Bloorp.

A few things have caused me to be a little less than happy lately, but the circumstance leading to this picture is most certainly not one of those things.

If you are familiar with the roads near the town of Penetanguishene, Ontario, the above image may not appear to be as out-of-place as it was to me.

En route to Andrea’s cottage, we passed this unusual setup of faded stuffed animals affixed to various sizes of bicycles in single file.

But this wasn’t the original setup, according to Andrea’s friend Anna. Last time, she said, the stuffed animals were placed behind desks as if in school. (Presumably learning how to ride a bike.)

On the drive home from the cottage, we unanimously voted on stopping by the setup to take photos. Anna gladly played along and snapped one of me running from bears that were no doubt gaining on me.

Of course, “not stopping to take silly pictures and continuing on our merry way” was another option.

But where’s the fun in that?

Spotted at the same store that carries the Almost Batman t-shirt.

There are many great things about this product I’d never buy.

Never mind the fact that it’s “made up of best material!!” but it’s also apparently “The best gift for children.”

I disagree with this erroneous statement and would go so far as to say that it’s the ONLY gift for children.

Am I right?

At first, I couldn’t help but admire the “ugly sweater” charm of my colleague’s suspenders (never mind that I loved he was wearing suspenders in the first place): birds, dogs…guns…?

Admiration was soon replaced by curiosity upon closer inspection.

“Is…is the dog eating that bird?”

Some things just aren’t as they seem.

When you said ‘Warren Buffett,’ I thought you said, ‘warm butt-fucking.’

—

I won’t reveal who said this during lunch at the Whistler Film Festival, but I will give context, even though it could be just as fun and inappropriate to leave it be as I’ve done in the past. (Or the times I probably went into far too much detail.)

A person at my table commented that the chocolate cake for dessert was quite rich, to which someone else piped up, “Rich like Warren Buffett.”

The man on my left looked up for a moment, gave his head a slight shake and said, “…I totally thought you said something else and you really don’t want me to repeat what I thought it was.”

Of course when someone says that, you do want him to repeat it. So he did.  And I thought my hearing was bad…

In discussing my friend Kym’s neverending obsession with New Kids on the Block last night, she recounted the day that her husband Adam (who plays on my softball team) waited by his computer until the very second that he could enter a code online to buy $500 VIP concert tickets, which would grant her backstage access to talk and *gasp* touch her favourite boy band.

She then told us about his experience in picking up the tickets from the box office, at which time he also happened to be getting Nine Inch Nails concert tickets for Kym.

The box office attendant did a double-take when he handed the tickets to Adam, then turned to him and said, “Either you’re fucked up or you have two girlfriends.”

“They’re for my wife,” he replied. “And yes, she’s fucked up.”

…you obviously haven’t met my friend Johanna. I have yet to meet someone whose dreams are as vivid and utterly bizarre as hers. (This also totally beats my Texan friend’s dream.) If any dream analyst types want to take a crack at this one, I’d listen to your theories with great interest.

Johanna: i had a dream you were suddenly with another guy and i was hanging out at some sports park with some short guy that had a thing for you
me: some short guy!
Johanna: and he kept calling you do to see if he could go over to your place. apparently you guys were dating before this “new” guy came into the picture
Johanna: you kept telling Mr. Short that you didn’t think it was a good idea
me: wait, new guy = Mr. Short?
Johanna: no, i never met new guy
me: oh, i was with a new guy, but Mr. Short wanted to come over?
Johanna: Mr. Short and you had just broken up or something and he wasn’t happy about new guy. and kept insisting on going over even though new guy would probably be there.
Johanna: i think Mr. Short was in denial
me: i hope that was his name in the dream
Johanna: i even took the phone from him at one point and you were hysterical. didn’t know what to do about the situation. that you hated what this was doing to Mr. Short.
Johanna: i told you not to worry because i was going to find him a latin girl
me: “i was going to find him a latin girl.”
me: that’s the best dream line i’ve ever heard
Johanna: i told him that after i got off the phone with you and it really cheered him up. he said he wanted one from Panama.
Johanna: so Ms. Panama shows up in a Go Kart and we’re all super excited
me: OMG THERE’S MORE?!?!
Johanna: i decided to leave them alone and went to hang out with my brother and Anthony, who were playing soccer
Johanna: oh yes, there is more

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At Kristin’s cottage a few weekends ago, Anthony was busily chopping away at this unusually shaped hunk of wood. His Butt Revelation motivated him so much that he concentrated only on this for a while, a task that was actually quite mesmerizing to watch—like staring at a finely chiseled ass.

And don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about. Because you know exactly what I’m talking about.

At Kristin’s cottage a few weekends ago, Anthony was busily chopping away at this unusually shaped hunk of wood. His Butt Revelation motivated him so much that he concentrated only on this for a while, a task that was actually quite mesmerizing to watch—like staring at a finely chiseled ass.

And don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about. Because you know exactly what I’m talking about.

brandonnn:

thedrunkenmoogle:

The Dashing Prince (Katamari Damacy Shot)

Ingredients:
(recipe makes 6 shots)
1 oz Blue Curacao
1/2 oz Grenadine
2 oz Vodka
2 oz Midori Melon Liqueur
2 oz Pineapple juice
1 oz Fresh lemon juice
6 Maraschino cherries with stems 

Directions: Mix the Blue Curacao and grenadine and divide into the bottom of 6 shot glasses. Pour vodka, Midori, pineapple juice, and lemon juice in a shaker and shake to combine. Carefully layer the green on top of the purple, and garnish the edge of each shot glass with a maraschino cherry. 

To take the shot remove the cherry from the edge and down it, and then eat the cherry afterwards. The result is a shot that’s sweet, quirky, and even a little fruity that’s best enjoyed with all your friends, just like Katamari Damacy. 

Guaranteed not to roll up your insides once ingested!

(This shot is an ingenious idea and is the work of Mer M.  Thanks for the submission!)

When I get married someday, I hope these will be in abundance at my future bachelorette party—even if the girls in attendance won’t know what the hell they’re drinking.

If on-air news updates were still delivered like this, I may have gone into broadcast journalism instead of print.

The choppy, multiple-frame zooms on the reporters’ faces and pulling the firefighter away from the flaming house for a sound bite are among my favourite parts.

I’d say “don’t blink or you’ll miss it,” but I’m fairly confident you’ll be too mesmerized to tear your gaze away. (Thanks, Fipi Lele!)

Supper of champions! My cousin Mark’s winning second-last plate at the sub-par Starwalk Buffet from this past spring. Most notable is the steak and Jell-O combination. Honourable mentions go to the piece of sushi and what appears to be a slice of crème caramel propping up the steak at a presentable angle.