I'll certainly "Take it with me"

For the past week or so I have had the song "Take it with me" by Megan Mullally stuck in my head. Now don't get me wrong, it's a solid song but for an entire week...REALLY??!?

It's now to the point where i'm actually singing aloud in order to hopefully release this song from my feeble mind.
I was caught belting out this festive tune yesterday by my landlord, whilst retrieving my mail. He is a very nice (older) polish...or possibly Czech man. He usually doesn't talk a lot but i'm sure I scared him because unbeknownst to me during my aria he was standing behind me washing the floors. It certainly scared the shit out of me when he said ( in a very strong accent) "Oh...youst like singing". Mid song "HOLY SHIT....oh....um...yup I guess so". I scurried into my apartment like a rat completely embarrassed. Let's be honest here folks...I do like to sing but my voice (during a tune) sounds more like Vincent Price's than it does Megan Mullally's.

I honestly would love to have a good singing voice..and just not think like I do once i've have a few wobbly pops.

I doesn't make sense to me, why do songs get "stuck in our heads"? There have been many a song that I have been unable to remove from my cerebellum. I remember a number of Christmases ago "Feliz Navidad" took up residence there for the entire Christmas season. I'm sure it didn't help that I once was a valued employee of Northern Reflections and that store played "Feliz Navidad"...from October 29th right up until close on December 24th. Jesus!! Enough already!

I guess it's how it's meant to be. My voice will always be like my dress sense...it will always leave something to be desired. I will also have to accept the fact that I will forever be caught by some custodian...or small child that walks into a Madison Square Garden concert that's going on it my head.

I will give you some advice based on my experiences, for all you wanna be singers out there...be proud...and if completely embarrassed after being caught...do what I do...pretend your retarded.

Thanks for reading my useless and random thoughts. I sometimes scare myself!

Drunk by yourself.

I am currently enjoying some teen time....a moment of time that i take for myself.
This may for some of you, involve some sweatpants, chips and a good movie.
I myself enjoy taking a day off, watching some TV (either Global or CTV since those are the only channels I get with my rabbit ears), and thoroughly enjoy a nice glass (or four) of red wine.

Tonight I figured why not, why not drink by myself.
I don't feel like venturing out of my humble abode. I am "hunkered down" in my lulu lemon sweats (how chic), my multitude of pillows and as mentioned before my wine.

I never realized how getting drunk by yourself can be a grand old time. I can have as many glasses as I want without the bar tender giving me a certain look (probably thinking "fuckin alcoholic") , I can eat however,whatever and whenever I want. I can mow a big bac in the typical drunk fashion of mashing it into your gob. Think of it...you too can achieve this goal and as an added bonus of drinking by yourself you don't have to worry about embarrassing yourself or your peers...

I am currently enjoying a cheap....wait...less expensive bottle, I mean glass of Yellow Tail. I am big fan of their merlot, but i'm not impartial to the shiraz every now and again.

As you can tell, it has taken me a long while to actually write this blog. It has been a great time waster...it has involved me using the washroom twice, pouring another glass of wine and possibly going to have a smoke that I lit at the wrong end because i'm intoxicated.

This is mint....I can't wait to do this again.
Thank you for taking the time to enjoy with me.
Later...i'm most likely going to go and try to light another smoke...then pass out.
I LOVE my life!!

The Chicago Fun Times

I've just return from the preverbial windy city. The town lives up to it's name. It was really nice when we were down there but windy as all hell. We walked many miles, saw many a site and had many a good time.

I celebrated my birthday in a local hole in the wall. The blues in this city is fantaz-great. The bar..."The Underground Wonder Bar" is a mish-mash of local, homeless, tourist and nouveau bohemian people. It's now possibly my favorite bar. They have the local beer, Heileman's Old Style, that tastes like crap however once you have a few you don't really notice the old feet taste.

We went in the first night we were there and were welcomed by Darlene the bar keep, who didn't really care where we sat, didn't give a shite what we orderd...as long as she got a picture of my travelling Gnome "Biney" in her shirt...she didn't care what the hell we were up to.

After the hangover subsided the next morning we went walking all over the city. Mainly stuck to the north side but once we ventured down to the the south side...we met the Chi-Town Crazies. There were homeless people there but I figured that they were the same as the homeless/psych patients in my city.

