Post from the Snowpocalypse II

I am now certain I would prefer zombies. 

If a zombie said "Well I guess those global warming people feel pretty silly now!" I would not need to stifle my exasperation. I could axe it in the face.

"You wouldn't see me working for a company that makes employees go to work in a blurricane!" You know, what with all those other jobs with the good companies floating around... Machete to the frontal lobe.

"Is Tim Horton's open?" because although you won't work for a company that expects employees to risk life and limb of themselves and first responders, you fully expect other people too, because you want a cup of really shitty coffee. *wipes brain bits off face and takes swig from flask*

"But I HAD to go to ___ activity/event/place during an RCMP order to stay off the roads! Children would have been disappointed!"  Oh, COME ON!! 

Does the part of our brain that controls arseholey behaviour get snow blindness? More snow is coming later this week. Ugh. I thought I was sick of schlepping through it and trying to get around and do stuff. That is indeed a pain in the ass. I am really, really, sick of schlepping through people's awful attitudes. 

I get complaining about the weather. Fucking look at it. Complaining is all we have. 

Please stop being dicks about people either going to work and/or staying home. Choosing to stay open or to close is never an easy decision for employer or employee. Especially for small local businesses or franchises. Someone will always think that if they want something then it must be "essential".

Regardless of what you think you know about labour code, many employees don't have the choice to stay home without fear of penalty. Call centers are a nightmare about this. The decision to stay home, may not cost  your job but it could mean the difference between a Monday to Friday day shift and working 3:30pm to 11pm for three months, with Tuesday and Wednesday off.

Many employers that do allow their staff to stay home face backlash from pissed off customers. Don't be part of the reason why they have to go to work. You stay home. And while you are there, don't decide a snow day is a great day to call local businesses because you have time. Don't call for take-out.

We get the head's up on these storms a week ahead of time. Make at least a half assed attempt to have stuff you need on hand. "But my special snowflake wants McDonald's" is a stupid, stupid reason to go out and a selfish ridiculous reason to encourage employers to stay open during bad weather. 

Winter is HERE. Grab your #stormchips, gird your loins, and if you cannot do anything to make the snowpocalypse easier for the  people around you, don't go out of your way to make it harder. 

Posting From Hoth, Snowpocalypse 2015

I wish I had an epic story of survival or tales of neighbors overcoming racism and helping each other out. Nay. 

My Snowpocalypse has been more schlepping to work and having to hurl myself into the snow banks to avoid death. 

We have had an official metric shit tonne of snow. Sidewalks are not a priority. There are no sidewalks anymore. There is snow. Lots of fucking snow. Too much snow for a human sans a ton-ton to try and wade through. Too much snow for any reasonable person to expect another reasonable person to walk in, that is certain. 

It is a damn shame that people in motorized vehicles are apparently completely unreasonable. I am not sure if it is proof that there is, or isn't, a God that my prayers of instant fishtailing into an explosion were not answered each time I nearly died today. There would have been 9 victims today. I counted.

Maybe if the cars were the size of AT-ATs  and I really was a hostile armed rebel I would understand better why drivers are trying to kill me.

Anyway thank you for not hitting me I guess. It has been a few years since I rolled around in snow banks, especially not in business casual attire. So you know, that was something. 

Supposedly we are getting another 25-30cm over the next day or so. 

 I don't have time for snowballs and I don't have any scrappy dare-devil friends to help me rig trip wires. There will be eggs in my purse tomorrow. You have been warned. 

Hey You! Get Off Of My Wall!

When did people just stop even trying to come up with  a Facebook status. I think there is a group of idiots who don't even look at any other page on the Internet. They just keep checking the same Facebook pages for crap to share.

They don't care if they are sharing it from someone who has 85 mutual friends so now you are gifting them with the same crap they already saw. Look at the likes and comments.... same people loving everyone. They don't care that they posted the same mangled out of context quote in mauve on their own page last week... That makes it an oldie but goodie, classic if you will.

       If a man you met 3 weeks ago really loves you he will love you more if bash out the windows of his truck crying & swearing in broad daylight wearing sponge bob jammie pants & no bra because your a bad bitch  

ooooo I totes <3 this one soooooo true lmfao!!!! xoxxo luv you gurl!!!!!!! You tell that prick

FUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

get this shit off my feed!!!!!!!!

