Tuesday 24 December 2013
(Probably Politically Incorrect and/or Mildly Offensive) Christmas Fun Facts!
It’s the most wonderful time of the year again, boys and girls! LOL JK, my December thus far has consisted of back-to-back exams, overactive sweat glands whilst shopping for presents (a parka was a poor choice… as was milk) and three days without power or heat at home due to a HUGE ice storm. Seriously. What. The. Fuck. Needless to say, I’ve been feeling far less festive this year than I usually do during the holiday season. Normally I would have been skipping around the house doing my best Mariah-Carey-in-All-I-Want-For-Christmas-Is-You vocal impersonation all day every day for the past week, but frankly I’ve lost my motivation this year. But I’m not old and/or arthritic enough to be Scroogey, so earlier this evening I decided that something must be done in order to regain my spirit before The Big Day. Naturally, being the kind of gal that I am, I figured that the best way to accomplish this was to do what I do best: write things that I think are funny, spam the internet with them, and hope that like three people get a mild chuckle out of it. I decided to go with the classic format of “fun facts that I may or may not have made up” (okay, I made all of them up) and to make the focus of said facts CHRISTMAS! Is focusing only on Christmas politically incorrect? Probably. But do you know what would be more politically incorrect? Me trying to make up fun facts about holidays I know nothing about. Boom. Stick that in your candy cane and smoke it. I’m doing the world a favour, really! Alright, it’s go time. Grab yourself some eggnog and read on.
Christmas Fact #1: Mary and Joseph once appeared on an unreleased episode of Maury Povich. Joseph wasn’t all that surprised to discover that he wasn’t the father. He was, however, surprised to discover that his homie Tyrone was.
Christmas Fact #2: No child goes to sleep with visions of sugar plums dancing through their head on Christmas Eve, nor do any of them know what a sugar plum is. Heck, I don’t even know what a sugar plum is. Seriously. Someone please tell me.
Christmas Fact #3: 78% of carolers have no idea how to pronounce “Wenceslas”.
Christmas Fact #4: The traditional Christmas story makes it clear that the shepherds knew where to find Baby Jesus because they were guided by a choir of angels. However, the story neglects to mention that said angels were of the Victoria’s Secret variety and that the shepherds were only following them because… well, wouldn’t you?
Christmas Fact #5: A “Santa Claus” is a form of speech comprised entirely of red, white, and green letters.
Christmas Fact #6: Liquor sales increase exponentially during the holiday season. While it’s generally chalked up to the fact that people often give booze as a gift, in reality it’s due to people needing to be drunk in order to cope with their extended families for prolonged periods of time.
Christmas Fact #7: It is projected that by the year 2025, the phrase “Happy Holidays!” will be deemed politically incorrect and “Neutral Christmukwaamadiwali” will take its place.
Christmas Fact #8: Santa’s elves once unionized in order to protest unpaid overtime shifts during the weeks leading up to Christmas. It was the jolliest, most adorable strike ever!
Christmas Fact #9: Immediately after Joseph asked Mary what she thought they should name their son, she yelled out “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” because epidurals weren’t a thing back then and popping a kid out is a wee bit painful from what I hear. He misinterpreted her cry as her actual response, and the rest is history.
Christmas Fact #10: Everyone is afraid that they’ll unintentionally offend someone while singing the line “make the yuletide gay”.
Christmas Fact #11: On that note, there’s a made-for-TV movie called “Make the Yuletide Gay” about an out-and-proud college student wrestling with the decision of whether or not to reveal his true sexuality to his parents over the Christmas break. Yep. That’s a thing. And it’s not even porn!
Christmas Fact #12: Many religious historians are quick to point out that Jesus’ birthday wasn’t even in the winter. Everyone else is quick to point out that literally no one gives a shit.
Christmas Fact #13: The real reason the Grinch’s heart grew so damn big is because he listened to Michael Buble’s Christmas album. Man, that guy can SING.
Christmas Fact #14: Contrary to popular belief, frankincense is NOT Frankenstein’s street-savvy cousin.
Christmas Fact #15: 84% of people hate getting socks as a gift, but 100% of Grandma’s will be offended if you don’t pretend that they’re the best thing in the world.
Christmas Fact #16: One of Santa’s reindeer was shot down by Sarah Palin while flying over Alaska. The majestic creature we know as “Blitzen” is actually an imported replacement named “Juan”. Please leave out jalapeños for his benefit; he ain’t about that carrot life.
BONUS (HANUKKAH!) FACT: The Hanukkah story centers on a one-day supply of fuel miraculously burning for eight whole days instead. Sadly, it would have been far more miraculous if an iPhone battery had lasted that long… I’m looking at you, Apple.
Well, that’s it! I hope my feeble attempts at wit helped to raise your holiday spirit a bit, regardless of what you’ll be celebrating (or have already celebrated!) this year. And if they didn’t, don’t worry: I asked Santa to bring me a better sense of humour this year, and the man is pretty magical so I have a feeling he’ll come through for me. Maybe if I leave out jalapenos for Juan I’ll get extra special treatment… It’s definitely worth a shot. Anyways, I’m off to listen to some Bubs and/or watch “Make the Yuletide Gay”. Either way, I’ll probably end up emotionally sobbing over some gingerbread. A Neutral Christmukwaamadiwali to all, and to all a good night!
Tuesday 10 December 2013
Victoria's Dirty Little Secret
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was simultaneous elating and depressing; riveting, yet repulsive. It was the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time of the year again. At 10 o’clock this evening, TVs everywhere will be displaying a parade of leggy Heidi Klum and Miranda Kerr-types strutting their stuff in intricately bedazzled bras on an equally sparkly runway. Girls everywhere will bemoan their envy of Adriana Lima, guys will drool over “boobies”, and a grand ol’ time will be had by all. What started out as nothing but a marketing strategy from one of the world’s largest lingerie companies has evolved into an annual cultural staple in North America; every year it produces more hype and gains new viewers. Superficially, this is fair enough; I mean, girls love pretty underwear and guys love girls in pretty underwear. What’s the harm in that? If it only it were that simple. Like a new medication, the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show can come with some pretty serious side effects and they shouldn’t be ignored.
Up until this year, I saw no problem in engaging in the classic self-berating that shows up on social media whenever the fashion show airs. It’s incredibly hard to stare at women who are perceived as “perfect” by the majority of one’s peers and not to feel a little down on yourself. These women appear to have it all; big boobs, tiny waists, washboard abs, perky butts, and legs that go on for days. Not having these things makes it easy to feel inferior, and so begins a chain of statements of self-loathing. Sharing these negative thoughts creates a bonding platform for girls, and I used to think it was a fun, “we’re all in this together!” kind of activity. But today, I saw something on Twitter and it flipped a switch within me. I was scrolling through my feed, and someone I follow posted a picture of the “Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show Drinking Game.” I clicked on it, and while some of the rules were funny (ie. “Take a shot every time you have a lesbian tendency!”) others weren’t in the slightest. “Drink every time you touch your chest and shed a tear.” “Drink every time you get up and look at yourself in the mirror and ask “God, why?” “Drink every time you’re motivated to hit the gym and/or develop an eating disorder.” Um… Something is wrong with this picture. Surely I can’t be the only one who sees it. Even more troubling is the fact that this kind of stuff is all over the internet. “Ugh, VS Fashion Show tonight, never eating again!” “You’d need like four of these girls to make up one me.” “The Angels make me hate my life.” The list goes on. Self-hate has become a very warped cultural phenomenon associated with the fashion show, and I think it’s time for a reality check.
We all need to stop comparing ourselves to these unattainable ideals. No one looks like these women! These women don’t even look like these women! They go through hours of hair and makeup, are decked out with strategic padding and tape, and that’s just before all of the filtered lighting and flattering camera angles. Yes, they look beautiful, and it’s okay to think that as long as you keep in mind that a lot of it is an illusion and you remember one important thing: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL TOO! Yes, I’m talking to you! You are absolutely gorgeous. What you perceive to be flaws make you unique, and you shouldn’t put yourself down for them. Differences are beautiful. Flaws are beautiful. YOU are beautiful. It makes me so sad that we’ve all developed this gross perception that we need to fit into some perfect mold in order to be considered attractive. I’m as guilty of it as anyone; if you asked me 10 things I would change about myself, I could list them off in a matter of seconds. But I’m slowly starting to realize that this thought pattern isn’t okay. Hating your body is taking the easy way out; noticing your flaws is a piece of cake, but accepting them is incredibly challenging. It’s truly messed up, when you think about it, so we really need to try to change the way we see ourselves. If we could just look at our own bodies with the same admiration that we have for models, we’d be so much happier AND healthier. Let’s pay our friends compliments instead of bonding over our jiggly thighs and A-cups. Let’s look in the mirror and see what we love about ourselves rather than what we hate. Let’s remind ourselves not to compare ourselves to other women when we admire their beauty, and acknowledge that we too are beautiful in our own way.
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This is traditionally interpreted as “everyone finds beauty in different things”, but it means something different to me. I think that beauty is a mindset. We constantly scrutinize ourselves and others, scanning for every possible flaw, and every time we do this we allow negativity to cloud our vision. In this way, negative thinking makes finding beauty as challenging as finding something in a dark room. Sure, you might stumble onto it, but it would be a hell of a lot easier to do if you just turned on the light. So, I ask you, why don’t we just turn on the lights? Clear the negativity from our eyes and find the beauty we couldn’t see before? It seems like a damn good solution to me! Now, I’m not saying the change will be easy or instantaneous. There will most definitely be times when the positivity-bulb will flicker or the switch will get stuck on “Off”. But we still need to make the effort to think differently, since we all deserve to have a better opinion of ourselves. Anyways, I’m going to go watch the Fashion Show now. I’ll probably feel bad about myself every once in a while. It’s inevitable. But this year, I’m going to keep reminding myself that I shouldn’t think that way, and you should do the same. You know why? Because YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! And you can’t let yourself forget that!
Up until this year, I saw no problem in engaging in the classic self-berating that shows up on social media whenever the fashion show airs. It’s incredibly hard to stare at women who are perceived as “perfect” by the majority of one’s peers and not to feel a little down on yourself. These women appear to have it all; big boobs, tiny waists, washboard abs, perky butts, and legs that go on for days. Not having these things makes it easy to feel inferior, and so begins a chain of statements of self-loathing. Sharing these negative thoughts creates a bonding platform for girls, and I used to think it was a fun, “we’re all in this together!” kind of activity. But today, I saw something on Twitter and it flipped a switch within me. I was scrolling through my feed, and someone I follow posted a picture of the “Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show Drinking Game.” I clicked on it, and while some of the rules were funny (ie. “Take a shot every time you have a lesbian tendency!”) others weren’t in the slightest. “Drink every time you touch your chest and shed a tear.” “Drink every time you get up and look at yourself in the mirror and ask “God, why?” “Drink every time you’re motivated to hit the gym and/or develop an eating disorder.” Um… Something is wrong with this picture. Surely I can’t be the only one who sees it. Even more troubling is the fact that this kind of stuff is all over the internet. “Ugh, VS Fashion Show tonight, never eating again!” “You’d need like four of these girls to make up one me.” “The Angels make me hate my life.” The list goes on. Self-hate has become a very warped cultural phenomenon associated with the fashion show, and I think it’s time for a reality check.
We all need to stop comparing ourselves to these unattainable ideals. No one looks like these women! These women don’t even look like these women! They go through hours of hair and makeup, are decked out with strategic padding and tape, and that’s just before all of the filtered lighting and flattering camera angles. Yes, they look beautiful, and it’s okay to think that as long as you keep in mind that a lot of it is an illusion and you remember one important thing: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL TOO! Yes, I’m talking to you! You are absolutely gorgeous. What you perceive to be flaws make you unique, and you shouldn’t put yourself down for them. Differences are beautiful. Flaws are beautiful. YOU are beautiful. It makes me so sad that we’ve all developed this gross perception that we need to fit into some perfect mold in order to be considered attractive. I’m as guilty of it as anyone; if you asked me 10 things I would change about myself, I could list them off in a matter of seconds. But I’m slowly starting to realize that this thought pattern isn’t okay. Hating your body is taking the easy way out; noticing your flaws is a piece of cake, but accepting them is incredibly challenging. It’s truly messed up, when you think about it, so we really need to try to change the way we see ourselves. If we could just look at our own bodies with the same admiration that we have for models, we’d be so much happier AND healthier. Let’s pay our friends compliments instead of bonding over our jiggly thighs and A-cups. Let’s look in the mirror and see what we love about ourselves rather than what we hate. Let’s remind ourselves not to compare ourselves to other women when we admire their beauty, and acknowledge that we too are beautiful in our own way.
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This is traditionally interpreted as “everyone finds beauty in different things”, but it means something different to me. I think that beauty is a mindset. We constantly scrutinize ourselves and others, scanning for every possible flaw, and every time we do this we allow negativity to cloud our vision. In this way, negative thinking makes finding beauty as challenging as finding something in a dark room. Sure, you might stumble onto it, but it would be a hell of a lot easier to do if you just turned on the light. So, I ask you, why don’t we just turn on the lights? Clear the negativity from our eyes and find the beauty we couldn’t see before? It seems like a damn good solution to me! Now, I’m not saying the change will be easy or instantaneous. There will most definitely be times when the positivity-bulb will flicker or the switch will get stuck on “Off”. But we still need to make the effort to think differently, since we all deserve to have a better opinion of ourselves. Anyways, I’m going to go watch the Fashion Show now. I’ll probably feel bad about myself every once in a while. It’s inevitable. But this year, I’m going to keep reminding myself that I shouldn’t think that way, and you should do the same. You know why? Because YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! And you can’t let yourself forget that!
