Just in time for our last day on Earth...

Approximately two thousand and thirteen things I have learned:

-If you hate your job, leave it. If you can't leave right away, ask somebody you trust to hold you accountable to work towards leaving. Time wasted is time wasted. It's absolutely nothing else.

- If you order $40.00 worth of Indian food, it will last you for about 4 dinners. It will also make your bum a bit bigger. Could be a good or bad thing, depending on your aim.

-Anybody who waits around until the end of your time together to be honest with you, isn't worth feeling shitty over. Vulnerability is scary, but if you're gonna be in a scary place for another person they sure as hell better go there with you.

-A cat will always try to get an extra meal out of you. They are social parasites who know how to cry like infants (and as a childless woman, I will cave every single damn time).

-Your family will love you when you are at your best. They will also somehow find a way to love you when you are curled up in an anger ball, wishing the couch had a yuletide-free shield around it. Be kind.

-Stop typing that text. You're intoxicated and it's 3am.

-Throw your socks with holes in them in the garbage. What are you clinging so fiercely to, anyway?

-Stop wasting your money on 3D movies. They're not better. AVX, maybe. Fuck 3D everything.

-Take some time every day to make yourself aware of what's going on in the world outside of the city you live in. Rob Ford is not allowed to be your biggest historical takeaway from this year. The excuse that 'world news depresses you' is as shoddy as that toe-less sock.

-Tip people. Honestly. It's not about "karma", it's about recognizing that if you can afford to patronize the services of somebody making a very low wage, you should also be able to show that you appreciate the work they do. Tips help pay peoples' rent; they get their clothes washed; they matter.

-Every minute you spend reading crummy 'journalism' about somebody you'll never meet who has absolutely no affect on your progress as a human in any way whatsoever, will actually stunt your progress as a human. This one is tough because the junk we ingest with our eyes and minds is so much more delicious than the fantastic reality we could be cooking up for ourselves. I struggle with it daily.

-Never, ever take your good/medium/acceptable health for granted. Getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom in the middle of the night isn't as easy for everybody as it is for you. Stop pretending that you can subsist on cigarettes and vodka because your great-grandfather rocked it so well. We have science now, and your g-pa was just lucky.

-Don't let a list that somebody writes in an extremely little-known blog dictate or influence your decisions. Think for yourself, find whatever feels like it's missing, improve whatever feels like it's lacking. If you're happy with the balance you've struck, I raise my glass to you.

Chomps

D'you like it? It's 'McDonald's arches gold'!

Hey gang! What's up?

Weather's cray on my end in Toronto, weather's cray on the guys' end in St. Catharines. Love to our family and friends who are being rained upon, flooded out, blown around and generally bothered by this wrath of Mama Nature.

I was cruising Pinterest tonight like a stereotypical female in her mid (to late) 20s on a Monday, watching Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho with my roomie, and I was reminded of this, for approximately the kwillionth time.

 Recognize this colour?

Tiffany Blue? Robin's egg blue? Sky-unaffected-by-hurricane-Sandy blue? 

Fellow facebook friends, pinners and valued members of our brand-obsessed society, this is our friend turquoise. Your preferred wedding colour scheme or accent on a plethora of non-Tiffany made accessories is turquoise. There's nothing wrong with that, either! It will look lovely with your gowns, tuxes, et cetera, and everyone will tell you what a lovely party planner you are. Heck, it looks great with the rhinestones on the watch you bought at that weird convenience store that also cuts keys and has those weird birdcages with the bird robots inside of them. But it's turquoise.

Not too far from seafoam green, and just down the road from teal. I'm just trying to change the world in big ways that matter, one irksome misnomer at a time.

Lurv,
Chomps

Levi Strauss is rolling in his grave.

Ladies, ladies, ladies.

Can we talk? Can we be 'real' with each other?

 What's the deal here?

"that one part of my side-thigh gets way colder than the rest of my thigh though!"

