Americans, We Need to Talk

I am just going to come out and say this directly because there really is no other way: your iced tea sucks. It's basically cold tea and ice.

For the love of God people, what part of "iced" and "tea" do you not get? (The the sickly sweet, high viscosity, artificial lemon flavour, with zero percent tea content, like we drink it in Canada, is implied.)

I saw..

Mr. Street Cred, Carson Daly on tv the other day. He's so diminutive and he's lost so much weight that he is like a leprechan now!

I'm telling you it's hard to keep the hate going.

Cats Vs. Other Things As Pets

Cats are independent!

Hobos are also independent. They ride the rails all day; and they pack their own lunch in a bandana and then tie it to a stick. I have never seen a cat do that.

Cats are really clean!

So is my mother-in-law but I haven't seen any of you attempting to take her as a pet.
And, let's be honest -- this is a very liberal interpretation of the word "clean". Cats lick their little paws and then wipe their fur with their cat spit.

Oh, but cats poop in a box! (like that's a good thing!)

And that brings us right back to hobos.

Cats are self-reliant! They aren't all slobbery-loving-all-over-you like dogs, rather they are only sweet to you when they want something.

Is this really so special, do none of you have husbands?

So far, I remain unconvinced.

Some tips for those courting fame

Tip number one: Take it from the celebs, fame is hard! And someone should warn you. So I am doing it.

If you get famous, here's what might happen:

(Please note: If you get to the level of superstardom, where you're making $20 million dollars or so per movie, or your albums are selling millions of copies, then the likelihood that these things will happen to you increases exponentially.)

Photographers will probably hound you and take pictures of you in your fat pants, wearing no make up (maybe even no fat pants -- meow!) and with you hair looking bad.
A big old box of Krispy Kremes tucked under your arm. On your way to drug rehab. If you get arrested, they will show pictures of you in handcuffs. And your unflattering mug shot will be everywhere.

They will pay more for pictures of your cellulite, or any tummy fat hanging over the top of your $4,000 bikini bottoms. They will actually want pictures of you when you are drunk and in your red-nosed, slobbery faced, "let-me-tell-you-another-thing" glory.

Comedians will make jokes at your expense. And comedians are usually relentless and sometimes mean.

They will take pictures of your kids. Even though your kids didn't ask for this life!

People like Diane Sawyer will ask you very personal questions like "Why did your marriage end?" on national television. (Even on local telly that would be uncomfortable!) And you'll have to be all indignant about it. The audacity!

And they WILL take pictures of your kids.

You might, like many have, attempt to hold others responsible for your predicament by blaming the people who buy the magazines that publish these photos. But Enquirer buyer, Mrs. Josephine AdminiClerk, has enough crap to deal with, what with working full time and cleaning her own house, cooking her own meals, and taking care of her own kids, and she doesn't really have time to worry about you. And even your best celebrity shaming techniques aren't going to work on everyone.

Everyone's job has some component that is not enjoyable; that is why people get paid to do it. The photographer probably hates the waiting 15 hours in the bushes to get a pic of a famous person part of his job, but he does it to get paid.

So please consider yourself warned. I don't want to hear you complaining about this stuff from your compound in 10 years. I don't want to hear "I didn't sign up for this!" because you know, what? You kinda did.

Umm

There was another plane scare the other day; something about an errant hijack code. So the plane was diverted to Canada.

So, if I am following this, the policy seems to be if there might be a bomb aboard a plane that is destined for the USA, send it to Canada!

As a Canadian, I have to tell you, I am not really crazy about this policy.

Would You Marry Yourself?

I am reluctant to write this post because it involves admitting that I sometimes, I said SOMETIMES watch "The View". But, since I am a humanitarian all the way through to the bone (haha I said bone), I am going to admit that I watched it today. And one of today's "Hot Topics" was about some attention seeking wanker who has alerted the press that he intends to marry himself. The fact that the press found that sufficiently newsworthy is probably the real "hot topic", but I digress.

So "the ladies" asked each other: "Would you marry yourself?"

I don't remember what any of them said. (Except for bizarre Meredith)

Then I thought about it for me.

My answer?

No.

Frankly, I think I could do a lot better.

Things I'd Do if I Were a Feller

1. I'd write my name in the snow. But I wouldn't stop there. I'd also write my name on the side of my old high school, and maybe, if I could track him down on a certain former boyfriend's car. And my local Starbucks. Then probably on some sort of prison document because with all that public urination that is where I would be going. Bummer!

