Tag Archives: wtf

Ask not for whom the Equinox…it nox for thee.

CBC News: reporting the important stuff.

Okay, yeah, those Calgary bathrooms are awesome. Those are the rave ones I blogged about a few weeks ago.

You think Hillary vs. Trump is an important decision? It’s got nothing on Montreal vs. Whitecourt vs. Calgary vs. Calgary vs. Winnepeg!

To be honest, though, any one of those toilets in those bathrooms could run the US better than Trump could.


The Cat’s Meow



Edit: paused it at just the right spot.



Well, this is…something.



(Don’t ask me how I found this.)
(Okay fine it was Tumblr.)

I am, indeed, an April fool

When I get super sleep deprived, I tend to make/write/blog things I don’t remember making/writing/blogging about. For example, I found this thing on my USB this morning. Its “date modified” is last night (this morning?) at 3:43 AM.

Dumb Joke


Sometimes the Web is deep, man.

What the hell, internet.


I had a dream last night about a French-Canadian version of Beck.

His name was Quebeck.

The Dumbest Joke in the History of Dumb Jokes

Say there are two trees growing close to one another, one with slightly darker bark than the other.
One day, the lighter-barked tree appears to have a single sheath of bark that’s slightly darker than the other bits of bark and looks like it matches that of the darker-barked tree.
And the other bits of bark say to the darker bark, “Dude. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

Crap, that isn’t even a joke; that is me with sleep deprivation plus a six-hour layover in Seattle plus the wake of a mini-freakout from last night when I woke up at my dad’s house and had NO IDEA where I was (I thought I was still in Calgary, but nothing looked familiar and I was scared).

I’m not sorry.
Hell, I’m not even coherent.

(Ignore this.)

Good lord

Oh dear god.

Warning: It’s HowToBasic so…expect eggs and other weird stuff.

Dinner and a Boobie

I got nothin’ so you get this.

Good day.


Last night I dreamt that I was in love with my sofa.

Let me repeat that.

Last night I dreamt that I was in love with my sofa.

We wanted to make love but then it was like, “No, wait, I don’t have my slip cover on yet.”
And I go, “It’s okay, baby, I have shoes on.”
So we did it because shoes are apparently a form of human-sofa birth control.
But we done fucked up and accidentally made babies after all.

(They were pillows.)




If you’ve never seen HowToBasic’s videos on YouTube, you’re missing out, bro.

This was the first video of his I saw:

Then this:

This one really got me laughing when he turned on the scale:

And of course, you need the elders’ reactions:


And if you’re wondering, apparently he did a podcast in which he stated that he works at a supermarket and all the food he uses is stuff that has expired and would have been thrown away anyway. Not sure if that’s actually true, but that’s the general consensus. I haven’t heard the podcast myself.

But anyway. YouTube: bringing us to the next level of…“art.”

In This Blog: Claudia Drinks 16 oz of Red Bull and Tries to Write Shit

I…I don’t really remember writing this. I just remember Red Bull coursing through my soul and then passing out in my chair around 8 AM.

I, the Strawberry
Bold and Red
In silken sun, in garden bed
Firm and ripe with seeded tread
No darkness do I see

I, the Strawberry
Bold and Red
Human hands tear off my head
Now I lay bitten, frayed, and dead
No sunlight left in me


There’s Gold in Them Thar Hips!

I had a dream last night in which I was bedridden for some reason and all my major muscles very quickly atrophied. However, as they atrophied, they all turned into gold and I had thousands of doctors from around the world wanting to operate on me just so that they could get their hands on said gold.

In the dream, I kept trying to force myself to stay awake so that the doctors couldn’t come in at night and cut me up, but I accidentally keep falling asleep and each time I woke up I had more and more gaping cuts all over my arms and legs from where the doctors would come and try to harvest the gold as I slept. I woke up (in real life) when it got to the point where the doctors had taken all the gold and were starting to take my bones to see if I had gold in the marrow.

Red Bull is a hell of a drug.


So Matt, you’ll probably enjoy this.

I was having this crazy-ass dream last night. You were in it; I think we were at Shari’s, a whole group of us. I did some random thing and you laughed SO HARD. I half woke up at that point, and in my semi-consciousness I realized that I HAD to write down what I did in the dream so I’d remember it in the morning.

So when I woke up this morning I of course didn’t remember what I’d done in the dream to make you laugh so hard. But then I found a note card on the arm of the couch (that’s where I sleep, BTW).

What had I written in the middle of the night?

“Motorboat chocolate boobs.”

This reminded me exactly what went down in the dream: I had ordered the Shari’s “special” for the month, which ended up being a giant set of chocolate boobs (like one of those chocolate Easter bunnies, but in booby form). Apparently I took them and motorboated the hell out of them, which just had you in hysterics.


Dear Brain: WTF was that?

I rarely dream about death. Most of my dreams involve some sort of panic, but more often than not that panic is brought about by my inability to meet some sort of deadline in my dream. Not being able to move fast enough, doing things incorrectly and having to repeat them, being so scatterbrained that I can’t get things done in a logical order…stuff like that.

But I rarely dream about death.

Even more rare are dreams in which the goings on of the dream feel exactly like reality. 99% of the time I know in my dreams that I’m dreaming.

