i have these saved going back to july i can’t even remember half the burns i made up when i chose them, so be gentle.
this just inspired me to make a video response so you can see what my face looks like right now. yes agreed, it is way horrible that you only felt validated as a person when your mentally ill buddy CUT THEMSELF OVER HOW MUCH OF AN ASSHOLE YOU WERE TO THEM and now that they are better your flattery high has been taken away. next time i hope your pal becomes a drinker instead and gets over you forever.
WHEEEE! FUN! LETS ALL RACE TO THE FRIENDSHIP AWARD CEREMONY DON’T LOLLY-GAG I THINK YOU ARE UP FOR AN AWARD THIS TIME FOR SUREZIES!
oh sigh, but you know a lot of people go through life constantly beating themselves with confusion sticks over why they can’t ever please their parents when really the solution can actually be that simple, how arrogant to believe that it’s impossible for a parent to hate their child. be free l’il duder and enjoy it, that’s the best revenge showing her you don’t give a fuck anymore about anything she has to say ever again.
how completely awesome, a sociopathic attention-seeking testing-type, you know you were supposed to stop panty-waist friendship tests in grade 6? did you know that? did you also know that you get the opposite desired result when you test people? hopefully you will blast through the windshield into a tree and become paralyzed for life then you will see how much of a selfish shitlick you are.
are you that much of a miserable cunt that you have to inflict cowardly torture on innocent people? um if you hate your job you know you can change occupations. get some friends and a life, maybe? you should be forced to fellate a toilet brush.
you know there are other conniving ways to force your ex to talk to you (though totally mental to obsess over someone who doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore) not involving fake pregnancies and STDs like burning your name in gasoline in his backyard or breaking into his house sitting on the edge of his bed and watching him sleep. w-i-n-n-e-r.
ok i did that once before too but i at least know how to spell masturbate. please do me a favour, go to dictionary.com and type in masterbate (PUKE) and see what happens. the only reason masterbate comes up in google is b’cos more than half of the world’s population spells it wrong and google just gave the fuck up and allowed it to lead to the ‘masturbate’ term. UGH! GET IT RIGHT! not only did you make me picture you masturbating, you made me picture a stupid fucking idiot masturbating THANK YOU SO MUCH.
YOU ARE HILARIOUS! i can’t even tell if i am being sarcastic right now.
barf at wipe, and barf at lover. the fact that he is married makes me so much less enraged. great! this is almost too pathetic for words, you know he’s using you right and that he doesn’t think of you when he wipes his asshole at home with his wife and kids?
aw too cute, sad, but cute.
wow green-eyed monster much? holy do you ever deserve to be throttled the hell out of for that. make your own fame dick.
and you are proud of this? why do people like you keep popping up WHAT IS GOING ON WORLD!??!
aw me too! i probably have more feelings for inanimate objects than i do humans, mostly kidding, but you know what i mean. like a balloon in the sky could break my heart or a picture of a red scarf hahaha.
i understand you are in the wrong profession.
BEST SHAPED HEAD ON A KID AWARD GOES TO THIS GUY! omfg and his face, PUNCH ME PLEASE!
yeah, and it’s called schizophrenia medication.
uh, grow up maybe and get on with your own life or confront her. does it paralyze you at night, do you sleep with a blanky called binky?
find a way to tell him soon. as teachers age they inevitably (generally) lose the joy of teaching, they get drained, give him a reason to keep on chugging and inspire more kids. teaching is probably the most important job in the universe.
you will get yourself back don’t worry. hey what is this gay day on my blog?
good! good! good! good! good! i don’t know what else to say.
also very important work!
when that happens you will take this back big time. someone wrote below this post card that their tattoo can’t talk to them or hug them and they would give anything to not have it. why not get a tattoo of something else you ding dong poseur.
you know what else would make you feel better about being overweight?
