Tag Archives: Funny


For a part-time job I collate and deliver flyers in the rural route around my house. The compensation is actually much higher than most would assume and the entire cheque goes into my retirement savings plan. Pretty smart eh?

As we all can appreciate, each new opportunity we embark on comes with both, good and bad, challenges. Since I operate approximately 250 mailboxes weekly I feel I am a good judge of character for what’s good and bad about the mailboxes and their owners.

So with that said, let’s talk about mailboxes and their owners. You’re going to be amazed at the variety readily available for any delivery person in a rural route.

Some people are creative. I have a snoopy mail box on my route, a Great Dane canine shaped mail box equipped with even a tail and big ears, one that has ‘HI’ in pink lettering, a mailbox with Jesus on the cross, one with hearts all over it and of course business related mailboxes that carry their company name and/or logo. These mailboxes are my favourite. They are clean and I feel safe opening and closing them as they are all in wonderful working order.

No. Not Creative.
There is one mailbox that has corn stalks. A messy dirty dried bunch of dead cobweb infested corn stalks, tied to the mailbox with some weird faceless pumpkin dudes tied to the stalks. This isn’t fall themed coloured corn stalks, this is stale, brown crusty corn stalks from your local farmers field.  This is not creative by my standards, this is just creepy and annoying. I have to fight with the leaves to open the door and I drop the F bomb at least once during the stalk box visit. It’s dead corn stalks for crying out loud. Tie them to your front door and leave the mailbox out of it. I will tell you what your husband, neighbours and friends are afraid to tell you!! NO ONE is impressed with your dead dirty corn stalks. Just let us do our job without having to tackle the jungle to do it. While you’re at it, do us all a favour and give the dead stalks back to the farmer whose field you stole them from. We all know you walked across the road and cut yourself a few stalks. Stalker.

Now that the creators are out of the way, we have the majority to talk about. Mailboxes are gross. They almost always have spiders, cobwebs, earwigs and duck tape, are falling apart in one way or another, missing pieces and man, I just don’t understand people. You know what I have? I have a friggin mailbox! No duct tape holding it together, no threats inside written on paper, no missing door, it’s not bent and wobbly. It’s a mailbox with a fully operational door.

Rust Buckets.
I don’t want to have to go to the emergency room and get a tetanus shot when I cut my hand again trying to reach in your rotting, falling apart rusty mailbox, that also has its door hanging off by one sliver of a rusty hinge. CHANGE IT! If you ask me real nice I’ll drive it over and you can call the city and say someone knocked your mailbox over. Lucky for you, they’ll send someone out to repair it. But once they see your rust bucket, they’ll spend the money you aren’t and get a real one. Geesh! Why is it so hard?

If your mailbox has spider webs, spiders , earwigs or any bug on it when I arrive, I can guarantee you without a doubt, I will bet my house and children, that I used YOUR flyer to beat and kill the pests and swiped all the webs away before I put your flyer set inside your box. It’s not dirt smears on your flyers, it’s your friendly neighbourhood spider. If it’s sticky, it’s just the webs. If you have a mailbox and see the flyer in your driveway and wonder why. Check your mailbox. It could of been so gross that I wasn’t willing to battle the arachnid farm living in and on your mailbox. Fix it or next week you’ll get the flyer in your driveway again.
Side note: House #4935, the next time I open your mailbox and hundreds of earwigs fall out I’m burning it down. To the ground.

Duct Tape.
I do not want to battle duct tape. I checked my contract with work and not anywhere does it say I will need to battle hanging sticky bunches of duct tape while trying to get the flyers in the mailbox. If your mailbox needs duct tape, I’m going to go out on a limb here, but it just might need replacing.


Terrorist Proof.
For those of you that think it’s hilarious to weld and make your own two thousand pound mailbox I’m not laughing. First. Rule 101. Mailbox doors open down not up. So it’s bad enough you feel the need to build a missile and terrorist proof mailbox, but to have a door that weighs a hundred pounds open the wrong way is not cooperating with flyer delivery physics. Because of your terrorist proof mailbox, I felt the need to accept your challenge and started lifting weights. Carry on neurotic.

There is a mailbox, rusty, bent and clearly in need of retirement on my route, like so many. This one I’m not so sure I need permission to drive it over. It just might accidentally happen one fine day. The door is not hinged on, like you would assume. I open the door and let it go thinking it’s hanging on by hinges. You know, like it should be. It falls off. I constantly forget because it goes against mailbox door policy. Hinges! I have to pull forward and get out, get the door and put it back on. Eventually I got fed up and just threw the door in the mailbox. The door remained inside the mailbox for over a month. Recently the door was back on. I said to myself “Oh good, someone fixed it”. I pulled it down letting the door go again and what does it do? Falls into the tall grass surrounding the mailbox AGAIN! I’ve had enough. So you understand trickster, I drove over your door, reversed and drove over it again, forward shift. One more time driving over it for good measure. I have your door in my car. You will never see it again. I hope your mail gets snowed on!

A Barn.
Is this massive structure really necessary for some envelops and a few pieces of paper? What exactly are you expecting to get delivered? Mail order a new car recently? Seriously, knock it down a size, you look pretty silly. You know what women say about guys who drive trucks with stupidly large tires. Well your friendly neighbourhood group of fine ladies would like to know if your mailbox is compensating for anything.

