I can't help myself.

OK. I had a fruit fly problem that got out of hand for awhile. I couldn't figure out where they were coming from. I was convinced they were compliments of the store and came as a little incentive built into fruit so you had to eat it all quicker...to get back to the buying of more fruit... Then I found the real source. I was putting some laundry in the washer, because that's pretty much how I spent my solid week of vomit, and my elbow bumped into some empties that were in my laundry room. Well, let me just tell you. Time to rinse the empties people. EVERY TIME. EVERY CAN. ALWAYS!! So, I bumped into the empties (weird hey? I NEVER bump into things) and HUNDREDS of these tiny flying demons take flight. All around me. It was horrible. Needless to say, with flailing arms, I made things worse as they dispersed throughout my house like a plague.

So...what now? Telling my woes to my friend Amber, she tells me how to rig a fruit fly trap. So I'm stoked and decide to take action. I set up traps all over my house. I tried different lures. Amber swears by vinegar in the trap. I didn't have much luck with that. I put beer in one, and got a pretty good turn out. Put blueberries in another...which proceeded to just turn moldy... apparently fruit flies aren't as fond of blueberry mold as you'd expect. One I put apple juice in, which was not as as well recepted as I thought either, but not completely ignored. Same thing with orange juice. However, the goldmine? Banana. Banana makes these little suckers go nuts. They couldn't get in my trap fast enough! They were fighting to get in, I swear. OK, this is getting long winded. I'll wrap it up by saying I have gotten my fruit fly problem cleared up, but I haven't been able to part with my trap. I'm so sick, I swear. I keep checking in on them and watching this piece of banana liquify. The grossest part of all of it is listening to them trying to get out of the trap and bouncing off the plastic wrap. Here... check it out yourself.

I don't feel the need to show you how gross I really am. I do, however have a real issue with trying to gross out others. So, for the weak of stomach, please click play. It's not gross. I swear.

I thought The Duck would find this clip particularly disgustingly intriguing, as he has done a post on maggots and expressed a similar "want to look away, but can't" kind of attitude that I have struggled with for days with these creepy members of our food chain.

Have a great weekend everyone...

Cars on the brain.... its better than water I guess.

NEWS FLASH!!!! NEWS FLASH!!!!

POST UPDATE!!!

I just posted a little diddy on the AWESOME AMALGAMATION blog! Check it out HERE!! and leave a comment so we know you stopped by. And tell your friends, and send DUCK and email that you want to post something. I think this blog is very creative and deserves a lot more traffic. Be sure to read the very first post to get a feel for the blog and find out what its about!! And lets keep having FUN on it!!

Look at this little VW holding its own... This was in the parking lot at MaMiller's one day. I had to take a picture.

Now THIS is a sweet-assed ride dudes. Serious bragging rights here...
Ok, now this kinda made me actually WANT a smart car.

ALMOST!!!

In other news, I am still the funniest person ALIIIIIIVE. And thinking about doing my own radio show. What do you, my fans think?

I taste delicious!!

Friends
You have no Friends.
Let people know when you've added new videos! You can attract friends by uploading interesting and relevant videos, or by adding videos to your video log.

Trust the internet to make you feel like a bigger loser at some rediculous hour. That little face slapper above is some part of my YouTube ..homepage?...maybe?... I don't know, but in order for you to see this funny clip I came across, I had to sign up. At almost 3 AM, being T-boned, I mean told, that I have no friends sucked. It actually really bummed me out. So, I played the clip again, and it cheered me up almost right away. So much so that I think I will go eat myself. So lets get down to business shall we? I don't have time to wait around. Seriously. Press play and turn your sound down when the screaming begins... just kidding. What? Don't you trust me? Really? Wow. That's hurtful people . Really, really hurtful (and by people, I mean you... my fan...yes you. .i'm totally talking to you).

Hope your weekend doesn't entail you chewing your own leg off. That would suck.

Honorary American? OOH-RAH.

Well, I was at it hard again this morning dumbing up Dave and Jenn's radio show. Listen to it and tell me what you think.

