Big Things…I Bring Cups!!

 coffe girls

I’ve noticed recently that if I ever get the least bit annoyed with someone, I instantly refer to that person as an asshole.   Incidentally, there are A LOT of assholes around.   Due to the current economic climate in this province, we are constantly being inundated with emails about lobbying the government.  After each email, I refer to the writer as an asshole and delete it.  I’ve deleted so many emails and labeled each author according to his asshole seniority number.  So far, the seniority ends at number twenty five.  Asshole number twenty five sounds like he needs therapy and strong intervention techniques to quell his over-riding anger management issues.  Asshole twelve is immature and requires some English translation lessons.  Of course, this whole thing could be attributed to my over-active sensitivity issues due to the lack of grains in my diet and my heightened need for sugar.  Just sayin’….

I was on Twitter when I noticed that the winner of the Pulitzer Prize in Literature was a book about North Korea and carries the reader “into the most intimate spaces of the human heart” Sounds totally depressing to me. If I ever win a Pulitzer for my awesome book, I won’t be carrying readers to any totalitarian countries that are ready to aim missiles at your head just so the reader could experience it or visit intimate spaces in people’s hearts.  That’s too weird, even for me.  My book would probably cover the wild and wacky world of taxidermy…or the controversial world of flatulence smell reduction underwear inventors…true story.

I’ve realized that I’m totally addicted to caffeine and sugar.  Since limiting my carbohydrate intake to a few spare pieces of fruit and accidental bread crumbs that happen to land on the floor that I invariably fight the dog for, I have noticed my dependency on coffee has risen substantially.  I’ve also become distinctly aware that if I don’t drink said coffee in a timely manner, I become a snarling bitch ready to stab you in the face should you decide to get in my way.  Case in point.  This morning’s conversation with Hubby:

Me:  Can you get in the shower soon please?  I have to get ready too.

Him:  Relax it’s only 6:20!

Me: *grumble, fuck off, grumble, bitch*

Ten minutes later:

Me:  Can you puhlease get in the shower?  Ugh, I KNEW I should have got in there before you!  God, I was going to, blah, blah blah, blah

Him: For Pete’s sake (Author’s note:  That would be me: I don’t know who Pete is, but for his sake, I should have shut up already)

Me:  I HAVE TO GET TO WORK

Him:  It’s 6:30! You don’t need to be at work until 8:00!!

Me: *irritated silence*

Ten minutes later

Him:  I’m getting in the shower now

Me:  It’s about time!  I’ve been waiting…I so should have gone first.  I don’t know why I was….blah, blah, blah…*stocks off to the kitchen whilst the dog is biting my pant leg which leads to dragging said snarling dog along the kitchen floor while I attempt to pour more coffee and continually complain about Hubby’s slowness and lack of consideration for others who have to get to work, dammit*

Fifteen minutes later

Him:  Didn’t you hear me?  I yelled I was out of the shower so you could get in since you’re in such a hurry this morning

Me:  NO, I DIDN’T HEAR YOU SINCE I WAS BUSY MAKING YOUR LUNCH AND HELPING TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE AND TRYING TO GET THE FUCKING DOG DETACHED FROM MY PANT-LEG!!

Him:  Okay, you don’t have to get all snippy about it.

Me: Was I snippy?  Hmpft.  You would be too if you had to wait for you to get out of the shower.

Him:  *rolls eyes and leaves*

Good idea….

Not The Turkey-Carving Stabbing Story You Were Expecting

I have come to the realization that my friends accept my blogging as a means for me to express my inner self.  They’ve also come to expect a wiseass sarcastic bitch who likes to rant on about the terminally painful experience of filling up the gas tank every week or cleaning out the bathroom drawer.  (Incidentally, I found ten boxes of dental floss in there.  Ten!  Who the fuck has ten boxes of dental floss?  We should use that to string up the dog when she pees on the floor…No, I’m not really considering that, put the phone down.  PETA doesn’t give a shit about me and my dog anyway…they’re more worried about the seal hunt….oh, yeah…don’t look over there.  Move along peeps…nothing to see there…did I ever tell you the story about how I stabbed myself in the arm while carving a turkey?  True story.)  The sealers are now forming a posse to down my blog.  What…my distraction story about the turkey-carving incident wasn’t sufficient?  Crap.

