Thursday, May 18, 2006

Ra ra rant

So, my period shall be here any moment now, so I am a tad on the emotional rollercoaster side. I was the epitomy of crawling out of my skin the other day. Really wanted to kill people. Darling husband stood out of the way and only appeared with copious amounts of wine and chocolate. They were probably spiked with horse tranquilizers. Yum.
Anyhow, I need to get something off my chest. Dooce. She is the professional blogger whose stuff introduced me to the world of blog and of those who do this as a full time profession. It was infatuation with first sentence. Crazy love for her. However, I have e-mailed her a few times and said hey, you're cool. I like your blog so much I have been inspired to write my own. And you know what? Yeah, she never wrote back. Not even a respond with a "Hi, stop stalking me." And apparently now she doesn't like Crocs. Well, I am sorry if they aren't Jimmy Choos, but they are damn comfy and the colours are super cute and if they are not the perfect gardening/beach shoes, then I don't know what are. They are Jellies for grown ups...

Where is the damn chocolate? Freakin' demon uterus.

Ooh lala, I am a beret

Your Hat Personality Is A


Friday, April 28, 2006

Google me!

I am on Google! YEAH! Praise the mysterious wonders of the universe for performing miracles upon miracles and getting the KMAD into Google. Let's see what different random things you can Google to get here!

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Da Da Da Daa Daa Da Da Da

My title would be Morse code for SOS. Thought maybe it would need an interpretation.
I am having a helluva time figuring out how to get myself some fame. Google better reckonize.
Anyone anyone anyone (speaking to you Karen S) can get this blog onto the Google or any other search engine I would be much obliged. Funny enough, when I am at the home page for me to publish on the site, they have a search engine for Blogspot. Yeah, I don't even show up there. So, WTF? Somebody put a link to my blog. The Google-ites say that will help. That's it for now. I'm sleepy and I need my beauty sleep so I can observe high school biology classes tomorrow. YEAH!

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Miss Chubby USA

Miss USA was on TV the other night. American Ali and I came up with an idea for the beauty contest for the rest of us...Miss Chubby USA. She awarded herself the coveted crown of "Miss Cankles Assflap" and I crowned myself "Miss Cottage Cheese Thighs Breastflap."
Let's take a look at the horrendous pictures they took of the real Miss USA contestants and then had the audacity to post them on their website. There are a few themes...
The Uncomfortable Boob-Squeeze Shot

The Tranny LookOh yeah, and West Virginia. Oh dear Lord West Virginia...

It looks like Donald Trump himself designed all the outfits (he owns the Miss USA/Miss Universe operation). It's like her boobs are two giant eyeballs playing a staring match with me. And I'm losing!

This goes out to Chelsea

So Sports Fans...Apparently I haven't updated in a month and my adoring fans have missed me. so much in fact Chelsea has e-mailed me basically saying I provide a much-needed service to the over-stressed university students out there. So Chelsea, this one's for you.
During my class tonight with other fellow Masters students, insteading of discussing the merits and pitfalls to the increasing use of technology in the classroom, we discussed our vomiting practices in college (that's university in Canadian). Here are a few things that remind me of college and alcohol and vomit:
1. The first time I met this guy American Ali was dating we went to our friends' frat party. As I was a youngun still unaware of my limits (don't think anything has changed), I got a wee bit intoxicated. This guy of Ali's was driving all of us back to her dorm and I knew I was gonna hurl. I kept having to tell him to pull over because I didn't want to puke in some guy's car who I just met and would most likely have to see again. Except the first time I asked him to pull over, it was just a false alarm. Which would be fine except it took quite a few times pulling over before I actually managed to do my job. This story would still make American Ali laugh if the guy she had dated didn't turn out to be such a douchebag.

2. Before I met the handsome prof, my friend Jen and I hung out with a group of guys a bit older than us. They didn't go to school or really do all too much, but they were kind of cute and more importantly knew all the bouncers and bartenders in town. As we were 18 at the time, this is GOLD! (Drinking age in States is 21). Our friend Tim worked at a place called Cluck U. Clever, huh? There was a wing eating contest. Apparently if you ate enough wings, you won some award or a pat on the back. The award didn't really matter. What mattered was eating a lot of wings. So one night (fortunately I wasn't there, so this is all heresay), Dan decides to win the wing contest. He keeps eating, and being the man that he is, drinking. He apparently reaches his limit and vomits right there on the table on his wings. In order to win the contest, he had to eat the rest of the wings. Dan picks up a vomit covered wing, shows it ceremoniously to the table, and gobbles it down. None of us really wanted to make out with him after that.

3. While I probably shouldn't tell this story because my parents might get upset, neither my brother or myself live in their house anymore so we can't be grounded...I think. When I was in college, Jon-Jon was still in high school. As my parents LOVE to travel, they would ask me to watch the house and supervise Jon when they went away. Jon and I knew this was a fantastic set up. Usually my roommate Susy would come too. She was a blast. Anyhow, being the cool gal that I am, I would allow my brother to have a party, as long as he did all the cleaning, bought all the booze, no one had sex in the bed I had to sleep in, and no one drove anywhere. One of his friends, don't know the kid's name, was a hyper little thing. He was sitting at the kitchen table with me, Susy, and a few other random friends playing UNO. All of sudden I see Susy gasp and the kid jump up from the table and run away. Apparently this kid vomited on the table, put his cards over it and ran away to the bathroom. As Susy was sitting next to him, she saw the whole sordid event. After the kid cleaned himself up, he came back out, cranked some Kenny Rogers' The Gambler and claimed it as his song for the summer. How could you not love a kid like that?

Ahhh vomiting. And college. Seems like the two go hand in hand. So Chelsea, although I am sure this is not my best work and I hope you don't get squeamish easily, but this collection of short stories is dedicated to you. My first fan who is not my friend who I force and threaten to read this. Now you better comment, biatch!! I promise more to come after next week when my classes are OVER!!!!!!!! I am leaving you with a picture of Tori Spelling because for some reason I thought of her when I thought of spewing chunks. Hmm...