Risky Business

I am so goddamn tired right now, it is not even the slightest bit amusing. I'm talking tired. Fucking tired. I went to bed at the reasonable hour of 11:00. I was drunk. I woke up at 4:30am cause I had to pee. There was no turning back after that. I could not get back to sleep. It was totally bush league!

At about 5am I decided that I couldn't just sit there anymore. I went for a walk around the neighborhood. I came back at 5:30am. Tried to sleep again. Didn't work. Finally gave up at 6:30am and started to get ready. Left for work early and walked halfway. Still showed up half an hour early.

This leads me to my current situation: tired as all get out and feeling a little like I died 3 times. I NEED SLEEP.

Lesson learned. Don't drink on motherfucking Wednesdays. That shit is Friday's bitch, and Friday is vengeful.

PS: I am an idiot.

GOOOOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's kind of how I feel like greeting people this morning, but I have managed to keep in check and instead offer the much more professional versions ("Good morning", "Hey", "Hi", "Yo", "Word up, homie".)

ANYWAYS, so something sort of crazy happened to me on the way to work this morning which resulted in me making a poor judgement call and giving in to what may become a severe addiction problem. Here is a transcript of an actual email that I sent to my homies this morning. (Note the time, which is way too early for this kind of enthusiasm.)

From: Sarah
Sent: Wednesday, August 23, 2006 9:14 AM
To: Amanda; Dave; Craig
Subject: RE: There was something else in the subject line before but I changed it cause I can.

Woot! Hey, funny story... I got coffee again this morning because my bus driver didn't stop at Broadway despite people repeatedly yelling at him to let us off the bus... and he drove over the damn bridge... so then I had to walk to the other side to catch another bus back the other way... and then that bus let me off around the corner from the coffee shop... so then I figured "If I'm here ANYWAYS..." so then I got a coffee. For the 3rd day in a row. So ANYWAYS... after telling this story to Platypus he looked at me, kinda laughed nervously and said "Yeah. I can tell you've already had some." Apparently I talk like, reeeeeeealy fast and get a little jumpy and stuff when I have been caffeinated. Then I was telling him about how excited I am about Nearly Neil and I actually jumped up in the air. I think I am starting to scare people.

PS: If I had been telling you this story in person, can you imagine how I would have said it? Probably really fast without stopping to take a breath. CRAZY.

So basically, the point is that I have NEVER had coffee 3 days in a row before and I am concerned because I totally don't want to get addicted! But it is so yummy. But it makes me crazy. Anyone who knows me can probably imagine what I would sound like if I were actually saying this out loud right now. This means talking really fast and making lots of hand gestures and my eyes get a little big and glazed over. I think it scares people. They are like, "Okay... she is either going to start doing a dance or she is going to kill me. Could go either way."

But I honestly feel like I could run a friggin marathon right now. WOOOOOO! I'm sorry.

If you were smart, you would take my picture to all the coffee shops in the surrounding area and instruct those bitches to only give me decaf. (But please don't! I love it.) BAH!

To all those who must interact with me today: I'M SORRY!!!

PS: I should have mentioned that when I got off the bus on the other side of the bridge I said out loud (to myself) "Man, this is bush league!"

If you want to sing out, sing out...

As Jess knows well, I love to sing along when I am listening to music. It is so insanely fun. I can barely stand it. Any song will do. As long as I know the words, we're in business. Even some of the words will do.

Lately, this has become my greatest source of 100% pure comedy. (None of that 95% crap here, folks.) I have decided that there is nothing funnier than when people are singing along to lyrics that make absolutely no sense for them to sing. Prime examples:

• When my mom sings that System of a Down song about the angels and the crying and whatnot. (It's called "Chop Suey" I think.)
• When my dad sings Brick House. I don't know if it's ironic, but it sure as hell creeps me out.
• When I sing anything by the Notorious BIG. "I like it when you call me Big Poppa..."
• When I sing along to "It's All About the Benjamins". I mean... hello! I'm Canadian. We don't have Benjamins up here.

And the list goes on and on and on... however, I think that it is worth mentioning that the song that I was singing when I thought about this in the first place was "Dreadlock Holiday" by 10cc. "I don't like reggae... oh no! I LOVE IT! OH YEAH!"

That one's going in the car, fo sho.

Just (don't) do it.

I just read something on the internet regarding a girl named Misty. After reading that name, I completely lost all interest in the contents of the actual story because I was so distracted by the name Misty.

I think that is one of the worst names you could possibly give to a child. It sounds like the name of a pet. Heck, I wouldn't even name my pet Misty! If my parents had named me Misty I can pretty much guarantee you that we would now be estranged.

Naming your child Misty is a recipe for disaster. Nothing good will come of it, I assure you. Misty lives in 1992, because that was maybe the only time in which it would have passed for being a cool name. Misty has frizzy hair with stand up 80's bangs. Misty wears neon and acid wash without the slightest hint of irony.

I say this because I know people who will be having babies soon. To my knowledge, none of them are considering Misty as a name choice. (Mind you, none of them live in trailers either.) But if you are or ever were considering Misty, please reconsider. For the love of god, reconsider!

I will even offer up some lovely alternatives:

Gretchen
Dolores
Gertrude
Mary-Margaret-Katherine-Elizabeth
Mulva

See? All great options. Thank you for your time.

PS: Don't even get all up in my grill if you happen to be named Misty. Because you know you hate it too.

PPS: If your mom, sister, best friend or whatever happens to be named Misty you better not try getting all up in my grill either. It is a stupid name, and you know it! Feel free to rant about how dumb my name is if you like. I agree with you, SO THERE!

Man, what a rip!

Rip-off, that is.

I thought I was being clever by snacking on dried fruit. The reason I bought it is because when I buy frest fruit it always goes bad before I can eat it all. (What can I say, I am forgetful.) SO... naturally, dried fruit seemed like a good idea. So I bought some and took it to work for snackins.

But then the internet just told me that dried fruit is totally calorie city! This is not good news at all, especially since I was kind of thinking that I wanted to consume LESS goddamn calories. I really need to do my research before I jump on a bandwagon of any sort. This shit is just like the banana chips allllllllllllllllll over again.

Crud.

The one when I fall a little bit in love with a guy on the street.

I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that I am being totally rediculous because you can't possibly just fall in love with a guy that you see on the street. Especially when that guy is like... the same age as your dad. (Hold back on the EWWWWWWW for a moment.)

But it can happen. Under one circumstance in particular...

It can happen when the guy in question is Pierce Brosnan.

















Steph had called me earlier to say that she had just seen Pierce riding past her on a bike. I was totally jealous because I always miss out on things like that. So imagine my delight when for no reason I decided to pop into the art gallery gift store... and I turn the corner to go in through the side entrance... and he is sitting on the bench right in front of me. He was talking on the phone, and as soon as I heard his voice (which is terribly HOT, btw) I kind of freaked out. I was proud of myself for managing to play it totally cool. Even after I saw him the second time on the way out. (My inner voice was saying something like, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!")

Let me tell you ladies, the dude is HOT. Especially for a man his age. (NOTE: Watch The Matador. You will not be sorry. He has a gut and wears a speedo. It is hilarious!) It is kind of frightening. I am not supposed to have anyone in the "over 40" crowd on my hot list. Shit, I must be getting old. But I can honestly say, I totally dig the salt and pepper hair thing.

When I am 40, I will be in heaven when I am hanging out with my peers. But until then, I guess I will just have to invest in 25-30ish age group and wait 15 years for the big payoff. I suppose it's worth it.

Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Tension Headache

Where did it come from, this tension headache? It came from my neck, which got all tense because that's what it does when I am under some stress. The neck tightens up sooooooo much that it is damn near impossible to relax it. Good grief! So added to the neck that is toight like a toiger, is a serious case of the tummy grumbles. Kids, this is what happens when they tell you that you are going to get off work early today at 1pm. So you think to yourself, "Sweet! I'll just eat lunch after I'm done work. Super awesome!"

But it is not super awesome, because they lied and you didn't get to go home early at 1pm because there was too much work. So now it's like, 2:15pm and you are still at your desk and you have still not eaten because there is no time. This is where I pull a Jessie Spano moment:

"THERE'S NO TIME! THERE'S NEVER ANY TIME! I NEED TO SING, ZACK! I HAVE TO SING! I'M SO EXCITED! I'm so... I'm SO CONFUSED!" Wah, wah, wah.

I am so hungry that I am considering making a trip down to the vending machine. You might think this is no great personal sacrifice, but considering said vending machine is owned and maintained by a man who surely realizes that he looks exactly like Hilter and is therefore doing it on purpose... then you can understand why I have issues with it. Being German, I just can't support that sort of thing.

Though, I bet they have some delicious chips in there... screw you, Hitler! I'm not giving in!

Can I leave yet? There is beer that wants me to drink it. The beer and I are really on the same page...

Say You, Say Me...

Sometimes you just don't have anything to say. And that's okay.

Sometimes you just want to tell the world how much you fucking love the piece of cinematic gold that is White Nights starring Gregory Hines and Mikhail Baryshnikov.