Sunday 6 October 2013
Why my irrational fear of clowns is actually totally rational.
I will be the first person to admit that I have some pretty irrational fears. I freak right out when I see an insect with more than six legs, the smell and texture of bananas give me the willies, and I have nightmares about being left alone with babies or old people. Is there a valid, logical explanation for any of those reactions? Nope. Not even a little bit. They’re stupid, irrational fears that I just can’t shake, and I acknowledge that. However, I have another supposedly “irrational” fear that I refuse to dismiss so easily. What is that fear, you ask? Oh, you’re not asking? You already know since you read the title? Tough titties, I’m saying it anyways. CLOWNS. I’m terrified of clowns. As I’m sure anyone who shares my fear (called coulrophobia, if you feel like being fancy) will surely know, admitting that you’re afraid of clowns is somewhat socially acceptable, but still pretty embarrassing. “They’re just people!” after all, and “Their purpose is to make us laugh!” What’s so scary about that? SO MANY THINGS. So. Many. Things. Don’t believe me? You will soon.
Like all great things, my fear of clowns has an origin story. Is it as badass as Wolverine’s? No. But it’s physically impossible for anyone to have an origin story as badass as his so that’s to be expected. Anyways, let’s begin. The year was 1997 (give or take 2 years). The location? A grocery store. I was strapped into one of those germ-coated metal buggies while my lovely mother shopped for Dunkaroos and other traditional 90s fare. To this day I’m unsure of the occasion, but for some reason a celebration was taking place in the store. There were balloons and free samples; the atmosphere was joyful. Except for one dark blemish on the face of the festivities: a clown. My mother and I first encountered this demonic creature upon entering the store, and lil tater-tot me was having NONE of it and so began to cry. I have an image of this particular clown scorched into my brain, and it still chills me to the bone. He was one of those particularly frightening clowns that aren’t in full makeup but are still wearing enough to look unusual, kind of like a mentally unstable homeless person who bought the wrong shade of foundation. Being the protective Mama Bear that she is, my mum told the guy to hop off since clearly I was not a fan of his tomfoolery. He made one of those sad faces that clowns make and skulked away. Thinking that was the end of it, I stopped crying and we proceeded to shop unassumingly until BOOM, Mr. Clown popped out from behind a display in one of the aisles. Naturally, I was pants-shittingly terrified and had a very loud, very public meltdown. My mum proceeded to ream the guy out for following us after she had very explicitly told him not to, and he replied that he had just wanted to make me laugh. Seriously, buddy? You were trying to make me “laugh”? WHO THE FUCK MAKES SOMEONE LAUGH BY JUMPING OUT FROM BEHIND SOMETHING AND TAKING THEM OFF GUARD? SERIOUSLY, WHO? I don’t remember what happened next, but I like to think that my mum roundhouse kicked that circus freak in the face because that’s the kind of awesome lady she is. NO ONE messes with her bebes.
That fateful incident ignited a deep fear in me, and that fear just grew and grew. I had occasional panic attacks while watching the Big Comfy Couch. I had to skip birthday parties. I couldn’t look at pictures of Pamela Anderson without screaming and covering my eyes. It was crippling. The worst part of it all was that people didn’t understand why I was so afraid. I felt like a freak. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to the very important understanding that I’m no freak. CLOWNS are the freaks. When you break it down, there are so many aspects of their existence that are downright weird. First and foremost, why must they disguise themselves? No one wears makeup that thick and wigs that distracting unless they’re hiding something. You know what other people use those sort of tactics to disguise themselves? Criminals. And the Kardashians, but that’s a topic for another time. If someone is wearing a disguise, chances are there’s a good reason for it, and as far as clowns are concerned I do NOT want to find out what that reason is. Secondly, their shoes. Why so big? I’m betting it’s so that they can store their weapons in a convenient but inconspicuous place. I’ve never come into contact with a clown’s shoes, but I bet if I did I’d find a mace or a revolver or nunchakus. And then there’s their cars. How do so many of them fit into such a small space if not for shapeshifting abilities? The implications of this are horrifying; they could be anything, any time, anywhere and we would have no idea. SEE HOW MUCH POWER THEY POSSESS? How is that not terrifying? When you combine all of these things with the fact that it is literally clowns’ jobs to entertain and delight, thus distracting the general populus from their evil plots, it becomes clear that they’re up to no good. Before we know it, those plastic flowers will be squirting out hydrochloric acid and they’ll be handing out balloons filled with potent carbon monoxide gas. We must stop them while we still can. We can’t allow a clownpocalypse, people, WE JUST CAN’T.
…Okay, after rereading that last paragraph I’m starting to question my sanity a little bit, but I still believe in the ideas at the very core of my reasoning. With all of these undeniable factors at play, I don’t think anyone can truly say that there’s nothing menacing about clowns. I may have a traumatic childhood experience to blame for my coulrophobia, but the fact that so many people share in my terror despite lacking a concrete reason is kind of a red flag. There’s definitely something fishy here. Perhaps it’s one of those big plastic fish that some clowns keep in their pants as a part of their shtick, or perhaps it’s something more. I’ll leave that judgment up to you. But for those of you who still believe that clowns are just harmless entertainment, I have two final things to say: 1) Being afraid of clowns is totally rational, so y’all need to stop judging us for it. 2) If a clown kidnaps you in your sleep and fashions your skin into a jacket, you can’t say I didn’t warn you. SLEEP WELL, FOLKS.
Like all great things, my fear of clowns has an origin story. Is it as badass as Wolverine’s? No. But it’s physically impossible for anyone to have an origin story as badass as his so that’s to be expected. Anyways, let’s begin. The year was 1997 (give or take 2 years). The location? A grocery store. I was strapped into one of those germ-coated metal buggies while my lovely mother shopped for Dunkaroos and other traditional 90s fare. To this day I’m unsure of the occasion, but for some reason a celebration was taking place in the store. There were balloons and free samples; the atmosphere was joyful. Except for one dark blemish on the face of the festivities: a clown. My mother and I first encountered this demonic creature upon entering the store, and lil tater-tot me was having NONE of it and so began to cry. I have an image of this particular clown scorched into my brain, and it still chills me to the bone. He was one of those particularly frightening clowns that aren’t in full makeup but are still wearing enough to look unusual, kind of like a mentally unstable homeless person who bought the wrong shade of foundation. Being the protective Mama Bear that she is, my mum told the guy to hop off since clearly I was not a fan of his tomfoolery. He made one of those sad faces that clowns make and skulked away. Thinking that was the end of it, I stopped crying and we proceeded to shop unassumingly until BOOM, Mr. Clown popped out from behind a display in one of the aisles. Naturally, I was pants-shittingly terrified and had a very loud, very public meltdown. My mum proceeded to ream the guy out for following us after she had very explicitly told him not to, and he replied that he had just wanted to make me laugh. Seriously, buddy? You were trying to make me “laugh”? WHO THE FUCK MAKES SOMEONE LAUGH BY JUMPING OUT FROM BEHIND SOMETHING AND TAKING THEM OFF GUARD? SERIOUSLY, WHO? I don’t remember what happened next, but I like to think that my mum roundhouse kicked that circus freak in the face because that’s the kind of awesome lady she is. NO ONE messes with her bebes.
That fateful incident ignited a deep fear in me, and that fear just grew and grew. I had occasional panic attacks while watching the Big Comfy Couch. I had to skip birthday parties. I couldn’t look at pictures of Pamela Anderson without screaming and covering my eyes. It was crippling. The worst part of it all was that people didn’t understand why I was so afraid. I felt like a freak. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to the very important understanding that I’m no freak. CLOWNS are the freaks. When you break it down, there are so many aspects of their existence that are downright weird. First and foremost, why must they disguise themselves? No one wears makeup that thick and wigs that distracting unless they’re hiding something. You know what other people use those sort of tactics to disguise themselves? Criminals. And the Kardashians, but that’s a topic for another time. If someone is wearing a disguise, chances are there’s a good reason for it, and as far as clowns are concerned I do NOT want to find out what that reason is. Secondly, their shoes. Why so big? I’m betting it’s so that they can store their weapons in a convenient but inconspicuous place. I’ve never come into contact with a clown’s shoes, but I bet if I did I’d find a mace or a revolver or nunchakus. And then there’s their cars. How do so many of them fit into such a small space if not for shapeshifting abilities? The implications of this are horrifying; they could be anything, any time, anywhere and we would have no idea. SEE HOW MUCH POWER THEY POSSESS? How is that not terrifying? When you combine all of these things with the fact that it is literally clowns’ jobs to entertain and delight, thus distracting the general populus from their evil plots, it becomes clear that they’re up to no good. Before we know it, those plastic flowers will be squirting out hydrochloric acid and they’ll be handing out balloons filled with potent carbon monoxide gas. We must stop them while we still can. We can’t allow a clownpocalypse, people, WE JUST CAN’T.
…Okay, after rereading that last paragraph I’m starting to question my sanity a little bit, but I still believe in the ideas at the very core of my reasoning. With all of these undeniable factors at play, I don’t think anyone can truly say that there’s nothing menacing about clowns. I may have a traumatic childhood experience to blame for my coulrophobia, but the fact that so many people share in my terror despite lacking a concrete reason is kind of a red flag. There’s definitely something fishy here. Perhaps it’s one of those big plastic fish that some clowns keep in their pants as a part of their shtick, or perhaps it’s something more. I’ll leave that judgment up to you. But for those of you who still believe that clowns are just harmless entertainment, I have two final things to say: 1) Being afraid of clowns is totally rational, so y’all need to stop judging us for it. 2) If a clown kidnaps you in your sleep and fashions your skin into a jacket, you can’t say I didn’t warn you. SLEEP WELL, FOLKS.
Tuesday 3 September 2013
5 Significant Flaws Possessed by the Disney Princesses
Ever since Snow White and the Seven Dwarves first came out in 1937, the Disney princesses have been prominent figures in the childhoods of young girls (and boys!) all over the world. They represent a form of life that seems to be directly out of a dream; opulence, glamour, cheery little animal companions and the perfect man. What could be better? And they do more than just embody this ideal: they serve as role models. And that’s totally fair, right? They’re powerful women who get to live out their dreams, that’s a great thing for children to aspire to! Well, here’s the thing. When you look past the glass slippers and the ballgowns, the fact of that matter is that nearly all of the Disney princesses possess some pretty significant character flaws. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe. They’re supposed to be perfect! But newsflash: no one is perfect. Not even someone with a fairy godmother or a magical singing voice. Still in denial? Take a gander below where I’ve broken down the often overlooked issues with each of five popular princesses. I apologize in advance for ruining your childhood.
Case 1: Belle
Flaw: Pretty dumb for a smart girl.
In case any of you have forgotten how exactly Belle came to be imprisoned by the Beast, here’s a refresher. Belle’s father, Maurice, stumbles upon the Beast’s castle and is immediately taken captive. Maurice’s horse, being the freaky-smart Disney animal that he is, travels back to the village and leads Belle to where her father is being held. She then proceeds to offer herself as captive in his place. A truly courageous, gallant act, I know. But when you think about it, also kinda dumb. At the beginning of the movie, we learn some important facts about Belle. The first is that she’s incredibly smart. She reads, and in the context of the Disney universe that basically makes her a Nobel laureate. The second thing we learn is that every guy ever is totally in love with her. When she walks down the street, windows fly open and men call out to greet her while their wives slave away in the kitchen and call her a whore. She’s the pride and joy of the village! People would do anything for her! That being said, as a single female, Belle has many men looking to secure her hand in marriage. Many big, strong men who are willing to do anything to win her affection… Hm, think they could have helped her get her dad back without her having to take his place as prisoner? I would say so! Think about the mob that Gaston brings to kill the Beast at the end of the movie. Belle easily could have had that on her side, but instead she chooses to follow her father’s horse into a spooky forest all alone and to enter the big, sketchy castle. If she’s actually as smart as she’s made out to be, why the hell didn’t she just ask someone for help? We get it Belle, you’re a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man, but there’s no shame in asking for some help in a dire situation. I mean yeah, Gaston is a huge douche, but homie is beefy as HELL. And if you’re worried about him getting handsy enroute to the rescue, just ask some other people to come along. It’s a simple solution, and if the plan succeeded it would allow you to steer clear of the beastiality allegations you’ll likely face for the rest of your life. Is your pride really so great that you refuse to ask for help even if it means ensuring your father’s safety? Like I said, Belle, you’re pretty dumb for a smart girl.
Case 2: Ariel
Flaw: Straight-up cray cray.
Ariel is probably one of the most popular Disney princesses, likely because of the fact that she’s a mermaid. When you’re a little girl, mermaids are the bomb dot com. Back in the day, I used to pretend to be a mermaid every single time I went swimming. I fantasized about being just like Ariel; what could be better than being able to breathe underwater and fill out a seashell bra? Sadly, I can only do one of those things today (as to which one it is, the answer may surprise you), but I’m not too heartbroken since I’ve come to a very important realization: Ariel was batshit insane. When you really think about it, all of her endearing mermaid quirks wouldn’t be so endearing in real life. Right off the bat, we receive a red flag about Ariel when we enter her secret lair. There’s stuff EVERYWHERE. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see it on an episode of Hoarding: Buried Alive. I understand collecting things recreationally, but this is some next level stuff and the fact that she feels the need to hide it speaks volumes. If her hoarding isn’t enough to call her sanity into question, her infatuation with Prince Eric definitely is. She first spots him from afar while lurking in the water near his ship, and is immediately DTF even though I’m pretty sure mermaids don’t have the necessary lady parts for that. In a dramatic turn of events, a storm destroys the prince’s ship, and Ariel rushes to save him. Then she sings to him while he’s unconscious… Because that’s not weird or anything. Anyways, after returning to her home in the sea, Ariel presumably builds a shrine to the object of her new obsession and decides that she must become a part of his world through any means necessary. This naturally translates into her giving up her voice in order to transform into a human and go ashore. Great idea, Ariel! Why would you ever need to talk to Prince Eric in order to get him to fall in love with you? A single look should be enough! …And to think her plight on land is supposed to be tragic and surprising. She seriously had it coming. Yes, in the Disney adaptation of the story she ultimately lives happily ever with the prince, so her sacrifice isn’t for naught. But in the more realistic, original version of the story, she ends up getting her heart broken and turning into seafoam. It’s a sad turn of fate, but don’t worry, her spirit lives on through the Overly Attached Girlfriend meme. The moral of the story here? Bitches be CRAZY.
