The FORTRESS of SOLITUDE

pas·sive-ag·gres·sive adj.

"Of, relating to, or having a personality disorder characterized by habitual passive resistance to demands for adequate performance in occupational or social situations, as by procrastination, stubbornness, sullenness, and inefficiency."

I have a roommate who is so passive aggressive that he manages to wrangle, squeeze, wring a twisted excuse out of every situation. With sweat on his brow and blood from his knuckles, he pushes that bitch out with unerring efficiency. And the excuse generally involves how everything is my fault.

Please review the past evidence of this behaviour: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6.

After you've processed all that passive-aggressiveness (in case you're too lazy to read - my roommate blames me for a) his drinking, b) his not locking the door, c) breaking my ironing board and d) generally anything in his life), move on to this:

All of the bills for the apartment are in my name - the cable/internet/mobile phones and the Bell Canada bill. In a not entirely timely fashion, I prepare them and divide them up with a program I created in Excel and print them out, make a colour photocopy for the roommate to review and keep for his records. I did this the last time at the beginning of September, presenting him with 2 cable bills and 2 phone bills because we're behind a month. He paid the cable bill, left out a receipt and took the copies. I didn't hear anything else. Then I noticed when the new phone bill arrived that it had not been paid. I left him a note* reminding him and the $60 was left the next morning.

*you may be wondering why there are so many 'notes' to my roommate. He is an alcoholic, but fortunately, he doesn't really do it at home, he always does it at his local bar. EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. Fine, I really don't care, but he likes to blame me for his drinking. So, in turn, he blames me for the lack of communication between us. Fact is, I can't talk to someone who isn't there and I don't think I should have to go to a bar to ask my roommate to pay his bills. My notes are never rude, they're politely assertive, and the only way I can communicate with someone who doesn't ever hang out at home...

On a related note, my roommate and I have lived together for nearly a year and a half and he has cleaned the living room LITERALLY 5-6 times and the bathroom LITERALLY 3-4 times. No exaggeration. He occasionally cleans the kitchen, but it is generally just the cup, dish or silverware he just used. Despite the living room being filled with my furniture (not out of domination, out of necessity - he has NOTHING. He also uses my futon as a bed).

Two weeks ago, I went to Waterloo to visit my boyfriend** and just generally hang out, get away from Toronto, etc. When I returned, the apartment was...gasp!...clean. I was shocked. The living room was given a once over, as well as the kitchen. The bathroom was given a very cursory cleaning, but it's the effort that counts...I guess.

**my roommate also has an issue going to his boyfriend's place. He never does - either because he isn't allowed or because he doesn't want to. In any event, he NEVER goes there and the last time we spoke about it (maybe 5 months ago), he hadn't been ever. Personally, this would tip me off to some kind of issue, but then again, it's probably my fault his boyfriend doesn't allow him to go over...

Anyway, anyway, anyway - this was all well and good and hunky dory, fuck you, too.

Then this week, I get a call from Rogers, stating that money is owed to them. I ask how much and...BLAMMO! Guess what? It's the exact, to-the-penny amount that my roommate owes. Shock of shocking shocks.

I sent an email to the roommate. Here it is:

"Sean,
I don't know if you remember or not, but I requested that you pay the Rogers bill on October 15 (the bill was supposed to be paid by the 15th of September, according to Rogers*). The documentation regarding this particular bill was given to you already. I assumed, since you took the note and left $60 for Bell that the cable bill had been paid and you forgot to give me a receipt.
I just got a call from Rogers (at work) asking where this money was. If it's not paid, our cable, internet and mobile phone service is being cut off tomorrow. Please ensure this is paid and that future bills are paid on time. I know that I'm behind in giving you the Rogers bill for September (*we're actually a full month behind since 7-8 months ago, we both skipped a month of paying. I've been paying $200 every month since August to cut down the one month behind, but you still are 1 month behind since you're paying the amount of the bill only).
I have the phone and cable bills for September and will divide them up tonight, but this other bill needs to be paid ASAP."

