Toronto Tightens Trousers....maybe
I am mystified as to how Toronto city is verging on broke. It's the financial capital of Canada. It controls Canada's money. The streets are teeming with merchant bankers. Bay Street is literally made of money. Taxes are high. Housing is expensive. Blowing your nose is probably taxed, yet, the city does not have any money. Various services have been cut, the subway faces line closures and increased prices and there is increasing pressure to increase home and vehicle taxes.
Someone needs to get hold of the city accounting books and have a good read of them. Are they getting 5th Graders to do their accounting? Obviously, not the kids on the show 'Are you Smarter Than a 5th Grader?', as they have proven themselves time and time again that they are indeed smarter than the American adult population.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Thursday, September 06, 2007
So I got the video up after a lifetime of trying and never bothered to comment on it. This is what technology does to me. It takes so long to 'work things out' that I am too bored/tired/apathetic to act on the result when it FINALLY appears. I have been trying to load videos for the last 3 weeks and each time they failed. I understand "videoing" is still at the experimental level with Blogger but they did nothing but tease me for three whole weeks. I even purposely left the house looking for things to record and that was when I discovered there wasn't all that much going on and that there was no way the camera had enough space for me to do the artsy "American Beauty' plastic bag in the air thing. So I captured part of my commuter trip from Toronto to Whitby. Every morning and evening the train runs along the banks and beaches of Lake Ontario and each time it never fails to take my breath away. Early in the morning I watch the sun start to peak over the surface while on the way home the blue of the water seems to stretch forever. On sunny days, the water is a cornflower blue whereas on stormy days it is an angry swirling mass of grey. My moment of Zen is always welcome on my trip home seeing as I usually sharing the carriage with the extras from 'Grease". There are three ladies that take the same train as me each working day and they do not know the meaning of 'inside voices'. They roar at the tops of their voices about how great their kids are. Such oral treats range from, 'I just had to buy this book for little Emily. She's only 1 but has such a grasp of English and loves monkeys and communicates with her big words and hasn't signed in months and might join Mensa and is a genius and is sprinting not walking and will definitely start ballet tomorrow and we will so tell the Bolshoi about her and she will obviously be top of her class and she pooed solids today' to 'Jack learned French in two days'. Well, maybe not quite, but the basic premise of their conversations is to bash the other Mom's kids and operate as one woman advertising billboards for their little darlings. I am quite sure that little Emily and Little Jack are still lying horizontal and a long way from vertical stances. Therefore, I do not care about the antics of their offspring and don't wish to be unwillingly exposed to them. Ah yes, I mentioned that they look like they are all 'Grease' extras. I shall explain. Remember Rizzo? Yeah? Well these three ladies look like they are modeling themselves on her. Same giant hair, same make up, same walk, same voice same everything and it drives me mental. Anyday now I am expecting the three of them to launch into the Grease Megamix.
Quebec!
I indulged in some extreme cottaging this Labour Day weekend. Those of you that know me are only too aware of my penchant for comfortable living. Therefore the notion of camping/ staying in a cottage for a whole weekend without running water is enough to send me running to the Ritz Carlton just to make sure all is right with the world. (Reading back over that sentence would make one think I was dripping Cartier and Gucci whereas I am more commonly draped in Accessorize and H&M). Anyway, the love of my life had signed me up for a weekend of outhouses and lake water and I was none too happy about that situation and regularly vocalised my disdain for such a trip over the course of the week. I think my moaning went along the lines of, "I work my backside off so don't want to waste my weekend off searching for water" and "What do you think I am? A Neanderthal?". All wonderful points, but nothing was deterring Ian. We were going and that was the end of it. The cottage belongs to the parents of a friend of Ian and is located in Quebec. The thought of getting to hear and blabber some French for a few days certainly played an important role in convincing me to go. So, on Friday evening after work, with my work colleagues wishing me God speed, Ian and I took off to Ottawa, full throttle ahead. And then we came to a stop as traffic was so ridiculous. This is something that fascinates me about Canadians. They must be the only people in the world that will willingly sit in their cars for hours and hours on end just to drive from one of the major Canadian cities to the middle of nowhere to spend two days cleaning, painting and restocking their cottage only to get back into their cars and resume the same ridiculous journey home. It's not like their cities are heavily polluted, overcrowded or filthy. It just seems to be the done thing to have a cottage on the side of a lake to visit of a weekend while risking a coronary from going mental with traffic. Each to their own I guess. The Irish either do a summer house on the West coast ( complete with gale force winds that will rip the paint of the front wall for free) or in the South of Spain along with all your neighbours from the estate back home. At least the Irish get to fly....even if it is with Ryanair.
Anyway back to the cottage. Once we got to Ottawa we stayed overnight with Ian's friend and his girlfriend and the next morning set off for Quebec. It was quite exciting to drive to the province and see all signs in French and noticing that driving skills travel well from one continent to another. The French in France appear to have taught the French in Quebec that driving like a madman, shaking your fist, yelling out the window and disregarding every single traffic law ever slapped on paper is the only way to drive. However, we got there alive. Instead of droning on and on and on and... I will post some pictures of the weekend and comment.
GODDAMMIT!! The pictures are REFUSING to appear in chronological order. Stupid technology. I shall persevere.
Below we have the outhouse. The only negative aspect of the loo with the view was the rather disconcerting breeze up my bum each time I sat on it. Still though, how pretty a walk is it to the outhouse. Perfection...of some odd sort.
The interior of aforementioned outhouse complete with double ply toilet paper. Always nice to have a little hint of luxury to distract you from thinking about all the spiders crawling up your bottom.
Ryan was CONVINCED that he had shards of glass stuck between his teeth. However, after careful inspecting by his wife, Helen, it was determined that he had a chipped tooth as a result of drinking his beer from the bottle without using his hands. Deeerrr.
I was in bed when the trolls were brought out. Apparently there was an impromptu photo session. This is the cleanest photo I could find. The other pictures are not suitable for public viewing.
Seeing as we were cooking outside ( of course when I say 'we' you know that doesn't include me... I am to cooking what Posh Spice is to Mensa), and would need to light a fire each night ( dropping temperatures) it was necessary to cut some firewood. The men present had quite the fun time hacking wood to pieces. They all made sterling efforts, even Ryan, who made a swing at a log with the blunt end. The picture below shows Ian prepping for a chop with the cabin in the background. It's not finished yet, hence the lack of siding. It was also amusing to watch them throw the smaller axe at tree trunks, tomahawk style. At least they had fun.......................
Cooking, for the most part, was done outdoors by Marty and Karina. Note me sitting at a safe distance. I can burn food just by looking at it.
Mental picture. Apparently the cobweb effect thingies contain tent caterpillars that soon will plop to earth from the trees and clear Quebec of its vegetation. Aren't they adorable.
If you can get around the image of Marty on a rock with the beer you can see where we went swimming. I have regained feeling in my limbs again. It was ever so cold. I insisted I was fine with roars of, "Shur aren't I Irish! We wash in wathhher like this".
Artsy fartsy fire shot by not so artsy fartsy Ian
Despite all my moaning I had a very enjoyable weekend. It was incredible to sit out in the silence of the day on the wing bench reading my book while simultaneously stuffing my face with junk food making it all the more difficult to remove myself from the swing bench. I even got to grips with the outhouse and the lack of a shower. That said I was rather pleased to have a wash on Monday- the hypothermic conditions of the lake didn't do a lot for me. However, the most fin was had from all of us playing Cranium. If there is one board game to get this year, this is it. It is the best game I have played in years.
I indulged in some extreme cottaging this Labour Day weekend. Those of you that know me are only too aware of my penchant for comfortable living. Therefore the notion of camping/ staying in a cottage for a whole weekend without running water is enough to send me running to the Ritz Carlton just to make sure all is right with the world. (Reading back over that sentence would make one think I was dripping Cartier and Gucci whereas I am more commonly draped in Accessorize and H&M). Anyway, the love of my life had signed me up for a weekend of outhouses and lake water and I was none too happy about that situation and regularly vocalised my disdain for such a trip over the course of the week. I think my moaning went along the lines of, "I work my backside off so don't want to waste my weekend off searching for water" and "What do you think I am? A Neanderthal?". All wonderful points, but nothing was deterring Ian. We were going and that was the end of it. The cottage belongs to the parents of a friend of Ian and is located in Quebec. The thought of getting to hear and blabber some French for a few days certainly played an important role in convincing me to go. So, on Friday evening after work, with my work colleagues wishing me God speed, Ian and I took off to Ottawa, full throttle ahead. And then we came to a stop as traffic was so ridiculous. This is something that fascinates me about Canadians. They must be the only people in the world that will willingly sit in their cars for hours and hours on end just to drive from one of the major Canadian cities to the middle of nowhere to spend two days cleaning, painting and restocking their cottage only to get back into their cars and resume the same ridiculous journey home. It's not like their cities are heavily polluted, overcrowded or filthy. It just seems to be the done thing to have a cottage on the side of a lake to visit of a weekend while risking a coronary from going mental with traffic. Each to their own I guess. The Irish either do a summer house on the West coast ( complete with gale force winds that will rip the paint of the front wall for free) or in the South of Spain along with all your neighbours from the estate back home. At least the Irish get to fly....even if it is with Ryanair.
Anyway back to the cottage. Once we got to Ottawa we stayed overnight with Ian's friend and his girlfriend and the next morning set off for Quebec. It was quite exciting to drive to the province and see all signs in French and noticing that driving skills travel well from one continent to another. The French in France appear to have taught the French in Quebec that driving like a madman, shaking your fist, yelling out the window and disregarding every single traffic law ever slapped on paper is the only way to drive. However, we got there alive. Instead of droning on and on and on and... I will post some pictures of the weekend and comment.
GODDAMMIT!! The pictures are REFUSING to appear in chronological order. Stupid technology. I shall persevere.
Below we have the outhouse. The only negative aspect of the loo with the view was the rather disconcerting breeze up my bum each time I sat on it. Still though, how pretty a walk is it to the outhouse. Perfection...of some odd sort.
The interior of aforementioned outhouse complete with double ply toilet paper. Always nice to have a little hint of luxury to distract you from thinking about all the spiders crawling up your bottom.
Ryan was CONVINCED that he had shards of glass stuck between his teeth. However, after careful inspecting by his wife, Helen, it was determined that he had a chipped tooth as a result of drinking his beer from the bottle without using his hands. Deeerrr.
I was in bed when the trolls were brought out. Apparently there was an impromptu photo session. This is the cleanest photo I could find. The other pictures are not suitable for public viewing.
Seeing as we were cooking outside ( of course when I say 'we' you know that doesn't include me... I am to cooking what Posh Spice is to Mensa), and would need to light a fire each night ( dropping temperatures) it was necessary to cut some firewood. The men present had quite the fun time hacking wood to pieces. They all made sterling efforts, even Ryan, who made a swing at a log with the blunt end. The picture below shows Ian prepping for a chop with the cabin in the background. It's not finished yet, hence the lack of siding. It was also amusing to watch them throw the smaller axe at tree trunks, tomahawk style. At least they had fun.......................
Cooking, for the most part, was done outdoors by Marty and Karina. Note me sitting at a safe distance. I can burn food just by looking at it.
Mental picture. Apparently the cobweb effect thingies contain tent caterpillars that soon will plop to earth from the trees and clear Quebec of its vegetation. Aren't they adorable.
If you can get around the image of Marty on a rock with the beer you can see where we went swimming. I have regained feeling in my limbs again. It was ever so cold. I insisted I was fine with roars of, "Shur aren't I Irish! We wash in wathhher like this".
