Friday, August 31, 2007

The day, the princess... died...

Ok, I've had a long, stressful week. ANother one coming up. My busy time at work, and it's always hideous. First week of grade one, which is way more of an adjustment than kindergarten ever could be. Nobody told me that. We are all short-tempered and on edge.
So forgive me, People Magazine, and all the rest, for not giving two shits off of a rat's ass for caring if one of those Wilson brothers tried to off himself. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I don't CARE that another human tried to off himself. What I am trying to say is that I don't care to hear about it over and over. Frankly, I have my own shit to worry about, instead of wondering why he did it. Hell, I have to admit that I don't know if I'd pick him or his brother out in a crowd. One of them looks like Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High, but that's all I can say.
And so now we are going to have to watch his "brave walk to recovery from depression and addiction" over and over and cheer for him as he does a special interview with Barbara Walters. Honestly, I don't care. I really don't.
So I am really into that Kathy Griffin show on Thursday nights, but tell me - what in the hell is going on with her temples? She's got these bundles of veins all sort of congealed there. Like last night, it was the episode when her dad dies, but before that, she's all sick from eating too many sweets before doing that show for the lesbian group, and is lying on a sofa and we see these veins in her temple. It's almost like she's a robot and that's where you plug her in. I just don't know...... and has she had more work than Joan Rivers or is her face really that smooth otherwise?
Anyway, I never, ever, in a million years thought I would say this, but the bitch is funny. I hate her assistant though. She comes across as a cold bitch. I don't know why they all love her. The chubby girl is cool though, although all she does is giggle.
OH! We never debriefed about Big Brother lately! Let me just say this: Amber only got the religion after she started hanging with Jameka, so it was so funny to see her be all "I had a vision" and shit. And then she'd be all "I'm not mad at you God, but.....". But my favorite line was when she was praying with Jameka and said "God Bless you, God!" LOL, if she doesn't become the next supermodel, she'll be the next Ruth Graham!
I do admit I find Jameka sincere in her zeal, although I can't quite figure out her rationalizations sometimes.
Oh, and Eric? You and your lazy eye have to go. How stupid ARE you? Backdoor Danielle, and you would have been golden. But you are too stupid.
Hey, Devo, I too love Coldplay. Love them. I LOVED LOVED LOVED Radiohead's "The Bends" - oh man, so much.... and then OK Computer, which nobody else I know loved. Kid A was fucked up - sorta like Pink Floyd strange shit, but then again, I listened to it twice and that was it, so maybe I should have gave it another chance. You ever listened to U2's "The Unforgettable Fire"? The title track is my alltime favorite song. It's got that atmosphere vibe you'd love, trust me.
I am currently rereading this Billboard book of #1 Albums, where they give a page to everyone number one album from the dawn of time to 1995 or something and give a page to each album, chronologically, and do a write up about it and interview the artist or producers or whatever. Anyway, they all say "we almost left such-and-such song off the album!" and it's all such bullshit, because if Lionel Ritchie left off "All Night Long", "Running With the Night", and "Hello" off of Can't Slow Down, what in the HELL would be left? Or they talk about how important their art is and whatever. Sorry, but I don't see the cultural significance of Quiet Riot or REO Speedwagon.
My puppy is whining tonight, and I don't know why. TOnight is 2 years since my beloved Daisy got run over. I wonder if she's sensing her or something. God love you Daisy, I miss you all the time. You were neurotic, and pissed all over my basement even though you knew better, and weren't a great fan of children, but you were one of a kind and my first "baby" and I love ya and miss ya. And I get a lump in my throat whenever I hear "When September Ends" bu Green Day because that song was on the radio when we told Kelly that Daisy died, and she cried for the next year, every time she heard it. So rest in peace, Daisy Lynn....
And it is also the 10 year anniversary of Diana's death - which means it's 10 years since I've been "online", because we bought our first computer that week, and I met my many friends in the chat room "40 Plus" on MIRC that night. I was addicted to chatting for a good couple of years. I'll maybe tell that whole story tomorrow night. Let me just say that I logged on to 40 plus for the first time that night and shared my grief for our beloved dead princess with these other nutcases until 4 in the morning and stuck with them for a trillion years. Shit, I wish I still had email addys for some of those people to contact them for old times sake... LOL, that should be my next post - online chat rooms and people i have known. Leave it to me - I get a computer and spend my time in a room with people 30 years older than me. Everyone else my age is searching porn, and I am learning how to play midi files in my chat room of old people.... sigh.......
Anyway, 4 posts is enough for tonight, so I bid you peace. And I am sorry for all I said about bitchy Penny. I'm just tired. Well, no, I'm not...but it just sounds good to be contrite on this holy day.

another note for penny

P.S. - Penny, I see you didn't take the "Save $1.00" coupon off of my Fresh Brush Max toilet cleaning pads box - you owe me a dollar. I'd call you an old cunt, but I know that the C word offends Margo and Devo, so I won't. It doesn't offend Chunks, though, my rotten mouthed glimmer twin, so Chunks, that really what she is. But Margs and Devo, she's an old sow.
And if you don't know what in sam hill I am talking about, scroll back two posts.
And that IS the rest of the story.

