Friday, August 31, 2012


Matt and Nat bags are the greatest vegan, Canadian bags on the market.

Some things I said this week

1) "Dad, you're being unreasonable. It's not my fault that you don't know how to properly decorate your own bulletin boards in your own classroom. I can't come home from Kelowna to help you get ready for the first day of school. Just go to the craft store by yourself. It will be okay. It will. No, you can't just cover the boards in old newspapers."

2) "I hurt my back while I was washing my hair. I'm certain that our shower is trying to kill me. Also, I might be eighty."

3) "Today at work, I read the plot descriptions of all four of the Hannibal Lecter movies. I've always been too chicken to watch them, but I was curious, so I read about them in detail. As it turns out, that was a bad idea. I'm too fucking terrified to go to sleep right now."

4) "Eating mint chocolate chip ice cream is not the same as brushing your teeth. No. It's not. I don't care how minty it is."

5) "I had the weirdest dream. There was this cat, and it kept attacking my arms. I'd try to fling it off me but it was latched on. And then there was a giant cake fight; people were smashing cake all over. And then I was swimming, but I was swimming in concrete, not water. Did you get me stoned last night without me noticing?"

6) "Did you just ask me if Stevie Nicks was in the band Styx? YOU ARE THE DUMBEST PERSON ALIVE. What do you think, they go together because they RHYME? Unbelievable. Honestly, sweetie, this is the worst question you've ever asked anyone, I guarantee it."

7) "I don't have any granola bars in my desk. No, I don't. Okay. Fine. I do. I have a granola bar, but that's not what this phone call is about. This phone call is about you going to get me a bagel. With cream cheese. And then delivering it to my work. A granola bar is not going to cut it."

8) "THEY HAVE WATERMELON BEER. I don't even like beer, but the fact that this beer is watermelon flavoured makes me feel like I have to buy it. A whole case. And then when I don't like it, I'll make you drink the rest. Sound good?"

9) "Let's go to Vancouver this weekend. It will probably only cost us my whole entire paycheck, but I see no issues with this. Also, there's a Tiffany store there. I know because I looked it up."

10) "You said you'd give me a back massage, but you didn't. You dumped some cream on my back, slopped it around with one hand and then you fell asleep. Oh, and for the record, it's not true that candles make everything romantic. I know you think it is, but it's not."

Happy Friday,

Thursday, August 30, 2012


Remember when steering wheels had little works of art in the middle of them? Me either. This picture is my desktop background right now. Just so you know. Because I'm important. I am. Ask The Prince. I buy the groceries. I feed him. IMPORTANCE=PROVEN.

And then I called my dad a dick

Earlier this summer (you guys, it's still summer) The Prince and I traveled back to Ontario to see our families.

On the day of our flight, my dad called me early in the morning:

My dad: "Hi. I just got your car out of the shed, where it's been stored..."

Me: "That's great, make sure to bring it to airport tonight, I want to drive it home."

My dad: "Well, see, here's the thing, the air conditioning doesn't seem to be working."

Me: "WHAT? My car is pratically BRAND NEW, there's no reason for the air conditioning to not be working."

My dad: "I guess you'll just have to do without the AC while you're driving it this week, your highness."

Me: "Ummm, no. Call the dealership, tell them the issue, and take it there to have it fixed before I get home tonight. It's under warranty."

My dad: "I can't. I have a lot of things on the roster for today. I'm a busy guy. I'm in demand."

Me: "DAD. You are a TEACHER, and it's JULY. You don't even have a job right now. Just take the car in. Ten bucks says you're going to spend the day watering the trees or something else just as stupid."

My dad: "No can do. I'm a farmer too, you know, I have a lot of land to look after. The trees probably do need a drink. And I have a tee time for golf later this afternoon."

Me: "Dad, please just do this for me. I can hear the smirk in your voice right now. It's so hot out, I can't drive that thing all over southwestern Ontario with no AC."

My dad: "Naaaah, I'm good."

Me : "You, sir, are a DICK. I'm calling mom now. Bye."

So then I called my mother, who was in the house at the time, instead of out in the shed where my dad was:

Me: "Hi mom. Dad's being a dick. Can you make him go get my car's AC fixed today? Before our flight gets in? It's important to me."

My mom: "Of course. I will take care of it. But please, honey, don't call your father a dick. That's such a foul thing to say. He's a good man. He's outside with a hose, I think he's going to water the trees or something. I'm making him a sandwich right now for lunch. If you're really upset, you might try convincing me to spit in his food, I could be up for that."

