It's Black Friday in the US, which means that it's a time where people go a little crazy and maybe get a bit stressed out. Why not take a load off and learn some new vocabulary:
Snackle- verb. (Snak-el) To settle for a snack you don't really want but you're too lazy to get anything else. I snackle on bananas a lot because they're easy and involve no cooking.
Santa-ist- noun. (San-tah-isst) A person who is overly enthusiastic about Christmas. These people often have overly elaborate decorations and wear ugly Christmas sweaters non-ironically.
Waking up on the wrong side of the dick- verb. A crankier version of waking up on the wrong side of the bed.
Amazish- adjective. (ah-maiz-ish) When something makes you really happy but you don't really care all that much- eg. When you hear that they're doing a reboot of a cartoon you loved as a kid...it's great...but it doesn't really affect you.
White Girl Blogging
Friday 25 November 2016
Friday 28 October 2016
More Shit I shouldn't have to explain
Ok, so there are some basic life rules that some people just never got the message about. If you are guilty of any of the following, please a) stop it and b) talk yourself out of the gene pool.
Stopping in the middle of a sidewalk or hallway will get you shoved out of the way. Move to the side if you've stopped to check your phone, you're lost or you just want to look at something. If you are stationary in a place that is obstructive, do not be surprised when someone gets upset or, like me, hip checks your stupid ass out of the way.
Not everyone works Monday to Friday 9-5 or works night shifts etc, Therefore, when you're out in public or at home having a loud and raucous time, there is a good chance you're ruining someone's rest. This is the basic principle of not being a dick. Not everyone lives your lifestyle, so don't impose yours on others. If a neighbour asks you to turn your music down at 9pm, they aren't necessarily just a jerk, maybe they work the graveyard shift and you're ruining their sleep.
Being a parent doesn't make you a better or worse person than other people. Just because you have kids and I don't, do not act like you're better than me. The world is overpopulated and all you did was make it worse. On the flip side, just because I didn't have kids, I am not better or smarter than you and if I start acting like you are dumb for having kids, smack me.
Driver picks the music. As the shotgun position passenger, you are the driver's assistant, you do not make the choices. If you are sitting in the backseat, you have no say in anything at all- not even bathroom stops. You sit there and shut up and help the driver.
Do not post all of your issues on social networking. Nobody needs to know every intimate detail of your life. If I needed to know that much detail about you, we'd hang out more rather than be passing acquaintances on a website. Picture, general stuff etc is fine, but I really don't care that you just woke up, what kind of sandwich you had or every relationship detail between you and the latest love of your life for the month.
Low crotch jeans make you look stupid. I don't care if they are fashionable, they make you look like you crapped in your pants. I will not take anything you say seriously while I'm busy wondering if you don't know how to dress yourself or if you've suffered a sporadic rectal prolapse and that's why your crotch is between your knees.
Left-wing people hate being associated with SJW's and feminazis just like right-wing people hate being associated with the Klan and Trump. Extremists of anything give the rest a bad name. Not all lefties are pothead hippies who think everything is offensive and think everyone should live on a commune. Not all right wingers are racist homophobes who sleep with their sisters and have 4 teeth. Stop assuming everyone is a worst case scenario.
Stopping in the middle of a sidewalk or hallway will get you shoved out of the way. Move to the side if you've stopped to check your phone, you're lost or you just want to look at something. If you are stationary in a place that is obstructive, do not be surprised when someone gets upset or, like me, hip checks your stupid ass out of the way.
Not everyone works Monday to Friday 9-5 or works night shifts etc, Therefore, when you're out in public or at home having a loud and raucous time, there is a good chance you're ruining someone's rest. This is the basic principle of not being a dick. Not everyone lives your lifestyle, so don't impose yours on others. If a neighbour asks you to turn your music down at 9pm, they aren't necessarily just a jerk, maybe they work the graveyard shift and you're ruining their sleep.
Being a parent doesn't make you a better or worse person than other people. Just because you have kids and I don't, do not act like you're better than me. The world is overpopulated and all you did was make it worse. On the flip side, just because I didn't have kids, I am not better or smarter than you and if I start acting like you are dumb for having kids, smack me.
Driver picks the music. As the shotgun position passenger, you are the driver's assistant, you do not make the choices. If you are sitting in the backseat, you have no say in anything at all- not even bathroom stops. You sit there and shut up and help the driver.
Do not post all of your issues on social networking. Nobody needs to know every intimate detail of your life. If I needed to know that much detail about you, we'd hang out more rather than be passing acquaintances on a website. Picture, general stuff etc is fine, but I really don't care that you just woke up, what kind of sandwich you had or every relationship detail between you and the latest love of your life for the month.
Low crotch jeans make you look stupid. I don't care if they are fashionable, they make you look like you crapped in your pants. I will not take anything you say seriously while I'm busy wondering if you don't know how to dress yourself or if you've suffered a sporadic rectal prolapse and that's why your crotch is between your knees.
Left-wing people hate being associated with SJW's and feminazis just like right-wing people hate being associated with the Klan and Trump. Extremists of anything give the rest a bad name. Not all lefties are pothead hippies who think everything is offensive and think everyone should live on a commune. Not all right wingers are racist homophobes who sleep with their sisters and have 4 teeth. Stop assuming everyone is a worst case scenario.
Friday 14 October 2016
I'm so tired of being tired
"Chronic fatigue syndrome is a complicated disorder characterized by extreme fatigue that can't be explained by any underlying medical condition. The fatigue may worsen with physical or mental activity, but doesn't improve with rest." - Mayo Clinic
Ok, now try explaining it to people. Here are 99% of the replies:
"Maybe you should exercise more"
"You're lucky, I can never sleep"
"Sounds kinda lazy"
"Have a coffee"
Yeah....no.
Do you know that feeling you get when you are deeply, bone tired? The kind of fatigue you feel after you've been swimming all day, in the sun, had a few cold beers and your body just wants to crawl into bed and sleep for 18 hours? Now imagine feeling that way all the time. I mean ALL THE TIME. It doesn't matter if you just worked out for 3 hours or if you just woke up in the morning after a good 8 hour rest...you still feel that tired.
That energized feeling of a good night's sleep or an invigorating workout? That never happens. EVER.
You want to read that book? Good luck, within half an hour you'll be snoozing. You want to marathon a show? Why bother, one episode in and you'll be zonked out. You wanna hit that workout? Ok, but your body and brain are gonna fight you the entire time and you don't get that energized feeling afterwards.
I developed CFS after a very nasty bout of mono in my early 20's, it lasted nearly a year, I was hospitalized with multiple internal infections (kidney, liver, stomach etc) and nearly lost my spleen to a rupture. Most people think of mono as the 'nap' illness that makes you sleepy for a few weeks; not knowing it can be very serious and have permanent effects. As one person put it 'damn, you didn't get mono, you got stereo"
It's been over 10 years, and trust me, I've tried it all. Caffeine, weight loss, sleep aids, naturopathy, red bull all day, sleep timers, exercise, prayer...I've tried. I find I get a lot of the same reactions to be chronically fatigued as to depression...people have had a peripheral experience with the feeling (sadness, tiredness etc), so they feel the need to offer their own 'helpful' suggestions as though they 'get it'. Would you comfort a suicidal person by telling them to 'cheer up'? No, because the problem obviously runs deeper than you understand. So the next person to tell me to go to bed early, exercise or have a coffee is going to get a beating...after my nap.
Don't get me wrong, I know it can be hard to know what to say when someone tells you that they have a condition, a problem or something of the sort- your first instinct when presented a problem is to think of a solution...but I urge you to refrain- just saying 'dude, that sucks' is preferred. Chances are the reason I'm telling you about the issue is to offer a reason as to why I didn't attend something, am leaving early or fell asleep on your shoe at a party before the first beer; so I'm not expecting you to have a solution- just give me a pillow and keep it down.
"She loves her sleep"...ya, and diabetics sure 'love' their insulin....fish 'love' to be in water instead of air..."she loves not being stabbed by a murderer". Yes, the fact that I have to sleep a lot means that I miss out on things, but I was lame when I was an insomniac, so I feel kinda even on that end of things.
Let's also face it, getting older certainly isn't helping either. I remember when a hangover was a minor inconvenience for an hour until I could get my hands on some greasy food- now, a hangover lasts 4 weeks and requires divine intervention to stop the pain. The impending Canadian winter doesn't bode well either; the long dark nights, the abhorrently cold weather, the long work days as the year winds down, all of these things make a snooze on the couch sound even better than normal. I guess what I'm saying is that I need a fountain of youth and to live in the tropics.
Until that happens (lookin' at you lottery tickets), I just have to cope with being tired of being tired. I keep hoping that in one of my many dreams, my subconscious will think of the cure (by which I don't mean I wish I could dream of Robert Smith in his eyeliner).
Rant over. Nap time.
Ok, now try explaining it to people. Here are 99% of the replies:
"Maybe you should exercise more"
"You're lucky, I can never sleep"
"Sounds kinda lazy"
"Have a coffee"
Yeah....no.
Do you know that feeling you get when you are deeply, bone tired? The kind of fatigue you feel after you've been swimming all day, in the sun, had a few cold beers and your body just wants to crawl into bed and sleep for 18 hours? Now imagine feeling that way all the time. I mean ALL THE TIME. It doesn't matter if you just worked out for 3 hours or if you just woke up in the morning after a good 8 hour rest...you still feel that tired.
That energized feeling of a good night's sleep or an invigorating workout? That never happens. EVER.
You want to read that book? Good luck, within half an hour you'll be snoozing. You want to marathon a show? Why bother, one episode in and you'll be zonked out. You wanna hit that workout? Ok, but your body and brain are gonna fight you the entire time and you don't get that energized feeling afterwards.
I developed CFS after a very nasty bout of mono in my early 20's, it lasted nearly a year, I was hospitalized with multiple internal infections (kidney, liver, stomach etc) and nearly lost my spleen to a rupture. Most people think of mono as the 'nap' illness that makes you sleepy for a few weeks; not knowing it can be very serious and have permanent effects. As one person put it 'damn, you didn't get mono, you got stereo"
It's been over 10 years, and trust me, I've tried it all. Caffeine, weight loss, sleep aids, naturopathy, red bull all day, sleep timers, exercise, prayer...I've tried. I find I get a lot of the same reactions to be chronically fatigued as to depression...people have had a peripheral experience with the feeling (sadness, tiredness etc), so they feel the need to offer their own 'helpful' suggestions as though they 'get it'. Would you comfort a suicidal person by telling them to 'cheer up'? No, because the problem obviously runs deeper than you understand. So the next person to tell me to go to bed early, exercise or have a coffee is going to get a beating...after my nap.