I wanna be king of the castle

When I moved here to Bug Tussle, at the beginning of the tormented years of puberty, I lived down the road from this place - literally, it was across the road and 8 houses down. I always thought it would be the bees knees to live in it - not for that price though:
Anyway, if any rich people are reading this, you can buy it for me. I'll accept it, no questions asked.

open letter to bitchy Penny at Walmart

Open letter to Penny at my local Walmart: You, my dear, were just the supreme bitch extrordinaire today. Really, you outdid yourself. So, there we are, at about 5 o'clock on a Friday of the long weekend, and so yes, it's busy, and yes, it's 32 degrees outside, and yes, you want to go home. But you, dearest Pennina, wear the red blazer with the fancy nametag for a reason - you are supposed to be good, or a supervisor, or some such thing - anyway, you are supposed to be a step beyond the blue blazer. But honey, you sure as fuck weren't lemme tell you. Picture it, dear readers. My wife and I, and our middle child (straight from the Dr. with her forth throat infection in two months) are in Walmart with a pile of tooth brushes, toilet cleaner, Robert Munsch books, and whatever the hell else that fills up a cart to over 100 dollars of stuff, and we choose your till. Big mistake. You usually aren't the happiest crayon in the box, but you at least say something. Not today. Not a hello or a kiss my ass. No eye contact. No annoying "did you find everything" bullshit. Nope, just a snarly "$107.32" and the receipt literally thrown at us.
I know it may be a bad day. I have them too. But honey, that was way too rude. So fuck you, you old bitch. I might just take my business to Zellers next time - they might all be drug addicts who work there, and not have many teeth, but they will at least make eye contact.
And that is the rest of the story.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Storms, Nauseating Fag Ends, and Chokecherries - Coming to a Porno Circus Near You!

