Doin’ Toad

August 8, 2009 at 3:34 am (Uncategorized)
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So what do you say to someone you love when you haven’t seen them in a year?

Well, a lot of things. “I love you,” of course, along with “I missed you,” and “I can’t believe it’s been a whole year!” Eventually, you say things like “So where do you want to eat?”, “Nap or tv?”, and “Dude, there’s no way they can send that car over the fucking mountains!” (It was a Mythbusters marathon.)

When your vacation is less about exotic destinations and more about relishing the everyday, you find yourself at Target saying things like “I guess camo just isn’t in this year, babe” and “Seriously, I hate thong sandals! Why aren’t there any normal sandals for men?!?”

Thong sandals. Josh fucking hates them.

 

One thing you definitely wouldn’t expect would be to say “Get the fuck away from me!” However, I did in fact utter those or at least similar words about two thirds of the way through our visit.

I had a good reason though:

No seriously, he's like this in real life.

No seriously, he's like this in real life.

 

I didn’t want to get warts!

Can you get warts from licking a toad? I mean, he didn’t just pretend to lick it or barely touch it with the tip of his tongue. I know right there it looks like he’s faking and only licking his thumb, but trust me, he full on licked the toad. In fact, there was enough tongue-to-toad direct contact to realize that toads aren’t just slimey, they’re dirty. He spat for about a full minute trying to get the dirt and grit off his tongue before drowning the taste with beer.

*insert American beer joke here*

Then what does he do? Tries to kiss me.

Oh hells no! I don’t want your warts, get away! I squirmed and wriggled and refused to let him kiss me, loudly proclaiming “It’s okay, my best friend is engaged to a doctor! I need to check with him first!” There was no way I was going to end up coming back and having to explain “Oh these? No, no, it’s not herpes. It’s actually far more ridiculous. My boyfriend licked a toad.”

Naturally, he thought I was hilarious and took great delight in occasionally leaning over for a smooch and seeing how close he could get before I remembered that he was covered in toady, toady gross. You’d think I wouldn’t forget, seeing that it had *just* happened. Right, did I mention I was also drinking beer? He got pretty close a couple of times. Plus, he’s my man after all – it’s not easy not kissing him!

Eventually, though, my beer ran out. And so I did what any miffed girlfriend does – I grabbed his.

Mid-swig, the smirk on his face caught my attention.

“Darlin’?” he says.

“What?” I snip back.

“Now tell me, how is that any different from kissing me?”

“….”

*smirk*

“….   ….   …..Well, fuck.”

After a raucous round of pointing and laughing, I grumbled “Oh fine, go brush your teeth.”

So…as it turns out, you can’t get warts in your mouth from licking a toad. Or maybe you can and we just didn’t. Or at least I didn’t, and Josh hasn’t mentioned anything to me about any toad-related regrets other than a mouthful of dirt. But I was seriously grossed out, and wouldn’t kiss him anymore until after he brushed his teeth. For once, his habit of brushing about seven times a day came in handy.

Still, if our kids turn out like this, I won’t be held responsible.

 313KTJ96WYL__AA280_

8 Comments

Celebrate Good Times!

July 10, 2009 at 11:37 pm (Uncategorized)
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Ok, I know you’ve all been just dying for some vacation details, so at long last, here we go! This will be one of many installments of our adventures.

It makes sense to start at the beginning, which in fact was way back in April – when we picked the general timeframe for my visit and I started the months long scrambling to get all the details sorted out. I had the paperwork to get my passport already printed off and ready for fine-comb scrutiny. It probably took about three attempts at filling in all the little boxes and squares and ‘this only applies to you if you were born at this spot before this date’ spaces before I was certain it could be brought in for government inspection without meeting instant rejection for having a signature go outside the lines. When it came time to choose which government line to brave for a morning, I chose a location far from the centre of the city. Less popular, less people, less lining up, less chance of me snapping at someone who controls where I’m allowed to travel.

It went off without a hitch, and within another few weeks I had my passport. My SUPER regimented, no glasses, no smiling, no frowning, no expression whatsoever passport. I look like a disaffected yuppie and it cost me $8. And that was just for the pictures, nevermind the little blue folded book itself.

Next came picking the dates for flights and hotels, trying to maximize our alloted vacation time between weekends and matters-of-convenience for getting myself to the necessary airports. As soon as the dates were picked, the tickets purchased and the hotel reserved, it was just a matter of waiting. Shopping, and waiting.

FINALLY June rolled around. The last two weeks crawled and dragged by until one morning I strolled into work with a bright smile on my face. I made no bones about announcing my state of mind to the world at large: “People, I am not here today. Technically I am not here tomorrow, as I will be on a plane to visit my boyfriend in warm climates for the first time in one year. But rest assured, I am not here today either. Is the coffee machine broken? My good sir, I do not care.”

