Monthly Archives: May 2008

none shall be spared.

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6

I’ve been thinking about plagues lately.

I don’t really know where to take this post from there, other than to say NO, I DON’T KNOW WHY and NO, I’M NOT THE ANTICHRIST.

I have a feeling the Antichrist would watch fewer cooking shows and spend less time longing to jump on trampolines and potentially be less good with babies. Though babies would be a good place to start if you were going to take over the whole world. Babies or repub… no, no, I’m SO not going there.

But I digress, as I am wont to do. I am also wont to use the phrase “I digress” too often, but the reality is that I DO DIGRESS WITH SOME FREQUENCY. And use caps. Often. At the WRONG TIMES.

Back to the plagues.

Anyone watching the news is pretty familiar with the gamut of natural disasters and diseases currently available on the face of the earth. When I say currently available, I’m likely making it sound as though people choose them from a large drive-through menu board.

But, no… the reality is that a lot of bad things happen the world over, and suffering is the basis of 90% of what you see on CNN (the remainder being Larry King staring awkwardly at his own suspenders.)

I think if a biblical plague happened today, a boardroomful of producers in Atlanta would probably rejoice in the ratings potential.

I don’t want to hear what Anderson has to say about boils, though. I really don’t.

Or Larry, for that matter. Although I bet he has them. I JUST BET.

I think it’s time for some new calamity.


THINGS THAT RAIN DOWN ON US TODAY WITHOUT MERCY OR RELENT

Reality tv crews
Febreze
Stick-on bras
Chatspeak
Sundried tomatoes
Vegetarian options
Websites about cats
Pundits
Scientologists
“Alternate” tuxedos
Time shares
Skinny jeans
Oprah’s favourite things
Superdelegates
Swarming Gap employees
Juice blends
Spinoff series
Joe Francis
Ring tones
Leg warmers
Words ending in “licious” that were never meant to end in “licious”
Slipcovers
MySpace
Tiny wee dogs
Infomercials
Bloggers (WE ARE LEGION)
Butterfly tattoos
Frappuccinos
“New” country

like possession, conviction is 9/10ths of the blog.

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19

There are many things I believe for which I have no evidence.

Most people would call these things “suppositions” or “notions” “blog posts” or “AS IF, ASSHOLE” or “tell it to my lawyer.”

To them I say, WELL FINE BUT AT LEAST I BELIEVE IN SOMETHING, YOU GODLESS LOCUST-BAITING SIN-LIVING INSTANT-COFFEE-DRINKING COSTCO-SHOPPING MCDONALDS- EATING LEPROUS HAPLESS HOPELESS HERETI…

Ahem.

Or nothing, really.

Because sometimes, as they say, it’s enough that YOU know. No one else needs to.

Do you hear me, Tom Cruise?

I believe mall kiosks are actually holes in the time-space continuum.

I believe those who remember the dances of their youth are doomed to repeat them at weddings.

I believe, while onions will always make you cry, shallots will probably only leave you mildly depressed.

I believe most people would rather that Oprah gave them a car than a book recommendation.

I believe eHarmony is nature’s way of matching up all the really fussy people so the rest of us can get on with it.

I believe chickens have neither fingers nor nuggets… but their wings are like gold.

I believe spilled milk is more of a reason to swear.

I believe bathrooms should not smell like anything you would put on or in a cake.

I believe the amount of time you spend bitching about Christmas decorations in stores is roughly inverse to the amount of fun you are at Christmas parties.

I believe civilization actually began in a Tupperware container left in a warm car.

I believe binding is for contracts and books, not bras or men.

I believe the gift of carnations is a husband’s way of saying, “Today is a good day to build a parade float, Honey.”

I believe that bottled water never forgets being free.

it’s shiny out.

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7

Oh, Vancouver. I love you in the sun.

Even when my apartment is an oven of Dutch proportions, even when butterflies chase me like wobbly assassins around my living room, even when you melt the ice in my latte like a city-sized blow dryer, even when awkwardly shirtless men bellow “HEY, WHAT’S UP?” on street corners, even when I’m blinking like a mole for hours trying to adjust to the magic of it all.

You bring fat, bloomy lilacs, just off the deck. You cause freckles in spades. You make me paint my fingernails this colour, and my toes this colour. You create an appetite for fresh things, crisp things, bright things, lovely things — an optimism and delight that still occurs in the rain, but much more, well… damply so.

The showers will come again soon, I’m sure. But for now?

Bliss.