Don't get me wrong, I know it can be hard to know what to say when someone tells you that they have a condition, a problem or something of the sort- your first instinct when presented a problem is to think of a solution...but I urge you to refrain- just saying 'dude, that sucks' is preferred. Chances are the reason I'm telling you about the issue is to offer a reason as to why I didn't attend something, am leaving early or fell asleep on your shoe at a party before the first beer; so I'm not expecting you to have a solution- just give me a pillow and keep it down.
"She loves her sleep"...ya, and diabetics sure 'love' their insulin....fish 'love' to be in water instead of air..."she loves not being stabbed by a murderer". Yes, the fact that I have to sleep a lot means that I miss out on things, but I was lame when I was an insomniac, so I feel kinda even on that end of things.
Let's also face it, getting older certainly isn't helping either. I remember when a hangover was a minor inconvenience for an hour until I could get my hands on some greasy food- now, a hangover lasts 4 weeks and requires divine intervention to stop the pain. The impending Canadian winter doesn't bode well either; the long dark nights, the abhorrently cold weather, the long work days as the year winds down, all of these things make a snooze on the couch sound even better than normal. I guess what I'm saying is that I need a fountain of youth and to live in the tropics.
Until that happens (lookin' at you lottery tickets), I just have to cope with being tired of being tired. I keep hoping that in one of my many dreams, my subconscious will think of the cure (by which I don't mean I wish I could dream of Robert Smith in his eyeliner).
Rant over. Nap time.
Wednesday 21 September 2016
A Geek's Guide to Being a Leafs Fan
A new life form has been born...the hockey geek.
To help simplify for my fellow geeks who are eyeing the Leafs franchise with nervous interest, here is a little help in understanding the current state of affairs.
And then it happened....
The Geek's Guide to Being a Leafs Fan
This story beings a long long time ago in a galaxy far far away...1917 Toronto. The Toronto Arenas are born into a newly forming league called the National Hockey Association. Due to an evil presence in the galaxy known as Eddie Livingstone, the team and the league underwent many changes, becoming the Toronto St.Pat's of the NHL from 1919-1927 and finally, the Toronto Maple Leafs of the NHL in 1927. A franchise is born.
We join the story in modern day. A New Hope.
It has been a dark age for the Toronto Maple Leafs, having only made the playoffs once since 2003-2004 season in which we were brutally knocked out by Boston. We have not won a Stanley Cup since 1967 and our heroes have scattered. Without a strong leader (captain) to rally around, the team finished last in the league in 2016 and it seemed that our Leafs were doomed to fall to the evil lord...Gary Bettman.
Gary Bettman, a man who looks like Gollum and the Count from Sesame Street with the voice of a hideous cross between John McCain and Fran Drescher. Bent on the destruction of the Canadian hockey market, evil Lord Bettman has been corrupted by the American dollar and builds new franchises in places that hockey cannot live while leaving formerly blooming hockey hotbeds in Canada to wither and fail. Choking the life out of the Quebec expansion bid, adding to his desert arsenal with another laughable non-hockey city team, Lord Bettman sits atop his hockey throne blowing his nose with a Canadian flag and punching Canadian geese.
In the shadow of the evil Lord Bettman sits an old master, his glory days behind him but with much wisdom to share. Master Shanahan looked upon the team with hope and has been meticulously forming and developing his Shanaplan to bring this team back to glory. He called upon an old friend who he knew he could still trust and Obi Wan...I mean Mike Babcock, came to Toronto to coach. Completing his Jedi council, Master Shanahan snagged his former master Mace Wind-Lou Lamoriello to be GM. With a strong council united with purpose, they sought a chosen one who would be their beacon of light and lead the team into its new age.
And then it happened....
"With the number one pick overall in the 2016 NHL Entry Draft, the Toronto Maple Leafs are proud to select, from the ZSC Lions of the Swiss National League A, forward Auston Matthews."
I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in...joy.
Matthews is one of the most highly touted prospects in recent memory- he's young, he's good and he's from Arizona whose desert landscape could, for all intents and purposes, be Tattooine. He will need time and a lot of training by the council, (I'm picturing Shanahan on Mattthews' back "Do or do not, there is no try") . As we look to our new chosen one to lead our team to victory over evil Lord Bettman and to reclaim glory for Toronto and Canada alike. he cannot do it alone. Together, with the roguish puck smuggler William Nylander and giant hard-to-understand Freddy Andersen, and the slight ewok-ish Nazem Kadri, this team stands to become more powerful than you could possibly imagine.
Unfortunately, at the moment, we're still in Episode 4; we need to be patient to get to the big finale. I guess the original blowing up of the Death Star would be equivalent to making the playoffs again. If you're looking for instant gratification and a Stanley Cup this season, you're lookin' in Alderaan places. (*badum bum*)
So you see, geeks and sportos aren't that different afterall; we're all fans at the end of that day. There are good guys and bad guys, there are plot twists and turns and interesting characters. The NHL has orcs (Zdeno Chara), long bearded wizards (Joe Thornton), house elves (Brian Gionta) and a lot of pale Swedish guys who look like they could be Data-ish looking androids. So grab a seat, let's watch a game together and see how this one ends.
Friday 2 September 2016
A Woman's Rant part 2- Bras
I still remember being about 10 years old and wishing I had big boobs so that the boys would notice me. Man, what a stupid kid.
Much like buying pants, buying a bra is easy for a lucky portion of women; the rest of us are simply doomed to suffer. Even the name bra...short for brazier...sounds uncomfortable. The only enjoyable part of a bra is how good it feels when you take it off at the end of the day.
Bras have been around for quite some time, over a hundred years in fact, so why are most of them still akin to medieval torture devices? I'm sure if you told a man that he was expected to wear underwear that has metal wire in it to support his testicles, he would not fancy the idea of putting metal near his sensitive skin. However, as women, the bearers of breasts, those mixed blessings that give nourishment to the young and provide entertainment for the slightly older are our closest comparison. They are composed of flesh, blood, ducts, fat...namely, human material...however their natural state is deemed unappealing and they must be covered and restrained in bras. Functionally there is some benefit...if you're over an A cup and have ever tried to run while bra-less, many risk injury to themselves and passersby. So, every morning (unless it's a lazy Sunday), we lock and load our girls into the bra for hours of wear.
Bras come in many shapes and sizes, which is probably why the vast majority of us wear the wrong size. We get measured for our first bra in high school and the first post-breast feeding bra after childbirth and that's about the only times we bother to ensure we are still the same size. A bad bra is like having a self-inflicted wound that you willingly re-open every day. The bra is meant to lift and support, so a bad bra does the opposite- it weighs you down and puts strain on all the wrong spots. Thanks to my frontage, I still have massive back, neck and shoulder problems from years of carrying the weight incorrectly because La Senza hasn't got a clue how to make a real bra. If you pay less than $50 for a bra, you may as well just go without and dislocate your shoulder preemptively. Sure, many of them look cute, sexy etc...but 99% of them should be worn for an hour tops before you're actually doing harm to your body. This is all assuming that you are among the proportion of women who need to wear a bra because they have breasts that are too big to go bra-less- which is <10% on average worldwide.
So since only <10% of women could consider wearing clothing without having to wear a bra underneath, can some explain to me why all fashion now makes it impossible to wear bras with the outfits? I've previously described the most recent fashion trend as 'waifchella', which means that it all looks like it belongs at Coachella and would only suit women of waif sizing (aka half a toothpick). This style trend also includes a lot of cut out tops, low cut, backless, super tight etc clothing. None of this clothing actually accounts for any type of bra or breast support under the clothing. Therefore, they are marketing 90% of clothing to a maximum audience of 10%....and people wonder why we have body issues.
However, if you're like me and you have a plumage that needs one of these bra contraptions, I cannot recommend a proper bra any more highly. Find yourself a real boutique, not La Senza (La Crapza), not Victoria's Secret (whose secret is that they make terrible bras) and get yourself properly fitted. Any professional couturier will tell you that those chains mentioned above do not measure you properly- they will simply give you whatever size they want to sell you, not what fits you. A well-made, well-fitting bra and change your life. It will make you look 10 pounds thinner and 5 years younger. You will stand up straighter, you will feel less pain in your shoulder and back and you'll notice how clothing fits better.
So ladies, take care of your girls, because the bra may never be a girl's best friend, but we can at least try to make sure they aren't our worst enemy.
Much like buying pants, buying a bra is easy for a lucky portion of women; the rest of us are simply doomed to suffer. Even the name bra...short for brazier...sounds uncomfortable. The only enjoyable part of a bra is how good it feels when you take it off at the end of the day.
Bras have been around for quite some time, over a hundred years in fact, so why are most of them still akin to medieval torture devices? I'm sure if you told a man that he was expected to wear underwear that has metal wire in it to support his testicles, he would not fancy the idea of putting metal near his sensitive skin. However, as women, the bearers of breasts, those mixed blessings that give nourishment to the young and provide entertainment for the slightly older are our closest comparison. They are composed of flesh, blood, ducts, fat...namely, human material...however their natural state is deemed unappealing and they must be covered and restrained in bras. Functionally there is some benefit...if you're over an A cup and have ever tried to run while bra-less, many risk injury to themselves and passersby. So, every morning (unless it's a lazy Sunday), we lock and load our girls into the bra for hours of wear.
Bras come in many shapes and sizes, which is probably why the vast majority of us wear the wrong size. We get measured for our first bra in high school and the first post-breast feeding bra after childbirth and that's about the only times we bother to ensure we are still the same size. A bad bra is like having a self-inflicted wound that you willingly re-open every day. The bra is meant to lift and support, so a bad bra does the opposite- it weighs you down and puts strain on all the wrong spots. Thanks to my frontage, I still have massive back, neck and shoulder problems from years of carrying the weight incorrectly because La Senza hasn't got a clue how to make a real bra. If you pay less than $50 for a bra, you may as well just go without and dislocate your shoulder preemptively. Sure, many of them look cute, sexy etc...but 99% of them should be worn for an hour tops before you're actually doing harm to your body. This is all assuming that you are among the proportion of women who need to wear a bra because they have breasts that are too big to go bra-less- which is <10% on average worldwide.
So since only <10% of women could consider wearing clothing without having to wear a bra underneath, can some explain to me why all fashion now makes it impossible to wear bras with the outfits? I've previously described the most recent fashion trend as 'waifchella', which means that it all looks like it belongs at Coachella and would only suit women of waif sizing (aka half a toothpick). This style trend also includes a lot of cut out tops, low cut, backless, super tight etc clothing. None of this clothing actually accounts for any type of bra or breast support under the clothing. Therefore, they are marketing 90% of clothing to a maximum audience of 10%....and people wonder why we have body issues.
