Is the lifestyle I live, and love, normal?

It's 4 am Saturday night, and as is usual, I've downed more drinks than I can count without taking my shoes off.

I'm having the regular off the wall conversations with the boys.
Slim's been doing it up extra hard this last little while, (in his opinion) and has noted to us a concern that he needs to cool it off.

I've been in the same position before, so I understand his feeling. More importantly, I know that those feelings are dangerous, and only lead to regret. This "taking it easy" last a few days at most, and you're left with nothing out of them other than a memory of how you wasted a couple good weekend nights, watching everyone else have more fun than you.

So we managed to crush his spirit for "healthy life" and "not getting trashed as hell" and he hopped on board, and had himself another night worth living.

Then I thought to myself, I wonder if this is normal.

For those that don't know us, the following is a pretty standard breakdown of quiet weekend in our lives (meaning not a cottage party, trip to Montreal, Algonquin, Niagara, etc.) I've provided this solely for comparison purposes:

Finish work around 4:30 or 5 (for those of us working) and head home immediately, busting with joy its the weekend.

Try and have a nap for a couple of hours, so that you can be sure tiredness won't slow you up later. Realize every single time you try it fails, and you don't have time for nappy naps.

Around 6 or so, go out for some food. Probably Indian, Thai or Sushi.

Head to the LCBO/Beer Store on the way home from dinner. For those not living in Ontario, the LCBO is an evil monopoly which is run by the government and is the ONLY place you can buy liquor. Beer stores the same thing, but only has beer.

Get home and realize you forgot mix. Say fuck a LOT. Drive like a manic and get something at the closest possible store.

Make your first drink/crack the first beer. Probably around 8. Watch TV, hang on the deck or in the hottub as friends start arriving.

Drink many more drinks (around 6-12 depending on the night) whilst playing poker, watching TV, listening to music, playing music etc. (or a combo).

Try and decide what bar to go to. Say fuck a LOT again.

Decide there's no point in trying to decide, and just call cabs anyhow.

Take FOREVER getting to the cabs, ensuring the drivers are pissed.

Get dropped off somewhere downtown.

Try and decide what bar to go to. Say fuck a LOT again.

Go wherever there's no line. It'll probably be a pub, or a patio if its summer. It will always be a place a whole lot of sitting and chatting can be done, perhaps with the chance at a dabble of dancing.

Buy drinks, in fact, buy so many that you must deliberately visit opposite ends of the bar (if there's only one) or go back and forth between all the bars there because if only one person serves you, they will think you are fucking NUTS.
They also are less likely to cut you off if only buy like 2 drinks from them, rather than triple, or maybe quadruple that.

Buy numerous rounds of shots, using the above technique.

Stumble out of the bar only after the lights turn on, loudly laughing at the hilariousness of what is going on. Go eat food. Streetmeat or pita's of some sort seem to be a standard.

Walk home whilst eating and recounting the funny shit that happened during the night, and perhaps finding new ways of describing how inebriated you are.

Get home, grab another drink, and pile into the hottub... Realize how much life fucking RULES EARTH.

Drink water, and conversate about ridiculous things, or the state of the world and politics.

Sleep as long as humanly possible. Wake up and curse out whoever stole all your money because there's "no way" you dropped 50, 60, 80, 120 bucks or whatever you spent that night.

Th'End.

Now the question: Are there that many other groups of 25 year olds guys like us???,

The majority being single, who hang out every weekend and throw it down in fashion that would make most college parties seem like family movie Sunday?

Do we really have far more fun than everyone else? Are "normal" 25 year olds really as drab as we assume?

Please give me some feedback... It's incredibly interesting to see what people think of us, and how they live themselves. A cultural jouney begins with you!

A quiet Friday night. Oh yes, that's right.

‘Twas Friday night, and the air was hot.
So patio drinks the boys did got.
With Shots of Jager, We got on our stagger
And many more beers after that.