Case 3: Pocahontas
Flaw: Daddy issues.
Pocahontas is a pretty special gal. She often hears wolves cry to the blue corn moon; she can sing with all the voices of the mountain; she can paint with all the colours of the wind… Oh, and she has MAD daddy issues. Now, I’m sure any of you who are faithful fans of the movie will be quick to point out that Pocahontas has a very valid reason to resent her father; she fears that he will force her to wed Kocoum, a man with whom she feels she isn’t compatible. Don’t get me wrong, that’s totally fair. I too would be pretty damn peeved if I thought my dad was going to marry me off to some guy who couldn’t keep his hands off of his spear (Ha! Penis joke!). But I think there’s more to the story than that. When Pocahontas was young, her mother passed away, leaving her father to raise her on his own. This responsibility of his was complicated by the fact that he also happened to be the powerful chief of their tribe, and therefore a very busy man. Thus, Pocahontas didn’t get enough attention from her pops as she struggled with the trials and tribulations of young adulthood (ie. Shopping for her first deerskin bra), and naturally she developed the urge to rebel and make him notice her. And what better way to do that then to fervently reject his choice of suitor and instead chase after John Smith, a foreigner with big guns and also weapons? Clearly befriending a raccoon and talking to a tree wasn’t cutting it, so she needed to go big or go home. Her plan works a little too well and soon her new romance starts an all-out war. Kocoum is the first casualty, leading Papa Chief to arrange the execution of Pocahontas’ man-love. This is the perfect situation for our heroine to gain her father’s attention, so of course she screams and shouts and lets it all out until he decides to spare John’s life out of love for his daughter. Somehow during the hubbub John ends up getting shot anyways, but we know that his wound isn’t fatal because only parents die in Disney movies. Unfortunately, he’s forced to return to his home in England to receive medical help, separating him from Pocahontas, but before shit can get TOO sad, Papa Chief makes the beautiful gesture of telling John that he is welcome back at any time, a sentiment that is seconded by Pocahontas. Aw, ain’t that sweet? Well, it is until you think about what will probably happen next in the series of events. My predictions:
1. John Smith goes back to England, tells everyone about how the crazy natives tried to kill him, and never returns to the New World.
2. Pocahontas decides that she hates him anyways because her dad seems to like him now, and instead mourns the death of her “true love” Kocoum.
3. Papa Chief distributes blankets that were given to him as a gift from John Smith. Everyone gets smallpox.
And they lived happily ever after!
Case 4: Cinderella
Flaw: Never defended herself.
Poor Cinderella, her life went to crap in the blink of an eye. She was once the happy and well-loved daughter of a nobleman, but her father’s untimely death left her at the hands of her insanely bitchy stepmother and her nightmarish daughters. The trio subjected sweet little Cindy to the most cruel of treatments, forcing her to cook and clean and wear boring clothing. They even let their asshole of a cat (conveniently named Lucifer… what are you hinting at, Walt?) screw with her and her anthropomorphic mice friends. What nerve! But as bad as I feel for Cinderella, there’s one thing that really bothers me: she never sticks up for herself. She takes SO much shit from her stepmonster and stepsisters (possibly even literally, chamber pots were still a thing back then) and doesn’t say a word. And here’s the thing: she 100% has the right to stick up for herself. These betches are living in her house, spending her money, and yet ordering her around. What’s up with that? Instead of mopping their floors and mending their ballgowns, she should’ve just yelled “FUCK ALL Y’ALL”, flipped them the double bird, and contacted whatever sort of law enforcement magical kingdoms have to get them kicked out of her house. Or at the very least, she should have spit in their food or wiped her ass with their pillowcases. It’s the little things that matter! Even when the prince’s posse comes to her house with her lost slipper, she’s pretty much a doormat. When her stepmonster realizes that she’s the woman the prince is searching for and locks her away so he can’t find her, she doesn’t put up a fight. C’mon Cindy, an uppercut to the nose or a swift kick in the ovaries is all you need to be with your true love! Or you could’ve just screamed and banged on the door or something, chances are that one of the royal peeps would have heard and investigated. But no, Cinderella’s happily ever after is repeatedly salvaged not by her, but by the clever and swift action of her animal friends. Yes, I’m still weirded out by the fact that the mice have clothing, but hey, there’s no denying that they’re smart. And unlike a certain princess, they’re actually willing to take initiative. Hopefully marrying Prince Charming allowed her to finally grow a pair.
Case 5: Snow White
Flaw: Really, REALLY poor judgement.
Ah, Snow White. So sweet, so innocent, and so very pale (I feel you, girl. I feel you.) Snow reminds me a bit of the chick from Mean Girls who wishes she could make a cake out of rainbows and smiles. All she wants is for the world to be a super duper hippity-happy place, and not even her royal beeyotch of a stepmother can get her down. You can’t help but admire the girl’s optimism, but her tendency to always look on the bright side lies at the root of her biggest flaw: extremely poor judgement. Her belief in the good in everyone repeatedly gets her into trouble. First off, when Queen B (note: not referring to Beyonce) sends a huntsman to take her into the forest and hack out her heart with an axe, she willingly goes with him. And he wasn’t even that good looking! Luckily, the huntsman decides that he simply cannot obey Queen B’s orders because of Snow’s “kindness” (translation: she had a nice rack), but before you know it she’s doing stupid shit again. Let me ask you a question: you’re a single, attractive female in an isolated section of the woods. You come across an empty cabin with seven tiny chairs, beds, etc. Do you assume that the cabin belongs to a group of sweet little orphans and immediately proceed to clean their home and take a nap, hoping that they’ll be pleased to discover your presence? Hell no. You get your ass out of that creepy little house and flee as fast as you can. Or AT LEAST hide behind a tree and wait until the inhabitants come home so you know what you’re dealing with. Fortunately, Snow once again lucks out and finds the homeowners to be a jovial group of dwarves. What a relief! Wait… they’re all men… and she’s a hottie… and alone in the woods… Girl, get out of there! They may be small, but if they teamed up they could overpower you. I know their beds say “Sneezy” and “Dopey”, but for all you know they should really say “Pervy” and “Gropey”. Sounds to me like an episode of Criminal Minds just waiting to happen. But yet again, Snow’s poor judgement has no consequences; the dwarves prove to be swell little guys. By this time you kind of just want something to go terribly wrong for her so you can feel better about yourself. Cue the poisoned apple. I’m sorry, but I have zero sympathy for Snow White in this particular situation. If a freaky old lady in a cloak comes up to you and offers you fruit, DO NOT TAKE IT. That’s like passing by an angry meth-addict lurking in a dark alleyway and asking to borrow their needle. There’s literally no way that it can go well. But somehow, for Snow, it does: after falling into a deep sleep (dying…?) as a result of the apple, she wakes up to a hunky prince standing over her bed. REALLY? She can go into a friggin’ coma and things will STILL turn out well? Damn, this chick should buy a lottery ticket. Or maybe I’ll just have to start using poor judgement and see if a prince shows up over my bed… See, THIS IS WHY THE DISNEY PRINCESSES ARE BAD ROLE MODELS!
Perhaps what I have said is harsh. Okay, it’s definitely harsh. I’m sure that the wonderful people at Disney had no intent of brainwashing young girls into idolizing deeply flawed individuals or anything of the sort. That would just be silly! Although it’s actually a well-known fact that Disney used to produce propaganda back in the day… And there are some pretty sinister rumors about the head mouse himself… Oh god. I have some animal movies to dissect. I have a feeling that something at the heart of the Lion King is responsible for everything that is wrong with me. But that’s beside the point. Regardless of whether or not Disney is secretly evil, one thing is for sure: its princesses aren’t going anywhere. And despite their issues, I’m totally okay with that. Like I said before, nobody’s perfect, so why should our idols be? The lesson at the heart of their stories is an important one: despite our flaws, our dreams can still come true. And we can live happily, although imperfectly, ever after.
THE END
Case 1: Belle
Flaw: Pretty dumb for a smart girl.
In case any of you have forgotten how exactly Belle came to be imprisoned by the Beast, here’s a refresher. Belle’s father, Maurice, stumbles upon the Beast’s castle and is immediately taken captive. Maurice’s horse, being the freaky-smart Disney animal that he is, travels back to the village and leads Belle to where her father is being held. She then proceeds to offer herself as captive in his place. A truly courageous, gallant act, I know. But when you think about it, also kinda dumb. At the beginning of the movie, we learn some important facts about Belle. The first is that she’s incredibly smart. She reads, and in the context of the Disney universe that basically makes her a Nobel laureate. The second thing we learn is that every guy ever is totally in love with her. When she walks down the street, windows fly open and men call out to greet her while their wives slave away in the kitchen and call her a whore. She’s the pride and joy of the village! People would do anything for her! That being said, as a single female, Belle has many men looking to secure her hand in marriage. Many big, strong men who are willing to do anything to win her affection… Hm, think they could have helped her get her dad back without her having to take his place as prisoner? I would say so! Think about the mob that Gaston brings to kill the Beast at the end of the movie. Belle easily could have had that on her side, but instead she chooses to follow her father’s horse into a spooky forest all alone and to enter the big, sketchy castle. If she’s actually as smart as she’s made out to be, why the hell didn’t she just ask someone for help? We get it Belle, you’re a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man, but there’s no shame in asking for some help in a dire situation. I mean yeah, Gaston is a huge douche, but homie is beefy as HELL. And if you’re worried about him getting handsy enroute to the rescue, just ask some other people to come along. It’s a simple solution, and if the plan succeeded it would allow you to steer clear of the beastiality allegations you’ll likely face for the rest of your life. Is your pride really so great that you refuse to ask for help even if it means ensuring your father’s safety? Like I said, Belle, you’re pretty dumb for a smart girl.
Case 2: Ariel
Flaw: Straight-up cray cray.
Ariel is probably one of the most popular Disney princesses, likely because of the fact that she’s a mermaid. When you’re a little girl, mermaids are the bomb dot com. Back in the day, I used to pretend to be a mermaid every single time I went swimming. I fantasized about being just like Ariel; what could be better than being able to breathe underwater and fill out a seashell bra? Sadly, I can only do one of those things today (as to which one it is, the answer may surprise you), but I’m not too heartbroken since I’ve come to a very important realization: Ariel was batshit insane. When you really think about it, all of her endearing mermaid quirks wouldn’t be so endearing in real life. Right off the bat, we receive a red flag about Ariel when we enter her secret lair. There’s stuff EVERYWHERE. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see it on an episode of Hoarding: Buried Alive. I understand collecting things recreationally, but this is some next level stuff and the fact that she feels the need to hide it speaks volumes. If her hoarding isn’t enough to call her sanity into question, her infatuation with Prince Eric definitely is. She first spots him from afar while lurking in the water near his ship, and is immediately DTF even though I’m pretty sure mermaids don’t have the necessary lady parts for that. In a dramatic turn of events, a storm destroys the prince’s ship, and Ariel rushes to save him. Then she sings to him while he’s unconscious… Because that’s not weird or anything. Anyways, after returning to her home in the sea, Ariel presumably builds a shrine to the object of her new obsession and decides that she must become a part of his world through any means necessary. This naturally translates into her giving up her voice in order to transform into a human and go ashore. Great idea, Ariel! Why would you ever need to talk to Prince Eric in order to get him to fall in love with you? A single look should be enough! …And to think her plight on land is supposed to be tragic and surprising. She seriously had it coming. Yes, in the Disney adaptation of the story she ultimately lives happily ever with the prince, so her sacrifice isn’t for naught. But in the more realistic, original version of the story, she ends up getting her heart broken and turning into seafoam. It’s a sad turn of fate, but don’t worry, her spirit lives on through the Overly Attached Girlfriend meme. The moral of the story here? Bitches be CRAZY.
Case 3: Pocahontas
Flaw: Daddy issues.
Pocahontas is a pretty special gal. She often hears wolves cry to the blue corn moon; she can sing with all the voices of the mountain; she can paint with all the colours of the wind… Oh, and she has MAD daddy issues. Now, I’m sure any of you who are faithful fans of the movie will be quick to point out that Pocahontas has a very valid reason to resent her father; she fears that he will force her to wed Kocoum, a man with whom she feels she isn’t compatible. Don’t get me wrong, that’s totally fair. I too would be pretty damn peeved if I thought my dad was going to marry me off to some guy who couldn’t keep his hands off of his spear (Ha! Penis joke!). But I think there’s more to the story than that. When Pocahontas was young, her mother passed away, leaving her father to raise her on his own. This responsibility of his was complicated by the fact that he also happened to be the powerful chief of their tribe, and therefore a very busy man. Thus, Pocahontas didn’t get enough attention from her pops as she struggled with the trials and tribulations of young adulthood (ie. Shopping for her first deerskin bra), and naturally she developed the urge to rebel and make him notice her. And what better way to do that then to fervently reject his choice of suitor and instead chase after John Smith, a foreigner with big guns and also weapons? Clearly befriending a raccoon and talking to a tree wasn’t cutting it, so she needed to go big or go home. Her plan works a little too well and soon her new romance starts an all-out war. Kocoum is the first casualty, leading Papa Chief to arrange the execution of Pocahontas’ man-love. This is the perfect situation for our heroine to gain her father’s attention, so of course she screams and shouts and lets it all out until he decides to spare John’s life out of love for his daughter. Somehow during the hubbub John ends up getting shot anyways, but we know that his wound isn’t fatal because only parents die in Disney movies. Unfortunately, he’s forced to return to his home in England to receive medical help, separating him from Pocahontas, but before shit can get TOO sad, Papa Chief makes the beautiful gesture of telling John that he is welcome back at any time, a sentiment that is seconded by Pocahontas. Aw, ain’t that sweet? Well, it is until you think about what will probably happen next in the series of events. My predictions:
1. John Smith goes back to England, tells everyone about how the crazy natives tried to kill him, and never returns to the New World.