The next morning my mother picked me up for the drive to Buffalo, as it was $100 cheaper to cross the border in a car instead of flying directly out of Toronto. The navigation was a bit rough. Next time I’ll get the directions myself instead of leaving it up to her to leave up to her boyfriend to leave to the last minute resulting in no more than a poorly printed map and handwritten, somewhat incorrect instructions. However, we got there. And after connecting issue-free in Detroit, I got there.

There is here

Josh’s brother Nate drove him to the airport to pick me up, and dropped us off at the hotel where Josh had checked in earlier. In we rolled with our luggage, up the elevator, down the hall, and, well I’ll leave it at that for at least a few hours 😉
We hadn’t stopped to eat dinner, so later that evening I was starving. I figured we could go to a bar or restaurant, but anything nearby was closed by ten. Even with the scooter Josh had already brought to the hotel, the closest source of food was the SuperWalmart. We decided on a late night junk food/grocery shopping spree. I’m not usually a big fan of Walmart or its inhabitants, but I figure when in Rome…(or the South…)
It's ok, Talea was at the gym...

It's ok, Talea was at the gym...

The next morning, or maybe the following morning (I may have lost track of time…), I asked Josh to take me to Ihop for breakfast. He agreed, but was disappointed to learn that it’s somewhat of a misnomer. The “international” house of pancakes is at most a “national” house unless they have them in Mexico – we sure don’t have them in Canada, or at least not that I’ve seen. I in fact did not have pancakes, which I have not been able to stomach since a rather disastrous event with plane food many moons ago. Nor did I get waffles, which I’m told would have been an acceptable substitute. I got a strawberry crepe, which was damn good. I also had a lovely eyeful of Ihop patronage, and the new knowledge that some folk do in fact eat fried chicken for breakfast and encourage their kids to do the same.
yeah...

yeah...

Our breakfast was followed by much in the way of napping (sort of), to fill the hour or so one is supposed to wait before post-eating aquatic adventures. Yes, the hotel had a pool. But between the hot sun and the small family taking up most of the water, we opted to stay indoors. The pool was small, and it wasn’t so much about there being a crowd as there being just one family – we weren’t really in the mood for inevitable tourist small talk. Luckily, there were recreational activities to be found inside as well. 

This photo took approximately 37 takes.

Word, they had a jacuzzi!

We also went out to dinner at the Outback (which I think we do have in Canada, but I haven’t been in a while), and clothes shopping at Target. It may seem mundane to spend a vacation going to Walmart and Target, but we never get to do these little every day things together. Getting to spend an hour trying on shorts and lamenting the lack of non-thong sandals for men is a rare opportunity!

Alas, the weekend could not last forever, and we only stayed at the hotel for a few days. So after 60 some odd hours of our shagedelic fest of sugar, saunas and shopping, we packed up our bags and waited for our ride to Nate and Sami’s house to stay with them for the rest of our vacation. The first thing we did all together was head on over to their parents house for a family dinner with what I like to refer to as my ‘almost in-laws’. They love to take pictures at any and all opportunity, flattering or not…

Thought bubble says "Hey what are you - "

Thought bubble says "Hey what are you - "

Photobombed, and still adorable

Photobombed, and still adorable

And of course, we took plenty of pictures ourselves.

Totally worth the wait!

Totally worth the wait!

That’s all for this first installment, the adventures continue soon! Coming up next, we’ve got killer dogs, date night, strippers, licking (not to be confused with stripper licking), and other fun.

Stay tuned!

18 Comments

A Triumphant Return

June 24, 2009 at 1:01 am (Uncategorized)
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Word up my internet peeps!

You will rarely catch me in as good a mood as I am right now, so soak it all in while you can. I am back from my vacation, refreshed, relaxed, loved up, and ready to tackle the rest of the year until Josh and I can be together full time. Last year’s vacation had too many chunks of time cut away by his work schedule, and the travelling part of it was horrendous. He also had a court date the day after my return, and none of the legal shit had been sorted out yet – our future, while undoubtedly involving each other, was filled with uncertainty, obstacles, and plans kept in limbo by forces beyond our control. It was all a little scary, and next to impossible to will myself back on the bus to go home.

This year was different. With no more court to take up sick days, he had the full week off to spend time with me. Ten solid days of loving, sleeping, eating, singing, visiting, shopping, laughing, cooking, kissing, dancing, drinking, wii-ing, and just generally being. A proper vacation. Even when it came time to leave, I was still feeling great.