Artsy fartsy fire shot by not so artsy fartsy Ian
Despite all my moaning I had a very enjoyable weekend. It was incredible to sit out in the silence of the day on the wing bench reading my book while simultaneously stuffing my face with junk food making it all the more difficult to remove myself from the swing bench. I even got to grips with the outhouse and the lack of a shower. That said I was rather pleased to have a wash on Monday- the hypothermic conditions of the lake didn't do a lot for me. However, the most fin was had from all of us playing Cranium. If there is one board game to get this year, this is it. It is the best game I have played in years.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I went clothes shopping on Saturday. N.I.G.H.T.M.A.R.E Sometimes I think I really am a man as I detest clothes shopping. How on earth can trying on clothes be considered fun or therapy. You spend half an hour picking out something to try on, another 15 minutes trying to work out your size, give up and bring in all sizes with you only for the Power Hound at the changing room door inform you that you can only bring in 4 items to which you throw an almighty strop, bring in the 4 items, try them on, realise you have vastly underestimated what size you are, force the items on anyway, penguin waddle your way out to the Hound with vast quantities of flesh on show to get the other 4, waddle back in fearing death by lack of oxygen if you don't get the tighties off soon, try on the other 4 and almost drown in the sea of material, consider the fact that no one makes clothes in your size, give up, leave the store, get a coffee and sit staring with hatred at anyone that has correctly fitted clothing on themselves.
However, the Gap came up trumps for me. The changing room goon was rather ungoon like, more gay like and took great joy in dressing me, flitting from changing room to floor in quite the bouncy fashion. I think he was a little disappointed that I only purchased one item. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I only wanted one pair of pants not the entire Fall collection.
I ventured to the swanky Yorkville area of Toronto. The closest I got to Versace jeans was leaving my breath mark on their very clean window. Not anymore it ain't.
However, the Gap came up trumps for me. The changing room goon was rather ungoon like, more gay like and took great joy in dressing me, flitting from changing room to floor in quite the bouncy fashion. I think he was a little disappointed that I only purchased one item. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I only wanted one pair of pants not the entire Fall collection.
I ventured to the swanky Yorkville area of Toronto. The closest I got to Versace jeans was leaving my breath mark on their very clean window. Not anymore it ain't.
Commuter Observations
If you are going to stand on the left side of the subway escalator get the hell out of my way when I come torpedoing behind you trying to catch my train.
If the door says "pull" it is highly unlikely that it will "push".
Please have your subway tokens or passes ready before you reach the machine so I can actually make it to my train some time this decade.
Stop bringing toddlers and push chairs on crammed subways during rush hours. No one appreciates it and you only give yourselves high blood pressure making sure little Jimmy doesn't get the wrong end of a briefcase across the face.
The door that says "Entry" does not become "Exit" simply because you are in a rush.
Coffee guy at the commuter train station- you rock. At 6.30am you always have a smile for me and that I appreciate.
If you are going to stand on the left side of the subway escalator get the hell out of my way when I come torpedoing behind you trying to catch my train.
If the door says "pull" it is highly unlikely that it will "push".
Please have your subway tokens or passes ready before you reach the machine so I can actually make it to my train some time this decade.
Stop bringing toddlers and push chairs on crammed subways during rush hours. No one appreciates it and you only give yourselves high blood pressure making sure little Jimmy doesn't get the wrong end of a briefcase across the face.
The door that says "Entry" does not become "Exit" simply because you are in a rush.
Coffee guy at the commuter train station- you rock. At 6.30am you always have a smile for me and that I appreciate.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Ian's Niece's Christening
Ian's little niece was christened a few weeks ago and here is the photographic evidence. Her squished up little face hides the fact that she is quite the adorable rugrat and enjoys posing for pictures. It was one hell of a hot summer day so Ian was out of his shirt and trousers combo as soon as the pastor ended the prayer marathon. I, however, chose to remain in christening chic.
Ian's little niece was christened a few weeks ago and here is the photographic evidence. Her squished up little face hides the fact that she is quite the adorable rugrat and enjoys posing for pictures. It was one hell of a hot summer day so Ian was out of his shirt and trousers combo as soon as the pastor ended the prayer marathon. I, however, chose to remain in christening chic.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Geography Ralph Wiggum Style
So I sent a package to England last week. On the package I addressed it to "England" and on the custom declaration form I wrote "United Kingdom"
The package was returned to me with a note saying that I needed to specify a country in order to facilitate international delivery.
What in the name of all that is good and holy are people taught in schools here. I have repeatedly explained to so called well educated Canadians that I am NOT British or English, that I am in fact Irish with many of them failing to notice the difference. Even more horrifying is that a substantial number are unaware of a sea separating Ireland and the United Kingdom.
So I sent a package to England last week. On the package I addressed it to "England" and on the custom declaration form I wrote "United Kingdom"
The package was returned to me with a note saying that I needed to specify a country in order to facilitate international delivery.
What in the name of all that is good and holy are people taught in schools here. I have repeatedly explained to so called well educated Canadians that I am NOT British or English, that I am in fact Irish with many of them failing to notice the difference. Even more horrifying is that a substantial number are unaware of a sea separating Ireland and the United Kingdom.
Calling Blog Care Services
Were this blog a child it would be extracted from my care by social services on the grounds of abandonment and I would be slapped with jail time, no doubt. However, like the well prepared accused I do have an excuse- Moving. It took a lot out of Ian and I, probably more so me seeing as I would rather give over a limb than actually indulge in the insanity that is shipping ones life from one outpost to another. Nevertheless it has been done- furniture is in place, only a few bits and pieces are lacking and some boxes are still lying unwanted on the floor with ne'er a sign of ever being unpacked. I have, however, discovered that I am residing with Martha Stewart. My wonderful Ian has become chef extraordinaire and is hell bent on creating a 'cosy home' whether I want one or not. There has been talk of wall hangings, accent walls and other such nonsense. I am from the school of simplicity or, or in chic fashion lingo, "minimalism" and so am not too pushed about the placement of various pictures on the walls. The only area of decorating that I will wield my fist of iron in will be that to do with the hanging of my black and white pictures from Vietnam. They shall be placed with the precision of an art gallery wannabe.
Moving might have been a little smoother had the mattress delivery men been able to tell the difference between queen and double. The mattress fits but the box spring might be able to sleep one of Snow White's dwarfs at a push. I have no idea how such people manage to get jobs. Before anyone asks why I didn't complain at the initial moment of delivery I must add that Ian and I were not here and that it was Mrs. King who had the 'joy' of dealing with Canada's Worst Delivery Ma. She questioned the size to which the mattress cretin said "Well I can't do anything about it". It seems we would have to magic up the mattress delivery fairies. Mind you it did feel good yelling down the phone at a store representative. Deeeelightful. I like yelling.
Were this blog a child it would be extracted from my care by social services on the grounds of abandonment and I would be slapped with jail time, no doubt. However, like the well prepared accused I do have an excuse- Moving. It took a lot out of Ian and I, probably more so me seeing as I would rather give over a limb than actually indulge in the insanity that is shipping ones life from one outpost to another. Nevertheless it has been done- furniture is in place, only a few bits and pieces are lacking and some boxes are still lying unwanted on the floor with ne'er a sign of ever being unpacked. I have, however, discovered that I am residing with Martha Stewart. My wonderful Ian has become chef extraordinaire and is hell bent on creating a 'cosy home' whether I want one or not. There has been talk of wall hangings, accent walls and other such nonsense. I am from the school of simplicity or, or in chic fashion lingo, "minimalism" and so am not too pushed about the placement of various pictures on the walls. The only area of decorating that I will wield my fist of iron in will be that to do with the hanging of my black and white pictures from Vietnam. They shall be placed with the precision of an art gallery wannabe.
Moving might have been a little smoother had the mattress delivery men been able to tell the difference between queen and double. The mattress fits but the box spring might be able to sleep one of Snow White's dwarfs at a push. I have no idea how such people manage to get jobs. Before anyone asks why I didn't complain at the initial moment of delivery I must add that Ian and I were not here and that it was Mrs. King who had the 'joy' of dealing with Canada's Worst Delivery Ma. She questioned the size to which the mattress cretin said "Well I can't do anything about it". It seems we would have to magic up the mattress delivery fairies. Mind you it did feel good yelling down the phone at a store representative. Deeeelightful. I like yelling.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Hear Ye, Hear Ye
I have been a busy little bee over the last few days and have failed miserably to get the jumbled events in my head onto ye olde bloge. There are lots of things for me to get around to such as Sienna's christening, mattress shopping, stereotyping, packing, moving, work and so much more. However, lazyitis has gotten the better of me and so I shall put finger to key upon the morrow and give this blog a kickstart.
I have been a busy little bee over the last few days and have failed miserably to get the jumbled events in my head onto ye olde bloge. There are lots of things for me to get around to such as Sienna's christening, mattress shopping, stereotyping, packing, moving, work and so much more. However, lazyitis has gotten the better of me and so I shall put finger to key upon the morrow and give this blog a kickstart.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Bleurgh
Eileen is not feeling well. Churning stomach. Nausea. The works. Praying I don't have the nasty stomach flu doing the rounds. I cannot get sick. Tomorrow sees lunch with my team at Milestones.
Eileen is not feeling well. Churning stomach. Nausea. The works. Praying I don't have the nasty stomach flu doing the rounds. I cannot get sick. Tomorrow sees lunch with my team at Milestones.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Mr. T
Tim Horton's Coffee
The Canadian eau de vie. A rather cheap lifeline when compared to its competitors.
Tim Horton's Coffee
The Canadian eau de vie. A rather cheap lifeline when compared to its competitors.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Kawffee
I noticed today that under the name of my blog there is the suggestion that I can offer invaluable Canadian tips. I haven't yet mastered the art of catching a moose. That is still a work in progress. So part of the tagline is redundant. Possibly false advertising, but when I catch my moose and wow you with my tales of entrapment, then who'll be laughing? Eh?
Instead I shall offer Canadian tip #534.
Canadians cannot function without at least one Tim Hortons a day. It's the other food group. The other white meat. The other giver of life. The other main vein. The preferred alternative to illegal substances. The obliteration of Tim Hortons would bring about the rather prompt fall of Canadian society.
Oh you can laugh.
But it's true.
I noticed today that under the name of my blog there is the suggestion that I can offer invaluable Canadian tips. I haven't yet mastered the art of catching a moose. That is still a work in progress. So part of the tagline is redundant. Possibly false advertising, but when I catch my moose and wow you with my tales of entrapment, then who'll be laughing? Eh?
Instead I shall offer Canadian tip #534.
Canadians cannot function without at least one Tim Hortons a day. It's the other food group. The other white meat. The other giver of life. The other main vein. The preferred alternative to illegal substances. The obliteration of Tim Hortons would bring about the rather prompt fall of Canadian society.
Oh you can laugh.
But it's true.
The Shame.
This morning I fell asleep on the commuter train. Not just any ol' attempt at sleeping- it was full on snoring and drooling sleeping. Normally, I reserve such a display for the assembled duvet and pillow audience, but not this time. Canadians are such a polite bunch, at least the people sitting around me, that no-one gave me a nudge to wake me up or to shut me up. I cut quite the stylish figure what with my face pressed against the window of the carriage, giving my snores, what I can only imagine to be, a beautiful echoing quality. I awoke with a start when the annoucer yelled, (he must have known I was perfecting my Sleeping Beauty impersonation), over the intercom that we had arrived in Union Station. I shot up in my seat, hair akimbo, make up successfully transferred to window, mouth wide open, with strand of saliva connecting my tongue to said window. And people wonder what Ian sees in me.