Let’s talk about some of the people now.

Love letters. Some people are just bat shit crazy. Obviously this poor guy is at his wits end and left a love letter for his federally criminal thieves. Why would you take someone else’s flyers? Oh right, cause you’re bat shit crazy that’s why. Leave his flyers alone.


I have a few regulars who wait or come flying out of the house when they see the delivery lady. Interesting for sure. One gentleman is a bit much. I’ve actually informed the office that they may have to intervene if he can’t get his wackiness under control. Fortunately they know who I’m talking about from previous experience. Everything with this guy is a conspiracy. Oh wait, this is the best. He says one of the local grocery chains in the next town over is prejudice because they won’t put Merry Christmas on their flyers so he won’t shop there. Of course he told me this in July. Makes total sense; When you’re a nut job. He also wants to know why they aren’t saying God bless in schools anymore. But wait, this is what he actually says “Fuck. I want to fucking know, like fuck, why they aren’t fucking you know, saying God fucking bless in schools any fucking more? Fuck.” This is a 50+ year old man who clearly role models ZZTop. After ten to fifteen minutes weekly, of listening to his rants for 4 months, I finally told him I was an atheist and a spy so I had better get back to work before my boss, a bigger spy kicked my ass. I haven’t seen him since. Magical.

One elderly lady every week tells me she doesn’t want the flyer anymore, opens it and says oh yes this one I do, it’s the other one you deliver I don’t want. After several attempts to explain, I only deliver one set week after week, I now respond with “yes ma’am, you have a wonderful day” and I carry on.

Ok, these type of people make me want to get out of my car and kick them right in the. Shins. Yes shins. They look at me as I approach their mailbox like I’m committing a criminal act or like the act of delivering to their mailbox is some foreign action that they can’t seem to comprehend exactly what is happening right before their very eyes. Listen. Let’s cut through the red tape. You have a mailbox for a reason. You open your mailbox and collect papers and envelops. I know you collect from the mailbox, because it’s empty. Surely you must understand that by having a mailbox this means It will likely get used. STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE I’M A CRIMINAL. It’s going IN your mailbox, not OUT of your house.

To wrap up the variety show, let’s talk about our local serial killer. There is a house hidden way back in the trees. The only reason I know there is a house in there, is because of the mailbox and driveway. If there was a universal sign for ‘A Serial Killer Lives Here’ this would definitely be it. Yup. Here we have it. A stuffed large dog tied to a tree with a real dog leash. No seriously. Look at the picture. This is the real thing. Once in a while I guess the wind knocks the dog over and the next week it will be propped back up.


I’m just waiting for the day the forensics team shows up and a graveyard is uncovered. I’ll be there with my hand on my hip saying what took ya so long?

I throw a flyer bag in their driveway while driving because I don’t want to stop for their
mailbox. A lot can happen in 60 seconds. What I do know for certain is if these guys were my neighbours you’d see a ‘for sale sign’ the exact same day this dog went on the front lawn. Four months later, still no forensic team. Go figure.

I must say I do have a little bit more empathy readily available for Canada Post workers. A little bit. For the most part I laugh most of it off but I can see how some of it could easily get on your nerves if it was five days a week for twenty-five years. When I get to telling my stories to family and friends we get a good chuckle from it. But what if one day I stop laughing at it all. Will I go flyer postal?

Next time you go to your mailbox, ask yourself if it’s a user friendly mailbox. If it has duct tape holding it together, or parts missing, know that all us delivery folks are talking about YOU being crazy and cheap!

Now I’ll leave y’all to debate if mailboxes should be one word or two.


Hot For Your Tamales!!

Oh sometimes Einstein cracks me up. His sense of humour is challenging on the best of days, but sometimes he can make me giggle a little bit.

His humour is off the wall. Like I seriously think something is wrong with him most days. Too many glue sniffing challenges as a teenager? Too many wooden spoons to the head by his mother as a child? What makes someone so out there with humour that it actually has the ability to annoy me. That’s the absolute furthest from funny you can get.  That’s my Einstein.

He’ll say something to Flyp and it literally stops me in my tracks because it’s so out there, I’ll try to process it and search far and wide for a tinge of funny in it, yet both Flyp and Einstein are falling over laughing. It’s just not funny. No. But to them it’s hilarious and they’re hysterical with laughter and zing-backs to keep it a long lived joke going and going.  This happens daily with these two. I’m pretty sure they are the only two who can relate and be amused at this style of humour.

This might be over sharing but here goes anyways. Einstein and I have been together for approx. 18 years.  i can honestly say it has never been about how he makes me laugh or how we lay around and laugh at the same movies or tv shows.  We are complete opposites in that department.  His sense humour has never been on the ‘pros’ side of the chart for me.  Einstein does get bonus points for keeping the teenager laughing though.  I know I couldn’t keep the humour flowing because that is way too complex for me … Or so I’ve been told. 😳

Last night we were laying in bed watching Nurse Jackie. (Haven’t seen it? Get on it!) Einstein was rubbing my hips (oh the pain) but then it was my turn to rub his legs; They always bug him. So off the wall I said “its a good thing I still lust for you” as I put more lavender on his legs.

He responds with a cheeky ‘oh Ya? Why’s that?”