Sweet fuck all to say. I just accidently popped on here and now I feel trapped that I actually logged in. I mean, it's almost 12:30, so it's too late for me to really get into talking about anything. I was just on good old crackbook, and accidently clicked off onto here and here I sit, broken-hearted..... Ate Taco Time, and really farted.
It's true, I ate TT tonight and it always turns my arse into some scary-ass burning sulfer factory of rank proportions. In other words, I don't think I'll be getting any tonight. My chances in the morning probably are nil too, unless I pass this burrito before then.
So today we both took the day off since Kelly starts school on Tuesday, grade one, and will now be a full-time student, so of course I have to make a bigger deal about this than probably needs to be, since I mourn it so, but anyway, we took the day off, and after taking 110 dollars of bottles, cans, and juice containers into the recycling place (remember going there hung over that one morning Margo, so we could get money to go buy some more booze, and almost puking as the fag ends (cig butts to all you non-British people) came pouring out of that one bottle?), and then we picked up subs and went for picnic at the park out of town. There, we went on the swinging bridge, hiked up huge hills in the forest, and picked gallons of chokecherries. So, tomorrow will include trying to make chokecherry syrup, along with canning beans and carrots, making bread and butter pickles, and cleaning the 10 (or so) ice cream pails of wild blueberries we picked the other day. Yup, just call us Tammy Wynette and Euple, or Loretta and Doo, or whatever the hell you want to call us - we are now offically old people. Or earthy people. I do subscribe to Harrowsmith and all...
Brutus, the new puppy, is doing great. However, he is very big. Very fat. Compared to the others, he's twice the size. So, he comes by it naturally. In the woods today, we encountered a wild cat, which I initially wanted to take home, until I became convinced he was going to attack us. I feel like the Angelina Jolie of the animal kingdom - I will be soon adopting animals from Africa, and wearing blood of ex-lovers around my neck, and stealing the famous wives of famous Canadians. However, since we have no famous Canadians, really, that leaves me to run off with Barbara Amiel, Mila Mulroney, or Mary Jo Eustace, but since her hubby left HER for Tori Spelling, well, that just makes her pathetic in a way.
So anyway, for the past 10 days or so, it's been colder than a witch's titty here. I mean, going down to 5 degrees at night, leaves already starting to change color, and all that jazz. But I still refuse to wear pants. Well, I mean, I wear SOMETHING over my knackers, because I ain't no streaker, but you know what I mean - shorts and Dawgs, every day, no matter how nipply it is outside.
So tonight when I went into Shoppers to buy a bottle of pop to accompany the TT, I couldn't resist getting the Method window cleaner. It's mint scented. I don't know if I ever shared here my love for Method products, but honey, that shit is da bomb, plain and simple. I can't wait to try it out. Because, as the last two sentences attest, I have no life.
And, since Margo gave me the gears when she was here because of my crazy anti-smoking stance on the blog, I need to share this - when we ate lunch in the park, we were at this one picnic area, and on the ground were a bunch of fag ends, and I had to forcibly stop myself from gagging whilst eating. So, I may crave smoking still, but littered butts make me hurl. I am an enigma, babies.....
Hey, let me throw this question out there - is anyone reading this a Methodist? And if so, what do Methodists believe, and what are your services like? (Too long for me to explain the whole background into this Methodism thing, but just curious).
Hey, Devo, let me ask you a question here - I see you are a Radiohead fan (right on, Mama). What was your impression of "Kid A"? I am curious.
Also, you are a Coldplay fan - I happened to love the last album but I know nobody else who did - what are your thoughts?
OH! I HAVEN'T DEBRIEFED (not literallly, you sick people) on the Carol Ann Harris book!!!!!!!
Well, whoop de dooo, on holidays I finally got my stubby sausaged-fingered hands (I really do have sausage fingers - it looks like a birth defect) on the book "Storms: My Life With Fleetwood Mac", written by Lindsey Buckingham's ex-girlfriend. She was with him from right before Rumours was released in 77 until 84 or so.
I savoured the book, and it was pretty good to get some juicy drug and sex filled tidbits about my heavenly family (because in heaven, it will be apparent that I was really the sixth member of the band). Anyway, I tried to leave my Stevie bias aside, but took a little of what she said with a grain of salt because I don't like to hear negative about my Stevie. However, it was more annoying how she would then try to make up for whatever ignorant thing she said with "but how could i compete with the sex godess of 70's rock who is super talented" over and over. Anyway, it was a good read, and documented Lindsey's abusive nature, but the ending was all rushed and I still don't quite get the break-up. She documents the relationship in 300 pages, but the breakup happens over the course of like a page or so. And so, that bugs me, and so does the way she keeps saying she is so squeaky clean and would never smoke weed or drink, but would do coke, but of course, everyone else is coked up more than her. But then, she and Lindsey break up when he's working on "GO Insane" and then he leaves a copy on her doorstep and it's full of songs that she thinks are about her and her drug use and then I think "maybe you WERE a cokehead" - I really believe Lindsey did slap the shit out of his women, because I know he did it to Stevie, but maybe she wasn't so innocent, because to read it, she's just so damn rational and straight, it's like Melissa Gilbert teaching poor blind Mary to insert a tampon without eyesight without breaking her hymen on a very special episode of Little House on the Prairie.
But I ignore it all - until the last 2 pages or so when she details the "huge career" she has in costume design for videos, which probably is the truth, but she says something about "coming full circle and working with Fleetwood Mac on the video for "Save Me" - Lindsey filmed his parts on a separate day when I wasn't there, which he thought best" and I suddenly think "Wait a minute, cokehead, 'Save Me' was from Behind the Mask, an actually pretty solid album from 1990 - WHEN LINDSEY WASN'T IN THE FUCKING BAND." That's right, he wasn't even in the band, do DUH, he wasn't in the fucking video. So right there, old Carol is just making up shit. Retarded..... and totally turned all the nuggets I read up to that point, and believe me, I stretched that read out for 2 weeks because I wanted to savor it, into potential hogwash. So I need to reread with a critical eye now and then decide how I feel.
Anyway, it's now 1:00 and I bet dollars to donuts my dad will call before 9 for a date to the farmer's market, so I better run.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

