Party like your parents are out of town

My God! Last night was a grand 'ol evening. Hubby turned 37 and he partied like a rock star. I will always be the first to say that he's a man who likes his liquor but apparently his friends do too. Our kitchen looked like the aftermath of a high school party. I wish I took a picture before it was cleaned. The festivities were fab, the friends were fab and they were pretty generous with the delicious gifts they left for the birthday boy. I do believe Hubby is stocked up in the import beer category.

Funny Story of the Night
At 4am I decided that since my brother is passed out in the Pipster's empty room on her 4 foot teddy bear and the last guest had left I would retire to the boudoir and rest my spinning head. About 20 minutes later I hear knocking on what I thought was the front door. Since Hubby hadn't come to bed yet I figured I'd let him get it. Then I heard the knock again. Thinking that he may have fallen asleep on the couch I get up. I'm now grouchy and a bit too inebriated to answer the door this late. So out I came to the living room and saw a figure on the balcony peering through the window. We are 3 storeys up so naturally I'm a tad freaked out. Was it a burglar - no, it's Hubby knocking on the window. The security bar jammed the door and he was locked outside. Ah...good times.

I think we'll keep the rest of the month party free as last weekend we had a 4 year-old's birthday party and an intimate gathering of three with impromptu karaoke at 3am. I think my neighbours are either deaf, very patient or planning a revolt...I'll go with deaf revolt.

Time to prune my money tree

The Pipster is turning 4 years old this month. My God where does time go? Even though she acts like a teenager and wants to hear nothing I say at least she doesn't know when her birthday is. One of my parenting bonuses is the fact that kids that age have no concept of holidays, time or birthdays. These can be money saving times if you ask me. Although I would never deprive her of a good shin-dig I also really don't want to fork over hundreds of dollars for a party that she will never remember. I have no idea what I even did yesterday.


So I have been trying to find something that won't bankrupt me and also somewhere she can have a party with 15-20 of her closest friends. Yes, I said 15-20. The Pipster is in daycare and therefore I need to invite her class so no one gets singled out. I feel like the poor mama from "Party Mamas". If you haven't seen this show you need to see at least one. These people are nuts and the loads of cash they will spend for a toddler's birthday blows my mind. Whatever happened to the parties that you served hot dogs, chips, played pin the tail on the donkey and gave out loot bags that cost mere pennies?

I am in for a world of empty pockets I think.

Give me a beer and a shot of vitamin C bartender

I'm not a wimpy gal. Yes, sometimes I cry at World Vision commercials and even get a lump in my throat while watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition but nothing makes me want my mom more than a friggin' cold. I don't get sick that often, but dammit when I do its always a head cold - like the bastard cold that is brewing right as we speak. I have a lump in my throat but its not from a deserving, fly infested child on TV.

So here I sit, with Mr. Alexander Keith's next to me, wondering if they make beer with vitamin C. Yeah, as far as I can see they don't really but I did find this interesting fact:

Spruce beer

Spruce beer is a beverage flavored with the buds, needles, or essence of spruce trees. Spruce beer can refer to either alcoholic or non-alcoholic beverages.
The fresh shoots of many spruces and pines are a natural source of vitamin C.

[1] Captain Cook made alcoholic sugar-based spruce beer during his sea voyages in order to prevent scurvy in his crew. - from Wikipedia

Now to find me a spruce tree. Pretty sure they planted one at the local elementary school. They're always having some sort of tree planting ceremony at those places.

Stretchy pants and the case of the missing giblets

Ah Thanksgiving. A time were people can over indulge and not be judged for it. Bringing out my good fat pants are a treat that I enjoy at three holidays - Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. I usually slip into fat pants when I get home from work but they're not acceptable even to wear on my balcony. Hubby must be in love with with my personality that's for certain.