My trip home was much more successful. I was aware that I did not stand a chance against the might of sleep so I cleverly set my alarm to ring at 5.25pm, leaving me a full 5 minutes to arrange myself before arrival at Whitby. However, I had forgotten that I had set my alarm to nerve shattering loud so when the offensive little thing went off in my hand, I threw it from my fist in shock right onto the lap of the gentleman sitting opposite me.
My Go Train image is in tatters
This morning I fell asleep on the commuter train. Not just any ol' attempt at sleeping- it was full on snoring and drooling sleeping. Normally, I reserve such a display for the assembled duvet and pillow audience, but not this time. Canadians are such a polite bunch, at least the people sitting around me, that no-one gave me a nudge to wake me up or to shut me up. I cut quite the stylish figure what with my face pressed against the window of the carriage, giving my snores, what I can only imagine to be, a beautiful echoing quality. I awoke with a start when the annoucer yelled, (he must have known I was perfecting my Sleeping Beauty impersonation), over the intercom that we had arrived in Union Station. I shot up in my seat, hair akimbo, make up successfully transferred to window, mouth wide open, with strand of saliva connecting my tongue to said window. And people wonder what Ian sees in me.
My trip home was much more successful. I was aware that I did not stand a chance against the might of sleep so I cleverly set my alarm to ring at 5.25pm, leaving me a full 5 minutes to arrange myself before arrival at Whitby. However, I had forgotten that I had set my alarm to nerve shattering loud so when the offensive little thing went off in my hand, I threw it from my fist in shock right onto the lap of the gentleman sitting opposite me.
My Go Train image is in tatters
Monday, July 16, 2007
It fell off the back of a lorry
Today I acquired "Chanel" sunglasses, (think wearing saucers over your eyes rather than actual glasses) for $13 from a Flea Market. They may or may not be lifted goods. To be honest I would not be surprised if they aren't "Chanel" and more "Channel". I have come across a number of items in the last week that have unknown origins. Take for example the brand name cosmetics I found at a store that suddenly appeared in the mall near work- 70% off without any explanation. Packaging was still intact, cosmetics didn't burn the skin off my face so what was wrong with them? I am on a misson.
Saw Parry Hotter last night. I nearly fell asleep. Nothing really happened. What's with this new broodier Parry? I understand the book is darker and choc full of activity but the movie failed to brew even the smallest hint of interest. Also, the fact that there was so much Coca Cola on the floor from the previous person meant that I had little to no grip on the floor and kept sliding off my seat. In a final act of desperation I used cinema literature to glue my shoes to the floor. That'll learn the cinema staff to keep their auditoriums clean- you try scraping up a combination of the world's sugariest (sp?) drink, paper, cinema tile and a fascinating blend of dirt.
We may be going to see We Will Rock You this coming weekend. And for all the smartasses out there, yes it will have the Best of Queen (minus Mr. Mercury..unless it's been a hoax all these years), raising the roof. I hope I can sing along. I love to sing. Ask Ian. I am never in tune, but imagine all the singing along I could do at a Queen themed musical. It would be neverending.
I was very disappointed not to find any fleas at the Flea Market. Although judging the state of some of the vendors I would imagine the arrival of said fleas to be rather imminent.
Today I acquired "Chanel" sunglasses, (think wearing saucers over your eyes rather than actual glasses) for $13 from a Flea Market. They may or may not be lifted goods. To be honest I would not be surprised if they aren't "Chanel" and more "Channel". I have come across a number of items in the last week that have unknown origins. Take for example the brand name cosmetics I found at a store that suddenly appeared in the mall near work- 70% off without any explanation. Packaging was still intact, cosmetics didn't burn the skin off my face so what was wrong with them? I am on a misson.
Saw Parry Hotter last night. I nearly fell asleep. Nothing really happened. What's with this new broodier Parry? I understand the book is darker and choc full of activity but the movie failed to brew even the smallest hint of interest. Also, the fact that there was so much Coca Cola on the floor from the previous person meant that I had little to no grip on the floor and kept sliding off my seat. In a final act of desperation I used cinema literature to glue my shoes to the floor. That'll learn the cinema staff to keep their auditoriums clean- you try scraping up a combination of the world's sugariest (sp?) drink, paper, cinema tile and a fascinating blend of dirt.
We may be going to see We Will Rock You this coming weekend. And for all the smartasses out there, yes it will have the Best of Queen (minus Mr. Mercury..unless it's been a hoax all these years), raising the roof. I hope I can sing along. I love to sing. Ask Ian. I am never in tune, but imagine all the singing along I could do at a Queen themed musical. It would be neverending.
I was very disappointed not to find any fleas at the Flea Market. Although judging the state of some of the vendors I would imagine the arrival of said fleas to be rather imminent.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Robots in Disguise
I went to see Transformers this week. People, ( by people I mean 30 year old men who played with Transformers when they were 6 and should know a lot better by now), started clapping and cheering when Optimus Prime appeared on screen and could barely contain their squeaks of joy whenever original Transformer power lines were uttered.
That said, it's not half bad.
I went to see Transformers this week. People, ( by people I mean 30 year old men who played with Transformers when they were 6 and should know a lot better by now), started clapping and cheering when Optimus Prime appeared on screen and could barely contain their squeaks of joy whenever original Transformer power lines were uttered.
That said, it's not half bad.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Toronto, boring?
Eventful day. I saw the burnt out remains of the SUV that tore into a large truck on the 401 Expressway causing all Eastbound lanes to be shut down for a number of hours. I narrowly missed chaos on the subway when someone fell onto the tracks causing the system to be shut down for half an hour. I watched a girl in front of me get mugged at my subway stop and stared in shock as the mugger ran off with her possessions.
Toronto. It's great!
Eventful day. I saw the burnt out remains of the SUV that tore into a large truck on the 401 Expressway causing all Eastbound lanes to be shut down for a number of hours. I narrowly missed chaos on the subway when someone fell onto the tracks causing the system to be shut down for half an hour. I watched a girl in front of me get mugged at my subway stop and stared in shock as the mugger ran off with her possessions.
Toronto. It's great!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
As heard on the GO Train this morning
A woman describing her first trip to Europe to a friend. Said woman visited London, Paris and Malaga. In a week.
"Well, having seen all of Europe, I have to say I think Paris is Europe's best city"
"Spain is really boring. There is nothing to do there"
"I didn't go to Madrid but I can tell you it is full of drugs and prostitutes. It's really dangerous, don't go there".
A woman describing her first trip to Europe to a friend. Said woman visited London, Paris and Malaga. In a week.
"Well, having seen all of Europe, I have to say I think Paris is Europe's best city"
"Spain is really boring. There is nothing to do there"
"I didn't go to Madrid but I can tell you it is full of drugs and prostitutes. It's really dangerous, don't go there".
Slow News Week
It's been a slow one. I could probably find something to write about, but to be honest each night after work the last thing I want to do is blog. I can't even email... although I do make time to stalk someone on Facebook. However I shall soldier on. Pat on the back what, what.
Canada Day came and went on Sunday. The high point of the day was getting a dose of high powered runs compliments of some dodgy sushi and watching a new episode of "Entourage". I know. Wild. On Saturday we got a beautiful Italian duvet reduced from $400 to $99..bargain. Apparently it is "discontinued". Not for me it ain't. I also stained our coffee table. It is now the hue of Early America. At least according to the tin it is. The clear coat hasn't gone on yet so lord knows what shade of America it will eventually resemble. However, I am pretty proud of my first attempt at home decorating.
Work is work. I am still at the learning stage, which is frustrating as I am keen to get my teeth into a project and get this career moving.
I have become a commuter rat joining in the daily ritual of pushing people out of my way and snorting at those that are incapable of breaking land speed records to catch the subway. I am horrible at 730 am in downtown Toronto. Should you wish to say Hi or hit me back with your briefcase I am the person dodging 'amblers' and snarling at those attempting to overtake me.
It's fun.
The highlight of last week was getting a belt tie for my work security card. It attaches to my belt and can be dragged a full 3 feet from its protective casing before popping back into place. To say it has brought me endless hours of entertainment would be an understatement.
It's been a slow one. I could probably find something to write about, but to be honest each night after work the last thing I want to do is blog. I can't even email... although I do make time to stalk someone on Facebook. However I shall soldier on. Pat on the back what, what.
Canada Day came and went on Sunday. The high point of the day was getting a dose of high powered runs compliments of some dodgy sushi and watching a new episode of "Entourage". I know. Wild. On Saturday we got a beautiful Italian duvet reduced from $400 to $99..bargain. Apparently it is "discontinued". Not for me it ain't. I also stained our coffee table. It is now the hue of Early America. At least according to the tin it is. The clear coat hasn't gone on yet so lord knows what shade of America it will eventually resemble. However, I am pretty proud of my first attempt at home decorating.
Work is work. I am still at the learning stage, which is frustrating as I am keen to get my teeth into a project and get this career moving.
I have become a commuter rat joining in the daily ritual of pushing people out of my way and snorting at those that are incapable of breaking land speed records to catch the subway. I am horrible at 730 am in downtown Toronto. Should you wish to say Hi or hit me back with your briefcase I am the person dodging 'amblers' and snarling at those attempting to overtake me.
It's fun.
The highlight of last week was getting a belt tie for my work security card. It attaches to my belt and can be dragged a full 3 feet from its protective casing before popping back into place. To say it has brought me endless hours of entertainment would be an understatement.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Early. Bird. Worm. Catch
There have been some questions relating to my sanity over the last few days, possibly prompted by the news that I am out of bed and fully functioning at 530 in the morning. I can assure you my actions are sane and with reason. I have chosen to start work as early as I possibly can so I can get home as early as I possibly can each evening. At the moment I am starting at 8am and finshing up around 4-430 getting me home for 6. Some of you may be aware of the jokes doing the rounds concerning Torontonians and how they complain about neverending commutes. People should not makes jokes. This is a serious and real matter! For those that choose not to live in the heart of Toronto and get their paycheck ripped from their hands each month to pay for adequate housing, the downside is commuting. Luckily Toronto and GTA folk set up a pretty swiffy commuter train that transports a few hundred thousand people a day and a subway system, which like all subway systems in the world, has more nut jobs than I have hairs on my head.
So in conclusion, my sanity is intact, I am getting up out of bed in time, I am really enjoying this job.
More to come on the job front at a later date.
As for brisket. I still have no idea what it is. I presume we have a piece of meat the exact same as brisket , only with a different name, in Europe. Think huge chunk of meat from the arse end of a cow. What is that called?
There have been some questions relating to my sanity over the last few days, possibly prompted by the news that I am out of bed and fully functioning at 530 in the morning. I can assure you my actions are sane and with reason. I have chosen to start work as early as I possibly can so I can get home as early as I possibly can each evening. At the moment I am starting at 8am and finshing up around 4-430 getting me home for 6. Some of you may be aware of the jokes doing the rounds concerning Torontonians and how they complain about neverending commutes. People should not makes jokes. This is a serious and real matter! For those that choose not to live in the heart of Toronto and get their paycheck ripped from their hands each month to pay for adequate housing, the downside is commuting. Luckily Toronto and GTA folk set up a pretty swiffy commuter train that transports a few hundred thousand people a day and a subway system, which like all subway systems in the world, has more nut jobs than I have hairs on my head.
So in conclusion, my sanity is intact, I am getting up out of bed in time, I am really enjoying this job.
More to come on the job front at a later date.
As for brisket. I still have no idea what it is. I presume we have a piece of meat the exact same as brisket , only with a different name, in Europe. Think huge chunk of meat from the arse end of a cow. What is that called?