2. Pocahontas decides that she hates him anyways because her dad seems to like him now, and instead mourns the death of her “true love” Kocoum.
3. Papa Chief distributes blankets that were given to him as a gift from John Smith. Everyone gets smallpox.
And they lived happily ever after!
Case 4: Cinderella
Flaw: Never defended herself.
Poor Cinderella, her life went to crap in the blink of an eye. She was once the happy and well-loved daughter of a nobleman, but her father’s untimely death left her at the hands of her insanely bitchy stepmother and her nightmarish daughters. The trio subjected sweet little Cindy to the most cruel of treatments, forcing her to cook and clean and wear boring clothing. They even let their asshole of a cat (conveniently named Lucifer… what are you hinting at, Walt?) screw with her and her anthropomorphic mice friends. What nerve! But as bad as I feel for Cinderella, there’s one thing that really bothers me: she never sticks up for herself. She takes SO much shit from her stepmonster and stepsisters (possibly even literally, chamber pots were still a thing back then) and doesn’t say a word. And here’s the thing: she 100% has the right to stick up for herself. These betches are living in her house, spending her money, and yet ordering her around. What’s up with that? Instead of mopping their floors and mending their ballgowns, she should’ve just yelled “FUCK ALL Y’ALL”, flipped them the double bird, and contacted whatever sort of law enforcement magical kingdoms have to get them kicked out of her house. Or at the very least, she should have spit in their food or wiped her ass with their pillowcases. It’s the little things that matter! Even when the prince’s posse comes to her house with her lost slipper, she’s pretty much a doormat. When her stepmonster realizes that she’s the woman the prince is searching for and locks her away so he can’t find her, she doesn’t put up a fight. C’mon Cindy, an uppercut to the nose or a swift kick in the ovaries is all you need to be with your true love! Or you could’ve just screamed and banged on the door or something, chances are that one of the royal peeps would have heard and investigated. But no, Cinderella’s happily ever after is repeatedly salvaged not by her, but by the clever and swift action of her animal friends. Yes, I’m still weirded out by the fact that the mice have clothing, but hey, there’s no denying that they’re smart. And unlike a certain princess, they’re actually willing to take initiative. Hopefully marrying Prince Charming allowed her to finally grow a pair.
Case 5: Snow White
Flaw: Really, REALLY poor judgement.
Ah, Snow White. So sweet, so innocent, and so very pale (I feel you, girl. I feel you.) Snow reminds me a bit of the chick from Mean Girls who wishes she could make a cake out of rainbows and smiles. All she wants is for the world to be a super duper hippity-happy place, and not even her royal beeyotch of a stepmother can get her down. You can’t help but admire the girl’s optimism, but her tendency to always look on the bright side lies at the root of her biggest flaw: extremely poor judgement. Her belief in the good in everyone repeatedly gets her into trouble. First off, when Queen B (note: not referring to Beyonce) sends a huntsman to take her into the forest and hack out her heart with an axe, she willingly goes with him. And he wasn’t even that good looking! Luckily, the huntsman decides that he simply cannot obey Queen B’s orders because of Snow’s “kindness” (translation: she had a nice rack), but before you know it she’s doing stupid shit again. Let me ask you a question: you’re a single, attractive female in an isolated section of the woods. You come across an empty cabin with seven tiny chairs, beds, etc. Do you assume that the cabin belongs to a group of sweet little orphans and immediately proceed to clean their home and take a nap, hoping that they’ll be pleased to discover your presence? Hell no. You get your ass out of that creepy little house and flee as fast as you can. Or AT LEAST hide behind a tree and wait until the inhabitants come home so you know what you’re dealing with. Fortunately, Snow once again lucks out and finds the homeowners to be a jovial group of dwarves. What a relief! Wait… they’re all men… and she’s a hottie… and alone in the woods… Girl, get out of there! They may be small, but if they teamed up they could overpower you. I know their beds say “Sneezy” and “Dopey”, but for all you know they should really say “Pervy” and “Gropey”. Sounds to me like an episode of Criminal Minds just waiting to happen. But yet again, Snow’s poor judgement has no consequences; the dwarves prove to be swell little guys. By this time you kind of just want something to go terribly wrong for her so you can feel better about yourself. Cue the poisoned apple. I’m sorry, but I have zero sympathy for Snow White in this particular situation. If a freaky old lady in a cloak comes up to you and offers you fruit, DO NOT TAKE IT. That’s like passing by an angry meth-addict lurking in a dark alleyway and asking to borrow their needle. There’s literally no way that it can go well. But somehow, for Snow, it does: after falling into a deep sleep (dying…?) as a result of the apple, she wakes up to a hunky prince standing over her bed. REALLY? She can go into a friggin’ coma and things will STILL turn out well? Damn, this chick should buy a lottery ticket. Or maybe I’ll just have to start using poor judgement and see if a prince shows up over my bed… See, THIS IS WHY THE DISNEY PRINCESSES ARE BAD ROLE MODELS!
Perhaps what I have said is harsh. Okay, it’s definitely harsh. I’m sure that the wonderful people at Disney had no intent of brainwashing young girls into idolizing deeply flawed individuals or anything of the sort. That would just be silly! Although it’s actually a well-known fact that Disney used to produce propaganda back in the day… And there are some pretty sinister rumors about the head mouse himself… Oh god. I have some animal movies to dissect. I have a feeling that something at the heart of the Lion King is responsible for everything that is wrong with me. But that’s beside the point. Regardless of whether or not Disney is secretly evil, one thing is for sure: its princesses aren’t going anywhere. And despite their issues, I’m totally okay with that. Like I said before, nobody’s perfect, so why should our idols be? The lesson at the heart of their stories is an important one: despite our flaws, our dreams can still come true. And we can live happily, although imperfectly, ever after.
THE END
Monday 1 July 2013
Canada in 14 Facts, Eh?
Today is July 1st. If that date means anything special to you, chances are that you, like me, are from the Great White North and are therefore celebrating Canada Day. According to the almost-but-not-quite reliable folks at Wikipedia, Canada is “a North American country consisting of ten provinces and three territories located in the northern part of the continent.” It then goes on to talk about the Canadian maple syrup black market which, naturally, operates in alliance with the Illuminati. Silly Wikipedia, Trix are for kids! But in all seriousness, Canada Day is a big deal in… well, Canada. Why? Because Canada is one hell of an awesome country and we Canadians know it. That being said, there are a lot of stereotypes about life in Canada and while some may be factual, most are about as legitimate as a mosquito on a goose’s ass (classic Canadian joke!). With this in mind, on this most patriotic of days it seems appropriate for me to defend the reputation of my homeland, so I have decided to shed some light on what Canadian living is really all about. Below I have listed fourteen little-known facts about “the true North strong and free” in the hopes that they will educate foreigners, delight the Canadian masses, and occupy my time until it’s dark enough for fireworks and beer. Read on!
Fact #1: 48% of Canadians still find themselves questioning what to call more than one moose.
Fact #2: “Beaver” is not an effective slang word for someone’s lady parts in Canada. Canadians will automatically assume that you’re talking about the adorable, buck-toothed mammal, and the conversation will swiftly take an awkward turn. For example,
Non-Canadian: “That girl’s skirt is so short, if she bends over we’re totally going to see her beaver!”
Canadian: “But it’s December... Beavers hibernate in the winter!”
Non-Canadian: “....... I don't think we should be friends anymore.”
Fact #3: Every Canadian born in the 90s grew up listening to “Let’s Go to the Mall” by Robin Sparkles.
Fact #4: Got a hankering for some ketchup chips? Maybe a couple of President’s Choice Decadent cookies? How about some Alphagetti or a Coffee Crisp? Well, if you don’t live in Canada you’re shit out of luck; it’s the only place you’ll find those delectable food items on shelves. And although they may be served in other nations now, we all know that poutine and Beavertails originated in the Great White North too.
Fact #5: The ranks of Canadian celebrities include Rachel McAdams, Eugene Levy, Ryan Reynolds, John Candy, Jim Carrey, Keanu Reeves, James Cameron, Will Arnett, Celine Dion and Shania Twain, to name a few. Oh, and Ryan Gosling. Not that that’s a big deal or anything. Hey girl, indeed...
Fact #6: Speaking of famous Canadians, Canada is also home to both Justin Bieber and the band Nickelback. To anyone who has ever wondered why Canadians are so quick to apologize: now you know. Now. You. Know.
Fact #7: Canada is the only country in which milk bags are still commonly used. It is also important to note that “milk bags” is not Canadian slang for breasts.
Fact #8: Canadians do say “eh” quite a bit, but we don’t say “aboot” unless we’re referring to one half of our winter footwear.
Fact #9: Referring to Tim Horton’s by its full name in a conversation with a group of Canadians will result in immediate ostracism. It’s “Timmy’s” or “Tim’s”, ya hoser.
Fact #10: No one actually says “hoser” in Canada other than the infamous Bob and Doug McKenzie, but after saying it in fact number nine I think I might start.
Fact #11: We don’t ride polar bears to school. We would NEVER treat our pets like that.
Fact #12: Canadian beer is notoriously strong. Not notoriously strong: Canadian television.
Fact #13: Contrary to popular belief, Canadians don’t actually put maple syrup on everything. Only French Canadians do that. The rest of us use Frank’s Red Hot Sauce™, available at your local grocery store!
Fact #14: It doesn't snow THAT much in Canada, nor is the temperature constantly below zero. Yes, it gets pretty damn cold in the winter and I may have seen a few people cross-country skiing through downtown Toronto back in January, but I swear it’s nice here most of the time.
So there you have it. Yes, some of the rumors about Canada are true. Okay, a lot of them are true. But does that make our country any less awesome? No. We’re a bunch of beer-swilling, eh-saying, beaver-loving (remember, the mammal…) hosers here in Canada and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Happy Canada Day!
Fact #1: 48% of Canadians still find themselves questioning what to call more than one moose.
Fact #2: “Beaver” is not an effective slang word for someone’s lady parts in Canada. Canadians will automatically assume that you’re talking about the adorable, buck-toothed mammal, and the conversation will swiftly take an awkward turn. For example,
Non-Canadian: “That girl’s skirt is so short, if she bends over we’re totally going to see her beaver!”
Canadian: “But it’s December... Beavers hibernate in the winter!”
Non-Canadian: “....... I don't think we should be friends anymore.”
Fact #3: Every Canadian born in the 90s grew up listening to “Let’s Go to the Mall” by Robin Sparkles.
Fact #4: Got a hankering for some ketchup chips? Maybe a couple of President’s Choice Decadent cookies? How about some Alphagetti or a Coffee Crisp? Well, if you don’t live in Canada you’re shit out of luck; it’s the only place you’ll find those delectable food items on shelves. And although they may be served in other nations now, we all know that poutine and Beavertails originated in the Great White North too.
Fact #5: The ranks of Canadian celebrities include Rachel McAdams, Eugene Levy, Ryan Reynolds, John Candy, Jim Carrey, Keanu Reeves, James Cameron, Will Arnett, Celine Dion and Shania Twain, to name a few. Oh, and Ryan Gosling. Not that that’s a big deal or anything. Hey girl, indeed...
Fact #6: Speaking of famous Canadians, Canada is also home to both Justin Bieber and the band Nickelback. To anyone who has ever wondered why Canadians are so quick to apologize: now you know. Now. You. Know.
Fact #7: Canada is the only country in which milk bags are still commonly used. It is also important to note that “milk bags” is not Canadian slang for breasts.
Fact #8: Canadians do say “eh” quite a bit, but we don’t say “aboot” unless we’re referring to one half of our winter footwear.
Fact #9: Referring to Tim Horton’s by its full name in a conversation with a group of Canadians will result in immediate ostracism. It’s “Timmy’s” or “Tim’s”, ya hoser.
Fact #10: No one actually says “hoser” in Canada other than the infamous Bob and Doug McKenzie, but after saying it in fact number nine I think I might start.
Fact #11: We don’t ride polar bears to school. We would NEVER treat our pets like that.
Fact #12: Canadian beer is notoriously strong. Not notoriously strong: Canadian television.
Fact #13: Contrary to popular belief, Canadians don’t actually put maple syrup on everything. Only French Canadians do that. The rest of us use Frank’s Red Hot Sauce™, available at your local grocery store!
Fact #14: It doesn't snow THAT much in Canada, nor is the temperature constantly below zero. Yes, it gets pretty damn cold in the winter and I may have seen a few people cross-country skiing through downtown Toronto back in January, but I swear it’s nice here most of the time.
So there you have it. Yes, some of the rumors about Canada are true. Okay, a lot of them are true. But does that make our country any less awesome? No. We’re a bunch of beer-swilling, eh-saying, beaver-loving (remember, the mammal…) hosers here in Canada and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Happy Canada Day!