And many old acquaintances from Fergus abound,
We reminisced and caught up and generally got down.
With great conversations, and forcing Arnman drunk
We knew he’d be late, but we was getting “crunk”

So last call came, and went, and we stood up to go
Got 50 feet down the road and came across two dumb hoes
They somehow imagined we were talking to them,
It was so obvious we weren’t we told them again

But one girl persisted, and so we gently asked
What the “FUCK is your PROBLEM” And she let out a gasp.
And she raged and she screamed like a crazy fucking bitch
And her friend tried to stop her, but ended up doing this:



And I laughed for a moment, but the other one screamed
“I’ll fucking Kill you” and she came running at Arny
Arnman faked to the left and spun to the right,
Crackho lost her balance and went down hard, What a sight!

And then I had time, to reminisce about it all
That drunken slut didn’t even reach out to break her fall
Man she must be hurting like hell this morning still
Lesson learned: If you can’t take the drink, stall outa the swill

And the cops they were laughing, and got out of their truck.
So the fucking nuts bitches took off like scared ducks.
And we kept on walking, stunned as can be.
Thinking out loud how much more fucked could that be?

And so now as I think back about that girl eating sidewalk,
I almost piss laughing so hard I can’t talk.

The Condo Mentality. A Rant by Quarter life crisis' Own Slim

Although this is a pathetic attempt to air out my grievances in a bigger forum (i.e. I will take a lot of shit for being a huge cynic etc.), I really do want to hear some feedback from different people who aren’t in our stupid videos.

The boys in the group have heard a lot of complaining from me since I’ve been back in Canada about what I have dubbed “The Condo Mentality”. To explain this simply (i.e.: a Websters definition) is almost impossible, but I will give it a try…

A person with the “condo mentality” is someone who doesn’t really know what the “basics” of being human really are. Now, the word “Condo” is included since most of these people live in Condominiums. The majority of these people don’t even realize that their behavior/opinions are completely ridiculous, and won’t listen to reason or a clearly stated argument that completely blows them out of the water. They will usually respond with a line such as “…but those are the rules” or “…yeah, but this is what we’re going to do anyway” when confronted about their controversial conduct.

I will attempt to give some recent examples of behavior that I have seen since returning to Canada that will hopefully clear up some confusion;

1. This is my personal favourite (or biggest pain in the ass) that I can recently remember. The guys all have to listen to my rants about this particular person that I have never even met, and criticize me for being a heartless prick (Bev). I must say that this is the biggest example of the “CM” that I have seen in a lonnngggg time.

In Toronto, next door to Matt’s place, is a neighbour who is very concerned (read: standoffish and just plain rude) about his parking. Since the city of Toronto tickets us with a constant barrage of $30.00 parking tickets for overnight parking in the street, we like to park in the parking space that is conveniently located right behind Matt’s house when we visit the T-Dot.

In order to use this parking space, you need to go between Matt’s house and his neighbour’s house by using the shared driveway. It has just enough room between the houses for a car (with it’s mirrors pushed in), and at the end you can turn right into Matt’s single space, or left into the neighbor’s single space. There is absolutely no way to turn around on Matt’s property without “encroaching” about 1 or 2 feet onto the neighbour’s space (which is ALWAYS empty) in order to drive back out between the two houses again safely. I have tried to back out of this spot before (much to the laughter and ridicule of the boys since it took me about 15 solid minutes of maneuvering to get out without scraping the entire paintjob off of my car).

This is where the “CM” shows its ugly face. The neighbor is very vocal and open about his dislike for any vehicle crossing his property line, even for just a few seconds while a driver backs up to turn around. Matt and his landlord basically told us, that this “gentleman” gets very angry about this.

Now, this may sound like there is no problem here to some readers, but hold on a minute. Lets look at this from another perspective…

You don’t want us to touch your precious gravel with the back wheel of our cars for 10 seconds. Why ? Who fucking cares!? We aren’t rude about things, or spinning our wheels. We are NOT doing ANY damage to your property, in fact, that’s exactly what this piece of property is meant for, parking cars on!

To quote Billy Joel – “ …we might be laughing a bit too loud, but that never hurt no one”

All we want to do is back up for a second, and then drive out safely. What’s the big deal !? Well, this is the “Condo Mentality” at it’s very best. There is absolutely (read: NONE) NO reason for wanting to enforce a useless “rule” that you have made up. Welcome to the club asshole.

