Thursday, August 31, 2006
And a post of me using a jackhammer should be full of joyful, bouncing phallic imagery. Nothing satisfies the inner Napoleon like a ginormous extendo-cock.
Friday, August 25, 2006
I want the knitters to represent yo! The nerdy comedians think I've made you guys up. Email me (firstname.lastname@example.org) and we'll make a date!
1. Nothing to Lose - Isabella Antenna
2. Your Idea of a Holiday - Bedroom Walls
3. European Oils - Destroyer
4. Not Just Words - Black Heart Procession
5. Love - Seekonk
6. Supersexy '67 - Coltrane Motion
7. Robbed - Hayden
8. Retour a Vega - The Stills
9. Turn this Factory Down - Dune
10. In Anticipation Of Your Suicide - Bedroom Walls (Erin - this song is coming your way...SO EMO)
Thursday, August 24, 2006
She brings it up everytime she sees me. Her status reports include details about why her baby is perfect and her marriage is flawless because she had a baby. What is my problem? Am I not happy in my marriage? Maybe I don't like sex enough? or too much? A baby helped her relationship...I should really have one.
It's been stressing me out and I've told her that it's none of her business what we've decided to do. If I gave a flying fuck about this woman I'd be slapping her upside the head with a marriage counsellor's phone number but instead I finally say (warning explicit innuendo is involved) :
I just don't know WHAT we're doing wrong Miss Nosy McNeedsToKnowTheResultsOfMySexLife
- my husband's been coming in me for months now and my bum is getting sore. I
can't imagine what we're doing wrong!! I'm even waiting til I'm ovulating to
She thought I had FINALLY asked her for her opinion and her face had an orgasmic look of know it all joy. She started talking about taking my temperature pre-sex when she realized what the hell I had just said.
It was a terrible mean thing to do to someone who just probably wanted to help "ease my mind" or maybe even ask for help. But at least I don't have to discuss my sex life with her anymore.
I would like to thank a few of my more humourous girlfriends for letting me test drive some of my responses on them.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
I put on best WASP persona and headed out the "yacht" club. So excited to be rubbing elbows with the Old Salts of the Toronto Harbour were we.
Carolyn was going to take us sailing but it started to rain and I am a sugar cube so instead we had to make our own fun on the shore with the leftovers from dinner.
I pretend to be a hunter/gatherer while Danielle posed for her annual Christmas Card picture. My sock was sad not to get into the action but I didn't think of it so caught up was I in the heat of the inappropriate moments.
When all was said and done we ate like medieval kings and queens on the shores of Lake Ontario. I think Carolyn got it right when she joined the sailing club - what a great place to spend the summer in Toronto.
Monday, August 21, 2006
No biggie. I was knitting a pair of simple socks for a girlfriend that are long past due while I stood - I've blocked out the world by plugging myself into the iPod. Life is good.
I feel a knocking on my upper thigh and from the corner of my eye I see a cane retreating into the tight and righteous grasp of a man older than death. I unplug and ask if everything is ok. Old Man River proceeds to tell me that KNITTING ON THE TTC IS ILLEGAL. I cannot be knitting on the TTC. IT IS ILLEGAL.
The fact that I've been knitting on the TTC for years now doesn't phase him. The pussy pony purls that I'm using to knit the sock only inspire a demonstration of how my 2mm plastic needle could pierce his skin, go through his rib cage, and STOP HIS HEART DEAD.
At this point, I'm trying desperately to restrain my giggle and my sarcastic responses about how I can barely stick the needles through the wool never mind his angry chest - I tell him that if it will make him more comfortable I will put my sock away (we're also at my stop).
This is when the gaggle of Indian Grandmothers who have been giggling throughout the exchange, weigh in with their opinion that he could do more damage with his cane than I could with my sock.
He looked both shocked and appalled that so many women seemed to think that they were right. It was excellent.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Me: Oh yeah Quasimodo? What's that?
Jason: I'm a tall person living in a short persons world.
Me: I always knew you were a freak.
Jason: I should be in the circus; HEY LOOK AT THE FREAK EVERYONE - THROW A PICKLE AT HIM!!!!
Me: Yeah cause everyone knows that tall freaks like to eat pickles...unlike midgets and elephant men who dig the rotting fruit.
I think we might be watching Freaks for our Thursday night movie date.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Hello out there in blog-world. It's Jennifer's Manboy here to pass on a message to all her readers, friends and mortal enemies. Jen has been taken captive at work by the entity known only as Bell. Bell has temporarily placed her in a holding pattern of internet use.
So if you've recently emailed Jen in the past few days, and she hasn't responded yet, it's not because she's ignoring you, it's just that she hasn't received it yet. And until she's done battling with the evil Bell and retrieved all her emails she won't be able to get back to you.
So have patience dear friend and soon the lovely Jen will be back!
Monday, August 14, 2006
- I find your voice "magnetic" and unavoidable in the office when you're on the phone.
- I went to see the horse races and Ontario Place this weekend. I missed the races when I got there the beavers were riding the horses. (ed. he said people but I heard beavers - I SWEAR IT.)
- I love the Discovery shows. You know, you don't need to see the beginning to know how it will end.
Angie: Oh yeah, those shows LOVE the Serengeti.
Me: I'd be dead within an hour if I was in the Serengeti
Temp: No you wouldn't, if you get attacked you just climb on an elephant - nothing can kill an elephant.