The worst is when otherwise intelligent people succumb and all of a sudden a reasonable person has sunsets with Deep Thoughts captioned in on them and profound messages like  "Your children love you"  "Evil is Bad"  .... ummm d'uh.

Who the hell even came up with doing this? I figure it was a project in a women's divorce support group that went horribly awry (for the rest of us).  I think it was a half assed attempt to help them get in touch with their immaturity and stop making such shitty decisions. 

I picture a well meaning lady with big chunky jewellery and comfortable shoes telling a group of resentful bitter women who frankly just went their hoping to find divorced men, to take quotes and images out of old Cosmo magazines and use  construction paper and glitter to make a pain collage then share it with the group. 

Then they all cried and agreed that nothing is or ever will be their fault and they just need large glasses of wine and a book club and no more men who expect them to wear pants in public and not cry constantly and hey lets take pictures of our collages and upload them to Facebook to help women everywhere!!!

I hate those women.

Wall Abusers ...Click to Read..and share :P

The Serenity to Change the Things I Cannot Accept

I gave up one time and in desperation tried to recite the Serenity Prayer, thinking maybe it would help. Like a mantra, just a moment of calm in a sea of chaos.  I wanted to focus on inner calm before I freaked the fuck out and started running in circles on my side on the floor like a Stooge. I may or may not have been drunk.

Of course, being myself, I fucked it up from Go by asking for the serenity to "change the things I cannot accept" instead of the normal person's "accept the things I cannot change".

I decided that since I forgot the rest and am not actually in a program I would stop right there (the prayer not the drinking. Never the drinking) and go with it. In MY program that is step one. Calm the fuck down and make things change. The second step is Smile and Like It. It is fine to absolutely hate the situation you are in but you can't let it make you miserable. At some point something about your life was attractive and you wanted it and decisions were made to get there, so at THIS point there has to be some things that are still  worth being happy about, you may have just forgotten what they are. Go find them, I'll wait.

Basically 1 + 2 = settle down, take long hard look at what is good, smile and enjoy the hell out of it every chance you get and start rearranging the rest.

Admittedly I am a bit of a whack job but even as a hormonal cunt  teenager I found that ripping your primary living space apart, purging the crap and putting it together again was a way more effective way of exerting control over my life than bulimia. Still is to this day. Full circle peeps. I am once again a hormonal cunt at a crossroads in life where decisions must be made and things must be done.

I can't accept a soul sucking mind numbing bastard of a job, that is technically a "good" job for the rest of my life so I made a plan, schemed like  a mother fucker, actually paid bills and saved money and now, instead of being fired for missing work because my life is ridiculous (kids,migraines, assorted nonsense) I was able to beg for a seasonal lay off and get it and be able to not be up shit creek while I wait to see if things take off. And if I prove I cannot support myself by legal means, I have the job waiting for me.

Or I will say goodbye forever to working for someone else, open a bawdy house and call it La Palais Des Palourdes.  I still have a few months to decide for sure.  

My Favorite Drug

In many cultures supposedly a period of good luck plentiful harvests and what have you is followed by a shorter nasty period where you have to prove you deserve another good harvest or few more sons whatever. Feast or Famine. Its nature. And its predictable. The wheel of fortune slowly rotates sometimes your at the top and sometimes not.

Except in my world the wheel of fortune is about 6 inches in diameter. There is not 3 YEARS of plenty let alone 3 months. Also it's axle is broken and mice get stuck in it and die sometimes and the whole thing jams until ol' Opie pokes em out with a broom handle. Then it goes to fast for a bit and needs to be taken apart and put back together. Stupid old technology and non union labor. I can only afford workers unburdened by excess paperwork.

For example on a Tuesday I find out the Government owes me a thousand dollars. Nice chunk of change, big help with Christmas. Then on Thursday I will get fired.  The wheel goes up the wheel goes down.  

It never ever ends.

The challenge is not just in coming up with new jobs or playing daily games of find the money to feed the children it is in keeping from giving up and still being able to find joy and laugh at least twice a day.  

The saying don't sweat the small stuff is a good saying but I think it devalues the small stuff. If I didn't balls out rejoice when any little thing went my way ($5 still in bank account day before payday WHOO HOOO!) there would be very little rejoicing. On the other hand if I had a bird over every slightly less than good thing I would be a heavily medicated ward of the state by now. 

