Would you like some rum with that?

I have been home sick with a raging headache for days and I ran out of creamo and milk. So I opened the fridge to stare into the near empty space inside and thought, "well, I guess I will just drink it black".

Then the thought occurred to me, "I could add some rum". Then that little voice inside my head said, "Uh, since when is rum a substitute for creamo?". So I quickly dismissed the rum idea and am now drinking my coffee black with sugar until I get my lazy ass up to the store to get some creamo. I'll save the rum for some other occasion more befitting...like Friday night.

Beggars, bums and ne'er-do-wells

I realize that people fall on hard times for various reasons and there but for the Grace of God go I, but....what's with all these fucking rude bums that think everybody owes them something?

I was walking along the street, minding my own damn business, when this guy starts walking beside me cursing and swearing about how 'fucking cheap assholes won't help a guy out'. It seems to me he's more or less talking to the wind and not me directly but he's keeping step with me as I walk along, all the while bitching and complaining about how people are a bunch of assholes.

He says, "I work you know. I've got a job but I need bus fare to take the SeaBus because my wife is over there and I don't get paid til tomorrow". I'm thinking, how convenient that your job pays you on Welfare Wednesday! But I say nothing and keep walking. He continues his little rant until we finally stop at the light. Then he says, "so, can you help me out? I work, I have a job, I just need to get the fucking SeaBus".

Personally I don't give out change to bums on the street. There are soup kitchens if they are hungry and all sorts of social services to help them out. I also think that for the most part they just use the money to get high so I just don't give them money. This guy was definitely jonesing for a fix, as they say, and it wasn't the SeaBus he needed the $ for.

So I say, "no, sorry buddy, I don't have any change". Well, that set off a rant like you've never seen! He's cursing and swearing and so I say, "listen, I don't owe you a fucking thing and neither does anyone else on the street, I have 2 jobs and I don't earn my money to support you, I've got my own bills, where do you get off thinking everyone else owes you something?"

He is a bit taken back, guess he didn't think I had it in me and so he just says, "fucking bitch" and storms off.

You've got that right, buddy! I am a fucking bitch when you think I owe you something. You're already getting my charity through the charitable donations I make and the taxes I pay for the services you sponge off of. Get a fucking job.

Is that allowed on the internet?

So I was talking to my 83 year old mother and telling her about this blog. I read her a sampling of the posts and she was quiet while I read them to her. When I was finished she said: "Hmmmfffff, I didn't think you could use language like that on the internet. Is that allowed?"

I explained to her that it is allowed, so she said: "Well, I wouldn't think that was allowed. It's rude. It shouldn't be allowed. Can just anybody see that?"

Me: "Yes, Mom, anybody can see it who has an internet connection."

Mom: "Well you shouldn't be talking like that on the internet. I don't think it's very nice. Can't you think of some other way to say what you have to say?"

Me: "It's not like it's kiddie porn, for God's sake!"

Mom: "What? I'm just saying I rather you didn't talk like that. It's not necessary, is it?"

Me: "Nobody knows it's me."

Mom: "Still, I know and you know. It's not very ladylike." (this is usually the part where she throws in: you weren't raised like that...thank God it didn't go that far!)

Me: "Ok Mom, I won't do it again."

Mom: "Alright. Goodnight"

Me: "Goodnight."

I'm thinking: Holy Shit! Last time I tell her anything!

Stupid bitches who scream like they're being murdered!

I live in a high rise. There can be quite a few people walking around down on the street late at night. When my windows are closed I can't hear a thing but when the weather is warm I usually leave the windows open and can hear quite a bit of street noise.

The thing that pisses me off the most is these stupid fucking bitches who scream like someone is killing them. I've even heard some of them yelling "help! help!" because their stupid boyfriend is tickling them!

Seriously? Stupid fucking cow! And then they wonder why no one pays attention when someone really is attacked in this city.

Teach your daughters not to scream unless they are in trouble!