These jean-shorts are hurting us. I am a steadfast fan of the cut-off but I can no longer stand idly by while you people fudge everything up with your ignorance to the fact that this does not compliment ANY woman's widest area (small, medium, extra-medium or large) in any fathomable way. This is the UGG of my summer. You are all beautifully clad in well-pressed button ups or sheer flowing blouses with impeccable accessories, but when I scan to admire the rest of your fashion choices I am left wanting to cry into the two half kleenexes sticking out of your leg-holes. NO WAIT, THOSE ARE POCKETS. What are they for again? To conceal items that you'd like to keep close at hand? How novel.

It's unacceptable. Rectify it immediately. Your strappy sandals and wedges and cutesy pedicures still look fab though.

to all of us who represent the company...

Hey friends! We haven't shot the breeze in at least two months. This is partially because I have no idea in what manner one should shoot breeze. Bullets keep flying right through it and I'm never sure if I'm doing it right. Vat of jello, fine. Kiddy pool full of guacamole, ok. Then we'd have something to shoot stuff at as well as conversate about. Yes, I just said conversate.

Check out the site this weekend, there are amazing treasures to behold for half the price, starting February 17th.

Thanks to a friend who knows what's what (who wrote a book; go get it because it's one of my favourites of 2011), I found this guy named Guante today. It's not a HUUUUGE secret that I spend about 32+ hours of my week serving the general public of Toronto a certain type of beverage with a certain popular symbol stamped on a certain kind of partially-recyclable cup. I have spent the last 4 years of my life doing this in some capacity, and prior to that (throughout high school, university and college) I was serving the general public of St. Catharines as a cashier at a grocery store.

People have been telling me for years that it takes a 'certain kind of person' to stay in a customer service or retail job. They're right. We are the perfect combination of friendly, over-achieving, pacifistic problem-solvers. We apologize when it's not even close to being our fault, we smile when we want to strangle you, and we pretend it doesn't bother us when you decide you're in the mood to pretend like we're not human beings. I have a ton of friends, loved ones, and a mother that work to make people with no manners happy on a daily basis. What they do (and what I do) matters to me, a lot. Just so you know.

I liked this.

When Secret Santa Simply Won't Do. Cuz Boys Are Stupid.

Chompstain's Log, 11:14am on Wednesday December 28th, 2011.

That reads like 'chomp stain.' I do not like it. Some new words were never meant to be coined.

Dear Diary,

This has been a really great year. I can't wait for Christmas when all of us get together around the yule-thing and sing something-carols about non-denominational babies who were conceived questionably. We're playing this game called Yankee Swap. You may or may not have seen an episode of The Office, Season 1, wherein the employees partake in an ill-thought out gift robbery that originally started out as a Secret Santa. Pam comes to her senses in the end and gets her teapot back.

I'm not really a White Elephant kind of girl, but because some of the guys are hitters and I don't really feel like entering the Octagon this holiday season, I'm going to acquiesce.

Things I Am Probably Going to Buy for Yankee Swap (we have to shoot for approximately $15.00)

1. Hair elastics - the ones that will go in even short hair. Serves them right. They wanted to play Yankee Swap and now they've gotta use this gift. Have fun looking like that one dude from The Prodigy.

2. Two chocolate pudding cups - because it's Christmas, and I've got a heart.

3. Mistletoe - nobody knows what it actually looks like because people get it confused with holly. Someone will probably throw it in the salad thinking that a piece of arugula went astray. It looks nothing like arugula either, but I bet you don't know what arugula looks like, Diary.

4. Creepy head scratcher thing that Andrew has. - Not buying this for anyone. Stealing it in order to get rid of it because it's like a futuristic alien fingernail-claw and it makes me uncomfortable. It's also clearly what everyone's parents were talking about when they said "it's all fun and head-scratchy til' someone loses an eye." TAKE IT. TAKE IT AWAY.

I'm not a monster, I'll give him a different one instead. HAHA! Look at that thing! Does it double as a lawn-mower?

