Showing posts with label Top 5. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Top 5. Show all posts

Mar 20, 2013

Amurikan Food

I've been wanting to compile these since I got back, but I've been otherwise indisposed -- all will be made clear soon enough, I promise. Aside from the outrageous pro-gun, anti-abortion, anti-Obama billboards that accosted my eyes for the majority of the trip, there were some strange food-related things that I witnessed that I wanted to share . . . especially if you happened to miss them on The Twitter.
Seriously, Ernie. You might very well be dirty, but don't mention that in the title of your restaurant; just a thought, purely from a marketing perspective.
I would have LOVED to be a fly on the wall for that family discussion: "Greek food!" "Porn!" "No, Greek food!" "How about both?" "Humm, okay."
This still confuses me, but apparently it's a Pennsylvania thing?
Ew. They should call them Squirrel Testicles, because if they were warm and mushy, it's kind of what I would think I'm eating. Peanuts are meant to be either crunchy or smooth as hell in a PP&J sandwich; there is no in between.
I would have thought when I said, "Hold the chives" that it was a hint to my waiter that I was NOT expecting marshmallows on my potato, but no. I still dry wretch when I think about it.

On a positive note, I did eat at an iHop for the first time during this trip. I had pancakes that were drizzled with the cinnamon filling AND the cream cheese icing from a Cinnabon roll. Are you freaking kidding me? It was goddamn divine. Myself and my newly formed triple chin thank you.

What foods in other countries (or your own) do you find awesome, bizarre, hilarious or just plain disgusting?

Mar 11, 2013

5 Reasons Why Soap Opera Pregnancies Suck

It's no secret that one of my many vices, (after chocolate, cheese and cunnilingus) is my addiction to soap operas. As I'm vegging out on the couch during my currently very stress-filled life, I watch all these women (and often girls) go through these tumultuous pregnancies -- I mean, really -- has there ever been a full term pregnancy go by on a daytime show that was uneventful? Preposterous!

And we thought we had issues? I guess it could always be worse . . . like, soap opera worse.

5. Your pregnancy is high risk because a few years back you got shot in the Fallopian tube & the very fact that you conceived is nothing short of a daytime miracle. You lose it anyway and feel you should make the most of it, so you throw yourself down the stairs and blame it on that bitch that you hate so she can be charged with murder.

4. You have your entire pregnancy in hiding & let no one know about it because the father of the baby is a guy who is a crime boss that you just so happened to shoot in the head a while back. He must have managed to let that little detail slide and decided you two needed to have sex . . . obvs!

3. You're rushed in with premature contractions, get drugged and have your baby taken right out of your womb. Then, when you come to, you're told that your baby was still born and are handed the ashes, all the while your actual baby is fine and healthy and has been given to someone else to raise.

2. You actually lost the baby but in order to hang on to your man, you get various sizes of fake baby bumps and try to pretend that you're still pregnant, while plotting to steal someone else's baby. You get around the whole intimacy thing by telling him that due to the "high risk" nature of the pregnancy, no intimacy whatsoever is allowed. Baby kicks? Fuck that. Stay away from ma' fake belly!

1. You have sex with two different men within 48 hours and end up falling pregnant with twins that have different fathers. Shut up! My twins were apparently conceived 3 days apart, so it could, like, totally happen.


Oct 15, 2012

Hard Lessons & Broken Records

I began writing this with a heavy heart since recent events have left me quite speechless — which I will be the first to admit that it doesn't happen often. It is one thing to bully someone to the point where they take their own life; it is an entirely new level of hell that one is striving towards when you continue to mock and disparage that person after they have died. What is the motherfucking point of spitting gas on a fire that has been extinguished? It's disgusting and sociopathic, if you ask me.

You want to know the one time I would slap my own teen? If I found out that he was contributing to that fucking mess, that's when. Just in knowing that we, as a generation, have raised these kids to hold such little value and honor in other people's lives makes me physically nauseous. And what does that mean for our future as a society . . .

I clearly remember incidents when I was in middle school where the "mob mentality" would take over and 4, 5, 6 people would bully and laugh at a single person until they cried or ran away. Can is still be called a "mob" when everyone is isolated in the comfort of their own middle class rooms, sitting nicely behind a computer? Fucking cowards.

I know there has been a plea for all these mindless douchebags to stop posting negative comments about the deceased girl and to "think what they are doing." But that's just it — they do not think. They believe it's all fucking hilarious and they won't see the err of their ways for likely another 5 years to even a decade. And for the REALLY thick ones, it won't sink in until they, themselves, become parents (which is ironic considering those are the people that give me a strong "pro" argument for involuntary sterilization).

