Jul 29, 2011

I Quit Quitting

It is safe to say that the idea of quitting something, anything, is a fairly daunting task for someone with an obsessive personality, such as myself.

What? Me? Obsessive? Get the fuck outta here.

Yes. It's true.

At least, I believe that has become the universal classification for it. If that word didn't exist, I would prefer to consider myself to be a person that possesses intense conviction; I don't do anything half-assed.

Actually, the thought of that phrase perplexes me, since I'm very visual. Do you think that implies the top or bottom half of both ass cheeks, or just one cheek with the asshole entirely exposed and vulnerable to nature's elements?

Anyway, I digress.

Yes. I go full out when I decide I love or want something. When I go shopping, I shop like there's no tomorrow. When I started smoking, I smoked like a rock star. When I started fucking, I fucked like a champion. When I fall in love, I can't see straight. And of course, my first obsession would be with eating. When I eat, I can eat for a small village.

Fuck, I love food. Yummy, yummy food. Foodie. Food. Food.

Now, some people over-eat because they're depressed, or because they're happy. Some do it because of self-loathing. Some even eat simply because they're bored.

But here's the thing:
I'm not depressed (most of the time).
I'm happy (a lot of the time).
I think I'm awesome (twenty-four-seven).
I'm never bored (ever).

So why do I over-eat?
Because my belly is screaming, "Get that fucking fantastic food in here, bitch! NOW!" And really, how can one argue with their own internal organs? Maybe my love just runs too deep, like a tumor that has wrapped itself around a vein and is completely inoperable; we are one. Me, myself and food.

This brings me to the one thing that I do often, and that is quit diets. A lot.

They all work. That's not the problem. It's staying on them that is the problem. It's the perpetual cycle of hemorrhaging money to various institutions and companies, succeeding, becoming poor and then rebounding once I quit since I cannot afford the maintenance plans. It's absolutely obnoxious.

I have decided on the alternative, which is that I vow to be acceptably content with myself, just the way I am.
I will not attempt any more stupid fads or clubs or watchers of any sort. I still struggle every day not to over-eat, but I feel I can control myself on the majority of days. Also, since groceries have fucking sky rocketed in price the last 6 months, financial situations have actually helped me control my intake and what I actually buy and what I must now do without.

But that is it. I quit.
I have officially quit quitting diets. 
Or rather, I'm quitting them all together.
So let it be written.
So let it be done.

And for a special treat that I give myself in moderation... Blizzard? Baby! Here I come to face fuck you!
What size?
Don't be insulting.
with extra topping.

Jul 27, 2011

Forever 27? Let me think about it...

Oh, Amy Winehouse. For once, I have little words... but I did make this:

Disclaimer: This is, in no way, a joke about her dying. Succumbing to an addiction is truly an unfortunate tragedy.
It is, however, my opinion that comparing her relevance to the musical community to somehow equal that of
Janis Joplin, Jimmi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain is both laughable and insulting... to them.  

Mama's Losin' It

Credit: Original poster by Scott Lobaido.

Jul 25, 2011

It's So Agrestic

OK, so this week's Music Monday Moves Me is to post my favorite TV theme song. Oh good lordy! Where do I begin, let me count the ways... or rather, erm, versions.

It's all about the WEEDS, people. My favorite TV song in a long, long time. Of course, I could list all the 80s and 90s songs that I also loved so much, but I already strung together a poem tribute for those a short while ago. If you missed that crap gem, check it out here.

Back to WEEDS.

There are many versions. In fact, every episode had someone different performing it. How fabulous is that? It was that little something extra to look forward to at the opening of each new show.

Here are a few of my favorites; and because I'm trying really hard not to be bias, I'll also include some links that although I personally didn't luuuurve, I'm sure some others might. See how fucking generous I was just now? Remember that!

Every.Single.Version. with the actual show intro scene are all blocked from embedding - how rude. I'll just give you some links instead - and I hope you take it from there. This is the version by Linkin Park - it's acoustic and even though his name is unfortunately Chester, his voice does wild and wonderful things to my lady bits.

