You don't like Mos Def? You crazy, mos def.

Just for good measure I'll throw in some pictures to convince you he's also hot as hell. You feel me?

I'm waiting for the iPhone update before I leave the house so I share some snaps with you while I try to exercise some patience

Dogs should not operate motor vehicles. It's dangerous and my guess is that they don't have a valid driver's license between them.

I say I grew up in Toronto (which is technically true) but in fact I feel this property is where I actually grew up. This is where you would find me every summer, all summer and where I spent all of my school holidays and weekends. I will miss it when it's owned by strangers. (To give you a feel for the size of the place, it used to take me two days to cut all the grass - on a RIDING lawn mower.)

Proof that it is certainly not possible for my feet to be any more puffy or swollen than they already are. Also let this picture stand as proof that I am in love with pedicures.

Really? Seriously? The airbrush fingernail menu stuns me. I wouldn't object to seeing something like this in person though. These days it would be quite an accomplishment.

I can has cupcake cheezburgers? Yes, I can and did! My mum can be thoroughly awesome sometimes.

gruesome

Let us not focus on how ugly this thing is. Forget for a moment that this knick knack is terribly ugly and for it to match anyone's decor they would have to live in one hell of a hot mess. Instead focus on the creepy message and how weird it would be to get this gift if you were suffering the loss of a loved one. You're grieving and someone buys this for you...don't you punch them in the face or never speak to them again?

Crazy, ghetto, YouTube video to officially say, "I Love You, Mary Jane."

PS Sonic Youth, I still love you as well.

Easter? How about some Dead Prez?

mishmash

Bad DIY haiku:

Nail holes everywhere
It's like The Wire in here
Look for the body

Sick of poly fill
Down with cracks and holes no more
Let's live in squalor

Such a lot of holes
Nail parties look like big fun
Must get a nail gun

Ricky Gervais and Elmo:



MORE WELCOME TO MY STUDY!

recently...

Master T spotted at McDonald's...

Old timey cat mugshot...

Riding the subway sleeper car...

My thoughts, as I sit on the couch and wait for the carpet guys to do their thing...

I need an intervention. Please.

I saw Fleetwood Mac the other night at the ACC. It was so sweet it made my teeth hurt. And cry. For real, I cried at the end of the show when they did Silver Springs. I waited all night for that one, and I couldn't keep the tears down when they closed with it. That song was my friend through a really dirty parting of ways with a complete assdouche that, for some reason, I loved quite a lot. Of course it didn't hurt that I had an amazing seat - 10th row, left stage. If it had been right stage I would have been in front of Lindsey Buckingham all night. My Stevie-lovin' self would have been most displeased. In fact, I was so impressed I bought a ticket to see them at the ACC again on the 26th. Yes, that's two Fleetwood Mac concerts in, like, 9 days. And I don't even suspect that it's overkill. I'd have been a fool not to book a ticket for another opportunity to hear Stevie Nicks live. I don't want to think anymore about what this is costing me though. If I thought long and hard about it I would likely vomit at the excess of it all.

But what I really wanted to post about was my plea for help. I need to stop listening to this song and I just can't do it. The neighbours must hate my guts.

Late night at Metro

Maybe if you eat seafood this isn't so repulsive. Maybe if you eat seafood you'd be excited about buying it in bulk, at 1AM. All I know is you'd have to offer me at least half a million bucks to lick one of those scoops. Or the tongs for that matter. Gack.

A confession, with a side of links

I take prescription medication on a daily basis. My cat takes prescription medication on a daily basis. Last night I took my prescription medication, and my cat's prescription medication. I've tried to retrace my steps to determine how this could have happened, but I'm coming up short. Clearly I will have to store the cat's meds apart from my own.

I spent a half an hour on the phone with Telehealth. The nurse I spoke with took a CRAZY amount of personal information before she laughed at me and told me to call a pharmacist. I called four different 24 hour pharmacies before I talked to a pharmacist who actually understood me. I had to admit to 5 different people that I had just swallowed my cat's daily steroid dose by mistake. Given the exposure my cockup has already had, I feel okay about sharing it with you.

