tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16660651989791401912024-03-12T16:25:05.325-07:00Snob's Cataloguetips & tricks for followersJuleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-56218098855486123602012-03-26T21:34:00.005-07:002012-03-26T22:07:37.443-07:00Unseasonable styles cause riots<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpCsjWrl01RqbhF44FJmz2QG_VeLJnGokV4rbwI7jzMSIXzjz6vUEqlX3XAtO8aICy35OG6NP4UQFgXwuHz4Erl7GDUoinlKwKCUlyzrnQVK95gzbk2lrw2VFj443e-jzK1Cw2qQfF96K/s1600/Pinup+Couture+Heidi+dress.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpCsjWrl01RqbhF44FJmz2QG_VeLJnGokV4rbwI7jzMSIXzjz6vUEqlX3XAtO8aICy35OG6NP4UQFgXwuHz4Erl7GDUoinlKwKCUlyzrnQVK95gzbk2lrw2VFj443e-jzK1Cw2qQfF96K/s320/Pinup+Couture+Heidi+dress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724430854914222450" border="0" /></a> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">March heat wave “a real panty peeler,” says Ma Nature</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. You can spot a trendslut by the oodles of flesh s/he exposes as soon as it hits above 10 degrees. Step out of a cold, lonely, Winter into a Spring of sizzling desperation, starring short shorts paired with army boots, flip flops and peacoats, and scarves doubling as shawls after sundown.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Baseball hats with the ‘stickers of authenticity’ left on them is akin to me leaving the labels on my new Pinup Couture dress. If it’s some kind of status symbol to show the world I’m a size M, I’ll strut the fuck out of it on the runways of my mind. And you, kid, will limp behind me, rocking the ‘Not-A-Knockoff!’ urban accessorreezz line.*</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. *The Design Snob regrets that hoodies will NOT be part of Not-A-Knockoff’s Spring collection. It’s recently come to My attention, care of TV genius Geraldo Rivera, that only hooligans wear hoodies.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Here’s a recipe for shenanigans: St. Paddy’s Day + Saturday night + Students + London, Ont. + Vodka Red Bulls + the fair-skinned, dark-haired, blue-eyed, beauty in a teeny tanktop, kilt, and knee socks who snapped the minds of 1000 virgin boys by belting <i>Sunday Bloody Sunday</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> at karaoke earlier that night.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. We’re in Dora Keogh on the Danforth. Inspired by the New Orleans funk music, a man frantically, yet artfully, dance-humps unsuspecting patrons and openly enjoys a quickie with my knee. But he’s not my favourite. No, <i>that</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> prize goes to the plump exhibitionista who is now dancing on the bar. The view up her dress would have thrilled the otherwise unflappable Irish bartenders were it not for the fact that she splattered all three of them when she fell down from there.<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. A girl wearing a royal blue mircoskirt should not<i> also</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> sport an oatmeal granny sweater in the hope that the sweater will cover the portion of ass left exposed by the skirt. Two extreme wrongs NEVER make a right. Oops, and THEN – said girl should avoid dropping her iphone on the Dundas West bus platform (her hands were greasy due to just-purchased midnight McDonald’s) and bend alllll the way over to pick it up while I’m in the middle of writing about that very ass.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Another observation on the platform: If the back pockets of your jeans are so ripped that your used car salesman business cards are spilling outta there, it’s time for a career AND fashion makeover!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Then again, don’t be the weirdo blogger staring at everyone’s ass and manically scribbling in a Moleskine journal. Like, get off the adrenochrome, Hunter S.!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. On the #40 bus: Please also avoid being a 45-year old hippie/MDMA fiend/reclaimed subway cushion vendor from the Junction who presumes he’s manufactured enough kookiness to wear a fanny pack in front of me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. Now at home: It’s probably disrespectful to the neighbours to blast Dolly Parton and have a masturbatory fashion show involving one's mirror, John Fluevogs, and aforementioned Pinup Couture dress with labels still proudly dangling, dorkface!</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-5748209775879214882012-03-25T14:59:00.003-07:002012-03-25T15:02:08.129-07:00The Toronto Manifesto: All You Need is Love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUizWLEAkUXEAJ01BF1OcDiHzJHCFqa5mkuP7sshtcIGqWkKQUhCeYBKs7Va-amSo6NJnFkZmeyFqR5u3K6Y4cS2GXw5rqEfkIp8ygQgIdSRi5Kzu17W3OUIRtmSEyHrZ0ZLRvMlJhQ2D_/s1600/Toronto+skyline"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUizWLEAkUXEAJ01BF1OcDiHzJHCFqa5mkuP7sshtcIGqWkKQUhCeYBKs7Va-amSo6NJnFkZmeyFqR5u3K6Y4cS2GXw5rqEfkIp8ygQgIdSRi5Kzu17W3OUIRtmSEyHrZ0ZLRvMlJhQ2D_/s320/Toronto+skyline" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5723957845696963602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. I love that all the judgeybears who hate this city don’t live here. I’m grateful that they’re in charge of all the pocket towns that white Torontonians drive through in summertime. Thank you for your lakes, galleries, flea markets, cheap bistros, parks, little theatres, and ‘ye olde’ shoppes. On behalf of our wallets, you’re welcome!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. To friends living in utilitarian communities – the names of which we can’t think of right now…or even locate on a map – <i>sorry!</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > – you’ve had your minute with the conch and what we’re hearing is that you hate us. We appreciate this open communication. It can’t be easy toiling in a one-trick town, running factories or drills, your only pleasure being visits to Costco. Going forward, let’s compromise: you come visit us for the first time in your life and we’ll… – we’ll let you.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. While you’re visiting this superior place, you might feel a little xenophobic at first. That’s normal. Toronto is used to blowing small minds with its cultural diversity. Observe your fears, then let them float by like clouds. After all, jealousy does not inspire enlightenment.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. I talked to the gunman who made headlines. I convinced him to turn himself in to police. I also helped him write the following statement for the media: “On behalf of all Scarborough residents, I am deeply sorry to the good people of Toronto. I didn’t intend to sully your national reputation through my malevolent act of violence.”</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. After extensive surveys of the city’s popular nightlife areas, I’ve concluded that drinking establishments are largely frequented by people living outside of Toronto. Please, as our <i>very special</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > guests, </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>do</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > continue to enjoy yourselves here! Your visits inspire us to find new neighbourhoods to party in, until we’re ferreted out again. It’s like a neverending game of hide and seek, and you’re always ‘it’! Fun!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. You once criticized Toronto because of its homelessness problem. Ten bucks says you were walking in the theatre district on a Saturday evening and you felt intimidated by the slew of panhandlers you passed? Panhandlers, who aren’t necessarily homeless, congregate in areas where tourists will be, which can make the problem look worse than it is. And frankly, the fact that people live on Toronto’s streets might have to do with the fact that there’s a lack of social services in the towns they’re originally from. And we have purer crack than all y'all.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Or perhaps you were walking in the financial district, and were intimidated by the people in suits because you can only dream of having that much money. That’s OK Sudbury, we’ll give you some. Cause we love to share. And you know what – here’s some extra cash, from my own little stash, that I want you to give to the lovely employees at your CRA tax office. Thank you all <i>so much</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > for everything you’ve done for me. Great work, guys!!