Tuesday, July 31, 2007


Like A Phoenix, Arising From The Asses

Or something.

We're on the way back up. A few things have been clarified for me (no, I'm not sharing) and I also have the interwebs thing back, which makes life a little easier.

Store update this weekend, I hope.

And in the meantime ...

Your Life Path Number is 22

Your purpose in life is to use your power for good

Of all the life paths, yours has the most innate power.
Your power lies in your vision, and you must recruit others to help you in this vision.
You are able to be a great idealist, but you still have the practicality to get things done.

In love, you tend to be a big romantic - but you also tend to keep your distance.

You have a lot of potential, and it's sometimes hard to live up to.
Sometimes you just feel like slipping into obscurity and doing nothing.
You tend to be prone to dramatic emotions, until you step back and look at things honestly.
What Is Your Life Path Number?

Many thanks to Farm Witch for yet another amusing time-waster.

Sunday, July 29, 2007


Knitting My Life Back Together

I'm still here, still knitting. Not quite as broken as I was. Not quite as together as I'd like to be. Thanks for the notes of encouragement, and for sticking around while I work out what I'm going to do when I grow up. And, you know, how to avoid drinking bleach.

I got some yardwork done (appropriate "before" pictures were taken) and have completed another something like six knitted items (only four of which were washcloths, I'll have you know!)

Working 12-hour shifts this weekend (8pm to 8am) and then really you don't want to know what the rest of the week looks like. I snuck an extra half a shift in between two regular shifts somewhere in the middle of the week and that, plus the two 12-hour shifts this weekend will be enough, I think, to both get us the interwebs back plus get a beater of a car. I'm going to be a hag this entire week, but it'll be worth it, even though I found a way to get home on Saturday morning in only an hour anna half. (I also found a way to get home on a Saturday morning in only half an hour, but that one involves a change of job. Patience, grasshopper).

I'm only working one 8-hour shift this coming weekend (which could quickly morph into two 8-12 hour shifts if things go bliggety, which they so often do). If I get away with only the one shift, I shall post some pictures of things I've been dyeing to show you.

Otherwise we shall maintain the status quo of all whining, all the time.

I had an exciting time last night at work though! No, I can't blog about the stuff that happens here 'cause it would be disrespectful to the patients (and also illegal and could get me fired and stuff) however I can blog about the excitement of watching my Bunni go for the gold -- and make it. I left her pretty much face-down in a bowl of oatmeal after her 24-hour marathon, but she managed to raise over a thousand dollars for her charity, which is something to be proud of. There's still time to sponsor her for the next day or so if you're so inclined.

Oh, and if anyone's still looking for Jimmy Hoffa? He was hidden in my lawn the entire time. You'll understand how it could have taken this long to find him once I post the pictures.

Thursday, July 26, 2007


Washcloths In, Brains Out

Washcloths are starting to arrive (six so far!) this is way cool.

In a completely unrelated event, my brains have fallen right out of my head and I'm hardly even able to form a coherent sentence. For instance it's taken me about 5 minutes to write this and I keep typing "hoherent" sentence. Not that I'm a ho or anything.

I think I'm sort of overwhelmed by life and have to go hide in a cave for a bit.

As I said to my husband, "I'm sorry. I can't do that any more. I'm broken." There's a pretty long list of things I can't do right now and blogging may be one of them for a few days.

(that being said, you know I'm going to start on an epic three-month run of daily novel-length posts, starting tomorrow morning, right?)

Anyhow, if I'm not around for a few days, that's why; I'm broken.

If I'm not back in a week, send someone around to haul me away in a laundry basket or something, will you?

Tuesday, July 24, 2007


Oh Hai! I Has No Interwebs 4 U

Yeah, no interwebs at the house for a couple-three weeks.

I can, however, stealthblog from work, and I'm working every night until um, August 4 or something.

There will likely be neither photos nor store updates, but I'm quite certain there will be rants.

note to unwashed man on bus today: Wash. TIA.

