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To link to this blog from blog posts/comments, use [blog Noisy_Introvert], from anywhere else use http://personals.girlfriendsmag.com/blog/Noisy_Introvert, and to read it remotely use the  feed.
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| Shut Yer Toilet: A Love Story |
Jun 10, 2008 1:54 pm
16465 Views |
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Good afternoon, gentle readers. I'm here to share a tale of love amongst the fucksticks. The Dawg and I were truly blessed and inspired (never to return) when we visited Niagara Fucks this past weekend. What a dump.
We started off strong: I convinced the Dawg it was safe to take the bus there. He'd been lobbying for the train, which only leaves Toronto twice a day, 8 a.m. (cha, right) and 5 p.m. The bus leaves far more regularly. He was dubious about our comfort level. I'm like, it's not a school bus. (Secretly, I wondered if perhaps he wasn't more of a carsnob than I'd realized. Poor little California baby, never had to use the public or mass transit???)
So we get on the bus, and not 15 minutes into the ride, we were rewarded for our gutsy embrace of the lower to lower middle class lifestyle with a real life episode of The Surreal Life. This husband and wife were at the back of the bus (natch), yelling at each other, insulting one another, using the F word (my virgin ears!!!) at high volume, etc. Lest you should write them off as trailer park trash unworthy of further consideration, I submit evidence of a highly creative mind at work: instead of just telling his wife to "shut up", or even "shut the fuck up", or heck, "shut your fuckin piehole", the husband frequently told his wife to "shut yer toilet". It was magical. (Of course the Dawg told me to shut my toilet all weekend. And I swooned every time as I punched him.)
So have y'all ever been to Niagara Fucks? There's a reason they call it that. Well, actually, I don't know if "they" actually call it that. But that's what we call it. The place is teeming with them. Holy jeez. I thought pedestrian travel was bad walking down Yonge Street during rush hour. [post 69687] would probably spontaneously combust with rage. The Dawg nearly did. (Especially when he got stuck behind a double-width stroller. Yeeeeiiikes.)
Yeah, so, we got there Friday night, had a nice meal and were startled at the restaurant by the occasional appearance of a singing hostess, who wandered around the restaurant with a wireless mike singing solid gold hits of the 70s, 80s and 90s (no Green Day, alas, but she did burst into The Cardigans' "Love Fool", even the spoken word part, as she sauntered by our table. I kept my eyes steadfastly fixed on my chicken.)
After dinner we wandered down to the river to watch the fireworks over the Falls (every Friday and Sunday night plus US & Cdn holidays, all summer long). I did my best to avoid all the folks - sorry, I mean fucks - who were taking photos. I would wait politely for them to finish. Soon it became apparent to me that waiting politely was a fool's game, like housework. It was never over. By the time Saturday rolled around, I was a regular background presence in pretty much every picture being taken anywhere near me. The fucksticks didn't seem to mind.
Speaking of Saturday, we were a little spooked by the spectacle of it all (the "strip" on Clifton Hill is a sight to behold... all wax museums and haunted houses and Ripley's Believe It or Not and waffle cones and hot dogs and neon lights (most of the power generated by the water power of the Falls is probably used to light up that 1 km stretch - at least it is self-sustaining)... Anyway, we didn't emerge from the hotel on Saturday until around 2. We shuffled through the high tide of fucksticks til we got to the park, smoked a joint (thank christ for dope), and proceeded to the Maid of the Mist. Obviously, if you are going to suffer this punishing concentration level of fucks, you must make it worth your while by seeing the Falls properly. (The Dawg said he wanted to get as close to the Falls as he could without dying.)
After getting drenched and awed (in that order), we got some greasy delicioushnesh and then scurried back to our hotel by 6 p.m. and did not emerge the rest of the evening. The Dawg amused himself by taking hideously ugly photos of me sprawled out, Niagara Fuck style, in a trashy, saggy get up as I lounged and ate chocolate. Thanks, Dawg.