Monday, June 25, 2007
Lazzzeeeeee
There will be a great, big, long, boring description of my first week at work, what I do, where I do it, how I do it, how it is treating me and how I am treating it. In the coming week. Getting up for work at 530am and getting home for 630pm has been a little bit of a shock to the system so I shall be a little more accustomed to my farmer like early morning rising shocker in the next few days.
This weekend was spent lying on my rear end moaning as I had contracted a little cold. No doubt due to all the air conditioning......... and work.
Today we went to MoSport to watch cars chase each other around a piece of cement. I brought a book. It would have been fun had there not been trees sapping on me. And bugs flying around. And bees.
Barbeque chez King tonight. I must go eat my body weight in salad, dip and brisket. No idea what brisket it. I shall report back on its status.
There will be a great, big, long, boring description of my first week at work, what I do, where I do it, how I do it, how it is treating me and how I am treating it. In the coming week. Getting up for work at 530am and getting home for 630pm has been a little bit of a shock to the system so I shall be a little more accustomed to my farmer like early morning rising shocker in the next few days.
This weekend was spent lying on my rear end moaning as I had contracted a little cold. No doubt due to all the air conditioning......... and work.
Today we went to MoSport to watch cars chase each other around a piece of cement. I brought a book. It would have been fun had there not been trees sapping on me. And bugs flying around. And bees.
Barbeque chez King tonight. I must go eat my body weight in salad, dip and brisket. No idea what brisket it. I shall report back on its status.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Hurrah!
I am ever so happy. Paul Potts won Britain's Got Talent. I am very pleased for this very unassuming little guy from Wales. Go the Welsh!
It was also a Hurrah! week for me as I finally set up a bank account here, got myself a swanky cell phone and managed to locate a few work clothes that should fit the "respectable" bill. Of course, locating said clothes was not as easy as expected as stores were lacking in my size. I can only presume that it is the popular size. I am convincing myself that is so.
I start work tomorrow. I shall be up and about at 530am. No doubt you can sense the excitement.
Must go back to watching the Much Music Awards, (think MTV Video Awards. In Toronto. Obviously.)
I am ever so happy. Paul Potts won Britain's Got Talent. I am very pleased for this very unassuming little guy from Wales. Go the Welsh!
It was also a Hurrah! week for me as I finally set up a bank account here, got myself a swanky cell phone and managed to locate a few work clothes that should fit the "respectable" bill. Of course, locating said clothes was not as easy as expected as stores were lacking in my size. I can only presume that it is the popular size. I am convincing myself that is so.
I start work tomorrow. I shall be up and about at 530am. No doubt you can sense the excitement.
Must go back to watching the Much Music Awards, (think MTV Video Awards. In Toronto. Obviously.)
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Score!
For something crude and rude, yet laugh out loud, may I recommend "Knocked Up"for your viewing pleasure. Hilarious movie, with the odd tender moment.
I think this one tops my 'Best of....Summer 2007' List. Although, it's not that great a feat when you consider the competition.
For something crude and rude, yet laugh out loud, may I recommend "Knocked Up"for your viewing pleasure. Hilarious movie, with the odd tender moment.
I think this one tops my 'Best of....Summer 2007' List. Although, it's not that great a feat when you consider the competition.
Sensational.
Every so often you hear something beautiful. This guy, a very humble unassuming individual had the power to make tears run down my face.
Beautiful.
Every so often you hear something beautiful. This guy, a very humble unassuming individual had the power to make tears run down my face.
Beautiful.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Head High!
Last night Ian and I went for a few drinks with some people from his college course. One guy had his girlfriend with him, both of whom were eager to hear about my experiences in Canada and comparisons with Ireland. The following discussion ensued,
Girl It must be great in bars with your accent!
Me Huh?
Girl Lots of guys must chat you up because of your Irish accent. A friend has arrived from England and everytime we are out with her, guys line up to talk with her and get her number
Me That has never happened to me
Girl Oh..............................
Well, I felt great last night.
Egoboostastic.
Last night Ian and I went for a few drinks with some people from his college course. One guy had his girlfriend with him, both of whom were eager to hear about my experiences in Canada and comparisons with Ireland. The following discussion ensued,
Girl It must be great in bars with your accent!
Me Huh?
Girl Lots of guys must chat you up because of your Irish accent. A friend has arrived from England and everytime we are out with her, guys line up to talk with her and get her number
Me That has never happened to me
Girl Oh..............................
Well, I felt great last night.
Egoboostastic.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Stanley Cup!
Over the last few nights I have been watching the ice-hockey playoffs for the Stanley Cup. And I have to say I have really enjoyed watching them. I have only ever glanced at games in the past so know little to nothing about the sport, other than it is very fast, very technical and demands high levels of skill from its players. So, No Hockey Knowledge Me was watching the games between the Ottawa Senators and the Anaheim Ducks and was intrigued by a Ducks player by the name of Niedermayer. His movement on the ice, his skill in the game and his ability to work his opponents drew my eye. I liked what I saw, and, in particular liked how effortlessly he game skated.
I was rather pleased with my observations when Niedermayer was voted MVP, (Most Valuable Player) and his team won the Stanley Cup. I could be a scout! YAH!
I must dig out the pictures of me and the cup, (or should that read, "the cup and I"?), for memories and what not. Another trip to the Hockey Hall of Fame is due.
P.S. The Stanley Cup is the equivalent of the UEFA/FA Cup in football and the Six Nations in rugby.
Over the last few nights I have been watching the ice-hockey playoffs for the Stanley Cup. And I have to say I have really enjoyed watching them. I have only ever glanced at games in the past so know little to nothing about the sport, other than it is very fast, very technical and demands high levels of skill from its players. So, No Hockey Knowledge Me was watching the games between the Ottawa Senators and the Anaheim Ducks and was intrigued by a Ducks player by the name of Niedermayer. His movement on the ice, his skill in the game and his ability to work his opponents drew my eye. I liked what I saw, and, in particular liked how effortlessly he game skated.
I was rather pleased with my observations when Niedermayer was voted MVP, (Most Valuable Player) and his team won the Stanley Cup. I could be a scout! YAH!
I must dig out the pictures of me and the cup, (or should that read, "the cup and I"?), for memories and what not. Another trip to the Hockey Hall of Fame is due.
P.S. The Stanley Cup is the equivalent of the UEFA/FA Cup in football and the Six Nations in rugby.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Monday, June 04, 2007
Sand
Forgot to mention the anal relationship Ian has with sand.
While walking on a sandy beach at the lake, Ian kept stopping every few paces to SHAKE THE SAND OUT OF HIS SANDALS. Does anyone else find this as hilarious as me?
He was quite the happy camper when he managed to walk from the beach to the cottage without getting any sand in his sandals. The fact that he looked like an arthritic 80 year old trying not to get sand in his sandals was too funny for words.
I imagine he will dump me after reading this post.
Forgot to mention the anal relationship Ian has with sand.
While walking on a sandy beach at the lake, Ian kept stopping every few paces to SHAKE THE SAND OUT OF HIS SANDALS. Does anyone else find this as hilarious as me?
He was quite the happy camper when he managed to walk from the beach to the cottage without getting any sand in his sandals. The fact that he looked like an arthritic 80 year old trying not to get sand in his sandals was too funny for words.
I imagine he will dump me after reading this post.
Lake Eerie
It would be so much easier to stick up a few photos and comment on them re: the weekend at Lake Eerie, but seeing as I forgot the camera, I no longer have the easy option. Mutter.
So, our weekend was fantastic. I really am getting old. Gone are the days where a weekend involving no sleep, bars, clubs and half the population of a city could entertain me. Now I want a comfortable chair, lights out at a decent hour and three square meals. I got just that for two whole days. Ian and I left chez nous on Friday afternoon with the car packed full of food and underwear. Seeing as I am new to the whole Canada experience, Ian and his parents discussed which expressway to take to the Lake. There are multiple options, the common one being the Road of Terror, aka the 401. However, seeing as it was a Friday afternoon, it was assumed that the 401 would be a nightmare and so it would be prudent to take the Toll 407. So off we went, 407 bound. Turns out we sat on a glorified parking lot for an hour. Traffic around Toronto at any point of any day is completely and utterly insane. So insane, that if there is a single little hiccup at any point on the expressway, all lanes suffer. Ian compares it to the Butterfly Effect. If someone brakes suddenly 20 miles ahead, the effect will vibrate its way back to the last car, increasing strength as it travels. In our case, there was a minor accident on the 407 involving a slight dent to one car from another. Both cars had pulled over to the side, freeing up traffic access, but because humans are nosy, everyone kept tapping their brakes to slow down for a look. The result was traffic slowed to almost a complete standstill adding an extra hour onto our journey. We moaned and complained but we still made sure we got a good gawk at the scene of the accident.
Once at the lake I regained my love of the countryside. Until all the bugs came at me. Seeing as it was dark when we arrived, we had no option other than to sit down and indulge in an Entourage marathon. I aspire to one day be as obnoxious as Ari Gold.
The following day I bossed Ian into making breakfast and afterwards we went for a walk on the beach. It was sunny and 32 degrees and Ian seemed convinced he was immune to skin cancer. He sat out in the sun for three hours and then ambled along the beach for another hour followed by another two hours just sitting on a chair in the sun. My pleas with him to put on some sun block were met with snorts of disgust. Was I not aware that his reddened arms would turn a golden brown? Did I not know that Ian isn't going to succumb to skin cancer?
As you can imagine I got in quite the snot with him. I understand that he naturally tans, but correct me if I am wrong here, but scorching your skin to turn brown makes zero medical sense whatsoever. I was pretty pissed with him for being so irresponsible, but of course, there was no talking to him. Instead I sat in the sun LATHERED in factor 45. I actually glowed with all the block I applied.... of course sand kept sticking to my lathered skin so I had quite the odd look going.
After breakfast we went for a walk on the beach. Never, ever, have I seen so many fish and bird skeletons as I saw on that beach. It was like being on Animal CSI. While ambling Ian found a bone in the sand. I can assure you that Grissom's job is quite safe as neither one of us could determine if it was human or not. We decided to lump it on Ian's Aunt's deck. Maybe she can determine what it is.
That night we continued our Entourage marathon. Aren't box set DVD's the best thing ever?
The next day was, unfortunately, grey, damp and not very sunworthy. Ian and I enjoyed breakfast, stuck our heads outside the door and pulled mine back in pretty quickly what with the dramatic increase in the mosquito population. Bleurgh. Seeing as there wasn't much point in sitting out in the rain, we started to clean the cottage and while doing so turned on the TV. On it was a show called "Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader?"The concept of this show is to have adults answer questions relating to school subjects for those in Grade 5 and under with the potential of winning $1,000,000. It sounds very simple, but not so for some of the parents... and if I am being truthful, even myself. Most of the questions are pretty simple, but some can leave you in quite the pickle. Take for example the contestant I saw yesterday. She was asked what country has the largest border with the United States. The woman said Mexico.
Has she ever seen a map of North America? Really? How ditzy do you have to be to get that one wrong. How do you not know about the second largest country in the world to the north of you?
Gah.
Anyhoo, after that Ian and I returned to Toronto. With Ian almost having a child seeing as traffic wan't going to the speed he would have selected. Once home, I scratched all my bug bites and made them worse than they were.
It would be so much easier to stick up a few photos and comment on them re: the weekend at Lake Eerie, but seeing as I forgot the camera, I no longer have the easy option. Mutter.
