Craigslist Ad #1

Excellent condition Staples Executive Mesh-Back Manager's Chair for sale.

Paid $229 pre-tax, selling for $120.

Pickup only as I do not have a car. And past attempts to deliver large objects by bike have failed miserably. Hilariously entertaining for those stuck in traffic watching me try to balance a chest of drawers on my handlebars and NOT meet certain death from oncoming cars. Yes, HILARIOUS. But entirely unsafe. And who wants to put that sort of worry on their mother? Not me.

The chair is a goodly one. I'll be honest with you though, it didn't get a lot of use. This is because I sit on the floor a lot. Using cushions or kneeling. That is because my computer is only 2 feet off the ground. And because sometimes it pays to be that much closer to the floor - like ACTUALLY pays - I found $2.38 in small change when I was down here. So this chair just sort of sat in my home office to make me look more credible and "managerial." Alas, it is time to sell it as I am looking to move in the near future and hauling a manager's chair to a new location where it will NOT be sat on seems ridiculous. Not as ridiculous as say, a monkey wearing a hardhat and building low-rise apartment buildings (they're taking our jobs!) but enough to warrant mentioning.

You can either look at the chair's specs at this link:

Manager Chair Specs

or I can tell you a bit about it:

Its black. And rolls over hard surfaces. It has adjustable height AND adjustable recline tension (oooooooh). The armrests adjust up and down and the mesh backing keeps you cool when you find yourself sweating profusely while sitting. Perhaps you have a high stress job (investor? broker? customer service for a cell phone company?), or maybe you live in a hot climate (in which case why are you looking for chairs to purchase HERE? the shipping cost will bankrupt you), or maybe you are one of those hard core athletes that strap a chair to your back and do the Grouse Grind every morning at 6:00a.m. (in which case we say this mesh fabric "breathes" and "wicks moisture away"). I wouldn't presume to know anything about your life. Nor am I judging. Maybe you just sweat a lot. Is it glandular? Could be. All I'm saying is that the back of this chair is mesh and therefor allows for maximum air flow to keep YOU comfortable.

So there it is. You get a $229 (pre-tax!) chair for $120 (no tax!) (I think there's someone else selling one on craigslist for $160. His is "mint" condition. Which means that he's even less managerial than me. Or maybe he collects chairs and keeps them in mint condition and then trades them for other chairs in mint condition. Again, I make no judgments on what people do in their lives) and I get to go about my life on the floor but with more space in my office and less hassle when it comes time to pack. And to show my good faith, I'd even let it go for $100 and a bottle of wine. I have low standards in that department. And if the wine you pick is rubbish I'll use it in a stew. So if you ARE thinking of going for this option, make it red and I'll celebrate my new chairless-ness with a beef bourguignon.

Talking To Ralph On the Great White Telephone

Life is busy. Spring is here. Rodents are mating in my walls. Giant raindrops are splattering against my windows. My students are determined to kill me by touching every square inch of my piano with their little disease-impregnated fingers. So, long story short I'm feeling a bit sleep-deprived, sun-deprived and health-deprived.

But what's funny about that? Sounds like a bunch of whining to me. And if I read one more person's blog about the "trials and tribulations" of their daily life followed by some cheesy quote I will barf. Probably not actually barf. More a metaphoric barfing. Its been years since I did a literal barf. YEARS. And I think tequila shots at some sort of Western-themed bar back in University may have been the culprit. Mind you, does it really count as a barf if you don't remember the act itself, but instead hear a description of the act second-hand from a witness who wisely had one less tequila shot than you? That's a cheater barf I think. For it to be legit you have to be be able to recount the details in the first person. Whoah. How did this turn into a post about barf?? Ok. Enough. There are fucking children who read this blog.

My point: being short on time and energy but still wanting to put up something so Katy doesn't halt her daily visits (thus devastating my hit counter and making it appear that no one reads this thing) I'm posting an interlude of craigslist ads that I actually have taken the time to write. Turns out I can be motivated to write when there's the potential for cash at the end of hitting the "publish" button. It's the delusional way to call oneself a paid author. A paid author with a lot fewer belongings.....Hey! let me know if you want to buy anything! The Friend Special means not only do you get to pay the full asking price, but you also get to bring me a sandwich when you come pick your purchase up. Because that's what friends do for friends who are selling all their belongings. Right friend?