Oh yeah, and I'm knitting. A wonderful reader traded me a camera for some yarnz and I'm trying to figure out the close-up dealie. Once I have that figured out perhaps I shall stealth-upload some pix from the parents' house and show you my thrice-knitted reversible cable scarf. It's nice. Finally. We will not discuss Row Nine. Ever.

Carry on.

edited to add: yes, you can still contact me via email, but it may take longer to get back to you.

Monday, July 23, 2007


My Isadorgia

Is it only me who wondered what kind of fucked-up name Isadorgia was when Frankie Valli sang that song?

It took me months to figure out that he was singing "My Eyes Adored You".

In my defense, I had a great-aunt Isabella whose name was pronounced EYEsahbella, not IZZahbella, but really.

That's worse than the time I thought that Sheryl Crow was singing "Put On A Pawn Show" when she was actually saying "poncho". The only argument in my favour is that people shouldn't sing about ponchos. It's just wrong.

Sometimes I think I need to get my head checked. Clearly my ears are beyond help.

Speaking of which, have you visited here lately? Days of fun with misheard lyrics. It always gives me a gigglesnort.


Holy Crap

Lookie here.

Sunday, July 22, 2007


Tarot Reading

Stolen from John, with thanks.

You Are Strength

You represent both fiery energy and steadfast will.
You are innocent and naive - yet unafraid and undaunted.
Perhaps you don't have the most powerful physical strength...
But your mental powers make up for any amount of muscle.

Your fortune:

Lately, you have been a pillar of ethics and moral strength.
And while things may be difficult, your faith in yourself will come through.
You may need to conquer the animalistic nature of yourself or others, with gentle force.
Although this may seem like the darkest hour for you, victory is near.
What Tarot Card Are You?

And, you know, seeing this is based on such in-depth research as my name (my blog name, even) and nothing else, y'all know it's true.

Or not.

Saturday, July 21, 2007


A Good Time Was Had By All

Well, I found the black bra, the slutty little green tank top, some jeans that were so old that they almost weren't there (but soft!) and off I went.

I wore mascara, too, but I think most of it was gone by the time I took bus #3. Or perhaps Long Walk #3 in the rain.

I'm horribly non-photogenic and I can guarantee that I was way hotter than the photos indicate, however there are a few over on Mrs. Q's blog. The second one makes me look like the Michelin man. I have no idea why it looks like you can see my belly button (on the second or third belly there). I had my pants zipped up, honest. I can only assume it was Some Mysterious Stain (tm).

You know it's never a complete evening without obtaining Some Mysterious Stain. The fact that I got dressed out of the bottom of the laundry pile might have something to do with the condition of my clothing also.

The band was fantastic (that is really what I think*) and the beer was very good. They didn't have the kind I usually drink but Whistler Pale Ale is pretty nice.

And now I'm off for #1 in a series of something like 21 nights of work in a row. (note to bitchy co-worker here: if the person relieving you phones up to find out how hot it is in our usually-overheated office, before you are snippy with her and refuse to answer in any informative manner, merely repeating "well there ARE fans here", you may consider the fact that she was planning on being about 45 minutes early for her shift; however, she has now rearranged her evening so that you will be leaving at about 11:58 rather than the 11:15 that you could have bought yourself with about 20% less attitude. Even though the later bus will enable her to relieve you at about 11:45, please note that she will, in fact, make a point of wasting ten minutes standing about outside the office rather than coming in and relieving you. She may even stand in view of the security cameras so that you know she's doing it on purpose).

*random rock 'n' roll reference of the week

edited to add: co-worker didn't know it was me, thought it was another Janice and apologized. She still only got out 8 minutes early, I'm not that nice, apparently

Friday, July 20, 2007



I'm actually going OUT.

I have no clothes. I slept all day and didn't buy new jeans. The only jeans that fit me are ripped in a way that renders them unwearable.

I am wearing underwear. That's it. And my hair is washed.

If I wear a dress (which I do have actually) then I have to wear makeup (which I also have) and that's just so not me right now I don't think I can do it.

This is dumb.

I want some cowboy boots.

I'm not good at going out. And even worse than the clothes, I have to find something to knit. Washcloth or scarf? I may finish up the Harlot's fake-rib scarf that I'm making for a friend.