- Do you know anyone who is doing quantum financial planning?
It was really an excellent way to start the week and now I am nappy from the power of the pigeon.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Dear Charlotte and Elizabeth,
I know that through the years we've had our difficulties. Mostly with the fact that when you borrow my new leather shoes on a rainy day you'd stretch them out and render them unusable for me and thus creating a great new addition to your collection.
I can see that the constant borrowing and non-returning of your cute dresses may be nominally annoying but I ALWAYS ask first with the best of intentions and conveniently forget to return the item to your possession - but we've developed a culture of large wardrobiness and I for one will not end the cycle. Especially since Liz, you've developed such great taste in clothes and Charlotte, your steel toe boots fit like a dream.
It was this culture of large wardrobiness that led me to believe that one of you, in a fit of hand knit sock lust (perfectly understandable), had "borrowed" my FAVOURITE hand knit Whitby, Fleece Artist socks and simply "forgotten" to bring them with you when you came to visit.
After checking for them under my bed, in the closets, under the computer, in J's drawers (I can't blame him either), the bathroom, the decks and at the cottage with no luck the only possible answer was that you lost control of yourselves and TOOK MY SOCKS WITHOUT ASKING. This shocking display of disregard for the unspoken rules of wardrobiness stunned me into a moment of silence.
Then when neither of you fessed up after my mildly (re: shockingly) accusing email - my righteous indignation reared up and developed detailed plans of wardroby vengeance. Oh the havoc I would wreak upon your closets was spec-tacular.
It was while planning my revenge one morning I picked up my blades to go to work - the first time in 6 weeks or so. I saw a little peek of blue looking at me from deep within the boot. Yes, that's right.
So, well, I'm sorry I blamed you guys....and Liz? I'm still not giving that dress back - my breasts look too spectacular in it.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Truly a spectacular weekend. Nothing like true north strong and free thunderstorm to clear the air so that all of the wine can re-foggify it.
I'd like to present Scribbly! And Debbie! The great Denny taught me how to "swing" knit one night and introduced me to scribbling - the yarn, Peter Rabbit and Giotto Sex um I mean ribbon. The shawl was an easy knit and was finished somewhere along the Cabot Trail in June...
It was actually COOL at night in the Ottawa Valley over the weekend so I got a picture of Scribbly in his natural habitat. On J's Mom. Sounds dirtier than it was.
Delightful weekend of knitting and drinking with friends and family. It should happen more often.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Anyway I guess all this is starting to effect my psyche because I had a dream the other night:
The Manboy and I were in a fake wood panelled station wagon driving on a street in Toronto. We were in our mid-forties and it was not looking good.
I was way too skinny with huge bags under my eyes, my thin hair was streaked with gray. You could tell that I was using a lot of anti-depressants or other medications for mental illness. I just wasn't the buxom, chaotic, explosive Jen we all know and love.
The Manboy was fully bald, his delightfully full and rosy chipmunk cheeks were drawn and jowly, he was hunching like an abused dog in the passenger side of the front seat. His blue giggly eyes dark and twitchy.
The camera shifts to my perspective as I glance into the rear view mirror and see our 10 year old daughter in the centre backseat of the car....chewing on an arm which had somehow been separated from it's body.
Yeah that's right, SHE'S! A! CANNIBAL! ZOMBIE!
The Manboy turns to me and says: If you don't look in the mirror then we'll never have to deal with this. Look away.
I blame the Cool Ranch Doritos.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
It's so hot that when I step out of my over air-conditioned office (Rogers owns it) it feels like I've stepped into someone's mouth. When you consider the air quality in Toronto right now, it feels like this person has poor oral hygiene.
I can't stop thinking of analogies for how hot it is here...HELP ME!
Six women, one man and the Powerhouse toddler entered Frontenac Park on Saturday morning - four of us paddled/portaged the gear in and three aerobic mistresses hiked Powerhouse in to the camp site on Clear Lake.
It was hot on the lake but it was a "dry heat".
Dan and Danielle were the perfectly matched paddlers. Everytime I looked over at them I felt refreshed, I think Danielle may have been wearing the fashion equivalent of a gin and tonic.
The result of the tetrapacks was this display of celebrity mimicry. Carolyn sparked much debate - is the celebrity Jem or Eddie Van Halen? Ah, yes she's a rare breed of celebrity cameleon.
This was before we had the drum circle and after we synchronized our menstrual cycles with the moon.
Little Powerhouse and Sherry enjoyed a paddle around the bay on Sunday. It's so peaceful out there that Powerhouse passed out immediately. I loved coming back to paddling after years of cityfication it was a relief to realize that I could still canoe and portage with some degree of competence.
We were only out for one night and it was worth every second of coordination. The concept that this sort of event is too much work for just one night must be changed.
Dan had the dubious pleasure of being the only representative of man, was the perfect anthropologist. Unassuming and never projecting his own cultural values onto his subjects. You should watch for his titillating thesis on the discussion of local native camping traditions such as: gourmet food and coffee packing techniques and *detailed* discussions of sex/birth control a methodology of both.
We love Dan.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
There is a refreshing and inspirational post about fun canoe trips in the hopper if Blogger would stop being a stubborn bitch about uploading pictures. But until then you can my horrid analogies about perverts.