So like a good lady I decided to get a head start on my Thanksgiving dinner the night before. This meant cleaning out my bird and strategically placing it in my slow cooker so I could close the cover. The turkey usually has giblets which are always contained in a paper envelope inside like any respectable turkey. So at 10:30pm on Saturday I had my hand shoved down the neck hole of my turkey looking for these giblets. I searched and searched but couldn't find them. Clearly I was sold a turkey that was "special" seeing how it lacked the innards that I needed for my gravy and the fact it was missing a wing. I'm so glad that Pipster was in bed because if she saw the massacre in the kitchen she would have some hefty psychiatric bills in the future. Just as I was about to give up a gooey open sack of organs flopped out of the turkey's butt onto the counter. A Giblets VICTORY!

Although I found the giblets and dinner was a success I was thinking - I always find the giblets when I go in through the neck...that means...Oh my God...I think I sexually assaulted my turkey.

"My giblets bring all the boys to the yard"



One hell of a drug

I wish they showed these pictures in my junior high and high school health classes. I'm a believer that a photo says a thousand words, so lets hope that when the Pipster is older she tries to think of those 1000 words instead of trying meth. I'm going to create a file of meth pictures and venereal diseases to show her when she's old enough. I wouldn't call it scare tactics - just realism tactics.

Take a peek of this beauty queen before and after.

Are you serious?

What I'd do if I were a millionaire

I like to watch "How the Lotto Changed My Life". It makes me all warm and fuzzy when I see a group of sanitation workers win $200 million dollars. It makes me go "say what?" when one of them is like, "I think I'll keep working". Keep working? What are you talking about?


Of course I'd buy a home, maybe a dog, make sure my family is OK and set a few dollar bills aside for the Pipster to travel the world and go to college. That's my responsible list. My other list is way more fun.

1. Depending on how much I won, I'd buy one of the places I used to work at and fire my old boss then sell it back to the owner for a dollar.
2. Pay a huge Amazon butch to stuff bullies in a dumpster on a daily basis.
3. Make the world's most awful movie - I wonder what Katie Holmes would be up to then?
4. Kick Andrew "Douche" Clay in the junk then shake my fake nuts at him.
5. Pay Gordon Ramsey to yell obscenities at me and then have him make me dinner, because he's awesome and I'm hungry.

I'm rich bitch!!

Vacation, Hot tubs, Beer Wands & the Immunity Idol

Beer. Flies. NSLC. Driving. Cows. Foodland. Most awesome small town Cougar I ever saw. Bugs. Wizard Wands. Tape. Meat. Hot tubs. Beach. Some shit in the water. Hermit crab Fights.

Epic first night. A friend gave me a nice drinking game suggestion. We tape our full cans to our empties to create sticks we could drink out of. We were intending on using them to fight each other but unfortunately there wasn't any gladiator fights. The sticks looked impressive and we indeed made a memory that first night.

Manda proved to be victor but not before a sloppy ping pong game between me and Jay. As the winner of the beer stick challenge, she gets to be served by the rest of us the next night. We did made the gaudiest immunity idol I have ever saw but JEMS didn`t have a huge selection of..well...anything, let alone anything to construct an idol of any kind.

 

Day two has been so far a recovery relaxing day with delicious food (way too delicious) and good sunsets. Here's to a respectful evening where I don't wake up the next morning to find my bra hanging outside on a chair again.

So again more delicious food has been made and devoured by us like hungry rats. This third night of our stay we made stuffed hamburgers grilled on the good 'ol Broil King. These were absolutely scrumptious. I had to wimp out and save half of mine for later because of the sheer artery clogging agents that of course make it a delicious honkin' heap of meat. These will be made again.

Because we were all to lazy to actual walk or do any kind of physical movement we decided that a good old card came would suffice in the choosing of our next immunity winner. Skip-Bo was played and our new queen comes as Erico DeBambino for tomorrow night. He will be dethroning Greggers, the winner of day two.

We went and did some fancy eating at Al's Acadian Pub & Grill. We asked if they had any Acadian dishes and the waitress replied "Um...not really." So fish and chips it was. They were great and they even had the Kraft Tartar sauce that I love...in a tiny package .

