Nothing beats red meat and wrasling, except for too much booze and NASCAR


Don’t judge me, but last night I went to the Halifax Forum multipurpose room to watch wrestling…It was delightful! I can’t decide what I loved more, 14-year-olds smoking, the haircuts, that Honky Tonk Man had guitars painted on his trunks with whiteout or maybe it was the sale of  illegal fireworks to minors . Enjoy the pics!

Starting our night off with burgs and 2 growlers at the Brooklyn Warehouse.

Giant foam fingers don’t lie…

Why yes, that is tag team champion Marty Jannetty confirming that I am in fact number 1. Take a gander at the 4th Mrs.Jannetty in the back there. She doesn’t look too impressed…

Jake the Snake Roberts was set to wrestle but he wasn’t allowed to cross the border. Had he  been able to come into the country I have a feeling the night may have played out like this…

I tried to get a picture of the Honkey Tonk Man, but he told me it was his “money making time” and not to stand around his station with my beer, because if I spilled it I would have to buy everything on the table. I think I can afford $35.00 Honkey Tonk Man. Also what gives? Being a jerk to one of the only girls in the room who has all her teeth…You’re not exactly moistening any panties these days Honkey Tonk.

 

 

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Dear Banana Republic


Do you know what I love? Being totally ignored by the glam bitch squad that you love to  staff  your stores with. It just delights me when I have to put my clothing back on and grab a pair of pants in another size or find a different top to go with your over priced black pencil skirt.  I guess making $9.10 per hour elevates your employees from the rest of the public.

But do you know what I love even more than this? Walking up to your cash register with $523.47 worth of clothing and having the girl at the cash register ask ” Was anyone helping you with this today?” It delights me to reply ” absolutely no one.”

Somebody’s got a case of the Mondays!!!!


Sorry for the delay in today’s post, between the indecisive son of a B ordering and the Slo-bots working behind the counter at Tim Horton’s today it took me forever to get into my office. Knights of Columbus, it took all my might not to yell at someone this morning. Seriously if you’re going to order 3 dozen doughnuts just let the girl waiting on you choose them. This is what I had to listen to while waiting for my tea. “OK two, no… No three chocolate dip. Ummm…mmm…mm one vanilla dip, ok how many left now?  Alright, one more Boston cream, how many do I have left now?” This went on for two more boxes! 

 I was going to write and open letter to the jean manufacturing companies today. I would like to know why jeans fit me perfectly in a store and then when I have them on for longer than 15 minutes, they start to stretch out and sag across my ass like some sort of homeless ladies corduroy trousers. Now thanks to Tim Horton’s I don’t have time. Plus Olive Oil has lingered around my office more so than usual these days. He is trying to catch me wasting company time. His slender 12-year-old girl physique allows him to sneak up on me without warning. Can’t a sister catch-up on missed episodes of 16 and Pregnant in peace? I can already tell my Garbage Man Syndrome is going to hit overdrive by Wednesday this week.