Is Someone Chewing On My Pancreas?

Call me neurotic, but I am pretty particular about my skin holes. By skin holes, I am referring to cuts, lacerations, and punctures–pretty much anything that leaves my innards exposed. As people commissioned to protect said innards, I expect health care professionals to be equally, if not more, attentive to safe medical practices than I am.

Enter sloppy nurse. We’ll call her Nursey McSlopperson. If anyone out there actually has the surname “McSlopperson,” I apologize and add that any likeness to any member of the McSlopperson clan is purely coincidental. Then again, if your name is actually McSlopperson, you should really consider changing it–particularly if you are planning on entering the medical profession.

At first glance, Nurse McSlopperson is anything but scary. But don’t let her Spongebob scrubs fool you.

spongebob evil

Sponges are harbingers of all sorts of nasty bacteria. Spongebob is a walking cesspool of filth.

I regularly get allergy shots at Mrs. McSlopperson’s place of business–we’ll call it The Doctor’s Office That Employs Nurse McSlopperson. There are other nurses here too. They are not sloppy. They wear Snoopy and Mickey Mouse scrubs. They are harmless and nice. Unfortunately, I seem to get Sloppy Nurse more often than not.

Why is she sloppy? I don’t know. Maybe her mom, Mother McSlopperson, never taught her basic hygiene. Maybe her mother was also a sloppy nurse. Oh, you meant “why do I think she is sloppy?” Here’s why. When you get a needle, it leaves a perfect little hole–an entrance into the inner workings of your body. A sterile band-aid is needed to close that point-of-entry and protect your guts from foreign invaders. “Sterile” is the operative word.

Nurse McSlopperson, however, peels the band-aid open and sticks it on herself, gives me the needle, and peels the band-aid off her own skin and applies it to mine. This, in my opinion, is disgusting. Who knows what strange microbes lurk on her epidermis. She could be harboring a flesh-eating fugitive. She may not have washed her hands after using the washroom. A dog may have licked her hand after licking his balls. She may have just finished giving a woman with chlamydia a PAP smear. Anything is possible. And everything goes through my mind.



I can almost feel the dude with the cowboy boots sidling through my blood stream.

The most troubling problem is that I cannot wash my innards. Whatever toxic slurry traveled from her skins cells into my needle hole are now gnawing their way through my bloodstream, digging their dirty fingernails across my organs, and pooping on my cells. No amount of Purell can fix that. I’m not going to sleep tonight. I sort of feel like this…


Do you think this is a sloppy nurse or am I just being my overly neurotic self? 


Photo Credits:

Evil Spongebob: BanVotesGames // BVG

Germ hand:


I Got Hit in the Head By a Drone Just Before the Rubber Car Struck Me

Driverless cars disturb me. Sure, I love my car. His name is Wally and he faithfully waits for me wherever I go. But, it doesn’t mean I want to entrust him to get me home safely without my help.

After all, in Back to the Future, Doc Brown piloted his time-travelling DeLorean, in Harry Potter, Weasley’s flying Ford had someone at the steering wheel, and the speeder bikes of Star Wars still required drivers . Even the Jetson’s flying cars had animated characters at the helm. Why then, is actual technology striving to make the human component of driving redundant?


See? No driverless cars in the Jetson’s version of the future. 

I like driving. Lots of people like driving. Why, then, are companies seeking to take away our fun? I would much rather see them developing flying cars. Now that would be fun. And it would take hours off a weekly commute.

If safety is an issue, I think we should steal an idea from TV’s Ray Barone and look into the manufacturing of cars made of Nerf. Even if they are sluggish when wet.


Now this is where technology should be headed. Cars made of high density foam. 

In 2016, a self-driving Tesla struck a transport truck, apparently failing to detect the broad expanse of white against a sunny sky. This is not good. A lot of things are white. Buildings. Other vehicles. The Staypuft marshmallow man. A large gathering of brides. A Trump supporters’ rally. These are almost all things for which a vehicle should stop.

Let’s look at drones as an example. They are, after all, miniature driverless vehicles. If humans can’t master the art of making drones foolproof, surely we should abandon the idea of placing their large and deadly counterparts on our highways.

1. Hollywood paints pizza delivery drivers as pimply faced, heavy metal playing, menaces-to-mailboxes-and-lawn-ornaments. Surely, even the worst of these is better than a drone. Particularly, since they have been known to fall from the sky, which would seriously shift your pizza toppings.