So, our weekend was fantastic. I really am getting old. Gone are the days where a weekend involving no sleep, bars, clubs and half the population of a city could entertain me. Now I want a comfortable chair, lights out at a decent hour and three square meals. I got just that for two whole days. Ian and I left chez nous on Friday afternoon with the car packed full of food and underwear. Seeing as I am new to the whole Canada experience, Ian and his parents discussed which expressway to take to the Lake. There are multiple options, the common one being the Road of Terror, aka the 401. However, seeing as it was a Friday afternoon, it was assumed that the 401 would be a nightmare and so it would be prudent to take the Toll 407. So off we went, 407 bound. Turns out we sat on a glorified parking lot for an hour. Traffic around Toronto at any point of any day is completely and utterly insane. So insane, that if there is a single little hiccup at any point on the expressway, all lanes suffer. Ian compares it to the Butterfly Effect. If someone brakes suddenly 20 miles ahead, the effect will vibrate its way back to the last car, increasing strength as it travels. In our case, there was a minor accident on the 407 involving a slight dent to one car from another. Both cars had pulled over to the side, freeing up traffic access, but because humans are nosy, everyone kept tapping their brakes to slow down for a look. The result was traffic slowed to almost a complete standstill adding an extra hour onto our journey. We moaned and complained but we still made sure we got a good gawk at the scene of the accident.
Once at the lake I regained my love of the countryside. Until all the bugs came at me. Seeing as it was dark when we arrived, we had no option other than to sit down and indulge in an Entourage marathon. I aspire to one day be as obnoxious as Ari Gold.
The following day I bossed Ian into making breakfast and afterwards we went for a walk on the beach. It was sunny and 32 degrees and Ian seemed convinced he was immune to skin cancer. He sat out in the sun for three hours and then ambled along the beach for another hour followed by another two hours just sitting on a chair in the sun. My pleas with him to put on some sun block were met with snorts of disgust. Was I not aware that his reddened arms would turn a golden brown? Did I not know that Ian isn't going to succumb to skin cancer?
As you can imagine I got in quite the snot with him. I understand that he naturally tans, but correct me if I am wrong here, but scorching your skin to turn brown makes zero medical sense whatsoever. I was pretty pissed with him for being so irresponsible, but of course, there was no talking to him. Instead I sat in the sun LATHERED in factor 45. I actually glowed with all the block I applied.... of course sand kept sticking to my lathered skin so I had quite the odd look going.
After breakfast we went for a walk on the beach. Never, ever, have I seen so many fish and bird skeletons as I saw on that beach. It was like being on Animal CSI. While ambling Ian found a bone in the sand. I can assure you that Grissom's job is quite safe as neither one of us could determine if it was human or not. We decided to lump it on Ian's Aunt's deck. Maybe she can determine what it is.
That night we continued our Entourage marathon. Aren't box set DVD's the best thing ever?
The next day was, unfortunately, grey, damp and not very sunworthy. Ian and I enjoyed breakfast, stuck our heads outside the door and pulled mine back in pretty quickly what with the dramatic increase in the mosquito population. Bleurgh. Seeing as there wasn't much point in sitting out in the rain, we started to clean the cottage and while doing so turned on the TV. On it was a show called "Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader?"The concept of this show is to have adults answer questions relating to school subjects for those in Grade 5 and under with the potential of winning $1,000,000. It sounds very simple, but not so for some of the parents... and if I am being truthful, even myself. Most of the questions are pretty simple, but some can leave you in quite the pickle. Take for example the contestant I saw yesterday. She was asked what country has the largest border with the United States. The woman said Mexico.
Has she ever seen a map of North America? Really? How ditzy do you have to be to get that one wrong. How do you not know about the second largest country in the world to the north of you?
Gah.
Anyhoo, after that Ian and I returned to Toronto. With Ian almost having a child seeing as traffic wan't going to the speed he would have selected. Once home, I scratched all my bug bites and made them worse than they were.
Lord in Himmel........
So, Ian and I went to Lake Eerie for the weekend. I shall talk more about that later on. I feel the most important thing to discuss right now is the blatant disregard the Ontario authorities have for the volume of human inbreeding in certain parts of the Trillium province. Allow me to explain. While driving to the lake Ian and I had a craving for Taco Bell. Yeah, I know. No need to lecture on the potential side effects. I know them all. But, the new cheese taco thing looked AMAZING on TV and we all know how easily swayed I am on certain things. I mean, hell, they look good on TV, so OBVIOUSLY they will be yummy in my tummy.
Ian and I stopped at a town enroute that had a Taco Bell. We were quite the ecstatic pair and almost blew up with excitement when we saw the Taco Bell sign. We pulled into the parking lot and merrily tottered in. I had to run to the bathroom first so let Ian join the queue. A toilet is a very good benchmark for any food establishment and this Taco Bell was sliding down the scale, (much like the edibles on offer). There was an inexplicable smell, one that nauseated and encouraged record breaking bladder evacuation and the fact that the toilet failed to flush, instead gurgling human excrement at me, had me in a quite the pickle. I quickly evacuated said bathroom and ran to the queue to find Ian lurking at the back of it with a rather dubious look on his face. A scan of the restaurant patrons revealed that all were from the same paternal line and that most, if not all, were suffering from some form of genetic trauma. There wasn't a functioning brain cell in the place. I am not exaggerating in any way. The genetic trouble did not stop at the patrons, it most certainly extended to the staff. Not willing to sacrifice our remaining intelligence out our digestive health, I am ashamed to say that we ran away from Taco Bell. In a fit of hysterical laughter.
The closest alternative was McDonalds. It was clean at least, but still demonstrated the need for sexual education and contraception in this particular blip on the population scale.
And don't get me started on parents that allow their children run riot in a public place. The sound of a three year old saying "Hello" over and over and over again like some moronic demon serves to augment the evidence of something not functioning all that well upstairs.
So, Ian and I went to Lake Eerie for the weekend. I shall talk more about that later on. I feel the most important thing to discuss right now is the blatant disregard the Ontario authorities have for the volume of human inbreeding in certain parts of the Trillium province. Allow me to explain. While driving to the lake Ian and I had a craving for Taco Bell. Yeah, I know. No need to lecture on the potential side effects. I know them all. But, the new cheese taco thing looked AMAZING on TV and we all know how easily swayed I am on certain things. I mean, hell, they look good on TV, so OBVIOUSLY they will be yummy in my tummy.
Ian and I stopped at a town enroute that had a Taco Bell. We were quite the ecstatic pair and almost blew up with excitement when we saw the Taco Bell sign. We pulled into the parking lot and merrily tottered in. I had to run to the bathroom first so let Ian join the queue. A toilet is a very good benchmark for any food establishment and this Taco Bell was sliding down the scale, (much like the edibles on offer). There was an inexplicable smell, one that nauseated and encouraged record breaking bladder evacuation and the fact that the toilet failed to flush, instead gurgling human excrement at me, had me in a quite the pickle. I quickly evacuated said bathroom and ran to the queue to find Ian lurking at the back of it with a rather dubious look on his face. A scan of the restaurant patrons revealed that all were from the same paternal line and that most, if not all, were suffering from some form of genetic trauma. There wasn't a functioning brain cell in the place. I am not exaggerating in any way. The genetic trouble did not stop at the patrons, it most certainly extended to the staff. Not willing to sacrifice our remaining intelligence out our digestive health, I am ashamed to say that we ran away from Taco Bell. In a fit of hysterical laughter.
The closest alternative was McDonalds. It was clean at least, but still demonstrated the need for sexual education and contraception in this particular blip on the population scale.
And don't get me started on parents that allow their children run riot in a public place. The sound of a three year old saying "Hello" over and over and over again like some moronic demon serves to augment the evidence of something not functioning all that well upstairs.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Corporate Me
So I discovered the new format offered by Blogger and decided to take advantage of it. I noticed the Adsense option, ( you allow ads to be placed on your blog and you get paid for doing nothing apart from sitting on your backside typing furiously on a keyboard) , and decided to install it.
Now I have an ad for Hurricane Katerina charitable relief.
I am going to need something a little more profitable if I plan on retiring at 35
Nergh.
So I discovered the new format offered by Blogger and decided to take advantage of it. I noticed the Adsense option, ( you allow ads to be placed on your blog and you get paid for doing nothing apart from sitting on your backside typing furiously on a keyboard) , and decided to install it.
Now I have an ad for Hurricane Katerina charitable relief.
I am going to need something a little more profitable if I plan on retiring at 35
Nergh.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Fish Watch
I think the Beta fish Ian has in a bowl is suicidal. The bowl is behind where I sit at the computer and all I have heard this morning have been little bursts of air bubbles from the demented fish. He sticks his little mouth above water, takes in a few gulps of air and then burps them out with all the charm of a newborn.
I hope he doesn't die on my watch.
I think the Beta fish Ian has in a bowl is suicidal. The bowl is behind where I sit at the computer and all I have heard this morning have been little bursts of air bubbles from the demented fish. He sticks his little mouth above water, takes in a few gulps of air and then burps them out with all the charm of a newborn.
I hope he doesn't die on my watch.
Summer Rubbish
Since the start of May I have seen the following movies-
Blades of Glory -perhaps if I was a hormonal 12 year old I might have laughed
Spiderman 3 -they went OTT with the black eyeliner and failed rockstar look
Shrek 3 -seems the scriptwriters have forgotten what "funny" means
Pirates of the Caribbean 3 -Oh my god. I cannot believe the script was allowed outside the studio
Not one of the above godforsaken attempts from the film industry comes close to defining entertainment. Don't bother wasting your money. Paint your wall and watch it dry instead. Perhaps cut your toe nails. Maybe even clean the hair from under your bed.
To add insult to injury we were charged an extra $2 to see the Pirates of the Caribbean as it was, apparently, in High Definition.
Spare me.
Since the start of May I have seen the following movies-
Blades of Glory -perhaps if I was a hormonal 12 year old I might have laughed
Spiderman 3 -they went OTT with the black eyeliner and failed rockstar look
Shrek 3 -seems the scriptwriters have forgotten what "funny" means
Pirates of the Caribbean 3 -Oh my god. I cannot believe the script was allowed outside the studio
Not one of the above godforsaken attempts from the film industry comes close to defining entertainment. Don't bother wasting your money. Paint your wall and watch it dry instead. Perhaps cut your toe nails. Maybe even clean the hair from under your bed.
To add insult to injury we were charged an extra $2 to see the Pirates of the Caribbean as it was, apparently, in High Definition.
Spare me.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Remember in "Pulp Fiction" the comparisons John Travolta drew with North America and Europe,... well not much the comparisons more the differences, via the medium of fast food? I have to agree with the Mad Scientologist. There aren't many huge or significant differences between Canada and Ireland, but there are little things can leave you in the quite the muddle.
Stores here in Canada stock more or less the exact same products as found in Ireland. However, Canadian marketing gurus have decided that packaging which sells perfectly well in Europe, OBVIOUSLY will never appeal to the Canadian consumer, so they have gone and changed it all. Or maybe they felt that Canadian packinging would never work in Europe. Neh. Either way, it had lead to me standing in stores, scratching my head wondering where the hell Herbal Essences has gone to and asking the store assistant, who now thinks I am an idiot, where everything is. For example. This is what Aussie Shampoo looks like in Ireland
And here is what it looks like in Canada.. well on this particular type.
See? I have to admit I am loving the purple packing. Makes it look less like a dollar store effort. Dear Lord I have sucummbed to the might of the marketing gurus!
I bought hair straightners today. Holy crap. They have ceramic plates coated in titanium. My hair feels like it could take on the might of one of those hair commercials where the models give themselves whiplash swinging their hair around.
L'oreal. Beacause I want a neck collar.
Stores here in Canada stock more or less the exact same products as found in Ireland. However, Canadian marketing gurus have decided that packaging which sells perfectly well in Europe, OBVIOUSLY will never appeal to the Canadian consumer, so they have gone and changed it all. Or maybe they felt that Canadian packinging would never work in Europe. Neh. Either way, it had lead to me standing in stores, scratching my head wondering where the hell Herbal Essences has gone to and asking the store assistant, who now thinks I am an idiot, where everything is. For example. This is what Aussie Shampoo looks like in Ireland
And here is what it looks like in Canada.. well on this particular type.
