What The?

OK... This just happened to me... and I kind of feel like I need to write about it before I forget.

So I'm on the subway coming home and I'm sitting there, minding my own business as one is apt to do on the subway in this town lest one happens to sit next to a potential stalker disguised as a musician... Hey... don't think it couldn't happen... because it could... and it did... So there I am sitting and doing the crossword puzzle when I do glance up and see a 20-something guy and girl huddling amongst themselves. They are pointing somewhere down the car and whispering... Conspiring... And then they proceed to go somewhere towards where they were pointing. I promptly forgot about the two white jean-coated plotters.

Until, that is, this obnoxious voice began booming through the car. Now, I am not sure how many of you reading this have been on a TTS subway car. If memory serves me correctly, they are slightly larger than a Sky Train car in Vancouver, maybe about 2.5 times the length of your average bus. Not Huber small is my point. So this voice starts up and I glance up to see that the conspirators are now engaged in a conversation with a raging Metro with the slickiest slicked back hair that I have ever seen. I shudder at the thought that there was possibly more grease on that head than all the oil that was produced by the OPEC countries last year combined, but my crossword puzzle called so I tried to ignore the Metro...

But alas, I could not.

It started off so subtly that at first I just thought that this couple had just randomly started chatting to the suit. And that's when I noticed that their matching white jackets were no coincidence. With a giant "Garnier" logo embroidered on the back, I suddenly realized that these folks were trying to sell the metro something. And then I saw that they were physically holding some products... And as the conversation grew ever louder, I began to wonder what the hell was going on. The booming voice of the metro made it IMPOSSIBLE to not overhear the conversation and I was mostly just annoyed that he was invading my personal ear space... Dude, I get that you really like the smell of Garnier Fructis products, but truly, I don't give a rats patoot...

And then the light bulb went on. Ding.

I had become a victim of what I can only describe as the advertising world's version of being Punk'd. In a normal world, Metro or no, it is just not possible for a guy to be that enthusiastic about fruity smelling hair care products, let alone whether or not said hair care products are available in gel or spray, or whether the gel and the spray both have that great fruity smelling aroma... And on and on and on and so forth. As I could barely contain my laughter, I wondered whether they actually thought they were fooling anyone. But just when I thought it could not get any more obvious...

"What a minute, are you saying that YOU, random other metro, who happens to be sitting down right next to where these Garnier reps happened to have just randomly approached yours truly and I just so HAPPENED to have a familiarity of Garnier Fructis products greater than most women... are you saying, fellow greasy albeit shorter haired metro, that YOU have this product in you hair right now? Right this second? Is that what you are saying? Wow, that's great... I love the look of your hair, the texture is amazing... So, tell me Garnier Fructis reps... And be honest... I don't want to a sales pitch, I want to know... is this stuff expensive... seriously tell me... And no bull... is this stuff going to cost me a fortune? No? Ok, so tell me where I can get it. Shoppers? I can get it at Shoppers? Awesome... Thanks... you guys are awesome..."

And then, because at that point only a mentally-challenged amoeba would not have clued into what had just gone down, all 4 of them left at the same stop, which coincidentally was the same moment that all of us poor schmucks on the subway had been given all the information that the script had said to give...

We knew that it smelled fruity and pleasant... We knew that the product was available in spray and gel, and worked on both long and short hair... We knew that men AND women could use this product... We knew that the product was inexpensive... We knew where we could get it... we knew that we that these people clearly could not get a job where they made any contribution to society whatsoever...

Good Times.

Bea 'As God as my witness, I shall never use Fructis again' Petty

Are You Down With OPP?

Of course you are? Everyone is. It is just common courtesy to respect other people’s property. Every last homey knows that. The only person who seems unaware of this is Hugh.

The last week has been a fairly sleepless one. Why? Because my cat’s newest favorite hobby is no longer climbing up the painting, but climbing up my clothes hanging in the wardrobe and swinging from them. And when I say “clothes”, I mean the last 2 articles still remaining on their hangers. Oh, I started the week by re-hanging everything in the morning, or after I got home from work, but then realized that re-hanging everything just gave him the fodder from which to fuel his fire… slowly but ever so surely my clothes have been slipping from their hanging slumber on to a pile at the bottom of my wardrobe. And I have done nothing to rectify this situation over the last few days…

So now I have turned to locking him out of my room at night and wearing earplugs to drown out the sounds of his incessant mewing, and clawing at the door… and running up the stairs only to throw his body weight against said door. Thud.

But sometimes I give in. He sounds so sad… maybe he’s learned his lesson. He is just a kitten after all. He doesn’t know right from wrong. Aw, Hugh, sweetie… Ok, you can come in, as long as you come onto the bed and curl up and go to sleep… And so open the door I do, only for him to head straight to the wardrobe and commence his best George of the Jungle impersonation. Bye Hughie, thanks for coming out… door closes once again… ear plugs inserted. Sleep, I need sleep.