NOT BEING OVERWEIGHT!
oh god get over it, it’s not her fault just like it’s not your fault, blame her for more things why don’t you. I GOT DUMPED COS MY BEST FRIEND HAS A POOL AND I DON’T!
that is SOOOOOOO fucking endearing i am going to explode now.
right, cos it’s ABBA’s fault and nothing at all to do with the fifty cats you own and the cathy comics wallpapering your apartment. i love abba and i have a bf in fact i’ll make raymi waterloo dance video right now.
if you help me figure out this problem i will buy you a fucking carton of smokes or a pet iguana, i dunno, SOMETHING cos i’m so steamed!
the bad kids come to our park all the time and they piss me off a lot, they purposely make mischief, they amped it up after me, sass and britt went and screamed at them in a drunken frustration rage. they throw glass bottles over the fence into our parking lot when fil and i are trying to drink wine and watch our yuppie tv shows, GOD those awful kids, they are destroying this one tree branch by branch and they scream, yell and pull stupid dick head kid moves for hours on end.
can i set a bear trap, or call the police? threaten to call the police? leave a scathing note? buy a bb gun? can someone come over and scare the shit out of them? can you pretend to be a scary molester stranger?
matt said i should blare siren noises through the window.
HELP ME
what is the laziest most effective non-illegal way to fix this?
this is how crazy those kids make me feel and how they view me
blarhaha no wait this too
but probably more accurately like this
but really, in my heart of hearts, i hope they see this:
that’s how you guys see me right, fearless leather-clad hero? i mean, we pose the same, hand on hip, total dead ringer.
(I wrote this in 2008. My slang, grammar and manner of blog voice proves it).
So this story is legendary amongst all of whom were involved, albeit somewhat unbelievable, howevs if hard-pressed I can deliver some first-hand account proofs, I’ve already been tracking some of these people down on facebook, anyway, allow me to begin.
One evening at the age of 16 (and a half) I went to a Fatboy Slim concert at the Warehouse (before it was Koolhaus) with some friends, and I decided to fake a british accent for the nite. I separated from my friends cos i was on the prowl for dudes to buy me drinks, this was before I had a fake ID, and the show was all ages.
I find one guy and we dance around and he totally did not buy my accent at all, in fact, it inspired him to fake an irish accent, he bought me a beer. We inevitably tire of each other so off I went a dancing. I was wearing tight black velvet pants from le chateau and this indian print camisole that was wicked tight, also from le chateau, my h&m back in the day. I had long blond hair down to my ass then and was beginning to put on a bit of boozeweight cos i had ditched dance classes but still fancied myself the most incredible dancer when out on the scene, i wasn’t a heffer or anything, still pretty lithe.
Then like out of a movie the crowd parts and i see this dude salsa dancing and immediately size him up as a ‘mo. I do my shitty seduction routine in the circle surrounding him, half spazzy jazz bullshit with a sprinkle of electronica thrown in for embarrassing measure (which at the time was so in, i just had to ask my friend what genre fatboy slim is considered and he said uh, oldies? hahaha) and BAM it worked, dude was dancing with me. We take turns salsa-sashaying around each other, he was doing this stupid cha-cha fist air-punching garbage and I was twirling and kicking like a ballet dancer on speed.
So the moment comes when I finally have to say something in his ear, and I do, complete with fake (shitty) british accent, which he doesn’t flinch over at all, and what did I say? I asked him if he was bi-sexual of course, it’s nearing the end of the concert and I want some fucking action, and to my chagrin he says oh my god yes but it is totally a secret. I’m not going to embarrass the dude by outing the details I later found out plus he is also married now, the point is, he wasn’t technically bi and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter, so I gave myself the green light and followed that up with do you know how old I am? (One of my favourite lines was throwing how young I was at older guys cos i thought I was so fantastically mature and smart and ugh you get the point) Then I say I’m 16 He says it doesn’t even matter cos you are so beautiful and then I find out he’s 29, I can’t remember if he told me before or after he found out my age. Anyway we keep dancing and chatting until the lights come on and then we get a better look at one another, ok ok still interested I guess, my friends come over to collect me, he gives me his card, says he is from Montreal and I’m so pumped that i say ME TOO (I am not from Montreal) which is now lie number 2 on top of the fake accent crap.
Two weeks pass, I email him, we make plans to attend a performance of Irving Welsh’s Ecstasy at System Soundbar, we drop E during the intermission and then there is also another 45 minutes of the show to go and before long we turn into cuddly e-tards.