All this makes me want to do is to lash out towards this man. I have thought and dreamt of “returning the favour” to him, to really make him have a reason for being such a heartless prick, but will I ever do any of these things? Highly unlikely. For example;

a) Strap on a pair of cleats and run all over his lawn.

b) Get a shovel and hoe, and do a bit of gardening.

c) Sprinkle a “fertilizer” on his lawn that will turn it a nice yellow colour.

d) You get the idea….

Now, of course, I don’t want to do something like this, but, I feel sometimes as if it really is necessary. I guess I am a heartless prick myself.

As another example of the “genuine goodhearted” people of the world, I would like to share another quick story:

2. My father works for a home company where he is the “Renaissance Man” who checks out and fixes everything after a home is finished and the new homeowners move in. Now, obviously, as a homeowner of a brand new home (with beautiful wall to wall carpeting, new cabinets, and brand spanking new appliances, and sooooo close to Hwy. 401! - meant to be sarcastic), you would want everything in your home to be perfect. I can understand that, I mean you paid $200k + for it.

But my understanding only goes as far as legitimate problems and things that actually matter.

Recently, my father was asked to repaint an entire front door of someone’s new home because it was “the wrong colour”. No problems he thought as he made the 15-minute drive to the home with a can of paint and a smile to do the job. When he arrived, he looked at the door, and after determining that it was the correct colour (white), and that nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary, he asked the homeowner what he meant. The homeowner responded that the top of the door hadn’t been painted yet. My father was shocked to say the least, but responded favourably and fixed the “problem”. No problems ? Think again….

The top of the door !


The 2’’ part that no one can see, ever. Unless you got a ladder to inspect the top of the door, there was no way to tell that this problem ever existed.

Now, I will side with the homeowner for a brief second…what would the guests in my home think if they somehow found out that the top of my door was an “off-white” non-painted colour that didn’t exactly match the rest of it !?

I believe that would be the day when your friends would leave your “wine and cheese” party where the guests enjoyed a fun-filled evening of Parcheesi games, Conservative Party banter, and talking about the latest Republican fundraiser- hosted by Bill O’Reilly. They would NEVER talk to you again !

The door must be painted ! My house must be perfect ! Those are the rules.

Now, if you’ve actually been able to read this entire rant about what I find the most annoying thing in the world. I congratulate you. I’m sure it was quite a task! But, I’m not finished yet. I invite those of you brave enough to post a comment on this website about your own example of the “Condo Mentality”. Perhaps we can even get together around a campfire at Phil’s cottage in the coming weeks, sharing our loathing for the human race while everyone else has a ball partying inside ! I know I’m down. See you there!

-Ash

A lesson from Quarter Life Crisis' Own Hawkdog: How to deal with condo mentallity losers: Be a fucking asshole!

If you're not an asshole to begin with this may be difficult, as feelings of guilt will slow you down. Keep in mind the amount of sleep you lose feeling guilty for your assholish actions will be far less than the amount lost from fuming over how badly you'd like to smash the face of that condo mentality fuck head, and your list of plans, that were never carried out, to get him back.

For the example: Picture a ghetto ass apartment building in an ugly part of waterloo. It's the kind of building that struggles to maintain tenants. Leases are broken due to impending jail time and things of that nature. Needless to say there's always plenty of parking space available. However the "rules" are, only one parking spot per apartment, and no guest parking.

Due to the popularity of the cool residents of a particular unit of this building, there were always plenty of visitors requiring parking. Sometimes for matter of hours, sometimes for a matter of minutes. This caused parking conflicts. Despite debates with the parking enforcer (a resident of the building who performed the duty strictly for his own sense of authority) multiple tickets were handed out, no excuses. Thems the rules! After an obscene amount of tickets were handed out (still unpaid) and notices literally glued (We're talking elmers style, white fuckign GLUE!) to car windows, a boiling point was reached.

Quick action was taken. The result being slashed tires, keyed car panels and several other annoyances directed in the parking guys direction. This lead the parking guy to take early parking enforcer retirement. Yeah! He quit within days. You see one thing these asinine petty losers have in common is cowardess, so overrun their fear of breaking "the rules" with a good old fasioned legitimate fear of serious harm (to property and body) and the problem solves itself. Ohh, and just one final thing; Fuck that parking guy and his "thems the rules" condo mentality.