But last night? Death, very realistic-feeling dream, and not being able to move fast enough. Some of the main reasons why this most recent dream was the most symbolic, terrifying, and upsetting one I’ve ever had in my entire life.

I went to bed at 6:30 in the morning and must have started dreaming right away. In the dream I find myself in a large white flattened cube of a house. The walls are bare except for two low-lying rectangular windows that are opened and cannot be shut. One window sits above a huge white bathtub; the other sits above my chair and computer stand (holding Vaio).

My knowledge in the dream is that I live with my father and that he is, at the time, out to church and won’t be back for awhile.

So I’m sitting there minding my own business when suddenly it starts raining outside. Almost immediately the water reaches the low windows and starts pouring into the house. I’m not panicked, but I feel worried as I rapidly try to gather up all of our stuff in the house and wrap it in protective plastic wrap. This being one of my dreams, of course I’m unable to move fast enough. I’m slogging through the water, vainly trying to cover things in plastic, all the while watching some of my most important things (Vaio, all my backups for my files, my chair), disintegrate and dissolve in the water. While all this is happening I’m thinking to myself, “dad’s going to blame me for all of this, even though it’s not my fault the water came in and it’s not my fault our windows are so low to the ground.”

Anyway, the rain and flooding finally stop and all the water except for the water in the bathtub miraculously disappears, leaving only small puddles of our mostly dissolved possessions. I wasn’t able to save anything in the house.

At this point my dad comes back and immediately notices that everything but the bathtub is in ruins on the floor. He’s not angry, surprisingly, but is questioning me with increasing panic in his voice. “What happened? Where’s all our stuff? Why’s the house ruined? Why did you ruin the bathtub?” I vehemently argued that I didn’t ruin the bathtub, which only makes him panic more. He’s wandering around the house all bewildered, wondering what to do next.

He tells me he’s going to go outside and check on our shed to see if anything in there survived. I follow him. As we walk down the sidewalk I notice that every cat we’ve ever known is lying dead in some rigor mortis-induced contortion scattered across the lawn. As we continue walking, dead butterflies and birds start to drop from the sky.

We reach the shed, which has been reduced to nothing more than its foundation. The only thing left “inside” it is an old industrial trunk. Neither my dad nor I knew what was in it; we were just overjoyed that some artifact of our lives was spared from the flood/storm.

I call my mom and she comes over to keep me company while dad continues pacing around the house in a mild panic. I start showing her the remains and the dead cats and the trunk, and her only remark is, “that’s so interesting! Wow!” And I just have this tremendous, unbearable sense of loss and hopelessness. All I keep saying is, “it’s all gone. All of it, it’s all gone.”

I woke up with my pillow in a death grip half an hour later, unsure of where I was.  But when I finally realized that my dream was actually a dream and NOT reality, I freaking lost it. I lay in bed bawling for at least fifteen minutes, then curled up in the covers and had a nice little freak-out.

I haven’t told any of you much about my life’s situation at this point other than what I’ve put in this blog, but I think the main reason this dream freaked me out so much is that it was so representative of how I’ve been feeling lately. It was so full of symbolic messages related to my worries, concerns, situation, future, and general mood that I think my brain didn’t want to handle it all subconsciously anymore and so decided to spew forth a nice little half-hour-long terror session during my REM time.

Flarusadofhdaghghghg. That was a draining experience.

Gonna go play New Vegas now. Need to mellow out.

Neil & Prey

So I had this dream last night in which I developed practically an entire season’s worth of a TV drama called Neil & Prey. The show centers around Victor Neil and Alexander Prey, two undercover cops who disguise themselves as priests to bust crime. Most specifically, church-related crimes.

Like in one episode they thwart a parishioner who was poisoning the congregation via the holy wafer thingies (what are those called? I totally forgot), or another episode where a congregation member deeply involved in church activity starts selling the church wine on the side to make a little profit (hahahaha, profit from the prophet…okay, I’m done).

And, for a bit of a comedic element, Alexander develops a crush on Mary Anne, one of the nuns they’re always around, and Victor does his best to keep his companion from showing any inappropriate outright interest in her.


Yeah. Welcome to my dreams.

My favorite color is the missing shade of blue

This is perhaps one of the strangest “tests” I’ve ever come across.

Odd. Interesting.

Is a theorem about pickles called a dill lemma?

Tell me, CNN, what about this story makes it business-related news (at least the booze one was semi-business-relevant)? Are circus careers making a comeback? Should we invest in human cannons? Is Apple releasing the iCannon this summer? TELL US WHY THIS IS CATEGORIZED THERE FFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Can you tell I’m feeling better? I guess I don’t get physically sick, I just mentally screw myself over every few days.


I’m slowly revamping my whole blog design, seeing as how my 5 year anniversary is coming up in a little over a month. My additional pages (those ones up in the tabs there) could use a bit of work, my layout might need a work-over, and I’m not sure if I like my header again, haha.

Also, once I run out of malls, this west- to-east walking tour of Vancouver (and Burnaby and Coquitlam) is happening. 40 kilometers, baby!


I’m really digging OK Go as of late. Their music’s pretty rad, but their music videos, as many of you know, are pretty insane.

Here are a few I haven’t posted yet:


I love this, and the song is really addicting. It’s very “free”-feeling.

Drug trip!




Today’s song: A Tout le Monde by Megadeath