Now to the links...

How to survive a strangling on Ask MetaFilter

All about gin (the alcoholic beverage, not the card game.) I tried gin for the first time last year and my mouth really likes it.

'S awful nice! 'S paradise! 'S links I love to see!

You've been warned, workaholics: Long hours link to dementia risk

It almost seems like someone is telling me a lie: 11 "Modern" Technologies That Are Way Older Than You Think

10 of the Most-Covered Songs Ever

Gosh, I love me some abandoned stuff and this is awesome: The Ghosts of Antarctica: Abandoned Stations and Huts

"Oldest English words" identified

News to my doodlin' ears: Study: Doodling Helps You Pay Attention

This is probably old news to most but it's still worth posting: Scientific Attempt To Create Most Annoying Song Ever

Everest climber returns to mountain to bury woman he was forced to abandon 9 years ago

1709: The year that Europe froze

10 Things Science Fiction Got Wrong

everything is amazing and nobody is happy

I did not take this photo...I ganked it from the website of a dude who (I believe) once borrowed my lawn chairs for a condo warming party. I guess I figure maybe he kind of owes me. I certainly feel blessed to have this photograph to cherish, and I stole it with only the best of intentions.

It's been a year since the man pictured above passed away. We once planned our wedding together, but I never even got the chance to say goodbye. I can't tell you how painful that is. Let this post stand as proof to me that there may not be another time, there may not be a tomorrow when you can make the time to catch up. Life is nothing if not uncertain and fleeting. We should love the ones we love now. We are foolish to wait for the chance to do it another time because things like death are very effective at stealing chances from us. If we wait, we may never have the chance to thank someone for all they've given us. If we delay, we might not ever have the chance to say thank you for helping to make me the person I am today.

He was Papa to my kitties, the boyfriend against which all other boyfriends will be compared (by my parents, that is) and he was the sweetest Donkey I'll ever know. Deep down inside I am so angry that I spent so much time hounding him about paying back his student loans, and riding him about the amount of time he spent at a poker table. Had I known he'd only be here a short while, the loans wouldn't have mattered and I'd not have uttered a single word about his poker habit. There are so many things I'd have done differently, but death certainly has a way of sobering you and making you more generous than it was possible for you to be in the moment, when you were ignorant and life was something that stretched on without a fathomable end.

He loved me well. Maybe too well, at times. But it still lingers. His capacity for forgiveness, his habit of being generous was an amazing way to be loved, and I try to treat people with the same consideration and compassion he had for me. Even when things came to an end, when we couldn't work any harder, when we couldn't give any more to salvage our relationship, he still found it in himself to love me and try his best to give me a good life. He was an amazing person, and the love goes on and on, even though I will never have the chance to tell him that.

I don't know what happens once we step off this mortal coil but I hope wherever he is, he knows I love him still.

you didn't tell me, and that hurts

I just ate baby brussel sprouts for the first time. I had them at dinner tonight. For real they are incredibly good. So tender, so tasty, so WHY the FUCK were you keeping them from me all this time?!

Did you know about these things?

If I'm talking about something you've never heard of, get yourself to the market and get some of these little bastards. They are so good in your mouth you will chew them and shake your head in disbelief and you will wonder how a vegetable can be so bloody satisfying.

Promise.

Let's talk about sharks.

But only briefly. They make me nervous. I blame this entirely on my parents who allowed me to watch Jaws when I was no older than 5 or 6-years-old. You're thinking, "what adult would allow a small child to watch such a movie?" The same adults who took me to the theater to see Invasion of the Body Snatchers, that's who. Now that I think back on it (and can CLEARLY remember Invasion of the Body Snatchers from inside my turtleneck sweater) I think maybe my parents didn't really like me very much. I mean, why else would you torture your kid like that? What rational adult would allow a kid to see movies like that? I ask you!

