We got flooded at Thanksgiving last year and then we had bronchitis and other family disasters at Christmas time. We've endured a lot of complicated living situations and crud, so I figured a really fun Easter might turn things around. I was prepared; I had the eggs, the Easter baskets, enough chocolate to put us all in a diabetic coma, adorable Easter cards made and photos taken.
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It's time for another Blogging Celebrity Interview! This week's interviewee comes to us from Canada, the land of Eskimos, Sasquatch and maple syrup. Roller Giraffe may be one of my favorite persons ever - and I'm not just saying that. (I'm saying it because she said the same thing about me on my Birthday. Well, actually she used the word…
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My great uncle Norman owned a cattle ranch out near Elkwater, where my dad spent a lot of his days as a young boy riding horses and exploring. Uncle Norm spent his whole life building up the ranch and figuring out the best way to make millions. None of us could ever really figure out why, as he lived fairly simply rarely buying himself new clothes, driving second-hand vehicles and eating at cheap restaurants.
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It’s November, yo! The time when you were likely to grow facial hair anyway because it’s freaking cold outside and you can’t find your balaclava. So why not put your money where your mustache is and blog for Movember? Raise some cash for dudes, their prostates, and their mental health.
From the American Mustache Institute Style Guide. For real.
Go to A Clown on Fire to learn more about Bloggers for Movember.
Most importantly, remember to DONATE. Or grow a mustache. Or just generally be awesome about getting a prostate exam. All these things are going to get you laid, guys. I promise. By someone. I am pretty sure. Don’t hold me to that. I can’t be responsible for that kind of thing.
I am going to plan Friday posts about men’s issues for the rest of Movember. If you have any suggestions or anything topical, please send it my way.
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There are generally five food groups of High Fructose Corn Syrup solids at Halloween. For a successful holiday, you should carry a well-rounded supply for different audiences. They are categorized as follows:
Traditional
My shameful Nestle Canadian chocolate. This will not appear familiar to you in America.
This includes your good, classic chocolate bars, chips, and such. May include Tootsie rolls depending on whether you think they’re a form of torture or not. These are your go-to candy and will be the ones that will mysteriously be deemed unacceptable for consumption during parental candy checks but not thrown in the garbage. If giving these at Halloween, make sure they land in the bags of other parents you like. Super extra bonus points for full-sized chocolate bars.
New-fangled
Pomegranate pop-rocks. This is the best I could do. I am never going to find my way into the hip mom category.
This category includes any product that appeared after 1989, which is when I retired from trick or treating at a very advanced age. By that point I was just stocking up on PMS supplies.
New-fangled candies are an acquired taste, and often hit or miss. They might be organic or fair trade. They’re definitely anything that’s got pomegranate or acai berry flavour. Give them to your cool new neighbor that you’re trying to impress with your hipness. Their kid will be dressed in a homemade Etsy owl costume made of hand washed felt and their mom is trailing around behind them in her Toms live tweeting their Halloween adventure for charity. YOU WANT TO BE HER.
Disappointing
Or you could make fake teeth out of them next year.
Caramilks. Jersey Milks. Dairy Milks. Anything with “milks” in the title. Candy corn. Most nondescript hard candy. These will float to the bottom of the pillowcase and be consumed in the desperate weeks before Easter. Give those to the kids who don’t try very hard. They shouldn’t be rewarded for lack of enthusiasm.
Punishment
No explanation required.
Raisins.
And toothbrushes. Reserved for small children whose parents won’t let them eat candy. Hell, just give those kids a $20 bill on the down low. They’re suffering.
Nostalgic, but Possibly unethical
Shade of pink not even found in Pantone.
This is mostly reserved for unruly teenagers and those damn kids who keep hanging around on your lawn. It is nostalgic because they stopped making it because it tastes gross. And might be slightly radioactive. It is definitely made with lead or something.
You risk getting your house egged though, so you’re going to need one of those nondescript goody bags to hide it in and hope they forget which house it came from. Maybe write the wrong address on the bag as a decoy. Maybe write the address of that shitty neighbor who keeps you up all night with the yappy dog and fireworks. I am not admitting that this might happen.
Center is possibly toxic when it comes in contact with sunlight.
Note: If you run out of the New-Fangled category you can always fall back on the nostalgia factor of this category to impress your cool new neighbors.
Where does your favourite candy fit in on the Halloween Candy Pyramid? Do you still hand out Unicef pennies?
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We just celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving here (or as we call it, Thanksgiving). I bet you didn't know that was a thing, did you, America? We have more in common than you think. For example, well, umm.. we all hate Nickelback! That's one thing I have learned from Canadica so far; everyone hates Nickelback. Except for those millions of people who keep buying their albums.
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A few years back, I was invited to join the Movember Digital Challenge - led by Canadian social media maverick Sean Moffitt, and Movember co-founder Adam Garone - as the Montreal chapter's captain. Our mission was simple: to create a buzz and raise awareness/money on the digital networks for the fight against prostate cancer. The initiative was a smashing success: …
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I just got back from a weekend of total debauchery genteel jazz music, wine tasting, spa, and very little internet. It was magic. We flew in to San Francisco and drove down the coast for our annual pilgrimage to the Monterey Jazz Festival, this time with three of our best friends in tow.
While we were waiting for our plane we witnessed one of those beautiful moments in life. There was a lady celebrating her seventieth birthday, and five of her sisters, along with an assortment of neices surprised her at the airport and were all going on the trip with her. She was ecstatic; the surprise was a total success. Everyone on the plane was feeling revelatory.
The flight was not without drama. The attendants were mostly on call for the sisters, who were apparently attempting to break some sort of drinking record. There was a medical emergency when one of them ran short of breath from all the excitement. Then something went weird with the plane and we had to abort the landing and circle around San Francisco until we went down for a bumpy landing met with EMS and air field security.
Everyone broke out into applause when we landed. At least those of us who weren’t throwing up or busy cracking out the valium. We were feeling a bit giddy from escaping death (that might be a bit of a hyperbole, but in my mind we were only moments away from being a national tragedy), the general euphoria of a vacation ahead of us, and witnessing the family reunion.
So when yet another sister was waiting for the sisters at the luggage carousel, it was just too much. Everyone was in tears. Mr. Giraffe approached them to tell them how touched we all were watching this beautiful day unfold. As he made his way over the birthday girl yelled “Oh my god, you guys hired a stripper too!”
He’s probably hot enough to be a stripper, but not the lewd one of the bunch. Also, not sure the broads would like the white guy punching dance.
My inner broad was doing a slow clap with a cigarette hanging out the corner of my mouth. Bravo ladies, you give me hope. And I think the least Mr. Giraffe could have done was take his shirt off.
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Madame Weebles is up in a blogging duel today. She sees dead people. She has a nice rack. She loves kitties. Who wouldn’t vote for someone with that list of qualities? She should be the damn president. Click on over and like her post right now. Fear the Weebs, El Guapo, fear the Weebs.
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Duel #1: Speaker7 VS Ginger Snaap.
Ginger Snaap's post: Tears of a Clown, Part One: Duel of Furry Fetishes
UPDATE: Winner of round one: Speaker7.
******************
Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
A: It was trying to get away from a furry.
I come to this blog duel with a bit of a disadvantage.
First, I had no idea what a furry fetish was until two days ago.
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