October 30, 2006
Makey No Sense
Last week Jem (He's truly, truly, truly outrageous!) and I went down to PharmaPlus for some Hallowe'en stuff. Upon our return, another co-worker asked us the question typical of nosy grown ups with a lack of imagination for which there's never a good answer.
Co-worker: What'd you get me??
Stinky T: ....Tampons.
Jem: Wooooo! They could be super!
Co-w: I don't want those! I thought you'd tell me you got something good, like chocolates and chips!
Stinky T: ....Chocolate tampons?
Uproarious laughter ensued. Too much information? Just trying it on.
Ooh, on the way home from the GO station today, my ride and super cool neighbour stopped at the gas station to put a few splashes in his tank. I smelled Timmy's and almost started drooling. It took quite a bit of inner and physical strength to not bolt from the car and latch myself onto the teats of their french vanilla capp machine. See? Hormones, it drives you to lust for crazy things and at the most inopportune times. Why didn't I just get off my ass and go get one you ask? I can't answer that, but only because at the moment my mind said it would be incredibly wrong to do so. I bet you're beginning to see how pointless it is to try and figure out the female psyche, sense we no makey. I plead insanity, all the while cackling and pointing at the third toe on your left foot.
On the weekend while running errands I needed a french vanilla capp and two honey crullers. Mr. Stinky and his brother Jeep looked at me in disbelief and probably some disgust when I insisted that I absolutely needed two. They asked with some trepidation if maybe I was planning on saving the second for later and technically they weren't wrong coz only one fits in my mouth at any one time. If I was the crullersaurus then those suckers didn't stand a chance, they disappeared in an extremely ugly fashion leaving me to brush the sugar off my crazy lipstick-smudged face. What?
We should probably stop right now before I do some irreparable damage. I mean, it's no stretch of the imagination to say that you've been told more than you want to know and you either feel the need to sit in purgatory for weeks on end after reading what I write or go straight to the do-it-yourself route and scrub yourself raw with soap. Hey, remember in A Christmas Story when Ralphie had his mouth washed out with soap because he got caught swearing? After watching that movie I went home and licked some soap just to see what it tasted like. Don't do it.
One more thing. This, which I totally hyped up but you've most likely forgotten by now will come soon. For better or for worse I promise I'll spill and rock your world.
October 26, 2006
Catertainment
This morning as we were getting ready for work he came into our bedroom, a place he's usually not allowed to venture into without supervision due to a propensity for peeing on our duvet. He knows what "out out out" means and is good with high tailing it out of there when he hears these words. Sometimes we'll stomp on the floor too for added emphasis and/or urgency, he's not all stupid.
Things were no different today than any other day. As Mr. Stinky was finishing up in the bathroom I went to chase Iggy out. I must've scared him coz he took off like a bullet and ran full tilt into the door, it was only opened about halfway. I stood there and watched as he mashed his face into it, bounced off sideways and landed facing me, 180 degrees off from his intended course. I'll let you decide what my reaction was:
> Filled with bucketfuls of concern I rushed over to pick him up, covering him with tender kisses and hugs, making sure that he was OK.
> Face the camera to exclaim: "That's our Iggy!!"
> Stand there looking at the cat and bursting into hysterical laughter so much so that when Mr. Stinky asked me what happened it takes several attempts to tell him what had just occurred.
Needless to say, Iggy's reaction to my pointing and laughing was a hurt expression on his cute, little face and another black mark in his book beside mommy's name. I'm thinking that page should probably be completely black by now.
Incidentally, this story isn't much different from the time we went over to some friends' place to watch UFC in the basement with the lights off.. they have a projector TV. I was shooting the laser pointer on the walls to entice their cat to dash around and moronically chase the red dot when I decided to spice things up and switch to a wall on the other side of the basement. Ever hit glass so hard that it reverberates with that distinctively deep, musical boo-oo-o-ngg-g!? In the dark I didn't see that someone had left the glass door of their TV stand opened and the cat took a header into the thing.
I swear I'm a cat lover but there must some dog lover voodoo going on... oh well, as long as they keep providing me with lots of entertainment it's all good.
October 25, 2006
Black Wednesday
Problem: I just did laundry Monday night. Wash pile fresh out.