The Retarded Leading the Senile... Story at 11:00

Ok, so let me tell you an amusing anecdote from this morning that proves that I should not be allowed out in public. My sweet Dad has this thing about me and him going to the Farmer's Market - I ran into him there once and whammo, it's our thing. So today, I tell him I will actually meet him down there, and since they changed locations this year, it's hard for him to remember where it is and all of that. But we coordinate to meet there at 9:00, and we both make it and find each other.
So, there we are, shopping away, and I am trying to keep him busy in conversation because he's all befuddled because he thinks he will forget the three things on his list, even though he bought them and put them in the car already. So then I look over and see this woman walking across the street to the Farmer's Market, and I immediately say to Dad "Hey, that's Anne Clandoo (first name is her real name, the last name is a variation of the real one to protect the innocent). Anne is someone I've known since I was 6 years old. She is the daughter of friends of my parents and her mom used to be my parents' babysitter back in the day. Anyway, I used to spend a few weeks each summer and some holidays visiting Anne's family in the city they lived in when I was a teenager because I was really close to her sister. Anyway, it's not important. But anyhow, Anne lives here now, and whatever. So Anne goes to some booth and is buying some vegetables, and I walk up behind her and yell "Get that cabbage out of your pocket!" and she turns and I'm smiling, and, well.... it's not Anne.
So she smiles and says something nervous and stupid, like only you can when confronted by a potential mental patient who has done something stupid like ask for the gum out of your mouth (or to tell you to take some cabbage out of your pocket) and says something like "I bought one from these guys last week and it sure was good!" and then I go all excitedly "YEAH!?!" and then allow her to make her escape whilst I turn to the vendors and think of something to say, so I frantically look for something to buy and finally say "How much is your dill?" in such an intense way, it was reminiscent of Barbara Walters asking Whitney Houston if she regrets being a crack whore. Of course, I am at the crackpot booth, where the woman says "it's free with each order" and then I say "so I have to buy something?" and she's all "yes" and so I need nothing, but say "ok.... I'll have some onions" (even though I bought a frigging bushel of Vidalia onions from an old Ukrainian last week) and then she says "big or small"? and I sit there pretending to be intensely thinking and settle, finally, after much thought, on the big ones, and then she asks how much dill I want. Well, in all honesty, I want none, because my garden is full of dill, and in fact today I cleaned and froze 14 bags of the stuff and there is STILL literally 1/2 of it in the garden. but anyway, I pretend I am thinking hard again and say "Oh.... about a handful" and then she asks MORE questions and wants to know if I want more weed or more head and I am thinking at this point, "lady, give me some fucking "real" weed and I'll *give* you head, you old sow, if I could just be swallowed up into the earth at this moment." But no, I bite my tongue and say I want more weed, because I am making a big heap of borsht, take my stupid onions that I'll never eat and the dill that will go straight to the freezer, and get the hell out of dodge.
So then I invite my dad out for coffee, and say we'll go to this particular Tim Horton's, and he can't place it, and while it should be a poignant moment, it isn't. He says "i've gotten forgetful, but I'm not always like this" and I am thinking "No sweat, I just mistook some cabbage eating woman for Anne, who I've spent many a summer with, so were are all a little touched in the head."
Today's episode was almost as bad as the lake on the long weekend, when I went out on the deck to fart my arse off and when the rumbling was done, I see the woman next door standing on her deck, and I mean, you couldn't have missed that one - it was like rockets...
And so are the days of our lives....

Friday, August 17, 2007

Update, Smupdate

Allrighty, I am sort of back amongst the living out there in radioland. I can honestly say that I haven't read anything anybody has written or have a clue what's been going on for the past month. Let me just recap my month in delightful point form, just so you can get the scoop. It won't be an interesting read, per se, and not funny or anything, but it will at least get that first awkward "I've been away for too long" post out of the way. So let me take you back to July something or other, the last day of work before my holidays:

-- So I seem to remember me telling you all about going to the Dentist with the stupid tooth thing, so I'll backspace all that I just wrote about the whole thing and move onto the next day. So the next day, my first day of holidays, we have to take one of the kids to the Doctor for something or other and we have no sitter for the others, so we all go trotting up there. Oh, yeah, and so I tell him that I needed something stronger for the dentist, and he tells me to take 2 ativan next time. Remember that. Anyway, Kristen was complaining of a tooth ache all week, and remember, she had strep throat a few weeks prior to this. Remember that too. So, when she had the strep, she had a really swollen gland, so I ask my doc if he can look at her gland and see what it's like, and then I say "maybe just look at her throat." So he does. She's got an infection still, worse than ever. So he checks all of them. Baby has it too. She had it last time that Kristen did, so this bug is a pain in the arse. But whatver, we start holidays.

-- So we go to the lake, I think. The heat wave hits. Hideous, oppressive heat. Like, humidex of 48 and such. And it lasts forever. The days bleed into one. We stay at the lake for I don't know how long and sweat it out. Then we go from the lake to Saskatoon with my brother and sister in-law and their kids, and spend the night and take the kids swimming and to the museum and to the zoo and whatever else. Still sweating like pigs in the heat at this point too.

