television – Rant and Roll

Go long. Go very long.

Okay friends.

Some things.

What a sports nut!

Yesterday Marc and I watched A LOT of football.

Now, this is great because I really like football, and I really like Marc, and because both teams that I wanted to win ended up proving victorious.

HOORAY!

Also, after watching eight million trailers for what I can only assume to be crappiest TV shows ever to grace the face of this planet, I am fairly certain that all programming on network television is just the crappiest dreck of life.

Oh my sweet goodness.

Seriously when did CBS (and its ilk) become vessels for such unbelievably epic crap?

Has they always been havens of television garbage?

(I am beginning to think yes. Yes they have.)

Also how many pseudo-serial killer crime shows can one world possibly sustain?

And who is naming these programs?

TOMORROW’S PEOPLE? WHO THE HELL WAS PAID TO COME UP WITH THAT IDIOCY?

…

Anywho, to get away from that on to what I really want to talk about – as we were watching the Broncos dismantle beautiful Brady and the New England Patriots, I started to feel some weeeeeeiiiiirrrrddd feelings.

Mostly, (and I really don’t know how to feel about this) I started to feel grown-up lady feelings for Peyton Manning.

WHAT THE WHAT.

I have had some strange crushes in my time, but I really feel like this one takes the cake.

My favourite thing to come out of this whole grim fandango is the following exchange between Marc and I:

CLASSIC.

And what can I say?

I am who I am.

And I like what I like.

(NERDS.)

All of us ladies.

I just started watching the first season of Girls (HBO programming for the win!) and I really, really like it.

I thought that I would hate it because everything that I’ve read about Lena Dunham has left me with a fairly sour taste in my mouth, and people just love to dump all over her and her writing, and her white-washed, privileged interpretation of what it means to be a young woman making a life for herself in Brooklyn (not to mention the fact that I feel like this is something we will continue to hear about ad nauseam even long after the show has left the airwaves) –

But again, what can I say?

I think it’s pretty darn hilarious.

Luckily for me, I cannot relate to much of anything that these four ladies are going through, but I am sure that there are some young women out there going through similar trials and tribulations suffered by Hannah and her posse each episode (and sweet Buddha help them all).

Are any of you folks watching?

What do you think?

Drop me a line and let me know.

Our voices, heard loud and clear.

So last night my great friend Chelsea co-hosted the Storytelling Show with me and we discussed a whole manner of things, including Youtube, smoking, house purchasing, novel publications, and Liam Neeson (amongst many, many others) and it was just such a rad, fun show that I would love to leave the link for you all if you care to have a listen.

At the very top of the page click to listen to the episode from January 19^th.

Laugh!

Love!

Enjoy!

…

So that’s all she wrote for this late-January Monday.

I hope you all had a brilliant weekend, and are facing the next four days in earnest.

And don’t worry.

It’ll be Friday in no time.

Take me home, country road

Do you ever get homesick for the different places in which you have lived?

I do.

Edinburgh 226 — Marc’s and my hostel in Edinburgh.

Last week I was chatting with our interim receptionist, a lovely young lass named Louisa. She being a native-Londoner, and myself a self-professed anglophile who lived in Jolly Ol’ England (BAH) in 2009, it was natural that our conversation turned towards the things that we missed most about life in the UK.

That morning we lamented about how much we missed GREGGS, a British chain bakery (and the place to procure the BEST 3 for 1£ egg tarts you will ever sample in your ENTIRE LIFE.)

As I walked back to my office I thought about all the things that I miss most about the different cities, that at one point or another, during my short twenty-eight years, I have called “home”.

Here are two of them:

Birmingham.

Cheap groceries.

Oh how do I miss thee! Three big blocks of (GOOD) cheese for five pounds? A massive box of cereal for ninety pence? A dozen free-range eggs for one pound? Organic veg for all but nought?

WHY ARE YOU SO BAD AT THIS CANADA?

Ease of travel.

“Oh hey! Want to go to Bath today? How about Edinburgh next weekend? What about Switzerland for Christmas?

“Hmmm, I don’t know…”

“It will cost us next to nothing, and we will be there in a matter of hours.”

“LET’S DO IT.”

All the candy.

Seriously, walk into a Tesco and IT IS EVERYWHERE. Aisle, after aisle of just the most amazing junk food you have ever encountered.

You can buy different flavoured marshmallows.

And if you like marshmallows as much I do, THEY WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

And it is glorious.

Rugby.

I sure do like me a professional sportsman with cute bum.

Or as Marc was one to say, “Could you stop taking photos of that guy please?”

Classic.

Halifax.

Friendly people.

Seriously, the nicest people you will ever meet (I should probably say SOME of the nicest people) live on the east coast of Canada.

