it has a kind of rythmic flow...

for whatever reason, i just seem to be craving fruit. all fruit. ok not all. i am a slight fruit bigot. i refuse to eat pears. and cherries. altho i love cherry flavored things, i refuse to eat them raw. once, when i was small, my father took us to his friends property to pick cherries off the tree. we picked buckets and buckets full, all the while stuffing our faces with cherries. when we got all the buckets home, my mum started washing the fruit. she discovered that each shiny red orb was infected with at least 3 worms. it makes me retch to think about it. and pears. growing up, we had a pear tree in the yard. every year, when those stupid pears were ripe, we'd have to eat them. blech. i never liked them. they're stringy and fibre-y and taste like bear-ass. or what i imagine bear-ass might taste like. maybe i should ask and ass-pert, so aaron next time i see him.
maybe it's the weather thats got me all fruit hungry. perhaps i long for the hot summer nights, sitting on a patio, eating ice cold watermelon. thats right, i said ice cold. generally, as a rule, i refuse to eat cold vegetables and fruit. not because i'm a giant diva, but because i have sensitive teeth. whatever. so i won't eat things like cold carrots from the fridge, or salad - well, i really hate salad regardless. lettuce is the worst veggie in my opinion. not very filling, barely any nutritional value. oh, and no taste. maybe that tastes like bear-ass too. another question to run by aaron. where was i? oh right. ice cold watermelon. there really is nothing better. it really is one of the only things i will eat chilled. you know, fruit and veggitially speaking. i have been known to warm a salad in the microwave, just enough so its room temp. i like my sandwiches on the warm side too. and no, eff-asses, i do not heat up my ice cream. dairy and i had a falling out some time ago. i'm waiting for an apology. but the dairy is a stubborn breed. lazy too. it is quite possible we shall never speak again. it's cousin, yogurt, and i get along quiet nicely. well, except for a few minor incidents here and there. but what relationship doesn't have its issues? sigh, i effing miss u, come home baby. we can make it work. i can change, i swear i can. we can go to counseling, take supplements. maybe have a threesome with some fruit? hmm? would that make you happy? you always said i wasn't adventurous enough. and then you hooked up with that whey - that no good for nothing dirty son of an effer. how could you do that to me? and we had lil' ones at home to? how could you just do that to your family. well you know what? screw you! you can go eff yourself! eff yourself right in your effing pants. i hope you and your dirty mothereffer are quite happy effing together. watch your effing back. you'll get yours.....

it's medium not a grande you dumb mothereffer

so i tried to watch casino royale last night. what a giant piece of crap. after 30 minutes i'd had enough and went on to better and funner things. so, uh, sleeping. it lacked a certain something for me. say, dialog. maybe they spent too much money on the special effects and forgot to budget for actual words. and daniel craig is not very, uh, bond-like. which is too say, attractive in any way. at least the other 007's had a certain type of appeal, you know, a sexy appeal. daniel is just kinda lumpy. weathered. he should be playing the part of the Fisherman, in boating movies. you know, the wise and grizzled sea captain, who always has something clever or profound to say and in the end gets eaten. as he's being pulled down into the depths of the ocean, his last words, "metallica rules..." can just barely be heard above the roar of the ocean, which is his mistress as well. so i guess i see him as an old ocean humper. spreading his seed amongst the algae and uh, manatees. and then there's a huge custody battle over the half grizzled sea captain and half slimy manatee kids. its get all very dramatic. oh, and he gets eaten by a liger shark. which is really the best shark of all. part tiger, part lion and all shark. man, i would pay 10's of cents to watch that. it sounds like a effingly good movie. i bet its already being made. i seem to catch on to things mid-stream, if you will. and this morning i am esp. tired. so jebus himself could come up to me on the street and i'd just say, "no dude, i don't have any change" except that he'd be offering me the golden fleece or a picnic basket full of orgasms. so then he'd just give it to some hobo that stumbled by. eff. i always miss out on the good stuff.

