Hanging with my bitches.

Susan: You're a jizzball Barb.
Barb: Your mother.
Toni: AHAHAHAHAAHAH. Jizzball!

Academia, a kind of nut.

I attended 100% of my classes today. Yeah, I only had one class. So? I love my Topics in Medieval history class. I've always thought that I was all about the modern history, who wants to read primary documents with weird words in it? But this class has made me rethink that. The material is genuinely interesting and the articles we have to read are well written and not at all dry. AND as I've told Jo about ten thousand million billion times, I love my professor for this class.

I can't remember the last time I felt this engaged in an academic sense. It was probably back in first year when this whole university thing was new and everything I learned was like a door to a bunch of things I'd never even considered. Anthropology really made me feel that. Incidentally, I had Anth. with Subu. I kind of laugh when I think back on it, because we knew each other, obviously, but it's absolutely nothing compared to the level of gross-togetherness-incestuous(?)-giggly-groinal love relationship that we've cultivated since we all moved in together.

I don't know when or why I stopped feeling engaged by school, whether it was my own apathy or if the quality of instruction or whatever. I'm just glad that the feeling is back for my final semester.

Final. Semester. GAH. I don't really want to spend another year here but in another way I feel like I've just gotten good at this university thing.

Picture time!

This is one of my favourite pictures that I've ever randomly come across on the internet. Probably shamelessly stolen from the BBC, it's a cemetary in Singapore. The graves would be visually interesting themselves, but the fact person walking through with the white umbrella? Scrumtralescent.

Weekend at Grannie's.

Preface: I adore my grandparents. They love me like no one else.

I don't know if everyone's grandparents are as weird as mine. They are legally insane. Only, you know, not really. If nature and/or nurture have anything to say about it, Future-Toni is screwed. Mentally.

Case A: My grandparents have taken it upon themselves to feed the local squirrel population. To that end one of them puts nuts outside everyday. Unfortunately this has created a pigeon problem, as the birds like the nuts as well. Grandparental solution: A squirt bottle that sits near the sliding glass door that they spray at the pigeons if rattling the blinds doesn't scare them off.

Case B: My grandpa formed a club with his friends called The Olde Farts Club, they have a President even though (as far as I can discern) the only thing they do is go out once a week and drink/bowl. My grandma refers, good-naturedly, to the Club as "Your Grandfather and his gay friends."

Case C:
Grandfather to Granddaughter: Spaghetti sauce is on sale, take these 10 million cans.
Granddaughter: Thanks Grandpa, but I don't need that many.
Grandfather: But it was only 63 cents!

A week from now, when I'm out of money, I'll be drinking spaghetti sauce, I can just feel it.

Case D: Grandmother to Granddaughter: So you'll be done school soon (pointed look).
REPEAT A THOUSAND TIMES

Case E: The daily game of Gin. Grandparents are creatures of habits and must play five games of Gin everyday. Grandfather is the superior Gin player and delights in egging grandmother on, grandmother is easily angered. When grandpa wins, she can and WILL shout at him. A lot. Her favourite, I've discerned with my tender ears, is horseball. Ex.: "Is that Gin you Horseball?!"

Dame Edna is a superhero.

Rambling ramblings...par for the course.

I'm awake past 4 a.m. again. I didn't REALLY try to sleep this time though. I can't stop reading this book from a series that la Sukent gave to me on disc.

Yes Jo, it's set in space.

Do you ever wish that there was a voice in your head that would tell you that you were being a moron? One that would actually have some effect, that is. I have one, but it's like my dad's voice or something. I love my dad, but I stopped listening to him when I was about 10.

Good things about today:

Spent a good part of the night with my best boy Barb who does, indeed "get me." He brings me computer games and explains why my iTunes random setting isn't actually random and he used one of my favourite word which is "counterintuitive."

I think Lindz had about 15 shots of espresso before she came home from work. It was like she'd taken cocaine. She was as cute as a Persian kitten.

Chocolate truly is some sort of miracle cure for uterus pain...for about 5 minutes. Then there is regret. But those five minutes are sooooooo sweet.

Back to the book. If I finish it tonight (this morning) that would be kind of cool.

Jo on religion.

Jo: Jesus' blood is made of wine...that means he's drunk all the time.

Love.

Note to self

Do not listen to Mad World by Gary Jules when you are hormonal/incapcitated with bloat and pain.

Or ever.

Songs to slowly die by indeed.