In fact, drones have hit Seattle’s Space Needle, driven into an office building and thwacked a worker in the head, been attacked by a branch-wielding chimpanzee, and they have come close to hitting several commercial airplanes and helicopters. Quite frankly, the people in Quebec are better drivers.

And, ironically, during the first-ever Great Bull Run in Virginia, the carnage was not caused by a horned boy-cow. Instead, several spectators were wounded by a rogue drone that crashed into the audience.

Image result for bull cartoon

I hear the bull was looking specifically for this guy.

2. While pondering roadways filled with nerf, I began to reminisce about my childhood. One of my all-time favourite toys was the nerf ball. I’m not talking about today’s jazzed-up, built for wind-resistance variety. I’m referring to the simple round blob of foam that was, seemingly, designed solely for the use of lobbing it at people’s foreheads. Prior to the nerf ball’s conception I’m sure there were a lot of ball-to-head related injuries. Mainly because the name softball is exceedingly deceptive. Softballs are not soft and bouncing one off your brother’s forehead could lead to permanent brain damage. A nerf ball to the cranium, however, is the equivalent of a cotton ball to the face. No blood or hospital visits required.

Ironically, this simple toy catches a hefty price on the marketplace. Right this moment, there are several for sale for about $60 + $40 shipping. Yes, $100 for a round piece of foam.

Don’t remember the original Nerf ball? Here’s a video clip…


3. Interestingly, there exists some hot and heavy debate on the internet regarding the case for introducing rubber cars. The proponents joyfully exclaim that loud crashes would be replaced by “boings,” dents would simply sproing back into shape, and upon impact, passengers would merely bounce around within their rubber cabins. Bumper-to-bumper traffic would be fun–like a game of full-sized bumper cars.

The opponents adeptly point out that rubber is, indeed, a very heavy material, making cars sluggish. Rubber would also melt due to engine heat–which, now that I come to think of it, would lead to melted rubber injuries. They also remind us that, even in a rubber car, a head-on collision is likely to lead to fatalities as the passengers would be endlessly thrown about the insides of their bouncy car.

What is your take on the rubber car? Yeah or Nay? What about cars made of Nerf?


Image credits:

The Jetsons:


Angry bull:

It “Distracted” My Driving…

This one has been kicking around as a draft for awhile, so I thought I’d release it out into the world….

Vomit is slippery.

This is one of those statements that I accepted as truth despite never having actually measured the viscosity of vomit. Nor have I ever had the opportunity to use alliteration to describe the contents of my stomach. Until now.

I, unfortunately, can attest to the fact that vomit is, indeed, slippery. And not at all pleasant to the touch.

You see, it’s allergy season. (Right now you’re probably saying “Allergy season? It’s not spring, you idiot.) Every season is allergy season for me, but the fall with its decaying leaves, moldy earth, and other rotting detritus wreaks havoc on my faulty immune system and fills my lungs up with snot.

Here’s a song about snot…

I suppose that by now you are wondering how my snotty lungs led to slippery vomit. My body doesn’t actually like having items other than air in its lung compartments and, in an effort to rid itself of the unwanted mucus, it decided to send me into a fit of violent coughs. Now these coughs sort of start at my toes and gather strength as they move upwards.

And I had a full stomach as I had just finished eating lunch.

And, did I mention that I was in my car on my way to work?

Yes, my clothes were neatly pressed. My name tag firmly in place, to the left, by my heart. And I had sandals on. This is important to note.

This particular cough started somewhere around my kneecaps. It picked up steam as it made its way upwards to my “guttal” region, stirring up my egg salad sandwich and chai latte. From there it escaped my mouth as an ear-piercing bark coupled with a gurgling and spewing sound. The gurgling and spewing noises were, as I quickly discovered, the by-product of a former sandwich exiting my throat at warp speed.


I “ugly cry.” I wonder if I also “ugly barf.”

When I opened my eyes (I believe it is dangerous to barf with one’s eyes open lest they are blown out of the eye socket altogether), I was shocked to see that my steering wheel was plastered in slimy egg salad stalactites and the sheen of bile. Bear in mind that I was still in the flow of traffic and that gripping a stomach juice-smeared steering wheel is like trying to grip another person’s tongue with your bare fingers.

Turning my steering wheel was out of the question. Thankfully, work lay straight ahead.