I think it's rather calm considering Rogers had just phoned me to cut off our service. It's assertive, no doubt, but c'mon - it's money he's known about for a month and a half.

So...brace yourself. This was the response (please note, this is unaltered, unedited and unembellished):

"I got the email, I was planning on paying it tonight. If you actually took the time to talk to me once in a while, I would have told you that Bell hired me full time this month, but my pay was held back for 3 weeks as a result (I used to get paid every week) So I had to borrow money from my folks just so I could go on frikin my vacation, I finally got paid so I will take care of it."

Let's break this shit down, shall we?

1) It's rather convenient that he was going to pay it 'tonight,' n'est pas?
2) I don't talk to him 'on purpose.'
3) It's my responsibility to ask him if he's got a new job.
4) It's my responsibility to ask him if his financial situation has changed.
5) What does having to borrow money to go to Las Vegas have to do with me?
6) Through an unnamed source, that my roommate knows I'm close with, I found out that he's not working FULL TIME, he's still a temporary employee. Also, his pay was shifted for ONE WEEK, not THREE, so he only needed a week's extra cash.

The real problem is, he wanted to go on vacation - I mean, not cleaning your apartment and basically passive-aggressive behaviour makes you long for a break, no? To go on vacation, he was going to have to skip paying a bill AND borrow money from his 'rents - this, to me, would mean I couldn't afford it. Instead of coming back (he returned on a Sunday and got paid on the Friday just before - not the day he wrote the email (the Tuesday after he returned), which he implied) and paying it before Rogers had a chance to call me, he waits until I make an issue of it and then acts like the victim, as always.

I was flabbergasted at the dillusional, passive-aggressive nature of his reply, but all responses seemed too mean and too rude, so I didn't bother writing anything. I figured, fuck, he's paying the bill, why make anything more of it.

Then...I come home the next night from work and WOAH! The living room and kitchen were clean - twice in 30 days. Shocking! That trip to Vegas certainly rejuvenated him! The bathroom, however, was untouched (as per usual). Ah well, perhaps we're finally making progress.

This morning, I get up, open my door and walk through the living room. I look over at the shelf under the window and...it is populated by every tacky, ugly, chintzy knick knack EVER conceived in a gypsy's insane mind. A pack of tarot cards (HELLO, 1973!) was opened and cut in the middle - in other words, it takes up 3x as much space as before. Not passive aggressive at all, huh? His trying to assert some kind of ownership over the shared space is making him go mental - mental to the point that good taste and common sense no longer have a foothold in his decorating sense.

Do we truly need a crystal ball in the middle of the coffee table?

I cannot wait until he goes crazy enough to move out. I think we're getting closer.

Also, I know where this all started. It started when I quit smoking. My roommate and I quit smoking on the same day. He lasted less than 24 hours while I will never smoke again (Free and Healing for One Year, Twenty Nine Days, 17 Hours and 7 Minutes, while extending my life expectancy 34 Days and 6 Hours, by avoiding the use of 9868 nicotine delivery devices that would have cost me $3,109.19.). When I quit smoking, I told my roommate that I didn't want smoke in the shared spaces (for any number of reasons - it's all my furniture, my curtains, my electronic equipment, and not to mention the health factor). He, of course, played the victim and claimed later on that making him smoke in his room was the equivalent of making him break his back to build the trans-Canada railroad.

I told him that my not smoking won't ever give him cancer. The subject was closed, he knew he was defeated. But, unfortunately, like most passive aggressive people, he cannot let go of the fact that throughout his life, he's felt hard done by and blames everyone else. Of course, I don't know this for a fact - but the evidence speaks for itself.

I won't even start on the time he got angry with me for not saying "Hi!" to him in a crowded bar when we'd just seen each other 15 minutes before at home...

...MENTAL.

He also enjoys slamming doors and ignoring my "Hey" when he walks in the door. Just this Tuesday, my buddy and I were watching TV. He came in. I said "Hi!" He doesn't acknowledge. My friend says "Hi!" and he goes, "Oh, hey!"