On that note I have to admit that I have been taking heavy doses of Fuckit for years. It makes a big difference. Also, when on Fuckit you have to keep your eyes forward and keep looking beyond the present. If you have a destination, even a vague one, its is so much easier to ignore the stupid crap that slows you down. It is also easier when taking Fuckit to take the time to enjoy the fun stuff that happens on the way. Beware the less potent generic Screwit. That's how people end up on a couch with a can of baccy and bag of cheetos for twenty years. 

So my sick time is used up and my daughter insists she is sick and keeps falling asleep and running a fever just to prove her point. The people I know who are not working right now are either sick themselves, home with babies & oddly not willing to bring them over or don't work because they are just not fit for much of anything and I will leave my kid there when you leave yours. 

Here is where the Fuckit starts working on my brain and body. Fuckit says you know what? She's sick and too young to be home alone, worst case you get fired. The rules say missing time to care for a dependent can get you employment insurance. So worst worst case you get fired from a job you hate and you can have some support while you find something else. But Christmas is coming. Fuckit says fuck it, the kids will do fine and its not about the presents. Fuck it says your kids will just be happy your home. Fuckit lets you relax and encourages air to enter your lungs. It takes away the myheadisfloatingoffmybody feeling of panic and gives some clarity of thought. Fuckit opens windows when doors close. In extreme cases it is the Fuckit that has people chew off their own limbs to keep on truckin. 

But I need two arms! Fuckit says fuck you, you need to get the hell out of here and something to eat wouldn't hurt! nom nom nom....

So here I am, full of Fuckit and ready for anything. Wish me luck.

BAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm not sure if what I have is a writer's block so much as there is too much in my brain and when it comes out it sucks because it is written in haste at odd hours. The kids have been lurking around like Igors with ADHD. It is very difficult to maintain control of precious IT resources. Finding a quiet spot with flat surface is like finding horcruxes. You would think I was sneaking around looking for some porn and a wank in the middle of the day. 

No! I want to write about other people sneaking around for wanks goddammit! Is that really so wrong?

See those words up there? Took me an hour and a half. 90 minutes gone just like that. Talk about the  blue balls! Try not being able to complete a thought for 90 minutes. Just as you start forming the bubble it gets promptly popped. AND, oh joy, you get told a scintillating disjointed "story" about the sink the cat and some nail polish. I mean, I love being a Mommy!

I'm serious I do. I just tend to keep the bloody obvious things, like loving my children, mostly to myself. The excrutiating minutiae of parent hood is boring to everyone not related by blood or in the room at the moment of grossness/cuteness. Why can't you just raise your kids and if you want your friends to like and enjoy them bring them around! Show us the baby! We love seeing babies! Love babies, hate crap. 

Facebook is being plagued by one of those copy me statuseses, about blah blah had a baby in  me then it came out and puked on me and I'm all proud I love not sleeping and shit on the sheets makes me happy my greatest accomplishment is one that every female mammal from weasels to Snookie does at some point in their lives yay me my stretchy twat and ability to lactate are martyrs for the species!!! <3 <3 :D!!!... piss off.

I have issues with these things. First of all if you can't come up with your own status just skip it. Second, don't judge/threaten me that if I don't post poorly written twaddle as my status it means I pee on the terminally ill and keep my kids tied to their beds. Third, if you are worried that people on your list eat babies and punch mentally challenged people in the face or smoke at cancer patients, why don't you just delete the jerks instead of boring the rest of us? Why are these assholes your friends?

Why are all those hateful people on your list in the first place? Oh wait a minute, I get it. You sanctimonious cunt, you think your better than the rest of us because you publicly posted that you love sponge bathing the homeless while breastfeeding adopted mentally challenged lesbian twins! I see how you are.

I have to go now. The light of my life and meaning of my existence is trying to leave the house dressed like a trans-gendered prostitute. SO CUTE!! :) <3!!!!!

The Friendly Skies

Soooo about that airline industry then. I did my time. Employee, passenger, critic. I've done it all. I have heard the stories from all sides. I LIVED it. I still have flash backs, tics and rage issues.


I once located a lost Mexican in the Vancouver (YVR) airport from my desk across the country in Saint John (YSJ). He was joyfully reunited with a seriously freaked out exchange student hostess. I got a letter that got pinned to a bulletin board. One day all the letters got taken down with no warning. An anonymous employee put up a small sign.


All Commendations Are Suspended Until Office Morale Improves.

The sign stayed up for a surprisingly long time. Employees thought "that sounds about right." The managers assumed one of their own did it and Boy,  what a great motivational quote! They probably had post it notes and wall plaques made.