everybody was christal punching

hmm, looks like i haven't my blog in a while. oops. oh well. the only thing i did this weekend was move. whee. i hate moving. hate it with a fiery passion. hate it like i hate plaid on plaid or nose pickers. or chicks that wear skirts over pants - seriously, no one can pull that off. ok, tiny adorable ESL-ers from asianic places can, but normal white folk cannot. trust me on this one. it's like whities sportin' dreads. dear god no. if i see you, i will heckle.
anyhoo, no one likes to move. it's dirty and smelly and an eff of a lot of work. plus you get those not so fun surprises. like when a removable shelf comes flying at you and the corner of it takes a chunk out of your hip. altho it left this crazy circle of veins in its wake. and a big bruise. maybe the circle of vein-ity is unrelated. perhaps i suddenly caught lime's disease. heh, lime. and i couldn't even brace myself, cause all i did to anger the effing shelf was open the effing truck door. eff-face. but its cool. karma spread the eff around, by nailing kev in the shin with a dolly. judging by his reaction, it hurt. most likely like a mother effer. i can't say if it hurt more or less than a shelf corner to the hip. hard to say. 'cause metal hurts. but a flying piece of pressboard hurtling at you unexpectedly is just no effing good. it just isn't. stupid pressboardians. exporting all their pressboard shit. making honest and cheap canadians purchase it. actually, i believe it was an ikea shelf. perhaps that this the plan o' the swedes: to make reasonably priced, moderately attractive, pressboard whatnots. have them injure people, slowly, one by effing one. and once everyone is maimed or crippled, they roll in on their fat 3-wheelers with chrome spinners and a really bitching PA system - you know, so they can heckle or catcall as they drive on by - and take over the joint. effholes. where do they get off doing that. and its always them too. shifty swedes. i think i'll go find a sedin to kick. uh, and then run away. cause i saw one of them at ikea once - i know, super funny, he was buying a giant cart full of swedish crap - and he wasn't that tall, but solid. gd it - that swede was a sturdy man shaped tube of muscle. but with arms and legs and facial hair and whatnot. you know, the usual. but muscle-y. even his eyes bulged with muscle. i bet those bad boys could bench like 180. i eff you not.

this is CAKETOWN!!!

not sure why people have to be such jerks. in my office, every thursday, we have a lunch & learn. this entails everyone gathering in one spot for a free lunch and some learning. altho we rarely learn - we generally just eat and run. in the afternoons, we get cake. why? why the eff not? everyone likes cake. i, especially, enjoy free cake. which it is. the money for the food doesn't come out of my paycheck, i don't have to put money in a jar to cover it. its free. FREE. this week we had pizza. people whined cause they didn't like the place it came from. fine. its still free. and more importantly, they still ate it. one guy, while he was waiting in line for the free pizza, ranted about how much he hated the pizza, then loaded up his plate with at least 4 pieces. super funny. its like in junior high when this girl was eating fries and in between bites kept going on about how gross they were. but she didn't bother to put them down. kept right on eating. even ate the tiny burnt bits at the bottom. yup. must have been super gross.
on to cake time. standing in the kitchen with whitecake - who ordered the cake, he's a co-op, that's his job - making tea for my free cake, crazy russian lady gets right in his face and starts ranting loudly and in a crazy accent about crappy the cake is. something along the lines of "I do not like zee cake, not enuf moose und squirrel" ok, the moose and squirrel were added in. but i someday would like to hear her mention something about moose and squirrels. anyhow, she's asking if the cake is cheaper and why we stopped ordering from the other cake place - which, BTW, was hugely expensive and not real cake, tasty, but not really cake - all the while holding a plate with a giant piece of cake on it. i was sort of surprised by her at first. whitecake seemed to be taking things in a goodnatured type of fashion. you know, laughing to cover up his obvious hate for the woman and her erroneous stance on the cake. i chime in with "well, you don't have to eat it..." and she kind of looked at me, then kept right on ranting about it. eating and ranting. but seriously she didn't buy the cake. her paycheck in no way went towards the cake. and really, no one held a gun to her damn head telling her to each the damn cake or they'd kill her and all the moose and squirrels. some people are just jerks by nature. and really, free cake is effing free cake. eat it or don't. but don't whine about something you didn't ask for and aren't being forced to eat.
now click the link the see the trailer for the movie 300 redone PG style.
link