So then I went into all the reasons why he’s a pain in my ass and frustrates me daily and his family drives me around the bend, all told with my sarcastic but exaggerated factual tone etc,. He just nods. He knows the truth is in there. Then he flips me over and says ‘well it’s a good thing I’m still hot for your tamales.’

Well I just busted a gut. That just cracked me right up!! A laugh I definitely needed and a rare gift from his humour that’s for sure.

Bam!! Gift #2!!

Today we were talking about some grading that needs to get done here at home – as we are under water from this rainfall today. To boot, the worst of it is yet to hit the ground. Anyways. We have a lot of mosquitos. I mean a lot. Insane amount. There are so many you can become some crazed freak when they zip around your ears and buzz loudly like they are the size of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. We are 23 acres here with approx. 20-21 acres of it being all trees and bush. The acreage is a registered marshland and can I just tell you what that means for mosquitos?! It’s a 5 star rated resort for the biting pests, that’s what it is.

So Einstein said he needs to put in weeping tile and get it all drained to the ditch at the end. He follows that with “I’ll need to put on my snowmobile suit to deal with the mis-cots” (what he calls mosquitos). Again, the visual had me giggling because there are some things a grown man with a bit of a belly shouldn’t wear and that is a one peace snow suit. Never. Ever. And to wear it in the heat of the summer in defence from our crazy mosquito population is just too much of a visual without letting out a laugh.

Well done Einstein. Two laughs in 24 hours from your whacked out humour. It’s more than the total in 2014!!

**CAUTION** Extreme Cuteness Inside This Blog

Well, today finally arrived and I picked up my day old ducklings. We opened the box at the feed store because the manager and I couldn’t wait to see the little fuzzy ducklings. OMG! Sooooo cute.


I read that they get to know your voice very quickly so I talked to them all the way home. I’m not even sure what I rambled on about but it was the whole 30 minute drive home.

When we got home I took them to their indoor temporary home; the bathroom on the upper level that we don’t use (too many for me to keep on top of). I took them out of the box and put them under the heat lamp and counted. 1, 2, 3 ……… Again an extra duckling, just like an extra chick in my order. Eleven ducklings. I ordered ten. I guess they don’t have much faith in my capabilities as a flock mommy. Challenge accepted!!

I did enquire about these extra birds, just out of curiosity. They said its standard to put an extra in with young orders as it is ‘common’ to loose a bird because shipping and the transition is a lot for them. I can see that whole stress causing death issue and I think I appreciate the extra buffer… Especially when I don’t lose any to stress and relocation and its a free flock member.

Unfortunately, I do have a little sweet duckling that is weaker than the rest but I’m hoping he can pull through. I make sure he gets to the food and the water and gets his opportunity at life just like all the others. I’m definitely hoping he gets his strength up and can hold is own.

When I got them all sorted and unpacked I gave them a big bowl of water to clean their nostrils and have a drink. It took about 3 seconds for bath time to take place. They are so young, they wobble and weeble and sometimes they fall down but give them water and its a party!!! These little dudes are M E S S Y!!

image                                image

Here’s the link to a video of their first bath:      https://youtu.be/pPmtTMbr7jA  (just ignore Flyp & Einteins convo in the back ground – I don’t know how to edit it out.)  and if you listen to the conversation towards the end of Einsteins questions, you’ll understand why I am in charge of the flock and also wonder wHy I call him Einstein.

Shakin’ Tail Feathers, Queen & A Few Names

Ok, so I finally actually KNOW what it means to shake your tail feathers, visually. Growing up I heard that expression much more often than today, but I never really saw a tail feather in action before.

My older girls (9 week olds) give a good booty shake and it cracks me up. It really is shaking their tail feathers! So now that I’m 45 I can say ahhh I get it!!

Sometimes I’m a bit slow, even stalled to ‘get it’ on certain things. I was in my mid 30’s when my teenage daughter pointed out the relationship between the group ‘Queens’ name and ‘Freddy Mercury’. What an Ahhhh HA! Moment that was. LOL! I can’t believe I’m admitting that in writing.

So, I’ve got a few names going on in the flock. I know I know, don’t name your children if you plan to roast them for dinner. I can’t help it, some have these personalities that demand a label.

As you know we have The Fonze, Fonzie my little rooster dude.
Miss Molly is a Plymouth Rock and she has been diagnosed by the flock doctor (me) with ADD with a tinge of extra ADD. She is the smallest of the Plymouth Rocks (older ladies) and is surprisingly the bossiest to the younger gang.

We have the mother hen of the plymouth rocks – she is clearly the ruler of the group. I call her Laverne. Her side kick is called Shirley.

Then we have the smallest of the younger group and I call her Chicken Little. She looks like a ragged mess all the time. Feathers everywhere, often on her own and left out and just a typical runt.

The latest name acquired by the flock, is Dash, inspired by the movie The Incredibles. This girl is from the younger group also, and she literally runs all day. Most of them walk here and there and some times may run, but this one…she dashes everywhere and I can honestly say I haven’t seen her walk yet.

Summary: I have 6 chickens named. 11 unnamed.

Tuesday the day old ducklings arrive. Ten of them!! Excuse me while I do a few twists and giddy laughs and jumps for hooray!! I can’t wait for these little ones to get here. Longest weekend ever ahead of me. I will have 10 more flock members to find names for. September I also have 5 Plymouth Rock pullets (females) arriving and 1 Plymouth Rock cockerel (rooster) arriving and they will be 6 weeks old in September.