The next steps to getting together are slowly forming a solid groundwork – talking to lawyers, looking at colleges, setting loose dates and vague to-do lists. Nothing is set in stone yet, of course. But on the way back to the airport, I was feeling alright. Instead of last years dread, anxiety, and futile resentment towards space, time, and other human beings, this year I was nothing short of psyched. Instead of thoughts of “How long until we see each other again?” and “What’s going to happen next?” it was more like “Ok, I’m going to go get things ready up in Canada with the paperwork and the research and the phone calls, and I’ll see you soon! Like for reals this time! Holy crap, woot!”

So yes, I would say it was a good vacation. And with ten days of “What do you want to do today Napolean?” (although I never got around to actually saying that, but now I really wish I had), there was much in the way of fun and adventure. You’ll be regaled with tales for weeks to come, and pictures of course. But for now, while my fridge is still empty and my bags still unpacked, here are some brief highlights:

– Late night grocery shopping at Walmart!

– Confederate flag bikinis and hot tubs!

– We went on the radio! Details and clips coming soon!

– Great adventures in American dining establishments and their patrons!

– Saw the Hangover! Go see it! Now!

– 2 a.m. weight lifting contest (Josh totally won!)

– Strippers!

– Copious amounts of junk food!

– Vikings and dragons from space!

– Licking inappropriate objects! Surprise, it’s not the strippers!

 All that and more, but right now I’m starving because I spent last night getting piss drunk with Talea and didn’t get groceries. It was totally worth it.

16 Comments

Tick…Tick…Tick…

June 6, 2009 at 6:16 pm (Uncategorized)
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It’s starting to hit me. Our vacation is almost here.

Don’t get me wrong, June is still sucking so far. The morons are worming their way out of the woodwork faster than I can squish them appropriately and diplomatically deal with them. At the office, on the train, out on the street. Tourist season is upon us and nobody will get the hell out of my way. I still want to knock a few people down. But it just dawned on me last night that in less than one week I’ll be on my way to the airport.

Holy crap.

I have so much to do! I’ve been so busy just trying to keep my head on straight and not walk in front of an oncoming bus that I haven’t actually sat down and, oh, for example – packed. I have bags of new clothes littered about the place, a new suitcase full of paper stuffing and packing tape from whence it came at the mall, and thats pretty much it. New bra? Still at the store, waiting to be tried on thirteen million ways. New tiles to put down so my landlords don’t have to venture into my bedroom? Still mostly in the box. I did manage to rearrange the apartment to my greater liking, but now I’ve got more crap to throw out, and yet more tiles to put down where furniture used to be. Also, I still have to get the um…waxing…done.

OH DEAR GOD ALMIGHTY, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THEY DO TO YOU???

Yeah, I’m a little bit scared about that part, but I’ll suck it up.

I also have to go get travel insurance. I’m going to the states, after all. I don’t want to have to pay for a broken arm with a leg. (And of course, if you don’t get insurance, you’ll get hit by a bus, because thats how it works.) It’s not expensive, and only takes five minutes of your time at the bank, but really? When the hell did I start having to worry about insurance?

So I’m spinning around in circles right now just trying to remember everything I have to remember. I couldn’t find a decent clip or even pic on the internet, but does anyone remember that episode of the Simpsons where there’s a fire drill at the power plant? And one guy in the background just kind of panics, running in a circle going “fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire…”? I kind of feel like that – trying so hard to keep track of everything I have to do that I’m not actually getting anything done. I haven’t even dyed my hair! Honestly, this skunk stripe is getting ridiculous.

And as for Josh? I haven’t seen him for more than a half hour here and there late at night for about a week now. We’ll be staying at his brother and sister-in-law’s place (who I like to call my almost-in-laws, have I mentioned how awesome these kids are? I heart them) and they’re converting the car-port into a spare room. Red tape abounded for so long that they only recently got the go ahead to start building, and so they’re busting ass just about round the clock to get it done. The time apart iss rough on Josh and I, being so used to spending most of almost every evening together, but it’ll be worth it once I get down there. Poor Josh is seriously going to need this vacation after all that work!

At least he has time off from his job this year. He had to work through the week during our last vacation, so it’ll be more than awesome to actually get to spend so much time together. And unfathomably, after how long it took to get here, it’s now just days away. I’ll just have to not bite my nails down to nothing in the meantime while watching the clock!

Hurry up or I'll get the hammer!

Hurry up or I'll get the hammer!

