Just Stop It Already

Why are the Americans jonesing for another war in the Middle East? I mean, really, this will be their third. Gluttons.

Just when I think Obama a.k.a Black Bush can't get any more disappointing he ratchets up the Bushiness. This is stuff to warm the cockles of Cheney's cold, cold heart, if he still had one.

I hate to go all "Mom" on them, but if you haven't finished your Soup War and your Meat-and-Potatoes War, you can't have your Dessert War. That's just the rules.

Excuse me while I go check if there is an Iranian terrorist in my closet. Apparently they are everywhere. Everywhere, I tells ya. Save the Saudis!!

Is No News Good News?

Anyone have any news? I don't.

Celebrity Death News - Niche Edition

Our dear friend, Charles Napier,
Didn’t have a wit so rapier,
But in Cherry, Harry & Raquel
We saw his wang swing like a bell.

Hee Hee

I got up late this morning and knew I was going to be late for work, but so what. I would just put in the time at the end of the day. Then I was on the bus ride from hell. What should take 35 minutes took 55. So by the time I crawled in I was 40 minutes late.

Then I found out my boss isn't in this morning.

This is my Lucky Day!! and, no, I am not putting in the time at the end of the day.

A Joke

Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this taste funny to you?"

You know what I love about this joke. The premise. Two cannibals are eating a clown.

I mean...What?

Endless Summer No More

Summer has ended and I am hoping that it will be June 2012 before I once again have to read either of the following phrases:

a) [insert celebrity name] rocks a bikini;
and
b) [insert celebrity name] shows off her bikini body.

Why is the bikini the only item of clothing that, when one is wearing it, one's whole body becomes that item. I don't get it. I think all clothes should now have this honour. I want to see this headline:

"Nanuk of the North flaunts her muumuu body"

Oh yeah, baby.

The Man from H'don

This is just to clarify that the man from H'don did not at all come across as a loser.

His message was very polite and in fact I don't think I would've even noticed him if he hadn't mentioned V'field. That may sound negative, but in the world of Craigslist that's a positive. It means he didn't send me a photo of his wiener (yes, I've gotten some choice shots in the past) and he didn't say write some eye-rolling nonsense like "allow me to make this the greatest night of your life".

So don't be dissing on the Mystery Man from the Chateauguay Valley.

I think we could probably locate him now by just driving over there and looking for the guy with the reddest ears in town.

Comrades!

I am in the midst of doing some rainy Sunday decluttering, and I have come across a piece of paper containing the title DRINK MANIFESTO.

Odd, but I don't remember us being militant drinkers. Were we ever militant drinkers?

Our DRINK MANIFESTO has 3 drinks on it:
1. Cosmopolitain Martini
2. Cosmopolitain No. 3
3. Fidelito

Now I don't want to toss out this piece of paper. That's the whole problem with decluttering. You always find something good!

P.S. To JAW Fan: I also found a picture of Banana Boy.

Romantic Male Box: Uh-Oh Edition

What an awful weekend. Could the weather be more miserable? I doubt it.

Last night I was bored, so I decided to place an ad on my old friend Craigslist and see if anyone of interest surfaced. Very little to report, though I did hear from a guy who lives on Mariette so if location, location, location is the key, I can't do better than that. But his lifestyle bears too close a resemblance to Fancy Feast's (i.e. POT) so I don't think I'll meet him.

I exchanged a few emails with one guy who seemed educated and promising, but then he mentioned that his ideal woman would be thin, nervous and an activist. 3 strikes, you're out.

Then I heard from a guy who said he lived in the V'Field area. Well, this piqued my interest because I still love V'Field and wouldn't it be fun to meet someone from there? He is 49. So I asked him where exactly he is from and he replied: "H'don". Yikes. So I had to ask if he attended CVR, and he said yes. I decided this was a bit too odd. So this mystery man was a year behind me in high school, and still lives in H'don. For sure, this is someone that the Anonymous siblings know. Too close for comfort. So I had to let it drop, though I am very curious as to who it is. He emailed this morning to ask if I'd reconsidered. I think not.

All is Golden

I'll admit I've been ignoring Parliament now that the PCs have their majority, but I can ignore it no longer. I have one question.

When did Question Period go Gay, Gay, Totally Gay?

Since when is it appropriate for one gay MP to question another gay MP about golden showers?

Sir Wilfried Laurier would not stand for this I'm sure. Trudeau no doubt would ask the two of them to keep their golden shower references in the bedroom* where the state has no business.

(*maybe the bathroom would be better.)

Creepy Guy

You know which commercial I hate? The Lenscrafters one where the guy is on the bus and laughing about a book that a woman is reading three or four seats in front of him.

Creepy!

He's a stalker! Get off the bus, girl. Get off the bus at the next stop! That guy is a creep. Run away! Run away!

Let's Play "Explain the Joke"

Here is a "joke" that JAW Fan's colleague told him yesterday.
Our mission today: 1) to explain what the joke is and 2) to figure out what anyone would find funny about this, i.e. who laughs at this kind of joke.

There was an old Chinese man named Too Old To Kum.
He married a young Chinese woman named Too Young To Kum.
But then surprisingly they had a baby, so they called him Where He Kum From.

Editor's Note: I spelled "come" as kum in a feeble attempt to make these names appear remotely Asian.

Black Arm-Bands for Everyone

I will simply reproduce this article from TMZ because what more can I say?

The SNACK GOD who invented DORITOS has passed away ... but TMZ has learned his funeral is nacho average ceremony ... 'cause the guy will be buried with 3 FLAVORS of his prized invention. Arch West -- the 97-year-old ex-Frito-Lay legend -- died last week, and his daughter announced the family plans on "tossing Doritos chips in before they put the dirt over the urn" when he is buried.TMZ spoke with West's son-in-law ... who tells us the family will use Original, Cool Ranch and Nacho flavored Doritos, since those were West's favorite. He was NOT a fan of the Cheeseburger flavor, so those will not be used. According to his daughter, West came up with the idea for Doritos during a family vacation to San Diego ... when he discovered a snack shack selling fried tortilla chips in 1961. Snack strong in heaven, Arch.

Runnin' Scared

So yesterday a guy died while running the Montreal Marathon. He collapsed 2 k's from the end.

Well, that's all the warning I need. For my own safety, I need to abandon my feeble attempts at exercise. It's too dangerous.

In other health news, I bought another bag of the organic child labour chips. mmm mmm good.

Blog Update

I draw your attention to the right-hand column where I have added links to Jim's blog and Brian's blog for eee-zee access.

Happy Bruce Day

Springsteen is 62 today.

He's got 12 years on me, so why do I feel old and decrepit?

Apocalypse Today

It's the end of the world as we know it. Not only are all world stock markets going wheeee like they are on the roller coaster at the Great Escape, but in bigger apocalyptic news: there is nothing new with Fancy Feast.

I had not heard from him in a week, so I emailed to say (literally) whazzup? He said Nothing. If you can't trust FF to have some cockamamy tale about how somebody, somewhere is treating him unfairly, well, then might as well throw in the towel.

Stick a fork in us, we're done.

RIP REM

REM have broken up. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I was a huge fan over the first 5 or 6 records, but I haven't been excited about them for years.

(Aside: As Mr. Anon and I discussed a few weeks ago, at our age, are we truly ever excited about anything in music, books, concerts, etc., anymore? Answer: No.)