So, anyway, by the time I got that sorted out and was done slamming my head against the wall because apparently my parents don't understand that RAIN waters trees, it was time to head to the airport. Seven hours later, The Prince and I were finally home, my car had been fixed, and we were sitting in my parents' kitchen. We gave my mom and dad gifts that we had brought.

After his present had been opened, my dad goes:

"Okay, well, thanks. You can go back to Kelowna now, we've opened our gifts."

To which my mom goes:

"WOW. You ARE a dick."

My dad's response:

"I am what I am."


Wednesday, August 29, 2012


Like a mirror. A freaking mirror. How long do you think these car owners spend in their garages? Their whole entire lives?

And then I wrote a list of grievances disguised as a love letter

The Prince has been acting romantically lately, because of our little bet.

It's also been brought to my attention that this blog makes it seem like I am mean to The Prince, and that I never say nice things about him.

That's almost true, but not quite.

Anyway, after receiving a particularly sweet love letter the other day, I decided to compose my own love letter to The Prince.

Here it is:

Dear Prince,

I love you.

I love you even though you eat all of the blue creamsicles.

Every time we buy them.

I love you even though you think that the song Closing Time is by Third Eye Blind.

It's not, asshole, it's by Semisonic and you know it.

I love you even though you dump fresh baskets of laundry all over the floor.

For no apparent reason.

I love you even though you drive too fast and make me think I'm going to die.

Every day after work.

I love you even though you drink all my chocolate soy milk.

But please stop doing that.

I love you even though you don't know how to use apostrophes.

It's a challenge, but I manage.

I love you even though you think Meat Loaf (both the musician and food variety) is incredible.

Because he's not, and meat loaf as a food is also disgusting.

I love you even though you use my good shampoo.

Every time you take a freaking shower.

I love you even though you are a ginger kid.


I love you even though you didn't buy me that bracelet.


I love you even though you are a giant shithead all of the time.

Because you are mine, little ginger kitten, and you make me happy even when you drive me crazy.

With a grin,

Tuesday, August 28, 2012


The Prince has owned these (hideous) shoes since long before I met him, which should be obvious given that THEY'RE FALLING APART. He will not throw them away. I would happily do it for him, but he protects them from me. I'm not kidding. He protects them; practically guards them from my reach. Suggestions? Ways I could turn this situation into an epic win for me? Sound off in the comments.

I pierced my own tongue once

Well, it was actually my tongue web.

You know, the little webby part underneath your tongue.

Google if you must.

I did it in the 11th grade.

Because my friend did it first and I wanted to be badass, too.

Pierced it with a push pin.


May or may not have been high at the time.

I was going through a phase.

Took me over an hour to get a barbell in it after the inital stabbing was over.

Then my entire mouth swelled up, and I was slurring my speech for a week.

Somehow, my parents did not find out about my self-mutilation.

Amazing, I know.

Once it healed, I had this gross habit of somehow pulling the barbell through my teeth.

I am an animal.

Anyway, one day in English class, I was pulling the barbell.

And then I felt a snap in my mouth.

And the barbell was out.

Because I had just snapped my tongue web in half.

Was not a good time.

True story.

 I am cool as hell.


Monday, August 27, 2012


Taking the bus is so terrible. Well, it is in this city. By "terrible" I mean UNRELIABLE AS HELL. It's no fun being entirely unsure of what time you'll get to work at. Be thankful for your vehicles if you've got them. (We have a vehicle here now, but we didn't for a long time.)

And then my dad hit my mom and it was funny

How's that for a title?

My dad called me on Friday night. Our conversation went like this:

Me: "Hi dad."

My dad: "Okay listen to this. So. Your brother and a few of his friends are outside right now packing up for a booze-fest weekend at the cottage, and while they've been doing that they have also been playing frisbee with Jet (the family dog).

Anyway, one of the guys threw the frisbee and it landed waaay up in one of the giant trees beside the house. This, of course, made our crazy dog go crazy, so I had to figure out a way to get it down.

I went to the shed and grabbed one of those heavy, rubberized balls- you know, the ones that Jet likes to eat for breakfast when he's feeling destructive. I walked over to the tree and your brother and all his friends are saying 'You can't hit the frisbee with that, that would be an impossible shot, no way'.

