Pet peeves today

January 31, 2012 § 4 Comments

Okay, just 10 things getting on my nerves of late:

  1. Auto correct fucking up my posts.
  2. People who yell at their kids to shut up and are louder than the kids were being.
  3. Telemarketers who hang up when you tell them you do not own the home.  Ignoring the fact that you were fucking polite to them.
  4. People who take the last gas pump in the gas bar and park too far from it that no one can get passed.
  5. Cats who use curtains as a way to get eye level with you to gain your attention.
  6. Birds chirping in the morning.  Why do they have to be so fucking cheerful?
  7. Twitter (I’m not it but I resent how it is everywhere).
  8. Watering plants.  Needy little fuckers.
  9. C buys mandarin oranges everytime he goes shopping and never eats them.  I have like 12 cans of mandarin oranges in my cupboard.  But C will go buy more fruit before he eats those, and with them, more tins of mandarin oranges.
  10. No-name ginger-ale, tastes like ass.
I’ve had a pig of a headache today, and feel very bitchy, can you tell?  I’m tired of fighting it.  C left for his afternoon shift and won’t be back until after midnight, so I can be a whiny, bitchy ass until tomorrow.  
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Good news I am the last surviving member of a millionaire’s

January 30, 2012 § 6 Comments

Extended family. Fucking awesome. Not really sure how that could happen with both my parents being alive. But they sent me an email so it HAS to be true. All I need to do to collect my inheritance is set up an account with 50,000 dollars in it for legal fees, and i’ll have me 22,500,000 by the next day. Sweet. So anyone wanna spot me 50 grand;). I’ll be your best friend:P

pissing contest

January 29, 2012 § 4 Comments

   C is in a foul mood.  Work shit.  Anyway, had I known about his day I would not have volunteered to drive to Brantford with him.  Well he was telling me about his really shit day.  Me making sympathetic sounding stuff come out of my mouth while wondering why the fuck did I not ask about his day BEFORE being stuck in the car for over an hour with him?  He’s funny when he is pissy though, because he really tries to get a good swearing rhythm going, but it is something he seldom and it always sounds so forced.  Anyway, on our way home C feels better.  Then this guy is driving really aggressively and getting him all wound up again.  Stupid fucking prick, after all my pretending to be listening finally was paying off.  Lots of trucks on the road, this prick not oonly tried to overtake Chris from the inside, but off a fucking exit ramp lane.  C would not let him in, and the dickhead had the gall to honk his horn and flip us off.
   Now that could have been the end, and would have, but the guy made a point, once he was back on the road to get behind C, and not just tail gate, no.  That guy was so far up our ass I am pretty sure it qualified as a threesome.  Anyway, lucky us, he went off on the same exit as we did.  C pulls into the parking lot of the LCBO, and this guy follows us in.  Fine, I get out, picked up a bottle of rum, out I go, C is still fuming in the car watching this guy who does not take a parking spot but is sitting in the middle of the parking lot.  C goes to pull out and this fucking prick pulls in back of us and stop and honked his horn.  Now C has a temper.  It burns very slow, but once ignited…. yeah, he has a temper.  He laid on the horn.
   “Big tough guy behind the wheel…” stupid stupid man yelled.  Now see, there are some things that do not go down well with C.  Accusing him of cowardice is a big one.  Well no guy likes that, but C has the size and temper to back it up.  Me…. my common sense over-rides my bruised ego ALMOST all the time.  So C is out of the car, and the guy drives to the next row of cars over, still shouting on C to “come on tough guy”… taunting while inside his car a block of cars over.
   “I’m here, where are you?  In your car?  Who’s the big tough guy behind the wheel now, fucker?”  Eventually the guy drove off and C got in the car.  “Shit that was stupid.”  He said it for me.  Hamilton boys, they could have a handy baseball bat if they are picking a fight.
   “Feel better after winning the dick war?”
   “Actually yes.”  He’s a bit retarded I think.

I know stupid people

January 24, 2012 § 16 Comments

I do.  I’m not just bragging.  Now there is a girl in my school…. we’ll call her Samantha (because that’s her name and no one in my uni reads my blog so FTW).  Sam is…well… dumb as a bag of hammers.  Now she is book smart… well okay book not-so-stupid, but she was in her second year with a sociology major before she knew what sociology meant (and no I am not making it up, she asked us).  She truly believed that condoms cause AIDS, and is probably the poster child why Ontario should rid itself of Roman Catholic schooling.

