Oh boohoo missy, aren't we lazy?

Hello,
I am an undergraduate at the University of Toronto Scarborough. I am interested in applying for a grant. However, I have heard that there is too much paper work to fill out to the funders when reporting back to them. I don't know if I have the time to fill out the forms. I am contacting a few companies to see their point of view before I proceed in applying.
Sincerely,
AW

"my fingers are a-hurtin'..."

"i'm physically incapable... i took piano..."

"here's a book you'd like... A Million Random Digits With 100,000 Normal Deviates"

[fabio begins strumming]

135... 209.. those are some random digits that leave me feeling pretty fine
6 and there's 12 and 9

actually it can't be random if this song has to rhyme
random digits and songs don't mix

the random digits song, it goes on and on
97 followed by 635

i feel so random. and i feel alive
oooh i feel so random ooo i feel alive

"ok what do we do now?"

let's go for coffee... a little caffeine...

"so you're reading that book?'
"I'm only on page 18"
"it'll go a lot faster if you don't read adjectives"

don't read adjectives
they're so arbitrary
just read the verbs... and the nouns
and you'll still understand what's going down

adverbs are a waste of time
and so are pronouns
all you gotta read is ... "-- this isn't songs on demand!"

dear bubble bed

I am sorry it had to end this way.
No wait. I am not sorry at all. The futon and I are quite happy.

from the trenches of Delta Bingo...

"I'm giving up profanity for the sake my kids."

this is the best song about throwing out your christmas tree EVER!

"we've gotta try the potato gun, i bought a baked potato..."

[Fabio starts strumming his guitar]

"tomorrow night we undress the tree"
"let's strip him down now"

sprucy you're gonna go to the lawny/
sprucy it's been goin' on too long/
sprucy you're going for a ride/
sprucy you're gonna visit the wood chipper and you're gonna end up inside/

it's gonna tear me up inside, but not as much as it's gonna tear you/

oh sprucy, you're gonna be sawdust soon/

oh sprucy, i'll sprinkle you on my playground in june/ [laughing]

"is this really a spruce tree?"

"yes!"
"you need to write it in lyric form with..."
"i need another verse though"

sometimes when i look at my christmas tree/
i think on friday morning where's he gonna be/
you're gonna be out in the cold sprucy/
cause christmas is getting old/
sprucy, you gonna shiver/
sprucy, winter in french is spelled 'hiver'/
oh sprucy, you still gonna be true to me/
but i feel a little less christmas-y/
oh sprucy your needles on the ground/
you're gonna get what's comin' round/

[laughter]

"this is good"
"the stirfry or the song?"
"the stirfry"

oh sprucy...i can finally see out the window/
oh sprucy...you're gonna feel which way the wind blows/
it's lonely in that truck/
but we don't give a fuck/
cause it's valentines day soon/
oh sprucy, there's an angel on top of you/
but i'll be the devil...I'm gonna get rid of you/

[maniacal laughter from Fabio]
oh sprucy....something 'bout christmas beliefs/
oh sprucy, we're not even gonna save you for a christmas wreaf.../
your branches are dry/
if you hafta ask, that's the reason why/
we gotta get rid of you.../
you're startin to sag/
chateau nice has gotta get a new bag/
oh sprucy.../ [laughs]

[instrumental]

put you up/
hang those lights/
and stand around/
popcorn garland/
lights all red/
but you know when you get chopped down/
you gonna end up dead/

[laughter]

"ok, i got nothin' more"

...and chop you down/

"that was good"
"it's G and D"

[guitar]

there's one less tree in the grove/
you might ask us, 'where's the lohve?'/

"how do you spell lohve?"
"l-o-v-e..?"
"that's love"

...sprucy....8 feet tall.../
oh sprucy/
you're headed for a fall/
oh sprucy/
you been so good to me/
oh sprucy/
why we so bad to you/
oh sprucy/
gotta do what chateau nice has gotta do/
chateau not so nice/
all filled up on stirfry and rice/

"nah, that's stupid"
"wanna write that verse I just sang?"
"hold on, i've gotta do some editing here"

[guitar]

"you want more verses?"

oh sprucy, eight feet tall/
but even the tallest tree/
has got to take a fall/

[melodic humming]

"the humming!"

oh sprucy/
your needles and your bark were so juicy/
(i should have sang, "we interpret the 10 commandments loosely")
but now you're gettin' dry/
you're comin down from that christmas high/
ya life's a bitch/
when you end up in that snowy cold ditch/
oh sprucy/
that's gratitude/
oh rusholme road/
we got a baaaad attitude/
oh sprucy/
can you ever forgive us?/
can you ever forget us?/
would you let us know sometime..../
how life is in that wood chippin' line!/