It was originally written by Malvina Reynolds in 1962. Weeds used this original for the first season, and then began using the various covers for the following seasons.

There is also the Death Cab for Cutie version that is also fantastic - a little more plugged in and rocking.

Maestro Charles Barnett did an instrumental version. When I hear it this version, the irony flows easily and abundantly.

Of course, Elvis Costello's rendition - because - he's fucking Elvis Costello, dudes!

Other versions include:
Jenny Lewis and Jonathan Rice - Nice duet, but doesn't rock my socks. Meh.
The Individuals - Although I appreciate the Hip Hop vibe, his voice scares me a lil' bit.
Persephone's Bees - Nice to see a multicultural twist in there, I like it! Also? Persephone? Like Jeremy's Pegasus? Score.
Angelique Kidjo - All I have to lovingly say is: Ticky tacky ticky tacky hummm.
Billy Bob Thornton - If you like country... umm, yeah.

There are so many other versions. If you are a fan of Weeds and I left out your favorite intro, I'm sorry...
No. I'm not, actually. Do I look like iTunes? No.
I'm much prettier and I don't retain unnecessary bullshit.


Jul 22, 2011

Unfastened Friday 2.0

Usually, the Unfastened Fridays will include 3 or more quick stories, but when Leighann from Multitasking Mumma sent me this, I knew it had to be all on its own! Not only is it a stand-alone kind of story, but she also is brave enough to take credit for it. I love your balls, babe; are they Adamantium by any chance?


In the early days of our relationship Brian and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other and like all new couples we took every opportunity to get a little randy.  We weren’t living together at the time and were living two hours apart so this meant we spent a lot of time in the car and had to be creative or multitask (hellooo, its what I do). 

Not necessarily romantic, but we were just new and the very sight of him made me throw my shirt out the window.

NOTE: I do not condone driving while distracted, do not try this in your own car, however, if you do, please send your story to Lady E.

One evening, while driving together, the sexual heat became too much and  the windows started to fog with our hot breath as we searched for a place to pull over.

But then I suggested maybe we could keep driving?

Huh. Driving and intercourse?

Not happening.

But there are other ways to make a man hummmmm.

And because I’m skilled at the playing the skin flute the instrument was happy to participate.

Band practice was going well and I was thrilled when I heard “oh shit.”

That’s right! Oh Shit! I’m that good! 

My confidence was through the roof. Maybe I could pull off a little ride in the drivers seat!

He started thrusting like a wild bronco, making me think I might have to abort the mission. My humming skills could not withstand a jive like this! Was this a new move I wasn’t privy to? I was about to choke.

“NO! Get up!! Police!”

I sprung up, threw my head back so hard I hit it off of the passenger side window, and nearly knocked myself out. The pain was instant and through blurry vision I saw what appeared to be the flashing lights of a ride check coming up just seconds away.

Brian shuffled with his pants, I massaged my head.

“Good evening.” The light of the flashlight scanned the car and across Brian’s face.

“Evening.” Brian cleared his throat twice but it still crackled. My head ached and I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming but I was certain I had a concussion.

“Anything to drink tonight?” His flashlight concentrated on Brian’s face.

“Nope.” Why wasn’t anyone asking me if I needed medical attention?

“Why’s your face so red?”


“Huh?” Oh God I am dreaming.

“Your face. It’s bright red, like you’ve been jogging.”

Dear Lawd is that man seriously asking this question? I’ve hit my head too hard!! 

And then I hear the answer…



As I've mentioned, usually the UFF stories are shorter. If you have a little story (or one you think would fit a full post like show-off Leighann over here), then please send it to me here! It can be 100% anonymous if you like - just don't fill out the name & email field - it will STILL send if those aren't filled, yo!

Jul 18, 2011

A Bad Movie Choice

One of the earliest memories of my birthday parties is easy to recall. It was my 10th birthday; grade four.
In fact, I really wish I could forget it.
Or rather, rewind and do one tiny little thing over again: Choose a different fucking movie.

The party was going along nicely.
Games were played.
Presents were opened.
Cake was eaten.