Somewhere underneath the self-loathing and disgust caused by the fact that my hands were mired in my own puke, there lurked a glimmer of pride. I had managed to keep my clothing and my car seat vomit-free. The only victim appeared to be my steering wheel. Surely, such accurate aim was worthy of praise–or, perhaps, even a celebration.

Image result for steering wheel face

Look at how happy this steering wheel is. It has, likely, never been barfed on.

I pulled into the parking lot and began rifling through the glove compartment for a kleenex, a paper towel, hell, a well-used snot rag would do. Thankfully, a Wendy’s napkin presented itself and I was able to return my steering wheel to its former dry, vomit-free and respectable self. I had made it to work. No one need ever know that I had just puked in my car. Unless, of course, I decided to broadcast the fact. In my blog.

Unfortunately, when I placed my foot on the ground, it made a squishing sound. My sandals were laden in barf and I had thoroughly soiled my only napkin. I had no choice. Me and my putrid pukey feet would have to trudge into work as is. We would have some explaining to do.

What is the grossest funny thing that has happened to you? It’s okay to share. You are among friends. 





I Get Interviewed!!! Yay Me!

I recently had the pleasure of being interviewed by my buddy and author, S.J. Lomas. She is fabulously funny and clever and keeps me in stitches on Twitter (@SJLomasAuthor).

So, without further ado, here is my very first attempt at being the subject of an interview.


The Top 10 Bunnies in Need of Professional Help

The bunny rabbit is probably one of nature’s gentlest creatures—from the tip of its twitching nose to the end of its puffy cottontail, everything about a bunny screams out “hug me.”  Even the name “bunny” is sweet—hence its pairing with the words “honey” and “snuggle.”  Heck, the rabbit is even too gentle to eat other animals—preferring, instead, to nibble demurely on tender greens.

Yes, in the animal kingdom, the bunny rabbit is a seemingly well-adjusted pacifist who is comfortable in his own fur.  But every once in awhile, we come across a troubled specimen—a rabbit that is simply unable to adhere to his society’s expectation of what a rabbit should be.  Here is a list of some of our favourite non-traditional hares, the ones we’ll refer to as “bunnies with issues.”


  1. White Rabbit

Despite his impeccable grooming and formal attire, Alice in Wonderland’s White Rabbit demonstrates an intense preoccupation with time and punctuality.  He appears to suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and an unhealthy attachment to his clock.

He also exercises negligence—bordering on the criminal sort—by luring unsuspecting females into his hole, showing little regard for their mental and physical safety.  This fastidious clock-watcher and abductor is, indeed, a bunny with serious issues.

  1. Cadbury Bunny

The Cadbury Bunny does provide a greatly appreciated service to the human population, but he does so at great expense to his psychological well-being.  He is a rabbit who believes that he is a chicken.  As a result, he can no longer communicate with his fellow bunnies—preferring, instead, to cluck.

His alter ego is so strong that he has actually undergone severe physiological changes—changes so horrific that he is now able to lay eggs.  Even more disturbing, these eggs appear to be covered in shiny foil.  This delusional bunny may, in fact, require institutionalization before his rabbit qualities are lost forever—but, for now, he simply remains one of the world’s most troubled bunnies.

  1. The Energizer Bunny

The Energizer Bunny may appear to have his act together.  He has held a steady job for several years, he believes in protecting his eyes from the sun’s harmful rays, and he plays a musical instrument.  But beneath his seemingly polished appearance lurks a raving workaholic—willing to sacrifice life and limb for the sake of his career.

His dedication and reliability may have earned him a stellar reputation among Hollywood’s movers and shakers, but it has also left him with no time for friends or family.  Like a chocolate Easter bunny, he is a shell of a rabbit with only his career to keep him alive.

His job has also put him in harm’s way on several occasions including encounters with Darth Vader, Dracula, Wile E Coyote, and King Kong.  He has even endured an alien abduction where he underwent God-only-knows what types of unspeakable torture.

Whether the root of his troubles stem from schoolyard teasing about his baby pink fur or from being launched into a life of fame at an early age, the fact remains—he is one twisted little bunny with a whack of issues.      

  1. The Open Season Rabbits

Admittedly, rabbits are not exactly the Vin Diesel’s of the animal kingdom—nor do we expect them to be.  They abhor violence and are rarely the aggressors in forest melees.  But that is not to say that they suffer from low self-esteem or that they willingly assume the role of a doormat—or a bunny fur rug.  They do not voluntarily surrender carrots to their foes.  And they certainly would not willingly give you their foot—good luck or not.