Solution: Make wash pile. I ransacked the house looking for things to wash, and gathered enough to almost fill the machine. Not a very cost-efficient activity and I'm all about saving money and energy (because it costs money) - we'll discuss my affinity for coupons, discounts and price matching another time - but I needed this sweater to be clean. There's no sense in trying to rationalize it and sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do. Besides, as a proud female I completely accept that there are occasions when I make little or no sense though I'm usually very practical. Does that bother me? Not so much. Do women in general bother me with their predictable unpredictability? Yes, but let's not dwell on such trite matters.
I'm wearing my new and freshly laundered black sweater today. Look at it, admire it, envy it.
October 23, 2006
Candles in the Curry
Not sure what she's riding, eating, sleeping with, sleeping where, etc. but I hope she doesn't have Traveller's Diarrhea... I hear that stuff's nasty, but then if you make a mess I suppose you could always blame one of the wandering cows for their impertinent sphincters.
Enjoy your birthday curry, H. See you whenever you come back.
Screw Pacifism
Chuck Norris Facts (a sample to whet your violent nature)
> Guns don't kill people. Chuck Norris kills People.
> There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of animals Chuck Norris allows to live.
> Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
> The chief export of Chuck Norris is Pain.
> There is no chin under Chuck Norris' Beard. There is only another fist.
> Chuck Norris has two speeds: Walk and Kill.
> Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
> When Chuck Norris does a pushup, he isn’t lifting himself up, he’s pushing the Earth down.
October 20, 2006
October 19, 2006
Key in the Ignition
Something big.
Something big is happening soon.
When it gets figured out I'll let you know.
Stay tuned.
October 18, 2006
Running on Empty
Think of me as your toilet… or better yet, the toilet at your friend’s place whom you’re visiting. See, when you do a number two but you don’t want everyone else to know that you did one and you want to get out of the washroom real fast coz not only did you do a real big, stinkified job but the longer you’re in there, the more obvious it becomes that you weren’t just interested in making a tinkle and oh wow, hopefully nobody needs to use the toilet too in the next few minutes before the air clears coz your contacts are fogging over in your eyes but crap! one flush wasn’t enough so you keep pushing the lever down to will the stuff down the hole but it won’t go coz the tank hasn’t refilled yet! That’s me, that’s exactly where I am right now. If you’ll just be patient, my reserves will fill up again and I’ll have more crap with which to shove in your face and entertain you. Right now though, I’m sitting here making poopy analogies and typing run-on sentences that would no doubt send any literary stickler into convulsions of consternation due to the linguistic mutilation going on.
I’ll let you know when the tank has been refilled. Hopefully soon too. Too many posts revolving around toilet issues lately.
October 15, 2006
Girls’ Night Out With Bacon and Pie
Fucking Blogger, I finished a post and the site loses the whole thing. Now I gotta remember what I wrote but it won't be same…
Recently we had a girls' only night out. I love these dates with Emma because it gives us the opportunity to talk freely and gossip with abandon. No distractions, no superfluous explanations, no having to give background information, and no censoring occurs at the table. We understand each other so well that we can cover a lot of ground in a short span of time and I can totally assure you that we were indeed industrious with the topics.
Felt like fries, ordered a Cowboy Burger which was topped with bacon. Ever since the Bon Echo trip I’ve been craving bacon. I normally don’t eat bacon since to me it’s strictly a camping food and it’s messy to make but it spoke to me from the menu. We didn’t have any bacon on our trip. We had peameal bacon, or as you Americans call it, Canadian bacon but not bacon bacon. And this isn’t to slam Goose since he asked for a menu review which I (sort of looked at and) agreed to, and made all the meals but on the best of days we barely manage to pay attention to him anyway so… oh, sorry. Not important, not important.
So I separated the bacon and burger, ate the latter and came back to the first. If we hadn’t been in such a public place I would’ve spat it back out. It was wrong, the timing and the mood were both completely wrong. Needless to say the rest of it got tossed. Sorry bacon maker, but it just wasn’t what I wanted. I pouted and Emma sympathized... she look at it but didn't touch either and had wanted bacon on the camping trip as well. We agreed that next time there would have to be an abundance of bacon so that we could gorge ourselves bacon-happy.