Almost there….almost there…

12 Comments

Brought to You By the Letters E and K

May 30, 2009 at 7:13 pm (Uncategorized)
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So I was over at 2LD a long ass time ago, but sometimes I’m lazy and most times Josh is very busy the other day. She had a meme going on with letters, and I thought “Well. I’m just going to have to get in on that.” It involves having a letter picked out for you, and then fulfilling the task of listing about 10 items you love that start with that letter. Foregoing the general instruction of asking her for a randomly assigned letter, I pretty much planted my flag in the letter E and asked her to instead assign one to Josh. It’s mad fun times when Josh and I co-write, but he’s usually so busy with work, legal matters, and other things necessary to get our asses together. So when I’m craving some blog-world man-attention, I find memes are a good fun way to have some kicks without actually having to, you  know, think of our own ideas 😛

She assigned him a K, which I feel is nicely paired with the E so clearly designed for yours truly. Let’s see what the results are!

Emerald says: Firstly, how much do I love that both of our letters could also be in reference to drug usage?

Josh says:
Hey now, don’t give away any hints as to what I’m putting on my list dammit!

Ha, okay, I’ll be quiet. Although I wouldn’t think anything like that would be surprising coming from you.

So uh, you want to start off this list of awesome crap starting with E and K or should I?

You can go first.

K is for Ketamine, which get’s cats high, and sometimes people in the suburbs too.


Haha, suburbs. Your suburbs are nothing like ours. Our suburbs suck. You have to drive around looking for kids hanging out near parks instead of just going up the street like sensible adults. In that theme, I will say Ecstasy. The drug itself can be either awesome or rat poison, depending on the mood of whoever cooked it up in their bathtub. Or I could get all emo and romantic, but who would I be kidding?



K is for Knights, because they wear armor and chop people apart for a living. Not to mention the fact that they kill dragons, which are universally accepted as the most badass monsters ever to walk the face of the planet, and as a reward they bang damsels all over the countryside. Knights rule.

 

There are also many modern day knights who are pretty cool. Anthony Hopkins is a knight. E is for Emerald, cause firstly I rule, knighted or not. And they make pretty good jewels too, I guess.

He’s not shit compared to Lemmy from Motorhead, he should really be a knight. Or Jason Statham. So uh, what else starts with a K?  This is going to be hard, I suppose we should have put some thought into our lists instead of winging it like we always do.

 K is for Killers, who kill people to death. Because without killers there would be no horror movies, and without horror movies where would I get my gratuitous gore and nudity?



That is a very good and also philosophical point. How would we recognize or enjoy what is good, or even know what it really is if there were no bad with which to contrast it? We need crazies and psychopaths. Just, you know, on someone else’s block.

E = mc2, because I don’t have a ‘squared’ button, and also knowledge is cool. I’m also more of a fan of the scientific mathematical explanation of things. At least in terms of the universe and energy, and all that jazz.



What? That wasn’t my point at all, I was giving a big old salute to all those badass killers out there, mainly so I wouldn’t plagiarise Maddox from his alphabet of manliness when he said K was for kicking ass. (damn you maddox!)

Oh. Reference fail.

It wasn’t a reference, but I wasn’t what was good by pointing out the bad or whatever you said, i was actually hailing the bad.

*Josh and Em both take a moment to agree that Josh totally failed on that last sentence, and then continue onwards*

You should read my A – Z encyclopedia of serial killers.

Alrighty, K is for Krusty, cause I know how much you would felate the Simpsons if they were real.



Dude, you have no idea how much I was already thinking that. In fact, I’m going to go ahead and say E is for “Exxxxcellent” in all it’s many forms.

Right on, Well K is for Karate and Kung-Fu, the holy mediums which introduced the western world to martial arts through cheesy ass movies like the Flying Guillotine.

I love that we’re going to watch Kung-Fu movies in bed.

And act out Kung Fu movies in bed, did I mention that?

You did. My general priciple is “don’t leave any marks I can’t cover up or explain easily the next day.”

None of our moans wil synch up with out mouths.

Haha, that too! E is for encyclopedia, because I’m a nerd who will read through an encyclopedia or dictionary for kicks. Also because my encyclopedia, as mentioned, is exclusively about crime and serial killers.



That helps I’m sure. K is for Kalashnikov’s automatic rifle model of year 1947, AKA the AK-47. Thanks to Hollywood this is globally known as the single coolest rifle ever made, and thanks to human violence, the single most popular rifle on the planet (I think). It resists wear and tear, fires in almost any conditions, and is simple enough for a seven year old child to be taught how to dismantle, clean, reassemble, and fire it.

Well shit, I was going to say elephants, but that just won’t cut it after that. Let me get my damn dictionary. Encyclopedia, whatever…

Shit, there are only two entries for “E” in this thing, and I can’t say I’m a huge fan of ‘execution’. I’m going to have to go with ‘Entertainment”. I would go crazy if I didn’t have something constantly distracting me from the chatter in my head. Thanks, television!

Alright, K is for the KKK, the most hilarious hate group between the Third Reich and Al Quaeda.