However, if you're like me and you have a plumage that needs one of these bra contraptions, I cannot recommend a proper bra any more highly. Find yourself a real boutique, not La Senza (La Crapza), not Victoria's Secret (whose secret is that they make terrible bras) and get yourself properly fitted. Any professional couturier will tell you that those chains mentioned above do not measure you properly- they will simply give you whatever size they want to sell you, not what fits you. A well-made, well-fitting bra and change your life. It will make you look 10 pounds thinner and 5 years younger. You will stand up straighter, you will feel less pain in your shoulder and back and you'll notice how clothing fits better.
So ladies, take care of your girls, because the bra may never be a girl's best friend, but we can at least try to make sure they aren't our worst enemy.
Wednesday 20 July 2016
May I Have a Few Words
As the OED will still not take my calls, here are the latest contributions I've made to the slow death of the English language:
Affectionitis- noun. (ah-fek-shun-eye-tiss) a condition whereby people are scared of any human affection. They recoil when hugged and act like you're trying to kill them if you give them a kiss.
Blabberghasted- adj. (blah-burr-gast-ed). When you're simply shocked at just how much someone else talks without shutting up.
Bragestif- noun (brah-zhest-teef). The crumbs you find in your boobs after eating, especially something flaky, that you snack on when the meal is done and you're still sitting down.
Debrain- verb (Dee-brayn). A reflexive verb for when you have mentally checked out and/or stepped off the train of thought. Eg. "I would love to help you solve your problem but I've debrained for the day and am of no use"
Affectionitis- noun. (ah-fek-shun-eye-tiss) a condition whereby people are scared of any human affection. They recoil when hugged and act like you're trying to kill them if you give them a kiss.
Blabberghasted- adj. (blah-burr-gast-ed). When you're simply shocked at just how much someone else talks without shutting up.
Bragestif- noun (brah-zhest-teef). The crumbs you find in your boobs after eating, especially something flaky, that you snack on when the meal is done and you're still sitting down.
Debrain- verb (Dee-brayn). A reflexive verb for when you have mentally checked out and/or stepped off the train of thought. Eg. "I would love to help you solve your problem but I've debrained for the day and am of no use"
Tuesday 21 June 2016
Sayonara Strombo
The CBC has made some seriously questionable moves in the past few years in order to try to maintain its relevance and budget in a quickly evolving media world. Some examples include the slashing of thousands of jobs, allowing the iconic Hockey Night in Canada theme song to be bought by another station, hiding their blatant knowledge of Ghomeshi's workplace harassment...and trying to revamp Hockey Night in Canada for a new, younger audience.
The revamp of HNIC consisted of a change of music, stage, personalities and technology, it was a full overhaul from the low-key tradition of the show which boasted a crazy old man in flamboyant suits yelling for 15 minutes about icing rules and anti-Russian sentiments. The old Hockey Hotstove was so boring it would cause comatose patients to wake up just to change the channel. Unfortunately, the all-new was just that, all new. It was like taking an 80 year old woman and putting her in hot pants and heels trying to make her sing Nikki Minaj and Beyoncé. It's fine to update the classic things, but let's not overdo it. Visually, the revamp was as garish as a cougar with a neon sign. One of their main new show pieces was Canadian mini-celebrity George Strombolopolous (who we will henceforth call Strombo for obvious reasons). Strombo was well-known to most Canadians, especially those in the 25-45 age range, the CBC new target audience.
Strombo started out on Canadian TV as a MuchMusic VJ; for those of you under 25 a VJ was a host on a music channel who talked about music and music videos...before YouTube made this possible for everyone to do. He was handsome and knowledgeable, he hosted the Punk Show and seemed to have a cool edgy vibe that resonated with teens and young adults. He was given his own radio show, another dead media form, but "The Strombo Show" prospered; showing he was more than a pretty Greek face and had charisma and charm as well as well-rounded knowledge of the Canadian, American and international music scenes. He gained notoriety for this interviewing skills, reputable members of the music scene would actually seek out his show as he was intelligent and knowledgeable. This lead to him being showcased back on television on 'The Hour", a late night talk show. This was not a Leno or Letterman type show, it played more to his interviewing skills and was geared more towards his 'hip' vibe, with his gelled hair and skinny jeans, he was still aimed at the younger viewers in an attempt to get them interested in the world around them. This allowed Strombo to extend his influence beyond the music scene and into pop culture, politics, current events etc. His continued success on "The Hour" caused him to be brought south of the border to CNN, where they gave him a similar type of show, thinking that Americans would take to his hip youthful style that CNN vets like Larry King weren't as steeped in. Unfortunately, although his show was (in my opinion) very well done and very intelligent, Americans just did not welcome the tight-trousered canuck into their hearts. His stint on CNN ended after one year's brief run and he came back to Canada.
The CBC welcomed him back and excitedly offered him the hosting job of the iconic and beloved, but rating slumped HNIC. A hip new host was believed to be exactly what was needed to get Canadians back on CBC for Saturday nights and through the far too long playoff season.
They were so wrong.
Strombo is a media man, he is intelligent, he is witty and charismatic. He is NOT a hockey guy. He has never played even semi-pro, he has never coached, he has not spent time as a sportscaster, sports journalist or, judging from his conversations, really watched many games. He is also a terrible actor (see his comedy hosting on Just For Laughs). He cannot pretend to be a hockey guy convincingly, often coming off as well-suited for a hockey conversation as Donald Trump would be for a talk on foreign policy. If there is one thing Canadians take seriously, it's hockey. The average Canadian hockey fan could write you an essay on most topics without so much as glancing at Google. They know a true fan when they see one, and they can spot a fish out of water. Strombo just never fit in. As boring as the Hotstove was, those guys knew their hockey and provided insight, analysis and ideas that fans who are loyal enough to not change channels during intermissions look for. It's like any show that changes hosts- you can't just bring in the new guy because your network brass think he fits the target audience and will learn on the job. Sports fans are fiercely loyal, sometimes to a fault. We've proven that the age and hipster wardrobe are of no concern to us judging by the uproar that occurred when Don Cherry was at risk of not being renewed. In 2016, with no Canadian teams to justify watching the playoff coverage, people all over Canada couldn't stand the 'new' style enough to watch, and the rating dropped. It was a clear sign that something more was needed.
Oh Strombo, he tried, it didn't work. It's not his fault, but it's best that he hike up his absurdly tight jeans and stick to music. Ditch the poor man's Vegas-style set they have going, get rid of no nothings Kypreos and Healy who bring about as much insight as a pineapple with brain damage, and give us back Ron McLean. Like it should have been from the start. There's nothing to be ashamed of Strombo- I'm sure Dennis Miller would agree- sportscasting just isn't for everyone.
So, good luck Strombo, wherever you end up. But seriously, take Glenn Healy with you...
The revamp of HNIC consisted of a change of music, stage, personalities and technology, it was a full overhaul from the low-key tradition of the show which boasted a crazy old man in flamboyant suits yelling for 15 minutes about icing rules and anti-Russian sentiments. The old Hockey Hotstove was so boring it would cause comatose patients to wake up just to change the channel. Unfortunately, the all-new was just that, all new. It was like taking an 80 year old woman and putting her in hot pants and heels trying to make her sing Nikki Minaj and Beyoncé. It's fine to update the classic things, but let's not overdo it. Visually, the revamp was as garish as a cougar with a neon sign. One of their main new show pieces was Canadian mini-celebrity George Strombolopolous (who we will henceforth call Strombo for obvious reasons). Strombo was well-known to most Canadians, especially those in the 25-45 age range, the CBC new target audience.
Strombo started out on Canadian TV as a MuchMusic VJ; for those of you under 25 a VJ was a host on a music channel who talked about music and music videos...before YouTube made this possible for everyone to do. He was handsome and knowledgeable, he hosted the Punk Show and seemed to have a cool edgy vibe that resonated with teens and young adults. He was given his own radio show, another dead media form, but "The Strombo Show" prospered; showing he was more than a pretty Greek face and had charisma and charm as well as well-rounded knowledge of the Canadian, American and international music scenes. He gained notoriety for this interviewing skills, reputable members of the music scene would actually seek out his show as he was intelligent and knowledgeable. This lead to him being showcased back on television on 'The Hour", a late night talk show. This was not a Leno or Letterman type show, it played more to his interviewing skills and was geared more towards his 'hip' vibe, with his gelled hair and skinny jeans, he was still aimed at the younger viewers in an attempt to get them interested in the world around them. This allowed Strombo to extend his influence beyond the music scene and into pop culture, politics, current events etc. His continued success on "The Hour" caused him to be brought south of the border to CNN, where they gave him a similar type of show, thinking that Americans would take to his hip youthful style that CNN vets like Larry King weren't as steeped in. Unfortunately, although his show was (in my opinion) very well done and very intelligent, Americans just did not welcome the tight-trousered canuck into their hearts. His stint on CNN ended after one year's brief run and he came back to Canada.
The CBC welcomed him back and excitedly offered him the hosting job of the iconic and beloved, but rating slumped HNIC. A hip new host was believed to be exactly what was needed to get Canadians back on CBC for Saturday nights and through the far too long playoff season.
They were so wrong.
Strombo is a media man, he is intelligent, he is witty and charismatic. He is NOT a hockey guy. He has never played even semi-pro, he has never coached, he has not spent time as a sportscaster, sports journalist or, judging from his conversations, really watched many games. He is also a terrible actor (see his comedy hosting on Just For Laughs). He cannot pretend to be a hockey guy convincingly, often coming off as well-suited for a hockey conversation as Donald Trump would be for a talk on foreign policy. If there is one thing Canadians take seriously, it's hockey. The average Canadian hockey fan could write you an essay on most topics without so much as glancing at Google. They know a true fan when they see one, and they can spot a fish out of water. Strombo just never fit in. As boring as the Hotstove was, those guys knew their hockey and provided insight, analysis and ideas that fans who are loyal enough to not change channels during intermissions look for. It's like any show that changes hosts- you can't just bring in the new guy because your network brass think he fits the target audience and will learn on the job. Sports fans are fiercely loyal, sometimes to a fault. We've proven that the age and hipster wardrobe are of no concern to us judging by the uproar that occurred when Don Cherry was at risk of not being renewed. In 2016, with no Canadian teams to justify watching the playoff coverage, people all over Canada couldn't stand the 'new' style enough to watch, and the rating dropped. It was a clear sign that something more was needed.
Oh Strombo, he tried, it didn't work. It's not his fault, but it's best that he hike up his absurdly tight jeans and stick to music. Ditch the poor man's Vegas-style set they have going, get rid of no nothings Kypreos and Healy who bring about as much insight as a pineapple with brain damage, and give us back Ron McLean. Like it should have been from the start. There's nothing to be ashamed of Strombo- I'm sure Dennis Miller would agree- sportscasting just isn't for everyone.
