Saturday, February 28, 2009

Watchmen Comes Out In Six Days. EVERYBODY FREAK THE FUCK OUT!

No, I still haven't read Watchmen. Yes, I probably should before I inevitably see this movie. Gimme some damn time, bitches!

Friday, February 27, 2009

Guess Who Isn't A Total Fucking Moron?


Yup, I got my Cal test back today. 78.3%! That's a C+! Can you fucking believe it? I didn't fail miserably like I thought I would. Woooo!

But now I'm scared. My doing well in math is in no way, shape or form compatible with the universe. If I can do well in Math, who's to say the Laws of Physics can't suddenly just look at each other and say "You know what? Fuck it. Let's change things up for shits and giggles". I am genuinely worried that my doing well in Calculus will result in the universe as we know it ceasing to exist. I would recommend stocking up on non-perishable food items and firearms.

Anyways, while I fashion myself a tinfoil hat and prepare for the endtimes, here's a look at my current level of unadulterated horror. MUSTACHE!

Thursday, February 26, 2009

I Was Productive Today. Someone Must Die.

Glurg. Glurg I say. Today didn't start off too bad. I spent the morning in bed watching Buffy and leftover chicken. Afterwards, I went out and saw Confessions of a Shopaholic. Shut up. Pierre made me watch it. It's all his fault. Blame him! I know I said I was going to start listening to Dustin again, but I can make an exception every now and again, right? Or maybe this is just because I saw Pierre sans pants, whilst Dustin's Bermuda Triangle remains a mystery. Terribly sorry.

Anyways, point is, the movie wasn't that bad. It's not like the sky will open up and Oscars will rain from the heavens, but still, it was worth the ten bucks I paid to see it. Although the ending made shit sense. "Well, she's trying to get her life back on track after it was nearly destroyed by compulsive shopping. How do we fix her life up?" "...More Shopping!" "Brilliant!" Also, if I see one more goddamn wedding dress, I will jab a pair of Manolo Blahnik strappy-sandles through my eyes, heel first.

The fuckery started when I got home and checked out the new comments, only to notice that someone tampered with my music player. Y'all know me by now, when the fuck would I ever have The Fucking Pussycat Dolls on my player? Either someone dropped the ball over at Project Playlist, or someone's fucking with the blog. Uh-Oh?

Anyways, more fuckery occured as one of my superfuckinglazy co-workers took her third consecutive "Sick" Day. Guess who had to cover for her, as per usual? It also doesn't help that the waiters who DID show up were complete and total fucktards. Case in point: I had two waiters and one waitress come up and simultaneously ask me if I could break a hundred dollar bills (I couldn't). Then I had one of them punch in a take-out without telling me, pocketed the money, so I spent an additional twenty minutes looking for my missing moolah. Fun. And to think, I missed kickboxing AND a tanning appointment for this.

Oh well, enough complaining. Pretty soon, I'll be off to better things, but for now, I have pillow to cuddle and some Buffy to watch. I also have Cameron Marshall following me on Twitter, which is several different kinds of awesome. I'm doing a happy dance right now, because not only do I have a gay porn star following me, but he also has an IQ of 120+ out of 140. Basically, never play Trivial Pursuit against him, because you will lose. Hard.

To play you out, here's Adele live with Chasing Pavements, which I may or may not have listened to twenty times straight. Cheers!

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Five Fictional Freebies

I know I've already done a Five Freebies list, but I decided to do one about characters from TV shows and movies. Not sure why. Guess I was just really bored. So here it is, the five fictional freebies.

Tony Stark (Iron Man, played by Robert Downey Jr.)
God almighty, RDJ was the sex in this movie. He's sexy, richer than God, and he has a nifty suit, which is always a big plus.

Angel (Buffy The Vampire Slayer, played by David Boreanaz)
I consider Angel to be the quintessential boyfriend. He's sexy as hell, wise, and will quite literally snap the neck of anyone who dares lay a finger on you.

Ned, The Pie Maker (Pushing Daisies, played by Lee Pace)

First off, the man couldn't be more adorable if he were made of puppies. Second, he can bring you back from the dead. And third, he makes pies! Delicious pies!

Captain Hammer (Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog, played by Nathan Fillion)

Not only is he played by the pants-droppingly gorgeous Nathan Fillion, but he does the weird stuff in bed, AND he can use his penis as a hammer, which is always a sign of good things to come.

Elliot Wilhelm (Be Cool, played by Dwayne Johnson)
What's better than The Rock? A gay version of The Rock! Granted, he likes musicals, but when you look like him, it's tolerable.

And now for the switchlist!

Georgia Lass (Dead Like Me, played by Ellen Muth)
I just love George. She's whip-smart, has a razor-sharp tongue, and she's a grim reaper who leads people's should into the after life. Cushy job, huh?

Clementine Kruczynski (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, played by Kate Winslet)
You know a woman is serious girlfriend material when you're willing to travel through your own mind with her in order to save the memories of your time together. That, and she has pretty hair.

Liz Lemon (30 Rock, played by Tina Fey)
Oh Tina Fey...Liz is pretty much hands down the funniest and most sympathetic character currently on TV. It also doesn't hurt that the girl is sexy as hell.

Willow Rosenberg (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, played by Alyson Hannigan)
I'm only into the fourth season of Buffy so far, but I am honestly in love with Willow. She can cats spells, stab people with pencils, and she's so adorkably cute, it makes me squee with delight!

Charlotte "Chuck" Charles (Pushing Daisies, played by Anna Friel)
*Sigh* She's adorable, she's perky, she's selfless, and she fully believes in the power of a good hug. And yes, for those of you keeping track, she is the second dead girl on my list. I should probably see a shrink.

Anyways, that's all for now. TO play you out, here's something for you, Rusty, to keep you motivated with your Wii Fit, and also so that you don't chuck the controller at the screen (Warning: Probably NSFW, and supergay). Cheers!

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Yay For The John Hughes Basket Cases!