And like a broken record, I am once again expressing that this is one of the key reasons I had to resign from teaching high school. SO MANY TIMES I just wanted to kick them hard in their asses and say, "You're a fucking asshole. Don't be an asshole!" These thoughts mostly came about while I was sweeping ripped out hair that covered the floor outside my classroom from the latest fight which usually involved two (or more) 12 year old girls trying to kill each other over the affections of a 12 year old boy who's balls hadn't even dropped yet.

I realize that it's a different social climate than 20 years ago (when I was 14), but mean bullies have been around for thousands of years – it's in our human nature – not one of our more admirable traits, but there it is. Call it insecurity; call it ignorance; call it over-inflated entitlement; hell, you can even call it Darwinian, but it's always been there - it's just the medium that keeps changing and evolving, each ugly head being more hideous and cruel than the last.

These are 5 ways to defeat a bully, and all five (in one way or another) are ways I have personally done to overcome the suck ass years that we have all had to battle though:

1. Ignore them. Getting upset is what gives them a hard on. Don't give them that pleasure! They'll likely be pumping your gas in 10 years (or doing nothing but playing video games and reminiscing about how  cool they were in high school and living in the basement apartment of their parents' mansion well into their thirties), so who the fuck cares if they call you a nasty name? Let them have their moment - it might be one of the few they get in their sad, little lives.

2. Beat them at their own game. They post something about you? Post something about yourself that's even funnier. This also goes back to #1. If you cause a stink about it, it will snowball into something that will get out of control until you feel you can't breathe. They will feed on that like starving vultures.

3. Punch them in their fucking face. OK, so this is probably frowned upon the most, but I gotta say, it worked for me . . . twice. Same dude; he wasn't so bright. And he grew up to be a Minor League hockey drop out and date rapist, so really, I don't regret assaulting him for a single moment.

4. Leave. Strategically, it's not the easiest solution, but if you're simply just fed up with their douchebaggery, change schools. It's best to not make a public event about it or else it will just follow you to your next school. And obviously, having a car helps. The further you can go, the better, because assholes have spies. I moved schools twice, although it wasn't from a specific bully per se, but there were a lot of asshats that just really annoyed me.

5. Become a fabulous success. I'm still working on this one, ahem, but success as revenge is (I think) just about the best incentive/motivation to do good things in your life. Take something negative and let it be the driving force to do something positive! Rise above their stupid, juvenile bullshit and take solace in knowing that after you graduate, you will be stronger because of it. You have the choice to close that door behind you and never look back. Killing yourself accomplishes nothing. Start over with a new phase of your life and have some goddamn fun. Blog about it, for fuck's sake!

Whatever we need to do to help process the fact that we lived through the bullshit and came out the other end . . . a little dirty but still alive - kind of like when Andy escaped through the raw sewage and into the fresh water in Shawshank Redemption.

Yup, that's high school.


Yes, Whitney, exactly this.

I think a show on NBC prime time is just about thee very best way to tell your bullies that you are absolutely awesome. Everyone else can suck it!

And to all the victims and their families that have had to experience a tragic ending, my heart truly aches for you because it should never have to end like that.



Jun 7, 2012

Them's fightin' words, Jenny

Dear Jenny McCarthy, 

You have touched a nerve with me. If fact, you haven't just touched it - you have strung it out and plucked it like a bass guitar that just popped a string which then proceeded to poke me in the fucking eye. You told Howard Stern in this interview that your son still misses Jim Carrey and that you have tried numerous times to reach out to him. In addition to that statement, you added,
"...as a mother, you just hope when you have a relationship with someone, 
it has nothing to do with the child when you break up."1

Here are the top five motherfucking issues I have with this situation.

1. That's really sad that your son misses Jim, but I really wished you had kept that shit private. Why? Because you're a celebrity, ya dumb fuck. You must have known that by saying that, it would cause a shit storm of negative press - mostly towards Jim. Telling the world that you have tried to reach out to him with no avail and making him look like a heartless douchebag is a sure fine way of improving your estranged relationship. Oh, and the final part about your son being in therapy because of the estrangement was really a nice cherry on top of that steaming pile of passive-aggressive dialogue.

2. I realize that there are two sides to this story and I will attempt to cover both sides, all of which still make you look like a cunt, but in any case... although Jim is not the child's biological father, he still was present during a very impressionable time in the boy's young life (which is certainly compacted by the child's Autism). It makes me really sad and angry that Jim wouldn't attempt to keep in touch with the boy, if for no other reason than because he "should" recognize that he was, in fact, a parental figure in his life for 5 years and that it's important to maintain some form of contact for the child's sake. And because you, Jenny, now made me disappointed in Jim, that makes you suck too.