dental floss

Anywho, my friends think my idle rambling is probably good for my mental health…and their eardrums.  I know for a fact that I was a bit inebriated on Friday night and I started droning on about shit I can’t even remember.  Shit.  Dammit…what was it?  It doesn’t matter…what does matter is that they are not bored to tears listening to me ramble on about how my brand new kitchen table has little itty bitty stab marks all over it from D1 doing her ‘building-a-leg-bone-out-of-Styrofoam-project’.  Yep.  Stab marks.  Hubby is still having a coronary…

They (ma peeps) are so supportive…and non-judgmental.  It’s really quite unusual, I think.  They just think my blog is like that scar from the turkey- carving incident.  A part of me that’s not going away so they might as well read my shit and move on, or ignore my shit and move on.   Either way, it’s all good.  And I can usually tell who’s read my blog posts.If I refer to the cart I took to the grocery store as my ‘special needs’ one, and I get a snigger from one of the peeps, I know that she’s read a post I did about shopping.  Same as if I refer to something else I wrote in a previous post that I can’t remember right now because it’s Monday and I’m lucky if I remember my fucking name, and I get a similar reaction and not a look that says “OMG she’s fucking insane and gone and drank the funny kool-aid again’, then I know that she has read what I wrote.  So I can tell.

God, that so sounded like a threat.  I meant it in a totally accepting and non-threatening kind of way.  Just like when I told a co-worker to ‘man-up’.  Totally non-threatening and acquiescent.  See?  Not only are you reading an idle rambling of somebody who needs to find inner peace through bead work, your vocabulary is improving.  I should be listed under the ‘educational’ blogs.  You’re learning shit, yo.

So, in closing,  my peeps are supportive and awesome, sealers are hunting seals, I stabbed myself while carving a turkey and have the scar to prove it and we are in the possession of way too much dental floss.

The End

This And The Other Word

Friday squirrel

It’s finally Friday and I’m thankful that I have a gathering to look forward to.  I’ve been swilling around in doggie duties, laundry and work this week and I feel like I should sit back and drink a few with my buds.  My peeps.  Let’s eat, drink and be merry…not that we never are.  There’s plenty of frivolity in the ‘hood.  Maybe even a rendition of the Star Spangled Banner will be sung…okay, not exactly sung so much as strangled out from the vocal chords of a drunk woman strung out on the extreme amounts of alcohol and carbohydrate deprivation.  In my ever attempts at losing a few extra pounds of woman-mass, I have decided to restrict my carb intake while simultaneously upping my veggie/fruit combo.  Of course I refuse to totally do without wine, chocolate and coffee so they remain a steadfast part of my diet.  I should start my own regime and call it “The Winos Guide To Losing A Few Pounds While Still Enjoying Her Midlife Crisis In A Drunken Stuper”   The business plan practically writes itself.

Recent events have me yelling ‘Hell’s yah!’ in my jammies on my front lawn.   I was so going to provide links to the main story, but my lawyer, Vinnie Buttowski, has advised me that that  probably isn’t in my best interest. (as an aside, I hate the word ‘that’ and to use it double in a sentence has me near convulsions of grammatical anxiety so extreme I may just wet myself in spite) (as a double aside, this paragraph originally took up half the post, but again, I was advised to ‘shut the fuck up’ so, yeah.  This is it, yo)   So, instead I’ll distract you with this:

If you haven’t noticed and most of you haven’t as you can’t actually see me, my ‘no carb’ thing that I have been slaving at for two weeks has resulted in a little loss of sponge around my middle.  It’s going well and I am enjoying the freedom that only no- carb can do for you…eating multitudes of veggies and almonds and having peeps taunt me incessantly with croissants and cookies.  They’re fucking awesome.  They love me so much they feel the need to parade treats in front of me like a feral cat walking nonchalantly in front of an old person with a cane. Lovely, really…come a little closer I’ll show you the new cane I bought.  It’s very shiny and heavy….

The Spring Thaw

So the weekend happened and the exhausting task of searching for dead bodies in the melting snow has me a little freaked.  What?  You think I’m kidding?  Pfft….I wish.  Seriously, the snow has melted in exponential amounts and everyone is afraid to go into their backyards right now in fear of what they’ll find.  I know some runners who refuse to run the path around the ‘hood in case something pops up that they would rather not witness.  I should back-story this a bit.  See, in January or February of this year a young man was last seen exiting a cab in our neighbourhood never to be seen again.  Many people believe he headed for the wooded area that a new subdivision is currently under construction and is also home to a walking path.  They think in his distraught state, he fell or fell asleep out in someone’s backyard or lawn somewhere.  That weekend he went missing there was a violent winter storm and the thoughts are that he succumbed to the weather.  Inhabitants are put on the lookout by the local police to scour their backyards before the full-on melt is on.  Has me a little jittery.  I hope he is found so he can be put to rest and his family has some closure.  I hope he is found to be living downtown after joining a band and dying his hair blue.  I can hope!

