Thursday, October 29, 2009

Hollow Weiners

Oh hey, everyone.

Did you know it's Halloween this weekend?

Riiiiiight. That.

I usually like to have a well-prepared costume weeks in advance.

This year however, I do not.

And so this Shambled Rambler is scrambling for a ramblin' shambled costume.

I need to turn this:

... into something semi-awesome.

But here's the thing - last minute chick costumes usually end up cheesy, skanky, or just plain bad.

Try googling Halloween costumes for women. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Here are a few I found:

Tin Chick.

Right. Instead of Tin MAN. But, by turning him into a woman, you must automatically bring out the tits and get as close as you can to showing the ass and babymaker.

Since most people believe the Tin Man preferred men, I don't know that he'd go for this.


Harry Potter....Girl?

Cuz that's not Hermione. That's Harry Potter as a woman.

Not my thing. I'd definitely Avada Kedavra that one. (That's right, I read all the books. And liked em, too. Wanna fight about it?)

Onward and upward....

Ah. Wonder Woman.

I considered this one, what with the new dark hair and such.

We found an AWESOME vintage Wonder Woman costume from the 70's or something. Gotta love vintage shops. It would have been perfect, but it was too big.

Such is my luck, friends.

And so... on I go, journeying forth to find something to turn me into someone else for a night or two.

But I may just find a masquerade mask

throw 'er on

and be done with it.

Tra la la, folks.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

The Friendly Giant Would Be Proud

I used to be a Floor Fixator.

Assuming no one has any idea what I'm talking about, allow me to explain.

When I was younger, I watched the floor as I walked. I couldn't help it. I found out when I was in highschool that people had different perspectives and ideas about my floor staring.

Some people, before they actually met me, thought that I stared at the floor because I was a bitch and had no need to make eye contact with any of the lowly humans around me.

Others knew that it was because I was just plain scared. In my own eyes, I was the lowly human.

Over the years, I've done my damndest to change that. It's no wonder some people took advantage of me - they could tell my weakness by taking one good look at me. How much self esteem can one person have, when they're too afraid to even look up in a crowd?

I hadn't thought about it too much. Until today.

Walking to work, I passed a woman who was staring at the ground ahead of her as she walked. Because I had noticed, I realized that meant my head was up.

In the past few months especially, I realize that I have made a conscious effort to keep my head up as I walk. It makes a difference.

When I pass the horrible gang dudes that yell disgusting things at me, or homophobic insults at others? My head's up. They can't know that I'm scared of them everyday, because I know what they'll do - I've seen 'em.

When I pass the bitchy predatory girls who automatically hate every other woman in a ten foot radius? My head's up. I look em in the eye, because my fear of them is long over.

Point is, I'm learning. And changing. And maybe becoming more like the tough-shit chick I'm really good at pretending to be.

And now I look up.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Anniversary Of An Uninteresting Event

Two years ago I went on a date.

It was a first date.
He was from Toronto. I lived in St. Catharines.
He drove all the way down to see me.

We didn't know each other that well yet, and first dates always make me nervous. Especially because I wasn't used to dating men so much older than me.

Being the control freak that I am, I offered to drive us around for the night. We met in a Kelsey's parking lot off the highway.

A little strange, a little new.

He had asked me what I wanted to do.
So I made him come to the lake with me and go on the swings.
I am a swing freak.

Any man that will go on swings with me on a first date - with his good shoes and swing-hating ways - is automatically a good catch. least until he tells you about the time he ate a spider. But I learned to look past that.

We then went to a bar, where we managed to procur a hidden corner booth in the basement. Conversation was not a problem. A good sign.
Unbeknownst to me, a couple of my friends were there for drinks and stopped by for a moment.
I got the thumbs up. He passed the test for them.

Having just gotten out of a long-term crazy relationship, I needed more convincing.

Fast-forward two years:

Guess I quickly became convinced.

Add two dogs. One cat. An apartment. Love, stress, friendship, jobs, bickering, smiling, laughter and life. Major ups and major downs.

A partnership.

Happy two years, boy.

Thanks for the dates. You must've been a good kisser.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Hair I Am


I guess no one will sing "Leggy Blonde" to me anymore...

And no one will will tell me I look like these and other random celebrities...


... simply because I'm blonde.

After all the indecision, and the literal YEARS of "to dye it or not to dye it",

I've finally taken the leap.

It may seem small and insignificant to most people. Understandably, as it is just dye.
But for me it's a re-invention, and an opportunity for me to actually do something I've been scared of for so long.

Change is good. And when I look in the mirror, I see something different. I see a chick who isn't going to hide behind her hair and lie down and take the "blonde" assumptions and incorrect ideas that people had of me.

I'm lovin' the dark side.

So be happy, readers and friends.

The bitching and inability to make a decision




Bye bye, bleach. I've moved on.