I mean, come on. What 4 year old child in 1985 was not watching this movie?



Okay, so maybe I was the only one. Whatevs!

Just you wait. One day I will do 11 pirouettes and it will blow your fucking mind.

OMIGODOMIGODOMIGODOMIGOD!

Get ready kids, for the BEST NEWS EVER!

Dancing With the Stars is coming back again for a new season. I have never watched it, but you can bet your butt I'll be watching it this time. Why? Because of this asshole:

















Tucker Carlson, giant turd.

That's right children. Tucker Carlson is taking a short hiatus from his career as a professional douchebag (read: conservative pundit) to compete on television for a trophy with a disco ball on it. This is fantastic! I mean, it was already waaaaayyyy too easy to make fun of this guy and now this? He's just GIVING it away! He's like the town whore for jokes about himself!

I imagine that at this very moment, Jon Stewart is running around Manhattan tossing out candy and flower pedals and squealing with glee. I wish I was there with him.

I anticipate that Tucker will likely need a makeover before the show starts. Here is how it will go: "Alright, so let's see what we've got here... lose the suits, put on some sequins, for gods sake cut the hair, and one more thing: Stop being such a dick."

Heh. This is going to be seriously awesome. I love it when uptight white people try to dance. But does he really stand a chance? Not when you are dancing off again Mario fricken Lopez. GOOD LUCK! Have you not SEEN the slater dance? The dude has moves. Serious moves.

Awesome-icity.

You know what is awesome? I'll tell you what is awesome.

The fact that David Cassidy is playing a show at the PNE this year! I think I love him. And I'm not afraid of it. Not ONE BIT.

You know who else will be there? Nearly Neal. I don't even need to tell you how much I love that shit. You're damn right I'm dragging one of you down there to see this one! Any takers? Come on, I'm a good date! I am fully of witty banter and I'll even practice batting my eyelashes if that sort of thing could be enjoyable for you.

You know what else is awesome? Red pepper hummus. De-lish. I like to eat it with carrot sticks.

Also awesome, is the song Black Swan from this album. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Thom Yorke is a bloody genius. He makes some truly delightful and beautiful music. Check it out if you are inclined to agree with me on that one.

And lastly, I enjoy it when you have fun times with google. Jess and I started googling people we went to school with. I did some more of that today, and I'll tell you... I found me a gem. If you went to school with me, then I strongly suggest that you click HERE. It will bring back all kinds of wonderful memories. Fuckin' wonderful silly little memories. Memories are for fuckin' CLOWNS.

Do you know him? Does he call you at home?

If you are inquiring about one Samuel L. Jackson, then yes. And yes.

That's right kids, today whilst working away I received a voicemail. Who was it, you ask?

SAMUEL L. MUTHAFUCKIN' JACKSON.

He called me to encourage me to go see his new film, Snakes on a Plane.

He said it is probably the best movie ever.

He told me to walk out of my boring office job, stop wasting time surfing the internet and for god's sake stop fussing with my fancy hairdo (or hair don't as he called it) and get in that tin can that I call a car, go pick up my co-pilot Dave and GO SEE SNAKES ON A PLANE!

Then he threatened my life in a mild manner and said goodbye.

It was the most amazing thing I have ever had happen to me. And I would like others to have the same awesome experience of being BFF with Sam Jackson.

So here you go, lover:

http://snakesonaplane.varitalk.com/

It will rule your life, fo sheez.

PS: I won some tickets to go see David Gray! Woot! I love free stuff. To the extreme for real.

Houston, we gots problems up in here.

I remember one day at work when Platypus emailed me because he was worried about liking this weird 30 Seconds to Mars song and he thought perhaps he was going crazy or something. (He was... the song isn't that good.) I was not able to offer up any advice on how to deal with the situation because I wouldn't shut up about Jordan Catalano and his lovely eyes.

ANYWAYS, I find myself in a similar situation. This morning I officially decided that I love this song.

Am I crazy? Cause I think it's kinda hot.

Hey, Aqualung!

Dear Amanda and Dani,

You were totally 100% right. I was a fool to have gone so long without seeing Anchorman. It is a truly fantastic film. I loved it. Just like you said I would. Thanks for encouraging me to watch it. I loved it so much I watched it again last night. It was even better the second time. Aces. Thanks, ladies!

Sincerely,

Sarah

Dear Everyone Else,

I can't even tell you how amused I was by this movie. It is so wicked awesome. It is like a little treasure chest full of tiny precious gems that you keep underneath your bed. You open it every once in awhile just to see if it is as glorious as you remember it being... and it is. It always is.

I love just about every song in the movie. It makes everything 100 times funnier. And I also love the moustaches. They also make everything 100 times funnier. And I love Wes Mantooth's pure rage. I just love everything about it.

My favourite parts in the movie are probably not the same as everyone else's. Here are mine:

- "I will punch you in the ovaries. A straight shot. Right to the babymaker."

- Ben Stiller and the Spanish Language news team: "Como están, bitches? Spanish language news is here! Tonight's top story: The sewers run red with Burgundy's blood!"

- Fred Willard. Just because he is Fred Willard: "I have no idea where he would have gotten ahold of German pornography. But you and I are mature adults; we've both seen our share of pornographic materials. Oh, you never have? Of course you haven't, how stupid of me. Neither have I. I was just speaking in generalities. Right. I'll stop by the school a little later, Sister Margaret. Bye."

AND... my favourite lines all come courtesy of one super-hot Luke Wilson:
"I am gonna straight up murder your ass!"
"THIS IS GETTING TO BE RI-GOD-DAMN-DICULOUS!"

I love it so much. And I hope you do too.

Sincerely,

Sarah

PS: Here is a present for you, friends.





Peace out, homies!

Rock n' Roll McDonalds.

If I worked at McDonalds, this would be an appropriate title. I do not work at McDonalds though, I just really appreciate the misunderstood genius that is Wesley Willis.

ANYWAYS, I have spent pretty much all day listening to an internet radio station of my own creation and I am in a little bit of heaven. It is truly good times. It keeps playing magical songs in a fantastical order. I love it. I am having such good times at my desk today, despite the intense pain in my neck and shoulders. The music is so good that I am forgetting about the physical pain I am experiencing. Now THAT is good music, kids.

I was particularly amused by the selection of "Do You Feel Like We Do?" from the Frampton Comes Alive album. That song is friggin' LONG. That is one chatty guitar, I tell you.

In other news, I am FREEZING cold. I don't understand why they need to keep us all at the temperature of steaks in here... I would be delighted to be kept at room temperature, thank you very much. Brrrrr.

Ha! I totally just banned U2 from my internet radio station. I love it! I have never felt so powerful... take that, Bono!














Make poverty history? Make EVERY U2 SONG SINCE 1990 history! (Well... every one except Discotheque.)

As for you, Whitesnake... you just stay right there.


















I really think these guys have staying power...

A case of the Mondays on a Tuesday.

Long weekends are awesome. You get a whole extra day off to not work. AND you get paid for the not working! All in all, it is a pretty awesome situation. I like it. However, there is a downside to these long weekends. When you go back to work on Tuesday, it is like... way worse than a Monday because the extra day of fun lets you get accustomed to the not working. So when you actually have to go back to work, it seems so much harsher.

BUT... there is also an upside to the craptacular times that await you on the Tuesday after a long weekend. What is it?

That it's Tuesday. So at least you only have 3 more days of work before the weekend comes again.

It's a catch 44, really.

PS: Thank you, America for the Altoids Mango Sours and for helping me see what the future holds for me if I do not get my not-so-sweet heiny to the gym every once in awhile.

Easily amused.

I find that while grand gestures and grand occasions do bring quite a bit of joy to those who are experiencing, I have come to learn that it really is the small things in life that make me happy. This struck me just now, as I was sitting at my desk, highlighting things and doing paperwork. Why?

Because I really love highlighting.

I take great joy in it. I like to take a moment to decide which colour I will use... because I like to make appropriate choices for content. Feminine things always get pink... and masculine always gets green. But sometimes I switch it up. Every day is different.

It has become a very zen-like practice for me and I am truly glad to have a job that requires me to highlight as much as I do.

Now if only I could work this into life outside of work... I would probably never have the urge to rip someone's face off... and what a great thing that would be.

The height of sophistication and professionalism.

Yep, that's me!

Apparently, I look "very professional" and "really lovely" today. Despite the fact that I am wearing these shoes:














It must be accidental colour coordination. My shirt matches the pinstriping on my pants. Who knew?

Desperado...

Everyone remembers that episode of Seinfeld when Elaine's boyfriend gets that far away look in his eyes every time he hears Desperado. I have been long convinced that everyone has a song just like that. Maybe you don't stare off into space when you hear it, but something happens to you when you hear it.

Admit it. You know what I mean.

What is mine? There are a few. But there is one song in particular that is 100% guaranteed to cause major freakouts every time I hear it. It's a different kind of freak out though... of the "OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG!" turn that shit up and DANCE variety. And so, it is with much excitement that I present to you, my Desperado.