Going to see if we get a winner for the immunity challenge. So far our third winner, Erico, has been a gracious queen. Way better than "Greggers the Wicked".

Erico DeBambino and Manda showing us how its done.
Such technique.

My Keith's induced coma has kicked in so I think I missed a couple of days. I remember hot tubs, food, beer and my 9 game winning streak in ping pong. I'm considering trying out for the Chinese team. I will be their foreign exchange secret weapon.

There has been a lot of animals coming around. There were some deer and an tasty adorable rabbit that was hanging around. But none was as awesome as the bat that would eat all of those stupid mosquitoes. We ended up naming him Batrick. We even tossed some moths up to him and he came out of nowhere and dove for them. Gross but wicked awesome at the same time.

Double rainbow the day before we left.

Its my last day and I'm glad to get home to Hubby and the Pipster but at the same time, wish I had a couple more days. We didn't get a lot of sun this week but it usually took me to about 3pm to get my arse in gear most days so really how much of it would I have seen?

Until next year Malagash. It's been a blast and hopefully you will forget about my indiscretions...because I'm trying to.

Vacation is my hot-n-saucy mistress

A well deserved vacation is in my future...like in 2 hours. Technically it started Friday at 4:30 with drinks at Durty Nelly's with my co-workers and then moved to Gregger's place for birthday drinks. I however did not see too much of the birthday festivities because that bagel I ate wasn't enough to keep me going all night. Fast forward 3 hours to Hubby shaking me (non-violently) so we could go home.

Erico DeBambino walking along the beach last year with Secret

So now I await my drive to pick me up in 2 hours so we can go on what has become our annual Fall vacation. Last year we spent a week at a cottage on the Northumberland Strait and had the most relaxing, comedic and intoxicating time. This year Manda will be joining myself, Greggers, Erico DeBambino, Jay and of course Secret the dog. Hubby gets to stay at home with the Pipster while I slip into a self induced Keith's coma.

Malagash here I come, so lock up your daughters...ah ya that phrase doesn't work for me.

Malagash here I come and I'm bring my gays, so lock up your antiques (and your adorable boys).

Punch me in the boob if I ever move again please

I'm serious, if I ever say "Hey we can move ourselves", do it...punch me square in the bazongas.

Hubby and I moved (with the assistance of my driver dad) by ourselves in 40 degree weather. It took us 10 freakin' hours and I have never sweat so much in my life. Hubby was shocked when he didn't have the chiseled body of a God the next day after all that lifting. I was shocked that I didn't die of heat exhaustion.

Later on a friend came to our rescue after he was done work and worked like a well oiled machine. Ahh to be in shape...I'm just too busy being fat.

What are these jerks smiling at? Moving sucks and unpacking sucks. The whole experience is poo in a handbag. I'll tell ya, I didn't smile once the whole day...for real.

T-minus 10 hours to the shit show I call moving

So moving day is tomorrow. Since the 31st is on a Tuesday all of mine and hubby's friends are working therefore we are the movers. I did have movers booked but changed my mind because I thought it was a tad expensive and wasn't sure if the other people would be out of our new place when we arrived. My fear was I'd be paying for people to stand around doing nothing, which doesn't work for me because time is money ladies and gentlemen.

So now I get to move in 30 degree weather and lug my crap up 2 big-ass flights of stairs. I may not make it and if I don't I want you to know that I love you all...except for my friends' next door neighbour who let her dog piss on my leg. I dislike you.

Disturbing things I saw last week

I work in downtown Halifax and see an array of interesting people on a daily basis. When I say interesting I mean gross and sad. I'm not a judgemental person, although I'm sure in my group of friends I can seem like it, but that's the way we roll. Here is a taste of what I saw last week and my verdict.

Meth Boy
Meth Boy is a young guy in his early 20's who has gone down the wrong street and kept on going. He wears really heavy clothing on hot days and sometimes looks like he got the piss beat out of him, although it wouldn't surprise me if he did it to himself in a meth rage. He also gave himself a haircut one time which left him with tufts of hair. I wish I had a picture of him sometimes so I could show my daughter what not to do. I saw him actually not downtown this week, but on my street pacing back and forth mumbling to himself, which isn't unusual but he was mumbling into a microphone which was attached to nothing.

