Monday, May 31, 2010
Any guesses? Is it time for a round of Celebrity Death Pool?
I'm not counting Art Linkletter because the guy was 97. You gotta go sometime.
The technician tried to reboot. Nothing happened. So she is standing there pushing buttons and getting angry and frustrated, and I am going "la dee dah do do do" with the trouble-making boobs exposed.
She sent me off for other x-rays (bone density, etc.) and when I came back it still wasn't working. Half an hour later, after she talked to the technician on the phone about "la maudite machine" it started up again and got done. So something that should've taken 10 minutes took an hour. On a Monday morning. Why is it always me? At least my chest doesn't hurt.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
He fixed my computer, so I finally have wireless, and my 4-year-old PC now runs faster and smoother than ever. He spent 20 minutes on the line with Bell and never once raised his voice or seemed impatient. They couldn't fix the problem, so he tried and tried again, and fixed it. In all, he spent over 3 hours just installing my defective wireless.
I could do worse.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
This was not my card, but it was the biggest hit.
Two women on the front. One is saying "Every time I sneeze I have an orgasm." Second one is saying: "What are you doing for it?"
Open card. First woman says: "Sniffing pepper."
My friends laughed and laughed.
BLESS YOU, HURRICANE HATTIE. That joke never gets old.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
This weekend, I had coffee with the Tall Teacher and he is appalled, appalled, that I put sugar in my coffee. "That is so bad for you," he says.
What is with these people? I hardly know how to bring up the topic of CHIPS with either of them. I may have to live in the Chip Closet, munching in the privacy of my own home. And I won't feel guilty about it!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Although I intended to open them only next week, I could not resist the voice that called out to me from behind the cupboard door. Within an hour of having them in my house, I had ripped into the bag and was preparing myself for an explosion of deliciousness. How disappointed I was! Although they were original in taste…sadly, they lacked oomph. They tasted more like Taco Spice Mix than an actual Taco. I actually only ate one small bowl full and then put the bag away (granted I wasn’t particularly hungry, but when has that really ever stopped anyone from going on a binge) These highly anticipated treats left me feeling all flaccid and dangly. On the wang-o-meter these Mexican-inspired duds rate a muy pequeño y muy triste 4 inches.
On the positive side, however, Mommy…I mean, special border-crossing agent X…also brought back a giant bag of Late-Night Cheeseburger Doritos…so not to worry, my wang reading will soon be back where it should be.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Once again, I was astounded to hear the groomer describe her as "wonderful", "so playful", "a sweetheart" and "a delight". I keep repeating "that's great!" but I was thinking "WHO are you talking about???"
I guess it is better than having a normally pleasant cat misbehave in public, but it's so weird.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
We have a family plot in the cemetery in my hometown (not V’Field, but D’Ville). I bought this plot (real cheap!) and my parents are buried there. It is in the same cemetery where my mother’s parents and her sister are buried. I too will eventually be going in the same plot. What can I say? I like to plan ahead. I’m a planner!
Anyway, in family squabble news, there’s an uncle (husband of one my mother’s sisters) whom basically the whole family cannot stand. And this summer that branch of the family decided to also buy a plot in the same cemetery. Not just the same cemetery, but they are in OUR row. Just a few plots down from us. I am incensed. (Is that a joke? Not sure.)
I do believe I heard my father calling from beyond the grave. I recognized his voice. He said: I don’t want to spend eternity next to that goddamned sonofabitch Edgar. (He was not fond of my aunt’s husband.)
And it’s not only my aunt and uncle who are going in that plot, but their kids including their son, the cousin that my sister and I really cannot stand. He’s a c.c. of his father, and we loathe him to the same degree. When I told sis that the cousin was also going to be in OUR row, she howled: NOT HIM TOO!!!
So now I’d like to get a wheelbarrow and haul our headstone over to another row with a better class of neighbour. I mean, how dare they? Eternity next to that sonofabitch Edgar. Is there no peace to rest in? I’ll be glad I’m dead so I won't have to think about it anymore.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Anyway, I listened to Paranoid. And, yes, of course, I know it. It's okay, but doesn't thrill me.
Then I listened to Photograph, and I can honestly say, I don't know that one. Didn't much like it.
I still vote for Man on the Silver Mountain. It has a great hook. Blackmore Rules!
I cannot tell you how stupid and retarded this is. These people don't watch hockey at all. I know this because on some of the warmer April evenings when the Canadiens were playing, I saw my neighbours sitting in the backyard, doing whatever it is they do. But they've never watched a hockey game in their lives. Idiots.
