d is for … dammit doll

Day 19:365 Gratitude Challenge and April 5th A to Z Challenge

Today I am grateful for my ‘Dammit Doll’. A dammit doll is a 12 inch doll designed as a stress relieving tool because it can really take a whacking (trust me, I have whacked the living hell out of my dammit doll and it still lives to be whacked another day). I received my dammit doll as a ‘just because’ gift from a friend who knows me, oh, so very well. ‘Just because’ gifts are the best because they are spontaneous and make the receiver feel so very good, dammit. Dammit dolls are available in a variety of fun prints, each coming with their own special dose of dammit. Here is a picture of my dammit doll:


Isn’t he a beauty? All dammit dolls come with a dammit doll instructional poem sewn on its front which you can read here:

Dammit doll poem

I love my dammit doll, dammit, and I am not afraid to say it. The fact that my friend knew how much I would need this wee fella in my crazy, twisted life just makes me love her all the more, dammit. I am also not ashamed to admit that I have whacked, slammed, stomped, banged, and voodoo pinned my dammit doll to near death.

Here are few instances when I have especially found my dammit doll to surpass its stress relieving expectations:

  • Get blamed for log clogging the toilet? Grab that little dammit doll sucker by the legs and whack it repeatedly against the new toilet so that it gets the message that
    you won’t tolerate any form of log clogging from it.
  • Significant other agreed that your outfit makes you look like a hobbit?  Go dammit im madback to your bedroom, slam the door, take that dammit doll and slammit against the back of the door for as many times as you need to. Scream, “dammit! you bastard!” with each and every slammit.
  • Out of chocolate ice cream while you are in an incredibly dangerous mood swinging situation? You have a couple of options here. 1) You can stick the dammit doll in the freezer right where the flippin’ ice cream container should be and leave it there until you calm down or 2) Drop the dammit doll on the floor and stompit until you can’t possibly stompit anymore all the while yelling, DAMMIT! DAMMIT! DAMMIT!
  • Tried to compose a tweet on Twitter only to be left feeling like a twit because you can’t think about what to tweet? Grab the dammit doll by the head and drive that head repeatedly into a brick wall. This saves your beautiful forehead from getting all scraped and bloodied up. Let your dammit doll take one for the team, dammit.
  • Sick and tired of hearing how much Oprah loves bread? Cut out a picture of Oprah’s face, fasten it to the dammit doll’s head and shove a kazillion straight pins into it. This makes the dammit doll become a voodoo dammit doll. Feel free to put any face on it that is annoying the living shit out of you. Sorry, Oprah. Not sorry.


Now before you consider calling Dammit Doll Protective Services on me for excessive abuse of my dammit doll, I think you should know that my dammit doll is very much appreciated and is treated very well in between stressful events and situations. It’s not like I have to whack, slam, stomp, bang, or vodoo pin it every single day. I mean that’s what the happy pills are for, dammit, so stop rolling your eyes and shaking your head at me.

Here are some examples of dammit doll enjoying some down time:

Dammit Doll is reading one of my favourite books:


Dammit Doll enjoying some cuddles with his snuggle buddy, Ringo:


Dammit Doll binging on House of Cards and chocolate ice cream while chugging down some Coke~Cola:


So there, dammit. Proof positive that dammit doll’s life isn’t a complete and utter living hell. My relationship with dammit doll is all about compromise like all good relationships should be. Dammit doll gives a little, I give a little. Dammit doll takes a little shit for me, well, who am I kidding? I’m not taking any shit for him. He’s on his own there, dammit. He gets some lovin’, some treats, some down time. What more could a dammit doll want, dammit?

Imagine a world if everyone had their own dammit doll? There would be so much less stress in the world so …..

…purchase a dammit doll, dammit. Beat the living shit out of it. You’ll thank me for it later.

Dammit doll: 1

Stress: 0







c is for … canucklehead

Day 18:365 Gratitude Challenge and April 4th A to Z Challenge

100 per centToday I am grateful that I am a Canucklehead. That’s right, a Canucklehead. According to www.boredatuni.com, a “Canucklehead is a total Canadian person. [It] sounds like it should be an insult, but it turns out, anything to do with Canada is pretty cool.” As a proud Canucklehead, I feel that it is my duty to clarify a few misconceptions that some people may have about us Canuckleheads.