This is why the bunnies of Open Season are so disturbing.  A psychologically healthy bunny would not let you catch him in the first place, but if he was having a slow day and you did happen to snatch him up—he would not passively allow you to fling him at a window.  And he would surely not stand idly by and wait for you to do it again.  These bunnies are obviously in need of therapy to cope with their many issues.  And they may also require CT scans.

  1. The Nestle Quik Bunny

The Nestle Quik Bunny is, perhaps, the most poignant example of a rabbit suffering from the effects of substance abuse.  This short brown fellow with the pink button nose will sacrifice all of his hopes and dreams—achieving the high score in his favourite video game, mastering the art of ping-pong, and reading great masterpieces—to acquire his next hit of this rich and thick chocolate beverage.  Armed with a straw and a spoon, this addicted little fellow has been known to lapse into prolonged periods of depression if denied his drug of choice.  It is his addictive personality that has earned him a spot on this Top 10.

  1. Harvey

Harvey, the six-foot tall and invisible rabbit, likely suffered a great deal of taunting as a young bunny.  But the havoc he unleashed on poor Elwood P. Dowd’s life was unthinkable.  Revealing himself only to Mr. Dowd, Harvey became the lonely man’s best friend and confidante—all the while guarding his own identity in a CIA-like fashion that even the Snuffleupagus would envy.  And poor Mr. Dowd quickly became the town laughing stalk.

A sane bunny would have revealed himself and eased his human companion’s pain.  Harvey Rabbit may have been the victim of a painful childhood or, perhaps, he suffered from an extreme personality disorder.  Either way, Harvey’s lack of transparency—that, ironically, was caused by an excess of transparency—makes him a bunny with major issues.

  1. Hoodwinked’s Boingo

As a master con artist, Boingo Bunny, has cleverly duped his fellow woodland creatures into believing that he is something he is not—a a mild-manner lagomorph who wouldn’t hurt a soul.  This false persona enables him to get his filthy little paws—no, really, they’re filthy–on many a stolen confectionary.  Of course, his furry white brows, rusty brown belly, and penchant for carrot crumpets make him an endearing little fellow, aiding his evil plans.

Perhaps, Boingo’s problems manifested after losing his coveted job working for the Muffin Man.  Or maybe he was dropped on his head several times as an infant.  Whatever the cause, Boingo obviously suffers from some deep-seeded psychological issues that have led him to abandon his good nature and choose, instead, a life of malicious crime.  Indeed, Boingo is a bunny who suffers from serious mental problems.

  1. Wallace & Gromit’s Were-Rabbit

Wallace’s alter ego, the Were-Rabbit, demonstrates why God made rabbits small.  Much of a bunny’s image as a docile, gentle creature can be attributed to its meagre size.  If you enlarge even the sanest of rabbits to the size of the Volkswagen that bears their name, the result will be anything but demure.  Bunny hops will become earth shattering.  And a ravenous monster rabbit or “were-hare”—now I know why they didn’t use that name in the title—would be capable of wiping out a farmer’s market stand in no time, leaving nothing behind but a heap of useless melon rinds and lettuce cores.  The Were-Rabbit, perhaps, could benefit from extensive behaviour modifications in order to adjust to life as an overly large rabbit.

It would seem that the bigger the bunny, the bigger their issues.

  1. Roger Rabbit

Now Roger isn’t a bad bunny.  In fact, if a real rabbit were to be anthropomorphized, he is pretty much how many of us imagine one would be—fun loving, energetic, and desperately in need of Ritalin.  Much of the troubles that he experiences in his life can actually be attributed to the fact that he possesses a relatively low intelligence quotient—making him a prime target for manipulation.

Roger also suffers from the most intense allergic reaction to alcohol that the research community has ever observed.  One drink transforms this simple-mind, but loveable bunny into a force of unstoppable destruction—annihilating everything in his wake.  Roger’s alcohol-riddled alter ego and dim wit earn him a spot as a bunny in need of help.

  1. Bugs Bunny

Bugs Bunny is a classic example of a rabbit who suffers from multiple psychological issues.  Admittedly, Bugs possesses the highest IQ that the scientific world has ever encountered within the rodent order.  It is, perhaps, his immeasurable intelligence that has caused him to be ostracized by his fellow rabbits—forcing him to adopt the role of human.

