May 29, 2012

Sweaty Tits and Heavy Boxes


Fact: If you make an awkward joke to your gynecologist when she’s doing her ‘business’, things will get uncomfortable.

Fact: It’s totally worth it.

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So, it’s hot as balls in Toronto right now.  Walking around with sweaty tits and impending pit stains makes a girl feel pretty sexy, if I say so myself.  Nothing removes panties faster than tit sweat. 

Don’t quote me on that.

(Actually, I changed my mind, please do.)

There are many reasons to curse this heat, but overall it’s pretty awesome. The season of park drinking is upon us and that pretty much means that life is worth living again!  Nothing says vacation like a bottle of wine (vodka?) on a park bench surrounded by a bunch of crazy, strung out junkies. (I’m looking at you, Allan Gardens.)  Seriously though, fuck all y’all and your tropical vacation pictures on Facebook. I’m tired of looking at your stupid face on the stupid white sand beach in your stupid bikini. Befriend a junkie and lie in the sun in your underwear like the rest of us.

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Since I’ve been bitching and moaning about moving for far too long, I figured it was worth throwing in a little bit of an update/you don’t have a motherfucking choice and you’re going to hear about my move whether you like it or not.

:)

Update 1: Uhaul vans smell like corn.
Update 2: We kicked moving’s ass, and made it our bitch.

All of our shit is now sitting in our (soon to be) apartment with a stranger while I crash at my wonderful friend’s house until Friday.  I am 89% sure that the stranger will not steal/break/pee on my stuff. I probably should have put in a special request for ‘no urine’ when dropping off our shit, but what can I say? I like to live on the edge a little.

So now I’m covered in tiny bruises and a grimy feeling that doesn’t seem to want to go away. If I left the house 2 hours earlier this morning, I probably could have been mistaken as one of the hookers that hang outside of (endearingly nicknamed) Hooker Harvey’s.  (Yes, I did just compare myself to a prostitute.)

Moving out of the apartment was a little bitter sweet. I said my silent goodbyes to Keith and Roberta and thanked them for imposing their presence upon me over the past 2 years.  Without them, I never would have known what a raccoon fetus looks like, or what it sounds like to have something living in your wall, scratching inches away from your head at 5am. 

Sorry, I don’t mean to brag.

In honour of Keith, and leaving him behind, I’ve dug up an old text conversation my good friend Ivan and I had after one of my Keith encounters.

If you don’t want to lower your IQ, you should consider skipping this all together.



Raccoon Conversations
Interpreted and reenacted by Britt & Ivan

Britt: Do u think, when raccoons communicate, they ever talk about -or even have the ability to talk about- things that have occurred in the past? 
Ivan: Like, 'Hey man! Remember that pizza crust from last Thursday? IT TASTED LIKE TITTIES.'

Britt: Yes.

Ivan
: ... then no. 
Britt: Example… Keith would be all "Yesterday this crazy fucking woman yelled at me that it was time to get up and told me to get my act together."

Ivan
: "I GOT SKOOLED, YO."

Britt
: "Oh no way, bro. I got poked by a child carrying a stick. Pretty annoying."
Britt
: "Daaaamn dude. That shit’s one of my pet peeves"

Ivan
: "You should have seen this pigeon, homie. She was aaaaall up in ma grillz"

Britt
: "I hope you fucked that pigeon up. They play their games. Get all risky and fly all close for no reason."

Ivan
: "I found me a boob slingshot. Epic, bro"

Britt
: "Do you mean a bra? Like, for boobs?"

Ivan
: "Dude. Don't ruin this for me."

Britt
: "Let's go sling our shit at other animals. I got beef with a squirrel."
Britt: "Also: totally ate blue cheese today by accident. You know that shit makes me allll bloated, gurl."

Ivan
: "IMMA CUT THAT BITCH SQUIRREL. She stole my nuts"
Ivan: (Wink)

Britt
: Aw hellz nah!


Fin.

12 comments:

  1. UHaul vans smell like corn? Hmm. This worries me.

    Park drinking is the greatest. I miss my Toronto friends.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I was also very concerned by the smell. My roommate said it smelled like hay. I begged to differ.

      Delete
  2. You paint the prettiest visual...
    I'm also certain I will never look at a raccoon the same way again.

    Hooray for moving!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, I've always prided myself on my ability to make things sound pretty.

      HOORAY for being done lifting shit down a very narrow staircase! Elevators for life!

      Delete
  3. I have to say, sitting in my underwhere pounding 'em back with a junkie *does* seem like it'd be a good time. Maybe I should add that to my summer to-do list.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I recommend it! Add some colour to your summer fun!

      Delete
  4. another place down, a new abode awaitin' to be the stage for many future (mis)adventures. sorry i missed the move and possibly getting free pizza and or beer (least i wasn't there to steal jess's turquoise again muahaha :P...) seems like just yesterday you were saying au revoire to st timmy!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. A new abode, indeed! I hope it's prepared to have such a disasterous tenant.

      There was no pizza or beer, there was brunch & caesars. What can I say, I make moving classy ;)

      Delete
  5. This was such a moving post. My heart loved profanity. It sounds like poetry to it. I am not kidding, I am a huge fan of a good 'fuck'. And you're right, Uhauls do smell like corn. This sounds like a mystery for the Scooby Doo gang.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Everything about this comment makes me happy.

      Delete
  6. Nothing removes panties faster than tit sweat. Huh. Who knew? How do I get men to drop their drawers? Certainly you have an equally great quote for that.

    Congrats on kicking moving's ass.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nothing removes drawers faster than ball sweat?

      Quite frankly, I know very little about removing men's drawers, but in my brain, there's probably always ball sweat involved.

      Delete