Or a washcloth.

Is it weird to take two knitting projects out to the bar with you? Yes. But I might do it anyhow.

It's also Matt's birthday and we love him. Happy birthday sweetie -- you get the boobie prize this year. Heh. I slay me.

OK, now to hopefully find my little slutty green tank top ...

Wednesday, July 18, 2007


Time Off for Bad Behaviour

Well. It seems that somehow I've managed to wangle a night off work on Friday and -- now that the restraining order has been lifted -- will be going out to knit in public with some friends (there will be others there but I don't know who all is coming), listen to some music (there are two other bands also too!) and drink some beer.

I may even buy new jeans for the occasion. Or maybe I should wear a dress and get all girly (insert a scream of "hell no" here, maybe a little hysterical laughter)

I'm hoping that I end up with a country-shaped bruise, a 12-foot fun-fur scarf and my underpants on my head. If you're there, come over and say hi (but remember to be nice, we all have pointy sticks).

note: please do not try to burgle my house while i'm out. i'm taking the cashmere to the bar with me and my husband will be home guarding the alpaca.

Monday, July 16, 2007


Party on the Patio

We had my kid's birthday party yesterday afternoon and despite a few glitches, she declared it "the best party ever".

The main glitches were the attendees. You see we had sent out invitations on June 28th. Two and a half weeks ago, right? After about ten days when I hadn't received a single call, I had this dreadful vision of having paid $230 for a hall for the kid's party and only two kids showing up (if that).

I've whined on and on about my finances for long enough that you all can imagine just how easily we could handle losing that much money. So ... I cancelled the hall and planned to have the party at the house of a friend who had generously offered her pool for the event.

So comes Thursday, three days before the party, and I start getting calls. One from a kid who I can't understand on the answering machine and who didn't leave a phone number, and one from a mom who hadn't told me beforehand that her son was coming ... and whose kid is terrified of water.


I told the second mom we'd be delighted to have her son come and he could paddle in the shallow end or play on the deck, but she declined to show up. I managed to figure out the other kid's name and track down his number (very common last name, so I couldn't even find them in the book) and they showed up.

And then, when we get home? Guess what's on my answering machine? A call from some parents who had not RSVPd but who had just showed up and who were waiting, two hours after the revised time of the party, outside the cancelled venue.


I'll call them tomorrow and we can maybe all go on a picnic this coming weekend (insanely inconvenient for me but I hate disappointing the kids). But really. Dudes.

RSVP doesn't mean (as my father insists it does) "Reply Sending Vedding Present". Y'all gotta call!

Oh, and I'm insane about quizzes and memes and stuff apparently. I get to find out all sorts of good stuff about myself, because you know if you read it on the interwebs that it's true!

For instance:

You are Bettie Page

Girl next door with a wild streak
You're a famous beauty - with unique look
And the people like you are cultish about it
What Famous Pinup Are You?

Sunday, July 15, 2007


Lovely Perfume, Did You Marinate In It?

One of the things I have learned during my time as one of The Bus People is that not all persons have the same sort of ... um ... sensibility with regard to smell.

I have a very good friend who has been battling The Stink Wars at work but I won't link to her seeing she's not given permission to do so. She is working with someone who doesn't realize that his need to stink of perfume for about 500 yards around him intrudes on his coworkers' need to breathe. It's very special. And may well send someone to the hospital at some point in the near future.

I, too, am battling The War of the Stink, but I have less control over it than does she. The offender in her workplace will either eventually stop wearing stink or be fired, however I'm dealing with Public Stink here, people.

Some folks need to use deodorant. Some folks don't.

I used it religiously for years -- remember, I'm the daughter of people who Live in Fear of Smell. I stopped wearing it when my armpits became a horrible allergic mess, and haven't worn it on a regular basis for years now, however when it's hot outside or I'm going to be doing something that will make me sweat I wear an organic deodorant and all is well.

But that isn't the issue. The issue is smell as an accessory. I sometimes wear a tiny bit of scented body cream. It's nice, it's subtle, and unless you have your nose right down my cleavage you likely won't notice it.

