Archive for the ‘Yuck’ Category

Well,

Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011

What to say to that craziness that was #elxn41? I’m torn between quipping about Jack Layton’s menagerie of completely inexperienced MPs, including a woman who went on vacation and never canvassed, and genuinely wringing my hands about what we’re in for in the next four years.

Layton should be thrilled with his 102 seats, but the $ per seat money may be more of a boon than being the leader of the opposition in a majority government, since he effectively has LESS power in this situation. Plus, those votes in Quebec weren’t FOR the NDP, necessarily. The people were speaking to Gilles Duceppe, just as sure as they were speaking to Iggy. Quebec nationalism isn’t dead.

Neither is the Liberal Party. It was amazing how fast Twitterverse went to speculation on the “Democratic Liberal Party”. Maybe merging the Left is the right idea in terms of reducing the detrimental effects of vote-splitting. On pure percentages, the two parties together were 49% of the popular vote to the Conservatives’ 39.62%. Of course, with first past the post, they still would have been lacking #seats.

What the Liberal Party should not do is jump quickly. Ironic that Iggy was his warmest when he was graciously resigning – where the hell was this guy for the last parliament and the whole election? Apparently he hopes the next Liberal leader is young and female. I’ll be happy with good, which we haven’t had in a while. And as long as it’s not Justin flippin’ Trudeau, who couldn’t find “genuine” in the dictionary under “G”. The Party needs new leadership, should never have gone with Michael Ignatieff in the first place, but this is quite a hard lesson to learn.

What’s to fear in the Harper government? More funding cuts to women’s groups, the demise of the CBC, undercutting healthcare and healthcare transfers to the provinces, no public funding for political parties (after he gets his share from THIS election and simultaneously screws the LPC one more time), corporate tax cuts, no more long gun registry, and a continued gag on his own party and on the media, as best he can.

What is scariest, maybe, is the fact that my fellow Canadians voted for a man who believes bullying is a good way to lead, for a Party that was in contempt of parliament, and who launched vicious attack ads, and who have, on numerous occasions, diverted funds for their own purposes. I don’t understand their thinking, and perhaps that’s the most depressing fact of all.

Up with which, I will not put

Tuesday, April 12th, 2011

I got a misdirected email from someone who has a lot of relatives with the same last name as me. It was an invite to a big Easter shindig somewhere in the States, and you know, I would consider the invitation, cuz there’s ham, except for one insurmountable and scary, and BAD in the worst way detail:

JELLO SALAD.

If you know me IRL, then you know my justified fear and loathing of JELLO SALAD. Why? WHY? You put SOLID things in a coloured gelatin and you expect people to EAT IT. Like carrots. Carrots and jello don’t belong together. Nor does marshmallows, celery, nuts, cherries or pineapple in jello.

This is non-negotiable. So sorry, J, thanks for the invitation but I will not be attending your “feast”.

Behold my first world problems

Monday, May 3rd, 2010

So they’re cleaning out the water mains at work so we had no coffee/tea or water today (though they did bring in bottled water) and I had to go buy Timmies (which in a plaza right beside us so I’m hoping whatever drugs they put in the coffee are also good for killing rust and sediment) this morning and I didn’t get my after-lunch coffee.

It was very discombobulating.

The right to blog

Wednesday, November 18th, 2009

A friend of mine moved to China with her family a few weeks ago. Before she left, we talked about her setting up a blog so that she can keep in touch with friends and family in Canada and Sweden.

We were talking today and I asked about the blog, and she told me that she hasn’t been able to get one set up. No access to WordPress, Blogger, Blogspot…or Twitter, Facebook …

I mean, I knew that the government of China blocks Internet content, but it made it more real. And then I got indignant on behalf of the 1,325,639,982 people or so that are there and effectively gagged. They have no right to blog. Just think about all of us who can jump on and blog about our electric ass, or our cat, or our thoughts on healthcare. They can’t do that. They can’t read what we read, or have the opportunity to know what we know. That’s deplorable. This is the same week that Obama hailed China as an economic partner (with no strings attached to human rights abuses).

If you want to know how to get around it, btw, sounds like the best approach is to create a blog account outside of the country and these use a POP connection to email in your entries. I’ve offered my friend some help to do just that.

I pooped on my head

Monday, July 13th, 2009

Yes, this is the second post in a row about poop. One of the great gifts to literature is Who Pooped On My Head? Plot is pretty simple: it’s a mole, with poop on his head, and he wants to know who did it. If you’re really good, you can also collect them in different languages – I have a copy in Hungarian!

Interesting. The current official title is The Story of the Little Mole in Search of Whodunit according to Amazon (Why? What person doesn’t like to say the word “poop”?)

