Laundry Slut

I was loading up the car with the laundry yesterday afternoon when I caught someone's eye. I felt someone looking at me so I looked around. When I looked up I could see this shirtless, built, bald queen with a goatee watching me.

He made no effort to hide the fact he was cruising. He stopped on the corner, shifted his weight to one foot and groped his front pockets in search of a cigarette. I was a bit freaked out but at the same time I found the attention a bit arousing.

He was going to do his laundry too. After I got in the car he continued on his way down a side street pulling his little buggy behind him. Unfortunately, he was going to a different Laundromat. I could tell by the direction he was heading. I briefly considered going to his Laundromat and drove down the street after him.

Did I mention he was cruising? His sultry walk up the street was enough to give him away. But in case I hadn't caught on, he kept looking over his shoulder to see if I was following him.

I had visions of us flirting while our whites tumbled dry. Followed by me giving him a ride home, pulling his shorts down and fucking him hard against a wall before his waistband fell to his ankles. He had one of those asses that makes me think dirty things like that.

But I decided not to follow him after all. I went to my own boring, sexless Laundromat and listened to children scream while I thought of what could have been.

Hooters

While I was typing my last entry, I looked out my window just in time to see one of my neighbours flash her tits at her husband. I can only assume she's ovulating and forgot to close the blinds in the heat of the moment.

She walked around, bare tits, until her husband obediently got up and followed her to another room carrying a bottle of beer. He must be pretty horny because she pulled him away from a football game.

Watering the plants

D and I have an agreement. That being I will not touch the plants. I don't know why but for some reason he wants that responsibility all to himself. He's very particular and quick to point out flaws in my organizational skills and general housekeeping. As I see it, if he knows I don't water the plants, he has one less fault to find. This is something I welcome.

I was cleaning the apartment last weekend while he was at work and when he got home I mentioned how dry some of the plants seemed. He said he "forgot" to water them once. To make up for it he rushed around and watered all the plants. He also took down a hanging plant from our front room an took it to the sink for a good soaking.

While I had been cleaning, I had dusted off the top of the fridge and grouped some things together. There were a couple of plastic bottles up there that D uses to mix plant food and water. One of the bottles is an old plastic vinegar bottle. For some reason, there was a new bottle of vinegar up there too and guess which one D watered the plant with.

I could hear him yelling asking why I put the bottle there. I told him that I didn't put it up there but only moved it to dust. I thought it was funny but I felt bad for the poor plant. He doused it with water to rinse the awful smell out. That was a week ago and the poor thing seems to be doing OK. I think it will make it.

Not so fast food

I was too lazy and busy to make myself dinner last night so I stopped at Harvey's on the way home. I go there because I like their veggie burgers. Last night I decided to try a salmon burger too.

I ordered and had to wait five minutes at least before I moved ahead a car length. They were so slow. Then it took another couple of minutes for the car in front of me to get served. When I finally pulled up, the girl at the window promptly took my money before telling me that "The salmon takes a long time to cook. Would you mind pulling ahead and I'll bring it out to you when it's done?"

By that time I paid and I had little choice. So I pulled ahead and it took about seven or eight minutes for this girl to finally bring my food out. "Sorry" she said as she passed me the bag. I asked why the salmon took so long to cook. "Oh, yah, it takes like four minutes to cook the salmon" she told me.

I couldn't resist pointing out the obvious. First I told her I had place my order fifteen minutes ago and wondered why it took so long to start cooking it. Second, I told her I know how to cook and everyone knows that fish cooks faster than anything else. She looked a bit stunned. Then I told her that in the future, if she is going to lie, she should make it a good one.

I felt a bit bad for her because she said sorry again and gave me two coupons for free sirloin burgers. She was nice enough. Just a bit naive. I didn't even bother to tell her I almost never eat red meat.

And more fun neighbours

If I had children, I would not let them go outside to play. Not on my street. Charles Manson and the Cigarette Stalker are strange enough to worry any parent. But the cast of characters doesn't stop there.

Over the summer, a fat woman had a habit of falling flat on her face on the pavement near my place. Each time she was within one hundred feet of my window. Four times! And those were the times I was home to see it. I don't stare out my window waiting for misfortune to strike. But I do notice when emergency vehicles come up the street with their sirens blaring.

Each time she fell an ambulance came for her. I thought she was in her forties and could see that her fat could cause heart problems. I overheard she was actually twenty two or something. I felt bad for her. I called the ambulance once myself and went to check on her. I got the impression she maybe had Down's Syndrome. I could never say for sure though because her face was always planted in the concrete.

She would scream whenever the attendants would touch her. I learned that they all knew her by name and I began to think that maybe she liked the attention but was too slow to realize how obvious it all must look.

I wanted it to happen once more. I was going to take a picture of her and put it up here. It's tacky I know but I wanted to share it with everyone. But I haven't seen her in a few weeks. I hope she's OK.

There is also a man who curses and barks as he walks down the street. Flatlinegirl and I live just a few blocks from each other and I know she has seen him too. I don't think it's Tourette's syndrome. I think he's schizophrenic and I don't think he's taking his prescription. He scares me.

