Wednesday, June 30, 2010

And the Vice-President, Nicely-Nicely Johnson

Nigerian President Goodluck Jonathan has suspended the national soccer team from international competition for two years following their poor performance in the World Cup, his office said on Wednesday.

Sorry. I can't get past the name of the President. Wasn't he in Guys & Dolls?

Sit down, Mr. President, you're rockin' the boat.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010


I know I'm doing it wrong.

I am currently in the midst of my first attempt at using white strips. I put them in, they got all drooly and slipped off. This can't be right.

So I've reapplied them, but they probably aren't working. Who knows? Maybe they are not meant for exceptionally drooly people like me. Time will tell.

I can already feel this isn't worth it. Sigh.

Monday, June 28, 2010


Since I'm on my week off (and it's raining again) here is an appropriate news story from the Globe & Mail:

Some Canada Revenue Agency workers have been spending far too much time browsing the Internet and sending offensive e-mails – and not enough time collecting taxes. Internal reports show an average of 85 employees a year are disciplined for wasting their work days surfing the web, setting up sports pools, sending chain letters, promoting “illegal substances,” sharing offensive cartoons and running pyramid schemes.

“(One) employee browsed the Internet an average of three hours and 32 minutes per day,” says one investigation report from last July, or about half the shift.

3 hours and 32 minutes per day? Amateur!

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Of soccer and protesters

I have returned from the G20 fortress of the Holy City. I was safely in the suburbs and had nothing at all to do with the Red Zone and the Security Fence, and all the other nonsense. Watching the local news on Friday evening, it was obvious the newscasters were just aching for some rioting, arrests, anything to report on. It was so wrong. Shameful, really.

So they finally got their burnt police cars, and smashed windows and arrested rioters. I hope all the newscasts were satisfied.

Meanwhile, poor Frank Lampard. A real shame about that disallowed goal, but since it didn't much matter in the long run..well, Aufwiedersehen, England. heh heh.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Holiday Thursday

I've got my coffee. The cats are fed. And now I await the azzurri. This vacation time will either start out wonderfully or...not so wonderfully.

I can't believe England made it through. But so did Ghana! Yay!

Update: 89' Fuck.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The Earth Shook?

Apparently, we had a 5.5 earthquake about 40 minutes ago. I didn't notice a thing.

If I had been at home, I'm sure I would've been aware of it, but here at work, nuthin'.

I was in the cafeteria with a colleague, and I guess we were so engrossed in our endless bitchin' about our employer, we had no awareness of the shifting tectonic plates.

Last day at the office

Whee. Two public holidays = 1 and 1/2 weeks off for the price of 5 vacation days! I love a bargain.

I shall be off to the Holy City tomorrow to attend the G-20 Summit with other world leaders.

Well, not quite. But I will be sitting in the hot tub at my sister's, and eating BBQ hamburgers and watching soccer. I think I will have a better weekend than my G-20 colleagues.

I will get to watch Italy tomorrow before departing. What timing.

On the agenda for next week: the Round of 16 and the Quarter Finals. And decluttering! I swear I will get some serious decluttering done next week...unless the weather's too hot. There's always an unless.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010


Yesterday was the first day of summer. We all know what that of today the days start getting shorter.

It's tough being an eternal pessimist, but I try.

Speaking of sheer misery, let's see what France manages to do today. Les Bleus will be in la toilette, I expect.

Monday, June 21, 2010

And in other sports news

When the Persian dropped by, I was (sort of) watching the US Open. The Persian knows zero about golf, but for some reason he was immediately mesmerized by the t.v. (Translation: he’s a guy.) So we watched some golf.

Persian: I don’t know anything about golf, but I know it’s not good if it goes in the sand.
(we watch a bit more)
Persian: Or the really high grass.
(we watch a bit more)
Me: Why is it so hard to stop watching golf?
(we keep watching, ohhhing at missed putts)
(minutes pass)
Me: Are we going to do something else, or do you want to keep watching golf?
Persian: I don’t want to watch golf…..oh, look it’s Tiger Woods!
(we watch more golf)

Kiwi Flab

I don't care if they all believe they are part of a "warrior culture", obese middle-aged New Zealanders should not be taking off their shirts in public.