Stupid people who think they are bylaw officers

Ok, so I just took my lil babe Stewie out for his last pee pee and guess WTF! happened? Some old "FUCK" of a woman told me my dog needs to be on a leash, I told her she needs to mind her own business and move on. WTF! is wrong with people? I mean really people get with the program....

Some people should not be allowed to leave the house.....

Ok, so this really happened to me Friday April 20th, 2012.  I was referred a client and after countless emails and several attempts of playing phone tag we finally set a day and time to do her Brazilan Blowout.  The "client," and that's putting it nicely, shows up 15 minutes late and expects me to take her, even though I have another client booked in after her.  I agree anyway and start the service, it was problem after problem, she thought the water was too hot, then too cold, then too hot again, did not like the smell of the shampoo (I had to explain that this is the shampoo the goes with the service and all I got from her was 'well, ok') then she did not like the smell of the product that I was using, my brush hurt her head, blowdryer was too hot, I was pulling way to hard and OMFG! I was about to kill her.  When all was said and done I told her 'please do not book in with me ever again' and guess what? she had the nerve to ask me why! LOL....WTF IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?

Snobby furniture sales people

Since I sold my car to 'go green' I've been walking a lot more and further from the usual home-office-home.

I've noticed there are quite a few very posh furniture stores that cater to the very wealthy that live in my neighbourhood. Not like IKEA or Sears, where us regular folks shop.

For the most part, the sales people are friendly and helpful but there are a few judgemental dickwads that give me "that look". You know the look? Like I'm not good enough to be in their store or can't possibly be rich enough to purchase this shit. Those are the ones I like to have a little fun with.

I take my time looking at all the $20,000 sofas and $12,000 coffee tables. I think: what the fuck is this shit made of? Gold????? I think the salesman can read my mind and has somehow scanned my bank account and knows damn well I haven't got the money for this stuff. But then I think: for all he/she knows,  I could be the daughter of Howard Hughes and like my father, I have no fashion sense!

They tactfully avoid eye contact but eventually they have to look up and that's when I smile and say:

• How can you be sure the leather in that sofa is Italian?
• Is it Sicilian or just regular Italian?
• Are you sure?
• Why don't the french make leather?
• Would they call it French leather or Parisian leather do you think?
• What's the difference between an Italian cowhide and an Alberta grain fed cowhide?

Be serious when you ask this shit and make sure you're dressed to the 9's otherwise they will kick you out of the store. They can't really scan your bank card to determine your liquidity and they don't really know you're not the daughter of Howard Hughes. Ha! Cheap entertainment.

Campy songs from my youth

Gotta love Nancy Sinatra! Me and a few friends performed this song for our grade 4 teacher, Mrs. Burns, aka: Hoss Burns. I don't recall her reaction, but I'm sure it was classic Hoss.

Why swearing jars don't fucking work

Ok, I agree that if you've got little kids and you're husband is dropping f-bombs more often than he farts, a swearing jar might be a good way to teach him to STFU and the kids that even daddy can be disciplined.

But in the workplace or at a club, it's just not going to work and here's a little story to explain why it's not going to work.

I am the senior staff member where I work. We had hired a wonderful, soft spoken, kind-hearted soul who I will call Cathy (because that's her name) and Cathy was offended by all the cursing and swearing that was going on in the office. After several years of working with all of us foul-mouthed assholes Cathy decided to instigate a swearing jar. Here's what happened when I arrived for work that day and everyone was gathered around Cathy's desk.

Me: Hi, what's going on?

Bob: Cathy's got something to show you.

Me: Oh yeah? What is it?

Cathy: (very nervously) it's a swearing jar.

Me: What the fuck?

Bob: ka-ching

Me: What the fuck are we going to do with a fucking swearing jar? What the fuck is it for?

Bob: ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching

Me: Shut the fuck up Bob, fuck off.

Cathy: Well, I just thought that we could put 25 cents in every time we swear and then we could buy ourselves something nice with the money and learn to stop swearing so much at the same time.

Me: Something nice? That is the stupidist fucking idea I've ever heard of. I'd be fucking broke by the end of the fucking day. It's not going to fucking work and I'm not putting a quarter into that fucking jar all fucking day long. If you want to put your own quarter in every fucking time I swear, then knock yourself out.