[phone rings]

then the phone rang/

[trails off to get to the phone]

but the chateau still sang...

potato gun to the head
I got my work schedule for the next month today. I put on my PJs at 7 o'clock. I won't be needing them in a few days...cause I'll have no time to sleep.
And the only thing left to eat in the fridge was red cabbage...which may have been expired.

it's not even midnight and i'm already in my PJs

the burbs give you very few options -- especially when you're 28 and still don't have a driver's license

meanwhile, the dear housemates are down at the bishop & the belcher, sucking on cartilage and drowning their guffaws in pina coladas

what to do, what to do...



looks like that magic 8 ball really IS magic!

smoking makes me cough

what to do with a bored Voula...

"I'm BOOOOORRRRRRREEEEDDD!"
"You need your boyfriend - where is he?"
"He's reading - he'd come over if I told him he had to."
"Tell him he doesn't have to read - it's all on the internet."
"What's on the internet?"
"Everything."
"Well, he still has to read it."
"No he doesn't - he just has to write 'refer to the internet'."
"Let's make a recipe from a gourmet magazine - something fatty, with bacon."
"We need to get you out of here."
"Uh-huh. Bacon, and butter, and sugar - oh my!"
"If Ming were here she'd tell us what to do."
"Who's Ming?"
"I thought that was what we were calling her..."
["I didn't say that!" ... "yeah, but we need a narrative device" ... "I always end up as the comic relief, the butt of all jokes. quote me on THAT, Bonhomme!" ... "we really need to get you out of here"]
"Teach me how to play guitar!"
"Ok... um, did you ever play piano as a kid?"
"Yup - four years."
"Then there's hope."
["You never said that!" ... "I just did!"]
"First step - G-chord."
"Is that the bear claw?"
"You already know it?"
"No."
"Ok Greca," [shakes head] "- show me your fingernails..."

salon chat with kim chee

"don't make me laugh. it hurts to laugh"
"oh this will make you laugh: why does a level-headed raisin -- oh shit i said 'raisin' -- ok, why does a level-headed grape always dry up in the sun?"
"..."
"because it's the only raisinable thing to do!"
"why did the grape make a face when it licked the curtain?"
"..."
"because he had sour drapes!"
i am in pain

"who the hell is unlocking the NumLock" ("i didn't say hell!")
"i admit it was me"
"it's a neurosis"
"it's a neurosis to get all upset about it"
"i didn't get upset about it, i just wanted to know who was DOing it"
"and i said, 'it was me' -- that light on the ergonomic keyboard was giving me seizures"
"the light doesn't flicker. it's a solid green light"
"it goes on when you turn the computer on! besides, playing with the NumLock gives me something do to every time the computer is booting up -- otherwise you just feel helpless. useless. nothing but a husk." ("i didn't say that!")

"toe socks should be illegal"
"toe socks are wicked"
"i need someone to buy me socks"
"he needs a wife"
"i also need a fully body wax"
"why don't you marry her? she can come live with us!"
"talk to me when you're not sick"

"i ate this whole tub of yogurt" (holds up a whopping 500g tub)
"you're gonna be farty!"
"i'm not lactose intolerant!"
"we should have a baked bean party!"
"chick peas make me gassy"

"mullets rawk!"
"mullets are huge in mediterranean countries!"
"but you're not mediterranean. if i shave your head while you're asleep, don't blame me"
"i am going to get a haircut which you will absolutely hate. then you will want my mullet back"

"don't lick me"
"but you gave me a wet willy. UNprovoked"
"i swear to god, i will bite you"
"that's gross"

"no one reads this, right?"

if you would like to be a part of these insightful discussions, join us every wednesday night at chateau nice. ("where's the circumflex?!?!") just look for the rotting spruce on the front lawn. citrus, cookies and lactose-packed treats will be provided. but don't make the lactard laugh when she's sick-- otherwise her lungs will collapse.

"the problem now is that i'm only thinking in soundbites, like a politician -- or blogbites"
"how come the lactard doesn't have an ethnic name? i hate Voula"
"i LIKE Voula!"
"can't we call you the Ming Dynasty? or is that too political?"
"can we just end this blog now?"
"yes, let's go to bed"
"but what if we say something funny now?"
"and then?"
"NOTHING! turn it off!"
(giggles all around)
"make it stop!"
"this is a neurosis"

exeunt

"did i spell exeunt correctly?"
"yeh. end with that"
ends typing

"nice"
"with a circumflex!"

now what?

she phoned again today, to tell me she's thinks about me "tutto il giorno" - which is quite more than anyone should.

we talked for over an hour. at one point she cried; i almost did too. she confessed that she doesn't love him any more.

i told her i would be very happy if she was still here with me... which is basically true, and basically meaningless.

would we go out if she were still here?

of course.

