Sad, hurt, angry and upset...

Originally posted in January...

So.... I'm not having sex.

Like right now for instance. I'm blogging and listening to Mr. Bruce Springstein like the hurtbag I am.

Like, I haven't had sex in a year.

OK, more accurately, I haven't had sex this year.

Let's not call this a manbbatical, but I'm def. taking a break from idiots and assholes.

Before this post turns into a BLAH, BLAH, BLAH I'm ooooolllllld, men suuuuuckkkk, will I die alllooooonnnee? Boohoo, Bridget Jones pity-party... I'd just like to point out that even the best of them with even the best of intentions, are essentially, cocks who think with their cocks.

So without further adieu (and because, shockingly, too many people read this blog for me to post details) here's another vague teaser, "Everything I need to know about men I learned in college"

Published six months after the fact...

Well. You know how it is by now. I stop posting when life gets interesting. Sorry that I'm too busy living my life to blog about living my life.

Besides. There are just certain things that a lady n'er blogs about.


And as for the report card? Exceeded expectations.

*editor's note: this is about sex! teeheehee. Aww... this was the makings of a delightful free ride...

Choose your own adventure...

Sometimes, you just have a killer night.

And, well, sometimes killer nights just can't be shared on ones blog.

But this glass of red wine is urging me to spin a yarn. But, you'll have to fill in some of the blanks for yourself.

FAQ: Why YOU need to get tested!

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Bah dah dun da-da-da- Daaaaahhhhh!!!

So... ladies and gentlemen... this is... my 100th post!!




Break out the champagne, because against all odds, I've actually followed through on something.

Why the Playboy cover, you ask? I know you've come to expect nothing but wholesomeness from this blog.

But I was google-image-searching "100" and everything was just... so dry... and boring. I needed... something... sexier!

So naturally I searched "100 sexy" and here's what popped up.

Attended a web workshop today. I learned the basics of Blogger and how to set up a blog.

Errr.....

Did learn how I can embed audio files and make a wicked-cool slide show, so (perhaps) you can look forward to that in the future. But don't get your hopes up. I like breaking promises.

Also learned that if it's on YouTube, I can embed it! Hurrah for disregarding copyright laws! Although, apparently I only post "random and obscure music".

Now, here's a good song. No offence to Kool and the Gang.

Continuing with my Jebus theme... (for you, CG, <3  )

I don't recall the one where Carrie went to the free-clinic...

It's a rite of passage and a necessary reality for any sexually active woman in the city.

That's righty-o, faithful readers. Tomorrow, I'm treckin' to the free-clinic for my "yearly" HIV and STI testing.

All in the name of "research".

My rational self assures me that I have nothing to worry about.

But the worry-wort in me? Well that's a different story.

Ah... the infamous sex-date...

Oh ya by the way, we're being stalked. Or at the very least, googled.

Well, two can play at that game, my friend.

And perhaps, to you, I pose the question, 'didn't I always know I was being watched?'

Just call me a narcissistic exhibitionist.

Oh, and I totally messed with the HTML coding, so that embedded videos will show before the jump on the home page. No biggie.

With the Internet, and even with the sex-beat, I'm starting to realize, that if you can imaginate it, then it exists, and people are doing it.

It's a rule that can be applied in all aspects of life.

So... Date Three?

If ya can't handle the videos, I suggest you don't move on...

*Warning* advertisements for feminine hygiene products ahead!

Is this love that I'm feeling?

Why you should watch Mad Men To fantasize about Don Draper, who exhudes pure sex. _________________________________________________________ Or maybe Ken Cosgrove's Madison Avenue Charm is more your style. _________________________________________________________ Or, if Silver Foxes are more your style, there's Roger Sterling. _________________________________________________________ I love 'em a little nerdy, like Harry Crane. _________________________________________________________ Paul Kinsey is a delicious mix of pomp and self-consciousness and culture.

Bievenue a Montreal: Acheter et Magasiner...