5. A three dollar Amazon.ca gift card. - this will cover somebody's annoying S&H costs. Maybe.

6. Neon orange Bic lighter - It's sitting on my nightstand for some reason, and I don't really need it right now. Hopefully whoever gets it will let me borrow it when the time comes.

7. One tea light - This way the receiver doesn't have to commit to a legitimate candle that they may or may not use regularly to make the burning time worthwhile. An unused candle functions as nothing more than a dust collector, but a tea light only burns for like three hours and it's SUPER easy to throw out with the rest of the crappy gifts I've put together in this list. It also necessitates the bic lighter. I AM AN EFFICIENT GIFT-GIVER.

8. Creamy Garlic Dipping Sauce - Someone WILL use this. It's the most thoughtful thing so far.

9. Bag of penne rigate - Because I have one in my pantry. What's up.

10. A Kinder egg airplane that won't fly. Chocolate not included.

There, Diary. That entry took me about a week to write. Seven days to come up with ten crappy gifts. Forgive me, nine crappy gifts and one terrifying one.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Chomps

Top Ten Halloween 'Stumes

READY? LET'S GO.

10. House Fly - black turtleneck, black pants, black bra on your face. Bra must be of the under-wire variety. I haven't tested this out, but it FEELS successful as an idea. You need wings for this one too because otherwise you'll just end up looking like an underwear-sniffer.

9. Underwear Sniffer

8. a Quilt - there's two ways to go about this one. Step one: drape quilt over shoulders. Step two: find bed at party and use quilt to sleep under. People are gonna be jealous, you've got my blog-antee. That's a blog guarantee. It's worth almost nothing.

7. Occupy Wall Street - Carry a sign that reads 'we are the 99%', and when people ask you "the 99% of what?" you can say whatever you want! "The 99% of the AWESOME AT THIS PAAAAARTTYYYY!!!! WOOOOOO!" It might be insensitive, but so am I.

6. Drunken Mess - nobody ever thinks to go as this, and yet everybody always ends up as this. Can we cut out the middle man, por favor?

5. Shooting Star(s) - roman candles. Done.

4. Lord Voldemort - black cloak, white face make-up, roman candles. Done.

3. Amy Winehouse dressed as Steve Jobs dressed as Randy Savage.

2. Whatever your friend told you they were going as in secret because they didn't want anybody else to steal their idea. Unless theirs is something dumb. Don't go as anything dumb.

and the TOP 'STUME OF TWO THOUSAND AND ELEVENTYHUNDRED?

Bachelorette Party - Picture this: twelve to fourteen women carrying around penis straws, plastic leis and unbelievably ugly homemade t-shirts covered in each other's signatures. Pretend like you have NO IDEA what night it is. The commitment? One of you will barf twice in the washroom, one of you will get in a fight, and one of you will end the night in tears. WOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

HAPPY HALLOWIZZLE,

LOVE,

Chomps

We Don't Give an F, S my D, How Many Licks and other insightful track titles.

HAAAAAAAAI,

I'm gonna be straight up with youse. I, Chelsea 'Chomps' Maria 'Chip on my Shoulder' Freeman have been struggling with things of mid-sized importance to internet-write about.

Here's a list though:

Things and People That Should've Given Up Already:

1. This fuckin' thing. Did you barf in your mouth? I have been for years, just remembering that it exists. It's a geoduck. For starters it's pronounced ridiculously unlike how it's spelled. That makes me angry almost immediately. For seconders LOOK AT IT. It's my nightmare. It's what will rule the world eventually and it's probably what will take power FROM the robots.

2. Nicolas Cage (this one's for you, Bean): SERIOUSLY? The guy has one facial expression, and it's "My puppy just died because I fed it a steady diet of the movies I star in." David Schwimmer slides in pretty close but he had the good sense to typecast himself early on in his career with a crew of others who still somehow manage to warm my heart regardless of their syndication. Wanna fight me about Friends? Shit's good, so shut up. Actually, Nicolas was ssshmmaaaalright in Kick Ass. But remember how little you had to see his face? Exactly.