  • Canuckleheads only drink beer. This is absolutely positively 100% false. We also drink lagers, stouts, liquor and wine. Sometimes we even drink water, juice, milk, pop, coffee, tea, and a whole other assortment of beverages. On occasion, I have even put a slice of lemon in my water because I like to live dangerously. We are a frickin eclectic people, let me tell you.
  • Polar bears roam freely across Canuckland. Again, false. I have never once seen a polar in my back yard nor can I say that any of my friends have. Polar bears roam oh-why-thankyou-polar-bears-ice-food-appetizer-demotivational-poster-1265228492freely way up, and I mean way up, in Northern Canuckland where it is frigging cold enough for polar bears to live comfortably.  While I have seen pictures of polar bears, the closest I have ever been to a polar bear was at a zoo and there was a nice enclosure between us. However, I do not think that he could have been a true Canuck polar bear because he wasn’t all that polite when I waved at him. Actually, the impolite bastard looked the other way. He remains dead to me to this day.
  • All Canuckleheads are lumberjacks and wear red flannel shirts. I blame Monty Python for this misconception. Remember the lyrics to their Lumberjack song? “I’m a lumberjacks decent fellers SQUARE-845x1000lumberjack and I’m okay. I sleep all night and I work all day.” (Good luck getting that song out of your head now – hey, I needed it to make a point. Okay?) This song was written in reference to a barber who always wanted to be a lumberjack in British Columbia (a province in a Canuckland). While lamenting about his unfulfilled life, he rips off his barber coat and reveals a red flannel shirt underneath. I mean, really. Canuckleheads have way more fashion sense than that. And while we may have oodles and oodles of trees in our fair country, not all 33 million of us can be lumberjacks. I mean, who would be left to play hockey?
  • Canuckleheads wear toques all the time. Wrong. I respectfully ask you, have you seen any photographs of us? Do we all have toque heads? The answer is most definitely we do not. We have some pretty styling heads up here and we cannot be going around sticking toques on and ruining our perfectly coiffed heads. Also, wearing toques all the time assumes that we live in a constant state of winter.
  • Winter is all year round. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Most of us actually experience the four seasons of spring, summer, fall and winter. Winter technically lasts from 67823e4aa2244283c6ae540281f85ac7December to March. As a matter of fact, we Canuckleheads have been know to endure many the blistering hot summer and, if we were to wear toques and red flannel shirts all the time, we would be dead from heat-itis or some other hot disease.  Not to mention that we would all look like feckin’ eejits and feckin’ eejits we most certainly are not. Plus all the igloos that I have heard that we live in would melt.
  • We are a polite and well-mannered people.  Hmmmmmmm. Did you read my post about ‘a is for assholes’? I could not have written that if I had never been on the receiving end of a few impolite and ill-mannered Canucklehead assholes in my lifetime. While the majority of Canuckleheads are lovely and polite people, many of us, myself included, can also swear like feckin’ truck drivers when need be. Please don’t be arguing about this with me because I may just have to tell you to shut the hell up. Sorry. So sorry if I offeneded you there. I didn’t mean to. Again, I was just making a point.
  • Canuckleheads only eat backbacon, maple syrup and Kraft Dinner. Ewwwwwww; this is crazy and completely illogical. Maple syrup goes on waffles and pancakes only. While I have been known to dip my perfectly buttered toast in a bowl of maple syrup, it cannot be just any old maple syrup. It has to be real Canuckland maple syrup and not the Aunt Jemima kind. There are certainly maple syrup rules that we follow in Canuckland. Maple syrup does not go on backbacon or Kraft Dinner. We are not an uncivilized people. While we do like backbacon, we also enjoy bacon strips on our BLTs. As for Kraft Dinner, well, all can I say is that it is a birthday party staple along with hot dogs. Quit judging us. We’re sick of it quite frankly.
