Tuesday, June 26, 2007

well that just fucks

Damn…I just thought that I might actually be able to coin a really good phrase. My finger slipped while I was chatting with my friend, and instead of saying, “Could be good”, it came out, “Could be god”. So I was just about to say, “Oops, Freudian slip”, but then it occurred to me that it was actually a Freudian typo. Which I thought was exceedingly clever. Of course, a million people have already thought of it, and it’s already in the Urban Dictionary - although it’s not a very interesting definition…I’ll have to see if I can come up with anything better.

Anyway, I was just a little upset because I thought I was being all witty and intellectual, but it turns out, as usual, I’m about 3 years too late.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Some people take 'bite me' too literally

I knew it was going to be a fucked up day as soon as I got up.

There’s this, I dunno, repair crew I guess, that works on the GO Train tracks behind my apartment. I says ‘works’, but in reality, I don’t know what the fuck it actually is that they’re up to. Whatever it is, they’ve been doing it for the last year and a half, since I moved into this place. There’s this one little dump truck/tractor thing who’s only function seems to be driving around backwards. So that it makes this horrible high pitched beeping noise that just makes me want to gouge my eardrums out with a chopstick. I truly believe that this thing actually can no longer drive forwards, but in typical Government of Ontario fashion, that they have elected not to fix it, and this is why it only ever drives backwards. I have spent many long hours glaring out the window at this architect of my misery, and have never, ever, seen it move forwards. Although it must – or how else could it continually return, to continue its ever present early morning torment of my sleep?

Anyway, it turns out that this infernal beeping is actually the only thing that gets my lazy ass out of bed in the morning. So, instead of the joyous rapture that I’ve fantasized about enjoying on that oh so happy day that there is finally no beeping to wrest me from my well-deserved slumber; I’m just late for work. Again. Fuck.

I have a touch of a sore throat, so I haven’t been biking into work the last few days. Back in to the warn embrace of the Toronto Transit Commission I venture once again. Now, as I believe I’ve expounded on in the past, TTC drivers are not my favorite people at the best of times, but damn, was the one this morning ever brutal. I put my $2.75 in the fare thing, and the driver tells me I didn’t pay enough! So I’m like, “Oh yes I did! Look, right there, two toonies, and 3 whole quarters. $2.75.” And of course I have no more change on me, just twenties. And there is NO WAY that I’m putting a twenty in there.

Now this driver dude, he wasn’t looking so healthy. Real grey looking. Not so much with the hand eye coordination, either. I lived through SARS, so when someone who has that much contact with the general public starts getting all in my face, I’m not too thrilled about it. “Fare went up” he says. “Since when?!?!” my indignant ass says back. “Since now, puny human. $2.75 plus brains now.”

I’m sorry, did you say BRAINS?

“Braaaains”

Ok – so it looks like it’s a cab to work morning. Really - they should give TTC drivers a psych test before they hire them, this is just getting ridiculous...

Evil Dead! The Musical, is playing in Toronto right now, again, as I’ve expounded upon in the past. The one good thing about this morning is that I noticed that they really seem to have their street team in gear. There were people dressed up as zombies everywhere! Right at the corner of King and John, near the theatre where Evil Dead is playing, there was this huge performance piece deal going on with zombies ripping the shit out of people and fake blood flying around everywhere. And damn, did the fake blood look good. It looked way more real than even the blood they used in the performance. I’ve gotta figure out where they got it from for this Halloween.

But I digress...

So, I get to work. Like an hour late. And there’s nobody there. What the fuck is up with that? Seriously. Brutal TTC driver, I waste my money on a cab, and those dicks that I work with aren’t even there. I am pissed. However, this does give me time to read. So I settle down, in the hall to wait, and read some more of Bruce Campbell’s autobiography, If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor. Oh Bruce, you’re my hero…

So I sit. And I read. And I sit. And I read. And no one shows up. And no one answers their cell. And I sit. And I read. Am I pissed? You bet.

So I give up. I waited an hour. (Technically two, if you count that hour I was late.). Anyway. I go outside, and my boss is lumbering around out there. And he looks like shit. His skin’s gone all gray, too, just like that streetcar driver. It must be some nasty ass virus that’s going around. “Hey, asshole! Where have you been? I’ve been sitting in the hall waiting for you forever!”

“Need. Braaaaains”

Well, I’ve known that for while. Nice to see you finally admit it though, I think to myself. And then, he bit me! What is up with that? I mean, yeah, I suppose I can be a bit hard to work with sometimes, but that was sooo uncalled for.

So…I trudge back home. Mop up my poor bleeding arm. Do I have to get a rabies shot now? And I really feel like ass. I think I must have picked up that nasty virus that everybody has. My skin looks like shit – gray is not a good tone for me. Look, I took a pic of myself – do you think I need to go see a doctor?

>

This post was brought to you by the good people at Blog like it's the end of the world

Also, mad props to Lauren for doing up that amazing zombie pic of me and to my dear little sister Muffin for coming up with the post title.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Sorry, Pumpkins

I know, I'm a horrible little blogger. I've been very neglectful.

Well, too bad. It's warm out. The patios were calling my name :)

But now I'm sick, so I come crawling back into your warm embrace. Also, I've been very blasé lately - too emotionally drained to get up in to a good lather. But all is well, I still love you.

I do have news to report. Durham County is possibly the greatest show of all time. Hugh Dillon, who was once the lead singer for The Headstones, who I completely adore, stars in this Canadian 'mini-series', as it's being termed. Although I, personally, am not a fan of his new bald look, I still do quite enjoy that I get the chance to stare at him and drool again.

Back to the point, it's an amazing show. Completely dark and twisted, and with this creepy doll thing going on that has me completely fascinated.

Everyone should go watch it. NOW!!!

And there's even more Hugh Dillon-y goodness yet to come! In his interview on The Hour, hosted by George Oh-my-god-I-want-to-have-your-babies Stroumboulopoulos, hugh said that they're making a sequel to Hard Core Logo!!! *does cartwheels of joy*

*remembers that she can't do cartwheels and falls flat on her metaphorical ass*

Also, Hugh's new band, The Hugh Dillon Redemption Choir, is working on a new album. Hurray!

Now, for your, (OK, my), viewing pleasure:

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