Bob: ka-ching times a billion.

Me: Seriously Bob, fuck off.

Cathy: how about a dime?

Me: how about we drop the whole stupid idea?

Cathy: a nickel?

Me: not fucking likely

After this I proceed to my desk and google British swear words. Then I ask Cathy for a list of the offending words to which a person would have to contribute to the jar. She reluctantly starts listing the words:

Fuck - in all it's various forms
Shit
Asshole
Cunt (rarely used but effective in some situations)
etc...

So I decide I'm not putting a fucking red cent in that fucking jar...I'm going to swear in British from now on. Another co-worker starts a conversation about someone who is for all intents and purposes a total fucking asshole. So I say: oh that wanker, he's such a pillock, I can't stand that twat.

Needless to say the swearing jar went the way of the do-do bird. Poor Cathy, she tried. That was about 10 years ago and since then she's come over to the dark side. Just the other day I heard her drop an f-bomb. Way to go Cathy! I'm fucking proud of you!

Drunk woman on the bus

Seriously. I get on the bus after bingo, so it's like midnight. The bus is not crowded, maybe 10 people all together. I have no idea how many seats are on a bus, but there are definitely a shitload more than 10.

So this very intoxicated old street woman gets on the bus. At first I thought it may be a man because she's huge. Tall and just generally a big woman. She is wearing men's clothing - big blue work pants, flat non-descript black shoes, a big wool sweater, her hair is shoulder length - I can't really describe it because looking at it made me sad and slightly nauseous. She had a cane that I'm sure was more of a weapon than a medical aid. She was completely shit faced drunk.

The bus is practically empty and she sits next to me, jamming me up against the window. WTF???????? Seriously????????????? I say nothing for fear of being beaten to death with that cane. She looks pretty pissed off.

She says (without looking at me)....Ever been to the Balmoral?

Me: Uh, no, no I don't think so.

Drunk: It's pretty good, cheap, fucking cheap beer. You should go.

Me: hmmmm, thanks, where is it?

The bus stops to pick up a passenger to whom she hollers: Sit the fuck down! Grab a seat! Fuck!

To me she says: It's up on Hastings, I'll show you when we get there. You can come with me and we'll get some fucking cheap beers.

I'm thinking....WTF????????????????????????????????????????????????? Not fucking likely butch. But I say nothing.

She says to everyone on the bus: The fucking Balmoral has cheap beers! It's not expensive at all! Cheap fucking beers! Sit the fuck down! Grab a seat!

I reach in my pocket for my cell phone...ahhh it's there....just in case I have to dial 911 to save my ass. I wonder to myself: do people think I'm with her? Why me? Do I have a sign on my head? I look pretty put together, not a hair out of place, make-up did, dressed nice, I'm even wearing my beautiful faux snake skin beige heels I bought for a special wedding I attended.....WTF???????

She stinks and not just of booze.

I'm snapped out of my silent reverie when she is looking straight at me and she says: So? You wanna go?

Not wanting to piss her off I decide to deflect that question and I say: I've been to the Waldorf!

She snorts: The Waldorf? It's fucking expensive at the Waldorf. Fucking cover charge.

I say: It's on Hastings too.

To everyone in the bus she yells: The fucking Waldorf is expensive! The Balmoral is better. Fucking cheap beers. Fucking shit Waldorf. Waldorf. Waldorf. She's hanging her head and shaking it back and forth like I'm such a fucking moron, who ever goes to the fucking Waldorf?

I say: It was years ago.

Then she just sits there silently. Everyone once in a while she yells out something to the entire bus. Suddenly she yells at the driver (a good 4 stops before Hastings where I imagine she is going to grab me by the hair and drag me to the Balmoral) I'M GETTING OFF! STOP THE BUS! I'M LEAVING BY THE FRONT DOOR SO HOLD ON IT TAKES ME A MINUTE.