Sharks. Right. Jaws. Holy holy. After that, I was terrified of all water. ALL water. Even the freshwater lake I grew up on. Even though everyone tried to assure me that sharks could only live in saltwater, I was not at an age where that kind of reasoning worked. Obviously, because I remember getting stuck in an elevator around that time, and my biggest fear? A shark coming out of the vent in the ceiling, to attack me. Shark in an elevator. Hmm. I DO remember my irresponsible parents allowing me to watch SNL so I likely caught that fear from the "Land Shark" skits. "Candygram." Heh.

Anyway, even though I was little I had a sense that I was being silly but I just couldn't help myself. As soon as I found myself in a tense situation my brain went to, "SHARK ATTACK!"

Seriously stupid parents. Really, really stupid. I don't know how I'm going to get my revenge, but mark my words I will. One day. And if it plays out really well it might involve a shark tank.

As an adult, I am dead scared of sharks. As a kid and teenager I somehow spent a lot of time in the ocean, but now? Oh, fuck no. Sharks don't come into my house and I don't go into their house. I've made a deal with them and it's working well for me thus far. Frankly, I think of all the time I spent snorkeling off the side of a boat along the Mexican coastline and I almost vomit. I don't even know what I was thinking. I don't know how I suspended the terror long enough to mask-up and float and paddle around like bait. Bait for sharks. SHARKS. Jesus.

I think the last time I was properly in the ocean was in the Bahamas. I had it in my head that I was going to walk into the ocean and swim out as far as I could. The people watching this stupid spectacle from the shore did not step in to stop the tomfoolery. As I was swimming farther and farther out into the blue I started to hear my brain scream, "IMPENDING SHARK ATTACK!"

And I got scared. Really scared. JAWS, bitch. And when I got scared, I got weaker and the beach was so very far away. At the time I was a really strong swimmer but the thought of "JAWS!" tired me out, and I started to feel myself being pulled under. I got weaker and the tide grew stronger. Like the fucking sharks PLANNED IT that way.

I remember holding my breath and struggling to swim towards the shore, towards safety. Towards places sharks can't go. The water was stinging my eyes, filling my mouth with salt I couldn't swallow away and it was right there and then that I swore off the ocean. As the waves pulled me under, I promised never to tread on shark territory so long as I should live.

That day I made a deal with God and the sharks and I swore so long as I got back to the beach without meeting a shark, I would never, ever go in the ocean again. Of course I did make it back to the beach (bathing suit and hair full of sand, mouth and lungs spewing ocean water) and I have kept my word.

Although I went into the Bay of Fundy, up to my knees, once. That was just a few years ago, actually. But it's a good thing it was hella cold and the tide was going out, or I would have gone for a dip. I would have entered the shark's home. I would have broken my word, and in doing so would have surely encountered a shark. I would have had real reason to shout, "SHARK ATTACK!" and I would have been a bloody mess. Literally and figuratively. Don't try to talk me out of this notion, I am convinced of this.

And you're thinking, if you know anything about geography, "it's fucking COLD water and it's a BAY so worrying about sharks is lunacy!" Um, but, I am here to tell you that great white sharks are known to the Bay of Fundy. Sure, they're only spotted every couple of years or so...but isn't "every couple of years" just a little too often for you? Me too. So it's a good thing I only went in up to my knees. Looking at these pictures, it's a damn good thing.

Do these photos I've found and posted make you want to cry? They make me want to cry. They also make my ass clench up and they make my stomach turn. I can look at these pictures and actually shudder. For real, not just as a figure of speech.

Want to know a secret though? I mean, I've already told you about my irrational fear of sharks but I'll tell you one more nonsensical thing...

I like looking at these pictures. They scare me to death. And I dig that.

A lucky motherfucker, for once and Kevin Smith's got kick

At the beginning of the month I made a bold move and bought a ticket to see Fleetwood Mac (at the ACC in March.) Shut up. Seriously, shut up. Do not talk smack about Stevie Nicks, I refuse to hear it.