And if you do, and you don't like it, I won't wear it next time.

Some folks, however, seem to feel that it's all right to share their stink with the universe. They are wrong. Their right to stink stops where my right to breathe starts.

I was on the bus the other day and someone sat down in front of me and he was wearing some sort of scent. I sure hope it was applied because if he smells like that there's something horribly wrong.

It had a zingy citrus overtone, perhaps lime, with a nasty dark undertone. I mean really the closest thing I could think of was mentholated meat. And that's just not right. I had to ride on the bus for an hour sniffing up mentholated meat. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need counseling at some point for this.

When I rule the world, people will not be allowed to wear stink on buses. And likely not in offices either.

I mean ... eww.

Saturday, July 14, 2007


Good Grief

Today's my bloggiversary. Three years.

Conga line!


Perversion, Do-Goodery, and the Suffering of Friends

Well, I can't think of any combination of things more likely to pique my interest.

My dear friend Bunni is participating in a blog-a-thon for charity. And in return for our support firstly she will subject herself to something insane like a post an hour for 24 hours, and secondly she will tell us all about illicit love in a Parisian hotel room.

All of the details are here.

Dunno about you, but it makes me feel sort of dirty.

And I like it.

Friday, July 13, 2007


It's Not Easy Being Green

I didn't learn to drive until I was 33 and I had no idea how much I relied on my bucket-of-bolts until having had to do without one for a while. I've survived a couple of weeks without a car and although I feel all noble and environmentally-conscious and stuff, it's certainly not easy being green.

The impact has been felt on several fronts, including but not limited to:

1. Groceries. I love The Real Canadian Superstore. For fruit and veggies I usually buy stuff (often elsewhere) in small lots, enough for a couple of days however they have fantastic prices on things like canned, dry and frozen goods and also on dairy. Problem? Yes, the prices are good, but the really good prices are when you buy in bulk. Apparently I cannot carry six large cans of tomatoes and eight large cans of tomato sauce home (on foot) at once without arriving back at the house unable to move my arms and with my knuckles dragging along the dusty road. (yes, we do live on a dusty road, I'm not just taking poetic license here. well, ok, maybe just a bit with the dragging of the knuckles thingie).

We won't discuss the fact that there has been no ice cream in my house for weeks now.

9. Work. Not all that hard to get to work on transit. Dragging all my food and a couple of books with me isn't so much fun but you know I'm gaining the upper body strength of a gorilla (minus the excessive hair, one hopes) so that's a good thing. The only problem is that I have to leave a full hour ahead of my "usual" (with-car) time, and even then if the bus is full, as it was last Friday night, I run the risk of being late for work. Only about a minute and a half late but I don't like doing that to my co-workers.

é. Time. Getting home from work is an entirely different matter. I leave work at 6am. If my relief is 15 minutes early I'm home before 7am, otherwise it's about 7:30 (as opposed to my former 6:20 or so). On Saturdays I have little hope of getting home much before 8.

The problem being that this is my sleeping time -- I have a small daughter and my husband works so at some point I have to, you know, do things like talk to her and feed her and such. I've been getting even less sleep than usual and doing less housework. Reading blogs? Not happening, dude. If you feel I've been neglecting your blog this past couple of weeks, it's only because I have.

@. Personal Safety. I work in a nasty part of town and walk through an even nastier one to get home. There is a 25-minute wait between two of my buses. A man was attacked just outside my workplace a week ago (at exactly the time I leave the building in the morning) and remains in a coma. I really don't feel so good about hanging out on the streets here.

My "other" job is easier to get to (and I can take my bike and ride home -- it's all downhill!) and it's safer there. If anything permanent opens up there, even part time, I'm going to have to jump ship, I think.

x. Health. Although I'm getting tons more exercise, which can't be a bad thingie, I can't get to the dentist. I also have two different tests which my doctor has ordered (no, nothing scary) and I can't get to the two different labs to get them done in the time I have available to me. The stress level is pretty high, too, due in part to the reduced sleep dealie.