I was wrong.

I was sitting enjoying a well deserved cigarette, when an obviously homeless male walked passed us. We wouldn't of really noticed he was even there until he bitch slapped a woman on her shoulder. She didn't even react. My friend and I were completely gobbsmacked. We looked at eachother then back at this man-he then gave us the double handed finger...waving them @ us.

Wow...okay that was nuts but funny...I thought that is the worst we would get...again

I was wrong.

Not ten seconds later we noticed another middle aged man, obviously homeless with an impish grin, dancing randomly infront of a store. He started with, what I call half assed jazz hands. Continued with jazz hands mixed with drunken scottish dancing then he proceeded to molest himself. Of course at this point in the dance I tried to caputre this fellow on camera. Much to my shagrin he moved on, walking up the road. Almost done my smoke, I put my camera back in my bag and turned around. I now find myself face to face with the crazy dance psycho. My jaw hung open as my friend and I observed him pick a flower...smell the flower...then smell me...then try to put the flower in my tank top strap. At this point I jumped up, terrifying many pedestrians, and screamed at him "DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME". We started to walk away and he remained half hunched over in the flower garden we were sitting in front of.

Needless to say we would not sit anyway for longer than 30 seconds for the rest of the trip.

I do have to say, that despite are crazy experiences listed above the people from Chicago are some of the friendliest people that I have ever met in a big city. They are funny and clearly take pride in there city.

I could totally live there.

Be sure to see the Navy Pier, the Downtown, The many museums and please the city by water (either water taxi or a tour boat).

Hopefully you have enjoyed my little blog.

Overdose in the arena, with the hockey stick..

I am not one to judge, or even be pissed off with what people do in their everyday lives. It is not my life, it is theirs and they can do what the hell they want with it. That being said, when one's daily life choices affect me (ie-make me have to work my ass off) then I will have no issue in becoming highly irritated with that specific individual.

I have to deal with the general public's life choices on a semi-regular basis, which (as I said above) doesn't usually bother me.

On a recent night I had to deal with a certain individual that had "over-indulged" on specific narcotic. I'm sure it was an accident and this person wasn't trying to get high...or intentionally hurt his or herself...no...just an absent minded little lamb, that took one to many pills... ...NOT!

This tard takes WAY-THE-HELL to many pills...or heroin (whoops) and decides to go and take in some of the local talent at the nearby hockey rink. So sometime during the first or second period, a hockey player notices "the drunk weirdo" at the back of the hockey rink "passed out".

Well passed out aint exactly the term but for arguments sake we will use that word.

"Drunk weirdo" had decided to conviently pass out and stop breathing in the furthest corner of the rink, while sporting the most articles of clothing a human being can possibly wear.

In my line of work...obivously i'll start by helping Chris* breathe while my counterparts cut off four pounds of clothes off so we can actually move Chirs* to a more suitable area of the arena.

We move Chris* and my partner is able to give him a drug (narcan) that usually helps in these hairy situations and almost completely revereses the effects of the Heroin, or oxycodone (which we have established is most likely taken of Chris'* own volition).

It is very interesting to see this drug work...it takes someone who either has intentionally or unintentionally overdosed on a narcotic from a totally unconcious-not breathing-state to a wide, awake, alert...almost enthusiastic state. It is really cool to see.

Long story short once the narcan takes affect, Chris* the hockey fan awakes only to find a ton of people gaulking. Chris* sits up, spits out some gum (that evidently Chris* was chewing during his stroll to the rink)...and says...."I didn't take anything I swear"...(insert eye-roll here).

After helping Chris* i'm truly amazed at how lucky I am to be able to help the public, how truly blessed I am to see people at their worst and help them to become their best and how truly NAIVE I am that I didn't even realise I was kneeling in piss and some other of Chris' bodily fludis the entire time.

Chris* and his crazy highjinks. I love my job!

Driving across Canada anyone?