Anyone so desperate to be a relationship that they'll tolerate their significant other never letting them even set foot in their house...you got some issues that need dealing with. And the problem ain't your roommate (see live-in maid).

I've been a bit lax since going to Waterloo on Saturday afternoon. Not much to write about. Having a severe sleep pattern fuck up, but coming back to normal, thankfully.

Waterloo was fun. I bought an air popper. Sweet.

As a huge ABBA fan, I was excited and dismayed to hear that Madonna's new single heavily samples their 1979 hit, Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight). Bjorn Ulveaus and Benny Andersson RARELY let anyone sample their works of pop perfection - in fact, only once before was it allowed (on The Fugees Rumble In The Jungle, which samples The Name of the Game's very recognizable melody). The two songwriters, obviously with a little twinkle in their eye, saw it fit to release the rights to Madonna to use the signature tune from their disco hit. I'm sure they know it will expose them to even more people (being surpassed by Madonna as the single artists in the UK probably had something to do with it). Close to 400 million albums sold, though - a feat Madonna will never achieve.

Having said all that, the tune is undeniably catchy. You can hear it here.












She looks CREEPY-OLD in the video, though. Eek!

After that, please bathe yourself in REAL talent and view this.

This week on The Amazing Race: Family Edition - we got not ONE, not TWO, but THREE breakdowns. SCHWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!!

Read the TVGasm.com recap here.

"I'm CRYING NOW. I hope you're HAPPY!!"
"Bitch, we just told you to leave your bag. Pamprin, please."

Last night, The Apprentice: Martha Stewart was on. *sigh* I can't do the episode justice, but it was AWESOME. Unfortunately, we're left with that tool who beats his wife (I just made that up). He seems like a good father and a good worker, so I gotta make shit up because this fucktard HAS to go. NO EXCUSES next week, PRIMARIUS!!

Howie is awesome, I just have to say that. The way he stood up to that DOUCHEBAGGALICIOUS BUTTHAIR was 15 seconds of TV perfection.

What's with their lameass names, too? Matchstick? PRIMARIUS?!

It sounds like a folk band and a transformer.

That...or a character from a Tolkien book. Primarius Matchstick.

S.

As many of you may have heard (largely thanks to her self-grandising, self-back-patting, self-promoting loud mouth) that Oprah has now set her cross-hairs on child molesters. Not satisfied with targetting illiteracy in housewives, bad fashion sense in guidance counsellors and good sense in celebrities, she is PERSONALLY (my OWN money, people...) giving something in the realm of $100,000 to people who assist in the arrest of sexual offenders.
I think this is a GREAT idea. I don't think, however, that Oprah did it with the purest of intentions. Her self-congratulating episode on the matter was (from what I could stomach to watch) an exercise in her molestation and rape of her viewing audience.
Having said all that, it's nice to not be inundated with her religious (sorry, "spiritual") mumbo jumbo.

"Mumbo? Perhaps. Jumbo? Perhaps not."

So yeah, the episode, I begrudingly admit, did some good.

But...wait. The NEXT day she had this:


*sigh* Nevermind.

S.

These are the good times!
Leave your cares behind!
These are the good times!