Friday, October 16, 2009

J-E-L-L- Oh, no you didn't!

Everyone knows the saying "the proof is in the pudding".

And so I must ask:

WHY is the proof in the pudding?

WHAT is it proof of?

And WHO put said proof in the pudding?

Was it Cosby?

I'll bet it was Cosby.

Hey Cosby - next time put your proof somewhere else.

I'ma eat my pudding. And I don't want to accidentally choke on any of your elusive "proof".

Thanks, Doctor Huckstable.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

A Shambled Bathroom PSA

Recently, signs went up in the bathrooms where I work:

Reading them daily makes me think.

Are people not washing their hands anyway, and therefore need to be reminded and threatened with H1N1 before they do?


I made up my own sign:

Look for it in a bathroom near you.

(editors note - Yes. I misspelled genitals. But really, you shouldn't be touching your gentials either.)

Friday, October 9, 2009

White Night

Last weekend I experienced my first Nuit Blanche.

It's pretty much a city-wide art extravaganza, with art installations set up throughout Toronto.

Crazy awesomeness could be a better description.

And so, our favourite Arts & Media Power Couple, Bob & Laura, were our official tour guides and drinking buddies for the evening.

Better late than never, here's my re-cap:

Ready to go!

Three of us looking up at one of the first pieces we came across - I call it "Big Damn Silver Bunny Thing"

Please keep in mind that I had been into the rye prior to and during these shenanigans.

Bob & Laura can out Nuit Blanche any Nuit Blancher. Who else has homemade matching shirts?

No one. That's who.

This is also art.

It's called "One Eyed Mongoloid Hides Behind Man With Facial Hair"

Ok, ok, there's more coming...

Hey, Dave! Who are you?

Dave, if you read this. Email me. I wanna know why YOU get this kinda recognition.

A crazy group of fun-havers.

Another art installation - garbage bags. Laura is nicely asking you to pick up your trash.

Give a larbage.

Throw out your garbage.

This picture is my favourite.

To me, it looks like Craig is suggesting things to Laura that Bob is not impressed with.

We didn't. Whoooops.

What's in the coke bottle?

Couldn't be rye. Just couldn't be.

Ant thing at the Cameron House. These things crawled up the walls.

At least, as far as I can remember. Oh, the foggy brain I have...

I pose in front on an old car because my boyfriend asked me to.

Mama does what Mama's told.


Lit up pylons!

What's better than pylons?


So... I really like pylons.

On our way home, Craig and I passed this.

I'm realizing now how much my pictures fail to explain our night. Did I mention there was rye involved?

The hordes of people romaing the street was unbelievable. After mapping our walk, we now know that we walked 10km across the city.

This is how you a) expand you horizons artistically b) spend time with friends c) get hours of cardio and d) do it all drunkenly.

The. End.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Kristen View

Everyone is going nuts about Google Street View today.

So I checked it out.

Searched my house. Searched my work. Searched the way home from work.

And look what couple I found pictured on said Street View.


I've always wanted to be a blurred face on a public website.

Thank you Google for making a little girl's dream a reality!

Friday, October 2, 2009

A Three Hour Tour

We recently held a work party aboard a boat. Looking back I realize that the boat cruise was, in fact, a three-hour tour.

How very Gilligan of us.

This calls for another Shambled How-To.

Shall we??

How To Re-Make Gilligan's Island Without The "Stranded" Part:

1. Before boarding the vessel, meet with fellow cruise goers at a safe house to ensure rules of boat safety are explained and memorized. Then drink mimosas and take pictures.

2. Travel to location of docked boat by limo, so that the stress of city driving does not impair one's judgement and cause them to later become confused and throw themselves off of said boat.

Besides - men this pretty should travel everywhere in style.

3. Board boat. Receive drink tickets. Use one or more ticket. Socialize. Repeat.

4. When the buffet lunch becomes available, be sure to eat more than you think you can fit, just in case you DO become stranded on an island and a fatassed skipper decides to take all the rations you may have brought.

5. The guy with the hat is always in charge. And he always has a hot lady beside him, who can take the place of Mary Anne and Ginger. Also remember - he who wears the captain's hat is probably the captain. This means he is in charge of drink tickets. Make friends with the captain.

6. If you've mistakenly forgotten your neck protection, borrow someone else's. Even if it is fuchsia and looks better on him than you.

7. Take picture inventory of all who board the ship, and later do a head count. If another woman kisses you while picture is being taken, it does not count as one head due to attachment. It's still two people.

8. Lastly, and most importantly, REMEMBER TO GET OFF THE BOAT WHEN IT DOCKS. I cannot stress this enough. Otherwise, who knows where you will end up. And sometimes, when you get off that boat, there's a limo waiting to take you to another location full of beer and wondrous things.

So screw you, Gilligan. This is where you went wrong.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...