Rodney!

Saw something funny that I bought for Bron's sister - it's a puppet called Rodney the Reindeer and he "hums" for the holidays. He has three songs that he hums and you can control the speed at which he hums them by manipulating his mouth faster or slower. It's hilarious!! I bought it at Hallmark. Bron loves it too. Simply for the purpose of stealing it from his own kin to make music.

Blow me a river

When people blow things out of their mouth or nose now in the age of Purell and germ awareness, I can't help but actually make a dirty face at them when they do so. I'm actually personally offended by it. I saw a woman this morning cough into her hand, NOT on her sleeve. It's just not right. The posters TELL you how to do it. Heed the posters!

In other news, a terribly personal fax about something terribly unmentionable was sent to my place of work yesterday from a doctor's office. When I called them to tell them they sent it to the wrong number, they didn't even seem to care. Wow.

Nova vomit

How come when you have to sign in to make a comment on someone else's blog there is a tiny handicapped wheelchair next to the box where you type that fucked up text? Whatev.

So last week I had the most monumentally shitty lunch (and it wasn't me who made it.) I was too mad, I couldn't have written about it that day. I went to Nova Era bakery. I was in the area, at my favourite of all favourites, Strictly Bulk, getting the staples: pumpkin seeds, almond milk, chocolate covered jujubes (shut up they're good.) Then I go, oh Nick once said Nova Era had good sandwiches. I will go there now and get one. MISS TAKE.

I sidle up to the lunch counter. I see they have soups. I see they have sandwiches. I ask the lunchman, a husky version of Martin Starr, if they have a soup and sandwich special. He says no. I ask him how much a soup and sandwich will cost. He goes away for a while, then tells me. Around $7 something. I say ok, I want the tuna and the soup of the day--something I had never heard of, but was willing to try: kidney bean and collards. (Last time I checked, they were called collard GREENS, but again, whatev.)

So I said I wanted the tuna, right? He asks me if I want mayonnaise. I, of COURSE, thought he meant in addition to the mayo already mixed with the tuna. I mean, is there any other way? So, no, I didn't want any mayo because in addition to the mayo already comprising the tuna for the filling of the tuna sandwich, this would simply be too much mayo.

But no sooner had I said NO to the maYO, I noticed he was busy at work can openering a can of NO NAME tuna in order to make my "sandwich." It was from this moment forward I knew I was doomed. Not only did he honest to god think I wanted a mayo-less tuna sandwich, but he also thought this concept actually existed. I'm sorry everyone out there, but IT DOESN'T. No where does a tuna sandwich exist that has no mayo on it. Try as you may to find out. There ain't one.

So he empties the can of DRY FISH into a bowl. He then grabs some shitty tiny bun from the back of the place. I have no idea where this bun came from or why it wasn't out front, nicely displayed, telling me, "look, this is what your sandwich will be made on." But not only this: again, last time I checked, most sandwich places give you an option of the bread or bun you get, or else they generally have white or whole wheat bread. I just think this dude had no idea what the fuck he was doing.

He squishes the still dry fish into the shitty tiny bun. He then puts the top on the sandwich. Follow me people: he has just used a small crappy bun, placed some crumbles of dry tuna fish on it, and has replaced the top portion of my sandwich. I then look up at the sandwich board. Oh, stupid RETARDED me, lettuce OR tomatoes OR cucumbers is an extra 25 cents PER item. By now I'm fuming. "Can I get some lettuce on that, please?!"

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I'm not even going to touch on the soup. Let's just say the kidney bean and collard soup was POTATO based, had about 11 strands of collards in it and was lukewarm.

As I sat in this confusing shithole bakery (that shouldn't even HAVE a lunch counter), seething, and eating my frigging "lunch," I remembered that I had to pay almost $8 for this disappointment.

I am NEVER GOING THERE AGAIN. I KNOW it was only $8, but the experience overall shaved years off my life. And faith in food in general.

Nova Era, you're dead to me.

Happy Roseanne to all!

Happy Versa-annary to KZ and her chum (French word for boyfrien) - tree year! A hearty congrats. Can't wait to finally watch some Ralphy with them next week and indulge in some homemade pizza. Christmas coloured and all!

So tonight I'm indulging myself in glass of white wine--organic, I might add, compliments of Bron's mom--and a little Roseanne. Friggin love this show. I now have seasons 3, 4 and 5. On sale for a stupendous price right now at HMV I might add.

Two of my top fave Roseanne quotations of all time:

"I've never been to an outdoor wedding where everyone was wearing clothes." -Nancy

"People will eat cotton in a supermarket as long as there's a toothpick in it." -Roseanne

Thank you, winter

My morning commute consisted of a steamy hot bus full of sopping wet people that smelled like Doritos.

Word to the wise: Do not freely handle/grope/flip your hair when riding transit. No, I don't want your hair touching my skin or any part of my person. I especially don't want it to graze my hand when I'm holding on for dear life to the stupid already germ-infested transit poles. Put the hair away when riding transit.

Grrr is the word

Today at work was the day from heeeeellllll. Brutal out-of-town board meeting my colleague and I had to be on-call for, teleconference line that was wrongly DELETED by Bell (thanks a LOT, Bell, you just lost our biznass), dadaladalada - you do the math. By day's end, so many of our hairs had turned grey and fallen out all over the floor... needless to say, things were 'hairy' (ha, good one, if I do say so myself).

Then, I just happened to place a call to someone who needed an important e-mail address, and got her answering machine. So, the office whip I am, I left her a message. When I was spelling out the e-mail address (we all know much c's sound like b's or e's or d's or g's on the phone)(you get the picture) I had to append some words to some of the letters. My monologue went a little something like this (e-mail address has been changed for privacy):

"The e-mail address is motherlandd@agr.com. So that's motherland, with a D at the end, D as in dog, at A, G as in (insert hesitational moment of "Do I say GOD?" but NO I instead say) Grrr."

G as in GRRRR? Where the FUCK did I come up with that? Two seconds after getting off the phone my colleague is turning red and crylaughing. Then I hear another colleague down the hall call out "Grrrrr!" in a rather gruff voice. Can all my coworkers hear my (embarrassing)(although hilarious) phone calls all the time? Then my colleague exclaims, "I really needed that. That was great!"

So, after all was said and done, I guess I made someone's day. All it takes is me making up nonsensical sounds at work in order to clearly articulate an e-mail address containing every 'eee' sounding consonant in order to bring a smile to the faces of those around me. To that I say, S as in Ssssss (like the noise of a snake), "Sweet."

McBride's 2009 Gift Guide

You know you waaaaaaant it.