David Hasselhoff

I often wondered...okay, not often. Amendment: Occasionally, I've wondered if any celebrity like David Hasselhoff, who by rights should have been shuffled off into obscurity long ago but continues to be a source of amusement to the multitudes, can possibly take themselves seriously.

I've uncovered evidence that he cannot and, indeed, does not.

David Hasselhoff is Hooked on a Feeling.

To sleep perchance to dream.

One good thing about the nap: I had a dream, largely due to the fact that I was reading a blog by a women who lives in Paris and refers to her ex-partner and child as Mr. Frog and Tadpole respectively, that I was in Paris walking down the street with a red umbrella and red rain boots. There were shiny green and blue frogs everywhere. Me and my fellow Parisian pedestrians thought nothing of it.

While I didn't fall in love with Paris like I did London, I still harbour secret dreams of having a tiny apartment there and walking around the ancient streets on rainy days with a jaunty umbrella. But no beret, I'm not into hats.

Ennui.

I just woke up from a nap. I used to LOVE naps. Naps were (was?) my 6th class all through first year. 8:30 class? That's fine, go to it, get some breakfast on the way home and nap. That was my routine first year, especially first semester (when I went to my classes, natch).

I really don't take many naps anymore and I can't really figure out why. It's not because I'm less lazy or because I need less sleep or because I'm any more mature (although I would argue that I am).

But I took one tonight. I've wanted to vary my routine (and my increasingly dangerous inclination to skip class and stay home ALL THE TIME) in a way that was fairly cheap (ie. not bar hopping 3 times a week).

Wow. Lots of parantheses so far.

Anyway, to this end I went out with my best boy Barb for breakfast. Nothing particularly special, just crepes at Mountain Hall. Barb, unlike this Mole, keeps the hours of a human, so he scheduled our breakfast thing for 9:30 in the morning. Fine, I said to myself. I'll do it.

And I did. Unfortunately by the time 4 o' clock hit, largely because I'd gotten up drastically earlier but hadn't gone to sleep any earlier, I was dead tired. I nearly fell asleep on the bus downtown which would've been really embarassing as a) I snore a lot when I'm stuffed up, as I am now and b) I drool a lot when I'm stuffed up, as I am now. That's right, I'm a snorer and a drooler, come and get it sexy boys.

Headachey and tired I crawled into my bed and fell asleep and it was the least satisfying nap I think I've ever had. A good nap includes:
-falling asleep easily
-that nice, warm cocoon feeling
-waking up non-groggily

I did not fall asleep easily and I woke up groggy. 1/3 is not good. I've learned my lesson, no naps after 4 p.m. No naps for the wicked.

Adventures Abroad. Because I can.

So our trip was a billion years ago. So I haven't gotten over it. Want to fight about it?

Versailles. I paid 40 Euro cents to pee there. I still have the receipt.
I'm the Queen of Warwick Castle. You can tell because of my shiny pants.
Jo Frolics, internationally. Psst, she's the one in the white coat, frolicking.
Yes, Wales was that beautiful. But we're actually walking in a bunch of sheep crap in this picture. Barefoot. Glamour!

Pretty.

Lenny Kravitz is beautiful, even with the dreds.

I love Coldplay. I never claimed to be awesomely original and into obscure bands so stop judging me. They express my inner angst/happy emotions just fine. Love the line from Shiver: "'Cause it's you I see but you don't see me." Also, I'm fake in love with Chris Martin. I know he's scrawny and all British and stuff, but apparently, that's what I like.

Found these screen captures on the website of the guy who directed these videos. Don't ask me how I stumbled upon it, that happened like, yesterday.

I have over 600 pictures saved to my computer. Does that gross you out? I should post more. That is all.

Because they asked so nicely!

James and Taylor= hilarious/awesome. A dangerous combination. Read their blog. Or Major Barb will hunt you down.

For Jowie.

Engorge:

1. To devour greedily.
2. To gorge; glut.
3. To fill to excess, as with blood or other fluid.

I think your usage was correct. So was mine, just filthier.

I sound like Barry White.

Sunday evening full of giggles. The various links in the past couple of entries and especially Jo's sci-fi blog put me in a good mood. Another source of my goodwill towards men? Alicia's screename: Toni, you're like the chocolate in the martini I can't afford. Love! I always think that if I'm not around a particular person, they're probably not thinking about me, so it's nice to have confirmation that someone, somewhere is thinking about you. What a ball of cheese I am.