If chopping his little balls off doesn’t curb his enthusiasm for destruction, I really do not know what I will do, as I’m pretty sure giving Ritalin to a cat is illegal. What about Valium though? For me I mean, not the cat. Valium would come in handy right about now…

Aw, good kitty… you climb up that shirt and rip it to shreds… That’s a GOOD kitty… ohhhh, look at the pretty clouds…

Bea 'zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz' Petty


This Just In...


So in desperate need of a haircut, away I went to the salon across the street to take advantage of their '25% off if you walk in before 11:30am' special. The result is as follows:

I no longer think that I am even remotely attractive... blue-eyed, freckle-faced or otherwise... unless you can call having been magically transformed from a somewhat-hip 30-something from the year 2006 to a middle-aged woman from the 1950s.

I no longer think that I am smart. A smart person would have been able to articulate that she did not want to go from having very long hair with no bangs to having a short bob with bangs. Clearly, I am not smart.

A person can have the greatest personality in the universe, but if that person never leaves the house due to unfortunate hair... Making people laugh is great, but I prefer to have them laugh with me, as opposed to at me. I guess the bonus is that I will never, ever be id'd.

Meet the new me:

Seriously. If I had blond hair, this is exactly what I would look like. Anyone know a good wig shop?

Pretty is as Pretty Does

Well, it turns out that the former-PNB didn’t do all that badly in his television debut. Last night’s episode showed that he had indeed met someone. Was I surprised? Yes. Was I a little bit displeased? Truthfully? Yes. But probably not for the reasons you think.

It has been forever since I’ve had those kinds of feelings for the guy. When we were hanging out last summer, it was never with any thoughts of romance or things of that sort. I just considered him a good guy, a good friend, a big goof. Nothing more. Card nights in with the roommie were always more fun when the former-PNB was over… despite the two tricksters conspiring together to pad my euchre hand whilst I was in the washroom…

Do you know horrible it feels to be completely losing a game and then pick up your cards to find the BEST possible hand and think ‘Oh My God, Oh My God…Yes, this is it… I am SO going to clean up this round, Ok, keep it together Bea… do NOT let them see that a miracle of miracles has just occurred’… Only to have the two of them burst out laughing and admit that they gave me those cards on purpose… ‘Ha Ha, very FUNNY’. I am still scarred to this day. Seriously. Anyway, my point is that I just think that he’s a good guy and I always enjoyed just hangin out. End of story.

Cut to last night, and lo and behold there was actually a connection between him and one of the girls. Like I said, I was a little shocked. Why? Because I would have thought he would have mentioned it to me, if only in passing. Also why? Because honestly… and if you haven’t ever met bitchy Bea, here ye are… I just didn’t think she was all that attractive. I was surprised that of all the girls on the show, that he would have even considered that particular one. And I will be honest-- my first reaction was something along the lines of “He picked Her over ME?”

Isn’t that horrible?

I felt guilty as soon as the thought entered my brain, and yet I still spent the rest of my waking moments of the day dwelling on the matter. I was specifically concerned that I somehow, as mildly insecure as I am, had managed to have this completely over-inflated opinion of myself. I always thought I was kind of cute… no super model or anything like that, but pretty attractive in a simple blue-eyed, freckle-faced way. I always thought I was kind of smart too… and that I was not completely lacking in the personality department. I have been told that sometimes, I make people laugh.

These thoughts actually had me go to the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. I spent a few minutes looking… REALLY looking at myself and yet, despite needing a haircut in the worst way, I still thought I was kind of cute… in my simple blue-eyed, freckle-faced way.

It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do. As always, I just want former-PNB to be happy and so it really does not matter what I think in the least. I dated a short, balding George Costanza-like Englishman for crying out loud… one never knows what one will be attracted to… But the whole affair has got me wondering…

Most women I know tend to be mildly self-loathing. Very few of us think that we are as attractive as we truly are… we are too fat, our heads are too big, hair too short, or too long, or not the right colour, boobs too small, ass too fat, teeth too crooked etc… But is it possible that there are women out there who actually think they are MORE attractive than they actually are? A reverse self-loathing if you will. Just curious.

Anyhoo, at the end of the day, my evening of self-doubt changed nothing… it was just a little blip in my otherwise orderly and sane world…

I still think I am attractive in my simple blue-eyed, freckle-faced way.

I still think that I am smart.

I still think I have a great personality.

I am still in desperate need of a haircut.

Bea ‘I thought TV was my friend’ Petty


Why is a Cat When it Spins?

Earlier today, whilst trying to find things to occupy myself on the weekend, I decided that I would go to my first Blue Jays game of the season… By myself, which I am happy to do because oddly enough I get oodles of writing done at baseball games. Also, as no one I know is really into baseball, it’s either solo or not at all most of the time. As un-luck would have it, there are no home games this weekend. Curses.