Reminds me of a tv show I used to watch. Full House.

WTF Websters!

Personally, I’ve never looked at Websters the same, ever since ‘Bootylicious’ became a part of our official language. I figured with the addition of Bootylicious, well, I hoped someone had an off day and that word added would be the worst of it. Boy! Was I clearly wrong. It has only gotten worse over the years.

Webster, so graciously, has announced their new word additions for the dictionary in 2015. When I think of words ‘officially’ added to our English dictionary, aka a reference for the snobbish English language along with clarification for its use and a definition of its meanings, I don’t expect to find WTF in there. Seriously, I really don’t. Hmmm, I’m feeling a bit sarcastic today.

Just a few of the words added this year are:

Jeggings – lets just visualize jeans and leggings had a baby. Pants that fit like leggings and look like jeans. Clearly not everyone is meant to wear jeggings….I’m on that banned list so I can say that without everyone signing up a petition to have my blog removed. Pfffft. Get over it!

WTF – what the fuck. Anyone not know that?

NSFW – not safe for work (new to me) (I’m debating on a door sign for my office)

Photobomb – a joke or prank in the frame of a photograph – photographer unaware.

Twerk – sexually suggestive dancing such as excessive hip thrusts, shaking of butt all while in a squat position. The reason why foam fingers/hands should no longer be for sale.

My mini rant.
Really Websters? That’s the best you have for 2015?? Shameful. People say N*gga all the time Webster, I double dare you!! Screw the weak like Twerk and WTF, be bold, add N*gga. If you’re going to make a blooming mess of the language, go all balls out I say!!  Apparently you have removed boundaries from the English language because you aren’t exercising any!!

So. This all translates to me, that when my son, a high school student, hands in his english paper or any written paper it can say WTF, Twerk and hopefully before he graduates he can even add N*gga!.

Of course his mother will back him with all the sarcastic justification I can drum up, because after all, it is in the all mighty(less) dictionary. I’ll be sure to advise him of his rights and all ensure he uses the Merriam Webster Dictionary as his reference source.

So, in an attempt to clean up the words being added to our official english language, I’ve chosen a few words that I may or may not use a lot. (You’ll understand when you see #3!)

1. Fantabulous – a combination of fabulous and fantastic. It’s just soooo good not one of those words is enough, we need both! Therefore we have fantabulous!

2. Defecanism – one word to describe a defective mechanism. This one’s compliments of Flyp.

And my personal favourite ….
3. Gunt – A cross between the words “gut” and “cunt”. Meant to describe the mass of flesh that hangs down over a females crotch area and upper thighs. Thank you urban dictionary for that definition (that I had to clean it up for everyone’s reading pleasure).

And my not so clean addition – I have an acronym I’d like added for the people who piss me and you off..

FU – also know as Fuck You. It’s always better received when followed by exclamation marks. The more the better.

Sometimes I like to personalize that acronym and it becomes FUA ‘fuck you asshole’, or FUM, ‘fuck you moron’ and as you can imagine the list goes on. If I’m real angry it can become FUMF. You’ll figure it out.

At this point in the game, I’m convinced someone is sitting in an overly large glass office, looking out from their sky scraper office laughing their ass off while they add all this BS (oh look at that Websters…another acronym) to our English language and how we just sit there and say oh ok, thanks for that new ones Websters.

What’s next? Really. Who knows. It’s anyone guess, much like it has been since Bootylicious became an official word. However, the day they decide to add ‘MILF’ as an appropriate acronym to the english language, will be the same day they see feminists redefine the dictionary!

How To Kidnap My Children

Dear Kidnapper,

As you now know both my kids talk a LOT.  You will likely return them at any moment due to their inability to know when to stop talking.  Let me take this moment to thank you for feeding them dinner.  I’ve probably been a little bit stressed due to their sudden disappearance and haven’t had time to make dinner yet, being preoccupied with the police and all, so you picking up the slack has taken a big load off.

If there is any left over pizza….oh never mind.  It’s probably cold by now.


Their Mom


A Bakers Dozen Of Reasons Why Dogs Are Better Than Humans

1. They never tell all your secrets to anyone, not even a fur-sibling.

2. They never complain when they eat the same thing for a decade.

3. They are ALWAYS happy to see you. 2 minutes or 2 weeks, the party for your return is always the best day of their life!

4. They know how to be there for you … Silently at your side.

5. They always forgive. Always.

6. You don’t have to pay to send them to college/university and you don’t have to worry about them getting hooked on crack while at college.

7. They don’t keep a messy room like the human teenagers.

8. They keep you company while you’re sick, sad, angry or annoyed with the world. (which is often all at once for me)

9. They are always willing to finish your dinner for you when you can’t.

10. They don’t want all their friends to sleep over every weekend.

11. They will always stand up for you, even if you don’t want/need them too.

12. Who needs a door bell when you have a built in dog.

13. And the best reason of all…. TRUE Unconditional love like no other!!!

Happy Birthday Dandan

My grandfathers birthday is today. Jack Dickens. Born March 11th 1923. He would be 92 years old if he was here with us today. My sister who ‘knew’ him before me (long story) declared his name was Dandan, which is what all his grand children and great grand children have called him.

Today in his honour I’d like to share a bit about him. This was my grandfather. Dandan.