On more than one occasion I put my headset down on my desk and wept. It is not as sad as it sounds, I was not alone. At any given time at least two people were having some kind of breakdown or getting pregnant  to get some time off.


Same shit every day. No empowerment, over worked Leads who had minimal empowerment and customer service managers who locked themselves in offices surrounded by travel posters and flat out refused to talk to customers. It was almost fun to try and ask them too. The look of fear was exquisite.


One of them thought he was awesome and tried put red and blue pin stripes on his giant white car. Not sure exactly how the police may have found out but apparently they think that's weird and worth a visit. Something about "impersonating and officer of the law" or something.


A "female" csm used to wear amazing black pantyhose with small white schnauzers on them. Pretty much sums up her personality, strange, unattractive and sweat inducing.


Once while many of you were waiting 84 minutes and up on hold I was pulled of the phone into the general manager of the call center's office, for a total of about 20 minutes. I had a sweater on the back of my chair you see, that bothered him. Did I mention that 18 of those minutes were me waiting out side his office to be seen? Like a kid at the principal's office. MMMM dignified. When he finally opened his door the round headed bastard had forgotten why he called me in. That is some good management right there. Hope you liked the hold music. 


Once, again during peak season with 50 minute hold times I was asked in all seriousness to account for approximately 4 minutes of time in "Not Ready" 2 and half years before. I don't know, I was peeing? Screaming into my own lap? Bashing my  head of the desk? Writing a futile request for a manager to please for the love of God call this guy who's baby we lost en route to Dulles International, at least give him a voucher or something for a new one.


What you don't realize is the poor bastards you are abusing about shit they have absolutely no control over, like the apparently "headache inducing" colour of the upholstery,  are going to bat for you every day over things like safety and getting your requests right and yes, even trying to find ways to save your cheap ass a few bucks. That letter and coupon for fifty bucks you got? Blow jobs. Someone took it in the face to get you that. Hope you feel good.


99% of airline employees do not agree with making customers fend for themselves. If only so they don't have to hear your incessant whining.  The other 1% have specific customers in mind whom they would like to see pay $3500 to be duct taped to a wing with a bowl of soup for lunch.


You realize that when the corporation made you the customer cart your own bag around and print your own tickets and pack your own lunch that real people with lives and kids and dogs wound up unemployed right? And the "lucky" ones who got to stay get split days off random shifts and the pleasure of strapping on a head set and being told what lazy shit heads they are all day.


The thing is they know, I know and you know that the fun, easy part of flying is being take n away by penny pinching companies that suck the life from the customers and front line employees while rewarding themselves with big fat bonuses.


I got a bonus once working with the airline. It was a Bulk Barn gift basket with a bottle of screw top wine. This was the mid 90s before the wineries started being eco friendly and dropping the use of corks. I felt screwed. Still drank it, and may or may not have had a friend drive me to the office to puke in the parking lot at 3 a.m. I admit nothing. 


I know a million different things make flying suck. There eleven different levels of pure fuckery to deal with and in the end you are tired bedraggled and broke. But you know what? Take the bus from St. John's to Fort McMurray and see how happy optimistic rested and on time you are at the end of it.

You Want Crude, I Will Give You Crude

When did all prices become negotiable? Since when is it cool to go around asking everyone for handouts?

Do people stroll over to the counter at the Gap, $100 sweater in hand and say " Don't you realize the price of sheep is at $20 a head? I'm just not paying this much for a wool sweater. You're going to have to do better than that if you want MY business."

Would you call a prostitute from the bar, "this bitch here is about to give it up for three drinks and taxi fare, what can you do to me, for less, I want it cheap or I wont be coming on you?"

People call their gas/oil companies all the fucking time and say things like "Osama bin Laden is dead and all those foreign people should be grateful and Nancy Grace said if there is justice then oil should be free and I KNOW that the price of that crude is cheaper now. I'm not paying that!"

Fine. But what about the oil and natural gas that is produced in North America? Huh smarty pants? That's still just as expensive as the foreign oil but not half as well travelled. You are correct, the price of crude oil has indeed gone down. Go ahead, I hear you. It has. Yeehaw. Means nothing. Tuna could be free but your local sushi joint will still charge you for it and they don't even have to heat it up. The crap you're buying to make your stuff go is not going to see a buck anything a gallon anytime soon. The price of shipping it, refining it storing it and delivering it has not budged a cent. Period. Its just not happening.
 