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. You say it’s expensive to own spacious property here…that’s generally true. Yeah, maybe you HAVE solved the riddle by buying a big, cheap, house in...Orangeville, is it? (Doesn’t sound like a real place, but whatever you say, bud). Now you can be first in line at all the world-class cultural events like the…uh…well I guess there’s the annual maple syrup festival. And you can get sauced on Coors Light at the shack-sized beer tent and drive home in your SUV with your kids in the back.</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-47164472707056042232012-01-27T11:20:00.000-08:002012-01-27T11:27:46.796-08:00Reasons Why Men Are Fucks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtUzznxKp76eoomQ-J-qlTeIDr5twA2GnNn-UzzjE9ctkYYXKdlxUeR94uWM_9wZcMdfQN8So-oO64NiS4m1ezWMrA2rIs3A1fE62Hb1UWUfCGFTrK_ng5EuRN_8ODUfyYkM4rKMmtkOd/s1600/Devil.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtUzznxKp76eoomQ-J-qlTeIDr5twA2GnNn-UzzjE9ctkYYXKdlxUeR94uWM_9wZcMdfQN8So-oO64NiS4m1ezWMrA2rIs3A1fE62Hb1UWUfCGFTrK_ng5EuRN_8ODUfyYkM4rKMmtkOd/s320/Devil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702394480021149778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. You’d rather back out of the room smiling than tell a woman how you really feel. Are you afraid of making her cry? If she does, will her tears melt your flesh like sulfuric acid? (Sounds neat!)</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Like peacocks that can’t fly, your confidence doesn’t reflect your competence.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. At your core, you just need Mother to tell you you’re a good boy. Your penis is big and it’s OK if you want to play with it…Just not in public. Well...okay, but only on special occasions…like Pride week.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Look! Good Boy made dinner one time! What a magical feat! Let’s rent a plane and praise him in sky-writing. Seriously, most of you are just black holes that suck attention from the universe through your urethras.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. You use testosterone as an excuse for everything shitty.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. You think your brain is wired to successfully program my universal remote and fix my Mac. KEEP YER DIRTY PAWS OFF ‘EM! I wouldn’t presume to poke around under the hood of your car, just because “I’m pretty good at fixin’ stuff.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. …And while it’s nice that one or two of you have cars, reflect on how dickbaggy it is to ban your passengers from touching the radio. And how precious you are about how gently passengers close the door. And how obsessive you are about carwashes in wintertime. Think about that next time you call me a princess for polishing the salt off my John Fluevog boots!<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. There’s no mirrors in Boyland? You expect your woman to wax her entire body every day, but you can’t trim the nose hair that gets in her mouth when you french?<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. In groups, you transform into beer-guzzling monsters who heckle pedestrians and pick fights at clubs. But individually, you’re a bashful bunny with cute widdle whiskers!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. …that said, no-one wants you to grow a moustache. It’s heartbreaking that modern males feel compelled to grow facial hair just to prove they can, like an annual check-in to confirm they’re still male.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">11. You get up to <i>dark</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > mischief. You puke blood in strip club toilets, kill kittens, and fuck teenage sex slaves in Thailand. Every one of you has an evil blip in your past that might be cured with therapy if you didn’t think talking was ‘pussy’.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">12. You hate using condoms more than you hate unplanned pregnancies and STIs combined. This is incongruous.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">13. When riding public transit, is it mandatory that you sit with your legs spread so wide that you invade the personal space of other passengers? I know what you’re doing. You’re puffing up to warn crackheads that your balls are too huge to be approached.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">14. If I hear another one of you praise lion prides, I’ll stab my eardrums. “Lions got it right, man. Cause the king gets to sleep in the shade all day, eats first, and has a harem of females to hump.” But you’re skimming over some important details: the females only keep the alpha around to act as a security guard and seed-source. And don’t ignore the lonely beta males who wander around until they starve. Only 1% of you have the physical superiority to be king.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">15. Many of you are homophobic. This is because you know Kinsey was right: we’re all partly gay. It frightens you how much you yearn for anal sex. And cause you’re insanely jealous that your homosexual counterparts are more successful than you in every way.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">16. You’re an arrogant and opinionated chauvinist – a Colonel of Fuckattacktics. You will occasionally appear to listen to someone else speak – a methodical diversion – which lowers his/her defenses and leaves his/her mind open to assault.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">17. Some of you cushion yourselves from reality by being obsessed with sports. You’ve memorized fiddly details about teams and players but know jack shit about your own friends and family. You hide in front of the TV when there’s a game on to avoid real life…do you play World of Warcraft as well?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">18. So you ARE a gamer? I knew it! At least that’s <i>one thing</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > you can do for more than thirty seconds at a time.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">19. As children, you all have ADHD. You waste class time by shouting out the answers (which are wrong), you grab my braid-ends and use them as paintbrushes, you get lost on the way to the story carpet, you squiggle underfoot like a coked up breakdancer. Y’all don’t learn to sit still until you’re in your sixties.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">20. Today’s males measure bravery through their mastery of extreme sports or <i>Jackass</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > tricks. But when asked to risk your heart, you only go so far as smoking and eating fatty foods. You pee your pants at the sight of blood and snakes, and you’re certainly not brave enough to defend your country. Real masculinity died when your grandfather did.</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-77132881744575451102012-01-23T10:41:00.001-08:002012-01-23T10:57:18.505-08:00Reasons Why Women Are Stupid<span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. You’re cleverer than most men, but you refuse to believe it. You squander your power through modest silence and self-hatred. There goes your advantage, dumbette.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Because at one point or another, you giggled when some bestial male made a comment about your tits. If a man spoke about another man’s tits that way, he’d get punched in the nose.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Because you used your communication skills to diffuse your own desire to punch someone in the nose, even though the fucker deserved a good nose bleed.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBdIuIrLcCtBqNqArxuB8yAK9JBpIOZD1lVxE0_ZjxFGq6Du1EKxUPaLRVWFL97q5-P8iiaXY1UiKjAH7eFST1ic5135YfDGEenwN8pSjZwwWf10V4zphlsfs2djurf91GtGtz0uR_nNGF/s1600/Women+can+do+it.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBdIuIrLcCtBqNqArxuB8yAK9JBpIOZD1lVxE0_ZjxFGq6Du1EKxUPaLRVWFL97q5-P8iiaXY1UiKjAH7eFST1ic5135YfDGEenwN8pSjZwwWf10V4zphlsfs2djurf91GtGtz0uR_nNGF/s320/Women+can+do+it.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700903183536548690" border="0" /></a></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. …but really, you just didn’t want to break a nail over another titty comment. They cost you a lot, tits and nails.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. You downplay your ‘feminine interests’ because cooking and baby-making aren’t valued by the 30-something Peter Pans you covet and you know very well voicing these interests will ALSO halt your corporate climb.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. For some reason, you’re afraid to be alone. You need your hand held throughout every decision you make. Is it because you require constant approval and validation or because, when your decisions don’t result in the desired outcome, you have someone’s ‘bad advice’ to scapegoat?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. "Shopping is the opium of the people" – Karl Marx.