My mother has purchased a huge makeup kit for the 'gimmick' of the party. We all applied hideous amounts of eye shadow, lipstick and rouge on each other. By the end of it, we closely resembled a group of midget zombie clowns rather than 10 year old girls. I have photos - they are terrifying.

The final wind-down was movie time. We all nestled in various positions around the couches and pillows on the floor, like a pride of lionesses; colourfully painted lionesses.

I had chosen 'Fine Things' for the movie. It is a Danielle Steel tearjerker but with some action and a love story. Even at ten, I really got into dramatic story lines like this one; I loved it. In hindsight, a Danielle Steel movie probably wasn't a wise decision for our age, nor for a party, regardless. I'd like to try and blame that one on my mother, but I know how stubborn I've always been and there was probably a "warning speech" that I chose to ignore, I'm almost certain of it.

We were all into the movie; it is definitely a roller coaster of a plot. Once the main characters were finally together, the woman gets cancer. It gets drawn out and is very revealing about the ugliness of cancer. The problem? One of my friend's little sister had recently been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and was under-going chemotherapy at Toronto Sick Kids.

Needless to say, at the dramatic scene where the mother dies, (If you haven't seen the movie, sorry for ruining it. It was made in 1990; get over it.) my friend goes into a complete meltdown. Extreme. We had to call her mother to come and pick her up.

I felt like a fucking twat. I still do, even to this day.

There really wasn't much of a party after that. We didn't watch the second half of the movie. We just kind of sat around in awkward silence... crying... and waited out the final hour before other parents arrived.

Worst. Party. Ever.

The next year? I think we watched 'House Party' with Kid n' Play.

Jul 15, 2011

An Alternate Ending (Part II)

In case you're just joining us, Part I is here. This is Part II. Enjoy.


He leaned in to kiss her neck and started to pull off her jacket. He began to walk backwards, continuously removing pieces of her clothing, leading her down the hall and into his bedroom. They both were undressing each other with fervent excitement and yet still wanting to savor every second.

They laid down on his bed and she ran her fingers through his dark hair as he kissed her chest, her nipples, her sternum, her scar. She went to grab him and he resisted, "It's fine! You are beautiful." His words were all too hauntingly familiar.

His tongue simply touching her sent pre-climatic tremors throughout her entire body; she couldn't take it for very long. Her impatience was over-powering and she wanted and needed him inside her. She usually had difficulty reaching orgasm, but today, it came effortlessly.

She pulled him back up to her face and he pinned her arms above her head. "Remember this?" Of course she did; it was like
the first time they ever kissed. She was in awe that he remembered. He was always insistent that he had forgotten so much of their past together.

With a quiet and broken voice, she responded, "The first time. Our first time. Yes."

He let go and they leaned into each other for a kiss gorged with sentiment and affection while she wrapped her legs around his and firmly ran her fingers up and down his back. He suddenly pulled back slightly and caressed the side of her face. He looked intensely into her eyes: "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She didn't say anything; she just took hold of him and gently slid him inside of her. For a few moments, he didn't thrust; he just remained deep inside, making them one. He then pulled back and brought her up with him, sitting up together on the bed. They held each other to stay up, intimately and effortlessly.

Slow and loving.
Rhythmic; like a dance.
And then harder.

They fell back on to the bed, exhausted. They continued giving each other was seemed to be like congratulatory kisses - quick and happy yet firm and satisfied. They rested while savoring each other's company. Together; in silence. For the most sublime hour of their lives. It physically ached to get up, knowing that it was all coming to an end.


Time was a selfish tyrant stealing back its gift. Taken away. Used up. No more.
She had a plane to catch.

After some fumbling, dressing and prolonging the painfully inevitable, he walked her to the door. They embraced one last time, attempting to dissolve into each other. Their arms fell down and found each others' to hold tightly while they kissed. It was hard. Harder even than the last time she said good bye. Much harder.