I found myself in such a good mood, despite the fact that my cold (which we'll blame on Barb) has me sounding like a certain crooner of baby-making music. I was in such a good mood that I felt good about neglecting my homework.

Actually, I don't need to be in a good mood to neglect homework. I will neglect the crap out of it come rain or shine, smile or frown, Barb or no Barb.

I don't remember being this procrastinate-ful during first and second year but I think that's just because my memory of the period is foggy.

Resolution: I refuse to feel crappy about this. I enjoyed my day today and I wouldn't want to have sullied it with more work than was strictly necessary.

More links for your viewing pleasure.

Go to Jo's blog now. She has posted something awesome. I like to think of it as an ode to me and Barb.

Is it set in space?

Yo Samberg What's Crackin?

So SuJoTo have a crush on Andy Samberg of the SNL Lazy Sunday Digital Short fame. In the course of my not-sleeping, I have stumbled upon the website of Scrumptious Samberg (too much? would you prefer Sexy Samberg?) and his posse who write for SNL. I haven't looked at everything but the Bing Bong Boys music video made me laugh. Admittedly I'm strung out and prone to giggle even when well rested, but I think it's worth a look.

Snack Attack Motherfucker!

In case you're dead inside/haven't seen Lazy Sunday: Feast your eyes on this tasty lick. Shut up, you sleepER.

It's not un-dumb.

Another late night. Rough! Amusing myself by looking at Bloggers Blogs of Note thingie. I've seen this video somewhere else, possibly The Hour. The point is, it's stupid. Stupidly stupendous. Watch the whole thing 'cause I nearly died laughing towards the end of the song.

The Dormitory Boys

A couple more from the Evening Out.

Susan is a minx.



Evan is scared of Susan the Minx.

Curly Toni

So this isn't the best angle to showcase my curls but it's my favourite picture of me from the night. I forget what Jo or Lindz had said but it made me laugh. Short hair now. I'm happy, it feels much healthier but I also miss having long hair. More pictures of our night out at Jowtography.

Lots of work to do over the next couple of days. Test Monday. Presentation Tuesday. School has really started. This evening, however, dinner with Alicia. Antijitos! Coffee! Funniness!

I look hot with curly hair. Pictoral evidence to follow. Night out on the town. Hopefully people are out.

Blast you Router Gods!

Internet was out ALL NIGHT. It was horrible. We're definitely addicted. Talking to Barb about my ineptitude when it came to fixing the router sans him, I compared myself to a chimp. Barb said it was more like I was "some sort of hairless beach ape."

Pulled all-nighter with Jo for no particular reason. Feeling pretty crappy now. Must. Eat. Soon.

I can't remember the last time I was up before 11 AM. Don't judge me. I'm not a morning person.

Me. Contemplative.

I like this picture of me even though you can see my chubby cheeks in all their glory. Today was a good day. All the parts of it. Can't always say that, you know?

Listening to? Sideshow Bob sing HMS Pinafore 

I want coffee. Like, a lot.

Adventures in the Arts Lab.

Toni- stupid smelly jo...we're still hitting william's for cakes and coffees right?
Jowie: me thinks, unless something prohibits us
Jowie: like a train crash
Toni- or a freak robot attack?
Jowie says: that would just be cool
Toni- exactly...we'd be too busy watching it to have coffee
Toni- which would be sad
Jowie: maybe it'll want some coffee and cake after the attack
Toni- and just how are we going to get enough coffee and cake to feed a ROBOT?
Toni- or enough money to pay for it?
Jowie: sell susan

Time Passes!

Toni- okay, i was totally just humming out loud...i hope no one was listening
Jowie: i couldn't hear a thing~!
Toni- YOU WERE PROBABLY HUMMING TOO
Jowie: nah, i was getting a hummer

Sometimes I think I'm addicted to blogging.

Once more, with feeling.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

The Adventures of Puritan Pete and Chester the Catholic.

I will teach you everything I know about the difference between Puritanism and Catholicism at the end of the Tudor Era. Because I'm a nice guy. Also, because imagining the Adventures of Puritan Pete and Chester the Catholic while I was in class made me giggle. They don't wear capes but they will damn you to hell with their razor sharp historical religious commentary. Okay...their sort-of-not-dull religious commentary?