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. You decidedly ‘aren’t a feminist’. Because to you, feminism means bra burning and butch lesbianism. And you couldn’t possibly live without your cup-increasing water bra…or expand your heterosexist views of love, could you sweetie?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. You think gender equality exists. Whahahahahaha!<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">10. You pretend to be submissive when really you’re dominant. So nothing ever gets done right. But this gives you something to pout about, which you secretly cherish because pouting is easier than trying, isn’t that right ya lazy coward?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">11. Oh god. Or maybe you’re one of those girls who manipulates everyone until she gets her way. Girls like you ruin perfectly good men for the rest of us.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">12. You talk so much, but say so little. You’re like the women of <i>The View</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > in a cage match with </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>The Talk</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" >. Bullshit overload!! MUTE BUTTON!!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">13. You might be able to watch TV, do laundry, disinfect the toilet, and text-console your BFF while reading an <i>US Weekly</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" >. You’re great at multi-tasking – like an octopus treading water in a shark tank, still too distracted to replenish her ink.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">14. Your worst fear is being called a ‘bitch’. So you smile and say yes until you finally have a breakdown during menopause.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">15. The term ‘whore’ makes your legs lock together. But why become paralyzed with fear? I say, anyone who judges you for being sexually liberated doesn’t deserve the privilege of playing in your bed. If this reasoning doesn’t calm you, here’s one you’ll respond to: Shame and confliction make you look 10 pounds lighter!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" > </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style="font-size:100%;">16. Oh and then the ‘C word’. CUNT makes you shudder, obviously, because its etymology traces back to the words goddess, priestess, and queen. And those are soooooo yucky, riiight?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">17. You allotted 20 minutes in the morning towards the fiddly application of tarantula mascara rather than extra sleep…</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">18. …all because you wanted to look pretty at the gym.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">19. You dreamed of being a princess, or a bride, or a princess bride. But is there any personality under the tiara? Any abilities other than being a skinny vehicle for show tunes and flower bouquets? *</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Ans: Unicorn jockey!<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">20. Quit blaming the media for your shitty body image. Let’s hear you whine about celebrity culture and Photoshop once you’ve been maimed in an accident. Or maybe a little aneurism would dislodge your confidence block?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">21. You think that being a woman means you’re naturally nurturing. And that’s why you’re trying to heal the broken man. “But all you need is love, like that song says,” you rationalize to your girlfriends over brunch. They smile and nod. Except for the one who reminds you of Miranda…she points out your shitty self esteem and low standards. Then you shun her for a month.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">22. Nothing inspires your deepest cruelty as much as other women. You’re competitive and petty because you’re jealous that she might be happier than you. And maybe she is, from time to time. We don’t all have to be on the same side but let’s try to act with respect and dignity, OK ya dumb whore?</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-81427181219622981322012-01-11T10:27:00.000-08:002012-01-11T10:34:39.435-08:00How to be a Secret Alcoholic<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJo4Ynwe08y-w51Gv1G4DZBaVlFc_e-ZyL-6KWkjJyV75fEdHQbSUFb5n0Un6qaHXaaYlpjf_DS75JDSq6IHrZMQ-wY_w0BFdYhcXOJepGit6L-Yhm2KjgSxvFl_RgPoly-Z2JiY50YVC/s1600/XXXtina.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJo4Ynwe08y-w51Gv1G4DZBaVlFc_e-ZyL-6KWkjJyV75fEdHQbSUFb5n0Un6qaHXaaYlpjf_DS75JDSq6IHrZMQ-wY_w0BFdYhcXOJepGit6L-Yhm2KjgSxvFl_RgPoly-Z2JiY50YVC/s320/XXXtina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696443065447021282" border="0" /></a><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. Clear liquors are your best friend. A tumbler-full can be mistaken for water. And when mixed with pop or juice, you can add a single shot like a SmartServed lily-liver OR pour yourself a handsome quad.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. “But Guinness is actually a <i>health drink</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" >. A </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>meal replacement</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>beverage</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" >. The 0.3% iron content will supplement a diet consisting of many other beers,” he defended cleverly.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. “Tonic, as its name suggests, is medicinal. It contains malaria-busting quinine. The gin is added to disinfect your innards,” she said, proudly educating her friends.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Booze is your companion in sorrow and celebration. So there’s great reasons to take advantage of it every day! Note that I said <i>take advantage</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" >, not </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>abuse</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" >.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. …Which brings me to a very important point: utilize the power of language to manage your public image. You’re not “drunk” (how ugly!). No, you’re “merry.” You’re not “sloshed” you’re “flushed” (certainly there’s nothing wrong with a little blush in a lady’s cheeks?) You “imbibe” on weekends and “appreciate the nose” of wines.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. When out with friends, order your drinks from the bartender instead of the server at the table. That way, your 8 beers aren’t tabulated on the group’s bill. Your over-consumption will remain between you and the bartender (who won’t judge, seeing as he’s probably also a booze-blood.)</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Eight beers are best hidden by drinking from bottles. This way, the repeatedly low liquid level is hard for others to see. Sticking to the same brand will also trick people into thinking that the seventh is still your second.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Drink water. It makes you appear ultra responsible. And might actually help you not puke up the $150 you spent at the bar.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Eat food. It makes you seem rounded, like you’re not just in the market to drink. No, see, you’re <i>pairing</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > the cognac with cheese & crustinis, and that’s a super </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>classy</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > way to get “cheerful” AND “voluptuous.”<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">10. In conclusion, intoxication is a mind-set. If you turn into a violent, weepy, or stumbly monster, you’re failing the game. Painting the mirage of responsibility and joyousness is almost equal to </span><i style="font-family: arial;">actually being </i><span style="font-family: arial;">responsible and joyous -- at least -- in the eyes of a society that pickles its populace.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-53720956330173936832011-12-06T09:25:00.000-08:002012-01-11T10:27:19.489-08:00Snatcheriffic Fashion Fascism<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6iRMDAXdQqiTDS34H75N9meN-JWAPxfY_2ovDk6h7UIWS8OF5u5NvxplUaOYXdof3337GN8kaNnCpsW3XjQaJGy_4aDcA93s_JXNuyTwRRX305uryk0i3WFtVNLFLWcRYF0d3gf-Pt5Pz/s1600/ballet+warmers.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6iRMDAXdQqiTDS34H75N9meN-JWAPxfY_2ovDk6h7UIWS8OF5u5NvxplUaOYXdof3337GN8kaNnCpsW3XjQaJGy_4aDcA93s_JXNuyTwRRX305uryk0i3WFtVNLFLWcRYF0d3gf-Pt5Pz/s320/ballet+warmers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683068273098676274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. Thank god for leg warmers. How ELSE would we bridge the gap between the iconic 1980s TV series, ‘20 Minute Workout’, and modern bad taste?