But the next day we made up for it by walking to the Butterfly Conservatory, which was a 7 or 8 km walk outside of town, alongside the beautiful, green, at times angry ("fuckin fucksticks!!! get out of here!!!!") Niagara River. It was 43 degrees with the humidex, or 109 in American.
The butterflies were beautiful, delicate and awe-inspiring, even as they flitted about the crowds of fucksticks. They seemed unaffected by it all. Good for them. We walked back to the hotel (where they tried to charge us for parking, those fucks), grabbed our bags, and plodded through the heat and the decrepit houses of the "downtown" district back to the bus station.
The ride back was peaceful, if sticky. I looked over at the Dawg, and thought about how lucky I am to have him. He looked over at me and sleepily muttered, "shut yer toilet", and I knew that all was right with the world. |
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41 Comments
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| Drunkblog '77 |
Jun 2, 2008 9:21 pm
Mood: 30, 14077 Views |
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helllllllllloooooooooooooooooo
i am drunk and ornery. yues, ornery. fuck typos, know what i'm sayhihn? cocks. anyway. speaking of which, what's the dillio with FIVE BLOG POSTS IN A ROW ASKING INANE QUESTIONS? CAN'T YOU JUST PUT THEM ALL IN ONE BLOG? i find it annoying, and what with the lowered inhibitoins and all, i'm just gonna go ahead and say so. fuck. quit hogging the front page, man. can i getanamen?
evs.
so anyway. i've thought about blogging recently. i really wabnted to talk to you all about "so you think you can make your kid a star" or whatever it's called. have yhall seen this show? it is awesome and heinous all at once. yhou hate it and yourself for watching. but danny bonadouche (NOT a typo) makes it all worthwhile. talk about trainwreck theatre. word.
anyuwahy, the poihnnt is, i felt bad because i didn'[t answer all those pressing questions being levied at Ask Noisy. i didn't feel i could blog forward withoujt tying up these loose cannons. I mean ends. but whatgvever, this is one of my worst typo drunkblogs evef,r wroujldn't yoiu say? it's because of this tarnation laptob. for a long time I thought it was labtop. not laptop. did anyone else make that mistake? wahtever i bore myuself.
this si so effiffffffffffin lame . note period. it stands alone, like the cheese.
okahy. I'd just like to dedicate this to the worst hat desighner of our tijme, who for some reason has a jones for my drujnkblogs. this bud's for yhou, mfaldskaj. that's youir new nickname. i think it suits yuou.
this laptop is the craps.
okay, time to cdrash. pray for me. |
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20 Comments
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| One more reason to hate those frigging emotibastards |
May 11, 2008 2:10 pm
16185 Views |
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(Not that I needed one.)
First off, a tip 'o' the blog to girlwonder for coining the term "emotibastard". Props/respeck yo nizzle ma shizzle.
Anyway, here I am at the office on Sunday, the day of rest. Whatever, cry cry blah, it's fine. It's not so bad. I can blare the tuneses, work at my own pace, stop to do an online jigsaw or play a round of Bejeweled if I need to be validated for being "Good!", "Excellent!" or occasionally even "Incredible!" and nobody looks at me funny for wasting donor dollars while I'm supposed to be productive. Sometimes excellence just takes as long as it takes.
Point is, coming in to the office on the weekend is great because of the solitude. I don't have to make any stupid, inane small talk in the kitchen or worry about people hearing me take a whizz in the communal washrooms or anything. I love being the only one here.
So a little while ago, I heard some one yelling "Helloooooooooooo!" and I was like, ah, jeeeez. Am I gonna have to make chagrined small talk about having to work on the weekend? She sounded like a fucking refugee from the pep squad. I unenthusiastically called out, "Hello," and waited. Nothing.