He was tall with dark hair, pleasant features and he tanned so well in the summer. As I child I remember thinking boy I’ll never be as tall as Dandan, he’s a giant. Not really, but you know how kids think.

My family is crazy and loud and full of superstars who love the spotlight. I don’t think quiet conversations ever has been a ‘thing’ when the family gathers. Dandan was always confident and quiet. He could sit in a room full of family conversing and carrying on with loud laughter and just watch the conversation flow and be more than comfortable not saying one word. Magically he was a part of the whole atmosphere without really taking part in it. I remember at times, often actually, the abundance of noise was overwhelming for me, probably the beginning of my introvert life, and he would give me a nod with a tug of his head and I’d crawl up on his lap and soak up his soothing calmness. After a few minutes I couldn’t resist my wild and crazy cousins any longer and rejoined the pack rejuvenated.

His calmness is forever remembered with me. My life has been crazy, like most and I wish I could find what I assume was his submission to all of life’s chaos. As an adult I admire his strength to exist amongst such strong personalities, hold his own and he did it with such class. You never felt unwelcome or it was a bad time, or that you were taking up too much of his time. I admire that he didn’t need to be the clown or the jokester, the drunkest, the chef, the smartest or the loudest. He would just putter around or read his books or listen to the rooms conversations.

During the period of my life with the most memories he was a math teacher, assistant head master and then head master of an all boys private school. He was fun and active. Once in a while he’d be cheeky and in my older teen years I would take a double look at him and he’d give me a wink. He played cricket, squash and I think tennis and I have thought deep, but I don’t really have memories of him swimming. My Nannie (his wife) swam a lot and taught my sister and I how to swim and to not fear but respect water. My sister and I would go and watch him play cricket and as we got a bit older we went to check out the boys. Haha! ADMIT IT SISTER!! Cricket is terribly boring by the way, but I thought he was famous or something cause they would all clap when he took the bat thing. Ok, my cricket lingo isn’t up to par. Is par in cricket? Do I get a point for that?

I remember him playing squash with my dad. I think I can even remember it was typically Thursday evenings, but a twinge of a memory also tells me it was twice a week for some time. We would normally go to my Nannies for dinner and my dad and Dandan would head to the courts and whack it out. Sometimes my sister and I would go watch but it was usually the freedom to walk around the campus that we were after. It was exactly what my dad needed with his long hours and stressful job. I always remember the difference in my dad’s mood after playing squash and they would joke about who kicked whose butt back at the house. My dad took a beating sometimes haha – or so he says he did, but for both of them I’m sure it was never about the score. In my adult perspective maybe it was a bit about my Dandan taking a somewhat of a fatherly role, one that maybe my dad lacked a bit of as a child. And/or It could of been Dandans way of inviting my dad into the family and my dad accepting the invite. It’s exactly something my Dandan would do. Good times regardless.

My grand parents took my sister and I to Florida. At least once. I don’t have many memories other than having to do school work in the back seat while we drove down south, battling car sickness. It was horrible. If I signed up for a second trip I’d be surprised at myself. I do recall that is where I discovered Filet-O-Fish from McDonalds. My sister and I would be given money and told to go explore and gather our own lunches. It was their way of allowing us to be independent, make choices and feel in control. I lived for lunch hour!!! The Sand Dollar Cafe has just surfaced as a memory, with our sun dresses .. I’m thinking we must of ate there for dinner a lot too. If you know me, you’d know that to remember food is characteristic of me haha!

It would be hard to pick out ONE favourite memory with Dandan. I do have one that is very true to the type of man he was…

Approximately somewhere between 1976-1978
My grandparents took my sister and I to an island. Not just any island, an isolated island on a warm lake were we stayed naked almost the whole time. Rabbit Nose Island.  We were instructed by my grandparents to not lie about being naked but we didn’t need to offer certain details. Yes we had a naked vacation. Being as young as we were, we understood the message and giggled about it to ourselves often. We figured our parents would lose their minds at the thought of their 2 daughters being naked all day every day for at least a week. I loved that we were doing something with permission but that they would hate. Defiant from the beginning. My sister threw her clothes off almost immediately and was in a naked state long before me. They didn’t pressure me just said it was an option if and when I was ready. It took me about 2 days but once I was naked that was it, no turning back. If I’m honest I can tell you I have no idea if my grandparents were naked with us. That tells me the age was perfect because it didn’t matter. Well done Nannie & Dandan.

Karen, do you remember the bunny shed?? Some big pink floppy eared bunny on the shed or cabin off to the side? We spent a day crammed in with dolls and books when it rained for one day. We could barely turn around with the 2 of us in there but we managed a whole day. Ha! Good times.

So during this time frame I struggled with number 6 and 9. 9 was 6 or 6 was 9 and it wasn’t seeming to sort itself out. Being a math teacher I’m sure it drove my grandfather bonkers when I said they were the exact same and it didn’t matter. (And you can bet I said it with a lot of arrogant conviction lol) I tried for hours to convince him they were the same and he was wrong. Why would they make the same number look different? It’s the same just turn it around. See? I told you so Dandan. Oh boy I was stubborn. He never lost his cool over it, I can’t say the same for me.