I would call them the most poorly dressed, but whatever. Seriously, did someone actually look in the mirror and think “Sheets, yeah, that’ll be our thing!” That’s like trying to start a hardcore violent gang and thinking “Fuschia, yes!!!”

E is for eating, I’m a pretty big fan of that.



White is such a bad color choice for night stealth, and not to mention how dirty you must get the robes during lynchings. And who voted on the dunce hat? WTF?

I know!!! The hat, why??? Ugh. Anyways, your turn.

Ok, K is for Krokus who coverd one of the koolest sogs of all time, Ballroom Blitz.

Oh no way, I love Ballroom Blitz! The first time I heard it was in Wayne’s World, when Crucial Taunt sang it.

*five minute interlude for music appreciation time*

Hell yeah! \m/> <\m/

That was pretty good, though my favourite will always be Tia Carrere.

Of course, how could she not be. I’m stretching for K’s here shug.

Yeah, I’m still stuck on elephants. How far along are we? Count for me honey, I’ve had several glasses of wine.

I have done eight, you have done seven.

I’m going to go with Electricity. I’d be pretty fucked without it. Of course, once you get here we could live in a shack in the woods with a well for all I care. But for right now, I’m pretty fucked when I knock my power out. Unless whoever that person is nearby who is stupid enough to have an unsecured network open happens to be online.

Eight now.

Ok, so two more. Ooh, eccentricity! I has it!

I want everything in this picture. Consider it a 10 year goal.

I want everything in this picture. Consider it a 10 year goal.

Ok, let me go with Katherine Heigl, because I totally had a TV crush on her back when she was the stuck up bitch on Roswell, waaaaaay before Knocked up or Scrubs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don’t think she was on Scrubs…

 

 

 

 

 

 

*It is eventually determined that these are from another, less hilarious medically-themed show. Probably ER.*

Ha, I told you she wasn’t on scrubs. Are you thinking of the other blonde chick on scrubs? Elliot?

Negative, I was thinking of Heather Graham.

Cause Eliot’s cute but not super hot. But whatever, and either way that’s an E. But I don’t like her enough to use that as my last E choice. And I’m going to have to say a full negative to Heather Graham. She’s terrible in everything she’s ever done, ever, and at least Katherine Heigl has some boobage.

So a threesome with Heather Graham is out then?

Unless a threesome involves me punching her in the face. Why can’t we have Katherine Heigl?

Sold! To the lady with the big knockers!

Sweet, that’s totally me.

Thinking of ten K words that are cool is really hard. I’m going over all the things in my head now. Kalvin and Hobbes, Katterpillar heavy machinery, spaniKopida, everything I can think of starts with a damn C. Wait, no genius struck me at the last second. K stands for Klingons eating Klondike bars, because I fucking dare you to think of something cooler that starts with a K, especially after drinking rum.

 klingon klondike

That is a pretty cool visual. And as I’m headed for the last of a bottle of wine, I’m going to go ahead and cop out with “Existence.” It’s pretty bad-ass right now.



True dat, much better than that whole non-existence phase you went through. I found it to be much adieu about nothing, hmmm, jes?

Well I could also say “Existentialism” but let’s face it, they’re annoying. And right now, the extent of my existence is sitting on a couch in my underwear finishing off a bottle of wine while my hot boyfriend who’s willing to switch countries to be with me stares at my boobs. I’m thinking that’s a-ok my friend.

Me too, we’re going to have a lot of fun existing.

Alright, well what say we sign off this here blog and get to some long-distance practicing?

*wiggles eyebrows seducitvely*

Ok that sounds good to me, This blog was brought to you by the letters E and K. Have a good evening ladies and gentlemen.

Peace out!

 

7 Comments

Christmastime, & The Livin’s Easy

January 13, 2009 at 2:46 am (Uncategorized)
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Hey there my jolly little ho ho ho’s, this is Josh, the lesser seen coauthor of 800 Miles. I’m here to do a little collaborative XXX-mas recap with uh, stories, and … pictures I guess. Lot’s of recappery and what have you. And if you have a problem with a Christmas post in the middle of January, kiss my pearly white ass, we have stuff going on, and real lives tend to interfere with bloggin.

Let me briefly tell my Christmas experience, and then we’ll ask Emerald how it went down with her. I spent Christmas eve with my family, and my grandparents came over. We did all our gift exchanging then, cause Christmas day is always so hectic. (Hectic means they now have accepted that I like to get drunk with my brother and hate family functions.) I got money mostly, and some weird knick knacks, none worth mentioning really. After that we watched Prince Caspian, which is a really cool movie for my family cause my mom used to read the Chronicles of Narnia to us over and over when we were just little kids. It was done pretty well, not awesome, but pretty good. I can’t wait for the Voyage of the Dawntreader.

