Needles Should NEVER be Repeatedly Driven into This Area of the Body



I was looking at tattoo artists in the surrounding area when I came upon this promo on a studio website:

After reading this ad, my nipples screamed and ran away in horror.



...

WHY IS THIS A THING? AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS NEVER HEARD OF THIS?! DO NIPPLES REALLY HAVE TO BE ENHANCED? CAN'T THEY BE LEFT AS MOTHER NATURE INTENDED THEM TO BE? They're so sensitive! WHY INFLICT PAIN UPON THEM?!?

And WHY is there a Breast Cancer Ribbon? I totally get if a woman had Breast Cancer and needed a mastectomy or reconstruction, she would pehaps want to recreate that aspect of her gazongas, but then how does that work with the "enhance your natural beauty"? Does the average person feel the need to make their nipples stand out even more? Is it the new vajazzle or something?

Maybe since I've moved into the sticks, I'm way out of the loop. Please let me know if I've missed out on the introduction of other fads.

The Biggest Birthday Party Ever (A Person or Two Might have Called it a Local Bachelorette Party)

So last Friday, I went to my Birthday Party with two friends. It was fabulous. The bridal store really worked hard to make it the best party possible. Just for me.



Lawyer and Ginger, also known as Maid of Honour and Bride
to be, also known as awesome people to get drunk with.

We entered a beautiful banquet room at one of the best hotels in the city. There was a dance floor, a DJ booth, a Henna tattoo stand, a photo booth, the fashion runway, a lounge area and three separate bars (so I didn't have to wak more than 15 feet to get a cranberry-sourpuss-vodka, which I like to call a Party Hour Sweet & Sour).

There were also a bunch of servers offering hors d'oeuvres, but they kept presenting me with seafood, and I was all Haven't you seen The Little Mermaid? Shame on you for killing Sebastian and Flounder!

 

As soon as I got in, Lawyer started buying me drinks. I had no problems whatsoever with this.

 

After a drink or two and a visit to the photo booth, we watched the fashion show. Since I watch America's Next Top Model, I (irrationally) think I'm an amazing judge of runway-walking skills. This means I spent most of the fashion show critiquing the models for their sub-par walks. 

 

You're supposed to sell me the dress. Work it, damnit!

  

Horrible posture and arms, although great attitude.




After the show, there were multiple draws to win prizes. I won a $10 gift card for a jewelry store where bracelets start at around $150. When I got the card, I was like YAY BIRTHDAY PRESENT! Now I see that its basically like saving 7% or less on an item I couldn't afford unless I stopped spending money on cheese and chocolate. Which, let's face it, is never going to happen.

 

Oh, did I forget to mention that there were multiple half-naked men hired to throw lollipops at women and to socialize with the desperate single bridesmaids and the brides-to-be with low morals?

There was also a stripper that gave shows on her pole and taught some girls (and the half-naked men) some moves.

Sidenote: Before her show, the stripper was just walking around like everyone else. As soon as I saw her, I was like Bing-bing-bing! That's definitely a stripper. Turns out that I don't have much of a gaydar, but I do have a great stripperdar.

Us being women of incredible class, preferred to shun the men and grope each other instead.





There is 100% ass-groping going on in this picture.

We proceeded to drink some more.

 





I asked Ginger if it was appropriate to throw money at them.
She said it totally was.

Afterwards, we hit the dance floor, were I taught Ginger how to dance to Gangam Stye while Lawyer looked on disapprovingy (she is a hipster and absolutely refuses to join in any fads, unless they involve wine). After a while, the party planners kicked us off the dance floor so a Burlesque troop could perform.

Men were invited to attend the party after 10pm, but Andrew refused to join, so I sent him pictures of the show with the message See what you're missing? HALF-NAKED WOMEN SHAKING THEIR BOOBS AND ASSES!

 



We were clearly drunk at this point Also, notice the wasted
woman about to poledance in the background.

The night ended with some good old fashioned dancing to the Spice Girls. Then the girls said it was time to call the boys to take us all to our separate homes, since it would take them half an hour to get to us.