Chic

Anyway, anyway, anyway...on a brighter note, Orko seems to be recovering nicely. His nose is no longer runny and he sneezes a helluva lot less. He still does explode once in a while, but so does everyone getting over a cold, methinks. At least I do...
The Amazing Race this week was a ‘yawn-making bore of bores” (as Alice Tinker once said). The only hot guy on the show (IMHO - pictured on left, furthest left, actually) was eliminated because his family wouldn't change drivers on a mud run challenge. Oh, that and the fact that they play blowfully. The Bible-thumping family is REALLY getting on my nerves. If that bleached blonde tit-rag says “Lord give us wisdom...” one more time, I’m gonna kill myself. Also, what kind of a challenge is “riding in a gravity simulator”? There’s no RACE involved, people go on, they get off. It’s like the stupid airport bits on the regular Amazing Race where you’re 2 hours ahead of the people and then everyone is even again at the airport because of flight times – STUPID.
Last night I got sucked into America’s Next Top Model (AGAIN). I swear, I’m turning into a freak...well, becoming more of one. Last night’s episode was surprise free – as per usual – and what’s this? They eliminated the fat girl. I love it. They have one token “plus size” (see: HUMAN size) model as a concession to the letter-writing fat-heads of America. Then they eliminate her post haste, conjuring up some clever ‘insecurity’ in editing. Okay, okay, this girl was insecure, but I find it amazing that not ONE of their ‘plus size’ models ever makes it to mid-season. Heehee!
Then Martha’s Apprentice came on. Phew. I’m getting full on sucked into this crap and I don’t care. It’s pretty damn entertaining. The elimination this week was a long time in coming, frankly, and the girl deserved to go. ‘nuff said. Check out TVGasm.com for updates on the above 3 shows later today, I would imagine.
Now, some sad news – it appears that Kathy Griffin’s – My Life on the D-List, is no longer on. WTF?! It’s not like it was cancelled mid-season – the friggin’ show has completed its run on American Bravo. Who friggin’ knows. All I can say is, E and I are gonna be MIGHTILY PO’D.
Tonight we’ve got Survivor...should be fun times. Lydia (the token old lady) goes mental (according to the teaser). BRING IT ON!

S.

The b/f was leaving this morning. On our way to the subway we decided to partake in some Snobfee (better known to peasants as Starbucks). I personally find the machinations of the joint repulsive, but they make a mean light caramel frappuccino.
We walk in and he orders the following (and I quote), "Can I get a Grande Soy no foam latte with a lite caramel frappucino?" The nice lesbo at the cash took my money, called out the drinks (VERBATIM) and then we went and waited by the barista's counter. Remember the order well.
I should clarify a couple things. A LIGHT frappuccino means a) they use Splenda© instead of sugar, and b) they don't put whip cream on. If you order a regular frappuccino, they ask if you want the whip cream or not.
We're standing and waiting, patiently, and then the guy is finishing the b/f's latte and he starts putting the foam at the top (being a former barista, the b/f knows they put a bunch of foam and you get screwed out of at least an inch of coffee). So he says, "Oh, can I get that without the foam, please?" The barista (a youngish, gay male...*cough*) goes, "Okay." The he places the coffee on the counter. He then turns to me and goes, "Do you want whip cream on your frappuccino?"
Confused, I ask, "It is a light, isn't it?"
He sighs and says, "No."
I just look at him and say, "Can I get a light please? That's what was ordered."
And he sighs again, much more loudly this time and starts making it again. I turn to the b/f and apologize for making us late. Then I look over and see the barista talking to the new guy working the cash - another homo, and they're just tutting and tsking and I wanna rip their smug, good for nothing balls off. He finally finishes my drink and gives it to me with a straw that is twice as tall as the cup. I reach over the counter and get the proper straw and we leave.
I ask you this...

...why is it when the barista makes a mistake, I get attitude? Why is it when the barista IGNORES what the order-taker called out, it's MY fault? Why is it that the barista feels he can be catty about customers who rightfully deserve that they ORDERED and PAID FOR? Why is it a 15 year old can do that job, but he acts like he's performing brain surgery and I should be eternally grateful he took a week's training to learn how to use the blender?

Assholes.

Other than that the weekend was good. Ended up waiting in line on Sunday evening to get into a sweaty, over crowded bar where the fat, ugly, minimum wage earning, sexless doorman gives you attitude to assert the miniscule size of his penis and you get to walk in, immediately bead up on your forehead and listen to horrifically bad 80s tunes (that NEVER change week to week). Having said all that, it was indeed funny because I could just judge everyone there - nice. We then went to Woody's to watch a real bad drag show on a television and laugh. Was a good night over all.

S.

I found out some very sad news yesterday regarding the father of one of my closest friends. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I just wanted to send out some positive thoughts his way and wish his father good luck. Love you, man.

