Friday Fry-Up – Rant and Roll

Anybody hear that? I’m fairly alarmed here

Hey dudes!

I don’t know about where you live, but it’s raining like a raining thing out here on the west coast of BC.

Normally this isn’t something to really gripe about (what with it being my choice to live smack dab in the middle of a temperate rainforest an all) but come this Sunday I will be running 21.1 kilometers (13.1 miles for all you lovely Yanks/Brits out there) and I would prefer to do so sans soaked running shoes.

(Sans soaked shoes and/or any garment really.)

It’s not that I don’t like running in the rain, I just always imagine it being so much more romantic than it actually proves to be.

And for that, I blame Four Weddings and a Funeral.

“Is it raining? … I hadn’t noticed…”

NO ONE BELIEVES YOU ANDIE MACDOWELL.

NO ONE.

Okay, let’s get back on track.

And what better way to do this than with one of my favourite blog posts:

THE FRIDAY FRY-UP.

Hold on to your butts.

YOU GUYS.

Jurassic Park is back in theatres!

HECK YES.

Let’s take a quick walk down memory lane shall we?

1993. Age 8. Summer. Vacationing in Calgary. Staying with my mum’s friend Claire. She has twin girls who are 10, and a boy who is 12.

We all get along like gangbusters.

Are we going to go see this movie?

OF COURSE WE ARE.

If I remember correctly, I talked my way into permission by telling Claire that this film would be easypeasy compared to some of the other flicks I had previously sat through (despite my, well, extreme youth.)

Her eyes got pretty wide after I told her that on Easter we had rented The Fugitive for some festive post-egg hunt family bonding.

But I mean, c’mon lady, if I could handle Han Solo jumping off of a dam and the terrifying one-armed bandit, I could definitely hack a bloodthirsty T-Rex and a shirtless Jeff Goldblum.

AM I RITE DUDEZ OR WUT?

The other thing that really sticks out in my memory about this day (other than how much I loved this movie, despite it scaring the absolute crappola out of me) is that it was also the day I first heard the term “Jeeze Louise.”

This, to my 8 year-old self, was pretty much THE FUNNIEST THING OF LIFE, so in order to calm myself throughout the scariest parts of the film, I just repeated it over, and over again.

OH HAI NEWMAN BEING SPRAYED AND KILLED BY DISARMINGLY CUTE BUT ACTUALLY TERRIFYING DILOPHOSAURUSjeezelouisejeezelouisejeezelouise…

(And so on.)

Anywho, as you may imagine, going to this re-release is very high on my TO-DO list (as it too should be on yours), but in the meantime if you want the very best ever summation of the movie, please read this.

You will laugh.

I promise.

I am very famous.

Just saying.

And because I am very famous, I eat things like this:

And take family portraits like this:

Help.

Goodbye, my friend.

So come Monday, my best friend at work (the amazing, brilliant, and beautiful Jen) is moving on to a new job, and despite the fact that I am SO HAPPY FOR HER, my little heart is pretty sad knowing that I won’t be working with her for the REST OF MY LIFE.

Veteran readers of this blog will know that she has been a top partner in crime for the past two years as we’ve kicked butt and taken names, skulked about local shopping haunts, and tried out delicious cuisine in and around the downtown core.

(She is also a formidable gym partner, professional Ticket to Ride competitor, and the official Rant and Roll fairy god-mother.)

So Jen, if you’re reading this (and I know you are), let me say this-

GTFO.

YOLO!

Also:

Yeah. That’s pretty darn cheesey.

And I love it.

…

So there you have it folks.

What are you up to for the weekend? Any there any runs, films, fame, or friends on your radar? Do tell me all about it.

Happy Friday to you all!

Putting on a show

On Wednesday I pulled a King Lear and went for a run in a storm.

(Unlike Lear however, I managed to keep all of my clothes on.)

There really is something to be said for powering through totally crap weather. But then again, there is also something to be said for knowing when to say ENOUGH.

Of course, today is absolutely blooming gorgeous (though still chilly to the bone) so I’m excited to be out and about, actually feeling some of that sunshine on my face.

In other BIG NEWS – yesterday I purchased tickets for this year’s Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

YAY!

This makes me SO EXCITED.