This got me thinking about other instances where things do not always turn out as one expects them to. I am sure everyone has their own set of “Why is it that when…”s. In between my filling in for about 4 people who are away at the current moment, I was able to come up with a short list of my own…

Why is it that when I need to go shopping for clothes I can never find anything I like, and if I do, it is never on sale? And why is it that when I do not need any clothes and/ or am too broke to go shopping for clothes, that I can ALWAYS find EVERYTHING I like AND it is on sale?

Why is it that when I am interested in a guy he is not interested in me back? And why is it that when I am NOT interested in a guy, he is VERY interested in me?

Why is it that when I need to get sleep during the week I never can because that’s when my cat decides that 11pm to 7am is his playtime… on my bed? And why is it that on the weekends, when I get to sleep in, he is a little angel who lets me sleep all night long?

Why is it that when there are no good movies out in the theatres, there are also no good movies available for rent?

Why is it that when I want to be oot and aboot on the weekend, it will be a rainy and dismal day? And why is it that when I am hung over like a son of a bitch it’s the most beautiful sunny and bright day ever?

Why is that when I am watching America’s Next Top Model and I get to the part right when you find out who gets kicked off, that my cat chooses that same moment to walk onto the power bar and shut the whole system down?

Why is it that the day after I put my winter wardrobe away and bring out spring/summer because it has been 20 degrees for an entire week that the weather decides to return to winter once again? (aka… why is it that the day I decide to finally wash my car, it rains…)

Why is it that when a really, really good song comes on my internet radio at work that my internet radio provider chooses that moment to cut off and ask me “if I am still there?”

Why is it that right as my boss is standing over my computer going through some text edits I was working on, that a considerate friends msns me with a “Hey, what’s up beeyatch?”

OK, must stop now… this list could be never ending.



Who Needs a Man...

.... When you have this little guy in your life?

Is it no wonder that I am happy being single?

XXX-tra Good Topic

Without going into the details, I had the… pleasure is not the right word… the satisfaction? No, that’s not right either. Let’s just say the opportunity came up for the old girl to watch a movie with some pretty hardcore pornographic content a short while ago. It actually brought me back to my university days when our residence building would all go to the video store… yep, videos, because DVDs did not yet exist… and rent a selection of adult movies… Foreskin Gump… Classic.

Anyway, so the occasion presented itself and being ever the good sport, I said hey, why the heck not. On went the movie, whose name I cannot remember for the life of me, except I think it might have been “Big Jugs” or something along those lines. And sure, the movie had it’s moments of excitement but I have some observations if I may…

Now, it could have just been that movie in particular but one thing that I noticed was that the camera was never on the guys face. Were they enjoying it? No idea, because I just couldn’t see. Even during the money shots, you never saw their faces. I like watching men’s faces during the deed. Not that I think we women are any different, but men somehow manage to come up with these mugs that look completely hysterical. It takes all my effort not to laugh… because that would be highly inappropriate… but I do look, and enjoy... and secretly laugh nonetheless.

And I know that pretty much the entire thing is phony but do the directors and actors REALLY expect me to believe that the woman is enjoying herself as much as she is vocalizing that she is?

‘Oh, that’s it… bleep me, bleep me with your big blank… bleep me harder… Oh God, yeah… Oh bleep… that’s it, bleep my blank with your big, hard, blank. Oh yeah, it feels soooo good… Ah, bleep… BLEEP MY BLANK, BLEEP ME… HARDER… Oh yeah, I’m going to blank… oh, oh, OH, OH, OH… BLEEEEEEP’

I’m sorry, but as someone who enjoys bleeping, there is just no possible way that anyone going on and on and on like that is actually really, really enjoying it all that much. To me, it speaks to over-compensating just a wee bit. Granted, it is possible that these girls (and other vocalizing types) are multi-taskers to an extraordinary magnitude, but I for one, am usually concentrating too hard on one thing:


And so to go on and on and on at length about your ‘blank’ in my ‘blank’… I would just plain lose concentration… and then the whole exercise becomes completely pointless… because nothing puts Bea in a fouler mood than the guy blanking and not her. I guess I am just the most selfish person in the entire world. So be it.

Bea ‘This blank is your blank’ Petty


The Best Laid Plans...

