Because Facebook Isn’t Real Life

I know that talking about Facebook is so old and done, but I still keep finding myself surprised by how seriously people take it. “You didn’t like the video I posted yesterday. Why? I thought you like goats.” ” I do like goats. I didn’t see your video.” “Yes, on Facebook. I posted it yesterday.” “Yeah, I understood that. I just didn’t see it.” “You didn’t look on my page? It’s on my page. I posted it around 2pm. Go see. And like it.” ” Okay but I don’t actually go look at my friends pages. I mean, I see a few things in my newsfeed when I sign in

I like gay people – and other reasons to be very very afraid

  So I was sitting around mourning my life losses the other day, lamenting closed windows  and opportunities untaken, torturing myself by searching for the audition tapes of all the women who have lived and/or are presently living my personal life-long dream to be a writer/cast member of Saturday Night Live. Yes, I have more than one personal life-long dream and yes, one of them is to rescue a family of goats, but I have it on good authority that I should aim high so… If ever, by some miracle, I should one day “make it”, at the top of my acceptance speech list will be my parents, my children, my girlfriend, my agent, my manager, and

In which someone wipes the smug look off a guy’s face by smacking the trump hat off his head

Maybe it’s our fault, because we forgot to stop to buy champagne on the way there. Maybe deep deep deep down inside, we knew that the bottle of champagne would have just sat there on the coffee table, an unopened metaphorical bottle of salt for the infected wound that would fester deeper and deeper into the night, and the soft tissue that is the hearts and souls of the people of this country. When I had originally planned to go home (and by home I mean my mother’s house – for the sake of this story and the heartstrings of its readers) for election day, it was with the full and selfish  intention of being

Alcohol makes you better at sports; A somewhat loose translation

Something I noticed when I moved back to Montreal  years ago, was that Quebecers are so much more open and down to earth than Vancouverites. “What???”  You may be asking yourselves. Or me. You may be asking me. “Aren’t Montrealers are a bunch of chain-smoking, meat-eating, sexist, stinky, racist anti-hijab fear mongers!??” To which I would respond by neither confirming nor denying your negative core beliefs about Quebec but by simply pointing out… “And they mix tobacco with their weed too. It’s really gross” “And also… ” you might add,  ” Down to earth? They’re not even vegetarian! They don’t hug trees! They barely recycle, they probably don’t even know

If only Spin class were more like drunk angry sex…

 So here’s the thing. Last week I tried a spin class for the very first time in my life. I’m not going to lie. I didn’t really like it. So obviously, I went back and  I tried it again. And still… While I appreciate that spin class is an awesome low impact workout that will help you to burn billions of calories and sweat your brains out in a kind of mindless way, – which is great for people like me, who find that thinking too hard hurts the brain- And while I did appreciate that basically there’s no coordination required, as the moves don’t get much more complicated than Stand up. Crouch

I’m just so glad the reign of terror is finally over…

I hate April Fool’s day.   And with good reason, it’s easily is the dumbest day ever. Seriously. It is so stupid. When my ex was a kid, his mom used to cook pieces of fabric into their pancakes the morning of every single April 1st. I’m not sure how that’s even funny. It just seems like a sad, disappointing, kind -of-gross choking hazard. Apparently there is a version of April fools day in almost every country in the world. Many have the same tradition as us, of playing jokes on people until noon, when we can all breathe a sigh of relief. But not really because there are plenty of

And for the children… Hollow Tombs

“OH MY GOD!!! I can’t believe I didn’t send my kids anything for Easter!” I admitted shamefully in the 50% all easter chocolate labyrinth at Walmart this morning. The shamefully part was due in part both to having not sent easter baskets to my kids and to actually being in Walmart. There was no chocolate labyrinth. The chocolate was cheap crappy chocolate (wax) easter bunnies, cream eggs and marshmallow chickens. The labyrinth was the chaotic maze of isles that the bags and boxes of chocolate were cascading haphazardly from. Easter used to be such a big deal in our family, and now? None of my kids are at home anymore,

I Don’t Give A Damn About My Bad Education

Okay, well that’s not entirely true but… Oh my God – Oh my God – Oh my God! I saw Joan Jett in concert on Monday night and SHUT UP! Because I can’t even contain my inner everything – from my inner child to my inner teen-angel, to my inner-lesbian and inner-mom. Seriously. Childhood fantasy realized – check! Also – The weirdest thing happened during and after the show. I thought. Deep thoughts. Not just thoughts about what an amazing couple Joan and I would make if she would just give me a chance, because I don’t even mind that she never seems to talk and is almost always on

The Best Exotic Jewish General (Code Lavender)

So I booked another rejuvenating stay at the Jewish General Hospital quite recently, and I have to say; The new wing is pretty luxurious. Yes it took me over 12 hours to be admitted – Yes it took me over 3 hours to get the results of my “emergency” CT Scan – and Yes there may or may not have been some confusion about whether or not said results should be trusted “I’m not saying they’re inccorrect Mz. Chapman, I’m just saying that it was a resident who read them and it might be best if we wait until a real doctor sees them before jumping to a diagnosis…” “okay

Beyonce can suck it and here’s why

Okay maybe I didn’t actually mean that Beyonce herself should suck it. What I meant is that this quote, “You have the same 24 hours as Beyonce” – The internet should suck it. And so should whoever created, mass produced and distributed all the memes, wall decals, diaries, mugs, and throw pillows with that quote on them. I can’t. Seriously. If I see it in my newsfeed one more time, or on one more coffee mug or  water bottle… Do you know why? Because it is a blantant lie. Do Beyonce and I technically have the same amount of hours in a day? Yes, yes we do. Are they the same hours? Not even a

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