Well one of my good amigos has asked me to be in his wedding party...on the guys side, next year in july. I am totally pumped and cannot wait...i'm even exited about wearing the damn groomsman dress that apparently is needed in such a custom.
With that being said, I started thinking about ways in which I could get my bad self and some friends to Vernon B.C for a frugal price. Flying...okay it's quick but sheeet it's tres cher. I don't really want to pay $750 bucks for only a flight,(....I might pay it for an all inclusive where I can indulge in the public drunkeness that sometimes is my life!) I thought of the ol' reliable train system but when looking into that I found apparently that nostagia is also expensive.
So thus far unless I take my personal vehicle (which won't make it outside of ontario) I think the RV is the way i'll be slummin' it to B.C.

I became excited about this prospect....shoot: see Canada, be able to drink while someone else is driving, don't have to stop of at hostel after hostel which no doubt are seedy at best in certain parts of our home and native land, did I mention the drinking possibly through the boring parts of Alberta and my ability to share it with friends. It sounded pretty exciting.

Realize how I used the term "it sounded"...after I had some time to process our adventure I began to think, with whom would I travel? Obviously my good friend the austrailian...(ha) he is a pretty cool travel partner.....hmmn....I started to think I could bring my friends...but none of them are included in the wedding. I began to serisouly realize what I had suggested.
I learned rather quickly when travelling through europe that people you don't know are gross to sleep beside....one of my friends put it best "I don't want to wake up and find some strangers GIANT back in my face". Aint it the truth. I began to think of all the weird shit that people do...ie-their bathroom routine (ew.....even that word grosses me out), their driving skills, the ability to keep my 5 year old-esque attention span while driving in said parts of Alberta.

So again after some realizations I decided that, that idea is out....I think unless I can bring my good friends...I will end up probably driving across Canada, in my car...which hopefully will work it's way across Canada. I can share a few laughs with my friend, share gas, tent and be able to happily deal with his clean, small and friendly back in my face.

Time off!

I have decided that some of the best times in life (although small and some may consider "non-best time") is the time when you first wake up after a solid,enjoyable sleep (drool and sleep lines included) and the day before a day off work. Sure everyone enjoys the actual day off work..sure...however the day before your upcoming day off, your still at work daydreaming of the glorious adventures that await you on said day and spare time! Ohh isn't it exciting.

I always will think about cleaning my appartment, and for some reason I have notions of grandure. I think...okay clean: bathroom and bedroom, frame that poster i've been meaning to for two months, take the dog for a walk, paint the roof, have a bath, feed the goat and possibly install an indoor pool!

Does anyone else think like this? Or are people out there in bloggersville, Idaho that are actually rational, in realizing there limitations of their days off.

What will almost always happen are either some or all of the following: sleep until between 2pm and 3pm (with my lazy ass dog...who enjoys sleep possibly more than I do), I awake and say in bed for the next 15 minutes, have coffe...watch TV and celebrate my not having to work!

A little battered and bruised!

Well i'm back to the land of rain, wet snow and poor drivers.

I just spent about four days in the lovely B.C interior...Kamloops is a sight to be held. The city itself isn't touristy, not blown out of proportion but a humble town with stellar ski hills.



As I stated in my previous blog I was going to try my hand at snowboarding. I'd never done it before and figured since it's what they do in B.C ...i'd try to resemble one of the locals and give it the old college try.

As I had never even set foot on a snowbord, I was informed that I should know which foot I should place "first" on the board (IE your guide foot). Since I had obviously know idea, the lad at the hill decided to help me choose my "guide foot" and gave me a good solid shove. Apparently whatever foot you place behind or infront of you after your violent shove is you "stable" foot.
So, now that I had my stable left foot firmly in place on my board...I was chairlift bound.

The chiair lift was another adventure. Thankfully the lift attendants will slow the lift down for you (or completely stop it in my case) so that the rider is able to comfortably mount said chairlift.
At the top they also slow it down, but in my case it was too late and I was already a crumpled mass underneath the chair lift.

I am now at the top of the "baby" hill. Baby hill was defiantely an understament and for those of you who have skiied at Chicopee will understand that an ontario baby hill and a British Columbian baby hill are utterly different.

The first time I went down, I crawled the first half, and fell the second half. It took my approximately 1 1/2 hours to traverse the hill.

Regardless it was a pretty damn good sport. The chairlift eventually was conquered...however the signs by the chairlift were not. I ran into them knocking them over every single time I dismounted the lift.

That is all of my shinnanegans for now.....
later peeps, keep it real!