that when we see an ad for something on TV, we have to have it? Can't we appreciate things without the consumption of it? Truthfully, the "you can look but you can't touch" philosophy kills me.

If Michie like; Michie touch. Oopsie; Michie broke.

Ok, that last line just freaked me out. I really don't like speaking in third person, especially in the voice I just heard myself say that in my head. Yikes.


Warning: The closer I get to my thesis due date, the crazier these posts will get. I promise.

Kiss my Balls

Don't like the way I drive? Kiss My Balls!

Step aside bumper stickers. Forget about that pissing Calvin decal. Even flames across the side of your vehicle cannot compare to this... Hang some testes from your Toyota. Stick some balls on your Beamer. Hang huevos del toro behind your Honda .

And you can get them all at BullBalls.com

I'd heard about these things but didn't quite believe it. I mean, can someone tell me what is remotely attractive about balls? No one wants to see that!!! Why does Montana tendergroin need to swing from your hitch? It's definitely NOT the 'pussy magnet' Borat was asking the car dealer about. Last I checked, most women think that testicles are kinda, uh… icky. So why would it be cool, aesthetically pleasing or even desirable to hang a set of balls on your truck? Am I missing something here?

Eeeewww?!

You know what I'm thinking though, if there are enough bizarre people in the world who like this sort of thing (see the "Testesmonials" part of the website), then why stop there? Why not make horse, cat or dog balls? People could purchase the nutsack of their favourite breed, like pet-owners seem to love to do. You could get pitbull gonads or poodle nuggets. Maybe Paris Hilton would splurge on some little brass Chihuahua nuts and dangle them from her purse. Perhaps after you neuter a pet, you could get it as collar-bling. They could be like a replacement pair so little Rocko still feels like he's 'the man'. The balls could even be blue, as a daily reminder that at least with fake ones they’ll never have to experience the pain.

I had to laugh at some of the "ballsy quips" on the site. Other than the 'kiss my balls' one above, here are a few other gems:

Testies...one, two. Testies...one, two. Are these things on ?
If your close enough to see my BALLS, you might as well get into my bed!
It takes two to dangle !
BALLS on mah JEEP make all da GIRLS weep !
Now even girls can have balls !!

Hey, us girls have our own balls! They don't exactly dangle in plain sight, I know. While I'm on the topic, why isn't there slang for ovaries? There are so many terms for the male equivalent, yet women can't say anything like "I just didn't have the ovaries to go through with it." And we can't talk about how big they are or show off their size differential at parties. Hmm, we also can't "freeze our balls off" or get "kicked in the kahunas." I suppose that's pretty cool.

Either way, I won't be decorating my car with gonads of ANY type, thank you.

Michie and the Manbashers

Deneen was in town the other night, so her and Marilyn and I went out for a girl's night. Seeing as how we were all dating people the last time we went out -and ALL of our budding relationships fell flat- I thought for sure it was going to be a night of bashing the opposite sex into an unrecognizable pulp. Surprisingly, it didn't even come up. There were no tears in our beer and no plans of slashing tires or grenading anyone's house. Perhaps we had better things to talk about? It was actually kind of cool and refreshing (that sounded like a gum commercial, or perhaps an ad for menthol body lotion... brrr!) Anyways, I'm sure it helped that we went to Tony's Pizza Palace for my FAVE food. YUM. Pizza always quells the achings of the heart... While building on the expanses of the buttocks. Ah well, that's inconsequential because no one will be seeing us naked for a while anyways! Mmm piiiizzzzaaaaa.

After all that, we can't start our band: Michie and the Manbashers. There may not be enough hatred behind us to get that kind of angst chick band off the ground. Besides, the only instrument I play very well is the triangle, and I can't remember the last time I saw a triangle player in a punk band. This means that if we want to be famous, we'll have to go back to our original idea: a reality TV series. Y'see, a while ago we'd entered one of those home lottery things and said that if we won it, we'd all have to live there. Then we'd have cameras film the lives of us 30-something girls in the bustling metropolis of E-town. The only problem was that our lives seem to be much less exciting than Carrie and the gang on Sex and the City... Therefore, we'd have to call it something like Celibacy and the City. And well, who would wanna watch that? Face it, if reality TV is too much like reality, no one tunes in! People want to see a freak show. Oh c'mon, my life can be crazy sometimes, but a freak show? At least on my blog I can reveal the freak in small doses, and only what and when I feel like it. Documentation on camera would NOT be cool. Except sometimes. Sometimes I'd like to rewind that tape and watch it for a good laugh. Hahahahahaaa. Ahem.

I'm Okay!!!

Just thought I'd let you know that I'm okay. I wasn't incarcerated or held for a psych evaluation or anything since my last post.

I'm workin' on some material... however things have been too busy lately for me to focus and finish any... so in the meantime, I will leave you with another of the cartoons I've been enjoying from that Mark Parisi guy. Topic for discussion: How many times can a product be "new and improved" anyways? And how bad was the original product in the first place? If I was an inventor, should I purposely put out the worst product first so that I can put out 'improved' versions later? And who tastes pet foods? Animals must be used, but they can't tell the R&D people what's wrong with the product. Like, does it need more salt or does it taste like bad fish? Geez, I'd hate to be on the sensory evaluation panel for that one!

Discuss amongst yourselves.