Oh Ashland – I love you with so much of heart that none is left to protest!

This of course means, that the I won’t need to keep running in the rain to get my regular dose of old Willy Shakes. This year we will be seeing King Lear (my absolute favourite tragedy, I CANNOT WAIT), along with Cymbeline and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

MEEP.

I love this production company SO MUCH it is hard for me to appropriately communicate just how much I am looking forward to this trip.

Much like last year, we will be camping, but unlike last year we will be driving straight to Ashland (with perhaps a stop in Portland because, you know, PUT A BIRD ON IT) and staying the length of our trip in the town.

This will be my fourth time at the festival, (and somehow my third time seeing Midsummer!) and I am basically already bouncing off of the walls just thinking about it.

Because dudes – I LOVE SHAKESPEARE.

Lovelovelove him.

It.

His plays.

(Or what you will.)

See what I did there?

Fry-up time!

Don’t give me that lip.

Currently I am obsessed with red lipstick. If I could only wear one piece of make-up for the rest of my life, it would be my choice.

HANDS DOWN NO CONTEST.

(Although you would probably also have to pry my NARS blush from my cold, dead hands.)

There is just something about a strong lip that makes me feel like a super hero. I like to imagine that when I am getting ready for work in the morning, I am magically transformed from glowering ork to ethereal Galadriel – so terrifying and mesmerizing I am, in all of my splendour.

ONE LIPSTICK TO RULE THEM ALL.

Uh.

Reign it in there lady, reign it in.

But serious, if you were to look in my purse at any given time, I can guarantee that you would find on average three different lip products, of varying degrees of red (I like blue undertones the most – nothing too orangey or brown because GALADRIEL DOESN’T MESS WITH THAT STUFF.)

And I really wouldn’t have it any other way.

Coming attractions.

I love Jean Reno.

Is that weird?

It might be a little weird.

But seeing as though I cannot properly answer this question, if you lovely people could weigh-in, provide your two cents, opine on the subject, etc., etc., it would be much appreciated.

But I really love him.

Like, a lot.

Playing dress-up.

One of my favourite books of all time is The Buddha of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi. I could wax long and eloquent FOR YEARS about why this is one of the most brilliant and beautiful stories I have ever read – so while that post percolates away in the recesses of my brain, take my word for it when I say that you must read it IMMEDIATELY.

One of the characters Eva is always waltzing about her East London flat in these amazing maxi dresses, so when I saw this piece the other day, my immediate reaction was:

BUY IT! PRETEND TO BE EVA!

BUY IT AND THROW GLAMOUROUS EAST LONDON PARTIES!

I mean, I would probably have to procure some headscarves, and maybe a couple of pairs of over-sized earrings to really pull off the entire ensemble, but I think that owning this dress is definitely a step in the right direction.

I’ll let you know if I take the plunge.

…

So there you have it beauty cats!

Are any of you planning on catching any of the Bard this summer? And what makeup (if any) turns you in a battle prepped warrior?

Do let me know – because after all, we’re in this good fight together.

That’s a real mixed bag there Jim

Hey kids.

Do you remember this song?

I was listening to CBC as I made dinner last night and Stephen Quinn played a series of tunes that were nominated for best song at the 1987 Academy Awards. I nearly flipped my wig when this one came on because even though I bloody-well LOVED it growing up, I haven’t listened to it for years, and years.

I’m pretty sure we had it on a mixed tape that I wore to shreds, rewinding it over and over and over again so I could listen to this song on repeat. Well, it and By the Rivers of Babylon.

And Gloria.

Holy smokes – I’ve just been knocked over by an amazing case of nostalgia.

Those too are seriously tip top tunes. NO JOKE – 1993 really was a solid year in my musical development.

(I cannot stop laughing at these words that I am typing. I was one seriously strange kid.)

FRIDAY FRY-UP TIME!

Kids these days.

So speaking of the early 90s, lately I have been watching ALL the Kids in the Hall.

Now, I’m pretty sure I’ve written about this show before, but I really cannot stress just how much I love it. In my (very humble) opinion there will never again be anything as funny, irreverent, strange, brilliant, and just plain bat-shit NUTS, as was this program.

Seriously, these dudes are pretty much my comedy gods and I will never not laugh like a drain watching their seriously bonkers brand of sketch humour.

I also may or may not have a massive crush on Bruce McCulloch.

(Circa 1990.)

It will always be one of the great injustices of my life that I will never have the opportunity to make out with him.

(Circa 1990.)

(But with me being an adult in 2013. I don’t want to make things all weird here.)

(I am back to laughing at the words that I am typing.)

Anyways, it’s pretty much impossible to name my favourite episode, let alone skit, so I will just leave you with the following. AROOMBA!

On Wednesday’s we wear pink.

Yesterday I bought these pants.

They are very, very pink.

And I love them.

I also bought a really cute little t-shirt that is just regular cotton t-shirt in the front, and all cut-out lace in the back.

Basically, it is a very fashion-forward mullet top.

And I love it.

Also: JOE FRESH PLEASE SPONSOR ME AS I PURCHASE YOUR WARES ALL THE LIVE LONG DAY.

I have a stand-up show tonight and I think I will be wearing this outfit.

Because nothing says comedy like bright pants and a half see-through shirt.

Onwards!

Race it.

This weekend the man with whom I make my home and I are going to make an Amazing Race Canada audition tape.

OH YES BABY.

I have wanted to do this for many moons, and briefly considered trying to apply for American citizenship for the sole purpose of auditioning for the original Amazing Race.

I honestly cannot think of anything more fun in the world than running across the globe with my love.

So stay tuned, as you’ll want to see what happens when you get us two looney tuness behind a video camera.

It might look a little something like this:

In the immortal words of The Simpsons: PRAY FOR MOJO.

Ed’s note: That vid was made VERY late at night.

Happy weekend y’all!

Laugh it up! Laugh it up fuzzball!

So.

First things first –

I am ~~internet~~ famous (kind of!)

Just check out this bio on little ol’ me over at the comedy festival’s website.

YAY!

And in the immortal words of Rod Stewart: Tonight’s the night!

(Only, you know, without all the sexual stuff.)

Now, excuse me while I jump up and down like the excitable jumping thing that I am.

Friday Fry-up time!

Well that’s offensive.

I was buying my sister a birthday card the other day in Hallmark when I espied these:

THIS KIND OF CRAP MAKES ME SO ANGRY I WANT TO PUNCH A HOLE IN THE WALL.

First of all, let’s get one thing straight.

Porn is porn is porn.

por·nog·ra·phy /pôrˈnägrəfē/ Noun

Printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity.

This whole idea that women somehow get off on seeing dudes BUY FLOWERS or WIPE A BABY’S BUM is so unbelievably offensive TO BOTH WOMEN AND MEN that it makes me head spin.

Oh yeah…seeing that guy ACT LIKE A HUMAN BEING makes me so hot…I mean, holy crap – a man COOKING!? AND CLEANING TOO?! HOW SEXY IS THAT!?

I need a cold shower just thinking about it!

Like, cuz, those things are normally just for the womenz to do, RIGHT PEEPS?

BARF.

NO.

Just no.

American beauty?

Are you dudes watching House of Cards?

Here are ye olde House of Mad, we are big Netflix connoisseurs and as such we’ve recently started watching this program.

It’s a show that was actually made for Netflix, which is pretty darn cool in and out of itself. I imagine that as viewership of traditional cable continues to drop, more shows will go the way of the live-streaming route.

(Allowing viewers to binge-watch at their leisure.)

Anyway, back to the show. Am I the only person who thinks that Mr. Spacey is a bit of a psychopath? I mean, the dude comes across as creepy as heck.

Also, I never thought I would hate someone as much as Walter White (Breaking Bad), but Francis Underwood is giving him a pretty good run for his money.

And that’s saying quite a bit.

But don’t let that detour you – if you have access to this show do check it out. It’s a pretty good glimpse into how morally bankrupt and incestuous our political systems truly are, not to mention how we’ll probably never know 99.9 per cent of the machinations that take place behind the capital’s closed doors.

Looking at what these horrible (fictional) people do, that gives me one good case of the shivers.

Sister, sister.

Today is my beauty cat of a little sister’s birthday!

She is a firecracker, a butt-kicker, an amazing chef, and a lass who can rock a vintage dress like no other.

I wish so very much that I could be with her today to celebrate this auspicious occasion, but as I cannot, I send her all my biggest and best birthday wishes.

Also, we are very good looking when we hang out together:

Like, the most.

…

So there you have it my darlings!

I will let you all know how the show goes tonight.

And in return, I’d love to hear how everything is going for you all, wherever in the world that may be.

All the colours of the rainbow

Hey gang.

Do you ever wake up in the morning and feel the urge to dress like Amélie?

I do.

So this past Wednesday I put together this little outfit:

I snapped this photo whilst out on a walk-around of Forever XXI’s latest megaplex, a monstrosity currently talking up a huge chunk of (incredibly valuable) downtown Vancouver real estate.

FYI – upon dressing myself this way, I had no choice but to help a blind man make his way to the metro station, all the while whispering in his ear, describing all the comings and goings of the busy streets we travelled.

Okay.

So that actually didn’t happen.

Ho hum, pigs, bum.

Anywho, I only found myself at Forever XXI because I had a lunchtime hankering for some dressing room mischief, and I had arrived with the express intention of trying on absolutely bonkers clothing.

However, this plan fell by the wayside pretty quickly, as upon my entrance to the store I was greeted by a number of darling dresses, and I realized that I would much rather try on a bunch of adorable pieces than wreck myself laughing over a completely crackers floral jumpsuit.

(But only just.)

I scampered about, scooping up a few things here and there, and eventually purchased two dresses, of which the following is one:

I actually wore this dress last night at my stand-up show, along with a black and gold sweater, and brown scarf.

I like to think that I looked like the most beautiful bruise in the world.

And guess what! I’ve been booked into doing two more shows this month, so I’ll be jamming tonight AND on the twenty-fifth. Meep.

Even cooler? These are both Friday shows, which I can only surmise to be proof of the fact that I’m moving on up in the comedy world.

Oh baby.

So in honour of Friday awesomeness, let’s get this fry-on on the stove.

Colour me surprised.

So I was loitering about Sephora like the creeper that I am (okay, I was actually just using the store as a short-cut on my way back to work from lunch) when I saw this:

HOW TERRIBLE IS THIS – I CAN’T EVEN.

Thirty new shades you say?

Why, how utterly generous of you Clinique!

I mean, had I been in charge of this campaign I would probably have gone even bigger and marketed the whole thing as: “Fifty shades of beige!”

Good grief.

I mean, first, how many different variations of white can a company possibly make?

Maybe Clinique should spend some of their research and development dollars on creating a product (or, you know, products) geared toward the myriad of women out there whose skin tone doesn’t fall under the general category of “eggshell.”

Canada is pretty darn multicultural. The concept of diversity (and the fact that when diversity exists it should not be ignored) isn’t that hard to understand.

If anything, advertisers should be interested in providing a diverse, inclusive product, seeing as though it’s pretty common knowledge that the larger client basis a company appeals to, the larger their revenue.

Honestly, I totally get the creeps when confronted with this kind of crap – like when I see nylons or pantyhose (PS I HATE THIS WORD SO MUCH) labelled “flesh tone.”

Flesh tone for WHO?

I tells ya – white privilege. Coming to a store near you.

Next!

Feeling crepey.

Sunday morning, post-rain soaked run breakfast of strawberry Nutella crepes and coconut water.

NUFF SAID.

Bergman chic.

I took a photo of this sweater in H&M the other day because this style will never stop making me laugh.

I believe Noel Fielding put it best, when, wearing a sweater very similar to the one above, he said that he looked like a 1970s Swedish film director.

And I will never stop thinking otherwise.

Also, if you are unacquainted with the absolute madness of Mr. Fielding, I would recommend introducing yourself as soon as possible.

Maybe start out with a little Never Mind the Buzzcocks, then make your way over to the IT Crowd, and then finish off with The Mighty Boosh.

Disclaimer: the latter show is totally nuts, so if you don’t like anything as odd as Kids in the Hall, this might not be the stuff for you. Just stick to Buzzcocks and IT Crowd.

…

So that’s all she wrote, you beauty cats you.

The west coast weekend weather is supposed to be off the charts brilliance-wise.

I wish you all the same, and more.

Always, always more.