Anyway, I saw REM for the first time in Washington D.C. at the DAR Constitutional Hall. It was great. I loved them. And I loved them for a long time.

Not to sound too much like old crank, but after Bill Berry left, I was not much into them anymore even though I continued to buy their records. Then they got really big....and....meh...they were just another big band.

Oh well. I enjoyed them and appreciated them, and there are some songs, many songs, I will always like. Thanks, you guys!

Work

An email from Mrs. Anon has reminded me of something funny at work.

Our Big Boss is a woman from China, with a typically Chinese name. One of the people in my department cannot remember her name so she always refers to her as "Ping Pong".

Even though I am totally appalled, I still find myself smiling at this. It's just so wrong.

Another colleague used to have a boss from West Africa who spent a lot of time on the phone speaking her native language. My colleague would complain that all day she had to listen to "ooga booga language" . Again, I'm appalled, but I can't help but laugh, mainly because I don't think people realize how horrible and ignorant they are being.

What a place.

The Earth Moved

I was lying on the couch with Miss Hitler yesterday afternoon, and I felt that unmistakeable rumble of an earthquake. Just for one or two seconds. But that sound and feeling is unique.

I looked at the headlines in the paper today and nothing. But I just checked the CBC website and read that a small 4.1 hit Gatineau at 3:19 p.m.

The article did not mention that it was felt in Montreal, but I am here to say, yes, it was felt in Montreal, at least on one couch in NDG. It wasn't just Miss Hitler shifting her fat rump.

In Work News

In a moment of insanity a couple of weeks back, I agreed to take on the editing of our Annual Report. My burnt-out colleague, who has been doing this task for 15, count'em 15, years, said she just could not face it for another year. I always felt it was wrong that the same person got assigned this "thing" year after year, so I said yeh, why not? I'll do it.

Of course, my boss, Mrs. Never Think Outside The Box, said, okay, great idea. But did it EVER occur to her in 12 years to assign the task to someone else? No, of course not.

It's going to be awful. A coordination nightmare of missed deadlines and uncooperative departments. But there ya go. It's my baby now. Just had our first meeting. Next meeting is on Monday.

I should post a picture of my hair today, while it still has some brown in it. And then post another next July when I am totally Clooney grey.

RIP Dave

As this week marked the 3rd anniversary of the death of David Foster Wallace, I finally got around to buying his unfinished novel.

Silly me, I thought it was a work-in-progress, how big could it be? Well, the thing is a brick. Only DFW would have a 550-page UNfinished book.=

I miss that man.

The Truth is Revealed

I went to the website of the Late July snack company, makers of uber yummy Dude Ranch chips.

And I read this: "Not only are all our products USDA certified organic and proudly wear the organic seal, but on any given day you can find three generations at work, including eight-year-old Stephen and four-year-old Benjamin."

So now we know. The secret of a truly great chip? Child labour.

I have seen the future, baby, it is....taxes

I'm just bursting with predictions today.

As we all know (or should know) the world economy is in the "shitter", to use the economic term. I note this news from Greece: "Greece announced an emergency property tax of about 50 cents per square foot on all buildings, payable immediately, in a effort to top up government coffers enough to meet bailout conditions."

Payable immediately! Government says we're broke, so pay up now. They will be imposing the tax through people's electric bills. Face it, we are all going to be met with this kind of surprise in upcoming years. Every goverment is going broke. And who is going to pay? Little ole us.

When I get that bill, you know what I'm going to say? "Don't look at me! Don't look at me!"

Weekend Roundup

I can't decide when I like Serena Williams better: 1) when she is overpowering and literally awesome to watch, when you think she just cannot be beat by anyone on Earth, like she was on Saturday or 2) when she is full sassy kookoo like she was on Sunday. My new expression whenever someone disagrees with me is going to be "Don't look at me! Don't look at me!" And then I will say "You are ugly on the inside". She was lousy on the court but crazily entertaining on the sidelines.

I've discovered a new chip! And a deelishious one it is. The company is called Late July and the chips I bought are called Dude Ranch. And they are dudalishly delish. And the best thing about them. I bought them at the HEALTH FOOD store, so of course they are very, very healthy and have no calories. Not a single calorie! ....at least I think that's what health-food chips are like. Well, I believe it. So it's true. NO CALORIES!

Now I'm not a terrorist, nor have I ever played one on t.v., but if I was a terrorist, I would not plan to bomb something on the anniversary date of the big event, when security is at its highest. I would wait, say, maybe a day or two, say on a Tuesday, when the barriers have come down and everyone is back to normal. Then....Surprise!

The Return of the Missing Kid

There's something very fishy about this story of the little boy abducted in BC and now back with his family.

Let me make one of my fearless (and usually wrong) predictions. The parents were in on it. Maybe they want a book deal or something, or just wanted attention. But something's not kosher about the kid ending up back in his own house in the middle of the night.

Just sayin'.

Riddle

What's the difference between 9/11 and a cow?
You stop milking a cow after 10 years.

Enough already.

Government Orders

The Harper Govt informed me that I had 24 hours to change the name of the blog.

Headline of the Day

"Intruder raids fridge, takes bath at Celine Dion's home"

That's no intruder, that's Rene.

A little touch of Fancy Feast in the evening

Got a little email from FF telling me about his new room-mates.

He says one of them is a good and generous guy, but "his social skills could use some work". Apparently, "he needs to have everyone's attention....and doesn't stop talking".

I am tempted to say: "Honey, that's not a room-mate, that's a mirror".

A Holiday from our Labours

A very happy very rainy Labour Day greeting to all. Why can't I sleep in past 7:30 on weekends? It is so frustrating.

Still no Fancy Feast news. I'm convinced that renaming the blog put a curse on FF updates. I may change it back if this trend continues.

But fortunately, we'll always have Kumar. Being a holiday weekend, a visit from Kumar was not unexpected, but I was caught off guard (translation: with both cheeks smeared with face cream!) when I saw an unfamiliar car stop in front of the house. An unfamiliar Mercedes. And who emerges from it, but Kumar himself.

After rapidly wiping aforesaid face cream from face, I greeted him in my usual warm and loving way i.e. "What are you doing here? You couldn't call or email first?" He said: "You know me. I'm like that." True, if I haven't learnt to expect the unexpected after 3 (!) years, then I am indeed a slower learner.

So I went out front to check out the Mercedes. He had told me in the Spring he'd bought a used one, a 2003. But, skeptic, that I am, I scoffed. But there it was. Still in good shape and very very nice. He's thinking of selling it. I want to buy it! A woman of my stature deserves a Merc in her 50s. No?

He said he is very materialistic, but the things he buys don't make him happy for long. At least he has accepted this about himself. Will he stop buying status symbols? No, probably not. But at least he knows they don't do much in terms of fulfiling his needs. I understand that...and yet...I still want to buy that car!

No FF news is bad news

Wouldn't you know it? Now that the blog has been renamed, there is basically nothing new with Fancy Feast. That's life, eh?

Yesterday we discussed whether or not he should be wearing a tie to work. I think he should dress to impress, but he said that in this job he has to visit clients, which sometimes means having to get on the floor under a desk to work on cables. If he was wearing a tie, he would likely kneel on it, thus choking himself.

We both agreed this is bad. So, no tie.

It's a holiday weekend coming up. This means he will be spending 3 days in the company of his new room-mates. How likely is it that he will be at war with these new people by Sunday? Stay tuned...