2204.6 Fibre Time. I am not getting enough time to dye wool, although some has been done and the store will hopefully be updated this weekend. It's certainly making me cranky, though. We will not discuss spinning, at all.

At least some of this dyeing has involved cashmere and there's been a bit of alpaca too. This makes up for a lot, and has quite possibly saved the lives of those around me.

42. Social Stuff. No popping up to my parents' house for half an hour, no tootling over to a friend's place for coffee to drop off wool and let our kids play together for an hour. Also no trip to see Gramma for summer vacation and no meet-ups for knitting, spinning, etc. This is the suckiest part of the whole deal, methinks.

I've enjoyed some of this. It's nice not to have to try to find a parking spot. It's nice to look out of the window and to talk to my daughter instead of trying to figure out what the assbeagle in the car ahead of me is trying to do. I'm getting a TON more reading done. But really, I'm missing my little pollution-spewing beast.

Things are improving. I'm working something like 7 or 8 shifts at my "other" job this month and Ben's still on full-time so I expect we'll be out and about, happily producing greenhouse gases again within a few weeks. Seven at the most. Even after we get another car I'm going to try to take the bus more often, when time allows.

In the meantime, my hat is off to all of you granola-covered Birkenstock-wearing folks who make this a way of life on purpose.

ps you are all freaks.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007


Oh Hey, It's Tuesday

And I'm not hung over any more, although I am, apparently, completely out of post titles. Cool. Knew it would happen sooner or later.

A little clarification, and answers to some questions (seeing I'm also all out of the funny but I'm rather hoping that one will come back).

The finger: I had left a kitchen drawer open. I had also left a large pot of water with vinegar in it on the floor. I tripped a little while stepping over the pot, reached out to balance myself, stuck my finger in the drawer and jammed it shut and fell against it with my entire weight.

I was sober at the time. It still hurts like hell. My days as a concert pianist are over. (before you ask no, never. but a girl can dream)

The warshcloths: Any size. I like 8x8 but anything from, say, 7x7 to 9x9 would be fine. If you've done a different size, that's fine too. Knitted, crocheted, woven, anything is most excellent, thank you.

There was a question about washing the yarn first and I certainly wouldn't but that has to do with my general slothfulness plus the horrible lack of sleep thing going on around here. If that's what you want to do, please go ahead. Remember these cloths will be used wet, not dry, so they'll be softer than they are dry anyhow.

Uh ... there were other questions. I'm sure there were. In fact there were a ton of comments I haven't answered that I was going to get to but apparently my brain just fell out. Also I have to go clean my house and my daughter hasn't stopped talking for the last two hours (I mean not even to take a breath) so I'm sort of losing it here.

I think she has a future as an auctioneer. Or like one of those guys that hollers at pigs.

Send help. And earplugs.

Monday, July 09, 2007


Things I Have Learned In The Last Two Days

1. If you trip and fall backwards, and fall against a drawer, and your pinkie finger is in the drawer for some damned reason, there will be blood and guts. You likely didn't know there were guts in your pinkie finger, but believe me, there was enough blood for me to assume that guts were also involved. (I learned this night before last).

I now have a busted-open pinkie finger (who knew 160 lbs against the drawer could cause that much damage) and a deep-seated hate for one of my kitchen drawers.

It's very sexy, let me tell you.

2. Whisky tastes very good but it has way too much alcohol in it and will make you dye things that are very bright and sort of insane but beautiful. You could go blind walking into my bathroom right about now, with all of the wool hanging from the shower curtain rod.

3. If you are dyeing wool while drunk, even if you are wearing gloves and if you are not dyeing anything at all that is purple, you will end up with purple hands. (again with the sexy but the blood red fingernails make up for it).

4. Cooked vinegar smells bad. But I sort of like it.

5. I am allergic to Eucalan.

Write this down. It will be on the final.


Why On Earth Do People Not Tell Me Things?

Now people, I do not drink nearly as much as I claim to and I think most of you have figured that out, because if I did I'd be dead. Or unemployed.

However I do like me a frosty beverage from time to time. Several. I am by no means a tea-totaller. Mostly because I like coffee better.

