While vacationing in Vermont, the bears need their big tea cups:

For any herbal teas

An after dinner tea

For the morning’s Earl Grey

I’ve been thinking about doing this for a bit, and living with DR who is totally seasoned in the medium, I felt the time was right to give it a go.

So I’ve decided to make some art. I’ve painted my first canvas:

This is the first in a series of 4 floating skulls. I will post as they come. They’ll end up on a wall somewhere or in the next garage sale….

Sometimes back, while shopping for birthday cards, I fell upon this small selection of very funny cards, they had a few for the Holidays, a few for b’days and a few for just any occasion. They weren’t like the other cards for sale, these had real pictures glued on the front of the cards with some snappy catty comments on the inside, the perfect gay card. Finally. Since I couldn’t decide which one to buy, I bought 7 of them, including these two:

At the cash register, the clerk asked if I knew them from before as they had just discovered them and were going to get much more in the future. I told him I had never heard of Mikwright before but I sure was going to be buying them a lot in the future. He then turned my attention to two little books filled with the pictures they used with the caption, I couldn’t resist, I bought both of them too. These books are proudly displayed in our bathroom for anyone to peruse while using the facilities. When we have a party, I sometimes can hear people howling in laughter coming from the bathroom, I know they have just picked up the books.

Mikwright has grown a lot since then, they do much more than cards… I have some of their sticky notes, napkins, toilletery bag, magnet, etc. Go see their website, there’s a sale right now!!! OH I NEED THAT APRON!!!

Here’s another reason why I’m glad I grew up in the 80’s:
(this girl is beautiful but she could never dance)

That’s how many years I have lived in Toronto and avoided the Toronto International Film Festival. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the idea of the festival itself, it’s more that I can wait a couple of weeks to go see the same movies for much less once they are released to the general public.

When I lived in Montreal, I used to go to the International Film Festival every year, I’d see a good 10 movies every time. I even booked vacation days one year to attend to more than that. Montreal didn’t showcase many American films in its round-up, it truly felt like an International Festival… maybe it was more special to me because not many films from England, Australia, Japan, etc would ever play in Montreal otherwise unless they were translated in French as well or unless they’d play in an art house for one or two showing only.

This said, after I was made aware of EVERY LITTLE STEP, a documentary on the auditions of the casting of the new production of A Chorus Line on Broadway, I sort of new there wouldn’t be many chances to see this on the big screen, so there I went, to the TIFF’s box office to buy two tickets… and then I was reminded of another reason why I had never been to the Toronto International Film Festival: 2 tickets cost me: $43 (#44).

Ouch.

They’d better not be one fucking peep during that 9am showing.

Anyway, here’s a preview of that VERY EXPENSIVE movie we’ll see tomorrow:

I got a sudden feeling the morning would be worse than usual when I kissed DR goodbye at the subway station and felt my personal space totally violated by a whole bunch of strangers who thought it was a good idea to walk inches behind my ass. My gut feeling was totally right.

At the Yonge & College corner, I decided to cross even with the countdown showing only 6 seconds, I know I have enough time as when this countdown reaches zero, I still have 4 more seconds before the other light turns green. What I didn’t count on was the idiot bitch sitting comfortably in her plush Cadillac Escalade turning right on a red light while talking on her cell phone, it seemed that waiting was not in her card so she decided to blow the horn and scared the bejesus out of me as I was approximately 9 inches away from her front bumper, prompting everyone in the Tim Horton’s to turn their head to see what was going on and embarrassing the shit out of me. I took out my iPhone quickly but couldn’t turn on the camera fast enough. Still, I pretended to take a shot of her license plate. Let her freak out about it for a couple of hours.

I continued west on College and took a left to go south on Bay. That’s when I ran into Santa, a jolly old man with snow white hair & beard and super red cheeks who I see frequently on this same walk. Santa likes to smoke his pipe in the morning before reaching work. As I passed him, he decided to knock his pipe on the side of the wall to put it out. Of course, the wind picked up and all the ashes flew at me. My first reaction was to broadcast out loud: “Jesus Fucking Christ”, which Santa quickly disregarded. He took the first entrance inside his building. I have left home only 15 minutes ago and already have my heart racing and my clothes smelling of vanilla and roses. Yippee-ka-yeh.