A-hoarding we will go, a-hoarding we will go

I watched HGTV's new hoarder show last night. It is not as scary as the American hoarder shows, which is a good thing because it is easier to identify with these people than with the American hoarders who are for the most part mentally ill.

The family on last night's show wasn't deranged, they just couldn't get rid of their stuff. Like me. I'm not THAT crazy, I just can't get rid of all my stuff.

But real life is more effective than t.v. for motivating me. On Monday I was over at the Tall Teacher's place to bid him adieu before he heads to the Nation's Capital. I've always considered his apartment to be very sparsely furnished (which I admired). As I entered the place, he said: "Don't judge me!!" So imagine my shock when I saw the sheer number of boxes in his small apt. "But, but", I sputtered, "you don't even own that much". How could he have all these boxes in his kitchen?

This really shook me up because I thought I'd have to multiply the boxes in his kitchen by about 1000 to estimate the amount of crap I own. And how much of it do I really need? A fraction; a small fraction.

File this under: Major Waker Upper.

Blog Update

I made a little update to the right-hand column. Maybe this will appease the IWOIB. Gulp!

FF Question of the Day

Fancy Feast's new employer has an office in Lachine. How long before I start hearing murmurings about a transfer?

The Fancy Feast Report (subtitle: NO EXCEPTIONS)

This guy deserves his own blog. And maybe a Twitter feed because there is always something new and weird going on his life. I'm so boring compared to FF. What is my life missing, you ask? Shenanigans? Oddities? Weirdness? Call it what you will.

Since we last heard about FF, here is a rundown of what has happened in his life:

1. Started his new job. Wore a tie on the first day, discovered he was overdressed.
2. When to work today without a tie.
3. Got presented with a 2-page "renter agreement" (i.e. rant) from the friends he was crashing with. Choice exerpts below.
4. To escape current room-mates, answered an ad from people looking for a new room-mate.
5. Found new room-mates.
6. Borrowed money from his sister to pay Sept rent to new room-mates.
7. Is preparing to move out this evening.

Now about the "renter agreement", let's say it gives Sheldon and Leonard's room-mate agreement a run for its money. I'm just going to quote a few choice bits. Apparently the pot is a problem. And the sex. And co-habiting with dogs. FF refused to sign the agreement when they presented it, which is why he is moving out.

1. "Monday to Friday is work days which means early nights. Anyone coming over and staying over past 10:00 pm must be respectful of those who are sleeping and have to be up early for work. I will kick anyone out who is not being respectful of this rule.

Any sexual encounters must be in your own bedroom or in the shower. NO EXCEPTIONS. We are not ok with other people’s bodily liquids and it’s downright rude. Again be respectful of others who are around no one wants to hear your sexual encounters."

2."Follow the guide lines that have been set up for how we have trained our dogs and what we do with them. Yes they are not your dogs but... If you let them out you will have to deal with the consequence and responsibilities that come with the dogs. You will have to clean a dirty bum and will need to keep a watch full eye on them and you will have to take off the underwear for when the girls are in heat. It is part of co-existing with them and not being cruel. If they get out you will be held responsible for the consequences that happen outside or within the yard. This is a law that is held here in Calgary so be very carefully I cannot stress this how important that is. We would never forgive you if something happened to any of the dogs. Be very wise and responsible."

3. "No chemicals at ALL or anyone on chemicals in the house".

Thank goodness pot is a weed and not a chemical, is all I can say.

Happy B-Day

to BJB, biographer of pornographer.

I'm not sure but I suspect BJB is the only one amongst us who gets younger every year. How he do that?

After the storm

I lost power for 6 hours yesterday during the remnants of Irene. The power got knocked off really early around 11. It had barely started raining, but this is the price you pay when you live in the neighbourhood of tall, mature trees. The hydro lines come down with very little wind. Alas.

A whole Sunday without power is a long day. By 4:30 I was hankering for some hot food. So I had an idea, and here is the real tragedy. I called up Chalet, and they had NO delivery service. Shudder. They too had suffered power outages, so no delivery, but there would be take-out service if I wanted to wait. Chicken would be back on-line at 6:30.

Chalet! It saw us through the ice storm with flying colours, but yesterday was not so lucky. Oh well. My power came back on at 5:30 and I had pasta in a hurry in case I was in the dark again. But I wasn't.

Fin de Irene.

Hell Freezes Over

Fancy Feast has decided he's going to wear a tie in his new job. He wants to fit in and "dress the part".

I'm speechless.

Good news dept: Fancy Feast has a Job

Alberta, he's all yours.

Yes, he is soon to be gainfully employed. This is great news for me for two reasons: 1) I may start to see some of my "investment" come back to me in upcoming months and 2) I won't come home from work to the surprise of finding an Egyptian pothead anarchist on my front porch. It's all good.

Of course, being FF, he seems to have nearly talked himself out of the job during salary "negotiations". Permit me, through the miracle of "cut and paste" to have him tell his own story. The $25 in question is the hourly wage. Apologies for the quality of this excerpt. I have no idea why it won't paste correctly. grrr.

Okay, I got the job. They offered $25. :/

I started to talk back a bit...

Me:"$25? Really? How did they come up with that number?"

HR Rep: "Uhhh that's their rate....?"

Me: "They had asked me what my salary expectation was, and I told them I wanted $25 - $30, depending on how many of the requirements I met. Are they saying I didn't meet any requirements?"

HR Rep: "Uhmmm...."

Me: "Alright, you know what... it's fine. They offer annual raises, right?"

HR Rep: "Oh yeah, for sure, there will be raises"

Me: "Okay, it's fine then. I'll accept."

HR Rep: "Really? Okay great! I'll let them know!"

You know, I wasn't sure what I was thinking... But it didn't take long for me to realize that I'm arguing about a job offer and not going about it in a way that I'd get more money... So I shut up real quick. LOL -end cut and paste -

You know what's good about this? He realized he was screwing up and shut himself up. This is real progress.

Dysfunctional

Smoothie is in a panic. Next week is his parents' 40th wedding anniversary and he has to find a gift to give to his mother FROM his father.

Dad does not shop for gifts. Dad looks like Rasputin, and Dad up until yesterday had literally not left the house since June. He is a teacher and the last time he was out of the house was the last day of school. I know. It's very weird.

Anyway, so Smoothie has no clue what to get his mother. Apparently it has to be something nice because the mother apparently got a very nice gift for her husband. Mom of Smoothie is taking a trip later this year so I have so far suggested new luggage or a nice leather passport holder. Both were rejected. Then I suggested one of the digital photo frames loaded with family pictures. She got one last year; it is still in the box. Perfume? Nope, no go.

Now I have suggested that Rasputin get a shave and a haircut. If he were my husband, that would be the Bestest Gift Ever.

I'm wondering

Would there be public outpourings of grief if Harper kicked the bucket in 3 months or so?

Sad Monday continues: RIP Blackie

The fate of Blackie was revealed to me tonight. He died, and you will not believe where. In the CPN's backyard.

They were away last week and their daughter was home alone. She came to tell me that she found Blackie curled up under some lawn furniture one evening last week. She thought he was sleeping so she left him alone but after a few hours she realized he was dead. The next morning she called the SPCA and they took him away.

I am sad, but so relieved to know that he died quietly in a safe spot and was not mauled by a raccoon or run over by a car. He had been disoriented a couple of times in the past two weeks, so I guess he was sick but didn't really show it. Now I can sleep at night and stop worrying about him.