Last night I went out to my local to meet my friend, Ian. He reads this so...fuck you, bud. :P Anyway, we decided to head to Woody's to see another friend of ours. Was a rip roaring good time until everyone from the other bar started showing up. See - here's the thing, Ian and I enjoy going to Woody's because it's not the other bar we hang out at. It has different people, different staff (cough) and a different vibe. When it starts filling up with douchebag after douchebag (only two, really...and I live with one of 'em) it gets rather annoying. Unfortunately, there is nothing we could do, so we resigned ourselves to getting rip roaringly drunk.

My original (and best...heehee) plan was to go for ONE drink at the local and then come home, maybe renting a movie on the way. I had wine chilling in the fridge and my friend E was planning on visiting to catch up, watch some Kathy Griffin, get drunk and meet Orko for the first time. Yay!

I ended up going to Woody's with Ian and getting BLITZED. E met me there and we came back to my place. Was great fun. I got wasted, we laughed our asses off and E fell in love with my kitty. I had to wrestle him to the ground to prevent him from stealing the little tyke at the end of the evening.

He also brought back my camera, which has been recharged and put to good use. I've been taking pictures GALORE of Orko - catching up on the month I missed. My personal fave is the Damien picture...

My friend Glen sent me a link to this rather interesting site. Which really does tell the truth about the book that so many people are beholden to for no reason which I can discern. I myself attended Catholic school and created a scandal when I refused confirmation in Grade 8. CLUTCH THE PEARLS! Not my bag, sorry.

I respect people's religions to the extent the law requires.*

Anyway, the site contained this list which I found most amusing...

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Top Ten Signs You're a Fundamentalist Christian

10 - You vigorously deny the existence of thousands of gods claimed by other religions, but feel outraged when someone denies the existence of yours.

9 - You feel insulted and "dehumanized" when scientists say that people evolved from other life forms, but you have no problem with the Biblical claim that we were created from dirt.

8 - You laugh at polytheists, but you have no problem believing in a Triune God.

7 - Your face turns purple when you hear of the "atrocities" attributed to Allah, but you don't even flinch when hearing about how God/Jehovah slaughtered all the babies of Egypt in "Exodus" and ordered the elimination of entire ethnic groups in "Joshua" including women, children, and trees!

6 - You laugh at Hindu beliefs that deify humans, and Greek claims about gods sleeping with women, but you have no problem believing that the Holy Spirit impregnated Mary, who then gave birth to a man-god who got killed, came back to life and then ascended into the sky.

5 - You are willing to spend your life looking for little loopholes in the scientifically established age of Earth (few billion years), but you find nothing wrong with believing dates recorded by Bronze Age tribesmen sitting in their tents and guessing that Earth is a few generations old.

4 - You believe that the entire population of this planet with the exception of those who share your beliefs -- though excluding those in all rival sects - will spend Eternity in an infinite Hell of Suffering. And yet consider your religion the most "tolerant" and "loving."

3 - While modern science, history, geology, biology, and physics have failed to convince you otherwise, some idiot rolling around on the floor speaking in "tongues" may be all the evidence you need to "prove" Christianity.

2 - You define 0.01% as a "high success rate" when it comes to answered prayers. You consider that to be evidence that prayer works. And you think that the remaining 99.99% FAILURE was simply the will of God.

1 - You actually know a lot less than many atheists and agnostics do about the Bible, Christianity, and church history - but still call yourself a Christian.