A few minutes later, it happened again. Same stupid "yoo-hooooooo" intonation: "Hel-looooooooooooo!!!" God it was irritating. I called back again, and waited. She sounded really near by, so I figured whoever it was would be rounding the corner any second and would beseige me with some breathless exhortation punctuated with some kind of punch-inducing clichés. But she never turned up.
Finally, she called "Helllloooooooooooo!" again. I yelled, "HELLO!" impatiently. Great. Now I'm going to have to reassure whoever this silly twat is, and apologize for being short with her. Man, this was really putting me in a bad mood. Plus I would have to stop playing my jigsaw puzzle because I would be really embarrassed if someone from the office saw me in here on a Sunday, and istead of working, I was doing some stupid online game. So I went to shut down the game, and my mouse moved over... you guessed it... one of those fucking emotibastard advertisements. And there it was, calling out "Helloooooooooo!" every time my mouse nudged it. GAH! FUCK!
I was so irritated I couldn't even laugh about it. Instead I made that nice photoshop picture for you.
I told the Dawg though. He laughed so hard he started whizzing wild, uncontrolled scent spray all over. Whenever I got irritated with him after that, he countered with, "Hellloooooooooo!"
Pawdammit.
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28 Comments
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| Blind optimism |
May 6, 2008 2:36 pm
20714 Views |
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I keep waiting for something exciting to happen.
So far, no go. If you hear of anything, please let me know. |
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60 Comments
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| Be a dear, press "clear" |
May 2, 2008 7:31 am
Mood: 67, 16927 Views |
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At least four times this week, I have wandered into the lunch room at work, glanced at the microwave clock and thought to myself, "Am I losing time?" or "Since when is it ever :38 o'clock?"
Then my eyes narrow irritably and I very purposefully, impatiently (some might say self-importantly) stride over to the microwave and press "Stop/Clear" and the correct time is restored.
I want to know: What is with these people who take stuff out of the microwave and then just walk away without clearing the timer????
- Do they think they're conserving energy?
- Are they planning to return later to warm their coffee with the remaining time on the clock?
- Are they just soooooooo important that they can't take the extra half-second to push the "Stop/Clear" button?
- Do they think the meeting will start without them, and they'll miss the first half-second?
- What are they, new?
I don't wanna hear no guff about my obsessive compulsiveness, neither.
PS Burnt microwaved popcorn stinks up the whole office, you know.
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29 Comments
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| I just want to ensure we are all on the same page here. |
Apr 30, 2008 10:10 am
18923 Views |
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With respect to best practices for blogging vis-à-vis internal stakeholders (bloggers), high-level external stakeholders (commenters), and core audience readership, I just want to flag the need to strategize the in house deliverables moving forward to provide a maximum efficiency output.
As per version 1.2.1.1.4 of the project charter (final-final-FINAL approval pending), in line with the visioning document created at last month's Sharing is Caring (Oversharing is Wearing) blog retreat, and with the caveat that we are looking to fast track the paradigm shift in order to achieve the necessary buy-in and to leverage the core competency brain dump, please view this memo as a value added milestone along our critical path in moving forward.
ACTION ITEM: Please bring your ideas to the table for a brainstorming session below, and remember the KISS formula: kill idiomatic speakers, STAT.
Maybe we should take this offline. |
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36 Comments
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| Paradise by the Lompoc light |
Apr 28, 2008 8:03 pm
16230 Views |
Hellooo, blogstars! I'm back! Did you miss me? What do you mean you didn't even notice I was gone?
Not to rub it in or anything, but Southern California was a freakin paradise this past weekend. Every day was endless sunshine, blue sky, and 80-90ºF. Plus, schmoopies. Lots and lots of schmoopies. If it makes you feel any better, it's fucking freezing back here in Toronto, and tomorrow morning I have a three hour meeting first thing in the morning. KLUNK. Don't let the Earth hit you in the ass on your way back down.