See? I have to admit I am loving the purple packing. Makes it look less like a dollar store effort. Dear Lord I have sucummbed to the might of the marketing gurus!
I bought hair straightners today. Holy crap. They have ceramic plates coated in titanium. My hair feels like it could take on the might of one of those hair commercials where the models give themselves whiplash swinging their hair around.
L'oreal. Beacause I want a neck collar.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
It’s Abooot Time.
So, getting here was relatively uneventful. Heathrow was Heathrow…. A mind-boggling sea of illogical thinking, Duty Free seems to have erased the “duty” and “free” aspects of the concept and communication barriers are loud and proud. . There was an unpleasant incident with my feta cheese tart- I couldn’t understand the waiter and he couldn’t understand me. I got my tart eventually but kept checking for an unsanitary or nasty little surprise.
I thoroughly recommend British Airways for all your aeronautical needs. A delightful airline complete with air stewards that fill you up with too much wine and compliment you on your perfume. Wonderful boys. However, Pearson airport wasn’t such a barrel of laughs. Immigration, as with all countries, is never a barrel of laughs. However, this was the first time that I was taken to one of those side rooms where you assume criminals are taken, not those on a valid work visa. I was asked to wait in an area with families from India and Pakistan among others. Fine you think, and find it would have been, had I not been left there without any information, without any guidance and without anyone even attempting to help me. Immigration Officers kept passing by ignoring my requests until finally a lovely female immigration officer approached me and asked, “Do you have a passport?”. The fact that I had just entered the country via an airplane was wasted. However, she instantly got into action and got me all visaed up.
Ian and I are getting on great, apart from his odd desire to see Spiderman 3. A film slated by critics. A film starring Tobey Maguire. Who should be slated with something solid. It is just me or is there something fiercely annoying about Mr. Maguire. However, in the name of international peace relations I have agreed to see it with Ian and two of his friends this week. The excitement just might kill me.
I shall write about my Orientation Day tomorrow as it is the finest definition of "ridiculous" I can think of.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
In a few hours I will be on my way to Heathrow and then to Toronto. A ridiculous flight path. If you don't understand, whip out a map and look at where Limerick, London and Toronto are. It's as if the pilot has started to fly in one directon, realises he has gone the wrong way and just slaps the plane into reverse hoping no one will notice.
I have noted that my posts of late have had all the characteristics of blog post starvation, ( a treatable disease once detected early), and hope to have a little time to spare once arrived in Canada to do a little update. Seeing as Ian is a working man and I am neither, I will dedicate Monday morning to blogging. Expect a rant about an airline, the people they employ, and the loss of my baggage.
It's going to be an exciting one.
I have noted that my posts of late have had all the characteristics of blog post starvation, ( a treatable disease once detected early), and hope to have a little time to spare once arrived in Canada to do a little update. Seeing as Ian is a working man and I am neither, I will dedicate Monday morning to blogging. Expect a rant about an airline, the people they employ, and the loss of my baggage.
It's going to be an exciting one.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Only two more days and I am finished work. To say I am "winding down" would be an understatement. I am moving around the office with all the speed of a slug taking a leisurely slide with the efficiency of a hanging sloth. Indeed, productive. Tomorrow, I will have a staff lunch with my team and some of the girls and, then, Friday sees my leaving do. I am prepping the camera for shame inducing pictorials. It shall not be given to anyone else unless they promise to take flattering pictures of me. A flawless plan!
Once all that is done, I will have to get around to doing some packing. An activity I LOATHE. So much so that I would not be shocked if I start binning things so I don't have to pack them and drag them to Limerick and then all the way to Canada! Aaahhh laziness.
Of course my actual arrival into Canada is under serious doubt at the moment. I have a visa...... somewhere in the world. I haven't recieved any paper stating that I have been approved for entry into Canada. If I don't get this piece of paper soon I have zero proof that I have a visa waiting for me in Canada, therefore prohibting me from gaining entry to Canadialand.
And can I get any response from the people who are supposed to be dealing with it? But of course not.
Once all that is done, I will have to get around to doing some packing. An activity I LOATHE. So much so that I would not be shocked if I start binning things so I don't have to pack them and drag them to Limerick and then all the way to Canada! Aaahhh laziness.
Of course my actual arrival into Canada is under serious doubt at the moment. I have a visa...... somewhere in the world. I haven't recieved any paper stating that I have been approved for entry into Canada. If I don't get this piece of paper soon I have zero proof that I have a visa waiting for me in Canada, therefore prohibting me from gaining entry to Canadialand.
And can I get any response from the people who are supposed to be dealing with it? But of course not.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Bleurgh
I ate so much chocolate today ( as well as Easter Sunday lunch and Easter Sunday dinner, followed by Easter Sunday drinks and Easter Sunday coffees), that I have been forced to pop a Motillium and some antacid pill to ease the churning, the pain and the will to end it all. I think I will have a little lie down and reflect on my blatant abuse of one of the Seven Deadly Sins- Gluttony.
Spent the day with my Gran. She is quite the funny little poppet- she has a very kind, innocent view of the world, only telling happy, positive stories about people, no matter how devious a conman they are. Recently, she got satellite TV installed and so has been enjoying the pleasures of multiple channels. She is coming to terms, albeit slowly, with the sudden appearance of two remote controls. One is for operating the TV itself with terrestrial channels and the other is to control satellite channels. Gran doesn't quite see it that way. She refers to the terrestrial remote as her "shortwave remote" and the satellite one as her "longwave remote". It is very sweet, yet also, oddly logical for a person that was raised with only radio as a form of entertainment. Keep it familiar is what I say.
We also took her on a tour of all the graves. Once you get to her age, it's good to keep in with the relatives who've passed on before you- you always need someone to save you a decent seat with the dude upstairs. She is the only lady who enjoys these little trps. There is a lot I could learn from her- from finding the silver lining in every single situation, whether good or bad to making people drink so much tea against their will that they want medical attention
I ate so much chocolate today ( as well as Easter Sunday lunch and Easter Sunday dinner, followed by Easter Sunday drinks and Easter Sunday coffees), that I have been forced to pop a Motillium and some antacid pill to ease the churning, the pain and the will to end it all. I think I will have a little lie down and reflect on my blatant abuse of one of the Seven Deadly Sins- Gluttony.
Spent the day with my Gran. She is quite the funny little poppet- she has a very kind, innocent view of the world, only telling happy, positive stories about people, no matter how devious a conman they are. Recently, she got satellite TV installed and so has been enjoying the pleasures of multiple channels. She is coming to terms, albeit slowly, with the sudden appearance of two remote controls. One is for operating the TV itself with terrestrial channels and the other is to control satellite channels. Gran doesn't quite see it that way. She refers to the terrestrial remote as her "shortwave remote" and the satellite one as her "longwave remote". It is very sweet, yet also, oddly logical for a person that was raised with only radio as a form of entertainment. Keep it familiar is what I say.
We also took her on a tour of all the graves. Once you get to her age, it's good to keep in with the relatives who've passed on before you- you always need someone to save you a decent seat with the dude upstairs. She is the only lady who enjoys these little trps. There is a lot I could learn from her- from finding the silver lining in every single situation, whether good or bad to making people drink so much tea against their will that they want medical attention
Large Female Ape Hands Sighted in Rural Area- Easter Shocker
Isn't that below image just plain terrifying... people MOISTURISE or your hands will end up like mine. I slapped another coffee jar worth of Dead Sea mud onto my hands in an attempt to remove fake tan from the palms of my hands, ( covered myself in fake tan and forgot to wash my hands.. looks like my hands are from Portugal and the rest of me from Siberia). Once, the mud dried, I captured the below picture. It highlights how wrinkled and worn my hands are. And that I am second cousin, twice removed to an ape.
It is worth noting, that my hand situation did improve somewhat once I had removed the mud. They don't have quite as terrifying an appearance as when encased in mud, instead presenting a slighty more human aspect that leaves one questioning ones potential ape blood lines.
Isn't that below image just plain terrifying... people MOISTURISE or your hands will end up like mine. I slapped another coffee jar worth of Dead Sea mud onto my hands in an attempt to remove fake tan from the palms of my hands, ( covered myself in fake tan and forgot to wash my hands.. looks like my hands are from Portugal and the rest of me from Siberia). Once, the mud dried, I captured the below picture. It highlights how wrinkled and worn my hands are. And that I am second cousin, twice removed to an ape.
It is worth noting, that my hand situation did improve somewhat once I had removed the mud. They don't have quite as terrifying an appearance as when encased in mud, instead presenting a slighty more human aspect that leaves one questioning ones potential ape blood lines.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Mud Mud Everywhere..............
My parents spent a few weeks in Jordan enjoying the Eastern sun, hypersaline sea and mineral sand. Seeing as they were at the Dead Sea for a number of days and had tired of endless floating, Indiana Jones sets and gorging on luxury buffets, they decided instead to pack as much of the black mineral mud into coffee jars as they could. Indeed a classy pair. It is reported that the mud aids in circulation, lessens the effects of extreme skin disorders and deposits essential minerals in the skin. How fabulous. I lathered my face with it this evening. I shall keep you updated on the results. I am sure you are on the edge of your seat, dying with anticipation. Below is the Kenco jar which looks like it has been filled with rather squishy turds. Underneath is me with mineral mud on face. I would consider myself to not be a squishy turd.
Update- my skin didn't like the mud. And before any of you smartasses point out you shouldn't put it on your face, may I point out that the Dead Sea Spa ladies ( they do exist), assured my mother that it is safe. However, in the hours since, my skin has turned red and is rather itchy. Plus the removal of all the toxins has caused a spot outbreak on my chin. Mutter.
My parents spent a few weeks in Jordan enjoying the Eastern sun, hypersaline sea and mineral sand. Seeing as they were at the Dead Sea for a number of days and had tired of endless floating, Indiana Jones sets and gorging on luxury buffets, they decided instead to pack as much of the black mineral mud into coffee jars as they could. Indeed a classy pair. It is reported that the mud aids in circulation, lessens the effects of extreme skin disorders and deposits essential minerals in the skin. How fabulous. I lathered my face with it this evening. I shall keep you updated on the results. I am sure you are on the edge of your seat, dying with anticipation. Below is the Kenco jar which looks like it has been filled with rather squishy turds. Underneath is me with mineral mud on face. I would consider myself to not be a squishy turd.
Update- my skin didn't like the mud. And before any of you smartasses point out you shouldn't put it on your face, may I point out that the Dead Sea Spa ladies ( they do exist), assured my mother that it is safe. However, in the hours since, my skin has turned red and is rather itchy. Plus the removal of all the toxins has caused a spot outbreak on my chin. Mutter.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Just A Spoonful of Sugar..
There are 8 teaspoons of sugar in a single 330ml can of Coca Cola sold in Ireland and Great Britain.
Not sure if Americans have it better. They don't have sugar, instead creating dental cavities with High Fructose Corn Syrup.
And people wonder why their teeth are rotting and falling out of their heads. Tsk Tsk
There are 8 teaspoons of sugar in a single 330ml can of Coca Cola sold in Ireland and Great Britain.
Not sure if Americans have it better. They don't have sugar, instead creating dental cavities with High Fructose Corn Syrup.