Further to my posting from Friday, where was thrilled to be doing nothing on Friday night, and equally thrilled to have a mellow Saturday with a friend… T’would seem that the universe had other ideas. No complaints, mind you, as the social season is fast coming upon us and so going out more than the usual is inevitable… Ah, Wednesdays at the Maddy… you cannot come quickly enough…

But when one’s plan is to do a simple dinner and a movie with a friend… and then said friend brings over 2 bottles of wine… and if you have not seen that friend for a while and have much to gab about… and then MXC comes on and so one gets sucked into that… and then you look at the time and think ‘Holy Heck, it’s 8pm… guess we aren’t going to make it to the 8pm movie so screw it, let’s just do dinner'… and then after dinner on the way out one runs into other people who have a knack for twisting rubber arms AND who insist on buying G&T after G&T… which was lucky because although not realized until one returned home, one’s wallet was left at said home, but happily one can blame doing laundry and the bottle+ of wine consumed even before heading out for dinner… one can also thank goodness for belated birthday dinners and very generous commercial real estate agents… sufficed to say one was pretty much 3 sheets to the wind when all was said and done … and then to return home only to find the artist down the hall is having one of his rave-after hour party blowouts… so what was one supposed to do?

Yeah, so… What’s that saying about best intentions?



Another work week is almost at an end. I love Friday nights… more especially I love not doing anything on Friday nights. I am such a lame-o. I don’t know what to say about that.

It could have something to do with just relaxing after a week of work, and knowing that I can sleep in the next morning…

It could also be that quite frequently I have something going on on the Saturday night and being the homebody that I am, I just really like to have one weekend night to flake out.

It could also be that when I am ‘sans-homme’ and full of spring fever, Friday is the BEST night to be home. Two words: Soft Porn. Actually, one of the most fun shows on TV right now, in my opinion, is on tonight. T’is called ‘Sin Cities’. I stumbled across it one night when I was channel surfing… and of course, my never ceasing Brit-fetish mean that there was really no question that if I stumbled upon a show with naked Englishman that I would have no choice…. NO CHOICE… but to stop and check it out. Thus began my Friday night love-affair with my newest celebrity boyfriend. It’s also a travel show… and Bea loves to travel… Ha, travel show, right. Luckily it also features an oft nude and slightly inebriated adorable, albeit somewhat dorky English Bloke… ah, the simple things in life…

If you can think of a better excuse to stay home on a Friday night, then I will… well, I don’t know what, but I’ll do something. Bonus points if it involves a naked Englishman.

Bea “spring is in the air” Petty


Whatever Happened To...

The former-PNB/ULH?

Remember him? Oh come on. Of course you do… from a while back??? We dated for a couple of months, then he broke up with me, popped back into my life last summer with a nice little friendship in the makings… and then he kissed me and BAM… never to be heard from again? Oh, I tried…tried to figure out what happened and never got any response. In fact, I tried as recently as a couple of weeks ago and got berated for being pessimistic that I wouldn’t hear back… and when I wrote back apologizing for thinking that he wouldn’t respond… I never heard back. Weird.

Anyway, I always wondered why he had just suddenly decided to cut me out of his life pretty much at the same time as I was starting to consider him to be quite a good friend in this town O’ Toronto… Was it a) because he kissed me after a few too many beers one night and got freaked out that I might have taken that as a sign that he was interested in me as more than a friend or b) hmmm, there isn’t a ‘b’… I’m pretty sure what happened was ‘a’… but now I KNOW there was a ‘b’.

My former-PNB cut off contact with me because he had bigger and better fish to fry. You see, unbeknownst to yours truly, he decided to quit his day job and become a famous TV personality. It’s true. Girl and I saw him last night. Actually Girl saw him and then called me and left a message something along the lines of

“Hey Bea, it’s me. Just calling to tell you that you should check out this show on the Blank Channel about these single girls and dating and ‘GASP’….”

Silence for about 10 seconds, which worried me because I thought something drastic had happened and then…

“OH MY GAWD… OH MY GAWD… I think that’s former-PNB… I’m freaking out… OH MY GAWD… CALL ME!!!!!” click.

Luckily for her there is more than one way to get a hold of Bea when she has forgotten to turn her phone on since going to the movies last Sunday (“hmmm, I wonder why nobody is calling me…”) so got a hold of me she did and lo and behold, it was indeed the former-PNB. And between laughing hysterically… because that’s what girls do… and laughing hysterically some more, I was very proud of my little ‘former’… Go PNB Go… and he was doing great, the girls all seemed to like him. Sadly I was overtaken by a fit of the giggles at about the same time that his fortunes turned… something about sex and bad breath and 4am…

And now I am sadder than ever that we don’t hang out because like,I SO, like want his autograph…

That’s it… I am writing a part just for him in my next screenplay.

Bea “Ever So Star Struck” Petty


Used TP Anyone?

Not exactly climbing up the painting, but this is what he did yesterday when I put him in the bathroom to give him a time out from climbing up the painting. This was taken a while ago, but I guess old habits die hard.


What if...