He brought up her hand with his and kissed the back, as if her skin was the most precious thing in existence. He had let out a few hiccups of heartbreaking desperation as they engaged in a wordless conversation. She pushed up on to her toes and gave him one last loving kiss before she peeled her body away from his for the final time.

As she walked away from him, she knew many things.

It was the happiest moment of her life.
And the saddest.
He would always be wonderful and sexy.
To him, she would always be young and beautiful.
And now, their love will be eternal.

It will grow.
And breathe.
And love.
And laugh.
And live on.

"These days turned out nothing like I had planned..."

Jul 11, 2011

The Innocent Can Never Last

Yay!! Pamela got her Cunt Dragon mug last week for being such an awesome fan/supporter/reader/friend - as well as a lucky bitch, since it was a random draw. It was so damn meant to be, for sure!

I know Ms. Gold wasn't an ivory flower went we met, but I'll like to think that I've further assisted with her travels towards the path of down and dirty. And if anyone gives her shit about that mug at work, she can blame it all on me - I'm cool with that.

And if you have the desire and the means, I highly recommend picking up your own Cunt Dragon mug.
Yes, I have no shame - you should know that by now, yo!

Then, this weekend I got this tweet from CrazyLadyX5 and it truly moved me that I have affected people in such a way that my very being can be synonymous with giggly immature sex jokes involving the number 69. Oh, how proud I am, I can't even begin to measure it with words. No, no, thank you, Crazy Lady for letting me know!

And finally, because it is Monday and I haven't done a Monday Music Moves Me for a couple weeks, here is one I just had to throw into the mix. Not only does it fit with the Military theme for today, but oh my God, it's an epic one. Firstly, Green Day. I don't even need to say more on that point. Secondly, Jamie Bell! Little Billy Elliot all grown up and hormonal. I love it! Thirdly, this is more like a short rather than a music video - it's full of teen angst drama, which is, of course, my very favorite type of bread and butter. Perhaps it's just me, but I can't watch this video without being reduced to a blubbering mess. Come back, Jamie! I love you!


Jul 8, 2011

An Alternate Ending (Part 1)

In an alternate universe (a.k.a. My imagination) this is how "the final day" really happened.

His text: I've thought about it. Can you be here at 2 tomrw?

Her text: I'll be there.

Her heart couldn't stop pounding since she received his message. Her breaths were short and fast. Thoughts and emotions were rapidly swirling over her body like satin ribbons; they were wrapping around her like a cocoon and getting tighter. The anticipation alone was more excitement than she had felt in so long that she couldn't even estimate to compare.

She tried so hard to sleep that night, but it was difficult. Her mind kept racing. The occasional bursts of jumping up out of bed to do some happy dancing probably didn't help either.

That morning she showered, shaved, inspected every inch of her body. She changed outfits five times - but finally decided on the first one.

She hadn't smoked in 4 years but she had 6 already that morning. She was nervous but it was the best kind of anticipatory nervousness; simultaneously ecstatic and terrified. She felt drunk.

The entire drive took longer than she had planned. Every stoplight she panicked and looked at the clock; she could not be late. To her immense relief, she arrived 25 minutes early. It was too early. She sat there in her car, waiting, thinking, doubting. No. She had come this far - there was no fucking way she was going to turn back now. She had been through far too much already, all of which had led her to this very moment in her life; she was ready.

Still 10 minutes early, she couldn't take it any longer. She approached his house gripping her skirt, trying to cure her hands of their anxious moisture. She opened the screen and knocked on the solid wood door. He mustn't have been far as he almost immediately opened it and smiled.

For the first time in almost 24 hours, her heart stopped throbbing for an eternal second. She held her breath and then exhaled deeply.

He reached out his hand and took hers, leading her in through the door way. Still holding her hand, he used his other to close the door behind her and then brought her in close, in one fluid motion. Their bodies pressed up against each other. She was buried in his chest and then she looked up slowly until their eyes met. He smelled so good. She could feel his heart beating in synchronized intensity with her own.

The silence was ceaseless - but right there, as they embraced for the first time in so many years, it was the most pure moment. Two opposing magnets that had lost each other had at long last been reunited. Perfection.

