Symphony to the Ears


I would like to thank that young man sitting next to me on the bus today for the wonderful “music” I was forced to listen to.  It was such a nice experience.  I mean, first of all, I LOVE taking the bus.  In addition to the various types of body odors that tickle my olfactory senses, the large backpacks that knock me over, I love hearing the music all the young kids are raving about nowadays.  It makes me feel connected to the little gremlins.

There’s no way I would even think for a moment how that was the furthest from my type of music. I love hearing F-bombs and the way women are perceived as sluts.  Their grasp of the English language is just so astounding. Surely their knowledge of linguistics is far beyond my own and that’s why I can’t understand what they’re saying.

There’s no way, young man, you should have known how tired I was. I wasn’t going to nap on the bus, that would be silly, and why would I enjoy the peacefulness, the quiet, the soft hum of voices around me. It wasn’t like I had anything to think about. I wasn’t trying to schedule my day or anything.

So dear, young man, thank you once again for allowing me to listen to your “music” for a whole half an hour.

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Dog Eat Dog World


Sometimes I wonder…okay, always I wonder what my dog is thinking when she looks at me.  She usually catches me in a compromisable situation, like on the toilet, where she will sit there and grunt.  I know she doesn’t know what I’m doing. At least I like to think she doesn’t but I always feel awkward when she sits in front of me and begs to jump on my lap. Now is not the time. Please go away.

We shouldn’t feel ashamed when our dogs watch us go to the bathroom.  I mean, we do it too. We stand there holding the leash waiting for them to finish.  Meanwhile, we’re getting the baggy ready and doing the most disgusting thing on earth…we are picking up their poop.

I used to think thousands of years ago we had successfully trained dogs to be our loyal companion.  Our protector. Our best friend. But how strange is it to think that dogs have maybe trained us?  We feed them regularly sometimes better than we feed ourselves. They have access to clean drinking water on a daily basis. We exercise them but it’s not really exercise in their eyes, it’s fun time.  We groom them. We pet them. We give them a warm place to live. Who’s really benefiting from that situation?

I’m looking at my dogs right now. What are they doing? Sleeping. They’re curled up in their respective sleeping spots, dreaming of squirrels and bones while I do everything else. I have to cook dinner. I have to clean the house. I decided I want to be a dog.

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Gwyneth, The Working Mom?


Gwyneth Paltrow has a big mouth.  If you haven’t read the article in the link I provided above I’ll give you a minute to do that now because you’ll have to have some background information before reading this post.

Have you read it? Good.  I’ll continue.

I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt by saying she meant well.  She was trying to compare her work to those “normal” people who have that dream ‘9-5’ job.  Here’s what she says, “When you’re shooting a movie, they’re like, ‘We need you to go to Wisconsin for two weeks,’ and then you work 14 hours a day and that part of it is very difficult. I think to have a regular job and be a mom is not as, of course there are challenges, but it’s not like being on set.”  No because as we all know, waiting around on set is nothing like waiting for your boss to finish that proposal so you can go home and pick up your kid before the daycare starts calling your emergency contacts.

Here’s another quote: “I think it’s different when you have an office job, because it’s routine and, you know, you can do all the stuff in the morning and then you come home in the evening. 

I worked in an office for a non-profit company a while back and I remember working very hard to get my work done in the morning because I wanted the afternoon to nap.  As we all know, things never work out that way.  I ended up getting what I needed done but then I was given a surprise right before lunch that kept me at work for an extra half hour.  I missed my lunch and I never was able to finish my coffee.

The best reaction was the letter Mackenzie Dawson wrote at the end of the article about how “wonderful” Gwyn’s comments were.  If you didn’t make it that far down in the article I’ll give you a minute to go back and read it.  It’s quite funny. Finished? Let’s move on.

While us “average” people will never know what it’s like to work on a movie set, earning millions of dollars for those 14 hours a day, Miss Paltrow also doesn’t know what it’s like to have a 9-5 job with a child at home.  She doesn’t know what it’s like to call in sick to work because your kid is sick and knowing you’re not going to get paid that day so you have to adjust your budget to reflect that fact.  She doesn’t know what it’s like to have to work two jobs because you’re a single parent and you have to pay for some stranger to take care of your kid.  Not a nanny, no you can’t afford one of those.  You pay for a daycare in the shady part of town.  You don’t take holidays because you can’t afford to.  You get home from your job and you struggle with dinner because you are so exhausted from trying to not get fired at your job.