Hey all. So after two weeks, we finally scored a tower and a working wifi connection. Anyways, since I'm terribly lazy, here's a brand-spanking new facebook meme courtesy of Fig and Skitz about High School!

Did you date someone from your school?

For an all-boys school, my dating pool was really more of a puddle. Granted, it still is, but whatevs. Although, to be fair, it was a Catholic school, so that may have had something to do with it.

Did you marry someone from your high school?


Did you car pool to school?

No, I took the train everywhere. It was cramped and it smelled like cat pee. Awesome.

What kind of car did you have?

I had no car. Sad. But I biked everywhere! Oh, wait, that's even sadder.

What kind of car do you have now?

A bitchin' blue Pontiac Sunfire, official car of broke-ass college slackers.

Its Friday night...where are you now?

Work. Then home. I'm pleasantly quaint (Read, boring).

It is Friday night...where were you then?

At work. Still. Fuck quaint, I'm boring.

What kind of job did you have in high school?

Take-out server.

What kind of job do you do now?

Still a take-out server. I'm going places, I tells ya.

Were you a party animal?

Not by a long shot. If I was partying, who would be taking care of my brothers? Everyone knows parenting is for the middle child, right?

Were you considered a flirt?

Nah, I was the only gay in the village. Who was their to flirt with?

Were you in band, orchestra or choir?

Let Me think...No, no and no.

Were you a nerd?

I got 80's, but that's about as far as my nerd-streak goes.

Did you get suspended or expelled?

Nope. I was quiet and boring. No trouble-making or fun-having for me.

Can you sing the fight song?

Despite having a faculty full of god-wads, our fight song was super gay. I mean really, literally gay. Massive amounts of Vodka have erased all but the last line, which was "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" I'm pretty sure the writers were compensating for having disappointing wangage.

Who was/were your favorite teacher(s)?

Mr. Moore. He was the best teacher ever, but he was fired his first year for being gay. For those of you keeping score at home, religious beliefs > Human Rights.

Where did you sit during lunch?

In the bleacher thingies on the side of the cafetorium. I was a book worm, so I read during my lunch.

What was your school mascot?

Blissfully, we had none. Dodged a bullet on that one, huh?

If you could go back and do it again, would you?
Are you fucking kidding me? Not even if you paid me.

Did you have fun at prom?

Long story: I got massively drunk off of a bottle of Grand Cosmo and spent the entire evening smashed off my ass in front of all my teachers. Short story: Fun!

Do you still talk to the person you went to Prom with?
Of course! She's one of my best friends, and we even work together.

Are you planning on going to your next reunion?
Yes, but only to fuck with the faculty. They are reeeeeeeally gonna regret fucking with me behind my back and making vague threats towards my younger brothers to shut me up.

Do you still talk to people from school?
A few, but I've cut ties with most of them anyways.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Liveblogging Of The 81st Annual Academy Awards

8:00 – Hello and welcome, dear readers, to the Notes on Bar Napkins Oscar Liveblogging! Get ready for four straight hours of self-congratulatory circle jerking. First up on the Red Carpet: Kate Winslet. So far, so good.

8:03 – Tim Gunn is interviewing Amy Adams, who looks both dazzling and like a strong wind may blow her away. Also, there’s a horse on the Red Carpet, and it- Oh, wait, that’s just Sarah Jessica Parker. My bad.

8:05 – Brangelina are on the Red Carpet. They look flawless as usual. I kinda hate them.

8:09 – Valentino is up now. Fucker looks less like he shoud be making dresses and mor like he should be making chocolate for Willy Wonka. And here’s Danny Boyle backed by the entire cast of Slumdog. Holy snap that’s a lot of kids.

8:11 – Mickey Rourke is talking about his dog. I’m actually a little teary eyed. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. *Sniffed*

8:13 – RDJ MUTHAFUCKAHS! The sight of him makes me picture massive amounts of sweaty, dirty fucking. Bow-Chicka-Wow-Wow.

8:15 – Miley Cyrus is here now. Time to break out the Jack Daniels. Ohhhh, it burns so good going down. Here’s Anne Hathaway to make it all better, though.

8:23 – I’m not really sure what the fuck Jack Black is doing at The Academy Awards, but he’s drunk, so carry on, you magnificent, shit-faced bastard.

8:27 – Well, like a pillow over your face while you sleep, The Red Carpet Ceremony is finally, blissfully over. On to the actual awards!

8:30 – So...Many...Crystals. And here’s Wolverine, looking particularly dapper. My god, this is self-congratulatory. He’s about two seconds away from walking into the audience and eating Meryl Streep’s Hot Pocket.

8:33 – Now we’ve got some music going. Awesome!

8:34 – Now he’s going after Benjamin Buttons. This isn’t all that funny though.

8:35 – Oh thank god, Anne Hathaway’s onstage. Yay! Damn, Girls got pipes. Now she’s throwing up the peace sign. Okay, NOW we’re getting somewhere. Anne Hathaway makes everything better.

8:38 – It’s over now. Aside from the wonderful, wonderful Anne, that was kind of a letdown. My god, he’s actually riding Frank Langella like a fucking cowboy. All of a sudden, that joke about Meryl Streep’s vagina seems vaguely prophetic.

8:43 – The first award of the night: Best Supporting Actress. Apparently, they needed five of them to read one goddamn envelope. Tilda Swinton looks like a corpse, and Goldie Hawn’s boobs look like they’re about to plop off.

8:47 – Penelope Cruz takes the award. I kinda wish Amy Adams won, but I’m more disturbed by the fact that it took four minutes and five Oscar-winning actresses to announce it. Seriously: Witef?

8:53 – Oh my God, TINA FEEEEEEEEEEEEY! Steve Martin seems to be trying to make amends for Pink Panther 2, to which I say: Nice try, but you’re gonna have to do better than that.

8:56 – God almighty, I could listen to Tina read the fucking phone book. And the award goes to Milk! Eeee! I loved In Bruges, but yay for Milk! And he’s wearing the White Ribbon! Also Eeee!

8:58 – Oh my God, he’s dedicating it to the little gay kids. I’m seriously full-on crying now.