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Loving how you’re cinching your waist by wearing a belt over your cardigan. Creating a very flattering shape there. A very USELESS flattering shape. Like a rhombus or a dirhombicosidodecahedron.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Remember you’re not a real person unless you have a TNA bag and Bench hoodie. TRUE fashionistas are upping the ante this season by selling their NAMES as adspace. I am now known as ‘American Expressica,’ bitches!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Hey hipster, with your spoogey hair and pilling toque, you look like you’re straight off the set of The Beachcombers! (I know you don’t know what that is…CTV hasn’t produced the sexy modern re-make, yet).</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Spoogey hair – that reminds me. The Tintin look is over, Mister. PUT AWAY THE DIPPITY DO.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. Those Payless ballet flats are just as useless as blackened ski socks on a homeless man, cause it seems neither of you can afford real shoes.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Hey girl, what are you gonna be for Halloween? A fuzzy whore, Super Slut, winged ho, or immortal tramp? A period-era trollop?! Awesome! Lets get costumes at Seduction – I mean Malabar.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. It is a true trendsetter who tucks in his black Local Crew T-shirt into his brown-belted Levis. You clean up nice, Pops!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Your hat reminds me of Debbie Gibson, Joey from New Kids on the Block and Samantha Ronson all wrapped up in one. Maybe sometimes, I light candles and secretly kiss a poster of you hanging on my bedroom wall. Tee hee.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. I dig the leather vest! Either your rock & roll career peaked at Altamont in 1969 when the Hells Angels gang member stabbed that spectator OR you’re channeling Freddie Mercury, who rises from the grave to attend fetish parties every Pride weekend?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">11. I listen to music too, but your Bose professional-grade headphones are bigger than your face – and are kinda making me jealous – therefore they’re inappropriate to wear whilst drowning out valium-voiced etiquette announcements on the subway during your commute to your HMV job.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">12. I WOULD shave off my eyebrows and pencil them back in, higher and darker of course...but ya know what, NOT doing that saves me a step in the morning and leaves me with more time to bronze the fuck out of my cheekbones.</span></p> <span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-61545506577327270412011-11-25T09:22:00.000-08:002011-11-25T09:24:40.421-08:00Abominable Foods<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGbYM_CQ3XAZwZxwCDBoYvgrgKzba-gznNQmHD4iJ26clUwFIfmEGZGhspVuazn9YhFlXjXSyOnjpjWIhDYZ10Ck0WYIMUw0GoqOqceR5LfqybwIDRRZvGNIURT0pZ3wOEJfrHBuHIBVf/s1600/McPukes.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 271px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGbYM_CQ3XAZwZxwCDBoYvgrgKzba-gznNQmHD4iJ26clUwFIfmEGZGhspVuazn9YhFlXjXSyOnjpjWIhDYZ10Ck0WYIMUw0GoqOqceR5LfqybwIDRRZvGNIURT0pZ3wOEJfrHBuHIBVf/s320/McPukes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678985102369999650" border="0" /></a> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. Brussel Sprouts – You taste like my backyard. There’s grass, old trees, garbage cans, a hobo poking around the alley for empties.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Onions – If you eat them raw, you should be ashamed of yourself. You’ll need to go to confession to absolve your sin! But onions are so uncivilized that the priest probably won’t sit within a mile of you! You’ll exit the church in tears then, late Sunday night, alone in your candle-lit kitchen, you’ll gorge on a bulb of raw garlic and have an explosive gastrogasm, won’t you, glutton!?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Green peppers – Is this healthy or something? Why’s everyone and their mother trying to make me eat this bitter junk? It’s extra sick when cooked and, unfortunately, stars in every meal of the day, from eggs to pizza. It’s enough to turn a snob anorexic.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Fish sauce –It tastes good, but makes you smell you’ve performed cunnilingus on a dead cod.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Kraft Dinner – This is an insult to the word ‘dinner’. You call that macaroni? And this garbage is supposed to be cheese? And then you douse it in ketchup to camouflage the poisonous flavour? You stupid gringo, don’t tell me this is your idea of rosé sauce? My sophisticated tastes outgrew this gruel before birth.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. McDonalds Hamburger – I had one recently…it tasted like fallen dreams. Can’t believe I used to pine for these once upon a time…ahhh…back in the ol’ Americana days, when we didn’t know no better.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Liver – This tastes like bile and toxins, which is à propos. While beef liver is weird, I CAN tolerate calf’s liver on occasion, cause how could he accumulate any grossness? He’s toooo cuuuute!!!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Pâté – Hey Liver, I know you’re hiding in there! Don’t think you can change forms and market yourself as a delicacy to throw me off your trail. If word gets out that humans are so gullible, your comrade, canned cat food, will be next to launch a line of canapé toppers.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Parsnips – This root tastes sweet and metallic, like it’s full of vitamins and minerals. Whatever. People take pills for that. See you to the top the endangered species list, yukko.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. Popcorn – is delicious EXCEPT at movie theatres, where most people chew it with their mouths open. When this happens, I have to teach mofos some manners. During the quiet scene that you’re ruining, I’ll snatch the bag from your greasy paws and toss it at the screen shouting, “ANIMALS!!!” Then I’ll walk out slowly, kernels like bullets in my wake.</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-31680284653341197022011-11-23T18:22:00.000-08:002011-11-23T18:27:24.154-08:00Even Bitchier Fashion Don'ts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJoNvm3iNOHjCquDDfzAjwYMq4rcoG_6CJomHtyhUBkw9GRC9tKtG5nXomJ8ptdwNjbp9Yccjffidth5sZYRZa75rGmGOKMoUWkpOku9At9LAA4pA4YCu7c0zDEjrX2PUHBA9GfoOzDqVY/s1600/Project+Runway+peeps.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJoNvm3iNOHjCquDDfzAjwYMq4rcoG_6CJomHtyhUBkw9GRC9tKtG5nXomJ8ptdwNjbp9Yccjffidth5sZYRZa75rGmGOKMoUWkpOku9At9LAA4pA4YCu7c0zDEjrX2PUHBA9GfoOzDqVY/s320/Project+Runway+peeps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678382998128133890" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">1. Nice 5” stilettos. Too bad you look like a stripper with polio when you walk in them.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />2. Has Kurt Cobain risen from the grave to assemble an army of neo-grunge, plaid-clad bedheads, or was 1993 just randomly selected as the next big thing and re-packaged as ‘Boho chic’?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">3. I don’t care if Sienna Miller was spotted wearing Uggs once, that doesn’t give you the right to wear them unless you, too, are hot enough to have shagged Jude Law.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />4. If there weren’t so many monograms and cartoon flowers all over your shit-brown Louis Vuitton purse, it miiiiiiight look like it’s worth the $1000 you paid for it.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />5. No-one told me Ed Hardy is now President and CEO of the universe. I bet his name is plastered on the rings of Saturn cause they ALSO wanna look ‘edgy.’</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />6. Speaking of tattoo designs, I love that dolphin/butterfly/Chinese symbol inked on your back!*</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">*Must invest in companies specializing in laser-removal of stretched-marked clichés. I shall die a trillionaire!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">7. I love how your jeans are hanging off your ass, boi, cause now I know better than to touch the lice-ridden bits and pieces hidden beyond your stained and threadbare boxers.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />8. Because I’m not done ragging on leggings: If you have leggings with fake back pockets screen printed on them so they look like ultra tight jeans (to those with visual impairments, and from over 6 metres away) I’ll burn them and anything they’ve touched, including your sassy lil’ ass.