---

Enough of that unimportant crap - I managed to take in only ONE reality show last night - Survivor: Gautemala, which I have to say I am really into this year. I haven't watched religiously since they went to Africa and that afro-sheened hottie, Ethan Zohn, won the title of Survivor.
In any event, I really enjoy this year solely based on the fact that they nearly kill a contestant in every episode. NICE! In episode 1, we got a heaping helping of death bells ringing as a total of 4 guys were down for the count; one even providing us with an eyes-rolling-into-the-back-of-yer-head moment. Episode 2 had this pretty boy who was still sick from Episode 1, wheezing and hacking and passing out all over the place. Excellent. Last night, we had 114° heat and crocodiles popping up out of the lake near camp. WICKED!
Nothing too eventful this week although they reached an all time low in editing the show to make us think someone was getting voted off who wasn't - it was going to be Brooke from the START and we all knew it.
My new favourite player is the uber-heterosexual New Yorker, Judd, who is an early favourite to win everything. If he keeps playing his cards right, he could land himself into the merger and perhaps the Top 3. Despite being gruff, homophobic, sexist and rude, he manages to be charming and he works his ASS off in challenges.
One minor quibble about last night, however, he took AGES to break a tile in the Immunity Challenge. His hetero pride wouldn't let him give up until he did break it. He should have politely bowed out and let someone else go. Unfortunately, he did not and I think it might come to bite him in the ass next week when his tribe mates decide he betrayed them (as indicated in the preview).
Here's the lowdown - they merged half a tribe with half of another. Judd decided to join with his new tribemates and vote against one of his former tribemates, thereby screwing ALL his former tribemates who are now seriously outnumbered. It's EXCELLENT plan but unfortunately, some crazy ass soccer mom bitch on the team (one of his former tribemates) is none too happy next week and, as I said before, accuses him of 'betraying' them. Get over it, lady...it's SURVIVOR not a QUILTING BEE.
Didn't do much else last night but play with Orko (pictures on left). He seems to hate me this morning for whatever reason - he was very skittish - I might have rolled over him in the middle of the night, poor fellow. He was very accepting when I gave him his meds this morning, although he dribbled quite a bit.
Should have my camera back tonight so I'll have some more pictures of him on flickr.com soon!

Ta,
S.


*based on a quote by Hermes Conrad, Bureaucrat #37, Planet Express Delivery Company

I thought I'd go ghetto like Tyra. Heehee!

Can I just say the BEST show by FAR this year on telly is Kathy Griffin's "My Life on the D-List." I have always marvelled at how funny and irreverant and catty Kathy is on Howard Stern (she appears about once every 2 months) but I had no IDEA her stand-up act was so entirely side-splittingly guffaw-enducing. Last night's episode wasn't technically an episode of MLOTDL, but it was a slice of her stand-up act (which I am murdering homeless people and selling their organs to go see when she *hopefully* comes to Toronto). From her musings on Ryan Seacrest and his ripping open of her shirt on an awards show ("You'll have to forgive Mr. Seacrest, that's the first time he's touched a woman..."), to her commenting on Oprah and Tyra Banks ability to go from British aristocracy to ghetto princesses in the span of one sentence ("Lydia, you have a great ability as a model but you gotta move that she-bang-she-bang, GURL!"), to her comments on Clay Gayken, his fans called "Claymates," his country "Claynation" and his dog Raleigh (who wears a pink bow). The woman is HILARIOUS! I have not laughed so hard at a comedian's thoughts since Judy Tenuta. Her very relatable mode of story-telling, as if she's letting you in on a huge secret and how excited she is to tell it to you is REALLY appealing and fresh. Kudos to Kathy. You've gained a weekly viewer.

Last night was a real TV fest for me (with nothing better to do...actually, I have loads of better shit to do, but I was burning a particularly long DVD of monkey-porn and frankly, you have to have priorities, so it was a small toke and a couch potatoe night for yours truly. My cat kept me from fusing with the couch, however, demanding attention and playtime). Speaking of Tyra Banks, I got sucked into (rather annoyingly) last night's episode of America's Next Top Model. I'm telling you - these shows are devised by Satan to suck you in and then never let you go. The only really funny moments on the show were the photo shoot, which involved a treadmill and people running from a greenscreen (running in heels is apparently very difficult - I wouldn't know).
This poor twit who refused to cut her hair (she was a total "Miss America" type and actually believed that, with her piss poor attitude and inability to roll with the punches, she would actually become Miss America. Don't think so, luv). She had a pixie type hairdo which was culled from her rather lengthy tresses, but I missed that episode. The little wet kitten was none to pleased with this new haircut and when the people DEMANDED that she cut her hair to Mia-Farrow-a-la-Rosemary's-Baby's style (my favourite horror film, btw) she FLIPPED. So they kicked her off the show. Nice! Frankly, Mia Farrow looked incredible in Rosemary's Baby and the bitch shoulda bit the bullet - all the other 'models' on the show told her, as did her FARKING MOTHER!
There was this other lesbo chick who was involved with another contestant...and guess who the two people on the chopping block were? You guessed it - Lesbiana and her confused 'buddy.' Oh the contrived drama and suspense is KILLING ME! Unfortunately, the producers failed to realize that Lesbiana was WAY better than the blonde Confusium she was involved with, so the cut was obvious. Lameasses.