Then me and my brother and sister in law all headed over to Nate and Sami’s house and got drunked up. LP was house sitting for one of his friends, so he borrowed his Xbox 360 and brought it over. I got him Gears of War and Fallout 3, but he hadn’t gotten his game console yet, it was coming in a week or so. Then we pretty much just sat around and drank beer and tequila sunrises blowing up mutant alien things for a few days. It was a pretty awesome Christmas. Also, Nate introduced me to a game called Combat Arms. It’s a multiplayer online FPS with modern warfare, and it’s free, as in, you don’t have to pay ANY money at all to download or play it, so that pretty much rocks. If I had made a new years resolution to become a gaming junkie and spend waaaaaaay too much time doing geeky shit like playing on the same team as my brother and kicking n00b ass, then I would be doing very well for the year indeed.

(Emerald will henceforth be in italics.)

I spent Christmas eve at May’s house. I figure this is going to be my last Christmas in Canada for a bit, and it seems kind of pointless if there aren’t kids around to be excited by Santa. So Talea and I went there and hung out with the kids and exchanged gifts. Talea got a fun set of wrist warmers from May, and I got a knitted pair of socks although May hadn’t finished them  yet. I got them this weekend. Talea knitted May and apron that she also just finished, and it’s super cute. We got the kids some cool stuff too, though the funnest part for me were these customized Santa videos I did up for the kids. You just go to this link and type in the names, age, blah blah blah and it creates a video of Santa talking to you. It was fun times. Christmas morning I woke up by myself and enjoyed a quiet morning with a nice view and an awesome breakfast. I made eggs on English muffins with hollondaise sauce, and I forgot the orange juice part of my mimosa idea, so I just drank a bottle of champagne.

Christmas Breakfast - Giggity

Christmas Breakfast - Giggity

View from the back window - South!

View from the back window - South!

Well that’s really the important part anyway.

Ha, totally. I was very okay with it.

Why do you think Santa was so jolly, and Rudolph’s nose was so red?

Because Mrs Clause bitches a lot?   Anyways, I didn’t see my actual family until boxing day. Thats because every year we all rush out to the suburbs for this big noisy affair that I’m tired of pretending to care about. Apparently it was very nice this year because my grandparents have moved to Quebec. My grandmother is totally awesome and everything, but, well….she has her charms.

Heh, lucky charms?

Well, did I ever tell you about the time my grandfather broke his arm?

No. The word charms just makes me think of three lesbian hottie witches eating cereal off of each other.

Right. Well, he was a maitre d’ at the Royal York here in Toronto for almost 50 years. One day years and years ago, he was training a new guy who I guess didn’t like his style or whatever. They got in a fight and my grandfather ended up with a broken arm. Which is a big deal because back then it meant he couldn’t work, and a righteous pain in the ass for my grandmother with a bunch of kids to feed.

Don’t you guys have like, free mansions for people who break their arms and stuff? Isn’t that how Canada works?

Not back then. So not that it accomplishes much, but every night until he could go back to work, she would go down to the hotel and wait for the guy that broke her husbands arm. And every night, before letting him pass out the door to leave, she would get right up in his grill and say “If you touch my husband again I’m going to kill you dead, you sonofabitch.” Every night, for weeks she would tell him every night she was going to kill him until the kid finally quit. Ha, I love my grandma, but anyways, she can be feisty and well, noisy. But I did call her on Christmas and I sent her some picture frames that she really liked. Anyways, I got mostly money from my dad and stepmom, and her parents were over for a visit as well. Then my mom picked me up and we went to her mothers for dinner. She has a nice house backing onto a sweet park. Mom got me mostly yoga related stuff.

Backyard

Backyard

Wishin’, and hopin’, and thinkin’, and prayin’.

Um, what?

Sorry, it just came on Pandora Radio.

Haha, loser. That’s okay, I listen to Journey.

You’re the loser, I’m totally rockin out to Dusty Springfield, beyotch. Journey is good though, better than those Rush assholes.

Whatever, it’s not my fault that lame ass DJ down there keeps overplaying them in awe of their genius or whatevs. Anyways, that’s pretty much what I did for Christmas, and I’ve been sick most of the time since then.

Sure, we’ll go with that. So anything else for your Christmas story?

Well of course there’s our Christmas. 😉 Even though we did celebrate it about a week late.

Right right, and I think we should tell the people about that right now, how about in the order they were opened?

Ooh, good idea. Who went first? I think you did.

Um, well you got some yarn from my mom right? And then my folks got some candles or something from you. (My folks opened the box for ME while I was in jail without my permission, so technically they opened their presents first and should come first on this list)

Oh right, the yarn! That’s awesome. Your mom sent me a box of yarn for Christmas, with two skeins of each type, which is perfect for most of my projects. And I sent your parents candles and a lavender scent satchel thingie from an organic store called Pistachio.