Okay, I went looking for a picture of the Who Pooped on My Head? cover and there all The Story of the Little Mole in Search of Whodunit. OMG, maybe this is like 1984, and they’re revising history and sanitizing the language! I’m appalled. Just google “Werner Holzwarth” for images and you’ll see what I mean. Or maybe I dreamed the fact that it was ever called Who Pooped on My Head? Oooh. Maybe it’s like The Crying of Lot 49, and I actually saw an ersatz copy of the book which reveals a underground society of mole enthusiast mail carriers.

Who Pooped on My Head?

Who Pooped on My Head?

Anyway, that is all by way of explanation because I have found a critter who poops on its OWN head. It’s actually in my garden eatin’ mai asiatic lilies. I present the “Lily Leaf Beetle”:

courtesy of Odonals Nurseries

courtesy of Odonal's Nurseries

See that black crap on the larvae on the left? That’s its POOP. Which it carries on its HEAD. Apparently, it’s a defense mechanism. I have to say that if I were a larvae-eating wasp, I’d have second thoughts.

In case you wondering how to get rid of the poop-beetle, the experts seem to think that Neem Oil will do the trick. I will let you know if it works.

Little bastards.

Do moths poop?

Friday, July 10th, 2009

I was walking into the house and I felt something sudden and wet on my foot. I looked down in time to see a moth of some sort flying away from the scene of the crime.

The “substance” was kind of wet yellow-ish. Could this be moth poop? I asked google, and apparently this guy got pooped on by a moth, and it looks suspiciously similar.

I guess if something goes in, it must come out …somewhere. Foot wash – check.

I might get the rabies!

Tuesday, June 16th, 2009

I was out watering my sod last night, and there were three tween girls shrieking and giggling in a circle on the grassy boulevard in front of my neighbour’s house.

Turns out they had just witnessed a chipumkicide in the street. Not wanting to leave the “body” on the road, they used some paper to fling onto my neighbour’s boulevard, and now were suffering pangs of guilt for leaving it there, so they wanted it back on the street, but at the curb.

Having survived the bravery of the first move, they were having serious second thoughts about a second one – “I might get the rabies”, “You just touched it, so you can touch it again!” Shriek! Squee!

When I turned around and shut my eyes, it was almost like I was at a Jonas brothers concert.

Cheese in the gulag

Sunday, April 19th, 2009

Is anyone else creeped out by the latest set of Cheese commercials? For those of you not in Canada, each one features a child staring at a plate of washed out, unappealing food (like dessicated peas or something). It all looks like it takes place in some Eastern European village where the children have been replaced by slack-eyed pod people.

The tagline is “all you need is a little imagination”, and then the pod-child pictures a little dancing man made of cheese who jigs on the side of the plate and then offers to feed them. The music is kind of haunting 40s stuff and the little dancing men look seem more like evil sprites than reassuring cheese happy people.

The whole thing really creeps me out.

I’m sure you’re a nice person outside of your little shop of horrors

Thursday, March 26th, 2009

I finally made it to the dentist. The mission was to replace 2 fillings that were about 35 years old or so – the old “it’s gonna kill you” lead or aluminum things or something. I got the young turk who nattered on about his niece and nephew while he got the needle, the big frakkin’ needle, ready to put in my MOUTH.

I think I’ve noted before that I’m not BFF with dentists at the best of times (*cough* I might have hit one one time *cough*).

He said that the one on my right side “is a big sucker”, so there was no way I could do it without freezing. So I had the needle. Correction. THREE needles. And they hurt; I’m not even gonna lie.

The little one went okay, other than the smell of burning lead as he was drilling. That was really palatable. But then on the other side, with the “big one”, he needed some extra tools, like a freakin’ Borg instrument to prop open my mouth or clamp my tooth to my jaw or something, that I looked like this:

Marilyn/scotchneat at the dentist

Marilyn/scotchneat at the dentist

Okay, maybe not quite that, but it was pretty close, and I had on those bigass glasses that you have to wear so that you don’t get your own spit and/or lead fillings in your eyes.

The damn freezing didn’t wear off until about 8pm, which is about 5 hours of feeling like my teeth were stones and my lips were the size of a peach.

This has done nothing to improve my relationship with dentists.

Incident avoided

Wednesday, March 11th, 2009

Me: Hello, I need to reschedule my dental appointment that was supposed to be tomorrow. I have a head cold.

Receptionist: Oh, we don’t worry about that. The dentist has gloves on.

Me: Yeah, except I can’t breathe through my nose.

Receptionist: Like I said, the dentist has gloves on.

Me: Right. But I can’t breathe through my nose, and let’s say the dentist has his hands in my mouth, so how exactly am I getting air in? Besides, if there’s freezing, then there could be an incident and I wouldn’t know about it.

Receptionist: Like what kind of incident?

Me: Um, well, like snot dripping down or something.

Receptionist: We can reschedule to 2 weeks from now – will that work?

Me: Yes. That will be fine.