I managed to also watch Martha Stewart's Apprentice, which I'd been meaning to take a gander at since hearing about it. I hate Donald Trump (call it jealousy, call it petty, call it whatever). The man is a pompous buffoon who isn't NEARLY as good at business as he would have the world believe. Many of his businesses have declared bankruptcy, namely his huge casino. Whatever, who cares. I also hate his god-awful comb-over from HELL that apparently slutty, Eastern-European girls can over look as long as you fill their empty lives with loads and loads of cash and guest spots on The View. Ugh. This is why I hate The Apprentice, because even though Donald isn't in the show a whole lot - the most exciting moments of the show involve him and revolve around his bloated, overly-self-important opinions on things and frankly, I can't be bothered.
Martha, however, was GREAT. I love the concept of the show, just not Donald Trump and I really do actually like Martha Stewart's delivery and on-air personality, so it was quite enjoyable. The douchebags on the show I could do without, though. Holy crap are these people drama queens. I can't believe, either, that there's not a homo among them. What a crock.
One thing of note was the ridiculous "dramatic" ending. The task was designing, building and selling a wedding cake at a bridal convention. One group had a great cake, great concept and a great sales pitch. They won. The other group took the word of a famous (but albeit misguided) cake designer and designed a very narrowly appealing cake. This is fine as long as you can sell it. The sales team BLEW and one woman was nearly assaulting people to look at the cake and pressuring them to buy.
Anyway, fast forward to the board room meeting and the team leader just blurts out that two women who had NOTHING to do with ANYTHING are up for getting the chop. They leave the boardroom and Martha, in another contrived dramatic moment, says, "This isn't right, I don't like this. This was a sales issue."
So they call EVERYONE back in and cut this stupid bitch who made the retardo move of the century by saying cockily that if they didn't win the task, she should be cut.
Martha took it to heart and cut her. NICE.

All in all, a productive evening of crappy television viewing. Don't even get me started on that dumb bitch Katy on Coronation Street.

S.

If I stand in a stadium and say nothing, does anybody hear? Bruce Cockburn missed a golden song-writing opportunity.

The boyfriend was down from Sunday until Tuesday morning. It was a particularly glorious and memorable visit for reasons which will be kept between myself, him and a rather large tub of margarine. The cogs begin to turn...slowly...

We played with Orko (as is becoming habit) ad nauseum. Glancing up at the title of this blog now, I think I'm going to officially change (or add to) Orko's name. He shall henceforth be known as Orko Starfux. I'm also going to write a show for him because you can't let a good name like that go to waste, now can we?


















The Adventures of ORKO STARFUX and the Moon Patrol

...see, it works.


Speaking of Orko and his NEVER-FUCKING-ENDING WOES...I took him to an emergency (well, not really an emergency) visit to the THS vet on Saturday. He has been going through sneezing fits with a runny nose and runny eyes since he came home from The Humane Society*.

One morning I woke up and Orko's right nostril had completely crusted over with an alarming amount of nasal discharge (see: cat snot). I ran to the bathroom and wet a cloth and ran back to clean it off, since I know how much I HATE when my nostrils close up from excessive snot discharge. I cleaned him off and he looked at me like, "Asshole...I was FINE." Whatever.

Another morning I woke up and he was having trouble breathing so I immediately called the vet and they told me to bring him in on the weekend. So I did...after purchasing him a stylish new cat carrier (that I will probably never have reason to use again).