Mouse Maelstrom

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live inside a candy cane? Not once? I find that hard to believe. Judging from the nonsensical blogs you read (ex. this one), you're the sort of person who would have pondered habitation within the walls of genetically modified-corn-syrup-laden holiday treats at least once in your life. Fine, we'll play it your way and pretend you're not as crazy as you really are. Here's the answer:

Minty.

That's right. Minty. When sealed up inside a candy cane the only thing your senses will be able to register is intense brain-shattering minty-ness.

Which is exactly what I am living in right now. Did you know that mice have a natural aversion to mint? This is what the internet has taught me. I had to resort to Google since the surveys I left for the mice to fill out regarding their likes and dislikes have yet to be completed and returned. Well that's not entirely true, one did come back but in red ink. How hard is it to follow the instruction "please use a #2 HB pencil" ?! If you can lick the peanut butter off a trap without meeting certain death, then you can properly fill out a multiple choice survey dammit!

Right, so the internet told me that since mice don't like mint, a good way to make your house less desirable for them to live in is to saturate every molecule of matter in it with peppermint essential oil. So I spent a day dousing cotton balls with mint oil and shoving them in little holes, spraying the carpet perimeter of each room with peppermint infused water, and in general just doing my best to leave no surface un-minted. By nightfall the fumes were so strong I was having intense urges to go outside and hang festively over the branch of my neighbor's evergreen tree. So after all that work and all that delirium, you can only imagine how enraged I was to hear the scritchy-scratch of tiny vermin in my walls come 11:00pm. How is this possible?!

There is only one obvious answer: They were ready for it. They knew what was coming. Clearly they logged onto my computer while I was sleeping and searched my internet browsing history. "How To Destroy The Lives of Rodents" would have come up as a top hit. Sneaky buggers. And if you're a mouse who's just discovered the massive chemical warfare about to be unleashed on your kind, what do you stock up on? You guessed it: gas masks.

Teeny-tiny mouse-sized gas masks. There's an independent wholesaler based out of Texas that specializes in miniatures - you can get ANYTHING there but in 1/50th of the regular size. I bet that's who they went with. So not only are they resourceful fuckers but they don't even support the local economy! Yes, perhaps Mike the Miniature Man in Winnipeg isn't quite as skilled as Billy-Bob Baggarly but c'mon, do the words MADE IN CANADA not pull on your ethical heartstrings in any way?!

So there you have it. Astute, organized and outfitted for war. Can there be any other logical explanation of why my mint efforts failed so pitifully? No? Then Occam's razor it is.*

So if you're reading this mice, heed my message: I'M ON TO YOU. May we meet in battle. 2:00a.m. My kitchen. You with your toothpick ninja stick thingy, me with my tinfoil hat and laser gun made from toilet paper rolls and red cellophane. When its all said and done, only one of us will be nibbling holes in the bottom of Raisin Bran boxes.......

*Some may dispute that the simplest explanation probably ISN'T computer-savvy mice ordering combat paraphernalia online from a Texan. May I direct those folks here.

R-ant Redux.

The ants are back.

And this time they've brought a mouse with them as reinforcement. Not that I blame them, I did wipe out their entire colony last May with a deadly cocktail of borax and icing sugar. So apparently the collective pain-body of ants is real! Eckart Tolle will be fascinated to know this (because he reads my blog) and this pain-body lives on generations after such horrors as the Great Gen-sectocide of 2009. This new wave of ants is relentless, calculated and gives off the spooky vibe "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER." (insert Jennifer Love Hewitt joke here and flash to creepy dude in wellingtons wielding a large hook. Hey we all own saw that movie, some of us are just more honest about it than others...)

Getting off track.

