Friday, April 28, 2006

Hoppin' Homos Batman!

You know when you see something or someone that you just can't tear your eyes away from?

You really want to, but you just can't seem to stop staring?

That happened to me today, but it wasn't pleasant to look at. Not even a little.

I'm working hard in the store, minding my own business, when I look across the hall at Le Chateau. Let it be known that I usually love looking over there.

For research and professional purposes only.

Today unfortunately, something other than pretty tank tops and shiny things caught my eye.

It was someone who closely resembled a cross between Don Johnson circa 1984, George Michael circa 1992, and maybe Keith Urban. (Who I know only because I love gossip mags and websites, and know that he is marrying Cruiseazy's ex-wife.)

Don Michael Urban was wearing a turquoise top (one which can only be described as a blouse), a pair of flared bottom jeans (which were extremely distressed, grate holes, faded in all the right places, and so extremely tight on the thigh that I thought I would either see cock and balls, or pull a hamstring), a puka shell choker-style necklace, multiple silver rings, an earring, and shiny shoes.

Very shiny shoes.

DMU was also in possession of the latest hairstyle.

For women.

If it weren't for the lightning shaped sideburns, I would have guessed that he was sporting a weave. These sideburns were precision cut. We're talking, he must have taken a nose hair trimmer and gotten so close to the mirror, (Which I'm guessing he does anyway) that he could see every hair follicle and root.

A recent purchase of "Frost & Glow" must have been on his grocery list, because this guy was frosted to the tips. Holy Feck. He had a full-blown Farrah on the go. Flips, wings, frost, and just the right amount of mousse.

My hair has NEVER looked so good. Ever. I felt like Rumplestiltskin compared to this beauty.

Now that I'm on the hair, let's picture something together shall we? If you're good, you might even want to try it at home...

Slow motion now...

Look to the left.

Slowly bring your head to face the front.

Put your chin against your chest in the process.

Flip to the right while arcing your head up.

You have all just done the ultimate hair flip. Be proud of yourselves. Applaud yourselves. Give yourselves a cookie.

You can up your pace if you think that you can pull it off.

If you're talented, REALLY talented, you might even want to try it from right to left.

I promise you, it CAN be done.

I've never in my entire 25 and a half years experienced anything quite so gay.

And...... Scene.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Holy Mackerel!

Just a couple of funny anecdotes to keep you coming back...

Saturday past. Long day, not real busy. Loads of rotten hooligans, senior citizens, and young mothers. The day goes as planned, helping customers, taking breaks, listening to screaming children and swearing young ones.

All day, as you may know, the poor woman/girl/man/boy that is sitting at the information booth/guest services area of the mall are announcing things.

"Joe Blow, please return to the tire department at Sears, you forgot your baby."

"Sally Mae, please return to La Senza, you left your furry thong."

"Will the woman who just purchased the extra large condoms and the Preparation H please return to Shoppers."

"Would the person with license plate BLO-ME please return to your car, you left your headlights on."

And so on and so forth...

Well, this particular Saturday afternoon, things on the P.A front were pretty normal until about 4 pm. This is the announcement that was heard mall round.

"Anita Beaver, please come to guest services... ANITA BEAVER."

It should be said that I have a perverse mind. Extremely perverse. But still.. Come on!! Anita Beaver??

As soon as the poor woman, who clearly got duped into announcing this utterly hilarious name, was finished saying this over the loud speaker, I whipped my head around to see if anyone else heard this.

It appeared that I was the sole witness to the hilarity. I look to the employee that was working with me. She did not respond. In the least. I was devastated.

Said employee is also in her 60's so I didn't think that she would actually get the importance of such an announcement. But still. I thought maybe, just maybe, she would get it. No such luck.

Since I had nobody to share this moment with, I hurried to the back room and sent a quick text message to my brother, who I knew would get the joke.

He didn't get the joke. He didn't even get the message. All that typing I did on the tiniest keypad imaginable. I was too lazy to send it again later, so I called my mom.