VERDICT: I just want to give him a bath and a karaoke machine.

Santa's Surprise

It is not an uncommon practice for people to beg for change, dig through the garbage for bottles right next to you or pick up smoke butts for a fix. But this next fella caught me off guard slightly. First off he looked like a Santa who was down and out on his luck. Yellowing beard, sweat stains you know the picture I'm trying to paint here. I was outside enjoying the warm sun with a couple of my work buds at lunchtime when this fella walked by. Any who, he must have saw a good butt on the ground because he bent down to pick it up and I saw more butt them I could handle. He had a split the size of Steven Tylers mouth in the crack of his pants and all of us got the worst fright of our life. I'm fairly certain to this day that he wasn't wearing briefs.

VERDICT: I will be making sure this Santa isn't working the mall come Christmas time.

No Dignity Dad
This guy makes me sad. He has multiple tattoos on his face which will definitely ruin his chances of managing a Subway. Career killer move dude. He walks around the outside of Scotia Square Mall with a fanny pack on while picks up butts and looks in the smokers outpost cans. The worst thing...he has been bringing his 6 year old son with him. Now, if you are feeling the need to pick up smoke butts instead of, I don't know, QUITTING, please don't bring your kid with you. It's not considered bonding time and not the best memory for a child. I hope this kid doesn't have to write a "What I did on my summer vacation" essay when he goes back to school because Child Services may be paying a visit. 

VERDICT: Although you hold your kids hand and seem like you genuinely care for your son, sometimes you need to do things on your own.

I smell something burning...Hubby must be thinking

Hubby had a great idea today. They are few and far between so I thought it was worthy of a post. Let me set the scene.

We were at home and I suggested that since we are moving soon and I would like to paint the new place, so we should go look at paint chips. We were going to the grocery store anyway, which is next door to where I wanted to go, so why not?

The response I received wasn't even a language. Maybe in the days of neanderthals it was, but for 2010 I would consider it a mouth fart. How could hubby not want to look at paint chips? He likes to shop so whats the problem? So then he tries reverse psychology on me, "But I trust the way you decorate, so I don't need to look at them." Now part of me wanted to stop right there and agree, go pick out the most horrendous colour, paint our new walls and see what he had to say then. This however, would create way too much work for me in the end so I will keep it as Plan B.

Hubby then comes out with the idea that they should have mini bars, like the one you would see at a wedding, stationed in every store that is overwhelmed by the female gender. He said that men would be more apt to grace these places if they could have a cold beer to entertain them. I think he has something here. It beats bringing a flask with you and looking like an alcoholic I guess. I could tell he was impressed with his idea because I could already see him dreaming of flat screen TVs and sports. What's weird is that it's a Canadian Tire I wanted to go to, a store mostly filled with men. I have a feeling he had been thinking about this idea for awhile and needed to get it out in the open.

Men and their crazy ideas. What's next a ball room to keep them from wandering after they too hammered at the "in store" bar.

Deodorant: not just there to take up space

There are many things in this world that really serve no purpose except to get in my way, be useless, take up space or all of the above. Now of course I don't think these things were solely put here to annoy just me and only me, but it makes me a much more grouchy person if I think so, so I'm going to go with this notion.

Spencer Pratt. A stain on society from what I can see and should be told this on a daily basis by his mother. How is this fame-whore a "celebrity", for lack of a better word. I have never had the pleasure of watching The Hills, because I would probably dig my own eyes out with an icepick.
 

SPENCER = ALL OF THE ABOVE

That wet noodle is more of a celebrity then him.

Canned peas. Why have canned peas when you have frozen and fresh. There are other options now so canned peas should be sent packing. Plus I never did like them.

CANNED PEAS = USELESS

Oh lord, don't those look appetizing?

