Actually, I should probably watch my surfing in case I get fired. Oh haaaai Employee of the Month.

Anyway, I’m constantly on Pajiba because they post a whole bunch of shit that’s either current (movie/TV news), thought-provoking (promising actors that have since lost their relevancy) or include more sarcasm and witty commentary than an early episode of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer.

But sometimes, there’s paranoia-inducing, mind-blowing shit like the crap you see here.

The worst offender is Dustin, who’s always writing about shit I definitely should not be subjecting my inner child to on a daily basis. I should have learned my lesson back in November when I clicked on a link for a commercial that he had dubbed awkward enough to cause arousal, yet also fear. I was so consumed with similar conflicting emotions that I decided to write a post on this anomaly and share it with the world. Um, you’re welcome?

Last night, he posted this, which I made the mistake of clicking on right before bed:

http://www.pajiba.com/seriously_random_lists/its-midnight-on-the-east-coast-here-are-10-serene-cinematic-images-to-help-you-sleep-peacefully-tonight-.php

Do not be misled by the angelic title. This will fuck you up.

You’d think that would be enough to convince me to stay away, but I am an idiot. Dustin’s newest article was seemingly a progress report on the post-Harry Potter career of actor Daniel Radcliffe, so I figured there was nothing that could possibly cause me to lose any sleep or to send me to any kind of soundproof, padded room. Well, guess again. Instead it contained a trailer for his new movie:

A few weeks ago I made a promise to a few of my friends that I would finally check out the Harry Potter franchise, seeing as how I had never read any of the books or seen any of the films.

Yeah, no. That’s not happening.

Dolls are terrifying. Look at their faces. They’re waiting for me to die so they can steal my soul and that’s how people go to Hell. Unless of course the clapping monkeys kill you first. That’s how they roll, yo. None of this “inanimate object” BS. Don’t be fooled.

I can’t be the only one who is probably going to be really fucked up by this trailer. Who writes shit like this? Who walks around thinking this is OK? What the- no. Just no.

I hate you so much.

 Actually, I should probably watch my surfing in case I get fired. Oh haaaai Employee of the Month.

Anyway, I’m constantly on Pajiba because they post a whole bunch of shit that’s either current (movie/TV news), thought-provoking (promising actors that have since lost their relevancy) or include more sarcasm and witty commentary than an early episode of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer.

But sometimes, there’s paranoia-inducing, mind-blowing shit like the crap you see here.

The worst offender is Dustin, who’s always writing about shit I definitely should not be subjecting my inner child to on a daily basis. I should have learned my lesson back in November when I clicked on a link for a commercial that he had dubbed awkward enough to cause arousal, yet also fear. I was so consumed with similar conflicting emotions that I decided to write a post on this anomaly and share it with the world. Um, you’re welcome?

Last night, he posted this, which I made the mistake of clicking on right before bed:

http://www.pajiba.com/seriously_random_lists/its-midnight-on-the-east-coast-here-are-10-serene-cinematic-images-to-help-you-sleep-peacefully-tonight-.php

Do not be misled by the angelic title. This will fuck you up.

You’d think that would be enough to convince me to stay away, but I am an idiot. Dustin’s newest article was seemingly a progress report on the post-Harry Potter career of actor Daniel Radcliffe, so I figured there was nothing that could possibly cause me to lose any sleep or to send me to any kind of soundproof, padded room. Well, guess again. Instead it contained a trailer for his new movie:

A few weeks ago I made a promise to a few of my friends that I would finally check out the Harry Potter franchise, seeing as how I had never read any of the books or seen any of the films.

Yeah, no. That’s not happening.

Dolls are terrifying. Look at their faces. They’re waiting for me to die so they can steal my soul and that’s how people go to Hell. Unless of course the clapping monkeys kill you first. That’s how they roll, yo. None of this “inanimate object” BS. Don’t be fooled.