3. Lil Kim.

4. Bloggers. Right? I know.

5. Videos of baby animals. I've had enough. I've had enough of the bunnies, and the kittens, and the weird stories about hippopotamuses and tortoises forming life-long friendships. I've had enough of human babies too! What with their squishy faces when they eat pickles and the way they giggle because they don't have the good sense to hide their happiness on the inside.

aaaaaaaah GOTCHA! I love that stuff. You guys are turd-hearted esses of b's if you were like "FINALLY! Someone else says it!"

I'm not sayin' it. I'm not sayin' it at all.

lulz,

Chomps

Don't ask and you're probably still going to receive...cuz it's my day off.

HAAAAAAAAY!

I haven't verbed the noun 'blog' in liiike four weeks. Here are some reasons why:

1. Inspiration to yammer on about almost nothing in particular is fleeting.

2. Most of the inspired yammering I've been doing this summer is through my mouth on to unsuspecting friends and family. It occurs to me now that an online reader is less likely to walk away or slap me in the pie-hole so maybe it's better this way.

3. I'm busy! Okay? Enough with the texts and the phone calls and the other stuff that would happen if people were bothering me to write something. I've got sandwiches to eat and jokes to laugh at!

So there's all of those. Then there's the illicit stuff I can't tell you about because it would incriminate the company in its entirety and we'd have to offer up Ken's beard for bail money (because his chin follicles are genetically modified to produce a small portion of diamond dust in every burly facial strand) and probably sell Eric for a couple packs of cigarettes that we could hide the miniature pick-axes required to peck our way out of the dimly lit cell that we'd line with pin-ups of...of...Smurfette.

Smurfy, smurfy Smurfette. The first two adjectives were 'sexy' and 'easy'.

The above reason is slightly improbable, knowing that they'd never put a female in a prison cell with three other males. Or the same prison. Other than that it'd probably go down that way. Especially the Smurfette part.

I will tell you what's comin' up though. Our friend, my co-blogger and hetero life partner/confidante Mel Smith is getting married this month. I'll be standing up there with her while she makes some really amazing promises to her wonderful husband-to-be and then all of us are going to drink and eat until bail from Ken's chin becomes a very real ass-saving device once again. Keep in mind Andrew's coming as my date so please expect to see some photos of me trying to force feed him all of the foods he's allergic to. WHEN I *WEDDING-PARTY, I **WEDDING-PARTY HARD.

Other than that, have a ridiculously awesome Labour Dabour. Or Labor Dabor if you can't spell.

Chomps

*I've never been in a wedding party before so this statement is just anticipatory.

** Anticipatory WITH A CHANCE OF HARDNESS.

Conflict in the Workplace

Reporting to you live from my back deck on a dining room chair that is super uncomfortable. It's also not 'finished' properly so it's sticking to my back and I'm pretty sure varnish is somehow embedded in my skin. God I'm so hxc.

The title has nothing to do with problems I'm having at work. I was just sort of awkwardly mashing melba toasts and sweet potato dip into my mouth and I got to thinking about how we identify conflict based on location instead of based on people.

Basic Conflict Resolution Troubleshooting:

You're having a disagreement? First things first, WHERE are you?

Not: Is this person mentally unstable? Are they capable of biting you in the jugular?
Not: Who is this person to you? Loved one? Acquaintance? Unstable jugular-bitey crazy stranger?
Not: Is this person having a bad day, a bad week, a bad life?
Not: Is this person a lot like you?
Not: Is this person nothing like you?

I think we way too often choose to ignore the humanity in each other when we bump skulls, or fenders, or belief systems, or egos, or Blackberries, or whatever the fug people bump around with these days.

Consider what you have to defend. What you want to defend. Consider how the other person feels about these same things. Don't consider the walls that house you or the policies that prohibit you.

Something something cue warm fuzzies.

daaaaaaaaw,
Chomps

Accurate Biographies That Don't Require Any Fact-Checking

D'you guys know Eric, Ken and Andrew intimately?