Anyways, while I was naked on our Gilligan’s Island, I spent most of my time in the water. I would build forts for the fish in the shallow part and capture them, put them in their safe home (so they wouldn’t get eaten) and name them all. I even had one for some little cray fish or whatever they were with their little lobster like bodies and legs. So I would count them as I caught and added them to their new Fort. 1, 2, …5, 9, 7, 8, 6 and Dandan while reading would gently correct me. I’m sure I told him he was breaking my concentration or something snippy, but he didn’t flinch or give up, just corrected me while he obviously pretended to read. Nannys rule was I had to let them go every night because they had family to go home to. I said I was their new family and what if they weren’t there in the morning bla bla bla. She said you must take one wall down and if they want to leave they can. Fine. The next day I’ll get them all this time and they can all be a family in the Fort but that was mission impossible I learned as the days went on. I’m assuming after a few days of my collection obsession Dandan must of come up with an idea. He told me he had a new game he wanted to play and asked me if I would play with him too. I asked what it was, he said either you want to play or you don’t, but once you say yes you have to keep playing until the game is done. Fine. As long as I could keep catching my new family and hugging them and naming them all. I had to count, 10 fish allowed in each Fort and if I got 6 and 9 confused (he never said wrong) I had to release them all and start back over. Challenge accepted!

I first had to build more and bigger Forts cause I was about to win a lot!! 1 fish. 2 fish. 3 fish. 4 fish. 5 fish. 9 fish. He would gently remove the rock wall on one side and the fish would swim away. I would huff and puff and storm around before settling back in to recatch my new family members. He said Sandra listen to me. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10. He would repeat it a few times but me being me, I was always right (not so much) and just knew I would get it right next time. So the capturing started again. 1 fish. 2 fish. 3 fish. 4 fish. 5 fish. 6 fish. 7 fish. 8 fish. 6 fish. There goes the wall. This went on for days!!! He would write the numbers with a rock sometimes on another rock (you know, the chalk like mark it makes) and we would read together and he would wash it away. I would start my capturing again. Failure. He didn’t give up, but neither did I.

The next day he cut our toast for breakfast into soldiers, to dunk in cracked boiled eggs, and would count out loud my sisters portion and mine, making a big deal out of #6 and #9 and where they belonged. I’m pretty sure back then I even rolled my eyes.

Back out we all went to the lake and my forts. There was obviously some rough waters during the night and my forts were ruined. We decided to build some new forts and he helped. We counted the rocks together me always mixing up 6 and/or 9 and he didn’t make a big deal, he would just keep going. That day we went through the capture and release again. Not getting my numbers right at all. That night by the Bon fire I sat on his lap and cried while I told him I was dumb and we should just leave 6 and 9 alone. We don’t need them anyways, they are stupid. He cuddled like Dandan did and assured me I wasn’t dumb, and he said besides one day you need to be 9 years old and we aren’t giving up.

The next day we started the damn fishing again. Those nets where the best investment Nannie made haha! After a few errors about half way through the day I started counting my next attempted batch. 1 fish 2 fish 3 fish 4 fish 5fish 6 fish 7 fish 8 fish 9 fish 10 fish. Then I moved to the next Fort and it was 1 fish all the way through to 10 fish correctly. He didn’t say a word. I didn’t notice. I filled up the next fort counting correctly again. I continued to play and count oblivious to my accuracies. After we ate dinner we had our Bon fire and he asked me if I noticed that I got them all right for the afternoon. (You have to understand how long it took me to catch 1 fish, never mind fill 3 exotic resorts of fish!!) I said noooooo I didn’t and started half giggling and crying at the same time. He said yes you did!! What are you talking about Dandan ? I never get it right. And he took me through the recall of filling all 3 forts. How did you fill all 3 if you didn’t count it correctly? Humpfff I thought to myself still half giggling and crying. I might be smart after all.

The next morning we played 1 fish 2 fish…I got it wrong a few times but it wasn’t that frustrating anymore because now I knew I could and have been correct. By the time we left the island I had made up a bazillion counting songs. I’m surprised my sister talks to me after listening to all those numbers for almost a week. By the time we left naked-ville I had conquered number 6 and 9 but I will always give props to Dandan for being persistent, constant and holy patient batman.

The best part: For the longest time when we saw each other we would whisper or mouth the numbers to each other. It was like our very own little secret.

That is the most in-detail memory I have with him. I can even see his hat and the orange folding chair he sat on day after day with his feet in the water at the shoreline. I can even picture him, the age he must of been at. When he got up from the chair his back had the lines from the horrible plastic stringy fabric on his chair. It’s amazing. It’s a memory that has never been lost on me. I’m sure my childhood feelings today, as an adult would translate to the acknowledgement of unconditional love from him and a feeling of accomplishment for me. Amazing.

He is missed a lot and often I think of them both. I’m fortunate to have had him in my life. It wasn’t because of blood linkage that brought him into my life. Was it luck? The stars lining up? Whatever it was, it is obvious I needed him.

My goal in life is to leave a print of the same magnitude on my own children. I’m still working on it.

Sex Sells Houses

Or does it

Warning: R rated. Some language and sexual references may offend.

Don’t complain to me if you don’t like the language, you’ve been warned….