So, good luck Strombo, wherever you end up. But seriously, take Glenn Healy with you...
Friday 17 June 2016
PizzaHutline Bling
They say that there are lot of things that are hard to quit...smoking, drinking, drugs, gambling, biting your nails, licking your coworkers ear when they aren't looking etc.
For me, personally, the hardest thing I've ever tried to quit is bad food. Candy, fast food, greasy, delicious, cheap, easy, tasty......I'm already drooling. After struggling for a long time on how to manage the intake of this delicious but totally bad for you type of food, it finally came to me...quitting junk food is like giving up on your asshole of an ex boyfriend.
He's bad for you....and you know he's bad for you. You want him to be good, but he just can't be, it's not in his nature. He smells good, he feels amazing and you have a history together but he makes you feel like shit, you hate yourself every time you hook up with him and you've sworn to delete his number (967-11-11) a thousand times.
It's always the same story; you find yourself at home for the evening with no (dinner) plans...you could go out and make the effort to try something new, meet a new meal, one who is good for you and makes you feel good about yourself. But that takes effort. Going out, making sure you have everything you need, risking disappointment and putting yourself (via tastebuds) out there.
Then HE pops into your mind. You don't want to think about him...but you know he'll come if you call. He's always available...he's the cheap, easy option, but you remember what he's done to you in the past. You look down at your body and think 'No...I won't let him hurt me again'. You go online thinking about finding other meals...but it's all so much effort and thought and time. It's getting late and you just can't get HIM out of your head.
You make the foodie call.
"I'll just have a taste this one time" you tell yourself. It's not true, it never happens that way. You're simply aching with anticipation as you wait for him to get there. You feel guilty but excited, like a kid who has told a lie and is waiting to see if his teacher believes it.
The knock at the door. You don't want to run to the door because you can't let him know how anxiously you were awaiting his arrival. You can smell him before you even see him....and he smells intoxicating. You bring him inside and sit back down, casual but eager. You try to play it cool but within moments you become ravenous and simply can't contain yourself. The taste, the texture, the smell...you remember it all and it's all sooooo good.
And just like that, it's over. You feel tired, nauseated, a little bloated and greasy. You don't really remember any of what just happened because you were so lost in the moment you didn't really think about what you were doing. You look down at the remnants and mess made and you start regretting it...you had more than you wanted, it went too far again. You look at your body and feel ashamed. You let it get the better of you again, like it always has.
You clean up and get rid of any traces of what happened, desperate to forget what you just let yourself do. You promise yourself that this is the last time, that you're going to start anew tomorrow. But he knows. He knows you'll be back.
So to all my late night foodie callers...put the phone down, delete his number and try to meet a nice salad or a carb-friendly sandwich. Sure, they aren't the easy ones, but they'll treat you right and are the better long-term investment. You don't want to end up with an unwanted food baby.
For me, personally, the hardest thing I've ever tried to quit is bad food. Candy, fast food, greasy, delicious, cheap, easy, tasty......I'm already drooling. After struggling for a long time on how to manage the intake of this delicious but totally bad for you type of food, it finally came to me...quitting junk food is like giving up on your asshole of an ex boyfriend.
He's bad for you....and you know he's bad for you. You want him to be good, but he just can't be, it's not in his nature. He smells good, he feels amazing and you have a history together but he makes you feel like shit, you hate yourself every time you hook up with him and you've sworn to delete his number (967-11-11) a thousand times.
It's always the same story; you find yourself at home for the evening with no (dinner) plans...you could go out and make the effort to try something new, meet a new meal, one who is good for you and makes you feel good about yourself. But that takes effort. Going out, making sure you have everything you need, risking disappointment and putting yourself (via tastebuds) out there.
Then HE pops into your mind. You don't want to think about him...but you know he'll come if you call. He's always available...he's the cheap, easy option, but you remember what he's done to you in the past. You look down at your body and think 'No...I won't let him hurt me again'. You go online thinking about finding other meals...but it's all so much effort and thought and time. It's getting late and you just can't get HIM out of your head.
You make the foodie call.
"I'll just have a taste this one time" you tell yourself. It's not true, it never happens that way. You're simply aching with anticipation as you wait for him to get there. You feel guilty but excited, like a kid who has told a lie and is waiting to see if his teacher believes it.
The knock at the door. You don't want to run to the door because you can't let him know how anxiously you were awaiting his arrival. You can smell him before you even see him....and he smells intoxicating. You bring him inside and sit back down, casual but eager. You try to play it cool but within moments you become ravenous and simply can't contain yourself. The taste, the texture, the smell...you remember it all and it's all sooooo good.
And just like that, it's over. You feel tired, nauseated, a little bloated and greasy. You don't really remember any of what just happened because you were so lost in the moment you didn't really think about what you were doing. You look down at the remnants and mess made and you start regretting it...you had more than you wanted, it went too far again. You look at your body and feel ashamed. You let it get the better of you again, like it always has.
You clean up and get rid of any traces of what happened, desperate to forget what you just let yourself do. You promise yourself that this is the last time, that you're going to start anew tomorrow. But he knows. He knows you'll be back.
So to all my late night foodie callers...put the phone down, delete his number and try to meet a nice salad or a carb-friendly sandwich. Sure, they aren't the easy ones, but they'll treat you right and are the better long-term investment. You don't want to end up with an unwanted food baby.
Thursday 16 June 2016
Hockey Terms
Like all sports, hockey has its own rules, traditions, superstitions and language. If I were to walk up to a non-hockey fan and say "Man, did you see OV with the Gordie Howe hat trick last night? Too bad those blind zebras couldn't call an elbow if it hit them in the face".....the non-hockey fan may think I've just suffered some kind of breakdown in need of immediate mental assessment.
So, to help out our less veteran fans, here is a short compendium of some common and some odd terms used by hockey players, commentators and fans alike...a hock-tionary if you will (or if you won't, I don't judge):
Hat Trick- When one player scores three goals in one game. When this happens, all fans in attendance who are wearing hats celebrate by throwing their hats onto the ice. If you are wearing a hat and do not throw it...other fans are allowed to throw the rest of you into a toilet. Didn't want to lose your hat? Shouldn't have worn it!
Hat Trick- When one player scores three goals in one game. When this happens, all fans in attendance who are wearing hats celebrate by throwing their hats onto the ice. If you are wearing a hat and do not throw it...other fans are allowed to throw the rest of you into a toilet. Didn't want to lose your hat? Shouldn't have worn it!
Gordie Howe hat trick- when one player has a goal, an assist and a fight all in one game. This is named after the late, great Gordie Howe who could score and also turn your face into minced meat. This has become a rare feat these days as most scorers don't want to risk injury in a fight and most fighters couldn't score with a fist-full of cash in a brothel.
Wingers- these are the forwards who play predominantly on one side of the ice or the other. There are 3 forwards, one is a centreman, one plays on his left wing, the other on his right wing. This assures full ice coverage and benefits those players who are left and right-handed shots. The fact that it's referred to as 'wings' makes you think it would have made for a better signature move in the Mighty Ducks movies than that stupid Flying V....the Iceland team crushed that! Dammit Coach Bombay, you'll always be a failure in my eyes!
Wingers- these are the forwards who play predominantly on one side of the ice or the other. There are 3 forwards, one is a centreman, one plays on his left wing, the other on his right wing. This assures full ice coverage and benefits those players who are left and right-handed shots. The fact that it's referred to as 'wings' makes you think it would have made for a better signature move in the Mighty Ducks movies than that stupid Flying V....the Iceland team crushed that! Dammit Coach Bombay, you'll always be a failure in my eyes!
The Can Opener- My fondest memories of this was in the McCabe days with the Leafs, it made up for his redneck mo-hawk. This is when a player puts his stick between the legs of an opponent and twists it so as to trip him up. This is not allowed, it's a tripping penalty, but it's funny as hell to watch. The term can opener comes from the twist and flip motion, not, like a friend of mine once believed, because the player hides a metal instrument in their pants with which to hit the other team.
Sin Bin- an alternate term for the penalty box. This is where penalized players sit for their grown man's time out when they have been naughty or when the ref is a moron who calls stupid trips that were not trips (i.e. Holtby tripped over his own stick morons!!) There are many nicknames for the penalty box, my personal favourite being 'Wendel's House'
Hockey hair- really, just google it, it's magnificent. Popularized in the 80's and 90's, hockey players were notorious for having some of the best mullets of all-time. Jaromir Jagr was, and will always be, the reigning champ of best hockey hair of all-time, although the Gretzky and Lemieux heydays were quite glorious. While no longer really worn, sometimes you get some throwbacks in the playoffs to match the perennial playoff beards (an entirely different topic, see Joe Thornton 2016)
Goal Crease- This is the area around the goal, painted and the home of the weirdest and least understood creature in all of hockey, the goalie. This area is not allowed to be occupied by other players when attempting to score, only the goalie...and if you should cross into it, you should be prepared to receive a crosscheck to the spine with a goalie stick, or an opposing defenseman's fist in your jugular. Goalies are very territorial creatures, and if you mess with them, they may get very angry and scream at the ref...but then trip..and fall down...and take the ref down too...oh Cujo, you crazy bastard.
Offside- I'm not even going to try....seriously...
China Wall- nickname of Hall of Fame goalie Johnny Bower, so named as he was nearly impenetrable and a very resilient goalie. He played in the days when goalies did not wear masks, which you would think would explain his weathered face, however Johnny has looked 85 since he was 25 years old. Amongst the nicest human beings you will ever meet, some believe that a smile from Johnny Bower can bring puppies back to life.
Original Six- the first era of the NHL in which only 6 teams existed from 1942 until1967. While the NHL existed prior to 1942, teams were quite transitive and inconsistent, there were many moves and name changes of teams (i,e Toronto St.Pats became the Toronto Maple Leafs, the Ottawa Senators played and collapsed....as they should again). The teams were located in Toronto, Montreal, Chicago, New York, Boston and Detroit. As a Leafs fan, you tend to be able to respect these teams more than most as they come from an era in which hockey existed in its purest form...which is all we have ever won. Upon expansion in 1967, the Philadelphia Flyers (and others) entered the league and hockey was tainted forever....lookin at you Bobby Clark.
Puck Bunny- a less than favourable nickname for the female hockey fans who only like hockey for the players' looks. Also called 'puck f**ks', they only watch hockey from their backs and cannot spell Nordiques or Gretzky. If their jersey is longer than their skirt, their layer of makeup is thicker than the ice surface and they can only name you Lupul...she's a puck bunny. Like most bunnies, they're cute to look at but will hump anything and are fun to hit with a car.