Do you wish you did?

Take it back. That's gross.

I've got a few things to share. Some are naked photos, some are delightful anecdotes and choose-your-own-adventurey tales wherein you the reader will probably feel a wide range of emotions (greatest of which being love) as you soak in what I knowz about these guys.

Let's start with Eric. I met Eric some twenty-seven years ago working at the anvil factory in Western Hill, St. Catharines. It was probably about 3:53pm and my workmates and I were just about to take the faulty anvils over to the aforementioned Hill for a good roll-about when a lanky yet somehow still incredibly muscular man approached me with what looked uncannily like a tire iron and a dead ferret. Though the objects were 'unrelated' to one another I had a pretty good feeling about this guy's jib and the cut it originated from. That summer we didn't tire iron at least sixty ferrets to death. We didn't learn taxidermy either so I'm hard-pressed to explain where my lifeless weasel army came from.

Ken. Keeeeen, Keeeen, Keeen, Keen, Ken. Kn. I don't know if anyone's familiar with the actual terrain between Sneaky Dee's at College and Bathurst and the intersection of Queen and Coxwell, but this year there was a night of nachos and other demi-cooked Mexican-ish foods that started with a loud proclamation like "THIS IS THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!" and ended with our beloved hero walking the approximate 8 km back to the hotel, terrifying locals with his surly gait and threatening facial hair. We lost Ken for a solid couple of hours but were mostly not worried because his ape-like skull usually bounces right off of hard surfaces, and the Don Valley Bridge is pretty sturdy from what I hear.

Lastly but never leastly there's Andrew. The man who made me guess what his middle name was for nearly eight solid days and nights because he made up a "ten guesses at a time" rule. The man whose caveman diet has basically transformed any of his refined habits into grunting and striking small animals (and women who talk back) with wooden/stone composite modernized (possibly also galvanized?) cave-people clubs. It took me at least five minutes to remember that cave-people used clubs. I kept wanting to say bats, which is coincidental because Andrew's also the guy who Babe Ruth was pointing to on October 1st, 1932 when he called his own home run. Up til' now y'all probably thought he was pointing at a seagull or a futuristic (to the folks at the time) blimp. NOPE. ANDREW.

World Series trivia aside, anybody would be lucky to have these dudes in their life. Send them e-mails! Tell them you feel the same way! Wear protective headgear around ALL of them. You think I'm joking but I've never been more morbidly serious.

Be careful.

Chomps

I'll serve your industry. Right in the face.

What to do when you, the consumer have decided to enter an LCBO on the Thursday night before a long weekend:

Do expect there to be a long wait in line. It's an LCBO on a Thursday night before a long weekend.

Do NOT huff and puff behind me when you realize you chose the 'slow' line. THIS JUST IN, D-NOZZLE: YOU CAN GO STAND IN WHAT YOU CONSIDER TO BE THE FAST LINE. We are not bound by our decisions about line-standing. We are not caged in by these choices and I don't actually like that I can feel your breath on my neck.

Do have friendly pre-Canada Day conversation with your fellow line bystanders.

Do NOT try to win people over to your side by saying that the cashiers have their hands up their asses because people who got in a different line after you have already left the store. Also, see previous DO NOT statement. Also, see previous statement about it being the Thursday night at the LCBO before a long weekend.

DO ALWAYS, ALWAYS remember that there are human beings who are standing twenty feet away ringing up your merchandise. They have beating hearts, they have families, feelings, homes that they're heading to after they deal with the mass of Torontonians try'nna get their drink on. You may be a blip on their radar but you sure as shit aren't considering that I'm in front of you and I don't have to treat you with excellent customer service today.

DO feel like an idiot after I tell you to have some compassion for people. DO feel stupid after you tell me that you used to work in the service industry and after I tell you how sure I am that people must have loooved you.

DO drink responsibly and DO have a good long weekend.

Do NOT eff with me.