Regardless, I take one look and throw the ball, hard, up into the tree where the frisbee is. It HITS THE FRISBEE, and the frisbee comes tumbling down toward Jet, who has been waiting for this moment.

But, since I threw the ball so hard, it actually continued flying through the tree past all the branches. And then it came down right in the exact spot in the yard where your mother was tending some flowers.

It hit her in the head. IT HIT HER IN THE HEAD. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA."

Me: "DAD."


My dad: "Oh, come on. It was an ACCIDENT. A lucky, comical accident. Honestly, if I stood there for the rest of my life trying to recreate this moment, I couldn't do it. Not only did my shot hit the frisbee on the first try, it had the added bonus of hitting your mother on the head when it came down."

Me: "And let me guess, you had to call me immediately so that you got to tell it your way before mom ruined it with her hysterics."

My dad: "Exactly. It was so awesome. Your brother and his friends think it was the best thing ever. They're still laughing outside. I'm practically a hero."

Me: "Okay dad. Yes, it's a funny story."

My dad: "It's not just a funny story. This event is the DEFINITION of 'hitting two birds with one stone'."

Me: "Okay dad."

My dad: "I have to go. Your mother is threatening to stop cooking dinner. Bye."

True story,

P.S. Want to read more about my dad? Try these:

1) Some amusing things about my dad
2) And then my dad got some new sandals
3) And then there was a story about my parents

Saturday, August 25, 2012


This is what I call "considerate street art". You draw on a sticker and THEN you stick it on pubic property.

Friday, August 24, 2012


Do you realize what a lucky shot it was to catch this guy in a picture as he zoomed by right in front of me? The Prince didn't.

Some things I said this week

1) "Hi mom. Yes, that is a good price for Larabars. Yeah. You should buy them. Okay. You DO realize it's like 5am for me right now, don't you? Calls at 5am are for when someone is dying, not for when you see Larabars on sale."

2) "Can we just have ice cream for dinner? Ravioli sounds good, sure, but ice cream is really all I want."

3) "Did you SERIOUSLY just drop that baking sheet on the floor in protest? What are you, four? I fear for our future children. They are going to be the most stubborn, disrespectful little shits ever created."

4) "I just need you to be quiet. I'm sorry it's taking me more than 30 seconds to pick out a good conditioner, but this is important to me like cereal selection is important to you, so shut up."

5) "You are an hour and a half late. AN HOUR AND A HALF. Don't tell me my anger is unreasonable, jerkstore, just take me home and make me dinner. And buy me a cherry slushie. Now."

6) "Noooo. That wasn't the alarm, you're making it up. I'm not going. I'm not going to work today. Or tomorrow. Or ever. I'm saying in bed. Throw the box of Cheerios over here before you leave, okay?"

7) "SCREW THIS. It's 4am. She (our landlord's teenage daughter that lives above our apartment) is still playing that same sad, stupid song. I don't care if she just got dumped, can you PLEASE go up there and tell her that NOBODY CARES? She's 14. Breakups don't warrant this behaviour when you're 14. She is not going to have a good time when she's 20."

8) "I'm sorry, sweetie, but if you're going to eat tuna, you're going to have to do it outside."

9) "Did you steal my lip balm? Are you sure? Why are your lips so smooth? Why are you smirking? Are you trying to be pretty again?"

10) "You just said that the peanut butter cookies I made for you are MUSHY. 'Mushy' is not a positive descriptor in my book, so you're sleeping on the couch tonight. That's how things work here. It's like that old saying, you know? If you don't have anything nice to say, YOU SLEEP ON THE COUCH."

Happy Friday,

Thursday, August 23, 2012


I'm posting this picture BUT instead of saying anything about it, I'm telling you this: our landlord's new puppy shit on our walkway. So yeah. That was a nice little surprise to come home to. Not.

And then I pimped for presents

Last night when I got home from work:

Me: "Hey! Guess what! I got a package!"

The Prince: "I thought I told you I wasn't really into that sort of thing."

Me: "Don't be a jerk. I mean a MAIL package. From Jen. She even sent you a meat treat."


Me: "I figured you might be. Look at these tea towels she made for us! Honestly, her blog name says she's crafty, and it's actually true."

The Prince: "I can see how you might be surprised by the truth in her statement, given that your blog is all "LOOK AT ME I'M FUNNY" when actually you're not funny at all."

Me: "Dude, I will take away your meat treat. Don't test me. Seriously, though, look at these, they are badass."