Slow mall walkers in a row. Maybe because I worked in retail for a long time I have this sense of urgency when I'm in a mall. I have places to go, things to buy and then get the hell out. When these mall walkers cut me off, stop suddenly in front of me or walk down the wrong side of the hall I want to start throwing elbows. I think I really need to deal with my anger in this department.

SLOW MALL WALKERS IN A ROW = GET IN MY WAY

Don't you just want to run through the middle yelling "Red Rover, Red Rover".

 There are many things that take up space, but do you know what doesn't? Deodorant. Yes deodorant. Deodorant just doesn't help you stay fresh, dry and free to move on those hot and humid days. It also does wonders for the people who are occupying the space around you. It lets these people stand to be around you on these days when perfume and cologne just won't cut it.

I'm pretty sure I have an obsession with deodorant. I just don't get how people can go through the day without it. I have been exposed to so many people this summer who have wretched odour emanating from them. How can you not smell that? Anyways, the verdict on deodorant is:

DEODORANT = NOT A WASTE OF SPACE

"Attention Wal-Mart shoppers...your ass crack is showing"

So I've come to find out that Wal-Mart shopping in Halifax is not like Wal-Mart shopping in other places in North America. Sure there are the weird people who you just want to smack. Like the ones who yell at each other in the store. The others who are waiting for a cab out front while they exhale cigarette smoke all over their kid in the cart or stroller. There's even people who push their cart down the wrong side of the aisle which really pisses me off. I was taught which side of the hall to walk down in elementary school, so you should know this as well. Of course there are some bad dressers, but it's Wal-Mart. Do you really have to wear your Sunday best? Apparently no...no you don't.

******WARNING******

The images you see may give you cramps, bloating and nausea...all of which are better than these outfits.

Looks like you're pondering something...like the lack of fabric on your arse.

I just checked to make sure my kid was soundly sleeping in her room because I'm pretty sure I've seen him somewhere before.

That's right, it was America's Most Wanted.

I have to say I respect a gal who stretches before strippin'. Very responsible.

Reverse crack?

...oh yes reverse crack. How could I have questioned it previously?

NO!

NOO!

NOOOOO!!!

....and my personal favorite...

The Cyril Sneer

After seeing that last one I think I'll have to go adjust my bra...

...for the rest of my life.

Check out peopleofwalmart.com for more awesomeness!

Moving boxes of wine would be a whole lot more fun

 

I'm going to be moving soon and its starting to cut into my productivity. Well I should rephrase. The weekend socializing is cutting into my weekend productivity of preparing for my move.


I get up these days around noon (on the weekend) and really don't get to do a whole bunch by the time I do some things with the Pipster and the normal weekend stuff.

I hate moving and I love weekend backyard drinking with my buds so I'm a tad torn. I think I'll book myself off for next weekend and concentrate on filling my boxes.

Shut your face and slap your momma, that's some good eatin'

I like food and food likes me, judging by the way it lingers around my ass. I do enjoy going out for a nice meal with the hubby once in a while, but most of the time we usually stay in and cook for ourselves. Hubby isn't much of a chef. Basically if it can't be prepared with a can opener or toaster he wants no part in it. So that leaves me to be the culinary expert in the family. Thankfully he will eat what I cook as long as there is no fish or spices. When I first started dating him he survived off of Scarios and KD. He has quite the pallet.

We love comfort food. It's terrible, I know, but so delicious right? Hubby's personal favorite...hot hamburger sandwiches. He will even order this in a restaurant. Men. I personally adore anything with potatoes and sour cream. If I want to eat non-stop until I gag from sheer pleasure, this is what I make. Bon Appetite!

Hash brown Casserole

1-1 1/2 bags frozen hash brown potatoes (or cut up shoestring fries)
1 1/2 c. grated Cheddar cheese
1 small container sour cream
1 can cream of chicken soup
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. pepper
1/2 small. onion, diced

TOPPING:
1/4 c. melted butter
1 1/2-2 c. crushed corn flakes
Mix well to coat flakes, sprinkle on casserole.