Finally, he spoke, "What does this mean?"

She smiled and replied, "It means everything... and it means nothing."

He let go of her hand and brought his up to caress her face. She closed her eyes and became lost in his touch as he pulled her in even closer. His lips touched hers. At first, it was gentle and unsure, but just beneath an eruption was waiting, full of repressed emotions that instantly burst into a frantic and over-whelming kiss. Zero to Sixty in 5 seconds flat.


It was all there, in that kiss.  

After what felt like a lifetime inside that kiss, he pulled away to look at her. She opened her tear-filled eyes to see his were equally soaked - and they both began to laugh. She was just about to say something and he stopped her.

He whispered, "I know."

She gulped, composed herself and then nodded in agreement.

to be continued... click here for Part II

Jul 6, 2011

They Said It Best

Mama's Losin' It
One of this week's prompts is to list 10 television shows that I would like to bring back. Well, I both love this and find it perplexing - mainly because listing them would just be too easy.

I watched a lot of television growing up. I never thought it was odd or bad or damaging. I still found time to play a lot of sports, ride my bike and take long walks in the forest and return home with grass stains.

Perhaps all the television shows I watched did make a substantial contribution towards my pop culture obsession, but I really wouldn't want to have it any other way.

Here is a poem to express all the values and heart-felt gestures that I learned from some of my favorite shows. The way I see it, if Baz Luhrmann can do it, dammit, so can I! See if YOU can pick out all TEN without cheating.


Don't know about the future, that's anybody's guess.
Ain't no good reason for getting all depressed.

There's a time for love
And a time for livin'
So take a chance and face the wind.

When the world never seems
to be living up to your dreams
it's time you started finding out
what everything is all about

There ain't no nothing
We can't love each other through.

Here's a chance to make it,
If we focus on our goals.
If you dish it we can take it,
Just remember you've been told.

Everybody's got a special kind of story
Everybody finds a way to shine,
It don't matter that you not got a lot.

Thank you for being a friend,
Travelled down the road and back again.
Your heart is true, you're a pal and a confident.

Show me that smile again.
Don’t waste another minute on your cryin’.
We're nowhere near the end
The best is ready to begin.

Our troubles are all the same;
You want to be where everybody knows your name.

According to our new arrival
Life is more than mere survival
We just might live the good life yet.


Jul 4, 2011

Confessions of a Dumbaholic

I know at one point or another, we've all done things and afterwards (perhaps years later) we have thought to ourselves,
"Wow. That was really fucking stupid!"

And it's true; it was stupid. Really, really rieeeee-diculously idiotic.

And I cannot even blame adolescence on all the dumb things that I've done because age doesn't seem to be a consistent variable in these misdeeds. What the hell was wrong with me? The scariest part is that I got good grades in school, have a relatively high IQ, but that doesn't seem to matter in the slightest.

I present to you the Top 5 reasons why I am amazed I'm still alive and well - likely because if you reached high enough, you'd probably find a horseshoe up my ass. (Although, please use gloves! I have issues with that whole area. Yuck.)

1. Riding in the trunk/boot of a car with a friend because there wasn't enough room for everyone in the car. I know someone who did that and then the car was in an accident and made her a paraplegic. And yet, I still did it.

2. Buying street drugs off a pimp and his strung-out hoe in downtown Manhattan, outside of a nightclub. I know someone who got bad drugs from a stranger and it totally fried his brain, permanently. And yet, I still did it.

3. I wanted to have sex with a guy so badly that we did it without any protection. I know someone who contracted herpes the same night that she lost her virginity... with no protection. And yet, I still did it.

4. I get really drowsy behind the wheel; I am seemingly powerless against the urge to sleep. I have fallen asleep behind the wheel at least 3 times (that I can recall). I know of many people that have been in car accidents, some fatal. And yet, I still do it.

5. Smuggling illegal narcotics across the Canada/USA border. Do I really need an example for this one? Oh, and I should probably mention that both my father and grandfather were Customs Officers! And yet, I still did it.

What are some of the dumbest things YOU have ever done?