While it could be argued that the presence of those fish-white beer bellies gives the at-home viewer a greater appreciation of the taut, flat abs of the players, the truth is no such point of comparison is required.

My Perfect Moment of Zen

Looked out the window yesterday afternoon and saw Blackie the cat having a nice big dump in the middle of the CPN's back yard.

It's the little things that make life worth living.

Fame in the 21st Century

Chatting with the purring Persian on the weekend, he was telling me that during the Grand Prix festivities he went to a club, and a certain woman was there who is famous essentially for having large boobs and posing in a bikini. I won't write her full name because I don't need hits from the lustful young fellows who are her "fans" but let us call her Kim K.

Anyway, the Persian met said Kim K. and his reaction was priceless.

"I didn't recognize her. She didn't look anything like she did in her sex tape!"

Remember when people used to be famous for actually having accomplished something? I'm such an old bag. On the other hand, staying in nice hotels, going to night-clubs, "singing" a few songs and posing with young guys who've paid $100 to get in is not a bad way to make a living. Maybe she's on to something.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

I'm crying!

Gawd! Italy! Is it really so hard to put that ball in the net? Eff!

My heart, she is hoo hoo

Friday, June 18, 2010

On the town

In a highly uncharacteristic turn of events, I was on Crescent Street last night with the gang of old bags...I mean, with the girls.

My 52-year-old friend says: God, the men are so old. When we used to come here 25 years ago, the men were young.
Me: It's the same men. They're still coming here.
Friend: But they're old!!

In non-news, I hated the Crescent Street scene 25 years ago, and I still hate it. Who are these people? ick.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Strictly Canadian Celeb Death News

Maureen Forrester died. Tell me I'm not the only Canadian who only remembers her as being the "culture" part of every Confederation Day (or Canada Day) concert on CBC in my youth.

There would be an act like the Guess Who, or worse, and then it would be time for our only famous opera singer Maureen Forrester. And, as a kid, I'd think she wasn't really a REAL opera singer because her voice was low and not screechy high. Real opera singers screeched, in my book at age 8.

I was surprised that she died, only because I figured she'd been dead for years.


Monday, June 14, 2010

I am a masochist

Why else would I continue to support those friggin' Eye Tyes?
They drive me nuts.
Nuts! I tell ya.
So, before any England supporters ask me to, allow me to cheer for today's opponents:

On the man-fest front: One look at the Dutch team during the national anthems this morning, and I must confess I felt myself feeling partial to them. What a consistently fine-looking bunch.

Smooth moves

Yesterday I had to go to the pharmacy for one of those "female products". It is in the same aisle as the condoms.

I get to the aisle and make a turn. The store is almost empty. There's a man looking at the condom section. Seems like he's trying to make a selection. And...he's a guy from work.

I don't really want to buy my product in front of this guy. I know him, but barely. I don't even know his name. So, like in a sitcom, I look at other things. He has spotted me too, and we then did an amazing job of each turning and walking away like we hadn't seen each other, though we both knew we had. Our choreography was spot on. Creeping with the Stars.

Safely ensconced in another aisle, I was picking out something else non-embarrassing, when he came around the corner, and said "Hey, do you live around here?" We then had a brief chat about where we live.

Why is this embarrassing? At least it was for both of us, and not just me.

White Teeth

Here's a poll question for all you oldsters, i.e. people my age and thereabouts. Do you or have you ever used anything to whiten your teeth?

On the weekend I called up Fancy Feast. I knew he was home, but he didn't pick up the phone. He calls back 10 minutes later and said he couldn't answer because he had his white strips on and if he had answered he would've sounded like "nyahh nyahh nyahh" and I would've gotten upset with him for acting the fool. (He knows me!)

My sis, the dental hygenist, has told me that strips do work and they are safe. She isn't against them. But I've been too cheap and lazy to try them. Regular flossing is already a trial. I can't imagine taking on another tooth task.

Fancy Feast is not a trendy guy, but I have noticed that he has really good teeth. I'm beginning to suspect he is some kind of stealth groomer. So, is this the secret? And is it now just a standard part of taking care of oneself for 20-somethings? Does everyone in that generation use white strips? Something else to fret about? My teeth aren't white enough!!