And I am stuck faking this british accent cos I didn’t have the balls to come clean and of course E makes you just absolutely LOVE whoever you take it with (I didn’t want to jeopardize this relationship ha yeah cos a lot was running on it) on top of being 16, still in high school and in the big dreamy city of Toronto when you live in Mississauga, Streetsville no less.
My back story was pretty stupid, something like lived in England for awhile, born in Montreal (that annoying idiot detail kept coming back to haunt me) then eventually moved to Mississauga. This dude from Devon, England had recently entered our fold at school so I copied his story and accent, when asked where in England I came from I cooed, “The Northwest part.” or whatever direction from London Devon was, I did not even bother to look at a fucking map either. And of course as it turns out, dude’s roommate WAS BORN IN FUCKING DEVON. He only lived there for a few years as a kid but still, went back to visit and all that. FUUUUUUUUCK. Luckily he was a total perv space cadet stoner and I just changed the subject when we were talking about what a coincidence it was both being from Devon and all, and it worked. Years later when we were all making fun of me he said, “Yeah yeah, I remember it being a little odd how we just changed subjects like that come to think of it.” HAHA.
Oh right, to everyone I was also 18 years old. After school everyday I took the Go Bus into Toronto (or my friend would drive me and later pick me up and drive me home), I had my own key to his apartment and he’d get home from work right after me. The first time I turned up I had a problem with the key and the other roommate thought I was a burglar. It was extremely important to me that I be accepted by all these adults so I really shined up my personality and game and I was careful to dress urban and have a lot of funny things to say.
oh and I got away with it from my parents cos i made up friends that didn’t exist who lived in other suburbs or said I was at a late movie then at Sega Playdium, and they were stressed out from my brother’s hi-jinx at the time so my comings and goings went pretty much unnoticed. I was still going to school and working my part-time job, typical adolescent stuff.
So I meet a lot of this guy’s friends over the span of a month and a half and I fake this accent for all of them. I only let it slip once when my friend called me cos she was in Toronto herself at the edge in line for Oasis tickets. I hang up the brick-sized motorola cell phone I had purchased to make being sneakier easier and say in my normal voice, “Oh my God, Sandra’s in Toronto right now.” Then he gets this smirky look on his face, we’re waiting for the streetcar at union and all the blood drains from my head I almost shat myself and fainted on the spot, so quickly to damage control I come up with all these piss-ant britishism cliche words like ‘blimey’ ‘fack’ ‘right’ ‘shit’ just as he says, “You totally just lost your accent there!” It was fucked cos on the phone I was faking the accent and Sandra goes, “Oh, you’re with *****” and laughs at me and I laugh too.
I mutter that once in awhile it drops from hanging around canadians so much, phew, buys it.
When the phone would ring at work I would be expecting him so I’d put on this half sing-songy british lilt.
You’re probably thinking there is no fucking way you could fake an accent for that long and get away with it and I know there isn’t a chance in hell I could pull it off now, but at the time I was desperate to keep this ball rolling so I buckled down, and it got easier, became second-nature. I even faked an accent in a school play as Scrooge and everyone thought it was pretty good, I was also obsessed with brit pop.
However, I was tired of faking it and I had deluded myself into thinking this was true love and all my friends were like you have to tell him the truth dude. I bet they wanted it to be over, selfish jealous bitches.
On the nite I decided to come clean we went out to dinner on College street, I didn’t want to tell him in the restaurant in case he made a scene and stormed out on me. I wanted to be able to manipulate the situation into my favour, but, I did want to prepare him for the news so I kept telling him during dinner that I had something to tell him and it was important and right after eating could I tell him at his place? He didn’t seem worried in the slightest, fuckin’ smug dick, here I am sweating like crazy, clammy palms about to barf and he’s just casually chewing on his food, i was aghast by how non-chalant he was.
Alright so we’re at his place hanging out on the bed, he’s leaning against the wall and i’m facing him totally wringing my fucking wrists, I start with this little spiel I had been going over in my head for weeks, I say, “*****, now I weeally loike yuh-ew and this thing I’m ’bout to tell yuh-ew has lead to all these styew-pid l’il whoite lyes n’all ‘n..’n..” I start to stammer and he spits out, “WHAT IS IT ARE YOU PREGNANT!? DO YOU HAVE AIDS!?” so I blurt, “I DON’T HAVE AN ACCENT!!!” in my normal voice and his eyes bulge out of his head and he goes, “OH MY GOD….your normal voice…IT’S SO HOT.”