If a psychologist perhaps suggested that a clean break would be better for all of you (which is also a possibility, we can only make assumptions at this point) than why are you even bringing this shit up? Kind of brings me back to my first point about keeping this a private matter, don't you think?

3. The quote (1) that I used in my intro actually made me want to kick you, Jenny, in the coccyx. Hard. If you actually think that break-ups with spouses (or partners or whathaveyou) doesn't affect the children involved, than you are dumber than I ever could have possibly imagined. Or, if you were somehow implying that your son was "THE REASON" that you and Jim broke up, here's a slow fucking clap for just subversively admitting that to the entire world. Mother of the Year for you.

4. From the wise words of Rod Tidwell"You don't shoplift the pootie from a single mom!" But I want to revise that a bit by saying that you don't give away the pootie when your a single mom either - why? Because of the kids, especially if they happen to struggle with change!

My mother dated my step-father for 5 years and not once did he sleep over... until there was a rock on her finger. It wasn't a bargaining chip, it was because she needed to know he was committed to being a partner AND FATHER before he became a permanent presence in my life. I think that was pretty cool and responsible of my mother - and I'm sure it wasn't easy. In summary, everything you do (and who you do) affects your children. Be aware of that and accept the consequences when things don't work out - don't fucking moan about it years after the fact.

One Canadian comedian to another...


4b. How many ex-boyfriends will you expect to keep in contact with your son over the next few years? Not to mention his biological father. I would think after a while it might get confusing for the boy to keep track. I am in no way calling you a skank, but being the single mother of an Autistic son requires special considerations when introducing new men into yours and his life.

5. You are not a child that's been grounded by your parents; you're a grown woman that also happens to be very wealthy and with practically unlimited resources. If you really wanted your son to see Jim for the past TWO YEARS, you would have made it happen by now. Don't insult our intelligence and make us feel sorry for you when it's actions that always speak louder than words, my dear. You want your son to see Jim? Get on a fucking plane and ring the gawd damn doorbell.


Tumultuously yours,
Lady E



// End rant.


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I am over at In The Powder Room with a fun little quip about 
how stupid potty training is with twins... ya know... 
if you're into that kind of reading :) ENJOY!!


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1.  The Toronto Sun, Wednesday, June 06, 2012

May 14, 2012

Owning My Lame

Recently, someone I know mistook a 'tongue and cheek' comment on my twitter as a personal attack. I don't know what's more upsetting - the fact that someone I know and love took any of my hyper-dramatized rantics (yeah, I just made a new word) in place of reality, or the fact that I now know that people parooze my timeline without following me. DUDE! If I wanted cyber stalkers, I'd much prefer ones that want to have sex with me.

Just sayin'!

Oh, and one more thing...


If any of you follow me on The Twitter, you know I spew out a lot of shit - and yes, much is directed at family members - but that's the place to vent and have some fun. Take a couple steps back from our stressed out, often ridiculous lives and type out some shots... and then 10 seconds later, it's buried and gone into the Twittersphere's abyss of endless words and emoticons.

If people truly follow my tweets, you would know that out of my almost 30,000 tweets, I'd say that about 25,000 are self-deprecating. And I'm OK with that. I find it rather entertaining and I don't take any of my personal insults... well... personally.

And I don't do it because I am cool with self loathing, because I'm not. Au contraire; I think I'm awesome, but I am able to laugh at all the lame things I do and say and watch and feel.

I think people would be A LOT less susceptible to hurt feelings, and even bullying, if we could all be more self aware about our qualities and actions that are perhaps a little bit quirky. Instead of curling into millions fetal positions all across the world while we get metaphorically kicked in the nuts with words, we should laugh along with them and say, "Yeah, OK. Ya got me. I know it's lame but I love it. So. Fucking. What."

Then, what would or could they do?

Nothing.

 So, here are a few things of mine that I totally realize range from mildly lame to completely ridonk!

1. I watch Days of Our Lives AND Young & the Restless every gawd damn day.
Ask me something - whatch'you wanna know? I got your updates or back stories for the last 20 years, like an over achieving drug dealer... except with far fetched plot lines.

2. I own two pairs of Crocs and they are so fucking comfortable.

3. I also own two pairs of polyester pants - like the kind from Walmart. When I worked there and had to fold them, I laughed my ass off, thinking, "Who the fuck wears these? Some old grannies?" Yup. Now this fat granny ass fills them, and I LOVE that they have an elastic waist and they are wash n' wear.