Ants + mouse = scheduling nightmare for Sarah. Do you have any idea how stressful it is to be responsible for killing numerous species at once? I mean, where do you allot your time? Which pest gets priority? The mouse is a filthy rodent that carries disease and keeps me up at night with incessant scratching in my walls. The ants though are plentiful and just keep marching in 2 by 2 (hoorah! hoorah!). If only there was a combined product I could use to eradicate them both. An-ouse Annihilator. M-ant Murder Mist. Wow. Horrible product names. Someone's in for a pink slip this afternoon. Oh what? You think I don't have staff? You think a blog reaches this sort of stature as a one-woman show? Pff. Hardly. Hang on - Kevin! Where's my pickle bath?! You KNOW I can't blog if I don't soak for at least 45 minutes in a pickle bath! And while you're at it come braid my hair into those Princess Leia side buns I like and pay my Skype bill. What? He's an intern. Got him right off the internet. In this economic climate you can get people to do just about anything by promising them job security and benefits. Is it my fault if he assumes "benefits" mean extended medical and dental? I think the "benefit" of learning from me is worth double that. I'm sure he'll think so too. Maybe not after that root canal surgery he's planning to bill to his "insurance" lands him in financial ruin but there again, life lesson: never assume anything. And I was the one to teach it to him. See? Be-ne-fit. (sidenote: Sarah B.Mus.ed is always taking resumes.)

Back to the topic of mice and men. Oh wait, that was last night's Books-I-Pretend-I've-Read-to-Make-Myself-Seem-Smarter-Than-Someone-Who-Frequents-TheSuperficial.com Book Club meeting notes. I meant mice and ants, back to the topic of mice and ants.

This mouse is a real piece of work too. Total snot-wad. I have put down not one, not two, but three traps with juicy sultana raisins coated in organic Valentia peanut butter and not a single nibble (or subsequent neck snap). No please, continue to eat the particle board under my kitchen sink. I can see how that would be much more appetizing. You know, mice in general don't offend me but this one has made it personal. He's got me running around pounding on the walls like a crazed mental patient at 3:00 a.m. from his systematic scratching. And he's not just relying on good old fashion mousey-sense to drive me insane. No, I'm convinced this mouse has gone high-tech; an infrared camera at the very least. I can just picture him sitting there at Command Central with his teeny-tiny mouse feet up on his teeny-tiny mouse desk watching the screen zoom in on my face. When I'm juuuuust about asleep, that's when he makes his move. He starts quiet at first to make me wonder if I'd even heard him in the first place. I jerk my head off the pillow, hold my breath and wait to see if I hear it again or if it was just a figment of my imagination. When I'm convinced it was all in my mind, I let my eyes close, head drop back down on my pillow and begin drifting off into a peacefu-SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH. And then silence. Only to be filled with SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH once again until my silent breath-holding turns into a thunderous "I hear you, you little fucker!!" Oh yes, we play this little game of back and forth for quite sometime until finally he forgoes the coyness and steps fully into his destiny of Carnegie Hall Wall Scratcher Virtuoso and really picks up the tempo. "And now ladies and gentleman, the performer you've all been waiting for, its Melachi the Mouse soloing on Wood Paneling!" 'With a scratch scratch here, and a scratch scratch there. Here a scratch, there a scratch, everywhere a scratch scratch. Old Macnabber had a mouse. E-I-E-I-O....'

And of course his name is Melachi. How pretentious. I bet it means "rodent with asshole complex." Oh wait, Google says that it's Hebrew and means "messenger from God." Wow, God is trying to contact me through my uninsulated walls? Maybe tonight I should listen to see if I can decipher some divine meaning in those scratches. Or maybe God just sent a mouse to live in my wall. And keep me up. All night. Every night. Well shit, that can't be good. Hey God (he also reads my blog), is this about that time in 2nd grade when I smeared cheese all over the inside of Shannon Reimer's desk during recess? Because that bitch had it coming. (She really did).

Seriously God, its time to let old grievances go and call off your mouse. While you're at it, take the ants with you as well. They're starting to overrun my desk and compu-sdifwuha lairufg aldiuclae liua yscgaliywgef AHHHHHHHH HELP ME-lsiduhgsl siughsli NOOOO NOT THE EYESuehlsieu aliuali faeyliyagr fjo;ij sdofh sdo aodoD7#& weooha )0rg['3i'j.............................