At least she laughed. I'm convinced that I get my sick sense of humour from her.

Amen. Thanks Mom! You make me proud.


I'm such a slacker!

I'm sorry! I'll be back soon!!

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Pizza and Hairballs

Yesterday afternoon while I was at work, I got an exciting yet disturbing call from the man. He called to see if I wanted him to make me a pizza that would be ready when I got home from work at 9.

I jumped at that offer.

Free homemade pizza? That I don't have to make myself?

Hell Yes.

So I proceed with my evening as normal, quietly excited at the fact that I am going to get a nice warm meal after work. (This isn't a regular occurrance if you are wondering...)

The pizza eating passes without incident.

That is until about 25 minutes after the eating has subsided.

The man turns off the lights in the living room (Which is where we eat) so that the television watching can be done just so. We watch the first little bit of Lost, and all of a sudden, I hear:

"Hmm.. What's this?"

A few moments pass.

"Eww, what IS this?"

A few more seconds pass.

I turn on the light and look over to the source of the "Eww-ing".

The man is holding in his hand a real life, genuine, cat-made furball. We're talking fur, the loogie he may or may not have horked not long before the pick-up was made, and other various cat rejections.

I wish someone other than me could have been there to witness the face that was made.

It was a fine blend of the following:

Possible Vomit Scrunch Face
Impending Tears
Nostril Flare
Half Smile (probably because he thought it wasn't real)
And finally,
Possible Vomit Scrunch Face

I looked over at him, contemplated bursting into laughter, and instead, sympathetically offered my open palm for the discarding of the furball.

When I came back, the man said something that no person should ever say, no matter what the circumstances, or what may or may not have been on the floor at any given time.

"I thought it was cheese."

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all for the "Five Second Rule", but cheese?


Especially if it has come off the floor.

When you own a cat.

Who sheds alot.

Enough said.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Holy Crap Balls

I woke up this morning with the intention of making myself a delicious sandwich for work, and leaving on time.

I made the sandwich. Not without problems though. First, the bread that was left had a hole in it. How? I don't know. I made due with what I had though, and continued to prepare my delicious sandwich.

I go to the fridge to get my condiments next. I got the mayo, turkey, cheese, and mustard. Everything was going smoothly. I got the mayo, turkey, and cheese on without incident. When it came to putting on the mustard however, I had some problems.

I shook the bottle. As you do. Usually. I thought.

I should have known something was amiss by the clunk sound that eminated from said mustard bottle, but alas, I proceeded. I turned it over to face the bread.

I squeezed.

I wondered where it was.

It came.


And spray-like.


All over my beautiful navy blue, perfectly worn in, shouldn't have been wearing it in the morning Roots hoodie.

I didn't notice until I came home today after work and put it on (As I usually do) and the boy asked me what was all over me. I then looked down and noticed that I had tarnished my beauty.


Here's to hoping that tomorrow's lunch preparation goes more smoothly.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Feckitty Feck

The day started with a groan and a shock. I rolled over and looked at the clock and saw that it said 11:30.

Which was 10:30.

Which was confusing.

First, I thought that I had to work and that I was going to be late.

Second, I was upset that I might have to get out of bed to go to said place of employment.

I quickly came to realize that I was neither late, or in danger of having to go to work.

Once I was perfectly clear on the fact that the time had gone ahead last night and that I was in no danger of having to leave my apartment, I was able to go on with my day.

I did approximately 5 loads of laundry, 1 extremely full load of dishes, I gave the tub a good scrub, and I made supper. It was delicious if I do say so myself.

The cat and I also had a photo shoot. It was quite fun. He's rather photogenic and loves to pose. (Not really, but it looks like it. )

I played some online poker with my mother, promptly gave her most of the money that I had won in the past couple of days and am now back at 0. Zero. Nada.


The countdown to work tomorrow is on. I am not looking forward to it. I imagine it will be filled with such wondrous things as saggy boobs, cranky seniors, and lurky men in coveralls who walk by the bathing suit lightbox and smile.