And convenient, because I can never remember the word skein, but I can remember the word stien, so I just say that and you know what I mean.

Whatever works for you. I don’t expect you to care about my knitting projects. 😉

I totally do care, but in a man way. I try and show interest, anyway, I think I opened the Guk sauce first then. The Guk sauce is some kind of Canadian concoction, a real arctic witches brew for burgers and what not. it tastes pretty good, kind of like thousand island dressing, but more tangy and with something else I couldn’t quite place. The thing that really got me, the label is hilarious. First the company name is Licks, the most sexual company name since Dick’s. Also, it says “Canadian Eh” down at the bottom. And It also makes a big deal out of having no trans fatty acids, when it’s basically glorified mayo, the most unhealthy of all sauces.

Mmmmm...guk

Mmmmm...guk

Haha you have Dick’s we have Licks. (Put em together, hey-oh!) Oh yeah, we’re on a super health kick in Canada.

I think the first thing I opened from you was the bikini and the t-shirt. We’ll have to cut and sexify the shirt though, cause you can’t wear something that says ‘Honky Tonk Badonkadonk without having it show off your boobage.

I think Josh wants me to dress like this...

I think Josh wants me to dress like this...

Yeah, absolutely, I love the cleavage. But unfortunately at Mule Day’s they only have one size, and that’s fat.

Haha, yeah. See, if you avoid those trans fatty acids… The bikini is awesome, but that will be for indoors only. 😉

Ummmmm....

Ummmmm....

I still don’t get that. I think you look banging in the bikini. I mean bikini’s are supposed to be revealing and sexy right?

Yeah, but generally speaking only very fit people wear them outdoors. It’s this modesty thing that I frankly wish more girls had. I don’t want to see jigglage, and I’m sure nobody but you wants to see mine.

You might be surprised, and I for one am proud to show off my fine ass woman’s body, but whatever makes you feel comfortable. You can wear a one piece or whatever. As long as I get to see you in the rebel flag two piece. (Thrusts pelvis and makes obscene facial gestures.)

I do not wear bathing suits generally speaking, mostly cause I don’t go swimming generally speaking. It’s rather pointless when you’re half blind. But I will wear the top around the house in jeans and you can take advantage of whatever situation you wish. 😉

Next you can see I opened my two new shirts. These are SO me, it’s unbelievable. They are fairly self explanatory, but for anyone who doesn’t know, I would say 99% of my wardrobe consists of t-shirts with some kind of comedy printed on the front. What can I say, rednecks like shirts you can laugh at.

That's MY Captain Awesome!

That's MY Captain Awesome!

 

heheheh...

heheheh...

I think cool people like shirts you can laugh at, they’re definitely part of the trendy scene hipster life up here. Are you listening to Bon Jovi?

I am NOT a hipster, for the record. And yes I am listening to Bon Jovi.

I know, hence the Bon Jovi. 😛 I’m only teasing, I bought a copy of Slippery When Wet back in the day.

Emerald, I’ve been shot through the heart,and you’re too late. Darlin, you give love, a boner! Mwahahahahahahaha!

I thought it was “and you’re to blame,” but I won’t admit to reading lyrics, so I won’t argue.

You give love a bad name, except you don’t really, so it’s a boner now.

No, I meant “and you’re too late” should be “and you’re to blame” (Em was right)

Okay, so the next thing I opened took me another week at actually open because it was a frigging alligator head.

seriously, wtf?

seriously, wtf?

Yeah, that alligator head cracked me up. Nothing says I love you like sending a decapitated animal head to your vegetarian girlfriend. I laughed so hard.

I bet you did. Jerk. It was funny though. I’ve got it on my bookshelf now. It’s name is Larry.

Larry huh? Like the pickle?

I don’t know of a pickle named Larry, but I figure it goes well with Snippy the Squirrel and Wally the Garden Gnome. Larry the Decapitated Alligator.


Next up I opened the first season of the Office, which is not going to do anything but drastically increase my “that’s what she said” usage. I am sure I will thoroughly enjoy it, because I really like the characters, and Pam’s face/sexyness. Speaking of which, I wonder if there’s any rule 34 for Pam from the office. I’m hesitant to look it up for fear of finding some rule 34 for Dwight instead.

That's what she said

That's what she said

I would be incredibly surprised if there wasn’t one for each of them.

Turns out there are sexy pics of Jenna Fischer. Here, here, and here, and a lookalike here, but no full fledged fake Jenna Fischer porn to be found with a brief search. I will look harder next time.  4chan needs a search option.