On How to Get to Heaven:

Pete: I'm sad.
Chester (who, in my mind, has a funny hat): Why's that Pete?
Pete: Doesn't matter what I do, I'm not going to get into heaven. I tried becoming a Protestant, then a Puritan. I stopped smiling and wearing brightly coloured clothes and NOTHING. I'm probably going to burn in hell like all you Popish guys.
Chester (shakes his head): This Puritan things sounds like a lot of work. I've got it easy. I've been going to church every Sunday, and saying my prayers. I go to confession and say all my Hail Marys and Our Fathers. And just in case, I'm going to slip Jesus a fiver when my time comes.

You can picture them standing in a field with scythes. I know I do.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

"God only knows what I'd be without you."

The Beach Boys know their stuff.

About five minutes ago, sitting in my room:
Toni:"This song is going out to my two best ladies. "
Jo and Susan: "Sweet."
Toni: "Too bad they're not here right now."
Susan: "Burn!....Hey wait!"

I don't care if this is particularly sappy or cheesy. I love my friends. All of you. You make me feel good. In the pants...and in other regions.

Whisper. Whisssssssssspppppppperrrrr.

I feel like I'm the only person in the basement of Mackinnon right now. It is excessively quiet.

Conspiracy Theory

I think the University is trying to sweat me out of existence. It really seems like ever computer lab, bookstore, classroom, eating place and hallway is ridiculously overheated. The jokes on "them", however, because I have situated myself under some vent that is actually spewing out cold air. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Losers.

Anyone heard of the HBO series Rome? It finished downloading a couple of days ago and I watched the first episode last night. It had everything in it that you can expect from an HBO series: violence and plenty of nudity and sex. Naturally, I enjoyed it a great deal. I could complain that all the ancient Romans had British accents but, let's face it, I loved that. All your old friends made an appearance, Julius Caesar, Mark Anthony, Brutus (who was particularly pretty), Octavian (whose testicles had barely dropped) along with a few Roman matriarchs that are not recognizable historical characters but certainly had fairly nice boobies. On second thought, there was a whole lot of female nudity, but hardly any man-bits. Damn misogynists! Down with male pants/togas! That barely made sense. Anyway, I have it on good authority that there is a good deal of male full-frontal still to make it's appearance.

One scene that really struck me about the episode was when the "King of all Gauls" (a character I'm fairly certain didn't exist as the Gauls wouldn't have been organized into a kingdom as such) was stripped and made to kiss Caesar's standard. For some reason I was all: my people!

First episode gets a definite thumbs up. Remind me, however, not to get crucified. Probably one of the most unpleasant ways to die.

When I was young I used to think that the worst way to die would be if you were an astronaut doing a spacewalk to repair something on your spaceship/craft/station and for some reason you were ejected (wrong word, I know) into space with no way to get back or be rescued. Crucifixion is now number one but I still think the whole space thing would be the most lonely way to die.

On that chipper note, I'm off to procrastinate some more before I crack open Scottish history and learn about the diaspora! Exciting!

Variations on a theme.

We like to kiss Jo. A lot.

Pictures make me happy.

This lovely picture was taken by my dearest Jo, with a slight alteration by yours truly. I'm the dark figure near the bicycle rack. Maybe all you'll see is dark grainyness but I really like it and all the soft edges and junk.

Have you visited Jowtography yet? Do so, immediately.

First night of the play went off without a hitch. Party is apparently at our house Friday. Kinda, sorta, maybe looking forward to it.

Optimism, unusual for this blog.

Now, this might be the Booster Juice talking, but I feel like I'm going to have a good semester. I'm sure it'll get crazy and I'll want to die/kill everyone at some point but hopefully I won't be mired in the pits of despair for days and weeks on end.

Barring any catastrophic and un-Toni-like class results, this is my last semester in Guelph. Mark my words, I'm going to enjoy it! I suppose you could call it a New Yeare's resolution but I DESPISE New Year's Resolution. We'll call it a mid-January resolution.

Things to enjoy:
-staying up late
-sleeping in
-Jo, Susan, Barb, Lindz and Digi
-My sweet, sweet room.
-Scrubs, Rome, Queer as Folk
-research
-appreciating family from afar
-cornerstone coffee and antijitos
-screaming at the top of my lungs indoors
-drama students
-attending class
-skipping class
-booze and it's mind-altering friend, pot.
-etc.

I've done the adult/responsible/boring thing. I did it all through highschool and it's looming on the horizon. Rather than preparing for impending adultdom I'm going to relish in behaviour that's only really acceptable when you're in University and living in a different city from your family.

New Pet

Other hamster died over the holidays. He was always sweaty-looking and anti-social, so I'm not really that broken up about it. Barb came back with Digiridoo. 

Stage Managing: The Revenge.