4. I collect figurine turtles. Like... a lot of turtles. From all over the world. Or given to me by family (or even some from ex-boyfriends) Meh. They all have a story - which I've cataloged and colour coded with stickers underneath each turtle. Seriously.

5. And for the past 20 minutes, I've been balling my eyes out over the series finale of Desperate Housewives.

Yeah, OK. Ya got me. I know it's lame but I love it. 
So. Fucking. What.

Bring it on - I can take it. Yay!



Nov 4, 2011

Five More Funny F*ckrz

I haven't done a FFF for a long time, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to get caught up on five of the things that made me laugh in the last little while. Some are from ages ago that I had stumbled on while... you know... wasting time working hard.

1. Scary Mommy wrote her own version of the "Go the Fuck to Sleep" book a little while back called "Wake the Fuck Up". If you haven't checked it out, it's fantastic. Oh, and it's also highly offensive to annoying husbands, so if you're that, well... sorry.
My favorite stanza:

"I know you feel sick but I do as well
My nose is stuffy too
and my throat sore as hell
Please stop complaining
It’s just a little cold
So shut up and cope
You’re not that fucking old"


2. I have recently been turned on to Avitable and I had a few pokes around the other day and came across this, umm... photo of a turkey. Since we're pretty much 1/2 way between Canadian Thanksgiving and the American holiday (and I still have a pumpkin transformed into a turkey on my front porch that is mildly rotting) I think this is a very suitable festive link to share with all of you. 

WARNING: His nut sack had been used to create this image, but don't worry, I'm sure his balls were not harmed in any way during the making of this... art?

3. My bloggy boyfriend Lost in Idaho (we're still, like, totally getting those middle finger ring tats, just you wait) took a little visit to Preston, Idaho. Do you KNOW why that town is so damn significant? Well, I'll give you three hints: Ligers, Pedro and Lafawnduh.

Oh yes, it's where Napoleon Dynamite is from. Gosh!

Swoon, baby, swoooooon!

So, because of my love for this movie (I own a 'Vote for Pedro' t-shirt), I might be a little bias of this post, but  I think it's awesome. That is, unless you've not seen Napoleon Dynamite. If that's the case, this post won't make any fucking sense to you. Sorry.

4. The Animated Woman did a fabulous illustration last week (all of them are fabulous, but because this one is slightly deviant, I love it a tiny bit more than the others). It describes her, and most of our current feelings towards that gawd damn Klout thingamajigger. You know what I mean....

It's entitled "My KLOUToris." 
Do YOU know where it's hidding? 
Ahem.

5. This last one I came across via The Twitter. @looneytunes tweeted this link and wouldn't you know it? It's actually allowing me to embed it, so dammit, that's what I'm going to do. It's a performance by Stephen Lynch and the song is called, "What if that guy from Smashing Pumpkins lost his car keys?" Of course, referring to Billy Corgan. It's pretty fucking hilarious, especially if you happen to be a 90s grunger kid like me. There's a couple F-bombs (shocker, I know) for those of you who might be listening at work. Yeah, that.



And that brings me to the end of another edition of 5 Funny Fuckrz. If you have one that you think I've missed reading and totally feel like it deserves a shout out, please let me know. I LOVE reading good posts! I try to keep up with my blog reading, but it's pretty overwhelming at times. Twitter has become my blog reader these days. Tweet me some good shit and I'll stop by for a visit. Yay!

Have a gawd damn fantastic weekend, everyone!
MUAH.

Oct 31, 2011

Halloween Special: Zombie Dating

I thought I would organize a special, ummm, treat for Halloween. I've been having so much fun getting my readers of "the male persuasion" do a little writing over here, and this just might be the weirdest one yet. (Which  is saying a lot since I had Tim make an appearance last week. Ahem) I usually do guest posts on Wednesdays, but what the hell... it's mutherfukkin' Halloween, y'all! Oooowwwee!

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I think it's safe to say that we as humans think we have it pretty hard when it comes to dating. We bitch and moan about having the worst dates ever or doing something totally embarrassing. However, there are others out there who have it much worse than we might think... Those "others" I speak of are the race of the humble zombies, and what we might think of as a "bad" date, they see as a cake walk. 

Now to get you all in the Halloween Holiday spirit, I present to you...

Top 5 Awkward Moments In Zombie Dating: (Zombie Guy Edition)

{Photo credit: Marissa Martin}
5. Showing up to your date still wearing the same clothes you were bit in. 
(Come on, man! Just because you are a zombie doesn't mean you got to look like a slob! Dress out of that bath robe you were attacked in and put on a nice suit or something.)

4. Accidentally biting your date when you catch a human together.
(I know you hunger for the warm flesh of a human and all, but seriously! Show a little self control and let the lady have the first bite.)