I drink beer. My favourite is Widmer's Hefeweisen made by the glorious Widmer Brothers in Portland, Oregon and my regular libation (seeing we can't get Widmer's here) is Okanagan Springs Pale Ale. I will sometimes (about once every month or so) buy a bottle of something red in the wine department to go with dinner. That's about it.

However tonight I decided to have a slurp or three from Ben's bottle of Whisky. Just a little slurp. No more than oh, three or four ounces.


Oy. Did you know that stuff has alcohol in it? Like a whole shitpile of it?

Yeah, me either.

So now it's four ayem, I'm snapped as a chicken's neck and up dyeing wool. I've just dyed something for Mrs. Q to whom I am too lazy (or drunk) to link (I just typed "to whom I am too lazy to knit" oh I slay me) and now I'm heading for the pinks and purples.

Someone take my gloves away before I hurt something.

And thank you so much for the response to the washcloth drive. I suspect, as do many of you, that 100 is a conservative (dare I say silly?) number.

The address to which you should mail them is:

Rabbitch (or Rabbitworks, or my real name if you know it)
#241-718-333 Brooksbank Avenue
North Vancouver, BC
Canada V7J 3V8

That looks like a strange address, but it's my PO box at the UPS store and they refer to the boxes as "suites" so that's how you write it.

And also too I'm not being coy about my name. Most of you know my first name is Janice (although I'm always startled if someone calls me that -- it's not an appropriate name and I may change it at some point) however I don't put my last name on here seeing, you know, I've publicly declared that my manager at work blows goats and so I'd rather not get dinged with the Google thing.

Not that she knows how to use a computer. Or manage. Anything.

And I have it on good authority that she doesn't blow goats. The goats are pickier than that.

Um, I should go and dye more wool now, right?


OK, send washcloths, I'll appreciate it when I sober up. For those who asked for specifics, any size is fine. I knit mine plain garter stitch 8x8" so that's about 40 stitches on a 4.5mm needle -- a 7 US. 7-9" squares are good. Knitted, crocheted, or woven, in cotton (or mostly cotton) fibre. Bernat cotton is good, Peaches N Cream is good too. Really anything. Just not acrylic because that just scratches and doesn't hold water.

OK, really going to dye wool now. Honest.

Um, see you tomrrow.

This is feeling like one of those phone calls ... "you hang up first" "No, you hang up" ... but allegedly nobody is talking to me ...

Sunday, July 08, 2007


C'mon People Now

edited to add: i am able to add titles now, but only if i use the shift+tab thingie. i shall just think of blogger as another dryer. it works, but only sort of, and only when it wants to ... thanks for all of the suggestions!

Love is just a song we sing,
Fear's the way we die.
You can make the mountains ring,
Or make the angels cry.

Though the bird is on the wing,
and you may not know why.

Come on people now
smile on your brother
everybody get together
and try to love one another right now

Yeah, I'm all granola and Birkenstocks and I think we've known that for some time now, yes?

So seeing Ann's mentioned it several times, I might as well out myself here. I'm doing a drive for washcloths, for the Women's Information Safe House. This is an agency that provides services to survival sex workers on Vancouver's Downtown East Side. We're a very prosperous and wealthy city, however ironically we also have the poorest neighbourhood in all of Canada.

Most of these ladies aren't out there by choice, however poverty and addiction have driven them to sell what most of us give away for free through love, affection, or fun.

They don't have a choice.

The Woman's Information Safe House provides coffee, showers, food, educational resources, and sometimes a place to crash for an hour or two.

Most social services are on very limited budgets, and although WISH can provide towels, washcloths are out of the question (as they are at all shelters that I have dealt with through the years).

So ... every single one of these ladies is someone's daughter. Many are someone's sister, mother or auntie. For a multitude of reasons, their families can't or won't take care of them (often their families don't know how they are making their living, which falls into the "can't" category in my books). We can't get everyone off the streets and we can't support everyone. Hell, I have trouble supporting my own family, as you know. However ... we can make a washcloth so that they have something handmade to wash themselves with.

There will be prizes, and the deadline will be like October or something. I have to finish posting the hat prize thingie that I did last year first.

