Top Three: Ice Cream

And finally, to round out the series:

3. Chocolate Mousse Royale®, Baskin Robbins.

2. Mint Chocolate Chip, Baskin Robbins.

**drum roll**

1. That heavenly thing that we got from the Kawartha Dairy that time we visited Little Fingers up at camp, and it came in, like, four mountainous waffle cone scoops, and it was so good, we actually drove the 30 minutes back into town the next morning, not 8 hours later, to get another cone... Oh ma gawd... I think it was this one:

DEATH BY CHOCOLATE: Chocolate ice cream with bittersweet dark chocolate chunks and thick chocolate twister sauce.

Thanks for playing, Gang. We'll see you next time on... LIBRARY LADY'S TOP THREE!


*cue applause*

Top Three: Penny Candy

3. Big Foot

2. Double Bubble

**drum roll**

1. Coke Bottle

Fourth runner up--should number three not be able to fulfill her duties--is the Fuzzy Peach (I sort of overloaded on these one summer when Manrissa was working at the candy factory, and she gave them to me in giant vats. Since then it's been a love/hate relationship with the Fuzzy Peach).

Although the Double Bubble is not technically a candy, but rather a gum piece, I categorize it as such because it can be purchased from the penny candy aisle, comes in bulk in a tub for individual resale, and goes nicely with a Slurpee, which is when I purchase penny candy, for deposit in the cup of the aforementioned Slurpee for freezing and later consumption.

Top Three: Chocolate Bars

3. Skor

2. Crispy Crunch

**drum roll**

1. Crunchie

Mixed in a blizzard or the much preferred TCBY Shiver, however, and the order would be in reverse, with Skor ranking number one. Oh yea. Skor.

Fourth runner up--should number three not be able to fulfill her duties--is the Cadbury Premium Dark.

You?

Air Sickness Bag, Please! And pronto!

I have a problem with this commercial.

*ahem*

As someone who has taken her fair share of flights, the very concept of this add is beyond redonk (let alone the idea of eating something consisting of two patties, fake bacon, mushrooms, and plastic cheese). But I digress. My issues with the commercial are three fold, and I will explain them thus:

1) Male Passenger (MP) begins eating his Wendy's combo before the flight takes off, let alone is fully boarded. This is wrong. MP would have to literally inhale his disgusting mess of a meal before buckling in or be forced to shove his burger, fries, and frosty/medium soda under his seat prior to take of so to ensure the safety of his fellow passengers (because no one wants to be hit with flying meat, or be scalded by swiss cheese sauce in the chance of turbulence). Why wouldn't he wait to eat? Particularly knowing he's in the middle, and will be forced to get up at least once to let sexy window passenger girl through to her seat. As per the theme of the commercial.

2) The opening shot is that of a woman carrying a baby down the aisle. Baby is crying, clearly distressed by the smell of meat and grossness, as set up by the object of the add: the Wendy's Steakhouse Double Melt. Clever advertising people are implying that a crying baby is worse than the consequences--both olfactory and digestive--of a Steakhouse Double Melt. I disagree. And for this argument, I appeal not only to what would later restult for MP in the washrooms at the front and rear of the cabin, but also to my final point.

3) The irony of the commercial is that MP is "sandwiched" in between two pretty girls (Wow. Funny.) The voice over says "Good move Mr. 14B..." as if to insinuate that 14B is going to get "laid" at some point in the flight. This is further implied by pretty window girl dabbing at the side of her mouth in an I'll-lick-that-burger-juice-from-your-face type way.

This is where my experience as a flyer comes in. See, if I sat down next to a guy eating what appeared to be meat in liquid form--grease and fake swiss melting all over his shirt; the smell of processed bacon and onions filling the airplane cavity, not to mention the spilly messy that would coincide with the aforementioned inhaling of the meal--I would be far less than lusty. And don't think that burger smell would fade, either. 'Cause it wouldn't. You just know that sh*t would hang in the air like a fart cloud for the entirety of the flight. I think there's a strong argument that, faced with such a scenario, both women would become physically ill at some point in the flight, if not imediatly upon seeing what they'd be sitting next to for pressumably the next series of hours.

In fact, I'm pretty sure that pretty window lady's dabbing at the side of her mouth is American Sign Language for "you're disgusting, and I'm going to tell the first steward I see you have a bomb in your shoe."

Knights and Ladies

Anyone in for Medieval Times on Wednesday? Trying to get a plan together here...

Some things I think you'll be surprised I don't like, and it's true I really don't like them so stop thinking I do, okay?

Thanks for staying tuned, folks. And now for the second part of our series:

1. Desserts flavoured like lemon.
2. The movie "Dumb or Dumber".
3. Babysitting.
4. U2.
5. Wheel of Fortune.
6. Plain chips.
7. Scrabble.
8. Sport sandals, like THESE.
9. Swimming in lakes where you can't just jump in/climb out, you have to wade in/wade out.
10. Yawning.

Follow up from yesterday: Yes, I've been to Manitoba. I landed in Winnipeg on a stop-over for Deadmonton, and my plane hit a truck parked on the runway. Enough said. While I support other people enjoying Manitoba, I myself will continue to think of it as the provincial equivalent of brown.