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />9. Acid washed, tapered, jeans don’t count as skinny jeans but nice try Mom.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />10. Your ass-exposing micro-mini dress is giving boys a “10” on the bone-o-meter but that doesn’t mean they’ll want to hear what you have to say. They’ll presume you’re a brainless floozy, just like all the girls will.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />11. Leather pants should NOT be worn by anyone other than rock stars, cougars who go to Chick ‘n’ Deli, and Bon Jovi fans with weaknesses for the Danier outlet store. </span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />12. If your pants are so long that they’re touching the ground, this should indicate that you need them hemmed. HEMMED doesn’t mean rolled up, pinned, or tucked into your socks. It’s something achieved with a needle and thread and – in a jam – double-sided hemming tape which, if you have any self-worth at all, would be tucked neatly in your purse beside your Tide To Go stick.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />13. Hey muffin, if your waist is thicker than your hips, you have no business wearing low-rise pants or actually eating muffins.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />14. Socks + sandals. Some weirdos are determined to keep committing this offense. </span> <span style="font-family:arial;">Fine. WEAR your socks, sockettes, or nude pantyhose with reinforced toes. I don’t care. But I WILL spread rumors that you have athlete’s foot, warts, corns, hammer toes, bunions, foot odour, toe jam, fungus, oozing blisters, or secret prosthetic feet, and THAT’S why you’ve had to bite your thumb at good taste.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />15. How was Yoga class? I presume the locker room was closed for renovations so you’ve been forced to commute home in that Lululemon shit instead of real clothes. Or are you just deliberately showing off cause you can afford $100 ‘work out pants’ and can twist into kinky sexual positions, ya smug bitch?</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />16. Hey Holden Caulfield, I’m digging your backwards hat. It makes you look so rebellious, so disapproving of the status quo, so aloof to facial sun damage. Now turn it around and grow the fuck up.</span></span>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-5161833287337583432011-11-18T10:30:00.000-08:002011-11-18T10:36:16.356-08:00Your Tattoo is Ugly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FphWJJbXk7zRjuLFjfm_kMOuR3goTUahIv0Hx3_0ZjWN90cpYHlixFWDo58ucnSQWOQ2Pl4vIYiJSG2Q_l0momJana43okrlDwlQHlxKA9TNY0gqbu6tLjOJD6e8fpoc66A3F0ws94jH/s1600/Paw+prints.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FphWJJbXk7zRjuLFjfm_kMOuR3goTUahIv0Hx3_0ZjWN90cpYHlixFWDo58ucnSQWOQ2Pl4vIYiJSG2Q_l0momJana43okrlDwlQHlxKA9TNY0gqbu6tLjOJD6e8fpoc66A3F0ws94jH/s320/Paw+prints.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676405510714952946" border="0" /></a><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. Paw Prints – I don’t see the appeal of making it look like you’ve been molested by a raccoon. Like it snuck in through your bedroom window and tap danced on your chest while you were passed out, that sneaky bugger.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Strawberry – If you’d like to explain how this is significant to you, I’m all ears. Maybe you ate a tasty strawberry once, and it changed your whole life? Maybe you’re a strawberry picker? Maybe you visited Strawberry Fields in Liverpool and then wobbled down to the tattoo shop after too many Stellas while on holiday? Ding! That’s it.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Dolphins – This screams Miami, 1988. Unless you really got it in 1988, in a display of youthful recklessness, then this water mammal is too graceful to be permanently trapped in your sea of skin.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Asian characters – That’s special, white guy. You can’t read it, but you’re pretty sure it means “courage” or “individuality” or some shit. Why can’t more English-speaking people get their little mantras written in a respectful Times New Roman? I know, it’s cause you get a chubby eroticizing the unfamiliar like every other arrogant world oppressor.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Someone’s Name – This is the #1 reason to invest in tattoo removal technologies. I’m gonna make a trillion dollars offa dimwits who believe in “forever.” Some of us prefer to honour our loved ones through concepts like “being nice to them” and “having fond memories of them” but I guess that’s not literal enough.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. Belly/Tit tats – Speaking of forever, looks like you presume that you’re gonna be young and toned for all time. I know you’ve <i>listened</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> to the cautions concerning weight gain, skin stretching, and sagging, but you haven’t really </span><i>heard</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> them, have you. In a few years, it will be fun watching you watch yourself transform into a monster.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Stars – Really? Are you 10? Still playing with Crayola ink and rubber stamps? Do you still paint your nails with white out? Star symbols should be banned unless they’re appearing in a full sleeve of the cosmos which, of course, most of you wouldn’t have the balls to get.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Astrological Symbols – What a clichéd way to pigeonhole yourself. Who am I? Shoot, I keep forgetting. Wait, if I tattoo a scale on my ass I’m sure I’ll remember! *Zzzzzzzz.* There we are, I’m a scale. I’m “diplomatic and charming.” Clearly.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Tribal arm bands – Some fiddly and unoriginal lines around your arm or ankle don’t make you cool. Whatever happened to bracelets? Why aren’t they enough anymore?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. Teardrops – Smarten up. These tats must be taken gravely seriously, since it insinuates that you’re a gang member who has killed people. I don’t know how certain members of the “mainstream” got hold of this and turned it into a cutesy thing to perma-etch on your face, but it’s not an effin’ beauty mark!<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">11. Little red tattoos – Red-inked tats usually look like scabs, which means you’re always gonna look gross. If only removing them was as easy (and fun!) as picking them off.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">12. Butter/Dragonflies – Hi girlfriend. Your tattoo is as pretty and sweet as cupcakes at bridal showers. It’s not offensive, not suggestive, not thoughtful. But let’s be honest, it’s totally easier to order your body art from the catalogue than having to think too much. Who cares if everyone else has the same one…you’re already standardizing yourself through your H&M wardrobe anyhow.</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-77221916643072455922011-11-16T11:42:00.000-08:002011-11-16T12:15:56.888-08:00First Date Tips<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkKmSOcy7-B46SMfphYBvkzDz2Ptd0FaM0AuyOb6qNc0MeATSjAs4El515343qYCD59-s_lUySVH_cfu8PEDpi0nicVGqzWdg9hFAskl4lvm8ooYlHvCa2OUvftSnDR3VzFYG53HHHZ9X/s1600/jackson+%2526+Lisa+Kiss.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkKmSOcy7-B46SMfphYBvkzDz2Ptd0FaM0AuyOb6qNc0MeATSjAs4El515343qYCD59-s_lUySVH_cfu8PEDpi0nicVGqzWdg9hFAskl4lvm8ooYlHvCa2OUvftSnDR3VzFYG53HHHZ9X/s320/jackson+%2526+Lisa+Kiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675689562124101490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }@font-face { font-family: "Wingdings"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You’ve asked him/her out. Now what? These 10 handy tips will prevent you from totally fucking up.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. Show up with your date’s phone number written on your hand. It’s like, “See? I’m eager to meet you but I’m still too cool for paper.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Look hot, but not like you tried too hard. Ladies: tight T-shirt in red or black, and jeans. Gentlemen: same thing. You’ll look like twins who screw.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. You must demonstrate what I call ‘green light body language’: Let your date catch you scopin’ his/her bod. Lean in slightly, slowly lick your lips and awkwardly rejoin the conversation. If your crush blushes, congratulations, you’ve passed Go!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Alcohol makes you calmer, makes your date look hotter and makes you sluttier. Then, if you decide that you don’t like him/her after all, blame it on those lovable tricksters, Magical Mr. Beefeater and his side-kick, Tonic.