I can’t be the only one who is probably going to be really fucked up by this trailer. Who writes shit like this? Who walks around thinking this is OK? What the- no. Just no.

I hate you so much.

It’s  SHARK WEEK 2011!

I am super excited- one might perhaps even say I am… shark-cited?

For those of you who don’t know about my unnatural obsession curious fascination with sharks (i.e. missed the post I wrote last year commanding you all to watch the Discovery Channel), let me defend myself by reminding you that Dude! It’s SHARKS. They probably know they’re awesome and jump around all, “yeah, I’m a shark. What’s up motherfucker? Time to get eaten.”

AHAHAHAHA!

Also in 2006 there was an episode that aired called 10 Deadliest Sharks where the mako shark was “teased and baited with chum.”

That sounds sexy.

My birthday is in 6 months. Just putting that out there.

Anyway, I prepare for Shark Week! every year. I announce its arrival to everyone who I’m 95% sure won’t have me committed, sometimes even weeks in advance, whether it be through phone calls, emails, or bouncing around excitedly like a retarded chihuahua on speed. I mark the impending date on all three of my calendars. I hit up the local supermarket for shark-related snacks. I even have a drinking game prepared, courtesy of tv.com, which is extra-frightening considering I’ll be watching most of the shows by myself (thanks a lot, assholes). I also invented a new activity, where the word “shark” is incorporated into everyone’s every day lexicon, a la the Smurfs, only less eye-gougingly irritating. For example:

“What the shark?”

“Shark, yeah!”

“That’s shark-tastic!”

“Please pass the shark.”

This year Shark Week! is hosted by SNL’s Andy Samberg (of “Dick In A Box” and “I Just Had Sex” fame). He’s usually pretty funny so I definitely approve of this pairing. The new line-up for 2011 promises to be just as shark-sational as last year, and I’ve provided a schedule for you guys so you know when exactly to call out sick to work.

Some of the highlights include:

ROGUE SHARKS- premiering Monday, August 1st, 9pm

Basically this is Jaws, but on TV and with multiple attacks by multiple sharks. I can’t wait to see a bunch of douchebags in swimming trunks get eaten. This is gonna be sweet.

KILLER SHARKS- premiering Tuesday, August 2nd, 9pm

Keeping with the theme of “sharks rule,” this documentary focuses on unsuspecting travelers in the 50′s that are all, “lala, we’ll go on vacation and ignore the fact that there are SHARKS IN THE WATER.” Dumbasses.

SHARK CITY- premiering Thursday, August 4th, 9pm

With what is decidedly the coolest name for a show ever, this portion of Shark Week! focuses on a handful of our subjects as individuals as they hunt, eat and size each other up. Look for the special interview where the head shark is like, “yeah, I’ve been a shark for about four years now. My hobbies include swimming around, chilling with my wife and baby sharks and chewing on peoples’ legs. My favorite band is Radiohead.”

Personally, I would also like to see a guest appearance by Sharktopus, but one can only dream.

Old episodes of Shark Week! are going on right now so the fact that your TV isn’t on is inherently disturbing. I myself am parked in front of the Discovery Channel with my Shark Bites, pausing only to alert you all by writing this post.

Breakfast of Champions

If you do decide to partake in the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, let me know how it goes, and what your favorite experience (or six) was.

See you all in a week.

So I have determined that those few pansy-asses jumped ship due to my denouncing of the Canadian persuasion. Really, guys? Considering you’re solely responsible for unleashing the Satanic horde that is Bieber Fever onto this Earth, I’d say I went pretty light on your asses. That’s reason enough alone to to detach your entire country from this continent. I mean, before, Canada was one of those places everyone wondered about but never went to, like Narnia, with big closets and a secret language and a talking fucking magical lion. Now you’re famous for Bieber, so, uh, congratulations.

Look at the devil eyes. I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!

At any rate, the fact that I lost three followers is mildly unsettling- as much as I like to talk shit about the border, I will admit that it has its redeeming qualities as well. So here is my attempt to call off the maple leaf-wielding masses with my official list of Canadian Things That Don’t Suck, Kind Of.