Mix all ingredients except hash browns until well blended. Stir in hash browns. Your mixture shouldn't be runny, it should stick together. Turn into 9 x 13 inch buttered dish. Top with topping. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-40 minutes. I usually cover it for the first 20 minutes so the top doesn't burn, but then again I have a shitty stove.

this isn't my casserole, but it looks some tasty.

You could always add some cooked ground beef or leftover ham. My friend Greggers suggested this and I think its a fine idea. If it sucks though don't blame me, although I could feel my arteries tighten when he mentioned ham.

"Bum on the Run"

There are a few characters in my neighbourhood that are questionable to say the least. I've mentioned the stinky juggler, and there's the outside soft core porno couple I have encountered, but then there is the bottle collectors that risk there life dodging cars along Quinpool Road. Most obey the rules of the road and just do their thing. For some though it could be bumper to bumper traffic and these crazies decide a good idea entails shoving their cart loaded with about 1000 cans and bottles across two lanes of traffic. Then try to lift it up and over a median looking around as if someone is going to come out and help them.

a) 4 feet to the left there is no median so c'mon.

b) Are you that crazy that you think this is a good idea.

c) NO ONE IS COMING TO HELP YOU, so you can stop your belly aching, once you do miraculously make it across, that people were just walking by staring. You made your pile of cardboard boxes bed, now you have to sleep in it.

One of my favorite fellas that I like to observe is a guy who broke the mold. He has platinum hockey hair and wears usually either a mesh shirt (I detest these) or no shirt. He has a cart and and a ghetto blaster which blares classic pop/rock. His taste in music is acceptable, but it stops there. I have a love hate relationship with this guy. While I love to watch him from a distance stumble, dance and talk to himself in broad daylight, I hate when he parks his disease ridden cart in front of my door. I feel trapped because I don't want to touch it for fear I will contract some disgusting puss filled rash or he'll come around the corner and spit on me. Either way I don't win in this situation. So I end up barricading myself in my apartment until I hear the sound of The Beatles fading in the distance.

This is dude's chariot. It wasn't parked directly in front of my door today, but his tunes were defiantly blaring.

"My side boob" is covered with a respectable blouse

It's the weekend, it's sunny and it's summer. It also apparently was a great day to take your girls out for a walk.

I went to the Superstore to grab a few things for the long weekend. From the time I left my door and walked the 2 minutes to the store and back I was bombarded with boobs, PDA and a waft of BO to boot.

There is this fella who sits outside the Superstore and juggles for change. He seems nice but I honestly don't get too close for fear I will swallow his stench, because it's that bad. So now I've managed to get inside the store. They're renovating and I'm pretty sure that everyone in the surrounding area came to shop at the same time as me just to be dicks. People were more ignorant today in the store than usual so this bothered me as I was already in a bad mood from the stink I walked through earlier.

I finally get my piddly food order into the checkout line, look up, blink then wonder if an episode of Bleu Nuit is being filmed. There right in front of me was a giant side boob hanging out of this chick's halter top. I was a deer in headlights and wanted to look away but could not. She turned to get her wallet and the side boob turned into a full boob shot. C'mon lady, how do you not feel that shit hanging out in the breeze?

So I left shaking my head, wondering how someone could leave the house with a shirt like that on only to walk outside and get a mouthful of body odour from the stinky juggler. So now I am in a bad mood, disappointed at the chick in the line up, gasping for non-stanky air and then I see it...a girl and guy laying on the grass in front of the Superstore totally making out hard core and what does the girl have?....Effin' side boob! WHAT?! I've been known to open the cookie bag before I got home, but hubby and I usually can keep it G-rated until we get to our door.

That can of Zoodles wasn't worth the therapy I need now.

These pictures "motivate me" (not to be captioned in awful pictures of myself)

I'm pretty blessed to have a job I like, a boss I like and co-workers I adore. I have IM for those times that you need to say something that probably shouldn't be said aloud and even if I do, the people that surround me do me the honor of looking the other way instead of running to our friendly neighbourhood HR department.