Your prostate is my passion

OK men, listen up. I have a few things to say about the state of your prostate. Tell me. How is your prostate? Is it healthy? Have you had it checked.....? Do you even know the history of your families prostate? Ya. That's what I thought.
I'm not going to go into a big rant about how much more intrusive and actually painful pap smears can be. And I won't mention that we, as women, have had to undergo said torture since we were basically invitro. (Or how incredibly hot the little stirrups are. Well, that's more of a perk actually) Anyway, because my attention span is pathetic lately, I don't even remember why I'm writing this post. I do know, however that prostate cancer is one of the most treatable cancers out there....but early detection is key here men. Take care of your prostate. Looooove your prostate.....long time. hahaha...

911...what is your emergency? hello? hello? sir? you will have to speak up. we can hardly hear you through your tin can.

Ok, I was checking out lyrics last night ~~(because if you remember((and you should, there may be a pop quiz about me at any time...keep your pencils sharp)) i am listening more and enjoying the words lately.) ~~because otherwise, i'd have to vacuum or something like that (well, I did unload and load my dishwasher!! Yea ME!!). Anyway, in order to keep my post short so you have time to read the lyrics of this song, I will just say, it's freaking funny and actually had me laughing really hard...

Lords Of Acid - The Crab Louse Lyrics
(Super Scratcher With A Golden Shower Rainbow Mix)

I wanna talk to you about forbidden pleasures of the flesh
The most thrilling satisfaction for all mankind
Better than everything you've ever imagined in your wildest dreams
The secret of ..... the crab louse

Here's a message for the girls about vaginas
And the consequence of fiddling with a partner
Mind your labia they're never out of danger
If you're gonna go to bed with a stranger
Creatures might be hidden in his pubic area
It's the crab louse it's out to getcha
It's gonna grab you by the pubic hair
Shake your pussy when the bastard's there

It's there to stay
Sucks all day
It's there to bite
My parasite

The little vampire, horny and so greedy
It doesn't care about a penis and it's envy
Its intelligence is nasty and it's sick
A party animal, a pervert, and a pig
If a crab louse mixes up with your saliva
Stumbles through your body right into your vulva
Then waits patiently until a penetration
Gets it out of there and right into salvation

It's there to stay
Sucks all day
It's there to bite
My parasite
My love machine
My maddest dream
Turns me on
Makes me cum

Now we know the little crab louse is a raver
You can't get rid of it unless you use a razor
It's unbearable, funky and so cool
A real smartass and nobody's fool
If you meet a guy who's scratching at his totem
We all know that it's connected with his scrotum
He might tell you his undie is too tight
You will know that it's a crab louse and you're right

It's there to stay
Sucks all day
It's there to bite
My parasite
My love machine
My maddest dream
Turns me on
Makes me cum

Ok, moving on. Phats says I'm on the phone too much. He says it a lot. But I still know he's wrong. I am in demand. People to talk to. I am a giver. I listen most of the time too when I'm not completely distracted. I say sitting and typing blows when I could be sitting on my couch talking, or, (Heaven forbid) actually cleaning. So, you may be wondering why I am telling you this. It's because Phats doesn't have a phone. At all. I'm serious. He would actually have to go nextdoor to dial 911.... so....ahhhh, ya. Anyhoo... I decided to take matters into my own hands. I'm like that. I'm a dooer. I found Phats a phone for free. Phats, if you are reading this (of course you are! what was i thinking??) it's right down by Gyro Beach in Oak Bay on the side of the road with some crappy old baby things and old monitors. It a goldmine actually. A thrift store owners wet dream. I'll probably be heading past again. It really would be no trouble to pick it up for you. Just let me know.

Hey, question. Do you think I should go on the my point radio show again? I'm not saying I'm ready to sign a contract, hahaha, but should I do it again?

Good night my sweet ADORABLE cher addicts. oooh how happy you make me.

I've been really busy...

...neglecting everyone and everything. "i don't know how to tell you this, but i'm kind of a big deal"... don't believe me? Check out my brilliant football picks on phats blog.... or listen to the spot i did on my point radio.... by clicking the title My Point Radio, back from summer vacation in the archives. it should have a little doohickey to play the show in the little box with the little write up...about who you might ask?? yes, that's right. Me.