Tuesday 28 May 2013
The Slut Scale
Ladies, we’ve all been there. You’re getting ready for some event; perhaps a night on the town, a job interview, or dinner with friends. After tossing on your ensemble for the occasion, you give yourself the ol’ once-over in the mirror, and a habitual question crosses your mind: do I look slutty in this? It is a thought that has plagued womankind seemingly since the beginning of time; indeed, historians have discovered a series of runes that appear to portray a cavewoman pondering whether or not her new pelt left enough to the imagination. Despite its persistence through time, however, the answer still isn’t a simple one to ascertain. There are many factors at play when determining an outfit’s sluttiness, and many go beyond the simple realm of tits and ass. But fear not, my friends, for I have a solution to this predicament. I present to you… The Slut Scale! The system is as follows: in order to determine an outfit’s sluttiness, just look through the list below and add up the points listed beside any relevant items. After calculating your score, find the corresponding level on the Slut Scale (found beneath the list) and you’ll have your simple answer to the age old question of “to slut, or not to slut.” Shall we begin?
DISCLAIMER: I want to make it very clear that my intention in writing this is to amuse, not to offend. I am by no means attempting to “slut shame” or insinuate that females shouldn’t dress a certain way in any way shape or form. I am a firm believer that all women should be able to dress however they want without fear of being assessed or judged for it by their peers, and the last thing I would want is for this to be perceived as an attack on feminism or anything of the sort. This is not meant to provide people with a means by which to criticize others for their wardrobe or lifestyle choices. Like I said, this is all supposed to be in good fun. I apologize if I anger anyone with what I say, that isn’t what I’m trying to do! Peace and love etc. Now, onto the Slut Scale…
1. Cleavage: Based upon percentage of visible boob
a) 0-20%: 0 points.
b) 21-30%: 1 point.
c) 31-40%: 2 points.
d) 41-50%: 3 points.
e) Over 51%: 4 points. Sidenote: are you even wearing a shirt?
2. Midriff: Based on amount shown. If midriff is exposed due to a sheer shirt, deduct one point from the score that corresponds to that level of exposure.
a) Smallish strip of skin exposed between pants and shirt: 1 point.
b) Medium strip of skin exposed beginning just above the bellybutton and ending where pants are: 3 points.
c) Large strip of exposed skin from beneath the bra line to where pants are: 4 points.
3. Ass (through tight pants or skirt): 1 point if opaque, 2 if see-through.
4. Ass (falling out of shorts or skirt): 4 points.
5. Side boob: 3 points.
6. Underboob: 4 points.
7. Nips: Depends how cold it is. Nah, I’m kidding, let’s say 4 points if you live in the 21st century or 2 points if you happen to be from the cast of Friends (seriously, did bras not exist in the 90s?)
8. Leather: 1 point for every leather item, 3 points if the fit of the item is akin to that of spandex.
9. Heels between 0-2 inches: 0 points. But let’s not kid ourselves, no one under the age of 40 wears heels that small anyways…
10. Heels between 2 and 4 inches: 1 point.
11. Heels between 4-6 inches: 2 points.
12. Heels over 6 inches: 3 points.
13. Knee high boots: 0 points if worn with pants, 1 point if worn with a short skirt or shorts. Note: points must also be added for height of heel.
14. Thigh high boots: 2 points if worn with pants, 3 points if worn with a short skirt or shorts. As with the knee high boots, points must also be added for height of heel.
15. Red lipstick by itself: 1 point.
16. Smokey eye makeup by itself: 1 point.
17. Red lipstick and smokey eye makeup worn in combination: 3 points.
18. Vaginal visibility: 0 points if unintentional (ie. Camel toe caused by riding up of undergarments that is soon discreetly fixed on a trip to the washroom), 5 points if intentional (ie. “I’m not wearing panties under this breezy skirt because I YOLO like that!”).
19. Thong/g-string straps visible: 0 points if you’re an extra in the music video for Sisqo’s “Thong Song”, 4 points if you’re anyone else.
20. Backless: If backless to just below shoulder blades, 1 point. A little further? 2 points. Backless to just above the ass? 4 points.
21. Lacy and/or colourful and/or bedazzled bra visible through shirt: 2 points.
22. Blatant possession of Daddy Issues: 5 points.
23. Cardigan: deduct 2 point if it is unbuttoned but does a bit of concealing, and 3 points if it is buttoned up enough to achieve a slight air of class.
24. Properly concealed undergarments: Deduct 2 points.
So, how did you score? Read on…
0-5 points: Level 1 - NOT SLUTTY
Congrats, you don’t look slutty! Scoring in this range means that, except for in a few cases of odd scoring (ie. You score 4 points and all 4 are because your thong is waving hello to the world), your outfit is acceptable for a day out and about in the public eye at the very least and a formal brunch with your grandparents at the very most. You’re totally wearing a cardigan, aren’t you? Those things work wonders.
6-9 points: Level 2 - SUGGESTIVE
Scoring in this range means that your outfit has a bit of sex appeal to it, but it’s not in your face. It’s socially acceptable in most settings in the evening, but maybe not during the daylight hours. Your ensemble is provocative, but classy nonetheless.
10-15 points: Level 3 - A LITTLE BIT SLUTTY
Okay, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you score in this range you’re starting to look a little bit slutty. I mean, you look totally hot, but I can see a few more parts of you than I should ideally be able to see. But hey, if you’re okay with that and have the intention of flaunting some of your biznaz for everyone to see, then the power to you!
16-25 points: Level 4 - SLUTTY
If you scored in this range, I honestly think Julia Roberts wore more clothing than you’re currently wearing while filming the movie Pretty Woman. And that’s before meeting Richard Gere’s character, not after. Honey, you look like a slut. I’m willing to let it slide this one time, but maybe buy a shirt that looks a bit less like dental floss the next time you go shopping, okay?
25+: Level 5 - WAIT, ARE YOU NAKED?
Yikes. Is that your…? Oh god, please put on some more substantial clothing, people are eating in here and there’s no way that’s sanitary! I just want to give you a turtleneck and a hug. Well, maybe not the hug, I don’t want to brush up against anything that should really just be between you and your general practitioner. Maybe I’ll give you a Bible instead? I’m not even a tiny bit religious but for some reason that seems like a good idea. In the words of Hamlet, to a nunnery, go!
So there you have it: The Slut Scale. Admittedly the logic and calculation methods behind it are primitive at best, but it should still give you a fair estimate as to the appropriateness of any given outfit. But remember, my intention here was to amuse, so naturally none of this should be taken too seriously. Just keep doing you, gurlz! Unless you actually think my poorly-crafted system produces somewhat accurate results… In that case, bring on my Nobel Prize in Slut Studies! That’ll look great on a resume.
DISCLAIMER: I want to make it very clear that my intention in writing this is to amuse, not to offend. I am by no means attempting to “slut shame” or insinuate that females shouldn’t dress a certain way in any way shape or form. I am a firm believer that all women should be able to dress however they want without fear of being assessed or judged for it by their peers, and the last thing I would want is for this to be perceived as an attack on feminism or anything of the sort. This is not meant to provide people with a means by which to criticize others for their wardrobe or lifestyle choices. Like I said, this is all supposed to be in good fun. I apologize if I anger anyone with what I say, that isn’t what I’m trying to do! Peace and love etc. Now, onto the Slut Scale…
1. Cleavage: Based upon percentage of visible boob
a) 0-20%: 0 points.
b) 21-30%: 1 point.
c) 31-40%: 2 points.
d) 41-50%: 3 points.
e) Over 51%: 4 points. Sidenote: are you even wearing a shirt?
2. Midriff: Based on amount shown. If midriff is exposed due to a sheer shirt, deduct one point from the score that corresponds to that level of exposure.
a) Smallish strip of skin exposed between pants and shirt: 1 point.
b) Medium strip of skin exposed beginning just above the bellybutton and ending where pants are: 3 points.
c) Large strip of exposed skin from beneath the bra line to where pants are: 4 points.
3. Ass (through tight pants or skirt): 1 point if opaque, 2 if see-through.
4. Ass (falling out of shorts or skirt): 4 points.
5. Side boob: 3 points.
6. Underboob: 4 points.
7. Nips: Depends how cold it is. Nah, I’m kidding, let’s say 4 points if you live in the 21st century or 2 points if you happen to be from the cast of Friends (seriously, did bras not exist in the 90s?)
8. Leather: 1 point for every leather item, 3 points if the fit of the item is akin to that of spandex.
9. Heels between 0-2 inches: 0 points. But let’s not kid ourselves, no one under the age of 40 wears heels that small anyways…
10. Heels between 2 and 4 inches: 1 point.
11. Heels between 4-6 inches: 2 points.
12. Heels over 6 inches: 3 points.
13. Knee high boots: 0 points if worn with pants, 1 point if worn with a short skirt or shorts. Note: points must also be added for height of heel.
14. Thigh high boots: 2 points if worn with pants, 3 points if worn with a short skirt or shorts. As with the knee high boots, points must also be added for height of heel.
15. Red lipstick by itself: 1 point.
16. Smokey eye makeup by itself: 1 point.
17. Red lipstick and smokey eye makeup worn in combination: 3 points.
18. Vaginal visibility: 0 points if unintentional (ie. Camel toe caused by riding up of undergarments that is soon discreetly fixed on a trip to the washroom), 5 points if intentional (ie. “I’m not wearing panties under this breezy skirt because I YOLO like that!”).
19. Thong/g-string straps visible: 0 points if you’re an extra in the music video for Sisqo’s “Thong Song”, 4 points if you’re anyone else.
20. Backless: If backless to just below shoulder blades, 1 point. A little further? 2 points. Backless to just above the ass? 4 points.
21. Lacy and/or colourful and/or bedazzled bra visible through shirt: 2 points.
22. Blatant possession of Daddy Issues: 5 points.
23. Cardigan: deduct 2 point if it is unbuttoned but does a bit of concealing, and 3 points if it is buttoned up enough to achieve a slight air of class.
24. Properly concealed undergarments: Deduct 2 points.
So, how did you score? Read on…
0-5 points: Level 1 - NOT SLUTTY
Congrats, you don’t look slutty! Scoring in this range means that, except for in a few cases of odd scoring (ie. You score 4 points and all 4 are because your thong is waving hello to the world), your outfit is acceptable for a day out and about in the public eye at the very least and a formal brunch with your grandparents at the very most. You’re totally wearing a cardigan, aren’t you? Those things work wonders.
6-9 points: Level 2 - SUGGESTIVE
Scoring in this range means that your outfit has a bit of sex appeal to it, but it’s not in your face. It’s socially acceptable in most settings in the evening, but maybe not during the daylight hours. Your ensemble is provocative, but classy nonetheless.
10-15 points: Level 3 - A LITTLE BIT SLUTTY
Okay, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you score in this range you’re starting to look a little bit slutty. I mean, you look totally hot, but I can see a few more parts of you than I should ideally be able to see. But hey, if you’re okay with that and have the intention of flaunting some of your biznaz for everyone to see, then the power to you!
16-25 points: Level 4 - SLUTTY
If you scored in this range, I honestly think Julia Roberts wore more clothing than you’re currently wearing while filming the movie Pretty Woman. And that’s before meeting Richard Gere’s character, not after. Honey, you look like a slut. I’m willing to let it slide this one time, but maybe buy a shirt that looks a bit less like dental floss the next time you go shopping, okay?
25+: Level 5 - WAIT, ARE YOU NAKED?
Yikes. Is that your…? Oh god, please put on some more substantial clothing, people are eating in here and there’s no way that’s sanitary! I just want to give you a turtleneck and a hug. Well, maybe not the hug, I don’t want to brush up against anything that should really just be between you and your general practitioner. Maybe I’ll give you a Bible instead? I’m not even a tiny bit religious but for some reason that seems like a good idea. In the words of Hamlet, to a nunnery, go!
So there you have it: The Slut Scale. Admittedly the logic and calculation methods behind it are primitive at best, but it should still give you a fair estimate as to the appropriateness of any given outfit. But remember, my intention here was to amuse, so naturally none of this should be taken too seriously. Just keep doing you, gurlz! Unless you actually think my poorly-crafted system produces somewhat accurate results… In that case, bring on my Nobel Prize in Slut Studies! That’ll look great on a resume.
Wednesday 8 May 2013
If the Toronto Maple Leafs were members of the Fellowship of the Ring.
One Cup to rule them all…
As a Canadian, I’ve been exposed to hockey pretty much ever since my cells started to multiply. But to be honest, I never really gave a damn about the sport until this season when my home team, the Toronto Maple Leafs, miraculously pulled their heads out of their asses and actually started doing well after years of being the butt of basically every hockey joke ever. Suddenly, I’m riveted by the whole shebang. The proof: I’m currently coated in a cold layer of sweat after watching game four of the playoffs against Boston. Anyone who knows me well will probably be quick to point out that I sweat pretty much all the time, but I swear that this is a different kind of sweat: the sweat of a hockey fan (I know I’m not a real fan, just let me tell myself what I need to tell myself). Now, I’ll be the first to admit that when it comes to the actual game, I have no idea what I’m talking about. I understand the basics of course, but when people start speaking in technical terms, they completely lose me. But I'm not a completely lost cause: I've experienced the wide spectrum of feelings associated with the game (anxiety, glee, sadness, indigestion), and I’m starting to learn a fair amount about some of the players. And this is what has brought me here today. While I was watching the three-hour long stressfest that was tonight’s game, I realized something: the social dynamics among the Leafs are totally similar to those within the Fellowship from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I know that that’s probably the weirdest connection I could possibly draw, but I swear it actually makes sense. Each character from the Fellowship has a kindred spirit in one of the Leafs, and the parallel can even be extended to their Boston nemeses. Just humour me for a minute, and I’ll explain my logic. Let’s start with Frodo…
FRODO- Dion Phaneuf
Phaneuf is the captain of the Leafs, just like Frodo is the “leader” of the Fellowship. But despite their leadership positions, both Phaneuf and Frodo have a tendency to fuck things up. Their hearts are in the right place, but sometimes you can’t help but wish that they would just sit down and stay out of trouble while someone else does their job for them. Luckily, both Phaneuf and Frodo have faithful companions to clean up their messes. Otherwise, they would be in for a thorough ass-whooping.
