Category Archives: Musings and Stuff

Can I have a Triple Grande Skinny Vanilla Latte, hold the .38 special

I like fences.  Fences separate one area from another.  They establish territorial boundaries, without having to pee on a fire-hydrant.  There’s no mistaking the objective of a fence.  Just ask an inmate. 

9.0 – 9.5 – 9.2

Plus anyone can build a fence. 

The real talent is being able to sit on one.  Depending on the fence itself, it could be a balancing act worthy of an Olympic medalist.  You’re continuously one sneeze away from what I’m sure would be a very ungraceful drop, or being ousted by a giant squirrel, and my money’s on this guy. 

So congratulations to you Starbucks.  You’re the Cirque du Soleil of fence-sitting.

Starbucks has asked its customers to leave their guns at home.

How exactly did that internal memo read anyway? Something like this, perhaps


Jesus of Suburbia

A random conversation with my offspring yesterday morning…

OS: That guy’s always sitting there.

Me: Perhaps he’s Guardian of the Milk Crates.

OS: Maybe he’s waiting for Jesus.

Me: Well if Jesus ever shows up at a convenience store, you be sure to let me know.

OS: You know that even if it’s a guy that looks like Jesus, I’m still calling you.

Me: And what would he look like?

OS: You know, he floats down on a cloud, with long flowing hair, wearing sunglasses and playing a guitar.

Me: On his own personal cloud?

OS: Of course, he’s Jesus. And they’re epic aviator sunglasses like 4 sizes too big.

Me: Is he black or white? Continue reading

It takes a village idiot to raise a child

Major overcrowding

school  [skool]

Noun:  An institution for educating children, or a large group of fish or sea mammals

Personally, I’m in favour of the fish.  Fish are quiet.  You don’t have to worry about hurting a fish’s feelings.  Fish don’t have parents that whine and complain about the treatment of their offspring.  (Not to imply that all fish are bastards, just that the parental units have bigger things to fry).  Oh, and you can eat a fish.

Most importantly, a fisherman can’t be suspended for fishing, (unless of course, he’s unlicensed and/or fishing for an endangered species or something).  Whereas, if you’re a teacher working for the Edmonton School Board, you can actually be suspended for teaching.

In a bitter twist of irony, a teacher at Ross Sheppard High School was suspended last week for trying to teach his students that their actions have consequences.

Unlike when my Aunt got the strap for writing with her left hand, (the consequence of a sore palm outweighing the consequence of being burned at the stake), Mr. Lynden Dorval had the gall to give a failing grade to students who did not complete assignments.

I’ll repeat, more slowly and using smaller words.  Students that did not do their work were given a zero.

A travesty, to be sure!

According to the school board, penalizing students for not completing their work is against policy.   Read on

Air fist-pump!

There’s definitely something to be said for the validation of strangers.  Creepy, could be one way of putting it.  Perhaps a tad stalker-ish.  Unfortunately I haven’t been able to find out whether a restraining order is applicable online.  I have put a motion forward to have it addressed at my next town hall meeting.

Of course, I jest.

This is my plaque. There are many others like it, but this one is mine.

It’s the awesomest thing ever!

I have been presented with an award.   There wasn’t really a red carpet or a ceremony or anything, which is just as well because my gown is at the cleaners).  But there is a plaque!  See?

The Liebster Blog Award is a completely fictitious but no less awesome award bestowed upon bloggers with less than 200 followers, (why do I feel like I’m one of the unpopular kids all over again), by their fellow bloggers.  And I am one of its recipients.

In other words, “You like me.  Right now, you like me!”  And there is much rejoicing.

There are also rules.  This goes against my anarchist upbringing, but I shall make an exception in this case so as not to appear ungrateful.

Here they are: The anticipation is killing me!

Please don’t let them die.

Is there anything more tragic than a singer who has passed away?

I just threw up in my mouth a little.

For years, or at least a few weeks on the Billboard Hot 100, we danced and sang along and illegally downloaded their music, and then all of a sudden, (after a 5-year-long battle with Ebola), they are taken from us.  Gone to the big amphitheatre in the sky, or the mosh pit down below.  Either way, they will be sorely missed.

Or not.

Honestly, whenever I hear the news that a singer has had their final curtain call, I cringe.  I dread the weeks, months, even years to come where every other song on the radio is sung by the dearly departed, even if they haven’t had a hit single since the Bronze Age. Continue reading

While the White People Watch

Is that a club in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

I would have made a terrible feminist.  I couldn’t bear to part with my bra, let alone burn it.  Do you have any idea how expensive those things are?  Victoria’s got a secret all right, and it’s damn well going to cost you.  And even if I were tempted to jump on the flaming brassiere train, going free bird could be disastrous.  Sure, it’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye, namely me, and I can’t afford to take that kind of time off work.  Besides, we’ve made significant strides over the years.  Hell, we can even vote now.

So no, I’m not a feminist.  However, I couldn’t help but get my g-string in a knot when I learned that CBC had partnered with “While the Men Watch”, and will offer their online broadcast during the final series of the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

Described as “Sex in the City meets ESPN”, (which if you ask me should be about horse racing), this talk-show allegedly offers “alternative” sports commentary geared toward women.  With topics such as “Love me like Lundqvist: 5 Sex Games for Hockey Season” and “6 Things NOT to Say if His Team Loses”, how could any woman not tune in?  Quite easily, I assure you. I kid you not, dear reader


And in yesterday’s news…

I am not spam!

I realized yesterday that a lot of my comments on other people’s blogs are being treated as spam.  I am basing this on feedback from one follower/followee who informed me that she found my first comment in her Spam folder, (thanks Lisa – no, not you Lisa, the other Lisa).

At least, this is what I am telling myself rather than believe that they have just ignored or deleted my comment.  I have enough of that to deal with in real life, which my therapist and I are working to move past.  So, please check your spam…please…

A train conversation

I wasn’t eavesdropping.  I grabbed a seat on the train last night; they came after and sat next to me.  I’ll call one Blondie and the other The Old Lady, or TOL because I’m lazy.  This is what I was subjected to, paraphrased because my memory sucks but you’ll get the essential banality of it:

TOL:  Would you like a chocolate?

Blondie:  No thanks, I had a cupcake?

TOL:  Do you know how many calories are in those  Prairie Girls cupcakes?

Voice in my head:  Who cares?  They are a gift from the heavens.

Blondie:  Oh, I know but they are so good.  I made cupcakes last week for the girls.  I used such and such and blah blah blah (Me: tuning out) and they turned out so pretty.

TOL:  Oh yeah?  The last time I made cupcakes I added food colouring to the buttercream, and then added such and such and blah blah blah (Me: tuning out) and they were really, really pretty.

Blondie:  I don’t like buttercream.  I just find it too sweet.

TOL:  Well it’s supposed to be sweet.  And when you add food colouring it just looks so much prettier.

Voice in my head:  I never want to hear the word pretty again.

Blondie:  I can show you pictures.  (Grabs her phone and starts searching). Tell me more

%d bloggers like this: