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?

Welcome New Followers (I Clearly Owe Lauren a Justin Timberlake Poster)

Hello to Lauren's Blogstalkers, and welcome!

This is me welcoming you while posing in front of absolutely nothing.

Since you guys are new and I don't want to just regurgitate my "About Me" page, I thought you may like a quick list of my previous posts that aren't crap. You know, so we can become best friends and make each other friendship bracelets and have sleepovers and talk about one another behind the other's back. So here we go!

• This Post is a Cry for Help. From your Boobs.
• A rant about the general use (or lack thereof) of sport bras while jogging.
How's This for a Back-From-Holiday Post?
• It turns out I'm absolutely terrified of rodent invaders. And by terrified, I mean screeching and sobbing while standing on the bed.
• Dr. Christine - Like Dr. Phil, but WAY more doable.
• Some relationship advice concerning communication. Hint: the key is puppets.
• Why Catholics are Crazy (Or, when Willpower bites you in the Butt)
• I attempted to practice the P90X version of Lent and ended up in the foetal position.
• Hello, my Name is Christine, and I am a Hypochondriac.
• The title pretty much speaks for itself. I also use Matthew McConaughey as an adjective. It's definitely going to turn into a thing. Like Bootylicious, or Amazeballs. 

If you haven't already stopped reading, here are other labels to check out:

• Sleeping with Psycho
• Andrew tends to sleepwalk/talk and when I actually catch him doing it, it both scares me and fascinates me.
• Crazy Wedding Bitch
• I am planning a wedding with Andrew even though we aren't engaged. Yet.
• Lucy Can't be Kept Indoors Alone
• Want to see photos of destroyed objects strewn across my living room floor? Well, you're a bitch.
• Love Story
• Mainly pre-blog stories of Andrew and I's relationship. Many involve me being embarrassed and/or crying.

So, can I expect a bracelet?

I'm Pretty Sure Andrew is just a Child with Werner Syndrome.

You know, like the kid/Robin Williams in the movie Jack, who grows up 4 times faster biologically than he does chronologically.


Imagine the giant kid in the middle, but wearing all camo.
That's basically Andrew.

Not that I'm wishing a most likely devastating disease on him or anything. Cause then I'd be a major bitch.

Sidenote: I may be a regular bitch, but I don't consider myself to be a major one. That title is reserved for people who go through the Express Checkout Lane with over 20 items in their cart, people who don't like puppies and those who say they love your outfit but then say to someone else that its ugly. If it was so hideous, you should have told me to put it through a shreder to my face. (Please comment below to suggest other defining features of a major bitch.)

Plus a purple one.

Now, the reason why I think Andrew is secretly a child in disguise: it was 11pm and Andrew came into the living room with three freezies. Nevermind that tonight was Canadian Thanksgiving and he had a ridiculous amount of food to eat, it was freezie time!

Then 15 minutes later, I find him sitting on the couch with a package of Teddy Grahams, playing the "Can you Spot the Differences?" game on the back of the box while sharing his snack with Lucy. He was quite proud that he spotted all six differences until I told him that the game was made for a 7 year old.

I was surprised he didn't have a juice box as well, but it turns out he drank the last one this morning.

We Interrupt this Relationship for Hunting Season

This week marked the beginning of Hunting Season, also known as Sorry Babe, but you'll only see me after 9pm and on your Birthday Season.

It's like that European fairy tale where the Prince can only visit the Princess after dark or he'll become the Witch's slave. Except that the prince is replaced by a hick, the princess is on codeine pills and has a swollen jaw, and the penalty for daytime contact is a missed opportunity to kill something cute and furry.

So it's actually not like a fairy tale at all.

My bad.

On a slightly related note, here's a picture of the T-shirt Andrew's grandparents gave him when we first bought our house. It's obviously Andrew's favourite shirt.

Yes, Andrew's legs are that white.

There's only like a 3% chance that his Nanny and Grampy knew that the T-shirt was actually referring to this.

 

Ahhhh, the 90's.

Raise your hand if you can still remember all of the lyrics to the song.

 

Or better yet,

 turn around, stick it out. Even White Boys got to shout.

8 Things to Do When you Can't Sleep

Apparently, even if you're recuperating from surgery, sleeping all day for a week isn't a good thing. Because when you finally go to bed early due to the fact that you need to get back to work in the morning, your brain will be all "HAHA FUCK YOU, BODY! WE'RE GONNA PARTY ALLLLLLLLLLL NIGHT!"

 

During this temporary bout of insomnia, I found various activities that can keep one occupied.

• Find new and strange sleeping positions. Maybe your body just wants to spice up your REM time. So I diverged from my usual Spiderman/Praying Mantis and tried out the Fetal position, the Starfish, the Log (which turned into a Barrel Roll), the Superman, the Donut and the Tango.
• Read a little.
• Do some yoga. Pull our the yoga mat and everything, go all the way! At the end, when you're supposed to thank your body for everything that it does for you, savour the irony of the moment.
• Wake up your significant other; if you're gonna stay up, you might as well have some company. Don't be surprised if your other half isn't impressed.
• Play with your cats until they work themselves up into a killing frenzy, then watch chaos ensue.
• If your boyfriend/girlfriend was a total dick earlier when you woke them up, feel free to throw the bloodthirsty felines on the bed.

She's clearly pretending the camera strap is Andrew's face.

• Take some painkillers.
• Sidenote: Only take painkillers if you actually have some sort of physical pain, such as wisdom teeth removal.

I'm lactose intolerant, so I just downed the tranquilizers straight.

• Eat some Jell-O. Cause hey, you're awake anyways, why not?
• Regardless of how far away the light is, do not attempt to eat the Jell-O in the dark and in bed. You will end up thinking you're all done your snack, only to lay your head down on your pillow and find your face covered in lost Jell-O.
• Think about possible future blog posts, such as "Things to Do When you Can't Sleep".

Eventually, around 3:30am, I managed to fall asleep by laying on the couch, tricking my jerkbrain into thinking that it was a regular nap.