I spent way more than I wanted to, to be honest. I was thinking of a ticket in the $80 range but they were all so seriously suckariffic at that price point that I had to spring for a floor seat. I ended up spending $169 to be on the floor, in the 10th row. I'm pretty happy about that but considering I am on a MISSION to save as much money as possible in the next 6 months or so, it was a really irresponsible purchase. Seriously, there is a drastic tightening of the purse strings going on around here so that kinda makes spending $169 on Fleetwood Mac a bit silly. But, Stevie Nicks isn't going to live forever you know so, get it while you can.

Alas and alack, the ticket to Fleetwood Mac ate upmy entire entertainment budget. (That rhymed but that wasn't what I was going for.) I wouldn't have been able to justify a ticket to see Kevin Smith at the Bloor Cinema, let alone one of his spendy (!) shows at Roy Thompson Hall where I saw him back in aught three or aught four.

In case you didn't know, Kevin Smith was in town for two Q&A shows at RTH and he was at the Bloor Cinema for three days, doing 1/2 hour Q&A sessions after every one of the six movies that were screened.

For your information, I think Kevin Smith is fucking brilliant at his Q&A gigs. Frankly, I'm far more into Smith as an entertainer than I'm into Smith as a filmmaker/director. I'm not saying his movies are crap (well, not ALL of them anyway) but I really dig Smith himself above all.

Anyway, I was feeling pretty low about not being able to see him at my favourite theater in the city...UNTIL I WON TICKETS TO EVERY FUCKING VENUE HE WAS GOING TO BE AT. Sha-ZAM, motherfuckers! I never win ANYTHING. I also never answer my phone if I don't recognise the phone number...so it was totally weird and out of character that I actually answered the phone when the Bloor called to let me know I'd won their contest.

Naturally upon answering and hearing I'd won a contest, I got a little bitchy. Like, don't fucking try to scam me with your free vacation bullshit. How stupid do you think I am? Luckily I managed to get nice quick enough to be told that I'd won their Kevin Smith prize package. Huzzah to that!

At Roy Thompson Hall

The show at Roy Thompson Hall was very, very good. Fourth row, centre stage, bitches. To everyone I invited who wasn't able to come or didn't respond I say, "you fucking suck so bad and you don't even know it." Although being so close meant I could hear Mrs Smith and Mrs Mewes talking and giggling like a bunch of assholes backstage which really pissed me right off. All the people in the room who are here to see your husbands? Yeah, they pay your bills so...you know...how about you shut the fuck up. Terribly rude of you, ladies. Sheesh.

Smith and Mewes fuck around with their iPhones and make me feel better about downloading the lightsaber iPhone app myself

This is getting really long. I just wanted to crow about winning a contest, I didn't want to write an essay. I will say that the screenings and Q&A at the Bloor were total genius. Totally. I feel very blessed that I got to see all of them because it was such a very good time. I also feel blessed that the screenins were at the Bloor and I could smoke in the theatre. That's always a bonus.

In summary - I'm a lucky bitch for winning that contest because I was feeling sorry that I wouldn't see ONE Q&A at the Bloor Cinema and in the end I got to see the big top event at Roy Thompson Hall AND I got to see all six screenings and Q&A sessions at the Bloor. Wicked lucky, me.

I believe this picture (as it were) was taken just before Smith walked to the back of the stage and wiped his sweat off on the stage curtain

And for some silly reason I couldn't be bothered to bring a decent camera to any of the shows so your eyes have to ooze pus looking at what a crap job my iPhone did...sorry to subject you to it.

random

+ It's not bad enough PJ'S PETS sells diseased, broken, sick and sad animals...they have to offer FREE GAS at Petro Canada to all the raving morons who are stupid enough to buy a pet there. In case you didn't already know, do not buy animals from pet stores. It's a bad idea. Seriously bad. Google it, if you don't buy what I'm sellin' as truth.

+ Who's listening to the audio of Christian Bale freaking out and dropping the f-bomb like a motherfucker? Who wants to hear Batman lose his shit? I think that's very wrong. I will not let some guy freakin' out ruin a whole franchise that has been very good to me. Batman does not lose his shit like that and if I don't listen to the leaked nastiness, Bale can stand as good-old-smokin'-hot Batman and not batshit-crazy Bale.

