Some apartment across the street from me right in line of my sight if I look up from typing still has its fucking Christmas lights on and when I say still on I mean like 24/7. I don’t know if it has been like this for the whole time I’ve lived here but I am noticing that it is almost March and from last seasons festivities they are still on. TURN THEM OFF AND TAKE THEM DOWN. THIS irritates me in general.

Some people make a big deal about sexy leather knee high boots*, some fashion pundits will say, no knee high boots after May 1st and not before September 1st. So I do hope you can understand WHY I’d have issues with fucking Christmas lights in February.
Being a wearer OF sexy leather knee high boots although I don’t necessarily always follow the rule when I DON’T, I spend the length of time I’m wearing them and sometimes even moments after I take them off, worrying that everyone was staring at me because I was wearing my boots in a wrong month.

There needs to be a law put in place that stipulates the length of time people can have their lights up and there needs to be insane fines and punishments if you fuck with it. Like you aren’t even allowed within five feet of ANY Christmas light for ten plus years or some totally light sentence like that.

*just an example

*

i�ve been working really hard on this thing where i don�t ban places on account of one person. with my hot temper i tend to get a little carried away with �saying� I�M NEVER FUCKING GOING THERE AGAIN. when i actually end up banning a place, for real, it generally turns out to be a huge pain in the ass. but by then the damage has already been done and i am too stubborn to step back in the place.

a few years ago i banned The Running Room. this ban is a really fucking HUGE inconvenience for me. i do not even know if HUGE is a big enough word to describe it, i think i will use MEGA HUGE instead.

i banned my optometrist�s office/shop because there was this FUCKWIT MORON that worked there and even though i had been going there forEVER this dude had it in for me or something. the couple that owned the place were good to me but i questioned how they could have a fuckwit with his level of fuckwitness working for them.
one day i went in because my piece of shit frameless, supposed to be more convenient and totally stealth IM NOT EVEN WEARING GLASSES were bent so bad i had to walk with my head cocked to one side. fuckwit looked at my face straight on and said �those are not bent� AND he laughed at me. bastard. i tried to straighten them myself at home and broke them in two. NOT BENT MY ASS YOU FUCKWIT.

[this other dude who worked at this glasses place next to where i used to work obviously thought i was hot in my suits and shit because he fixed them FOR FREE. new everything. AWESOME. they of course broke again, because you cannot turn a shit pair of glasses into good ones. they lasted until i was forced to post this scan, at which point i gave up on ever fixing them again.]

in february 2005 when my optometrist�s office called and told me i was due for my two-year check up i was rude, not cool, and stuck to my ban. i walk by there all the time [they are located a block from my apartment] and would scowl in at the FUCKWIT so i knew he still worked there.

by this time i was far far away from the job with the suits and the nice glasses dude who fixed things for free and i had no way of knowing i�d break my frameless pair AGAIN.

already being a headache suffer to the max i knew i was doing myself a disservice not going to get them checked. if the stupid government had not taken away the covered every two-year exam i would have just gone anywhere and said fuck it to the fuckwit. resenting having to pay the �fee� to have them checked also egged on my procrastination.

recently i realized that i had not seen the fuckwit in there at all lately. i tried to go in but still could not. but then i did it {insert applause here} and it was awesome! the fuckwit was GONE. AND i found out he had gotten LOTS of complaints. LOTS. turned out the old owners had taken off to Ontario and sold the place. i booked an appointment with the new optometrist and during my exam to my utter AMAZEMENT learned that my eyes had gotten BETTER. not worse, better. i didn�t even know that shit happened. now when i put my contacts in my head doesn�t instantly start pounding ten times harder. AWESOME. i had them in the other day when we went to the Team Canada game [i still haven�t posted what will be the motherload of hockey montages] and we smoked a lot of pot and my eyes didn�t get red NOR did i get a headache any worse than the normal one i have almost 24/7.

i don�t know what the moral of this story should be and here is why:

- had i gone in february 05 for my annual two-year check-up i could have ended up in glasses even stronger because i think my old optometrist sucked or something and i also would have had to deal with the fuckwit moron.