Greetings reader of Tall Human Blog. We are Ant People. Tall Human go on journey. We mean Tall Human no harm. Just many ant experiments. Hope Tall Human like taste of Borax.....NHE NHE NHE *evil ant laughter*

Tempest In A Teapot......being poured by robots.

Due to the underwhelming response to my last post (except for the naked weirdo who showed up in my front yard on his bike. After asking him a few questions it became clear that he did not in fact follow my blog and certainly wasn't there for any audition. Which would explain his heavy breathing and propensity for fondling his own genitals throughout the entire conversation.....)

...where was I? Oh right, no one reads my blog. Which is why I have decided to take a more journalistic approach this week. Lure the public in first with something credible and then when they come crawling back, THAT'S when you hit them with a riveting Where-Did-Lindsay-Lohan's-Boobs-Go? Exposé. So with the Olympics being covered by every major news station and my lack of knowledge on the the fiscal plight of North America, I thought it best to write about an undeniably factual event.

Cue:

No, no, no, keep reading!! I swear this article isn't some sensationalized piece of literary fluff designed to increase ratings. You know I would never do that to my loyal followers.

(Mom).

Island-Hopping Robot Monsters

What started as a bizarre phenomenon confined to a small chain of islands in the South Pacific has now reached epidemic proportions taking over the entire Southern Hemisphere. Droves of island-hopping robot monsters have declared war on the human species, more specifically: humans of the "on vacation" variety. First accounts by survivors describe incidents where loved ones’ heads had been forcefully removed, replaced with the robot monster's own and then photographed by accompanying robot monsters while morbidly posing in tourist-like scenarios (see totally un-photoshopped picture below).
Scientists are speculating that the robot monsters initial modus operandi was "prolonged psychological terror with disturbingly playful undercurrents;" that they were engaging in a drawn-out cat-and-mouse game involving elaborate planning, inconspicuous stalking and brilliantly executed covert attacks. However, those tactics have rapidly degenerated into violent chaos as the scene has since given way to one that can only be described as a frenzy of gore, a hedonistic buffet. Abandoning all former strategies of stealth, these robot monsters are now brazenly tearing limbs off sunbathing vacationers in order to beat other sunbathing vacationers and indiscriminately zapping elderly sightseers with laser beams leaving nothing but smoking piles of ash scattered with metal pins from hip replacements past.

The North American Defense Against Notoriously Unruly Technology (NADANUT as its referred to by geeks around the world) has issued a travel advisory to those planning trips to tropical destinations. They are asking that people consider Arctic cruises as an alternative vacation option until further notice. The US Government has since deployed 300,000 impressionable young soldiers to seize control over what looks to be an unstoppable force of metal and wires. In a controversial move by the US President, the Geneva Convention has been temporarily nullified and the US Secretary of Defense is quoted as saying "any prisoner-of-war will be denied access to battery chargers, hydraulic fluid and single board computer replacement components." Outraged critics of the U.S. Department of Defense-led tyranny have banded together en masse to put forth an appeal to the Supreme Court.

Meanwhile, the Canadian Armed Forces has issued this official statement: "We regret to inform the United Nations that although we would like to help in the effort to bring peace between man and bot, we feel that any interference could be construed as disregard for the personal liberties and right to self-determination of robot monsters as outlined in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. It is this country's policy to maintain a "wait-and-see" stance on any global altercation where weaponry beyond bayonets or buckets of rocks are used to address burgeoning disagreements. We have however drafted a strongly worded letter that is currently being signed by our reigning Monarch, Her Majesty, the Queen.* We feel the content of this emphatic yet objective edict best represents the Canadian sentiment of disapproval towards the inappropriate display of un-neighborliness and insensitivity these robot monsters have thus far inflicted upon the human race. We predict this letter will be ready to send within the year, subject to passing through democratic review at all three levels of government and of course a federal referendum. We would like to publicly extend our best wishes to both robot monster and human and hope that in the process of arbitrating this 'miscommunication', life-long friendship will be the final outcome."

*Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom, Canada and Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith.†

† Elizabeth Deux, par la grâce de Dieu Reine du Royaume-Uni, du Canada et de ses autres royaumes et territoires, Chef du Commonwealth, Défenseur de la Foi.