eat at roybertito's

not entirely sure why it has to be so god damn arctic effing cold in my office. but it is. and i understand that i have a colder temperature disposition than most people, but holy hell. does the AC need to be on in march? it does not. my fingernails are blue. i almost think that if i wasn't typing this i'd be on the floor, shivering, then convulsing, then finally dying of hypothermia. altho on the plus side, i get to drink a lot of tasty tea to keep me warm. i'll get a nice cup of jasmine, and huddle around it, waiting for my fingers to unfreeze so i can continue on with my job. also then i get to use my super cute mug from starbucks. yes yes, they are the devil, but they make a mighty adorable mug. except it's really effing heavy. i kinda knew that when it was being bought. but its awesomicity cancelled out of that nonsense. but when i first filled it and tried to walk back to my desk, it almost took my arm off. luckily the cup gets so hot that it would have cauterized the wound so everything would have turned out fine. but still. how can starbucks make a mug that gets stupid hot but are unable to make a latte hotter than lukewarm? what if you had just purchased a latte. you calmly stroll outside and boom. you get mugged. instead of giving up your goods, you decide to throw the latte in his face - 'cause muggers are always dudes - and basically, the guy laughs in your face, punches you in baby maker and steals your wallet. effing starbucks. or what if you and your SO bought lattes together and he picks that moment to tell you he cheated. normal response would be to throw whatever's handy. but no one learns from a lukewarm latte. if you take anything away from my blog, i hope it's that. NO ONE LEARNS FROM A LUKEWARM LATTE.

i fought the eff....

gah. you know when you're at work, but you don't wanna be at work? and you'd rather be at home, but you can't cause its monday and therefore a work day. and tho you really want to be unemployed, you've become accustomed to a certain way of life. maybe you like to eat non-dumpster type food. maybe you like clean clothes. altho really, some people who have money neither eat good food nor wear clean clothes. whether that's for lack of washing machine know-how and food cookery or sheer laziness is up to you to judge whence you see their grimy lil' undernourished behinds cross your path. think of all the things you could be doing today. maybe you like to go outside - you could be doing that, but you're at work. maybe you like to watch tv - but you can't - work. now in the rare case that you actually like your job and wouldn't rather be anywhere else on this entire effing earth, to you i say, with the warmest of hugs and pats on the back, go eff yourselves. seriously. you are an effing a-hole. and if you ever show your effing face around me, i will punch you so hard in the eff that you will never eff your effing eff ever again. you get that? did you hear me? did you pick up what i was putting down. no one likes your kind. i bet you're also the type of person that wakes up in the morning full of life and wonderment. maybe you sing in the shower. maybe you pet your dog or kiss your SO like you mean it. maybe you need to throw yourselves off an effing cliff. the rest of world rolls out of bed, grunts at their dog/SO/kidlets and showers for 30min attempting to wake themselves up. or drown themselves. you know, just a little so you can call in drowned, thus further extending your weekend. then you could stretch out on your couch, watch some tv,and laugh at all those poor eff-sters that had to go into the office.

weekends, effing weekends

wow. you know how you get really excited for something and you plan and you plot and you think about how good it will be? and then you find out the movie doesn't come out for another effing month. gd it. i was already planning who i was gonna go with - you know rally the other ATHF troops and make an evening of it. i had decided, in my mind, where i would sit, even my movie snack of choice - which is generally the kids pack of popcorn, you get just the right amount of popcorn so your ass keeps its effing mouth shut, a little bit of pop, sometimes even in a kicky lil' collector cup and a candy treat. what could be effing better? nothing. sigh. i wish i had never found out there'd be an aqua teen hunger force movie coming out. then when it hit theatres, i'd be all, "wow, an ATHF movie! that's fantastic. i'm sure i glad i didn't know about it before hand, 'cause the anticipation might have effed me". and i really wish i had read the release date correctly. gah. my own stupidity effed me. effed me good. effed me right in the pants. like i've never been effed before. it gave me such and effing i won't be able to eff for another week. heh. ok, i'm not that mad, i just wanted an excuse to use lots of eff type phrases. i've been saving them up. and they needed to be effed out. i guess i just wanted to flex my eff muscle. or my effscle, if you will. but not to be confused with effsicle. entirely different. seriously. and in no way similar.