Spotted:  I so wish I had taken a picture of this when I saw it happen on Saturday afternoon.  My neighbor who lives across from me and beside Miss H has the reputation of being, not only a busy-body, but a lawn fanatic.  I guess she doesn’t give a shit about dead bodies, because she and her Hubby were out shoveling what’s left of the snow onto the road.  Yeah, I see you laughing.  I shit you not.  She’s pissed because as she gazes longingly at my house, its brown grass apparent and void of any snow or ice like everybody else on my side of the street, she looks down at her lawn and all she sees is a big pile of brownish frozen crap. Her snow bank remains piled on the edge of her front lawn, its brown ice and shit-colored edges egging her into a maniacal fury.  (insert wicked laugh here)  So out she goes after wrangling hubby out of his comfy armchair, with shovels in hands to set to right a definite wrong and swing those shovels as if it was the last thing they were put on earth to do.  Poor, Mr. Pat.  I would have paid good money to see him heave a big shovel full of snow at her in playful spitefulness.  Good money, I tell ‘ya!

Son played hockey on the weekend and ended up in emergency department with a possible concussion and sore ribs.  Have I ever told you how much I hate hockey?  Yeah.  Now I have reason to pile on the hate even more.  He is 80lbs soaking wet and the kid that power- drived him into the corner FROM BEHIND weighed as much as me…or more. (okay, he weighed a lot…)   Son bounced back up instead of staying down reveling in his pain and made it back to the bench.  He sat with his team despite the pain until the end of the period.  He followed his team into the dressing room for the intermission.  He came back out to start the third period with his team.  He sat on the bench and wanted to stay.  Then the nausea set in and Hubby whisked him to emerg.  Two hours later after seeing nice doctor and, by all accounts cutie x-ray techie, Son is fine.  He ended up missing the whole celebration on the ice, the medal presentation, the fun, the frivolity.  Kid that hit him received no penalty.  Nada. Nothin’.  They said if son had stayed down on the ice like we tell him NOT to do, the kid who committed the illegal hit would have been given a 5 minute penalty and tossed.   That’s not Son.   He has heart.

He was visited at the hospital by one of his friends and given his medal.  He is feeling fine now, just tender ribs but hockey has forever placed a sour taste in my mouth.

Hockey=yukky-poo-poo.

AND, for all of you who need a little reminder why I love to blog, read this and revel in the glory that is logic.

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Go On, B’y! Me?! You Really Like Me?!! Aww….

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I just received an award from Sightsnbytes that’s called the Epically Awesome Award of Epic Awesomeness (?) I think?  Is that what the sign says? Yeah.  Anywho, tanks to Sights who was very flattering and beyond kind.  I shall state the rules as they have been outlined to me.  They are as follows:

State 10 things about yourself

Link 10 bloggers who shall be deemed able to accept such award and let them know they have received it.  (I would do this, however, I’m not sure I know 10 bloggers and the ones I do know, may not be all gaga over getting yet another award) so in seeing that, I shall do the other things I’m supposed to…if I can remember what they be.  Yeah.

First…ten semi-interesting things that you peeps are dying to know about me:

1. I drink coffee with half French Vanilla

2.  My puppy freaks me out

3.  I hate losing at party games.  It pisses me off

4. I’m a lot like Raj from Big Bang Theory.  I only speak to people (sarcastically) when alcohol is in my system.

5. I married my first boyfriend…and we are still married. (22 yrs this August)

6. I decided that the number on my scale does not reflect my true personality and I no longer give a shit.  So there.

7.  I feel very blessed that I have great neighbours who are my family more than just my neighbours.

8.  I can’t imagine life without chocolate

9.  I yell at people when I’m driving

10.  I also sing loudly in the car when I’m alone…it doesn’t necessarily need to be moving. The car, I mean. My neighbours can attest to that, I’m sure.

So, now you have an in-depth peek at what my fam and co-worker has to deal with on a daily basis.  Be thankful you are where you are, people.  If you want a rundown on some awesome bloggers, take a gander to the right at the blogroll of awesomeness and check them all out.  They are all entertaining and enlightening.

Thanks again, Sights and blog-on fellow bloggers!  May the booze be with you!

Rogue-a-licious

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