There you have it folks, news coverage gold. I see it as my duty to both educate and enlighten the masses with posts such as this one, so cutting edge that it will no doubt end up in a Bill Moyers documentary. Where will YOU be when I receive the Pulitzer for my reporting of the War on Robot Terror? That is the question you'll all be asking one day. Just like the Kennedy Assassination. Not to say I'm going to get shot in a convertible. Or maybe I will. Roofless cars are splendid and I say a lot of obnoxious things (or so my low readership would suggest). But assassination-worthy? A bit extreme, even for Lee Harvey Oswald.....

.....BAHAHAHA! Yeah, like we don't know the CIA was responsible for that one. Just like that fictitious moon landing. We all saw the reflection of lies in Buzz Aldrin's visor. WE ALL SAW IT. Ooh! My subscription to Flat Earth Society Monthly just arrived. Gotta go.

Finding The Nub

So it turns out that successful blogs are directly related to the amount of effort you put into them (fine print I neglected to read when I signed up with Blogger.com). I am astounded by how often people update their blogs. And over the most inane shit too. They sneeze and its all "type-ah, type-ah, type-ah." I mean if you read MY blog, you’ll see how I stand out from all the rest. I cover serious and relevant topics that make a difference to people’s lives. How many unsuspecting folk did I prevent from wasting two hours by going to see “The Core” with my extensive movie review? That’s philanthropy in its purest form. FACT.

So what about those committed bloggers, ‘eh? They sure do have a lot to say. Is it possible that I have fewer obnoxious opinions than I previously thought? Or perhaps it’s that I am exactly as lazy as I always knew. Whatever the case, its time to post something so people stop sending me emails bugging me to update my blog.

That was a lie. No one does that. Just trying to create the illusion of interest where there is none.

I wonder if I downloaded those sexy animated ladies who gyrate along the sides of the computer screen and wantonly push their pixelated boobs into your face, if my site would get more hits that way? Maybe not the demographic I had originally envisioned but times are tough people, recession and all. Butter rations/slutty online advertising banners. You do what you have to....

Maybe the problem is that there is no purpose to this blog. I just saw that Julia Child movie about the unhappy lady who cooks all the time and then blogs about her unhappiness until someone offers her a book deal and then she becomes happy again (Professional Movie Synopsis Writer - possible future career??)

Fair enough. So what I need is a good old-fashioned conflict. Yes, that’s it. A conflicty conflict rife with conflictions of the most conflicted type, so that people will tune in every week to follow my progress as I navigate through the perilous waters of conflicted..ness...ism..

Soooooo.....any ideas for possible conflicts I could try to right in my life through blogging?

Lets make a list of things that I want to change and go from there.

1.) paying taxes
2.) living with squirrels/rats/possibly a family of possums in my wall
3.) having the flexibility of a 70-year-old man
4.) the lack of fibre in chocolate (more of a national problem. This affects us all people….)

Wow. That’s a boring list. And I bet I could sort out every one of these issues in under 30 seconds. Time me!

1.) I pay very few taxes in the grand scheme of things and often get most of them back at the end of the year due to the 'sympathy clause' in the Canadian Revenue Agency for those "less inclined to be a cog in the machine" (watch out! if you like your job and use any amount of creativity in doing it, you might be one of these insurgents...) The CRA can't fathom how earning less to do what you love might actually be personal CHOICE as opposed to some sort of failure to achieve the 'luxury' of spending 8 mind-numbing hours a day under fluorescent lighting and the oppressive thumb of North America's fucked-up construct of an economy......whatever.

2.) The vermin in my wall might just need a little convincing with a blow torch and some persistence on my part (Persistence^® being the name of the new line of clean burning eco-fuel I found online...).

3.) I joined a yoga studio at the beginning of January with intense determination. A little morale-crushing to get the mat next to the 70-year-old mans who folds himself in half, and then in quarter and then for good measure (because the elderly are show offs) once more into eighths. So if I could get half the flexibility of this particular 70-year-old man I will be content. Also, watch your step Harold. I would hate to see you "accidentally" slip on that icy pavement out back....

4.) I'm thinking that the chocolate just needs to be eaten simultaneously with a box of bran or something. A cumbersome but workable solution.