unicorn? not unihorn?

ahh, the sun is shining and everything is warm and fuzzy. it's spring. so you know what that means. the bees will soon be hot after that sweet, sweet bird ass. once they do it, it will be summer. as i understand it, that's how summer happens. when the birds and bees do it. also, there might be a unicorn involved. altho, i'm not quite sure how he fits in. maybe he watches? which is actually quite creepy. i mean, birds and bees doing it isn't the most normal thing you could think about. the logistics alone are enough to make you wonder "what the eff..." or "how the eff..." but actually standing there and watching it? eww. unicorns are such perverts. especially that one unicorn, Stan. he's the worst. always clip-clopping by my window in the morning, trying to catch a glimpse of my pasty winter ass just after i've showered. and there was that one time he broke into my place, i guess he used his corn to pick my doorlock, and i found him passed out in a pile of my undies. i had to get every single one of those replaced. hoof prints and torn corn marks all over 'em. expensive day. i would've had him buy me new ones, but i didn't wanna take the chance that he'd sniff them, or worse, before i got them. gah. effing perverts.

2 wycked

so i guess i've been a bit lazy in my postings lately. it's pretty much been raining for a million days straight and i just didn't feel like being clever, or witty or trying to make you feel better when i was feeling rained out and cranky. but there's this weird color in the sky right now. its kind of cheerful. if my stupid co-worker wasn't trying to gas me with her effing perfume, i'd almost be able to say that i felt ok. however, she is. and i kind of hate her. that is all. i'm still not at 100% rant. maybe my lunch will suck today and i can bitch about that. hmm. there is this bright non rain filtering in through my window. now i don't wanna alarm anyone. perhaps its just the terrorists, but maybe its not. it seems familiar somehow, like i've seen it before. i have this crazy urge to run outside and roll around in it. uh, just soak it up. cause if you're rolling around on the streets of van, you're not gonna get sun all over you, its gonna be dog pee and hobo semen. oh, and maybe a dirty needle will stick you in the ass or something. or just be all rusty and then you'd have to go for a tetanus shot. and then you'd have to wait for like 30 hours in the emergency room, while other people coughed and spewed all sorts of other germs on you. getting sicker waiting to get better. ich. germs are gross. things that ooze are gross. also, things that drip are gross. imagine if something was ooze-y and drip-y and germ-y. damn. i'd probably barf. maybe its a good thing i don't get sick more often. no one likes an ooze-y, drip-y, germ-y co-worker.

lunch update

the place in question is actually called Amigos Cafe @ 518 Richards. i remembered that i took their take-out menu in my bag so next time i could just order ahead.
oh, and whitecake was finally able to taste his food...i'll let you imagine how...

barfing makes you pretty, right?