If you want to hear me (bring down the class of their show a few notches) being interviewed by David and Jenn , then I suggest you take the time to do just that. I'm on at the end, like the last 15 or 20 minutes or so, for those of you who may be pressed for time. (By the way, thanks for all your support, my adoring fans, who listened in and showered me with compliments, both via email as well as commented on my last post...which, by the way, i did take the time out of my day to respond to each and everyone of you. I'm such a giver... you're welcome.)

So in other breaking news, that directly links to me, everyone needs to know about this new blog that The (extremely funny (go check out his blog)) Duck was the creator of...(but lets face it, his lovely wife probably did most of it...haha). It is called Awesome Amalgamation. I too, will be gracing the pages of this blog, jumping on, and riding this bandwagon until it makes me officially, the funniest person aliiiiive.. Come check it out. Be sure to click on the first post to see the blogs Mission Statement. And leave comments!

Is the caller there?

Well, I think I must be crazy for real. I have agreed to publicly humiliate myself on an online radio show. Click here to read the details So, apparently, if you click on THIS LINK tomorrow morning, you should be able to hear me live... talking to some people about things I know nothing about and completely misrepresenting Canada in general. I can't wait! My mother would be proud. Apparently, you can call into the show at this number (347) 996-5948 and speak to me live. If you listen, please call in and save me from myself!! Awe, come on...call in....I dare you.


In other news, this is a most excellent way to occupy your child in a Starbucks bathroom.
To all my American bloggers out there... note the flag on Everett's shirt. Just a little 9/11-we won't forget-action for you there.

By the way, I had to take and post these pictures solely on the fact that I have been told to stop taking pictures in public bathrooms. Apparently it's gross. Well, guess what? I say yes, it probably is gross. I'm ok with it. Oh, ya, and don't tell me what to do. You're not the boss of me.

Ha haha. I was routing for the pickle too

Aircools make me drool

If you are new to my blog, you will find out soon enough of my love of Volkswagen's.

This T-shirt was a b-day present from my brother. Made of hemp. Very cool in my opinion.

Some people read to their children cute little books on how to behave or how to brush their teeth. I, on the other hand, only allow my children access to anything VW. I just think it's really important that they learn as young as possible that the ONLY thing that matters in this crazy life is what car you drive, and if it is a Volkswagen or not.Here is a great photo of Everett being force fed the thought that the most excellent of all Volkswagen's is the 67 or older VW Bus. Rob loves that I spend $15/month on this magazine. I love the whole process that comes with buying it... going to the not so local, dingy, stuffy little magazine store... saying hello to the snotty "customer service" lady with a twist of sarcasm that she never gets because she's dumb and I'm not being nice, but she thinks I am... walking to the back of the store to the automotive section... and seeing the next months edition... all shiny and smooth and undog-eared yet... Seriously, talk about adrenaline!I also get this magazine delivered to my house every month. Not as exciting as the whole going to the store experience, but still quite a rush opening my mailbox and seeing something that is related to Volkswagen's with my name on it.

Here's a photo of a very cool custom bike indeed. For those of you that don't know, I started rebuilding a 66 Squareback (scroll down to the bottom of the post in the link to see a photo of my car) last year. Then Winter came and it got so cold in my garage that I couldn't stand it. So it got put on hold. Now as I realize as Summer is over, that I'm sad that I spent so much time on my porch instead of in my garage.

I need to be re motivated. I begged Rob for months for this car. It was just rotting in someones yard. (This can not end up like the sewing machine I needed or my life couldn't go on...that is now being neglected at my friend Alan's house.) Finally, Rob gave in, I started negotiations and picked it up for $400. It is a far cry from the bus I want to own one day, but a great start for my first project car. I have to get back at it. I remember pretty much where I was at. I just lack the motivation, as with almost everything in my life. But I woke up today and thought, if I put the thought out there in blogworld, people might hold me to it and start asking me again how I'm making out with it...and eventually the guilt will take such a hold of me, it will throw my lethargic ass down the stairs and into the garage.

It's 1:30PM and I have barely left the couch. I feel sick to my stomach, and that's bumming me out. I am having a little pity party on the couch, if anyone would like to join me.