+ I am WAY close to being 34-years-old. I don't even know what to say to that.

+ Mr Mew goes back to the vet next week. I am very afraid that he has lost more weight. I do not want him starving to death, but I am really, really not ready to say goodbye.

+ I totally listened to Bale freaking out. I think I'm meant to be shocked or something, but I seriously don't give a damn. I mean, it's Batman - he can pretty much do what he wants.

+ I sat across from this guy on the streetcar one night. His hands were just...unreal. His fingers, I kid you not even a little bit, were bigger than most men I've been with. And by "bigger than most men I've been with" I mean to say his fingers were longer than most of the dicks I've seen in my short life. Bizarre.

+ I was looking through my crafty shit and I found a box I'd embellished to hold a book that I bound myself. A lot of time and love went into making both. But something inside me obviously knew where things were heading and I never did hand them over to the intended recipient. And I realised, as I leaned over to reach the trash can, that I haven't even thought of the recipient with any kind of love, fondness, animosity or resentment for a number of years. As I was examining both pieces one last time and getting ready to finally toss them in the bin, a rogue song that snuck on to my playlist kicked in. It was Carly Simon singing, "You're So Vain." Which was highly appropriate. No, really. It's INCREDIBLY fucking funny when the box and book were meant for the vainest of the vain. You simply can't call yourself a "genetic masterpiece" and NOT be the vainest of the vain. When I think of it now I want to hurl. If you've ever watched someone stop at every reflective surface they pass just to stare at themselves and drink in their own good looks, you know the vain nature I speak of. Sigh. He gave away the things he loved, and one of them was me. Sing it, Carly.

Marvel vs DC - the difference

Deaths on the Movie Set

the joy and the sorrow of it all

Mama got a new pair of glasses. They are pink. There are rhinestones embedded in the frames. I'm not joking. If you think I am cool for having fake diamonds on my eyeglasses, that's because you have half a brain. Also, I got six more pairs of glasses just because I could. Now that I'm actually wearing a pair all the time, I am amazed at how totally blind I am without them. Prescription glasses, I find you to be quite awesome.

And while I am excited about the new specs, I am sad that I am really too lazy to have blonde hair. It's a known fact that I don't like to call people on the phone, but I should really make an exception when it comes to my colourist. The whole thing makes me plant my face in my hands and cry. On the inside, only on the inside.

something just happened

So it's me, the cat and the iPhone all hanging out on the couch, just catching up on friend's flickr streams when I notice the battery indicator on my phone is reading, "all full-up."

"Wow," I think to myself as I shake my head in wonder and awe...

I said aloud, to no one in particular, "I'm certainly fucking that last battery charge UP THE ASS because I've been on this thing ALL DAY!"

And then what happened was, the battery died. No warning. It just died. Just like that. Suddenly, I found the internet gone. And I waved my arm around, but I could not reach the cord to recharge and power-up without standing up from the couch. So what I had to do was stand up. On my legs. I even moved them and there was a point where I had to bend at the knee.

Um, standing up? Really? I have to stand up and move my body to access the internet? I call nonsense. I call poppycock. People have rights. Like the right to internet access, from your back, on the couch while nesting in many blankets and nursing a glass of scotch.

(I want to say, "I won't stand for it!" but I made this resolution for aught nine to stop the bad play on words, so make like I never mentioned it.)

random pictures to share with you, because I am kind

Poor shaved, almost naked cat.

How I watched TV last night, even though the furnace was humming like a bitch. I had a hat, scarf, three layers on my torso and two layers on my legs plus socks with slippers just to be on the safe side. Ridiculous. Although I was ready to leave the house at the drop of a hat. Oh man, did I just type that? My sincere apologies, that was terrible.