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Ladies, unless you date Bay street men, pay for yourselves. If he won’t let you, pick up the tab on the second date. Students are poor and life is expensive. Tough titty, princess.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. Gentlemen, offer to pay. Pretend chivalry still exists. She’ll put up a little fight but you must smack her wallet down. This shows her you’re a powerful, take-charge, kind of fuckface.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Dinner and a movie? Yawn. If you care to seem interesting at all, at least suggest home-made Pad Thai and an Indie rock show.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. If the date goes well, kiss. I recommend soft and wet to begin with, then passionate and French followed by a “I had a really great time,” then sneak in another kiss for the road. NOTE: <i>Fucks</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> don’t go on the road; those should be saved until you’re sure you're ready to spend hours writhing with carnal pleasure and/or catching his/her crotch cooties.<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Have a plan in case the date goes horribly awry. Turn your cell to vibrate and get a reliable buddy to phone . If you wanna bail, answer the phone all, “Oh hi baby, yeah I’m out with the girls/guys.” This allows your date to hate you for being a cheater rather than cry themselves to sleep from rejection.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. There has been much debate about how long you should wait before phoning. Yes, I said PHONING, not TEXTING. Next-day is desperate. Three days is uninterested. So how about a voice mail on the second day. There, it’s settled. <span style="">:)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style=""></span></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">First published in </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://theeyeopener.com/">The Eyeopener</a><span style="font-family:arial;">, November 2002.</span></span>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-23932580284721573712011-11-10T11:21:00.001-08:002011-11-10T11:28:49.795-08:00Pests Make Me Puke<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeW4A88OZdzoM3yZkIMIEOKj0NglXJXt0NNVw8QbmkQ3aMxKk-45leUp4D41fiHDjEEDEIz20lUhMtSo2pmAZbgtQDR6Q1m3Mi5YH2LOtPDz386bSG8sfCsvWs-jjOyebn0Nn-9mN9MoI/s1600/Tear-eating+moths.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 319px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeW4A88OZdzoM3yZkIMIEOKj0NglXJXt0NNVw8QbmkQ3aMxKk-45leUp4D41fiHDjEEDEIz20lUhMtSo2pmAZbgtQDR6Q1m3Mi5YH2LOtPDz386bSG8sfCsvWs-jjOyebn0Nn-9mN9MoI/s320/Tear-eating+moths.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673449597684790418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. Bedbugs – It’s really dumb that a crawling flax seed could haunt my dreams this way. You know what assholes, I’m gonna spray the GTA with DDT and eradicate every last one of you! I’ll neuro-intoxicate every other living thing along with you, but at least we’ll get some precious, eternal, sleep for once.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Mice – You’re cute and deserve to die. Especially the one in my house who I’ve named Fink. He’s the little bugger who horses around behind the stove, gorges on peanut butter without springing the trap AND THEN shits inside my John Fluevog shoes. Your ass is grass, pal!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Ear Wigs – Didn’t used to bother me until I found one in my ear. Seriously.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Lice – Oh god, you’ve been the bane of my existence since childhood. One kid in the class would get lice, implicating everyone else. We’d line up and be subjected to examinations by rough-handed nurses. Just when I thought the reign of terror was over, I’m told I have to fear “adult” lice living in dudes’ underpants.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Moths – Don’t be fooled by their “I’m sorta like a butterfly” routine. Butterflies are sweet and lovely because they wouldn’t DREAM of doing the following bullshit: Fly erratically, hide in the dark, end up in your hair, commit suicide by candle flame, pollute your rice with worms, or eat holes in the cashmere sweater that flatters your rack.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. Cockroaches – Clearly I’m a Princess. I’d never seen one until 2006. But now that I’ve chosen the artist’s life, I’m well acquainted with them. Particularly the june-bug sized black ones that inhabit the basement of Massey Hall who play death metal sets behind the bar when no-one’s listening.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Fruit Flies – Quit flying up my nose, winged dot! You’re the reason I abstain from bananas. Even winter won’t kill you. Who the hell do you think you are, arrogantly surviving my glue traps and slipping between the grate of my swatter?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Mosquitoes – Not only do you sound like tinnitus, but you ruin all outdoor leisure time such as picnics and camping. And you spread Malaria and Black Nile, which is fairly inconsiderate as well.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Black Flies – I thought people were exaggerating the threat of these little insects. And then I got bit by one on the face and it took 6 months to heal. This “pimple” threatened to ruin my life long after your inconsequential life had ended, and for that, I’m gonna spray myself in the face with Deet every time I’m outside. So there muthafuckaz!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. House centipedes – Because you scuttle. Humans instinctively fear things that scuttle. Even the world “scuttle” gives us the heebie-jeebies. That’s all I know about you, but you can still fuck off.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">11. Red Ants – Personal vendetta: One summer, I was enjoying the evening on a park bench near the ravine. I felt a burning pinch on my back, and got up to find them all over me. Then I felt a pinch on my ass. I had to hide under a bridge like a troll, remove my pants like a pedophile, and shake them out like a junkie in a cold sweat. The culprit was moments away from biting my lady’s secret.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">12. Rats – I kinda liked you guys for awhile. Like as pets. But if you reach a certain size, my switch flips. The fear and scapegoating bubbles inside, I find myself throwing the Black Death in your face, which isn’t really your fault, and didn’t really affect me, but I’m mad so I grab at shitty things in the universe to blame you for.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">13. Squirrels – “Are really just rats with puffy tails.” Discuss.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">NOTE:<span style=""> </span>Bees, snakes and spiders didn’t make this list. I’m friends with these clans because they’re less obnoxious than these other monsters. I want to see humans form an alliance with the not-so-bad pests and fund their attack on the abhorrent ones. When the war is over, we can celebrate our triumph with oodles of honey, snake skin purses, and spider silk mutant foods!</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-26295271200823663712011-11-08T09:57:00.000-08:002011-11-08T10:03:24.063-08:00Rock Stars to Shag<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMU_ugVhsq77UZ_iOhXm6mYj-QosTskGv0V00cZtCBwrL_eCsgQGKx08bdKOcnnwok0NoNAWp1Hub1gde2rofxtZDlBCOrEBmtY2oqUgBFcuNegjS6fS5ExAjNwzTdJRGf2tKZxAVordxo/s1600/Jim_Morrison_mug_shot.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMU_ugVhsq77UZ_iOhXm6mYj-QosTskGv0V00cZtCBwrL_eCsgQGKx08bdKOcnnwok0NoNAWp1Hub1gde2rofxtZDlBCOrEBmtY2oqUgBFcuNegjS6fS5ExAjNwzTdJRGf2tKZxAVordxo/s320/Jim_Morrison_mug_shot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672686288348120018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; </style><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >1. David Bowie – Cause it would feel like shagging 100 magical dudes. I’m pretty sure he’s descended from unicorns.<br /><br /></span> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Jim Cuddy – Between positions, he could teach you to sing like that. And afterwards, he’d let you sleep in one of his hunky cowboy shirts.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Chris Martin – He seems like a roses and Hallmark kind o’ guy. He’s got a beautiful wife, two kids, and an English accent. Pretty dreamy…but keep your eyes peeled. He might have herpes or a fetish for shemales.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Jim Morrison – A shirtless poet in leather pants? Yes please! I also love him when he was fat and bearded, cause I’m an equal opportunist.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Sting – Swoon! He’s a red hot fox! I bet if I asked him to, he’d use his alleyway wiles to punch the dentures right out of Jon Bon Jovi’s mouth.