Mr. Cool chillin' in the backyard, July 2011.

Sad New to Start the Week

Jack Layton died. Wow. That was so fast. I'm shocked. He was 61.

This is a reminder to all to enjoy life now. (Yes, this advice from a chronic malcontent and complainer. I do see the irony.) We all think we're going to have a nice long retirement. It doesn't always work that way.

The deepening mystery of Blackie, le disparu

There still aren't any lights on at the house of Blackie's real owners. Last night around 10:00, I walked over to case the joint. The lights were all out and the windows closed, but three of their cats were sitting on the front lawn. This means that although the people are away, they have left a back window open for kitties to come and go.

But no Blackie. So either they took him with them or they've got him in a room without access to the open window... Blackie, where are you? I wondered. I looked at the other cats but they just stared back at me. Useless kitties.

Don't Mess with the PMS Lady

I cut my grass tonight and since it had not been cut in ages, it was jungle land so I had lots of raking to do. I was finishing up by going to the north side of the house. I turned the corner from the back yard to the north side and there's a guy, standing next to my recycling bin, peeing. In my driveway. I saw his wang and everything!

Me: (startled) (yelling) WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?
Peeing Guy: (startled) I'm so sorry. I have to pee.
Me: (still yelling) Get off my property!
PG: I'm really sorry, but I have to pee.
Me: (always yelling) I don't care. Get off my property!
PG: But, lady, I was going to pee in my pants!

Note that I am holding a rake in both hands the whole time and am now walking towards him.

Me: I don't give a shit! Get the hell off my property!
PG: I'm really sorry. I'll pay you. I'll give you money!
Me: I don't want money! I want you to get off my fucking property!
PG: But I have to finish!

At this point, I realize that this guy is not a trouble-maker or a vagrant, just a young guy who urgently had to pee and picked the wrong place. He seems more scared than I do at this point. I am now A Crazy Rake-Wielding PMS Head Case. As I walk back towards the back yard I say:

Me: I'll call the cops if I see you here again!
PG: Lady, I'm NEVER coming back here.

I go around the corner, but I can still hear him yelling:

PG: I'm really sorry.

This is so much funnier to me now than it was 2 hours ago. :D

Le Disparu

Blackie is AWOL. He was nowhere to be seen last night or this morning.

I had a sleepless night.

The most obvious explanation is that his real owners have taken him home. I suspect this may be the case because normally they keep all their windows open so their 5 or 6 kitties can come and go as they please, but this morning all the windows were shut. And there were no cats on their lawn.

Then again, maybe this is to keep the cops away. I don't know.

I has a sad for my disappeared Blackster. I hope nothing bad has happened to him.

The Blackie Dilemma

It appears that the "real owners" of Blackie the cat have sold their house. So I've been trying to decide whether to give up custody and let them take him back when they go. I figured it might be for the best, except that I learned on my return from TO last night that Blackie's "real" father had been arrested over the weekend. I know not what for.

Do I want to return Blackie to a disfunctional, indeed criminal, household? I don't know what to do.

I left him for two days outside without food, since he can't share the indoor territory with the others. I suspected he would be starving on my return. So I let him in the mud room right away where there was a bowl of dry food waiting. He looked at it with utter disdain. Really, pal? After two days with nothing, you are still turning up your nose at dry food? So I got him a can of moist shredded chicken. Spoiled brat.

Should he stay or should he go?

Me and my nice shorts

This one is for JAW Fan.

Tall Teacher was looking at a picture I have of myself wearing my BEAUTIFUL patterned shorts from way back when. The shorts that JAW Fan loved so much.

I asked TT, what year do you think that is from? He looks and say "Based on the length of the shorts and the pattern, I'd say 1987". "You're very close," I said. He took a second look. "I'll revise and say 1985."

That picture was indeed taken in 1985. Uncanny 1980s fashion knowledge. I'm guessing it's because his oldest sister is the same age as me, so he may have been exposed to such fashion sense at a young age and remains scarred.

A brief exchange

Talking to the Tall Teacher last night.

TT (excitedly): Lil Wayne's coming to the Bell Center.
Nanuk: And I'm supposed to care about this why?
--Pause--
TT: Fine. Lil Beethoven's coming to the Bell Center. Is that better?

Today in FF

I deposited Fancy Feast's cheque today. Que sera sera.

He has a job interview today in Calgary. With the competition. It's the big telecom whose advertisements have cute bunnies and lizards, etc. He should fit right in with those creatures.

JFK and LBJ

The news is that Jackie Kennedy believed Lyndon Johnson paid Lee Harvey Oswald to off her husband.

I wish my father was alive to read this. He always believed that Johnson was behind the assassination. And, maybe just because I grew up hearing that, I've always believed it too.

So much for JFK's thinking that you keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. This is the ultimate FAIL of that theory.

Last Night at Place des Arts

It was an exciting night as Mr. Anon and Sister Anon got their thrill meeting Smoothie. He gets nervous meeting new people, and trying to make a good impression, and literally cannot stop talking. What can I say? It cannot be helped.

Within 5 minutes of meeting Sis Anon, Smoothie was pointing at the front of his pants and saying "Hey look at this". I was struck dumb, not knowing where this was heading. But it was just his proud display of his weight loss and adjusted belt notches. (!!!!) What a nut.

He later said, twice, that Sis Anon is "so cute" and seems likes "a very liberal woman". Take that as you may. (?!?!)

Anyway, I thought things were going okay with just Mr and Sis Anon but when the other fellow showed up, and Smoothie attempted to display his movie trivia knowledge, I knew this was a potential social disaster in the making, but he just would not shut up. Like many people his age, he thinks he knows a lot about movies, when frankly, he knows alot about movies in the past 20 years, and very little about anything else. So berating him in the theatre, I said this guy knows more than you ever will and you shouldn't really be challenging him. Then he said: "that guy's gay, right?" I said I was not aware of his status, but I believed it was "confused".

Today's FF Dilemma

Loyal readers of the FF saga will recall that last month I advanced him some money ($435) that he was waiting to receive as a reimbursement of his pension plan contribution to Ma Bell. The contribution was expected to be in the form of a cheque and the agreement was that when he returned to Montreal he would deposit said cheque and give me my money back.

Well, the cheque arrived in the mail yesterday. The company withheld more than $60 in taxes etc. so it is for $372 only.

My question today is: when do I tell FF that I've received the money? Because we ALL know darn well that when he knows I've got the cheque he's going to want me to deposit it ASAP and he'll use it all up on pot, beer, olive oil and fresh dill.

But the cheque is of no use to me as it is made out to him, so is there a reason why I should sit on this news and not inform him? I could always tell him I've got the money and say I'm not depositing it until I see his chubby little face again, but what will that serve. I'll still be out $435 until he shows up.

Suggestions? I knew this situation would arise once the money showed up. Until he settles his account with me, I'm out $435 that I forwarded in good faith to him. Question is: how will he react? He has all the leverage here, is he smart enough to use it?

Another One Joins the 50 Club

I'm speaking, of course, of the President of the United States.

The Presidency has really aged him. He still looks great for an old guy of 50, but the past couple of years have made him greyer and greyer. And no wonder. What a shitty job he has.