Bugs’ delusions of grandeur have earned him countless enemies, which include in their numbers several humans, one duck, a coyote, an extra-terrestrial, a witch, and a large red hairy thing.  Bugs exhibits an inability to get along with others, which is exacerbated by the fact that he is extremely paranoid—believing that everyone he encounters is “out to get him.”  His irrational fears often lead to bizarre behaviours such as wearing women’s clothing and lashing out with violent acts.

It would also appear that the laws of gravity do not affect him.

Bugs is a bunny with multiple issues who could likely keep a therapist busy for years—earning him the number one spot on our list.




My Present Left Me Crippled And Blind…

Yesterday was my mother’s birthday and she received 45 scratch cards. Seriously. Now, one would think that receiving so many chances to win BIG money would be a good thing. And it was–in the beginning.

The first problem is that some of these game cards are as easy to understand as an Ikea instruction manual in Klingon. And, the play area, itself, has font so infinitesimal that a flea would require a magnifying glass. After just one card, my mother had the eyes of a crack addict.


Image result for crack addict eyes

This man has, obviously, played too much scratch bingo.

And, of course, there is the scratching. My mother has arthritic hands. After one giant monopoly board, she was worse off than Jerry Seinfeld after signing his Japanese royalty cheques.

One can only hope that she wins a huge payoff. If only so she can afford laser eye repair and physiotherapy on her hand. 

Which brings me to a whole other concern. Me being me–an OCD neurotic mess–I, immediately, began to worry about her inhalation of so much of that weird scratch-off residue. I mean, what the hell is that stuff made of? Some carcinogenic slurry of road-paint and drywall dust from the floors of a factory in China?

Note to self: Tell mother to wear card-scratching mask.

1) I don’t think I have ever purchased a scratch card for myself. Perhaps, if I lived in one of the Top Five States that spend the most money on scratch cards, I, too, would have succumbed to this addiction.

  1. Massachusetts
  2. West Virginia
  3. Rhode Island
  4. Delaware
  5. New York

In fact, according to MoneyWise, the monies spent in Massachusetts on scratch tickets equate to almost a thousand dollars per adult. It makes sense as this Atlantic coast state (interestingly, a geographical characteristic shared by all five top states) claims to be home of the original instant scratch ticket.

2) I am a fan of Simpsons-esque eyeballs–large and round with the pupil smack-dab in the middle. And, as far as eyes go, I subscribe to a “the bigger the better” school of thought–unless they are simply temporarily enlarged due to a night of scratch card playing or cocaine snorting.

The world’s largest eyeballs belong to the Colossal Squid. These baby blues–or should I say blacks–measure in at 11 inches in diameter. Eyes the size of dinner plates.

My ex-father-in-law had a glass eye that he used to pop out of his head from time-to-time. I’d find it on my chair, my place mat,  or other random places. Thankfully, it was small. I can’t imagine finding this thing sitting next to my fork.

Plus, isn’t this squid missing his eyeball? Is he out there somewhere swimming around with a giant eye patch bumping into blue whales and things?

3) According to Marc Okrand, the creator of the Klingon language, roughly 100 people are fluent in this tongue. Is it just me or is this 99 people too many? I remember mastering Ubbi Dubbi as a young child. I thought I had unlocked a secret code–a little kids’ version of the Dead Sea Scrolls. But, for the most part, whenever I uttered something like “Hubellubo! Hubow Ubare Yubou?” people simply looked at me like I was having some type of seizure.

The point that I am trying to make is that I was a child. The adults around me did not pull out their Ubbi Dubbi to English dictionaries and try to decipher my nonsense. They told me to talk like a normal person. Why, then, have 100 grown-up humans gone to great pains to master a language that only 99 other people have mastered? Has no one told them to talk like a normal person?

If you’ve never actually heard a non-Klingon speaking Klingon, you will want to check out this dude rapping in Klingon.



Photo credits: Squid Eye:  Drug Addict:


I’ve got a horrible taste in my mouth and I’m buried in snot rags…

I am feeling nauseated. Whoever invented the term “I’ve got butterflies in my stomach” needs a slap to the head…with a brick. My gut feels like a herd of hissing cockroaches are at war with a bevy of botulism-riddled bacterium carrying Swiss army knives. Butterflies, my ass. Speaking of “ass”…my butt is the cause of my urge to vomit. My buttal region has recently gone on strike and, as a result, I decided to give it a not-so-gentle nudge with a dose of Milk of Magnesia.

