grat foll

I found this in my yard in the spring -

********************************
I n know I shouldn't
ask you. be cous I did not see you
in for so long. and I don't want to
be a bou bug. but can I ask you for $15.00
I woud be so grat foll.

I love you so much.
*******************************

all crinkled up on foolscap paper in the corner of my yard.
I don't know which I want more, a love like that or the $15.00.

I am, I am, I am superman

low-lights from this weekend:

- singing an acapella version of "All out of Love" by Air Supply at a house party last night
- thinking that singing an acapella version of "All out of Love" by Air Supply was a highly amusing and cool thing to do
- "Indian leg wrestling" with Jenn with the crowd chanting "take it easy on Nicki, she's never done this before"
- being flipped on my neck in approximately 1/2 a second by "Iron Legs Wildeman"
- waking up this morning feeling like Christopher Reeves

the k-os theory

A word of advice - the Bess Gardens serves Great West beer in cans. Do yourself a favour and pack in some cold ones.

golf, music, rain

Day 2 of my 3 day adventure-packed long weekend -
Yesterday was our annual Golf Tourney for work. I didn't golf, but was in charge of prizes for the day, longest drive closest putt something something something else related to golfing. Am I the only person in the world that doesn't golf? Weird. Then a few of us went to Jim's house for drinks and after about an hour I started to freak out and just needed to get the hell out of there. Why am I partying in Briarwood in a $400,000 house with a supervisor and his 9 yr old kids? Why the fuck am I in Briarwood to begin with? Something about all those beige fancy houses makes me claustrophobic - give me a run down shack anyday over that monotonous treeless existence. It also didn't help that Jim's wife kept telling me about how she used to party with my dead father. I mean, god, could you have any less tact? Anyway, I convinced Darrin that he should lend me his Jeep for the night and after a quick pit stop at Jenn's I was home by midnight and asleep shortly after. Took the Jeep back this morning, went for a greasy breakfast with the boys that had been partying all night, and now am getting ready for the Latin Gardens with Los Lobos behind the Bessborough. It's kind of raining and grey, but that's ok too.
Maybe I'll pack some baileys for fortification.

nsfw pt. 2 (octopussy)

Good thing it's Saturday. Welcome to the Bad Girls Hotel.

nsfw

A fun little memory game for a cold blustery friday.

Girls, click here.
Boys, click here.

Or vice-versa if you're so inclined. Or both.
(thanks, jenn, for pointing this one out).

fuck you, coldplay

I picked up Coldplay's new album at Future Shop today, I've been wanting to get it for a while now. Battle the traffic to Preston Crossing (oh how I love crossing 4 lanes of traffic in 1/2 a city block off an overpass) and back, finally slap the disc in my stereo, and the fucking thing won't play. Oh! They're so fucking special that they need "copywrite control" on their new disc so that people won't steal their music, so instead I pay the big bucks to buy the thing and all I get out of it is "invalid disc". Oh sure, my stereo is only a discman hooked up to a 1969 Sony reel-to-reel amplifier, but who the fuck are they to tell me that my sound system doesn't suffice? Are they going to pay for my gas to get back over there to return it? Cuz you'd better believe I'm asking for my money back. And, just because I can, I'm downloading the "bonus track" that came with the disc and keeping it.
Fuck you, Coldplay. Expect my bill in the mail.

it's electric

Holy freaking lightening storm, batman. Good thing I work in an industry that is completely affected by the weather. And work this morning is nuts, with about 10 areas down across the city and lines dangling and fuses blown and manhole alarms ringing and bitchy maintenance techs everywhere. I woke up this morning in a panic with my alarm clock flashing and the sun shining brightly through the window. I started to freak out cuz I had no idea if I had slept in for work or not that I had to get up for at 8:30. Went and checked the other clocks and they were all flashing different times. Picked up the cordless phone and couldn't even get a dial tone to phone "time" to see what was going on. In my sleepy confusion I thought I had no phone service, and thought as well that only 2 lights on my modem meant that my cable and internet were down too. "Holy shit I'm stranded! I can't find out what time it is with any of my fancy technology!" Then I remembered that my watch was in my bag, so I checked it out, and it was only 7am. Reset the alarm clock, went back to sleep for an hour and 1/2. Dreamed of concrete vaults and heartache. Realized that cordless phones don't work when you have no power, and 2 modem lights when the computer is off is a good thing.

damn these glasses get around

1 night spent out of town this summer down, 284 more to go.

two words

bran works.

that sure would buy me a nice new car

"A study showed that the world military budget was about $1,035,000,000,000 in 2004; the United States accounted for nearly half of that."