Jackie Chan and Richard Simmons had a child? Now, what if Jackie Chan and Richard Simmons were cats? I mean, besides the obvious that they themselves could probably not have a child, no matter what species they were due to gender incompatibility... but if you add in the premise behind that movie where Arnold Schwarzenegger got pregnant... man what was Emma Thompson thinking??? Anyway, so assuming that a) Jackie Chan and Richard Simmons could magically transform into cats and that b) one of them (I see it being Richard Simmons) got pregnant and that c) I might possibly have too much time on my hands THEN...

I imagine that their offspring would be not unlike Hugh. I write this as he is hanging from a painting we have propped up against one of the walls. It's his new favorite thing to do, besides flying through the air out of no where and slicing a chunk out of my hand like a psychotic ninja. I would stop him because art deserves better than to be clawed by an insane kitten, but the painting came from our insane neighbour from down the hall AND it's pretty much the most hideous thing I have ever seen, hence why we have never put it up on the wall in the year or so we have had it. Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike all modern art, but there should at least be some sort of meaning behind your painting. When said artist admits that his paintings are meaningless squiggles, lines and spray paint... "What do the squiggles mean?" "Mean? They don't mean anything, they are just squiggles." "Um, do you have any dogs playing poker?"

And now he's curled up and sleeping... not 2 minutes after he tore through the loft like Richard Simmons on speed.

So adorable.



Dude, what happened to Mickey Rourke?

I mean, besides the ginormously unattractive character he played in Sin City... which I always assumed was due the pounds and pounds of make up and/or special effects, I always kind of had the opinion that the Mickster was VERY sexy.

True, he was more sleazy sexy than anything any other kind of sexy... I suppose that was due to the kinds of characters he played... But come one. 9 1/2 Weeks? Classic soft porn. When you are a horny teenage girl and your parents have the lameass Canadian version of HBO, so lame that I can't even remember what it was called... except that it was the first place where I saw Inspector Gadget and I frigging loved that cartoon.

So much so that I went as Inspector Gadget one year for Halloween in university. And although there were a couple of problems with the costume... namely that in my younger days I used to look a lot like Scully from the X-Files and it just so happened that it was also the heyday of the X-Files so everyone thought I was Scully and not Inspector Gadget... AND, also, here is some advice for all you kids out there... wearing go-go Gadget roller skates out to a night club and then proceeding to get hooped? Kind of not the best idea ever. I consider myself lucky to be alive. Live and learn as I always say...

Oh jeez... tangents. All I can think of now is trying to remember the name of that cable channel. Anyway, so moving on from Inspector Gadget. Go-Go Gadget Time Machine... Although not entirely sure, I imagine it must have been at least a few years later that my loins awakened and ta-da... 9 1/2 Weeks.

So, to make a long story short which is absolutely impossible for me I know... Dude, what the hell happened to Mickey Rourke?

Bea "Go-go Gadget Short Term Memory" Petty


Funnily Enough...

On the way home last night I did see an interesting solution to my little dilemma from yesterday (see previous posting). It was both "new" and "interactive" and would have involved many strangers. However, my interpretation of the instructions as laid out by my 100% completely accurate horoscope was that said interaction was meant to be somewhat inoffensive to said strangers, especially as it was specifically in reference to my love life...

So, when I got off the subway at Yonge/Bloor amid the throngs of other rush hour drones, I happened to catch out the the corner of my eye a spot on the floor which had text on it something along the lines of "stand here to download your ring tone." I glanced up and saw a nifty little advertisement with some sort of electronicalish type of gizmo that looked like it may or may not have had the power to magically transport a ring tone in to my cell phone, if I was only to stand on the spot on the floor.

It occurred to me in that moment that this could be my one opportunity to interact with my beloved strangers before I made it to my destination... my sparsely populated loft, which the last census put down at 3... assuming that a cat and a fish count as members of society of course. My place, my rules!

It's amazing how quickly one can have a detailed internal conversation. In the three seconds that it took for me to spot the spot, the ad on the wall, and then pass it... allow me to present to you my inner monologue:

"Man, why do people have to crowd the doors so that you can't get off the train and why does it have to be SO HOT in here... Hey, there's a spot on the floor... "Stand here to download ring tone"... how the heck??? Neat, there's something on the wall with an infared thingy, I guess that's where you download, what an innovative idea, whoever came up with that is a genius... wait, I could totally stand there and download while interacting with literally HUNDREDS of people by getting in their way was they rush home to their families... yeah, that's right, I could be THAT person... the person who stops right in the middle of the platform when hundreds of people are practically sprinting to make their connection so that just when you get in the groove you have to swerve to avoid them but in the meantime you've had to slow down just enough that you are sure to miss the train by the EXACT amount of time you lost while avoiding the inappropriately stopped person... Yeah, I SO don't want to be that person, regardless of what my horoscope said... it's just not worth it... Ew. The poster has a picture of some sort of skeleton or zombie... some sort of horror movie ring tone??? No thanks. Momma always said that zombies and skeletons... the undead in general were just plain old bad news and goodness knows my Momma has never steered me wrong before. So no thank you Mr. and Mrses. Marketing Wizards, I will pass on your offer to obtain a ring tone in the subway station UNTIL you replace your ad with something a little happier than a walking corpse because this girl does NOT need to be woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of my phone ringing like a flesheater coming to get me to eat my skin... Also, I suggest putting your little invention in a more appropriate place where people can actually use it without getting trampled on..."

