Innuendo and other

I am a big fan of puns. I say that with no shame.... well ok, I say it with very little shame, much less than you might think.

Bad puns, good puns (is there such a thing?)....

Anyways, I did not come here to talk about puns, I came here to talk about double entendres and how the best double entendre in the world occurred today, but I got side tracked by puns...

The scene played out like this, and I'll warn you, it's vaguely sexual. Reader discretion is by no means advised:

I was downtown for a "Drop Fees" rally, because, as you may know, tuition is heinously high and breaking people under heaps of debt. And Ontario has the highest fucking tuition fees in Canada dammit.

Right, so downtown with my new orange haired friend, and I'm carrying my coat, a drop fees placard, a foam hand flippin' the bird with "F**k Tuition Fees" written on it, and my empty Timmies coffee cup. The coffee cup was blocking me from putting on the foam hand....

"You'd better throw that out," says my orange haired friend, "It's hindering your fingering."

I turned to her and starred for a solid few seconds.

"That's ok," says I. "I shall compensate with my mouth."

And I put the cup in my mouth. And carried it.


So there you go. I laughed my ass off and thought it was a genius moment.

I talk. I listen.

Have I mentioned yet that this year is infinitely less crap than last year? The crap is so much lesser, I might even venture to turn that pessimistic statement around and say that this year rocks ever so much more than last year. But that would imply that first year had anything at all that rocked about it, which it didn't.

Anywho. My least favourite thing about this year - other than the midterms, the deadlines, the essays and so on - is all the interviewing I have to do. I have to interview people all the time for assignments, but it's not the speaking to people I don't know, the asking awkward questions, or even the points in the interview when I forget what exactly I'm trying to say that are the worst aspects of being a journalism student - it's playing back the recordings of my interviews that I hate.

I can't stand hearing my own voice. I hear myself speaking to people and I think why does anyone like me? I sound like the biggest dumb ass to ever grace the planet.

halleluuuuiaaaaaaaa glory be.

Journalism Prof is my new most favourite person for giving us a week extension on our huge, ginormous, stupid, spiteful assignment. It doesn't quite make up for the fact that he assigned it in the first place, but at this point, it comes pretty damn close.

Songofthe.....

I totally just updated the so-called "Song of the Week" (very, very big mistake to have put a time period on it, I should probably just call it "Song of the _____") after a month and a half of forgetting about it.

For this next undetermined amount of time the songs shall be My Manic & I and Cross Your Finger/Crawled out of the Sea by Laura Marling. She gets two songs because I am currently obsessed (majorly) with her album "Alas I Cannot Swim" (and have been for the past at least two months). I had to order it from Gloucester, UK.

She is amazing, and worth so much more than the 4$ of shipping I had to pay to get her album. Actually, when I think about it, it was really cheap to get the disc. It was about 12$ (Canadian) all told, which is probably less than I would have paid for a CD in a store. I don't understand how they made any money at all.


Once, she was the opening act for Neil Young while he was touring in the UK. How I would have killed to be at that show.


Speaking of shows, I went to see Metric again recently. God, they're so frweakifing amazing. And I would marry Emily Haines anyday of the week. Except on a Monday. Mondays suck. Or a Wednesday really, cause that just seems like an extremely awkward day for a wedding... right in the middle of the week.

Anyways, I had to cart my 15 year old bro and his four really tall friends there in the minivan. I felt so cool, you have no idea. I think I almost ran a car off the highway because all I could see when I tried to look out the back window was heads of teenage boys. And then on the way back from the concert, half of them were high. That was a joy and a half to deal with....

Me: "Ok John, where do you live?"

Boy Voice: "Turn left!"

Different voice: "NO! Stop here!"

Third Voice: "John's homeless bahahah."

Some other Idiot Voice: "Right. Beside that school over there! In the field."

So, ya. Dumb. But it was worth it to see Metric.

And again speaking of shows, I have tickets to LADY GAGA! I bought one for me, one for my little 11 year old brotha. It's a surprise for his birthday and he doesn;t know yet! With a brother like him, I almost don't feel bad that I don't have a sister.


If you never noticed before, my taste in music is quite eclectic.

NotAlice out.

Gay Ol' Time

Overheard whilst I eavesdropped on a girl talking to avoid doing mountains of work:

"It's been eight months! That's like.... two years in lesbian time. I'm just taking it one day at a time."

Awesome, so if you want to calculate how long your relationship has lasted, in lesbian years, you just need to do this simple conversion: multiply the length in straight years by three.

Hmm.... I wonder if it's like cat years and the conversion factor gets smaller as years go by.

No no... I'm pretty sure the conversion factor would get exponentially larger as years pass. Yes, definitely.

I am tired. Hear me Snore!

Hello all. Remember me? The one who writes this blogge.... or doesn't these days. Just wanted to say:

Damn exams to hell.

I have a mid-term tomorrow. And the next day.

So obviously I am writing a post, when I should be studying. Erg I make myself so mad.

What has happened done recently? Not much. A bus driver drove past me whilst I stood in front of the door practically crying to be let on. I was published in my uni newspaper. It I turned 19 somewhere between this post and the last one. It snowed today.

And I am slowly headed towards a breakdown. But it's cool. I've always (and have probably mentioned this before) wanted to experience a padded room.

Family invaded my house over Thanksgiving (which was last weekend, because I'm in Canada, and that's how we roll. Also, pilgrims and Native peoples would never have a picnic in November, because that would be stupid and in the snow). Usually only one or two relatives trek on over to O-town for spankgive'r, but this year hoards and fleets of them came from all over the place to take care of my mother who just had surgery to get some cancer out of her neck (really, it was her thyroid that was taken out, along with some lymph nodes). We had a whole smorgasbord of family here.

So with the family everywhere and going to the hospital and cleaning for guests and being sick (with what I'm gonna say was SWINE FLU. runn for yourr livvvesss ahhh...) and making sure I was a proper fucking host to all the relatives all around (and I love them to death, but I am so goddam busy with school you have no idea, and they are reeeaallly distracting) in the absense of my mother, I haven't gotten any school shit done, I haven't done readings, I haven't been to all my classes, and I can't even manage to write a proper sentence (see this one is going to be the run-on sentece to beat all run-on sentences) and now I have a mid-term tomorrow that I didn't even realize I had until yesterday. So fuck.

That is why I'm headed for a breakdown.

Now I shall study.

Whoa. Hello.

I am a bad blogger.

I will write a real post soon, so as not to be such a lame person.