Her Milk Shake Brings all the Boys to the Yard

Kate Moss told me to stop eating carbs and start doing blow - so I did, of course! Then long came Crystal Renn - HaHaHaHa (evil laugh) back to the french fries and full carb beer for me my friends!

My point, is that Renn is hotter than Moss (and also a lot nicer and cooler.)

This is not a good look, what they don't show you is the part where she trips and her shin bone pierces through her skin.

You're gonna to make it after all...(then throw your hat in the air)

I'm such a blog ass kisser! watch: "BRAD! RHIANNA! SAMANTHA! YEAH!!!!"

You know what you guys - yeah it's true, you guys are just great... just darn toot'n... I love you guys... Shit, once I figure out how to put my picture up beside my comments - there will be no stopping me.

Blogosphere: watch out you muthaf&cker - because just like Mary Tyler Moore, Jane Fonda, and Rhoda (who I love! Especially after her and Joe got the divorce) I'm gonna be good, real good. I'm going to be a blog-person. A person that blogs...

I may also end up being very fat... I haven't been to the gym in a week, :)

In the last three weeks I've only been once. When my friends call and ask me if I'd like to go - I lie and say it's too cold for me to think about going anywhere and I have a touch of flu. But, in reality, it's because I'm just so darn eager to head back home and see what's happening on Blogsot. ... man, I'm going to make so many friends here!

MAN IN THE GREEN TRUCK:

This guy Brad, who drives a lovely green truck, is the most supportive blog reader I know (other than Rhianna, who's also very supportive, Samantha too). He even commented on one of my entries; the one about my Grandpa.

I love my Grandpa - because my grandpa is nucking futs. NUCKING FUTS!

Brad, you're nucking futs too! I will never check the picture part of your blog again because I'm afraid there will be pics of your bare ass in the middle of Banff - way to nucking ruin Banff for me, Brad.

The thing about guys who sell beer is: you think you can just sort of put them all into one big lump. You know the guys; those yellow, fake tan, beer rep types who smell of Lynx... And then there's Brad - not once has he offered me cocaine or tried to slip any of my friends a roofie (much to all of our chagrin). He really broke that stereotype for me, he taught me that I shouldn't lump all beer reps into the same ol'lump. That's what Brad has done for me... Now, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE FOR ME LATELY????

SO happy to be blog'n

I'm so happy right now, I've finally entered the blogosphere.

What could be more thrilling? ... don't answer that...

Thus far, Rhianna is the only one who checks my blog. And that's okay, Rhianna, you're all I really need.

Blogs aren't popularity contests. This isn't myspace, it's my own space for me to muse and think.

I emailed Joe and Ben the link to my site as well... maybe they'll read too.

Well, Rhianna, it's time for me to go...

Gotta go, House will be on soon.

My Grandpa is a crazy dude

This is a picture I took of my grandpa at the (now deceased) Lucky Duke pub.

This is grandpa in the back of a moving van doing is "fight'em jig" while yelling "giddy -up, yip, yah! You son's a bitches!"

This is grandpa loading up a truck, and (once again) dancing his "fight'em jig" while screaming "Yip! yah! come on!" at the top of his lungs.

When we get old - we get grumpy and mean

Sometimes when people get old they also get mean.

The same thing is true with dogs. My dog, George, was never exactly a congenial or cuddly fellow, but up until recently he was at least good for a hug or snuggle at the end of the day when he was very tired and ready for napping.

Not so much now. Today, he bit me.

I've had George since I was 12-years-old... I'm now 25. He's very old and has recently developed arthritis in his hind legs as well as a hearing impediment and some eye sight issues. He was angy with me today because I refused to give him a treat (dog biscuit) so he growled at me and bit me when I went to pet him. It was like he was trying to tell me something.

That something, I can only assume, was this:

"Fuck you bitch, I'm old, my legs don't work, I can't see or hear, it's fourty below out and you keep sending me outside to pee, I should have been dead two years ago but you keep me alive for your own selfish reasons, I have to take two pills a day, and, quite frankly, I'm getting sick of this shit. I asked you very nicely for a doggie biscuit and you responded by saying "no, it will spoil your dinner," and offered me a pat on the head instead? Por que, Theresa, pourquoi? I'm like 99-years-old in doggie years here - throw me a fucking bone!"

I still can't believe he bit me, but I think he's also getting a little senile...

I have included photos of me and George during better times. Before he got dementia. Soon I will put him down. If he bites me again, it will be with a sledge hammer.

Spell'n

Disclaimer: This will make no sense unless you know me, or work in the same industry as me, so don't bother reading my crazy rantings unless you do:
The place I work for is trying to get their website up to date with a blogg in place. And thus, they sent out 20 memos asking for employees (writers) to use the blogg.
At this point I'd like to point out that the definition of Blogg on Dictionary.com is: to author an online diary or chronology of thoughts... They also spell it with one G at the end, but I like two (just so one doesn't get lonely).
And so I decided to blogg, but I was told the blogg I was blogging wasn't immediate enough, instead I should be writing as things are happening - as in while I'm walking or experiencing an event. And I'm frustrated at old people running companies, because they don't understand things like technology, or internets or email - yet they keep telling everyone else how to use them... And so now I need to vent: Because I'll I wanted to do was Blogg today about something that happened last night, but the company I work for has decided we're only allowed to blogg about stuff that hasn't happened yet - ie in prep for stories to come... which defeats the purpose of blogging in a lot of ways... as blogging is a little bit before and a little bit now and a little bit after... it's discussion - not advertising.
Here I go:
What the shit! (This is me getting very angry)
When you work for a company, that prints things - like articles for instance - not naming any names as I would like to keep my job... But, what the shit do you do when you work for a company that tells you constantly - you need to blogg on their internal site, so people will "read" so all the young ones will "read."
Oh, the crazy internet! The possibilities! what is all this blogging!
Back to my point: What's a girl to do when the people she works for have started a blogg, a very big blogg linked to about 100 major publications across Canada, and they tell her to "Blogg", "Blogg" they say - So I blogged. But when I go to post the Blogg - the website don't work! there's no link on the main page to the blogg because the company doesn't hire a web-designer, and no one is sure exactly what a blogg is because they're all old.
And they're not exactly sure what their writers should be "writing" about, because blogging is a complete mystery to them, so after sending you ten inter-office emails about the importance of towing the company line and getting on board with the blogging effort - they tell you not to blogg unless that is, you blogg about the write stuff... and the write, ah hem - right stuff, is unknown - because blogging is complicated, especially when you're 145-years-old. TO BLOGG or Not to BLOGG they ask themselves - let's just start a f*&king Blogg so we can say we did and then not actually learn how to use it. No one should write unless it's immediate. or maybe that's retrospect, or maybe in current/now tense... no wait, we don't get it - so get blogging. Except don't because it's way more complicated than it needs to be. Instead let's all just say we did, but don't.
Then they starting explaining that they had originally thought they would use the blogg for words, but now they're thinking of using it for multi-media and music, Then somebody said iPod and smiled knowingly. And I shut up. Because the old guy said iPod, so he must be hip.
Theresa