Yes, you will walk alone

"Comedian Jerry Lewis is no longer serving as the Muscular Dystrophy Association’s national chairman and won’t be appearing on this year’s Labour Day telethon, the nonprofit agency announced Wednesday night. "

Complete this phrase: Labour Day weekend without Jerry is like.....

Argh!

Summer is passing too fast, and I'm just not appreciating it.

It's not just me, right?

It's the Holidays!

Happy Ramadan everybody!

I've decided that attempting to stick to my low-carb diet will be my infidel version of fasting. But that doesn't mean I get to stuff my face with carbs after sundown.

At least I'll try not to. Evening carbs are the best carbs.

Phantom

What is happening with seeing scary Lon Chaney next weekend?

I cannot reach Mr. Anon nor JAW Fan, and I have lost my address book so I can't reach Sister Anonymous either. Has everyone bought their tickets?

Smoothie has decided he wants to go so he will be picking up tickets for the two of us this afternoon. He can get more tickets if I hear from anyone.... helloooo out there!

Saturday Night at the Movies

Saw Crazy, Stupid, Love last night. There is a funny scene where Steve Carrell is attempting to pick up a much younger woman in a bar. His character's name is Weaver. So he says "Like Dennis Weaver" and she stares at him blankly. That really made me laugh. Then he says "like McCloud". And she still looks blank. At that point, I was laughing really hard.

And then the punchline.

Smoothie leans over and says: "I don't get it. Who was McCloud?"

A Breakthrough?

Last weekend when my friend's car wouldn't start up in the mountains, we had to climb up a dirt path on a hill to get to my other friend's parents' house to seek help. Climbing that hill I felt that this was "a sign from God" to lose weight and get back to exercising, as I was gasping in a most unpleasant and unladylike fashion. (Not to mention the swearing.)

So this week I bought a diet book. It's that French diet that everyone seems to be on. I'm reading the book. This may be as far as my new diet plan goes because that Frenchie diet seems unreasonable, unsustainable and possibly damaging to one's kidneys, if nothing else.

So maybe no Frenchie diet for me. But I still have to do something. I'll keep reading the book.

FF Update

I emailed FF and he called me right away. He is in Calgary living with friends, and he has a free long-distance line that only works when he is on-line, so he was on-line and we talked for 20 minutes.

When I told him about the $722.00, he said (as expected) "Screw Bell". LOL. I knew that was coming.

He is broke, of course, but expects to start working at some computer thing within the week. He needs $100 in the meantime, but said that I was "literally the last person on earth" he will ask. He has a couple of other people to try and squeeze first, and I was grumbling that he knows how I feel about lending money.

Me: I really don't want you to call back and ask.
Him: Neither do I. I haven't even asked and you're already riding me!

He sounds really relaxed and happy. Which is good. And he's lost a lot of weight. Apparently, he's a real chick magnet now. I said: you always were. He laughed in an embarrassed, but pleased way.

Telephone line, give me some time

I tried to call FF on his cell, but the number is no longer in service. I guess his ex-company finally caught on that he is an ex-employee. Oh well.

I'll just have to wait to hear from him to tell him the great news that he owes the company $722.00.

My weekend

I have just returned from a weekend Up North. I was supposed to be back last night and at work today, but my friend's car battery died yesterday and we could not depart until she got boosted this morning. Then we drove to Ste Agathe on her boosted battery to a dealership where she got a new battery and we tootled on home. What an ordeal! If that car had stopped on the dirt roads of Up North, we were thinking it was Deliverance time! But we survived.

But Amy Winehouse didn't, I have just read. Too bad. I liked her.

And Jack Layton looks like he's on his way out too. I guess the campaign was just too strenous for his body. What a shame.

And now for a Fancy Feast update: there was some mail for him from his employer. As I have permission to open it, I did. And ha ha ha his last pay was a mistake. He should not have received it. So he now owes them $722.00. I can't wait to give him a call and hear what he says about that. Maybe he'll never be allowed to own a land line again until he pays up. I wonder if his company blackberry is still working. I'll soon find out.

Ontario: The Home Wrecker

First it was Kumar was went off to the greener pastures of Toronto; now it is my Tall Teacher who is heading off to Ottawa.

Ontario is my Other Woman, luring my men with her siren's call into her clutches!

What does Ontario have I don't have? I ask you. ..... oh yeah, jobs. Careers.

I shake my fist weakly at you, heartless Ontario.

No News from Fancy Feast

I have not heard from FF in five days. Does this mean:

a) he has learnt to manage his money?
b) he got a job?
c) he has run off with the medical marijuana delivery woman and will live happily stoned ever after?
d) his phone died and he can't reach me?

News News

I've been spending a lot of the morning going to various sites and live blogs reading the testimony of the police and the Murdochs (no, not those nice Murdochs) before the Parliamentary Committee.

It's been fascinating but it just got amazing with old Rupert being smacked in the face with a shaving foam pie.

Too bad the News of the World doesn't exist anymore. It could put that on its front page.

Reverse Ceausescu Fail

You may remember that back in the bad old days, Hall of Famer Dictator Nicolae Ceausescu would not allow temperatures to be reported when they were below minus 15. The logic being that people wouldn't suspect they were freezing to death if they didn't know it was minus 25.

Given the current heat wave, I decided over the weekend to launch the Reverse Ceausescu manoeuvre. Readers of this blog will know I am addicted to the Weather Network. So it was quite a challenge I undertook to not check the weather on t.v. or on the Internet, no matter how hot it was.

This worked perfectly yesterday. Yeah, it was hot. But I dunno how hot exactly, and I did okay. Had supper in an air-conditioned restaurant with Smoothie. No wine. No overheating.

But today, around 4:00 p.m. I was sitting in the backyard with Blackie and I started to feel woozy and unwell. So I came inside and sat in front of the fan until I felt a bit recovered, and then being only human, I turned on the Weather Network.

Well, the dang Humidex is 39. Three-nine. No wonder I felt like crap. Thank you Weather Network. You are a pal.

We have a winner!

MsMushrooms fearlessly predicted that FF would be in touch for more money as of Friday morning B.C. time.

And she is right! Sadly, I have no prize to award to her.

He is down to $50. He bought a sleeping mat and a camp stove. Also, beer, pot and cigarettes. Why cigarettes when he is a non-tobacco smoker? They are a good appetite suppressant when on the road. Whatever!

Oh, and olive oil. He bought some olive oil. And soya sauce, onions, garlic and fresh dill.

A Tragedy of Shakespearean Proportions

Move over, Othello.
Scram, Hamlet.
O woe is me, Nanuk.

Provigo was out of Greek Feta-shist Chips. Nary a bag to behold on the shelf. I was wounded to the core.

I needed to apply a balm to my wound. So I picked up a bag of Thick Cut Sour Cream & Dill.

I'm starting to revive...

Crisis Averted for Today

FF now has $200 in his account. I called him from the bank.

Me: Hi. I just deposited the money.
FF: Thank you (happy voice)
Me: it's supposed to be instantaneous, so it should be there.
FF: Uh..I checked 30 seconds ago, and I saw it. It's there.
Me: Good.
FF: When can I expect the next installment?
Me: When you need it. But if it is within 48 hours, you are in big trouble.
FF: (Nervous laughter) Ok. I'll call you back later.

Any estimates on when that 2nd installment will be requested? I'm guessing Monday. It's been 20 minutes. He's probably already bought beer....and olive oil. He was upset at the high price of olive oil in B.C. Only he would be complaining about that.