1) MY BEST BLOGGITY FRIENDS

Believe it or not (probably not), three of the most awesome people I’ve ever met are all located in Ontario. Two of my favorite bloggers, Tabs and Allison, both call the province home, and, in an honorable mention, Amber Lee of AmberPeace, has 51 COUSINS in the city of Windsor.

Not only do I have some amazing girlfriends I can crash with (uh, did I not mention my special invites? OH HAAAAI), but my oldest friend, who’s put up with me since we were both in high school, coincidentally also lives in Windsor. This guy has been with me all through my adult life, and now that he’s pushing thirty (AHAHAHAHA) I’m planning a Toronto vacation next year for the big birthday. We’re like brother and sister- you guys can blame him for my football obsession, and I definitely wouldn’t have passed high school chem if it weren’t for his “tutoring” (or the fact that I emailed him all my assignments- I am still anonymous, right?). He’s in med school now, which I can’t even believe when I think that I met him when I wasn’t even legal driving age. He knows who he is, so I’ll just say thanks.

B) HOCKEY

I went to my first NHL game when I was probably around eight years old, and I’ve been hooked ever since. Hockey players are hands down the toughest athletes in pro sports- you try getting back up when your throat’s been slashed by a skate blade and moving around the rink with masses of pounds of padding strapped onto your body. For those of you that haven’t put it together yet, I’m an obsessive Rangers fan, which means that while I don’t have any active extreme rivalry with any of the Canadian teams, Montreal is fucking awesome and they share our conference, so they’re fun to root against.

When I first went to hockey games with my brothers, who are hardcore hockey fans, the players were rougher and the fights were way more frequent and totally Jerry Springer-esque. I remember seeing two players smash each other up against the glass right in front of me at a Kings game (I saw Wayne Gretzky play live, FYI). Now the violence is toned down somewhat but the action is just as intense. I seriously recommend going to at least one NHL game in your lifetime- even if your home team blows (what up, Isles?).

PYGMY MARMOSET) WILLIAM SHATNER

The Shat is one of the coolest celebrities EVER. Even if you don’t think that Star Trek could actually happen (and um, I so don’t), you have to admit that his Priceline ads are hilarious. William Shatner is not only awesome because he’s synonymous with Captain Kirk, but he also isn’t afraid to make fun of himself- he voiced a version of himself on Family Guy and was in the forgettable misfire $#*! My Dad Says. I actually saw about ten minutes of one episode, and WOW.

He’s also a Jew, so all is forgiven. Shatner rules.

DD) RYAN REYNOLDS

Ryan Reynolds is shirtless in every single movie, probably because most of his movies suck. That’s OK, though: just look at him.

You could bounce coins off of that shit. There’s a reason the Canadian police have the word “mount” in their title.

AND FINALLY:

RYAN GOSLING.

I still refuse to see The Notebook, because it looks sappy and retarded, but Good Lord. I’m a Toys R Us kid.

And if that’s not enough for you (although why wouldn’t it be):

Steve Carrell better move his goddamn head.

Now I’m not saying that if I am ever alone with him in a room there definitely will be assault charges. I’m just saying that there definitely will be assault charges.

So I guess Canada can be pretty cool. I also hear Toronto is really nice, and hopefully I’ll be there in February for my friend’s thirtieth blowout. Just a heads up, Ryan Gosling, so you can escape while you have the chance.

Such is my life.

Since guys never notice that I’m alive and I rarely get hit on, I figured this probably wasn’t going to be an issue.

Hurricane and I chose our first destination mainly due to the fact that the wind chill had dipped to a frigid 98 degrees and we were basically looking for somewhere- anywhere- where the doors closed all the way. As soon as we stepped inside, we got accosted by some a-hole in a business shirt. That’s almost as bad as Ed Hardy as far as bar outfits go, BTW. After I had entertained this jerkoff for no more than five minutes he “suggested” that I accompany him back to his apartment.