And maybe no strawberry rhubarb pie either, I’m good if we stay away from that stuff for awhile. Heck, let’s just take pie out of the equation completely; we lost half of it anyway. Well… if you want to get technical I probably ate and subsequently “lost” about 1/3 of it myself before we lost the second half of the pie so it would’ve been almost the entire thing that got written off. What happened, you ask? Such apt students, a good question indeed. What follows is hearsay since neither Emma nor I bore witness to the event. I do remember looking at the ground and my shoes a lot, something down there must’ve been fascinating, and she was trying her best to hold me up (sort of) when a couple of raccoons decided to join the party and eat some pie… which had been forgotten and left out of the picnic table. Duh! We're normally very good with putting food away but when the alcohol hits like that pretty much everything else falls by the wayside very quickly. We were regaled with tales of Mr. Stinky and Goose fighting valiantly to rescue the damsel pie in distress from the marauding pirates via kicking (Mr. Stinky) and throwing empties (Goose) at them only to lose the bounty to the bandits who left with full bellies and probably sore rumps too. All this while I was feeding nature…
Only a whole bunch more months before we can go camping again! With bacon! And no puking! From me anyway… and I want to see how Emma tackles the squirting wiener next time! Another event I missed due to having been passed out. We should put a moratorium on fun stuff that happens when I'm incapacitated because it should be about me anyway, right?
Psssst! She doesn’t have to read this…
October 13, 2006
You Can't Make This Shit Up!
Thanks to Adobe Photoshop and Mr. Stinky's graphic designing skills I present to you an honest to goodness, genuine business card with a little bit of tampering done for the purpose of saving this guy from complete embarassment and slapping me with a fat lawsuit of some kind. I swear on the hair upon your child's head that this is not a joke but I might want to frame the original anyway for posterity because it's just that good. Either that or go back and swipe a handful of them. I'm a humanitarian, I know. I'm practically a saint.
October 10, 2006
And You Thought I Was A Lady...
We watched poor-quality downloaded episodes of Jackass months before everyone else outside of the States knew about it. I would offer to bring these videos to parties and be subsequently turned down when the host heard of such "stunts" as the Poo Cocktail and Vomit Omelette. 6 months later, these people were watching and crowing over the exact same pranks and stunts they were too ma-toor for earlier...
Seriously, you need to see this movie. It's all about the kind of pee pee and poo poo humour that defines and rocks my world. Turn away from the adult world of responsibility and sensibility for a few hours and come into my universe. You'll laugh, you'll cringe and maybe even gag a few times but it'll be worth it because you'll have seen how depraved and base people can be, and it's all for fun.
October 06, 2006
What Do You Mean "Where's the Fire?"?!?
I have to say now that we've had it I'm sorely disappointed. It's like, that time, that guy, who you were totally crushing on offered to show you the backseat of his totally blinged out car with the killer CD stereo system, leather seats and rad race car engine when the reality was a horribly repainted Cavalier, complimented by the bubbled up Crappy T self-tinting job, coffee can muffler in the back held up with what was once a coat hanger, a Discman hooked up to his cassette player and a faux leather throw his mom tossed over the backseat to protect passenger asses from the crazy, killer springs popping through. Mercifully, the tour was short and you ran away. Fast. But not before macing the lust out of his baby blues, the lying skid.
Sorry, back to the present. My mind likes to tangent off occasionally. At precisely 1010am we were told "10 minutes". I got all excited like a puppy being told she's going out for a walk and ran to the washroom to pee. Came back and put on my sweatshirt because it's a little cool out, don't want to stand outside whimpering in my t-shirt. Tick tick tick tick... Getting antsy. My half-hour break starts at 1100, we went and came back from doing lines I mean, whatev.. and still nothing. I knew it had to happen soon so again, I ran to the washroom to do my thing and bore down because I didn't want to be the schmuck left behind on the can should the building burn down.
Finally it happened and I just about pushed and kicked everyone down the stairs so that I could get a prime standing spot on the sidewalk and greet the firefighters. I looove fire alarms, firefighters are h-a-w-t! It should be a professional career to ogle and squeal at them, at least for me anyway. Somebody pay me to be a firefighting cheerleader, damn it!
We're standing on the sidewalk and I hear no sirens. I don't like that. The alarm got turned off and we went back in. No firefighters. I very don't like that. Sure it was a drill, and it makes total sense that they won't be coming to our imaginary rescue because somebody out there might legitimately have an emergency which would require their presence and assistance but what the hell! That fire drill sucked. Ass. Goat ass. I hate you all.