How much is that? A billion? A trillion? I can't even count that high.

I dreamed I went to a masquerade

I got a new brassiere today, it's hot pink and lacy.
I also sat outside in my newly retailored yard for a few hours this morning and turned my shoulders a similar shade of pink. (note to self - do not go bra shopping with freshly burned shoulders ever again.)

an ode to the tim horton's girls

Oh nubile beauties,
how I love the way you bring me
perfect coffee
every morning,
or as often as I will allow myself your subtle sublimity.

Your hair nets!
Your bad pleated tan pants!
Your visors can do nothing to
hide your troops of
fresh-faced fillies
wishing me nothing but the best of days
and perfect change, every time.

ooh, brigitte

rockstar karaoke

So, the Roxy on Broadway (aka the Wash & Slosh minus the laundry machines) now has Rockstar Karoake on tuesday nights. For the low, low cost of nothing! you can get on stage with the boys from Slab Drab and sing your heart out with a real live band. Yah, the monitor sound is pretty shitty but it's fun getting up there nonetheless. You can tell it's a rock 'n roll bar though, I've never seen a song selection quite like it. Metallica, ZZ Top, Sex Pistols, Guns 'N Roses, Black Sabbath, Skid Row, AC/DC, oh and "Luka" by Suzanne Vega just to round the list out. And every third month they draw for a trip for 2 to sing at the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay, Las Vegas. Me and Jenn went to the HOB for RSK while we were in LV, and it was pretty lame, actually, lots of drunk 21yr old blonde trust-fund girlies and 40yr old men in matching Hawaiian shirts. Fucking tourists. But if you're looking for entertainment on a tuesday night in Saskatoon, the Roxy is the place to be. Bring your mullet and earplugs.

they're baaack!

Praise the lord and pass the mescaline, Six Feet Under is back on the air. I remember thinking "I have to wait how stinking long?" when the last episode aired, and all of a sudden it's back to rock my little world once again. Fuck I love this show.

In other news, I finally got my garden in. Well, a good chunk of it anyways. After not enough sleep on Saturday night I dragged myself out of bed to go help with tear-down of the relay tent. Turns out they started at 6am, so there wasn't much to do at 9:30 besides eat a free breakfast of cold sausages and pancakes and watch the awards ceremony. Came home, watched some bad tv, then met up with Jenn for a bit of shopping and then back to my place for 4 hours of intensive yardwork. Dug up the whole front flower bed and planted garlic chives, cilantro, red flax flowers, and columbine. Mowed the 10,000 feet of boulevard grass with my 1956 Sunbeam electric mower. Dug some hills for zucchini in the back, too. Now I'm stiff as can be from this crazy weekend, and wish with all my might that the B.P.F. founder was in town. But that's not the case, so I'll have to settle for a hot bath and some strong imagination. G'night, ya'll.

it's a nice night for a relay

I started at 1pm and finished at 1:30am, so relay, my 24 hr relay turned into a 12 1/2 hr relay. Now my feet are aching, I'm crapping out shitty chicken fingers, pistachios and beer, and I need to get some sleep to be back in the morning for tear-down. What fun. Remind me not to sign up for this one next year. See, the way I figure it is - if you don't sign up beforehand and just happen to stop by during the event to have a drink and do a lap or two, everyone figures you're a hero! And if you do sign up beforehand and then don't raise enough funds or contribute enough or only make it for half of the 24 hrs, you're a let-down. Hmm... which one of these choices would be the smarter one?

And today's suggestion for a better world? For the love of pete and my lily-white ass make the freakin' porta-potties boys OR girls, not unisex in every stall. Cuz when guys get a few drinks in them, it's generally a free-for-all with the piss. So not cool.

and p.s. dave it didn't rain!

24 Hr Relay

why oh why oh why oh why did I sign up for this thing? If I wanted to drink with the folks from work, I could have just shown up for a couple of hours to hang out with them. I could have planned a night out with them some other weekend. I might have even brought some liquor into work one day. But now I'm committed to 24 hrs of walking and drinking and freezing in the forecasted rain and making my whole weekend a complete write-off. All I want to do is plant a garden, dammit. I don't want to decorate a tent Gilligan's Island style and fundraise and host barbeques and garage sales and generally feel guilty that I'm not contributing enough to the cause. Plus this week has been insanely busy at work and I don't feel like I got enough done last weekend and my car is still giving me grief and and and...

whew. not enough downtime = one grumpy nicki