Bigsmit's experience:

I remember a day when I went to pick Ash at his Grandmother’s condo. (Most of the tenets are retired I think). Her phone was busy so I couldn’t buzz up or call to let him know I was there.

While I was trying to buzz up 2 ladies came down to exit the building but wouldn't open the lobby door. They just stood and starred at me while I was trying to buzz the apartment. Probably wishing they didn’t leave their mace at home today. Only after I left and was out of sight back in my car did they leave.

After about 20 min I said screw this were running late. So I decided to enlist the help of at least 1 of the 3 people I could see sitting on their balcony. I figured maybe they could just walk next door and knock on his Grandma's door and let him know I was waiting. They must know their neighbour they have all lived there for 10 plus years I figured (maybe I was out of line?).

The first lady was on the second floor. I stepped out of my car and said "Excuse me I wonder if" Before I finished the sentence she got up dashed inside and slammed the door so hard I was surprised the glass didn't break.
She probably proceeded to dial 9-1 and waited for a noise in the hall to indicate I was coming to accost her...to dial the final 1.

The next person simply ignored me.

Finally I got the attention of a lady who approached her railing very cautiously. She assumed I could jump 30 feet in the air and pull her over the edge I guess. Anyway she agreed to walk 15 feet and let Ash know I was there.

Once Ash got to the car he let me know that the "helpful tenet" gave him shit because I was parked in Mrs. Jones space and I should move. The helpful tenet obviously knew we would be on our way in under a minute once she told Ash I was there. However she still felt obligated harp on him because if Mrs. Jones came home we would all be in a world of shit and the Sun would crash into the earth and kill us all.

To quote Ash "The majority of these people don’t even realize that their behavior/opinions are completely ridiculous"

Well If I don't act like a paranoid freak. Or stare out my window looking for Hooligans, gossip with Martha and think every person I see is evil what else am I going to do? GET A FUCKING LIFE.
If I ever develop the "CM" smack me..even if you don’t know me.

Slim, the Male Puerto Rican Fucker

4 am and it's been hours of drinking strong.
Our conversations always end up so wrong.
Have a listen if you like,
So it's not totally boring,
I've included pictures from that night.
And videos, this poem sucked.



Enjoy a listen into our abyss.

Please just stop.....

I had a lengthy entry written about the ongoing conflict between Israel and Lebanon here, and I was about halfway through when I just couldn't continue with it anymore. I just need to say a couple things to these "leaders" sending people out to murder civilians, while they sit safely behind their armored doors.
If you guys were children, you'd be throwing a tantrum over that other kid using your toy, kicking and screaming on the ground. At least then you'd have parents to pick you up, hug you and hopefully calm you down... make you realize it really isn't worth crying over.

Stop. Please just stop. I wish I could scream that in all your faces.

We all hear the statistics on the radio, and read them in the news. We must force ourselves to understand that every statistic had a life that left more than just a number behind. A life that left a mother weeping crumpled on dusty earth, or a brother crying clinging desperately to a lifeless hand, hoping, somehow it would squeeze back. They leave a posse, just like ours, with a wound in it's heart that nothing will ever heal. My only fear is a product of that image, and I can't begin to imagine that kind of pain.

There is more to say, but it's so hopeless.

I'm done. I just can't think about it anymore, and I can barely see my screen.

I'm sorry.

Road Rage and Gawkers

Driving; it can be a relaxing journey, a fun adventure, or a stress inducing Mobile heart attack. Today as I was driving home, a gorgeous red ~1986 dodge neon come whipping up around me. As I admired its beautifully "weathered" body, and temporary spare tire on the front drivers side, I thought to myself: "Wow, what a car!. I wonder what type of fine gentleman is piloting this automobile."

As you might expect, it was a man of class and style unequalled to my eyes for as long as I can remember. He was sporting a very visibly receding hairline, and a long loose tank top that matched the gritty greyness of his teeth. This guy put Leo DiCaprio to shame. If he was a burger patty, he'd be made from 100% pure hunk.

And Boy was he in a hurry! He cut me off, and then later passed an old lady using the center "turn only" lane, jamming the pedal to the grounds and releasing the roar of the beast under his hood! It sounded like he had unleashed a whole bunch of bees in a tin can! the power was simply frightening! That's a lot of exclamations points!