Today's' Love Horoscope:

You don't need to settle on anything right away, so make sure that you've exhausted the field before making a choice.

Oh, believe me... I've already exhausted that field... and the next field... and the field after that... Time to let them lay fallow for a while, you know, to plant at a later date when the soil is more fertile.


Looking for Some Ideas...

Here is my my Love Horoscope for today:

Try something new when interacting with strangers for the rest of the day.

Not sure exactly how that will help my love life, but my question is thus: Anyone got any ideas as to what sort of "new things" I can "try" "when interacting with strangers for the rest of the day?" I've been racking my brain all morning and this is the best I can come up with:

Just interacting with strangers in Toronto period would be something new. I am trying to think of how I could interact with strangers without scaring the bejesus out of them. Then only way I can see that would be socially acceptable would be to beg for change on the street corner. I could make up on of those cardboard signs that say something like "Under-employed, underpaid communications professional needs money for Ipod." Something like that, but with spelling mistakes...

Yep, that's the best I can come up with. Clearly I need your suggestions. Suggestions that might have me making some money out of it would be preferable... but hurry, the day is half over and as I need to be home by 8pm for my Idol/America's Next Top Model/ House fix tonight, that really only leaves a few hours. Oh, and then I suppose I SHOULD actually put in a full days worth of work... meaning that really I have from about 5pm-6pm available. Oh, and I have to get groceries, so I really only have a half hour max... say from 5pm-5:30pm...

Any ideas?

Thanks, you guys rock!


Some Random Thoughts on Taxi Cabs

I live in Toronto right? Toronto is a big place. Some people have cars, others don't. For the latter group they have this thing called the TTC. In theory the TTC is a wonderful invention of mank ind (sorry, the spelling is deliberate... I totally had a Jack Handy moment). In theory.

In theory communism was also a wonderful idea, as was my decision to try my hand at online dating. In theory. But the reality of the TTC and communism oddly enough, is that there is just not enough money available to compensate for the amount of people who use it. It doesn't take a used car salesman to figure out that if buses on a particular route... say, the 168 Slumington for example... are overcrowded on a daily basis and that it is not uncommon for some people... say, me for example... to have to wait for several buses to go by before one comes that will stop, that more buses might be in order. Blah blah blah, we all know how I feel about the TTC...

Now, going out. Dates, shopping, stamp shows etc... Usual mode of transportation is of course the TTC. Due to the large size of the city, any other way is not very agreeable to my wallet. However, there are times when taking a cab must be done. Usually there is booze and some cheesy nightclub involved, but not always. On Friday, there was booze, but instead of a cheesy nightclub there was an English pub. And an Englishman, which is the best part of course. I was running late... yadda yadda yadda. Looked at the time and there was no way that the bus and subway were going to get me to where I needed to be on time so I needed a cab.

I called one. It came. Away we went and I started my usual cabbie banter which typically begins with a comment about the weather, or an inquiry as to the business that evening. Normally this is the start of a two way conversation that will carry us to my destination. Sadly, Friday was not one of those nights.

Now, I get that not every cabbie wants to chat. I have also been the passenger of very chatty cabbies when I have mostly just wanted to not talk, so I get that there is not always going to be compatibility between driver and drivee. Silence was the order of the day on this ride, and not just not talking silence, there was no music either. That meant complete and utter silence. It was one of those really uncomfortable silences-- like as if we had been dating for 3 years and one of us had decided to break up right then and there in the taxi. I wanted to hum, whistle... anything that would something. But nothing...…

Until my silent cabbie passed the turn off that is. Driving in Toronto can be complicated at times, but my destination had a sum total of one turn, and he missed it. And it wasn't like it was some obscure street. So I had say something which of course made the already awkward situation even more so because then I really did feel like I was a part of a dysfunctional couple. "You IDIOT", I screamed. "Can't you even drive? I gave you one simple task, all you had to do was turn right onto Bathurst... I couldn't possibly have given you an easier fare... and you STILL messed up... I am not paying for you incompetence..."

But out loud I said quietly "Um, I think you missed Bathurst." And yes, he charged me for his screw up. And I paid.



I'm Tryin' to Work Here!

So, I am working away this week... trying to be diligent as per usual... but try as I might, I just cannot be. Why?