So today is a holiday. Labor Day. To celebrate, I will not labor at all.
I was trying to think of something to post about when I remembered it was Labor Day (thanks DG for the text reminding me) which reminded me of Victoria Day, the last long weekend we had here in, well, Victoria. My friend was in town visiting me and we went downtown to go walk around and get in a good dose of people watching and possibly even trip a tourist or two.
Well, to make a long story short, and get on with the photographic evidence, I had to pee. We were down on the boardwalk, and there were so many people. I was more than a little nervous as I walked towards the bathrooms. Preoccupied with the thought of how many different ways the integrity of the washroom had been compromised... I knew it would be gross. I expected it to be gross. But what I didn't prepare myself for was the possibility that there would be no toilet paper. ANYWHERE. I was pissed. (haha) But I am also very creative and resourceful. And I had to go. So, on with the show right?
Here, we have my options. I was going to take a picture of the first waste receptacle I looked in just for pure shock value, but didn't. This is where you thank me. You would have tossed your cookies. It was just waaaaaay too gross...even for me....and would have been in my face, literally, as I tired to hover over a pee drizzled seat with the grace of a swimming cat. I was actually quite pleased with my find. At first I contemplated just using the cup. Then in the most excellent Maguiver-like fashion, I rigged this shit up.I even had the foresight to save some for later. I even tore some off for my friend. She may be more graceful than I am in her straddling toilet seat technique, but just as thankful of my corrigated cardboard sleeve find, as I was.

Why you should be glad I'm not your wife.

We have people over a lot lately it seems. I try and make people feel as comfortable as possible when they are at my house. I asked Rob if he thought people would think I was rude if I left this note in this basket in the bathroom. He said, and I quote..."Well, people will definately know that you wrote it and not me." Nice. I left it up and still put it out when anyone comes over. Ok, so that's maybe not the most convincing reason you wouldn't want to be my wife. Lets try the fact that I drink too much, have terrible writing and normally end up in a ditch. This note may seem cute and funny to you, but how many notes like this could you actually wake up to?"It is in THAT ditch. I KNOW it." hahaha. The retarded thing is there are about 24 ditches on your way to MaMiller's (my close enough to walk to cold beer and wine store). There is no THAT ditch. I actually don't even remember writing this note. I stood in my kitchen reading it laughing to myself as if I was reading it for the first time...picking ditch out of my hair. I later went for a walk to try and find my phone. What did I find? Not just my phone, but my wallet AND one of my shoes. Oh ya, nothing but class with me. For the record, I was fine in that ditch. If my friend hadn't threaten to go get Rob to come and get me, I may still be there.Ok folks. Admit it. Almost 9 years later, you'd be so sick of me. I am chronically tired, annoying, forgetful, self-absorbed, addicted to my computer lately, and fully aware of it.

Pet Peeves

• getting goose bumps right after I've shaved.
• waking up
• lately, any form of housework
• realizing I'm not listening and it's actually something important.
• bruises
• trying to sleep every single night and not succeeding
• forgetting everything
• Dave never comments on my blog
• when someone takes it upon themselves to throw out my coffee because its cold.
• trying to do anything with 2 boys climbing all over me while they yell at the top of their lungs
• dry mouth
• people who can't merge
• hair in the soap
• Star Jones
• forgetting everything
• Auto immune disorders
• almost always wishing I was doing something different than what I am doing
• worrying constantly
• my concentration levels lately
• not owning a 67 or lower VW bus yet
• cat hair everywhere
• being one of the worst decision makers ever
• people who actually have and can keep a fully stocked liquor cabinet
• the power of suggestion
• how much Rob is working out lately and how lazy and flabby he's making me look
• when one of my kids is having a meltdown but not believing in spanking
• being late
• listening to people eat
• never knowing where my eye drops are
• bumping into things and people all the time
• when people say it will be ok and you know it will never be ok again
• only ever thinking about tripping people and never following through
• forgetting everything

blah blah blah sports...

T.Leach. I hope you are safe.

Life inside my mug

The other morning, a friend of mine said to me, "EEEW!!! Cher, I can't drink this! It's so gross! It doesn't even taste like coffee!!" Then, literally moments later, my other friend Mike, walks off of my porch and back inside and says to me as he puts his empty mug on my counter "That was, without a doubt, the BEST cup of homemade coffee I've ever had!" Go figure.

I like my coffee strong. More than strong really, rich, dark, nice head, black.

I want to taste coffee.