- having waited till i was almost a full year overdue for a check-up, i was able to go back to the place i liked because it is super close, the fuckwit was gone, i got a new AWESOME optometrist, AND my eyes got better.

**

i�ll have to leave it at making progress towards not banning places on account of one person. really though, i don�t think i can do it, i don�t think i can go back into The Running Room. i swear at the place every time i even see one.

* there is a lot going on here. i�m not just �trying� to look sexy {and failing miserably} in my new glasses and PJ�s, i am actually completely STRESSED OUT. when adam snapped this beauty we were watching the World Juniors. Canada was tied with the States 2-2 NEAR the end of the third and i couldn�t handle it. [we won! thank you baby jesus] this photo also marks day 7 in the team Canada toque. and yes, when i get stressed out watching sporting events sometimes i do grab my breasts and fall off the furniture.

** wardrobe, hair, photography, abc.

damn bloody canucks game is not on tv here.

when this happens i sit on the NHL’s website and press refresh every minute or so, sometimes i even get obsessive and refresh it as often as every four seconds.

update: we lost 6-2 colorado
that leaves us at 8-2-1
when i don’t ‘see’ the games i don’t get as upset when we lose (normally there’d be some swearing).

bertuzzi at least got me a point in my pool.

i shouldn’t have let it bother me. but it hurt. and i didn’t open up the pages of my book, i held it to my chest with my sweaty hand. i stood there listening.
the week had sucked so bad i was already - well ready to explode off of my psychiatrist’s couch. my sleeve was on fire they knew i was listening.

who am i to this bitch and her pussy co-worker? shit for brains couldn’t of kept her from seeing the death wish in my eyes. i could tell the other one covered in her word vomit wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up as much as i did.

she almost reminded me of myself for a minute she just kept saying the same things over and over again, loud, louder now rambling, no inside voice.

“i just don’t want children, i see my friends with them and some of them are cute and all but just like they say, they go back with their parents (insert her chuckling here) do you want kids she asks her pussy co-worker, PCW says well no not really, but-..but the bitch cut her off. they are just so much work, you know, and who wants to dedicate all that time. but i wouldn’t rule it out.”

i was just grumpy, pissy, had a bad week, was going to make mean faces at anyone and everyone who made eye contact with me girl and was listening in on an ignorant in public conversation. until she said she wouldn’t rule out having children.

the bus pulled up. i sat down across the isle from them.

“you have to give up your whole adult life and then you retire. they suck you dry. you are always tired and they are so bloody expensive. you never get to do anything. as if i want to spend all of my hard earned money on one” on and on and on.

there wasn’t any other audible talking on the bus, all i could hear was her.

it was like i was listening in on my parents talk about me as a kid, she continued spewing her truth and it kept slapping me in the face.

i had to hold back tears. i had to hold back screaming at her. i wanted to beg her to never ever have a child. tell her i hated my parents - that in the end they had betrayed and abandoned me just so they could be right. i wanted to tell her that my mother’s sister told me that the first words out of my father’s mouth when i was born were - never again - I will never go through this again. he didn’t even give birth to me and exactly what did he go through, that he hasn’t in every way but with his fists at some point put me through? i don’t understand why i was on that bus with her. i couldn’t of ignored her had i tried.

unless they are of the athletic variety and match the sport i am participating in i will not wear shorts. until last summer it could be over 30 degrees and there i’d be in my pants. i fully agree with the women on the original british version of what not to wear: women + shorts = wrong.

i hate the heat. so much. it gives me a rash, it itches, i get sun stroke in like ten minutes and then i feel barfy. HELLO migraine. plus i sweat a lot. i hate BUTT sweat the most. yes i did ladies and gentlemen - i just said BUTT SWEAT in reference to myself. i started to get paranoid about my butt sweat penetrating my jeans, which in turn would make me sweat more. you can only imagine the trauma the summer heat causes me. THE TRAUMA.