He actually said to me, “I’ll be honest, I want to hook up with you.” I told him that it was pretty obvious, as from ten feet away he probably wasn’t attracted to my scintillating personality. He then advised that we skip the usual conversation and date part. What an incredible asshole.

I politely turned him down and he asked me to “explain my logic.” Dbag. I said that I wasn’t going to go home with a guy I just met five minutes ago and he immediately went into some philosophical rant about how that’s not a good reason because

1) I can Google him and find out that he’s not a serial killer and

2) he would be totally open to having some kind of friendship/relationship afterward.

I told him I didn’t want to see him afterward, let alone right now, and also judging from this conversation he probably had body parts in his closet. He also said he detected some kind of “physical attraction,” unless he was off. I replied that he was off. He added that I hadn’t told him to fuck off yet, so I “obviously felt something.” I told him I feel like I’m interested in this conversation because I find it hilarious and I want to see where else he’s trying to go with this. I also wanted to know, BTW, who wrote his scripts.

PS- I should have told him that he was about to “feel” my knee in his crotch. I always think of the best shit when it’s too late!

Then he told me that he would be the best hook-up I ever had. I laughed in his face. I told him that the fact that I said no 800 times and he’s still harassing me is enough to get me to never go anywhere with him, ever, except the nearest precinct. Also I admit the that I kept the conversation going partially so I could be a total bitch.

Then, just when I thought I was safe, he countered with, “here’s what we should do. Hook up.” I proclaimed that here’s what I should do- then I grabbed Hurricane, put our drinks on a table, and exited stage right. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him make a beeline for another, even younger girl who I almost thought about saving but I decided not to push it since I was already in the clear.

After that we decided to stick to places I had previously gotten loaded at and may have already made out with somebody already knew and loved. We chose one of the West Village music venues and this time it was Hurricane’s turn to meet some guy who, while decidedly pretty cute, was not taking the RealFeel all that great, while I agreed to play wingwoman. I talked to this dude’s friend for a while before I realized he was a total creeper. After a while he started yelling that he just HAD to see me again and he offered to give me a job at his company to get me to stay in NYC. I was terrified that he was going to offer to marry me. I was almost ready to smash my glass on the ground just so I could stab myself with one of the shards until I happened to look to my left for some assistance and realized that Hurricane’s future alimony check had a much hotter friend OH HAAAAI.

As it turned out, dude turned out to be from Toronto, which I could tell immediately because he actually said “ABOOT” and “EH.” HAHAHAHAHA! That is amazing! (PS, Tabs- I asked him if he knew you and he said no. If he wasn’t a total Canada stereotype I would have assumed he was lying because everyone knows you.)

Despite the fact that he looked almost EXACTLY like Peyton Manning but way hotter and with a decidedly more perfect nose, Canadian Bacon of course was a hockey fan , so we traded barbs about the Rangers vs. the Leafs. As a Blue Jays fan, he also harbored a disdain for the Yankees (sorry, Tits), so I decided right there that I was going to bear his perfect 6’3 children.

Seriously, imagine our genetic mashup.

He asked for my number within five minutes and I felt kind of bad because this other dude was watching but hey, you snooze, you lose. It’s not my fault that this guy implemented the MAC System.

Creeper Dude turned out to be a pussy that admitted defeat by just going home without saying goodbye or anything, so the rest of us- Hurricane, Sweatstack,  Bacon and myself- went for late night mac and cheese. After a couple of hours, Hurricane and the Stack were heavily making out on some bench while I silently cursed my own bodily functions. Hurricane had to get up super-early for work the next morning, so Bacon and I decided to hang out. Over the course of the night he had dropped hints that I was welcome to come back to his apartment, and I almost cried because STUPID STUPID PERIOD. When he finally asked me straight out to come home with him I made moving-related excuses because I was NOT telling some dude I just met about my womanly issues. It may have seemed kind of ballsy on his part to assume that I would just up and fuck him when I had known him for like, three hours; however, at this point we had already made out in the middle of the street and almost gotten hit by a car twice. So, uh, yeah. One can’t exactly blame a guy for “going there.”