9:01 – Surprise surprise, Slumdog Millionaire takes the award for Best Adapted Screenplay. Although I have to admit, Q&A itself was a pretty good book.

9:03 – Jennifer Aniston and Jack Black are on stage. Why that is is perfectly beyond me. I think between the two of them, their greatest achievement is an MTV Movie Award, and you can pretty much find those in cereal boxes.

9:06 – Wall-E takes the award for best animated picture to the shock and awe of absolutely fucking no one. I still think it should have been nominated for Best Picture too. Come on, if you bastards can nominate a fucking Talking Pig Movie, you can throw a bone to Wall-E.

9:09 – This may be my Quebecois heritage speaking, but I visibly cringed every time these two putz-bots pronounced La Maison en Petits Cubes as LAH MAYZON ON PE-TEET COOB.

9:15 – Daniel Craig and Sarah Jessica Parker are announcing the nominees for Art Direction. This is so bland, I can’t even come up with something funny to say, although this may be because I’m cripplingly talentless. Either/or, really.

9:20 – The Duchess wins the award for Costume Design, which kinda begs the question: Am I the only one who has never heard of The Duchess here?

9:23 - The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons wins its first award. Jared, if you’re reading this, now would be a good time to get the scarf out. /inside joke.

9:25 – Robert Pattinson and Amanda Seyfried are onstage to discuss love. Say what you will about Twilight, but Robert Pattinson is fucking charming as hell. There, I said it. Suck on it.

9:30 – I know we’re only an hour in, but my GOD is Hugh Jackman ever a boring host.

9:32 – Ha! Ben Stiller is out in full Joaquin Pheonix beard. He kinda looks like Cartman in that episode of South Park where he glues Scott Tenorman’s pubes to his face.

9:34 – And here we have Slumdog’s second win of the night. Yay? Oh fuck it, I’m bored as hell. I’m cracking open the Jack Daniels.

9:38 – Oh thank you, Jessica Biel. You’re stupid fucking dress has filled me with enough vitrol to get me through the rest of this high-class reach-around you call and Awards Show. Jesus Christ, you look like you tried to stuff your boobs with toilet paper and fucked up royally.

9:43 – Out of all the Seth Rogen movies they could have used this year, the picked Pineapple Express over Zack and Miri Make a Porno? Bah.

9:47 – Seth Rogen cracks up trying to pronounce the name of a German movie that I won’t even attempt to spell. All I know is, it’s called Toyland in English.

9:52 – So apparently, Mamma Mia grossed more in Europe than Titanic. Both movies suck pretty hard, but at least the former has Amanda Seyfried and Meryl Streep. Point is, this gives Hugh Jackman an excuse to break out into a musical number, which in turn gives me an excuse to break out into binge-drinking.

9:55 – Not only did Beyonce just start singing At Last, but it got cut off by Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens. Somewhere out there, Etta James is putting a hit out on Ms. Knowles.

10:02 – Once again, it apparently takes five people to read the name off of a goddamn envelope. Also, it just dawned on me that this is the second time Philipe Seymour Hoffman has been nominated in the same acting category as Heath Ledger. Weird.

10:07 – Heath Ledger wins it. His father, mother and sister accept the award on his behalf. This without a doubt the most well-deserved award ever given out. May he rest with a sound mind and soul.

10:12 – I believe we’ve just heard our first Bleep of the night. Sweet.

10:14 – Bill Maher is apparently a bit peeved that Religulous didn’t get nominated for Best Documentary. He thinks it’s because it was about religion, when in reality, it was because it was a fucking shitty movie. Deal with it, bitch. Man On Wire takes it. Word.

10:17 – Smile Pinki wins Best Documentary Short-Subject. The weird think is, I know someone whose name is Pinki. Awesome name, huh?

10:25 – That tiny moaning sound you may have just heard was Michael Bay cumming in his pants.

10:27 – Aw, what the fuck? Benjamin Buttons won another award? And it beat out both The Dark Knight AND Iron Man. Fuck it. Send the scarf Jared. Just send the fucking Scarf.

10:28 – Wow, Will Smith fucking sucks at announcing. But at least The Dark Knight wins this one.

10:31 – Seriously, would someone PLEASE explain to me the difference between this award and the last one? Sound editing, Sound Mixing...Hell, even the nominees are EXACTLY THE SAME.

10:33 – Oh, for fuck’s sake...He’s doing a fourth award? GET THE FUCK OFF STAGE, BITCH!

10:35 – Slumdog wins yet another award for throwing a whole bunch of colourful, flashy shit on a screen. Sorry, I’m just pissed Milk is getting shut out. Suck it.

10:41 – Eddie Murphy is onstage handing a lifetime achievement award to Jerry Lewis. Sweet Jesus, it’s like The Hadron Collider just went haywire and a blackhole of comedic suck has just opened up.

10:50 – Alright, the music awards are upon us. Suddenly, I actually give two shits about The Oscars again.

10:53 – Zac Efron and Alicia Keys are onstage to present the award for Best Original Score. This is the equivalent of putting a glass of fine wine next to a bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Slumdog takes it.

10:57 – What the fuck? No M.I.A.? I’ve just come down with what can only be described as the worst case of musical blue balls ever. At least John Legend is on hand to cure me with his Nutmeg. Oooooh, his sweet brown nutmeg.

10:59 – I’m not sure what is name is, but the guy in the black looks alarmingly uncomfortable. Come on, man. I’m gay and even I take the stick out of my ass every once in a while.

11:01 – Slumdog takes it for Jai Ho. I kinda liked O Saya better, but still, this was a pretty balls out terrific song. I’m still pissed at the lack of M.I.A. in this bitch. That girl is fierce.

11:05 – I think it was Genny that tipped me off about the story about how Hugh Jackman was going to do the entire ceremony drunk and naked. It’s been two and a half hours, and I still don’t see any Wolverine Peen. What a fucking gyp.

11:08 – A Japanese movie called Discipline won the award for Best Foreign Film. I think that means that all the good awards are up next. Yay!

