Take our Canada Geese, Please…

June 4, 2010 | Filed Under Random Silliness | No Comments

A friend was recently commenting on how he stumbled across a hunting program while channel surfing. In sick fascination he watched… because they were hunting Canada Geese. They had all this expensive equipment and decoys and a blind set up… and he said, “I just laughed. I mean, all you really need is a bag of bread and a golf club!”

And that’s the truth of it. They are so damn prolific here, and protected, that they are a menace. They shit everywhere, fouling lawns, sidwalks, beaches and bike paths. The feces have parasites which can cause swimmer’s itch.  They nest in our parking lots.  Where there isn’t a speck of water to be seen except when it rains, and then they stand forlornly in the puddles in the middle of the asiles. The are not bright creatures.  We have not been able to teach them to use condoms or birth control to keep the population in check.  They are also viciously defensive and will attack your golf cart (or you) if they think you are too close to their young.

In one tourist-town I inhabited, the debate raged every year – should they allow the flocks to be culled?  Perhaps the birds could be cleaned and given to the food bank? But always some vegan, every-animal-loving protest group would form and make a huge stink, and the birds would stay, and breed, and shit everywhere, unmolested.

And so I say to you my gun-toting, happy hunting American Neighbors… please, when our Canada geese migrate south, take out a few of them!  Hell, take out a bunch!  Declare “Kill a Canadian Goose Day” in your town.  Many Many Canadians will be grateful. Really.

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

Only The Morrigan could find something like this…

January 2, 2010 | Filed Under Lifestyles of the Heartlessly Bitchy, Random Silliness | 1 Comment

The Morrigan sent this to me today, saying, “I have NO idea what it is, but it’s right behind Police Headquarters.”

Necessary Punishment

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

Bad bathroom design

November 18, 2009 | Filed Under Lifestyles of the Heartlessly Bitchy, Random Silliness | 1 Comment

The tenets of good design don’t just extend to the web.  Virtually everything we use every day is subject to some kind of design process.  And perhaps it is because I have seen my share of odd and unusual bathrooms this week (including one I labelled the “claustrophobia closet”), that I feel compelled to share my views on some elements of women’s bathroom design that really bug me:

1) toilet stalls that are so small you have to straddle the toilet to open or close the stall door.
2) small bathrooms that put the sink on one side of the toilet and the paper towels on the other side. This leads to people dripping water all over the toilet seat after washing their hands.
3) motion-activated hand dryers in general – WHO designed these things? Every single one I have used, I swear, has the infrared sensor for your hands at the back, by the wall, and no where NEAR pointing to the stream of air that actually blows out of the thing. The net effect is that it shuts off the moment you move your hands INTO the airstream. *argh*.
4) and while we are on the subject of infrared, bathrooms where all the infrared taps don’t work except maybe ONE, and again, where it detects your hands, is NOT where the water stream actually comes down.
5) stalls with no hook for a coat
6) stalls with broken door latches – how hard is it to fix these things, or design ones that don’t break?
7) and finally, my biggest pet bathroom peeve:  overly sensitive infrared toilet flushers that go off prematurely with the force of a hurricane if you move at all while on the john.

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

Chuckle of the day

July 3, 2009 | Filed Under Popculture, Random Silliness, The Heartless Bitch Way | No Comments

Heard during an episode of “The Listener”:
Oz: “Bein’ a guy is great. You don’t have to smell good you don’t have to pluck anything…”

Toby: “Tell me again why you don’t have a girlfriend?”

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

I want this shirt….

May 7, 2009 | Filed Under Lifestyles of the Heartlessly Bitchy, Popculture, Random Silliness, The Heartless Bitch Way | 2 Comments

And then Buffy Staked Edward. The End.

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

Safe sex discussion with the spawn

March 15, 2009 | Filed Under Parenting, Random Silliness | 1 Comment

“We have this ‘worst pickup line’ contest at work.  It gets pretty bad.”

“Ok. I’ll bite, what’s your worst?”

“Hand a girl a drink and say, Hey, how’s about you and me go halvsies on a bastard?”

“*groans*  I can just imagine you trying that on a girl in a bar. You’re likely to get slapped. On the other hand, it might be a good litmus test. If she laughs, at least it shows she has a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, but what if it works on her – not because she has a sense of humor, but because she agrees?  What kind of girl would go for a pickup line like that?”

“Probably not the kind that practices safe sex.”

“That’s why celibacy is the safest form of sex.” 

“Celibacy isn’t safe sex, it’s NO sex.  The safest form of sex is the kind you have with yourself.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen my hands? They’re filthy!  And who knows where they’ve been…”

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

Chuckle of the day

February 6, 2009 | Filed Under Random Silliness | No Comments

The Onion...

(Thanks Fabs!)