Oh, SNAP! That shit is the BOMB!

Please, do tell me... what is YOUR Desperado?

Something like a phenomenon...

The title really has nothing to do with anything, other than the fact that it was the very song that popped into my head as soon as I clicked the text box where I type the titles. GOOD TIMES. That song is so awesome. I'm totally going to listen to that shit when I get home. Big ups to LL Cool J for keepin it real.

ANYWAYS... I just ate lunch. I thought it was going to be delish, but I was sadly mistaken. For some reason I had myself convinced that gnocchi and pesto would be pretty okay, but I think I was wrong. So very, very wrong. It tasted sour-like and was not an overall enjoyable eating experience. I also discovered that I have apparently been cooking it the wrong way this whole time. Who knew? I know better now, so next time I'm sure it will be top notch.

This morning I had some fun times with imagination. I was trying to think up scenarios which would make it so that I would have to fly to work on a helicopter. So far, I got nothin. But the day is young, my friends. I have also been plotting the demise of modern society, but I've got to keep that under wraps for now.

In other news, I just discovered that Hulk Hogan has a reality tv show! And his entire family has yellow-blonde hair! And they are all just as tanned as he is! Trust me, it's entertaining. He appears to have ripped off the Rock and has taken to referring to boys who wish to date his daughter as "jabronies". He is also not fond of nipple rings, so keep that shit under your shirt when the Hulkster is around.

Oh, the PRESSURE!

This morning the Mink instructed me to write about something that would compel him to comment, because he really likes to comment.

It really threw me off. What the hell am I supposed to write about now? I don't know what will prompt discussion! I usually just write about the stupid crap that happens to me on a daily basis. But now I'm supposed to prompt conversation and discussion? I don't know if I can handle it. But as you know, my momma didn't raise no quitter. So I'll give it the old college try:

So... yeah... human cloning... is that shit crazy or WHAT?

PS: I hate hot sauce.

The drunk person motto.

You know it. It is the sure sign that you are two sips away from certain doom. You speak four little words and suddenly it becomes glaringly obvious to everyone around you that you, my dear are tanked. But those four little words are also quite lovely to hear, even from a drunk:

"I love you, man."

I'm not drunk, but I really mean it. I do love you, man.

I also love voicemail.

Today I got a voicemail from Jess. She called to tell me that she had heard Chicago's "If You Leave Me Now" on the radio and wanted to make sure that I heard it too. It was awesome! (BTW, I did hear it... and I loved every goddamn minute of it.) I also got a mystery voicemail from an internet cartoon. It read me a text message that it was pretending to send me so that we didn't have to talk anymore. It was amazing! (Thanks, Dave! Keep up the good work.)

And now I'm tired. Goodnight, snookums.

So like, false creek isn't a real creek, you know...

Someone actually said that to me once. And I was all, "Uh, YEAH." I don't remember who it was, but I still think it's pretty funny. Despite being based on a web of lies, it is a very nice place. If you have some time, I highly suggest walking along the path by the water on the Granville Island side. It's terribly romantic. So you can see why I like it so much... because I go there... alone... *sigh*














See? That shit was made for romantic walks... with your pretend husband. DO NOT JUDGE ME RIGHT NOW.

Remember when you used to get to sleep until 10am? All the time? Remember that? I do too. I miss it dearly.

This morning when I woke up I was wayyyyyy tired. It is totally my fault though. I did not get home from the super awesomest girls night EVER until about midnight. To clarify, midnight is kind of a foreign concept to me... because I never see it. 11:00 is totally pushing it for this girl. But it was way fun, so I didn't mind.

I watched the fireworks from Vanier and it was pretty cool. They played Queen and Dean Martin, which excited me greatly. There was one moment in particular that caused me to utter what is perhaps the funniest thing ever. (Note: The following conversation was entirely about fireworks, and nothing else.)

Amanda: "Whoa, those things are huge!"
Me: "I know. It looks like they are coming right at your face!"
Amanda: "That's crazy."
Me: "Totally. You know what it reminds me of? You know that movie at Disneyland with Michael Jackson? The 3D one?"
Amanda: "Dude! Captain EO?"
Me: "Yeah! Captain EO! That movie is insane! It's like the fireworks because you are sitting there watching it and it looks like Michael Jackson is coming right at your face."
*pause*
Me: "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT!! I SAID MICHAEL JACKSON WAS COMING RIGHT AT YOUR FACE!!! HOLY CRAP!!!"
Amanda: "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."
Me: "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! That was awesome."
*continuous laughter*

I love it when I say inappropriate things.

Money talks... but it don't sing and dance and it don't walk...

I don't know about you, but I would much rather be forever in blue jeans. But I can't. Because there is a dress code. (A lax one at that, but still no BLUE JEANS!) That is why I love casual Fridays. I might even write a song about it.

ANYWAYS...

Today is unofficially Neil Diamond appreciation day. It looks like Platypus and I are the only ones celebrating, but that's okay! While we were listening to Love on the Rocks this morning I was thinking about how many times people have been brutally dumped and ended up stinking drunk with a glass in their hands listening to this song. They raise their glasses to the speaker, nod in agreement and shout out things like, "Yeah Neil! You and I both fucking know what it's like! WE KNOW!" By the middle of the song, I imagine they are crying a little bit. But then something happens. They snap out of it. And then they sing. They go for the big finish... and then they pass out. I bet this exact scenario has happened a million times over. And I love it.

Hmmm... I think I just made me some plans for Saturday night! (I know. The only thing more pathetic than getting dumped and drowning your sorrows in booze and Neil Diamond is pretending to get dumped and drowning your sorrows with booze and Neil Diamond.) Shut up. I know I don't have a boyfriend. HAHAHAHA!















Hey look! They are in love... and they are on the rocks... get it? GET IT???

So... Lance Bass is gay, huh? I, for one, did not see this coming. I mean... who could have possibly imagined? Even after that whole outer space thing...

At least there were no broken hearts as a result of this announcement. (OH COME ON! YOU KNOW HE WAS NOT THE CUTE ONE!) The craziest part about this story is not that he is gay... but how he managed to land such a hot boyfriend.

Also, I bought blueberries. They are not that good. Whatevs.

***EDIT***@ 3:20pm

Holy shit! I got so caught up in the whole "Lance Bass is gay" shocker that I completely missed the REAL story here:

Bass and Fatone, 29, are developing a sitcom pilot inspired by the screwball comedy The Odd Couple, in which his character will be gay.

WTF??? That's awesome! It's going to be the worst show EVER! Now THAT is a good story.

Love on the rocks... ain't no big surprise.

Every once in awhile you experience a moment that makes you say "Awwwww yeeeahhhh." I had one of those today.

I was working away, listening to the radio... and then what song do I hear? This one:

YEAH!!!

It made me so happy. Because damnit, I LOVE ME SOME NEIL DIAMOND! He is truly one of America's greatest treasures. Everyone thinks so. Even the Gap thinks so. See?

I love it. So hard. I have so many memories that are all tied up in Neil Diamond songs.

Like how every time I have ever driven across the border since I was about 13 I break out into a spirited version of "America". I'm talking LOUD SINGING here, kids. As soon as I can see the border crossing... "ON THE BOATS AND IN THE PLANES... THEY'RE COMING TO AMERICA!" And of course, I ad-lib. "IN THE GIANT MINI-VAN... WE'RE GOING TO AMERICA!" It totally annoys my mother. And I totally love it.

But I have a more meaningful connection to the music of Neil Diamond. I used to work at a casino. I hated my job more than I hate the smell of boiled hot dogs. And I really fucking HATE the smell of boiled hot dogs. It makes me want to vomit. ANYWAYS, the point is that my job sucked ass and every time I went there (which was EVERY GODDAMN DAY) I felt like a complete failure as a human being. But on occasion a certain musical act would play in the lounge. That act was Nearly Neal and the Solitary Band. Every night that they played it made me happy to be there. I would get so excited and for a few hours I would stop feeling like I was rotting away in a prison and instead would think that my job was pretty okay.

So thank you, Neil Diamond. Thank you for being so seriously fucking awesome.

Willy Wonka - Menace to society.

Is it possible to fall into a chocolate-induced coma? I'm starting to worry. Since the birthday, I have consumed insane amounts of the stuff. Including today. And now I feel like I'm going to fall over and sleep for 10 years, not even noticing when the janitor kicks me out of the way so he can get to the stupid garbage can.

But I still do like chocolate. Mmmmm. Smarties.

They are sitting on my desk right now. Within arms reach. And they are driving me mad.

Let's face it. I will likely eat the entire box before bedtime. Shame on me.

Hey! I have a story to share with you!

My phone rang. I answered it. Here is the short conversation:

ME: "Yo."
THEM: "Are you listening to the radio today?"
ME: "Nope. Why?"
THEM: "Turn it on."
ME: "Why?"
THEM: "There's no time to waste! You are missing Peter Cetera!"
ME: "WHAT??? Thanks for the tip! I'm on it!"

THE RADIO: "After all that we've been throooooogh... I will make it up to youuuuuuuu..."