Am I the only person still walking around with unstripped teeth?

Sunday, June 13, 2010


Finally remembered to follow up on JAW Fan's suggestion of last week to google the phrase "50 incher man fest" and see what came up (came up? tee hee)

Well, quite hilariously, the first thing that happened was google asked me if I was actually searching for "50 inch man fest"? Well, why not, said I? I clicked yes. And the first site was..."Attack of the 50 ft woman". How does this make any sense? It should've been Attack of the 50 inch man, no?

Nothing porny came up at all. At least not on the first page of results. I decided not to go on to page 2.

Mr. Green in the Goal without the Ball

Now that I know the Mushrooms family has seen England v USA, it is safe to discuss The Goal.
It's a shame Wide World of Sports isn't on anymore because that footage of the England goalkeeper watching the ball trickle over the line was a classic case of Agony of Defeat.

It is so rare that I am supporting the Americans in any sporting event that I must take a moment to shout: USA! USA!

And Go Ghana!

The Australians are on in an hour or so. Are their fans nuts or what? Almost, but not quite, as kookoo as the Dutch.

Couple of extra things: Orange boots? Is there any other event where so many men would wear orange boots with pride. Well, maybe at "Pride". But nowhere else. I'm not a fan of the orange boots. I hope Cannavaro won't be wearing orange boots.

And lastly, the horns. Those goddamn horns. Stop them. I can't remember what they are called. But just stop blowing them. For 2 minutes. Just 2 minutes, please.
UPDATE: Vuvuzelas. That's the name of the goddamn horns.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Too Much Soccer!

Ack! I'm already behind schedule. I didn't realize there were 3 matches today, so when I turned on the t.v. at 9:00 and saw a "post-game" show, I was bewildered.

I missed Greece v South Korea completely. Ah well. I'll catch up with those lovely, loser Greeks later.

Argentina looked good, but I really liked Nigeria. I don't know if they have a chance to advance. I guess they have to beat those lovely, loser Greeks which I guess they could, but can they beat the zippy Koreans, too?

On the Man-Fest front, Argentina: sorry, too many pony tails. Too much long hair. But, hellooo No. 9. Who knew a guy named Gonzalo doesn't have to look like a poor shoemaker?

And I love Maradona. The gestures, the jumping around like a maniac, the dramatics. He is a hoot.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Here they are!

My boys for 2010.

Best thing about this picture: No. 8 has his hand on No. 10's knee. Heya, whatta you? Somma kinda nancy boy? Getta yer handa offa my knee.

(I've been working on my Italian. Does it show?)

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Pre-World Cup Quote

The Italian coach said:

No team is superior to Italy. I don't want to stay that we're better than everyone, but you might say that we're not inferior to any other team.

I'm too sexy for my job

I've been following the silly story of the woman who is suing the bank for letting her go because she was so sexy she was distracting all her male colleagues.

We decided at lunch that when our esteemed employer cuts our jobs, this will be the avenue we will pursue in our demands for compensation.

I love the idea of me sitting before the appeals board saying "Come on, we all know I'm distractingly sexy. Admit it. For the sake of keeping the planes in the air, you had to fire me! Now pay up." (bats eyelashes)

If only I still had those shorts.

Monday, June 07, 2010

Justin Time

Well, I finally decided I should find out a little of what this Justin Bieber kid sounds like. So I went to YouTube and (briefly) listened to two songs, one of them had been listened to 49 million times and the other 115 million times.

I have never heard either of these songs before in my life. Where am I living? Planet Old, apparently. And my god, they are so bland. What is all the fuss about? Fine, I'm 49 going on 95. I don't care.

Now, if you want to talk about my kind of new teen idol, let's talk about Paolo Nutini. ooh. An Italian Scot. What ...has someone been reading my dream diary? Ok, so every song I've heard except "Candy" has been pretty boring, but Candy is awesome. Luv it.

Speaking of other things I love: two commercials. 1) The Dos Equis ones with the most interesting man in the world. Makes me laugh every single time. My favourite line: He lives vicariously...through himself, and 2) the one for Old Spice: "Two tickets to that thing you love". Brilliant ad.