I also have killer friends on another floor who send me terrific emails with hilarious captioned pictures. I've honestly never been one to surf the web unless it was for something somewhat specific but I'm a changed woman now. Those jerks have won me over.

Here is a taste of some demotivational posters that my awesome friends send me to fill my day.

I'm pretty sure I saw these two cutting themselves in the alley I frequent.

Don't ya just want to take one home and hide it under your pillow?

Om nom nom.

It could have been a regurgitated cookie and probably would have looked just as tasty.

I have that dress.

...even Jesus wouldn't use you. Not even if you begged him sister.

That you are sir, that you are. If I were a green alien I'd be putty in your hand.

Happy Pride Halifax, my daughter loves your queens

This year I decided to take the Pipster to Halifax Pride Parade. She's almost 4 and I thought she would enjoy the colours, the sparkle and mom could watch hot gyrating men.

So I asked her if she wanted to go. She asked me what a Pride Parade was, so I explained it was a parade that celebrated gay and lesbian rights and togetherness. She seemed satisfied with this answer until she said, "what's a lesbian?" So again I tried to explain to her as simply as I could so that she might get the gist of it. She seemed to get it I think a bit better than most her age would. Seeing how hubby and I do our double dating with a terrific gay couple, and occasionally have them babysit, using Gregg and Eric as my example (insert women) was pretty easy until I mentioned that one of the things she would see at the parade would be drag queens.

Pipster: "What's a drag queen?"
Me: "Ahh...a tall sparkly princess with big feet."
Pipster: "Oh."

That was easy. I hope explaining sex will be just as simple.

So off the two of us went to spectate the awesomeness that is Halifax Pride and were not disappointed. There was amazing support from lots of Halifax groups, fun floats, water guns, drag queens, KINK enthusiasts and of course gyrating men for me. What I thought was interesting is that the Pipster was afraid of being squirted by a water gun but when the Halifax KINK members strolled by in latex, leather, mesh and ball gags this seemed to be as normal as watching a pigeon cross the street. Why can't everyone see the world through the eyes of a child?

 

We then ventured to the Garrison Grounds for music, drag shows, ice cream floats, bouncy castles for the kids and fun in the sun with our friends. I have to say that in all the times I've taken the Pipster out on an excursion this was the best time of all. 

  

HALIFAX    PRIDE:

 You know how to throw a party!

 ...AND OF COURSE:

        the Pipster got to see her
                          Queen! 

                        

Hot time in the city = people who have no mirrors

I'm fairly certain 99.9% of people have mirrors in their homes. Actually I can honestly say that I've never been in a house where I thought to myself "you know what this place is missing".

Here is a list of things that I have noticed so far this summer, and summers past, that are No No's when out in public.

Ladies:

• halter tops that show back fat are not attractive, nor is not wearing a bra with one.
• Wearing bikini tops walking down Barrington Street is weird.
• If you are going to wear a tank top and wave your arms around like you just don't care, please shave your armpits.
• short shorts that can be mistaken as underwear are just that...underwear and therefore should not be worn in public.

Men:

• good body or not, it is not that hot out that you need to take your shirts off and walk down the street unless you are doing something that requires effort like just finished playing sports and are walking home. Usually these offenders are the guys that hang out in front of Park Lane Mall on Spring Garden Road who cat call at women and have no business removing their shirts even for a shower (whenever that may be).
• boys your feet are not too ugly for sandals...unless you don't cut your toenails.
• Unless you play rugby or are Richard Simmons, short shorts are not for you.

Both:

• if you are going to wear a sleeveless shirt, make sure your deodorant is well blended. Deodorant balls are somewhat offensive.
• Any sort of mesh shirt (men & women) is not acceptable in this decade.
• DEODORANT...Please wear it. Being stuck on a bus on a hot day with a stinky pit smell lingering makes me want to vomit. I don't want to open my mouth for fear I might swallow the smell. 

(side note: don't be offended when my kid asks me loudly "what stinks?" because she's just tellin' it how she sees smells it.)