SUPER DUCK. Made by Jen of Crafty Home Improvement Misadventures
Toasty Love. Made by Jen of Crafty Home Improvement Misadventures
The Prince: "Those are actually awesome."

Me: "I told you they were. I'm going to show them off on my blog tomorrow so that everyone will know how amazing Jen is."

The Prince: "What? I thought you had a strict 'no whoring' policy when it came to the blog. You know, because you're a hipster and you're all about integrity or some shit."

Me: "I am not a hipster. Second, how well do you know me? Of course I wouldn't whore for just anyone, but Jen sent me swag, so she gets a blog post."

The Prince: "So what you're saying, then, is that you are willing to pimp for presents."

Me: "Exactly."

The Prince: "You are shady as fuck."

Me: "Perhaps. Apparently Jen thinks I'm a skank, also. Look at this magnet she sent me."

Really, Jen? Really?
The Prince: "Again, I am in love with Jen. She has the guts to say what everyone else is thinking."

Me: "You think I'm a skank?"

The Prince: "When I met you, and you were a bartender? Yup."

Me: "But now I'm just a blog pimp, right?"

The Prince: "Nah. Still a skank."


Wednesday, August 22, 2012


These shoes lasted for one week before my toes came out of holes that wore in the front. Good job, Sterling Shoes. NOT. Maybe it's my own fault, though... my toes ARE freakishly long and finger-like.

And then I saw a terrible crime but actually not really

During one of our arguments conversations earlier this week, The Prince and I started a new contest between the two of us.

The jyst: I have to shave my legs every day for the rest of August, whereas The Prince has to do something romantic every day for the rest of August.

How did this happen, you ask? Let me tell you:

Me: "You never do anything romantic anymore."

The Prince: "You never shave your legs anymore."

And so, this new contest was born.

As an aside, don't go assuming that my legs are disgustingly hairy or anything- it's just that I like to take a few days off between shaving them, mostly because our shower is a death trap of steam and OH REMEMBER THAT TIME I PASSED OUT IN THERE? Yeah.

Anyway, last night, The Prince's romantic gesture was to take me down to the edge of the lake to watch the sunset.

We sat on a bench and watched the sky get all pretty and shit, and then, surprise, it got dark.

We kept sitting there, though, cuddling and holding hands, because, you know, romance.

I should mention, though, that I am terrified of this lake. Why? Because there's lots of gang activity where we live and they pull bodies out of the lake frequently.

I am not even shitting you right now.

At some point, I noticed a boat speeding across the lake.

Me: "Whoa, isn't it way too dark right now to be boating?"

The Prince: "Yeah, and especially at that speed. Dude is motoring."

Me: "He's slowing down out there... weird, he's totally stopping in the middle of the lake."

The Prince: "That's not that weird."

Me: "Um, stopping in the middle of the lake once it's really dark? We are absolutely witnessing a crime right now. Ten bucks says there's a body being hurled over the far side of that boat."

The Prince: "No way, it's still early. Too many people are out."

Me: "It's still too dark to see any body-hurlage."

The Prince: "Please, stop it. I'm trying to be romantic over here, and you're being crazy."

Me: "FINE, but when I get to work in the morning and the first thing I hear about is how they pulled another body out of the lake, we'll just SEE who wins this argument."

The Prince: "Ooooh my goodness. Come on, we're leaving. Let's go dip our toes in at the pier before we leave."

Me: "Oh HELL to the no. I'm not dipping my toes in dead body water. Nope nope nope."

The Prince: "You are IMPOSSIBLE."

Me: "But my legs are smooth!"


Tuesday, August 21, 2012


Multiple car owners at this show made fun of me for taking pictures of the wheels on their vehicles. Some of them were like: "You could take a picture of the whole thing, you know, and I will stand beside it." And then in my head, I was like: "Uuuuuummm, nope, you're ugly."

And then I tried to swindle my way into an expensive gift for no reason

Last night before going to sleep:

Me: "Yeah so there's this silver bracelet I want, I think it's even on sale for something ridiculously low like 200 bucks."

The Prince: "Your notion of 'ridiculously low' is a little whacked considering that, less than an hour ago, you got pissed at me in the grocery store for attempting to buy baby spinach that was 10 CENTS more than the baby spinach you intended to purchase."

Me: "Yeah but that spinach was for a salad. This bracelet would be for life."

The Prince: "Bullshit. You have more silver jewelry than you know what to do with."