11:10 –We’re on to the memoriam moment of the show. Scratch out that last “Yay!” and replace it with a “Sob”. Rest In Peace to all.

11:18 – Reese Witherspoon is here doing her best Jerry Blank impression to announce the winner of Best Director.

11:20 – Danny Boyle wins it for Slumdog. While I may have liked Milk more, Slumdog was a brilliant movie, and he deserves it.

11:26 – OH COME ON! THIS IS JUST AN INORDINANT AMOUNT OF PEOPLE TO ANNOUNCE A WINNER! Numbers aside, Marion Cotillard looks stunning. Come on, Hathaway...

11:30 – AAH! Oh, wow, that thing is actually talking. Holy fuck, I thought that woman was a mannequin.

11:32 – Yay for Kate Winslet! As much as I wanted Anne Hathaway to win it, Kate really did deserve the Oscar. “It’s not a shampoo bottle now!” Love her. She’s so excited to be up there, it’s just wonderful.

11:37 – Oh God, now it just sounds like a bad joke. “How many actors does it take to open an envelope? Five. That is all.” If you think this is sad, you should see them try to open a jar of pickles.

11:43 – YES! YES! OH SWEET HOLY MOTHER OF GODTOPUS YES! As wonderfully layered as Mickey Rourke’s performance was, yay for Milk!

11:45 – Sean is now taking down the Westboro Baptist Church and Prop 8 supporters down a peg. Fuck all of you pieces of shit!

11:47 – FINALLY. The nominees for best picture. About damn time. And look; it only takes ONE person to announce it! Okay, I’m done with that.

11:52 – Slumdog Millionaire wins the award for Best Motion Picture. Okay, I liked Milk better, but still, it’s nice to see a feel good movie finally take it.

11:55 – It’s over! It’s finally, finally over! Oh wow, aside from Sean Penn’s win, this has been painfully boring. And as sexy as Hugh Jackman is, my god is he ever a dreadful host. Bring back Jon Stewart, dammit!

Well, I wish I could say it was fun, but I’d be lying. Oh well, I got to extol a heaping helping of snark, and that makes me happy. Anyways, until next year, cheers!

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Kill, Fuck Or Marry #4

Alright, it's Sunday, so you know the drill: Kill, Fuck or Marry. Aaaaaaaaaaand go.

1. You're given a list three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Brad Pitt, George Clooney or Johnny Depp?

Amanda Bynes, Hilary Duff or Kat Dennings?

Dane Cook, Andy Samberg or Wyatt Cenac?

Emily Blunt, Anna Friel or Isla Fisher?

Steve Cruz, RJ Danvers or Damien Crosse?

Eliza Dushku, Megan Fox or Rose McGowan?

Lee Pace, Ryan Gosling or Luke Wilson?

Once again, leave your answers in the comments below.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

It's The Eye Of The Tiger, It's The Cream Of The Fight*

I learned something about myself today: I am incredibly turned on by getting into a fight. The story behind it goes as such: It was my third kick-boxing class today, so having finally figured out (for the most part anyways) how to punch, block and walk around, we started practicing how to do all of these simultaneously.

For those of you who think boxing is a dumb sport, HOLY FUCKING HELL IT IS NOT. Seriously, do you have any idea how much thinking goes into it? You're moving around, and you have to figure out what the best way to block is, and what you're next to move is, and you have to pull all of this out of your ass on a moments notice while another guy tries to beat you until you can't get off the floor. It's a violent sport, but it's a pretty fucking cognitive one as well.

Anyways, I'm not sure what it was, but...oh, how can I sugarcoat this...I was having difficulty in the crotchal region. Difficulty in the sense that the damn thing refused to go the fuck down. I mean sure, the guy I was practicing with was pretty hot and I totally wouldn't be opposed to doing the seven-inch pole vault on him, but it wasn't just that. Throwing punches at him, dodging his...Not sure why, but I think I enjoy enjoy boxing, if you catch my drift.

Anyway, literal bloodlust aside, a couple things: Number one, I'm looking into a tattoo, but I can't seem to find the right one. I'm looking for a tribal-style heart to get tattooed on my chest, so if anyone can find or make a good design, it would be much appreciated. Number two, I'll be live-blogging the Oscars tomorrow, and there will also be a new KFM up tomorrow morning too. Number three, NO, I am not saying what gave me the jitters yesterday night. You'll just have to wait a little bit to find out. For those of you who have figured it out, don't be giving it away now, ya hear? To play you out, here's Neko Case with Maybe Sparrow. Cheers!

*Yes, those are the lyrics. No, I have no idea what the fuck cream of the fight is.

Friday, February 20, 2009


I'm pretty sure I'm about to puke right now. Don't worry, I'm not sick or anything, I'm just excited. And nervous. I won't go into too many details here, because I want to keep it a secret until it officially happens, but right, all I'll say is that I just agreed to do something pretty big, all things considered. Right now, I'm excited and thrilled and pretty fucking terrified all at once. I'm shaking like a leaf and I'm pretty sure I'm about to puke. Strange how good that feels all things considered. Yay! I think...

Anyways, moving on, I'm still working on bulking up so that I can go from being two-dimensional to three. Or four if you buy into that whole "Time as a dimension" thing. Whatever. Anyways, I had a Weight Training class at eight this morning, so I managed to get a decent workout. Yes, I have a class at 8 in the morning. Why? Because I suck at making schedules, that's why.

Anyways, I managed to do a shitload of bicep dumbbell curls. I felt pretty good about myself until I looked over and saw what appeared to be a small mountain lifting weights beside me. Then I realized that it was an actual fucking person. Who knew?

I didn't actually get his name, mostly because I was afraid that if I got within arms reach of him, he would eat me. Let's just call him "The Physical Manifestation of Everything I Hate About My Body". Or Manny for short. Manny's a nice name.

Anyways, Manny was roughly my height, and about twice as big as I was. He was also doing curls using 60 pound weights, while I was doing 15 pound weights. While he beat me physical strength, I'm pretty sure I totally owned him in the Self-Loathing department. Jeremy: 1, Manny: 0. So suck on that!