  • We only have one highway in Canuckland and our major source of transportation is sled dogs. Those living in major cities sometimes ski and skate to work, too, dogs sledsbecause all of Canuckland is covered by tundra. False. While we do have the Trans Canuckland Highway stretching from one end of the country to the other, we do have other roads that allow us to get off the highway and visit friends and family from time to time. That is, for those of us who actually like our families otherwise you could just keep going until you really want to get off the highway. It’s really amazing how our country has progressed from sled dogs to planes, trains and automobiles. Some of our automobiles even come with heated seat warmers which is awesome when you consider how we live in a country that only has one season called feckin’ winter.
  • Everyone knows everyone. Come on. Be realistic here. How can we be expected to know everyone in a country as vast and populated as ours? Is it because of that one highway thing and you think that we pass by everyones’ house?  Do you think that as we sled dog by each house we are yelling, “Oh, hi there, Michael John. How the heck are ya?” I know. I am getting really sarcastic now but I can’t help it. Once I was asked by this crazy Irishman if I knew his sister, Sheila, who lives in Toronto. When I politely explained to him that I did not, he inquired how far Toronto was from where I lived. After I explained to him that it would take approximately 4.5 to 5 hours to drive there, he replied, “Jaysus, we’d be in the feckin’ ocean by then!” So there, I am allowed to be sarcastic when faced with questions like that.
  • Canuckleheads only watch hockey. Seeing how Canuckland totally dominates this canada_1sport, I can understand why there would be a misconception that it is the only sport we watch. As great as hockey is, we are interested in all kinds of sports. Did you know that a Canucklehead invented basketball (James Naismith)? Did you know that our national sport is lacrosse? At some point in time, Canuckleheads were introduced to curling, skiing, skating, broomball, baseball, football, soccer, golf, track and field, and a whole slew of other sports. I know. Crazy, right? Who in their right mind would ever introduce a bunch of beer drinking, toque and red flannel shirt wearing, sled dogging, and well-mannered speaking people, who only have one major highway to mush their dogs on, to other sports? I have to say, you’ve got me there.
  • We only listen to Canadian music. Sigh. Most of us Canuckleheads are really, really, really tired of certain Canadian musicians. *cough* Justin Bieber *cough* Celine Justin-Bieber-Memes-55Dion *cough * Barenaked Ladies *cough* Rush *cough*  Now before you go sending off your emails of hate to me because you just LOVE Justin Bieber and Barenaked Ladies, hear me out (please pretty please with sugar on top). Canuckland has this little thing called the CRTC (Canuckland Radio-Television and Telecommunications Comission) which issues certain standards for Canuckland’s broadcasting and telecommunication systems. One such standard is that all Canuckland radio and televisions stations must play a certain percentage of Canuckland content each and every day. I get it. It is important for a country to promote its own talent before anyone else’s. However, what usually ends up happening is that the next hit single of say, Justin Bieber, is played over and over and over and over and over again throughout a single day. Baby, Baby, Baby, ooooh, you just cannot escape it. By the way, on behalf of all Canuckleheads, I apologize for Nickleback. Enough said.
  • We say ‘eh’ all the time and pronounce ‘about’ as ‘aboot’. This really gets me hotsay something canadian enough under my Canucklehead collar to melt my igloo when I am made fun of for saying ‘eh’ and ‘aboot’. What country doesn’t have their own version of ‘eh’? For example, Americans say ‘huh’ and Ausralians say ‘aye’. Why should we be picked on for it and not anyone else? Is it because we are just so gaul darn nice and you know that we will just sit back and take it? Eh, is that it? Well, blow it out your piehole. And as for ‘about’, let me clarify it. From what I gather, how we hear things has to do with ears and dipthongs and linguistics and shit like that which is really fancy speak for “we hear the sound that most closely resembles something in our own experience with language and lets us reproduce a recognizable approximation” (https://wwwhttps://www.quora.com/Why-do-Americans-think-Canadians-pronounce-about-as-aboot).  So stop picking on us Canuckleheads and clean the wax out of yer ears so you can really hear what we are talking about.