Now, for those of you who have never experienced this tummy-churning, bowel-blowing concoction brought to you by the lovely people at Phillips, don’t let the heavenly manna-esque name fool you. And do not let the bottle’s promise of mint or cherry flavouring raise your hopes either. All the chocolate in Switzerland could not improve the “dead fish and chalk” taste at the root of this witch’s brew.


Image result for vintage milk of magnesia ad

Sweet? Pleasant? WTF? 

So, here I sit with my guts rumbling, my taste-buds cringing, and a reinforced distaste for all things minty. But my butt will know who’s boss.

And, while I’m on the topic of masking horrifying tastes with seemingly benign flavours, does anyone–other than me–automatically associate artificial cherry flavouring with cough syrup?

Well, it would appear that the company that produces Kit Kat chocolate bars has decided to one-up this trend by masking the taste of chocolate–after all, who enjoys that creamy cocoa taste?–with the medicinal flavour of cough drops. Yes, the new flavour, available for a limited time only in Japan, contains throat lozenge powder. Apparently, this is aimed at preventing sore throats as soccer fans cheer on the Japanese National Soccer Team. If you want to try one of these cough-suppressing candy bars, you are out of luck. They were only available until September 2017. Darn it all.

The United Kingdom’s Donna Griffiths certainly wished that there was a tasty anecdote to sneezing as she achoo-d her way into a Guinness World Record. She sneezed for a consecutive 977 days, from January 13, 1981 to September 16, 1983–including roughly a millions sneezes in the first year alone.

Did she hold a job? How did she sleep? I want to know more about this. This would make an awesome movie. A little hard to find an actress willing to tackle this role, but Meryl Streep could do it.

Did everyone around her get tired of saying “God Bless You” and “Gesundheit?” How much Kleenex did she use? Did she find it hard to stay within her 2 garbage bag limit on trash day?

Virtual Assistant Help

On that note, I must run. Read into that what you may.


Image Credits:

Milk of Magnesia-



Cavemen and Martians and Doughboys, Oh My!

I have as much faith in the newspaper’s daily horoscopes as I do in a Chinese factory worker’s ability to pen prophetic words and stuff them into my fortune cookie. This raises the question…Why aren’t  there more psychic lottery winners?

I do, however, find it interesting that cartoon characters and puppets have birthdays. Not because I think that everyone born on November 2 will share Cookie Monster’s unhealthy relationship with food or that those born on February 22 will suffer from Pebbles Flintstone’s speech impediment. It is simply fun. Unless, of course, you are like me and learn that not a single one of your beloved childhood characters shares your birthday.

Here is a list of assorted talking ducks, dogs, and other creatures and their dates of birth (according to various websites).

January 9-Daisy Duck

January 12-Mater

January 17-Huckleberry Hound

January 13-Rubber Duckie

January 28-Ernie

January 29-Aquaman

February 2-Fred Flintstone

February 3- Elmo

February 8-Beeker

February 12-Gromit (Wallace & Gromit)

February 14-Pink Power Ranger

February 17- Rod Flanders

February 19-Batman

February 22-Pebbles Flintstone

February 25-Patrick Star (Starfish)

February 29-Superman

March 2-Porky Pig

March 3-Lucy Van Pelt

March 4-Woodstock

March 9-Barbie

March 17-Dennis the Menace

March 18-Pillsbury Dough boy

March 20-Big Bird

March 22- Kenny (South Park)

April 1- Bart Simpson

April 17-Daffy Duck & Sherlock Hemlock (Sesame Street)

April 20-Barney Gumble

May 1-Sponge Bob Square Pants

May 9-Kermit the Frog & Lisa Simpson

May 15- Minnie Mouse

May 25-Goofy

May 26-Kyle (South Park)

May 29-Iron Man

June 1-Oscar the Grouch

June 7-The Amazing Mumford

June 9-Donald Duck

June 19-Garfield & Tasmanian Devil

July 1-Guy Smiley & Cartman (South Park)

July 24-Marvin the Martian

July 26-Bert

July 27-Bugs Bunny & Jon Arbuckle (Garfield)

August 7- Wallace (Wallace & Gromit)

August 19-Snuffleupagus

August 21-Christopher Robin

September 5-Clifford the Red Dog & Pluto

September 13-Scooby-Doo

September 15-Mr. Burns

September 19-Slimey

September 30- Snagglepuss

October 1-Marge Simpson

October 2-Snoopy

October 6-Peggy (King of the Hill)

October 9- The Count

October 14-Grover & Winnie the Pooh

October 16-Telly

October 19-Stan Marsh (South Park)

October 25-Squidward

October 28-ALF

October 30- Charlie Brown

November 2-Cookie Monster

November 18-Mickey Mouse

November 21-Quick Draw McGraw

November 30- Mr. Krabs (Sponge Bob)

December 17-Little Bird (Sesame Street)

December 22-Elsa (Disney)

December 27-Howdy Doody

Who do you share a birthday with? Who would you most like to share it with? 