Before you guys get all judge-y and shit keep in mind that again, I rarely get hit on and have not gotten any action in like three months AND there was vodka involved. I am usually not this big of a whore.

Anyway:

I did kind of like this guy and besides, his Canadian accent was hysterical and he let me make fun of him, and I didn’t want to be that girl- you know, the girl that lets a guy grope her in the street and then is like, “Well, thanks for doing awesome shit with your hands there. See ya!” So I decided to come clean (Ha. Ha ha.) and tell him,  ”look, I wasn’t going to say anything but I’m having girl issues. Like, GIRL ISSUES.” After some minimal blinking, he figured out what I meant and basically told me he was cool with it if I was, and we could do “other stuff.” Works for me! Let’s get a cab!

NYC Cab Driver and Elevator Personnel- if you are reading this, I apologize. That is all.

The last time I was in a guy’s apartment, he acted like a total pussy and pretended that he hadn’t invited me there for a session of deep railing (no, I don’t want a snack, just take off your damn pants already) so I was seriously impressed by how Bacon did not waste ANY TIME. He didn’t offer me a drink or anything, he just turned off the bedroom light, picked me up and like, practically threw me on the bed (that shit hurts, yo. I’m small and frail. Like a Smurf).

Come on, now. That shit ain't right.

Sidenote: his boxers said “Canada” on them. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

What I did not appreciate is how he kept telling me that there would be a “next time” and that he would pay me for me to fly back to New York whenever I wanted. I once hooked up with this guy I thought was my friend and I was expecting nothing else- just a fun night that could possibly (but probably not) lead to some interesting, sporadic hookups. The guy had the tendency (and by “tendency” I mean “constantly”) to treat women like doggy chew toys, so I didn’t even want it go any further. Then he totally ruined everything by declaring his “feelings” for me and spouting off a whole bunch of other shit that I knew wasn’t true (he admitted it later), and basically treated me like all the little 20-year-olds that follow him around and actually believe that they’re going to be his wife or something. It wasn’t what he said that pissed me off, it was the fact that he said it. BTW, I did confront him about this and we no longer speak. Guys, seriously- not every girl needs you to fall in love with them. Some of us really just want to acquire a booty call or- try not to fall over- really do want what you refer to as a “hookup.” Get over it.

Anyway, back to the Bacon. We had already come to the mutual agreement that we weren’t going to do what he had previously referred to as EVERYTHING, although things were getting pretty hot (dude is a dirty talker, which I have to admit was making me curse my girly problems even more). What made it even worse for both of us is the fact that he had an immaculate bedroom and white sheets. We got as far as we possibly could without actually going as far as we possibly could. Bacon got a little stingy when it came to the give-and-take; like, we already knew I wasn’t going to get any; but he expected me to do everything (and I mean everything) else? I think emphatically not. I wasn’t that much of a hard-ass, but all his begging made it even worse and I almost walked out. Oh, also: what I got WAS pretty good, but the constant self-accolades were seriously annoying. I don’t need a “preview,” I get it. You’re awesome. Let’s move on.

Here’s where the night got weird: My gross menstrual state left a lot to the imagination (hey, I was ABSOLUTELY willing; but I definitely understood his issues). I get that. Why, though, when he was totally willing to, ahem, make good use of his hands, was he so adamant about the no-sex clause? Wouldn’t that be like, less disgusting? Was it a no-sheets thing? I don’t know. That was totally bizarre. Has this ever happened to you guys?  I’d really appreciate some insight here because I am seriously confused.

Oh, Canada. Thanks for tarnishing my final memory of my home and native land.

At least I have a hilarious story to blog about.