 

Because I was having a blast, I totally forgot that there were free limo rides, so as we got texts that our rides were here, the host of the party announced that the limos had arrived and were ready to take the first batch of drunk-ass girls home. Although I suggested that we could just send the boys back home and take the limo instead, both Lawyer and Ginger pointed out that that decision might lead to unfortunate consequences, such as ridiculously angry boyfriends.

 

Before we left, we took one last picture together:

 

 

This was the first attempt of the last picture of the night:

 

My liver didn't like me the morning after.

Add a Little Sex Appeal to your Front Yard this Halloween

Do you feel like your lawn needs more trashy seductiveness?

 

Do you want the atmosphere around your home to scream out bimbo! without having to resort to ridiculously skanky costumes that only vaguely look like the character they're supposed to represent? (Not that it will stop you from dressing up as that sexy nurse.)

 

Do you think to yourself "Pumpkins and Scarecrows just don't get me hot and bothered anymore"?

 

Do you just love whores?

 

If you said yes to these questions, consider purchasing the Halloween Hooker Skeleton!

 

Venereal disease and  18th century pimp not included.

We saw this at our local Canadian Tire. They were on sale and yet no one seemed to be buying them. Probably because prostitute chic is so last year.

"Hey baby, how much
for your honey?"

Sidenote: Do prostitutes actually dress up on Halloween night? Like, can you pick up the bumblebee and the ghost on the corner?

Canadian Feature Friday: Weekly Culture Shock

I've been trying to think of a fun themed weekly post that I could start, like Wordless Wednesday or Flashback Friday. But hopefully more original. I feel like the structure will help me keep posting on the blog.

Like my boobs, I need structure in my life. No, wait. Boobs need support, not structure. My brain must have just wanted to subconsciously mention my boobs.

Boobs.

Anyways, I decided to do weekly posts about different parts of my identity. It'll either be about Canada in general (like today) or more specific, like the East Coat, New-Brunswick, being French Canadian,  etc. I'll be posting facts, photos, links, videos, whatever the hell else I find that's interesting and that others may not know. Cause it's my blog and I can do whatever I want.

To start this traditon, here's some facts about the land of the Maple Leaf:

• Canada was invaded by the US two times, in 1775 and 1812. But we got even with the help of the British, who were pissed that the US was bullying us. They sent troops and burned down the White House in 1812. Take that, Bully Ancient Americans.
• If you're beyond badass and actually downright fucked-up, you should go to Dawson City in Yukon (which is not even near where I live. There's no way you can associate this weird-ass shit with me.) There, you can join the “Sourtoe Cocktail Club”.  Requirement: you must finish a drink that has a dehydrated and severed human toe in it. I am not making this shit up. “You can drink it fast, you can drink it slow — but the lips have gotta touch the toe.”
• If you want to hear about the toes donated to this "cause", click here. I'll let you go vomit now.



Mike Myers at a NY Fashion Show walking the runway in a kilt,
dog-eared hat and a Canadian hockey jersey. This is why I love him.

• Jim Carrey is Canadian, but Canadians don't care, because he pretends he isn't. Mike Myers (aka Austin Powers) on the other hand is proud of his nationality, and we therefore love him.
• We're also the home of Pamela Anderson and Justin Beiber, but let's ignore what I just said out of shame.

You're still vomiting thinking about the toe drink, aren't you?

Bonus Fact: The Moosehead Brewery in Saint John, New Brunswick, produces 1,642 bottles of beer per minute. This makes Andrew a very happy man. 

That's it for this week. Hopefully I'll actually keep this up. Unless no one likes these posts, then I'll stop doing it. After crying for hours.



This Post is a Cry for Help. From your Boobs.

Ladies.

Makes me giggle everytime.

I am writing this post because I am sick and tired of seeing this everytime I go out. There you are. Getting all fit and shit by jogging down the street. You're wearing $150 running shoes from Sportchek or Dick's, and nice yoga pants from Lululemon.

As much as you take time to look good for your jog, making sure that it doesn't look like you were trying, you always seem to have one thing missing in your ensemble: a good sports bra.

Sidenote for the boys: Sure, you might have fun driving by those bouncing congo bongos, saying "BOINGOINGOINGOING" in your mind (by the way, they don't actually do that noise.) But enjoy it while you can, cause it only goes downhill from that point on.