SAM- James van Riemsdyk
JVR is relatively new to the Leafs, just like Sam is to the world of adventure. But despite having less experience than some of their peers, JVR and Sam are incredibly loyal to their friends (or teammates) and summon the courage to aid them in their quest however they can. Their dedication is vital to the overall success of their respective groups, and they are known to be very reliable.
GANDALF- James Reimer
Both Gandalf and Reimer function as the glue that holds their team together. When things REALLY go to shit, the wizard and the goalie are always there to save the day (or goal). Also, Gandalf’s infamous “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” is undeniably applicable in Reimer’s position as well.
ARAGORN- Nazem Kadri
Aragorn and Kadri are definitely two of the most important members of their respective groups. Both are incredibly talented, and while they may not be official leaders, they don’t hesitate to guide their companions when needed and to go after what they want when an opportunity presents itself. They’re proactive individuals and don’t hesitate to jump on the offensive, but they also function really well as units within a team. Their versatile nature is their most positive attribute.
LEGOLAS- Mikhail Grabovski
Legolas and Grabovski are what I refer to as slippery snakes. They possess remarkable skill with their chosen weapons, the bow and the hockey stick, and their agility allows them to weave in and out of enemies with ease. These dudes have major finesse; they make every one of their actions look good. And let’s not forget the long, majestic blond flow that Grabovski used to have. It’s like he took a page straight out of Legolas’ style book.
BOROMIR- Colton Orr
Boromir and Orr are hot tempered and quick to get into fights, and at times this tendency can interfere with the goals they’re supposed to be pursuing as part of a team. They’re both strong-willed as well as physically strong, and upon doing a Google image comparison they even kind of look alike. Well, they’re both tall and blond and that’s enough for me. U mad?
GIMLI- Phil Kessel
Both Gimli and Kessel are stocky, powerful firecrackers who are always eager to get in on the action or take charge. If only Kessel’s beard was just a few feet longer and a bit more red… I would totally be able to use #twinning in a justifiable context.
MERRY AND PIPPIN- Joffrey Lupul and Tyler Bozak
Like Merry and Pippin, Lupul and Bozak make an unreal team. The two constantly play off each other, and make it possible to do things that neither could accomplish on their own. I was tempted to put Lupul down as Legolas because they both have crazy dreamy eyes, but the camaraderie between him and Bozak was the clincher here. Dare I call it a bromance? I’m not sure. But regardless, Merry and Pippin and Lupul and Bozak show that sometimes, two is indeed better than one.
And now for the bad guys… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1Y73sPHKxw
SAURON- Tuukka Rask
Rask seems like an unlikely match with the epitome of evil that is Sauron, but when you think about it, the goalie is ultimately the final obstacle between the Leafs and success. Like Sauron, he must be defeated in order for the grand quest to finally be successful, or, in the case of hockey, for a goal to be scored. And if you sort of squint, Rask’s helmet kind of makes him look like a giant eye… Just kind of.
GOLLUM- Zdeno Chara
Chara just looks like Gollum. Plain and simple. Also, both Chara and Gollum are ANNOYING AS FUCK. Boom. Roasted. (My apologies to Chara and his family. But cmon, it's not my fault he's so Gollumy!)
So, have I convinced you? I’m guessing not, since my limited knowledge of hockey probably means that 90% of the things I’ve stated are wrong. But hey, I tried my best, and I hope that at the very least my misinformed musings have provided Leaf fans with something to dull the lingering pain from tonight’s game. On that note, it's time for some motivation! Keep your chins up, folks: you need to have faith in the Fellowship of the hockey world. The good guys in stories always win; let’s just hope that trend translates into the real world. UNTIL GAME FIVE, BOSTON. Until. Game. Five.
As a Canadian, I’ve been exposed to hockey pretty much ever since my cells started to multiply. But to be honest, I never really gave a damn about the sport until this season when my home team, the Toronto Maple Leafs, miraculously pulled their heads out of their asses and actually started doing well after years of being the butt of basically every hockey joke ever. Suddenly, I’m riveted by the whole shebang. The proof: I’m currently coated in a cold layer of sweat after watching game four of the playoffs against Boston. Anyone who knows me well will probably be quick to point out that I sweat pretty much all the time, but I swear that this is a different kind of sweat: the sweat of a hockey fan (I know I’m not a real fan, just let me tell myself what I need to tell myself). Now, I’ll be the first to admit that when it comes to the actual game, I have no idea what I’m talking about. I understand the basics of course, but when people start speaking in technical terms, they completely lose me. But I'm not a completely lost cause: I've experienced the wide spectrum of feelings associated with the game (anxiety, glee, sadness, indigestion), and I’m starting to learn a fair amount about some of the players. And this is what has brought me here today. While I was watching the three-hour long stressfest that was tonight’s game, I realized something: the social dynamics among the Leafs are totally similar to those within the Fellowship from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I know that that’s probably the weirdest connection I could possibly draw, but I swear it actually makes sense. Each character from the Fellowship has a kindred spirit in one of the Leafs, and the parallel can even be extended to their Boston nemeses. Just humour me for a minute, and I’ll explain my logic. Let’s start with Frodo…
FRODO- Dion Phaneuf
Phaneuf is the captain of the Leafs, just like Frodo is the “leader” of the Fellowship. But despite their leadership positions, both Phaneuf and Frodo have a tendency to fuck things up. Their hearts are in the right place, but sometimes you can’t help but wish that they would just sit down and stay out of trouble while someone else does their job for them. Luckily, both Phaneuf and Frodo have faithful companions to clean up their messes. Otherwise, they would be in for a thorough ass-whooping.
SAM- James van Riemsdyk
JVR is relatively new to the Leafs, just like Sam is to the world of adventure. But despite having less experience than some of their peers, JVR and Sam are incredibly loyal to their friends (or teammates) and summon the courage to aid them in their quest however they can. Their dedication is vital to the overall success of their respective groups, and they are known to be very reliable.
GANDALF- James Reimer
Both Gandalf and Reimer function as the glue that holds their team together. When things REALLY go to shit, the wizard and the goalie are always there to save the day (or goal). Also, Gandalf’s infamous “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” is undeniably applicable in Reimer’s position as well.
ARAGORN- Nazem Kadri
Aragorn and Kadri are definitely two of the most important members of their respective groups. Both are incredibly talented, and while they may not be official leaders, they don’t hesitate to guide their companions when needed and to go after what they want when an opportunity presents itself. They’re proactive individuals and don’t hesitate to jump on the offensive, but they also function really well as units within a team. Their versatile nature is their most positive attribute.
LEGOLAS- Mikhail Grabovski
Legolas and Grabovski are what I refer to as slippery snakes. They possess remarkable skill with their chosen weapons, the bow and the hockey stick, and their agility allows them to weave in and out of enemies with ease. These dudes have major finesse; they make every one of their actions look good. And let’s not forget the long, majestic blond flow that Grabovski used to have. It’s like he took a page straight out of Legolas’ style book.
BOROMIR- Colton Orr
Boromir and Orr are hot tempered and quick to get into fights, and at times this tendency can interfere with the goals they’re supposed to be pursuing as part of a team. They’re both strong-willed as well as physically strong, and upon doing a Google image comparison they even kind of look alike. Well, they’re both tall and blond and that’s enough for me. U mad?
GIMLI- Phil Kessel
Both Gimli and Kessel are stocky, powerful firecrackers who are always eager to get in on the action or take charge. If only Kessel’s beard was just a few feet longer and a bit more red… I would totally be able to use #twinning in a justifiable context.
MERRY AND PIPPIN- Joffrey Lupul and Tyler Bozak
Like Merry and Pippin, Lupul and Bozak make an unreal team. The two constantly play off each other, and make it possible to do things that neither could accomplish on their own. I was tempted to put Lupul down as Legolas because they both have crazy dreamy eyes, but the camaraderie between him and Bozak was the clincher here. Dare I call it a bromance? I’m not sure. But regardless, Merry and Pippin and Lupul and Bozak show that sometimes, two is indeed better than one.
And now for the bad guys… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1Y73sPHKxw
SAURON- Tuukka Rask
Rask seems like an unlikely match with the epitome of evil that is Sauron, but when you think about it, the goalie is ultimately the final obstacle between the Leafs and success. Like Sauron, he must be defeated in order for the grand quest to finally be successful, or, in the case of hockey, for a goal to be scored. And if you sort of squint, Rask’s helmet kind of makes him look like a giant eye… Just kind of.
GOLLUM- Zdeno Chara
Chara just looks like Gollum. Plain and simple. Also, both Chara and Gollum are ANNOYING AS FUCK. Boom. Roasted. (My apologies to Chara and his family. But cmon, it's not my fault he's so Gollumy!)
So, have I convinced you? I’m guessing not, since my limited knowledge of hockey probably means that 90% of the things I’ve stated are wrong. But hey, I tried my best, and I hope that at the very least my misinformed musings have provided Leaf fans with something to dull the lingering pain from tonight’s game. On that note, it's time for some motivation! Keep your chins up, folks: you need to have faith in the Fellowship of the hockey world. The good guys in stories always win; let’s just hope that trend translates into the real world. UNTIL GAME FIVE, BOSTON. Until. Game. Five.
Monday 1 April 2013
The Four Stages of Facebook Creeping
Every sixty seconds, someone falls victim to a Facebook creep. Recent studies have shown that the number of creeping incidents reported per day is increasing rapidly, and scientists believe that if the pattern continues, drastic measures of national defense may need to be taken. Tentative evidence even suggests that Facebook Creeping lies at the root of climate change and world hunger, and may have been responsible for Amelia Earhart’s mysterious disappearance over the Pacific Ocean in 1937.
…Okay, I might have made some of that up. But I’m currently in a crowded lecture and at least a quarter of the people I can see from where I’m sitting are lurking “The Facebook”, so I can’t be THAT wrong. When all of my maybe-true-maybe-false statistics are set aside, the fact of the matter is that every single Facebook user creeps at one point or another. If you deny it, you, Sir (or Madame), are a liar. I’m sure at least one person reading this will be quick to object, but I’m sticking to my guns. That being said, I have a caveat that may appease any doubters, and that caveat is that there are actually several different stages of Facebook creeping. Four, to be exact. Using the extremely precise scientific process that allowed me to obtain the highly factual information in my introduction, I have determined the characteristics of each of these four stages, and summarized them for educational purposes. Man, academic journals are going to be all over this! Anyways, read on, and prepare to start feeling self-conscious every time you’re online.
Stage 1 Creeping
It’s pretty much impossible to log on to Facebook without engaging in Stage 1 Creeping. If Facebook was a pool, Stage 1 Creeping would be akin to dipping your toes in on a hot summer’s day. The stage is characterised by casual scrolling through the news feed, perhaps with occasional pauses for the purpose of enlarging a popular picture, watching a viral video, or reading someone’s status.pausing occasionally to look at particularly intriguing posts or to enlarge a picture, but predominately just skimming. Since the Stage 1 Creep just skims through their feed, minimal clicking takes place, with the exception of the occasional liking of or commenting upon things posted by close friends. The average Stage 1 Creeping session lasts for approximately 5-10 minutes.
Stage 2 Creeping
Stage 2 Creeping is a step up from Stage 1, but is still socially acceptable. Going back to the pool metaphor, it’s the equivalent of wading in the shallow end. Stage 2 involves the liking and commenting mentioned in Stage 1, but these actions extend outside of the realm of people who you are good friends with. Perhaps you like the new profile picture or status update of someone you haven’t talked to in years or who you have only met once. Stage 2 could also entail flipping through someone’s entire album out of boredom, but only if it’s on your newsfeed. That’s the key to Stage 2: The “I saw it on my homepage!” defense still holds true and is admissible in a court of law. The average Stage 2 Creeping session lasts from 15-30 minutes.
Stage 3 Creeping
Stage 3 is the level of creeping where things start to get a little iffy. Almost everyone engages in these behaviours, but they’re still taboo so most people will deny them in order to avoid judgement. Stage 3 Creeping is like swimming around in the deep end of the pool while keeping your head above the water. Characteristic activities include going through the profile pictures of someone you know, looking at up to fifteen of their tagged photos, or scrolling through the most recent month of their timeline. These activities may be triggered by clicking on something on your newsfeed, but they cannot be classified as Stage 2 behaviours since they ultimately take place on a specific person’s profile. Stage 3 creeping sessions last an average of 45 minutes to 1 hour, and generally involve the lurking of multiple individual’s profiles. The “I saw it on my homepage!” defense is no longer admissible in a court of law.
Stage 4 Creeping
Stage 4 Creeping is often caused by extreme boredom and/or sociopathic tendencies and is synonymous with the colloquial term “Facebook Stalking”. At this point, you’re doing a big ol’ cannonball into the pool and sinking to the very bottom, possibly urinating in the process. Listed below are some of the most common activities associated with Stage 4 Creeping. If only one or two of them are exhibited, then the Creeping Episode is classified as a low-grade one. An episode is classified as extreme if three or more are exhibited and the creeping spans across several profiles.