October 03, 2006
How To Go
Of course I had to pee when I got there. I pee a lot. I drink a lot of water which produces a lot of pee, it’s a vicious cycle. I tried to drink less but then I get thirsty. What the frig. Good thing I was early (I’m an early person, I don’t get along well with late people. If I invite you over for dinner and say be here by 7:00pm that’s when the door locks, not when you get into your car from home. I’m a bitch, get used to it) because it gave me time to go to the washroom.
I’m not a fan of public washrooms for all the obvious reasons but just looking at doorknobs and any surfaces projects into my mind nasty imagery of people picking their noses, scratching themselves and digging lunch out of their teeth right before touching whatever it is I need to touch. Hi, paranoia? It’s me, Stinky T, I do believe we’ve met.
I needed a key to access the washroom and started laughing as soon as I walked in. People on the floor must’ve gotten spooked when they heard my harsh cackle echoing down the hall but not see me. I wish I had a camera, as creepy as that sounds going into a public restroom, but it was just priceless.
Tacked on various walls were photocopied signs on coloured paper saying something like:
Ladies! If you must must must must pee on the seats…
Please clean up after yourselves!!
It had other stuff too, like you wouldn’t do it at home, why do it here but that was the gist of the message that mattered.
Who the hell pees on the seat on purpose?? I know that we all have aiming issues sometimes which results in wet seats or drippy rims, especially after drinking or in the middle of the night and the lights stay off.. or both, but peeing right on the seat? That’s issues, man. Someone must have a thing for splashing themselves all over or something equally gross because that’s what happens when pee hits the seat. And to have to be told not to do it? That kills me. Grown women all over the city have to be scolded into not making a mess. Bwah!
Sorry, the moment's over. I didn’t pee on the seat and therefore didn’t have to clean anything up. The key got brought back to the office with my pinky stuck through the key ring to minimalize germ transfer and the day ended just like any other with dry toilet seats rejoicing in the city.
October 01, 2006
Finale
Asked them how long I was out for and they said, "Ummm... about 3 hours." I didn't believe them until I looked at the clock and saw what time it was. Holy black out period, batman! I'm fairly sure that I would still blow over because I can still feel the liquor but at least I'm mobile again. Therein ends the experiment which I now know was horribly spelt in the first post making it practically indecipherable. Sorry about that. Now we know how stupid we are after drinking. Let's not do this again. Don't drink and write. Goodnight y'all, I've got company to entertain downstairs. And it won't be in the passed out fashion this time.
Sobering UP
Why am I such a cheap drunk? I eman, horribly cheapl. If you meat me in a bar and bougth me one drink I'd be yours for ht e night... as long as you hold me hari back while I soil your shoes in the back alley or wherever we end up o n nour rjoanmantic sojourn. THis is making no sense. My head hrts and my pulse is racing I ened to lie down even more but at least I don't have the spins. Those are no good mYU butt is itchy and I just tooted but I forgot that I have guests over. I hope they didn't hear coz it's was kind of loud but I think I'ts OK. I thini ti hahppend after they went hdownstairs czo I woudl'tve heard laughing.
I realy o'dt feel so good. I better go ijust in case.
Exsoeirnemnt
IT's actulaly not bad, I'm still coherent although m y chair's not under my butt which forces tme to knell on the groudn and my chin is on the desk. YWe're playhhign musci but Incan't listen because my heart's going fast than the beat and it's all out of soync. Boom boom boom boom boom boom!
Ispetted in wet earlier and my sic's wet but I dunon't kjknow why or waht i stephed in. But it's OK s=co it's dry now. It's a friends' birthday so we didn birthdya shots. Whisey yrye's not great but I can handle it. I'mf eeeling reallyh happy right now. My head hurts. I fnd that I get headaches when I drink, don[t know why. I shoudl be going downstairs now to rejoing iht eoiogroup or else they'll thihnk I"m thirwong thrwoing thorwing throwng throwiong throwign throwing up but I"m not. Do'nt need to make that msitake like that last week. Grosss. I walk skind of wobbly but can still handle stairs. Why's imy heart going so fast when I drink? TI's crazy. OK, maybe I'll come back later, sounds like they're havign lots or fun downt sthere. GOod night!