Still I continued south on Bay until I reached Gerrard where I took a right and continued on west. At Elizabeth St, the light turned green for the 3 of us waiting to cross to the other side. As the two young women in front of me decided to go, so did the car that was stopped at the red light ready to turn right on the red light. Without even looking in our direction, the fat woman driver pressed on the gaz pedal only to finally turn her hear in our direction and notice the three terrified faces looking at her, she slams on the breaks. Accident averted. I couldn’t resist reminding her that she needed to always look both ways before turning on a red light. She dismissed me with a wave of the hand. You fat fuck I thought to myself as I reached the other sidewalk.

By this time I was so wired with annoyance and aggravation that when I pulled open the door at Sick Kids hospital to finally get to my Starbucks, a woman holding a thermos and a large bag zipped in front of me and turned with a smile and said: “thank you!”. I swear I almost drop-kicked her. And she was the only person that had actually been nice to me.

After purchasing my coffee, it seemed that everything calmed down a bit.

But it was only at 16:26, as I went to the bathroom that everything really changed for the better. As I got in, I noticed that one stall was occupied but the urinal was free, so there I went. All of a sudden, the ripping fat wet sound of diarrhea filled the room, followed by an even louder wet fart, a heavy sigh, the long pull from the toilet paper roll and a double flush. I then heard the stall door open and the sound of the faucet. I was finally finished by then and was somewhat curious as to who had made this serious melody for my benefit. Oh yes, it was my work arch-enemy. Oh how much fun would I have telling certain people about this in the following few minutes.

While camping a couple of weeks ago, we started discussing horror films and monster movies. I was reminded of this little gem:

And then this other one:

While awaiting to order my Venti Earl Grey tea this afternoon, I noticed a woman at the service counter who was getting agitated. She was standing with a friend who looked most uncomfortable to be in her presence, maybe it was because the rather largesque woman was having a low-blood sugar fit or maybe it was the inappropriate tight outfit she was wearing, I’ll never know. But this is what I’ve overheard:

Barista (loudly): Grande Double Moccaccino Whip (or something like that)
Large-Agitated-Form-Fitted-Clothed-Woman (also loudly):Huh! That was supposed to be a VENTI!
Barista: Oh, I’m very sorry, I will change this right away
Large-Agitated-Form-Fitted-Clothed-Woman: Huh! No, I’ve already waited 10 minutes for this, now I’m late for work!!! Thanks a lot!
Barista: Again, I’m very sorry about that.

When it was time to order, I told the cashier, who had also caught the mini-tiff by the large-agitated-form-fitted-clothed-woman, that it was no surprise he got the drink wrong as I swore I heard her order a “Venti triple fat double crisco with a shot of shortening infused with lard”.

Once again, I got my tea for free.

What happens when an suicidal violent serial killer takes a blackmailer as an apprentice while manipulated by his own child who has inherited daddy’s taste for murders?

This little twisty cat and mouse chase gem happens:

Don’t be turned off by the choice of actors, they all redeem themselves from earlier bad movie choices they’ve made. William Hurt as the personification of Mr. Brooks’ addiction is perfectly cast.

I do believe that there is a larger amount of homeless in Toronto #29 during the summer months, it seems people from everywhere come and sleep in our parks in hope of getting more money than they would begging at home. The influx also brings some new fun ways of being accosted by the non-working crowd. Today on my way home, at the corner of Jarvis and Gerrard, some guy comes to me with a box of pizza with one slice left in it, wanting me to buy it from him, I smiled as it was not the usual tricks people normally pull for a quarter or a loonie and then I said: “hummmm, well…. as enticing as this looks, I think my husband would kill me if I came home not hungry after he spent the afternoon cooking for me”. He just looked at me with his mouth open, closed the box and started backing away. I wasn’t sure if it was because I actually responded to him in a semi-polite manner, or that I used the word “enticing” for the pizza box/slice he probably found in the park nearby or that I mentioned my husband… and then just went I thought I was in the clear, he went: “well, I have a feeling one slice of pizza wouldn’t fill you up”. The insolent bastard.

Later on, on that same walk home on Carlton just past Ontario, I noticed this guy in the middle of the street with his dog on a leash doing a cute little number 2 #04… in the middle of the street… not on the sidewalk, nor close by… but in the middle of the street, we’re talking streetcar tracks, painted dividing lines and all. Luckily for both of them no cars were coming. Anyway, after doggie finished his business, they just walked away, not even an attempts to pick it up, maybe a little guilt in the guy’s face when he noticed me noticing him. Of course that was all the invitation I needed to pipe up: “Do you need a plastic bag?” He didn’t even turn back to look at me when he raised his middle finger in my general direction . The insolent bastard.