WOW!
I never really realized how little stress I had before I started this new job. I Now, I have at least 2 semi-freakouts per day!
I love my job and Im thankful for having it, but I think its time to really pay attention to what its doing to me. I need to find ways to release some of this pent up energy and frustration.......mmmmm Ben And Jerry sounds like a good way....

Throngs of people clogged Yonge St. and the downtown streets surrounding the Church St. "gaybourhood" yesterday for the highlight of the 26th annual Pride Week celebrations, in support of the city's diverse queer community.

But most of all, it was one big party!

AHEM....... It has come to my attention, that I have been slacking on blogging about the hottest most greatest people I know and love.....
so, I bring you.....DAWN!
She has got to be one of the most down to earth, nicest humans that I know! (aside from myself!)
Hey Dawn: How was your date?....er.....I mean........Golf lesson?

Ain't she purrrrrdy?!?!

HAPPY PRIDE EVERYONE!!!

ITS ANNALIESE!
SHE AIMS TO PLEASE!
SHE SAYS "ACHOO!" AFTER A SNEEZE,
SHE LOOKS SO GREAT, ON ANY DATE!
SHE MAKES THE BOYS ALL WANT TO MATE!
BUT SHE WONT GO!
SHE AINT NO HOE!
PLUS......THATS WHAT HER HUSBANDS FOE!
THIS LITTLE DITTY IS DEDICATED TO MY FRIEND ANNALIESE! CHAO DAAAHHHLING!

Why is it, that women seem to flock, like giddy school girls, towards single dads?

Is it some kind of mind trick? Do men "borrow" babies, so that they can pick up women? Or do we just think its irresistibly cute, to see a man being maternal and caring towards something that is typically said to be a woman's job?

I don't know about you, but, I reluctantly admit.......It is the sweetest, most adorable thing to see a guy strolling in the park, or swimming around at water tots with his cute little baby!

Im not sure why, but I can't resist pinching the cheeks, or coo-ing over these cute little lumps of flesh, ESPECIALLY, if daddy is around!

I've never wanted children of my own, EVER, so I find it very odd that someone like me, with the opinions I have about breeding, would be so awwed by the sight of a daddy and his child.

I don't know how to explain it but.....AWWWW, how freakin CUTE is that!?!?!?

I have concluded that babys.....are indeed.......CHICK MAGNETS!

QUESTION: What do you get when you mix Malabu rum....red wine....loud music......and people you hated in highschool?


ANSWER:
MY ANGRY ROOMATE CAUSING DRAMA AT THE CLUB!!!!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

SO, THERE I AM, DRINKING, DANCING, AND GENERALY HAVING A GRAND OLD TIME...WHEN SUDDENLY I REALIZE THAT MY TEMPER PRONE ROOMATE, IS WANDERING AROUND, PISSED DRUNK, MOUTHING OFF TO EVERYONE SHE KNEW IN HIGHSCHOOL! I GUESS, IN HER DRUNKIN STATE, SHE DIDDNT REALIZE WHAT SHE WAS DOING.......UNDERSTANDABLE...........BUT WHEN YOU THROW A BOTTLE IN SOMEONES FACE AND EXPECT TO GET OFF SCOTT FREE..........NOT SO UNDERSTANDABLE.
OBVIOUSLY, I WAS THOROUGHLY EMBARASSED.
MEANWHILE....HER SKANKY FRIEND WAS WAKLING AROUND THE CLUB WITH NO SHOES ON!
MABEY SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS BRITNEY SPEARS?

So there I am.......minding my own business, enjoying a delightful lollipop while working away on the computer....
when suddenly I realize that Im being watched!!
At first, I was quite offended, and scowled across the room at the guilty party. Then....I thought for a second......why be offended and un empowered, when I can use this power for my benifit?!?
You know what Im talking about ladies! That unexplainable power that us FINE women posess. The power to stop a man dead in his tracks, just from a look. The power to erase the logical thought prossess, and make men do things they would NEVER do !
OHHHH THE POWER!!!! Bwhahahah!
Okay thats enough evil testosterone fueld laughing for now....
But still, it never seases to amaze me, how much you can minipulate a man, just with your stunning good looks. Any woman can do it!
Just give it a try, all you have to do is make a request, any request, but say it with a "get over here and do me!" look in your eyes.......
and you'll see! He will do whatever you say!

POWER TO THE WOMEN!!

Yay! Jules has bought a new Mini!

MOTHERLY ADVICE......................


My mother was a fanatic about public restrooms. When I was a little girl,
she'd take me into the stall, show me how to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the
seat.
Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat. Then
she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the
toilet

in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make
contact with the toilet seat.

That was a long time ago. Now, in my "mature" years, "The Stance" is
excruciatingly difficult to maintain.

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of
women,
so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check
for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door
opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter.

The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no
doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if
there were one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly drape it
around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the
FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the
seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you
discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your
mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you
would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the
one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the
puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The
door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest,
and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious,
tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing
altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of
course.

You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has
made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered
seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if
you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because,
you're certain, her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat
because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a firehose that somehow
sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper
dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At that point, you give up.

You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're
exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and
then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to
operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands
with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely them.

A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper
trailing from your shoe. ( Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank
the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and tell her warmly,
"Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and
left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is
your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom
(rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what
really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked
question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other
gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the
door.

Alright.......so, I thought you might get a kick out of this one folks!

There I am, on vacation in sunny Santo Domingo...looking like hotness and enjoying the other hotties that are sprawled all over this resort......

When suddenly...out of nowhere, I spot the biggest, hairyest, most frightening Silver Back Gorilla, that I've ever seen!

terrified and shocked, I tell my pal to grab the digital and get a shot of this massive beast so I can have proof of my sighting. The closer the grotesque beast got, the more frightened I got ! (mostly because of his hugeness) Finally, he gets within range of the camera, and I muster up the courage to stand just parallel to his path and smile for the camera..........CHEESE! It was a rush I tell ya!

So the next morning... er....I mean afternoon, when I arise out of my bed into my hung over state....I realize as I'm sitting on my hotel balcony that the Silver Back Gorilla I had thought I'd saw the night before.........was not a Gorilla at all!!! Infact, IT WAS A BIG, FAT, GREY HAIRED, THONG SPORTING OLD MAN!!!

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!

I was thoroughly disgusted, and felt a bit ill at the thought! But more so....I was very confused as to why that man was dressed up in a gorilla suit!! I just don't understand it. OH...and not to mention.....since when do Silver Back Gorillas wear shiny man thongs???? Gezzzzz man! He obviously never reads National geographic..........................