Movin' On Up

Went to see Horrible Bosses last night. It's pretty funny, but the language, people, the language. At the risk of being seen as an Old Fart-ette, did it have to be so vulgar? And I say this as a big fan of The Big Lebowski. Sometimes swearing is funny, and sometimes it's just excessive and boring.

But my point is, I saw it at Cavendish with Smoothie. As we were leaving the theatre, walking through the parking lot, he points and says: Look, a two-door Bentley. Frankly, I could not tell one car from another, but he is an obsessed car guy. So apparently there was a Bentley. At the bus stop, this car pulls up and he says: check out that Lamborghini. Who knew? It was pretty nice, but I didn't know what it was. Not 30 seconds later, he points and says: Aston Martin.

I'm living in the wrong neighbourhood.

Don't Kill Me for This

Fancy Feast just called. I'm advancing him some money. Don't kill me, please. I know better, but I'm doing it anyway.

If you look back to last Friday's blog post, he is entitled to $400 from his employee's pension plan. He needs the money. It will take at least 6 weeks, according to the paperwork in my possession, for them to process the request for the cheque. He can't wait 6 weeks.


So I'm putting the money in his account, $200 for now, and when he is back in Montreal he will deposit the cheque and pay back his debt. He has always paid up in the past, so I am trusting him to pay up in the future. I won't lend him the whole $400 at once because I told him he will blow it all and I am protecting him from himself. He whined about that. Tough shit, buddy. Take the $200 or leave it.


He said he will be back in Montreal WAY before November because B.C. is incredibly expensive. Gee, now he knows what the rest of the country has known for years. He can't afford to buy beer, and a steak at the grocery store costs $10.00. I didn't ask him for the price of pot. It must be cheap, since they grow so much of it out there.

Bliss, thy name is Bus

I was waiting for the 103 yesterday afternoon in the infernal heat and deadly humidity. Being the delicate flower that I am, I was wilting.

The bus came, I got on, and Oh My Goodness Gracious, it was air-conditioned. An air-conditioned city bus.

I was transported, in more ways than one. Heavenly.

It is a pilot project only, so I dunno how many buses are likely to get A/C in the future, but yesterday was THE day for testing it out. One of the few times in my life I wished for a longer ride.

Kumar: Back to the Future

Had an unexpected visit from Kumar on the weekend. The man still has no sense of time.

When I met Kumar, almost 3 years ago, his goal was to land a good civil service job. Which he did, finally, as a Business Analyst/Project Manager in Toronto. A civil service career would show everybody back home that he was successful in Canada. So now after 2 years, he is bored, unchallenged and wants to get out and start up his own business again.

Apparently you can’t make serious money in the civil service, you have to work for yourself to be really successful. And apparently the next decade are the prime earning years.

See what happens when we let in these “brown” immigrants, with their “goals” and “ambitions”. They just want to make “money” and be “successful” and make the rest of us public servants look lazy. Harrumph.

I asked him if he got along with his colleagues in the Ontario Civil Service. He said “They think I’m a bitch”. Really, I said, a bitch? “Yeah, but I say you have your projects, I have my projects, we work on them, you don’t have to be my friend”. Warm and fuzzy, he ain’t.

How I want to go

I see that a large crowd is expected at the funeral of the guy in Texas who fell over the railing while reaching for a baseball. Unfortunately it wasn't G.W. Bush. Oh well.

This got me to thinking that it might be cool to die a really silly, pointless death. It would make me a posthumous "celebrity". And would be less painful and awful than slowly wasting away from an actual disease.

I think I'd like to be known as the woman who met her maker in the Giant New-Dill-Flavoured-Doritos-Free-Giveaway Stampede.

U2....live in my living room

The wind is blowing just the right way tonight. I can hear the U2 concert perfectly sitting in my living room.

Bono is talking to the crowd right now. He started in French but has now switched to English.

I couldn't hear anything last night, but it is very clear tonight.

Mysterious Way is one of my fave songs, and they've already played it. I guess I'm awake until the end of the show. Why go to bed? All I Want Is You is on now. This is really fun. And it's free!

Update: I just emailed Smoothie since he is in Cote St. Luc and therefore much closer to the site than I am, and he can't hear anything. The wind, she works in mysterious ways. It is SO loud here right now. They are playing Beautiful Day and it sounds great. :D Happy Icon.

Chip Review by Nanuk

Apologies to JAW Fan if he already covered this flavour. There have been so many I can't remember, and since I don't tag my posts like a serious, proper blogger would, I don't have any way to check.

I was in Provigo yesterday, scanning the chip aisle for something a little different. Let us be honest about it, President's Choice makes a huge number of "exotic" chip flavours, but in the vast majority of cases, the essential flavour comes down to "barbecue". They all are just variations on barbecue chips. NOT that there's really anything wrong with that, is there?

Anyway, I spied the various bags of delectables, and came across one that promised not to be another riff on barbecue. Under the rubric World of Flavours* I found Greek, which is feta, olive and oregano flavour.

I may never have mentioned this before but I am a serious feta-shist. I lurve me some of that feta. I am a fan of all things Greek, except getting in the butt.**

Thus, I purchased these Greek lovelies. The verdict? PDG, pretty darn good. Not barbecue at all, but still spicy, tangy and Greeky. Permit me to avail myself of the wang-o-meter and rate them a solid 7 inches.


*I appreciate that u in Flavours, but if I was in charge of this product line, I would call it World o' Chips.
**What would a chip review be without a JAW Fan-like comment.

Hanging out in the park

I received mail yesterday, which included a two-week old issue of Maclean's with Jack Layton on the cover. Turns out the park on Chester where I once drunkenly smoked one of JAW Fan's cigarettes (after lying in the street on Coronation) is named for Jack's grandfather. Who knew?

So I was googling the name of the park and found that it is included in a website called "Gay Cruising Sites in Montreal". I did not click on that particular link. I'm at the office. I doubt that it is very highly rated as a gay cruising park. It's full of old Italians playing bocce every night. They seem like gay old Italians, but they are definitely not old gay Italians.

It does seem to be a good pot-smoking park, however. I often notice a smell. Not that I ever did that myself. We did our pot smoking at home as it should be.

Speaking of the old pot-smoking days, in yesterday's mail I also received a letter for Fancy Feast from his ex-employer. I opened it by accident, I didn't look at who it was addressed to since, hey, I'm the only one living at this address. Seems his ex-employer has $400 in a pension plan with FF's name on it and they want to know what he wants to do with the money. I sent an email trying to track him down. God knows where he is, on the road like Kerouac. Surely a man who had only $15 to his name last week would be happy to learn there is $400 coming his way.

Shall we talk about Canada Post?

The posties have been back to work for a week now. Am I supposed to believe there's no backlog of mail to be delivered? On Monday I didn't get anything.

There's been plenty of junk. That always seems to come through. But what about bills that I know should have arrived by now? Where are they?

Smoothie's mother spoke to her letter carrier last week and was told that they are not allowed to work overtime to clean up the backlog. Great.

They want to make themselves obsolete. Be my guest.

Work news

A bit of positive work news, for a change.

I had a meeting this morning with a very enthusiastic person about a new project. We are going to write a proposal for our "thing" by the end of the month.

I'm now in a weird twilight zone because I'm not sure how to feel about being interested in work again. It's so foreign and unlike me.