I was driving to an appointment the other day on a busy highway, the QEW. The QEW runs from Niagara Falls border of the USA and Canada, to the heart of Ontario, Toronto. I notice a sign that says ‘Our Homes Are Pretty Sexy, Too”. The WTF light bulb was flashing as I was looking for the next exit. In my head, like usual, a bomb has gone off. I drove off the next exit and drove to the sign and took a picture, I have to send this to my friend, we’ll rant for hours later. Luckily for the builder, there wasn’t an immediate number on their roadside sex billboard or they would of gotten a phone call on the spot. Not that he would of cared, but I would of felt better.

The whole way to my appointment I was ranting in my head about how offensive this sign is to my sensibilities as a parent, as a neighbour and as an intelligent professional business woman. But, I ask myself, is it offensive to others? I always try and follow some logic and I know that just because I’m offended doesn’t mean I’m right. I’d like to note the grammar has annoyed me greatly in that statement. Why the comma after sexy? Not that I have perfect grammar but I’m not on a billboard at the side of the business highway promoting sexy houses.

Of course when I was at home later I showed Einstein. He chuckled and I caught a small roll of his eyes. He knew where this was going. In a deep dark zone where he won’t be allowed out until I say so.

In my best, I’m shocked tone, I said to him ‘can you believe this?’
He said ‘you can’t be shocked. I won’t allow it.’
Hmmmm I thought. That’s an unusual response from him. ‘Go on’ I said.
He continued with ‘sex apparently sells anything. Sexual innuendos are everywhere. You can pretend to be shocked but maybe you should be disgruntled or angry instead.’
‘Good point’ I said. ‘Seriously though, the side of the QEW and we need sex to sell houses now?’
In his usual calm and easiness, he responds with ‘Let’s face it, if she had a dick in her mouth the men would be grabbing their wives and the lineup would be down the road’
‘Really Einstein, this is where we are going to go with this?’ I respond with a small chuckle. He’s getting cheeky in his old age and I might like the competition.
He said ‘I don’t make the rules, I just sit back and observe them. Let’s look at fifty shades of grey. Every horny house wife in North America read her little books full of porn and are now watching it at the theatres on the large screen and you think anyone is going to notice that sign and read into like you are?’

Hmmm. My wheels are turning. Maybe I’m the only one that this has offended. Maybe I just look for things to piss me off. Ok, so do I need to rethink my position here? After all, I read Fifty Shades of Grey. Am I any better than the signs creator?

I have rethought many times and even drove past the sign again a few times. I’m still where I was in the beginning; It simply inappropriate by my standards.

So let’s discuss why this is so wrong and yet so smart. Let’s get the most frustrating over with first; Why they are smart in their advertising.

Obviously sex sells. It is proven. That’s why it’s smart. If sex didn’t sell, why would anyone waste their time and it wouldn’t be money well spent. Sex sells. Starting at the sex trade industry all the way to selling houses, apparently. In general, we are a society that is sold on appearances and sexual images. It’s just where we seem to have ended up. For now. I do think there is a small shift in motion against this advertising as we are slowly recognizing the implications. It’s in TV shows, commercials, movies, and basically most advertising has dipped into sex in some form at some time on some level. This, of course, does not include every company/person, I know this, but I believe I do speak of a large majority in today’s world.

For instance, video games that are marketed to our kids and youth have women characters dressed in sexy provocative clothing with their waists ridiculously small, butts bubbly, perfectly trimmed thighs and big boobs budging out of their skimpy tops. Necessary? I personally find that image so far fetched it’s embarrassing for it to be associated with females. But that’s me…Wound a little tight sometimes.

Have you seen Barbies clothes? I wouldn’t want my child dressed in any of Barbies wardrobe. My daughter did play with Barbie. Excuse me while I pat my back with that wonderful parental choice. (Dripping with Sarcasm). Thankfully the desire for lack of clothing was not an issue ever. Phew. It’s all in the parenting and the role modelling we as parents do.

We have clothing, shoe and accessory manufacturers that will show a make believe couple in a poster or commercial, in a sexual pose, could be nose to nose or cheek to cheek while wearing their items that are for sale. They aren’t nose to nose to smell each other’s breath, it’s the anticipation of the kiss that never happens, but our minds have already envisioned it. The brand has implied a sexual state. So if I wear those items/brand I will find my handsome Prince Charming and be forever sexy Sandy while wearing them? Is that the message that is suppose to entice me to purchase? I wear clothes (thank me later) and I also wear most of the brands that promote items with some form of sex at some point. But trust me, it isn’t because I intend to look sexy or acknowledge the brand has a sexual influence on who I am. I make my choices aware of the marketing behind it. I know by me buying I support the marketing behind it. I’m aware. And I struggle with my own boundaries etc., often. But my community has asked me to remain clothed. What are my options?

Billboards with underwear models. Male and female. I get underwear is well, underwear, and to see it must be, well, worn as underwear, but do we really need to be convinced to buy underwear? I’ll admit I’ve visually enjoyed a male underwear billboard. Thank you Beckham. I’m a hypocrite. I know I know.

Sexy voluptuous lips sell a certain brand of lipstick. Duck season. That’s all I’m saying with this one.

Perfumes that compete for the sexist scent can imply you’re irresistible and will get your funk only if you smell that good.