Sunday, June 06, 2010

Nature Attacks!

I am not Pioneer Woman. I cannot fight off wild nature at every turn. And since when do these critters raid the garbage can in broad daylight? On the other hand, who can resist old raisin bread?

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Divorce, avoided this time

Wow, the separations are coming fast and furious. This is more hectic to keep track of than celeb deaths.

Everyone's (non) favourite Defence Minster, Peter Potato Head, and his fiancee have decided not to marry after all. Aw. Poor Petey.

A quick glance through the comments section of the G&M reveals numerous references to Peter going back to his beloved potato patch with his loyal dog by his weep and ponder. This guy is a godsend for those who like a laugh.

Friday, June 04, 2010


I know Al and Tipper are the big separation story of the week, but I just saw that the figure skaters Jaime Sale and David Pelletier are splitting up too. This is sad. They were so cute together.

I guess cuteness does not a long marriage make.

Do we need a divorce pool as well as a death pool?

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Celebrity Death: Right on schedule

Let's say, you are in a Celebrity Death Pool. Specifically, you are in a Golden Girls Death Pool. And let's say, you have made a big wager on Betty White being the last surviving Golden Girl.

Well, guess what? YOU WIN!

Rue McClanahan, RIP.

Betty will live 4ever.

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

More Chip News

Jumpin’ Jezebel in a housedress! I cannot take it anymore. Chip flavours are coming out faster than movies in the Twilight series. The new flavour in question: Ruffles’ Hot Wings. For chicken connoisseurs, let it be known, there is absolutely nothing poultry-ish whatsoever about this once-again-misnamed chip flavour. And if you’re hoping for finger-lickin’ sloppiness, forget it! None of that either! But, now, for the good news. As a BBQ chip, these taters are positively oo-la-la. The hot factor in these babies has been upped a notch, taking me back to my Puerto Vallarta vacation…but not hot in a way that will have you begging the local fireman to put his hose in your mouth (not that that’s a bad thing.) So, if you’re looking for a spicy snack that won’t set your undies on fire, these Wings win without a doubt. Yes, folks, this sack o’ potato pleasure will have you munching away like a beaver on hard wood.

On the wang-o-meter, these clucky chips rate a floppy four fowly inches where chicken inspiration is concerned; but as a BBQ potato snack, they rate a happy-as-Hell, Lucifer-lovin’ nine inches of hot afternoon delight (or any time of day for that matter.)


Countdown time: eight days until the World Cup.

Drool buckets ready?

Mr. Mushrooms bought a 50" HDTV just for this event. Mrs. Mushrooms agrees! Money well spent, eh?

Tuesday, June 01, 2010


The news I have been waiting for since 1992 has finally arrived.

Al Gore and his wife are separating.

Far be it from me to rejoice in someone else's disappointments, but....

Come to Mamma, Al, my hunny baby. I'm all yours!

Hot Diggety Dog! It's a Chip Review

This weekend, at a private social event for three, I had the opportunity of sampling the new PC flavour of chips: Ballpark Hotdog. I was hoping these stadium snacks would score a homerun…but, sadly, they didn’t even get to first base. All three of us had the same initial reaction…yuck! Immediately, we began to discuss what they tasted like. Raw wieners? Relish? Crotch sweat?...We never quite came to a conclusion. But not being ones to waste a potato-based treat, out came the dips. T. Marzetti dips, to be exact…a thick dill and a smooth ranch…mmmmm! Deliciousness ensued. I had never heard of this Marzetti fellow before, but I’m glad he crashed the party, because the wienery-relishy-crotchiness was suddenly enhanced tenfold. Wow! It was like bringing Danny DeVito home one night and waking up in the morning to find George Clooney in your bed.

Unfortunately, on the wang-o-meter these Ballpark strikeouts rate an itsy-bitsy shriveled up and shrinky-dinky 1 inch of unsatisfactory pleasure, that’ll have you saying “Hey, where’s the beef?” faster than that old lady* from the Wendy’s commercial. But, please note, covered in T. Marzetti’s creamy white substance, these hotdogs grow an added 4 inches.

*Editor's note: That would be Clara Peller.