Me: "I hoard it, okay? When I was a toddler I used to hoard My Little Pony toys and carry them around everywhere, and now that I'm a grown woman, I hoard sterling silver jewelry. You're just going to have to accept this. Accept this and buy me that bracelet."

The Prince: "No way. Maybe for Christmas. Christmas is the next special occasion that warrants a gift of jewelry."

Me: "See, here's the thing. I've been thinking about this..."

The Prince: "Oh no, not THINKING."

Me: "Shhhh. You see, There's Christmas, which we agree is a jewelry-sanctioned event. After that, BAM, it's Valentine's Day. That means more sparkly things. Then comes April, and WOO, it's my birthday, and we both know that means expensive shit, and then less than one month later, YIPPEE it's our yearly dating anniversary, and really, how could that EVER not mean jewelry?
Doesn't this just make your heart race?

The Prince: "Unbelievably, I'm listening to this crap. Go on."

Me: "So what I'm saying is that for the first half of the year, from Christmastime through to May, I am a happy camper. There are jewelry events practically raining from the skies. But then there's June, July, August, September, October and November... all with no shiny gifts."

The Prince: "So?"

Me: "I'm just not okay with it, you know? I mean, I've practically made it through the first 3 jewelry-free months of this year already, and I'm telling you, these are sad times. I think you should just buy me the bracelet. I bet if you buy it, I'll be able to make it through until Christmas without becoming a total dragon."

The Prince: "Doubtful."

Me: "HEY."

The Prince: "I'm not buying you the bracelet."

Me: "Yes you are. I'm going to blog about this, and then everyone who comments will be all 'The Prince should totally buy you the bracelet' and then you'll feel inclined."

The Prince: "If by 'inclined' you mean 'pressured', I regret to inform you that I don't give a shit."

Me: "You are so mean to me."

The Prince: "I am not. Come here. Give me a kiss."

Me: "Eff that idea. Give me a bracelet."


Monday, August 20, 2012


Yay or nay to Tabasco sauce?

And that voicemail disaster is how I know it's Monday

Alright, so, it's still considerably early here in sunny British Columbia.

I'm not sure why I just told you that, given that "earliness" isn't really a good enough excuse for the idiocy I'm about to let you in on. 

The Prince has the day off from work, which means he's currently at home playing Skyrim in his underwear and NOT folding the clean laundry as instructed, I'm sure of it.

Because it's his day off, he didn't make any coffee this morning. When I went to leave the apartment, I said:

"You do realize that you not making any coffee is going to result in some serious work mistakes on my part, and I'm going to blame those mistakes on not having coffee, and then I'm going to blame not having coffee on you, and then wouldn't you know it, it's all your fault."

The Prince's response?

"Okay cutie, have fun at work."

ANYWAY, when I arrived at work about an hour ago, I rushed to make an important call.

The guy I was calling didn't answer, so I left him a voicemail:

"Hi James, it's 'The Management' calling from The Place I Work At. I was hoping you could send me X and also X this morning so I can get started on that new project. You can call me back at... oh, no. *long pause as I frantically try to Google the phone number of the place I work at* Um, James? Yeah, I'm still here. I just forgot the number of the place I work at. Hang on. *long pause while I frantically try to find one of my own business cards, where the phone number will certainly be* Okay, okay, I got it. It's 555-666-7777. I'm really sorry about that. Is it Monday morning or what? *sheepish laugh* I swear I'm not an idiot, I just need coffee. Talk to you soon. Bye."

And that voicemail disaster is how I know it's Monday AND how I know that I'm going to totally win the obvious upcoming argument with The Prince when I get home because I was SO RIGHT I AM ALWAYS RIGHT.

After I hung up the phone, one of my co-workers walked up behind me, patted me on the back and was like:

"Maybe you could write the business number down on a sticky note and stick it to your desk?"

To which I was like:

"Maybe you could SHUT YOUR FACE."

Also, this is the text I just sent The Prince: "Hi, Skyrim-playing asshole. I'll have you know that I just made a work mistake because I didn't have any coffee. Remember what that means? Bad things. It means BAD THINGS FOR YOU. You will hereby make coffee every morning without fail until I'm dead and cold. Love youuuu."

And I'll have all of you know, if ANYONE who comments suggests that maybe I should just make my own damn coffee in the morning, the world will probably just be over. Like, over. OVER.