Waiting for the doctor.

my holidays in numbers

+ Number of dead, not to be revived cell phones: 1

+ Dollars required to replace conked out cell phone with a fancy iPhone you'd not be able to pry from my cold, dead hand: $200

+ Number of days before Christmas that both the DVD player and TV croaked: 3

+ Cost to cancel flight to Halifax for New Years due to ridiculous crap being thrown at me by my host: $100

+ Credit I am now carrying with Porter Airlines due to cancellation: $250

+ How many times I strongly encouraged other people to buy a huge new TV so their old TV could become my new TV: 193

+ Christmas gift cash: $325

+ Number of times I have had to spend Christmas day alone, due to illness: 1

+ How many times I threw up on Christmas eve due to coughing like a TB patient: at least 4

+ Amount I spent on a check-up for the cat one week before Christmas: $250

+ Crazy amount I spent on cat ultrasound and medication two days before Christmas: $850

+ Number of lymphomas growing inside my cat: 1

+ Amount I spent on stuff to take to Halifax for gifts and holiday celebrations that went to waste: $100

+ How much I went over my holiday gift buying budget: $200

+ Number of thank you cards that need to be penned and mailed: 8

+ Number of thank you cards that have been penned and mailed to date: 0

+ How many days left until Christmas this year: 345

+ Bottles of bourbon consumed in the month of December: 2

+ Minimum January credit card payment from insane charges for Christmas gifts/vet bills: $400

+ On a scale of 1-10 (1 being least excited and 10 being most excited) how excited am I to celebrate Christmas in 2009: -18

Edited to add:

+ Total number of presents I gift wrapped: 34

+ Times I accidentally got drunk at a Christmas party: 1

+ Christmas cards received: 14

+ Christmas cards sent: 18

suck it, douche

Sean Avery has been suspended indefinitely. I read about it in the paper this morning and I was like, "ha ha ha." Apparently his hearing is scheduled for Thursday. That makes me go, "ha ha ha."

It seems the NHL could expel him from the league, fine him a million bucks or terminate his contract. If it comes to that I will be all, "ha ha ha, you skating DOUCHE."

frak!

Praise be! The spin-off series "Caprica" is going to happen!

ALL of them.

Watch all of these immediately. If you don't laugh, I probably don't like you.

Sweet baby Jesus!

Finished, finished, totally and utterly finished my Christmas shopping! In November! On the last day of November yeah, but it still counts, fucker.

Granted, I cheated and ordered a lot of stuff online...but it still counts as people crossed off my list, even if I'm waiting on Canada Post to live up to their end of the bargain.

Now to start the mammoth task of wrapping and assembling everything. I'm thinking it would be awesome if I could just throw everything into crumpled brown paper lunch bags and label them with an old leaky pen...but I don't think I'll follow through on that thought. I'm so very anal when it comes to wrapping gifts that it will likely take me the month of December to get it all "just so." It's time to celebrate the holidays and my goal of being utterly perfect in every way possible including having the ability to present presents that look like they were wrapped by the big man himself. Not God, I mean Santa.

Oh, wait...I've lied a little bit. I need to hit up the bead shops on Queen West to finish the jewelery I'm making. But I'm going to say that doesn't really count as Christmas shopping just because it's fun to poke around in those places and buy a bounty of beads for projects that I will never even start, let alone finish.

Still, a severe and most powerful sense of satisfaction is radiating from me as I type...

Despite what you learned in typing class, stop using two spaces after a period. It’s nothing more than a habit – one worth breaking.

worth the click

70's Rock Musicians and Their Parent's Homes

let's you and me youtube together

I sing this song to my cat. A lot. He hates it. I don't care.



The cat is also subjected to snippets of the Stevie Nicks/Don Henley duet, "Leather and Lace." He also hates that very much. Can't say as I blame him but again, I don't care. (I was going to post the real deal but then I came across Dave Grohl and Will Ferrel's version and it is naturally much better.) Also, I think I should sing more duets to him, more often. Feel free to share wrong duets with me that I should learn.



I have not actually listened to this in years, and yet every so often it plays in my head without any provocation whatsoever. Of course, now it will happen more often since I've listened to it. I'm stupid. Here, poison your brain along with me...

no kidding

Today my therapist asked me if so-and-so had called or emailed since we met last week. I told him no, there hadn't been any calls or email, just a text message. My therapist shook his head and said, "coward."

I nodded my head, and laughed.