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. Eddie Vedder – Obviously! Cause he’s the talented and philanthropic figurehead for a musical movement! He said screw you to Ticketmaster! He’s pals with Neil Young! And for a functioning alcoholic, his skin is gorgeous!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. Fleet Foxes – They’d be warm and smell like campfire. You could wear them like buffalo hides until the park ranger busted you.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Courtney Love – For the life experience. And a wicked Hunter S. Thompson-style story you could sell to <i>Rolling Stone</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, if they still care. And cause Billy Corgan might drop by – once again – if anyone still cares.</span></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Beck – I adore his music. But the guy’s pretty mysterious. I bet he’d play hard to get by making you convert to Scientology before any clothes came off.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. Hayden – Only due to accessibility. He lives in my neighbourhood and he looks like he needs some cheering up. We could grab a coupla coffees and go for a walk in the park… think about kissing…but not kiss, and walk home separately cause sometimes it’s more comfortable being alone.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">11. Morrissey – If a warlock crept into your deepest mind-chamber and started picking up all the odds and sods strewn on the floor, he could mash them together to make this hottie: peppy pop music + wrist-slashing lyrics + facetiousness + punk pompadour + superman jawline + politically outspoken + love of animals = cock fight with Robert Smith.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">12. Robert Plant – Because, baby, he’d give you every inch of his love. Would be a pity to waste it.</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-30501907221749274452011-11-05T11:51:00.000-07:002012-01-30T12:12:51.459-08:00Super Bitchy Fashion Don’ts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAHNGqZFfbZxwQsTV36HTLcRnYe3A6xF2-HcPW2mfVCAneaTk6tyUDcSUz-mTzFmjBI6qIXReB9YGmR3E8eROZMWT2TJI56irLEb5KZ8oJ7xA8uxXf0QBFyJ6mXdAY4T_EEertus74ThE/s1600/salvador_dali_flower_moustache.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAHNGqZFfbZxwQsTV36HTLcRnYe3A6xF2-HcPW2mfVCAneaTk6tyUDcSUz-mTzFmjBI6qIXReB9YGmR3E8eROZMWT2TJI56irLEb5KZ8oJ7xA8uxXf0QBFyJ6mXdAY4T_EEertus74ThE/s320/salvador_dali_flower_moustache.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671587713355894946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >A. If you’re wearing Crocs it’s mandatory I puke on them. </span><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">B. Nice gladiator sandals. Too bad they make your legs look short and will be unfashionable tomorrow.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">C. I guess you’re wearing those Converse All Stars cause having the same shoes as every other marketing victim is the new uniform for rebellion, eh hipster?</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">D. Judging by your flip flops and tan, I see you’ve recently been lounging at the cottage. Wait, you say you haven’t left Toronto all summer? And it’s been rainy and cold the whole time? Uh oh. I hear the penalty for posing as a lady of luxury is to go down to the dock with a rope and learn how to tie knots so you can hang yourself.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">E. Despite how you’ve thrown a belt around its waist and are wearing it with leggings, everyone knows your “dress” is actually a shirt. </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">F. Upon further inspection, I’m noticing that those leggings are flattering your camel toe. Pretty!</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" > </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">G. Simply <i>having</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > thighs doesn’t entitle you to show off how dimply they are in those short-shorts.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" > </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style="font-size:100%;">H. Hey hippie chick, your tattered clothes make you look homeless. I guess having no worldly possessions is the epitome of green living, hey?</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style="font-size:100%;">I. If American Eagle and Hollister were slogans that implied more than “I’m a tourist from upstate New York,” the world could be in the throes of a political/intellectual awakening rather than a mall-zombie infestation.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">J. I guess you’ve lost your purse and that’s why you’re carrying your shit in one of those cloth shopping bags? And by the way, even if the shopping bag says “Coach” or “Harrods” or “Tiffany,” it doesn’t mean anyone’s being duped into thinking you shop there…but nice try princess.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">K. Hey Johnny Public, those camouflage cargo shorts say “I am AWOL from caring about how I look.”</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">L. Let’s hope that’s an <i>ironic</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > handlebar moustache, and not </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>actually</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > a signpost that you’re a bear who picks up cubs at O’Grady’s on Friday nights. (Not that anyone minds…it’s just that girls will entirely quit showing sexual interest in you, is all). </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">M. Hey pimp daddy, your XL shirt fits like a little girl’s nightie. P.S. Pimps are modern-day slave masters so quit calling yourself that.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">N. Don’t actually follow draconian dos and don’ts lists. Creativity is sexy, even if you fail miserably and end up looking like a sack of rainbow crap.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >From August 2009.</span><br /></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-21184078619132259112011-11-03T20:13:00.000-07:002011-11-04T06:56:59.269-07:00I Frown on Fame<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdViNx07ka9P1QMue34P2RCpZz4DGQfYZBqRs0OTkDie8Mdn-kdKSJGop-OiFvDo7i3W7E1UiBfc4llcj6ywTPzRdM65B-r93MzxUnv6FnwU7kEqfjQqBDno89ke9HCvdL3qTRJgp08gv3/s1600/Kim%252C+Jen%252C+Fergie.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdViNx07ka9P1QMue34P2RCpZz4DGQfYZBqRs0OTkDie8Mdn-kdKSJGop-OiFvDo7i3W7E1UiBfc4llcj6ywTPzRdM65B-r93MzxUnv6FnwU7kEqfjQqBDno89ke9HCvdL3qTRJgp08gv3/s320/Kim%252C+Jen%252C+Fergie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671139215772144946" border="0" /></a><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here’s some “celebrities” who make me mad. Let their stories be a warning.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. I carry personal baggage surrounding Charlie Sheen. I keep vowing to never speak of him or his fans again, but I’ll do it this one <i>last</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> time. Sheen brings out the crazy in </span><i>everyone</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. He’s like a full moon. Which I hope has finally waned, cause that was a horrendous wax.</span></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Kim Kardashian is like a rash that keeps reappearing on the ass of the news. Yes, that’s mean…but seriously, why is she a celebrity? What does she do? Is her life a pop-art performance piece?</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Speaking of performance art, Lady Gaga is someone I’m trying really hard to hate. But every time I see her on TV, I guilt-love her a little more. People overstate her subversive monster qualities, but at least her near-nudity is more interesting than Rihanna’s.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. After five looooong years of hearing about this woman, I’m pretty sure the words “Paris Hilton” have returned to meaning, “a four-star hotel in Paris.” What a relief! Call me old-fashioned, but I like to maintain a healthy separation between names and places, church and state, the rich and famous.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. And her sidekick, Nicole Richie. Motherhood put an end to paparazzi-pics of her bones jogging in a saggy bikini at the beach. Now it’s the baby bump who’s making headlines. Insiders say the bump was seen stumbling out of a nightclub with Jessica Simpson’s bump. Humps and Lumps were waiting in the car.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6…and <i>that’s</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> how Fergie drove the last nail into the Black Eyed Peas’ coffin. Humps and Lumps declined to comment.