Consider this a Prop 8 pictorial for idiots. Stupid people tend to like visuals.

It is November fucking 27th and 5 houses on my block have had their Christmas lights up for the last three god damn weeks!

wtf?

Can’t we pass some sort of legislation (punishable by a combo of fire ants and honey or whatever it is that those little fuckers like) that CLEARLY states at date that is appropriate to hang that shit? Early last week–making it mid November for those of you counting–a house a block over from me put out a giant glowing inflatable Rudolph and as the breeze hits said creepy eyesore, Rudolph’s “skin” ripples like a fat kid on a trampoline. Why is it that you crazy Colin & Justin’s home heist watching freaks feel it necessary to deck the fucking halls 2 months early? Seriously! WHY? Is it time to reevaluate your mediation perhaps or have you just never shaken that childhood desire to be frolicking in the North Pole with visions of sugar plums dancing in your head? Yes….we all secretly want to walk around holding hands and singing “Wah hoo wha hoo, la hoo la.”

You people are DIRECTLY responsible for the fact that by the time Christmas finally does roll around I’m ready to kick the shit out of anyone dressed as an elf and I twitch during the 87th celebrity version of Silent fucking Night on the radio. By December 15th I’m looking to roundhouse kick Santa and all of his sleigh toting slaves. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Christmas. I usually spend it making stew and and then driving around handing it out to people I find in the alleys. This year I’m shaking it up a bit & Steve and I will help serve dinner at the mission on Christmas eve. I also ALWAYS put money in the Salvation Army kettles that you see outside of malls & (not surprisingly) liquor stores. This one is a definite no matter how broke I am because growing up, more than a few of our Christmas’ were thanks to them and never once did they make my mother or us three kids feel poor. They acted as though they were thankful that we could be there, like it wouldn’t have been a Christmas party without us. That is something that I will never forget.

Having shared that warm and fuzzy kumbaya singing moment, I STILL HATE YOU FUCKERS THAT DECORATE YOUR YARDS/HOMES MONTHS BEFORE THE ACTUAL EVENT! Your obnoxious exuberance for the season makes the 25th rather anticlimactic for all of us normal non-spawn of Martha Stewart folks. It is totally unnecessary and completely ridiculous.

Needless to say, those of you who leave them up all fucking year long are in a whole other class of jackass that I simply do not have the energy to rant about today.

These two stories were both considered “front page news” at the online Globe & Mail. Both involve Canadians in harms way (though one by team alone). Story one, story two.

Both were given equal importance. It makes me sad for us all.

In some instances, I am naive. I know this to be true and perhaps this is one of those times. It seems as though it would be so fucking easy for China to embrace–or at least accept– the Dalai Lama’s “middle way” approach and grant autonomy to Tibet. In all of these years of exile, the movement has been asking for that which they already had prior to the Chinese invasion in 1949. They weren’t asking for independence and there is a huge difference between the two. (more…)

Deaaaad Fingggggah!

I have a little thing called Raynaud’s Disease. Actually, that’s what I assume it is as I am a firm believer in sketchy online self diagnosis by less then reputable sources. But really, there isn’t anything else under the sun that it could be and as it’s been going on regularly for 6 or so years and I’m not dead yet, I feel pretty comfortable with my diagnosis.

It’s actually kinda fun. I call it “dead finger” (but when you say it, it has to be in a deep singsong voice to the tune of the 007 “Gold finger” theme. It’s just more fun this way) Each finger can have a colour independent of the other four ranging from corpse white to heart attack purple with every conceivable shade of pink/red/blue in between. I have been known to have rather colourful hands at times. It would be a stretch to call it painful, though it is definitely not comfortable. It’s fun for me to randomly touch people in my office with my multi coloured sub zero fingers as though it’s a horrid and contagious condition. Of course they all now know that it isn’t, but there is still a flash of repulsion/fear in their eyes that warms my evil little soul. I can’t seem to stop myself. Their obvious discomfort makes me smile because that’s the kind of girl I am.

Don’t blame me though, it’s the Raynaud’s. It diverts vital blood from my heart and therefore clearly not within my control. (The touching/creeping people out is, but whatever. Everyone needs a hobby.)

After more than a dozen years in the making I think most people just sort of figured that Axle was too busy re-braiding his hair to finish Chinese Democracy. I must say that I’m surprised as hell that it’s actually been released. It feels like getting an anniversary present from your husband 14 years after you divorced him.

Yes, out of curiosity, I will have a little listen, but I fear that my GnR days faded with Rocket Queen. Here comes the free Dr Pepper!

I am a considerate girlfriend and frequently dress in the dark to avoid the harsh light of 6am waking up the sleeping bf. It has recently come to my attention (very recently, within the last 5 minutes, in fact) that my underwear are inside out. This happens far more frequently than I would like to admit.