ANYWAY…. I just wanted you to grasp who this came from.  And Please, make no mistake, Samantha is probably the sweetest and nicest person you will ever want to meet…

She was talking about that stupid Tim Tebow thing with the 316 yards and all the other crappola they can cram 316 into.  How amazing the Lord is to give messages to his believers.  I asked her if good old timmy had ever passed for 317 or 315 yards, and she did not know.  I pointed out that the only reason 316 was brought up was because of the mere coincidence of it being his favorite quote in the bible (yeah, and that is so fucking rare, right?).  And she actually looked at me and said (and I am not making this up) “Yeah, but coincidences just don’t happen for no reason.”

My brain actually hurt.  I think it was sympathy pains for Samantha’s poor unused brain.

“Hey, Sam, do you own a dictionary?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Go home and look up the word coincidence, would you?”
My friend Ali is laughing her ass off and Samantha laughed, stopped, looked at Ali and said “I don’t know what he means.”

So no matter what stupid things you do in your week, know this, you are not Samantha.

C had to work today

January 21, 2012 § 14 Comments

Which really blows, but they lost a line at work, so until they repair that line, they have overtime.  Better than the other poor bastards on that line that are now laid off until the line is back up and running.  Anyway, to keep me occupied, and to cheer him up I figured I would make something nice for dinner.  Saturday is usually his day to cook, and I was going to make it a surprise, but then I was not sure if he would like what my mind had decided was a perfect meal.  I texted him “You like eggplant”
“Yes, y”
“Making dinner”
“Thx”
So out I go to the vegetable market, I was going anyway as I was getting stuff for Nonna, which is what put eggplant parmesan in my head to start with.  So I pick up everything, get home, start cooking.  Okay, while I will say that it may not be the toughest thing to cook, it is very time consuming.  So he gets home and I take it out of the oven.

“What’s that?” he points at the eggplant.
“Eggplant Parmesan.”
“That’s not eggplant”
“Yes it is”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes it fucking is.”
So he explains slowly, like he is talking to a moron.  “No, eggplant is the long skinny vegetable that looks a bit like a cucumber.”
“No, that would be a zucchini.  Eggplant is a big purple thing.”
“Oh, okay.  Then I don’t like eggplant.”

“And that is when the gun just went off officer”

Anyway, we ate, he picked around the fucking eggplant, ate the pasta anyway, and the garlic bread.  After dinner he says, “Sorry about the eggplant thing.”

Winning like Charlie Sheen:P

January 21, 2012 § 8 Comments

   I was a bargainer when I was a kid.  I never took things at face value convinced I was always being low-balled.  I think it comes from being raised in a city with so many immigrants where in markets and most commissioned stores my family took price tags as the starting negotiated price.  “Time to go” in the park would lead to “three more slides”, my mother countering “one more slide”, “Two more”, deal.
   Bedtime was a negotiation of stories.  One story was the rule but then the “short ones” would come in to play.
   One day (no memory of this but heard about it enough I almost remember it) when I was about 3 or 4 maybe, driving to Toronto: “how much longer?”
My mother “Half hour”
Me: “Five minutes”
My mother: “No a half hour”  Oooo, someone wants to play hard ball.
Me: “Fifteen minutes.”
My mother : “No, we cannot get there any quicker Jamie.  It’s going to be a 30 minutes”, Oooo now we have room for negotiation.
Me “Ten minutes.”
At this point my dad is laughing and my mother is getting frustrated and asks him what is so funny.  “You arguing with someone who doesn’t know how to tell time.”
My Mother : “Fine ten minutes”
I win.

I am exhausted

January 15, 2012 § 16 Comments

   I have done three 12 hour shifts in a row…. yet I cannot sleep.  I am so fucking high right now.  No, not like that.  I am on an emotional high.  So full of empty energy, bouncing like a 5 year old on a sugar rush.

   Today a dog was brought in.  He ate something he was not supposed to.  Whether allergic reaction or poison, unknown at the time, but very ill.  I had him on a table, hooking him into monitor equipment when it happened.  He stopped breathing.  His airway had totally swollen up.  at the time both VODs were in surgery.  Intubation was just not happening, his restricted airway was drawn up too tight.  Now I am not strictly speaking, allowed to cut into a patient.  But, under life or death situation, with a vet-tech there, I can perform life saving operations.  So, We (the vet-tech and I) did a tracheotomy.  Scared shitless, yep.  Successful, yep.  So here I sit, a pitbull-husky cross alive because of me.  Best day at work EVER.

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