1. Going through 20 or more of someone’s tagged photos.
2. Looking through an album that is more than a month old and not located on the newsfeed.
3. Clicking on the “Likes” section of someone’s profile and actually looking at stuff.
4. Scrolling through a minimum of one year of a person’s timeline (or any section of the timeline that is more than two years old).
5. Browsing through someone’s “Friends”.
6. Clicking on the “Map” section of their profile. (Sidenote: If you’re the type of person who signs in to their gym on Facebook every time they go, I hope people Stage 4 Creep you so you’re judged accordingly.)
7. Looking through someone’s “About” section and using any links to their Twitter/Instagram/Pinterest/LinkedIn/Neopets accounts for further creeping purposes.
8. Doing anything else that calls the expression “Stranger Danger” to mind.
Any of the behaviours listed in Stage 3 are also classified as Stage 4 behaviours if they take place on the profile of someone who you don’t actually have as a Facebook Friend. Let’s be real, we’ve all done it. Wait… You haven’t? Oh. Um, neither have I! That would be totally weird. Haha! Ha… Anyways. Stage 4 Creeping episodes can last anywhere from an hour to a lifetime (I’m looking at you, dudes who message pickup lines to girls they don’t know), and the “I saw it on my homepage!” defense DEFINITELY doesn’t hold true. Which is unfortunate, because if anyone’s going to be at the bad side of a lawsuit, it’s going to be a Stage 4 Creeper.
So there you have it: the four stages of Facebook creeping. Now, you might be thinking to yourself “This is the least accurate thing I’ve ever read, where did this girl get her facts from?” Well, let me tell you: I got them from some random person’s “About Me” section. PLOT TWIST! Nah, I’m just kidding. I obviously used science, didn’t you read to ANYTHING I said at the beginning? Geez. Anyways, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go study s- …Ooh, a new album! It’s creeping time.
…Okay, I might have made some of that up. But I’m currently in a crowded lecture and at least a quarter of the people I can see from where I’m sitting are lurking “The Facebook”, so I can’t be THAT wrong. When all of my maybe-true-maybe-false statistics are set aside, the fact of the matter is that every single Facebook user creeps at one point or another. If you deny it, you, Sir (or Madame), are a liar. I’m sure at least one person reading this will be quick to object, but I’m sticking to my guns. That being said, I have a caveat that may appease any doubters, and that caveat is that there are actually several different stages of Facebook creeping. Four, to be exact. Using the extremely precise scientific process that allowed me to obtain the highly factual information in my introduction, I have determined the characteristics of each of these four stages, and summarized them for educational purposes. Man, academic journals are going to be all over this! Anyways, read on, and prepare to start feeling self-conscious every time you’re online.
Stage 1 Creeping
It’s pretty much impossible to log on to Facebook without engaging in Stage 1 Creeping. If Facebook was a pool, Stage 1 Creeping would be akin to dipping your toes in on a hot summer’s day. The stage is characterised by casual scrolling through the news feed, perhaps with occasional pauses for the purpose of enlarging a popular picture, watching a viral video, or reading someone’s status.pausing occasionally to look at particularly intriguing posts or to enlarge a picture, but predominately just skimming. Since the Stage 1 Creep just skims through their feed, minimal clicking takes place, with the exception of the occasional liking of or commenting upon things posted by close friends. The average Stage 1 Creeping session lasts for approximately 5-10 minutes.
Stage 2 Creeping
Stage 2 Creeping is a step up from Stage 1, but is still socially acceptable. Going back to the pool metaphor, it’s the equivalent of wading in the shallow end. Stage 2 involves the liking and commenting mentioned in Stage 1, but these actions extend outside of the realm of people who you are good friends with. Perhaps you like the new profile picture or status update of someone you haven’t talked to in years or who you have only met once. Stage 2 could also entail flipping through someone’s entire album out of boredom, but only if it’s on your newsfeed. That’s the key to Stage 2: The “I saw it on my homepage!” defense still holds true and is admissible in a court of law. The average Stage 2 Creeping session lasts from 15-30 minutes.
Stage 3 Creeping
Stage 3 is the level of creeping where things start to get a little iffy. Almost everyone engages in these behaviours, but they’re still taboo so most people will deny them in order to avoid judgement. Stage 3 Creeping is like swimming around in the deep end of the pool while keeping your head above the water. Characteristic activities include going through the profile pictures of someone you know, looking at up to fifteen of their tagged photos, or scrolling through the most recent month of their timeline. These activities may be triggered by clicking on something on your newsfeed, but they cannot be classified as Stage 2 behaviours since they ultimately take place on a specific person’s profile. Stage 3 creeping sessions last an average of 45 minutes to 1 hour, and generally involve the lurking of multiple individual’s profiles. The “I saw it on my homepage!” defense is no longer admissible in a court of law.
Stage 4 Creeping
Stage 4 Creeping is often caused by extreme boredom and/or sociopathic tendencies and is synonymous with the colloquial term “Facebook Stalking”. At this point, you’re doing a big ol’ cannonball into the pool and sinking to the very bottom, possibly urinating in the process. Listed below are some of the most common activities associated with Stage 4 Creeping. If only one or two of them are exhibited, then the Creeping Episode is classified as a low-grade one. An episode is classified as extreme if three or more are exhibited and the creeping spans across several profiles.
1. Going through 20 or more of someone’s tagged photos.
2. Looking through an album that is more than a month old and not located on the newsfeed.
3. Clicking on the “Likes” section of someone’s profile and actually looking at stuff.
4. Scrolling through a minimum of one year of a person’s timeline (or any section of the timeline that is more than two years old).
5. Browsing through someone’s “Friends”.
6. Clicking on the “Map” section of their profile. (Sidenote: If you’re the type of person who signs in to their gym on Facebook every time they go, I hope people Stage 4 Creep you so you’re judged accordingly.)
7. Looking through someone’s “About” section and using any links to their Twitter/Instagram/Pinterest/LinkedIn/Neopets accounts for further creeping purposes.
8. Doing anything else that calls the expression “Stranger Danger” to mind.
Any of the behaviours listed in Stage 3 are also classified as Stage 4 behaviours if they take place on the profile of someone who you don’t actually have as a Facebook Friend. Let’s be real, we’ve all done it. Wait… You haven’t? Oh. Um, neither have I! That would be totally weird. Haha! Ha… Anyways. Stage 4 Creeping episodes can last anywhere from an hour to a lifetime (I’m looking at you, dudes who message pickup lines to girls they don’t know), and the “I saw it on my homepage!” defense DEFINITELY doesn’t hold true. Which is unfortunate, because if anyone’s going to be at the bad side of a lawsuit, it’s going to be a Stage 4 Creeper.
So there you have it: the four stages of Facebook creeping. Now, you might be thinking to yourself “This is the least accurate thing I’ve ever read, where did this girl get her facts from?” Well, let me tell you: I got them from some random person’s “About Me” section. PLOT TWIST! Nah, I’m just kidding. I obviously used science, didn’t you read to ANYTHING I said at the beginning? Geez. Anyways, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go study s- …Ooh, a new album! It’s creeping time.
Tuesday 12 February 2013
Why EVERYONE should love Valentine's Day.
Valentine’s Day sure faces a strange amount of hatred for a holiday that’s supposed to be all about love. For every E-card or mushy Facebook status I see each year, there are at least three jaded comments about how stupid the whole thing is waiting just around the corner. While I’m sure that some people have valid reasons for their deep-seated resentment toward the annual candy heart hullaballoo (the haunting memory of a childhood pet dying in a freak accident on the fourteenth of February, for example), the excuses provided by the overwhelming majority just ain’t cutting it for me. In my opinion, unless you’re one of the aforementioned individuals with PTSD from a tragic Valentine’s Day passed, there’s really no reason that you shouldn’t love it. And I’m about to put myself up to the momentous task of proving that to you. I’ve drafted a list of the five main categories of Valentine’s Day haters, and I’m going to attempt to shut down their arguments one by one. Will I succeed? Maybe, maybe not. But I’m trying to avoid writing a paper right now so this seems as good a method of procrastination as any. Alright, LET’S DO THIS THING.
H8r Group #1: Single girls.
Out of all of the Valentine’s Day haters known to man, single girls are the most aggressive by far. We’ve all heard or uttered something along the lines of this during early February: “Ugh, I HATE Valentine’s Day. It’s such a stupid holiday! YOU BITCH, I’M NOT JUST SAYING THAT BECAUSE IT MAKES ME ACUTELY AWARE OF HOW SINGLE I AM, HOW DARE YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT?!” Despite their extremely convincing lies about why they hate Valentine’s Day, single girls really just hate it because it does, in fact, make them acutely aware of how single they are. But ladies: it doesn’t have to be a bad thing! Being single allows you to partake in several fun Valentine’s traditions that “those stupid whores with boyfriends” can’t. While they’re out and about with their significant others, you know what you can to do? The following are just a handful of options:
1. Wear sweatpants and neglect your personal hygiene.
2. Get fat.
3. Get drunk.
4. Watch The Notebook and ugly-cry (Bonus: You can wipe your tears and snot on your sweatpants if you feel so inclined!)
5. Bond with your gal pals about how stupid and smelly boys are.
6. Get really drunk.
7. Take comfort in the fact that no one is creeping your couple photos on Facebook and fighting the urge to passive-aggressively comment about “how cute you two are!”
8. Be that person who creeps couple photos on Facebook and fights the urge to passive-aggressively comment about how cute couples are.
9. Did I mention that you can get drunk?
10. Seriously, just get drunk.
If you keep those ideas in mind, I guarantee you’ll have a new favourite holiday by the 15th. And a helpful life tip: maybe if you stopped whining so much, you’d get a boyfriend. Haha, just kidding! …Well that actually might be kind of helpful. In a nice way?
H8r Group #2: Guys in general.
The feelings of the male population toward Valentine’s Day are more of apathy than of hatred, but they still aren’t loving it so I’m sassing them out anyways. If you’re a single guy, only a simple realization stands between you and a newfound passion for the holiday: single girls get super desperate around Valentine’s Day, and if you play your cards right you can totally get laid. There you go, it’s as easy as that! Guys in relationships have less of an incentive to hop on St. Valentine (in retrospect that sounds a lot different than I intended it to…) since they get action on a more consistent basis. But boys, take the following into consideration: You’ve forgotten your girlfriend’s birthday three years in a row. You fart under the blankets and trap her within them on a daily basis. And she TOTALLY saw you staring at that other chick’s rack on your four-month anniversary. Dude, YOU OWE HER. Fortunately, statistics have shown that betches love Valentine’s Day, so it provides the perfect opportunity for you to redeem yourself. Now I’m sure some of you gents are under the misguided impression that girls are impossible to shop for and that she won’t be happy with anything that falls short of an underwear-clad cutout of David Beckham. You, good sirs, ARE WRONG (although the Beckham cutout would be an awesome gift. Just saying.) It’s RIDICULOUSLY easy to get a girl a satisfactory Valentine’s Day present. There are four sure-thing gift categories to select from: candy/chocolates, stuffed animals, flowers, and jewelry (the shinier, the better). So take half an hour out of your day, buy your significant other a teddy bear with a heart sewn between its paws AND STOP STARING AT THAT CHICK’S RACK DID YOU NOT LISTEN TO ANYTHING I JUST SAID?!
H8r Group #3: Anti-Capitalist conspiracy theorists.
Everyone has that one friend who kvetches about how Valentine’s Day is some huge capitalist money grab that preys upon our desires for material validation in our relationships and blah dee blah blah blah. I have one thing to say to them: So what? Even if that is the truth and we’re all being manipulated into buying cinnamon hearts by powerful corporations, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal. It probably does wonders for the economy; think of all the employment opportunities it creates! Somewhere out there is a tiny factory worker named Mowgli who spends his days painstakingly inscribing candy hearts with adorable captions. It is his life’s greatest passion. If Valentine’s Day is eradicated on the grounds of being overly capitalistic, poor little Mowgli will be out of a job and his existence will be void of a purpose. If that isn’t heart wrenching enough for you, please consider the fact that Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character in 500 Days of Summer works in the greeting card industry. The greeting card industry produces Valentine’s Day cards. Thus, if you continue to hate upon the occasion, JGL suffers. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT, YOU HORRIBLE WRETCH? Didn’t think so. (#JGLforPope)
H8r Group #4: Hippies who think that love should be celebrated every day of the year.
People who denounce Valentine’s Day on the grounds that it makes it seem like we should only celebrate love only one day a year seem like they’re coming from the right place, but they’re still not escaping my wrath. I agree that it would be just peachy if people “celebrated love” every single day, but the fact of the matter is that people don’t. In our fast-paced society, people often forget to take the time to do little things for their loved ones, so as sad as it might seem, we really do need a set holiday to give us a shove in the direction of Hallmark and Godiva. Oh, and this one’s a real zinger: if you’re so opposed to setting aside one day of the year to celebrate something special, it’s probably best if we just cancel your birthday. After all, shouldn’t your life be celebrated every day of the year? Yeah. I went there. HOW DO YOU LIKE DEM APPLES? Wow, that escalated quickly. I’ll just stop. Moving on!
H8r Group #5: Cupid.
Cupid seems like the last person who would hate Valentine’s Day, but in recent years quite the opposite has been true. Now a fully-grown, overweight 45 year-old man with high blood pressure and a receding hairline, Cupid has grown tired of having to slap on the ol’ diaper once a year and prancing around performing what he deems to be the “primitive task” of shooting arrows. He works nine to five at an insurance agency every other day of the year in order to support the three children he has with his wife, the Tooth Fairy, and claims that he’s “stressed out enough as it is”. Well, you know what Cupid? You know WHAT?! I… I actually don’t have a rebuttle. I have to be honest, I feel bad for the guy. Maybe we should give him the year off. Hey, maybe Legolas could fill in for him, he’s a fantastic archer! And I most certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Orlando Bloom in a diaper. Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed.