And people wonder why their teeth are rotting and falling out of their heads. Tsk Tsk
The Gee Gees
Even though I tutted tutted at all those crazy people placing ill advised bets on horses last week, Friday saw me cave in. I didn't have any tips or any hunches, instead I spent the morning reviewing the form for all horses in the Gold Cup and decided that seeing as the favourite was a guarannted winner, ( with silly short odds), there was no point in putting my €10 on him. Instead, i went for an each way bet on Exotic Dancer, (see above), sent the facilities guy to the bookies on his lunch break, huddled around the radio at 3.30 and nearly peed my pants when he came in second. I had wisely placed an each way bet, ensuring some return on my bet. While my winnings were small, nothing could wipe the Cheshire Cat like grin off my face. I am beginning to understand the addictive side to gambling
Even though I tutted tutted at all those crazy people placing ill advised bets on horses last week, Friday saw me cave in. I didn't have any tips or any hunches, instead I spent the morning reviewing the form for all horses in the Gold Cup and decided that seeing as the favourite was a guarannted winner, ( with silly short odds), there was no point in putting my €10 on him. Instead, i went for an each way bet on Exotic Dancer, (see above), sent the facilities guy to the bookies on his lunch break, huddled around the radio at 3.30 and nearly peed my pants when he came in second. I had wisely placed an each way bet, ensuring some return on my bet. While my winnings were small, nothing could wipe the Cheshire Cat like grin off my face. I am beginning to understand the addictive side to gambling
Thursday, March 15, 2007
I should NOT be allowed anywhere near a store anymore. Really. I went into town on my lunch break to mail a letter and like a moth to a flame was drawn into the Debenhams 25% sale. In I went, a woman on a misson and emerged 10 minutes later weighed down with half the cosmetic department and my wallet quite a little lighter. It was a shopping blitz, never seen before. I bought stuff I will NEVER use. Granted the shampoo and face wash will come in handy, but the sea salts and cherry bubble bath will take pride of place in the dungeons of my closet. Of course, once I started I couldn't stop and went into a clothing store where I just HAD to buy another pair of linen trousers. The fact that is is bitterly cold and pouring rain each and every day will not deter me in wearing them.
The Cheltenham festival is on this week. The week when people who have never seen a horse in their lives declare themselves racing experts. I have chosen not to indulge in the frenetic betting, but not so for some of the people I work with, if the screams of "Gwanyabloodynag" are anything to go by during race times. Lunch hour sees a mass exodus as they all take off to the local bookies to torment the teller with €1.00 bets from 15 people on the nag that just missed the slaughterhouse by a hoof, but may have a chance according the brother of the cousin of the sister of the neighbour of the girl at the next desk.
Only one more day until Casino Royale is available to buy. Daniel Craig goodness. Yum.
The Cheltenham festival is on this week. The week when people who have never seen a horse in their lives declare themselves racing experts. I have chosen not to indulge in the frenetic betting, but not so for some of the people I work with, if the screams of "Gwanyabloodynag" are anything to go by during race times. Lunch hour sees a mass exodus as they all take off to the local bookies to torment the teller with €1.00 bets from 15 people on the nag that just missed the slaughterhouse by a hoof, but may have a chance according the brother of the cousin of the sister of the neighbour of the girl at the next desk.
Only one more day until Casino Royale is available to buy. Daniel Craig goodness. Yum.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Irish Stew
I have noticed on a few blogs and websites, North Americans discussing the making of Irish stew for St.Patrick's Day. I just so happen to have the definitive Irish Stew recipe and am willing to share.
Ingredients-
Some choice alcohol with Irish bar setting
Lemon
Salt
Cheese and Onion Taytos
Poitin
Utensils -
Neverending supply of glasses ( plastic advisable towards the end of the stew)
Chair with back and arms
Stainless Steel Bowl
Bounty Tissue
Taxi
Money
Lighter
Trained medic
1. Take an average Irish bar, fill to capacity with eager drinkers.
2. Provide pint sized glasses for required numbers
3. To each glass pour one part whiskey to 5 parts Guinness
4. Mix, cool and consume
5. Vigorously shake drinker
6. Once the Guinness-whiskey mix has fermented add one shot of green vodka
7. Allow to settle
8. While drinker is settling prepare one shot of black zambuca with flame ( glass optional, drinkers open mouth preferred)
9. Pour shot into open mouth, ignite, heat and swallow. Cheers encouraged.
10. Allow drinker to cool.
11. An optional spicy addition for the caliente lovers is one shot of finest Mexican tequilla.
12. Prepare drinkers arm with highest quality salt, pour shot of tequilla (worm suggested for added nutrients) and finish with a lemon garnish
13. It is suggested at this point to provide a stainless steel bowl for bodily evacuations. Toilet trips forbidden due to potential loss of valuable seat in busy stew.
14. While drinker is simmering, open a packet of finest Irish Taytos, place on a bed of Bounty, garnish with salt and serve
15. Take drinker off the boil and place on chair with back and arms. Cool.
16. Open a large bottle of poitin. Decant
17. Serve repeated shots of said drink until drinker begs for mercy.
18. Repeat steps 3-17 for as long as desired.
19. A side of Taxi optional
20. Trained medic necessary
Result
A delightful blend of alcohol soaked people with a hint of unwanted aromas and a bitter aftertaste.
Traditional Irish Stew is an accquired taste and does come with some unwanted side effects, but nothing a helping of Paracetamol, a bottle of Lucozade and a lie in can't cure
I have noticed on a few blogs and websites, North Americans discussing the making of Irish stew for St.Patrick's Day. I just so happen to have the definitive Irish Stew recipe and am willing to share.
Ingredients-
Some choice alcohol with Irish bar setting
Lemon
Salt
Cheese and Onion Taytos
Poitin
Utensils -
Neverending supply of glasses ( plastic advisable towards the end of the stew)
Chair with back and arms
Stainless Steel Bowl
Bounty Tissue
Taxi
Money
Lighter
Trained medic
1. Take an average Irish bar, fill to capacity with eager drinkers.
2. Provide pint sized glasses for required numbers
3. To each glass pour one part whiskey to 5 parts Guinness
4. Mix, cool and consume
5. Vigorously shake drinker
6. Once the Guinness-whiskey mix has fermented add one shot of green vodka
7. Allow to settle
8. While drinker is settling prepare one shot of black zambuca with flame ( glass optional, drinkers open mouth preferred)
9. Pour shot into open mouth, ignite, heat and swallow. Cheers encouraged.
10. Allow drinker to cool.
11. An optional spicy addition for the caliente lovers is one shot of finest Mexican tequilla.
12. Prepare drinkers arm with highest quality salt, pour shot of tequilla (worm suggested for added nutrients) and finish with a lemon garnish
13. It is suggested at this point to provide a stainless steel bowl for bodily evacuations. Toilet trips forbidden due to potential loss of valuable seat in busy stew.
14. While drinker is simmering, open a packet of finest Irish Taytos, place on a bed of Bounty, garnish with salt and serve
15. Take drinker off the boil and place on chair with back and arms. Cool.
16. Open a large bottle of poitin. Decant
17. Serve repeated shots of said drink until drinker begs for mercy.
18. Repeat steps 3-17 for as long as desired.
19. A side of Taxi optional
20. Trained medic necessary
Result
A delightful blend of alcohol soaked people with a hint of unwanted aromas and a bitter aftertaste.
Traditional Irish Stew is an accquired taste and does come with some unwanted side effects, but nothing a helping of Paracetamol, a bottle of Lucozade and a lie in can't cure
Monday, March 05, 2007
Want to buy some Irish Air?
I have to admire the entreprenurial skills of the Irish people. I am so jumping on the bandwagon. I have an endless supply of old jars and glasses. They are in need of filling. I'm off to the West of Ireland. Might not be back for days. But be sure I will come back a wealthy lady.... that or covered in seaweed... or found headfirst in a pool of cockles.
I have to admire the entreprenurial skills of the Irish people. I am so jumping on the bandwagon. I have an endless supply of old jars and glasses. They are in need of filling. I'm off to the West of Ireland. Might not be back for days. But be sure I will come back a wealthy lady.... that or covered in seaweed... or found headfirst in a pool of cockles.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
I did NOT put that ridiculous header above, but there doesn't appear to be a way to alter it. The above pictures are some of my pictures from Asia. I do have pictures of other places but I haven't been able to locate the wire to load up pictures from the camera. Typical. Browsing through the my spaces and the bebos of complete strangers has its benefits as I managed to get a link to the site that makes my pictures do the collage effect. Whoo hoo!
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
So Sudan Red (yup, the cancer causing dye) has been found in some Asian chili powders. Food for thought for those of those that gorged on denjon jigae. And if ingesting Sudan Red isn't enough for South Koreans to handle, they are now being faced with an increasing suicide rate. It is being blamed on the widening divide between rich and poor. Correct me if I am wrong, but surely it is all to do with their emotionally opressive, indivdualism hating, forced family orientated society. Bah.
On the bus home I came up with a make cash slow scheme. Think about this, people from the age of 14-35 listen to their ipods frequently at alarmingly loud volumes. Therefore, by the time they are 65 (ish), they will have hideous aural abilities and will be in dire need of hearing aids. Anyone who owns or invests in hearing aid companies will be sitting on gold mines and wiping their bottoms with $100 bills. Of course it will only take a mere 30 years to accumulate even one bill to wipe your backside with.
On the bus home I came up with a make cash slow scheme. Think about this, people from the age of 14-35 listen to their ipods frequently at alarmingly loud volumes. Therefore, by the time they are 65 (ish), they will have hideous aural abilities and will be in dire need of hearing aids. Anyone who owns or invests in hearing aid companies will be sitting on gold mines and wiping their bottoms with $100 bills. Of course it will only take a mere 30 years to accumulate even one bill to wipe your backside with.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
You know when a cartoon character stubs their toe, it turns scarlet red, starts to pulse like a beating heart and turns into the size of a beach ball? I am currently sporting an imjury eeriely similar to that. I am the Foghorn Leghorn of the human world. I stubbed my third toe against the lap top that was lying on the floor on Friday night. It hurt like all hell. I had to do my best not to cry. It is now a palette of colours...none that blend all that well. Lots of black, with blues and reds, and a hint of yellow.
I am going for sympathy gold on this one.
I am going for sympathy gold on this one.
On Friday evening I decided to treat myself to a nice bottle of red wine. Seeing as I am a member of the rat race, I tend not to question the price, more the quality of the wine and grape. However, I was brought kicking and screaming back to my church mouse university days when I overheard a trio of young college girls discussing the merits of the bottles of wine they were clutching. Each bottle they were holding had a value of about €6.00 so it was safe to say that if they bored of knocking back wine, they could use the remaining "alcohol" to remove paint from their bedroom walls. Instead they were animatedly comparing the alcohol percentages of each wine. They were torn between the 11.5% and they 12% bottles as the 12% was an extra €2. But, the brains of tomorrow cleverly deduced that if they spent a little more on the 12% bottle they would be more intoxicated therefore they would spend less on alcohol once they got into town later thatnight. You have to love the economics of an inpoverished mind.
Friday, February 09, 2007
My life has been so boring this last week
Sleep in
Get up
Shower ( only because society dicates so)
Take pills
Mope
Waste half my life on the internet
Take pills
Ingest baby food
watch crap on tv
Take pills
Ogle Ian on web cam
Stay up too late
Watch Ugly Betty reruns
Take pills
Go to bed
However, i did fit in a little shopping between taking my pills and ogling Ian.I bought clothes that have resulted in me spending the last day justifiying their purchase. I might as well look good justifying......
Sleep in
Get up
Shower ( only because society dicates so)
Take pills
Mope
Waste half my life on the internet
Take pills
Ingest baby food
watch crap on tv
Take pills
Ogle Ian on web cam
Stay up too late
Watch Ugly Betty reruns
Take pills
Go to bed
However, i did fit in a little shopping between taking my pills and ogling Ian.I bought clothes that have resulted in me spending the last day justifiying their purchase. I might as well look good justifying......