Comment passez-vous tout votre argent quand vous etes dans Montreal: Part 1 in a series.

So the big to-do was the underground mall, La Ville Souterraine or RESO. All the travel literature, and people on the street all seemed to be urging us to check out the WORLD'S. LARGEST. UNDERGROUND. SHOPPING!!!! (yaaaa!!!haaaa!!!yeahhhh!!)

I don't understand the big draw. It's stores. Underground. Like a mall. Only more artificial and zero natural light. I don't even really like malls. I much prefer walking down a strip.

Besides, as I told Irish: "we have underground shopping in Toronto."

"We do?" she replied.

Check and mate.

The Eaton Centre was no where near as impressive as Toronto's. But the shopping on Ste. Catherine Ouest, just outside of the centre was good. Similar to Yonge and Dundas.

Simmons is a place to check out: a fashionable department store, exclusive to Montreal and Quebec City. The prices are pretty reasonable, and I think you'll find that Montrealers are more cutting edge than their Toronto cousins. The European trends tend to hit Montreal before Toronto. But then again, you're running the risk of looking like a freak for several years before the trend hits the general population. 

__________________________________________________________

Like these high-waisted bloomer polka-dot shorts.

H&M, $19.95

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Or, a ruffle-shoulder tee.

H&M, $14.95

__________________________________________________________

Or even a fancy veil, suitable for all your mourning needs.

H&M, $9.95
__________________________________________________________

Went a little bit crazy at H&M. Found some more studs. (Trying to bring 'em back. Spread the word.)

H&M, $4.95
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Of course, needed more large sunglasses. They're kinda my thing.
H&M, $5
__________________________________________________________

Vieux Montreal (Old Montreal) was by far our favourite. Its where the artists come to sell their wares. Definitely check out the original art, sold on the street by the artist. Acrylic, water colour, lithograph, photography and even caricatures; there's something for everyone. Unique jewelry, clothing and gifts can be procured here as well. Plus, the cobblestone walkways just give Vieux Montreal such a delightful old-world feel.

One thing we noticed was Montrealers' love of stationary shops. I have never seen so many shops devoted to paper. And such large and extensive shops! Not a great place for two journalists to walk into. Nevertheless, we showed restraint, purchasing one notebook each.

Sure, everything we saw you could pretty much find in Toronto. But Montrealers have the luxury of one stop shopping. And bonus? Blank paper is bilingual!

I couldn't resist the small notebook with the sentiment, "Une bonne action n'est jamais perdue." (A good deed is never lost). $6.50.

 

Ya, I bought a sex book. What's it to ya?

Backstory: For Beat Magazine class, Irish, Brown, Grey and I (henceforth, known as the Douches) are creating, writing and producing a magazine and website about 'sexual education as a lifelong process'. Sex-ed doesn't end after highschool.

Sexology was a magazine that launched in 1933, and became defunct in the seventies. It was considered humorous, informative and frank. And sometimes ludicrous. It was certainly risque, and paved the way for magazines such as Cosmo and Playboy. Ironically, Sexology met its inevitable demise, because it couldn't complete with the frankness of its predecessors.

The book is a compilation, "The best of Sexology: The Illustrated Magazine of Sex Science: Kinky and kooky excerpts from America's first sex magazine." Got the book from the most delightful store (origins, currently unknown) which had all sorts of useless yet delightful wares.

Tea bags with celebrities from Audrey Hepburn to Bob Marley to Obama chilling in your tea cup, jacuzzi style. Fake promotional pens from 'Springfield Sexual Addiction Center' and 'Dr. Lance Hughes, Proctology'. Bloody shower curtains. Precious kits for pigtails or explorers. And not to mention a great collection of uber entertaining books. Like Sexology. $16.

It's worth it to check out the gift shop in the Notre Dame Basilica. (I know, I know). It's actually pretty classy. Rosaries, crosses and nice gift items for all your Catholic needs for Baptisms, First Communions, Weddings, etc. I bought a new magnet for my fridge collection. (Seriously, the easiest travel collection to maintain. not to mention cheap!) $2.