Sometimes I miss the easy, everyday interaction with people who just want to really, truly find out how you are doing.

Bars that have live celtic music.

This point needs no elaboration.

Also this:

Ease of travel.

A little different from Birmingham, in Halifax proper you can pretty much walk anywhere (weather permitting, of course.) In the dead of winter is it unlikely that you want to be on foot going anywhere, lest you freeze to death, trapped in a massive snow bank, or get carried away in a hurricane.

But in the summer?

It’s glorious.

…

On a completely different note, I feel like I’m going slightly mad from watching so much MI-5.

I was taking the skytrain yesterday, and there was a half-drunk frappacino under my chair, and all I could think was, “I’M SITTING ON TOP OF A BIOLOGICAL WEAPON.”

Yeesh.

I should probably give it a rest, and allow my life to be influenced by other things.

Although I sure do want to be spy.

I also find it weird how just watching this show totally ramps up my homesickness for the UK, despite the fact that it regularly rips out my heart, and gives me massive anxiety over the course of both episode and series’ arcs.

What about you dudes?

Do you folks watch MI-5?

And what cities do your hearts call out for?

I want to hear all about them.

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.

Phone’s ringing dude

Oomph.

I am jetlagged.

The time change and long distance travel malaise didn’t hit on the way down to Nova Scotia, but coming back to fair British Columbia it certainly has done its best to knock me off my feet.

Waking up on Wednesday morning, my head felt a little foggy, but I just chalked it up to the fact that we hadn’t fallen into bed until close to 2:30am (that day!), after, literally, traversing the whole of North America the night before.

(Well, crossing the east-west divide of the continent, at the very least.)

However, after spending the day cleaning, and running, and grocery shopping, and friend hanging-outing, I literally collapsed into sleep that night (knowing full well that my first day back at work would probably be busy as a busy thing.)

And it was.

But more than that, the next morning my head fog remained (if anything it seemed thicker than before) and all of my limbs felt weighted and stiff. Here we are a day later, and this lethargy remains, and my whole body feels slightly out of whack – almost as though a key ingredient has been overlooked when putting together the recipe for my life back here on the West Coast.

I am sure that this will fade (as most fog does) but in the mean time I am excited that it is already the weekend, and I can relax and get my wits together before tackling my first full week come Monday morning.

In even better news, my older sister is here for the weekend, and tonight we are having a sleepover (which means junk food and Kids in the Hall) and on Sunday there is a big family dinner with Mel’s (her fiancée’s) family.

The excitement kids! It’s palpable!

In the meantime, let’s check what’s frying up on the stove this Friday.

Onwards!

I hear the call.

So, after living for many moons (over two years actually) without a cell phone, I finally caved to social pressure (aka my mother’s desperate pleas) and procured a personal mobile device.

What can I say – I need to keep up with the times.

And the trends.

Plus, carrier pigeons are expensive.

What time is it?

Do you have Netflix or the internet?

Do you love a good television series?

Can you see?

Do you find yourself interested in geek-chic actors, such as Ben Whishaw, or beautiful, brilliant blondes like Romola Garai?

Do you believe that Dominic West can only really play dashing cads because, in all likelihood, he probably is a dashing cad in real life?

If you have answered YES to any of these questions, you must immediately abandon everything that you are doing and start watching The Hour at once.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iP2mIaLsquc

I just finished the second season and am so, so sad that it is done.

If you start watching let me know what you think.

Also, two words more of encouragement: DUCK. FACE.

Separation anxiety.

So I remarked briefly in my last post that Nymeria was really excited to see M and I upon our arrival home.

This was no mere exaggeration folks. Our little gal has been so over the moon to have us back, I’m starting to believe that she actually thought we were long-goners.

Never have I ever heard her purr like this – it’s like she’s got a tiny (but efficient) train operating inside of her, one that is running at all hours of the day.

Every night since we’ve arrived back she has either slept on my legs or feet (or sometimes even tummy) and she talks, talks, talks all the live-long day.

Hi mum! Hi dad! Don’t ever leave me again, okay? I’ll never scratch the carpet ever again I promise! Or at the very least I’ll try my hardest not to tear it apart! I love you! So glad you’re back!

I am actively destroyed every time I open the front door – whether it’s returning home from work, or coming back from a run, or with an armful of grocery bags.

(Literally too, due to the fact that as she weaves in and out between your legs it is very easy to be tripped up by this dance.)

An animal’s love, phew – it’ll get you.

Good thing we love her tight right back.

Sniff.

…

So there you have it my darlings.

What’s on the docket for you all this weekend?

Phone, text, or e-mail me – I’m rightfully equipped to hear about it all.