In the Line of Fire.......

Can you picture Brittney Spears singing She's A Maniac from the movie Flashdance? If there were something I could compare my mental state to right now that encompasses my era, this would be the perfect video/song mix for me to take the staring role in. Although I have not yet shaved my head, I would have no problem beating the shit out of a vehicle with an umbrella in the blink of an eye. (Note to hotties: Park your car next door when visiting Lisa). Battling addiction and the effects of withdrawal is extremely dangerous not only to my health, but everyone else around me (ask Karen). However on the "upside of anger" I will say that I shouldn't be suffering from high blood pressure much longer because my ability to hold in my true feelings and suppress any negative verbal attacks has totally flown the coop. If I've got something to say now - look out, duck, get the hell out of the way and out of the line of fire cause if its directed at you - you have no chance of survival. I will chew you up, spit you out, stomp on your head, pull your penis off and I'll MAKE your mother wear those army boots. I have officially become the nasty, screaming, hair-raising, hell-seeking wicked witch of the north.....and don't bother fucking arguing with me either. Meryl Streep in the Devil Wears Prada - has fuck all on me. (Deep breath, deep breath....where the fuck is my fake cigarette I've been sucking on and my piece of celery - cocksucker!!!)
Addiction is a BITCH with a capital B.......and I am just that.....a BITCH with a capital B!!!
Every little thing aggravates the shit outta me - you can imagine the beating Mike is taking. He didn't last with the non-smoking thing. Probably cause I've got him scared shitless. He's probably afraid to even fall asleep at night - bet he sleeps with one eye open. HA, he knows better than to piss this chick off right now. Strangely enough there IS a side effect associated to withdrawal - it automatically grows the biggest, fatest, heaviest, hairiest, scariest set of balls you'd ever want to see on some maniac bitch from the north. Oh ya, I've grown balls - verbal fire throwing balls. My problem is that they are totally uncontrollable. At any moment in time, and without warning, something sets me off and somebody's getting a face full of hot, scorching balls - and trust me, these are not the kind of balls you want resting on your chin.........

It's All or Nothing.....

My great friends beg of me to "keep it simple". And I try.....I really do try. But something inevitably comes over me somewhere between sim & ple and I have to don my superwoman cape and take off to greater heights conquering my last feat. This "self-proclaimed" superhero phenomenon rears its head unexpectedly and battles relentlessly and constantly with one villain, one worst enemy......HERSELF. Yep that's right, I am my own worst enemy. However I refuse to take all the blame! There has to be some kind of "handicap", "gimme", or just some sort of lei-way due to the fact that I am a product of "Jane". Aaaaaaaah, it scares the hell outta me just to say it. I'm convinced that somewhere at MY beginning of time, some genes must have got screwed up and processed the big "All or Nothing", or "Go Big or Go Home" philosophy into my minuscule little brain. Betcha when I was floating around Jane's belly and she decided to have that beer and smoke I waved my hands in the air, shook my but and screamed, I love this shit. And that's when the beginning of All or Nothing came to fruition........makes sense eh?
So here I am again in another All or Nothing predicament.......a "nothing simple" scenario.......
They say that you should never attempt to lose weight and quit smoking at the same time - let alone throw in the promise to get ripped in 90 days. It's just too damn hard and you set yourself up for failure. Well being the absolute heaviest I've ever been and deciding to quit smoking is a very scary task on its own. I can't put anymore weight on or I am going to be in really big (and I mean BIG) trouble. So what do I do.....I go for the All or Nothing Program. I quit smoking and I go on a strict diet (well as strict as I can get it). I am still working up to the get ripped in 90 days strenuous exercise portion of my All or Nothing Program - but I'm hanging in there. Well I have started doing alot more walking with my dog since his doctor gave me shit too. I'm as miserable as Jane on menopause, I'm as mean as Jane on menopause but I'm determined, I'm as determined as Jane hoping she'd catch us doing something illegal. (How we've ever hid from that one, I have no idea.) It's been 9 days - no smoking, no brownies and I'm now going to add another schedule to my schedule, I'm getting my teeth whitened. I'm hoping the mouth guard comes with a strap that securely fastens behind my head, perhaps even locking my hands into it - kinda like a muzzle/straight jacket all in one deal. It'll be perfect, it'll prevent me from eating, smoking and more importantly, biting anyone that pisses me off on a per minute basis.....

Procrastination at its finest......

Calling all hotties, calling all hotties.....I need your support. My spur of the moment purchase of Tony Horton's P90X is currently sitting in the UPS terminal in Barrie and will be delivered tomorrow. Instead of just sending it back - I am committing myself to doing this. I have read a hundred different blogs about how successful normal people like me have been. People with high blood pressure, back pain and carrying around far to much weight for their size - yep people just like me!! I don't want to live like this. I want to get off this daily rollercoaster ride of guilt and self destruction because I hate the way I am right now. I don't want to be worried about a heart attack at the age of 40.
So I'm calling on you for support. I'm calling on you to push me - to make sure for 1 hour a day I am following this plan. I really want to feel better about myself.
Thanks
P.S. I will be starting the plan on Monday after my seafood fest this weekend - so don't get on my case till then! Talk about procrastination!!

It will be tomorrow in no time....