I arrived late Thursday night, and after sleeping in and yadda yadda yadda, the Dawg announced on Friday that we were heading out for the weekend. I love this. Last time I visited, he whisked me away to Death Valley, which I had always wanted to see, but didn't tell me where we were going until I saw the signs on the highway and he confirmed it. It's so awesome to have surprises planned for you.
So, we headed out late Friday afternoon, and a few hours later we arrived at our destination, a little town in Santa Barbara county called Lompoc. From what I could tell, its main claim to fame and economic resource is the Vandenberg Air Force Base, plus a ton of agriculture, including lots of wine production. In fact, fans of the excellent movie Sideways may recognize the Lompoc Valley as the location where much of the film was shot.
Speaking of Sideways, on Saturday night, we went to one of the best restaurants I've ever been to, a steakhouse called The Hitching Post, in a wee nearby town called Casmalia. In the movie, Virgina Madsen plays a waitress at The Hitching Post II, in Buellton, which is owned and operated by the same family.
This restaurant has been in the same family, the Ostinis, since 1952. I went to their website (hitchingpost1 ... com) and read the brief history, which is so charming in its gentle boasting of all the family members who've enjoyed working there over the years.
Every single person who waited on us, from the front door, to the hostess to the variety of waitresses who stopped by to see how we were doing were friendly, solicitous, efficient and totally unpretentious.
The table was set with a basket of crackers and breadsticks, and a simple, elegant tray of raw veggies to chew on. The menu was simple. Every meal comes with a shrimp or fruit cocktail to start, green salad, choice of fries, baked potato or delicioush grilled veggies, and a bowl of ice cream or sherbet for desert. It sounds like a lot, but the portions were reasonable (I got a 5 oz. filet mignon with the guilt-free grilled veggies) and at the end of the meal I felt totally satisfied but not at all uncomfortable.
The BEST part of the meal was the appetizer. If you ever find yourself at this restaurant, you MUST order the grilled artichoke as an appetizer. Oh. Ma. Ga. You don't even know. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW!!!
While in Lompoc, we also enjoyed a fantastic 5 mile hike at Point Sal, near the aforementioned military base, through lush, rolling green hills, with so many beautiful and diverse wildflowers to look at along the way, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific once we'd tramped through the hills. Lots of little lizardy guys skittering across our path to keep us company, too.
Sigh. It was just a fantastic weekend. If you ever find yourself in the area, be sure to have a meal at The Hitching Post. You won't be sorry.
I gotta try and get my sleep schedj back on track before heinous 3 hour meeting tomorrow morning... |
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22 Comments
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| Voting on photos |
Apr 24, 2008 11:20 am
15299 Views |
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Hey guys, what are your thoughts on this feature?
For the longest time, I thought the application was busted, since one day it just up and stopped working for me (i.e. I wasn't able to vote on other people's photos). When I got my silver membership, I realized that it wasn't busted, just yoinked from standard member privileges.
So, up until last night, I allowed voting on my pics. I mean, hardly anybody votes on them (I think the most votes I had for a single picture was around 9 or 10, but most were around 4 or 5, especially since only metal members can vote). But the people who did, I think they were mostly bloggers and they were a pretty soft audience – maybe people give out photo votes like they do kudos, you know? My average votes were mostly between 9 and 10. It was nice; a little shot in the arm from friends.
Last night I went in to change my picture (PLUSHIE MADNESS was fun, but I can't wear that winter coat any longer, even in the blogs... spring is here at last, my friends!) I noticed that someone had gone through all 19 of my photos and voted "0". I could tell because the averages were all much lower, and there were one or two pics that only had 2 votes total and the average was now "5".
I mean, what is that all about? Is somebody making a point about the vanity of allowing votes on photos? I found it very weird. Passive aggressive and weird. Passive aggressive, childish and weird.
I turned the function off. |
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31 Comments
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To link to this blog from blog posts/comments, use [blog Noisy_Introvert], from anywhere else use http://personals.girlfriendsmag.com/blog/Noisy_Introvert, and to read it remotely use the feed.
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