Here's to Monday mornings,

Sunday, August 19, 2012


The Prince: "Can you please stop taking pictures of grass now? I'm really hungry and you haven't fed me dinner yet."


Stolen flowers and summer road trips... there's a FEW reasons I like The Prince. FEW.

Saturday, August 18, 2012


My dad was devastated when the Pontiac brand was discontinued. He's still not over it.

Friday, August 17, 2012


The pink things look like a bunch of little... yeah. I'm inappropriate. I know. Whatevs. Happy Friday.

Some things I said this week

It's been quite a week with The Prince, you guys...

1) "How is it even possible that I have over fifty scarves and not a SINGLE ONE matches this outfit? Don't give me that look. I know you think wearing scarves in August is ridiculous, but keep in mind I feel the same way about you and your need for 17 blankets at night when it's boiling in our room. YEAH."

2) "I did not scratch up the front corner of your Jeep. You don't even let me DRIVE the Jeep, so really, how could this be my fault?"

3) "Stop lying to me about the time when I wake up. Don't say it's already 7 when it's actually only 6:50. It's not like I'm going to notice the difference in time and think 'Oh, awesome, I time traveled!'. No. Pulling that shit makes me want to hurt you, okay?"

4) "Stop eating the nachos that have all the cheese. Eat from your own side of the plate. Your nacho etiquette is seriously lacking."

5) "You mean you're okay with eating the veggie burgers? Really? You don't want me to go grab some meat ones, too? Okay, awesome. This is why I keep you around."

6) "But that is CORN relish. I don't want corn relish, I want pickle-like relish, you know, the normal green stuff. That corn relish is yellow. Who does it think it is, being yellow? Yellow is totally mustard's thing."

7) "Do you still love me even though this breakout on my chin is becoming a small country? Stop laughing. They're rallying to fight for independence."

8) "My brother just called. He told me that he just got a new coat, and that it reminds him of your coat, and now he's worried he's too 'pretty' to be a mechanic."

9) "I picked out my Christmas present while I was at work today. Check your email, I sent you the link."

10) "What do you mean you're at home napping? You should still be at work. You can't just go home early without telling me and then take secret naps. That's like cheating on me, asshole."

The corn relish was pretty good, FYI.

Thursday, August 16, 2012


This is so awesome I can't even stand it. I could drive it, though. That I could do.

And then I felt badly for the Tim Hortons employees

So, everyone in Canada loves their Tim Hortons. It's true. That's not just a thing that people say.
Anyway, because we're true Canadians, when The Prince, his brother The Knight (he's 16 and loves Batman) and I were making the nine-hour drive home from our trip to hell their family reunion, we stopped at something like 6 different Tim Hortons' along the way.

At probably our fourth Timmy-Ho stop, The Knight announced that he had to use the washroom.

Roughly 15 minutes later, he exits the Tim Hortons. The Prince and I watched as he walked briskly back to us in the waiting car.

Once into the back seat, The Knight looked up at me VIA the rearview mirror:

"Why aren't you driving yet? There's no time for sitting around, okay? We need to make a quick getaway. I just destroyed the toilet in there."


The Prince: "Hahahahaha way to go, man!"

The Knight: "Seriously, DRIVE. I'm positive that by now, there will be water all over the floor of that bathroom. There was zero flushage action going on when I left. There was nothing I could do."

The Prince: "Serves you right, dude, you ate SOOOO much Wendy's last night."


The Knight: "YOU, START DRIVING. I heard them talking about cleaning the washrooms on my way out, and when they see that mess they're going to KNOW it was me, I was JUST in there."

The Prince: "This is officially the best part of our vacation."

Me, driving away: "I hate you both so much right now. You are not the sweet, polite little ginger boys you pretend to be. You are both bathroom demons. I feel so badly for the poor teenager who is going to be forced to plunge that toilet."

The Knight: "You should feel bad for me instead. I'm starving. I could eat a horse. How long until the next stop? Do you think there will there be a Wendy's we can eat at?"

The Prince: "HAHAHAHHA, Shhhhh! We should stop talking now, her eyes are getting all murder-y. They only get like that when she's seriously pissed. I know because I live with her. This is the same murder-y look she gets when I ruin the toilet in our apartment."


Wednesday, August 15, 2012


Does anyone else remember the movie "Once Upon a Forest"? Where the little animals run away from the "yellow dragons", which are really construction machinery? Please say yes.