Two words:


Clearly, one cannot be expected to have productive days in front of the computer when one is constantly reminded of doing the nasty with Russian whores and/or buying prescription drugs at low, low prices. I have a fairly new version of Outlook which pops-up a little notification whenever a new e-mail comes in. Just when I am getting in the groove, one of these little gems pops up to remind me that women do, in fact, like their men long and hard. The following is just a small sampling of just how colourful my inbox has become this week ever since our junk mail filter has gone on the fritz:

* Make your spermatozoids active with Spermamax... Wha?
* handsome famiily hardcore f**cking!... As long as the family is handsome. I don't wanna to see no uggos.
* No more hater to your penis once you’ve started taking Penis Enlarge Patch... Don't be hatin'.
* charming incest Pictures!... Is there any other kind?
* radiant incest Pictures!... I stand corrected.
* Dad suckinng Son's d**ck!... FINALLY, something appropriate to watch when I am bored at work!
* She will be yours with the first blow of the wind that will blow the smell of your Ultra Allure Pheromones to her face... What happens if it isn't a windy day?
* Youngest bonny Teens f*ccked by oldman... Who knew Gary Oldman was such a versatile actor?
* Russsian bonny Sluts here doing handsome bl*wjj*b... Oh, those Russians!
* fucking russiaan pulchritudinous B*tch!... Doing it pulchritudinously this time... sounds kinky.
* sightly Schoolgiirls doing splendiferous succking... I have ALWAYS thought that there is just not enough alliteration in the porn industry.
* fair russsian Cuties in poono!... I've been to poono. Nice place, but you cannot get a half decent grilled cheese sandwich to save your life!
* Any med for your girl to be happy!... One can only hope that when I find the man of my dreams, he will be so thoughtful as to do anything to make me happy. Might I suggest Valium?
* Group jolly teens hardcore!... Hardcore group sex = Happy adolescents. It's a fact!

Must focus on work... must focus on work...

* Do you want ravishing virginn Girls?

God Dammit!


My Further Descent into Lameness

Two Words...

My Super Sweet 16.

OK, that was more like 4 words/ was exactly like 4 words, but math was never my strong subject so whatever. Anyway, for those who have better things to do with their time than flip through TV channels when you are bored... men excluded of course, for we all know that flipping through channels is the modern day equivalent to standing on the horizon, spear in hand and sweeping the plains for the best animals to hunt... except standing on the horizon has now become sitting on the couch, the remote control the spear, the plains are now TVs and the animals are now TV shows... a few minor differences, but pretty much EXACTLY the same...

Basically what I am trying to say is that MTV has arrived in Canada.

And with it has come all those shows we have heard of but never really knew what they were all about... like Laguna Beach, 8th and Ocean, The Real World etc... It's possible that like me, you may only have heard of these shows indirectly through tabloid headlines featuring annoying people who are only famous for being famous dating another annoying people who are only famous for being famous. Not really my type of programs...

Until I discovered my Super Sweet 16 that is. Officially television has reached a new low. Unofficially, so have my TV watching habits... I truly cannot get enough of watching whiny, spoiled girls cry their eyes out when Daddy doesn't buy them that Mercedes they wanted... never mind that Daddy just forked over 200 grand for a Moulin Rouge inspired sweet sixteen party... It's brilliant... and pathetic... and much too addictive for my own good.

Bea "I AM the MTV generation" Petty


Dude, Who Killed Kenny?

So, I was watching Idol last night... as I am apt to do on a Tuesday night and was quite excited about Kenny Rogers being the guest. I won't lie. I like Kenny, I always have. And I am not afraid to admit it. I especially like Kenny when other people are making fun of him... like Will Sasso on Mad TV.

And then.............

Ok, so I will allow that as a rule I generally never know what the heck is going on. True, I am pretty good at staying up on my current events, and I THOUGHT my celebrity gossip... but COME ON. Have I really been so far out of the loop that I missed Kenny Rogerseseses' extreme makeover?

In disbelief I called the roomie, fully thinking that she too was going to support my view on the matter. Instead I got something like "yeah, so, it's Kenny Rogers, get over it"... "But, but, but... Kenny Rogers is a little chubby and all about the '80's and looks like someone's grandpappy"...

But someone's grandpappy or no, The Gambler is apparently no longer chubby or all about the '80's.

I repeat... where the heck have I been?



Thanks Astrology

Here is my daily love horoscope:

Things are going to get a little weird soon, but you can cope easily and even thrive.

Things are going to get a little weird SOON? Well thank god I have been warned because I truly did not think that my love life could get any weirder. I'm thinking that my next date will be with an alien... a Zeta Reticulan perhaps... no wait, maybe it will be a cool alien like a Vulcan or a Wookie...

And because today is like the slowest day of work EVER... The only thing I have to do for the rest of the day is send a 3 line e-mail to a colleague, which I am trying to stretch out for as long as possible just in case someone decides to visit my work space, so it looks like I am actually doing some work... Anyway, I decided to see what other sites had to say about the world's most wonderful sign- Aquarius. Sadly, it was all very ho-hum.