Without so much as a backward glance, she raises her considerable bulk off the seat, freeing me from the uncomfortable position I've been forced into and walks off the bus.

OMFG. WTF? SERIOUSLY?

I am Woman

yeah, love this song

EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!

Your roots are showing you stupid bitch! Get yourself to the fucking salon and get that shit fixed!

I hate when I'm on the bus or in a queue and some bitch is standing in front of me about 6 different colours in her hair and her crown is completely gray. I mean, seriously? Come on! Spend a few bucks and get that sorted out.

You've got the wrong number

So last night around 11:30 p.m. my cell phone rings and I pick it up, "hello?" . This older chinese woman starts yelling her face off at me in what I think was mandarin.

So I'm like, ummmm I think you've dialed the wrong number.

She says: No! and hangs up.

A few minutes later, she calls me back. I say "hello?" and again she starts in on me - and believe  me, regardless of what my friend Tang says - I do NOT speak Mandarin or Cantonese. I might have an understanding of chinese people because I used to work at a chinese restaurant when I was kid and I loved every second of it, but I do not speak their language and I did not understand what she was screaming at me about. I do, however, understand Tang's mother. Mrs. Tang and I have a mutual understanding and we carry on conversations that are understood by the both of us - me speaking english, she in whatever language it is she's speaking.We can do that over the phone or face to face.

Anyway, the woman hangs up again. It's now about midnight. This goes on for 3 or 4 more calls and at one point I understand she is looking for her daughter and the number she has is my cell phone number - then she hangs up again. I think to myself: is this Mrs Tang and she can't find Tang or Tang's sister?

So I take a leap of faith and call her back out of concern. She's obviously upset and I want to find out what's going on. It's now 1:12 a.m. She's called me about 5 times so far and all I get is yelling and hang ups.

I say....hello?

She says: yeah! my daughter this is her phone ***-***-****

I say, no that's my number and I've had it for years. What is your daughter's name?

Linda! This is Linda's number (repeats the number).

I say, well ok but I don't know Linda and this is not her number.

She says: No! This is her number (repeats it again) and then hangs up.

OMFG! Now I'm getting pissed. Why does she keep hanging up? It's fucking 1:30 in the morning and she isn't going to stop calling until I sort this out. I call her back. She picks up, "hello?"

I say: Don't hang up on me again! Listen, did Linda just get this number?

"Yes"'

Ah, so it's a NEW number for Linda?

"Yes that's her new number and she gave it to me and I call it and you keep talking on it."

I'm thinking: SERIOUSLY????????????? OMFG

So I say, well maybe you've got the numbers mixed up? Maybe is 98 and not 89?

She says: Oh yes! Maybe! Maybe it's 98. I will try that, thank you. So sorry. Sorry.

I say ok, no problem, I hope you find Linda. Goodnight.

She hangs up. I didn't hear from her again.

You can't make this shit up, I tell ya, it's crazy! Why me?

The cat's in heat

Stupid people....

So WTF! i'm at work and some stupid FUCK comes into the salon and proceeds to tell me how fat and over weight my dog is, I mean really this just happened.... I told him my dog is an English Bulldog and this is how they look, the guy told me that I was crazy and he said again my dog is fat, I told him to get out... again WTF! is wrong with stupid people.

Oprah? Is that you?

So I was checking out Oprah's website and it says: Oprah wants to hear from you! Oh the temptation...I can be feuding with my neighbour, I can be a middle class family from Newark, NJ, I can be whatever Oprah wants me to be! Give me a call Oprah, we'll talk ;)

Oprah wants to hear from you!

Are you feuding with your neighbor?

Read more: http://www.oprah.com/index.html#ixzz1sX0fkMO0

Elevator Etiquette

WTF is wrong with people? When you get on the elevator, step into it, press your desired floor and then move your fucking lard ass out of the way so others can do the same!

Petro Canada

Fag: Do you know what the Petro in Petro Canada stands for?

Hag: Yes, I think it's Petroleum

Fag: Nope. It's PIERRE ELLIOT TRUDEAU rules Ottawa.

Hag: That's bullshit