This "thing" will however mean getting released from my current dept for a few months. Awww, what a SHAME that would be.

FF: *sigh*

FF emailed last night to ask for a loan. Or, to put it his way, to ask if I was okay with the idea that he ask for a loan.

I said he couldn't have one because I knew he would never be able to pay it back. He called me judgemental. ha! said I.

Overnight, he sent an apologetic email, saying he didn't want to get in a fight about it.

He will not get a loan from me, but he's smart enough to know that this is a bridge he must not burn. He may be nuts on many levels, but he's no fool.

In brighter news: I'm off work for a couple of days. Time to declutter. ha!

On the road

FF update: He emailed this morning to say he is in Toronto and is already broke.

He has $15 to his name. When he arrived in Toronto yesterday he had $40. So where did that $25 go? I suspect beer. But I could be wrong. (Not likely, though.) It wasn't on pot because he stocked up with $50 worth in Ottawa. Even he can't go through $50 of pot in three days.

Shall we have a pool to predict the exact date he shows up on my doorstep? It will be way before November, won't it?

I had a Dream

I had one of those dreams last night where I wake myself up because I am laughing. I believe the Anonymi family is away this week, but I’ll post this now while I remember it and direct their attention to it for their return. This is because it involves Mr. Anonymous. He is the “star” of the dream.

In my dream, Mr. A. and I are married (!?) and we are in bed in that classic sit-com domestic arrangement where we are both sitting up, in our pajamas, reading our books. Mr. A. is wearing reading glasses, the half-moon type that Homer wears whenever he has reading glasses on.

Mr. A. is reading a John LeCarre type novel. Here is my reproduction of the cover.

Mr. A. pauses, and looks at me very seriously, and says “You know, I think I’ve figured out what is up with the main character in this novel.”

I say: “Oh yeah, what is it?”

And he says, completely unironically and without any kind of humorous intent: “He is an imposter”.

I woke up laughing.

Life is dull w/o FF

Since Fancy Feast left, there's nothing to talk about. Let's see...

On Saturday night, Smoothie came over for supper. Once again, he is insisting that I eat healthy, so he wanted to be in charge of the menu. I'm good with that. We had chicken, veggies, rice and sweet potatoes. But his "kitchen prep" is not good and I was hovering around him trying to get him to turn down burners that were too hot, etc., etc. He was getting pissed off at me, but we were saved by the bell, i.e. the phone rang.

And it was Fancy Feast on the line. The first call I'd received since he left. And guess what? He needed my help. He was at his brother's place in Ottawa and....wait for it...the computer wasn't working. I was polite enough NOT to ask if he broke it, but let's assume he did. So while Smoothie cooked away in the kitchen, I went on line at the Pirate Bay to find Windows keys and read them to FF who tried to restart his bro's computer. It didn't work.

I had to hang up because supper was ready. I told FF that Smoothie was making supper for me and his reaction was: "Great!"...followed by...."Is he a better cook than I am?" I could not answer because I hadn't tried Smoothie's cooking yet. FF said he will call back soon and I am to tell him who is the better chef. He has no worries; he is far superior to Smoothie. Smoothie cooks like a regular person; FF cooks as if his life depends on it. I'm still trying to figure out how to lose those 6 pounds he gave me.

I hadn't missed FF at all since his departure. In fact, I was relishing my newly spacious home. But after talking to him, I kinda miss the big lug. He said he'll be back in November...

The Fancy Feast Saga has come to an end

FF departed for Ottawa a couple of hours ago. Loaded down with camping gear, he could barely stand up straight. I said he was going to fall over backwards because his knapsack was so heavy and bulky, and he would lie on the sidewalk, arms and legs flailing, like a bug.

I will miss him. The last 2 and 1/2 months have been a very fun, interesting and exasperating time.

Now I need to check how much more grey hair I have, compared to back on 31 March.

Life with Fancy Feast, Part XXXIV

We were at Canadian Tire today, looking for a tent for FF's cross-country hitch-hiking trip. We didn't find the one he wanted. He's on his own to keep looking tomorrow. He needs to go to the CT near Angrignon. Maybe an Anonymous can help him....? heh heh.

Anyway, near the front, he stops at a display. It is a box of small candle holders, the ones that float that you can put in your pond to light it up at night.

FF: I used these in the bath.
Me: Really?
FF: Yeah, I like the glow of the floating candles.
Me: I didn't know you were such a romantic.
FF: I had floating lights and scented candles that smelled like the beach.
Me: How romantic!
FF: And music playing, of course.
Me: You really surprise me. I had no idea you were so romantic.
FF: (pause) I was alone.
Me: What?
FF: I was alone.
Me: Why would you go through all that trouble if you were alone?
FF: It felt nice and it was relaxing.
Me: I really thought you were describing something you did with a girl.
FF: Nope. Just me. Hey. Sometimes when there's nobody else to pamper you, you just have to pamper yourself.
Me: I suppose you're right.

Five hours later, I'm still shaking my head over that one.

Hey, I'm Ordinary

Except for the Ontario part, this would be me. From The Globe & Mail:

Daily alcohol consumption, marijuana smoking and psychological distress rates among adults are on the rise, potentially troubling trends that could have major health implications, a new report warns.

The Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto released a survey Monday that found a growing number of Ontario adults are drinking alcohol every day, using cannabis and reporting symptoms associated with poor mental health.

Doomed to Obesity

BGTSmoothie stopped by my office just now to collect something. It was 3:00 p.m. I met him in the lobby and he handed me a bag from McD's. What is this? I asked. It was a cheeseburger. Why would I need a cheeseburger in the middle of the afternoon. He said that he doubted that a "woman like you" would go from lunch to supper without a snack. Yes, I might have an afternoon snack, but it would never be a cheeseburger.

I had to accept it because he could not take it back because a cheeseburger combines meat and dairy and that isn't kosher. So I was stuck with a dilemma. Eat it or throw it out. *sigh* Because I am the kind of person who cannot throw out perfectly good food, I ate it. It was tasty. I was not in the least bit hungry. I'm mad at myself and at Smoothie.

I had leftover fish-n-chips from last night's supper (we ordered in) for lunch and I am having a rib eye steak (prepared by FF) for supper. And now a cheeseburger in between. Last week I was complaining about my weight to the Tall Teacher and he said "Hey, 100 more pounds and you can be on the Biggest Loser". Maybe I should aim for that. *sigh* (bis)

The End of the Pot Blog?

Latest report is that Fancy Feast will be departing my humble abode on Thursday. I guess that will be the end of my pot education. On Saturday, he came home excitedly saying that he had something for me to try, but he lost it. It was hash. It was lost. He didn't know where. What a pot head.