Next I opened up the locket you got me, which I love to death.

Awwwwwww

Awwwwwww

Yeah, and I found it really adorable, but also funny as hell because your reaction was just so intrinsically female. I knew it would strike that feminine romance and emotion chord with you, but I never in a million years would have considered that it could be an heirloom, and you were all over that right away.

Well duh, that’s what us girls do. I can be extra girly at times. Besides, everyone around me is getting married and having kids, so I’m a little more extra girly than usual. And that’s like prime heirloom material, the first piece of jewelry you got me, for our first Christmas together. I think it’s sweet.

I thought it was sweet too, in fact I was counting on it. People think guys just pick gifts haphazardly, but we really do put thought into your reactions to them. That would have been guaranteed poon had we been celebrating together.

I’m sure our readers are thankful for that mental picture.

I’m sure they are, Merry Christmas everyone!

Next I got a bad ass razor thingy. It’s got like, twelve billion blades, and one on the side for detail trim work, and a hair trimmer on the end, and it pretty much rocks my balls off. I had been shaving with this archaic Mach3 Turbo, (stupid three blades is stupid) that I had run out of blades for three months ago, and so it was pretty much just scraping the hair off, and when I went to shave with the new one, well let’s just say it didn’t feel like I shaved anything, but my face totally felt like a really really, extra soft babies ass, made of chiseled iron of course.

I’m glad you like it. Next from you I got an iHome. It’s so awesome, I brought it to work so I can have Jazz Day at my desk.

Super Bad Ass

Yeah, I thought it was really bad ass, and it’s the kind of gift I would get myself, so I know it totally rocks. Plus I imagine that it’s really really loud, but I didn’t try it out because at that point I did not have an iPod. I guess your work is a little different than mine though. We play System of a Down and David Allen Co. at top volume, you have quiet jazz day so as not to bother your clients or coworkers.

Yeah, I already pissed my boss off once playing opera too loudly while he was on the phone. I didn’t realize at first that when you turn it on it starts quietly and turns up gradually. So I had cranked the volume and then left my desk. Ooops. That’s what happens when I don’t read manuals. Speaking of work, I got a lot of rad stuff from clients too. Especially chocolate, I’m going to do a post just on chocolate. I would say most of my holidays were spent knitting and eating chocolate.

My desk! I'm busy and important!

My desk! I'm busy and important!

 

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, Willis.

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, Willis.

Fuck him, next Christmas we can get him a sense of humor. We purposely do loud and sexual things when my boss answers the phone.

My boss has a plenty good sense of humour. His bosses, not so much

Yeah same here, they got mad at us for bringing a playstation to work. We didn’t get rid of it or anything, but they weren’t happy.

And last of all, I opened the gift that Jesus sent to me. An iPod shuffle. Did you know those things are smaller than a matchbox? For reals for reals! My last MP3 player was cool and all, but it was kind of huge, imagine something between a tricorder and an eighties cell phone. This one is sleek and sexy, and it even makes my dick look big. I’m totally going to be iPod shuffling all over the place. Congratulations Apple, you finally impressed me with one of your devices.

w00t! iPod!

w00t! iPod!

Haha, I was totally worried you’d find baby blue unmanly.

No way man, techno gadgets are totally manly, and Blue is a guy color. Besides it’s so small I can just hide it in my chub rub or something, and nobody will ever see it.

Um….chub rub?

You know, when your dunlop rubs against the front of your pants and causes chaffing, cause you’re too fat and your pants are too tight?

Dunlop? oh god, these terms! we don’t have these fat terms up here!

You know, when your belly dun lopped over your pecker.

Haha, okay, so then what’s the chub rub part? And you don’t have a dunlop by the way.

It’s when the chubby part of your belly, the chub, rubs against the top of your jeans creating chub rub.

I see. Well you might have slight chub, but I would not say a full out dunlop.

Anyway, the point is that the iPod is really really small and can be hidden anywhere. (One more pointless joke choked to death by a literal interpretation.)

Sorry, I do that a lot. Eventually I will get all these jokes when my brain stops doing that thing it does with words. 😛 I like that we both got each other something iPod related.

I know right, I heard that four out of the top ten gifts this year were made by Apple. That brings me up to a grand total of one Apple device, all the rest can kiss my shiny metal ass. Especially Macs. Macs are only good with cheese.

I’m so getting a Mac next computer. Vista can bite me. 

Fuck that shit, Vista is for people who aren’t assholes. Mac’s are lame as hell and if you have troubles on it, you have to figure them out on your own because trying to use them makes me want to skewer people alive, with a Mac.

On that note, Merry Christmas baby!  ❤

Merry Christmas darlin. ❤

Christmas Kiss

Christmas Kiss

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