LOVE!
Chomps

titular title to tittilate your...senses.

firstthingsfirst,

I’ve got an Americano in my system and I’m about as grounded as a ring-tailed lemur, so don’t interrupt or I’ll lose my train of thought and the marsupial shit will hit the fan.

Don’t know if all y’all have seen the new stuff available on the site. Go see it.

The crywolf show at the Gladdy was fantastic. Gallery was beautiful yet understated, the prizes were awesome, the büs designed by various artists (including our boys) were all so vastly different from each other; it was a true testament to creativity. Waytogo crywolf women. A personal favourite was Biggie Bü (you can find him in the photos).

S.C.E.N.E next week. I have previously instructed you to go see the new stuff. If you have chosen to not heed my advice and would prefer to feel the holy cloth beneath your fingertips, come see us next Sunday. I’ll make out with OR high five you , choose your side.

I forget what else. Go getche-self a table on a patio somewhere tonight. Toast the deities of summer and remember to ask for moist towelettes with your saucy wings.

YEE YEE,
Chomps

brain Fry-day

Posting something once a week is proving itself challenging. I am nowhere near interesting enough; proof in the pudding being that my last tweet was about eating chicken biryani and being on facebook, ps. add me @chompsy.

Funny things that strangers did this week:

1. Some dude ordered a hot, cold, espresso without coffee from me. I'm not making that up.

2. A girl with a backpack that would've rivalled the slope of Quasimodo's hunch was standing diRECTLY in the middle of the streetcar aisle yesterday morning. She saw more people hopping on and then proceeded to back up further into the way. I said some things I'm not proud of, but God willing our paths won't ever have to cross unless I'm in the bell tower one of these days.

3. A woman we've never met before made sure to tell us "she couldn't stay any longer" when getting up to leave the movie theatre thirty minutes into a film.

4. Leaving my house in the am on an old man's t-shirt: "in my head I'm giving you the middle finger." It's like he took the words straight from that hole where my heart used to be that's presently filled with dry pine needles and vinegar, and put it on as clothes instead. Bless.

5. Balloon, the cat who lives in the basement apartment below me (not really a stranger) couldn't find the treat in my hand today because he has one eye and no depth perception. HA! Cute, sad AND hilarious.

Bon weekend mes amis! We're gonna be at the Gladstone Hotel tomorrow night for a little gallery event hosted by the fine ladies at crywolf from 7pm til probably the end of time (because time will cease to exist when that much awesome gets together). Party with us during, party with us after. It makes no difference to me.

K, but no seriously come.

Love you miss you,

Chomps

CATS, THEN MOVIES

While the men of Pause are bonding in the fortress of doom, my 8x10 juicebox in Parkdale is bumpin' to the tune of Entourage, Season 4. Jeremy Piven may be a little man with a huge douchey Napolean complex, but sweet baby Jeebus it's a ComplexILF. That acronym translates into something you'd think I'd be embarrassed for my Mom to read, but she totally gets me so it's ok.

I've been pretty listy lately, and I see no particular reason to ruin an organized thing. The trouble lies in the subject matter. Lo and behold...

Things to Write a List-Blog About:

1. Ways That Kristen Wiig Has Made My Life Better - TARGET LADY? PENELOPE? SUZE ORMAN? That blog would friggen rule and also include so many amazing clips wherein her voice would do things that mine only aspires to do and falls short of.

2. Great First Dates - this one would start with romance, good, cheap food around the city, and end with a really great story about how I got a Boner City tattoo. Don't believe me? Good.

3. Early-Late 90's Television and How It Shaped My Opinion of Healthy Relationships - This one would include Neve Campbell's abusive situation with Jeremy London on Po5. They also both had the exact same haircut; that alone seems painful enough. Julia and Griffin's beat-down drama aside, this blog would also include heavy hitters like Pacey Witter and Joey Potter, Steve and DJ from Full House, and lest we forget Doug and Patty Mayonnaise. Yeah, I said it.