I hope this proud Canucklehead has helped dispel any misconceptions you may have about my beloved Canuckland. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be off to feed the sled dogs so that they will have enough energy to chase off the polar bear lurking around in the back yard. After that, I must fix my lumberjack husband a fine meal of Kraft dinner and backbacon smothered by a healthy dose of maple syrup followed by a pint of beer to wash it all down. Hopefully, he has a clean toque and red flannel shirt to wear for tomorrow because the ones hanging on the clothesline are frozen stiff in the raging winter blizzard out there. And to top it all off, I hope that there is a hockey game on so that we won’t have to listen to Justin Bieber, eh?

Canucklehead: 1

Myths: 0



b is for … bugs bunny

Day 16:365 Gratitude Challenge and April 2nd A to Z Challenge

42096-hi-Bugs_BunnyToday I am grateful to have had such a fine role model in my life as Bugs Bunny. Say whaaaaaat, Head Cabbage? Don’t you know that he is a cartoon character? Why, yes, I do; thank you very much for asking. For me, Bugs Bunny was and is da bomb, the king, a hero, a smart aleck carrot chewer, a legend, a role model. My role model. And he may just be yours after you finish reading this. Just remember that I called him first. Okay?

Bugs Bunny first appeared in 1940 and has been entertaining and influencing audiences ever since. My parents watched him, I watched him, my sons watched him and, if the great big Bugs Bunny guy in the sky has anything to do with it, my future grandchildren will watch him too. This is what makes Bug Bunny timeless and legendary; he reaches across generations and holds us all together in his Bugs Bunny ways. In Bugs Bunny’s 76 years, he has changed in physical appearance only and has remained true to himself, his values, and his character. How many of us can say that?

Even though he is a cartoon character, I have always admired Bugs Bunny as if he were a person. I remember as a child thinking that if only I could stand up to the bullies (assholes) in my life the way Bugs Bunny stood up to his, things would be so much better for me. Bugs never took any shit from anyone. Gun totin’ Yosemite Sam, ‘kill the Yosemite-Sam-Bugs-Bunnywabbit’ Elmer Fudd, Tasmanian Devil, Marvin the Martian, Foghorn Leghorn, Wile W. Coyote, Daffy Duck, Rocky and Mugsy and a whole bunch of other assholes, never stood a chance against the sly, charasmatic and smart rabbit. When dealing with the many assholes in his life, Bugs always tried to placate them first in an attempt to avoid any conflict. If that did not work and when he was pushed too far, Bugs Bunny always used brains, not brawn, to deal with and outsmart the asshole tormenting him. He would even turn to his audience beforehand and say, “Of course you know, this means war!”. Oh, how I loved when he said that for I knew that his deviousness was about to be unleashed on the asshole. Asshole be gone!

Another reason why I looked up to Bugs Bunny was because of his many admirable traits. He was confident, intelligent, smart alecky, quick-witted, funny, cool as a cucumber, and he was the type of bunny who everybody rooted for even though you know that he was always going to win anyway. That he was going to win regardless did not matter to me, it was how he was going to achieve his victory that did. Imagine, if you will, how a child who was expected to be seen and not heard, was painfully shy, who lived in a home consumed with dysfunction and anger and who felt powerless about her situation, took sanctuary in a cartoon character and who dreamed about an always victorious rabbit cleverly stealing her away from her surroundings, at least for an hour every Saturday anyway.

When I think back to that period in my life, though uncertain and dysfunctional as it was, I cannot help but smile when I think about how I always looked forward to Saturday morning cartoons and Bugs Bunny. Not only did he have the voice that I secretly wished I had, he could also transform himself into anything he wanted to be in order to outsmart dragan asshole. Bugs was a master of disguise. One minute he was a barber preparing to shave Elmer Fudd and the next he was a prisoner 3 1/2 splitting rocks in the prison yard. Another time he was a cowboy saddled up by the bar and the next he was a conductor conducting an opera singer at a major opera house. But my favourite of all his disguises was when he was dressed up as a girl. No one did and does drag better than Bugs Bunny. Oh how Bugs could bat those long eyelashes at any asshole he needed to distract especially poor Elmer Fudd.

All Bugs Bunny ever really wanted was to be left alone and tend his garden of carrots. He did not want to be drawn into any arguments or into any drama whatsoever. He was proficient at minding his own business and never harmed anyone directly or intentionally. While sometimes his mouth did get him into trouble, he was always able to worm his way out of it by using clever words, intelligent actions, a tube of red lipstick and a wiggle to die for. He even had his very own catchphrase, “Eh, what’s up doc?” while chomping on a perfectly formed carrot.


So, you see, I am not so crazy after all for wanting to emulate a cartoon character who looks better in a dress than I could ever hope to. He is da bomb, the king, a hero, a smart aleck carrot chewer, a legend, a role model both then an now. Why? Because Bugs Bunny is timeless. What worked for him then still works for him now. Imagine how much better the world would be if more people were like Bugs Bunny minding their own business and being Bugs-Bunny-2content tending their own gardens in whatever form that garden took? What if we all avoided conflict until the last possible moment and then, instead of using brawn, we used our brains instead? What would that world be like?

I am going to go out on a limb and say that that world would be a much better place if we all behaved like Bugs Bunny. It’s a strange way of looking at things, I know, but step back and consider how a cross dressing resourceful and clever rabbit provided an escape every Saturday to a little girl who quite often felt alone, afraid and powerless. That little girl turned out rather well all things considered AND she went on to handle all the assholes in her life just as Bugs Bunny did. And most of the time, they never knew what hit them.

Cross dressing rabbit: 1

Assholes: 0