Anyways, I am now seriously reconsidering my diet. Sure, my boobies are starting to fill out a little bit, but still, my muscles are still woefully small. If anyone can point me in the direction of some seriously cheap-o roids, it would be gratefully appreciated.

Anyways, to play you out, here's a video I like to call "Witef is Wrong with Japanese People?" Cheers!

Japan Makes Another Super Weird Video - Watch more free videos
Also, Hiya to new follower Figgy!

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Crash Still Sucked Donkey Balls

You might have heard of the real/fake Oscar Winners List, but if y'all want some real Oscar Spoilers, here they are: Spoilers for every movie to have ever won the Best Picture Oscar

Sorry for the lack of a real update. I've been a little busy lately. Oh well, new REAL updates soon. Sorry!

And also, Hello to Dawnsname299, The Caustic Critic, and Dr. Jared! Keep those followers coming, people! I'll start posting naked pics as soon as I hit the 50 mark!*

*(Just kidding!)**

**(Actually, come to think of it, no, I'm not)

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Crazy Book Lady

Okay, so today I realized that (A) I have a marketing test tomorrow, and (B) I still hadn't bought the friggin' book yet. Balls. Anyways, I bought a cup of Tim Hortons on my way in and ran to the bookstore so I could spend the equivalent of a second mortgage on a book I would only use for about four months.

Anyways, it doesn't really help that the damn thing is organized into what can really only be defined as the clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks. Apparently, they managed to score the same interior designer who thought up every single ring of hell. Dante himself would probably have gone apeshit in this place.

After about 20 minutes of searching, I finally found the book I was looking for on a pile in the english section. Yup, English. Honestly, it's as if they just said "Fuck it" and threw an active grenade into a book warehouse. But whatevs. The moment I picked it up, this crazy bitch comes running at me screaming "NO COFFEE IN THE BOOKSTORE!"

I probably would have laughed if I wasn't in complete shock. The way the bitch came at me, you'd think I was waving around a couple of loaded AK-47s like a pair of very deadly pom-poms and declaring Jihad on overpriced books.

But of course, Crazy Book Lady looked like she was a couple dicks short of a gangbang, so I gave her the same soothing voice I use when talking to people who are clearly off their shit. "Okay, sorry, I'm just...gonna go pay for this book. Okay? Okay." I proceeded to back off whilst she gave me crazy eyes that seemed to indicate that I would be shanked if I didn't get my flat ass out of their.

Also, on a completely unrelated note, it was Kahlua's first birthday a couple days ago. Therefore, here some gratuitous pics of my little baby girl. Cheers!

Also, Hello to new follower Lord Thundercox. BEST. NAME. EVER.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Planes, Trains and Automobiles: Ten Laws of Public Transportation

#1: Thou shalt not use the vehicle as a bathroom.

This one should really be a no-brainer, but apparently not. Have you ever seen someone pee on a bus? Pray you don’t. And I know there’s a logical reason why the metro today smelled like poop.

#2: Thou shalt not take five fucking minutes to perform buy a ticket

It’s $2.75 to ride, genius. It’s not like you’re writing a cal exam. These are calculations that the average twelve year old could pull off. There really is no excuse for this shit.

#3: Thou shalt not play your crappy music for everyone to hear

You’d think with the advent of the iPod, people would stop putting their lack of musical taste on display. Well fuck that, because that little prostitot in the back of the bus will be damned if you and everyone else on the bus isn’t being forcible ear-raped by Katy Perry.

#4: Thou shalt not talk on your cell like a phone-sex operator

I was once riding the bus home from school, and there was this guy sitting across from me telling his girlfriend to sniff her shoes and give him the dets. He then gave me the stink eye when I started giggling, like I had some nerve to laugh at him for foot fucking his girl over the phone.

#5: Thou shalt be careful with your bag

I’m not asking you to hold onto your bag for dear life, just stop whipping it around like a fucking mace. Unless you’re Buffy the fucking vampire slayer, keep that shit reigned in.

#6: Thou shalt not stand in front of the door

This one annoys me to no end. I’m trying to get off the bus here, and instead, I’m bowling over old ladies and bottle-blondes like I’m trying out for the NFL. Sit down already, bitch!

#7: Thou shalt use only one seat

There is no reason why you can’t fit your ass into one goddamn seat here. If you take a second seat, you are either (A) Morbidly obese, and there’s a good chance you might die soon, or (B) an asshole, and you SHOULD probably die soon.

#8: Thou shalt move to the back of the bus already

Seriously, there are like five million people trying to get on the bus. Move your ass to the back so that people can get in here without having to squeeze past you, ya miserable douchebiscuit.

#9: Thou shalt not carry around a fully inflated blow-up doll.

As random as this sounds, it really happened. Honestly, Pierre and Drake were riding the metro, and they saw this weird-ass motherfucker walking around with an inflate-a-date. Come on, people, it’s called your right hand. It’s a lot easier to carry around then a fuckable balloon.



‘Nuff said.

(P.S., hello to Melody, AVB and Alec!)

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Kill, Fuck Or Marry #3

Yup, it's that magical time of the week again: The Weekly Sunday Kill, Fuck Or Marry! Once again, the rules are:

1. You're given a list three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert or Steve Carell?

Amanda Seyfried, Rachel McAdams or Scarlett Johansson?

Erik Rhodes, Michael Lucas or Zeb Atlas?

Lily Allen, Kelly Clarkson or Katy Perry?

Taye Diggs, LL Cool J or Djimon Hounsou?

Ginnifer Goodwin, Amy Adams or Felicia Day?

Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles or Chad Michael Murray?

Aaaaaaaaaand leave your results in the comments.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

V-Day: Choke On It And Die

I probably should have mentioned this, but along with New Years, I also firmly despise Valentine's Day. It also didn't help that today, both my co-workers came in with cards, chocolates and rose petals. Then they asked me what I got for V-Day. Apparently, the desire to walk head-long into on-coming traffic doesn't count as a gift. Who knew?