She has no idea what it’s like to wonder if you can make the rent that month, or the mortgage.  You wonder how long you can survive on minimum wage.

So Gwyn, next time you want to compare yourself to the working mom, do us all a favour and just shut up.



I made myself a drink today…before noon because I can and because it’s Friday.  It’s not the first time I’ve had a drink before noon and it probably won’t be the last.  Sometimes it’s just called for.

I don’t see a problem with people starting to drink at earlier hours in the morning providing it doesn’t interfere with their lives.  if you’re not working, you have the luxury of drinking when you want. If you’re an adult, you have the luxury of drinking when you want. What I don’t agree with is the principle that minors think they can follow the same rules as adults when it comes to drinking.

First of all, if you can’t legally buy it, you can’t legally consume it. That includes alcohol, cigarettes, and fireworks,  While fireworks should not be consumed, it might be useful if we sort of ignored that fact.  We could weed out a lot of intelligently deficient people.

There are a whole list of problems that come with kids drinking when they’re still kids.  They’re stupid enough sober so let’s make them more stupid when they’re drunk. You know that problem with teen pregnancy? Ask those girls how they got pregnant and I’m sure the majority of the stories will start with, “I was at a party and got drunk….”

Let’s also remember that kids have no idea what the consequences of drinking are.  Ask them.  I’m sure you won’t hear words like “Well, the chances of me developing alcoholism go up ten fold. I become dependent on a substance that I think will numb my feelings. I become a slave to this depressant. I will pee myself at least once. I will call ex-girl/boyfriends and will look like an idiot on social networking sites like Facebook.  When I get my first job I will refuse to work Friday and Saturday nights because I will prefer to go party than to actually develop skills that will help me when I obtain a career.”

They will also think it’s not a big deal because everyone drinks.

While I don’t know what the exact statistics are, I am sure they are not at 100%  There are kids out there who do not drink, do not do drugs, and do not randomly select a specimen to have sex with.  They get a girl pregnant/get pregnant and we go right back to why kids should not drink.

If you’re a teenager reading this and thinking to yourself, damn this person is an idiot.  Well, think again because my frontal lobe has fully developed and my brain has finished growing so I am smarter than you.  Drinking and drugs cause damage to an undeveloped frontal lobe.  Google it and find out for yourself.  You might actually help yourself if you don’t rely on someone else to do the work for you. Once that frontal lobe has been damage, it won’t fix itself. You will be mentally stuck it whatever age you were when it was damaged.  Smoked pot at 14? Your brain will forever be 14. Get it? Good.

So kids, the moral of the story is stay away from drinking. If you can’t wait until you are legal age to start then you shouldn’t be allowed to drink ever.

Germ Factory


I couldn’t tell if it was allergies or a cold but considering the amount of time I spent in the Germ Factory I was sure I contracted the Bubonic Plague.

I had been sneezed on, coughed on, spit on, and pooped on by a tiny little, microbe infested human.  Sure, she had been put in my care, I was responsible for her from the hours of 7 until 4 but I had not signed up for bacteria.

The tissues had been used up in the last Germ Factory Epidemic.  We burned through three boxes and four rolls of toilet paper.  I was told the toilet paper wasn’t as cushioning soft as I thought it was so each wipe felt like sandpaper.  My nose turned into a red, dried out organ that ceased to function as it was meant to.

My throat hurt and I felt my body slowly shutting down, laughing at me because I thought it was just allergies.  I spent the entire day telling myself I needed to rest but knowing the dishes weren’t going to wash themselves, the dust needed to be wiped from every flat surface, the dogs needed to go outside at some point, and dinner needed to be made.

Lucky for me my evening schedule was clear and I could rest.  Right?  Right?

Despite everyone being home, I still had to do the dinner dishes, clean up after a meal that was supposed to be quick and painless, the dogs still needed to go out at some point, and the sheets needed to be put on the bed.

Oh the night, my sanctuary, my safety. Crawling into bed was going to be the end of this torture.  I had taken all the cold medications I was legally allowed to take.  My body was slowly shutting down into it’s restful and peaceful state where it was magically able to heal itself.

I was only able to breathe through one nostril. I turned several times clearing each side hoping I was able to fall asleep before I noticed the nostril blocking again.