Holding- hockey players look and act tough, but really they are all just big teddy bears and sometimes, in the middle of games, they just need to hug it out. This is only allowed on the benches and in the locker rooms where hug huddles or 'huggles' are often held just to assuage the sensitive emotions of the players. The fear is that they will not get any hockey played if they're allowed to hug too much. Just kidding, it's when you hold back another player from the puck...pretty simple really.
Miracle on Ice- in the 1980 Olympics, the underdog American team beat the superior USSR team. They didn't win gold, they won a game but they're American so they like to think this was the best hockey game ever. Two words: Henderson Scores. Suck it.
Grinder- not only a terrible show with Rob Lowe, also a hockey term. This refers to a player who plays with grit, he drives to the boards, he takes the body and works hard. He's not always going to be the highest scorer because often he's busy doing the key bits away from the puck that flashier players don't bother with...like getting into a fight (didn't wanna risk that movie star smile eh Modano?)
Icing- when a player shoots the puck across both the centre red line and the opposing team's goal line without anyone touching it in between. Used to get the puck as far out of the zone as possible in times of panic. My personal least favourite hockey term as whenever it happens, it makes me crave cupcakes and frankly, I'm beginning to look like one.
Maple Leaves- it's often asked why it's "Leafs" and not "Leaves" and other fans laugh at Leafs fans claiming we're stupid and cannot spell. One big theory of the name is that the Toronto Maple Leafs got their name from a regiment during WWI called the "Maple Leaf Regiment". In this case, the Maple Leaf would be a proper name and not a noun which thereby should not be pluralized as a noun but as a name. SO KISS MY LEAFSSSSSSSSSSS. (not like you get to criticize anyways Ottawa...you're the Senators but your logo is a centurion?!)
So now you know a few more terms from the wide world of hockey. I cannot guarantee that this will assist you in understanding everything about hockey, I've still only ever understood about 23% of anything Don Cherry has ever said.
Grinder- not only a terrible show with Rob Lowe, also a hockey term. This refers to a player who plays with grit, he drives to the boards, he takes the body and works hard. He's not always going to be the highest scorer because often he's busy doing the key bits away from the puck that flashier players don't bother with...like getting into a fight (didn't wanna risk that movie star smile eh Modano?)
Icing- when a player shoots the puck across both the centre red line and the opposing team's goal line without anyone touching it in between. Used to get the puck as far out of the zone as possible in times of panic. My personal least favourite hockey term as whenever it happens, it makes me crave cupcakes and frankly, I'm beginning to look like one.
Maple Leaves- it's often asked why it's "Leafs" and not "Leaves" and other fans laugh at Leafs fans claiming we're stupid and cannot spell. One big theory of the name is that the Toronto Maple Leafs got their name from a regiment during WWI called the "Maple Leaf Regiment". In this case, the Maple Leaf would be a proper name and not a noun which thereby should not be pluralized as a noun but as a name. SO KISS MY LEAFSSSSSSSSSSS. (not like you get to criticize anyways Ottawa...you're the Senators but your logo is a centurion?!)
So now you know a few more terms from the wide world of hockey. I cannot guarantee that this will assist you in understanding everything about hockey, I've still only ever understood about 23% of anything Don Cherry has ever said.
Wednesday 8 June 2016
The Evolution of a Leafs fan
Ladies and gentlemen your Toronto Maple Leafs....
If you read that in Andy Frost's voice, you are probably a Leafs fan.
The Leafs, one of the NHL's oldest and most storied franchises. A team with a history, a culture, a huge fan base and a stupid amount of money. I first became a fan in high school when one of my friends brought me to a game in October; we stood in the nosebleeds and although I only knew a few players' names, I found myself cheering as loud as anyone. I was hooked pretty quickly and it was then that my fandom was born and from whence it began to evolve.
Because every Leafs' fan evolves; with the rises and falls of a long loved team, our relationships with that team start to take on different stages as time goes on. You may not have hit all of the stages just yet, but just wait, you'll get there....and if any group of people knows about waiting...it's Leafs fans. Maybe this current 'Shanaplan' is your first taste of a rebuild, maybe you remember when Wendel had hair or maybe you remember when the 1919 cup was cancelled to Spanish Flu (because unlike soccer, hockey players only sit out when there's a likely chance of death). They call it 'the passion that unites us all', I call it the abusive relationship I'll never leave, but however you look at it....a Leafs fan is a fan for life, no matter the stage.
Stage 1- Baby Bud.
Maybe you've just watched your first game or maybe you've joined the hockey pool at work on a whim and find yourself getting into it...either way, you've just met hockey. It's fun, exciting and new. There are so many teams to learn, so many rules to try to remember (oh THAT's what an icing call is...they don't just stop for cupcakes at random intervals.) You're eager to learn but you're still too nervous to identify yourself as a Leafs fan as you don't want to get quizzed on 100 years of history when you've only just learned how to spell Shanahan. You don't really know about the rest of the league other than knowing instinctively that Ottawa is a shit-hole.
Stage 2- Bud.
You've been watching a couple of months and know all the players names, positions, numbers and which countries they are from (hockey fandom is a great geography lesson). You still don't quite understand everybody's roles...you know who scores and which goalie is the number one. You feel confident enough to say 'yes' when someone says 'did you see that game last night?', but not confident enough to ask that yourself. You're familiar with the all-star level players around the league and you are already developing a healthy hatred for Montreal. You listen attentively to the commentators to try to learn what you should be watching for, which nuances and trends to keep an eye on and look at the sport like a pro.
Stage 3- Sprout
You've watched a full season. You have seen some streaks, good and bad. You understand your team dynamics a bit better and more or less understand each team member's role. You watch every single game, you'll even make your plans around game time. You've started looking in to team history a bit, learning the classic names like Clark, Sittler, Bower, Horton, etc. You're now fully aware that this team hasn't won since 1967, but that doesn't really mean anything to you- other sports have had longer droughts. You've watched your first All-Star game and already agree that they suck. You know that there's a draft at the end of the season but you're not there yet. You know that July 1st is an important day,,,,but you're not entirely sure what happens. You know which commentators are better than others; you despise Glenn Healey and Strombo but you revere Bob McKenzie.
Stage 4- Leafling
It's been a couple of seasons, you've seen other teams hoist the cup and it's made you hungry for playoffs. You know all the teams and all the star players and are the first to defend the Leafs no matter what anyone says. Everyone sucks but the Leafs and anyone who cheers from another team is an idiot (if they are a Philly fan, this is justified for eternity). You go to every tail gate party and only miss a game if you really have to (i.e. an inconsiderate family funeral without HD). If you're lucky enough to see them in the playoffs, you're up and down Yonge Street honking in a car or waving a flag. At this point, you're most likely to start eyeing Leaf tattoos. You jump in to every hockey conversation you overhear, you're eager to prove yourself. You still trust the management.
Stage 5- Leafs Fan
You're a veteran. You love them...but now you also are cautious of them...like an ex who has hurt you but you took them back anyways. You've seen them do nothing on Trade Deadline day (or worse, sign Aki Berg), you've been gouged for ticket prices a year after missing the playoffs...and maybe some of your favourites have retired or taken higher paying contracts with other teams (and they say it's because they want a cup, but did Vancouver give you a cup?? Did it Mats? Did it?!?!) You're familiar with all the players on every team, you refuse to watch All-Star games and have taken an interest in the minor leagues. You have respect for the other teams and can understand their fans (not Buffalo though). You're seeing players less as idols, more as commodities, because if you have to lose that much-loved player to get the man who is going to help you win and free-up cap space, so be it. You wear your wounds with pride, and your many jerseys, hats, shirts, etc. You talk about previous seasons like war vets speak of battles (oh, the strike of 2004, that was a cold year, with no hockey to watch for nigh on 12 months...September 15th 2004 shall live in infamy)
Stage 6- Your Dad
It's the stage everyone fears and vows never to reach...but we all do. You've become your father. You'll catch the odd game here and there, usually not missing them because you're busy, but you just can't be bothered to watch those overpaid punks in the 'new hockey' because it's not the game you grew to love. It's a bunch of millionaires playing for billionaires in a bastardized version of a once-great game. In your day, goalies didn't wear more armour than a Game of Thrones episode. In your day, people could actually have a fight, and the fighters would shake hands afterwards. In your day, shootout was a bad word. 3-on-3? That was something that happened at bachelor parties, not hockey games! You know you've reached this stage when you first say "He's not as good as (insert retired payer) was". That tattoo you got as a Leafling maybe has a few little sags in it...you said you'd get the year they won the Cup tattooed beside it....but that space is still blank...isn't it. You are quick to dismiss any good news, claiming they don't know what they're doing or they'll screw it up. It's not that you don't want them to do well, you wish them well...but you just can't keep letting yourself get hurt.
Stage 7- Your Grandfather
You watch one, maybe two games a year, and usually only if someone else is around and they put it on. There is no joy left in you in the modern day team, you can't pronounce the player names, not that they would hold a candle to your old time players. Half the teams you grew up with have collapsed or moved to other cities that should never have hockey in them (3 teams in California?! 2 in Florida??). You long for the old days when players had respect, were allowed to play and hockey was hockey. When asked if you're a hockey fan, you reply 'I used to be', but....although you don't admit it, you still get a little smile during playoff time...you have been hurt for too long to get your hopes up, but you still hold that flame, deep down, to see the Cup come to Toronto. Your jerseys are in the back of the closet or maybe in an old box or bag, they haven't seen the light of day in a very long time. however you would never dream of getting rid of them. Like Yoda teaching Luke, you have paid your dues and the new generation can spend their energy chasing the dream but you still want to see the Sith defeated (Gary Bettman).
In conclusion, my dear blue bloods, Leaf fans come in many shapes, sizes, genders, nationalities and stages. We may evolve at different rates and times, but we share the love of our team at the core center of it all and our hearts beat to the chant of 'Go Leafs Go'. No matter what, we can all agree....Kerry Fraser can eat a giant bag of dicks.
If you read that in Andy Frost's voice, you are probably a Leafs fan.
The Leafs, one of the NHL's oldest and most storied franchises. A team with a history, a culture, a huge fan base and a stupid amount of money. I first became a fan in high school when one of my friends brought me to a game in October; we stood in the nosebleeds and although I only knew a few players' names, I found myself cheering as loud as anyone. I was hooked pretty quickly and it was then that my fandom was born and from whence it began to evolve.
Because every Leafs' fan evolves; with the rises and falls of a long loved team, our relationships with that team start to take on different stages as time goes on. You may not have hit all of the stages just yet, but just wait, you'll get there....and if any group of people knows about waiting...it's Leafs fans. Maybe this current 'Shanaplan' is your first taste of a rebuild, maybe you remember when Wendel had hair or maybe you remember when the 1919 cup was cancelled to Spanish Flu (because unlike soccer, hockey players only sit out when there's a likely chance of death). They call it 'the passion that unites us all', I call it the abusive relationship I'll never leave, but however you look at it....a Leafs fan is a fan for life, no matter the stage.