Friday, February 02, 2007
I had my wisdom teeth removed today. All four. I have zero swelling, bruising or pain. How strange. I'm sitting up, talking and taking in soft foods. Apparently once I came out of my anaesthetic I was full of the joys of life and had a great chat with the nurses. I was left in recovery for ages where I nearly went insane from boredom. I can only presume that the anaesthetic, painkillers and suppository combined completely numbed any potential pain. I am incapable of staying in bed during the day, so had a rather difficult time sitting in my recovery bed from 9am to 5 pm. Mind you, if I could, I would have an anaesthetic every 6 months. After anaesthetic, I feel so refreshed and relaxed. Perhaps I feel that way, as I go into the operating room all geared up for a long deep deep sleep. Nothing like it. However all the other people in recovery asked for injections to ease nausea and vomiting following their anaesthetic. Not power girl! Made of steel, me.
Today I went into the clinic wearing a hoodie, cargo pants, trainers, with no make up, spots all over my face and my ipod glued to my ears. I filled out my vitals on the medical report, handed it back only to have the nurse come back to tell me that I had made an error on my form. She didn't believe that I was 26. She thought I was about 17. How fabulous I thought, until I realised she probably thought I was still in my teens what with my spot ridden face and ipod blasting the latest from yer man Mika.
Today I went into the clinic wearing a hoodie, cargo pants, trainers, with no make up, spots all over my face and my ipod glued to my ears. I filled out my vitals on the medical report, handed it back only to have the nurse come back to tell me that I had made an error on my form. She didn't believe that I was 26. She thought I was about 17. How fabulous I thought, until I realised she probably thought I was still in my teens what with my spot ridden face and ipod blasting the latest from yer man Mika.
Friday, January 26, 2007
I am so depressed. I decided to take a look around some of the stores after work- try on a few things, see how the new clothing offerings work out on me. They don't. It appears one must be verging on an eating disorder to fit into half of what is on hangers. I refuse to give up food. I have far too important a relationship with it. Instead I shall craft something from a reusable shopping bag. I have oodles of them. Maybe I could even join the local knitting circle. I could enjoy tea with the old dears, get the low down on the best dentures out there, discuss who is the best looking in the local 70-80 year old male range, get my Sunday best out for Sunday service. The possibilites are endless. Mind you, I did buy a skirt in the Winter sales last weekend. A velvet wine number with green flower things embroidered on panels. It sounds rather disgusting, but it is quite the opposite. In fact it is a little ridiculous. I have no idea when or where I would even wear it. Perhaps that is why it was 70% off.......... they saw me coming.
Monday, January 15, 2007
I noticed today that I haven't written very often in recent weeks. I have been a mixture of lazy and busy..... contradictions in themselves. Ian came to Ireland a few days after Christmas and stayed here for two weeks. We had a wonderful time, even if I nearly nagged him to an early grave. The company that I was temping with before Christmas have signed me to their name - a very positive move.
I would like to type some more but I when I return home in the evening, the last thing I want to do is sit down in front of another computer and type some more... mind you though I can now do that crazy typing - staring wide eyed at the screen , never glancing at the keys, tapping like a maniac while managing to type sentences word perfect. In the words of a Korean child, "Aaaazzaaaah".
I am also getting very lazy. My job requires that I sit for 6 hours a day. It is getting to the point where I complain about having to get off my chair to pick up a file. I know. I have also made a little foot rest from file boxes and have my chair angled perfectly to compliment said rest...... I am one doughnut away from Chief Wiggum status.
I would like to type some more but I when I return home in the evening, the last thing I want to do is sit down in front of another computer and type some more... mind you though I can now do that crazy typing - staring wide eyed at the screen , never glancing at the keys, tapping like a maniac while managing to type sentences word perfect. In the words of a Korean child, "Aaaazzaaaah".
I am also getting very lazy. My job requires that I sit for 6 hours a day. It is getting to the point where I complain about having to get off my chair to pick up a file. I know. I have also made a little foot rest from file boxes and have my chair angled perfectly to compliment said rest...... I am one doughnut away from Chief Wiggum status.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Last night at the video store there were two boys aged about 12 and 14 looking at dvd's. One picked up some martial art movie and asked his friend if he would like to watch it. The young lad, looked at the dvd, turned it over and announced that under no cirumstance were they going to rent it if he had to read anything. I tutted at the youth of today and their inability to accept a little change in their movie viewing until I reflected back on my time in Korea. Whenever suggestions were made regarding the renting of Korea, Chinese or Japanese movies, I would whine and moan because I would have to waste my eyesight on subtitles.
I have the mentality of a child.
I have the mentality of a child.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Depsite being rather sceptical about a Blonde Bond, Wednesday night at the movies put paid to such thoughts. I loved Casino Royale. It has the usual gadgets, ( the worlds tiniest defibrillator), action scenes, chase scenes, ridiculous victories on Bond's part and the essential Bond girls. But, unlike previous renditions of the franchise, this 007 had a human dimension to him. He cried, he nearly died, he sweated, he bled and made countless mistakes. He wasn't robotic in his methods, preferring to show a vulnerable side while still giving an heroic aspect to the character.
The fact that Daniel Craig is as hot as a pancake and built like a brick outhouse does sway my opinion ever so slightly.
Monday, November 13, 2006
I have made a very depressing discovery. Elmo toys are a one off. Apparently, each year, the Elmo factory churns out the latest talking, dancing, laughing Elmo, example being Tickle Me Elmo from a few years ago. The Elmo factory people may never make Tickle Me Elmo again. Ever. So, right now every E-Bay seller is being kept awake each night dreaming about what they will do with the fortune they rake in from selling Tickle Me Elmo for outlandish sums to fools like me.
In the below clip, you can see the resident hound figures the hysterical Elmo is another reason to dig up the back garden. My cat (RIP), was not such a big fan of my Elmo. Ian bought me the Hawaiian one, which does the limbo, rolls around and sings a rather fetching little tune. Whenever I let Elmo do this 'thang', the cat would recoil in horror, attempt to kill him and when he showed no signs of going to the Pearly Gates, she would sit in disgust, turn her back to him and hiss.
Aaah yes, Elmo, a treat for all the family.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Borat!
This evening I went to see Borat with some friends and what a cinematic experience it proved to be. I had tried to avoid reading reviews prior to viewing, but curiosity killed me. I caved in and indulged in perusing the Times and was shocked that one of the primary, notoriously fickle critics, Cosmo Landesman, granted it an unheard of five stars. I was intrigued that it had received such rave reviews, considering that Borat himself has always been a rather controversial character, and so was keen to see what all the 'kerfuffle' was about.
To cut short what could be a really long personal opinion, all I have to say is, it must be seen. It is hilarious, offensive, shocking, eye opening , jaw dropping and everything that one would expect from a Sacha Baron Cohen creation. It is no holds barred. It is vulgar. It is horrifying, but above all, it is an entertaining, well made piece of cinema.
However if you are offended by those that mock or insult, Kazakhstan, homosexuality, Jews, gypsies, Americans, feminists, Evangelicals, politicans, black people, white people, fat people, right wing individuals, terrorism, Hitler, or Pamela Anderson, you might want to opt for something Disney made.
This evening I went to see Borat with some friends and what a cinematic experience it proved to be. I had tried to avoid reading reviews prior to viewing, but curiosity killed me. I caved in and indulged in perusing the Times and was shocked that one of the primary, notoriously fickle critics, Cosmo Landesman, granted it an unheard of five stars. I was intrigued that it had received such rave reviews, considering that Borat himself has always been a rather controversial character, and so was keen to see what all the 'kerfuffle' was about.To cut short what could be a really long personal opinion, all I have to say is, it must be seen. It is hilarious, offensive, shocking, eye opening , jaw dropping and everything that one would expect from a Sacha Baron Cohen creation. It is no holds barred. It is vulgar. It is horrifying, but above all, it is an entertaining, well made piece of cinema.
However if you are offended by those that mock or insult, Kazakhstan, homosexuality, Jews, gypsies, Americans, feminists, Evangelicals, politicans, black people, white people, fat people, right wing individuals, terrorism, Hitler, or Pamela Anderson, you might want to opt for something Disney made.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
My brother doesn't seem to realise that we have to pay for gas and electricity in the real world. I have lost track of all the times that I have come home to find all the lights on, gas on , windows open and all sorts of media appliances running at the same time. This evening is a fine example. I returned from work to find the lights on in every single room, even though he was lying on the couch in the living room, the heating on, with all doors and windows open, the shower on to build up steam to decrease his shirt, and the iron on even though it wasn't being used ( seeing as the waste of water and gas was already taking care of his shirt).
Mutter
Mutter
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
I've decided I want a pet. A real pet. None of that robotic stuff for me. However, seeing as I am not home enough and rather lethargic about cleaning up their 'mess', I may have some obstacles to overcome.
Dog- might as well get a child instead considering all the minding they require, what with extended walks, mountain sized bags of feed, poop walks, playtime, attention time, hug time, pat time, fetch time, bath time so on so forth
Cat- good to leave on their own, but bad when one returns from a day of work and is greeted with toilet roll shredded confetti style on the bathroom floor. One is forced to reconsider ones
thoughts. Also, cat litter stinks.
Budgie- the constant tweeting would drive me to feed it to the above cat
Turtle - would freeze to death here. Damned if I am buying all the fancy schmanzy equipment
to keep the thing alive. Enough of a struggle to keep myself warm.
Fish - Ian has fish. I forgot to feed them on many an occasion, or, to compensate, over fed
them, ( fussy little critters) and moaned when we had to clean the bowl. Plus they aren't any
fun. The dont do tricks, apart from the 'belly up' one.
Reptile things - vomit
Pony- always wanted one, but I think the Building Management ladies might have a negative comment or two about a little Sheltand 'mowing' the patch of grass some developer had the nerve to call a garden.
Hamsters- They die at an early age..........perhaps the constant running on a wheel is akin to the human stress test. Weeds out the weaklings. Mind you, I couldnt deal with the weekly grief.
The real thing does not appear to be a viable option.
However, this is!
It's genius. It even hisses if its tail is pulled. What a wonderful lesson to teach young and impressionable children
Dog- might as well get a child instead considering all the minding they require, what with extended walks, mountain sized bags of feed, poop walks, playtime, attention time, hug time, pat time, fetch time, bath time so on so forth
Cat- good to leave on their own, but bad when one returns from a day of work and is greeted with toilet roll shredded confetti style on the bathroom floor. One is forced to reconsider ones
thoughts. Also, cat litter stinks.
Budgie- the constant tweeting would drive me to feed it to the above cat
Turtle - would freeze to death here. Damned if I am buying all the fancy schmanzy equipment
to keep the thing alive. Enough of a struggle to keep myself warm.
Fish - Ian has fish. I forgot to feed them on many an occasion, or, to compensate, over fed
them, ( fussy little critters) and moaned when we had to clean the bowl. Plus they aren't any
fun. The dont do tricks, apart from the 'belly up' one.
Reptile things - vomit
Pony- always wanted one, but I think the Building Management ladies might have a negative comment or two about a little Sheltand 'mowing' the patch of grass some developer had the nerve to call a garden.
Hamsters- They die at an early age..........perhaps the constant running on a wheel is akin to the human stress test. Weeds out the weaklings. Mind you, I couldnt deal with the weekly grief.
The real thing does not appear to be a viable option.
However, this is!
It's genius. It even hisses if its tail is pulled. What a wonderful lesson to teach young and impressionable children
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