Tomorrow I'm in a goth photo shoot. More to come on that for Friday. Needless to say I will be channeling my inner Ash... And now that I'm thinking about Ash, I'm thinking I'm a terrible friend who has forgotten to send her special surprise for being the best movie guess-er... I will "go to the box and feel the shame" now (try naming that movie...) And then I will get on it like a fat kid gets on a Smartie, and I will send your special something. Cross my heart. Forgive me?

Some things I think you'll be surprised I like, but really I do like them so stop thinking I don't like them, okay?

1. Brussels sprouts.
2. Watching golf on TV.
3. Cleaning out my closet.
4. Billy Bob Thorton.
5. Law and Order: Special Victim's Unit.
6. Onion rings.
7. Boggle. Despite my spelling "issues".
8. Getting up early.
9. Manitoba. Bhahah... Okay, that one was a joke.
10. Ice cream headaches.

Stay tuned for tomorrow's "Some things I think you'll be surprised I don't like, and it's true I really I don't like them so stop thinking I do, okay?"

What'dya mean 'hyperlink'?

Today was a really good day:

I slept in. Had some coffee. Watched a little late morning TLC. Visited the driving range with me pops, and practised with a 9 iron. Frequented the Booster Juice. Finished "The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing". Went to Walmart (*ptewy* spits to the side like she's said a bad word) with Fingers. Visited the library and consequently my besty Librarian bud, Rebecca. Loved me some chili for dinner. Rounded things off with some Little People, and a whole lot of Chef Ramsey... And a glass of milk with a Digestive cookie to dunk.

p.s. I heart Wikipedia.

Woo to the Serious, Impossible, Hoo

I very rarely toot my own horn. But this is one such occasion where I'm gonna do some serious rootin' and tootin'. Because Poo and I tewtaly deserve it!

On Saturday, we ran in our first ever 5km race (toot #1) It was back in March, I think, that Poo initially mentioned a 5km race in June... Something about raising money for cancer treatment... And so I made a mental note, but never really thought much of it. We're vair new at this running thing, Poo and I, see. At least I am. I used to boast my motto was "why run when you can lie down?" But certain life situations lit a fire under my @ss, and as such, I had the burning desire to run, and to run far and to run fast. And run I did. On a track, on a treadmill, inside, outside, with a fox, in a box, Sam I am, etc.

A few weeks ago we revisited the decision, and decided that yes, we would participate. And yes, we would do a practice run of the course. And yes, we would go to Lululemon and treat ourselves to stylish new running gear so we at least looked profesh, even if our racing results proved otherwise.

We did none of these things. I ran at night, as per usual, and Poo did her thing. And no fancy gear was purchased, and we actually got lost on the way to the site, because neither one of us had bothered to check the directions.

*ahem*

This is me gearing up for the race. They gave us band-type thingy's to track our times, and you'll note I'm wearing it around my left arm, and not on my ankle (as we later found out was the standard... le sigh) We were most excited by the prospect of our pinny's, which we spent mucho time positioning just so... We then spent all our pre-race time worrying we were crinkling them during our stretches and "how were we going to scrapbook them if they were all crinkled?"

Start time... We gear up, and head to the back of the line, behind the moms pushing two kids in a stroller, and some dude carrying his wee Toto dog. We didn't want to get trampled by the fast-ies who were going to blow right by us...

*Horn blast* and we're off. Avril and "Girlfriend" set a nice pace, and before we know it, we're passing all the aforementioned fast-ies who burned themselves out running the first .5km at top speed up hill. 1km, 2km, 3km, a quick Gatorade break for which there wasn't a ready cup for me even though I was most excited about grabbing one as I went by, like that lady in the multivitamin commercial who grabs the grapes and the baguette... But I digress...

4km... I'm feeling tired and thirsty and whiny, Poo pulls ahead and I'm thinking of slowing to a walk... But the adrenaline kicks in and I surge forward, passing dearest Poo and what she would later describe as "Seabiscuit"--a rather snarly woman who was damned she wasn't gong to let both me AND Poo pass her.

Would you believe it?! We both finished in less than 30 minutes! I know! I can hardly believe it myself! Here's Poo looking pleased as punch post-race. But wait... You haven't even heard the best part... My stats:

• 27th overall (out of 145).



• 11th female overall.



• 3rd female in my age category!

They even called my name and gave me a pin! I almost peed my pants! Poo and I were so puffy about ourselves, thinking we'd done really well by beating our expected 45 minute mark... But to come in 3rd and 5th in our age category?! Holy bananas!!! Totally floored. We were both standing there with our mouths open all, "Um, did this just happen? I think this just happened... Did they just call your name? Ohmagawd they just called my name..."

I'm just so pleased with us and how hard we tried, and how completely unexpected-ly good we both were! Our goal is to next year go back to the same race and run the 10km. But next up is the Dundas Cactus Festival 5km. Not to big, not to small. Woo to the serious, impossible hoo.

Blah.


You tell me somethin'...