And the remainder of the chicken was crawling with maggots OR Another reason I hate my landlord

So guess what, it's Wednesday, and because I'm totally on top of business, I'm going to tell you about something that happened way back on Sunday.

Deal with it.

Around 2pm on Sunday in the scorching, desert-like heat, The Prince and I decided to venture out of our apartment.

Upon opening the door, we were struck in the nostrils by a terrible, terrible smell.

As the two of us walked around the side of the house to our vehicle, we came upon our landlord, who was on her hands and knees on the tiny patch of grass that is essentially our only pathway out of the yard.

Next to her, she had a hose, the giant garbage bin, bags of garbage, and the rotting carcass of what I assume used to be a roasted chicken.

And the remainder of the chicken was crawling with maggots.

The Prince and I were both appalled and had our shirts pulled up over our faces in disgust. The stench of the decomposing chicken was altogether TOO EFFING MUCH.

So our landlord goes:

"Oh hi guys! Sorry about this mess. We had this chicken about five days ago, but then we were leaving to go camping and I didn't want it in my house so I thought if I put it in a bag and then put it in the garbage thing outside that the bugs would never find it... turns out I was wrong! Ha! Ha! I guess with all the heat, they could smell it! Could you guys smell it? Anyway, I'm just washing everything down now because there are maggots EVERYWHERE. Still not sure what to do with the bones, though. Oh, and I did it over here at the side of the house so I wouldn't be washing all the bugs onto my front lawn."

Me: "Oh my god. Oh. Okay. We need to get by you, though, we're going downtown. I don't really want to walk through maggots*."

*I am not kidding when I say that I could see them ALL OVER THE GRASS.

Landlord: "Oh, well. There really isn't a way around it for you guys, is there? I guess you'll just have to walk through. You don't look so hot. Does this bother you because you're a vegetarian?"

Me: "No no, it's fine."

So then we dodged and jumped our way through an obstacle course of garbage, dead chicken and squirmy maggots.

And once we were finally in the Jeep, driving away:


True story,

Tuesday, August 14, 2012


This school is down the street from our apartment. We can gauge how late we are for work by the number of kids on the playground when we drive by it every morning. 7:50AM? No kids. 8:10am? KIDS EVERYWHERE.

And then The Prince took a nap on a little old lady

The Prince and I weren't seated next to each other on our flight home to Ontario, which sucked.

However, there was a silver- or should I say, white, freshly-permed, lining to this.

The Prince was seated about four rows behind me and to the right, so if I turned my head at the perfect angle from where I was sitting, I could see the top of his ginger head.

Every once in a while, I'd peek back at him. Not sure why, I guess I love him or something? No idea.

Anywho, during one of my look-backs, I noticed he wasn't in his seat. I figured he might be in the washroom.

15 minutes later when he still didn't appear to be in his seat, I decided that maybe he was slouching, and that I'd have to manoeuvre a better viewing angle.

After a bit of squirming and getting way too close to the man beside me, I could see The Prince again.

And he was sound asleep, snuggled up on the shoulder of the tiniest, cutest, white-haired old lady that was sitting next to him.

I can't be certain, but I think she may have been asleep also, all cuddled up with my little ginger boy.

When we got of the plane and met up with my parents, the first thing they asked was, of course:

"How was the flight?!"

Me: "It was awesome. The Prince took a nap on an unsuspecting little old lady."

My dad: "What a creeper."


Monday, August 13, 2012


The Prince likes this beer. I don't. Do you have a favourite beer brand?

And then The Prince dragged me to his family reunion where I was forced to camp and it was terrible

Picture this, dear friends: me, The Prince, his immediate family and 400 other people who are all related to The Prince in some way. Now take all of those people and put them in the same campground.

Oh, and did I mention that those 400 other people are predominately French? As in French is their native language and they don't speak English? And even if they know you don't speak French, they're somehow inclined to speak French at you?

Look at me, perpetuating Canadian stereotypes on the internet. I am all kinds of awesome.

I should also mention that I am SO not the camping type. I don't camp. Because gross.

Anyway, here are some things that happened while I was stranded on a three-day camping trip that was also a giant French family reunion:

1) The Prince and his father lied to me about how long it would take to get to the tiny, northern Ontario town we were going to. They said the drive would take four hours. It took nine. NINE. Also, The Prince's little brother insisted on being in the same car as us, so at one point when I was driving and The Prince was napping, I got to talk to a very enthusiastic 10-year-old about all the possible uses there are for DUCT TAPE.