The vet informed me that Orko had ear mites (which I had figured out for myself) and an upper respiratory infection. He treated him for the ear mites, which Orko hated, and then handed me a bag full of meds to administer to Orko daily. It contained:

- some kind of white powder to go into Orko's food
- a clear eye drop to be administered twice a day
- a cloudy eye drop once a day
- liquid antibiotics that I would have to administer orally (FUN!)

The eye drops and the powder are fine. The oral medication, however, causes such wailing screeches from the kitten that it makes me really uncomfortable. I have to wrap the bugger in a towel and hold him with one hand and give him this medicine with the other, while Orko screams like I'm ripping off his legs...it's not pleasant, although he is getting better.

Today, which was the 5th day of taking the medicine, he barely made a noise and was quite happy to sit there. Since I've started squirting it in his cheek, he seems better. The nasal drip is gone, too (for the most part) and his eyes have stopped running. I haven't heard him sneeze in quite a while, either. Crossed fingers.

I do think, however, that the ear mites are back after looking at him scratch his ears this morning. Who knows. I have to bring him back to the vet in 10 days anyway, so he can give him the treatment again. JOY!

Enough of that...anyone watch the Amazing Race last night? HOLY CRAP! I'm loving this new season, although the clearly budget-concious itenerary is getting depressing.

"We're going to...VIRGINIA!!!"

Read a humourous recap on TVgasm.com - the Italian family from New York is HILARIOUS, I have to say.

Also, my friend Glen came over last night for our weekly dose of Coronation Street, Match Game, Amazing Race and cheap white wine with nibbles. Or nipples, as Gene Rayburn would say. I'm seriously considering giving some serious thought to thinking seriously about having a Match Game party and using the Match Game Drinking Game. It would be a load of laughs and drunken debauchery. SWEET.

We managed to watch a bit of Airline - another great show, and this woman was at the counter talking about how her daughter would drop out of college if she didn't get on the flight. It was a new one to me. Here's what really happened...the woman showed up late. Of course, this is the airline's fault in her mind.

To play on the 'sympathy' of the attendant, she came up with this line of logic:

1) She had a meeting in El Paso that she HAD to be at. If she wasn't, her boss would fire her. (Interesting...I've actually NEVER heard of a case of a boss firing their employee because they missed a flight. Even if it WAS true, this is the woman's FAULT, anyway...not the airline's).
2) If she was fired, her daughter would drop out of college.
3) If she was fired and her daughter dropped out of college, she would lose her house.

Who knew it was so cut throat out in El Paso, huh?

The airline offered her a flight to Houston but couldn't guarantee a time of departure to El Paso. They offered a list of car rentals and hotels for her to either stay, or drive to El Paso. The woman wouldn't do it. Huh? That's right.

Here's what really happened - she was deathly afraid of flying and procrastinated at home, mulling over how to get out of this flight. She showed up late as a result and began trying to weasel her way back onto the flight realizing what a douche she was. The when the opportunity was presented to get there, she suddenly found it unacceptable.

So she calls her boss and speaks to his assistant or some shit, who, like ANY LOGICAL PERSON, tells her not to worry, the meeting isn't that important. So she goes, "Oh! Thank GOD" and walks away...

...sans any luggage. Did she really intend to get on a flight? I don't think so.

YOU'VE READ IT! YOU CAN'T UN-READ IT!

My stocks are still entirely unstable, but hey - what else is new, huh? NOTHING. If you look with an electron microscope at the end, you will see the most subtle of upward turns.


*Please RUN and adopt needy animals from the Humane Society. I was VERY cautious about doing it at first but now I realize it was the best thing I've done in my twenties (and that includes leaving school...LOL). I've gained a new, loveable companion and a kitten in need now has a reserved seat on a beautiful wing-back chair, being fed and played with daily, in the greatest hotel a kitten has ever known.

Why do I feel like Bob Barker now?


"Despite my being against the fur industry, I'll SKIN YOU ALIVE...
...as long as no one wears the skin."

-Bob Barker, Futurama





Toodles!

S.