good lord. i guess karma just kicked me in the ass. or maybe the universe thinks it funny to give a really wicked kickass type breakfast and then a horrible horrible barf-up of a lunch. i'm mostly a good person. i try to be nice (ish). i go to work, participate in society, help tiny old people cross the street, rescue puppies or whatever. i don't see why i had to be subjected to this sort of atrocity. here's my story. lunchtime rolled and i was getting hungry. i ichatted up a couple of coworker buddies and we decided to go to a new mexican place that just opened up on richards and pender - amigas, i believe its called. so we trek over there. past the homeless begging for change, past the idiot SUV drivers trying to run our asses over. we finally get there - hungry and cold and wet (cause it's vancouver and winter and therefore the city is just a giant puddle.) the place looks ok from the outside, non-descript, but also kind of welcoming. we go inside, and its warm. but it doesn't smell all that food-y, you know, like a restaurant should. that should have been my tipoff. restaurants that don't smell like food are obviously just drug fronts, and don't really make any kind of usable food item. buy your drugs there, sure, but don't order any food. anyway, enough digression, we all order our food - there are 5 of us, but we decide it prolly won't take too long as the place looks slightly fast foody, and fast food is generally very aptly named. 45 minutes later we finally all get our food. 2 had already deserted us - took their food and ran. but i don't blame then, i would have done the same.
my bag seems heavy, and i'm somewhat excited about what is to come. will it be the magical mexican sandwich that i have been promised? a combination of beans and wonderment? or a kick in the pants? after waiting 45 min. i'm really just hoping for something halfway decent. we get back to the lunchroom and i open the bag. no food smell. i look more closely at the sandwich - it looks like it might be good - it seems to have all the goodness-inducing ingredients: roasted veggies, guac, beans, cheese and pineapple (strange, but i'm willing to give it a go). i take a bite. and wait for the flavor. i swallow. still waiting. i take another bite. still nothing. puzzled, i deconstruct the sandwich and taste each of the layers. the beans are the first to be tasted. it's like i just licked my finger, and my finger had some air on it. next i try the roasted veggies, hard to go wrong with a roasted green pepper, right? wrong, its tastes kinda bad. but i guess when you combine it with other things that don't taste like anything, the bad taste gets cancelled out. i won't go into every layer, but let's just say eating a big bag of air would have tasted better and have been cheaper. i ate the sandwich, i won't lie to you. i was hungry, and i'm cheap, i hate spending money on things only to throw them away. the last 2 bites of the sandwich had some flavor - tasted like fried bread. and it was kinda greasy by this point too. i guess gravity grabbed all the grease from the top of the sandwich and pulled it all to the bottom - you know, what gravity normally does.
after i was done eating, i felt dirty, like my stomach had been violated. i just sat there, trying to understand why. i slowly got up from the table, gathered my garbage and threw it away, and with it, my sandwich-y innocence. its been an hour now, and my insides still don't feel right. i feel greasy and let down, like i've just eaten a fried bag of puppies. i'm still toying with the idea of barfing it up and taking a mulligan on lunch altogether. but my penny-pinching ways won't let me. maybe i'm punishing myself for something. i guess i should just forget it and move on. but it's hard, ya know? i wanted to throw a bone to a new business, take a chance on the unknown. and i got effed. that mexican place effed me so hard, effed me like i've never been effed before. and let that be a lesson to you kids, try something new and you'll get effed.

my buddy whitecake, had this to say about lunch:
"I like to eat, I also like the women's. Throughout my life I have
struggled with these two passions because, understandably, the
women's don't like the fat guys. However, thanks to today's lunch at
Amigas, my dilemma has been resolved. I now hate eating, and may or
may not be slightly impotent."

let it snow, let it effing snow

holy crap - i just ate the best effing breakfast ever. so good, in fact, that i'd like to barf it up just so i can eat it again. here's my breaky breakdown: toasted 'everything bagel' (that's basically a bagel they rubbed on the seed leavings on the factory floor, a mishmash of every seed Dempsters crams on a bagel. this includes but does not exclude, sesame seeds, poppy seeds, onion bits and uh, whatever else was handy, you know, misc. seeds, and things of that nature) with a mashed up avocado on top (avocado was mashed with just a lil' salt n peppa to taste). gd it, 'twas the best breaky i've had all week.

maybe i'll post something more exciting later. and maybe i won't. screw you if you think i owe you anything. what am i? your gd mother-effing monkey? huh? dance monkey dance! you shout. and i oblige. i weep and oblige. and i plot my revenge...

oh, and i'd like to give a shout out to my good buddy kat. she's on a plane right now, hurtling towards mexico. lucky bitch... did i mention that it snowed today? and it's mother-effing march? yeah. that stupid, lying, no good for anything groundhog. i'm gonna hunt that son of a bitch down and kick it. you know, for all the lying. damn liar. i was gonna use 'mother-effing liar', but i sort of figured i've used that quite an effing bit already. and the day is super effing young still. i kinda gotta save up all my effing effs, you know, so they don't lose their effing effectiveness. heh, thats a good word, effectiveness, already has eff in it. comes pre-effed, one could say. heh. pre-effed. just like...(insert dirty whoever joke in here. too many to really pin down a good one.).