2. I'd grow a moustache because a) I could and b) because no one is wearing them these days and I like to be different.

3. At children's soocer games I'd announce my presence with a loud "Hellllllo Ladies!"

4. I'd shop at Mr. Big 'N' Tall because even if I weren't, it seems manly.

5. I'd adress my male friends as "bitches" because it's what all the kids are doing, and if you do that as a woman, it is always followed by a very uncomfortable silence.

Everything that is wrong with the internet

Overwhelming Searches: Type nearly anything into Google and you will get a search result of over a million hits. Well newsflash, Al Gore, I am a stay at home mom. I do not have time to follow more than 500,000 of those links before I have to haul my ass of the computer to watch Oprah. Or shop for a zippered fleece vest and another pair of high waisted Calvins at Costco. Or call up my friend and ask what she thinks of Michael Douglas's face lift. The point is, I'm busy.

Blogrolls: After countless hours of surfing the internet you happen, as if some miracle, upon a blog that is not only well written, but hip, and funny! And oh how you laugh. Ah haha! You then notice that this clever, charming, witty one-in-a-million has some links. You think, well, this has got to be some good linking because this person knows funny! So you click on one of their "must reads" or "Super faves" or whatever it is they call them, and find that hmmm, it's not so funny. Not to worry you think, try another. Same problem. Then it hits you: cliques! The blogroll is a tool for internet-style nepotism, and yet another way Al Gore has devised to waste my time.

Snarky or Let-Me-Tell-You-How-It-Really-Is comments from people who are not really in a position to tell me anything except maybe How to be a better asshole: I have had a number of those and I just keep them there. Let your assholism ring I say. I don't know how other people handle them, but they annoy me when I see them on others blogs, too. Nasty commenter and/or pedantic commenter, you're bringing down the room.

For the Love of God, People, It's

LIE down.

Please stop saying "I am going to lay down".

It's lie down, mofo. Lie.

Let's...

change the name "blogosphere" to "margaritaville". It just sounds way more fun!

Nosy parker: "Where were you for the last three hours?"

You: Margaritaville!

Then you can change your name to Chad and start giving people high fives and making that shooting gun move people do with their hand because you're a dude who hangs out in margaritaville and no one would expect anything less from you.

How To Tell If You Are Really Crazy

As I roam the vast halls of the internet, I come across many sites where people identify themselves as "crazy". I believe this to be a misnomer, and suggest that instead of being "crazy" what those people are is either a) "zany" b) "kooky" or c) "whacky".

But, in case you are still wondering, here is my definitive checklist for craziness.

Does the communication in your romantic relationships fall solely into the category of "telepathic"? (Not unlike my love affair with Johnny Depp who sends me life telepathic affirming messages like "You rock" "You are an excellent driver" "Your ass looks totally excellent in those pants").

Do you think that, and I am not committing you to anything here, but, do you think that there's a really good chance that you are the next messiah?

Do you have more than 21 cats?

How about zany hats? Do you wear a lot of those? (Bonus point if your hat serves a dual purpose like being super fetching and also filters out any kind of harmful rays or if the hat is made from an aluminum pie plate).

In enclosed areas, do people stand as far away from you as possible? (But that could also be B.O.)

Do you mumble angrily to yourself and then stare intensely at people nearby? (Deduct one point if you are the computer dude at your place of work)

Man, the internet is really pissing me off today.

No, it's not just the internet, it's the Blogosphere. First, I hate that I had to type that word, because frankly I didn't think I could hate a word more than "'blog" but lo and behold, turns out I can, and that word is "blogosphere".

But anyway, here's what's bugging me right now. Links. You heard me! I have to read three goddam sentences of some description of something and then I have to click a link to go elsewhere! You gotta make me work for it, don't you, you bastard? It leaves me bitter and resentful.

Some people set their introductions up as "teasers". Like "OH, this is so interesting! You HAVE GOT TO SEE IT TO BELIEVE IT!!!" Dot, dot, dot hypertext!Frankly, the three exclamation points should probably tip me off, but I am an imperfect woman. Nine times out of 10 it's a picture of a cat wearing a hat or smoking a cigar or something else that I am not interested in seeing.

You know who I like? The people who post the pictures right up front on the main page, on the blog. And of course I am not interested in seeing them either, but at least I didn't have to do anything.

Picture posters, here's what I want to see:

1. Bigfoot
2. Johnny Depp

English People*, We Need To Talk

That is, if anyone of us can understand what the hell it is you are trying to say!