 

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

The foolish things we do for fun…

September 29, 2008 | Filed Under Lifestyles of the Heartlessly Bitchy, Random Silliness, Work | 1 Comment

Our CEO has this philosophy of encouraging people to stretch their limits – to try things they have never done before.  So when our corporate “fun day” options came up, I chose paintball over the other 4 activities offered.  Though I love laserquest, I’d never gone paintballing before because I bruise really easily, I’m just not into sharp nasty pain, and I’ve heard it really HURTS.  But my whole team was going, so I figured I’d face my fear of paintball head-on (so to speak) – and in the end  that’s where I took most of my killshots – in the facemask.

The night before, I asked the youngest spawn what I should do to prepare since both he and his older brother were avid paintballers in their teens.  He looked at me and said, “Do you have a winter vest?”
I replied “Yeah. Well, it’s kind of a fall vest…”
“And do you have a neckwarmer of some kind?”
I said, “Yep.”
“And gloves?”
“I have some old leather ones I can sacrifice.”
He looked at me gravely, “Good. Wear all that, and then pick out the baggiest set of coveralls there – because you’re gonna need them  – you bruise like a PEACH mom.”

Graphically descriptive, but very true.

I wore the vest, the neck protection, knee-high cross-country ski socks, jeans, the most padded bra I could find, my “batten-down-the-hatches” tank top from kick-boxing, and a long-sleeved jeans shirt. I took cheapo fall leather gloves, and then picked out that baggy set of coveralls.  They provide you with a mask and goggles, but in future, I’ll bring my own goggles – the ones there were scratched and terrible. I could hardly see a thing, fogging up aside.

They said I looked like the Michelin Man, and I suffered innumerable taunts, but I didn’t care. It was worth it to leave with my body relatively bruise-free.

I didn’t feel a single shot except one on my hand that didn’t break (thank god for the gloves – I can’t imagine how much it would have hurt if my hands were bare) and one that somehow came through the mask and left me with a mouthful of paint and a bit of a red mark above my lip that lasted a day.  I thank my lucky stars, considering that one guy left the field with 35 welts on his body.  One had a huge lump on the top of his head.  Except for the real hard-core paintballers, almost everyone else had multiple battle bruises.

The thing IS, it didn’t feel like the same adrenaline rush you get with LaserQuest (which I love) – my heart wasn’t pounding at the end of each game, and I wasn’t breathless.  You don’t do nearly as much running around - it’s mostly crouching, hiding and scurrying from cover to cover. But I felt kinda shaky after the 5th game and was glad it was over and lunch had arrived. 

That being said, it’s now brutally clear that the adrenaline WAS flowing and really masks a world ‘o hurt.  The next morning I was in AGONY.  I had two bruises on my thighs that spontaneously appeared, (I don’t recall being shot in the legs), and every fucking muscle in my body was screaming. I thought my shoulders were going to seize. I had to use my arms to lower myself down onto the toilet because my quads were too weak and shaky.  Going down stairs was torture.  The bf thought it was hilarious. He giggled at my every whimper, the bastard.

All I can say is, thank god I have a hot tub.

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

Random Canada Day Silliness…

July 2, 2008 | Filed Under Lifestyles of the Heartlessly Bitchy, Random Silliness | No Comments

Canada Day here is our equivalent of the US “Fourth of July”.   Living in the nation’s capital, we do it up, Bigtime.  Parties everywhere, tens of thousands of people thronging the streets, and given that the weather was FINALLY decent for a day, it seems that everyone (AND their dogs) were out enjoying the weather.  Some people hate the crowds, but a number of our friends enjoy going out, seeing the sites, and enjoying the mayhem.

Our day started with a group “breakfast”, at 12:30, at a pizza place.  I know. The irony kills me too.

(Well, in reality, the day started out with the bf making me late, but I won’t go into THAT here…)

Then we *sauntered* down to parliament hill (the bf insisted we SAUNTER rather than walk at A’s usual break-neck pace).

We arrived in time to Steve-o, our less-than-illustrious PM arriving for the festivities. *MEGAYAWN*.

So we left the crowds, (and the smell of the port-a-cans) behind and went to another popular location, “Major’s Hill Park”.  Unfortunately, it was a complete and total zoo as well, and K just wanted to sit down somewhere and not fight crowds… The bf wanted to see if they had “lumberjack” shows on again this year, so we circled the outside of the park down to the show area, and found some guys doing hip-hop/breakdancing.  Nope. no lumberjack poles.  Ah well.

The requirement for a place to sit and drink beer was voiced, insistently, and since nobody objected, we made our way to a pub on Sussex, and proceeded to stay there till around 4:30pm.  Then a few of us headed off to M&J’s for their now infamous Canada Day back yard party which includes killer margaritas and yummilicious burritos.  Of course, after LAST year’s “incident” involving desecration of a Canadian Flag, the bf has sworn off tequila AND as such, the killer margaritas.  It wasn’t until this year that I learned the margaritas are 75% alcohol.  Well THAT would explain why last year I felt like someone had hit me over the head with a brick the moment I stood up!  This year I limited myself to just 3 margueritas over course of the whole evening. 