Like I needed a new reason to hate them. (And, yes, of course, it has already crossed my mind to break the flag off the car. It was my first thought. My second thought was that he could then shove the flag pole up his ass...but now I'm getting carried away...)
Everyone who knows me knows I have no interest in heavy metal at all. But I do love one song. "Man on the Silver Mountain" by Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow. Dio sang it. I just checked on youtube and it's there (of course) so I will listen to it later at home.
There. There is my one heavy metal confession. I haven't heard that song in decades, but I still love it.
Well, maybe two. There's that Def Leppard song I really like too. But I can't remember what it's called.
The only other time I love metal is when it is related to Jack Black either in School of Rock or anything done by Tenacious D. Raise your goblet of rock!
UPDATE: In case this was going to keep anyone from sleeping tonight, I can report that the Def Leppard song I like is, of course, Pour Some Sugar on Me.
Nanuk, the Metal Head
Thursday, May 13, 2010
It actually soaks up the smell of prrrrrrt.
This is amazing. But...doesn't that take some of the fun out of marriage. Ladies, no longer complaining about your hubbie's in-bed odors? Won't you feel like something has been lost?
What I love in the interview I read with the inventor (in salon.com) is this assumption that only men pass stinky wind in bed. How naive. How cute.
And now, one of my colleagues (she is 51) came into my office waving a giant cardboard Habs finger. We're No. 1, we're No. 1.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
This was made clear to me this morning as I looked out the window of the bus and spotted not one, but two, older (i.e. grey haired but maybe only in their 40s or 50 max) men carrying briefcases, clearly on their way to the office, but wearing Canadiens jerseys. And these guys weren't together; they were standing on different corners. Please, guys. You aren't university students. End this foolishness.
One other thing I've learnt since this insanity began: a cop on a horse is really quite intimidating. Horses scare me a bit just because they are always so much bigger in person (in person? in horse?) than I expect. So a uniformed cop on a big horse is really effective in keeping me out of the way.
I'm hoping the city keeps these mounted police on duty during Grand Prix weekend. They can stomp all over obnoxious wealthy Euro trash and that will make me happy.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Sunday, May 09, 2010
My wish is that you get an ENTIRE day without your kids making you mental. Perhaps this is too much to wish for.
And, if you are a Montreal Mom, enjoy the snow! (Muffled screams into the nearest pillow.)
Friday, May 07, 2010
I may buy these.
See! Freebies do work. It's old-fashioned marketing, but it gets the job done.
If you have any idea what that means, please enlighten me.
I asked him to clarify and never heard from him again.
And they say women are difficult.
Not one to let that get me down, I immediately emailed the purring Persian and said: Whatcha doing this weekend?
Update. It appears Fancy Feast suffered some kind of homework-related meltdown last night, but seems to be recovering (and is back in communication) this morning. The fun is endless.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
He is in full panic mode, not about the date, but about homework. He was laid off last year and decided to go to university for a career switch. And university started this week. And now he has realized that university = lots of homework. Especially in the short 6-week spring term (as opposed to the normal 12-week fall or winter term). This ain’t high school, pal.
So he’s totally freaking out. He’s trying to figure out how to get the homework done and leave time for the date which he claims he’s been looking forward to all week. Anyone want to place a bet on whether I’ll spend the weekend twiddling my thumbs?
Well, there’s always decluttering to be done. No time to waste!
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
I read a bit about Lynn Redgrave's career; all the obits mention Georgie Girl ("Hey there! Georgie girl! there's another Georgie deep inside." So catchy that tune from my childhood. Never saw the movie, though).
But what I remember best is that she was the first "respectable" celeb I remember advertising diet stuff on television. I can't remember if it was Weight Watchers (I'm pretty sure it was) but as a kid I thought that as a respected actress she should not be on t.v. doing commercials. Even at the time, I thought she must need the money.
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Sunday, May 02, 2010
(Why am I ranting and striking my bosom in Shakespearen fashion this morning. I dunno. Maybe I'll be better after a coffee.)
In other news, Fancy Feast date success. We ended up meeting at the McD's in St. Henri, of all the godforsaken places. It was a mid-point for us. Had a good time. Surprisingly. The reward for low, low expectations, I guess. I think Fancy Feast may be JAW Fan's kind of man. He's on the chunky side, and nothing sets him off like people who behave badly on public transit. Need I say more.