ME: "Awwwwww yeeeeeahhhh."

Monday, woot!

So yeah. Monday. Started out not awesomely. I woke up a million times this morning because it was so goddamn HOT in my room. So gross. I hate it.

THEN... I left the house this morning to have the goddamn gate slam shut after me (due to the clever new device the landlord installed to keep the gate closed so the dogs can't escape. Clever idea. Bad in practice.) I am so damn polite that I stuck my hand out to minimize the slamming noise, resulting in a sliver in the palm of my hand. They might be small, but those bitches HURT. Luckily, my work moms are a whiz at things like this, and they got it out for me. I think it is safe to say that tomorrow, that bitch can SLAM shut when I leave. I don't care about sleeping babies and neighbors anymore.

But who cares about Monday, anyways. Friday is totally where it's at! Thanks to all my homies who helped ensure that I got a little bit drunk, but not SO drunk that I acted inappropriately. Well, no more than usual. HA! Also, there was a slight bit of controversy... which always makes things interesting. I kind of love controversy. Is that wrong? WHATEVS. You love it too. You know it.

One more thing... the aquabus mini-cruise comes highly recommended. It is super fantastic! Damnit, I love the aquabus! So hard. It could be either terribly romantic or 100% comedy, depending on how you want to make it. Personally, I like a mix of the two. My favourite part was when I decided to create a little mood music, courtesy of the Wang Chung birthday card. Turns out, if I carry it on my shoulder like a boombox, I look super-rad. Ask anybody. It's true.

I'm going to eat my lunch now. It is a very important meal. Yum!

A Gentleman and a Scholar...

Amanda and I have decided that this is a catch phrase that needs to come back. The problem is that we decided this at work yesterday, and no one around here is a gentleman nor a scholar. So I have yet to break it in. I mean, who am I going to say that to, Platypus? Actually, maybe I will. After all, I am irony's #1 superfan.

ANYWAYS, I had a pretty sweet birthday yesterday. It was good times. I hung out with my mom and sister, went out for dinner and made fun of other family members in their absense. You know, the usual stuff that goes on when I hang out with ma family! I got some sweet presents and was particularly excited by one item. This is the funny part, kids. Allow me to share it with you.

So, I'm opening my presents and I open up the card from my mom and dad. The envelope felt kinda heavy, so I was immediately curious. I open up the card, and a song starts playing. Which song, you ask?

EVERYBODY HAVE FUN TONIGHT!!!!!

That's right. I got a friggin WANG CHUNG BIRTHDAY CARD!!!! You don't even know how excited I was. You don't even know. I brought it to work today with intentions of annoying the hell out of everyone with it. I intend to leave some Wang Chung voicemail before I peace out of here today. I love it. So hard.

Speaking of Wang Chung-ing, everybody is totally gonna be doing some of that tonight, fo sheez. The ladies and I are taking a watertaxi tour, and I am terribly excited about it! It is going to be GOOD TIMES. Woot! I can't wait to Wang Chung!

Yes. There will definitely be some wang-ing of the chung going on. (Ha! I love how that sounds kind of pervy and weird.) I'm totally going to start telling people to Wang Chung. That's awesome. It's perfect for Friday afternoon conversations. Allow me to demonstrate:

ME: "Yo! MTV Raps! Got any plans for this weekend?"
THEM: "Yeah, I'm totally gonna get crunk tonight. Want to come?"
ME: "Yeah dude, we are totally gonna Wang Chung tonight!"
THEM: "To the extreme for reals! Hey, do you like Mister Mister?"
ME: "Ugh. Gag me with a spoon!"

See how well that works? I also suggest that you yell out "EVERYBODY WANG CHUNG TONIGHT!" whenever you enter a party or your local tavern. People will think you are super cool and offer to give you money... just for being you.

So... in conclusion, I propose that you all wang your chungs this evening. (I'm telling you, I will probably never, ever get tired of saying that. It's just so amusing.)

PS: If you know what's good for you, you will click on the first link I provided for your viewing pleasure. When you do so, a real gem of a song awaits you. It is not "Everybody Have Fun Tonight". I promise you, it's worth it!

Happy Birthday, Carlos Santana!!!! (and me too.)

So I've gone ahead and done it. I have turned 25. I whined about it for A VERY LONG TIME, but you know what? So far, it's not that bad. I now am the proud owner of some lovely blue drinking glasses from Pottery Barn, and I'm pretty happy about that. (Big ups to Grandma and Roy for that one. Word up!)

The bus was hilarious this morning. I got on the Cambie bus and the back doors wouldn't close. They kept opening and closing like they were possessed or something. The driver was funny about it, cause he just stood there and watched them for awhile... then he looked up and asked out loud "Maybe something is stuck? Do you think so?" Then he watched a bit more. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said "You are all very lucky. You've got dancing doors! They don't do this for just anybody. It's nice, huh?" Then he kicked us all off the bus. But another one came right after, and that bitch was practically empty, so I got a seat. You're goddamn right it's my birthday!

I also just discovered that USA Today has a list of celebrity birthdays every day. I happen to share a birthday with the hot guy from Lost, and the effing bassist from the Moody Blues. That second one is total bullshit. I hate the Moody Blues, like way totally hard. Ugh. ANYWAYS, there is work to be done so I must peace out for now. See you bitches later!

PS: ALSO... happy birthday to my Aunt Frankie who has the same birthday as me because we are the coolest and we rule life. *awesome*

Oh, internet! You are just too much!

Funny story about surfing the net at work. Everyone says you shouldn't do it, but I mean come on. You simply cannot stick a girl in front of a computer for 8 hours a day and expect it not to happen. ANYWAYS... this is my funny story.

I've been trying to prove to myself all day that I am still young, because I officially turn 25 tommorrow, and I'm pretty sure I will immediately turn all wrinkly and mean. Well, I'm not terribly concerned about the mean stuff cause I've had that going on since about age 3, but the wrinkles, yes.

So I decided to prove my youth by taking a series of hearing tests on the internet. One of them was located at liquidgeneration.com. I knew it was some kind of joke test of some sort and I wanted to check it out to see if it was worth tricking anyone else with. So I'm taking the hearing test, and I get to the part when you can't hear anything, because they are obviously trying to trick you. So I'm waiting for the joke to come into play... and at this point have forgotten about the volume on my computer speakers. Turns out the joke part is one of those scary monster faces that suddenly comes out of nowhere and has REALLY LOUD SCREAMING NOISES to accompany it. Heh.

So I turn it off, and my boss goes "What the hell was that? It sounded awful!" I say nothing. "Did someone send out one of those nasty emails?" I say yes. "I hate those things." I agree. Then I laugh to myself. It's a good thing people in this office are fond of surfing the 'net for celeb gossip, or else I'd be in trouble.

THE END.

Soooo... looks like the moral of the story is when you are messing about on the computer at work, turn down the goddamn volume! But you probably already knew that.

THIS JUST IN: Brazil nuts are delicious. Eat some. They are probably pretty okay for you. Yummmmm.

Good food, crazy times.

If you ever feel like you are in the mood for a Montreal Smoked Meat samich, you could go to Zako's Deli on Broadway.

If you ever feel like you want to have insane people make you a samich, you could also go to Zako's Deli on Broadway.

It was the most hilarious food ordering experience I have ever had in my life. The entire time, the dude was saying strange things to us... I don't even remember what the hell he was saying, but it took everything I had not to laugh out loud. I couldn't look at Craig because he was laughing too, and that would have made me laugh REALLY HARD and then the samich guy may have tried to kill me. You just never know with people these days.

There was also an issue with the girl that was helping. A customer noticed that they had left the phone out, so he went to hand them the phone back. Boy was THAT a mistake. He accidentally dropped it, and when he did that chick was pissed off. She gave him the most evil, hateful look I have ever seen. Which made me nervous and caused me to start laughing again. I was terrified that she was going to use her evil powers to break my femur, rupture my spleen and steal my soul. But I managed to keep it all in check. I am happy to report that we both made it out of there, injury free.

I was not aware of the fact that there was so much meat in a samich like that. But it's cool, cause now I probably have eaten my protein quota for the entire year. So I've got that going for me, which is nice. Despite the craziness of the restaurant, the samich was actually pretty good. So it wasn't all for nothing.

I just got made fun of because they don't think I do any work around here. BUT I DO. I do lots of it. I'm just so goddamn efficient that I often have pockets of spare time in which I use to blog. IS THAT SO WRONG? I think not. Especially since I'm pretty sure that there are peeps out there who sleep under their desks. It's not just George Costanza, kids. I'm talking about real actual people.

So, in conclusion, I would like to say the following: turns out I like smoked meat sandwiches, I wish I had a coffee right now, I like to eat lunch, I hear that people think the stuff I write is actually funny (which is exciting) and STOP MAKING FUN OF ME, BERNIE!

PS: We had a hilarious conversation at lunch about Platypus riding an electric bike. This is something I fear I will never live to see. Though I wish I would, because I think it would be truly amusing. So get on it, Platypus. Get thee to an electric bicycle shop!

