On the way there, we wandered along the Rideau Canal towards the “drunk bridge” which would we would have to cross to get to M&Js. The “Drunk Bridge” as the bf calls it, is a footbridge put in just last year, that connects the Univeristy/Residences with the other side of the Rideau Canal – ostensibly to Elgin Street, where many of the bars are.  In other words, most people crossing from Elgin to the University side at night, are probably *staggering* across.

There are a lot of interesting people about on Canada day, and this time was no exception.  As we were walking down the canal, we saw a guy hustling past us in a red dress.   I guess I missed the first one because the bf said, “That’s the second guy I’ve seen in a dress along here. I wonder what’s going on?”  We could see another guy coming towards us in a patterned but mostly red dress, with what we THINK was a woman in a red dress beside him… Yep, something was definitely going on.  As the guy passed, I realized that it was a former roommate of mine.  I told the bf this after they’d gone by.

“Really? He looks really OLD”.

“He’s 9 years younger than me.” (the Bf is one year younger than I am so I can still claim to be banging a younger guy).

“He still looks really old.”

“He was much cuter when he was younger.”

“He didn’t seem to recognize you.”

“If he did, I suspect he wouldn’t have the courage to say two words to me anyway.  After all, I did kick his ass out.”

The bf gave me that knowing nod.  The “I’d probably not want to cross you again if I’d pissed you off once before” look.

We made it across the drunk bridge without incident, and without running into any more men in dresses.  When we got to M&J’s there were jello shots waiting patiently for takers.  *sigh*  And here I am, facing the fact that I have a 9am meeting tomorrow morning.

Though we had cheap tickets to a parking lot party back in the market, and I would REALLY have liked to see The Cliks, in the end inertia took its toll and we stayed drinking and talking to people at the party.  The food was fabulous, but I paced myself on all fronts. 

Eventually we all departed (except our delightful but exhausted hosts) for the fireworks at 10:00pm. This year I could walk there by myself, unsupported by A.

On our way back to the car I spotted a woman walking in front of us with 4″ high heels that had red satin straps wrapped/tied around her ankles.  I noted that they were very festive – very “Canada Day” in their redness, and that I rather liked them, except that I couldn’t imagine walking 3 meters in those shoes, much less 3 blocks.  T said, “Yes, but *she’s* probably a trained professional.”

To which A (my son’s gf) said, without skipping a beat, ”Yeah, and I’ll bet it involves a pole.” 

That girl is coming along just FINE under my tutelage. 

 

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post

One side of a phone call between my spawn

June 27, 2008 | Filed Under Parenting, Random Silliness | 1 Comment

[ here. talk to your brother]  (passes phone) 

What are you wearing?
You are going poop?
That’s OK, lots of people get lonely when they go poop.
I know this girl who announces she has to go poop, and then grabs her cell phone.
You know, usually, I just READ when I’m on the toilet.
Did you tell [your girlfriend] that you were on the toilet?
Oh, that’s very sweet that you’d hold your poop while talking to your girlfriend.
Since the camaraderie and friendship is so tight tree planting did you get one of your buddies to push it back up in for you?
No, I didn’t say anything I just blacked out. Did you hear something?
Did anyone at least have the decency to give you a reach around?
Oh, they were catching?
No, that’s what guys say about their girlfriends.

No. No. No. It was with a girl.  You know. Shut up. You just don’t get it do you?
No. It’s with a woman. And it’s not. Though it’s just unfair if I’m not invited.
Yes. I’ll hold the camera.
(laden with sarcasm) Gee… that does sound enticing.
Did you?
Well gee golly that sounds exciting. Really.
No, they are the friendliest kinds of natives. Ask anybody.
They don’t know how to throw tomahawks anymore, that’s a thing of the past.  Now they organize their fur trading on blackberries and shit and drive around on segways.
Gee. That’s a change. Natives selling drugs. When did that happen?

How do you poop for that long? I mean, I just hate sitting on the toilet for that long. My legs get numb.
Heh. heh. That would totally suck.
That would be so unfun.
Twice.
I’m pretty good aren’t I?
yeah.
I can hear it flushing though.
Alright, bye.
I’ll think about it.
OK. Fair enough. Will do. Alright.
Bye.
Oh Yeah. Thanks. Now.
Bronze Medal.
Piece of shit.

 

Email This Post Email This Post Email this Post Next Page »

Your Ad Here


Allposters.com

Buy fun Heartless BitchStuff and help keep HBI running!

We now Accept

Acceptance Mark