Yesterday I was enjoying a leisurely scroll (my God, where else are you going to get a quality pun like that one. Not since The Family Circle!) through the Blogosphere (normally wouldn't use that word but need it to keep the dazzling metaphor going) when I happened across a weblog called Whateva Sista that illustates my point about the British vocabulary exceptionally well. You should go check it out.

The whole language is practically porn.

1. "Feeling a bit peckish". Sounds dirty

2. "Toad in the Hole". Sounds really dirty and not particularly flattering to either the toad or the hole.

3. "Popped in". Again, dirty sounding.

4. "Sausage roll". As a noun, unappealing. As a verb, dirty!

Let's get it together, Brits!

* Suddenly angry English people who feel like commenting about what an idiot I am and how much I hate English people, let me tell you this. Of course I hate English people, but that is only because of Hugh Grant; and I already know I am an idiot because I have the English 121 paper about Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" in which I refer altogether too much to the "existential horror of man's existence" to prove it. So don't be thinking you're telling me something I don't know. And if you're still tempted to email me, I'm just kidding. Honest. But not about Hugh Grant.

Yes, I Watched the Academy Awards

and that is three hours of my life I will never get back.

A couple of things I learned:

Sean Penn not only has no sense of humour, he is also a world leader is the ancient art of Buzzkill. I am pretty sure he stole that title from my elementary school librarian who had a one-two-three punch that would instantly and simultaeously shut you up-make you feel guilty-bring down the room. KAPOW! Sean Penn, you make Mrs. Olmsteader proud.

Seeing the "lesser" awards being handed out made me realize that somewhere in the world people are still doing that cruel thing to fat kids in gym class, where they have to stand up in a line and wait to be chosen, only to discover they never will be. But now they do that in front of a billion people!

Beyonce is the now only singer left in the whole world, oh except for that other singer, (!?!) Antonio Banderas.

Hillary Swank is married to Chad Lowe!

Words I Have Never Really Been Comfortable With

1. Boogie

2. Lover

3. Whimsical

4. Ponderings

5. "Mr. D.J."

Bad Decisions I Have Made and the Reasoning Behind Them

1. In High School I refused to take typing because I "didn't want to be a secretary". What I failed to see in all my 15 year old wisdom was that it's not just secretaries who type.

2. I took a specialized archaeolgy course in Human Osteology because I thought it "sounded neat". By the time I discovered it was more "really hard" than neat, it was too late to withdraw.

3. Bought Beanie Babies as "an investment".

4. Made friends with the weirdo girl no one wanted to be friends with because I felt sorry for her. Turns out there were reasons no one wanted to befriend her.

Hey Blogger by Google, Want Some Tips For Improving Your Service? Well, Here You Go

1. Find a way to get my computer to dispense soft drinks. That way, instead of cursing your asses when my blog takes 20 minutes to load, I will just sit back and sip a soda. Win-win!

2. Modify your search engine so it can find my keys. That one's just for the people.

3. Make a Google Time Machine. And when you do, man am I going to use that. (First stop, go back to the 80s and stop myself from trying to sign up for the Robbie Neville fan club, like a dork!)

I await my thank you note.

Delicious and Suspicious

I do not like sushi, largely because of its unpleasant taste, and also because in some ways it makes me think of "The Emporer's New Clothes". And the people I know who say they love sushi, always say it like this : "I loooooooooooooove sushi!"

And I say, "the rice, with the seaweed and the raw fish?"

And they usually add something like "Well, there's also cucumber!" They seem defensive about it, which adds to my theory that people only pretend to like it.

Then I weigh that theory against the fact that it is the number one snack food in Japan, and that it seems unlikely that the entire population of Japan, who to the best of my knowledge I have not met, not to mention hundreds of thousands of people all over the world are only eating it to prove me wrong.

But you never know.

Scrappy!

I love the Simpsons, but that Poochie episode, come on! Despite what The Man (yes Simpsons writers, that is what you have become!) tries to make you think, Scrappy Doo was a cute, no, super cute puppy, who wise cracked! What's not to like: a puppy, plus a wise ass, it's an unbeatable combination! Why can't the haters see that?

Here is something that has been bothering me for a long time

Why was my girlhood idol, Veronica Lodge, so totally obsessed with Archie Andrews, when Reggie was right there in front of her? WHY!? Reggie was way better looking, plus he has that cool sports car, and Archie was driving around in a jalopy for God's sake! Archie was also two-timing her with that insipid Betty Cooper. Betty Cooper! Really, the idea is preposterous. Uh, did Betty Cooper's parents have a pool? No, they did not.

It just blows all the Archie Comics credibility.