Cigarette Stalker: Part II

Once someone catches your interest it's hard to stop noticing them. And for some reason, the cigarette Stalker continues to make too many appearances on his front step.

I was walking home from work about a week ago and I noticed him on his front step as usual. At his side was a cardboard box full of handmade stuffed animals. They were the two dimensional kind with a single seam around the outside edge. The kind a twelve year old (or a barmy aunt) could make.

They were all made with fabric that had a small, delicate pattern. And the colours were soft and soothing. Almost the colours you would expect to see in the lounge of a palliative care ward. You know, the kind of colour that is supposed to induce calm even though you are in the presence of imminent death.

I could only guess what charity work or other sick plans led him to make or collect his little friends. The thought disturbed me.

Is no one normal?

You'd think that having the Cigarette Stalker living near by would be enough to satisfy the weird quotient for my neighbourhood. But no. A Charles Manson clone has taken a unit in the same building across the street and he promises to be more menacing than the Stalker. I'm not sure if it's the rats-nest hair, the filthy beard or the tattooed skinny bod. But something about this guy is just creepy enough to make one fear for one's safety.

It's less his appearance that worries me as much as his actions. I've watched him traffic drugs through his living room (he leaves the blinds open). I've seen him fighting with women on the street. One of whom ran into his apartment and locked herself in the bathroom (I could have told her that wasn't a wise place to take shelter). And like the Cigarette Stalker himself, he just sits on the front steps and smokes.

A couple of weeks ago I saw him walking down the street towards his building. He was drunk as he often is and he was staggering. He decided to adjust his manhood and so he reached down and grabbed the crotch of his shorts and gave himself a big yank. He pulled so hard he went flying into a parked car. Then he picked himself up yelling like someone else had just pushed him down.

Some of you might be thinking that he must have an awfully large package to have to pull so hard on it. But no. I saw him staggering around just a week before in his underwear and I can tell you there's not much there. Not so much as a cocktail wiener to put a dent in the front of his silk boxers. Not the tiniest little bounce.

Maybe he's an ugly woman.

Bring a List

I should know better than to shop without a list. There's extra money in my account and I know I get paid Thursday. It's a recipe for waste. I only wanted something for dinner. I got that, and snacks, and dessert, and a strange bar of hand-made soap with kelp and bentonite.

Having the stomach troubles I do, I'm a sucker for anything that looks unprocessed, organic or otherwise healthy. I swear they could have put a bottle of whole wheat shampoo on the shelves and I would have bought it tonight.

I've noticed that it's getting easier to find healthy sounding foods in the larger grocery stores. What's sad is that the more interesting products are convenience foods and are accordingly overprocessed. It's not just the fat, sugar, etc that makes stuff bad for you. It's the preservatives and additives used to extend shelf life, add colour and modify texture.

It's hard to avoid all that crap unless you're willing to eat raw tofu on a daily basis. I like tofu, but not enough to make it a staple.

The Cigarette Stalker

There's a frightening man who lives across the street from me. I see him too much. He's always either sitting on his front step smoking or he's wandering around the block smoking. I've seen him rummaging through the garbage. Sometimes his stale cigarette smoke wafts into my apartment as he walks below my window. I think he needs a TV.

My hairy bi-cub friend who lives up the street from me has nicknamed him the cigarette stalker. Apparently the stalker has walked up to him and his friends on the street and accosted them for cigarettes. When he doesn't score anything that way he picks up butts off the ground. I guess that's what he's been doing when I see him walking around the block again and again.

It's reassuring to know I'm not the only one who notices this guys eccentric behavior.

I don't remember moving on

I'm not much of a TV watcher. I was surprised to learn today when I turned the TV on that I had missed the third year anniversary of 9/11. And I don't even feel bad about it.

Not to say it wasn't bad. For those it affected personally it can never be forgotten. For the rest of us it was a day unlike any other. But somehow I thought the day might mean more to more people. No one I know mentioned it. They had no reason to.

We all know what happened. Yet what we're left with is a symbol that grows more meaningless every time it's memory is exploited to mold public opinion. I'm more afraid of a government and media that will deliberately distort the facts to achieve it's goals than anything else at the moment.

Words are not enough

I'm a bit tired of typing these days. It's all I do at work and I'm not enjoying it at the moment. I'd put up some pictures but despite the fact I'm smarter than the average bear, I haven't got a clue how to do it. I think I'll wait until something wonderful, or hot happens this weekend before I sit down and type.

What goes up....

After takeing codeine for a couple of days I decided I'd had enough and went without pain killers today. The pain in my mouth was tolerable (barely) but I got the inevitable headache I get after I stop taking codeine. I think I've bottomed out though and tomorrow will be easier to take.

While I was online last night, Pedro signed in. I hadn't chatted with him for a couple of months it seems. He's such a cutie. Really handsome guy with a sexy chest hair thing happening. He likes to leave the top buttons of his shirt undone to turn the ladies on. It works on me too.

I should stop before I get too exited.

Anyhow, we're planning to hook up Sunday. I'm looking forward to seeing him (and possibly ripping his shirt off)

There I go again.