Until I came across that is. Here is their advice to Aquarian men this week:

Try not to be overly generous.

Interesting. This might explain why it has been an uber long time since a man was overly generous with me. I mean, if this is the advice that men are being given then it is no stretch of the imagination that they would also get advice like:

- If you go out on a date and like the girl, make sure you DON'T call until after the following Christmas.
- During sex, make sure that you get off before she is even close.
- Never pay for dinner. Girls hate that.
- If you meet a girl this week, try to only stare at her boobs. If possible, call her by the wrong name throughout the evening.
- Your strip club addiction is sure to impress.
- Just for fun, make up a story about your locker getting broken into and all your things stolen.
- Spelling mistakes are the key to a woman's heart.
- If you are 44 years old and want to meet a younger woman, just lie and say that you are 32. That always works. Always.
- You'll never do better than the amazing girl you just met, but make sure you spend the rest of your life trying anyway.
- If you like a girl either never ask to see her more than once a week or ask to see her every night. Nothing in moderation.

Luckily, I expect things to change pretty soon. After all things will be getting "a little weird" for me. I sure hope I will be able to cope with getting a call from a guy when he SAYS he is going to call, having my dinner paid for and the guy NOT staring at my boobs and actually having a guy please ME in bed for once.

Gosh, it's been so long since I have "thrived"... I'd like to again... and it had better be soon. This "coping" is growing wearisome and quite frankly, very boring. One can only come up with so many "coping" scenarios before one is just unable to enjoy "coping" any longer.

Like my mother always said, bless her: "Coping by oneself is all well and good, but there comes a time in one's life when we all need a good "thriving" from a person of the opposite sex"... or same sex, if that's your bag.

Bea "aren't pseudo-sciences wonderful?" Petty


Hell Hath No Fury...

Like the Devil himself.

I was going to share with y'all some of the newest images of my new baby, but that was before blogger had a different agenda and wouldn't let me upload them... further proof that my cat is the devil? Perhaps.

He has gotten huge and while he was always pretty much fearless, with a bigger size has come a bigger appetite for adventure, destruction, mischief and love. True, that love always happens at 2am, and then again at 4am and yet again at 6am and usually culminates in the little man getting thrown out of bed about a dozen times every night because for the life of me, I just cannot sleep when there is a cat sleeping on my head, nibbling at my nose, licking my eye, purring loudly in my ear and attacking my hair... Must remember to lay still and never, EVER roll over, make a sound, stretch etc... lest he thinks I am awake... The situation is worse than when I was 4 and I thought that a gang of skeletons lived under my bed and I had to take a running leap from the hall on to my bed so that they didn't grab my legs when I was climbing in. And then I would lay awake for hours, heart pounding away, laying stiff as a board and barely breathing... because if they knew I was there then they would surely come out and grab me and kill me and force me to become an evil skeleton in their evil skeleton army... Good times.

Oh, before I forget... does anyone have any ideas about what else, besides a squirt bottle, I can use to stop the little guy when he is being bad? It appears that squirting him 300 times at point blank range does little else but help him out with his bathing activities...

"Oh good, she already washed me... that leaves more time to break things!"

Bea "loving all creatures, great and small... most of the time" Petty

Don't Be Jealous

And because I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me... thinking that I only get e-mails like the one on the previous posting every once and a while... I present to you this little gem, hot off the presses:

So you have your Florida win....hope that helped in winning the pool....will talk to ya later in the week.....stayed in Happy Fairyland most of the week , came back for birthday party....just watched the when can....416-iam-smrt.....Neville Train Conductor

Yeah, I might page... when can...




Fistly I need to apologize for Saturday.....I worked till 4 and when i
returned to my locker downstairs Much to my dismay My locker amongst others
had been broken into......Well ya see In my locker was my backpack the
contents included my cell my wallet, my ipod etc....So I was stuck...I had
no way of contacting you....I put your number in my cell phone and didnt
write it down....So I couldn't call....I was gonna just show up at your
place however I didnt want to seem creepy. I had to go tot he police
depatment to file a report as well as with the hospital security. so My day
wasn't a good one. Im glad to see however that your day turned out pretty
darn good!! Well If you still wish to chat with me which i hope you
do.....Get back to me

This was the guy I was supposed to have gone out with on Friday. Kind of a long story right now (we did meet on Friday but...) and I just hate doing shite on the computer on the weekend so I will fill y'all in tomorrow. I just found this to be too funny for words... Copied and pasted verbatim.

My favorite is the mispelling of "firstly" with "fistly".

"sigh... anyone normal out there? Anyone at all?" Petty

PS. The Gators won... That gives me $160 to put towards something uber fun... like shoes... or bills. Yay.