Oil companies don't send Indiana Jones with some cash and a boat over to Iraq to buy some barrels from a shady guy in a bazaar, haggle over a hookah load the barrels onto a camel cart back to the boat, plunk it on the boat, get it home and start throwing it in peoples' tanks. A few things, expensive things, have to happen first.

Just believe me when I say you don't want a barrel of crude oil. No more than you would want a sheep. That is the trouble with raw materials. They need to be cooked, they poop or bite or, whatever. Even if you did manage to procure a barrel of crude what would you do with it? Google home refining kits? Talk to your buddy who did real good in chemistry? Set up a little something in the shed? Why not, You made some damn good wine in there last summer!

You know what? Fuck it. Go buy a sheep some shears and some knitting needles. Go buy a barrel of crude a hose and a lighter.  Do what you have to do but please by all that is holy just shut up.

I Hope This Call Was Recorded

In the name of balance, yin & yang, or because I'm a Libra, I feel I must visit another side of this topic.

I avoid calling ANYWHERE like the plague. In fact, given the choice and modern antibiotics I would probably take a bit of the ol' bubonic over the 7 minutes it will take to navigate an IVR (interactive voice response for those of you not in the know) get to the agent and get whatever it is done.

Let us discuss the IVR. The person who came up with this is a bastard. A partially deaf bastard. I live in Canada. You cannot have a voice response system that does not understand French last names. (Yeah that one is for you Scotiabank). Plus, the whole reason companies have voice recognition is belittling. They are assuming we can't listen to options and press appropriate buttons.Oh, never mind. How many times have I been freaked out at by someone who pressed whatever they felt like then had to be transferred? Still, don't be cheap with the software or people like me will just bail on you. 

Usually by the end of 4 minutes the system bitch is talking to me like I'm the idiot "You seem to be having difficulties I will HAVE to transfer you to an agent" while I am going completely ballistic trying to pronounce my mother's insanely common last name every way possible. Really. The customer should not have to go through this. 

"Laliberte" "I'm sorry I did not get that can you please repeat your mother's maiden name" "LA LEE BEAR TAY" " For security purposes please repeat your mother's maiden name" "Lallybertie?" "I'm sorry I did not understand can you please say your mother's maiden name" "LA FUCKING LIBERTEEEE!!!!!!!!! AAAHHHHHHHHH" "You seem to be experiencing difficulties hold while I transfer you to an agent who may be able to assist you"

I always wonder if management gets to listen to that part of the call. Usually once I get a person I'm all calm and sweet. I would love to be in the room while the suits get an earful of every curse word known to man and God and everyone else's name taken very very vainly.

Like come on, really? Way to set up the employees and customers for a wonderful interaction. Thank you. Seriously, that was sooo worth the cut to our pension and a price increase. And the the calls generated by the price increase that end up in the IVR and are so fun for the employees to deal with that in the end the attempt to keep people from having to talk to the people to cut costs ends up increasing absenteeism and the company ends up having even angrier customers and has to give coupons or credits and more employees stress out and benefits has to pay out more for sick time and happy pills and alcohol rehab.

I don't know ANYONE who works at a call center and does not either drink, take anti-depressants, self medicate, emotionally over-eats, is religiously "eccentric", obsessively controls every other aspect of their lives or is just a big weirdo. Oddly there are a lot of people with skin conditions too. Or at least ones that flare up once they start taking calls. Its a petrie dish of mental illness. Grad students and journalists should be going undercover in these places.

This is why it always stuns me when I have to make a call and get someone fabulous. It stuns me even more when I call a company more than twice and get excellent customer service. It makes me all warm and fuzzy. I want to say "I feel your pain, I know you are dying inside with every call you take, I'm sorry I had to do it, I tried online, nothin, help me and I will tell your manager you're good."

I do it too. Telus, Shaw, and PC Mobile are companies I deal with on a regular regular basis and get consistently great service. Their people know please AND thank you, BOTH! Some, even say "may I". Call me old fashioned but I heart manners. I really really do. Also, none of these companies have EVER screwed up my billing. Ever. In YEARS!

Telus blows me away when I talk to an agent and they find me a way to save money. Out of the blue the rep will go " If I do this you can save however much a month want me to go ahead?". Then even crazier, my billing doesn't go all stupid for six months after that. Really, it all falls into place even if its in the middle of the billing cycle they actually do the math, correctly, and I have heard that if they do fuck up, THEY FIX IT!!!!!!

