I’ll try being nicer if you try being smarter!

Archive for May, 2009

Signing off…temporarily

I’m going out of town for five days. My laptop screen is very wonky and goes black with the slighest jiggle, so travelling with it is not an option.

This means that I will be completely offline for six days. SIX. DAYS.

Can I do that? Really?

I live on the internet. I don’t know how I’m going to handle this. By the end of the week, it is quite likely I’ll be rocking back and forth in a crumpled heap in a corner somewhere, muttering, ‘Google, google, facebook, google’

It won’t be pretty.

Wish me luck.

I’m about to lose contact with the world…..I’m falling into a black, unconnected abyss.

When was the last time this happened to me? What, like, Grade 10? That was 11 years ago! Eleven years? Holy hell…..I’m so old! Oh god, I’m old AND about to fall off the internet!

I have to go now and breathe into a paper bag.




Way back in the day, this woman named Eve ate an apple she shouldn’t have. She screwed us all over and now we all have monthly cycles. Periods. The rag. The worst thing ever. Whatever.

And we all get it (for the sake of argument, I don’t mean to start any debate about those who aren’t fertile, that is SO not my blog). Every month, give or take, we have to deal with it. It’s part of life. And it comes with a lot of downsides. I can’t think of any upsides to it, in fact. Nothing positive comes to mind.

We all deal with it. It sucks. We move on.

Except for that small portion of women who insist on sharing with other women exactly where they are in their ‘beautiful, natural menstrual cycle’. They will inform you of the daily position of their eggs, the activities of their uterus, the fact that they are just about to start on their rag, blah blah blah. They will inform you as to the level of bloat they are currently experiencing. Their ratio of cravings, in terms of salty and sweet. They will complain about how cranky they are, how none of their clothes fit, their back hurts, blah blah blah. They’ll come up to you and ask for a ‘product’ then loudly whisper that ‘they’re on their period’. No shit, really? I thought you just really liked collecting linty tampons from the bottom of my purse. You idiot.

What IS it with these women?

“Oh my god, I SO need chocolate…….(in a stage whisper), I’m sooooo PMSing” Um, wtf. I don’t care. Keep your menses to yourself. I don’t need to know the schedule of your innards, thanks though.

How are you supposed to react? They seem to think that this allows them instant bonding privileges with you, seeing as you both go through the same thing. Yeah…..alright. So I should bond with everyone who has feet too? Am I supposed to jump up and down and congratulate them on not getting themselves knocked up this month? Or start a parade dedicated to their wasted fertility? I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

If you really want me to be aware of when you’ll be PMSing, then actually on the rag, then in the clear, please just give me a damn calendar. I can throw it away and we’ll never have to speak of it again.

And dudes, when I wrote ‘please just give me a damn calendar’, I had actually written bloody instead of damn. Ha. Bad pun. Glad I caught that one, that would have been an editing fail.

What was I saying? Oh yeah. Leave me out of your uterus’ schedule. I don’t need to know about it. Just cuz we both have one, doesn’t mean we’re friends. Thanks. Bye.

The Jig is Up! Stop it!

I’m a realist. Most people would argue with me and call me a full-blown pessimist, but they suck, and you should just ignore them. I’m a realist.

In my mind, things are the way they are. Some stuff is good. Some stuff is bad. I try very hard to just let stuff go. If you’ve read my blog for some time, you’re probably thinking I’m full of crap, since I rant about everything. But it’s all in a joking tone and more often than not, I find it funny. You do too. YOU DO TOO, dammit.


I’m not a fan of lying. I don’t pretend to like people I don’t like. I don’t pretend to like things I don’t like. I don’t do what I don’t want to do, just because it’s what most people think it’s what I should. I ams what I ams. I don’t lie, I don’t pretend.

So of course, here come my list of ‘Most Annoying Things To Lie About and/or Pretend’.  Cuz, you’re not fooling anybody! The jig is up! Here we go:

“No really, it’s my hair.”
Please. PLEASE. Please, stop pretending you are not bald. Or balding. Everybody knows you’re wearing a rug. The jig is up. It’s okay, I assure you. I’d much rather stare at a tiny patch of reflective scalp than spend all day trying to avert my gaze from the painfully obvious lines where your toupee is welded to your skull.

It’s just hair. We understand that men lose it. We’re cool with that. Don’t pretend you have some when you don’t, cuz then it’s gonna get real awkward later on when it flies away in the wind. Nobody wants you to look like Donald Trump, so just don’t.






– “I’m a girl, so I can wear high heeled shoes”
Okay. No. Just because you were born with more estrogen than testosterone, it doesn’t mean you can walk in heels. If you can’t walk in heels, STOP PRETENDING like you can.

 hate walking behind you, watching you teeter around like a drunk, limping monkey. There’s cute flats out there, go buy some of those. You’re not fooling anybody. Just because you haven’t fallen down doesn’t mean we’re buying the act. You aren’t even straightening your knees and your ankles are about to break. Quit it. You can’t walk in heels. Accept it, stop pretending you can, and buy a damn pair of sneakers. GAWD.

“Yeah, so you like my Louis Vuitton bag?”
I don’t understand knockoffs. I don’t. Why are you pretending that you have money when you don’t? I can tell that your garishly coloured, vinyl bag is clearly NOT a Louis Vuitton or a Coach bag…..the Coach bags have C’s on them, NOT O’s! And even if you do manage to score a good knockoff, I know you’re pretending, because nobody with a real Louis Vuitton bag is riding the bus beside me, with bags full of no-name Cheerios from the local discount grocery store. You fail. Give up the lie. It’s okay. Buy a nice bag with the money that you do have, it’s alright.

-“All I eat is salad!”
Uh huh. Right. I don’t know how many people with more fat rolls than limbs have tried to pretend this one. Dude, you’re fat. It’s okay. Truly, it is. I don’t care what you shove into your mouth, honestly. Just stop pretending that all you eat is celery and salad, because clearly that isn’t the case. Look, I binge on Ben & Jerry’s too, I’m just saying.

– “I no understand!”
Okay, so I have spoken to you several times. We’ve conversed pleasantly while I was talking to you as my client, or while I was ordering something from you at the coffee place. But all of a freaking sudden, when I have a problem or a question that you don’t like, your accent becomes a lot stronger and you don’t understand what I’m saying. I call bullshit, you assmonkey. Just because you’re bilingual doesn’t mean you can avoid my English wrath. Ohhhh no, it doesn’t work like that. Stop lying to me. You don’t think I’ll learn a nasty phrase in your language? Oh my friend, how you underestimate me.

– “You should really be on this conference call, it’s tres important”
HA! You expect me to believe that? Nice try. I’ll hop on the call, but trust you me, I’m not paying any attention. I’m more than likely knitting and/or mocking you incessantly while I pray that my ‘mute’ button isn’t broken. An important conference call. What an oxymoron. Lies! Liiiies! If it’s really important and I don’t do it, you’ll yell at me. At that point, I’ll start doing it.

And oh yeah, sorry about the lack of posting. Work has lately put me into an extraordinarily bad/suicidal/homicidal mood and by the time I get home, I have no interest in amusing others on the internet. Sorry about that…..

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