4. Ways That Cats are Better Than Dogs - I don't need a list for this one. Shit's just true.

5. Favourite List Blogs: I only know of one sweet SWEET one. http://www.tenthingsivelearned.com . You're gonna love it or you don't even know anything about anything anyway.


Night guys.

Chomps

slush pants

It's the end of May. We Southern Ontarians just experienced our first almost picture-perfect weekend. We've all been out of the house, cutting the lawn, walkin' the cat, etc. etc. Here's some other stuff I like to do.

1. Go to the zoo - I feel like a trip to the zoo could be controversial if you're a person who would rather see animals in their 'natural habitat', but a lot of fun for people who have come to terms with reality and know that they're probably never going to travel to the Himalayas to catch this little guy in action. I had never seen a rhinoceros before, I couldn't afford a trip to Africa, guess where I went? Scarborough, ON. Yes, it can be sad to see anything exist in captivity (and please, don't go to Marineland) but if you can't get past it, start saving for that overseas safari. I'm not going to list 'safari in Africa' as things to do this summer, because I'm pretty sure your odds are good of hitting a warm, dry season outside of our four month pocket.

2. Cedar Point - if you go to Canada's Wonderland every year and ride the fastest roller coaster like seven times just to avoid riding the ones that you know won't live up to your expectations, get four or five friends together, book a room in Sandusky and go to Cedar Point for two days. There are two or three different lodging options (I've always stayed at The Breakers), and if you stay on-site you get access to the park before e'erybody else does. It's not that I don't hear how much all y'all looooooove the Behemoth. It's just that the Behemoth sucks. There aren't any rides that suck at Cedar Point. None.

3. Take the train somewhere - Our railway system is pretty freakin' awesome. If you buy at the right time you can get last minute business class tickets along a lot of their major routes at reasonable prices. There's also a youth discount up to 25 years of age that I'm not sure many people know about. Get wild! Go to Moncton! (disclaimer: if there's nothing going on in Moncton, don't get mad at me. Just get back on the train and keep movin' east. Or make some noise in NB and change their reputation FOREVER.)

4. S.C.E.N.E Music Festival - my home town has a fairly awesomely reputed block party every year, wherein hundreds of bands (some Canadian, some travelling from afar) play at over ten different venues all within walking distance of each other. Beer flows like water, water flows to battle the dehydration. People usually ignore the latter. Pause'll be there. You should join us. http://www.scenemusicfestival.com . The other good news about outdoor concerts this year is that NXNE falls the week before S.C.E.N.E and it always guarantees a good time. LOOK!

5. The cheapest and often funnest (it's a word) suggestion - Welcome people into your home, yard, and life. Let's face it, if you were partying at somebody ELSE'S house they've been cleaning up after you. Odds are you've been a mess-leave-behinder for a lot of years now at the homesteads of many pool owners (both swimming, and table). Time to return the favour. Make some fruit juice popsicles and tell people to BYOB. No furniture? Tell people to BYOChairs. We've only got about 3 months and two weeks before we're zipping our jackets up to our chins and wishing we'd done more fun stuff over the summer. GET ON IT.

learning!

don't say this:

1. creamy - because it's disgusting.

2. tresses - because you're not a writer for YM magazine.

3. moist - because it sounds disgusting even if it isn't.

4. 'opposed to' without the 'as' (shout out to my homey C-Mac) - because that's not how English works. BEing opposed to something is one thing. For example, I am opposed to people making comparisons using the nonsensical phrase 'this, opposed to that.' Y'heard?

5. fuss-trated - because that's not an actual word.

Happy Thursday,

xoxo Chompz

"you ain't no weeble wobble!"

Guys, I dunno.

Does anyone else find 'not knowing' enTIREly frustrating? Did anyone else grow up constantly asking questions throughout scary movies while your best friends groaned and wondered why they even invited you to the 7:30pm showing of 'Bless the Child'? That movie was terrifying, by the way. And not just because of Kim Basinger's face. And not just because of Kim Basinger's face PLUS the fact that she would follow up with Eight Mile and somehow actually get good press for it.