So, there you have it. Shopaholic takes Montreal! Stay tuned tomorrow for the second installment in my Bievennue a Montreal series. Manger et Diner: Comment vous pouvez gagner du poids quand vous etes dans Montreal.

Like an animal..

I am feeling generous again and personal. I was digging through my memory box to find the list of requirements I drafted for a gentleman (five-ish years ago.) My search was in vain, however. Perhaps I discarded it in a cleaning frenzy.

But I did find a little treat! Here, for the first time, is... The Ronada Codex!! yaaa! cheeer! yaaaa!

Back story: this was the apartment rules my friend and I drafted before living together. She was my first (and so far, only) roommate. I'm Ron, she's Ada. Hence: Ronada. And we were never nearly as slutty as the codex implies.

In fact, we both ended up in long-term relationships shortly after the codex was drafted (one drunken night). She's still with him to this day. But as you know, I'm single and ready to mingle ;)

Think this would be appropriate.

And without further adieu, I present, The Ronada Codex.

1. No sex in shared living spaces. Shower is fair game, but please clean up after.
2. Keep volume down during sex. Occasional moan is permitted. If bed squeaks/bangs, please readjust.
3. Use key-hook method to alert roommate that you brought a penis over.
4. Call/text to alert roommate you're bringing in an outsider.
5. Perform tailcounts regularly.
6. Max 1 "kick roommate out of apartment" card per month. 1 week notice preferred. Preferably no overnights.
7. No bringing strange men home for penis function.
8. You drop the pie, you eat the pie. Alert roommate.
9. Don't give out home phone #.
10. Use common sense & have courtesy and respect for roommate. Any operational issues will be resolved via the use of Blockbuster-approved tools.

Wow. I'll have you know that I lived by these guidelines religiously.

1. no comment!!
2. ditto!!
3. I enjoy that we refer to mens as "a penis", like they have no other function.
4. This rule was a special request from me. I was in the early stages of a pantsless apartment. My apartment has a no-pants rule. And the scary thing is, lots of people abide by my rule. Skirts, shorts, stretchy-pants, PJ's, sweats are OK. No dress pants or jeans are to be worn in the apartment. So this rule was created so I would never be caught with my pants down (literally) when she's bringing a friend over!
5. We had a lot of cats. You had to count them before you went out, to ensure you hadn't locked one in the bathroom or on the balcony, or hell, in the hallway.
6. Ya. We took advantage of this one a few times!
7. We weren't ho's!
8. One time, we dropped a pie on the floor. And then proceeded to eat it off the floor. Much to the disgust of many. Which sparked the great, floor-pie debate. Would you eat your favourite pie, that you splurged on, that you really couldn't afford, that only a teeny-tiny sliver had been consumed, and the whole damn thing fell on your freshly-washed floor, and you could clearly identify the unscathed portions? Fuck, you KNOW you would do it!
9. We never even got a home phone!
10. Ah, the only really useful rule. We both worked at Blockbuster at the time, and had learned many stupid decision-making models, and conflict-resolution formulas.

This makes me think though. What would my roommate codex look like today?

V-Ron rules!! The first rule is: there are no rules! But here are some anyways...

1. Spend as little time as possible within the apartment.
2. No-pants permitted within the apartment.
3. No smoking.
4. No loud noises after 11.
5. Singing in the shower: a necessity.
6. Visitors must wait a minimum of 5 minutes in the hallway while I frantically pick up anything embarrassing off the floor.
7. Visitors must be warned, and accepting, about the mess.
8. Clean once per month. Then make a huge mess. Then repeat.
9. Food is only a suggestion. Empty fridges are nothing to be embarrassed about.
10. All chilling must be performed on the bed, due to lack of space and lack of couch.

Wow. Just realised, I have a pretty sad life.