Look at me, I'm a stage manager doing official stage manager things. Or this picture is completely posed. Either way, I love my new cordoroy blazer. 

Our Illustrious Return.

As previously mentioned, Jo has her own digital camera now. Alas, I am the only Brothel member without a dig cam. Jerks. Expect even more photos to be posted.

Jo and I both got back to Guelph last night and Jo's brother Ammar wanted to come and hang out and get us all massively stoned and drunk. As many of you might already have guessed, we were not unreceptive to the idea.

I drank a whole bottle of peach schnapps and a couple of other random shoots. A great deal of my drinking was done in the shower. Now I'm totally that girl. Ammar showed me how to roll a blunt, which will not EVER come in handy. But if anyone wants to know...well, I wasn't really paying attention actually.

Barb got back this afternoon. He got a ukelele for Christmas. That's right ladies and gents, old-timey Nintendo controller tattoo and a ukelele. We're currently taking orders for Barb-sexing-up.

He may be slightly damaged, however, as we left him alone with Jo's brother this afternoon. Mistake. Ammar got Barb massively stoned and he could barely talk/move when we got home and found the two of them watching the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie.

I love 10 Stanley and all it's affiliates. Following are pictures. 'Cause I like 'em.

Get some schnapps into me and I'm all about bestiality. Especially when the shark has a voluptous mustache and red lipstick

Don't we both look incredibly sober? We're hot young professionals off to the office. Not layabouts headed to the bar. 

Susan looks hot. I am going to steal her curling iron and make it my own. The other two folk in the picture? More Not than Hot, really. 

Oh yeah, the ukelele is green. Jealous? 

Newness

Jo recently purchased a digital camera. She loves it more than me and Susan combined and has created a blog in its honour. Link is at the side, 'cause I'm lazy. Go to Pictorial Evidence for awesomeness.

If any of your are ever in a position where you're deciding what to put on my tombstone I would like something along the lines of: "Her wrath was legendary and her boobs were mighty."

Shut up, I'm still not asleep.

Problem

Just caught myself thinking misfortunate is actually a word. Rather than learning things these past four years, I've unlearned things. Thanks 10 Stanley. Way to Curmudgenate.

INXS isn't cool. Clearly, neither am I.

Is it wrong that I'm kind of hot for the new singer of INXS? He's kind of a skinny slut, methinks. His moves during a recent MuchMoreMusic Live point to slutville. And his last name is Fortune. All in all it seems misfortunate, and yet...

Not asleep.

Why baby Jesus? Why?

One of those woe-to-me posts. My apologies.

I drank a whole bottle of peach schnapps. I'm tired. It's 4:40 AM. Why aren't I asleep like the other three occupants of this household? I need some serious meds/opiates.

Sinner's Juice

I drank a whole bottle of Dr. Migillicudy's'. Am drunk. Do not alert the police, everything is as it should be. AmJam is the shiznit. So is Guelph. Pictorial Evidence to follow.

Happy New Year, for reals.

A Picture, because I've restrained myself for far too long.

Shamelessly gakked from the BBC, Singapore New Year fireworks.

Keep it real Brothas.

T-minus 3 days 'til Guelph.

Getting to that point in my holidays where I feel a little bit like a ping pong ball. I just got back from hanging out with my BFF Jo in the 'Saug and I stopped at my grandparents for 15 minutes to get clothes and then went back to Brian's house because I have to be here for the Cogeco guy. Then tomorrow evening I'm back to Grandma's with the kid in tow because I feel like I haven't spent enough time with them over the break.

Ready to go back to Guelph where I have a drawer, closet, room and bed of my very own.

Had a great time in Mississauga though. New Years with Jo and her parents was appropriately random. New Years Day the other BFF Susan invited Jo and I over for a Chinese feast. It was TREMENDOUS. It was all very adult and excellent with coffee and liquers. Unlike my family dinners, I felt like a grown-up...well, right up until the time Susan started giggling at the "spiced nuts" and we joined in with relish.

In a random and completely unrelated twist, on the way home after my grandpa picked me up at the train station, I saw this guy I had a crush on in highschool. He looks pretty much the same, except even hotter. He's got glasses and goatee (is that really how you spell it?) and, as we were stopped at a light, I had plenty of time to drool. He was a rare crush for me in that I wasn't crippled with fear or feelings of inadequacy when I was around him. I think I still have some notes between me and my friend Shauna detailing the particulars of our imagined courtship, complete with cartoons. Oh highschool.