I couldn't be mad at him, I'm no saint behind the wheel, and this guy had obviously had a hard day fucking animals and making child pornography. The massive quantities of rust on his "temporary" spare led me to assume that his original tire had JUST popped and he had to get it changed before it closed. If he didn't he wouldn't be home to beat his wife before she had a chance to make dinner. Nonetheless he was a good pace car so I followed him a little, trying to keep my distance.

Then, another surprise: What did I see before me? An ambulance, sirens blaring, on the opposite side of the road.
Now, because this guy was obviously in a rush driving the way he was before, I figured he'd notice the 2 green lights blaring us both in the face as we passed the accident, and we'd both continue on at our normal pace.

Not so! It appears that the sight of flashy lights instantly hypnotizes animal fucking paedophiles. This hypnotism results in slowing to 20 KM/H while blankly staring slack jawed at the scene, until someone (Me) tries to bring them back to their conscious senses with a polite tap of the horn.

The side effect of being abruptly removed from beastypaedo hypnosis is obviously rage, as I got the middle finger! Imagine! ME! Being a "turn the other cheek" type fellow, I made sure not to hold my own middle finger on the windshield then whip around him as he tried to gun it and prevent me from getting in front.
That would have been "reckless driving" and as you all know I'd never be part of that. BUT If I did do such an awful thing, rest assured I would have gotten around him with ease while hanging a thumbs down as I passed his ass, and he would have yelled things at me that would make sailors (or Ozzy) blush. He then would have backed off like a punk bitch when I let him get beside me to feed him eyes of firey hell and death awaiting. But since I'm "turn the other cheek guy" that stuff would never happen.

The rest of my drive went quite peacefully, and it gave me some time to get started mentally on how I was going share this tale with you all.

I hope you've enjoyed it. And please, don't gawk, or drive shitty cars, or have sex with children on videotape, or animals, or have bad dental hygene or go bald..

Bill, Geoffy... sorry bout that, I know, its not your fault...Sometimes those animals are "acting too damn sexy".

Interactive Post! Share your thoughts, and they'll be Added

I've decided to let all of those who read my blog to have a chance at sampling the glamorous life of a successful, hilarious, wealthy, and extraordinarily good looking, world famous Blogger. Since this person is only rumored to exist, I'll tide you all over by letting you get your own words on mine. If you can't settle for a somewhat doing okay, middle class, not butt assed ugly, not famous at all bloggers life, well you might as well end it now, because you're dreams of anything better will never come true.
Which brings me to my next point:

I am soliciting submissions! How would you spend the last week of your lives, if you knew with 100% accuracy, you were going to die in 7 days??? Tell me now!

My good friend Doc brought this idea forward, so I'll share what I can recollect of his wishes. (Doc, feel free to leave a comment correcting or adding anything I left out. I'’ve tried to do it justice.)

From what I gathered, he wants to go on an absolute rampage of excess, in all its forms. Preferable this would happen in Tokyo, or Vegas as a distant #2. The purpose being he wouldn't be aware of a single second of any of it:

Hard drugs, alcohol, rooms filled with prostitutes and every imaginable perversion would be the highlights of this "trip" (I am the punnyest man alive). There would be lines of all sorts of powders sniffed from all sorts of crevices off all sorts of women. A non stop extravaganza of Insane parties and falling over intoxication, destruction of property on a whim and an "I'll do whatever I feel like, immediately upon thinking it, and not care about the consequences whatsoever" attitude.

There was a consensus among those in the original conversation that a "bodyguard" would have to be hired, not for protection, but to ensure he gets Doc the hell out of wherever he is when something nuts goes down, before the cops get there.
Doc did NOT want to spend his last days in jail, and I don't know if he mentioned it, but he may have been willing to shoot it out with the fuzz to avoid it. I would anyways.

On the seventh day Doc rested. HA! Just kidding, Doc's not some weak lazy biatch that needs rest after seven days. He would hire a plane, and have it take him up as high as possible. Then a friend, or acquaintance would shoot his ass full of good heroin, and push him out. Imagine it: floating, high as shit, through the air to your impending doom, and enjoying every second of it. Sound like a good way to go to me.