JAW Fan's Healthy Food Review

In an attempt to help promote Healthy Eating and Dieting, here is the first Fruit and Vegetable Review:

For months now, I have been bewildered and amazed by the freaky-looking Dragon Fruit. I have espied them not only at my local Fruit and Veggie store, but also in the big name grocery chains. They are so interesting in appearance, mysterious and strange, the exotic black-speckled white interior conjures up images of hot rippling-muscled men in Speedos (why? I’m not quite sure…must be all the pot fumes drifting out the windows of my neighbours) What could this oddity possibly taste like? Sweet and sexy? Bitter and bad-ass? Tangy and tumescent? Who knows?... at close to five f**king bucks a fruit, I wasn’t about to find out. That is, until this week. Whilst sashaying through the store, my 1970s-style high-thigh short-shorts exposing just a glimpse of underwear (OK, walking through the store in baggy-style shorts…but the image just ain’t the same!!!), I noticed one of these magnificent beauties sitting on the quick-sale rack at the incredible low price of one buck. And, no, I wasn’t at Dollarama! So, naturally, I hopped on that baby quicker than Richard Simmons would have hopped on me had I actually been wearing those thigh-high short-shorts. When I got home, I was all eager and agog, shaking with the pre-taste jitters…I sliced into the pink exterior, exposing its white pulp, cut out a piece, and slipped it ever so anxiously into my mouth…What did it taste like? Well, let me tell you…absolutely nothing!!!! I have never tasted anything that had absolutely no taste whatsoever!!! And they have the nerve to sell this sucker for $5 a pop. F**k you, people!!!! You can take your Dragon Fruit and fly away with it!!! And to think that PC often sells their fabulous chips at 3 bags for $5 (each one with an International flavour all their own). Guess I know where I’ll be spending that extra five dollars from now on.

In short: Dragon Fruit = Some People Will Buy Anything.

D'Oh! Stupid Pot

I decided to google the pot laws in case it is still illegal to smoke it in the privacy of your own home. Turns out it is. Now I know.

Funny story, I googled several articles on pot laws in Canada, and then suddenly my work computer crashed with a virus. So I had no computer at work for the entire afternoon and who knows how long it will take tomorrow before the IT guy comes 'round to fix it.

Moral of the story: Pot is bad for one's productivity.

In other pot news, FF's mother sent him some money. As he was heading out tonight he said "I've got $25 in my pocket", which translates to "I'll have pot in my trouser cuff when I get home."

Dave's not here, man.

Born on the Bayou

On Monday we were watching MasterChef. There was a contestant from the Bayou who had prepared an alligator dish for the judges. One of the judges had never tasted alligator so he asked which other meat did it most closely resemble.

The answer. Toad.

LOL

Yesterday

I got home last night, and the living room windows were open so I could enjoy the pot smell whilst still on the front porch.

I went in and found FF sitting in the living room, eating something, and watching Everybody Hates Chris* on the laptop. I asked "So what did you do today?" FF replied: "You're looking at it."

So I went to a movie with Smoothie. We saw the Jay Baruchel movie that was filmed just off Sherbrooke Street. It is not good, but it has lots of cute cats in it, which was enough to salvage it for me, but not for Smoothie who is still complaining about it today. He left a long rant on IMDB about everything that is wrong with it. I say, chill, dude, it's just a movie.


*That show is really funny. I'll have to watch more episodes.

In "Weed" News

To follow up on the Pringles story...

When I got home last night, FF was asleep on the couch and the house smelt like pot. He drowsily said, I was waiting for you so we could decide on supper.

We decided on Chalet. Of course! (An aside on the delivery vehicle from Chalet. It made so much noise, I am certain every neighbour must've looked out their windows to see who the hell it was. It looked like it delivered chicken on weeknights and participated in demolition derbys on weekends. Not pretty. And was driven by the third runner-up in the NDG David Crosby Look-alike Contest. Again, not pretty.)

Anyway, we ate our 1/4 breasts of chicken and then FF decided he would have his 3rd joint of the day. He said: "This may be inappropriate, but do you want to join me?" I shrugged. He said, "No, you are probably just a weekend toker."

Try to picture how hard I laughed at the idea of myself as a "toker" of any kind, weekend or weekday or 24/7. Nanuk and toker don't really go in the same sentence.

So he rolled his joint, and I had two ineffectual puffs. So much for that. Then he said he was not at all worried about me becoming a habitual user because once he is gone, there is no way in hell I'm going to find myself a dealer. Finally, he is right about something. The only scenario more ridiculous than "Nanuk the toker" is "Nanuk and her dealer."

After his Chalet meal, he had a beer, then two oranges, one Twizzler (I held on tight to the bag), then another beer, then the rest of the olive bread, then a cheese sandwich. Then he went to bed. I guess that's the munchies.

Now...how do I get rid of this guy?

The last straw?

Pringles are on sale for 99 cents this week. On Sunday, unable to resist, I bought a can of SC&O.

SC&O are not only my favourite flavour, they are also FF's favourite. When he came home, his eyes lit up. "Pringles!" he chirped happily. In an effort to keep him away from them, he insisted that I dole out a few to him rather than let him take them out of the can. Which I did. All fine and good, and under control.

On Monday I got home from work, I looked in the cupboard and no Pringles were to be seen. I looked in the trash and there was my beloved green SC&O can. "I am going to KILL you", I said, walking toward him making a choking gesture. "Why?" he asked. There was a short pause, while I stared accusingly at him. "Oh, the Pringles" he said sheepishly. "I started eating them and then suddenly it was like oh shit they're all gone. Sorry."

He's got until Wednesday close of business to replace them at 99 cents. Otherwise, he'll be replacing them at $1.49.

Men!

What is it with men and their wieners? I'm referring specifically to the New York Congressman (named Weiner) who has admitted tweeting pictures of his weenie to several women. He's a Congressman, and he doesn't have the self control to NOT send pictures of his wang to strangers?

I will never understand the male brain.

On the positive front, I am unaware of Jacques Parizeau ever tweeting pics of his Johnson. So things could always get worse.

By Jove

From the Globe & Mail:
"Three influential members of the Parti Québécois have abruptly quit the sovereigntist party, saying it has lost its way. The bombshell announcement includes the wife of the party's most popular living legend;..." They are taking about Parizeau's wife here.

The party's most popular living legend? Says who? When has Blaque Jacques ever been anything other than a pompous old windbag?

And how was your weekend?

I don't want to say that we are turning into a stoner household, but on Saturday morning, after our bacon and eggs, FF asked if it was okay if he smoked. I said, sure, then joined him. Yep. Smoking pot at 10:30 on Saturday morning. I blame it all on my employer. If I wasn't so miserable at work, I wouldn't be looking for such an escape on the weekend. Right? I said, amiright?

On Saturday afternoon, he asked if he could smoke again, this time outside. I said sure. He said your CPN's are outside. I said: all the better. If they can smell it and it bugs them, it's a Win. So we sat out in the backyard, reading our books, and passing a joint back and forth. I still cannot smoke it right. Such a nerd. FF approaches Depp-like levels of coolness in his actions, while I cough and mutter that I'm not feeling anything. I keep thinking my nose is going to catch fire.

At 7:00 last night we were lying in the living room, drinking beer, smoking pot* and watching The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. Great movie.

I love being 50.

*Clarification: FF was enjoying pot while I once again attempted to smoke and failed miserably at it. What am I missing? I'm apparently doing it right, but I'm not feeling anything, except being very tired and lethargic and lying on the couch enjoying Eli Wallach. Is that it? Is that all there is to it? Seems like much ado about nothing.

In Fatty News

Last night I was planting geraniums and pulling weeds. I felt winded and had a fair amount of trouble getting up and down from the grass. I was really tired after just an hour. True, it was humid, but still. That is no excuse.

This is how fat I have gotten. I'm too fat to garden. My roly-poly belly is cutting off my breathing. Is this finally the moment of truth? Is this at last the time to say enough of this weight problem?

Yes. Just as soon as I have a bag of those Ranch Chipotle chips. Once I'm done with those, I'll be seriously dieting. Seriously.