Not bitter, flavorless, thin, watery coffee served by retards (who for sure had to wear a helmet on the bus on their way to work and were hired to fill a quota) that leaves a nasty after taste in your mouth from not just the crappy service, but because the coffee itself has no heart.

I like espresso.

I like triple shots, short, long, easy water americanos (how weird is that to say? Of course MY coffee is an oximoron).

I will drink decaf.

I will occationally sip your flavored sissy coffee to remind myself how much better of a person I am than you. Oops. I mean to remind myself how much better coffee is when it's just left alone. I'm just not into dressing my coffee up and parading it around and around its mug like some child beauty contest entry.

Coffee... I love you.

I love you hot, I love you cold, I love you luke warm and even reheated. I just thought that since you are so dependable and make my day...every single day... you deserve a shout out.

you decide

OK DG and T.Leech.
Email me which photo you want autographed because I can't make decisions lately at all. I guess my lazy-assed, brain damaged, trailerpark mentality can work its way into my blog world quite successfully too.

GET ME A COKE!! do my laundry.... "hi, i'm Phats and I'm the hottest blogger alive (oh, and the only cool thing about me is that Cher is my friend.)"

Ok, Phats.

Enough is enough. It's been like what? 3 years since you've been asking me for it?

I am tired of telling people they can't have your coke. I'm done. I have so much stress in my life right now that I just simply can't focus on your can of coke any longer. It's just silly now.

It's been sitting in my fridge wasting space. And trust me, as a non pop drinker (we call it mix) there is just no room in my fridge for your silly, little, single can of coke. Do you have any idea how many times I've knocked it over trying to cram my 2 litre back in? Oh, wait, ya I guess you do because you don't sleep either and you keep me up all night. (This is true people. I don't know if you know about Phat's power to keep you on line, but it can get down right annoying when you are sitting on a wicker stool and your back is sore. He is in a very strange way, one of our best friends, as well as one of my biggest fans.

All slander aside, I can make him laug, oh, wait, i mean HE can make M..no, again, I apologize. I was right the first time... I can make him laugh and he's aparently not going anywhere, so I may as well keep him. HIM...not the COKE. I'm done with the coke. I think I may have mentioned that earlier. Drink it or I will Phats. No, drink it or I DUMP it!!! (look Duck...2 !!'s points!! wow!!)

What do they say? 'have a coke and a smile'? or 'coke is it'? or 'here's your stupid coke you whiny bitc...' oh, wait a minute. I don't think that was so much a commercial per say, as much as a guarenteed thought I have when I talk to you...

Phats, this drinks on me.

Bottoms up buddy.

Cher



PS (Rob was afraid to do a cameo "hello Phats" bit mid post because he was on his way to bed and was afraid your on line powers might suck him in even if he wasn't actually talking to you directly.)

OK, for those of you who wonder why my camera wasn't focussed last night at some rediculous hour, cope. It says.. "PHAT'S COKE. THERE. NOW SHUT UP ABOUT IT."

PPSI bet if Phats knew I was about to post this post about him he'd be chomping at the bit and driving me nuts right now and it would have taken an hour and a bit longer to write this..

Crofton kicked his soother to the curb. Which is good because he had like an $8.00 a week habit. Once he started chewing holes in them, it was time to say goodbye to the "soo".

3 nights of horror is much more appealing than lying in bed awake wishing I knew the Heimlich.

***

I have a friend of mine visiting from out of town. Lucky her hey?

***

I still owe DG and T.Leech an autographed photo of me. I need a personal assistant to gently remind me how forgetful I am. I am sorry you guys. It's just that I am so completely full of myself that its hard to truly focus on other people and their needs.

DG is at least compensated with random text messages. T.Leach is rewarded by me drunk emailing him.

***

I don't feel like I have anytime for myself. I also have brain damage and completely forgot my new bath itinerary already. Time to remember to give it another whirl. I need to relax and breathe and feel calm...not as easy for me as it sounds.

***

I loath clutter and trinkets and figurines. My perfect house would look like no one lived there. However, it looks like I run some kind of hostel for people who bring crap with them and leave it all over my house. How does this happen? My house looks so lived in. It is looming over me like the threat of liver disease on the worm. My house feels out of control and on top of me and it has for too long. Forget the yardboy, I need a house cleaner. Full time.