You could be best friends with this guy. You could wear a green jacket. I think his name is Jurgen. Think about it.

TLC and A&E - television for the soul.

Hey, you know what's weird? How I apparently fall in love with everyone who ever had a reality show on A&E. HAHAHA! Well, not everyone... but mostly all of the dudes on Inked and (for some strange reason which I still don't totally understand) Criss Angel.

Yes. That is right. It was decided last night whilst watching Mindfreak that I find Criss Angel kind of attractive.





















He's kind of goth, which is why it's so weird. But when you see that boy without eye makeup... YOW.

AND THEN... I sort of became addicted to watching Miami Ink. And I also think that half the dudes on that show are super hot. I think it's mostly the tattoos. Since when do I think tattoos are sooooooo hot? Since now, apparently. I'm totally on board with tattooed dudes.





















This is Ami. He has tattoos. That is hot. So does Yoji. Again, super hot. Basically, if a boy wears this exact outfit I will marry him. Damn.


Delightful. Just delightful. I love television. It helps me learn so much about myself.

I really AM a faux asthmatic!!!

Good news, kids. I finally went to a proper doctor and the news is pretty okay. I am now taking antibiotics and 100% nerd certified nasal steroids. The antibiotics are in pill form and they are rediculously HUGE. Seriously. Every time I take them, I get nervous because I think that this will be the time that I will begin to choke on my medicine. I have to mentally prepare for it. It is quite intense.

The REALLY good news is that he doesn't think I have asthma! So I'm hoping that this will mean that as soon as I finally get better, there will be no more wheezing! HOORAY!!!!!! You have no idea how awesome this is. As a kid who was always healthy and took immense pride in having super sweet levels of lung capacity (what can I say, I was a horn player. We are proud of being able to breathe well.) it was quite devastating to learn that I might have suddenly developed asthma. So here's hoping that this doctor fellow is right. Screw you, asthma! We don't want you around there parts, so you'd best be moving along.

















Go go gadget trombone lungs! (I don't know what that means either.)

On a side note, I just made a fantastic discovery... totally by accident! I was terrifically excited to learn that on George Michael's website, you can listen to EVERY SONG HE EVER MADE. I think that after today, a few of these bad boys are quite likely to make an appearance on my ultimate kareoke list.

Recipe for an awesome Friday:

Free pizza + George Michael + beer after work + BINGO = muthafuckin' GOOD TIMES.

See you later, puppets. I've got some singing - errr... make that working - to do.

A surefire way to make new friends.

If you are in the market for some new friends because the old ones just are calling anymore, don't worry. I have the solution! Why not try Buddy Bands?

Sure, you laugh now... but if you actually had a couple of Buddy Bands right now, you'd be dancing with some hotties instead of sitting in front of your computer in your underoos.

So basically what I am trying to say with this post is that I am far too tired and ill-feeling to come up with something witty and original. But I think AC Slater doing pirouettes with Kelly and Jessie in sparkly halter tops is a pretty okay deal. There is a little something for everyone.

What can I say, I aim to please.

***EDIT*** (@ 3:50pm)

PS: Big ups to whomever decided to have a freakin' fire drill this afternoon. Really appreciated that one. Did we not notice the act that IT IS RAINING OUT TODAY??? AND I AM SICK??? SO MAYBE STANDING IN THE RAIN IS NOT AN AWESOME IDEA??? It's okay. You probably didn't know. But seriously... this could not have been done on a hot sunny afternoon? Think about that for next time, bud.

Dun dun dunnnnnnnn!

Tomorrow I have to go see a new doctor. I hate going to the doctor. Cause I go there and I'm all, "Yo, what's the dilly? Why am I so ill?" and they're all, "I dunno. Drink some water and sleep." Always just seemed like a waste of time for me. Meh. BUT... I am going anyways so people will get off my case about this doctor business already.

Do you know how tricky it is to find a doctor these days? Nobody takes new patients anymore. I called my grandma's doctor to make an appointment and the lady is all "Sorry, but we're not taking new patients." SO... in an effort to use my clout I told her that my grandma told me they were taking new patients... and after dropping grandma's name, she said it was okay. So really, it's all about who ya know. Even for stupid crap like getting a doctor.

This, I know for sure.

This is what a toilet seat cover dispenser looks like. Can you see the tiny writing at the top? Sometimes, it says "Provided by the management - for your protection."

This is the thing that I know is true. No matter where you go in life, ass germs will always be a concern for the management.

I find it oddly comforting.

Hey, hey, hey, what is going on here????

In the words of everyone's favourite principal, Mr. Belding, I ask that question. Two things have happened that have upset me enough to demand answers.

Item number 1: Why in the goddamn hell am I sick again?

• Am I being punished for something?
• Is this because I said a swear at my mom that one time?
• This is completely not fair.
• This is a load of horse crap.

Item number 2: Selling out is apparently more common than I thought.

Looks like your punk rock boyfriend, George Stroumbolopoulos (I can never spell that correctly) is going to be hosting an American show (which will be shown on the ceeb here in Canada as well) called "The One". It's a singing competition. Which is awesome. Because we totally don't even have enough of those yet. (I AM LYING. IT IS NOT AWESOME AT ALL.) I don't even want to think about how this is going to turn out. I will probably check it out anyways, just to see if he manages to keep his street cred intact. Because if he goes all Seacrest on me, I just don't think I can take it. *tear*

I feel like crud. My head kind of feels as though while I was sleeping a small group of well organized workers (each about 3mm tall) worked through the night to compeletely fill my head with thousands of cotton balls. That was actually a really good description of it. It totally feels like that. Good job with the forming of sentences, kid. Good show.

Ugh.

You are the weakest link. Goodbye.

Waaaaayyyy tooooooooo earlyyyyyyyy.

That's what time I had to get up at this morning. 5-fricken-45. AM. That is bullshit. But it's all for a good cause, I suppose. Had I come into work at my regular time, things would have been much more complicated. So I guess I'm okay with it.

I'm still tired. Even after drinking a big coffee. Wah. This is likely because I am sick. Being sick is lame. BUT... despite the tiredness and illness, I am still going to go drinking after work with ma homies. Because you simply can't mess with tradition.

I saw this story on the CBC website this morning. I am kind of excited about it, because I looooove Robert Downey Jr. He's so messed up. I do not think that it is possible for a book about his life to suck. It's bound to be literary gold. Okay, so maybe that's pushing it ever so slightly... but it will definitely be interesting. Plus, he's totally hot. I hope there will be a collection of photos in the middle of the book. They always have that shit in memoirs.





















In French he would be called "la renarde" and he would be hunted with only his cunning to protect him.

SCHA-WING!

Ummm... that's all I can think of at the moment. When can I go home? I'm ready to get outta here. I love weekends.

I love to write letters. A lot.

So I will write one right now.

*ahem*

Dear Aaron Neville,

I've had just about enough of you. You are always there. Anytime I walk into a business that is trying desperately hard not to offend anyone by way of music, you are there. When my mom is driving me somewhere in her minivan, you are there. When I am at work, you are there. It is much worse when you are at work because it is not so easy to escape you, as a vital part of my agreement with my employer is that I not run out of the building 7 times a day.

What is your problem? Do I come to your workplace and sing warbly soft lyrics into your ears? No. No I do not, Aaron Neville. So why do you do it to me? Your actions are without justification, and I will not stand for it any longer. What does that mean? I'll tell you what it means.

It is so on.

I don't know if they use the same lingo in the big easy, but basically that means that should we ever meet face to face, you are in a whole new WORLD of trouble.

So go on. Go plague somebody else. Linda Ronstadt just called. She totally misses you. But if you go visit, you better NOT record any new material. Not if you know what's good for you.

You know, I was trying to think of a way for us to work this out. And I thought of one. But since you cannot magically transform yourself into Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass and play "A Taste of Honey", I don't think it's gonna happen.

Enjoy your vacation.

Sincerely,

Sarah

PS: I don't terribly mind your brothers. They seem like okay people. Possibly because they play instruments and DO NOT SING IN A VOICE THAT SHOULD ONLY BE COMING OUT OF THE MOUTH OF A 5 YEAR OLD GIRL.

PPS: Despite what you may have heard, there is such a thing as too much vibrato. There really,
really is.

















Look at him. He even carries his mic to go mountain biking. What a douchebag.

Soy un perdidor...

I finally played bingo yesterday. It was terribly exciting. But I lost. That made me kind of sad. But I got over it.

Bingo is way trickier than I could have ever imagined. They call the numbers so fast... and then they keep changing the rules every time you play a new card... and then sometimes they call two numbers at the same time... and there is so much going on... and it's so confusing... and I think I was a little bit overstimulated. This is not difficult to achieve for me, as situations often become too much for me to handle... like when I am talking to someone and a bird flies by and then I spot something shiny.

But man alive. The most impressive thing about bingo is the old ladies. They are so good at it. I don't know how you get good at bingo, but they are. They can have 12 cards in front of them and never miss a number whilst smoking a cigarette and drinking a soda. Very impressive indeed.