Now mind you I may have had to do unsavory things to actually get past the IVR to speak to these people but let's not dwell on that and by golly it was worth it.

I really do send emails or talk to supervisors or tell the agent right then that they were awesome. Maybe they think its a suck up so they put "nice lady" and not "evil hag" in the remarks field of my account but I don't care, I think they deserve a bit of recognition. We all know its shit work. You who are arseholes on either end of the phone know it. You KNOW what you do, and hopefully understand that no matter what prayers you say Hell's ironic punishment department is working overtime to get the place ready for you, and buddy who invented the IVR. You should see what they have cooked up for HIM!

Done With the Minor Leagues

Back in March I was OK with the minor changes that had taken place in my body since I started making an attempt at eating and generally being well. WELL. I'm not okay with minor anymore.

I am taking full responsibility for having been a total sloth. I tried, sure. I tried. In a most half assed way. I got on my Wii yesterday for the first time since I weighed myself on March 9.

I did the body test and am 2 pounds heavier than I was last time. I am also physically 48. I know some pretty sexy 48 year olds. Its too bad I know damn well they are not who Fucky the balance board is talking about. Bitches. OLD bitches.

Considering my exercise has been dog walks around the neighbourhood and occasional jaunts around Lily Lake, I guess I am lucky I did not gain back the entire 8 lbs. I have been using weights and doing arm stuff but that is only because I noticed my armpit fat and near died of shame. ARMPIT fat. Say that to yourself a few times and see how you feel. I've got some un fucking lovely lady lumps let me tell you. You want boobs? I have a them around the circumference of my torso. Bon apetit.

So here's the deal, I'm getting my body back if I have to pry if from the chocolate coated clutches of the Dark Lord himself. I am starting a project.

I subscribe to a few magazines. My favorite is Real Simple.

I'm going to throw myself into LIVING the magazine. At the end of another couple months I will see if I have made my life and my body better or wasted a colossal amount of time. I am pretty sure I will be dragging the people around me into this. There is NO WAY I will be able to test all this stuff out on my own, I hope no one kills me before I see some results.

The official start day will be Sunday May 1. I will be doing the prep work today, starting with grocery shopping. This is going to be really weird as I will be using a list. Already, for something supposedly Real Simple, taking the time to find a pen, paper, figure out what you have and then actually bringing the list to the store AND looking at it sounds like a tremendous amount of extra work. I usually take a more random and drunk approach. Hate grocery shopping.

In the mean time I am going to eat a giant piece of my Grandmother's chocolate skor, amazing cake and go to sleep.

This Call May Be Recorded

I have worked in the worlds most hateful profession for almost 14 years. Being a customer service agent you learn a lot about people. You learn many things about the world in general, especially if like me you have had the dubious pleasure of working in a few different industries.

The first thing you learn is that racial stereotypes exist for one specific reason, those people actually exist, behave that way, and I know you're going to ask, yes, I can tell over the phone because people tell you things. Or have very obvious names.

I don't know how many times I have thought to myself "if this call were recorded it would be very very bad for the (insert group here)". Every time a woman smugly hands the phone to her husband to try and get what she wants I really do feel like asking him to please slap this bitch and I will do whatever they want.

Or men who will try and bully you, treat you like a complete idiot, argue every little thing and get belligerent  and actually physically threaten you when you have to follow whatever process. I live in a small city, I would love to go into the businesses of some of these fucking assholes be a complete pain in the ass and flip right the fuck out as only a pissed off Atlantic Canadian Woman can.

I have at times been tempted to say "Yeah COME GET ME"  and then what? I dunno. They just make me so mad!

I have learned that people are never satisfied. This is universal.The seat is on the aisle but its not on the bulkhead. My cup is plastic I want a real glass. The ocean view is only nice at day time at night its all black. I bought this over there but they aren't open can you give me my money back. The red cross took us to a hurricane shelter thats not on the beach, my vacation was supposed to be on the beach. I breached my contract and now want you to still honor your part, no not like that, my way.

Seriously people? The bulkhead hits the ground first. You can't have a glass because it can break then terror happens. You asked for ocean view, I am sorry you did not realize it does not light up at night so you can see it. No, just NO my God what's wrong with you? The beach is trying to kill you right now, trust the Red Cross and shut up. Look up contract in the dictionary, blow yourself, then call me back.

