Whew, I just had another night-time poop. It really throws me off when that happens, because I am a first thing in the morning type of guy. However, I think I know the reason. You see, I always buy the instant oatmeal with extra fibre (or fiber for you Yanks). Soluable fiber, the kind in oatmeal, lowers cholesterol, and you all know I am all over that shit. Well, the extra fiber kind has like 5 or 6 grams per packet. But, when we were in the States this summer, I quickly realized we were being screwed over here in Canada on the fiber front. In the States, they had added fiber in EVERYTHING, from fiber pop tarts to Splenda with Fiber, which I brought back with me. I was really pissed off that Fiber One bars in the states has almost double the fibre as here in Canada. And then I walked down the oatmeal aisle, and saw the same oatmeal with not 5 or 6 grams of fiber, but 10 fucking grams. So, I bought a fucking shoebox full of the shit, started eating it this week. Well, hump me Dorothy, I have been pooping weirdly ever since. It's not nice solid long poops, but more like the little pieces poop shot out forcefully. Yes, I know, too much info, but y'all eat this shit up. So I am farting and pooping like crazy, all due to the fiber. Why can't Canada get into the fiber action? Sigh.
What else... it's been a crazy busy week. Yesterday I was just treading water to keep up with everything. SO then last night I decide to make Hamburger Helper for supper because it's easy. WELL. Leave it to me to screw that up. I run to the store after work and grab two lbs. of meat and two boxes of HH. Two boxes is a little too much for us, but one box doesn't cut it, nor does the "family size" box, which is sort of between one box and two. So I think I'll do 2 boxes. Fine. Go home, piss around doing shit, and then commence cooking. Well, I brown my meat and get ready to throw the shit in, and lo and behold, I have TWO DIFFERENT KINDS of HH in my grocery bag. I bought one cheeseburger macaroni and one cheesy shells. Yes, I know, it's all the same shit, but I knew someone would bitch and whine that the noodles were differerent and yada yada, so then I look in the pantry and saw I had a family sized box of cheeseburger macaroni so I go to make it, but since my wife and one daughter do not really eat meat, I knew it would be too meaty with the two lbs. of meat, so then I decided to cook the family sized box and the single box of cheeseburger macaroni, and suddenly I felt like Hailey fucking Wickenhauser or whatever the hell her name is - the lady hockey player who does the HH commercials. Indeed, I was ready for Josee Chiunard - what the fuck is her last name? - to be sitting there asking me how much I loved HH. Anyway, that whole thing set me off on a rage.
The odd thing? We didn't have a whole bunch leftover. Go figure. And if anyone needs a box of cheesy shells HH, I can hook you up.
What else.... last week I was sicker than fucking typhoid Mary. I had the flu, so I kept thinking "this is it, it's the swine" but no cough. I actually was hoping it was it, because motherfucker, I was so knocked on my arse it isn't even funny. I was fucking SICK. I even went to the doctor, but since I had no cough, it wasn't the swine. But I've only had actual influenza about 3 times in my life, and bitch, after last week, I don't want it again.
What the hell else..... did anyone see Madonna on Letterman last night? It's always so painful when she's on, because she's so awkward. It's weird, because for such a big star, she's just so painfully out of place. She looked great. No surgery. Rock on bitch - I love your new song, if you are googling yourself.
OK, I really hope Tori Spelling is googling herself right now because I want to say that your husband is just a sick fuck. He really is. He is only with you because you have money. Mary Jo, I hope Brad gets the wandering cock again and leaves Angelina for you, and then you guys can hire someone to rub Dean out. Yes, that's mean, but it may be the paralyzer talking. I just noticed (when I was looking in the pantry in the garage) that I had vodka and Kahlua in the pantry, so I made a paralyzer or a Black Russian, or whatever the hell, and it's hitting the spot. I lift my tupperware cup in honour of "Vanilla", who loves the Kahlua. I have this feeling me and "Vanilla" would get along like gangbusters, and Vanilla's daughter would hate me.
So I ran out on impulse tonight and went to Coles and bought the Kathy Griffin book. I was reading it on the toilet during the nighttime poop, and I don't know if I'll like it without hearing her actually speaking it.
OH! I HAVE A NEW OBSESSION - Dane Cook - caught an HBO special the other night, and bitch, he's frigging funnier than stink. He's coming to the city in Nov. Tickets are 1o0 bucks each, but we sorta wanna go.
Oh Michael Buble - go fuck yourself. Seriously, you ain't no Harry Connick, so don't even try. It was funny, because at work, I was walking by some people talking and someone was saying something about The Handmaid's Tale and I blurted out "I f-ing hate Margaret Atwood - sorry if that's unCanadian" and then this woman replies, "I hate Shania, so whatever" and this other woman yells out "I f-ing hate Michael Buble, so what kind of Cannucks are we?" I think you had to be there - it was funny.
Sorry, some Entertainment Tonight show is on, which is why I am throwing out Buble and all this shit, and Tori and Dean.
I didn't watch Survivor yet. We didn't have time, and my wife is sleeping right now. I am just not into it this year. I really could give it up completely. It does nothing for me. I dreaded the day I wouldn't care anymore, but I just don't.
I went out for a beer tonight with work people and I really wanted to puff a ciggie. Fuck, when will it ever repulse me?
It rained all day today - it's weird, because last week I was still wearing shorts and we went to the lake for a swim, and now it's like 6 degrees and cool - but anyway, I have to admit something. I fucking LOVE these cool, rainy days. It could rain for 30 days and I would be happy. Of course, I pretended all day to hate it: "Oh, damn this infernal rain!" is something I probably said in front of people, but inside, I was screaming "piss down, sexy rain clouds!" I just am always comforted by clouds and rain. It's a BC leftover nostalgia thing.
Tomorrow night we are supposed to go to a house concert, but I really don't want to go. I have no idea how we'll get out of it.
So I downloaded a whole shitload of music the other night. No albums, just a hodgepodge of random songs. I got the new Madonna song, Celebration, which I fucking love, and the new Pearl Jam song "the fixer" I think it's called, which I fucking love - go get it. What else.... an old Animotion song "I Engineer", an old Kansas "Fire With Fire", a whole bunch of Laura Branigan, like "Solitaire" and "The Lucky One", some old Jefferson Starship.... I can't even remember what I all got. Oh, "All We Are" by Kim Mitchell.... oh man, it was great. Thank the Lord for Limewire for the older stuff. I also got the kids some stuff for their IPOD, like "Party in the USA" by Miley. I have to admit that I love Miley as much as the kids. I like the show, I loved the movie, and I like the music. I even like Billy Ray now. So I put that song on my IPod too. I got them some Beyonce and a whole shitload of Kelly Clarkson and "Battlefield" by Jordan Sparks. I frigging love that song too - love it.
Did I blog my Pink moment the other day? I guess I forgot to. I was listening to Funhouse, the song, and I was finally feeling healthy - mentally healthy. I just kept thinking of how I ate and drank my feelings last year after my Mom died, and I was having this revelation of "this used to be a funhouse/ but now it's full of evil clowns/I'm gonna burn it down" and it was like seeing some light in the tunnel. So if I ever mocked Pink for anything, I take it back. It was a prompt for me to get my life in control again.
My neighbor dropped off a huge bag of carrots for us, and bitch, those things are obscene. They are all sort of freak carrots and have two stems and one top, and of course, me being me, I'm all "oh, they look like those double-ended dildos." Yes, I share too much.
Anyway, I have nothing to say so I am going to go to bed and read some Kathy. Thanks for reading, peeps - welcome back KB!
Peace the fuck out, people!