On a different note, I think I am getting sick again. That sucks ass. Haven't I been sick enough this year??? I mean, COME ON!!! Can't a girl catch a break?? Apparently not. I think I need to stay at home every night this week and sleep away my impending illness. I probably won't miss any work though, because I never, ever call in sick. I don't know why. I feel guilty or something. I went to work through 4 rounds of bronchitis and a displaced rib.

I'm like motherfuckin' Superman or something. He would not stay home if he had a cold either.

Can't sleep, clown'll eat me.

Well, so that's not exactly the reason for my deprivation of the restful times this weekend, but I just really love that particular episode of the Simpsons. So funny.

ANYWAYS... it is nearly 11:30pm on Sunday night. I just got home. For most of you, this was a long weekend full of resting and relaxation. Not so for me. For the past 2 days I have put in 9 hour shifts at the jazz festival. And I don't even get paid for that shit. Needless to say, I am a little tired. Despite being tired, I decided that I had better get some use of the FREE CONCERTS that come along with my volunteer pass. So I was a brave little soldier and went to TWO shows all by myself. And it was awesome.

It's kind of weird to go alone, but it's cool because you don't have to pretend to give a crap about what the other person you are with is doing or saying. I have often found myself at shows when my friends are whining the whole time about something or other... and their bad mojo just ruins the whole experience. And let's face it. This is the jazz festival. Not everyone is as in love with music as I am... and there are often a million shows I want to see but can't find anyone to go with. But that is no longer a concern for me.

Last night I popped into the Commodore (after 9 hours suffocating from heat in a room with drunk musicians) to see Jamie Lidell. I enjoyed his music already, but after seeing him live I am in love. He's SO WEIRD. And I can't get enough of it. He sang soulful heartfelt lyrics to a puppet version of himself. He came out wearing a silk robe and the thickest glasses on earth. And he is incredibly sexy (in my eyes) for doing so. I could not avoid dancing. So sorry to anyone who was made uncomfortable by my booty shaking extravaganza.













Shiny gold robes never looked so good... I think I need to get me one of those.

Then tonight I walked over to the Centre to see the lovely Miss Neko Case. I was pretty lucky, cause I got there just in time to swipe one of the last volunteer tickets and sat down 30 seconds before she started. She's so good. So good. I love her voice. She makes me enjoy country music more than I want to.












Dear Neko Case,

I am jealous of your hair and your insane musical talent. But there must be something that I do better than you... I bet you don't have hyperextending elbows, do you? I do. There. Now I feel better about myself.

Sincerely,

Sarah

So that's why I'm so goddamn tired. I basically worked for 7 days straight... which is no good for anybody. That's because if I don't get some goddamn sleep, I'm going to start to get hella angry and I will likely begin to yell at people for no reason. Plus, this 4 day week at work is going to be INSANELY CRAZY BUSY so I gotta rest up. Cause I'm going to be doing the random yelling at people anyways. Shit. I am tired. I'm going to bed.

Goodnight, fools.

A brief summary.

So here's what my day has been like so far:

8:30am - Got to work. Was still giggling about Nacho Libre and trying not to forget hilarious movie quotes.

9:00am - Bragged to Platypus about how awesome the movie was and how he didn't get to see it yet.

9:30 am - Started to realise what a shitstorm I was going to have to deal with today.

10:30am - Engaged in more witty banter via email with coworkers. This is the only thing that keeps me from going bananas on Fridays.

11:30am - Got really hungry right about here. Did not have time to stop and eat for 5 mins.

12:30pm - Still pretty hungry. This sucks.

1:00pm - Started to feel a panic attack coming on. Kind of was about to hyperventilate.

1:30pm - Briefly considered forming an emo wannabe band called "Panic! At the Workplace."

1:45pm - "Beautiful" came on. God I hate that song. The funny part about this was that as soon as it came on I made a loud groaning noise at exactly the same time that Platypus came around the corner and did the exact same thing. Ha!

2:00pm - Right about now I really wished that people would not call me or email me. Because that means there is more work to do. Ugh.

2:30pm - I should be a goddamn sailor. As this is about the time that I could safely determine that I had successfully navigated the shitstorm. Watch out, George Clooney!

And now I have other pressing issues to deal with. Like drinking my face off. Word.

Yo. My name is Betty Bitter Britches.

So yeah. Karma. What's the deal with that shit?? I'm still trying to wrap my head around the concept. I get the basic principles... if you do bad shit, bad shit will happen to you and vice versa. What I do not understand, is how even if you do a ton of really GOOD things but sneak in a very tiny bad thing... you still get screwed.




















Heh. His name is totally Earl. I wonder if he too has karmic issues.


Yesterday, I thought I was pretty nice. I didn't do anything mean! (That is a very impressive thing for me, btw.) But what happens? I get home, and the roofers have made a goddamn mess. I make it all the way to the door without injury, WHEN (dun dun DUNNNNNNNNNN!) I stepped on a friggin' nail!

It was at this point when I was no longer able to keep my usual zen-like state of being. I friggin' lost it. I started yelling about tetanus shots and the importance of taking pride in your workspace by CLEANING UP AFTER YOURSELVES because PEOPLE LIVE DOWNSTAIRS... and how I don't care about the goddamn roof anyways because I live in the friggin' basement... and how if I had to go get a shot I was going to tear somebody a new one. Yes, they were still up on the roof during my outburst. Windows were open, they very well could have heard me. At that point I didn't really give a crap.

It was all kind of comical, I suppose. But now I am wondering... did I just fuck myself over AGAIN, karmically speaking? Because I think I heard somewhere that yelling at hired help was no longer "appropriate". And I'm not even the one paying those bitches. So now I'm kind of frightened. What will happen next????

I don't even want to think about it.

I'm temporarily in love with a stranger...

...and in 15 minutes I'll be moving on down the road.

Last night I saw Buck 65 at the Commodore. It was SUPER AMAZING. He's quite sharp, that one. Perhaps it was the oddly sexual jokes between songs... or his fantastically spastic dancing... or the utter cuteness of his one-hand-on-the-hip stage posture, but I think I fell a little bit in love with him last night. It's a goddamn shame I'm not volunteering at the hotel today, because I'm pretty sure that I would stand a decent chance of meeting him. *sigh*

ANYWAYS, here's a clip from a show he played last week somewhere, and I do believe he was wearing this exact same thing last night. The song is called "What Grace Means" and is apparently about his niece, Grace. It is perhaps the cutest and sweetest song EVER, and I strongly suspect that this is the real reason behind my new found love. Enjoy!




Soooo cute. *sigh*

I am the colour of anger. The colour of furious.

Here is a simple math equation for you all to ponder. I will even give you the answer to make it super easy for you:

PALE WHITE GIRL + SUNNY BEACH ON HOT DAY = REALLY GODDAMN BAD FRIGGIN

IDEA

But you probably already knew that. Because you are all so smart, my pets. I also knew that, but apparently chose to ignore the facts and use the rebel yell. And now I'm friggin BURNT. Bright red. All over. It sucks. I look stupid. Tanned people are judging me. I hate being pale. You all suck.

Happy Monday! I love you all.

This one is for all the lovers out there...

My dreams of kareoke-pop-idol-superstardom are all wrapped up in this song. If I sang this shit on Idol, people's minds would be BLOWN AWAY.




It's a nice day out. Watch this and it will get you feeling all romantic. Then you can go sing it to someone. Fuck this song is good. I kind of wish my hair was as flowy as Peter Cetera's. But that's just me.

And so I leave you with this...

WoooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooo baby please don't go...

PS: I am also considering a new career path. I was thinking that maybe I could get a bitchin' perm so that I could play the violin with an afro. I hear there is huge demand for afro sporting violinists. Ka-ching!

Woot! It's Friday! And I'm Super Bored!

Friday is always the busiest day of the week. I spend all day freaking out and doing a relatively insane amount of work in what I feel is not an adequate time period. But I'm a trooper. It usually takes me soooooooooooooooo long to get everything done. But today, I must have been really damn focused, because I'm totally done already. And now I'm bored again.

What to do, what to do...

Personally, I'm big on this napping under the desk business. I may just give it a shot. I think it is a hilarious theory to test out. I bet I'll be totally invisible when I climb under there. This is going to be so awesome! (Note: If you work with me and are reading this, please note that I was just lying about that whole sleeping under the desk thing. You know how it is with comedy. Sometimes you have to make up lies in order to get laughs. It's not pretty, but that's just the way things work, alright? Don't get mad at me... I didn't develop the system.)

So... Friday, huh? Pretty awesome. Yep. Pretty awesome...

Who am I, Master P?

I am so tired today. So very, very, very tired. I feel like a zombie. When I am communicating with my coworkers in a verbal manner (read: talkin' wit ma peeps) I feel like there are actual words coming out of my mouth, but I strongly suspect that I might really just be standing there saying something that sounds like "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhh? Uhhhhhhhhhhh." But really, there's no way to tell for sure. Perhaps there is a career as a hardcore rapper in my future after all. I mean, I am from the "dirty south". (OF CANADA!!!)