last summer i decided that my legs couldn’t be that bad. they are rather chicken like. but one of my nike running shirts even says ‘i run therefore i am’. the shirt was obviously telling me it was ok to expose my legs because i run. never underestimate my ability to read between the lines people. i bought two skirts. they are short but when i sit down everything is covered. which almost brings me to the climax of this post. i also cut off a long jean skirt totally crooked but i wear it anyway- it is shorter in the back and barely (but does) cover the pertinent areas when i sit down. this year i added a plaid wanna be golf skirt - i say ‘wanna be’ cause it doesn’t have built in shorts. but again it is ’safe’ to sit down in.

so here’s the deal. girls and women wear skirts a fuck lot shorter than mine. some only wear their vaginas with them and i simply can not get this out of my head. yesterday while walking up the street with adam i saw a girl with a skirt so short it wouldn’t even have covered half my ass. i almost went insane ranting. whilst praying she had some form of panties on.

we have all seen the photo of paris hilton getting out of her car legs akimbo naked pussy right there for the whole world to see. (i will not post it as a reminder because i do have limits) i worry every time i see these ladies in these skirts so short i am half drooling and half grossed out - how many chairs have i sat on that your skanky, sweaty, wet vagina has graced? not to mention your butt sweat. i walk around paranoid as paranoid can be that my ass is not covered and i wonder don’t all women worry about this? and i wear FULL ASS panties with my skirts i won’t even wear a thong if i have a short skirt on. if my vagina in a thong were to touch ANY chair or surface i’d freak.

i understand WHY women would not want to wear panties with skirts. trust me i get it. i just think when you really give it some thought it is seriously disgusting. EVEN if you have full butt panties on i still think it’s gross - the skirt should at least cover your entire private area when you sit. i take good care of my vagina it is important to me and i don’t want any part of your vagina/butt sweat anywhere near MY vagina. no offense. i am sure you all have lovely vaginas but please keep them covered if you are going to sit down and you only have your vagina on under your skirt.

**please note when i say ‘full butt’ it does not mean i support granny panties.

yesterday i posted a picture of the tattoo on my back. but what you don’t know is that it was SHIZER before i had it redone by this kick ass dude chad.
chad is very heavy handed - it hurt like a mother fucker but damn what a difference! my only request was that he keep the face as close to the original as possible as the tattoo is based on a drawing by sarah mclachlan.

in other news:

last month almost all of my search strings were stupid, lame and not even worth mentioning except for this one – ‘lance armstrong fuck the french’
i happen to like the French but it still made me laugh.

this month i have some gooders. here are some of the best ones with some commentary for your reading pleasure. (from most hits to least)

[b]badass drawings[/b]: this makes me laugh - can you imagine how disappointed/pissed off people must be if they are SERIOUSLY searching for BADASS drawings and they come across my site? i got a lot of hits off this last month as well. also RIGHT after i built the category i got a hit on it and also got a comment in my tag box saying my site was lame. WHATEVER just wait till i draw chewy in honor of his running for president.

[b]apocolips[/b]: we misspelled this on purpose cause we did a ‘romantic’ scan. but i bet these jerks simply can’t spell. if you are a bad speller let me know i want to start a club and start my own dictionary. i spell words the way they sound, i spell super bad and spell check can kiss my ass. i feel very strongly that if you can tell what the word is then who fucking cares how it is ‘supposed’ to be spelled.

[b]guitar songs chompy the gator[/b]: this is my FAVORITE. it has a real john denver feel to it. AND i have a gator AND his name is chompy. this one is kind of creepy too though, like is someone looking for my gator? how do they know i taught him the git-ar?

[b]i love popping zits[/b]: so do i!!! mine, adam’s (he almost NEVER lets me and it makes me MAD) it is a sick, sick addiction.

[b]masturbate harry ron[/b]: so does this ‘person(s)’ just want to masturbate to images of harry and ron or is he hoping to come across some live action left on the cutting room floor. the books are getting pretty hard core but i’m not sure i would want to see harry and ron getting it on. i guess it depends.

[b]dos fucking cats[/b]: i strongly believe that this was misspelled and this asshole wanted DOG fucking cats. cause if not i will have to hunt this dude down and keel him for using my word without my permission. pray buddy you better pray that is a spelling mistake. and ewwww fucking gross you want to see dogs fucking cats?? get some new hobbies.