</span></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. What’s the difference between Ryan Gosling and Ryan Reynolds? I experience acute anxiety when my girlfriends start swooning over one (or both?) of them. I swoon too, but I’m actually just faking it to uphold society’s strictly-held social norms.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Jersey Shore…sorry, where is this place? Where did the show’s producers find these creatures? I saw some interesting characters sleeping on benches outside the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health this afternoon – I’m gonna start a reality show too!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Justin Bieber. I think I’m the only person who still hasn’t heard any of his music. I don’t have any justifiable problem with the kid, but he’s no Raffi, that’s sure as heck!</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. In conclusion, these people are all just victims of the celebrity system. They are artists and entrepreneurs struggling to live and work in peace, but are unfairly hounded by the blood-thirsty media. Meanwhile, consumers of that media are equally victimized by being forced to click on celebrity websites, attend cash-grab live performances, and pine for knockoff versions of red carpet looks. It’s a cycle that kills. <a href="http://www.oxfam.ca/">Donate now</a> to save lives.</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-14127651110714007942011-11-03T11:45:00.000-07:002011-11-03T16:21:02.290-07:00Ten Love Tips<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvLmW6ScgK6cKUBCYkc-pImFz-Dh89boxFLkFjiPSRdsG0ubut6kEiygbr2EDPolh3fFwP4TnHw8R8zxTnoLFUQuADap8N6twd0K4C8YW3tXM-QYrZPXKl1g-jAcCL7bLLr9W2HK2IgTi/s1600/truth-dare-bottle.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvLmW6ScgK6cKUBCYkc-pImFz-Dh89boxFLkFjiPSRdsG0ubut6kEiygbr2EDPolh3fFwP4TnHw8R8zxTnoLFUQuADap8N6twd0K4C8YW3tXM-QYrZPXKl1g-jAcCL7bLLr9W2HK2IgTi/s320/truth-dare-bottle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670845397363541106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">1. Most importantly, don’t trade the Rolls for a ride in the convertible...unless it’s red with racing stripes. Then it’s ‘K.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" > </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Be <u>Aloof</u>. ALOOF. <i>Aloof.</i></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><i><br /></i></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><i> </i></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;">3....while simultaneously acting like a drunken whore. (This is tricky. If you’re having trouble, think of Madonna circa <i>Truth or Dare</i></span><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" > or most men).</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-style: normal;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" > </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. Despite popular belief, if both of you have garlic breath, it DOES NOT cancel itself out. You both smell.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Never send anonymous emails to your crush. That’s worse than leaving 7-page single spaced love letters in his locker (if you didn’t learn your lesson in grade 10, I pity you, darling).</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. Never say “let’s just be friends.” Nobody buys that crap. Instead try “fuck buddies?”</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">For the ladies, try eating more bananas or popcicles in public. Guaranteed results.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p><p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">8.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">For the fellas, carry an acoustic guitar on your back wherever you go. You’ll surely earn “sensitivity”/ “rock God” points. If you learn to play it, bonus!</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" ><br />9. On a first date, don’t ask about his/her sexual history. If I wanted to date my OB/GYN I would, asshole. </span> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. Rebounds have a bad rap. But remember, no-one wants a heart-on-his-sleeve pussy unless, say, he’s a pussy with an acoustic guitar and 10 original songs about his ex. In which case, go for him ladies!</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial;"><span style=""><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >[First published in </span><a href="http://theeyeopener.com/"><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >The Eyeopener</span></a><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >, 2002]</span><br /></span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1666065198979140191.post-7627281311512529332011-11-02T22:38:00.000-07:002011-11-09T00:00:45.220-08:00How to Win With Your Honey’s Parents<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-lSG9oX83rPodfhWx7D40VKT5sX5IAiFdLDfjkReOUoUKsKzlEUBVPSrirXNAUKRJXKLSQJuvhCLGbblaU6l7ZxBdx_pyOFWRu0u7oMsu2bsVHx-P73WtFHykVooheLxSg9eRUvst8Tf/s1600/Knife.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-lSG9oX83rPodfhWx7D40VKT5sX5IAiFdLDfjkReOUoUKsKzlEUBVPSrirXNAUKRJXKLSQJuvhCLGbblaU6l7ZxBdx_pyOFWRu0u7oMsu2bsVHx-P73WtFHykVooheLxSg9eRUvst8Tf/s320/Knife.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672902847236589186" border="0" /></a><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Become a master bullshit artist. Fill your canvas with vibrant fibs and textured tales then hang it high in a guilt-gilded frame.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">1. If you’re invited to dinner with your lover’s parents, be sure to bring a bottle of wine. And not the gut-rotting piss YOU drink. Save up for a nice bottle of red. You want Ma and Pa to get drunk and judge you favourably – at least until they sober up and realize you’re a fuck-face.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">2. Ladies: Trade in the crop tops, mini skirts and hooker boots for sweater sets, long skirts and pearls. The June Cleaver look will make you seem less diseased by partyboys of yesteryear.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">3. Gentlemen: Trade in the band T-shirts, Diesel jeans and stinky kicks for golf shirts, beige Dockers and polished loafers. You’ll look like Tiger Woods, but moms love his polite asexuality.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">4. It’s not a dinner, it’s a sales pitch. Talk yourself up: your academic achievements, your lofty career goals, your love of family. But keep quiet about the size of your endowments because no-one likes a boastful bastard.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5. Rather, compliment their son or daughter’s endowments. For extra points, turn it into a compliment about the family’s superb genes. Example: “Hey Mrs. Something, I see where Donna got her killer rack.” (Clearly, I jest. No booby jokes at the dinner table!)</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">6. Read the business section regularly. Next time you bump into Mom and Dad, pretend you have a trillion shares of Pfizer stocks. Don’t forget to mention your imaginary trust fund, your pretend loaded grandfather and the money tree in your back yard.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">7. If your girlfriend’s mother has a Mrs. Robinson vibe, do not be alone with her – even when she asks you to “help her with something upstairs.” Help only if Mr. Robinson will be there too. Orgies are making a comeback – you wouldn’t want to wimp out and appear rude.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" > </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style="font-size:100%;">8. Compliment Mother’s decorating style. Something like, “I love how you’ve combined Postwar Functionalism with modern French Country in your sitting room, Mrs. Whatever. Why, that faux-Ikea sofa is simply divine!”</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">9. Compliment Father’s car. Try, “Your minivan successfully fuses style and safety, Mr. So-and-So! These air bags allow me enough peace of mind to properly enjoy the luxury of this dog-scented interior.”</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">10. If the aforementioned tips do not help you weasel your way into their good graces, be patient. Many parents reckon the longer you stick around with their offspring, the better you are. That, or the deeper their loathing for you will grow.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;" face="arial" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Next week: Disposing of the Bodies: Ten Tips.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">[First published in </span><a href="http://theeyeopener.com/"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >The Eyeopener</span></a><span style="font-size:100%;">, 2004]</span></p>Juleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04403947160645165675noreply@blogger.com0