People are very cavalier about their lives. They really have no clue. I don't know how people think planes fly but they seem to think NOT taking off in a screaming blizzard, is just plain stupid. Why would you complain about de icing a plane? Should we just not do it to save time? Last time I checked it takes even longer to find a crashed plane. Best sit next to someone frail yet tasty looking.

Also seasons are called seasons because they happen at the same time and do the same things every year. It is actually a very convenient system. Useful for planning stuff. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, Hurricane, Monsoon, High, Low etc. Insurance is offered for a reason but no policy covers stupid.

If you are a Canadian, lived in Winnipeg all your life and only take 3 days off to try and get across the country December 23rd and return on the 26th to be at work that night, you should be stripped of citizenship.

I wish we could out these bastards. Most of them are repeat offenders and I am betting that they think they are all that and a bag of chips. I wish I could get their Facebook profiles and use their profile pic to create  rogues gallery of ass clowns. Or send out cards that have a picture of a turd on it that say "This is you". 

At Christmas when people of all colours and beliefs come together to abuse the shit out of anyone in the service industry the cards would say "You made Baby Jesus cry. Enjoy your purchases... in HELL"

Like Shiny Blue Maracas

No really. I don't know weather to shit or go blind. But not in a good way like I'm choosing between red or white wine. Its bad. I had cleaning attack that lasted a few hours then petered out when I ran out of Bailey's for my coffee.

I sort of cleaned my house but for every space that was purged another now has a ginormous pile of crap in it. I just want to sit and relax and everywhere I turn there is something out of place to drive me crazy.

I have a punch bowl that I keep my crochet junk in. Well, there is going to be some punching alright. Why can't my god damn bowl of fuzzy yarn look like Martha fucking Stewart's assholey bowl of yarn? GGGGRRRRRRRRR

Look at it. Sitting there all not cute.

                                             
                                   I'm sorry Saint Martha I still love you please don't cancel my subscription!...you NEVER know who's reading!!!!

I had a coupon for a case of beer that combined with the store special gave me $5 off. Sweet. There is nothing that makes me happier than applying my philosophy of never paying full price for anything to booze. 

Turns out the deal was not all that sweet. Turns out it was for a case of cans. It also turns out that I'm a snob and don't like cans. I appreciate that they float and can be shot-gunned. That is all.

However, I wanted to feel like I got a bargain on something and they were cans of my favorite so I bought the case anyway. And an very enjoyable white from Pelee Island Winery that was actually over $11 because of the beer savings. So 12  beer and a bottle of wine for under $30 and both Canadian. That was the last of the good news.

Since it is March and not a good time for tubing on the Miramichi (HEAVEN btw) or at a grubby after party I went to the freezer because I aways keep A&W root beer mugs in there. Thinking that a frosty mug will make canny beer a bit better.

I dropped the damn mug on my foot. Do you know how heavy those bastards are? Like ohmygod. I did the Peter Griffin on my kitchen floor. You all know exactly what I mean. On my ass gripping my foot inhaling deeply through clenched teeth. SHHHHHHHHSSSSSSHHH then pain releasing exhale, AHHHHHAAHHHHHHH. Then repeat.

Let us not discuss why I am up and already out of liquor and into the beer at 11am on a Tuesday.

Pants Pretty Pretty Please

If I wish men would wear real hats and start acting a wee bit more civilized, I really really wish hope and pray that women would put on proper bottoms and do the same.

Not to throw women's lib back into the Feminine Mystique or anything, no need for corsets and petty coats, but it sure would be nice to not see a bunch of slovenly hags in pajama pants and fake Ed Hardy bags polluting the scenery.

How do I know the bag is fake? Someone who can spend the money for a real bag can also afford pants. We are not here to debate Ed Hardy's dubious status as a "designer" vs. meth-smoking bedazzler.

In theory when you get up in the morning you should be putting on fresh clean panties. So if you had on pajamas you would need to take them off to put on your underwear. Is it really that fucking difficult once you are standing there bare legged to put on something other than the same pajama bottoms you had on last night? OR if you are standing there in your skivvies why in hell would you dig out a fresh pair of pj pants instead of putting on a real garment meant for the out doors?

I Gave Myself Blue Balls

Well this just sucks. I don't even know what happened but the past week and a half I'm like a cat that someone put cat repellent on. I'm utterly sick of myself but I wont go away and leave me alone. Its very frustrating. Even the expression on my face is irritating. Like a smashed asshole.