Or I could just skip the rappin' and go straight to Dancing with the Stars. Master P is an idiot.


Yesterday was crazy fun. Yep. That's right, bitches. I got paid to play games at the beach all day. Jealous much? HA! BUT... this all came with a price. All of that time in the sun left me right bloody exhausted! Also, there was a bit of running in the sand involved. So now my legs hurt. (Don't you laugh. That shit is harder than it looks! It is nothing like regular running!)

The other day I watched that episode of Seinfeld where George sleeps under his desk. At the time, it just seemed hilarious... but now it just seems so goddamn practical! I think I could make it work. I must say, I'm pretty tempted.
















There is something to be said about the understated genius of the George Costanza. The plan is almost foolproof!

But alas, I will not do so. *sigh* But I may just go to bed at 5:30. We'll see. Do apples help wake you up? Cause I have one of those. Holy crap, I'm tired.

C-U-T-E!

This just happened 2 mins ago. It was so cute I had to post it right away, before I forgot about it. The following conversation just occured outside my office:

Boss: "Do you have a green thumb?"
Cutest work lady ever (CWLE): "Oh no. I have a lousy thumb! There is no greeness in there at all."
B: *laughs* "Oh, I don't think you're that bad."
CWLE: "I've made plants cry before. It was sad."

HOW CUTE IS THAT????????? Pretty cute.

PS: On the way to the bus this morning, out of nowhere, I heard this REALLY LOUD singing. I think it was the kid across the street listening to his iPod. Weird thing is, he only sang one line and that was it. He was walking along, silently... and then...

"BAAAAAYYYYYYBEEEE YOOOOUUUU KNOWWWWW IT'S TRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE, YEAHHHHHHHHHH."

And then silence again. So weird. Plus, he totally sounded like a girl. What a spaz!

Go team awesome!

Today is Survivor day. I am super-stoked. I had to come into work early today... for no apparent reason, really. But I'm totally okay with it. Because I'm cool like that.

There is half an hour before we get to head out. So... again with the waiting. Always with the waiting. I think I will need to change my shirt ratio, due to a poor calculation of the weather. I am currently wearing 3 tank tops and a hoodie. This could be bad news, since it does not appear to be hot enough for the hoodie... yet not warm enough for the tank tops. It's a good thing I brought me some sleeves. Woot!

I just now realized how weird it sounds to say that I am wearing 3 shirts. But I am usually wearing a minimum of 2 on a daily basis. That's just how I roll. I enjoy working with the layers. What can I say? This is how we do it up.

HURRY UP, TIME! I'm 'bout ready to THROW DOWN. Like Randy "Macho Man" Savage did to people on a regular basis back in the day. (NOTE: I am very proud of myself for integrating the Macho Man reference. This is not something you hear every day.)

Gotta go. I have 15 mins to figure out how to use my out-of-office reply. I have never been out-of-office before, so I am new to this scene.

I'm like... a machine that manufactures catchphrases. For serious.

Here are some of the best things I have heard people say today (note that most of them are from me. I think I am hilarious.):

"I'm just going to play dumb..." - anon. (This one only makes sense to 2 people in the whole world.)

"Passive-aggresiveness is so hot right now." - me

"Dear chocolate, I think you are one of the most overrated foods ever. You are like the U2 of food." - Dave

"It's official - coffee goes well with sandwiches." - me

"Fact: Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated." - Dave

"I'm so mellow, Donovan is goddamn jealous of me." - me

That is all.

Questionable morals...

...or rather, a question of morality... or actually, more like a question about morals. Yes. That's it.

Apparently, the big boss says that today, due to a "hockey situation" we are permitted to leave work early today so that we may not miss a moment of game 7. Here lies my moral dilemma.

Is it morally wrong of me to leave work early for this reason? Cause I honestly don't give a flying you-know-what about the Stanley Cup this year. I could have gone through the past 2 weeks blissfully unaware of the fact that it was even happening. I would have been super okay with that. In fact... last night Lydia asked me if I wanted to go to the pub to watch the game and my answer (without a moment of hesitation) was a flat out "No".













Yeeeeah. See these guys? I don't really care about them.


SO... considering that I am hoping to completely avoid watching this silly little game, I need to know. Will I or will I not go to hell for possibly leaving early if I'm not going to watch the stupid game? Honestly, I think it's perfectly reasonable if I DO leave... because I should not be punished for not giving a crap about our nation's sport. So there.
















The red guy's all like "Woooo!" and the goalie guy's all like "WTF? I hate you." And I'm all "Shut up, bitches, I'm trying to watch reruns of the Simpsons. It's the one where Homer does something absoludicrous and then it all works out okay in the end."

A craptacularly busy Friday...

Today was so super fricken busy. It made me get the anger. The bad kind of anger, not the jokey kind of anger that I get when certain people make fun of me and try to convince me that I am a ghost. No. Not that kind. The kind where I start to talk really super fast and make aggresive hand gestures when I talk.

But then I got un-angry. Which I believe they call, "happy" in some cultures.

All because of Richard Cheese. That dude is fucking awesome. He makes me smile. And his milkshake brings all the boys to the yard because, that's right, it's totally better than yours.

SO... it is with great pleasure that I bring you this. (Consider this my grand gesture, Platypus.)





I love it. SO HARD. I'm outtie, bitches!

I put my pants on one leg at a time...

This one goes out to... ME!



You've all seen this a million times. But I will NEVER EVER get tired of watching this. I was almost crying just now, trying to stifle my laughter because I don't want everyone to know that I am in here watching goddamn videos. But I am. And I love it. If you don't laugh when Fallon starts to lose it, then perhaps you have no soul.

Oh, good times...

Have you ever seen an emo bunny cry?

I have. It crushed me. There are few things more touching in this world than emo bunnies crying. Don't believe me? See for yourself.

Now, I never much fancied myself as one of those "girly girls", mostly because I don't like wearing frou frou dresses and I am a total asshole, so I figured I was disqualified anyways. But it seems as though I might be a bit of one after all.

If you piss me off, sure I'll tear you a new one. But if you show me a picture of a cute puppy I'm all "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!" And men crying? FORGET IT. There is nothing worse than seeing boys cry. That's just too goddamn much to handle. And don't even get me started on babies with squishy faces.

This is just proof of all vicious stereotypes about women. Deep down, we are all schmoopy idiots. And it makes me want to vomit. SO, here is a pictoral summary of how I feel about the schmoopiness:

















This man is crying. Apparently he did not get the memo: THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL! Idiot. I hate you because if I saw you cry for reals, you would make me cry. Jerk.






















This is mostly just to save face. Cause I actually kind of enjoy babies... for like 30 seconds when I see them. Then I get pissed off again. I mean, where do they get off, being so cute?













Oh crap. I just can't EVER be mad at puppies! (This is my actual dog, Dee Dee Ramone. HOW FUCKING CUTE IS SHE? I MEAN, SERIOUSLY.)

SO BASICALLY... I am in some sort of weird paradox where I hate being stupidly emotional, yet I am... and now I hate paradoxes. I think. Screw you!

I am not as evil as you think I am because I give people presents for no reason.

Today I gave Bernie what I think is the coolest thing ever. This:











A can of BernieO's! If my name was Bernie, you're goddamn right I'd want this in my life. So awesome. If you ever see "SarahO's", please buy them for me. It will be a shining moment in my life.

Another super exciting thing that happened today was that I finally found a song that I had been searching for! This illusive search started the last time I got my hair cut. Alan and I were rockin' out to his super sweet ipod randomness and this song came on. I freaked out a little. It's totally rockin'. It will make you feel better for secretly loving Kelly Clarkson. Because I know you totally do.


On Saturday, I went to the Railway Club with Jess to check out Sparrow. It was absolutely lovely. I can't recommend them highly enough. SO GOOD. If you don't believe me, CLICK HERE. If you don't love it, then maybe we can't hang out anymore. (It's okay. I'll still love you anyways, cupcake. Just not as passionately as I once did.)

Love you, bitches!

PS: I loves me some Old School. Mostly because I loves me some Luke Wilson. I also loves me some TBS Superstation for playing it 4 times yesterday, even though I only watched it once. Sadly, there were no hilarious "wet brained binker" type edits. That kinda sucks, cause those are the best. Like when you find a stranger in the alps.

Some people say...

... that maybe you should not wear shorts when you have a giant mondo totally gnarly bruise on your calf.

I say: screw you! My legs are hot and I'm doing it anyways!

I have no idea where the bruise came from. But it looks pretty friggin' harsh, so it must have hurt when it happened. Perhaps I blocked it from memory as a coping mechanism... or maybe I just really need to learn how to not be a spaz.

Hence why I felt the Mr. T instructional video about "recoupin" was entirely necessary. If you have not yet watched it, you should really do so. It will help you so much in life, I can't even tell you.

In fact, I tried to recoup on Friday, when I was getting a giant case of beer out of a cooler at the beer store and squished my finger. I nearly managed to convince Dave that I could actually cry on command. It would have totally worked if I had not kept saying "owwweeeeeee!" Lesson learned.