I know right!? After all that build-up. It was such a relief. We sat there going over every lie I had told because of my stupid fake accent and he was entertained by all of it, all of a sudden I had this new interesting appeal, like some shit kid from the ghetto streets of ‘sauga. I know it sounds laughable but it worked like a charm. I asked him if he had bought it all along and he said he thought it was just something I liked to do, talk british? But then calling me at work when I would answer the phone with the accent that sealed the deal for him in his head. HAHA.
He called me at work the next day the second I got there just to hear me talk in my real voice.
We dated in total for six months, I had to meet all the friends again I had faked the accent in front of and no one ever made mention of it, like a black-out was placed on that topic.
Inevitably my parents found out on the weekend of my seventeenth birthday cos my stupid friend blabbed to her mother about where she’d been and where I was then everything went to shit and my heart was broken, I was grounded for two weeks and my life was hell. I had the audacity to say to my dad don’t take it personally when he kept saying over and over, “I can’t believe for six months you have been living a double life.” He at least understood the appeal of hanging around older people. My mother of course hit the roof and threatened to get this guy thrown in jail to which I smart-alecky informed her about the legal age of consent in Canada, she even called up his dad and he told her the same thing.
I wrote to one of my old friends from this group and asked him what he thought about the story he said i was intimidating i asked how he said because i was sexy cocky and loud.
THE END
ps. comments are back.
pps. this was supposed to go up on s-carnage but cos of the bullshit over there and an impending article they want the attention on and not the crap that follows me around the webz, on my blog this went.
i burned my lower lip last nite from sneaking butter chicken before it had completed its simmering, took off a layer of lip skin and now it looks like i’ve had collagen injected, wicked. that’s my beauty tip of the day, scald your lower lip with something.
cats are little retards, dude sat like this for a solid ten minutes, he was in the licking zone then got distracted.
MUSCLE BEACH HERE I COME
i was listening to radiohead and having an autistic moment while fil was wii fitting, i thought it would be really whimsical of me if i made a video of myself re-outlining my aerobics drawing with red sharpie, too bad i didn’t, i’m sure the outcome wouldn’t be at all embarrassing. we rented the orphanage, i give it 3.8 stars.
ok so my art show date will be FRIDAY OCTOBER 3 at The Central, you know that spot fil and i finally discovered with the cool couch room upstairs? anyway yeah there, the majority of you voted for friday so i guess it’ll be a proper piss-up so save the date FRIDAY OCTOBER 3!
an old lady in our building talked to me and was nice! she was down by the mail in front of our box and i patiently waited for her to slide her purse over and she goes oh so you’re my neighbour i go yeah then she shows me her sarah brighton tickets whom i have no idea is i’m like uh folk rock? she said she was the only white person to sing at the olympics. oh haha that’s um nice for us white people isn’t it, go whitey! just kidding. she lives on our floor. i said i’d say hi to the cat for her she said oh yeah i saved him from the elevator. i just googled sarah brighton and turns out there’s also a sarah brightman, so i assume whichever is more lame is the show she’s going to. i almost started talking about how we are into music too but then remembered i was talking to a dinosaur so i canned it. no matter, this is good progress, a lot better than may 2-4 when she snapped at me for saying i was going up to the roof to try and see fireworks. i felt uncomfortable cos i was wearing cop sunglasses and i coudn’t take them off cos of the greasy mascara from yesterday under there, i always run out looking like a scumbag to grab coffee. why do old people always make you feel like you should be dressed like you just came out of the great gatsby?
i looked like this except a million times more disgusting.
i am happy to report that i have lost 3lbs, i am unhappy to report that it is from stress alone.
i am listening to the lesbian i love raymi cd mix my little buddy steph made for me right now, it’s adorable. she put a tonne of obvious messages in it like how much she loves me and to never leave her and blah blah PSYCHO! kidding, how cute is this! and who makes these anymore?