I am blaming my hair. 

Its nice to have something to blame other than my self and my assholey face. My hair. It has had a distinct personality for as long as I can remember. I think it started to really get out there and do its own thing quite young. It was rebelling, and rightfully so, from my Mother's afro puffs on the top of my head and my Grandmother's copious amounts of spit to make kiss curls on my cheeks.

They even had a poem.

There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good
She was very very good
But when she was bad
She was horrid.

Blatthhhhh. Still makes me gag.

Dear "Doctor"

If you are a Doctor, that’s fabulous for you. How the hell that pertains to your reservation, account, service or appointment I do not know, but unless you are currently massaging someone’s heart I don’t see why I should have to call you Doctor or go out of my way for you. Woo hoo you can save lives, you’re kind of a dick. Six year olds know please and thank you. 

Phd you say? I should call you what now? Oh Hell no, Brainy Smurf. If you spent 12 years in school yet can't cut people open or prescribe drugs well, bully, that’s right Bully, for you. I'm not calling you Doctor. The years you spent in school mean nothing to me. Much like the topic of your thesis to the world at large. Which is why you are flying coach, in arrears and so stressed you need to see a real Doctor for some pills you can’t prescribe.

So your husband is a Doctor. Lovely for you I'm sure the wedding was divine. Not sure what that has to do with anything but congratulations anyway. I'm terribly sorry but I did check and there is no policy of allowing Doctors carte blanche to do what they want regardless of safety or consideration for others. I KNOW! I was floored. Would you like me to explain that to him? Oh, he's at his office. I see, well perhaps if you were still his nurse/secretary you would be at the office too having sex with him in a supply closet like whey you first met instead of home doing his busy work.

Lost in the Supermarket

That is the title of a great song by the Clash. Formed the year I was born they are fucking great. The song is a great example of early blue balls of the soul in popular culture. Like many great songs representative of their generation it was used in a popular children's movie, in this case Paramount's Over the Hedge.

I think I have too many options. There are so many fantastic offers of new and exciting things to do, to buy and to experience that I start thinking very generically. There is actually so much to do that I shut down and do the entertainment equivalent of grabbing a frozen pizza and getting the hell outta there.

It like a panicky little screech in my head (not the calm mellow voice I'm used to)
AHHHHITSFRIDAYAFTERWORKANDIMFUCKINGSTARVINGANDTHEREAREALLTHESE
PEOPLEHEREANDCRYINGKIDSNADITSHOTANDTHEREARESOMANYTHINGSANDALL
THEINGREDIENTSFORANYTHINGARE8AISLESAWAFROMEACHOTHERANDFUCKTHISSHIT
IHAVETOPEEWHATDOIGETWHATDOIGETWHYISMYCELLPHONERINGINGAHHHHHH
Like that. Its how all my grand plans for delicious homemade pizza with chicken or sun dried tomatoes turn into  McCain's Delicios.

I'm well aware I also do the same thing with men. I have a clear idea of what I want, how I want to improve on the ingredients this time for a better relationship soup. But no. I get cold. Or bored. Or sometimes a holiday comes around and I want a present, the liquor store has a sale and maybe I get just a little panicky so I grab whatever is cheap and easy.

Bustin a Metaphorical Nut

Today I am the personification of blue balls of the soul. I don't know what I want. Can't sit still. Keep wandering from room to room and picking shit up and moving it around. I don't want company but I'm not even getting along with my self. I'm totally annoyed by everything.

Seriously if the cat looks at me like that again I'm punching it in the face. Ya you heard me! I will SO throw downwith PETA just for shits and giggles. Where the hell did I stash those baby seals...

Ok, not really. You get that I'm not going to punch the cat I hope. Well, I guess if you don't you have found the right blog to get your panties in bunch, if a righteous snit is what you're looking for. Satisfying as it would be right now to duct tape the yowly one's mouth I wont. I am going to PETA hell already for using the incisors I was given by evolution for tearing flesh for sustenance, I'm not pushing my luck on kittens and baby seals. Teenage seals are way more delicious.

HA! K, I'm done now. I know I will way too lazy tomorrow to sit down and seriously defend myself and talk about my real and quite boring, beliefs about animal rights. RIGHT TO BE DELICIOUS!!!  oh God I can't stop!

I'm going to go settle down for a bit and see if I can't come back later and act right.

I'm not making any promises.