Stage 1- Baby Bud.
Maybe you've just watched your first game or maybe you've joined the hockey pool at work on a whim and find yourself getting into it...either way, you've just met hockey. It's fun, exciting and new. There are so many teams to learn, so many rules to try to remember (oh THAT's what an icing call is...they don't just stop for cupcakes at random intervals.) You're eager to learn but you're still too nervous to identify yourself as a Leafs fan as you don't want to get quizzed on 100 years of history when you've only just learned how to spell Shanahan. You don't really know about the rest of the league other than knowing instinctively that Ottawa is a shit-hole.
Stage 2- Bud.
You've been watching a couple of months and know all the players names, positions, numbers and which countries they are from (hockey fandom is a great geography lesson). You still don't quite understand everybody's roles...you know who scores and which goalie is the number one. You feel confident enough to say 'yes' when someone says 'did you see that game last night?', but not confident enough to ask that yourself. You're familiar with the all-star level players around the league and you are already developing a healthy hatred for Montreal. You listen attentively to the commentators to try to learn what you should be watching for, which nuances and trends to keep an eye on and look at the sport like a pro.
Stage 3- Sprout
You've watched a full season. You have seen some streaks, good and bad. You understand your team dynamics a bit better and more or less understand each team member's role. You watch every single game, you'll even make your plans around game time. You've started looking in to team history a bit, learning the classic names like Clark, Sittler, Bower, Horton, etc. You're now fully aware that this team hasn't won since 1967, but that doesn't really mean anything to you- other sports have had longer droughts. You've watched your first All-Star game and already agree that they suck. You know that there's a draft at the end of the season but you're not there yet. You know that July 1st is an important day,,,,but you're not entirely sure what happens. You know which commentators are better than others; you despise Glenn Healey and Strombo but you revere Bob McKenzie.
Stage 4- Leafling
It's been a couple of seasons, you've seen other teams hoist the cup and it's made you hungry for playoffs. You know all the teams and all the star players and are the first to defend the Leafs no matter what anyone says. Everyone sucks but the Leafs and anyone who cheers from another team is an idiot (if they are a Philly fan, this is justified for eternity). You go to every tail gate party and only miss a game if you really have to (i.e. an inconsiderate family funeral without HD). If you're lucky enough to see them in the playoffs, you're up and down Yonge Street honking in a car or waving a flag. At this point, you're most likely to start eyeing Leaf tattoos. You jump in to every hockey conversation you overhear, you're eager to prove yourself. You still trust the management.
Stage 5- Leafs Fan
You're a veteran. You love them...but now you also are cautious of them...like an ex who has hurt you but you took them back anyways. You've seen them do nothing on Trade Deadline day (or worse, sign Aki Berg), you've been gouged for ticket prices a year after missing the playoffs...and maybe some of your favourites have retired or taken higher paying contracts with other teams (and they say it's because they want a cup, but did Vancouver give you a cup?? Did it Mats? Did it?!?!) You're familiar with all the players on every team, you refuse to watch All-Star games and have taken an interest in the minor leagues. You have respect for the other teams and can understand their fans (not Buffalo though). You're seeing players less as idols, more as commodities, because if you have to lose that much-loved player to get the man who is going to help you win and free-up cap space, so be it. You wear your wounds with pride, and your many jerseys, hats, shirts, etc. You talk about previous seasons like war vets speak of battles (oh, the strike of 2004, that was a cold year, with no hockey to watch for nigh on 12 months...September 15th 2004 shall live in infamy)
Stage 6- Your Dad
It's the stage everyone fears and vows never to reach...but we all do. You've become your father. You'll catch the odd game here and there, usually not missing them because you're busy, but you just can't be bothered to watch those overpaid punks in the 'new hockey' because it's not the game you grew to love. It's a bunch of millionaires playing for billionaires in a bastardized version of a once-great game. In your day, goalies didn't wear more armour than a Game of Thrones episode. In your day, people could actually have a fight, and the fighters would shake hands afterwards. In your day, shootout was a bad word. 3-on-3? That was something that happened at bachelor parties, not hockey games! You know you've reached this stage when you first say "He's not as good as (insert retired payer) was". That tattoo you got as a Leafling maybe has a few little sags in it...you said you'd get the year they won the Cup tattooed beside it....but that space is still blank...isn't it. You are quick to dismiss any good news, claiming they don't know what they're doing or they'll screw it up. It's not that you don't want them to do well, you wish them well...but you just can't keep letting yourself get hurt.
Stage 7- Your Grandfather
You watch one, maybe two games a year, and usually only if someone else is around and they put it on. There is no joy left in you in the modern day team, you can't pronounce the player names, not that they would hold a candle to your old time players. Half the teams you grew up with have collapsed or moved to other cities that should never have hockey in them (3 teams in California?! 2 in Florida??). You long for the old days when players had respect, were allowed to play and hockey was hockey. When asked if you're a hockey fan, you reply 'I used to be', but....although you don't admit it, you still get a little smile during playoff time...you have been hurt for too long to get your hopes up, but you still hold that flame, deep down, to see the Cup come to Toronto. Your jerseys are in the back of the closet or maybe in an old box or bag, they haven't seen the light of day in a very long time. however you would never dream of getting rid of them. Like Yoda teaching Luke, you have paid your dues and the new generation can spend their energy chasing the dream but you still want to see the Sith defeated (Gary Bettman).
In conclusion, my dear blue bloods, Leaf fans come in many shapes, sizes, genders, nationalities and stages. We may evolve at different rates and times, but we share the love of our team at the core center of it all and our hearts beat to the chant of 'Go Leafs Go'. No matter what, we can all agree....Kerry Fraser can eat a giant bag of dicks.
Monday 9 May 2016
Words to yo' Motha
As it was Mother's Day yesterday, I will do what my mom did when she gave birth to me...I will unleash a terror on the world!! The terrible boredom of more new words!!!
Waifchella (wayf-chel-lah) adj. The current fashion trend of making every girl look like she's trying to be a hippie at Coachella, but the clothing is only cute if you have the body fat levels of a stick of organic celery.
DDnied (Dub-bull Dee Nye-d) verb. Being unable to purchase certain items of clothing due to an overabundance of boob.
Stuperstar (Stoop-ur Sta-ahr) noun. When you do something that, at first, seems incredibly dumb, but turns out well in the end. Example: dropping your phone in public but having it picked up by the cute guy/girl and starting a conversation.
Mother of Drag-ons (Muthur of Drag-gons) noun. When you call your mom for something quick but she ends up talking your ear off for 2 hours, no matter how many time you try to end the conversation.
Canadian Thermometer (Can-ay-dee-an Thur-mom-etter) noun. When you go outside in winter with wet hair and it turns to icilcles.
Vegantologist (Vee-ghan-tall-ah-jist) noun. Vegans who are way too obsessed with being vegan and are always trying to convert everyone else.
Waifchella (wayf-chel-lah) adj. The current fashion trend of making every girl look like she's trying to be a hippie at Coachella, but the clothing is only cute if you have the body fat levels of a stick of organic celery.
DDnied (Dub-bull Dee Nye-d) verb. Being unable to purchase certain items of clothing due to an overabundance of boob.
Stuperstar (Stoop-ur Sta-ahr) noun. When you do something that, at first, seems incredibly dumb, but turns out well in the end. Example: dropping your phone in public but having it picked up by the cute guy/girl and starting a conversation.
Mother of Drag-ons (Muthur of Drag-gons) noun. When you call your mom for something quick but she ends up talking your ear off for 2 hours, no matter how many time you try to end the conversation.
Canadian Thermometer (Can-ay-dee-an Thur-mom-etter) noun. When you go outside in winter with wet hair and it turns to icilcles.
Vegantologist (Vee-ghan-tall-ah-jist) noun. Vegans who are way too obsessed with being vegan and are always trying to convert everyone else.
Tuesday 22 March 2016
Word up!
Productired (Pro-duck-tie-rd) adj. When you're extra tired in the morning at work, s much so that you don't socialize or get up, therefore getting a lot more work done than usual. Simply, being too tired to procrastinate
Aquaholic (Ah-qwa-hall-ick) noun. That person who, no matter, the problem, tells you to drink lots of water. For everything from a headache to brain tumors, "drink more water".
Crankapotamus (Kraynk-ha-pott-a-muss) noun. When you're having a bad PMS day, so you try relaxing in a hot bath but you just sit in there all grumpy, half submerged and bloated.
The Giuseppe Curl (Juice-eppy kurl) noun. the Italian version of the Gerry Curl. That overly gelled curly half-mullet that looks like they dyed Mr.Noodles and made a wig out of it.
Bimbi (Bim-bee) noun. A bimbo whose high heels are making her walk like a baby deer.
Aquaholic (Ah-qwa-hall-ick) noun. That person who, no matter, the problem, tells you to drink lots of water. For everything from a headache to brain tumors, "drink more water".
Crankapotamus (Kraynk-ha-pott-a-muss) noun. When you're having a bad PMS day, so you try relaxing in a hot bath but you just sit in there all grumpy, half submerged and bloated.
The Giuseppe Curl (Juice-eppy kurl) noun. the Italian version of the Gerry Curl. That overly gelled curly half-mullet that looks like they dyed Mr.Noodles and made a wig out of it.
Bimbi (Bim-bee) noun. A bimbo whose high heels are making her walk like a baby deer.
Friday 11 March 2016
Breaking up is hard to do
Breaking up is hard to do. It’s happened to all of us, whether we were the one doing the breaking up or the one being broken up with, it’s never easy. It’s painful, it’s awkward, and it can get very emotional and messy. That inevitable ‘we need to talk’ and the cutting of ties with that person who was, until not, so close to you. Even if the relationship is short lived, the breakup conversation is never an easy undertaking.
I have personally been on both ends of breakups and there are few few of them that I can look back on without shaking my head in shame, disbelief, regret or laughter.