-- Then we had to come home and prepare for the big 50th anniversary for my parents. Now, we planned this thing, but they only wanted my aunt and her two kids and their families to come - long story. But we still had a hall, a catered meal planned, etc. But then, we don't know if it wil go as planned. My aunt suddenly can't come, because she kept breaking her ribs and finally her doctor told her she needs to be in a home because her bones were too bad. Then my cousin's hubby's mother was dying of cancer and if she croaked they weren't coming. So I was like why are we doing this? And then my sister was all pissy because I said I was going to do a slideshow a while back, but she thought we should do some powerpoint with captions and so that was arguments going back and forth, and then I got the distinct impression that all of them were implying that I wasn't doing my share, so I got so pissy and we ended up volunteering to shop for supplies, to decorate, and then I bought a new scanner/printer, scanned unti 3 a.m. for like 3 nights in a row, and made these fucking dvd slideshows. THEN, we bought them one of those digital picture frames so I had to figure that out.
So the day of the thing, my aunt travels with my cousin to the party, which was cool, and the cousin's mother in law died the day before but they still came. But THEN, my mother throws her back out and can't even sit, and she refuses to see a doctor ever, and got all huffy, so then everyone is thinking in the back of their heads that she's dying because she is refusing to even get her back checked and she's so creepily thin, and whatever, but she ends up at the party, and it goes fine, but the old people leave like by 7:30 or something, and my dad was all confused and it was just a gong show. BUT THEN, it gets better. The caterer is my sister's best friend, an awesome chef with a heart of gold. But she's got problems. Big ones. Problems with the drink. With gambling. So she's there with her wife (the "I am not convinced she IS a lesbian" lesbian wife, the one from NZ who is 400 lbs and is sort of crazy). And she's drunk, and she drinks my gin. But whatever.
But the next day, she comes and does breakfast for us. And I hear her tell her son (well, the step son) that she will buy him a game from Future Shop later. But then she goes back to her work to get containers for us to take stuff home in, right after we pay and tip her, and she doesn't come back. Leaves the kid with us. So she took the money, ran to the casino, and gambled for 6 hours and stuck my sister with her kid and us with the clean up.

-- Next day, we go to the National Park, hang out on the beach, and go to the retro candy store up there where I find not only Pop Shop Pop, but licorice Altoids. It was pretty damn exciting.

-- Then we spend days and days weeding the garden next door, and harvesting peas and such and picking berries and being all Quaker-ish. The fair comes to town so we take the kids to that, but a storm moves in as soon as we get there, and it rains off and on the entire time. Until we leave, of course.

-- Then we head to the lake for the long weekend. Then the heat wave finally breaks and rain sets in on Monday, so we decide to be spontanious and pack up the kids, go to Saskatoon, get a room at the Sheraton which has the best kid pools and stuff. We figure we'll catch the parade which goes right by, and then hit the S'toon Fair.
Heatwave comes back. It's like 33 degrees. Kristen is beyond crabby. Complains of a stomach ache forever. Looks green on the rides. So we head home that night and stop at Subway on the way out. I see a walk-in clinic next door so I say "let's just take her in the for the hell of it". So, I do, and what do you know, she's got a throat infection! A bad one. So, he gives me medicine that is gauranteed to kill the bug finally, but it's not covered my either of our plans so we have to pay 80 bucks for it. But it works, she's done it today, and we got approved for an exemption so it WILL be covered.

-- Then it's back to work for each of us, the next day. Then the day after, I have the dentist appointment. I take my two pills. Feel fine in there. Feel a little giddy. No panic. Until the drill.... when nausea sets in. But I make it. I have a temporary filling in now and it hurts but I go back in about 3 weeks or so. Pray for me.

-- Then the next day, last Friday, I feel sick. So tired I can't wake up, so I miss a day of work.
Then on Saturday, I am dizzy, but can eat normally again. On Sunday night, baby is up with a horrible fever. So we take her in Monday, and she's got the throat thing. So now everyone is on the mend.

-- And that boring story is the month in a nutshell.

-- Oh, wait, Mr. Kotter, I forgot something. Margo and Rochelle came to town so I got to meet her finally. She's a keeper. Fabulous. And of course, you knew Margo was in town because we had a frost warning. She brings the bad weather each time. I'm going to call her Katrina.

-- Oh, and we got a puppy. Shut up all you naysayers. He's 6 1/2 weeks old, black poodle, one of my inlaw's dog's pups. He's awesome. No name yet.

-- And that is all. Now that you are filled in, I can get back in the swing of things.... well, in a couple of days. I need to catch up on everyone else first!

-- Oh, and I've watched that Kathy Griffin show twice now and she's the funniest thing in the world, I kid you not. Have last night's BB taped so don't say a word.....