Hi. Hiya.
I do not know that I am as really, really, ridiculously good-looking as the NYC monsters, though.
Also, can our party please be at a dog park? Also also, can I borrow a dog?
This morning, I woke with an extra-hearty sense of dread and foreboding. Normally, I would not pay attention (because the ennui is my dearest friend, inspiring my many poems about clowns dying), but I got to sleep in an hour longer than usual and go to a movie instead of going to work. I had no reason to feel chased by the ghosts of so many tragedies, but I was cranky-like all the same.
Then I heard about Gwyneth's cookbook and it all made sense.
Also, my sadness morphed into more of a rage, but I had already typed all those words on the subject of sadness and was (am) lazy.
Now if you will excuse me, I am going to fake my genealogy in the hopes of discovering celebrity parentage and getting this comment published as a book entitled "Emotions."
The fancypants poutineries get their curds shipped in, as far as I know. They may be delicious, but they cannot hold a candle to my favourite spot:
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1305/5178151983_b4e2794138.jpg
As far as I know, it is not normally on fire.
America celebrates only the healthiest and most well-balanced snack foods, so I cannot see it embracing something as decadent as poutine. ("Super Size Me" is Canadian, right?)
But also - it is difficult enough to get decent cheese curds outside of Quebec/Eastern Ontario, and, as a patriot, I cannot allow delicious curds to be exported to a different country without first figuring out how to get them in Toronto on a regular basis. #regionalfoodstuffsgum
At my workplace, the word "bucket" is used as some kind of sales/marketing/unicorn factory term, and any time someone says it in a meeting I am compelled to draw the lorus' bucket. (I am not a skilled enough artist to draw the lorus himself).
I need to enunciate more clearly, because when I called to put the book on special order I ended up with this:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v512/thehotel/catbook.gif
It is actually a great book. I am not just saying that because I am a 30-something lady with cats. (Cries). Maybe you would read it if you could find this edition?
http://htmlgiant.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/cat-208x300.jpg
I do not want to ruin it for anyone who has not read the book, but that cat reminded me an awful lot of the narrator in this:
http://cometellmewhatyouread.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/resized_i_am_a_cat_pic.jpg
(SPOILER ALERT! It turns out he was in a bucket the whole time. Also, the bucket was a dream)
Two things:
1. They could have saved a lot of time by doing all of their recruitment in nursing homes.
2. NUMBER FIVE! (Insert Short Circuit joke) But, for real, all the votes to #5.
I do not find it funny so much as I find it to be a further confirmation of Mans' crushworthiness.
Wait, no. I meant funny. [whistles, repositions telescope]
I either need to get new glasses, get some sleep, or both, because I read "The possibility that Glenn Beck will exit the Fox News Channel" as "The possibility that Glenn Beck will eat the Fox News Channel." In my defense, either scenario is equally plausible.
I could not read all of yesterday's posts at work without it being obvious that I was not working, what with the laughing and crying and hollering "MORE! MORE!" (If I still had my job at the Oscar factory, though, I totally could have gotten away with it.)
So I am late with the commenting, but, dag, yesterday was solid gold. I am sure there is a gif that would illustrate my sentiments more articulately, but I am not sure that I can find a picture of a baby sloth wearing a big foam hand that says "YOU'RE #1." Let's just pretend I did and that, while we appreciate the gesture, we all know that Mans is exponentially more awesome than the baby sloth, the big foam hand, or the combination of baby sloth and big foam hand.
Today's posts are off to a commandeble start, too. See what I did there? Yep.
Yes, except for the part where I am broke and will have to pay you for gas by washing many dishes. I am pretty sure that is how it works. Either that, or I become your butler and hijinx enuse.
Please come to Toronto afterward, and bring some Montreal bagels with you.
Or come to Toronto first, and bring NY bagels with you.
Either way, please come. You do not even have to bring bagels. (But it would be nice if you did).
Wait - that intersection exists in my hometown and I'm only just finding out about it now?
It's a newer subdivision, so they would have named the streets after the show came out.
Oh. Wait. It's in Orleans. [Pause while I wait for the one other Ottawa person to get it].
Nope. Not moving there.
But, dang, someone managed to sneak that paperwork by the government?
I must find this person and marry them. Because they are awesome, but also because if they can get away with that I bet they could totally make it so that I could get a grant for my great clothing line for chimps (that I just came up with now, but am already in love with more than my actual job).
I was all blue yesterday because it was the six-month anniversary of my grandpa passing away, and it was also Remebrance Day*, so every channel on TV had live coverage of the services and many of the older veterans reminded me of my grandpa. Today I was still leftover sad and, even though I hung out with several dogs, my sadness was not abated until the great Horse in the Car. My grandpa loved horses, and I would like to believe that he would also love Horse in the Car.
Anyway. The point is that Horse in the Car is great, even though I think it is most likely a pony, and also that I am sorry about your grandfather. May I suggest a repeat viewing of Horse in the Car? If you are still questioning your direction in life after that, I will give you my new piece of sage advice (because when you think of sage, you think of something someone just thought up after watching a comical video on the internets): Follow the horse in the car. That is the right direction.
* The Canadian version of Veterans Day. Also, I only just learned that remebrance is not spelled "rememberance," but it seems cruel to forget the third "e" when you are making a noun out of remembering.
I did not watch all of Thursday's shows until yesterday, so I could not read this thread until now. I would not want to spoiler alert myself (TWSS). I have also not watched last week's Bones yet, so I squinted through most of the posts here.
Anyway. For a second I was all excited because I thought Bones got moved to Wednesday, and I was going to say "Hey! Move to Canada! Our potato chips come in novel flavours and Bones is on Wednesday!"
Except it turns out I am suffering from a case of the olds (or, as I like to call them, the Gabes), and Bones did not get moved at all.
My new quandry is the fact that I did not watch Buffy when it first came out, so now I am catching up (I am only on season 5. No spoilers! Don't make me keep squinting!), but my brain cannot handle the fact that the same dude is on both shows. I keep thinking "Why is Angel a FBI agent?" or "Why is Booth so pale?" I may have issues separating TV from reality. In addition to the olds, I suffer from a case of the Abeds.
Well, dag, you beat me to it (except my story is about a mom, not a grandma. Fine, she is also a grandma. But I did not see your post, and I really do call it the meta-sweata).
My friend's mother has a sweater similar to that one. It has many smaller sweaters knitted onto it, but I do not have the courage to look closely enough to see if the smaller sweaters have tiny sweaters on them. I have named it "META-SWEATA."
Oh. Ontario, California.
Us other Ontarians are known for thinking we are the only people who exist, so my mistake is sort of understandable. (Please excuse shoveling sounds while I continue to dig myself a hole)
Dang - the Oscar was found at an airport that doesn't exist?
That's one dedicated, dimension-crossing thief.
(Ontario might think it is the best and smartest and prettiest and most popular of all the provinces, but there isn't an airport named after it. Yet. If people could get over Vancouver already and please come to Ontario's party, which consists of smog and sub-par transit, maybe there would be an Ontario airport)
Regional references ahoy!
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