It was never meant to work that way.  I don’t know what time I went to bed but I remember the sun creeping back up.  One day I know I will be free of the Germ Factory and it will feel so nice.

Hump Day. Really?


Do you ever get the feeling that your Wednesday feels a lot like a Monday?

Mondays are bad enough. You wake up feeling more tired than usual because you spent the weekend maybe drinking or staying up later than your eight o’clock bedtime.  Coffee is your best friend and you swear it would be easier to inject the caffeine right into your veins. Everyone is cranky on Mondays because, like you, they had a couple nights of staying up past their bedtime so they’re a little cranky. Nothing seems to work out.

On Tuesday you’re just relieved it’s not Monday.

Wednesday comes and you realize you’re only halfway through the week. You still have Thursday and Friday to get through before you can sleep in on Saturday.

But do you really sleep in on Saturday? No because you’re wired from all the coffee you drank all week and you’re stressed because the kids are home and while you really do love them, they start to get cabin fever and drive you crazy because it’s winter and it’s too cold to be outside.

Take a breath, sit down, have a drink or two because you still have Sunday. Sunday could be a good day except for the fact that you have to go to bed early because Monday is coming faster than you want it to. Now you get to start the week all over again.

Extra! Extra! Homosexual Now Offensive


New York Times writer, Jeremy W. Peters wrote a piece titled: The Decline and Fall of the ‘H’ Word, meant to explain that the word, homosexual is now taboo. We’re not allowed to use it anymore because as George Chauncy, a Yale Professor of history who studies gay and lesbian culture, has said, “Homosexual has the ring of ‘colored’ now, in the way your grandmother might have used that term…”


My grandmother used a lot of “colorful words” to describe the African-Canadian family that lived next door.  One of the words she used starts with N.  Now that is a word that’s offensive.  If my grandmother called me a homosexual I wouldn’t have a problem with it. The problem with the ‘N’ word, or the word ‘colored’ is they have always been plain old racist.  The word homosexual is actually scientific.  It means SAME SEX.  It means two boys or two girls get together.

I have a problem with glaad (The Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) putting “homosexual” on their offensive list.  I like glaad. I’m a supporter, member, I like what they do, blah, blah, blah. But are they really speaking for all homosexuals…er I mean, gays when they say homosexual is offensive? I like the word. It’s fun to say. It’s like heterosexual but that’s not offensive, is it? Is there a group that also deems heterosexual as offensive?

What I’m gathering from this article is the main reasons why homosexual is offensive is because:
1. The word homosexual has the word SEX in it (OMG!). “Gay doesn’t use the word sex. Lesbian doesn’t use the word sex. Homosexual does.” -George P Lakoff, professor of Cognitive Science at the University of California, Berkeley.
2. It also contains the word ‘homo’ which is derogatory. Just like HOMOsapien so watch out.
3. And as I’ve stated above, glaad says it’s a naughty word so we’re not allowed to use it anymore.

If we are going to be banishing the word homosexual, we have to also ban the word homosapien, heterosexual, and any animal that partakes in homosexual activities in the wild will now be referred to as gay or lesbian sex.

Interesting post? Follow me on Twitter: @burnthecanuck for the latest updates.

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They Got Me, Timmie


As a typical Canadian I enjoy my Tim Horton’s coffee. I also like their doughnuts, bagels, and those cute little cookies they sometimes have. Recently Timmie’s relaunched their Roll Up The Rim promotion where you order a hot beverage in one of those litter encouraging cups, roll up the rim where hopefully you haven’t been drinking from (rolling up a soggy rim takes more effort than launching a space shuttle into space), and hoping…just hoping that you win the car. Maybe you’ll win big money and take that vacation you’ve been wanting.  Most of the time it’s just a coffee or a doughnut.  More often than that the cup politely reminds you to play again.

Today I got a free coffee. I was elated. Don’t ask me why but I was overly excited to be getting a free coffee. Maybe it’s the ingrained love of Tim Horton’s that I have. They showed their appreciation for me by giving me something for free. Maybe it’s that conception we have that anything we get for free is exciting. I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation for this. We all like free things. “Free pen?” “Sweet…”

Now, I hope more for the free coffee than the $5000 they’re trying to give away. I wouldn’t know what to do with a lot of money and would probably end up spending it on useless things. Coffee though, I know exactly what I’d do with that.

Thank you Tim Horton’s for keeping my standards low and not making me depressed when I lose the big items.