***

My radio is on 24 hours a day.

***

Lately I am enjoying words a lot.

***

I wear clothes that are 3 sizes too big for me. I don't know why. It is comfortable to me. Always has been. It could stem from being too lazy to bother with buttons and zippers. If I can't undo the belt and be done with it, it's just too much work. I will hold it.

I've been told lately that I look like I've lost weight.

Hint, if you switch from 3 sizes too big of clothes to 1 or 2 sizes too big, or even a t-shirt that fits, people lavish you with compliments of how good you look and how much weight you've lost.

My personal favorite lately has been "you're wasting away to nothing!" hahahaha. ya right. That's exactly what's happening. Poor tiny, shrinking me.

***

A Starbucks card is the best gift possible for me. Pretty much always. AND you can reload someones card online. My brother is such a great brother.

***

My best friend Lors thinks I should scan some pictures of stuff I've doodled or made.

What do you think?

***

Fogged up clearity.

Cool picture hey? If I stole this from your blog, please don't sue me. Consider yourself lucky that I was on your blog at all.

I feel so spacey lately. All wound up. I am tired. I can't concentrate. Coffee is my best friend. Even cold.

Don't worry about me. Really. I am fine. I just feel stressed out. Stress, stress, stress. I know everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. But lately, my old faithful coping mechanisms aren't nearly effective enough. I just can't relax.

So last night, I was really not feeling good and had to do something to get a grip on life. I decided to try a bath. Rob baths all the time. He suggests me having one all the time. It all just seems like a lot of work to me. But, feeling strung out sucks more than feeling lazy. So I decided to give it a shot. I made it really hot. Almost unbearably hot. Popped in a movie and laid there. It doesn't even matter what movie. I can't concentrate anyway. But it actually, surprisingly, felt really nice to lay there. I think I get the bath thing.
I'm not great at what you need to do in the bath, which is just stay in one spot and "unwind". But I think I will practice. I think the thing I liked the most about the bath was that there is nothing else you are supposed to be doing. If I decide to "go to bed early" and watch a movie or something, I end up folding laundry in bed or getting up through the whole thing and doing all the things that pop into my head. You don't do that when you are in the bath. It's too much work to get in and out. A bath forces you to stop. A bath is great for mandatory me time. Cher time, if you will. I think I will spend a lot more time in the bath. I will practice until I am such a bath pro that the bath is going to cringe when I walk in the room. I'm going to bath until I can't bath anymore. And then, just when I'm done having a bath, I'm going to hop back in and bathe some more. That's right folks, I am putting the "bath" back in "bathroom".

So, lets talk about the ways people cope with stress. Lets talk technique. What do you do to cope with stress? Any kind of stress. Physical, mental, emotional... what are your coping skills?

(side note...if anyone reads other peoples comments, please note this is the link that Mr.Shife(roar) was hoping worked. LINK )

The boys are getting big hey?
This picture isn't entirely new either.
Everett started walking on the 18th!!! Sweet hey? I was beginning to think my hip would be out of place forever. Turns out, it'll just be my mind.

This is my porch swing. I swing on it a lot. The earwigs seemed to have given me some breathing room. But they are sneaky. I'm on to them.

So, there were some pretty good suggestions on what to blog about. Big Mama, suggested I send some love out to you all, my adoring fans. I say forget it. You're all too needy. Lets talk about me;)

Phats thinks I should blog about him. But I just don't have that kind of time on my hands. Besides, where would I even start?

T.Leach thinks sports. Ya, right.

Mr.Shife thinks I should talk about how fabulous Canadian bacon is. This was actually very tempting, seeing as I too have a soft spot for the smokey pig meat, but I haven't had much of an appetite lately.

Jamwall didn't have a suggestion so much as an entry to the complaint department. Suck it up Princess. It's just pneumonia! Man he's whiny. Blah blah blah...my poor lungs.... I have an idea, why not stop freebasing windex and chasing it with liquid plumber? Or even better, stop feeding your frog nude pictures of yourself. It's just plain weird.

Kingcover wants something other than one eye because of the cyclops factor.

I say I'm going to leave it at this and call it a post.

I feel so drained lately. And don't actually feel like I have much to give you.