My French Family Reunion

Me and my cousin Steph, who used to blog. Feel free
to go on her blog and bitch at her for not blogging
in over a year. Do it.

Towards the end of the summer, Andrew, my parents and I went up North of the province to go to my mother's family reunion. It only happens every four years, so it's exciting when it finally comes around: we get to pay tribute to the members of our family that have passed on (by choosing one person from each family branch to fight the others to the death. But we're trying to change that). We also like to celebrate all the recent weddings, births, and knocking ups, as it means our plan of world domination can expand. We do all of this celebrating by partying all day and night.

As much as I roll my eyes as Andrew's love for camo and hunting, the French-Canadians of Northern New-Brunswick are basically rednecks: predominantly white, rural, working class people with lots of bad tattoos who listen to French country music (yes, that exists), go to church and love the beer. My family has many of those characteristics and they're awesome.

Since Andrew and my French family were so similar, I thought they would get along great (most of them are bilingual, so Andrew wouldn't have to use his French to communicate. Which is good, because all he knows are "How are you?", "You're a fat cow" and some animal names). To help Andrew better integrate into my family, I decided that I should include an interesting (albeit false) fact about him whenever I  introduced him.    

 I came up with a quite a few. They include: 


This is me in my Typique hat (the mascot of
the big festival held in my mother's hometown)
and a ploye, a local dish that I FUCKING LOVE.



Hi, this is my boyfriend Andrew... he has a glass eye.

...He has an STD.

...He likes to make jokes about killing puppies.

...He has a thing for women over 70.

...He eats banana peels.

...He can't feel anything past his left knee.

...He has a pet moth.

...He once made out with a drag queen. He had no idea it was a man.

...He's wearing a wig.

...He's a eunuch.

...He memorized every Teletubbies episode.

...His aspirations include creating the biggest ball of chewed bubblegum in the world.

...He farts when he's excited.

...He wants to dye our pets' fur in camo.

He didn't appreciate my efforts at all. He still had a pretty good time without the use of my master plan, although he was most likely referred to as "the boyfriend of the crazy chick wearing a porcupine hat."

Sky - She Likes to Prove me Wrong (Video)

After I taught Sky to speak, I made a video to show off her extreme intelligence to friends and family. It failed.   

 

Also, in case you're wondering why I'm threatening my puppy with a closed fist, we teach the dogs using both verbal and non-verbal commands. "Speak" command includes a power fist. It helps her self-esteem.

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.

Life Update #2: Moving On Up (but Not to the East Side)

OMG HI, I'M STILL ALIVE,  I'VE JUST BEEN RIDICULOUSLY BUSY! WHY?

BECAUSE WE BOUGHT A HOUSE THIS SUMMER!

TA-DAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Yep, we are now the proud owners of a home that not only has a foundation, but also has a basement. (Woah, we're living big!) Not being able to ever truly part from Andrew's parents (who lived one kilometer away from our minihome), we just moved further down the same road. Past the point where the road stops being paved.

That's right, we've increased our Hickness by living on a shitty dirt road. Though there are plenty of reasons that sucks, I like to look for the rainbow that follows the rain. I'm fucking optimistic y'all.

Pro: Way more windows to let sunlight in.

Con: Lord knows how the hell my little car Knuckles is going to drive in the middle of a blizzard on an unplowed dirt road.

Pro: If ever I take Ecstasy, I can trip out naked in the backyard without worrying about people seing me talk to the flowers. Although I'm pretty sure that if I was on Ecstasy, I wouldn't give a crap.  

Con: I shouldn't be encouraged to take Ecstasy. I'm crazy enough as it is.

Pro: Increased chance of surviving the zombie apocalypse due to isolation.

Meet Clements, our new Palm Tree
and Liberace, the gold deer.

Con: This isolation also means that there would be no one around to save me if I was being attacked by a serial killer. Or a clown.

Pro: Our new place has an orchard with 5 apple trees. 

Con: Because of these lovely apple-buffets, we get visited more often by skunks and racoons. And as much as I feel like a Disney Princess, Andrew keeps stressing that if approached and sung to, they will attack.

Pro: Since we're surrounded by woods, Andrew is constantly out scouting and hunting. Which means he can't always be around when I try to sing to the woodland creatures. There's still a possibility of communicating with them.

So while I'm waiting for wildlife to appear in my front yard, I'm painting and unpacking boxes and getting our house ready for a House-warming Party I'm pretty sure is never going to happen cause the house is never going to be fully unpacked. But I'm really trying to fit in time to blog, I swear!

P.S. The previous owners of the house were absolutely nuts (think paranoid and immature with their use of permanent marker in our home) so I will have a few stories relating to when we first moved in.