Well, whatever. I've got a date with a bottle vodka and some old horror movies. Who needs love when you've got enough booze in your system to blind a horse? Anyways, Happy Valentine's Day! I'm going to go all Persona 3 on myself and paint the walls of my house with a festive patina of grey matter. Cheers!

Friday, February 13, 2009

TK's 15 Albums

Alright, hopefully starting tomorrow I'll be back to posting on a non-completely-fucking-ridonkulous schedule, just as soon as I can install both sympatico AND our wifi...again. Anyways, courtesy of TK, here's the meme for the top 15 Albums that influenced or changed my life. I would have done it on Facebook, but at least by posting it here, I kill two birds with one stone. Here they are, in no discernible order...

Feist – The Reminder

Emily Haines – Knives Don’t Have Your Back

Imogen Heap – Speak For Yourself

Liz Phair – Exile In Guyville

Metric – Old World Underground, Where Are You Now?

The Dixie Chicks – Wide Open Spaces

Stars – Set Yourself On Fire

Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Fever To Tell

Sigur Rós – Takk...

Wilco – Yankee Foxtrot Hotel

Broken Social Scene – You Forgot It In People

Ben Folds – Rockin’ The Suburbs

Sia – Color The Small One

Amy Winehouse – Back To Black

Elliot Smith – New Moon

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The Hammer Is My Penis

Well, thanks to all for the support! It means a lot to me that you want me to take off my clothes professionally...*sniff*

Anyways, we've been devoid of an internet connection at this house for a while, so apologies on the sporadic posting. I do what I can.

Anyways, in order to train for future career, I've taken up kickboxing, my first class being tonight. I also went out and bought some minutes at a tanning salon, which with any luck, will turn my skin tone from sad little marshmallow to sexy, delicious smore.

It also occurred to me that we are devoid of $1 bills up here in Canada, instead opting for the completely fucking ridonkulous "Looney". Honestly, that's what we call it. The $2 coins are called (I shit you not) "Toonies". Wile this doesn't seem all that important, I have the ominous feeling that some drunk American will try to stick 'em in my Hot Pocket, and I'll have to rush off stage in order to crap out coinage like a busted Slot Machine. Although maybe I'm just being neurotic again. Who knows?

Anyways, I've come up with a fifteen song list I call The Strip List, to dance to. The list so far:

Metric - Dead Disco
Erykah Badu - Honey
Nine Inch Nails - Discipline
M.I.A. - $20
Atmosphere - You
Santogold - Lights Out
Kate Nash - Shit Song
MGMT - Electric Feel
Liz Phair - Fuck And Run
The Go! Team - Huddle Formation
Kings Of Leon - Sex On Fire
TV On The Radio - Wolf Like Me
Lily Allen - Oh My God
Lykke Li - I'm Good I'm Gone
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Pin

That's it for now. To play you out, here's Wolf Hudson (Yes Marra, he of the duct tape underwear) with "I Wanna Teabag You". Cheers!

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

The Pros and Cons of Taking Off Your Clothes

Preemptive Confession Time, I suppose. Thanks to Prisco’s review, I recently finished off Diablo Cody’s Candy Girl. For those of you not following the Cannonball Run, it’s basically a memoir of Cody’s years spent stripping. Not only is it hysterically funny, but it got me thinking. Considering that I’ve been working at my dead-end job to the tune of three years now, I’m starting to think that it may be time for a career.

If you asked me a few years ago if I would ever consider the whole stripping thing, I probably would have eye-balled you as if you were wearing a tinfoil hat. But now? Well...I’m a little more open to the idea. Considering all the well-adjusted sex-making people I’ve met this past year, I’m beginning to think that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst job in the world.

In order to better analyze the situation, I went through all the pros and cons that comes with stripping. Yes, I really am so over-analytical and neurotic that I will apply a scientific method to a possible career as a go-go boy. Shazbot.
Alright, on the Pro side of things, it would for shizz be a financial step up from my current paycheck, which couldn’t sink any lower if they handed me an IOU instead. Not to mention the fact that I’d be getting paid to take off my clothes, something I usually do for free. After all, why give away the milk for free when you can sell the cow? There’s also the matter of having co-workers that aren’t either old or brain dead, as well as the pretty bitchin’ benefit of possibly being able to drink on the job.

On the Con side, there’s the matter of hiding my new career from pretty much my entire family, which, I imagine, would probably be a bitch to pull off. It also doesn’t help that I’m not exactly sex on a bun. My Canadian-with-Irish-genes skin is so pale it borders on translucent, and I have all the grace, poise and rhythm of a shit-faced giraffe on stilts, so as you can imagine, I’m a pretty shit dancer. Plus, I’d probably have to do it to some bullshit house-electro-song-thing that sounds like a toaster having angry sex with a blender.

I’m not really sure whether the fact that I would be working alongside some pretty smoking guys counts as a pro or a con. I mean, on the pro side, there’s the fact that I get to work with eye candy, but on the con side, I disappear when I turn sideways, so putting me up next to them would be like putting a deli slice of roast beef up against a steak. So it’s a toss-up.

So the score so far:


• Mad bankage on my part
• A whole lotta fun
• I get paid to be naked
• I get to work with hot guys
• No crappy co-workers
• On the job boozin’! (Possibly)


• Explaining it to the family
• I’m pale and skinny; I am the anti-sexy
• I can’t dance either. Bummer.
• Toasters having sex with blenders

Next step I usually take is to try and figure out a way to remedy the cons. In this case:


• They’ll get over it
• That’s why Godtopus invented tanning salons and steroids
• Nope, I won’t ever be able to dance. But somehow, I doubt a bunch of horned up drunks will mind.
• If I go down on the DJ, I can probably convince him to play some Metric.