It's a chilly and rainy night here. And I feel a bit feverish. I'm looking forward to a nice hot shower and going to bed early. I've wanted that all day. Some evenings are just nice to stay in and this is one of them. I guess that's why I'm posting a bit early tonight. Once I settle down and get comfortable I may not make it back to the computer.

Lost and found

Somone has left a fabulous pair of rose coloured sun glasses in my car.

Mayhem on the Mway or How to drive like you have a small penis

The trip home from work today wouldn't have been complete without the usual assortment of stupid drivers. The ones I find most interesting are the ones take huge risks just to advance one car length. But they don't see it that way. They are too involved in their own plight to care.

This one guy today in a white truck was changing lanes madly and riding up the ass of anyone who didn't clear a path for him. He passed me a few times. Not just once, but several times. I mention this because I want to point out that no matter what gains he made in one lane, he'd loose as soon as the law of averages took hold and his chosen lane would slow to a crawl.

I watched him curse and wave his hands. I watched him change lanes abruptly in between cars leaving only a foot or two in front and behind him. In his world, his driving was skillful and evidence of his right to be the first one home.

Just what did this asshole think? Even in my car I could see the traffic was extremely heavy and slow for miles and miles ahead. Surely up in the cab of his truck he could see the same thing. Did he think that if he could just get by the next person the roads would suddenly clear and he'd be able to open 'er up? The idiot was just in a hurry to cut one person off so he could rush into his next obstacle.

At one point, I was changing lanes myself (only to make room for merging traffic) and this fuckwad in the white truck decided to do one of his jerky lane changes (sans shoulder check) and almost hit me. And instead of going back into his lane he decides to straddle the lane and try to force me back into mine. At least I had a signal on and I started my lane change long before him. So I leaned on the horn until he gave up. As I passed him (for like, the 4th time) I flipped him one and mouthed "Fucking Asshole."

I do look mean when I'm mad and I felt kinda butch doing it. It felt good. I said it nice and slow so I knew he'd be able to tell what I was saying. F-u-c-k-i-n-g A-s-s-h-o-l-e. Little did he know he'd been scorned by a homo.

I don't know if it was me or the fact he scared himself when he realized someone was in his blindspot (most likely the latter). But I watched him in my rearview mirror for the next few minutes until I had to exit and he didn't make one more lane change.

To cope with my soaring adrenaline I had to take a break. So off I went to Starbucks for a Venti Tazo Chai tea latte with soy to unwind. Soy milk is about all my stomach will handle today and the warm beverage soothed my nerves.

Pickles and beer

I went out with T today. We just walked to the mall and had some fun looking at the products in the Asian Mart. We couldn't decide whether to buy the "Sack of Sack" or the "Family Appliance" so we settled for some dried peas with wasabi and chilled black tea.

I decided to treat myself to a set of Betty Page fridge magnets from Metro. I love them. My fridge is now replete with the most provocative adornments. I wonder if I can get a Baking Soda Caddy in leopard print to match.

Afterward we went to Hess Village and settled in for an afternoon of people watching. The crowd was not as interesting as I would have liked. There was a wedding party that made a small scene while walking down the street. They were having the wedding filmed and the photographers did their best to keep along side of them to capture the special moment on film. Along the way, one of the groomsmen horked a lugi spit on the sidewalk. I think he forgot he was on film. I'm sure the newlyweds will be thrilled to see the footage.

We saw deep fried pickles on the menu and decided to give them a try. They were ok. Just about how you would expect a hot pickle to taste. They were breaded and came with "tadziki." Or at least that's what they called it. I've never had tadziki that tasted like sour cream and dill before.

Anyway, lunch did not agree with me. My stomach is seriously hurting from the pickles. I don't think T is doing much better. My advice: Do not have beer and deep fried pickles for a meal. Ever.

Steep Tea

A few weeks ago I noticed a sign in Tim Horton's that announced Tim's would soon be serving "Steeped Tea." Apparently it was being done in an effort to provided us with the finest tea experience possible in a paper cup. My curiosity was piqued and I looked forward to an opportunity to try Tim's finest.

I had all but forgotten about the sign one day when I ordered a large tea. I was expecting to pay $1.05 as usual. I was surprised when the server asked me for $1.29. "I didn't order coffee" I told her. That's when she told me the price of a large "Steeped Tea" was $1.29. Apparently, perfection comes at a "steep" price.

Quoting from the Tim Horton's website, they are "proud to introduce a new way of making tea using a time honored (sic) tradition - loose tea leaves." That confuses me. If loose tea leaves are a time honoured tradition, then why do they claim they have introduced a new way of making tea? And why can't I taste a difference?

It must have been expensive to have a third generation tea master design the ideal machine for making perfectly steeped tea, cup after cup. The price hike must have been necessary to cover their extensive investments in R+D.

I had switched from coffee to tea after their last price hike on coffee. $1.35 was way too much to spend on something that tasted that bad. I think if I want caffeine from now on I'll just make my own tea during my breaks. With loose tea leaves of course.

Simple needs

I'd be completely happy if I could have just four things; food, beer, sex and money. I realized at one point today that the vast majority of my time is spent in pursuit of one or more of those four things. I'm extremely happy when I have all four at once.