member that time?

sticky sez:

this is another thing that never fails to make me laugh in the most inappropriate circumstances. i think of it often. remember that time when you thought you had a loose tooth and you were worried that it was going to fall out? it was the tooth beside your upper fronts, i believe. and you were talking to us all worried about having a missing tooth and ledford, in all seriousness, said that it wouldn't be that big of a deal because it wasn't your front one? me and cat paused, wanting to agree, and comfort you, but also wanting to piss ourselves laughing. god, i love ledford. i love that she honestly couldn't see the big deal with you missing a tooth. i was getting ready to avoid your phone calls, personally. no way i'm hanging out with no toothless redneck. i prefer to watch you date them.

gummy kisses,
stickEEE

retarded hamsters.

sticky bee sez:

dear filthy-trousers,

quit the charade. i know your pants were simply filthy and dirty and full of booze stains. i'm not buying this fancy 'painted in italy' stuff. not for one minute. you know, i started reading it and i was sure that it was going to turn out that the demon pup had chewed yet another hole through the crotch of your pants and your big boss was the first to point it out. that would have been classic. i remember you having 4 pairs of crotchless, dog-chewed pants. ahh, the beulah. quite a rat-scallion, that one. even your dog is a crotch perve (just like your dad).

great article. although it didn't give me any tips for making myself happier. i enjoy the structure of a job, yes. but i also fully enjoy the non-structure of writing you inanities all day in some hipster coffee shop. my area is full of hipsters. they're useless, aren't they? that hair. the ubiquitous hipster hair. i'm glad we don't have to worry about being that cool, spanks. i'm glad that you wear crotchless dirty trousers and have trouble with social greetings and i occasionally wear sunglasses without noticing a lense is missing. hipsters we are not.

i haven't fallen or made a complete ass of myself in awhile now. seems i'm due for a fall up the stairs or some kind of social disgrace. maybe i'll fall on the bus face-first into a face-full of bus-person lap. yeeeeikes. or an incident on the treadmill. i'm always mildly surprised and impressed with myself when i get off the treadmill each time without having flown off the back of it, crashing into the stationary bikes behind. way to go, i think. terrific job.

god those things are all so effing ridiculous. as i zone out on the 'stair climber' or the treadmill i always think about what jackasses we are to pay money for a machine that mimics stairs (stairs are generally cost-free, you know) or a spinning piece of rubber that allows me to run in one g-d spot like a huge, balding, fleshy retarded hamster who occasionally falls off the back of it.

i'm going to a hipster coffee place now to watch the hipsters shuffle around with their macs blowing that piece of hair from their eyes.

wash your pants,
sticky bee

spankee at work.

i just had an interaction with the boss' boss in the photocopy room.

i was surprised to see him in there, and yet i was able to greet him with an affable: "Hey! How's it going?"

but, of course, half way through saying this, my brain was, like, 'wow, look at you spanky, being all socially adept'. this thought distracted me and my brain hicupped. so what came out was actually: "Hey! How's you doing?"

anyway, then there was some chitchat before he asked, "hey, what happened to you?"

refering to my pants.

ahem.

this is where i will explain to you, as i did to him, that my houndstooth trousers (miss sixty luxury, btw) are hand painted in italy with random, subtle splotches of silver and black.

"really? noo."

"yes."

"noo. oh, you almost had me there!"

"no, seriously."

"yeah? lemme see."

"yes! see?" (me spinning, contorting, stretching my leg out, holding the fabric under the shite light of the photocopy room.)

"no, you got wet or something, didn't you? ha ha."

"no. seriously. they're made like this."

it went on like this, for like, i don't know, 80 minutes. painful.

i am fully retiring with you. right now.

sneek. peek.

edit away:

Get happy . . . or die trying.

Life sucks. Then you die . . . broke, bitter and alone, perhaps wearing a diaper. But does it have to be that way? Sure, you’re going to kick off no matter what but the way you live your life in the meantime is up to you. And summer is naturally the season to try to turn down the suck and hike up the happiness in your everyday life.

Until pretty recently, happiness was thought to be something you could experience only in death, after leading a virtuous life of stagnant, boring self-denial. Most of the world's religions are not huge proponents of happiness - they often rank morality far above kickin’ out the jams. But even Jesus liked to rock out a little. He drank wine and enjoyed gathering with friends and attending wedding feasts. Apparently, Mathew 11:19 says "The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they said, 'Look, a glutton and a drunkard!'” So if Jesus was cool with chowing down and living it up, then surely we can give ourselves a pass once in a while.

Modern science is also thinks it’s an idea that’s time has come. No longer thought to be reserved just for the lucky, the pretty and the rich, happiness is now considered to be within everyone’s reach. And scientists are making it their mission to discover exactly how to reach it.

There’s two steps to achieving happiness, according to Burlington-based Shelle Rose Charvet, author of Understanding and Triggering Motivation and president of the Canadian Association of Neuro-Linguistic Programming (also known as “NLP” or “that thing Tony Robbins does”). Charvet says the first step is to know what you want. The second step is making a plan to pursue it.

“If you don’t know what you want, the first step is figuring that out. If you start to understand what your motivational needs are and you set some priorities and manage your time as a function of your priorities, already your morale is going to shift. What do you prefer? Do you prefer to be creative or to follow your normal procedures? Do you need some outside appreciation and respect? Do you like to be with people or on you own? Know what you need and go get it,” explains Charvet.

So ask yourself: ‘If I really wanted to be happier, what would I do differently?’ Inevitable, the answer will come. And it will be: Quit your job, re-unite with your ex, move to Aruba and eat chocolate cake all day. Which sounds great in theory, put in practice, well . . . research is showing that we are actually terrible predictors of what will satisfy us.

For example, despite our most deeply rooted instincts, it seems having a job is actually fundamental to our happiness. “The thing about work – there’s more to work than the paycheck. Work provides structure, socialization, meaning. There’s so many things tied up in work,” says Sharron Orovan Johnston, an assistant professor of psychiatry and neurosciences at McMaster University who promotes humour as a coping skill to decrease stress and anxiety.

wet. again.

sticky bee sez:

i don't know what coke dust could be, but toxic black snow must add that extra touch of beauty to a winter in hamilton. here it is full of rainy wetness. it's making me feel like half the man i used to be. a month of solid rain. at this point if i saw the sun i would have to scurry under a rock, shielding my eyes and my transparent skin.

you still working on that happiness article? i need it. i woke up this morning and heard the sound of the rain on my window. it feels like i'm in groundhog day. i sighed, "ahh...for fuck's sake..." before i had even opened my eyes. what is the point of having a warmer, snow-free winter if you feel like sticking blunt, rusty metal objects in your eye due to a lack of sunlight?

maybe a doughnut will help.

help,
sticky

coke dust in my snow?

Stelco and Dofasco blamed for black dust
By Eric McGuinness, The Hamilton Spectator (Mar 22, 2007)

The Ontario Ministry of the Environment blames Stelco and Dofasco for "black snow" reported by Beach Strip residents Feb. 5-7.

Acting regional manager Carl Slater says the worst samples collected -- containing 70 per cent coal and coke dust -- came from homes directly downwind of the steelmakers' storage piles just across the eastern end of Hamilton Harbour.

--

seriously. this place really is a shit hole.

also: what the frig is coke dust? and does it go in my nose?

-spankee in hamilton.