So then it’s more or less decided. I’ll give myself until March Break to bulk up and tan myself until I look like an overdone ham, the fuck outta me, really. I guess I can crash at my cousin’s place for a while whilst I figure out what sort of bullshit I can feed to my parents for now. Oh well, I missed out on my opportunity to be bad in high school. I have a lot of catching up to do. Although if anybody has some tips on how to not be a shitty dancer, that would be just fucking peachey.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Yeah, You Really Must Think You're Great

I don't know if I've said this before, but at the restaurant where I work, Sundays seems to be the day where all of the dumbest people in the city descend up on us like some swarm of hungry, indecisive and very incredibly stupid zombies. Why I continue to work Sundays is beyond me.

Oh, wait, yeah, it's because I'm broke. Now I remember.

I also happen to work with two of my friends, who are both super chill and completely and utterly fucking useless. But still, it's impossible to work alone at take out, so I take what I can get, really. Unfortunately, it was Kelsie's birthday the last weekend of January, so she decided to take that weekend off, as well as the one that just passed. Awesome.

I wouldn't really mind this, is Kayla didn't call in, saying she couldn't come in because she had "Homework" (Read: A Hangover). So of course, I had to suck it up and work an entire shift alone. AND, just to top it all of, we got all of 36 orders in the space of three hours, which for a real restaurant, is pure unadulterated hell.

Take for instance, the one motherfucker who took ten goddamn minutes to decided between Chicken and Ribs, while there were three other orders I had to pack. I'm sorry, but it's Chicken and Ribs here people. It's not like I'm holding your wife and kids at gunpoint and making you decide who lives, here.

Today, I met up with Kayla and asked her how her homework turned out, and was met with the blank-eyed stare I usually get when I ask her about Quantum Physics. As I guessed, she had no homework. Only a headache. Whoopee. I bottled up the frustration and listened yet again as she regaled me with the story of her booze-filled weekend.

One thing you should probably know about me is that while I paint on a happy face when it happens, I really don't take being stood-up well. Mostly because I find it one of the most insulting things you can do to me. What, do you think I don't have any plans of my own? That I just wait by the phone waiting for Oh-So-Wonderful You to call me up and have me push aside everything I'm doing because you need me to drive you from point A to point B because you're so smashed out of your mind to walk a couple blocks?

But whatever, I'm use to it by now. In high school, while everyone was out having fun and having lives, I was off running errands and shit like that. I should just tattoo "Plan B" on my forehead and drop the formalities. I am constant Designated Driver. Awesome. The best part is, that when I finally do start having some fun with my life soon, it probably won't go over too well with them. But fuck it, I've got some fun to catch up on.

/weepy emo bullshit

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Kill, Fuck Or Marry #2

Well, it's Sunday, and you know what that means: Time for the weekly Kill, Fuck Or Marry! The rules, once again:

1. You're given a list three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Clive Owen, Jason Statham or James McAvoy?

Christina Applegate, Katherine Heigl or Elizabeth Banks?

Tom Brady, David Beckham or Rafael Nadal?

Zooey Deschanel, Natalie Portman or Keri Russell?

Wolf Hudson, Mason Wyler or Brent Corrigan?

Drew Barrymore, Maggie Gyllenhaal or Ellen Page?

Jon Hamm, Gerard Butler or Edward Norton?

Once again, leave your results in the comments.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Jeremy Feist Versus The Prostitots

So, today is the day that I've been waiting for since sometime in November: I saw Coraline. Bitchin'! What was not so bitching was that, much like adventure to see Wall-E, I've come out of it feeling pretty stabby towards the film-going public.

I probably should have seen this coming at the box office line. I was standing behind two girls, who, just when they got to the front, were immediately joined by a seven-pack trollop of skanklets. A bit harsh, but when you're wearing a skirt that looks like it could be used as a belt in February, all I can say is, get the cash up front. While I didn't so much mind the fact that they seemed to shop exclusively in the jailbait section of American Apparel, they then proceeded to take a full five minutes to count how many of them were in their group.

Once I found my seat for Coraline, and after buying a Diet Pepsi roughly the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, the Roving Hoard of Mini-Hoes set up shop behind me (in the middle of an empty theatre), and began furiously texting and giggling at frequencies that set off dogs and car alarms within a five-mile radius.

It was half-way through the previews that the bitch behind me decided to kick up her heels, planting the size 8 sole of an Aldo boot into the back of my head. I refuse to be donkey punched when some guy is ramming me from behind, so you can imagine how I took get donkey kicked by a hooker with a grade 9 education and braces.

I took ten seconds to calm myself down, remind myself that they were still kids, and that a dignified person would not stoop to screaming obscenities in the middle of a theater.

Then I remembered that I had no dignity.

It was at the point that I got up, turned around, and screamed "FUCK YOU, YA MISERABLE LITTLE BITCH!". I then hauled ass ten rows down, and resumed my viewing experience. The group of Lolita wannabes didn't say a thing for the rest of the movie (Which, by the way, WAS FUCKING INCREDIBLE).

Afterward, I ran across the street to work, which was rather quiet for a Saturday, but who am I to bitch here? It's been pretty quiet thanks to all the snow. On Friday, I actually counted how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, which is approximately 560, give or take a few licks. Sure, some owls may say it's three, but who are you going to believe: Me, or some fucking cartoon bird?

To stave off the boredom, I brought along a couple books from my current pile. Today's reading consisted of Diablo Cody's Candy Girl, and the swimsuit issue of Out Magazine (the latter of which I really do read for the articles; the speedo-clad models are just a very sexy bonus). As you can see, not exactly family friendly.

While I was off in the kitchen, packing assorted pieces of roasted livestock, a group of eight year-olds from a party wandered behind the take-out counter and began rummaging through my book bag. When I got back, I was treated to a verbal tirade from a very angry mother whose son had wandered into my PG-13 selection. I retaliated with the fact that it wasn't exactly my fault that she didn't teach her precious little klepto-kid not rummage through other people's belongings. Her rebuttal consisted of her squawking like a highly-insulted chicken. Fact of the matter is, if you don't teach your kids not to go through other people's personal shit, they deserve an eyeful of Lycra-bound cock.


Friday, February 6, 2009

The Pajiba Song

Sorry for posting two consecutive roundups here. To atone for my laziness, I wrote The Pajiba Song, to the tune of that super catchy Discover Channel Song.

