Sorry, I don’t Skype with the creatively bankrupt. Actually, I was bust playing COD: Black Ops and didn’t get the message. Kyle’s friend pronounced ‘martyrdom’ as ‘metronome’ and I lost my shit.
So Christmas 2010 was pretty awesome, except for Christmas morning which was a bit… weird.
You see, my family (like many) has a tradition where we get up and open presents and do all the Christmasy stuff. And this Christmas was supposed to be like any other, except just as we were gathering around the tree the doorbell rang.
It’s was our neighbour, an old spinster lady from Newfoundland named Elena. She sort of invited herself in and started talking to us. It was really awkward because who the hell decides to just drop in on someone on Christmas morning? No one wanted to ask her to stay, because obviously we had not bought any presents for old spinster lady. And we didn’t want to kick her out because what sort of cold hearted person kicks someone out on Christmas morning?
Plus, she was really offensive. When my teenage brother opened the door, she said “oh I see you’re still full of acne. That’s too bad.” My brother didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, she had an old Newfie remedy for acne, “the next time someone has a newborn baby, let it piss on you. Let it piss on your face. That’ll clear your acne right up.”
LET A NEWBORN BABY PISS ON YOUR FACE TO CLEAR UP YOUR ACNE. Seriously, bitch?
Later, out of nowhere she told my other brother that he should eat his turnips. “Turnips keep you wick lit, if you know what I mean. It’s why Newfies don’t have to take viagra.”
Okay, what?
It was the most awkward thing ever.
Eventually Mom reminded her that she isn’t actually a spinster, and that she had a husband at home.
“Oh, I guess I should visit him at some point” she said, and then started to move towards the door.
We didn’t get rid of her until about two o’clock. It was horrible.
New favourite sex position, the JFK: splatter all over her while she screams and tries to get out of the car.
Found myself in a shopping mall today. It was just as awful as I remembered it being, maybe even a bit more so given that it was packed with humans trying to pick up gifts for Christmas.
I remember waiting for a friend while he tried on some clothes in a store, and looking at ridiculous bedazzled shirts for men (!?) that cost well over one hundred dollars. For a t-shirt. It was awful.
A sales lady came up to me and asked if I needed help with anything, or if I was looking for anything specific. I explained that I was just waiting for my friend in the dressing room, she wandered off but came back over to point out that I might be interested in something which lead me to uncharacteristically tell the truth about my feelings to a total stranger.
“Look, I think fashion is sort of a decadent art. I’m sure you agree, but to me that’s a bad thing, not something to celebrate. As far as I’m concerned, fashion should have died along with the aristocrats during the French Revolution.”
She laughed and said I was funny. I don’t think I was trying to be funny. I waited awkwardly for my friend, then left.
My brother is unintentionally the most hilarious person I know. A few weeks ago he got interviewed by a local newspaper reporter about his upcoming fight in Calgary (he won), part of the interview went like this:
Reporter: so what gives you your motivation, your drive to train every day?
Blake: my drive? Well, [my boxing partner’s] dad usually drives us down to the gym, and my mom usually picks us up.
I chalked it up to just being nervous talking to the reporter, but then today I had the honour of picking him up from boxing. I was listening to CBC radio in the car, and there was a story about how the snow in London has shut down Heathrow and the authorities sent in clowns to entertain kids stuck there.
Kyle: imagine that, being stuck in the world’s largest airport with thousands of other people and all of a sudden there’s clowns everywhere.
Blake: they’re stuck in the airport?
Me: yeah.
Blake: then how did the clowns get in?
We couldn’t stop laughing for five minutes straight, refusing to explain that no one is actually trapped at the airport. Then Blake dropped this gem —
Blake: so what, is there some kind of semi-permeable entrance.
Kyle: yeah, there’s a semi-permeable clown entrance. No one can exit but the clowns can come in.
Lunar eclipse of 1 March, 1504 still holds the record for most badass eclipse, though. Hate to say it, bro. It’s just the way she goes.
“According to David Attenborough, the habit of cannibalism may be advantageous in sustaining the large size of adults, as medium-sized prey on the islands is rare. When the young must approach a kill, they roll around in fecal matter and rest in the intestines of eviscerated animals to deter these hungry adults.”
Talk about a shitty childhood.
Can you imagine if you had to hide in an animal corpse just so that your own parents wouldn’t eat you? No thanks.
File under: another reason to live in Nova Scotia.
Turns out the Maritimes have the cheapest weed on the continent.
Friend: so i’ve been really into The National recently.
Me: You mean, like, with Peter Mansbridge? I love that shit too.
Friend: No… they’re a band.
Me: Oh.