[b]germany golfers hotmails[/b]: this was obviously my clone, i love germany, and germans, i love golf and hotmail. she MUST of wanted to email all germany golfers hotmails and tell them i loved them.

[b]hnt photos the ninja[/b]: told you i’m a ninja! HA

[b]i am in love with beck[/b]: you are not alone

[b]porn trilar[/b]: this one is freaky cause it feels like someone is in my mind. i named my lion trilar - once again believing i had made up the word only to find out that trilar is a bloody porn star.

[b]running t-band injury[/b]: let me help you here and advise that it is called the I/T band (for short). mine has been fucked for years. that is what you get for running a half marathon with two taped ankles and my I/T band wrapped in it’s pretty little fucking brace. lesson learned the hard way.

[b]zombie planet movie[/b]: you could say my site sometimes represents a zombie planet movie but really i just think it is cool someone found me searching for zombies because i love zombies like i love crocs/gators. a lot.

[b]golf skirt story force[/b]: i don’t even want to know what this asshole was looking for.

[b]kevin morel[/b]: who the fuck is this guy?

Antiblogger and his dreams of grandure have started a movement on line that should prove in time to be more popular than sex.

here is my first submission.

i watched the coverage of todd stepping onto the ice at vancouver’s gm place for canada’s olympic men’s hockey team orientation camp and everyone was going wild and i cried like a baby. adam patted me on the back and comforted me. welcome back bertuzzi. you’ve been missed.

all i have to say to the haters is if gretzky and sakic are behind bert then really the haters should think about moving on.

and don’t leave me lame comments about violence in hockey and shit people who support violence are idiots and dorks. accidents happen, we can all argue both sides of that incident for hours, i say give bert his second chance.

i have had a ‘healthy’ crush on bertuzzi since his arrival from the islanders - i present you with a very special scan of an old shrine that was started during the 2001-2002 season and was up at my desk at work. some pictures are missing which makes me extremely sad but i still have the memories.

you wanna know what i really can’t stand, makes my blood boil, makes me resent life and fills me with hatred?

other than when there is other jerks mail in my mail box, i really fucking hate that i have to put clothes on to go and check it. why can’t i be naked all the time? WHY?

adam is a HUGE fan of my in apartment summer wear. it consists of underwear. not thong though, i find the older i get the less thong i wear. just underwear.

please note: i do advocate heavily against any kind of VP.

it isn’t like everyone in the immediate neighbourhood hasn’t seen me naked anyway. i have lived in this building since march 2000. i constantly wonder if the lesbian with the penthouse across the street is like, sweet the girl across the street is almost always naked. or if she is like, fuck lady give it up already and put some clothes on, you live with your boyfriend i SO don’t want you!!! either way i still won’t put any on.

i also blame my love of being naked on my unwillingness to leave the apartment. you could call me agoraphobic if you wanted to but i’m not, i’m just lazy and want to be able to check my mail in my underwear. just once i have to do it, i have to!! the only problem would be with my luck i would run into mrs. e.

imagine the horror that would bring to my life.

i have always loved getting mail. junk mail or OTHER PEOPLES mail makes me want to go on a gta style postal rampage. mrs. e. being the insane nutter that she is also LOVES coming to our door and freaking out at me cause i didn’t change my address with the post office when i moved DOWN THE HALL. if i wasn’t terrified of her this is what i would say:

“fuck bitch seriously do you have any idea how many days i am like fuck i can not wait to check the mail, ONLY to have some other fucking loser who used to live in our suites mail in my box� do you wanna know what i do?? i put it with the flyers and shit, where the REST of the building puts mail that isn’t for them. why the fuck can’t your ass grasp that there is no need to come to my door with my mail and AGAIN make me put clothes on to answer it!!!!, not to mention that you yell at me, this is me yelling at you, how do you like me now? gonna have a heart attack? gonna leave my mail alone now bitch? put it the fuck under my door if you must, how fucking hard is that? REALLY!�

being an exhibitionist is hard fucking work sometimes. no one fucking understands this. i need to start an awareness group or something.