In order to ease the process of ending a relationship or to try to avoid the messy emotions and possible anger and hurt feelings, people tend to feel the need to explain the reason for the breakup. This is almost always a lie, the real reasons are usually too complicated or too mean to actually explain. This often leads to people coming up with reasons for breaking up with someone that are “inventive”. Warning…some of these are real:
Weirdest reasons for breaking up with someone
“I aspire to be the Pope…so this could only ever go so far”
“I’m moving…..2 blocks away….and now the walk is just too far”
“My mom says that she’s the only woman I need in my life”
“My dog doesn’t like you”
“I am already in a relationship….with God”
“The voices told me to”
“This relationship is getting in the way of my Xbox time”
“I met someone with lower self-esteem than you, she’ll do anything”
“I bought new shoes and you just don’t match them”
“I saw a couple fight on a TV show...and I feel like you'd take his side”
“I'm saving myself for Draco Malfoy”
“I don't like how your last name sounds with my name”
“Why are you breaking up with me? All I said was it's fine that I don't find you as hot as my ex”
“You wouldn't get my face tattooed on your back so you don't love me”
“That new job I just got? Yeah, it's as your boss”
“My psychic told me we were related in a past life and I don't believe in incest”
“I was eating a burrito and I realized it looked like you...and I'm not okay with that”
“You didn't like my selfie fast enough on Instagram”
“Did you know bigamy is illegal? My wife just told me...sooo....”
I have personally been on both ends of breakups and there are few few of them that I can look back on without shaking my head in shame, disbelief, regret or laughter.
In order to ease the process of ending a relationship or to try to avoid the messy emotions and possible anger and hurt feelings, people tend to feel the need to explain the reason for the breakup. This is almost always a lie, the real reasons are usually too complicated or too mean to actually explain. This often leads to people coming up with reasons for breaking up with someone that are “inventive”. Warning…some of these are real:
Weirdest reasons for breaking up with someone
“I aspire to be the Pope…so this could only ever go so far”
“I’m moving…..2 blocks away….and now the walk is just too far”
“My mom says that she’s the only woman I need in my life”
“My dog doesn’t like you”
“I am already in a relationship….with God”
“The voices told me to”
“This relationship is getting in the way of my Xbox time”
“I met someone with lower self-esteem than you, she’ll do anything”
“I bought new shoes and you just don’t match them”
“I saw a couple fight on a TV show...and I feel like you'd take his side”
“I'm saving myself for Draco Malfoy”
“I don't like how your last name sounds with my name”
“Why are you breaking up with me? All I said was it's fine that I don't find you as hot as my ex”
“You wouldn't get my face tattooed on your back so you don't love me”
“That new job I just got? Yeah, it's as your boss”
“My psychic told me we were related in a past life and I don't believe in incest”
“I was eating a burrito and I realized it looked like you...and I'm not okay with that”
“You didn't like my selfie fast enough on Instagram”
“Did you know bigamy is illegal? My wife just told me...sooo....”
Thursday 10 March 2016
A Woman's Rant part one- Periods
I know we live in a time where we are supposed to be gender normative, gender neutral, full equality and never admit that any one human being is in any way different to any other human being. Well, suck my big fat lady balls. I am a woman, and biologically, that still means something. So if my discussing problems that are unique to my gender is a trigger to you and your hypersensitive gender issues, I suggest using the red 'X' at the top right of the page right now.
Alright, let's start with the obvious. Periods. There- that just got rid of a whole ton of male readers (as if I have readers) unless they are over the age of 30 and have been married long enough that it's as much as part of their life as oil changes and taking the garbage out.
Periods are something women have to deal with for 30-40 years of their life...every single month (except during pregnancy) and they are a simply biological process and completely natural. They are also lifelong hell curses sent by Satan himself. Seriously, the reward for not getting knocked up every month is to bleed out of your crotch for 5 days and feel like a whale who has been harpooned and left for dead?
Emotionally we're on a roller coaster we have zero control over where one second you're screaming at a kitten, the next you want to cry because you dropped your pen. It's especially bad during your teenage years, your hormones are already going crazy enough, then you through the period monkey wrench in there and watch out- you've got a walking grenade that can go at any second for no reason. I remember once screaming and whipping a fork at my brother's head because he jokingly took it from me in the kitchen one day...I still remember the look of terror on my entire family's face as I did it. I didn't mean to react that way, I certainly didn't mean to hurt him...but at that moment, I was so blinded with hormonal rage that I just....kablammo. As we age, our hormones change, so that means how we are during pre-menstrual and menstrual times change- some of us mellow out a bit more, some people get more unpredictably emotional, it's different for everyone...and we have no more warning than anyone else. Maybe one month you are just horrendously sad about everything- everything makes you cry (like the time I sobbed at a Muppet movie I'd seen a hundred times before), but maybe the next month everything makes you unreasonably aroused (like...you're siting at your desk and your mind just keeps wandering to the most 50 Shades-ish type fantasies for no reason). Men tend to think that women are so cranky and emotional around their periods just because they're upset or frustrated with having to have a period...nope, that pretty much has nothing to do with it. Our emotions get hijacked by some little red goblin in our brains and they hit the button 'random'...the same little goblin who gives teenage boys unexpected erections and drives their brain to think about sex and boobs....that little jerk goblin takes over our emotions.
Physically, good god. So, first of all, we bleed. Some only bleed a little bit...I call these women b*tches. I had friends growing up who only ever had light little periods and were more like those annoying women in the tampon commercials who only wear white and ride horses on the beach while on their periods. Most of us are not that lucky. Some of us full on bleed- like, a lot. We buy special ugly underwear to wear during our periods because there's a good chance that they will get stained with blood....and period blood does not wash out like other blood. If you get a cut and you get blood on your shirt or pants, you can rinse it and it will come out....period blood stays forever. Listen, this may sound gross and graphic, but it's true. You often wear dark pants, just in case, and skirts and dresses are worn with extreme caution. Pants with stretchy waistbands are a savior, because you're bloated to the size of a whale. Your uterus swells, which not only hurts itself, but the swelling presses on other organs, like your bladder...meaning you have to pee all the time. Also, it puts pressure on the lower back, so you just hurt and ache like crazy. The uterus is shedding it's built up layer...so to slough it off and out, it's contracting and expanding to force it out....and you feel it. Sometimes I have to actually look down at my abdomen to reassure myself that I haven't actually been stabbed because the pains are so sharp and severe. The hormones will often also cause pH imbalances, meaning you may get a yeast infection, acne, greasier hair, increased hair growth....so we are feeling ugly inside and out.
So if your woman doesn't want to go out on a night because she's on her period...cut her some slack. I don't think most guys would want to hit the bar if their penis was oozing and they felt like their innards were trying to escape from their body. Graphic, yes; real, yes. Also, next time you want to make a 'maybe she's on her period joke'...yeah, I want you to graphically picture everything I described before you say that...cause you're a d*ck.
So to all my ladies out there in black sweatpants, scarfing down chocolate and clutching the hot water bottle to their tummies....I salute you, because we're in this together.
Alright, let's start with the obvious. Periods. There- that just got rid of a whole ton of male readers (as if I have readers) unless they are over the age of 30 and have been married long enough that it's as much as part of their life as oil changes and taking the garbage out.
Periods are something women have to deal with for 30-40 years of their life...every single month (except during pregnancy) and they are a simply biological process and completely natural. They are also lifelong hell curses sent by Satan himself. Seriously, the reward for not getting knocked up every month is to bleed out of your crotch for 5 days and feel like a whale who has been harpooned and left for dead?
Emotionally we're on a roller coaster we have zero control over where one second you're screaming at a kitten, the next you want to cry because you dropped your pen. It's especially bad during your teenage years, your hormones are already going crazy enough, then you through the period monkey wrench in there and watch out- you've got a walking grenade that can go at any second for no reason. I remember once screaming and whipping a fork at my brother's head because he jokingly took it from me in the kitchen one day...I still remember the look of terror on my entire family's face as I did it. I didn't mean to react that way, I certainly didn't mean to hurt him...but at that moment, I was so blinded with hormonal rage that I just....kablammo. As we age, our hormones change, so that means how we are during pre-menstrual and menstrual times change- some of us mellow out a bit more, some people get more unpredictably emotional, it's different for everyone...and we have no more warning than anyone else. Maybe one month you are just horrendously sad about everything- everything makes you cry (like the time I sobbed at a Muppet movie I'd seen a hundred times before), but maybe the next month everything makes you unreasonably aroused (like...you're siting at your desk and your mind just keeps wandering to the most 50 Shades-ish type fantasies for no reason). Men tend to think that women are so cranky and emotional around their periods just because they're upset or frustrated with having to have a period...nope, that pretty much has nothing to do with it. Our emotions get hijacked by some little red goblin in our brains and they hit the button 'random'...the same little goblin who gives teenage boys unexpected erections and drives their brain to think about sex and boobs....that little jerk goblin takes over our emotions.
Physically, good god. So, first of all, we bleed. Some only bleed a little bit...I call these women b*tches. I had friends growing up who only ever had light little periods and were more like those annoying women in the tampon commercials who only wear white and ride horses on the beach while on their periods. Most of us are not that lucky. Some of us full on bleed- like, a lot. We buy special ugly underwear to wear during our periods because there's a good chance that they will get stained with blood....and period blood does not wash out like other blood. If you get a cut and you get blood on your shirt or pants, you can rinse it and it will come out....period blood stays forever. Listen, this may sound gross and graphic, but it's true. You often wear dark pants, just in case, and skirts and dresses are worn with extreme caution. Pants with stretchy waistbands are a savior, because you're bloated to the size of a whale. Your uterus swells, which not only hurts itself, but the swelling presses on other organs, like your bladder...meaning you have to pee all the time. Also, it puts pressure on the lower back, so you just hurt and ache like crazy. The uterus is shedding it's built up layer...so to slough it off and out, it's contracting and expanding to force it out....and you feel it. Sometimes I have to actually look down at my abdomen to reassure myself that I haven't actually been stabbed because the pains are so sharp and severe. The hormones will often also cause pH imbalances, meaning you may get a yeast infection, acne, greasier hair, increased hair growth....so we are feeling ugly inside and out.
So if your woman doesn't want to go out on a night because she's on her period...cut her some slack. I don't think most guys would want to hit the bar if their penis was oozing and they felt like their innards were trying to escape from their body. Graphic, yes; real, yes. Also, next time you want to make a 'maybe she's on her period joke'...yeah, I want you to graphically picture everything I described before you say that...cause you're a d*ck.
So to all my ladies out there in black sweatpants, scarfing down chocolate and clutching the hot water bottle to their tummies....I salute you, because we're in this together.
Wednesday 2 March 2016
The Siiiimpsooooons.....
I'm departing slightly from the norm...which is ironically normal for me. I will not be ranting or making new crazy words that don't really make any sense. Instead...I will simply share my personal list of the best Simpsons episodes of all time. This is purely my own opinion, which, means it is not right, but it means it is better than yours.
In no particular order:
1. Scorpio. Need I say more? The James Bond reference. The hammock district. The slow kid from Canada. I have a Hank Scoprio action figure on my desk, complete with flame thrower...because when project Arcturus comes to fruition, I will be joining the new regime.