A list of things I've eaten so far this week that start with the letter M

Mu shu chicken.
Mustard.
Macadamia nuts (in a cookie).
Melting Dairy Queen blizzard.
Milk, and subsequently cereal.
Moth (accidental, while watching T.V.).
Million pieces of rice.
Miscellaneous food.

Mmmm...

Make fun all ya'll like...

... My new music lub, downloading onto the iPod as we speak:



So now when am I gonna get my homegirls out dancing to this funky beat, hmm? Let's put on some sweat pants and running shoes, push our way past the bone head bouncers into Koi, and show those tartlets workin' their tube tops and hookin' boots what real @ss shakin' looks like, okay?

Because I'm a professional back up dancer now. And I have to hone my craft. Mr. Beef told me so.

Sun Worshiping

It's early evening. I've spent most of the last two days lazing about in the sun--in some way, shape, or form--be it on a beach with palsies, on a patio with a bevo in a onsie, or on my deck with a trashy novel and a sweet tea. It's just now dark on Sunday, and I'm about to change into my summer pjs, lather my newly acquired tan with orange smelling lotion, open my bedroom window for the evening breeze, and crawl into bed to watch Under the Tuscan Sun.

All in all, a vair, vair *big yawn and long stretch* vair good weekend...

Foot Crack, Etc.

The hygenist literally GOUGED out my gums. The gums she said looked really good and nice and shiney and just the right shade of pink... It hurt so much, I could actually feel the blood. Not just taste it, I could feel it. It might as well have been a "folding table and a dirty knife". That sh*t is just wrong.

Also, a wise person once said "kitteh paws are like crack". That was me, actually. But I digress. An even wiser person said "baby feet are like crack" (again, me). Exhibit A:


These are Ethan's feet. After the gum gouging, I was jonesin' for a hit off the ole' foot crack, and so we ended up at Beef's sister in-law's place. Her baby is redonk cute. Exhibit B:


I gots me my fill. Oh yeah. I gots me my fill. I mean, just look at him! He's tewtly making eyes at the camera. Tewtly working those cheeks. And like you can't just imagine the fat legs under that onesie? Hmm, can't ch'a?

I've also decided the word "onesie" is probs my fav word in the English language... Onesie... Onesie, onesie, onesie, onesie...

*sing song voice*

I know someone who sooooo could have used THIS lesson...

Coincidence:

Why do ghosts and ambulances make the same sound?

" WooooOOOOOOooooOOOOOoooOOOOOoooo"

Seriously now... Who thought that up?

Brusha brusha brusha...

I'm off to the dentist on Thursday. Scary bizniz, man. Scary bizniz. Although I lurve having my teeth cleaned by the shiny, smiley hygienist, I fear the dentist and his huge mouth needles and pain drills and screaming whirring machines and claws of death pull-er-out-ers. I'm pretty sure that's the technical name... "Pull-er-out-ers."

To prevent the dentist from using any of the aforementioned machinery in my mouth, I've been maintaining a strict night time and early morning routine: serious circle brushing ("brush your teeth, round and round, up and down, side to side... brush your teeth the round and round way... help fight tartar and tooth decay... brush your teeth"--thank you Toothbrush Family!), flossing, and a swish with the Listerine.

As a result, my mouth is vair vair clean. And vair vair numb.

p.s. I've just heard on the radio that the words "ho" and "muffin top" (as in the fat that spills over the top of a low wasted jean resulting in something resembling a muffin top), have been added to the dictionary...

Oooooooooh...

*hick*

I think I drank'd too moishe last night...

*shuffles away vair vair slowly*

Oooooooooh...

I think it's time we did a big ole' woo to the hoo for Mr. and Mrs. Beef. They've purchased their first snuggle den, and it's safe to say it's as cute as a wee button. I'm pretty sure the previous owner was the gingerbread man, or maybe Mrs. Tiggywinkle, because it's that freakin' cute. See for yourselves (click on the picture for the MLS link):


It's cute enough for kids, that's for sures. Now *cough*... Maybe they'll get to some of that "snugglin" so I can get me to buyin some of them there tiny jeans for a baby I actually have dibs on holding and squishing (as opposed to online mental squishing, that is... You know I love 'ya, Fred.)

Also, I'd like to hit up Medieval Times this summer. And Canada's Wonderland. Who's with me? Hmm? I know Manrissa has a Wonderland trip planned, but alas, I'll be running in a marathon that weekend. Not really, it's more of a run/walk, but I get to wear a pinny, so it's basically the same as a marathon. But I feel the need for both a cookie-wich and food served by a wench.

So *dabs pencil to tongue* who can I recruit?

B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Last night was Gweny-Gwen-Gwen. She was hot. As always. At one point she actually climbed up into the stands and was standing about ten rows from us singing "Cool". Woo to the serious hoo. I kept my arms up frantically singing along (because she told us to), and also 'cause I thought that maybe if I stretched that little bit farther, she'd come and stand next to us, too... *scuffs toe*...

And I'll admit I actually rocked it out to Acorn, or Akon, or whatevs. I smacked that. Yea. Word.