My Nose Smells. No, really. It Stinks.

I possess a very keen sense of smell, but there is something that I have always wondered, but been afraid to ask.  Do nostrils smell?  Of course, I know that nostrils are capable of enabling us to sense a smell.  What I am asking is “do nostrils, themselves, actually emit an odour?”  I have never sniffed with any nose other than mine, so maybe I have just become accustomed to the smell of my own nasal cavity.  What if it really stinks and, as a result, I am not able to smell the world around me properly?

i smell spit (1)

Maybe Tim Horton’s coffee doesn’t really smell like skunk butt.

Oh no.  I have always loved the smell of freshly pumped gasoline–a fact that has raised many an eyebrow over the last few decades.  Ugh, I’m old.  Maybe it smells horrible–like asparagus pee–and I don’t know it.


How can any of us really be sure that our own nose aromas aren’t interfering with our sense of smell?  The only way to be sure is to rip off another person’s nose and borrow it.  You know–try that childhood “got your nose” trick, but really mean it.

I got your nose!!


Speaking of body parts, I love Tim Burton movies.  He’s rather an odd duck, I know, but his bizarre perspective on the world translates into brilliant films.  I have always wondered, however, how Edward Scissorhands partakes in rock, paper, scissors.  Seriously.  Only an idiot would do the old “one, two, three” and pull out a flat paper hand.


And, as long as I am on the subject of idiots. In Canada, we have a dishwasher detergent called “Cascade” and its commercials star a woman who solves dish-related domestic disputes.  Unbeknownst to me, it would appear that we Canadians take our dish washing very seriously. This sage of plates and forks refers to herself as the “Cascade Kitchen Counsellor,” presenting troubled dirty dish owners with this miraculous product that can remove baked-on foods and marital discord in one dishwasher cycle. This is my new dream job.


But I digress. Back to the question at hand. Do you think your nose has a smell?


Images courtesy of:  Asparagus pee (, I’ve got your nose (, Scissorhands (,

I Apologize on Behalf of my Middle Finger…

How do you hold your pencil? Apparently, I use the “death-grip” method–which is unfortunate if you happen to be my pencil. Or my middle finger. Yes, my propensity for clutching my pencil with brute force has resulted in a large protuberance that I (somewhat) affectionately call my “writing bump.”

skeleton pen

I was once a robust, healthy pen. And then “she” got her hands on me.

Well, it turns out that my unsightly writing bump is the product of an “immature pencil grasp pattern.” Okay. I have been referred to as immature before–usually after I have been spotted talking to a mitten or drawing eyes on a cantaloupe–but this is a whole new form of…um…youthfulness. Yeah, that’s it. Youthfulness.

sad cantaloupe.jpeg

It’s hard to eat fruit with a face. 


After years of communicating via the QWERTY method, my writing bump had almost disappeared. My middle finger had returned to its pristine pre-pencil self. Finally, I could hold it up with pride. I found myself wanting to show everyone just how lovely it looked. Surprisingly, no one seemed impressed. Coincidentally, this era is also known as the lonely years.

Even Mr. Rogers is proud of his “Tall Man.” (Just heard this sentence out loud for the first time. It sounds worse than it actually is.)

Enter the adult colouring book–the seemingly benign collection of highly addictive intricate drawings designed to transport fully grown people back to their childhoods. Seems like a perfect match for someone with an immature pencil grip. There is just one problem. Yes, thanks to Johanna Basford and her tribe of evil colouring book artists, my writing bump has returned to its former gargantuan glory.

On the upside, my middle finger is much less outgoing than before.


Here are a few examples of what happens when the innocent fun of colouring  enters the adult realm.

colouring picture for lazy


Bored Panda

thrill murray

Mental Floss

 puke by numbers

Sad and Useless


one night stand

Huffington Post


Have you fallen victim to the adult colouring phase?