Well, well, well, here it is once again - VDay. Whoopy shit!! Its simply a recognized man's day. A day that every male in the world is expecting at some point - to get a piece of ass! No wonder I woke up miserable. Seems that over the last few years I have somewhat lessened my need for the almighty fuck on such a regular basis. I am quite happy with my little "10Volt pink pearl" that's quick, right to the point and only appears at my convenience. Yes, did I mention it's always at MY convenience.
I've decided that I really like my space - and I especially like it when nobody is invading it. I cringe at the thought of being expected to "perform" when I would much rather read a book on the couch ALL BY MYSELF. And don't wander over to MY couch and start mauling me because you think I have flashed you some sweet "come fuck me" kinda look - trust me, I haven't!! And why is it that every time I bend over you have this undying need to run your fingers down my crouch.....AHHHHHHH, I hate that!!!! Stop It!! And unless you want to get 2 beds in our room, stay on your own side and QUIT THROWING YOUR LEG OVER ME.....AHHHHHH, I hate that too!! So that is my rant....almost.....you see this is the very first time (ever) that the almighty plumber has taken it upon himself to "make reservations for 2" at Christies Mill for this VDay celebration.......very, very nice gesture and I am certainly surprised and thankful that he did this all on his own - but here I sit all day knowing I'm going to pay, and I am going to pay BIG TIME......so OK in all fairness to his majesty's efforts, I'm going to give in this time and present the "king" with his piece of ass on this special VDay.......but rest assured that small little wonder of a 10V pink pearl with make this VDay quick and painless.......and it will be tomorrow in no time!!!

If I ONLY had of returned my movies on time......

Ok, the planets must have shifted or played a nasty game of twister when I wasn't looking. Seems since last Friday my "being" took a wrong turn somewhere and has ended up in some land that finds great pleasure in self inflicted torture and bad karma. Looking back, I think it all started when I walked into the chinky store to get movies for a quiet Friday night - obviously I was unaware that as I opened the door I was about to be whisked through some tunnel of darkness for the next few days....or perhaps the chinky just knew that I would be 2 days late returning my movies and realising that his chinese finger nail torture no longer worked on me, he would place some crazy oriental budda-ass spell on me. It worked! My anticipation of a mellow Saturday and spending some quality "me" time getting my hair highlighted and cut seemed so innocent. Then it began....mysteriously and without warning some guy named Tony Horton appeared on my TV and within 7 minutes hypnotized me to hand over $400 for his P90X promise of a new body in 90 days. (Probably the exact amount of late fees I have paid taking my movies back days later.) Like the angel and the devil, I was both shaking my head in disbelief and my lack of common sense yet found great satisfaction in my sudden need for self inflicted torture and buns of steel. My journey continued when I was sitting peacefully in my hairdressers care when all of a sudden I had an uncontrollable urge to have my eyebrows ripped from my face. Something I had NEVER done before. In a matter of seconds I had convinced myself that I was an addict of over-tweasing and in an effort to let them grow in, had all of a sudden grown a uni-brow that needed fixing....NOW. I was desperate! I sprang from the chair - foils bouncing as I made my way to the receptionist to beg the spa to help me. Whisked away to a dark cavern at the top of the stairs, I was on my back in no time with some S&M specialist paddling hot wax on my eyelids. Just then, and without warning RIIIPPPPPPP.....With a blood curdling "Jesus Christ what the hell was that?" scream for help, I sat up instantly and glared at this masochist through burning watering eyes that I was sure had no lids left on them. That was it....I had officially been sent to the chinese torture chamber. As I was drifting in an out of lethargic consciousness, I was sure her eyes began to glow a neon green and heard a deep satanic laugh come from her when all of a sudden she leaned into me and asked "Should I do your upper lip now??" I lept from the table and ran......ran as fast as I could back to the safe care of my hairdresser. I would grow a moustache AND a goatee before attempting that fate. Even Vince (my hairdresser) looked at me with a pained expression and commented " Geez you really go red eh?"
When I finally got a chance to sit and watch my movies I had rented 2 days earlier.....5 minutes before one of the movies was to end, the disc screwed up and I never got to see the ending of my movie.......pissed off, I got up to let the dog out and found my father standing in my driveway with a deep look of concern on his face and telling me to call my mother.......yikes, this couldn't be good. She screamed and yelled at me for not answering my phone, and hung up on me........obviously I had done something horribly wrong staying in my house and minding my own business for the entire day......I realised that I had officially pissed off the gatekeeper to this tunnel of darkness I had been living in for the last 48 hours and her name was Jane. I promptly returned my movies to the chinky who surprisingly greeted me with devilish little grin.......asking me if I enjoyed my weekend.....HA, he had gotten the last laugh. I paid my late fee which I am hoping is simply his fee to release his oriental budda-ass spell from me. Time will tell this weekend if suddenly I become allergic to seafood and swell to the size of an actual budda.....

The Power of Infomercials

I can't believe it - I fell for it!!! As I slipped my credit card back into my wallet I said to myself - Oh my God, they got you - you fell for it. Yep, I'm going to be ripped, lean, mean and have the body of a 20 year old Miss America - and its all going to happen in 90 days. Those washboard abs that I have never had in my life, are suddenly going to spring from the fat depths of my mid section and appear fierce and ready to be shown off. My arms will suddenly become strong and defined, my back fat will be non existant and my tits will no longer scream suffocation from the wallows of my armpits. My legs will become trunks of smooth shiny steel, carrying my new found 90 day old body with such grace and stride. What the hell was I thinking. You see, in the last few months I have gone and bought the outfits, I have purchased the dumbells, rubber ball, dvd's out the ying-yang - still with no motivation to get my lazy ass off the couch and actually participate in something that might make me feel better. Nope, I had to go and drop $400 on an "extreme" fitness program that I will probably never be able to do. I am so far outta shape, that this just may kill me - if not kill me - leave me in a state of crumbling chaos in the middle of the floor only to have my dog attempt CPR as a last ditch effort of revival to get him his fat ass dinner. My boyfriend.....well, he would just step over me.....at least I know my dog would put in the effort.