(I saw Eight Mile in a theater in Midland, Ontario. I was the obnoxious seventeen-year-old laughing at the more dramatic parts, especially when Rabbit's mom -played by our aforementioned heroine- gets mad AND sad at the same time. Shit's hilarious.)

So wait, nobody else ever worried about being in the pool alone because of fresh-slash-chlorine-tolerant sharks? Is it weird that I've been talking about sharks a lot lately? Is it weird if a person THINKS a lot about squirrels but TALKS a lot about sharks?

Cuz if you think of how cute squirrels are, it makes perfect sense to ALWAYS think about them. In Toronto you can get just about any squirrel to come up to you if you make the right noise and ACT like you're holding a peanut. I feel like I'm pandering. Last thought on squirrels: how are they EVER fat?

Initially I had something insightful to say but sometimes it's just best to be honest when there's nothing but decade old glitter-glue and the theme song from Step by Step on repeat in your squirrel-food-sized brain.

Did that feel like five minutes you'll never get back? I'm counting it as a victory.


xo Chomps

I beseech thee...

Some of us watched our nightmares come true last night as a contemptuous shark-eyed Prime Minister found his way back into the safe loving arms of a nation who - based on pretty straightforward statistics - actually the-opposite-of-love him.

Some of us didn't watch it.

Some of us don't know what a shark is.

Please Canada. Before you vote, learn about sharks. It'll help in the future.

I'm going to send this off to Eric and hope he doesn't add a picture of a shark to it, because I really see no reason in making things easy for any of you. Type it in google images or go swim in the ocean, CAPISCE?

Chomps

I wish Topanga would just get over herself...

deep thoughts (throughout the years), not listed chronologically:

1. "...the washing machine's really loud right now. What if it's because the cat fell in? Oh god, I'M WASHING THE CAT. Should I get up and check? Wait, there she is."

2. "Ok so, if a vampire came in here and my neck was exposed he'd go straight for it. I have to find a way to cover my neck if he does get in, but sometimes the covers are so heavy if I'm under them and my face gets hot. But if I have to come up I might accidentally show my neck. I'm just going to sleep with the light on."

3. "That was in Mandarin or Japanese or maybe Cantonese but it sounded like English, so I must also know THAT language and maybe my brain is translating it directly into English because of some weird evolutionary talent that has skipped a bunch of generations or that maybe nobody else in my family will tell me about. Why would they be talking about asphalt?"

4. "If Nick Carter ever met me, I bet we could fall in love."

5. "If Justin Timberlake ever met me, and I was looking reaaaally good with one of my best outfits, I bet we could fall in love."

6. "If John Krasinski ever met me, and I made him laugh and my skin looked really healthy, I bet we could fall in love."

this one's for the lovers...of bread.

I ain't got shit to talk about.

That's never stopped me before though.

So it's Friday night, but I have to be up tomorrow morning for stupid o'clock which has determined this evening's line up:

1. two, count 'em TWO loads of laundry.
2. this episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
3. two Heinekens.

Before you get all Josie Grossie Loser stampy on my forehead, hear me out.

1) Every bra I own is going to be ZESTfully clean. If you don't think this is awesome, I don't even care. Because it beats all of your dirty bras by like a zillion.

2) THAT EPISODE OF FRESH PRINCE IS F*CKING AMAZING. Tatyana Ali is literally dressed like Peaches Geldof (who I hate, and so should you) but it's so much better because she's Ashley Banks and it's the 90's and seriously, imagine if you got to work on that show back then? How did anyone get any acting done? I'd have craft services provided beverages spraying out of my nose reg-u-lare-ly.

3) These are to accentuate the warm fuzzy happiness of both clean bras and remarking fondly on my childhood in front of the basement rec room tv that used to be encased in an immovable wooden dresser (remember those? my friend Nick had one up until last year, it was brilliant) with fake drawer handles. They are doing their job. The beers, I mean. Beers? Beer? I hate plural rules. Plurals?

Kloveyouguysbye

Chomps