3. Finding out your date is still Human.
(Your dad is going to be maaaaaaad...)

2. Getting shot right before you meet your date.
(Awww man, and you just put on that suit too!)

And, the Number 1 Awkward Moment 
In Zombie Dating: 
Having your zom-sausage fall off right before you lay some pipe.
(Worse than erectile dysfunction. You may as well just put your clothes back on and leave with your dignity.)

There you have it folks! I hope you all have a fresh new look on the world of dating now that you have seen the worse side of it all. Have yourself a Happy Halloween and be sure to read more of my stuff at Zombies Everywhere!

Oct 5, 2011

Dance, Dance, Dance

One of the writing prompts for Mama Kat's this week is to write about a slow dancing experience. Good gawd! Just one? Seriously? I can't do it -- but what I can do is a Top 10 of kerfuffles that I lived through at various dances and proms. In addition, I also can usually remember the song that surrounded any given said teenage train-wreck. Good. Fucking. Times.
10. Getting kicked in the face from some asshole that was crowd surfing... at a prom. I had a sexy L-shaped gash on my forehead which coordinated nicely with my wine-colored dress. (Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana)

9. Leaving half way through the dance to give my boyfriend a blow job behind the balcony bleachers. (I Will Always Love You, Whitney Houston) There's humming music if I ever heard it. Ahem.

8. Getting together (Everything I Do, Bryan Adams) AND breaking up with Marcus during the same night. (My Prerogative, Bobby Brown) It's definitely a record for my shortest relationship... approximately 7 songs. I never even got to feel his junk.

7. Having Justin slow dance with me was bliss in itself, and then he started squeezing my ass. I was so excited, I almost passed out from the euphoria. I thought this was it... we were finally going to hook up. Oh my god, Stephanie! Keep your fucking cool! ... Ummm... nope. He was just ridiculously drunk and ended up with some random girl that resembled a Treasure Troll later that night. (End of the Road, Boyz II Men)

6. Making out with my first 'real' high school boyfriend during the entire length of Stairway to Heaven, which I recounted in a previous post, describing how we both looked at each other, smiled and then we partook in some rather shamelessly sloppy PDA in the middle of the dance floor... for the entire 8 minute epic. It was a long time not to come up for air! One of the senior girls from the basketball team slapped me hard on the ass while yelling really loudly, "Way to go, baby skank!"

5. I was asked to dance by one of the older guys from the basketball team. I couldn't really say no, politics and what not, so off I went to the middle of the dance floor with him. As soon as he brought me close I smelled it - his fucking putrid stale body odor. Holy shit, it was noxious. Oh yes... and his giant boner poking into my pelvic bone didn't help matters much either. And the song? Fucking November Rain by Guns N' Roses, which I should mention is NINE MINUTES LONG. I decided to NOT focus on the stinky penis burrowing into my stomach and rather on not vomiting instead.

4. Upon hearing Welcome to the Jungle at our Senior Formal after about 6 Bacardi and Cokes, I located a Mike's Hard Lemonade baseball cap (its origins is still a mystery) and squeezed it over my $80 up-do and proceeded to throw myself into a drunken mosh pit. The hat didn't exactly match my velvet and satin mermaid gown... which also ripped. Classy.
*I should also mention our year was the LAST year they "legally" allowed alcohol at the formal. Oops!

3. I did mushrooms at a MuchMusic video dance party and I-HAD-A-BAD-EXPERIENCE. Lasers, dry ice, crowds of people and Marilyn Mason's The Beautiful People video did NOT mix well when hallucinating. I'm chalking that one up to a hard-earned life lesson.

2. In grade 10, the first major public appearance of myself with my latest boyfriend was at a school dance. When we started making out on the dance floor, some people were aghast and noticeably offended. As it turned out, a majority of the student body assumed we were brother and sister because we had the same last name. Nope, just coincidence, people! Nothing to see here but two completely unrelated horny teenagers. Thanks. (With or Without You, U2)

1. Slow dancing with one of the older 'jocks' that I had an unhealthy fascination with. We had both been drinking and he started to put the moves on me. I was currently in a fight with a freshly ex-boyfriend, so I was also feeling all 90210ishly vengeful and slutty. I started making out with him, feeling his sweaty upper lip smear all over my face. I thought I would have enjoyed it, but I was disgusted with his 'over enthusiastic' tongue which was like a pointy slug having a seizure in my mouth. It's important to also note that he was only 5'1". It is most likely that this night marked the turning point that began my downward spiraling and paralyzing aversion to little people. (Closer, NIN) Ugh.


And in honor of this post, I couldn't resist!


Mama's Losin' It