Tagged: wtf-2

I don't think white people are allowed to say that

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There aren't enough facepalms in the universe for this.

There aren't enough facepalms for how racist Brad Paisley is being right

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even if he says he's doing it accidentally

by writing a song about white guilt.

I can't believe that this is actually real.


had a dream about classes ending last night

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and I always have weird dreams about school or vacations or my job or whatever I have looming right away in life.

in this dream I walked into my visual rhetoric class and my prof
-who of course isn't the actual prof that teaches the class because then it wouldn't be a dream-
was all

"okay we're going to have a term exam as well as the final exam so open yr books and two of the questions listed"

which honestly freaked me out (in my dream) because we hadn't been told about any term exam so I was freaking out a bit and my friend @JohnNorman was there and his wife also who is super smart and they both told me it wouldn't be an issue because I was smart, too.

except I didn't remember reading the books mentioned in the term exam questions

one of the questions asked about how the changing hairstyles of one of the secondary characters represented their internal conflicts (struggles?) and I was all

I have no idea how changing personal styles represent developing and resolving internal conflicts
wtf am I doing in university

and I was freaking out because johnny khemlab had already written two pages and I hadn't written anything yet and for some reason I was carrying around all these papers in my bag. like weird looseleaf pages from old homework and hand-outs and crap that I didn't need but had for some reason.

so I'm going through this huge pile of paper because I'm trying to find my lecture notes so I can answer these questions and not get an F on my term exam

stressing hard because it's almost the end of the term how could I be so disorganized and not be able to remember what the changing hairstyles mean at a critical moment?!

then the cats decided to walk on my face and yell at me which woke me up

so that solved that problem.

I also had another dream about a strange man who followed me around a scrapyard as I made art from sand but that's another story.

had a dream about mcdonalds last night

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way back when I was a tween I used to work at a mcdix in this underground walkway downtown called winnipeg square and I haven't thought about that job in ages

so it was extra-weird to dream about mcchickens and chocolate milk and mini fridges under the counter

for the first time in close to a decade.

people I knew kept showing up and asking

alyson wtf are you working at mcdix for

and I had no idea.

I was too busy stressing that the mcmuffins were burnt and the grease in the fryer hadn't been changed

and I hadn't gotten my lunch break yet and it was almost time for the dinnertime rush

which was especially weird because I only worked till 4pm

so I had already made like a tree and gtfo'd before that ish started.

though one thing I did like working there was the zen state you got into

when everything was past-paced and crazy and it felt like if you slowed down you would lose yr head

kinda like how things are right now.

good but cray.

suddenly my dream makes sense.

that's it, if I ever have kids

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they aren't allowed on the internet.

Audrey Hepburn's new commerical

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thanks to CGI we can apparently now 'resurrect' long-dead celebrities to endorse new products

like Audrey Hepburn's 'new' commercial for Galaxy chocolate.

the question is... why would someone want to do this? it's so unbelievably tacky.

is this a new 'thing'?

remember those crazy chain emails we used to get?

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apparently they're on facebook now


this is dumb

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today has been so all over the place I don't even know.

I woke up in the best mood ever because we locked the kitten out of the bedroom so he wouldn't jump on our faces all night which meant I actually got a full-on deep, uninterrupted sleep which hasn't happened in a while. when I rolled over there was wonderful light filtering in through the curtains and I had the whole bed to myself and all the pillows and sheets with our high thread count and smiled. happy.

then I got up and went to the living room to work out to the awesome workout dvd we do and noticed that the kitten had peed on the floor which meant I had to pick him up and show him and make the 'psst!' noise that means he's being a dumb kitten and put him in the litter box. which you'd think would be easy, but no. he's realized he can climb up inside the old couch and also up inside the boards of the box spring in the bedroom so that's two rooms where he hid from me and I had to chase him back and forth and the rads were on so the apartment and I was this sweaty ragelor mess chasing a kitten back and forth.

it was ridiculous I felt like jennifer aniston or something.

anyway finally I get him, show him and go grab a glass of water because I'm parched and come back to finish setting up my yoga mat and I notice he's peed again. wtf, guy?!

so I clean that up and empty out the litter box and rinse it off with soap and etc so it's extra-extra clean and put him in there and he looks at me like


and runs away. eugh.

anyway my workout was amazing but nobody wants to hear about that so let's skip to the other boring part which is the 2+ hours I spent transcribing this interview for a project I'm going in one of my classes. it's the worst. the first 10mins are okay but eventually you kind of get to a point where your fingers can't keep up with what's being said on the recording and the words start slurring together and it just takes omg forever.

but enough about that.

so now it's 2:56pm and tyrone isn't home till at least 5pm which means I'm free to graze the internet or clean because I'm obsessed with having a clean apartment.

guess which one I'll wind up doing.

someone is probably losing their job right now

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no, not me.

the person who is in charge of the burger king twitter account, which has been hacked for over an hour now.

generally I don't point fingers and say "this is how you do something" but if yr job is to manage a social media account, you shouldn't be taking time off.

the internet never sleeps and even though you have to, maybe checking the account yr being paid (probably a lot of money) to manage is a good idea.

even (especially!) on holidays.

in fact, anyone paying a shred of attention to the internet right now would know it's happening.

like yours truly, for example.

bk, gimme a call.

[UPDATE: okay, the account has been suspended. I guess the entire internet was enough to alert them to the problem]


had an interesting conversation

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while fixing the printer today.

part of my job is performing some basic IT services even though I'm not terribly good at it. I mean yes I can do entry-level, first year of college type maintenance but anything that requires more than the knowledge I acquired while constantly de-virusing my parents computer I make my boss call a technician whose job it actually is to do that sort of stuff.

anyway today apparently there was a problem with the printer. except there wasn't.

but that's not the point in this story.

the point is the person trying to do the printing, I think, is a bit on the crazy side. I've come to this conclusion because she had me check and double-check the stuff she was printing and it was these letters to someone at the CBC about how the Commies are coming into her house at night and stealing her thoughts. her ideas.

she said that they were coming in and putting straws to her ears and sucking them out and she knew because she could hear them talking in her dreams. their voices were magnified into the straw and into her ear, she said.

I didn't ask any questions. just handed her the letters and went back to my regular job. I was actually kinda convincing myself that maybe she was writing some sort of fiction novel, or something like that. it was just so weird.

except just now she came down and wanted to use the photocopier and took out a book with the word 'TRANSFORMATION' on the cover and started making photocopies of the front and back cover. like, six or seven copies each.

since non-office personnel have to pay for photocopies 'round here I casually asked her what she was photocopying and she looked at me over her shoulder and said

I need to mail these to some people

in a voice that I swear would give alfred hitchcock goosebumps.

I think I was wrong about the fiction book-writing. I think she thinks it's for real.

I wonder what that book is about. and who is she sending all those copies to?

and, mostly, I'm kinda sad. because her made-up life is probably way more interesting than mine.

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