2. Monorail. This episode put Ogdenville and North Haverbrook on the map. What wild animal wasn't called Bitey after that? Let's face it, who needs an expensive bid on the olympics when what we really want is that 50 foot elevator to nowhere or the popsicle skyscraper. Why did that guy stop for a haircut?!
3. Stonecutters. Who loves this episode? We do, we do! This episode only further proves that Patrick Stewart can do no wrong. This episode has the Egg Counsel and Steve Gutenberg...what more do you need?!
4. The Stroke. Dental plan...Lisa needs braces. Hired Goons. Play Classical Gas! This episode may even be the most consistent ever for laughs, it's pretty much non-stop from start to finish.
5. Terror Lake. Sideshow Bob was always pretty good for a decent episode, but this was his best. The rakes. The cactus patch. The elephants randomly celebrating Hannibal's crossing of the Alps. Mr.Thompson "I think he's talking to you". Brilliant.
6. Mindy. Marge and Homer's marriage has undergone many tests of possible infidelity, but never as good as Michelle Pfeiffer's Mindy. Where else would we learn to appreciate finding a turkey on a vacation from workey? The annoying bellboy with all of the sexual euphemism noises. Colonel Klink!
7. Beer Baron. Oh Rex Banner...you didn't enjoy your banana kaboom. Who didn't want to try a bathtub mint julep after watching this? Complete with nasal voiced narrator, this episode made me truly appreciate the joy of yelling "Kablammo!"
8. Softball- Usually when you have multiple guests appearances in one episode, things get messy, but this was brilliant. Gigantism! Daaaaaryl, Daaaaryl...it was all so good. Who doesn't still know the softball song at the end. Mister Burns' trying to bunt may be the ultimate cure for depression. I wonder if he ever figured out what sideburns are.
9. The Alien- Mulder and Scully came to Sprinfield and it only got better from there. The creepy music/symphony on the bus gag...the 'DIET' sign, Moe trying to carry a contraband whale. Add in yet another amazing guest shot by Leonard Nemoy and you just cannot go wrong. "It's like a lava lamp"
10. Homer's first gay friend, John. He taught us about camp value, that ultra-suede is a miracle and that Homer likes his homosexuals FLAMING. With some fabulous tributes to the steel mill industry and Hawaiian shirts, we saw just how ruthless reindeer can be "I've been tenderized".
I could go on, the Simpsons had some amazing golden years...long over, but still! I would continue my list but after thinking about them, I really just want to go watch all the old episodes.
In no particular order:
1. Scorpio. Need I say more? The James Bond reference. The hammock district. The slow kid from Canada. I have a Hank Scoprio action figure on my desk, complete with flame thrower...because when project Arcturus comes to fruition, I will be joining the new regime.
2. Monorail. This episode put Ogdenville and North Haverbrook on the map. What wild animal wasn't called Bitey after that? Let's face it, who needs an expensive bid on the olympics when what we really want is that 50 foot elevator to nowhere or the popsicle skyscraper. Why did that guy stop for a haircut?!
3. Stonecutters. Who loves this episode? We do, we do! This episode only further proves that Patrick Stewart can do no wrong. This episode has the Egg Counsel and Steve Gutenberg...what more do you need?!
4. The Stroke. Dental plan...Lisa needs braces. Hired Goons. Play Classical Gas! This episode may even be the most consistent ever for laughs, it's pretty much non-stop from start to finish.
5. Terror Lake. Sideshow Bob was always pretty good for a decent episode, but this was his best. The rakes. The cactus patch. The elephants randomly celebrating Hannibal's crossing of the Alps. Mr.Thompson "I think he's talking to you". Brilliant.
6. Mindy. Marge and Homer's marriage has undergone many tests of possible infidelity, but never as good as Michelle Pfeiffer's Mindy. Where else would we learn to appreciate finding a turkey on a vacation from workey? The annoying bellboy with all of the sexual euphemism noises. Colonel Klink!
7. Beer Baron. Oh Rex Banner...you didn't enjoy your banana kaboom. Who didn't want to try a bathtub mint julep after watching this? Complete with nasal voiced narrator, this episode made me truly appreciate the joy of yelling "Kablammo!"
8. Softball- Usually when you have multiple guests appearances in one episode, things get messy, but this was brilliant. Gigantism! Daaaaaryl, Daaaaryl...it was all so good. Who doesn't still know the softball song at the end. Mister Burns' trying to bunt may be the ultimate cure for depression. I wonder if he ever figured out what sideburns are.
9. The Alien- Mulder and Scully came to Sprinfield and it only got better from there. The creepy music/symphony on the bus gag...the 'DIET' sign, Moe trying to carry a contraband whale. Add in yet another amazing guest shot by Leonard Nemoy and you just cannot go wrong. "It's like a lava lamp"
10. Homer's first gay friend, John. He taught us about camp value, that ultra-suede is a miracle and that Homer likes his homosexuals FLAMING. With some fabulous tributes to the steel mill industry and Hawaiian shirts, we saw just how ruthless reindeer can be "I've been tenderized".
I could go on, the Simpsons had some amazing golden years...long over, but still! I would continue my list but after thinking about them, I really just want to go watch all the old episodes.
Wednesday 24 February 2016
Just Don't
There are some thing you just shouldn’t do. I don’t care what your excuse it, I don’t
want to hear it. Just don’t.
So….just don’t:
Use the toilet and not wash your hands
Spit in public
Stop and have a conversation in the middle of a crowded
hallway
Use the last of the milk and not replace it
Listen to Kanye
Talk about being a vegan
Wear socks and sneakers with shorts (I’m looking at the
white dudes with cargo shorts on this one)
Argue for 10 minutes with the cashier about something beyond
her control (price, policy etc)
Cut in line
Take a seat on transit when there’s someone who needs it
more
Talk on the phone on transit
Use the term OCD for every habit you have
Think everything is about you
Brush someone off endlessly and then wonder why they don’t
call anymore
Gossip, because it’s really just another word for bullying
Use violence
Miss a chance to call your parents
Expect others to pay for your life and your mistakes
Expect your eBay purchase to be what you hoped
Ask a woman if she’s pregnant, no matter how big the belly
is
Post spoilers online less than 2 weeks after the first
airing
Ask me why I’m a Leafs fan…I have no good answers anymore.
Ask me for advise if you aren’t going to listen
Plan a meeting for a Friday afternoon
Be late for everything
Be the person who always cancels plans
Tell me about your workout
Be offended by stupid crap
Complain about the government if you didn’t vote
Believe Trump
Wear crocs
Be a bitch
There….so just….don’t.
Monday 22 February 2016
This is why I drink
Those moments of pure anxiety. We all have them...some more than others. While some people cannot do anything at all without feeling anxious about it, there are certain things in life that every single person feels anxious about while it's happening, no matter how irrational the anxiety may be.
- Paying by card. Even if you know you have tons of room or money on your card, there is always that innate fear that the card will get declined and you'll look like a loser
- Trying on clothes. You know your size...you shop at this store all the time. But what if you've suddenly put on 40 pounds and 4 sizes in the past few weeks!?
- Looking for your phone. If you didn't put it in the exact spot/pocket you first checked...instant terror.
- Sending an email. You send dozens, hundreds a week...but each time you hit send...are you 100% sure you spelled everything correctly and said everything in an appropriate way? Did you remember to mention everything you meant to?
- Missing that last step. That swooping feeling you get in your tummy as your foot goes down a step further than you were expecting....makes you feel like you've fallen off the Chrysler Building.
- When you have to take off your jewelry and/or watch for something like a shower or medical exam and don't put it back on right away. No matter how many times you remind yourself that it's not lost, you know exactly where it is....every time you look at it's not there or you notice the lack of feeling it...you're convinced it's lost forever.
-Stepping on the scale...because no matter how good you've been that week...the scale is an a-hole.
- When the boss asks to speak to you for a minute out of nowhere. You most likely did absolutely nothing wrong, but you start panicking that you're about to be fired- you start desperately trying to think of anything you may have done wrong that could warrant discipline- 'did I get caught using Facebook too much?', 'did someone complain about me?', 'do they know I've been secretly farming llamas in the downstairs breakroom?'
- Googling your symptoms. No matter what ails you, don't do it. Dr.Google never has good news. A sore throat? Throat cancer. An achy back? Your spine is deteriorating. Sneezed? You have alien pods living in your lungs. It's the same reason you should never read the 'side effects' on the meds...they will scare you into feeling worse.
- Walking past one of those annoying students with a charity clipboard. You don't want to stop, you don't want to have to come up with some excuse why you don't want to talk to them or why you don't want to give them your money...but you feel like a jerk because they're asking for your time and money usually to help the needy. You walk past every time with the 'oh god don't make eye contact' mantra and pray that if you walk by quickly enough they won't see you, like some opposite of a T-rex.
- When you have to take off your jewelry and/or watch for something like a shower or medical exam and don't put it back on right away. No matter how many times you remind yourself that it's not lost, you know exactly where it is....every time you look at it's not there or you notice the lack of feeling it...you're convinced it's lost forever.
-Stepping on the scale...because no matter how good you've been that week...the scale is an a-hole.
- When the boss asks to speak to you for a minute out of nowhere. You most likely did absolutely nothing wrong, but you start panicking that you're about to be fired- you start desperately trying to think of anything you may have done wrong that could warrant discipline- 'did I get caught using Facebook too much?', 'did someone complain about me?', 'do they know I've been secretly farming llamas in the downstairs breakroom?'
- Googling your symptoms. No matter what ails you, don't do it. Dr.Google never has good news. A sore throat? Throat cancer. An achy back? Your spine is deteriorating. Sneezed? You have alien pods living in your lungs. It's the same reason you should never read the 'side effects' on the meds...they will scare you into feeling worse.
- Walking past one of those annoying students with a charity clipboard. You don't want to stop, you don't want to have to come up with some excuse why you don't want to talk to them or why you don't want to give them your money...but you feel like a jerk because they're asking for your time and money usually to help the needy. You walk past every time with the 'oh god don't make eye contact' mantra and pray that if you walk by quickly enough they won't see you, like some opposite of a T-rex.
Wednesday 6 January 2016
Adding to the Dictionary
New year, new post, new words...it's all coming up Milhouse!!!
Playing hide and sneak - verb- Hiding junk food away from reach to avoid eating it all but then sneaking back to that spot every few minutes to eat more.
A Staff Infection- noun (Stahff in-fek-shiun)- when that jerk coworker comes in with a cold and gets the whole office sick.
Jiggiggling - verb (Dzi-gig-lling)- when a fat person laughs really animatedly and they begin to look like a lava lamp. (example: me when watching cat videos)
Famish adj. (Fay-mish)- Someone who is kinda famous but not really. The sort of person you recognize from things...but you never remember from what or what their name is.
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