The Pajiba Song

I love the Random Lists

I love the Godtopus

I love Spaghetti Cat

I love Skitz Maximus

I love Pajiba, and all the craziness

Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da

I love the Eloquents

I love the Murdertank

I love Cannonball Run

And Alabamapink

I love Pajiba, and all the bitchiness

Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da

I love the Cupcake Dog

I love Sofia’s boobs

I love Pajiba Love

I love Scathing Reviews

I love Pajiba, it’s such a fucked up place

Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da,

Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da, Boom-dee-ah-da

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Hey Jer, Watcha Playing?

Yes, another video dump. I'm bored, whatevs. So here are some vids from a series called "Hey Ash, Watcha Playing?" All I can say is, HOW THE FUCK DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS?

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

I'm So Lazy, That If I Was Walking Down The Street, People Would Point At Me And Say "Oh My God, What A Big, Lazy Ass!"

First video comes from Cracked today, which is also where I get my love of lists. Ha! Kidding! That's actually my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Watch this video while I go make sure my oven isn't on. (Bonus: Magic Squirrels!)

9 (Classy) Ways to Treat a Woman -- powered by

Ever wondered what a live-action Ms. Pacman would look like if it had a bitchin' soundtrack? Probably not, but this video is the shit. Here's the Go! Team's video for Junior Kickstart.

Sad fact of the day: Coraline is coming out in two days, and despite being better than every other movie opening this week (i.e. Pink Panther 2, Fanboys, He's Just Not That Into You...), it will still get beaten at the box office. For now, here's anoth sneak peek.

Because if yesterday's post was any indication, you folks REALLY don't like The Jonas Brothers. So courtesy of the Soup, Quarantween (IT'S MILEY!).

Finally, for those of you who aren't Pajibans, here's the wonderful and fabulous and sexy and talented and all around cool Sofia performing her hit song, Mah Boobs.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Pissing Off The Tweeners Like I'm R. Fucking Kelly

I just love making fun of The Jonas Brothers. Mostly because their fans are completely and totally off their shit and they will work themselves into a foaming-at-the-mouth frenzy should you ever be so inclined as to disagree with them in the slightest. Take for instance this conversation I had with one of my youngest brother's friends on the matter:

Me: (Passing by the TV when the Jonas Brothers come on) Ugh, why would anyone give them another dimension to be annoying in?


Me: ...I assume that was supposed to be English.

More than anything, I had to wonder what she could have possibly seen in them to begin with. I can safely rule out their music, since the high-pitched girlish screams of their fans would effectively drown out anything that even sounds remotely like music.

Which means that the only reason why they like The Jonas Brothers is because they're hot and they want to do the pre-teen nasty with them. Too bad they have purity rings, and therefore, won't be doing any Saddlebacking anytime soon (H/T to Sarah).

While I may not understand the thinking in any way, this post is really all about annoying a bunch of stupid teenagers who get way too worked up over three annoying little emos. So here it goes:

- The only reason they play their own instruments is because no self-respecting musician would actually play with them.

- They wear purity rings because they secretly suck in bed.

- Hanson was better than them. HANSON. 'Nuff said.

- They'll eventually be arrested for either possession of Crystal Meth, Kidnapping a Rent Boy, or Domestic Abuse. Or possibly a mix thereof.

- One of them got dumped by Miley Cyrus. Knowing what a cock-hungry slut she is, this takes a very special kind of suck.

- They've been nominated for the Award for Worst Band at the NME awards. So it's not just me.

- They make people EAT THEIR OWN HAIR.

Seriously, GET OVER THEM.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Kahlua And Me

There are very few ways that I enjoy being woken in the morning. So you can imagine how absolutely thrilled I was when, at six in the morning, my baby Kahlua (That would be her up in the header, about a year ago) ran into my room and proceeded to run around like someone was dangling a Dentabone in front of her. Over the course of her running, she somehow managed to strip the bottom most sheet off my bed. I got up to go put it back on, when wouldn't you know it, she tackles me directly in the face. As I said, there are very few ways that I enjoy being woken. Taking thirty-something pounds of puppy to the bridge of my nose isn't really one of them.

In order to keep myself from punting her like a furry, brown football, I took her outside to pee. This isn't as easy as it sounds, since the snow here is currently up to my belly button, so whenever Kahlua goes out into the front yard to do her thing, she sinks down until all you can see is a little brown patch moving in a sea of white snow. Yeah, so if you receive less than three feet of snow, or you live in a city where sky scrapers and constant traffic makes it impossible for snow to actually stick, allow me to inform you that the sympathy well is dry as bone.

Anyways, the moment I let her out, she proceeded to do a disturbingly elegant swan dive into the snow (considering that she's a dog, anyways). She made a beeline into the middle of a six-foot tall snow bank. Ten seconds and a foot of dug-up snow later, Kahlua came walking (kinda) back with something in her mouth and dropped it at my mouth. I looked down and realized that she had found Jon's wallet. Apparently, last week, Jon lost his wallet during a snow storm, and one of the city's snow plows must have blown it into out front yard. I'm seriously considering putting Kahlua into a class for those dogs that sniff out drugs at the airport.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Kill, Fuck Or Marry #1

Alright, so a new feature here called "Kill, Fuck Or Marry" Sundays! For those of you who have never played it, the rules for Kill, Fuck Or Marry go as such:

1. You're given a list three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Ryan Reynolds, Christian Bale or Robert Downey Jr.?

Tina Fey, Chelsea Handler or Sarah Silverman?

Feist, Neko Case or Cat Power?

Pierre Fitch, Turk Mason/Melrose/Whatevs, or Ralph Woods?

Kate Winslet, Kristen Bell or Salma Hayek?

Dwayne Johnson, Vin Diesel or Nathan Fillion?

Trent Reznor, Josh Homme or Thom Yorke?

Leave your results in the comments below.

When News Shows Fuck Up Royally

Below is the video of a report on the disappearance of Molly Bish. How do they fuck this one up? Now how you think they will...