Just so I don't seem like I completely copped out again, I'll add my own ending, because frankly, I think the first 6 days would be about the same as Docs.
On the 7th day, I would take the fastest motorcycle I would fly to San Fran, then rent the fastest motorcycle I could and drive it to the golden gate bridge. My "bodyguard" would be waiting with about 500 feet or so of extremely strong lightweight rope, and a ramp. We'd block traffic, I'd get high, and then IÂ’d get the bike up as fast as possible and jump off the bridge. Surprise! The rope would be around my neck, and when I reached the end of it, it would rip my head off my body in a sweet, bloody explosion, and my head and headless body would fall into the water below. Now thatÂ’s an ending to a good week.

This post won't be interesting unless we get a few more stories, so please leave a comment here, or e-mail me, and I'll edit the page so they are included.
Enjoy your time in the quasi spotlight, because most of you won't ever get a chance at a real one. HiOhh.

Big Smitty Has been the first, and so far only cool person to read this entry: Here is his entry, I enjoyed immenselysly (it rhymes!):

1. Grab nearest chick and give her a ride she'd remember for all eternity.

2. Drive to nearest lake with 40
pounder of rum and 2 cans of coke. Finish the bottle and watch the sun come up (If possible).

3. Repeat #1.

4. Run around naked, forcing a conversation with every person I pass.

5. Find that stripper from the falls and actually let her do what she wrote on the poster.

6. Get as many different types of drugs as possible. Dump them in a blender with a bottle of rum and make a smoothie.

7. Repeat # 1

8. Track down as many Brangilina fanatics as possible and smack each one of them.

9. On that note track down Tom Cruise, Britney Spears, Michael Jackson, David Blaine, Oprah, Ellen and George Bush and smack the shit out of them too. "Smack, Smack…Where's your Scientology now Tom…Smack, Smack"

10. Attempt to roll and smoke the world's biggest spliff.

11. I would also like to have a drink with Johnny Cash and Marlon Brando but that would have to wait until after I was dead.

12. Finally have a living wake (a party for the ages) with all my friends at a cottage and in the morning I would die. As a last request burry me with my pizza oven.

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:
Big Smitty, that was actually pretty funny. It's too bad we all know the felating pizza bed would be where you'd stay the entire time, good fantasy though.
hahahahah

David Paige said:

This Doc friend of yours has some wild ideas! I'd love to sit down and have a drink with him and hear some more about what he has to say. Regarding the seven-day-to-live scenario, my plan would have initially involved lots of quality time with friends and family, but after reading about Doc's plan, I'd have to agree with him and say that going down blazing is the way to go!! Long live guys like Doc.

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:
David Page, Nice post. It's amazing two people currently living in New South Wales, Sydney, Australia feel the same way about this, and enough so to give write a comment giving serious props. The worlds a small place. Hahahah

"Anonymous B-Rod" Said:

First off if your going to live your life to its fullest why the heck would you not want to be aware of every second you have left here on this lovely planet called earth? Though, I suppose if youÂ’re going to be blowing yourself up and all that 'fun' stuff then ok sure, I rather not feel the pain either. Especially, if you have one week to live.
Personally, I rather enjoy every second I have left breathing & have my last week be as painless as possible.
& Seriously all this hard core drinking and drug business, I mean ok unless I was into all that while still living life & not dying. Then maybe IÂ’d have a difference of opinion. But for me it's like why waste all that money on crap, when in the end all you're going to do is kill yourself before life kills you? I see it as a sign of fear...your trying to control the inevitable.

My ideal way to exit this life would be much less extravagant, I suppose. So lets say I take all that money...assuming this 'Doc' paid for any of it to begin with, if not WELL then IÂ’d just gather up all my savings...give what-ever amount to friends & family, along with personal possessions, the rest I would use for me..& Then Travel the entire effin' world see all the places I haven't had the pleasure of visiting, making sure I see the ones on my TO SEE LIST first.

Basically, seeing the world with my own two eyes & experiencing it not just hearing it via some radio or friend or what have you, as well as not just watching it from the T.V BUT actually PERSONALLY exploring the various cultures & broadening my view on life thus far. On my last day I would probably want to return to the comforts of my own home, spend my last hours with those who have meant the world to me AKA, close family & friends, because really these are the people who have made my life worth living thus far.