A store called ‘Pink’ that I recently noticed, has very skimpy clothing that has sizes very small, able to dress children in their elementary school years. Let’s start ’em young? The conditioning. The brand Pink is also synonymous to sexy advertising, so if you’re wearing a ‘pink’ brand item what does it mean? You’re sexy? The posters on their store windows are offensive to me. I’ve actually told them they are shameful for using such young girls in their posters but ranting to the young under dressed sales girls is only letting everyone in on my secret; I’m crazy. However, not all Pinks clothing is short coming with coverage, but the branding on their products is enormous in view. So what message is to be relayed if you’re wearing a pair of sweats from the Pink brand with Pink in huge letters written across the butt. Is it just any other brand, let’s say like Roots, or can the clothing you are wearing associated with the marketing behind it? I would think it is evaluated on individual cases, but if we are attempting to make our children ‘sexy’ we are drastically, morally deficient as a society.

Side note: did you know if you accidentally hit the key beside P for Pink you get Oink?

Of course this is just a few examples … People can add thousands of other examples but I don’t think I need to here. Hopefully my point is being understood.

But just in case I need to drive home the sex selling, let me rant about one more thing. I most recently was at a car show in Toronto. They had female models for the vehicles on display (the vehicles not accessible to the public for up close viewing), and only female models I’d like to point out, that were dressed to appeal to men’s sex appeal. You can’t tell me I’m wrong on this. Why else are the only female models in short skirts, excessive make up and hair spray, skimpy tops and excessively high heels for 12 hours a day. I can and will assume they are selling the sex appeal because as you looked at the female sales reps (very few unfortunately) they are in business suits, nothing bulging out of anywhere and are dressed in classy attire. They are dressed for a different purpose; for respect. Respect of the knowledge they have for the vehicles in a mans industry. So the message sent to me is, if you want a knowledgable sales rep who happens to be female and can trust/respect what comes out of their mouth, she needs to be dressed business appropriate and with classy attire, not the imagery of the models present. Even that is horrible wrong. The models are likely just as smart and intelligent and most definitely, someone’s daughter. Why do clothes present 2 different levels of respect and perception. Ugh. That’s a whole other blog write. Anyways, back on track. If you want to gawk and fantasize about some hot chick in your new sport vehicle beside you, it’s the sexy scantily clad models, not the sales rep in her business suit. What if I want to buy that sports car? Where’s my sexy male model with sock in his jock position perfectly? Pfffft. Please. It’s insulting for the car industry to think it only needs to appeal to the male consumers. I drive and every female I know under the age of 70 drives. Maybe the car industry already knows women don’t need dick appeal to be capable of making a decision.

Back to the billboard in question. Does society demand or require sex to motivate us to buy a house? Is it appropriate for a home builder to associated his/her price tag with sex? Here you go consumers, you get to over pay for this home brand because it is sexy. Logical? NO. Absolutely not. Does this mean if we buy this house, will have a better sex life because my house will be built more sexy? WTF. Do you know how stupid it is to even have to write that last sentence? How does one build a sexy house anyways? Tow hooks above the headboard in the master bedroom to hook up the confined partner? An in-wall safe to lock up all your fifty shades of grey tools? Or a sound proof room with steel doors etc., for your Christian Grey and Anastasia encounters? Exactly how do you build a sexier house than the next home builder? I think I should visit a model home and torment that sales reps. I’m good that way.

Other builders advertisings have families in beautifully landscaped parks, watching a movie in their professionally decorated family rooms…a glorious perfect family image with no dysfunction (haha), washing their cars in their driveways, unloading groceries etc., doing practical family things for their advertising and literature. Dicenzo Homes has chosen to sell sex instead of the luxury home with a perfect family portrait or a preferable living community. Choose us and pay $600,000 + for your very own sexy house. I wonder if that sign has deterred anyone else who potentially would of like to live in that area. I wish there was a way I could find out.

.I absolutely can’t wait to check out the neighbourhood when the development is done. I’ll be sitting there like the stalker I can be, with my latte checking it all out. Probably from the curb side as it doesn’t look like parks are appropriate for sex fiestas. I’m also pretty confident there won’t be any feminists and/or their families living in that development.

Rocking The Cool Boat

Saturday I was busy racking up bonus points to win mother of the year award. (I usually operate in the negative but this brought me closer to a positive point system)

Auto Show. Fifteen year old son. Need I say more?

Once I got over the fear of a horrible germ death when this elderly man was hacking up a storm sitting ACROSS from my on the Go Train, telling myself repetitively I can double up on oregano when I get home to kill all the germs I was forced to inhaled, I was able to relax and settle in for a long day.

I went with absolutely no time agenda. We could of stayed until they shut the lights off and it would of been fine with me. We did a complete round then a second round to revisit the favourites. It’s a huge facility and more people than I’d like to come into contact with in my lifetime. But Saturday wasn’t about me. It was about my little man being in his element and knowing more about Cummings Diesel engines then some of the young sales reps; it was about him showing me shocks and engine sizes and towing capacity. I love it.

He didn’t work that day (he’s a work-a-holic in the making) with his Dad (we have our own small construction company) and he typically works every weekend and after school. I talk to him, often, about being his age and doing age appropriate things. He prefers to always work, works his energy off (ADHD) and keeps him on the straight and narrow. He’s a busy young man. A very disciplined 15 year old who is appreciated and respected on job sites. I do worry that when he is 30 he’s going to wonder where his youth went. I’m glad we went together. I got to see him be 15. Best part of my day? All of it. Even if I had to be hacked all over by the General public.

Weird he takes his mom to this stuff? Nope. Not at all. This mom rocks the cool boat!