2) I whined and complained about sleeping on the ground enough that one of The Prince's cousins gave us their air mattress. I count this as pretty much my only "win" of the weekend.

3) Torrential downpours and thunderstorms. TORRENTIAL. I woke up on the second night because our tent had collapsed on us. Then I had to wake up The Prince: "HEY. HEY. THE TENT IS ON ME. HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO SLEEP THROUGH THIS? I FUCKING HATE CAMPING. GO FIX THIS PIECE OF SHIT."

4) The air mattress I whined my way into getting had a slow-leak hole in it somewhere, so it really only protected me from sleeping on the cold, wet ground for about an hour after going to bed. Glorious, no?

5) I was eaten by bugs. Big scary ones. And everyone made fun of me for constantly applying bug spray like I was being a total princess or something. WHATEVER, JERKS.

6) There were a measly FOUR showers available on the campground for all 400 people to use. When I finally got a chance to use one, I cried while I washed my hair because the water stank like LAKE.

7) I rolled over in our tent and landed in a puddle. It was at that moment that I let out a glorious "FUCK", elbowed The Prince (because obviously everything was his fault) and stormed out of the tent to go sleep in the car.

8) I figured out where The Prince got his snoring talent from. HIS DAD. HE GOT IT FROM HIS DAD. Honestly, I thought there were bears outside the tent planning to eat my face. When I migrated to the car in anger, I could still hear him snoring from his tent, which was about thirty feet away. When I walked all the way to the main cabin at 4am to use the washroom, I could still hear The Prince's dad making angry bear sounds. Seriously, that is some impressive range, am I right? I stood on the deck of the cabin and laughed to myself BECAUSE HOLY SHIT HOW IS ANYONE ELSE ASLEEP RIGHT NOW I HATE ALL YOU SONS OF BITCHES.

9) A few of us took a trip to Quebec (which was only 20 minutes from where we were camping) in search of cheap beer. We found beer right away (at a gas station, ha) and then continued down the highway in search of anything else remotely cool. When the first town we came upon was composed of only churches and little houses, we decided Quebec sucked and turned the car around.

10) When we were saying our goodbyes, a few members of The Prince's extended family said things like "See you in four years at the next reunion!" I smiled and nodded, but once I was in the car and the windows were up, I grabbed The Prince's arm, gritted my teeth and uttered the words "Never. Again." Then I had to spend the nine-hour drive back our hometown listening to The Prince tell me that "It will be better next time" because he's planning on buying a 400-dollar tent. 400 DOLLAR TENT MY ASS; I WILL BE GETTING A DAMN HOTEL ROOM.

So, yeah.

Friday, August 10, 2012


A cat on a leash watched me take this picture. True story.

And then I came back to the blogosphere

Did you miss me, bitches?

Of course you did.

Maybe you didn’t realize, but for the last two weeks you’ve been reading pre-packaged, scheduled blog posts while I’ve been away visiting my entourage in Ontario.

Or maybe you did realize, considering that I haven’t been responding to comments.

I had plans to keep up with that, I swear. But then I was drunk for an entire week and suddenly my general feeling toward comment response was sort of like “FUCK THAT NOISE” if you know what I mean.

But now I’m baaaaaaaaack.

The Prince and I have been back in Kelowna for just over a day, and so far, these are the best things that have been said:

1) “Yeah, the keys. THE ONLY KEYS. The only keys we have to your stupid Jeep are locked in the stupid glove box. We are locked out of the Jeep and it’s midnight and if we can’t go get a loaf of bread so that I can have some mothereffing toast I am going to LOSE IT.”

2) “Okay. Feel the carpet in our room. Do you see how this is truly like sandpaper compared to the carpet at my parents’ house? This carpet is some sub-par shit. I knew it all along but our trip home just confirmed it. I have seen the other side, I have walked on plush, luxurious carpet for two weeks and now I have to deal with this downgrade? Unacceptable!”

3) “Our parents really took that whole ‘cheese is expensive in Kelowna’ thing to heart. Your dad gave you three blocks of cheese, and I just noticed that my mom stuck two more in my bag. We have five blocks of cheese… that’s like fifty dollars. We are CHEESE MILLIONAIRES.”

Glad to be back,

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Wednesday, August 8, 2012


Last time I took a picture of some monkey bars you guys told me I was hanging out at a sex park. WHAT ABOUT THESE ONES? Hmm?