Before IÂ’d die, I would want to make amends with the things that I had been to chicken shitted to say & just say it out loud & make sure certain messages get to certain people. After that I am willing to die a peaceful death, in my own home, with friends & family there....my final wishes would be to have my ashes thrown out into one of the oceans.

Haha yea I know not as hardcore as the guys' version, but IÂ’m female...& well, view things differently I suppose.... hopefully that was interesting enough.

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:

And that my friends, proves our point. Girls aren't funny.
It also seems they lack the ability to judge how long things take to do, girls can't even Die right..

Thanks for the post anonymous! We look forward to many more!


"Anonymous B-Rods" Rebuttal:

HA alrighty "Ghetto Booty Thrills", i really wasn't looking for 'funny' points there or anything...and by the way please explain how my post goes to generalize all girls?...i am after all one female out of many...& it was feedback from just MOI..judge me as you wish...that's just your opinion toward me.
Clearly it was stated: "How would you spend the last week of your lives, if you knew with 100% accuracy, you were going to die in 7 days???" ---> Now, correct me if i'm wrong, but does it say anywhere that funny was a requirement? ...No y'all just wanted some feedback in return..and well i decided to add mine.

& to comment on the whole generalization that we girls seem to "lack the ability to judge how long it takes to do things"...well my defence to this would simply be that in my response i did say MY IDEAL way ..meaning that IF i could have it my way....
Ne whos goes to show guys will be guys...am i surprised? ..haha definately not.
LOL

"Ghetto Booty Thrills" Comments:

Great response, and I mean that in a totally serious way. In fact, I looked up your IP because I was impressed, and it said you are from Mimico, Ontario. Where the FUCK is Mimico, and who are you! Reveal yourself please. You deserve proper recognition.

Thanks again for the comments! Keep em' coming.

Niagara Falls: The Bimbo of cities

Approach this post with caution, as it isn't funny. I tried, but I sucked. It does contain a healthy portion of rant, which may amuse, or annoy you. You've been forwarned.

This past weekend we visited Niagara Falls. This place is like huggies, completely disposable, but not biodegradable.
I was involved in a Friday night/Early Saturday Morning "event" that I thought was going to go quite well. Unfortunately, it just ended up solidifying the idea for this blog in my mind.
I know you’re all curious what I got into, but the reality is, I didn't get "into" anything, which was part of the problem. HA!
All I can say is I got stuck for a brief time in a conversation so brutal the plate glass door and second floor balcony fall were looking like a viable escape plan to lighten the pain of the monstrous stupidity I was being malled by.

So why is Niagara one of those gorgeous people you just want to bone right up until they open their mouths? (To speak anyhow... BOOYAH!) I am on FIRE!

Because the town took this:













An absolutely glorious "wonder of the world" type beauty of nature.


And then they go and plaster this (and worse) all over its ass:

I’m no historian, but I’d bet dollars to donuts the planning of the town moved along as follows:
Sir Jesimpson: "Like, cast your eyes on this wondrous sight, Lord Parisilton"
Lord Parisilton: "Mine eyes are totally filled with such glory beyond that which I have ever seen, It hath beauty stronger than like the nicest prada bag I've ever seen."
Sir Jesimpson: "Those are totally strong Words, but I am like in agreement Sir."
Lord Parisilton: "We must share such a triumph of nature with like, all the lands."
Sir Jesimpson: " Yes, It is totally our duty and stuff. But first, We should like totally construct a town with luxuries for the commoners, and comforts so plenty it will draw crowds from around the world"
Lord Parisilton: "You mean like, totally plaster the place with a million roach motels, awful American fast-food and "family dinning" restaurant chains, whorehouses and identically terrible souvenir stores selling garbage?"
Sir Jesimpson: "Throw in some gambling and ensure the place is raped of any sliver of individuality, culture or substance, and you got yourself a deal."
Lord Parisilton: "We shall make it so!"
Sir Jesimpson: " Like totally!"
And so it went, and the masses they did come, and they LOVE it. Reinforcing again, my point that “the vast majority of people are fucking idiots.”

To wrap it all up: Seeing the falls for the first time is spotting that gorgeous gal, or lad. Then as you walk up to talk to them, you hit Clifton hill, and that’s the part where they open their mouths (to talk). Heart breaking.

MINDFREAK!