Ok. That was easy. A little TOO easy. Clearly we need a bigger conflict. Some sort of civil liberty violation. Maybe not directed right at ME because, well, that would suck, but perhaps at someone I know (and like enough to get upset over but not so much that I get the crappy karma of wishing ill will on my friends). That way I can rant and rave about the "system" and "the hand of the man" keeping the little guy down. There is no better ranting than the one directed at The Man. Yes, it does turn us all into ignorant and irresponsible citizens but DAMN it feels good. Kinda like when your brain knows that the large-sized DQ Blizzard following an intense Mexican feast is:

A.) the definition of "bad idea"

and

B.) going to put you out of commission for at least 36 hours

.....but somehow you find your hand autonomously sliding $5.55 across the counter to the eagerly waiting adolescent server anyways.....

Mmmmmm. Blizzard.

Focus Sarah!

Back to the topic of civil rights being trampled, anyone interested in getting arrested for the sake of this blog? Nothing terribly illegal. Just illegal enough, you know, to get picked up by the cops for a night, but then let go the very next day (hey, I'll even buy you breakfast....have you ever experienced a half gallon of creamy smooth soft serve blended with your favorite candy, cookies, or fruit at 7:00am?? You are in for a treat my friend. And by treat I mean bloating, constipation and intense nausea.)

Dammit! Oh Delicious Frozen Delight, your seductive powers hold me in a constant state of yearning.....

Back to the topic of one of you getting arrested. Remember the concept is illegal but not TOO illegal.

Example: Smoking a joint while riding a bike naked.

Through a corporate ground breaking ceremony.

While local news cameras roll.

Better yet, CBC National News cameras.

Live feed.

And maybe you shout something about "capitalist pigs" just as you throw a pie at someones face.

Preferably the CEO.

And then *ding* your little bike bell to bring levity to the situation.

This part is C-R-U-C-I-A-L. The idea here is to downgrade any possible charges of "assault" to "lighthearted silliness that offers everyone the opportunity to look deep inside themselves and realize that when we take life so seriously we miss out on experiencing true joy....and also people end up going to jail on assault charges for throwing pies at other people's faces."

Yeah. That little *ding* really is the linchpin of the plan. DO NOT FORGET THE DING.

Feel free to paint whatever slogans you wish on your naked body. I am open-minded. Disdain for the Olympics, the clubbing of baby seals and "Hey Stop Melting The Polar Ice Caps By Driving Around In Your Penis-Enhancing Hummer H2, You Giant Douche-Bag!" seem to be popular choices these days but please don't limit yourself. I can think of thousands of things to angrily rant about that don't involve any of the usual suspects (like how our country has let the inflation rate of Blizzards go up faster than wage increases. Bastards.)

My god, this plan is brilliant! You see, I am an IDEAS person. I keep trying to explain this to people: "I am a thinker. You should be the doer. Of the things I think. Its just so simple, I really don't get where the misunderstanding (on your part) seems to keep happening...."

All volunteers please leave your name and contact info in the comments section. I'll of course be holding auditions to evaluate bike handling, target aiming and obscenity screaming skills. Be prepared to do this all while naked (hey, would you expect an actor to show up to the dress rehearsal NOT in costume? Didn't think so. This isn't amateur hour people. A BLOG's fate depends on your professionalism)

Looking forward to the cascade of applicants sure to pour in any minute now....



*Since authenticity is key in blogging, I rushed out after writing this and got me one of these (Blizzard AND stomach ache) to be able to post this very real photograph. Unfortunately the whole experience was a serious bummer. Not only did I get stiffed in the "stuff" department (Reeces Peanut Butter Cups is this gal's poison) but they wouldn't accept my $5 bill because it looked "fake." Well screw you DQ on Denman Street! I'll just take my phony money and diabetic coma elsewhere. PS assholes: $3.99 ($4.19 with tax!!) is NOT a reasonable amount to charge for a Small Blizzard and jacking the "extra stuff" price up to 79¢ is disgusting. World. Hell. Handbasket.

Hold yer horses

In the slow process of getting off my ass to write something.

Maybe your New Years resolution should have been patience.

And mine, motivation.