(once again, meaningless)

lucky her -- being able to think about me, while she has her boyfriend over there. it's a bit too convenient.

or am I cynical?

my (perpetual) problem is: my general willingess to meet people more than halfway, combined with my general ability to afford a plane ticket.

see, next time I cross an ocean with the express purpose of seeing a woman... well, if her first name isn't 'Mona' and her last name isn't 'Lisa', I'm afraid - after what happened last time - that she won't be worth it.

but "once bitten, twice shy" is such a cliché. and I don't do cliché.

I do know this: for about ten days, we got along almost perfect.

dammit.

i was thinking about going over thereabouts at some point anyway...

why does this happen? dammit to hell; please, someone call ann frickin' landers, before the l-d-r eats me alive (again).

"hah. is that really his last name?"
"yes, why?"
"you know what that rhymes with?"
"towels?"
"and bowels!"
"oh my"
"how appropriate..."

Looks like you've got a case of anal fixation...
Gratifying Activities: Bowel movement and the withholding of such movement
Interaction with the Environment: The major event at this stage is toilet training...along with it comes the realization that this ability gives them power over their parents. That is, by exercising control over the retention and expulsion of feces, a child can choose to either grant or resist parents' wishes.
Anal-Expulsive Personality: If the parents are too lenient and fail to instill the society's rules about bowel movement control, the child will derive pleasure and success from the expulsion. Individuals with a fixation on this mode of gratification are excessively sloppy, disorganized, reckless, careless, and defiant.
Anal-Retentive Personality: If a child receives excessive pressure and punishment from parents during toilet training, he will experience anxiety over bowel movements and take pleasure in being able to withhold such functions. Individuals who fail to progress pass this stage are obsessively clean and orderly, and intolerant of those who aren't. They may also be very careful, stingy, withholding, obstinate, meticulous, conforming and passive-aggressive.

"i think something is wrong with me. i dreamt about you-know-what last night"

"poo?"
"yes"
"hahaha -- in whose bed this time?"
"oh right! i forgot about that one. this time, it was at the library. in a miniskirt. i thought i was sitting on a special toilet chair -- like your mom's"
"couldn't you run to the toilet -- there's lots of them at the library"
"i thought i was using the chair... but when i looked in, it wasn't there. then i saw my poop on the floor. looked like a timbit"
"and does any of this translate into real-life morning laxitivity? or are you really really constipated? eat my all bran!"
"so i try to kick it away, non-chalantly"
"buy some broccoli. metamucil"
"then it rolls towards these little boys playing on the floor. and they giggle"
"don't tell me..."
"so i run over, pick it up –– with tissue of course"
"they eat it?"
"uh no, that would be gross. interesting how marz thought the same thing. you guys are sick. so i picked it up. and it was the size of a STEAK -- in fact, it looked like STEAK"
"and the shape of one too? lol"
"yes. then i threw it in a real toilet"
"good girl. if that isn't a hint from your body i don't know what is"
"my body is telling me i need more steak?"
"no, less meat"
"but i like meat!"
"so do i -- no more bacon at chateau nice!"
some things you just can't joke about

from the Dream Dictionary entry on Feces:

To see or come in contact with feces, signifies aspects of yourself that are dirty and negative and which you believe to be undesirable and repulsive. You need to acknowledge and express these feelings, even though it may be shameful. Release the negativity in your life. Alternatively, it may also refer to someone who is anal retentive.
To dream that you are unable to dispose of the feces, suggests that you are unwilling to let go of your emotions. You have a tendency to hold in and keep your feelings to yourself.
According to Freud, feces is related to possession, pride, shame, money/financial matters, or aggressive acts.

single nyc cabby seeks baby machine

"so where are you visiting from?"
"toronto"
"ah toronto. it is very nice. people are so nice. genuine -- in new york, it's all imitation... loose morals"
"toronto's like that. on a smaller scale."
"you seem like a nice girl. do you want children?"
"sure. 3, maybe?"
"me, i want 27 children"
"27?"
"yes i love children. it's too bad you live in toronto. you seem like a good girl"
"that's kind of you. i'm sure there are many good girls in manhattan"
"oh no. the young girls here just want to party all night and be in many relationships -- no time for children"
"they'll get tired of that"
"yes, and when they do, they won't even be nice anymore. just bitter that they're too tired to party, jumping from partner to partner. i should move to toronto"