But if anyone would like to knit a washcloth or three ... gentlepersons, start your engines.

My goal is 100. Ann's done something like sixteen already so I don't think we'll have too much trouble getting there.

Saturday, July 07, 2007


We Have Good News & We Have Bad News, Again

The bad news is that Ben took apart the back of the dryer and it's fairly comprehensively fucked. There are burned out things and burned through things and it's all burny and dead.

The good news is ... well ... Ben took apart the back of the dryer like he'd promised to.

So basically it's bad news and bad news I'm just trying to be all Pollyanna here.

We got this dryer from Craigslist when we moved in here, and it was very old then so it's not like it owes anyone anything, and we can dry our clothes outside seeing it's summer now. It's not a tragedy and it still works on the air dry cycle.

And one day soon when I have a car again I'll get another dryer off of Craigslist. But really. I'm just sick of machinery these days.

But at least I'm not drinking bleach today.

Friday, July 06, 2007


I Have The Brain of a Syphillitic Weasel

Apparently it was not Norma who made the Sherpa reference, but Carol.

Clearly I am a twat. Thank the FSM that I don't have more friends or it would just be a huge mess over here.

Carol has kindly agreed not to stab me to death with a dpn.

And now I'm going to check if I have any of that bleach left...

Thursday, July 05, 2007


I Am Not The World's Slurpee

Heh. This made me actually and for real LOL.


Bunnie: We have to fucking well kill Ben
Bunnie: ok so today is E's birthday, right?
Mouse: OMG..
Bunnie: and she gets invited to go to B's to swim
Bunnie: I ask Ben if he wants to go and swim (it's hot here)
Mouse: tell the little rugrat I said happy birthday
Mouse: or whatever
Bunnie: he says no, I can go if I want and he will do dishes while I'm out
Bunnie: so
Bunnie: I say well will you do the LR too because it has to be done
Bunnie: he says yes he will do what he can get done
Bunnie: so I haven't been swimming for ages and I love B's gramma so we go.
Bunnie: Get back ... guess what?
Mouse: hm
Mouse: he's asleep on the sofa
Mouse: and has done NOTHING
Mouse: am I close?
Mouse: Rabbitch.. in the livingroom.. with a candlestick
Bunnie: no, he was in the kitchen, but he'd washed about five pieces of cutlery and that's it.
Mouse: wait.. let me change that
Mouse: Rabbitch.. in the KITCHEN.. with a clean knife
Mouse: ( I love Clue)
Bunnie: with ~THE~ clean knife, not A. You make it sound like there was more than one
Mouse: heh
Mouse: then you might not want to use a clean one
Mouse: someone might want toast with jam.. and then what would you do?
Bunnie: I'd tell them to get their own fucking toast with jam, I am not the world's Sherpa any more.
Mouse: I just had to read that twice..
Bunnie: I don't know if the Sherpa traditionally makes toast.
Mouse: the first time I thought it said "Slurpee"
Bunnie: I just laughed out loud
Mouse: and the second time I thought you said Sharpei


I'm not usually one to blog private conversations but I have permission. And this made me snort.

And I have nothing else to blog about because I suck, and such.

Thank you to Norma for the Sherpa comment and to Mouse for giving me permission to blog this so I didn't have to think of anything witty to say.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007


Hardly Surprising



Well that's certainly going to keep me up at night. But really, it only confirms what I already suspected.

Sunday, July 01, 2007


Happy Canada Day


Almost let the day end without wishing you and yours a happy Canada Day.

Kidlet and I had a great time down at Canada Place -- bouncy castles, a not-entirely-vile cover band (I couldn't help but think "close but kinda meatless" every time they played), a complete lack of food apart from ice cream and $4 cups of shaved ice, but spending the day watching Herself go completely mental was worth it.

Tomorrow we attack The Evil Garden. I promise before and after pictures. Unless I don't buy a new camera (returning the borrowed one shortly to my darling Wenchlette) and then you'll just get "before" pictures. I'll get E to draw the "after" shots.

Hope you had a happy and safe day, eh?

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