Recoupin'! Take it from T.

I'm all about helping my peeps. SO... you better watch this, just in case you should ever fall down in front of a businessman. You just never know when shit like that is going to happen!



That is absoludicrous!

My goodness you look Superstore...tastic!

Superstore-tacular? Either way you go about it, I look super cute today in my new jacket which was purchased at Superstore. It is my new favourite place to buy clothes. It is super awesome, and I suggest that you go there. Immediately. But don't buy that navy and white striped dress, cause I already have it, bitches.

In other news, it is Friday! Do you know how I feel about Friday? Pretty much like this:



I love Fridays this much! Time to go get drunk! WOOOOOO!

Dreams really DO come true!

Yesterday, I witnessed a miracle. It was something so beautiful... I don't know if words alone can describe it. But I will try.

I accidentally got full cable.

HOW AWESOME IS THAT???????????????????????

I was watching tv... and then the cable went out for a minute... then it came back on... and I got all these channels I never got before! It was spectacular!

SO... I watched a little bit of TBS Superstation, followed by some A&E and snippets of the Family Channel for fun. But then came the truly good times. A little something I like to call SHOWCASE.

That channel kicks some serious behind! I watched Trailer Park Boys and some other show I'd never seen before about an anthropologist... and then it was time for the big guns. That's right folks, for the first time in about a year, I FINALLY got to watch the super hot Denis Leary on his super hot show Rescue Me. It's only like... the awesomest show ever. I love it. And it is in reruns for Season 2 (which I missed entirely) so let's hope this cable business hangs on for long enought for me to catch the whole season! WOOOOOOOO!

I love you, full cable. Let's never be apart again. Ever.

Go Team Awesome!

Today I was faced with the tremendously intimidating task of trying to come up with a team name. It is SO HARD. Everything I think of has the word "awesome" in it (ie: Team Awesome, The People's Republic of Awesome) or is ripped off from some tv show that nobody else but me cares about (ie: Jesse and the Rippers). I swear, if my team were made up of people my age that were exactly like me in every way, that last one would have killed.

So I am stuck. Hopefully one of my other super awesome team members will come up with something brilliant. Cause if you're looking for brilliant, you ain't gonna find it here, sugar.

ANYWAYS, so this whole tv show thing got me thinking about something. I have always wished to be a part of a group of friends that calls each other by nicknames from M*A*S*H.

Seriously. How cool would that be? But how do you figure out who gets to be which character?

Now obviously, I truly wish I was a Hot Lips Houlihan. But let's face it. I'm probably more of a Radar, than anything else. (It's those goddamn glasses. And the short hair.) I wouldn't mind being a BJ Hunnicut either, cause that guy was witty. Much like myself. (HA!)

You can't just give yourself a nickname, or else I'd have a million sweet ones by now. But so far, I don't have anything decent. All I'm asking for is one super cool nickname. Even if it's not from M*A*S*H. Anything from a John Hughes movie would also be pretty okay.

That is all. See ya, sport-o.

PS: I have been waiting for a situation to arise where I could call someone "Sport-o", but nobody I know is allowing this to happen. Do any of you people even play sports? Own running shoes, even? COME ON! I may have to give some attitude to some volleyball nerds down at Kits in order to facilitate this, so I might need some backup.

Miss Stephanie says something inappropriate AND HILARIOUS!

Here is an excerpt from a conversation which took place last night. I did not deliver the punchline. It was all Steph on this one!

Me: "Where are we going to eat?"
Steph: "Well, we've got Chinese, Japanese, Pasta, Pizza, or as Tracy suggested, Ethiopian."
Me: "Ethiopian, totally." (with sarcasm)
Steph: "What is Ethiopian food anyways? I thought they didn't eat."
*laughing, laughing*
Me: "Well that was just horrible... awful, really... good one!"

The End.

Emo is the new black.

It seems like everyone is going emo lately, so I figured I would give it a try too. And what is more emo than writing poetry? NOTHING. So here is my poem:

"Riding the Bus to Sadsville, USA. Population: ME."

Poetry
is mostly for assholes
who think they are smarter than you
and that is deliciously ironic:
like when a foreigner wins a Juno.

There is so much pain
because I just
hyperextended my elbow
and there was a cracking sound.

I blame you for this.


Emo is hard, yo. Did I do it right?

WHAT IS GOING ON???

Blogger deleted my post. So I got mad and wrote a rant. Then it un-deleted it. That is friggin' weird.

So... blogger is so super awesome! I love it!

Are you watching me right now?

Me + Blogger = BFF!

If you don't hear from me in 3 days, please come look for me.

Hello, Monday. What is up?

It's Monday morning. And you know what? That's not so bad. It could be worse.














Looks like somebody has a case of the Mondays...

Mondays are usually pretty low key for me at work, so I don't really mind them. It's kind of nice to ease back into the work week. It's pretty okay with me.

We always have a meeting on Monday mornings to figure out what's going on over the next 2 weeks and stuff. Those meetings sometimes make me angry. Because I always have SO MUCH CRAP TO DO. What makes it worse is that the other guys laugh at me cause I always have SO MUCH CRAP TO DO.

For example, this morning's meeting went something like this:

Boss Guy: "All this stuff is for Sarah... more for Sarah... more for Sarah..."
Me: "Grrrr..."
Platypus: "HAHAHA!"
Me: "Shut up."
BG: "... more stuff for Sarah..."
Platypus: "Sucker!"
Me: "SHUT UP."
BG: "... and this one is for Sarah..."
Me: "Crap."
Platypus: "HAHAHAHAHA!"
Me: "Seriously. Shut UP."
BG: "...Sarah gets more stuff..."
Me: "Grrrr."
Platypus: "That's a lot of stuff. HAHAHA!"
* I half-assed kick him in the foot and glare*
BG: "... and another one for Sarah..."
*Platypus giggles like a girl*
Me: "Shut up."
Platypus: "You shut up."
Me: "I'm going to kill you."
***MEETING ENDS***
All the guys: "Have fun with that." "Yeah, have fun!" "Hee hee hee."
Me: "Shut it."

This was followed by an incident at the fax machine when somebody (gee, don't know WHO that would be...) tried to put the Sully mask on my face when I was trying to read. The mask is awesome and all, but having masks on my face supremely freaks me the fuck out.

Now it is almost lunch. I think I am going to get udon. It will be good times.

Joyeux Monday, mes amis!

An open letter to Sunday.

Dear Sunday,

You are awesome. We should totally hang out more. Do you want to come over to my house and watch Saved by the Bell? Cause that is what I am doing right now. It is one of the episodes where they are working at the beach club. AC Slater walks around in swim trunks all the time. It is good times. Things will only get better from here... because Full House is on after this! It is the one where Uncle Jesse tries to learn how to dance so he can get a record contract. I love it. So hard.

ANYWAYS, I just wanted to say thanks for being you. BFF!

Love,

Sarah

PS: If any of you fools can think of awesomer ways to spend a Sunday, I'd like to hear about it. Because I think it's tough to top these sweet plans!


MY SUNDAY

















Coming soon to a SUPER SWEET WEEKEND near you, bitches.

It tastes (and smells) like burning.

I had some yams that I needed to heat up to put on a salad. I put it in the microwave for about 1 minute to heat them up.

Those little bastards burnt to a crisp.

Now the whole building smells like burning.

There was smoke coming out of the microwave! There was panic in the lunch room! Tupperware was sacrificed! And now my clothes smell like fire.

So kids, the message is: don't mess around with yams, because they mean business.

Seriously. They will fuck up your shit.

And make you smell like camping.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The bigger the better...

FYI, I am listening to "Bang!" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. This song is wicked awesome. Check it.

ANYWAYS, I noticed something weird and I wanted to share it with you. I decided to finally check out this whole "Raconteurs" business, and boy am I glad I did! Cause it rocks my world a little bit. I mean HELLO! Brendan Benson (who writes the catchiest songs evs) and Jack White (you bitches know what goes on there) in the same band??? GOOD TIMES.













Notice how Jack White is standing in the back. That is his way of non-verbally acknowledging that he's way the hell more famous than the rest of them. The weird smirky smile? That says, "Remember bitches, I don't need you, but I love you anyways."


HOWEVER... when I was listening to the song "Steady As She Goes" my nerd radar picked something up. What exactly? A total ripoff Joe Jackson ripoff, that's what!

Seriously. Listen to the intro. The bass thing is totally from "Is She Really Going Out With Him?". NO JOKE. Listen to it, and tell me I'm not crazy. I can totally hear it.

I still think the song rocks your pants off. Enjoy!

What's up? I'm the captain of the idiot patrol. Nice to meet you.

I'm beginning to wonder if one can actually develop A-D-D over a gradual period of time. Cause I'm pretty sure I have it. I've done about 3 things completely back-asswards already and it's not even lunch time!

I swear, I am getting stupider by the minute. I blame this on the media. (Just seems like the appropriate place to lay blame... everyone else does it!)

Maybe I should read War and Peace - backwards and upside down for the extra challenge - just to make myself feel normal again.

Wah.