Now here’s where I get a little mushy. All jokes aside, I do think that Valentine’s Day is a great holiday. It’s not just about flowers and candy and rubbing your relationship status in everyone’s face. It’s about love. Not just romantic love, but friendly love and family love too. Try to think back to the kindergarten days when we used to give corny Star Wars or Barbie themed cards to every single one of our classmates, maybe even with a Hershey’s kiss stuck to the front if we were feeling generous. If you think of Valentine’s Day in that context, it’s hard to keep on disliking it. I mean really, what’s not to love? Pun fully intended. Awww yeah.
H8r Group #1: Single girls.
Out of all of the Valentine’s Day haters known to man, single girls are the most aggressive by far. We’ve all heard or uttered something along the lines of this during early February: “Ugh, I HATE Valentine’s Day. It’s such a stupid holiday! YOU BITCH, I’M NOT JUST SAYING THAT BECAUSE IT MAKES ME ACUTELY AWARE OF HOW SINGLE I AM, HOW DARE YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT?!” Despite their extremely convincing lies about why they hate Valentine’s Day, single girls really just hate it because it does, in fact, make them acutely aware of how single they are. But ladies: it doesn’t have to be a bad thing! Being single allows you to partake in several fun Valentine’s traditions that “those stupid whores with boyfriends” can’t. While they’re out and about with their significant others, you know what you can to do? The following are just a handful of options:
1. Wear sweatpants and neglect your personal hygiene.
2. Get fat.
3. Get drunk.
4. Watch The Notebook and ugly-cry (Bonus: You can wipe your tears and snot on your sweatpants if you feel so inclined!)
5. Bond with your gal pals about how stupid and smelly boys are.
6. Get really drunk.
7. Take comfort in the fact that no one is creeping your couple photos on Facebook and fighting the urge to passive-aggressively comment about “how cute you two are!”
8. Be that person who creeps couple photos on Facebook and fights the urge to passive-aggressively comment about how cute couples are.
9. Did I mention that you can get drunk?
10. Seriously, just get drunk.
If you keep those ideas in mind, I guarantee you’ll have a new favourite holiday by the 15th. And a helpful life tip: maybe if you stopped whining so much, you’d get a boyfriend. Haha, just kidding! …Well that actually might be kind of helpful. In a nice way?
H8r Group #2: Guys in general.
The feelings of the male population toward Valentine’s Day are more of apathy than of hatred, but they still aren’t loving it so I’m sassing them out anyways. If you’re a single guy, only a simple realization stands between you and a newfound passion for the holiday: single girls get super desperate around Valentine’s Day, and if you play your cards right you can totally get laid. There you go, it’s as easy as that! Guys in relationships have less of an incentive to hop on St. Valentine (in retrospect that sounds a lot different than I intended it to…) since they get action on a more consistent basis. But boys, take the following into consideration: You’ve forgotten your girlfriend’s birthday three years in a row. You fart under the blankets and trap her within them on a daily basis. And she TOTALLY saw you staring at that other chick’s rack on your four-month anniversary. Dude, YOU OWE HER. Fortunately, statistics have shown that betches love Valentine’s Day, so it provides the perfect opportunity for you to redeem yourself. Now I’m sure some of you gents are under the misguided impression that girls are impossible to shop for and that she won’t be happy with anything that falls short of an underwear-clad cutout of David Beckham. You, good sirs, ARE WRONG (although the Beckham cutout would be an awesome gift. Just saying.) It’s RIDICULOUSLY easy to get a girl a satisfactory Valentine’s Day present. There are four sure-thing gift categories to select from: candy/chocolates, stuffed animals, flowers, and jewelry (the shinier, the better). So take half an hour out of your day, buy your significant other a teddy bear with a heart sewn between its paws AND STOP STARING AT THAT CHICK’S RACK DID YOU NOT LISTEN TO ANYTHING I JUST SAID?!
H8r Group #3: Anti-Capitalist conspiracy theorists.
Everyone has that one friend who kvetches about how Valentine’s Day is some huge capitalist money grab that preys upon our desires for material validation in our relationships and blah dee blah blah blah. I have one thing to say to them: So what? Even if that is the truth and we’re all being manipulated into buying cinnamon hearts by powerful corporations, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal. It probably does wonders for the economy; think of all the employment opportunities it creates! Somewhere out there is a tiny factory worker named Mowgli who spends his days painstakingly inscribing candy hearts with adorable captions. It is his life’s greatest passion. If Valentine’s Day is eradicated on the grounds of being overly capitalistic, poor little Mowgli will be out of a job and his existence will be void of a purpose. If that isn’t heart wrenching enough for you, please consider the fact that Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character in 500 Days of Summer works in the greeting card industry. The greeting card industry produces Valentine’s Day cards. Thus, if you continue to hate upon the occasion, JGL suffers. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT, YOU HORRIBLE WRETCH? Didn’t think so. (#JGLforPope)
H8r Group #4: Hippies who think that love should be celebrated every day of the year.
People who denounce Valentine’s Day on the grounds that it makes it seem like we should only celebrate love only one day a year seem like they’re coming from the right place, but they’re still not escaping my wrath. I agree that it would be just peachy if people “celebrated love” every single day, but the fact of the matter is that people don’t. In our fast-paced society, people often forget to take the time to do little things for their loved ones, so as sad as it might seem, we really do need a set holiday to give us a shove in the direction of Hallmark and Godiva. Oh, and this one’s a real zinger: if you’re so opposed to setting aside one day of the year to celebrate something special, it’s probably best if we just cancel your birthday. After all, shouldn’t your life be celebrated every day of the year? Yeah. I went there. HOW DO YOU LIKE DEM APPLES? Wow, that escalated quickly. I’ll just stop. Moving on!
H8r Group #5: Cupid.
Cupid seems like the last person who would hate Valentine’s Day, but in recent years quite the opposite has been true. Now a fully-grown, overweight 45 year-old man with high blood pressure and a receding hairline, Cupid has grown tired of having to slap on the ol’ diaper once a year and prancing around performing what he deems to be the “primitive task” of shooting arrows. He works nine to five at an insurance agency every other day of the year in order to support the three children he has with his wife, the Tooth Fairy, and claims that he’s “stressed out enough as it is”. Well, you know what Cupid? You know WHAT?! I… I actually don’t have a rebuttle. I have to be honest, I feel bad for the guy. Maybe we should give him the year off. Hey, maybe Legolas could fill in for him, he’s a fantastic archer! And I most certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Orlando Bloom in a diaper. Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed.
Now here’s where I get a little mushy. All jokes aside, I do think that Valentine’s Day is a great holiday. It’s not just about flowers and candy and rubbing your relationship status in everyone’s face. It’s about love. Not just romantic love, but friendly love and family love too. Try to think back to the kindergarten days when we used to give corny Star Wars or Barbie themed cards to every single one of our classmates, maybe even with a Hershey’s kiss stuck to the front if we were feeling generous. If you think of Valentine’s Day in that context, it’s hard to keep on disliking it. I mean really, what’s not to love? Pun fully intended. Awww yeah.
Thursday 3 January 2013
New Year's Resolutions That Don't Suck.
I’m not the biggest fan of New Year’s resolutions. People always make the same, generic ones and they always end up the same, tragic way. “I’m going to eat well and exercise!” Works out for two weeks then wakes up cuddling with a deep dish pizza. “I’m going to drink less!” Derailed by a depressed wine binge on Valentine’s Day. We all know the drill. For the first few weeks, you’re convinced that the goal you pledged to achieve while double-fisting bottles of cheap champagne on December 31st is totally attainable, but eventually you veer off course and forget the resolution all together. When I was eight my New Year’s resolution was to harness my (yet to be discovered) magical powers in preparation for my acceptance to Hogwarts, and as you can see that one didn’t work out too well. But despite the fact that my resolution ultimately failed (as far as the muggle population knows, at least), you have to hand it to my chubby, preteen self for coming up with something that differed from the norm. New Year’s resolutions should be something different and creative, and that’s precisely what inspired this post. After a bit of brainstorming, I created a list of twenty-five New Year’s resolutions that don’t totally suck. Hopefully one of them will strike a chord with you and make you realize that your commitment to spending more time with your family in the coming year is lame. Okay, that’s actually a good one... But so are the ones I came up with!
In 2013, I…
1. Will try to expand my photography repertoire beyond just selfies.
2. Will stop dousing myself in Axe for the sake of the ozone layer.
3. Won’t harp on my friends for eating real food just because I’m on a post-holiday health kick.
4. Will try to throw up and/or pass out in more appropriate locations while drunk.
5. Will stop constantly talking about how adorable my pets are regardless of how true it may be (just LOOK at that sweet little face!)
6. Will learn the difference between you’re and your (also there, their and they’re if I am feeling ambitious).
7. Won’t tell people I’m not wearing any makeup when I actually am (Kardashian ladies, this one’s for you).
8. Will stop my incessant chatter about Justin Bieber/One Direction/That one Australian guy who’s probably like twelve years old even if I think they’re totally dreamy.
9. Will drink more. YOLO.
10. Will stop saying YOLO.
11. Will make sure my nasal cavities are clear before writing tests since no one likes a sniffler.
12. Will delete Call Me Maybe off of my iPod and never sing it again.
13. Will enjoy things in moderation instead of obsessing over how they’re supposedly “bad” for me. Except for crack. Or heroin. Don’t do drugs, kids.
14. Will strive to wear something other than sweatpants and a hoodie at least once a week during the winter.
15. Will learn to chew gum without sounding like a cow.
16. Will try to be less bitter towards happy couples. Unless they’re really obnoxious. Matching sweaters? Really?
17. Will accept the fact that the Harry Potter series is over and stop bringing out my souvenir wand in public.
18. Won’t read the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy on the subway since it makes my fellow passengers uncomfortable.
19. Will make an effort to maintain good oral hygiene or at the very least pop a mint if I notice people leaning away from me when I talk.
20. Won’t share intimate details about my bodily functions on the internet even if I expel something really unusual and think that everyone must know about it.
21. Won’t make the duck face in photos under any circumstances.
22. Will learn how to walk in heels without looking like a newborn foal with a stunted leg running on ice.
23. Will obey the Ten Commandments of Facebook (Not familiar with them? Check out my post from May! Not that I’m shamelessly self-promoting or anything. How did this link get here?! http://pleasejusthumourme.blogspot.ca/2012/05/ten-commandments-of-facebook.html)
24. Will accept the fact that Victoria’s Secret Angels are not mere mortals and stop comparing myself to them.
25. Will get back together with Taylor Swift despite what she says.
If none of these non-sucky resolutions tickle your fancy, fear not. I withheld one final resolution from the list and it’s the best one of all: In 2013, I just won’t make a New Year’s resolution. There’s really no way you can break a resolution like that, so your year can’t possibly be a failure. Well, unless you’re Lindsay Lohan. Poor girl. Happy New Year!
In 2013, I…
1. Will try to expand my photography repertoire beyond just selfies.
2. Will stop dousing myself in Axe for the sake of the ozone layer.
3. Won’t harp on my friends for eating real food just because I’m on a post-holiday health kick.
4. Will try to throw up and/or pass out in more appropriate locations while drunk.
5. Will stop constantly talking about how adorable my pets are regardless of how true it may be (just LOOK at that sweet little face!)
6. Will learn the difference between you’re and your (also there, their and they’re if I am feeling ambitious).
7. Won’t tell people I’m not wearing any makeup when I actually am (Kardashian ladies, this one’s for you).
8. Will stop my incessant chatter about Justin Bieber/One Direction/That one Australian guy who’s probably like twelve years old even if I think they’re totally dreamy.
9. Will drink more. YOLO.
10. Will stop saying YOLO.
11. Will make sure my nasal cavities are clear before writing tests since no one likes a sniffler.
12. Will delete Call Me Maybe off of my iPod and never sing it again.
13. Will enjoy things in moderation instead of obsessing over how they’re supposedly “bad” for me. Except for crack. Or heroin. Don’t do drugs, kids.
14. Will strive to wear something other than sweatpants and a hoodie at least once a week during the winter.
15. Will learn to chew gum without sounding like a cow.
16. Will try to be less bitter towards happy couples. Unless they’re really obnoxious. Matching sweaters? Really?
17. Will accept the fact that the Harry Potter series is over and stop bringing out my souvenir wand in public.
18. Won’t read the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy on the subway since it makes my fellow passengers uncomfortable.
19. Will make an effort to maintain good oral hygiene or at the very least pop a mint if I notice people leaning away from me when I talk.
20. Won’t share intimate details about my bodily functions on the internet even if I expel something really unusual and think that everyone must know about it.
21. Won’t make the duck face in photos under any circumstances.
22. Will learn how to walk in heels without looking like a newborn foal with a stunted leg running on ice.
23. Will obey the Ten Commandments of Facebook (Not familiar with them? Check out my post from May! Not that I’m shamelessly self-promoting or anything. How did this link get here?! http://pleasejusthumourme.blogspot.ca/2012/05/ten-commandments-of-facebook.html)
24. Will accept the fact that Victoria’s Secret Angels are not mere mortals and stop comparing myself to them.
25. Will get back together with Taylor Swift despite what she says.
If none of these non-sucky resolutions tickle your fancy, fear not. I withheld one final resolution from the list and it’s the best one of all: In 2013, I just won’t make a New Year’s resolution. There’s really no way you can break a resolution like that, so your year can’t possibly be a failure. Well, unless you’re Lindsay Lohan. Poor girl. Happy New Year!
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